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𝐺𝑃, 𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑁 𝑆𝐸𝐴𝑆𝑂𝑁.
20s / male / any / 3♦️
Details
Am I really supposed to fill all this out? It's so long...
There's not much to tell. Name's Lighter. When I'm not too busy being kidnapped, you can find me in the Outer Ring. As the undefeated Champion, I defend the honor of the Sons of Calydon.
Here? Just playing the game.
Settling scores with my fists. Oh, and I'm not half bad at errands.
Caesar's more of the reader between us, but she never lets me touch the books I pick up for her. Movies... disaster? Romance is alright too. Music is whatever's playing in Steeltusk. Though when boss and Lucy get on the piano, it's got a nice sound to it. As for food... anything convenient and edible. Taste is a bonus, I guess. On the go or in a Hollow, lollipops work fine for me.
[ he left this blank like a coward. ]
Beer, if there's no Nitro-Fuel around.
.02 CLOWNS OR MIMES
...Clowns?
.03 SHOWER OR BATH
Shower, it's more convenient.
.04 PIRATES OR NINJAS
Pirates. Hollow bandits are pretty similar.
.05 TITS OR ASS
Uhh. Either, I suppose...
.06 COFFEE OR TEA
Coffee.
.07 SPICY OR SWEET
Sweet.
.08 SUMMER OR WINTER
Summer. Not much winter to speak of at home.
.09 LEATHER OR LACE
Leather. Easier to clean.
10. ROUGH SEX OR GENTLE SEX
Hey, who's asking?
INFJ-T
no subject
[ He casts a glance at the partition. ]
Seems in poor taste to hit the button for it, but we could always combine our reserves and really have a feast.
[ "feast" ]
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the harsh reality is that beggars can't be choosers. and low ranks happen to land somewhere even lower on the scale as far as the house is concerned.
which is to say, even if the taste is poor, it's a taste all the same. a bit of candy, popcorn, and soda is an indulgence that could save her a few chips in the long run. even if it's just biding her time. so long as the food and drink has not all been tampered with... but for what it's worth? there have been a few people here and there that have sampled the wares, and considering she hasn't yet blurred any kind of line, their chances must be good. )
As long as you forgive me for being less than a generous host, I don't see why we couldn't...
( the plastic button clacks, jarringly, around some ill-fitting sound effect on her side. )
Indulge as you see fit.
no subject
Oh, there's no need for forgiveness. I'm not so used to indulging. [ A smile flashes over the line as her partition cracks loose from its seam and begins to lower. ] Taste is a bit of a bonus...
[ He's about to click the button on his side, but a new feature winks to life on the single wall that now separates them — little neon outlines in varying shapes and sizes, helpfully labeled with things like TAKE A PEEK and BREAK ME FOR A GOOD TIME. ]
Huh. Well, while we're here. Let's see what this fuss is all about.
[ With a firm press of his thumb, he pokes out one of the holes. Something suspect could fit through there, but instead:
Here's the shiny wrapper of a lollipop being stuck through the wall. Convenient! ]
no subject
well, while they're here, might as well. she doesn't hesitate when she takes the stick between her fingers, between thumb and forefinger, right beneath the wrapper to tug it gently from his proffered hand. all of this time in one of these pods, and the worst thing she's done is take candy from a stranger. that does seem about right. )
... all of that just for a bit of glory.
( ...
does she know what these holes signify? or is she just reading from the candy wrapper? sweet&glory, maybe. )
May I have your hand, Mister Lighter?
no subject
Hmm, my hand? Sure thing. [ Hm, the initial hole is a touch too small. ] Let me just...
[ Perusing the other punch-out options, Lighter lines the breadth of his knuckles up against each of them until he finds a promising looking match. His fist looks like it could fit through that. He has to knuckle his way through this one a little bit, but the perforated edges eventually give.
(the question isn't whether she knows, it's whether he knows)
Without further ado, he slots his hand through, callused palm obligingly faced upward. ]
How's that?
no subject
Perfect.
( and perfunctory at that, committing casual irreverance far worse than what the wall was designed to do, in ignorance.
but robin braces him, her upturned hand cupped softly against the back of his knuckles as he must feel it, blindly, as the press of the pentip's point pushes into the callused meat of his palm.
a little harder to do this on skin than on paper, and she must struggle if she's running a line over, then over, and over again, to get the ink to stroke correctly. at one point, she smears her thumb across his fingers, gets them straighter to give her access to uninterrupted canvas, so that by the time she finishes, she can hold his hand in both of hers, bidding him to curl it into a fist as she pushes it gently back through the hole. )
Careful. It isn't permanent.
( if he was thinking to cherish her autograph or to wash it off immediately. )
no subject
Oh, I'll guard it with my life until it fades. That's plenty indulgent enough for me.
no subject
( she could write it on his buttcheek or smth but that'd be like defacing one of the seven wonders of the world
but that is neither here nor there. it does feel a little silly, standing in front of the partition, considering what it is. it strikes her more than any curtain call, which is a silly inkling to have when there's really no need for performance anxiety without a performance. )
In fact, it might've been a little mean of me.
( there's a plastic crinkle, fading, a little further away as she takes a step back in case he still means to remove the partition between them. )
I expect it'll probably come off when you wash your hands.
( before a meal? before some popcorn? )
no subject
Yeah, but the first one's special, isn't it? [ His heel scuffs slightly, a motion that's thoughtful, not quite a similar step back from the barrier between them. ] I've already taken one too many IOUs here. It's nice to have something like this, even if it'll fade eventually.
[ His thinking doesn't extend too far (not his strong suit......); he swipes up some of his refreshments and approaches the partition, giving the button a tap on the way. ]
Same as a lollipop, no? Eventually, you're just left with the memory of the flavor.
no subject
They do say the first impression can be everything.
( so she says anyway, in very mild-mannered tones as the partition lifts with a stray breeze of moving air. her feathers behind each ear ruffle with it.
by the time he can see her, she's holding a tray of popcorn and soda — the first in a bowl and a plastic baggy both, all ready to go if he takes it for the road. the lolly's been tucked behind an ear as a thoughtful detail. apparently, as is unfortunate of most dress and dress-like structures, she's without any pockets to her name to make out like
a bandit. she'll have to improvise later.
very demure. very mindful. very netflix and chill, considering she's turned on the television for some background filler, even if the volume's been set real low.
which is unfortunate. which the narrative will get into, later, when he has time to notice those other details and she isn't using all of her attention and social graces to play hostess. )
And, at the very least, you've given me something sweet to remember you by. I just hope the same can be said of me.
no subject
Perhaps not the first Halovian he's seen? ]
Yep. [ An easy enough answer despite the short hiccup in his attention. He gives the bowl of candy an enterprising spin. ] Plenty sweet enough for me, and I don't say that lightly.
[ being something of a ✨connoisseur✨ himself ]
I'm not sure if you're the type to have a drink, [ He hefts a bottle of champagne in his opposite hand; sure, he doesn't have a champagne-kind-of-face, but he thought twice before grabbing the hard liquor. Part of him thinks there's no way a basement dweller will get to swipe that for free, but the narrator digresses. ] but you're welcome to my share.
[ A peace offering, held aloft as he gingerly crosses the boundary. ]
Since you never know who you'll run into here though, I guess I've been quite conservative.
no subject
but that's an assumption. really, he doesn't look like the type of guy to have a sweet tooth, either, so any preconceptions that robin might have had are laid by the wayside already, left to dry out in some desert sun. )
It would be good to have our wits about us. I've avoided for the same reason.
... Besides. If I do drink, I usually save it for a special occasion.
( as he stands in her space, she has to reorient, looking down at her tray and then at the fancy bottle in his hand — and with a steady sense of a hostess's appreciation, she sets the tray down on the mini table as she finds glasses with which to use.
they're plastic. water cooler cups. the expensive champagne might burn through them when he pours. but she pries two apart with her fingernail and holds them out at the ready. )
I'd hold this one under consideration.