#swealter

whatd you do

i don’t know, i woke up this morning and it was just. aching. 

swealter replied to your post: my back hurts, ugh.

do you want me to rub it i have healing factors that could help

@swealter started following you

Busy working on his “chemistry”, blending the emotions he harvested for the drugs he dealt, he heard his phone buzz. Dammit, he was just starting to force his dumb ass off his blog and get to work. Flipping it over, thumb catching on the crack in the screen, he turned it on to check. Huh. A message. From an unknown number?

...Whoa. Was it his birthday, or something? Impossible, he didn’t have one.

Me @ ur tags: yeah

you can come over again and stay a few days if you want

Send me  “ ❥ “  for my muse’s reaction to yours gently stroking their hair.

@schediophillia

If you think Oxy did not remember Dirk calling her dirty, you would be very, very wrong. In fact, she’s committed it to memory, grumbling about it in one of her three daily-- Nightly rather, baths. She was very clean, thank you very much!

Despite the teasing and mockery between them, all the things that perhaps should’ve made her less inclined to invite him over, Oxy had indeed decided to show Dirk her lab at the very least. The lab and all of it’s attractions, such as: Mysterious sentient goo!, proto-vampires, proto-minotaurs, and other creatures she’s managed to crudely stitch together through the mundane DNA of ordinary creatures.

She’s just showing off, of course. If she REALLY wanted to show him the interesting things she would make another blood bomb or two.

They’re observing the griffins she’s made with the DNA of a beloved friend through a window when he rests an elbow on her shoulder. Her rather short stature making it easy on him, she takes it for teasing and gently jabs his ribs in return. 

She starts talking about the griffins, glossing over the procedure of making them (She refuses to offer how she’s done it to anyone) and discusses the different kinds of birds and cats she’s mixed together. Beaming brightly when she points out the biggest one, Vulture and Leopard. She talks of her further plans, of making more traditional griffins and seeing what else she can do with them. Along with how-- considering the original ‘griffin’ was human-- well they’d be able to understand human languages. Their intelligence could be greater than she’d imagine.

While she gets lost in her rambling about DNA and the science behind it all, her theories, she doesn’t notice as Dirk’s hand comes down and runs over her hair down the back of her head. Rhythmic as she keeps talking. Cat instinct this, bird instinct this, griffin cub looks janky this, et cetera. 

She notices eventually, of course. His hand ceasing the process when she bumps her hip against his with some offhand joke about him and her hair. His fingers going through the red, pink, orange strands one more time before flicking her in the face with her own hair.

She bumps him again to send him stumbling but leads him on to the next creature she has made regardless.

Send me  “ ❥ “  for my muse’s reaction to yours gently stroking their hair.

Vampires of Oxy’s ilk were supposed to survive years in cairns and frozen wastelands, not bothered by freezing temperatures. Even preferring them.Of course, when the sentence comes with a ‘supposed’ it usually means that isn’t always the case, and it isn’t.

It might’ve been weakness on her part, or perhaps innate trust, that lead her to want to befriend a creature whose entire shtick was one of the very few things that could end her life permanently. Nonetheless, here she was more than happy to invite the phoenix, Dave, into her home with a smile and blankets to warm them as they warmed her.

In time they just began talking, conversation starting like a fire, Oxy spinning stories when required (Whether she was asked to do so, or simply deciding to have fun through making some bullshit up could be debated) with wild hand gestures to serve as the loom for them all. She asked questions of Dave too. Of his kind, of if he was safe and needed anything at all-- She’d be happy to give it, she said, as she always says and follows through with.

It died down eventually, smoldering and they ended up watching something or other on Oxy’s couch. Simply spending sometime together. She’d pulled him there of course, promising to put on something good that he’d enjoy. Her grin bright, and hair just as fiery as her fireplace and all the warmth it brought.

Unluckily for Dave and fairly typical of Oxy she’d simply put on Harry Potter for the millionth time in her life.

She’d been engrossed in it, murmuring every line as it was spoken to herself. Hands sometimes subtly copying the wand motions. Glancing to Dave to nervously check if he liked it.

At some point she’d ended up leaning against him, his arm around her shoulders to make it more comfortable for himself. Hand slowly starting to stroke through her hair while Sirius Black showed off his burnt off place on his family tree. Running  his fingers through dyed hair.