#talonsdesigner

“This?” He shifts his shoulders to show off the jacket with ‘SLASHER’ painted on it in barn red. It looks like maybe a high school kid with deportment problems did the paint job, but he’s proud of it. “What do you mean, Mia? I did pretty good...I think.”

Venom looks down at his costume, forked tongue flicking once. It bumps into the goalie mask and it’s only then he realizes that he’s done so. He’s more flustered than he realizes. 

“Can you fix it?” he asks finally. “Or give me something else, maybe?”

It’s an elegant movement, Maximilien thinks, and the cameras that fit behind his red ocular shields record Mia’s actions, then play the stream back again for his enjoyment. She’s quite lovely, the way tall flowers bending in the breeze are lovely.

“You know me too well.” And indeed, she does. Mia has correctly assessed his flair for the dramatic and his appreciation of fine garments. 

Maximilien reaches out to take her free hand, then bows over it. Were he human, his face would be near enough to expel warm breath across her knuckles. A moment later, he straightens again. 

“I don’t suppose you have any suggestions for a costume? I can pull off rather more than it might seem at a glance. I pride myself on my versatility.”

send me a symbol for my muse’s reaction to… …being stuck in a car/train/plane/etc with your muse = ☠

Honestly, he doesn’t think much of being closed up hours on end for air transport and suspects Mia doesn’t either. Nothing about her seems to betray issue with the conditions or situation.

Morrison looks over at her, elegant and composed somehow despite the transport vehicle and its confines. She might be waiting for a flute of champagne at a garden party. That’s a skill he lacks and admires.

“Hey, Espinoza.” The commander holds out a deck of cards and waves them at her. How the hell she maintains the degree of class she has is beyond him. But then, he got his start on a small farm so maybe the playing field’s not level. “You know how to play cribbage? If you don’t, we can play something else.”

They’ve been given the all clear on belts for a while now, so Morrison stands, knees creaking. As he nears her, he gets a whiff of perfume – that expensive stuff that has ambergris and God knows what else in it. High quality and smells like angels.

“It’s not an order,” he jokes. “I can just sit and amuse myself for a few hours, it’s no big deal.” 

The cards are waved at her again and he wonders if he’s managed to annoy the poor woman. He gets on Ana’s nerves sometimes, so he knows a little of his restlessness can go a long way.

“So. What do you do to amuse yourself for fourteen hours?”

@talonsdesigner

“Thanks. It’s the hot dogs, I think.” 

He forks one and holds it up for Mia to inspect. The meat has turned from pinkish-red to brownish-red. Morrison has scored the casing the dogs don’t split and he’s pretty proud of himself for looking like he knows what he’s doing. 

Jamison began painting his symbol on the object the other had tried to touch, proving it definitely  was a bomb he had been painting and didn’t want Mia to touch. Why he was so protective over it was no surprise but why would he want to paint it even thought it would be blown up soon enough?

Jamison began to laugh when he heard her comments about his clothing. He was obviously fine since it’s hot where he’s from shorts would be fine. He’d also never want to want to look like talon.

“Oi have some neosporin on me if ya want that, mate. Roadie makes me always carry it on me since i get into a lot of scraps. But go on- share the details of the fight, sheila!”

He shouted in an excited tone, yes he just met this person who he probably shouldn’t even trust but his only friend was hog. Maybe this person would be nice to him.