#unlore

Tate is a simple man. He kneels here at her feet, looking up the line of her misshapen body, and doesn’t even really think about what he’s begging for.

He just does. Good boys do as they’re told, after all, and there’s nothing he wants more than to be recognised.

"Hey," Tate's grin is huge, splitting his face into a smile when Taron comes and stands with him. After their first meeting, Tate's not too worried about being overly familiar, but he is conscious that a) they're in public and b) Taron can't see him coming and c), most importantly of all, the other man is shy. Still, Tate leans in and presses a lingering kiss to the other man's cheek.

" don't we all. " ─── sarcastic. why wouldn't it be? it was [ in all honesty ] an insane thing to think let alone say, though little else would be expected where ankhirmaa was concerned. if it wasn't violence or a generator, she couldn't be expected to show much in the way of interested. [ an assumption based on firsthand experience? no, but it was what he'd heard about her, and so far it rang true. ]

the two are so silent when they slip in that their appearance is an ( unsettling ) surprise. Tahno no longer trails behind Rosie, but now beside. She still sits first, however, and he slides beside her, sinking into the slink leather of the seat. Handsome as ever, those unheavenly clear eyes hold sight of her ( and only her ).

memes, accepting

the ger – sanctuary, home – was like a lighthouse. ankhirmaa’s hand parts dwelling entrance. kid bootprints trace swirling, abundant snow. august pauses at her request. his almond eyes were scarcely visible above a heavy scarf. he shuffles and stamps his boots. awkward, stiff. white flakes hit the straw mat.