[ It’s actually a nice offer, and it catches her by surprise; considering how rocky their introduction had been, she’d assumed he would have been more than happy to see the back of her, but— ]
Wyver.
[ Though she doesn’t outright agree, the fact that she’s even telling him is something. ]
[you're right, it's strange...almost like being a hot girl means you can get away with things...
The song is pulling to a close, reaching higher and higher for a big finale, yet the face Richie pulls is one of pure dismay.]
Ugh! Ain't that just the way? Are you trying to break my heart? Because it'll happen, lady, I'll die right here on the spot. They'll have to mop me up with all eight hundred pounds of glitter they've dumped on the floor. I'll be the flashiest corpse in the morgue. [It's a lot of fluff and bluster — he pulls out of the gripe with a fresh cut grin. Still disappointed, but in good cheer.] I went for Olympia. Better toilets and less dragons. But if I'm ever in town I'll make good on my word. How-bout it?
[The song does end then, but he doesn't quite let her go.] What's your name?
[ The way he babbles... She swears there's such an element of Peter there that it's almost absurd. If she hadn't known Peter Quill before this, she probably wouldn't have the patience for Richie – though, then again, if she hadn't known Peter and the rest of the Guardians, she wouldn't have entertained any of this in the first place.
There's no real smile on her lips, but just the smallest of quirks at the corner. ]
Sounds fair.
[ Whether or not she'll take him up on the offer without the influence of glitter is anyone's guess, but for now? That was as good as a "yes." ]
Gamora.
[ She doesn't step away from him yet, though without the music, she absolutely could. ]
[Sounds like something from a Philip K. Dick paperback, is what he means.
She's only giving the barest of grins. Probably just rusty in the gears, gotta work out the cheeks and get up to more mischief before she graduates to showing off the pearly whites.
Challenge accepted. He tips his head to the side. The glitter in his brows at at the rims of his glasses and cheeks gives him a glow that borders on impish. He'd make an excellent Puck, were anyone to throw an impromptu showing of A Midsummer Night's Dream.] Call me Rich.
But the song is over, and she should absolutely step away, but the effects of the glitter still seem to be in full swing. Rather than drop his hand to break apart, she pulls her fingers free to brush gold away from his glasses – lightly, trying not to knock them out of place. ]
[Unexpected is the theme of this whole encounter, but hey, is he complaining?
Not one bit.
Though he's stunned for a short second Richie soon tilts his head down a shade, raising his brows so that they pass the rim of the glasses and she can clear away the gold. He shuts his eyes for the sparkling shower. It's an oddly affectionate gesture. One he wouldn't expect out of most girls post the first dance, much less a girl like this.
Feeling emboldened, he cracks open an eye and lifts a thumb to her mouth.]
Don't bite.
[Half joke disguised as a full joke, there, but he's smiling as he does a windshield wipe over the top of her lip. That gets the most of it, though he has to rub that pile off the side of her cheek too.]
[ At first, when he lifts his hand towards her face, she leans away on instinct. It's an automatic response, more than anything (to avoid touch, to stop someone from getting that close to her on impulse), but then she stills to give him the opportunity to brush away what's clung to her skin. Admittedly, the gold complements her green and black dress, but she isn't looking forward to finding the damn stuff everywhere for the next six months.
She scrunches her nose ever so briefly when he brushes away the glitter, looking expectantly up at him. ]
Pretty much, yeah. [That backward lean hadn't escaped him, but his thumb hit the skin before he could think twice either. She put up with the mother henning just the same. Tit for tat, Gam Gam.] It'll be a week before either of us are truly clean.
[Richie does withdraw then. Something is lost once the contact is broken. Giddy heights fading back to reality. Even so, his smile is genuine, and so is his gratitude.] Thanks for the spin, Miss Thing. Call me whenever.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sidenote: ur cr chart is making me laugh real hard
Wyver.
[ Though she doesn’t outright agree, the fact that she’s even telling him is something. ]
Did you stay in Wyver after we arrived?
thank you, i poured my heart into it
The song is pulling to a close, reaching higher and higher for a big finale, yet the face Richie pulls is one of pure dismay.]
Ugh! Ain't that just the way? Are you trying to break my heart? Because it'll happen, lady, I'll die right here on the spot. They'll have to mop me up with all eight hundred pounds of glitter they've dumped on the floor. I'll be the flashiest corpse in the morgue. [It's a lot of fluff and bluster — he pulls out of the gripe with a fresh cut grin. Still disappointed, but in good cheer.] I went for Olympia. Better toilets and less dragons. But if I'm ever in town I'll make good on my word. How-bout it?
[The song does end then, but he doesn't quite let her go.] What's your name?
no subject
There's no real smile on her lips, but just the smallest of quirks at the corner. ]
Sounds fair.
[ Whether or not she'll take him up on the offer without the influence of glitter is anyone's guess, but for now? That was as good as a "yes." ]
Gamora.
[ She doesn't step away from him yet, though without the music, she absolutely could. ]
And you are?
no subject
[Sounds like something from a Philip K. Dick paperback, is what he means.
She's only giving the barest of grins. Probably just rusty in the gears, gotta work out the cheeks and get up to more mischief before she graduates to showing off the pearly whites.
Challenge accepted. He tips his head to the side. The glitter in his brows at at the rims of his glasses and cheeks gives him a glow that borders on impish. He'd make an excellent Puck, were anyone to throw an impromptu showing of A Midsummer Night's Dream.] Call me Rich.
[He neglects to pull away.]
no subject
[ And, of course, she'll remember it.
But the song is over, and she should absolutely step away, but the effects of the glitter still seem to be in full swing. Rather than drop his hand to break apart, she pulls her fingers free to brush gold away from his glasses – lightly, trying not to knock them out of place. ]
This is going to get in your eyes.
no subject
Not one bit.
Though he's stunned for a short second Richie soon tilts his head down a shade, raising his brows so that they pass the rim of the glasses and she can clear away the gold. He shuts his eyes for the sparkling shower. It's an oddly affectionate gesture. One he wouldn't expect out of most girls post the first dance, much less a girl like this.
Feeling emboldened, he cracks open an eye and lifts a thumb to her mouth.]
Don't bite.
[Half joke disguised as a full joke, there, but he's smiling as he does a windshield wipe over the top of her lip. That gets the most of it, though he has to rub that pile off the side of her cheek too.]
no subject
She scrunches her nose ever so briefly when he brushes away the glitter, looking expectantly up at him. ]
Is it gone?
[ Or as gone as it's going to get for now. ]
no subject
[Richie does withdraw then. Something is lost once the contact is broken. Giddy heights fading back to reality. Even so, his smile is genuine, and so is his gratitude.] Thanks for the spin, Miss Thing. Call me whenever.