Ema Skies

October 09, 2020 7:32 AM

The lake house (tag Killian/spiders) by Ema Skies

CW - small but friendly, non-threatening spiders

Ema glanced left and right, even though she knew there was no one about, and then eased the key in the rusted up lock with a wave of her wand. She made her way through the house, opening blinds and windows, trying to chase the smells of dampness and decay from the place she would call home for… well, as long as she felt like really. Pausing at the bedroom window, she surveyed the calm turquoise water outside and felt like she might be content with the answer being ‘a while’ even if she had a fair few spiders and nobody else for company right now.

The lake house had belonged to the parents of some friends of hers in Laos. The parents had been ill for a few years, pushing her friends back to the states for a while. When they had died, they’d left them the lake house, but lovely as it was, that had been one too many things to want to sort out when all they had wanted was to put those last couple of years behind them and get their lives back. Especially as it had already sat empty and unused for a few years by that point, too much for their parents to manage with their declining health.

It was a project. It was a burden. It was hers, for free, for the summer, because getting some air into it would at least pause the clock on whatever decay it was suffering, and any ways she wanted to actively push back against that with cleaning or maintenance were appreciated but not mandated. She thought she might be able to help there. Somehow cleaning was much more satisfying when it wasn’t your own. Plus they didn’t exactly know that she had a literal magic wand up her sleeve, which would make fairly short work of it. She just had to be careful not to do too much. There was a point at which they’d worry that she’d worked herself too hard. There would be the question, unspoken of course, of why, if she was so good at cleaning her own apartment was always such a dumpster fire… A reputation as incredibly clean and well-organised was not a standard she could maintain, but she could make sure this place wasn’t in danger of falling down.

She wasn’t sure why she had invited Killian.

She wasn’t sure if it was guilt, feeling like she had been too judgemental, or whether it was still curiosity, and the idea that he might be a different person when placed in a different situation. Mostly, she supposed, it was the fact that she wasn’t really one for wanting a lot of alone time. It probably didn’t matter anyway. Sure, he’d sounded enthusiastic, but people always did. A lot of people had talked about how exciting it was that she’d moved to Laos and how they’d love to come visit. They never had. Hence now that she was back in the US for a few weeks, she didn’t feel like there were many people who were that big a priority. Not more so than this place, which needed her love and attention. Hence she’d taken a punt on a virtual stranger potentially being up for the adventure. Still, she suspected she’d be making closer friends with the resident arachnids.

“I will call you James,” she declared to the one that was currently lazily crawling its way along the window pane, “I won’t throw you out, and we can be buds, okay?”

And maybe she could have some fun. Scratch that, she was going to have some fun. She was going to swim, and to hike, and to have little cook outs on the pontoon, even if she had them by herself. She doubted he would come. Men were spectacularly impressive at reading every single offer you made them as an offer of something it definitely wasn’t, and so she had been incredibly clear when she invited him up here.

I am not offering to sleep with you. But I am offering you pancakes.

She turned from the window, pulling her hair into a ponytail, and debating whether to get started on the cleaning or to go for a swim first. She thought maybe the latter. It was a lot easier not to keep glancing at your watch when you weren’t wearing one. And after all, it was clearly the thing to do when one had a lake house. And it wasn’t like she should feel like she was waiting for someone.
13 Ema Skies The lake house (tag Killian/spiders) 0 Ema Skies 1 5

Killian Row

October 10, 2020 12:07 PM

Not like the movie, I hope. by Killian Row

Pancakes were one of Killian's favorite things in the world. Sure, he liked other things too, but he found that he wasn't disappointed by Ema's assurance that she wasn't trying to sleep with him. Actually, it was sort of nice somehow; it wasn't often that he got to go into a situation with a new person knowing exactly what the boundaries were and it made navigating them much easier. That wasn't to say that he liked pancakes better than that necessarily - the fact that he'd had as good a time at the staff party as he had was evidence enough of that and WOW did it feel good after so long especially - but he also really liked people. And Ema was a people. She was a pretty cool person as far as he could tell, although he hadn't expected that she thought he was cool enough to invite to spend a non-specific number of days with her. Even if it really only came down to being lonely, he could understand that. Sometimes you just needed company, of one sort or another, and someone who was willing to ask for exactly that was someone he wanted to get to know better.

He'd been instructed to bring clothes for however long he was staying and given some information about what was available so he knew to bring good shoes for hiking or walking outdoors, swim trunks, etc. He was excited to get to just play. Much as Jean-Loup liked to say he wasn't outdoorsy or athletic (and much as Jean-Loup would be right), Killian wasn't against those things either. His recent weeks of working out also made him more comfortable being active and he felt more inclined to play than usual. He'd been a whole lot of Hufflepuff when he was younger, and most of the time he thought he'd probably be a Teppenpaw if he'd been at Sonora, but there was definitely a solid Pecari streak in him; sometimes that looked like getting through things and being adaptable, and sometimes that looked like package swim trunks and hiking shoes to spend a non-specific number of days with a pretty lady in a cabin. He suspected the number of days he spent there would be inversely proportionate to how big a jerk he was, although he hoped she didn't think he was a jerk.

At one point, it did cross his mind to be nervous, but he couldn't quite identify why. There was something nerve-wracking about committing to spend so much time one-on-one with someone you didn't know well, but he wasn't sure that was it. He had the distinct sense that it was something to do with the unfamiliarity of experiencing the sort of easy happiness that came with adventures like these. This wasn't a birthday party where everyone was going to grow up or leave, and this wasn't a fling at a barbeque, this was genuine time with someone he was excited to get to know better. Even if they only ever ate pancakes together for the rest of their lives, that was valuable, and he didn't want to make her think otherwise for a moment. He'd also packed a small amount of his sourdough starter though - really, Marsh' sourdough starter - just in case she wanted to make things other than pancakes.

She was swimming when he got there and he was surprised both by how beautiful the house and lakeside were, and how beautiful she was. It was an irritating thought that he put away as quickly as it had come. Setting down his bag, he made his way towards the shore, sticking his hands in his pockets with a grin as he approached.

"Good day for a swim," he observed. "Mind if I join you?" He would definitely need to run inside and change if that were the case, but it would be nice to start out with the weird part - something about undressing in front of someone you weren't about to sleep with and then being partly naked and wet and exposed was definitely the weird part - and let things go from there. Plus it was a warm day and definitely good weather for this sort of thing.
22 Killian Row Not like the movie, I hope. 1450 0 5


Ema Skies

October 10, 2020 6:34 PM

Timey-wimey something, plot twist = one of them is actually dead? by Ema Skies

The parrots on Ema's bikini fluttered to and fro as she lazed in the water. It was nice to be able to relax the animation charms on things for a change, and her tattoos likewise were in motion, though both were currently hidden beneath the water.

She had been alternating between being a starfish, floating on her back staring up at the cloud-spotted sky, and jerking upright, convinced that underneath the lap of the water in her ears, that really could have been the 'pop' of aparation. This time though, when she looked up, there actually was someone there, and the pop was followed by footsteps as Killian made his way over. Ema swam over to the jetty, feeling fresh drops of lake water sliding into her mouth as she grinned broadly.

She hoisted herself half out of the water, elbows on the jetty, running a hand over her face to remove the worst of the platestered down hair strands.

"You actually came," she stated, and it was clear that this both a surprising turn of events but also a very welcome one. For the briefest second, a flicker of doubt appeared, wondering if Killian was here to get something that had not been offered, but then the happiness returned.

"That's probably a better way of getting a hug than me climbing out there to give you one," she grinned when he asked about going for a swim. She reached playfully for his ankle, not intending to actually connect, but merely to emphasise the way that water was currently dripping off her arms and that getting hugged was going to be a soggy process. She probably looked like some kind of dripping lake monster, but hopefully a cute one. "Come on in, the water's lovely," she emphasised the invite, though clearly he had to go change first.

Once he was properly attired (showing off a surprisingly hairy chest, which was not her favourite look) and in the water, she splashed over to give him the promised hug. On land, it would have been an exuberant affair. Water slowed things down. There was a portion around the jetty where she could put her feet down, but she had been staying well out of her depth, floating whenever she felt like conserving energy. When you hugged someone in water, the best way was to both keep kicking, or to wrap yourselves around them whilst they held you up. Ema went for option three. She threw her arms around Killian's shoulders, stopping her own kicks, her body drifting slightly into his. She wasn't sure if he was able to stand, or would kick to keep them afloat, but she merely trusted him, just for a second or two, to bear both their weight.

It made her think of the fact that sea otter couples held paws whilst they slept so that they wouldn't drift away from each other. But that sounded far too like a level of commitment that she wasn't asking for. And, for all she knew, drifting away in the night was exactly what Killian preferred to do. And anyway, it wasn't like she would be hanging around either. They each had their own separate lives to go back to, on different sides of the globe, when this was done. For a few days, they could shut out the rest of the world, and swim and make each other pancakes and sunbathe on the jetty, leaning on each other. And then she would do what she was doing now...

"It's nice to see you," she told him, letting go again before they were in danger of sinking.

13 Ema Skies Timey-wimey something, plot twist = one of them is actually dead? 0 Ema Skies 0 5

Killian Row

October 10, 2020 8:45 PM

Wikipedia says it works out in the end though! by Killian Row

"Of course," he grinned, a little surprised and sad that she didn't really expect him to. There was something sort of wonderful about the fact that she was doing what she was doing and wearing what she was wearing just for herself though. Independence was a trait he'd acquired but not one he naturally felt he possessed and it was a bit inspiring to see someone else who was clearly more independent than he was. He also liked to think that she'd held out some hope and her happy tone suggested she was at least glad he'd come, even if she hadn't really expected him to do so.

He took a quick step back, narrowly avoiding her grab, and laughed, "Nooo-hoo-hoo!! Change first. Inside is fine?" he confirmed. "I'll take the hug when I'm back though," he promised over his shoulder as he turned and jogged back to the house, grabbing his bag and stepping inside. It was a little ramshackle but it looked like it was more a matter of neglect than actual disrepair and it was a cute place. He wasn't about to go poking around looking for bathrooms or counting bedrooms - although he sort of wanted to - so he stayed in the living room to change into his trunks. There was a window there, but it was at an angle that he was pretty sure Ema wasn't about to see anything below the belt even if she was peeping at him. He eyed the couch a little as he changed, hoping he wouldn't be sleeping there but also glad it didn't look too horribly uncomfortable if he did. A few charms would make it workable and he'd packed a blanket and pillow just in case.

He left his bag in the living room after shoving his clothes inside it and made his way more carefully back to the water since he no longer wore shoes. He considered jumping in cannonball style and decided that was a bit much, especially if the water was anything like the Irish lakes he was used to and he was about to be a popsicle, but wasn't about to slow-walk his way towards her either; she was far enough in that that wasn't going to be ideal. Instead, he headed down the jetty and lowered himself onto the side before sort of plopping into the water, giving a shiver but ultimately finding it wasn't uncomfortably cold.

Ema was a nice hugger and she was soft and warm and he kind of just wanted to keep hugging her. It was the sort of hug that made him feel good about himself because the best hugs meant you got to wrap your arms around someone and hold on tight. He couldn't reach the bottom comfortably enough to stand but could kick off a bit to keep them afloat, and he was a strong swimmer, so kicking did the trick as well. He was grinning when she let go. "It's nice to see you too," he told her happily. "It's really beautiful here," he added glancing around.

It was good and refreshing to swim, in part because it had been a while since he'd done it with any sort of leisure in mind. The lake near his parents' house kept him occupied but it was for exercise and rejuvenation more than recreation. Since Bonny had come to live there, it had been a bit more fun, but swimming around with his niece wasn't quite the same as swimming around with Ema and he found himself unable to help smiling most of the time. Ema herself seemed playful as well, and he didn't bother to contain his smile as they swam around each other, exchanging touches that were maybe just friendly and maybe made Killian glad the water was at least a little cold. The area around the lake was quiet save for themselves and the sounds of nature, and at some point, they returned to the same thing Ema appeared to have been doing before Killian arrived: floating and enjoying the sky. Killian kept his head turned enough that one ear was out so he could hear Ema if she spoke, and his arms drifted away from him so as to brush against her periodically and make sure he didn't float too far away.

"It feels . . . clean here. Like all the rest of the world is just on pause and you can really really breathe," he told her softly.

OOC - Summary and Ema's general behavior approved by her author.
22 Killian Row Wikipedia says it works out in the end though! 1450 0 5


Ema Skies

October 11, 2020 3:34 AM

Yeah, I really don't remember much about it except vague disappointment? by Ema Skies

So far, they hadn't drowned. It was a pretty low bar for success and Ema was aiming higher than that, but it was a good start. He hadn't let them sink, he appreciated the view, and he also seemed to want to be a starfish staring at the sky.

He was feeling clean, and able to breathe, which were good things, and things she wanted for him, though they had interesting implications if he had been feeling their opposites before... Or perhaps she was projecting something she shouldn't there. He had said the place was clean, not that it was cleansing.

"Yeah," she agreed, "It's hard to feel out of step if the world isn't moving much," she summarised her own feelings, watching the clouds as they lazily bumped across the sky, seeming in no particular hurry to get anywhere. His hands had brushed up against her a few times, and she was finding that the hug from earlier was wearing off more and more. Especially when he said things like that. Things that indicated they were connecting made Ema want to connect in the arms around you, squish you, touch you, then stop before it gets scary ways. That probably required something a little more stable than lake water underneath them though.

"It is, however, easy to get cold and prune-fingered," she admitted sitting up so that she was treading water, and holding up one hand for inspection. "Shall we?" she nodded to the jetty.

As she placed her hands on it, the call of the water almost pulled her back. She wasn't too cold really, and once Ema was in any given body of water, she found she never wanted to leave it. But a glance over her shoulder at Killian reminded her what she wanted more right now.

She placed her palms on the jetty, pushing herself up, her torso rising easily enough out of the water, before she had to somehow get her knees out too, which definitely involved going 'urgh' and was not one smooth and graceful motion. She was pretty sure there was no way to do that elegantly unless you were secretly some kind of parkour ninja, so whatever.

She reached into a pocket on her bikini bottoms, pulling out her wand, and thanking whoever had invented those spells yet again for the possibility of secure and deep pockets that didn't affect the fit of a garment even on swimwear.

"Accio towels," she summoned, and a couple of them came flying out the house. "Make yourself comfortable," she invited, spreading hers on the jetty, stretching out on her belly in the sunshine. She smiled as Killian followed suit, propping herself up on an elbow so she could watch him.

"I guess I don't need to worry so much about dripping on you now," she smiled, holding out a hand so that the drops ran off it and onto his chest. "Can't make you soggy if you already are," she added, trailing her wet fingers through his sopping hair.

OOC - god-modding approved by Killian
13 Ema Skies Yeah, I really don't remember much about it except vague disappointment? 0 Ema Skies 0 5

Killian Row

October 11, 2020 7:29 AM

I don't think I've actually seen it. by Killian Row

Killian tried not to be too interested as Ema suggested they get out, or when she actually got out. He even politely looked away so as not to notice the way the water dripped off her mostly exposed skin. When it was his own turn to get out, he pushed himself up and turned so he could sit before climbing out backwards the rest of the way.

He was using his hands to brush off some of the water on his torso and hair when Ema summoned towels and he took the one she offered him - not the one he'd brought, which made him feel a little bad - with a smile. It was soft and squishy and perfect, and he followed Ema's lead in laying on the dock.

The water dripping on his chest got a laugh and a playful attempt to brush the cold water away, but he merely watched her face when she brushed her hand through his hair. For all that he knew she wanted pancakes, he also knew that he didn't just want pancakes. It was an odd feeling in his stomach because he had never ever found something that mattered more in terms of getting with someone than consent did, but he also didn't want to just stamp out any sense of desire altogether, especially when Ema seemed to be giving mixed signals. Of course, perhaps this was her pancakes. Touching and being close was nice, even if it ended there. Sometimes especially when it ended there.

He caught her wrist in his hand on the next pass and kissed the palm of her hand with a quick movement before releasing it and smiling at her with a lazy, playful expression, his hand landing on his own chest as he looked at her. It hadn't been more than a friendly peck, if there were such a thing, and he tried to gauge her response.

"I'm not worried," he promised. For all that it was a beautiful day and the sun was warming them up, he found that he'd rather watch her than the clouds. It was easier than he expected to make that be neutral. It felt good to have her fingers in his hair and it felt good to lay here in the sun with someone that he could be friends with. It didn't have to be the toast that came with a bigger meal, it could just be the pancakes. He closed his eyes and let out a low contented sound before opening one again and looking at her quizzically. "Do you like that too?" he asked, reaching up his hand to brush it through her hair in return.
22 Killian Row I don't think I've actually seen it. 1450 0 5


Ema Skies

October 11, 2020 8:33 AM

Movie date? by Ema Skies

She watched Killian’s face as he laughed and smiled at her. She thought he had kind eyes, but she felt like she thought that far too often about people. Maybe she just liked eyes when they were smiling, and someone would have to be truly dead inside, with the cold hard stare of a serial killer, for her not to fall for their eyes. They made her soften further, but she didn’t take them as enough of a guarantee. Though for now, she was very, very happy to look into them.

Then he grabbed. He grabbed her wrist and kissed her palm, and she wasn’t sure if that was meant to be cheeky and cute, but the fact it was surprising showed more clearly than anything on her face. Admittedly, she had been staring down at him, and thinking how nice it would be to sink in a little deeper. She tried not to jerk her hand reflexively away. That kind of action drew sharp lines across interactions, and she didn’t want to do that. She didn’t want to push him away. It stalled though, her hand lulled to a stop as it completed the pass she was making through his hair.

He wasn’t worried. That made one of them. Why had he kissed her hand? Maybe he ‘didn’t mean anything by it,’ but she wasn’t sure she liked an excuse that implied that the act of kissing someone was casual and disposable. But maybe he did, and it was a sign that he didn’t want to play by the rules she had set. The trouble was that, whilst a gentle passing kiss on the palm of the hand was a nice thing in and of itself, it was hard to find a reason for it that she liked. Did the action mean that she was someone he wanted to kiss? Repeatedly, more intimately? It was hard to explain that she didn’t want him to say yes to that, whilst also showing him that the thought of being scooped into his arms and smushing his face off was really appealing. She wanted him to be a good enough for person for it to be possible for yes to be the answer, and so far he had achieved the level of ‘probably not a serial killer’ and ‘did not let me drown’ which was very far below the standard she was looking for.

He reached up to pet her hair. If he had caught sight of the tattoo on her thigh, he would have noticed that it was a magic wand waving a patronus into existence, and that the ghostly white shape that periodically stalked across her skin was a kneazle. She didn’t draw his attention to it now - she might have, had things been different but it did not exactly seem the moment to point out ‘hey there, feel free to stare at my exposed body’ - but yes, scritchies were very much welcome. So long as they were from trustworthy people.

“Yes, I do,” she confirmed that she appreciated the sensation of his hands in her hair, though her tone was one that was both cautious and cationing. Just because she liked that did not mean he should assume he could take liberties.
13 Ema Skies Movie date? 0 Ema Skies 0 5

Killian Row

October 11, 2020 2:57 PM

That sounds good to me! by Killian Row

Killian kept his movements repetitive and gentle as he brushed his fingers through Ema's hair. He wanted to brush the backs of his fingers against her skin, but he didn't. He could see in the way she looked at him and hear in the way she talked to him that he had scared her. Maybe scared wasn't the right word, but it wasn't a good thing he'd done. That wasn't something he liked to do to people and he hadn't meant to do it in this case.

"I'm sorry," he murmured softly, searching her face. "I made you uncomfortable. I'll be more careful," he promised. With the lake waters lapping gently in the breeze and the sound of nature the only background noise, his voice should have been loud but it wasn't; it seemed very quiet and very small. "I was not trying to push your boundaries, and I don't want to push your boundaries," he added. Being so explicit felt odd but then, this whole thing was odd in some ways and it was nice because of that. Perhaps transparency and outright honesty was a good way to go. Certainly vulnerability had its place, and what was transparency but a glass pane between your heart and the other person's?

He put his hand down and rolled over, mirroring Ema's position as he rested his chin on one fist and looked at her. The sun felt good and invigorating on his back and shoulders and he thought that men definitely had the advantage in the swimsuit department for sake of sunbathing. Of course, his thighs were going to be wet and sticky until he got changed, so maybe it came out even. Plus, he supposed he could have worn something closer to what she wore on the bottom, and she could wear nothing on top. Gendered clothes were weird. He pushed all of those thoughts aside with as big a stage sweep as he could manage because those were not the sort of thoughts he wanted to be entertaining right now. Instead, he considered Ema with a contented expression, keeping enough distance between them so as not to invade her personal space - hopefully.

"Pancakes are just fine," he promised with a wry smile, giving voice to what he'd been thinking for most of the day. "And swimming and hiking and all those sorts of things." He shrugged. "Or other sorts of things." He didn't necessarily want to rule out friendly snuggles just yet either because one should never be hasty about ruling out friendly snuggles. "All sorts of things. Thank you for inviting me. It's nice here and it's nice spending time with you."
22 Killian Row That sounds good to me! 1450 0 5


Ema Skies

October 11, 2020 10:36 PM

There could be blankets and big cosy socks by Ema Skies

Ema was used to provoking a fair few reactions in people. Guilt was a very occasional one, though frustration and annoyance were more common. As was just not freaking learning. Killian didn’t seem any of those things. He was sincerely sorry. He understood what he had done without her explaining it.

“Thank you,” she accepted the apology and the promise. She wasn’t quite smiling at him again because she still too surprised and now also just feeling a little bit smushy, but she relaxed into the way his hand was petting her hair. She felt a slight pang of regret as he rolled onto his front. It felt a little more closed off than when she had been poised with an arm crossing his body. She took a deep breath, trying to see and to hear him, and to not automatically assume that anything he was saying or doing was him shutting down in disappointment with her. He said he was glad to be here.

She put her arm back down, lying the same way he was lying, and that was its own sort of cosy and companionable. She smiled at him as she did so. She could kick her legs out or she could roll her hip or her shoulder to bump him. She wasn’t going to, but he wasn’t too far away for it to be possible. She curled one arm in front of herself to make a pillow, dropping her head to rest on it and hoping he’d do the same, so they could be mirror images, nose to nose and within breathing distance of each other. She could smell towels and lake water, her own skin and hair had been stripped of their usual scents. Right now, he probably smelt the same as she did. She wondered what he smelt like when he hadn’t just been dunked in a lake, and when she’d get to find that out.

“I’m sorry if I confused you. I confuse a lot of people,” she admitted, because it seemed only fair. Killian didn’t seem like a bad person, and by his own admission, he didn’t want to push past any boundaries that she’d established. “Though, to be fair, they confuse the heck out of me right back,” she added, jutting her chin out and frowning with slight comic exaggeration. “I’m rapidly coming to the conclusion that no two people agree on what any given gesture means, or what constitutes intimacy, or romance, or flirting. Which sort of helps me not feel like a freak, but also means we’re all doomed to misunderstand each other forever.

“The way I see it… There are lots of pretty people. And lots of them can be charming and funny and… appealing. And there’s also certain types of people I wouldn’t touch with a barge poll. Racists, homophobes, people who are cruel to animals. It wouldn’t matter what else they had going for them. But once I start to think of it in those terms, in my head it turns into… So, is my standard ‘must meet basic lowest bar for being an acceptable human.’ That doesn’t sound right. I think I’m actually pretty darn fantastic. If someone wants to sleep with me, I would like the fact of it being me to actually factor into the equation, rather than they just felt like sleeping with someone and I was the next available body that met their base standard for attractiveness. That’s not a compliment. And I’m not saying anyone who behaves a different way to me thinks that way, or has low self-worth or is doing something morally questionable. It just doesn’t tie into things the way it does for me. They look at actions and their meanings through a whole different lens.

“I feel like I’m starting to know you. A bit,” she stated, “And that makes me want to touch you. I like hands on skin. I like hair touches. I like the idea of being wrapped up in someone like they are a big human blanket, or trying to do the same for them even if they’re bigger than me,” she told him. She felt like there was a specific kind of loneliness in not being touched by other human beings in deep and loving ways, but it was so hard to find someone who had the patience to let her touch them in all the ways she liked without them ending up saying or implying they were hoping they got to the good bits soon… It wasn’t like she couldn’t feel that pull herself, but there was a certain line where her mind came to a screeching halt unless she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the person she was with was a thoroughly good human.

“What’s it like in your brain?” she asked.
13 Ema Skies There could be blankets and big cosy socks 0 Ema Skies 0 5

Killian Row

October 11, 2020 11:38 PM

And tea? by Killian Row

Ema relaxed and so Killian relaxed. It was funny how little he really knew her but yet how much that little gesture resonated with him as well. His mood seemed very linked to hers somehow, and he thought that maybe it was some instinct to wrap her up and make her safe. She seemed . . . not fragile. She seemed far from fragile. But maybe the kneazle on her leg that he was definitely not noticing too much was a good parallel - she was small and fierce and intelligent, but still small. This instinct manifested again when she dropped her head onto her arm and he was torn between naturally copying the motion, and keeping his head up to keep an eye on everything. She drew him in though with her big eyes and gave into the urge to just lay there in companionable peace with her. His own arm was a fair bit larger than hers so his head was still up higher, but it was close enough.

He pressed his lips together in a kind, amused smile as she apologised for being confusing and explained that she was often confused as well. "I make a living trying to help teenagers figure out the rest of their lives," he pointed out. "I do well with confusion." He followed this by nodding empathetically at the idea that they were all doomed to misunderstand each other forever. That seemed like the truest thing he'd ever heard someone say and he'd heard his mom say she loved him before.

He wanted to interrupt with a joke of some sort at times, or with vehement agreement (because racists and homophobes and animal abusers were awful people), but he kept quiet, just watching the way she talked and listening to the words she chose to say, and nodding as his own silent form of solidarity. He did feel a bit squirmy as she went on to talk more about her wants in terms of sleeping with someone though, because he wasn't quite sure if she meant to call him out or not. Had she ruled him out just because he didn't mind casual things the way she seemed to? He supposed that was fair - everyone had the right to whatever sorts of boundaries they wanted to set - but it did make him a bit sad to think about. That surprised him; he had more invested in this encounter than he'd expected. His worries turned into squishy feelings in his chest though when she went on to explain the things she did want and the things she did like. He wanted very much to wrap her up like a human blanket.

"My brain . . . hmmm. It's different than that, but not necessarily all the time or all that different." He tried not to look at her too closely because people should be allowed to react without being scrutinized for it, but he also knew that was a habit that came from work and so he did try to remain attentive to her and show it with his gaze. "I like hair touches and hands on skin, but I also like unfamiliar bedrooms and leaving without a kiss. But . . . not from the same person. Like, that doesn't have to be all from one person. It's okay with me if someone is one way or the other, or somewhere in between. It's alright with me to be with one person, but I'm also happy being with more than one person, because people are different and I can't quite wrap my head around expecting one person to be everything for you. I like breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Sometimes I want breakfast for dinner, but sometimes I just want dinner. In a single day, I wouldn't just want to eat breakfast for all three meals, even if breakfast is my favorite meal. At the same time, if I found a great breakfast recipe or if I found a great place that serves amazing breakfast, I might be pretty content with breakfast for every meal until I'm introduced to a really great lunch place, and then I'll maybe want that too. Maybe I'll have breakfast and lunch every day, and maybe I'll have breakfast every day and just have lunch sometimes." He was wildly out of practice with explaining his brain. Jean-Loup had had some questions, but they'd mostly talked in circles around these topics, and he hadn't had the opportunity to talk to people about it without just using the labels that made the world a little more clear and boxy sometimes. Laying here on a dock with Ema, boxy didn't feel right. He wanted to use his own words and say who he was, but he couldn't remember maybe ever having done that. Still, this wasn't his finest explanation of anything. "I'm rambling," he acknowledged with a lighthearted grimace. "I sound like a kid trying to explain my own brain."
22 Killian Row And tea? 1450 0 5


Ema Skies

October 12, 2020 6:08 AM

Whatever floats your boat, baby by Ema Skies

“Oof, I hope I have myself a little more together than that,” Ema laughed, when Killian reminded her that his usual conversation partners were teenagers. “Sometimes I think I don’t, but then I look back and it’s like… Hey, you maybe hate going to the bank but you’re not having a meltdown because you lost your favourite crayon or whatever. I mean, I usually look a bit further back than the teenage years,” she confirmed. “And at the time, I’m sure that seemed like a life altering tragedy, and now I just take that kind of thing in my stride. Mostly.” Having feelings about the potential feelings of inanimate objects was something of her speciality, and it was even easier given how common animation charms were in the wizard world. She would still not tell her favourite pens to their faces that she would not mourn their losses, and it would probably be a lie if she tried it. But she could get through those things. “But point taken, confusion is your speciality.”

She listened carefully as Killian explained himself. The idea of sneaking out of bedrooms wanted to get a sharp inhale, and a slight drawing back but she resisted her natural reaction. Killian was allowed to be okay with something she wasn’t. Especially as the more he talked, the less and less she believed he would do that to her. Or even that he wanted to do that to her ‘if he could get away with it.’ He could understand that she didn’t want the same things as other people might get from him or be happy taking from him. And he seemed to be suggesting that he could do one thing with them, and a different thing with her and not be waiting for her to become like everyone else.

She wasn’t sure at first about the food analogy. Food was a complicated one, as was comparing people to it. Ema liked food. She could readily admit that she was not the most conscientious person, and that she probably didn’t take care to balance her diet, or make sure there was more fruit than potato chips, or to measure pasta by anything except eye, get it tragically wrong and then eat all of it anyway. She wasn’t a healthy eater, and she couldn’t understand the idea of denying herself enjoyment in the name of some higher purpose. But equally, she couldn’t imagine being truly greedy. Greed, excess, and the idea of ‘just not being able to help yourself’ all bothered her. She didn’t like when people talked like a total lack of self-control was somehow wild and fun instead of just dangerous, and a problem that needed addressing.

But Killian was not talking about that. He was talking about variety being the spice of life, which was a philosophy Ema could very much get behind.

“I like having breakfast for dinner,” she admitted, “Er, in my case super literally. And not all the time, but yeah… I don’t understand people who have favourites, or can just eat the same thing on repeat without getting bored. I mean, I have favourites, but like I have my favourite in each restaurant, or my favourite that I can cook for myself, or my favourite home cooked meal. Or like how people can just read one genre of books or listen to one genre of music like, don’t they get bored?” she stopped herself. “Now I’m rambling,” she stated. ”For what it’s worth, I think you did pretty well,” she added, regarding his own explanation. “People either end up dismissing the question or talking themselves into knots. It’s amazing how many of the things we think are fundamental to our sense of selves dissolve like dreams on waking when we try to put them into words. Or just end up sounding reductively simple when they feel complex. Like, did I basically get all deep saying my whole philosophy on life is that I only like people who are nice to me? Sounds kinda simple and obvious when you put it like that.”

She knew people who did the poly thing. It was a thing that, on paper, she could see the arguments for. Theoretically, it made a lot of sense. She just wasn’t sure how it would feel doing it practically. It took a long time to build a relationship with one person, not that she would have to be the one seeing multiple people, but it was just hard not to imagine being sidelined for never being enough. There’d always be the offer of more “fun” from someone else, because it was hard to imagine many people who offered less without having entered a convent, and that - time and time again - was the message society forced in her face as the thing people wanted. She could be fun. But fun didn’t compete with “fun.” But the way Killian was talking to her… She didn’t hate anything he was saying.

She let her leg roll up against his. Not exactly playing footsie, though that didn’t sound too bad, but just so there was some level of physical connection. She wanted to reach out and pet his hair more. She wanted specifically him to wrap up her up right now. She wanted to check…

“So, you’re saying that if you could still have… however long up here, at the house but you could swap me out for someone who would-” she was an adult. She could say the thing, “-be more forthcoming,” Oh Merlin, what the heck Ema? “You…?” the question trailed, waiting for him to finish.
13 Ema Skies Whatever floats your boat, baby 0 Ema Skies 0 5

Killian Row

October 12, 2020 11:40 AM

Are we on to pet names now? by Killian Row

Killian laughed at the idea of most of the students he worked with getting worked up over lost crayons. It wasn't impossible - he was sure that several of them would love the chance to just hang out and color - but it wasn't what his office hours were usually filled with either. "A lost crayon might be easier to fix," he pointed out. "Yes," he agreed when she concluded. "Although I'll give you that I usually have a fun pamphlet or something to go with it."

He nodded as she dissected his food analogy, quickly deciding it was a terrible analogy. "It's not perfect," he acknowledged with a small smile. "For one, humans generally have to eat a certain amount every day, and there are certain nutritional things to think about. Except vegetables, those are boycotted still. But yeah, you have all those different favorite meals . . . they're still your favorite meals, you just like them for different things. One isn't better than another. Just different. Sometimes you want one, sometimes you want the other." He hoped he was making sense and was pretty sure he wasn't, but Ema seemed to think he was at least semi-clear, so that was good. "For what it's worth, I think liking people who are nice to you is a pretty good standard, and another thing I would be happy to have you teach some of the young people I work with. It's weird, because there are words for all these things, but they don't always feel right. It should be easy to just replace the word with the definition and vice versa, but it's not that simple."

Ema's leg brushed against his and he had a hard time trying to decide how to respond. He wondered if she was being that careful. It seemed like he was maybe taking her boundaries into account a lot more than she was taking his, although she wasn't wrong about the guesses she was making and he had kissed her hand after all. That was the weird thing about intimacy that wasn't just casual. With casual things, it was important to verbally check for consent for every little thing, or to read cues and provide cues very clearly because there wasn't time to build up to feeling the other person's boundaries out. In this case, they did have time. But his boundaries seemed to encompass a lot more things than hers and he didn't want to feel her boundaries out and accidentally make her think he was trying to feel her up. Instead, he watched her face and very carefully brought his free hand up to her shoulder to trace a few small circles there.

"You like touch," he said softly. "I like touch too." He nodded towards their legs. "Just let me know if I make you uncomfortable again? And I'll let you know too."

He considered for a moment when she asked her question, both because he wanted to answer sincerely and because he doubted she'd believe him if he answered too fast. However, it really only took a moment to come to a conclusion. "Wouldn't trade you for the world," he promised. "If another day, another person invited me to another lake house and they were 'forthcoming', that wouldn't bother me. But I like being here with you and you don't have to change your mind about what you want to do while I'm here to make me want to be around you. I'm not opposed to doing those things," he added with a small smirk, "but I'm also not opposed to not touching at all, or to just nice touches like this. Or whatever. Believe it or not, I came out here because your personality made me want to, and because you offered pancakes, not because of anything else."

He felt very silly somehow. It was like going to a diner at lunch time and saying lunch was fine but also if they had a breakfast menu he wouldn't be opposed but really lunch was fine. The metaphor really didn't hold water when you started picking it apart. Still, it did make him think again of his own boundaries, and he glanced away for a moment, looking cautious himself for the first time. "But if you do decide to jump me, let me know that's what you're doing maybe? I don't want to misread something. You said no, so it's no up until and if you say otherwise. And I say otherwise? Until all involved parties are informed, consenting adults."
22 Killian Row Are we on to pet names now? 1450 0 5


Ema Skies

October 12, 2020 6:05 PM

I'm game if you are by Ema Skies

Ema was pretty sure there were fun pamphlets about her. Maybe. The term ‘demi-sexual’ was one she had batted around in her own brain a few times, but out loud she was sure she was going to be asked to constantly explain or justify that, and the explaining part didn’t always feel like it worked. Except now. But now they’d somehow got through the explanation, and it didn’t feel like they needed a word because they understood each other anyway. And Killian seemed to be having weirdly similar thoughts.

“Agreed,” she nodded.

She smiled as his hand traced little circles on her shoulder. It tickled in just the right way, where she half wanted to shake him off and half wanted to let him do that forever. As he talked through what they were doing, she was surprised to hear him say he might get uncomfortable. He was the kind of person who seemed comfortable with everything.

He was not opposed to a different lake house full of sexy fun times. It sparked a slight sting of jealousy, but it was also hard to be jealous of something that was very much imaginary. Not that he couldn’t go out and find people other than her to spend time with, but the more you compared them, the less they seemed comparable. The less one of them seemed lesser. He certainly wasn’t saying so, and she made a little noise, just an involuntary sound that didn’t know what word it wanted to be, but definitely a happy one.

And then the consent and the boundaries talk was back, and he was doing it again - putting them both on an equal footing, like they were both just as unsure what they wanted to do with each other. But then, as he’d said, not necessarily everything from everyone. It was a strange feeling, not to feel like the other person was ready to run, and was constantly waiting for her to catch up.

“Here is where we are now, and we can talk about anywhere else we’re going,” she confirmed. And he hands twitched and she wanted to just wrap herself all around him and tell him he was the cutest.

“I would very much like to stroke your face,” she checked, reaching out when he seemed willing, “And to be all wrapped up in your arms right now.” He obliged, lying back and scooping her in. She lay across his lefthand side, her leg hooked over his, her head against his chest. And all humans had a heartbeat. If they didn’t, there was something very wrong and it was probably time to do something a bit more urgent than snuggle. She didn’t want to pass comment on its existence, because that seemed silly. It shouldn’t have been unusual.

“It’s been a long time since I listened to someone’s heartbeat,” she said instead. She closed her eyes, putting her arm around him, twining their feet a little, seeking out every little way to twist them just that bit closer together, and gave a small sigh of contentment.

She stayed still for a moment, listening to the steady rhythms of the lake lapping and his heart-beating. Part of her wanted to just stay so still that she fell asleep. Although staying still wasn’t always something she was very good at, and her feet wanted to keep fidgeting, keep playing with his feet… Sometimes she wondered whether she talked so much so that she could get to touching – so that she felt sufficiently comfortable and confident that she knew the person on the receiving end of it – and sometimes it felt like she did it to keep herself from touching. Right now, she thought she could very easily slip into letting her hands explore… But it didn’t seem fair.

“So, that’s why I feel out of step with the world sometimes,” she signed off one of the problems that had been raised while they were floating on the lake. “Would it ruin your sense of tranquility to talk about why you need somewhere to breathe?”

OOC - god-modding approved by Killian
13 Ema Skies I'm game if you are 0 Ema Skies 0 5

Killian Row

October 12, 2020 6:30 PM

I'm not very good at them. "Kitten" feels both fitting and demeaning. by Killian Row

"Here is good," Killian breathed, his voice feeling like it was in danger of being too loud again. His lips pressed together into a small smile because he felt like a cute lil puppy when she said she wanted to stroke his face. Except like a scraggly puppy because he hadn't shaved for a while and he probably should have, in retrospect. It felt good to have her hands on his face. To have someone touch him like he was sort of precious in a way. He was a big fan of the sort of touching he and Charlie had gotten up to but it wasn't the same and it had only been a balm to soothe his lonely body, not his lonely heart. This was much more effective in the latter sense and he breathed a deep sigh of contentedness as he relaxed into her hand.

She wanted to be scooped up and he was more than happy to oblige because the world was big and she was small and he was sort of medium, so at least he could make her be a little bit less smushable. Plus she was soft, and it felt nice to have her close. His cheek pressed against her hair, his opposite arm under his head to provide enough lift to make that possible, and he inhaled the way she smelled. It was mostly like water, but they were drying out pretty well now and there was something else there, something distinctly 'Ema' about it. His eyes closed and he listened to everything and nothing while she apparently listened to his heartbeat. She seemed happy and very much like a kneazle as she wrapped herself against his side. He moved the arm that he'd had on her shoulder to her waist, gingerly placing it in the safe zone between the two pieces of her swimsuit as she moved her arm to reach further around him.

"Careful," he warned with a laugh. "You'll get to hear all sorts of things," he said with another content sigh as his heart did a shy little flutter in response to her holding on to him. He thought that he should be the perfect cardiogram of chill, totally comfortable with this, but he actually didn't get to snuggle very often and it made him feel soft and safe and squishy.

His heart did a very different sort of stammer when she asked about why he needed to breathe, but quickly settled again as he tightened his arm around her, as if to reassure himself that she wasn't going to run away. That she was still there. "A lot of family changes all at once," he said slowly. "And I made a new friend over the school year but he's moved now, so I miss him a bit. But the family stuff is the big part I think." He didn't really want to talk about it, but found also that he very much did want to talk about it. That he wanted to tell someone. "I found out I have a niece last year because she was about to start school. My brother and I aren't close. But then he sort of disappeared at Christmastime so my niece has been living with my parents in Ireland and I've been staying there a lot to be there for her and my parents. And it's weird. I'm trying to find out what happened to my brother. Your dad is helping me actually," he said, remembering the connection and wondering whether Mr. Skies would murder him if he saw this scene. "Is that weird for you?" he asked. "That I work with your mom and stuff?"
22 Killian Row I'm not very good at them. "Kitten" feels both fitting and demeaning. 1450 0 5


Ema Skies

October 12, 2020 8:56 PM

Work it out as we go? by Ema Skies

Killian’s arm around her waist received a little ‘mm’ of contentment and approval. It was hard not to want to move in response, even though he was presumably responding to what she had done. It was like that stupid game where you both tried to get your hand on top, each movement triggering another until you just blurred into a big mess. She kept her hands where they were, but traced circles on the nearest available bit of Killian, the way he’d done on her shoulder.

“Like what, got cogs and gears in there too?” she teased, when he warned her she’d hear all sorts. “Or do you mean I might get to work out what makes your heart beat a little faster?” she asked. It was very tempting to begin that research right now (and in fact, she listened carefully, wondering whether it was just her imagination that that sentence itself had had an effect?) but also they had serious things to talk about. “That sounds like a fun project,” she stated, hoping that established her interest in the idea but let him know that she wasn’t about to start playing with him right now. Reassuring him. It was still an odd thing to think about having to do that, but it felt nice knowing that someone else in this interaction needed taking care of. She liked to think that was something she was passably good at.

She listened carefully as he talked. Missing his friend. Uh-huh… She carefully weighed her reaction to that, wondering whether it was her own nosiness or her desire to be supportive that was pushing a particular question to the front of her brain. She couldn’t totally rule out it being both, but she thought it was a fair question to ask in pursuit of the latter, even if it also conveniently served the former.

“Do you think you’ll see him again?” she asked.

Beyond that though there was a whole heck tonne of stuff to unpack. Disappeared like… disappeared? Ema sat up slightly, carefully and slowly so as to try not dislodge Killian’s arm or seem like she was any less connected with him because boy did it sound like he needed all of the squishy hugs right now. But she wanted to really look at him, because it was important to see someone’s face and check if they were doing okay with this kind of conversation, and maybe switch to ‘I want to hug you and look after you’ instead of ‘I want to drape myself all over you.’

“Jeez, that sounds rough,” she stated, her concern evident in her face as she ran a hand through his hair. She sort of wanted to say ‘poor you’ because… well, poor him, but that sounded patronising and not very helpful. “Nieces are weird relations,” she empathised instead, “It’s like… Here’s this minor who is very, very related to you, but like… You might be in their life a lot or not at all, and also didn’t choose to bring them into the world, and they’re not really your responsibility. Unless suddenly they are,” she added, with a grimace, “Wow. That’s… a lot. Disappeared like… what?” she asked, trying to get her head around the situation and just what she should think about it. There were a lot of ways for people to disappear. Vanishing sickness. Organised crime. Disorganised crime. Accidents. Or maybe he just didn’t know. That would be the worst. Ema really hated not knowing things. "Any luck finding him?

“I don’t know,” she acknowledged, when he asked if it was weird that he worked with her mom. In some ways, it felt a little bit reassuring. Killian wasn’t some random stranger. He was a Sonora person, which guaranteed a basic level of like… at least having cleared a background check. She was pretty sure she’d have felt a lot more vulnerable up here if he was just Some Random Dude whose job did not require at least a modicum of proving yourself to be a decent human. But equally, it wasn’t really like she and her mom were looking for the same qualities in him, and nor did she remotely want to even suggest that by stating that they definitely weren’t. “It feels a bit more like you’re the one in the middle,” she stated. It was, after all, Killian’s personal and professional life that were in danger of getting weirdly mixed together. Her mom was still going to be her mom, and would approve or disapprove of her actions, and be mad at her or not but still have to love her regardless. It mattered a lot less to her that she was snuggling her mom’s employee than it potentially did for Killian to be snuggling his boss’ daughter. She suspected the boundaries of this bit were up to him. “Is it weird for you if I’m like ‘mom this’ or ‘mom that’?” she asked. “Or are you worried about it at all?”
13 Ema Skies Work it out as we go? 0 Ema Skies 0 5

Killian Row

October 12, 2020 9:54 PM

That sounds purr-fect. by Killian Row

It was very tempting to leave more important topics aside and suggest they launch into research as co-investigators on this project like . . . like right now. Like now. His heart undoubtedly revealed his interest but and his arm tightened up around her some but he pushed himself to relax again as she clarified her position on the matter. It helped a lot. He wasn't used to someone who actually would let him know and it really took the guessing out of that part of their interactions. That helped make the fun and the mystery come from a happier, healthier place than guessing at what a person's boundaries were. "Another time. For science," he said with a chuckle.

"I hope so," he said about seeing his friend again. "He and his boyfriend are still trying to get settled I think so I'm not sure what that would look like. But I hope so" He paused, wondering whether he should provide any reassurances - both because he wasn't sure whether it was more fun to let her guess, and because he wasn't sure whether it was appropriate for him to think she needed them. "He's nineteen, and I met him because I helped him get an internship," Killian said softly. "Just friends."

He smiled at Ema's verbal analysis of having nieces. "You're right, although she doesn't look much like me," he said. He got the impression that people were generally surprised to find out that they were related, but he didn't like to go throwing Bonny's race around as a fun party fact either, so he'd just have to let Ema meet her.

Was that what he wanted? To have someone to introduce to Bonny? It would be nice. Almost too nice. It would be perfect, but it would also be fragile right? He hadn't had someone to care about for more than a few months in a long time. But then, maybe Ema didn't want him to care that long. Maybe she just wanted to get to know him well enough to get past her worries, see where that led, and then be done. It was hard to say for sure.

"And suddenly she is my responsibility," he agreed. "We don't really know about Lorcan, although he's always been a mess, so there's no real saying what might have happened. No luck yet but your dad seems confident that we'll get an answer one way or another. I get the feeling he's a very practical man," he chuckled.

Cocking his head, Killian did his best to not think about things like Ema's parents or his brother, because he just wanted to think about her. She was real pretty. Since she was no longer occupying his arm, he brought his hand up to stroke her hair some more. He liked when she was laying on him, but he also liked when he could look at her. Both were nice for different reasons.

"It's not too weird," he decided, feeling like it would be dishonest to say it wasn't weird at all. "I guess it depends on how likely she'd be to turn me into a matchbox if she thought you might like me. Not saying you do," he added, trying to avoid putting words in her mouth. "But just . . . if." He smirked an almost cocky, playful grin at the idea. "That'd be pretty cool if you did," he admitted. "Selina and I get along well and there were a few things that came up with students this past year that we were able to support each other through," he said, remembering Selina crying on him and basically ripping his heart out. It was odd to think of holding a woman's mother whilst holding her, but somehow it didn't feel that odd either. "So it helps that I know we have a good relationship and that she would probably at least turn me into a handsome matchbox."

Ema felt very close and very kissable. She wasn't, of course, but she felt that way. It would have been easy to just fall in, hell, to dive in. If she had wanted that, he would have been there already. As it was, he found another question burning in his head and he bit his lip a little, trying to think of whether he wanted to ask it. At this point, what did he have to lose? It wasn't a good question, because it suddenly felt like he had a lot to lose. "What do you see?" he asked softly, brushing her hair out of her face again as if to make it that much easier to see. Maybe it was a selfish question, but he couldn't help wondering what people who didn't see either Mr. Row or a handsome stranger saw when they looked at him. Because he saw the stars in Ema's face, and he had a hard time believing there was a single speck of cosmic energy in his own. "When you look at me with those big eyes, what do you see?"
22 Killian Row That sounds purr-fect. 1450 0 5


Ema Skies

October 13, 2020 7:42 AM

You're a cheesy potato by Ema Skies

The friend had a boyfriend. Though that didn’t rule anything out. The friend was a nineteen year old intern and that very definitely did. Okay.

“Good to know,” Ema confirmed. She felt like maybe Killian was sort of making sure she knew these things, and she wasn’t sure what to read into him doing that. Had he already seen through her and realised how incurably nosey she was? Or was he trying to reassure her that every single acquaintance he brought up wasn’t someone he had gone to bed with - and if so, what did he mean that he wanted her to know that? Admittedly, given the comfort level he had with going around bedding strangers and… non-strangers, and possibly everyone, she supposed he might just be an actual adult and say ‘someone I had hooked up with’ if that was the case. Maybe ‘friend’ literally always meant friend.

Lorcan has always been a mess was an interesting answer to what sense of disappeared he was. It sounded, potentially, like some mistakes of his own making, or getting in with the wrong crowd. Or having some kind of breakdown. Essentially most of her previous guesses were on the table. Did he not want to tell her because it was something embarrassing? Some kind of mental instability that was genetic, and therefore potentially off-putting? Or socially taboo? Like, she sort of wanted to say ‘You know I won’t judge if your brother is a schizophrenic or a werewolf or both’ but she was also really trying hard to mind her own business on at least one point.

“Yeah, sounds right up dad’s street… You can tell me or not tell me, whatever you want. I won’t judge. I mean, unless I should judge him,” she added, not wanting to promise sympathy and kindness to someone who was making Killian have the look he had on his face right now. Whatever kind of trouble Lorcan was in had caused him to abandon his child, and Ema thought a rousing chorus of cursing his name might be in order, but she didn’t want to presume that it was. Or rule it out entirely.

Speaking of family fun… How likely was her mother to turn Killian into a matchbox? Ack. Ema honestly thought the answer was not very likely, but she was more concerned she’d start trying to turn him into something else. Something son-in-law shaped, that was a nice reason for Ema to move back to the states, into the nice little white picket fenced house next door to Krissalyn’s and have two kids and get a very loyal and well behaved breed of dog. And it wasn’t like Ema was totally opposed to the idea of getting married or having a family but she was pretty sure that if she did, it would look a long way off what her mother thought those things looked like. And she was pretty sure that based on the multiple people thing that would definitely be true of Killian too. In that sense, she supposed they might be well matched (if anything [more] was to happen…) but it wasn’t going to go over well with her mother, at which point the whole ‘/Killian’s employer’ thing was going to get really awkward.

It was very tempting to pick up and play one particular card Killian had dealt out there. If she liked him? It would be very, very easy right now to slither back to her former position, maybe go a little further and get her legs all the way around him as well as her arms, and ask whether she had done anything to give him the impression she was lukewarm about this situation… She was pretty sure there were half a dozen things she could do to him that would make all further awkward questions about maternal expectations very rapidly slip out of his mind… And it wasn’t fair to do that.

“Mom would probably like to see me settle down a bit,” she admitted. “Whether she’s going to think you’re a good influence or a bad influence on that… I have to admit that when she mentioned ‘fun guidance counselor’ that I was picturing someone at least twenty years older who had some really hip ways of explaining planning pension savings to the kids,” she teased. “Do you think it’s easier if we just don’t really mention it?” she asked, “I mean, it’s your call - really,” she added, not wanting to force him to feel like he was keeping a secret. It was just, as he’d said, sometimes word didn’t match well to reality. Sometimes it wasn’t easy to swap words and definitions around, or fit labels onto boxes. If they admitted to hanging out, she knew that her mother’s first question would be ‘in what capacity?’ and how did they answer that? She thought it would cut her to the bone right now to hear Killian slapping the lie on this of ‘just as friends’ because this was not how Ema behaved with friends. But what else could you call it? It needed every little detail explaining, it needed the scene painting in its completeness, and she thought that other people still wouldn’t understand even if they went to all that trouble. Though she wasn’t sure she wanted to fade completely from the story of his summer either. Maybe she could just suggest that they stay here forever? Then it wouldn’t be a problem...

And then Killian was asking her to divine the present, to read it from the lines around his eyes and the creases in his forehead. She traced them all with her finger tips, as she considered her answer.

“You,” she said softly, “Or at least, I think I’m beginning to.” The person who had laughed so casually with her at the barbecue seemed like a cardboard cut out compared the very real and warm human with her now. “I see someone who seems to spend a lot of his time caring for other people. His niece. This intern. I’m still looking for signs that he gets looked after in return, or looks after himself,” she added, scrutinising his expression in response to the gentle accusation. She supposed the people she’d listed weren’t the kinds who were expected to return the favour too much. She tried to push the thought that he’d said he and her mother had been each other’s confidantes to the back of her brain. “And, in case there was any doubt, I see someone who I think is rather cute, and is proving themselves to be fairly special, and who I am starting to like very much.”

She toyed with asking the question in return, but it felt like they’d spent a long time on her already. And hadn’t she just accused the whole world of not taking enough care of the person in her arms?

“What do you see - looking at yourself, I mean,” she clarified.
13 Ema Skies You're a cheesy potato 0 Ema Skies 0 5

Killian Row

October 13, 2020 12:07 PM

Ready to be eaten up. by Killian Row

"You should definitely judge him," Killian said, his voice curling with a little more anger than he meant to let out. "He's picked alcohol over family as long as I've known him, and from what I can tell with Bonny, he always had money for sex workers but not for her. I don't blame the sex workers," he added to be clear. "They're making a living same as anyone else. I blame my brother." His stomach felt like it was rolling and he took a breath. "So it's good to be here and get to breathe," he said a little more softly as he relaxed some. "I try not to be angry, because it doesn't change anything for him. He doesn't care if I'm angry. Which means, at the end of the day, I'm just hurting myself and the people close to me if I'm angry."

He laughed when she admitted what she'd imagined he'd be like. "Hey, I have a great spiel about pension plans," he said playfully. There were some things that weren't good to be playful about though, and he considered for a moment. "Mention 'it'? I guess it depends on what 'it' is. I don't think I'm going to get to work and be asked too much about my summer and certainly not in any detail that would make me think I should tell her about this exact moment. It depends on what I'm not mentioning," he said quietly. The last thing he wanted to do was make Ema think he was trying to put any pressure on her one way or another. He also wasn't sure if he wanted to just say that he'd hung out with some friends for the summer. At the same time, saying he'd gotten to know a nice girl over the summer wasn't a good idea if there was any chance that Selina would ever find out who it was, and he found out that he sort of hoped there would be a need for her to find out.

He resisted the urge to kiss her hand again as she touched his face. "Someone made me potatoes this summer," he said softly. "I'm being looked after." His expression changed rather against his will when she Sid he was cute though. "You think so?" he asked, wrapping his arms as much around her waist as he could manage given their angles. He sort of wanted to pull her on top of him but it wouldn't just be his heartbeat she'd be feeling then and he wasn't sure how she'd feel about that.

"I see-- oh me?" he paused, surprised when she turned the question back on him about himself. He pouted. "Mostly a stud," he said. "No, I see . . . I'm not sure. I don't look that often. I see someone who tries to make up for a lot of things. Not always because I did something bad. But I see a lot of bad, and I want to make the world a little better than that. I don't know how successful I am though," he admitted.

"You're more fun though," he said, happy to change the subject. His focus was rapidly shifting towards Ema as a whole - she was very present in a way that he never seemed to himself and he wanted to find out what every square inch of her felt like, in whatever capacity she would enjoy that. "Because I also think you're cute," he said, moving one hand to boop the end of her nose. "And special," he continued, putting his arm back around her. "And for what it's worth, I like you too."
22 Killian Row Ready to be eaten up. 1450 0 5


Ema Skies

October 14, 2020 5:11 AM

Om nom nom by Ema Skies

Ema let out a rather creative combination of different dieities fused with swear words at the description of Lorcan's behaviour. Okay, yes alcoholism was one of those things that her fluffy liberal heart was meant to understand was an illness and that couldn't be helped and so on... But people who were not in control of their behaviour and their consumptions just pushed her buttons in all the wrong ways. Also, she thought there was plenty of room for the abstract idea of tackling society's root causes, and providing safe non-judgemental support options, whilst simulataneously being very mad at this particular individual for the look on Killian's face right now, and very definitely not wanting to have to navigate any situations which involved him.

"Okay, judging as requested," she noted, arranging her features into a frown. "Good way of looking at it but sometimes hard to do," she acknowledged Killian's feelings on the subject. She let her own face soften, so that he knew his anger was not affecting her, and searched for something else to say that wasn't thoroughly inadequate. She drew a blank though, so stated that it sounded like Lorcan sucked, but again with a few very choice words for emphasis. But like Killian had said, anger didn't do any good. At least not until she could channel it into throwing a few dishes at Lorcan's thick skull.

"I think you're precious and that you deserve life to be kinder to you," she tried instead, because making sure Killian knew that was within her control.

"You will have to give it to me sometime," she admitted when he said he had a really good spiel on pension plans. The rest of the conversation was a little heavier though. What was 'this?' That seemed to be the question Killian was putting on the table, Ema was surprised. Was he, the king of casual, asking for a label or a definition? Sure, he had done the whole 'different things from different people' speech but she wasn't sure she had expected him to be such a chameleon. There was a difference between being okay with snuggly pancake fun for now, and asking serious questions because the other person seemed serious. Did he want to label this, or did he just want to work out what she wanted? What did she want?

"We've got some time to figure that out," she answered. They could see how things were progressing by the time he left. Something which she rather hoped was a matter of days rather than hours. "You're staying over, yeah?" she confirmed, as casually as she could.

He seemed surprised that she found him cute, which was sort of mystifying. Didn't people who went out and confidently attracted other people assume they were good to look at? Or was he just surprised to hear her say it? Certainly, as he opened up, it seemed like he worried about how well he was doing - not necessarily because he was doing badly but because he cared so much about being good.

"It sounds to me like you're doing okay," she assured him. Maybe that was damning him with faint praise but she thought it would ring hollow to say she was sure he was doing an amazing job at absolutely everything when, as established, she barely knew him. That though was something she could play to her advantage here. "This is only my second time talking to you, and I'm already aware of two people whose lives you're going above and beyond to make better. I don't know what your relationship with your niece is like, but if you only just met her and she's had a fairly traumatic upbringing, it probably isn't perfect or easy. And you still want to be there. And I don't know that many people who stayed in touch with the guidance counselor after they grauated, so if you regard your ex intern - extern? - as a friend, that says a lot too."

And then he was turning it back on her, and Ema had to admit she was a little bit pleased because it was nice to get compliments without having to fish for them, and it was very nice to be cuddled and nose booped. And liked. She was torn between asking all the questions (in what way was she special and cute and liked, and what did it meeeean??) and just sort of staring at him with stars in her eyes, but she wasn't sure how long she could do that. He was staring at her, and seeing someone worth liking, and she gave a happy little squeak and ducked her head so she didn't have to keep looking at him looking at her because she wasn't sure whether her eventual cracking would be in the form of a really terrible joke or actually just kissing him, and both of them were sort of bad ideas.

She settled back on his chest, so that she could collect this moment as a sample in her study, suspecting that, strictly speaking, she should let his heartrate return to baseline before she tried anything else.
13 Ema Skies Om nom nom 0 Ema Skies 0 5