l☣cus (
classification) wrote in
starlogs2017-03-09 05:36 pm
( OPEN )
WHO: locus + YOU ; also assorted mine + others
WHERE: bajiKHAAAAAANN
WHEN: thru the event
WHAT: a bunch of rando things
WARNINGS: nothing off the top of my head, will edit if necessary
( SUPERBIA )
[ At first, he thinks this whole thing is stupid. Locus tells himself to just stay on the ship and keep to his own business. There's no reason to go down there at all. Besides, he's been to pleasure type planets before and has absolutely no interest.
And then, he reads the information.
Because he's Locus and because he's paranoid, he makes a rather odd picture. For the better part of the morning, there is a rather tall ( as in 6'5" ) man lurking around the district in full armor. Perhaps it's a little ridiculous, but Locus doesn't trust anyone—let alone people here in some alleged anomaly fleet. It's all a load of bullshit as far as he's concerned.
However, toward late afternoon, the armor will be mysteriously gone and Locus will be wandering the district. He seems like a rather non-descript sort of fellow—just loitering around from here to there. Because now he can wander and blend in with the crowd as he's gotten his hands on some micro-tech to hide the scar on his face.
Which is why he feels little shame in ducking into what looks to be a promising day spa with little foot traffic at this time of day. Or even that fancy looking barber shop. Because, hey, sometimes a mercenary who's just been through hell and back deserves a little pampering. And, Locus, being one who never does this, believes that it might be time. ]
( LUXURIA )
[ This is a ridiculous place to be, Locus knows that. And yet he finds himself touring the district for some unknown reason. It's uncomfortable and he sees little point to the way people are behaving, but he's not judging.
Much.
Well, all right. He's not openly saying anything, but the judgment is all too clear by the slightly pinched look on his face.
Eventually, he comes to the beach and that gives him pause. He can see people milling about and enjoying themselves in the water, on the sand, in the bars. He can also see everything. Quite literally. They're all naked and seem to have no issue at all with that or anyone else. It's... odd? Don't these people have any shame????
Yet only minutes later, Locus finds himself on that beach and—well, he's not quite enjoying himself, but it's a close approximation of that as he lounges on a chair near the water or wanders along the bars and shops that welcome nudie patrons. Except, he does have the decency to cover up with a modest towel during that time. He's giving it his best shot to not feel awkward skulking around nearly naked in various places. At one point he does stop at a certain bar that is mostly open facing the sea and it's quiet with no blaring music with a heavy bass and people mostly are leaving each other alone.
Which means that, yes, that seat next to him is open! ]
( AVARITIA )
[ If there's one thing that Locus lowkey appreciates and doesn't really talk about is fine attire. Usually he prefers the protection of his armor, but when doing jobs that don't require it, he's in a suit nine out of ten times. He just likes them. ( Maybe because at least one part of him should be put together well... )
So, he procures more than several in the luxury shops here. Grabs a few accessories to go along with because why not make the whole ensemble match well? Once night hits, he does treat himself to nice dinners tucked away in a back corner of a restaurant then hits the casinos. He doesn't need the money ( because it's not really important to him ), but he knows that it can't hurt to have extra laying around when he needs to get information.
And considering he's at a loss as to what's really going on here? Money can only talk. So, hey, wanna blow on those dice for good luck?? ]
WHERE: bajiKHAAAAAANN
WHEN: thru the event
WHAT: a bunch of rando things
WARNINGS: nothing off the top of my head, will edit if necessary
( SUPERBIA )
And then, he reads the information.
Because he's Locus and because he's paranoid, he makes a rather odd picture. For the better part of the morning, there is a rather tall ( as in 6'5" ) man lurking around the district in full armor. Perhaps it's a little ridiculous, but Locus doesn't trust anyone—let alone people here in some alleged anomaly fleet. It's all a load of bullshit as far as he's concerned.
However, toward late afternoon, the armor will be mysteriously gone and Locus will be wandering the district. He seems like a rather non-descript sort of fellow—just loitering around from here to there. Because now he can wander and blend in with the crowd as he's gotten his hands on some micro-tech to hide the scar on his face.
Which is why he feels little shame in ducking into what looks to be a promising day spa with little foot traffic at this time of day. Or even that fancy looking barber shop. Because, hey, sometimes a mercenary who's just been through hell and back deserves a little pampering. And, Locus, being one who never does this, believes that it might be time. ]
( LUXURIA )
Much.
Well, all right. He's not openly saying anything, but the judgment is all too clear by the slightly pinched look on his face.
Eventually, he comes to the beach and that gives him pause. He can see people milling about and enjoying themselves in the water, on the sand, in the bars. He can also see everything. Quite literally. They're all naked and seem to have no issue at all with that or anyone else. It's... odd? Don't these people have any shame????
Yet only minutes later, Locus finds himself on that beach and—well, he's not quite enjoying himself, but it's a close approximation of that as he lounges on a chair near the water or wanders along the bars and shops that welcome nudie patrons. Except, he does have the decency to cover up with a modest towel during that time. He's giving it his best shot to not feel awkward skulking around nearly naked in various places. At one point he does stop at a certain bar that is mostly open facing the sea and it's quiet with no blaring music with a heavy bass and people mostly are leaving each other alone.
Which means that, yes, that seat next to him is open! ]
( AVARITIA )
So, he procures more than several in the luxury shops here. Grabs a few accessories to go along with because why not make the whole ensemble match well? Once night hits, he does treat himself to nice dinners tucked away in a back corner of a restaurant then hits the casinos. He doesn't need the money ( because it's not really important to him ), but he knows that it can't hurt to have extra laying around when he needs to get information.
And considering he's at a loss as to what's really going on here? Money can only talk. So, hey, wanna blow on those dice for good luck?? ]

no subject
Which might turn out to be a good thing, because what he does next will get him brutally, messily murdered if the wrong, rat-faced party happens to find out about it. ]
Guess that does make it easier, doesn't it?
[ It's almost—almost but not quite—an accident, the way Wash's free hand drops to his side and settles on the guy's knee. It's a little less of one when he slides it up along his thigh until the tips of his fingers are just slipping beneath that thing he's wearing. He should be thinking of other things, but between the rapidly thickening fog of lust blanketing his brain and the weird tingling sensation the drink's sparked in his stomach, thinking isn't really something Wash is doing anymore. ]
You want to take care of some of them?
no subject
He's not and never has been, but Felix refuses to see it that way.
And, okay, right now Locus is thinking less with his head and more with his dick than he has in years. Washington is attractive enough, that much is obvious. But, Locus knows that thinking more along the lines of satisfaction have no real boundaries. Washington could be anyone and Locus would feel the same.
What he should do is remove Washington's hand from his leg, preferably by stabbing it with a fork. What he does instead is get out of the seat and gestures for Washington to follow. Though, not for the intention likely assumed. What's going to happen requires a measure of privacy because it could get loud or messy or both. ]
Follow me.
no subject
And he shouldn't be doing that. It's cheating. He isn't a cheater. He isn't unfaithful! The rational part of his brain tries so hard to make that point hit home. But he's angry. He can be terribly petty when he's angry. And the part of him that's thinking with his dick shoots back at this argument that maybe there's a limit with someone who's tried to kill him numerous times and doesn't seem to fucking appreciate him.
Later, he'll be ashamed of himself for that too. ]
Sure. [ It isn't necessary to say it, given that he's following him, but he does it anyway. ] Lead the way.
[ He'll just be appreciating the view. ]
no subject
He finds one unoccupied and dips under the archway with the thick columns dusted in gold and vines with little pink flowers circling all the way up. Only slightly has his heartrate elevated because he knows what he's going to do and hates having to reveal himself. But, this has gone too far and if he allows it to go further, they're both going to regret what comes after. Better to end this and stop anything from happening later.
Once Washington is enclosed in the area too, he moves quick and whirls on him in a bid to pin him against the wall yet not really touching. One hand is firmly planted against the wall behind him, the other he would aim to rest against Washington's shoulder. As much as he hates himself for it, he does look at Washington's mouth first before dragging his gaze back up. His tone is a low, warm murmur, ]
You let your guard down too easily.
no subject
Wash hits the wall before he's quite aware that he's being redirected toward it. Immediately, adrenaline shoots through him, the fight response—there's no fight or flight, the latter has been trained out of him for years—kicking in and preparing him for battle. But he doesn't attack yet or seek to break the guy's hold on him. He just looks at him, gaze sharper now with the promise of violence hanging over them. There's no fear in his expression. No concern for the possible threat to his safety. ]
You think I'm not capable of defending myself just because I'm attracted to you?
[ Slowly, Wash smiles. It's a sharp, predatory grin, all confidence and challenge. Because he's a goddamn Freelancer and even before the Project, he's never been afraid of a fight.
He leans forward, not in an attempt to dislodge the hand on his shoulder but simply to get into the guy's space. To breathe his air. To meet the challenge with one of his own. His voice drops into a low, almost velvety purr, but there's no seduction in it. No awkward overtures. ]
If you're looking for a fight, you're in for a surprise.