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uncalendula) wrote2014-12-10 01:17 am
uncalendula) wrote2014-12-10 01:17 am
Entry tags:
{rping} I'll tell you why
WHO Ned (wordvomit) & Michael (what_he_needs)
WHERE Outskirts of Vega
CANON A Thrilling Dominion AU
SCENARIO
In the aftermath of what could arguably be considered a supernatural disaster, a friendly face might be the only balm one needs to soothe.
--------------------------------------------
[Ned Edwards (and yes, he realizes the irony of being named Edward Edwards) escaped work early this afternoon, having put in his morning hours and produced enough baked goods to satisfy the small army living in the Riesen household. Sometimes he can almost remember life before this - flickers here and there, his mother dying and his father leaving him - before the caste system relegated him to a lower rung where he had to claw his way into localized fame before the higher-ups came to satisfy their sweet-tooth.
He certainly can't complain about the ovens, state-of-the-art industrial grade and more baking pans than you could shake a stick at. Ned remained quiet, and careful, and never kicked up a fuss, which is probably why he's managed to maintain his position for so long.
They offered him a space in the household, but the rooms felt too cavernous. Too...nouveau riche.
Too lonely.
On the outer ring of the city there are fair apartments, decent housing for those in the middling range who don't mind the clamor of the lower class outside one's window. With a bag stuffed full of day-old goods from the kitchen that would, doubtless, be thrown away otherwise, Ned doles out bits and pieces until there is little left and he has to wonder how long some of these people's ration cards will last them.]
You're welcome,
[he nods to a little girl with a weary smile, an early riser and an early setter by default, feeling the exhaustion creep in again. From the mumble of the crowd he can tell something's happened closer to the main family buildings, but susurrous rumors and hearsay happen frequently enough around here for him not to consider it as genuine Vega "news."
After all, none of the monitors are flickering with any updates.]
wordvomit) & Michael (what_he_needs)WHERE Outskirts of Vega
CANON A Thrilling Dominion AU
SCENARIO
In the aftermath of what could arguably be considered a supernatural disaster, a friendly face might be the only balm one needs to soothe.
[Ned Edwards (and yes, he realizes the irony of being named Edward Edwards) escaped work early this afternoon, having put in his morning hours and produced enough baked goods to satisfy the small army living in the Riesen household. Sometimes he can almost remember life before this - flickers here and there, his mother dying and his father leaving him - before the caste system relegated him to a lower rung where he had to claw his way into localized fame before the higher-ups came to satisfy their sweet-tooth.
He certainly can't complain about the ovens, state-of-the-art industrial grade and more baking pans than you could shake a stick at. Ned remained quiet, and careful, and never kicked up a fuss, which is probably why he's managed to maintain his position for so long.
They offered him a space in the household, but the rooms felt too cavernous. Too...nouveau riche.
Too lonely.
On the outer ring of the city there are fair apartments, decent housing for those in the middling range who don't mind the clamor of the lower class outside one's window. With a bag stuffed full of day-old goods from the kitchen that would, doubtless, be thrown away otherwise, Ned doles out bits and pieces until there is little left and he has to wonder how long some of these people's ration cards will last them.]
You're welcome,
[he nods to a little girl with a weary smile, an early riser and an early setter by default, feeling the exhaustion creep in again. From the mumble of the crowd he can tell something's happened closer to the main family buildings, but susurrous rumors and hearsay happen frequently enough around here for him not to consider it as genuine Vega "news."
After all, none of the monitors are flickering with any updates.]
no subject
He'd been trying to be careful, to go as slow as he could, no matter how difficult that was. But, Ned wasn't delicate and easily broken, and Michael shouldn't treat him as if he were.]
Here.
[Michael would have removed his own belt, and the rest of his clothing, and Ned's, but he kind of likes the way the pie maker's fingers feel at the band of his pants. Working them open, skin just barely brushing over skin as he moves.
So, he just leans back, angling his hips just enough to give Ned more room.]
no subject
[he manages breathlessly, hardly intimidated on a physical level outside of a self-consciousness about how soft he must seem by comparison. Ned's emotional brokenness is a subject for another day, a time when someone isn't painting such an enticing picture on his shabby couch in his shabby apartment. This contact he wants, starved for it on most other occasions and willing to give up a little of himself just to feel whole.
His fingers trip over the belt buckle and he pulls the long strip of leather free, practically throwing it over his shoulder as soon as he's removed it.]
I'm, uh- [Eyes half-lidded, rumpled and unkempt for a respectable baker, Ned looks up at the archangel apologetically.] -it's been a while, so if I'm-
[-not that good, he doesn't finish, deciding to bite the bullet before palming the bulge in Michael's trousers over the fabric.]