[open] channeling angels in a new age, now.

[priorly]

Who: Prior Walter (priorly) & you??
What: Catch all logs for October!
When: October!
Where: various
Warning(s): language, likely mention of terminal illness (AIDS). Adult themes?
Notes: Please PM me if you'd like a starter, or feel free to wildcard me anytime.

Comments

[vorrutyer]

[ With a dry smile: ]

Are you cruel?

[priorly]

Only when asked nicely.

[Almost too quickly, contravening the alert bells that have started to ring in his head. And maybe the way he looks at Byerly is too dark, black flooding brown, but. But. He does have things he keeps hidden. For his own protection.

It only takes a little effort to turn his smile, and tone, more trivial.]

I don't think it would speak well for me if shackles were a requirement.

[So Byerly's hands slip free.]

[vorrutyer]

[ Byerly draws his hands down, but ghosts a little touch over Prior's neck. ]

Less a requirement than a bonus, it seems to me. Sometimes a fellow wants to be imprisoned and kept, doesn't he?

[ He settles back with a smile that's quite sultry. But teasing, at the end of the day. No more than teasing. ]

I hope you are cruel, beloved. It'd set my heart at ease to know it.

[priorly]

Imprisoned! Nothing quite so dark. I'm sure there are people who spend themselves just thinking about it, of course. But for myself I can't imagine anything more dispiriting than being a jailer. All that company, none of it by choice.

[He knocks lightly on Byerly's chest before settling back himself.]

But if it soothes your little tin lump, consider me a beast.

[vorrutyer]

Ah, but is that the truth?

[ He sighs mournfully. ]

If there is something I detest in myself, it's my preference for the truth over convenient lies. Dreadful quality, isn't it?

[priorly]

[Something he detests. Somehow Prior's eyes remain unrolled; he spares Byerly a sidelong look.]

We all have beastly qualities, I'm sure. I try to keep mine under wraps. [The ones he thinks of most have a literal, fairytale bent. Real horror, written through his skin.] That must make your occupation a chore.

[vorrutyer]

Oh, on the contrary. It makes my occupation perfectly delicious. After all, I'm paid to ferret out what is the truth - or, at the very least, bundle up all the lies so that the clever fellows at HQ can winnow out the good from the bad.

[ By smiles at Prior, perfectly unapologetic for his constant drama. Then, rather abruptly: ]

What do you like best about yourself, dearest?

[priorly]

[As he shouldn't be, it's a perfect preoccupation. Bond movies be damned, life is by far the more interesting thing.

Though he is left blinking by the subject change.]

That's a curious question. Are we writing adverts for the personals column? Too much hair, nice smile, W L T M tall, dark and liquor scented for cosy nights under the sheets?

[vorrutyer]

I just want to hear it.

[ He sighs and settles back a bit. ]

I find so very much that's praiseworthy about you, but I don't know if I'm commenting on qualities you're indifferent to.

[priorly]

Hm. [No, it remains a curious thing.] And if I reel off a list of my best qualities and you wave your hand and sniff none of those?

[vorrutyer]

Then that would prove I was a cruel man, no? Which is worth knowing in and of itself.

[priorly]

Oh god do I have to fight you over who's best and worst? I quite enjoy liking you, so far, you could simply let me take the risk.

[Overly dramatic outbursts aside-]

Are you trying to bolster my spirits? I don't dislike myself - that may be the rarest quality I have.

[vorrutyer]

[ Like this is the first time it's occurred to him - ]

Hm - would talking about this bolster your spirits?

[priorly]

They are perfectly bolstered, my spirits. Nothing but ghosts on posts. [A huff.] Tell me anyway.

[vorrutyer]

[ Innocently: ]

Tell you what - What I like best about you?

[priorly]

Was it my unending graciousness in the face of unreasonable frustration? [Sweetly]

[vorrutyer]

Oh, no. You're quite ungracious, actually.

[priorly]

[A small squeak of affront]

After I brought you a fruit basket.

[vorrutyer]

And then got sugar for yourself alone.

[priorly]

[You got some sugar you lil shit.] Is it my fault you're a poor host?

[vorrutyer]

He says, wrapped in my clothes, face fresh with my moisturizer, cradled in my bed.

[priorly]

Well. Well.

[One arm flings our into an expansive gesture of... nothing, really. He curls his fingers back in. Examines his nails. It's a deliberate routine - a smile lurks under the affected pout.

Graciously ]

For that I thank you.

[vorrutyer]

Oh, now I hear a thanks. At long last.

[priorly]

True altruists never require one. Are you implying I'm somehow demanding?

[vorrutyer]

Ah, there's the error - I'm not an altruist. And yes, you are.