voice (UN ????) | open to anon/misfire replies

[priorly]

What's that poem about how the world ends? Fire, or ice.

Funny, really, we've been at the sharp end of both in recent weeks and here we all are, still muddling along, impossible to destroy. Like cockroaches, or Twinkies. Well. Most of us, anyway.

But it seems to me that ice is more a paralytic than an ending. Perhaps a precursor to slow cessation. A numbing, which - left long enough - allows one not to even notice as all the more vital components gradually freeze. Stasis, an ending without closure. They're the worst kind, I think.

But don't mind maudlin old me. I haven't been sleeping well.

At any rate. If you knew Byerly or Dorian -

Well, lucky you. They're gone now. Stasis. I thought some people might like to know and it turns out to be torture to have to say it over and over.

And it's colder here than I anticipated.

That's all.

Comments

[impavid]

Maybe I'm just longing for your big tip.

[priorly]

I bet you say that to all the boys.

[impavid]

Not all the boys have such big tips.

[priorly]

How fascinating that you'd know.

[impavid]

I try to stay interesting. Good to know it's working out.

[priorly]

You're trying to cheer me up.

[impavid]

Is that against the rules? I'm a little fuzzy on the rules, here

[priorly]

It's not. Although it feels like cheating either way.

[impavid]

So what're you going to do about it, officer?

[priorly]

You know, I left my badge on the station, so I guess it's going to have to be a citizen's arrest.

[impavid]

Well it's a good thing I'm coming over then, makes this whole arrest thing easier. You can read me my rights over drinks. Five minutes good?

[priorly]

I um.

Ten? Or - fifteen. I need time to slip into something less comfortable.

[impavid]

Something lacy?

[priorly]

The opposite. [He said less comfortable, after all.]

I've been applying a silky sartorial balm to my wounds but if I'm expecting company I'll have to find something less...

Well, I don't know. I'll see if Richie owns some plaid.

[impavid]

I've been told lacy things can be uncomfortable!

[ Listen, can't blame a guy for trying. ]

Anyway, unless you're missing limbs or have large quantities of your insides on the floor I've seen worse, so don't worry about how you're dressed. Though if you're just in need of plaid shirts in general I own a fine selection.

[ Two. He has two here. ]

[priorly]

Never believe the hearsay on anything you haven't tried for yourself.

But... I'm not sure.[John won't be uncomfortable, himself. People say they won't freak out, but –] I can do butch for you, baby. Or I can do pants, at least.

[impavid]

You've met Ianto and you think I'm into butch?

[priorly]

It's not about what you're into.

Although he's hardly... well, he doesn't exactly scream... never mind, just knock when you get here.

[impavid]

He owns fuchsia pink shirts, but I'll knock.

[priorly]

So do bankers, John. [The world is wide, with room for many beautiful variants in it, and it is a long way from a pink button down shirt to Prior Walter. Ianto may not be butch, but neither is he close to femme.

And Prior. Well, he's a lot of things, it depends on the day. At any rate, he's taken slacks and a shirt out of the closet and is debating them before five minutes is up.]

[impavid]

[ In the time since his first message John has:

i) informed Ianto that he makes lovely decor
ii) Spent a solid two minutes in between sending text messages wondering if he should bring something to cheer Prior up. He doesn't have his guitar, what could he bring instead? Literally no idea
iii) Given up and bought some food in case Prior is drinking without eating enough and imminently about to make himself vomit, but also brought something to drink
iv) Contemplated his life choices in general, and found that he still seems to lean toward poor ones.

He sets down enough things to free up his hands and knocks. John is bundled up against the cold still. It's not especially sexy unless you're really into layering. ]

Just me!

[ In case Prior was concerned there was a different tall, handsome man at his door. ]

[priorly]

[To be fair, he knows a few.

And the pants are still laid out on the bed when Prior comes to the door, takes a breath and opens it - almost wide enough to catch a glimpse of one brown eye and perhaps a hint of unruly bangs - before closing it again immediately.]

Changed my mind, come back later.

[Prior walks away from the door, though it isn't locked.]

[impavid]

[ John rolls his eyes and sticks a foot out to catch the door before it closes -- begins gathering up his things. ]

I'm giving you a bad review just for that. Terrible hospitality. Anyway, there's a food in these bags to slow down any waves of regret caused by drinking but if I'm too late on that front I'll just eat it myself.

[ Sometimes you can't quite suppress your Team Mom vibes. He toes open the door again, inching his way in and tries to read the room for any red flags. ]

[priorly]

[Not expecting to be followed, Prior's subsequent yelp and attempt to step back behind the closet door (irony overlooked for now) only sees him stumbling into it, with a rattle of hangers and the soft swish of clothes hitting the wooden base board.

No red flags, just a pale gold slip. Silk, or some good imitation of it, a scrap of fabric capable of making him look both frailer (he's too thin and it's exposed, like this, the bruises that mark him as diseased are visible above the neckline) and less fragile at once (it's designed for a woman, clearly, his limbs are too long and still too muscled to let him look as delicate as he might wish). He's been dressing for comfort, and in emotional emergencies retreating into even the faintest vestiges of drag is some form of moral support.

Anyway, now he's got Richie's jeans draped round his neck like a scarf and things are even worse.]

Wonderful, why don't you take it down the hall and eat in the communal quarters.

[Because Prior lives in the closet now. Shoo.]

[impavid]

Well for one thing, I just got here.

[ Anyway, if you think John can resist a good closet joke -- ]

I know you said you'd try butch but no need to climb back in the closet on my account.

[ He's just going to bring the stuff further in anyway. ]