Life is hard, that's why no one survives (half-closed)

[dodgeouttahell]

WHO: Zagreus et al.
WHERE: wherever, whenever
WHEN: Dec and perhaps January
WHAT: Catchall and closed starters for people. Pls find my plotting comment here or throw me a wildcard if any of the prompts work.
WARNINGS: TBU

Comments

[unalign]

[ tbf, creepy wouldn't have been the first word to come into her mind if zagreus said his thoughts out loud. for one, he's never really given her that impression since meeting him the first time; for another, it seems like a genuine compliment.

lumine doesn't miss the way aneth looks at him, an expectant expression on the other woman's face, stifling a laugh when he tries to explain himself. not surprising, artists can be quite sensitive when it comes to their artwork. she supposes she shouldn't have asked, after all.

she finally relaxes when aneth waves them both off, feeling grateful that she can feel something again. ]

Oh, I can get water for myself, don't worry ... [ she says this as she starts getting off the platform, possibly giving zagreus a view of herself—only to return to her seat in a panic. ] ... Sorry about that.

[dodgeouttahell]

[While he shakes his head with a subtle tinge on his cheeks, it all stems from the awkwardness of the situation and not so much about Lumine's state of undress and angle malfunction. He's still making sure he's looking away, through a line of sight that would end in her face unless she decided to do a flip or something of the sort. Because of that, Zagreus' lip twitches, but not in the way one would maybe expect from a situation like this. He's slightly more endeared at the fact that Lumine has taken the initiative.] You're used to getting things done alone, aren't you?

Catch. [He grabs a blanket, bundles it neatly in a tight fold, and then lobs it generously towards Lumine, so she'll catch it. He clears his throat, trying not to remember a lady that was exactly the same and whom he misses.] Do get comfortable, and I'll get you that water, yes?

[Aneth points absently at a pitcher on the counter near a tap. He brings Lumine the pitcher and a glass, though pouring some water in the artist's cup on the way, too. The painter thanks him and then decides to leave. 'Catching some air, the paint fumes are taking a toll on me.'] Here you go. Are you done for today, then?