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dishonests) wrote2015-05-25 01:28 pm
dishonests) wrote2015-05-25 01:28 pm
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☏ call. ≔ text. 💻 video. ✘ action.
☏ call. ≔ text. 💻 video. ✘ action.
☏ call. ≔ text. 💻 video. ✘ action.
☏ call. ≔ text. 💻 video. ✘ action.
✘ @ cupid's
but that's not the club cassidy finds himself at tonight. the candy bar departs from pandemonium's high ceilings and enchanted atmosphere; everything seems somehow closer together and more personable. in that way, it reminds him a little more of the taverns at home. in every other way, it's just as strange as every other transplant from the future.
the one constant is always the bar, and that's where he heads once he's through the door, dressed casually in a v-neck shirt and jeans. he's even forgone most of his rings, leaving paler bands where they used to be. the one that remains, he twists around his finger as he leans over the bar. there's a woman standing beside him, facing away, who looks comely enough from the back ( and who's hair color bears a striking resemblance to someone else he knows ). he leans in her direction and says, above the din of the music, ] Evening to you. [ and then, something he's learned since being in eudio, ] Come here often?
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Among the jostling crowd, Cassidy doesn't particularly look out of place. Casual is acceptable, though the others wearing similar outfits somehow make them look like they took two hours to choose and style.
His rings wouldn't have been at all out of place.
There is some enchantment about the place - from the glitterball that casts everything in sparkling, colour-shifting shimmers to the general buzz of the place. Even if the staff here happen to be a different kind of fairy.
The girl at the bar is a rare bird in the aviary, her hair a bright beacon in dim light, curling to just above her shoulders and tumbling down round her face as she bends her head over the umbrella of a purple cocktail which - if Cassidy had stepped close a second sooner - he'd have heard her call so gay and suggesting a rename from Purple Rain to the Queen Confirmation.
She's facing away from him, so he won't see her startle between spitting and swallowing at the sound of his voice, though he might catch her (surprisingly graceful) shoulders lift sharply before swallow is the option taken.
The dress she's wearing is simple in comparison with the kind usually on show here. Black ribboned with gold, wrapped in just low enough on the thigh to avoid obscenities so long as she steers clear of bar stools. Cassidy gets a better look at the dress than her face as she turns, head dipped coyly, face shadowed. Voice low, but soft (accent flattened out to something generic.)]
Haven't you seen me before?
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without getting a good look at her face, though, it's impossible to place her in the shimmering, shifting light. so, even though he's on uneven ground, he doesn't dial back the flirtation. it's entirely possible he just doesn't know how. ]
I'd not think myself like to forget a rare damsel such as yourself. [ one eyebrow rises above the other. the corner of his lips curls in a grin. ] You do strike me as familiar.
[ he reaches out to pull back the curtain of her hair, catching a strand around his fingers. it even feels familiar. ]
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He laughs, and he looks up and-
Fuck. It's some time since he's looked at Cassidy the way he did when he was first stormwashed up on Eudio's shores. Some time, too, since Cassidy looked at Freddie like a challenge to be overcome.
And that is, after all, the identity that Freddie fits best. Something to be reached for and never quite possessed, not unless he can be tricked into letting himself get stolen somehow. Of all people, a pirate should know something about that. Since Cassidy's been back, Freddie's let them fall into companionship - a kind of close-distance where Freddie can sleep with his head on Cassidy's chest and not be asked for his thoughts.
Companionship is all very well, if you're looking for calm waters. But Freddie's always thrived best in a tempest.
He goes to catch Cassidy's wrist, a quick snare.]
That would be very familiar, if I wasn't. [The voice is all Freddie and, in proper light, the angles of his face are too. Take them at one slant and he's a boy again. A tilt the other way and his cheekbones mark out a framework as delicate as a girl. It's not new as such, just more striking in this context.
He can pull off the same sharp grin with either of his faces.]
Jesus, do you even know where you've walked into? You're going to have to try so much harder if you want to be 'familiar' tonight.
[Case in point: Freddie's spoken and already gone, turning to slip, laughing, into the dancing crowds. Cassidy's left at the bar - the tender (a girl - once you look twice at her, past the designer stubble and hair curled into a 50's quiff) leaning over to ask if she can get him anything.]
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but even when he's met people with nearly identical faces, the personalities are almost never the same. and freddie's personality is unmistakable. ]
Freddie-
[ but he's talking to his back, at that point. rather than follow him right away, cassidy stares after him, a small, incredulous smile at the corner of his lips, and then asks the bartender for two shots of rum. he downs both of them, one after the other. he doesn't know what he's walked into, but it's not the first time he's let the wind lead him, and it usually turns out all right in the end. the night is already turning out to be more interesting than he could've anticipated when he embarked on this little adventure.
with the rum warming his veins, he leaves the bar and braves the writhing mass of bodies on the dance floor, scanning the crowd for a flash of gold. this particular game is familiar, too. sometimes he wonders if he'll ever stop chasing freddie.
as a career treasure hunter, it doesn't take him long to track down his prize. he's misled a couple times along the way, once by an actual woman with blonde hair ( he lingers with her a moment longer before melting back into the crowd ), but he finally traps the right wrist, spins the right person to face him.
he grins, shark-like, as someone behind him jostles him closer. he bends his head towards freddie's ear as he says, ] You make a fine woman, Freddie Baxter.
[ a strong, callused hand grabs freddie's ass. that, at least, feels very much the same. ]
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[The tug at Freddie's wrist catches him out of a spot between two other dancers. They hold it for him until he looks round, shaking his head slightly, then wind around each other, instead. There's no regret - he's had at least one of them at least once, anyway, though he's been easing off slightly on his policy of no repeats.
At least, in certain cases.
He lifts his arms as Cassidy leans in, lets his wrists link together around the pirate's neck so he has to stay close, or straighten up and pull Freddie against him. Either option works. The heels he has on go some way to matching their heights, for once, but not quite.]
Welcome to the day job, Captain. Some of us have them.
[Some people's day jobs run between 11pm and the smallest hours of the morning, where sexual harassment isn't so much a policy as an obligation. Freddie's working as he starts dancing with Cassidy, seeing what he'll do with modern rhythms, and Freddie's thigh pressed between his own.]
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it's a bit odd to have freddie standing taller than usual, but not a bad odd. cassidy stays close as freddie's arms go around his neck, his hands resting on freddie's hips. dancing here is less complicated than in his time, although he would argue that what he's witnessed in clubs looks less like dancing and more like having sex with clothes on to music. it's for that reason that he finds it more intuitive than the roger de coverley.
that being said, he tends to keep his movements simple and follow the other person's lead. having had more to drink beforehand might have helped.
but it's just freddie, and cassidy laughs against his ear. ] Oh, is that the measure of it? You're being paid to dress-up like a doxy?
[ he shifts his hands to the small of freddie's back, ruing the dress for a moment when his fingers can't find bare skin. a streak of heat down the back of his spine answers the roll of his hips against the thigh between his. ]
Here I was thinking it were for your own amusement.
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No idea what a doxy is, but I'm assuming someone else would slap you for it. It's a drag bar.
[He tilts his head back, smiling as another sequinned diva takes the stage to mime. Kylie. Shit, obviously, but even he's got to respect the classics.]
At least, one night a week.
[And no, not for Freddie's own entertainment, though he's grown more comfortable with playing dress ups. It's not his scene, but so few people see him like this anyway, and he does quite like watching how their faces change when they do.
Wouldn't do it in Manchester. Too much of an image to maintain, and boys who fuck boys fuck boys.
But Cassidy? Freddie happens to know he gets his blood up for both, and Freddie's enough of a confusion to appeal across more than one terrain.
Freddie's watching him closely as he curls fingers against his cheek, drags his thumb (nail short but red) across the full of his lips. He lifts his leg, just a fraction, and grins at the result.]
I think you might be enjoying it more.
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[ clearly confused by the terminology, but also clearly caring little at the moment. whatever a drag bar is, it involves freddie looking like he does and really, that's all that matters.
and while it's true cassidy is an equal opportunist, his current interest may have less to do with his attraction to men and women than with his attraction to a certain individual. freddie could be wearing a ridiculous tartan suit or a burlap sack and cassidy would be just as eager to get him out of it every time.
the dress does have a special kind of appeal. it fits like a glove, for one thing. for another, it would provide easy access. as much as cassidy enjoys being completely naked with another person, there's something to be said for the feeling of a woman's skirts rucked around her hips, brushing his thighs. freddie's dress is obviously too short to have that effect ( women's skirts from the future are like that in general, he's found ), but there's merit in that, too.
he turns his head, chasing freddie's thumb as it passes over his lips and nipping at it. the rub of freddie's thigh makes him suck in a breath, and when he exhales it's colored with a laugh. his teeth graze the shell of freddie's ear. ]
I meant what I said. [ freddie makes a fine woman. he moves his hips to a dip in the beat and digs his fingers in above a hipbone. ] How much longer are you working?