[f28-pp] fall.

[iris 0]

okay. okay. okay. 

she needed a recap.

it wasn't too long ago that she had attended the party out of her own volition. on one hand, she hadn't expected the night to take her anywhere, only marquis to be her conversational companion to tide the time. on the other...

... fuck.

iris bit her lower lip.

they had since exchanged contact information. since when, iris wasn't sure, but her best guess was right before both of them had drunk enough to feign forgetting the night, beyond their exchange of pleasure and lust. and she had, since then, pretended to have forgotten her time at the blackbook. they didn't call them one night stands for nothing, after all.

but. also.

night stands were furniture, and she kept finding them in her bedroom.

granted, the other founders of the scarlet line had their own house and home to return to; barring that, guild dormitories were looking fancier every day, ever since the update, so masa and jean never needed to be present at night. yes, the intention for renting out the workshop had always been, for most players, a form of early-game housing had they been unable to afford a proper plot that cardinal expected them to cough up exorbitant amounts of col for. she had managed that amount only in passing, never to own it proper. big whoop.

but upon the scarlet line's creation, the storefront had been furnished well. 

all she was doing was exercising the benefits that came with the job, y'know?

and it had been a quiet week, it seemed. jean had said something about going camping for a cookout marathon on floor thirty, and for once iris didn't lean into the obligation to tag along to see the people she had been familiar with once upon a time. no, she simply stated that bistro had a pile of orders from her after her lackeys' latest expedition, and as both masa's plus-one and bistro's secondary contact, jean never bothered looking into it.

so. yeah. 

to say that iris had been preoccupied since then was an understatement. this was simply one of the many days she found herself antsy, hands too idle, mouth too dry, to be able to entertain crafting hypothetical reports for appraising equipment that never existed.

no. iris was simply stewing at her glass desk, chewing fervently at her lower lip, unsatiated for the fifth time this week. she had her needs — er, desires — met twice so far (frankly, they'd both lucked out on the second opportunity), and iris was simply too entertained with the memory of the last interaction they had to have freed herself from her station. hell, if she were to be asked there and then, she'd argue her station was right between...

 

 

... shit, for an office that was never warm, the heat she was subjected to was unbearable..

iris, full of blushes and gushes simply laid her cheek against the glass surface of her table and groaned. here she was, hoping for yet another miracle to happen, as she stared at her interface like a dreadful stalker. they couldn't keep meeting solely on this basis, could they? she thought better of herself for being able to maintain boundaries with her desires, and wasn't sure what to make of a professional giving in to her and her alone. 

(at least, by sin's own words, iris was certain she was the exception thus far. not like she had bothered to investigate, nor ask. it was none of her business otherwise. iris was sure a classy act like sin had her schedule packed full with clients on the regular.)

when she found herself done with moping, iris shook her head with a frown. somehow, she had to keep things together and be normal about this. be cool. be real.

so like a totally normal cool real person, she sent a message to sin after thirty minutes of earnest deliberation.

iris: Good afternoon Sin. I was wondering if you were possibly booked this evening? I had plans to dine at an eatery on the twenty-eighth later and would be delighted to be graced with your company. It's alright if you're unable to; I'll be heading out at eight if you'd like to join me, and I'll understand your silence for business until then. Talk soon when you're able to! - Iris

 

 

 

 

wait why did she sign off this wasn't an email could she cancel that message wait help help help

#stats go here.

[Sin 0]

When Sin had purchased her tropical paradise, she thought that she would have plenty of time to throw parties for the girls. Call up Ash and Lisa and some fuck boys who were only good at one thing in particular and just enjoy the sun and the sand and the heat. Alas, Visionary and Blackbook responsibilities kept her far too busy for party planning. As such, she barely had enough time to sunbathe by the pool. What did a girl have to do in order to get herself some much-needed rest and relaxation? Well, it was rather obvious what she had to do. Just silence all of her notifications. For the next 48 hours, their problems were their problems. She was going to enjoy the perks of being a property owner, come Hell or high water.

And so she did. Lounging in a beach chair, somehow dressed down more than she usually was. She wore nothing but her shades and a skimpy two-piece. And that was only because people kept wandering onto her property. If they wanted a peek at the goods, they would pay for the privilege. At this point, she'd clocked the same guy five times. Even without her tits out, it seemed that she had attracted more attention than she wanted to. Whatever. So long as he kept himself on his side of the fence, she didn't really give a fuck. Honestly, as she watched him linger along the property line for the sixth time out of the corner of her eye, Sin found herself weighing the pros and the cons of just giving the guy eight seconds on her ride. Maybe he'd fuck off and let her tan in peace.

The message came through as he finally worked up the nerve to approach her. The balls on this guy, trespassing like that. He opened his mouth to speak and Sin held up one finger as she opened the message. Her Bambi. Truth of the matter was that Sin hadn't been able to work up the nerve to reach out. Beyond the physical, of course. Definitely hadn't been anything close to going out for dinner. Unless that dinner was-

It didn't matter.

What did matter was the fact that she now had something far more gratifying than this poor, shy bastard on her plate.

"Hey I'm-"

"Fuck off," Sin snapped. "Got plans with the girlfriend. Go admire the view-" She gestured vaguely off in the distance. "Somewhere over there. Just get the fuck out of my face."

She didn't wait for a reply from the man. She was too busy typing hers as he departed her estate, completely dejected. She typed out a reply, then deleted it. Then she did it again. And again. And again. For a full half-hour. Sin usually didn't find herself quite so nervous, but Iris was...

Well she didn't know what she was. But she certainly knew how excited she got hearing the message. Excited and happy. And a happy Sin...

To Iris: Bambi. Baby. Relax. I'd love to go out with you. But maybe you should come by my place so we can pregame? I haven't really broken my house in yet. I think you could help me out? We can totes do dinner after.

The message sent. Sin sent a second. No words, just an image. Tongue stuck out, a wink peering out over her shades as she sent Iris the full picture of what she was getting into. If only her poor top had managed to stay on while she took it.

[iris 0]

iris had to wait for half an hour to get a reply.

it was agonizing, in the mean time. for starters, not only had she chickened out revisiting the message after she'd seen the read notification update in real time in front of her, but also, in anticipating the reply, she'd lingered on the conversation menu for a lot longer than she would've liked to admit was normal for her. five whole minutes, dedicated to watching their chat like a sentry, pretending nothing they'd mentioned to each other on prior days had been anything to fantasize about.

no, she was definitely busying herself on purpose by the time sin's reply came in. never mind whether or not the attempt worked, mind you, because it definitely didn't. reviewing the optional notes bistro had sent her for a second look had she had opinions on them only made her speculate more on the variety of locations there were in aincrad that they may be able to wander into just to have a little fun. 

(why had she been given a selection of regional investigations with such a specific line up to begin with, anyway? if iris didn't know any better, she would've guessed that's because the curation was on purpose, whether bistro had known about it or otherwise.)

so there was the message. iris only checked it past the moment she'd become too dazed with the idea of receiving attention from sin at all, only to have her reading comprehension throttle past the series of pet names thereafter. relax — oh, sin, how could she, when she knew not where they stood with each other? and though iris' attempt had been valiant in trying to rectify the case with sin on her own initiative...

 

well. the second text thereafter had her pacing back and forth across the scarlet line; that was the problem.

did that mean that, in earnesty, sin was completely confident in her preference to iris as a cuddle-buddy? or was she expected to read further into those notes, make her move — or was that crossing a line in the most creepy way possible, given sin's job, given iris wanted to be as respectful completely with the rules of their exchange? but they had no rules. did these things usually have them in the first place? gods — did somebody out there in aincrad have a handbook on these things or was she the only one in the universe facing these forsaken problems?

iris was too wound up by minute five, even after trotting through the shop, so she decided base desires be damned, she needed a short term goal first (um, 'redecorating'(?) and a dinner) before she had the peace of mind to entertain things between them further than that. defaulting to whatever persona she could manage (maybe the only persona she could manage amongst others in public when she was internally decimated, in more ways than one), her fingers drifted over the keys, until her index hit the button that sent off her composition.

iris: I'd love to! See you at six? I'll need an address, of course, if you don't mind me coming over on my own.

she tried to hide her gaze from the image again with her hand over her eyes, fingers parted ever so slightly as if not to look. she was only trying to revisit her case of their acquaintanceship, really; iris needed this — err, needed to get over to sin's on her own, she'd meant — because if she couldn't come to her on her own terms—

 

 

— ;;

ah, screw this!

 

 

though the scarlet line was already open on private invitation only, and had the 'closed' sign flipped to the front for a majority of its operational hours, its lone shopkeeper simply added an additional deterrence — a note that said 'we'll be back after lunch! (15 minutes approximately)' on the glass door — before darkening the halls, its interiors only illuminated with the light pouring through the glass from outside.