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bakerstreet2020-03-26 12:00 pm
countofthree) wrote in bakerstreet2020-03-26 12:00 pm
Entry tags:
picture prompt meme;
— Comment with your character and any preferences.
— Others will leave a picture (or two, or three...)
— Reply to them with a setting or text thread based on the picture.
— Link to any pictures that are NSFW, please.
— Be aware that this meme will be image-heavy.
hi
hello 👀 (possibly all of above)
To be able to let someone in and feel something beyond some passing acquaintance is nearly impossible. She'd like to think she's just selective. And she argues with herself about this before finally firing off a text: What are you doing? Which comes off more casual than it is, without any expectations despite the fact she's staring intensely at her phone wondering if she should add something else. A joke or maybe an emoji? It's been a while. Work's taken forefront.
Christ, she's bad at this.
She glances over her shoulder toward the small stockpile of weapons hidden beneath the backseat in the trunk, wondering if any ideas that involve her feelings could be considered "good" these days. What a mess. Her eyes fall from the fabric of the seating upward and past the fog of her rear window while she tries to talk herself into a silent retreat.
Jill wonders what he's been up to and quickly decides to add: Keeping yourself busy? ;) A nice one. Casual. Not serious, not as intense as she often is, and casual about it all. Like she hasn't been stretched thin for some time now and there's nothing to any of this. The idea of knocking and being normal is quickly passed in favor of scrutinizing her phone.
Fantastic. ]
no subject
He was not normal. That showed in the way he grabbed for his phone when he heard it chirp - a rare sound for him. It was either Jill, Camille, or someone who had found him through the grapevine and needed someone killed. It was usually Jill, and even her communications were few and far between. Duncan was used to solace by now. It didn't bother him too much. Plus, he had his goldfish still. Making it proper fat with all those fish flakes.
He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he reads the messages and they do make him chuckle a little. He's an old man, though, and he doesn't know how to express the fondness he has for the woman over text. What the hell is an emoji, anyway? He's not even sure his phone can make those.
I built a new deck. He's proud of his accomplishments, for one, and saying that he's still cooped up in his cabin all alone in the mountains of Montana sounds a little too sad for such a casual greeting. What about you?]
no subject
She meant to be more intrusive like she had been. Casual and friendly, not taking things between them too seriously, but she tried to text when she could. Send photos when missions allowed for it rather than a full lockdown of communication. Little things, nice things. Things that made attachment clear. ]
Work. Almost was crushed to death by something the size of a house. The usual.
[ But that feels like it's an excuse when she didn't quite have any. So, she sends him a photo of his own house from inside of her car, dashboard visible without zooming in. ]
I know. It looks good. :)
Are you up for company?
[ It's a courtesy, but she's already trailing through what snow has been left behind from the last fall, gently knocking her boots every step up on a stair so she doesn't wet his handiwork even if it was some time ago. Without waiting to take a look, she knocks on the door a few times in an almost-melody. Bundled in her arms is a small brown paper bag, almost invisible with how she's folded around it. Jill tilts her head, tipping her body to try to peek into a window. Despite the way she acts at times, she's still rather impatient. Maybe "eager" is a better word. ]
no subject
He's not entirely surprised by the photo message. Something about her surprise message before had ticked off his spidey senses. Like when a broom falls, or some other sort of superstition that foreshadows a visitor. It was a nice surprise, and he's smiling as he stands from his recliner to meet her at the door. She knocks before he can open it - he'd been hoping he could meet her with an open door, leaning casually. Something cool. But instead he's opening the door, dressed casually in a grey turtleneck and his black jeans, slippers instead of combat boots. God, he probably looks like a grandpa. ]
You almost caught me off guard. I must be losing my touch. [ His voice is gruff, as usual, all those years of cigarettes. He steps aside to usher her inside and closes the door behind her to shut out the cold air. He wonders for how long she will stay. He hasn't had a visitor since the last time she had come around, and that was months ago. ]
no subject
She likes the way he looks because it's similar to her own sense of style. She doesn't look like she's about to hit the gym or rushed over here after a messy mission, just jeans and moto boots with a plain fitted blue sweater beneath the military winter jacket she wears, the fur-lining of the hood snug against her neck while it's pulled down. Her eyes narrow as faint as the corners of her mouth twitch. ]
Guess I have to kick you into shape.
[ Jill playfully nudges his ankle with the tip of her boot before dragging her feet in and onto a rug, removing them without her hands, one foot stepping and pulling on the heel then the other repeating. She follows by unzipping her coat and shrugging it off, sill holding the package with care. Like she's at her own place, she moves comfortably and hangs it up, rolling her shoulders and shivering from the chill of removal.
There's a long moment of hesitation before she brings herself more near, crossing the small distance and into his personal space. Arm bends at the elbow and holds for another stressed second or two then she lifts her hand, gently dragging the back of her nails along his jawline. ]
I'm sorry. Thing went south. It's not an excuse and doesn't make it right, though.
no subject
He wraps an arm around her waist easily, pulling her closer into some semblance of a hug. He doesn't let her go, though, and instead holds her solid body against his own. Solid, too. ]
There is no need to apologize. [ Would it be nice to see her more often? Yes. Does he feel the need for them to have constant communication back and forth? Truthfully no. He's not sure he has enough to say to keep her occupied. They both have lives. He can understand.
One hand splays warm against her back, offering his own body heat. It's never warm enough in his cabin, at least not for her. She deserves some warmth though.
Is he supposed to greet her with a kiss, or something? Is that appropriate? He's not sure, still tip-toeing that boundary between them. This is good enough, for now.
He can't wrap both arms around her because of the package she's holding, so he doesn't crush her against his chest like he might were she empty handed. ]
Did you bring me a present, or is that your luggage? [ His voice rumbles out of him, vibrating his entire chest. He smiles at her, too, looking down at her held closely against himself. ]
no subject
[ She likes the look on him. He takes care of himself and that's what matters. Clean-cut was never her type, friend or otherwise. Letting him lean into her, she swerves her fingers so her palm settles against his cheek. Though never quite fond of facial hair, she can see the appeal when it's him.
Allowing herself to be manipulated, there's no pull or force and much as he only just did, Jill lets her body hit his and relish in his warmth and the solid feel of him; real and present, she needed this more than she thought she did. But only from him -- which is where her problem lies.
It's enough to make her duck her head when he asks about the package and a perfectly good way to cut the moment short and let her thoughts be occupied by something less thick and heavy as the uncertain tension. ]
It's for you. [ An excuse to part, too, as much as she'd like to close her eyes and melt away, letting the outside dissipate like moths scattered in a fog. Jill plucks at it gingerly, pulling out a carved bear. The style is simplistic, but with intricate, skilled detail put into it. It's offered to him with a more coy smile. ] A doorstop I picked up in Finland. It reminded me of you when I saw it, so...
[ So, here it is. There's still more, at least. This time, bigger. A bottle of 30 year aged Japanese whiskey. ]
I had some undercover work with the yakuza. I... I mean I bought this. It wasn't a gift from them or anything. [ Something more to explain the radio silence. She played the role of a foreign businesswoman well. ] I'm afraid that's it, though. I was going to get you a knife, but I rely on Fallkniven and would've just got one of theirs... maybe an A1? I wanted to get you something, you know, decent.
[ Not that knives aren't. Without knowing how to respond beyond that, she just falls into a neutral but genuine smile, curved with an earnest desire to be here and with him. There's still something weighted in the bag, enough that she holds it close, but she's not giving it up just yet. ]
no subject
She slips away though, and he allows her to. What else were they going to do, stare at each other for an hour? Plus, he really is curious. She always brings things that interest him - weapons, trophies from her missions - secrets - other things that he finds fascinating and makes him feel like he's a treasured part of her life. A treasured....friend.
The bear makes his brows raise, in affection and surprise. It really suits the aesthetic of his cabin, and he already knows the perfect place to display the bear where it can be fully appreciated. He takes it from her hands so he can look at it more closely, smiling like a proud father getting a really precious gift. It warms his cold, black heart. ]
It kinda looks like me, huh? [ Which is Duncanese for it's amazing, I love it, wow I really love it! He's just too stuffy to express that. He looks up at her again, then, and she's bearing more gifts and he's setting the bear down on the counter for now so he can take the bottle of whiskey in both hands, cradling it preciously. ] Holy shit... [ and he means that at the impressiveness of the bottle as well as her story of how she got a hold of it. Always something new and different with her, he thinks, intrigued.
He walks the bottle over to the cabinet where he keeps the rest of his stash and allows it to be displayed in the center, where it looks more impressive than the others. He seems proud of it, chest puffed out a bit as he makes his way back to her with his hands in his pockets.
She looks at him, and he looks back. His expression softens but he doesn't quite smile. He's still working on that...sometimes being away from other humans so long makes him forget how to use his face. ]
You don't have to bring me gifts when you feel sorry about how busy you get with work. You know that, Jill.
no subject
[ His phrasing has her break character and frown for a split-second; not out of discomfort or unhappiness, but because it's very unexpected. Which makes her wonder why that is? Considering that she's here now, as she is, and not seeking out her small group of friends in the same field. He makes her happy. Happier still, when she gets to see his reaction; he's a quiet and subtle man and she doesn't expect him to work to be "normal" around her when you have to scratch the surface to get her to be more genuine. Neither of them are normal and it's fine that they aren't.
She cherishes his expression, framing it in her mind's eye for later. ]
Only a little.
[ It urges out a taut smile, the kind kept tight to prevent laughter. Jill still chuckles, though, allowing herself to relax and be more of herself in this moment. Her fingers reach the side of her face where he'd brushed his fingers earlier, but it's not something she realizes consciously while her head dips shyly. ]
I didn't bring them for that reason. I picked them up because I was thinking of you. [ It comes out easily and without embarrassment or worry of repercussion even if it feels more like an admission of something more. Something that's rusted over and snapped in two, yet somehow has managed to build itself back up again. She keeps her eyes on his, head tilted to make up for the height difference. ] ...besides, if you think I'm not going to make you pour me a glass at some point, you've got another thing coming.
[ The teasing tone returns, easier to settle into. It's a comfortable friend that deflects, but she's still got the paper bag in her hand that she now extends to him. Inside is a silver key, the kind that can only be to a door. She doesn't say anything about it or offer any explanation. It would've been better, decidedly, to make him pour her a glass before this but after his suggestion it feels as if it's something that needed to be done now, without pretense or inhibitions slipping away. Trust. ]
no subject
Besides, she likes spending time with him. He's obviously not too old and boring.
He looks up at her when she speaks, at attention. Duncan laughs and shakes his head. ]
I'll pour you a glass. Who else am I gonna share it with, anyway?
[ The last part of her gift is unexpected, still. He opens the bag, tearing it a bit at the opening, and turns the key out onto his palm. He stares at it for a long moment before his gaze flickers back to his guest, offering a moment of uncertainty before he closes his hand around it. With the other, he retrieves his own key ring from his pocket so he can secure the new key with the others that he keeps close.
When that's done, he slips the entire key ring back into his pocket and turns his attention back to Jill. Just watches for a moment, testing her expression before he steps forward to be closer. He's at a lack of action, then, unsure of what to do. ]
Should I crack into that bottle, then?
no subject
Though it might be a little joke, it has her pause to reach for his wrist. Just a brushing ghost of a touch. Enough that it lingers, though.
She likes to think she works well in silence, but she questions it all the same. Eyes flicker up and down, but quickly settle to peer up at him. It's a tight, dry feeling in her chest that drags upward through her throat, but she shows no indication of this and pushes it down. Acknowledging it would mean a lot of things that she's not sure how to articulate. ]
...if you ever need anything, my apartment is open to you. The coffee table slides open and has an AR in it. There's more supplies beneath the floorboards. [ That's only one reason. She carries on with a soft but almost audible swallow, smiling in a mild way that is more uncertain than anything else. ] Or if you just want to come by. BSAA HQ are always open to you, as well.
[ A faint push toward getting him out sometimes, but also protection if needed. Even if she doesn't think he'd need it. He knows how to work alone, but she's distinctly aware that she makes people a target. Part of why she's all over the place and more quiet than usual. ]
I'd like to stay here with you for a while, if you don't mind. [ A casual but loaded request that she's quick to cover-up with an addition of answering his question. Sort of. ] Give me a minute.
[ But she decides to uncover it rather than keep it all hidden. Jill doesn't hesitate to take a step closer, moving to the tips of her toes while still focusing on his face, trying to read the situation but still certain of what she means to do. Her fingers clasp lightly against his bicep while the other hand goes in to reach for his shoulder, urging him down. Jill is quick about it, but the motion is smooth and without second-thought when she leans into him and relishes in his warmth, letting her nose hit his chin before lightly pressing her mouth to his. Over and done, except for the lingering where her lips go to the corner of his mouth, enjoying the prickle of his beard.
She breathes against his skin for a moment before slipping back down, hand still against his arm, but gripping less loosely. ]
Alright. [ Her hand drags and she notices while slipping by him, like this is all normal for the two of them and not something a little more new and precise, the changes in the cabin. She gestures vaguely when her fingers hit an empty space. ] You've done other things, not just the deck... [ She glances back at him as she carries on to inspect, trying not to keep a distance but knowing she's intentionally giving him space. Her voice comes a bit timid for her. ] But... I really have thought of you this whole while.