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 Posted: Mon Apr 21, 2014 1:55 pm
Quote: @AwesomeJediMark to @chromaticore -- ; ) when r u unbusy enough to meet the MARKANATOR Quote: @chromaticore to @AwesomeJediMark -- Lmao! Got a spar after lunch but free about 4 if you think you can handle it. Quote: AwesomeJediMark to @chromaticore -- oh i can handle it wink drop by my lair its hard to miss man ask for his sexiness (me) This felt way too familiar. It wasn't the first time that someone had set Milly up on some weird blind date through the internet. One of her friends had been running an OkCupid profile for her for at least the past year with interesting results. She'd tried Eharmony once but all that had produced was a very awkward one night stand after a coffee date. The coffee hadn't even been all that great and the conversation worse, which was probably why what had happened, happened. A finger scrolled through the Twitter conversation that had set her up on this incredibly odd...whatever it was. It wasn't a date but considering the conversation going on about this Mark guy (who had Mimsy's full endorsement) it seemed he was definitely one of the movers and shakers of Deus. It couldn't hurt to at least meet the MARKANATOR, as he'd called himself. As she was going to call him. Repeatedly. Lifting a hand the redhead smoothed a tendril of purple-tinged hair behind her ear, puffing out a breath, and knocking.
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Posted: Mon Apr 21, 2014 5:46 pm
Mark's lair of doom was impossible to miss, first of all because, right on the door covered in yellow caution tape was literally a sign that said MARK'S LAIR OF DOOM, and below it, a handwritten sign in terrible printing that said "don't come in unless invited I mean it!" It was the kind of door that wedged the Death assistant right into the hopeless man territory of where he belonged. The second reason his Lair of Doom was impossible to miss was that anytime anyone asked about Mark's hidden lair, they all made a strange disgruntled face, one that suggested either their opinion of said person, or the fact that they just had very terrible bowel movements.
Pointing to the right direction would ensue because misery loved company.
The door opened, about enough for Mark to poke his grubby face out. An attempt had been made to clean himself up, and he now suffered due to it, his man beard about half-shaved, strands of beard just poking out unevenly right before chin touched neck. He had tried to smooth down his hair, with varied results, and by smooth down really, sprayed it down with Axe chocolate body spray.
So much of it in fact that the first thing that happened once the door opened was a huge cloistering puff of Axe chocolate body spray escaping the room and inhibiting the senses of anyone withing breathing range.
He was wearing his full Jedi regalia, so basically what looked like a set of robes on top of more robes, or glorified linen sheets. The door opened a bit more and then Mark posed at it, one arm at the doorframe in what he thought was a sexy half-resting half-standing, but still looking at Cami coyly sort of scenario going on (it wasn't and he looked like he was going to fall over).
He just stood there like that for a moment longer until his arm couldn't hold him and he fell over right into the beer bottles, papers, magazines, and collectible Mcdonalds action figures that was the floor lair. An arm poked out from the trash heap. "I'm okay!"
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Posted: Tue Apr 29, 2014 10:27 am
Oh. Oh God. It wasn't the Jedi robes because Cami had seen costumes with less care put into them and, really, hadn't she been warned to expect it? It wasn't the haphazard beard because she would have found that attempt cute if a bit ineffectual. Nor was it the dorkiness, the state of the room she could see, or his slicked-back hair. It was the Axe. Even girls who had never had a single date in junior high school lived in fear of that scent. It haunted their nightmares as the harbinger of a boy who was trying far too hard with an ego so inflated that he'd probably end up hurting both himself and the poor girl in the process. Never mind that it had to be, bar none, the worst Axe scent on the planet. Camille had always wondered why they kept selling that mustard gas canister for normal people to put on but, apparently, she'd just found out why. Clearly he'd bough the entire stock. And used it. Still, he'd seemed pleasant enough on Twitter and hadn't really done anything more than be rather goofy while wearing the mass-market edition of formaldehyde. Staring down at the hand that poked out from the junk pile she took a shallow breath before grasping at the hand and starting to pull, trying to get poor Mark to his feet.
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Posted: Thu May 08, 2014 6:13 pm
Mark grabbed onto her hand like a lifeline, just as a cockroach escaped the sleeve of his coat and half-crawled up Cami's arm before diving back into the pile at elbow level.
"Thanks, you're a bro." Mark paused, and stiffened, "Err, I mean like a cool woman bro, like a bro of the woman type, like bros who are women, but who are not men bros, but like the women version of bros if there was a word for that." He finally paused blathering. "Wait, hang on!" The Death assistant grabbed a can of Axe from the pile off the ground, applied another generous spray to himself and then gave her the smoulder again.
A long pause.
"So like, are we doing dine in or dine out." More eyebrow wiggling.
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Posted: Fri May 23, 2014 8:02 pm
Eyes went wide as saucers at the cockroach that crawled up her arm, blessing more than ever that she was wearing long-sleeves because oh God if those little legs had touched her skin there would be no end to the screaming. She was trying so very, very hard. The advent of the bug and more of the Axe had it so that the poor girl was having to remind herself that Mark came highly recommended by a reputable source. Cami didn't even stop to think about Mimsy's knowledge or how she could base this recommendation. Later, when she did think about it, she would reason it was not first-hand knowledge. "Ladybro." The word was helpfully volunteered as she simply laughed slightly at the level of eyebrow waggle. "And out, of course. The whole point is to get out and do something you don't do much, isn't it?" Not to mention she was not particularly keen into wading through that mess in her shoes. They were nice shoes that didn't deserve to potentially be covered in unfortunate bug guts or, even worse, drowned in the scent of Axe should she manage to step in a puddle of it. Tugging on a corner of Mark's robe, because admittedly she was afraid to touch too much of his sleeve for fear of another friend peeping out to say hi, she motioned outside. "C'mon."
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Posted: Fri May 30, 2014 6:45 pm
"Okay hang on," Mark paused right at the door, took out another bottle of Axe body spray from within his sleeves and applied generously to himself. He then grabbed his keycard lanyard from the hook on the door, stuffed it in some pocket somewhere inside his robes, and locked the door.
The Death assistant proceeded to take about two steps before freezing up again, slowly turning around. "Um," he started, "can we like, not hold hands. I don't think I'm ready for holding hands." He lowered his voice to a loud stage whisper. "It usually leads up to the sex and I was very hurt and I don't think I am ready for that and I need you to respect my choices okay." Pause. "For the sex. Of which I've totally had."
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