Marius Laverne (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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xp_logs2024-01-14 12:05 pm
xp_emplate) wrote in xp_logs2024-01-14 12:05 pm
The Marius Laverne Apology Tour Part 1: Gabriel and Jubilee
The apology tour starts with Gabe. There really is no good way to say 'sorry for the throttling.'
"Don't shut the door, I'm just here dropping off."
How did one sufficiently apologise for mild throttling and generally unsettling behaviour whilst doing the bidding of a being of fathomless age and inscrutable motives? Buggered if he knew, but Marius was saying it with wine.
He proffered the wooden box holding the rather nice vintage to Gabriel. He was, notably, wearing a pair of supple leather gloves at the moment.
"Veuve Clicquot," Marius remarked. "Apologies, I hadn't time to reach out to my regular suppliers. Figured you were owed a bit of an apology for encountering me whilst I was an evil prick."
Gabriel, in high-priced, well-fitting athleisure, crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. "Hm," he said after a second, looking from Marius to the box, then back to Marius. "Surprised you're not holding it by the neck."
The older man blinked at him, once, then nodded.
"Well, it would rather spoil the packaging," Marius remarked, "but if you'd like I'll stay here while you open it so you can glass me one. Lost the shifting and teleportation add-ons, so you should be able to get in a few good shots."
"Too tired." Gabriel did not make a move to let him in, still weighing his options. "I hurt myself, if you can believe it, and the healing process took a lot out of me." Here, too, deja vu. Another grievance, another apology, another occasion in which Gabriel refused to make it the slightest bit easy. It was hard not to feel like he was just treading water.
"Would you like to come in?" Gabriel turned and retreated to his room, not bothering to wait for an answer; if Marius wanted to follow he would. "I'm loath to open a bottle of champagne, but I can make you something else that ought to make the rest of your apology tour go easier."
The invitation was almost certainly perfunctory, but Marius had never let a high probability of awkwardness get in his way and he wasn't about to start now. The Australian followed him in.
"Yes to the first, no to the second," Marius replied. "I deserve to atone for my sins in the harsh light of sobriety."
"Nobody deserves that." Gabriel gestured to a spot on the counter for Marius to put the Veuve, then pulled out his phone to check the time. "Hm." He went to the fridge to grab an open bottle of Spanish vermouth and a can of club soda.
"So, like, is this one of those apologies where you don't really remember what happened but you're sorry? Or more of a 'I'm not sure what came over me but I'm wrestling with these things that were apparently deep inside me' situation?" The process of drink-making kept him from looking Marius in the eye and reading his expression. "Or a new script entirely? I just want to calibrate."
Marius obliged him by taking the opportunity to study Gabriel's living quarters instead. "Oh, no. I recall perfectly, and know precisely what came over me. The best I can say for myself is I now understand the impulse to monologue. Lacking the capacity to credit others with any sort of humanity, the sound of one's own voice becomes positively mesmerizing. And of all the things I've been accused of, 'taciturn' has never made the list."
The older man turned slightly to a bookshelf, keeping his body language oblique. "In truth, I just thought it best to meet this straight on. If it's to be awkward best it's sorted early so we both might calibrate accordingly. But, for what it's worth, I am sorry for laying hands on you and Molly. I can't say Akkaba added anything that wasn't already there. Only removed what keeps it from taking hold." Marius straightened a small item with the tip of his gloved finger. "A much worse thing to contemplate whilst sober than an apology, I think, but there we are."
"Refreshingly honest." Gabriel finished pouring his vermouth spritz and turned to face Marius. "You're not looking for absolution, are you? I mean, I know it wasn't your fault, that's kinda the best I can do."
Marius turned enough to give the younger man's practiced pour a nod of approval. He knew good technique when he saw it, and seemed to recall Gabriel had been a bartender -- or, if he hadn't been, certainly spent enough time around bars to approximate it. One gloved hand waved.
"I am truly not," said Marius. "The plan was in fact to drop off the wine and slink awkwardly away, but then you invited me in. I hadn't even prepared a tight five for a vampire joke."
"My mistake," Gabriel said. He took a sip of his cocktail. It was decidedly summer: breezy, simple, bright. Inappropriate for the season and the moment. He should have opened an earthier vermouth. "It's for the best you stopped by," he said, seeming to decide it as the words were leaving his mouth, as if his statement was making it so. "I mean, I can't speak for you, but the last thing I need is another person to try and avoid. This place isn't that big."
Marius spread his hands in agreement. "Such was my reasoning. One or two, perhaps, but once you find yourself having to make up a list of the wronged it just becomes excessive. So . . . questions, comments, grievances? The offer to glass me still stands, incidentally. Fair is fair."
Talking, talking, talking. For one of the few times in his life, Marius felt the poverty of words -- or his words, at least. Watching Gabriel's carefully controlled lack of reactions made Marius acutely aware that what he really wanted to ask, but could not, was quite simple: What can I do to make you feel safe from me?
He lowered his hands, feeling the soft catch of the leather against the teeth in his palms as he did. What a question to ask of someone, when he didn't even feel safe from himself.
"I'm not sure that would help much." Gabriel said flatly, with a shrug. "It's not like hitting you really worked for me anyway. And I can't imagine what it would do now." He took another sip, mostly to buy time as he considered. "I dunno man. That shit sucked. Probably sucked for you as much as it sucked for the rest of us." He wasn't entirely convinced of that. "In some ways," he added, because that seems more apt.
"There's no Band-Aid. Shit takes time." Another shrug. "But at least we can talk about it," Gabriel added. "It's not like it'll bring the universe down." Was it in poor taste to joke about the almost apocalypse? Probably. He didn't care.
"You know, there is that. I did not, in fact, participate in the end of another reality. It was a low bar, but shall I accept this win? Yes." Marius shook his head. "Funny, that. The talking, the world . . . that's why I ended up where I did. I got sick, but all the people I knew could help me were here with all the associated baggage. Building a life outside of it took some doing; the prospect of dipping back in after so long did not entice. So I looked elsewhere. Shockingly, avoiding the most logical option based solely on personal discomfort did not go well." He glanced down at the hands folded lightly over his own forearms. "So, no. From now on I shall be engaging in communication. No space for another god awful chest tattoo, for one."
"Tattoo would probably be less painful." Gabriel set the glass down on the counter. "Ironic that you've ended up with more baggage, I guess."
Marius shrugged with an ease he did not feel. "De rigueur for me, I'm afraid. All the most regrettable incidents in my life seem to have come about because I didn't like the options before me. But then, my power is only reactive physical adaptation. I never claimed it to extend between the ears." He brushed his hands against his sides against the spectre of encroaching lint. Borrowed sweats truly were the most cursed of attire for tendering a sincere apology. He sighed. "Is there anything you need from me? Or rather, anything I can do for you? Don't be afraid to ask for money, incidentally. Some people take being asked for material compensation an affront to their honour. I assure you, honour and I barely nod to each other in the hall."
"Oh, is money an option?" Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Well. That's interesting." He turned back to the fridge, using his powers to quickly withdraw a navel orange, grab a knife, slice a wedge off and drop it in his drink, all while Marius stood there. "No," he said after what had been a good while for him, but only a moment for the other man. "I'm fine. We're good. I'll make awkward jokes, you'll get a little uncomfortable, and then inevitably, something more chaotic and damaging to one or both of us will happen here."
"Mate, I've had a pair of mouths in the palms of my hands since I was 16. No joke now exists that is so awkward as to make me uncomfortable." Marius noted the apparent jump in Gabriel's movements without comment. It was true that he did have something of a professional interest in exotic mutations, and he did admit to some lingering curiosity about Gabriel's. The other man had never given him a clear answer on way or another. But that information, like absolution, was not something he was owed.
"Anyway, I'll leave you to it, then," Marius said, turning for the door. "I appreciate the audience. May we both have minimally exciting interactions in the future."
Gabriel raised his glass again as he watched Marius depart. "From your lips to God's ears."
Next stop on the tour: Jubilee (with ample carbohydrates as offerings).
The serving cart veritably sagged beneath the array of food on offer. Espresso-rubbed steak bites. Three different types of loaded baked potatoes. An entire tub of barbeque spare ribs. Deep fried red velvet cheesecake drizzled with chocolate syrup. Somewhere in there, making an attempt to offer temporary respite from raw protein and pure carbohydrates, was a spinach salad sprinkled with strawberries, blueberries, walnuts and goat cheese. Its efforts were immediately offset by the adjacent box of fancy dark chocolates.
"For some I come with spirits," said Marius, "but for you I have acquired the gift of saturated fats."
“It’s almost as if you had something to apologise for,” Jubilee noted with a smile but she pulled the salad towards her first and started digging in with the supplied fork. “You can have some too, like, don’t make me eat all this alone.”
The words were somewhat distorted by her eating but she figured Marius could translate well enough, he’d lived with Kyle for at least some of his kidnappings.
"If you insist." The spare ribs were the most accessible, but it meant removing the gloves. Marius hesitated for a moment, then shrugged inwardly. Jubilee had all but unhinged her jaw in front of him. She wasn't precious.
"You are correct," Marius continued as he peeled off his gloves and tucked them into one pocket, "in addition to food I come with my sincere apologies. I am not unfamiliar with unpleasantly exhausting one's physical reserves."
Sounds of eating were all that met the apologies for a moment as Jubilee continued to work her way through the salad while also reaching over and plucking one of the types of loaded potato off its tray and chowing down on that too.
“It’s a bitch,” Jubilee admitted with a shrug as she gave him a once over. “Glad I didn’t kill you though.”
Marius plucked one of the ribs from the bucket and contemplated it for a moment. "Truthfully, if ever you find yourself in a similar situation I ask you not devote too much worry to that. It was hardly the first time I've needed someone to put me down. Comes a point where it's a bit ridiculous, you know?" He took a bite of the rib, the teeth in his mouth briefly coming within touching distance of the ones in his palms.
“Kid, if I’m ever unhappy that someone lived when maybe they could have died it’s probably time to put me down,” Jubilee noted as she took another loaded potato and swallowed it almost whole. She noted calling someone who was probably close to her age kid was odd at best but she couldn’t help it. He was…hurt shaped. She knew that hurt, and sometimes you needed, something that wasn’t judgement but maybe also something that wasn’t complete forgiveness either. “How you want this to go like? Cause I’m totes fine with being ‘You’re bad, don’t turn into Death again’, or I can be like ‘you owe me at least a fancy dinner at some place in New York’ if that’s better?”
"I come here as supplicant, and as such I have no demands one way or another." Marius grinned at her. "Besides, that's an unfair question. It is not within my power to reject the opportunity to wine and dine a beautiful woman who can, not coincidentally, liquify pavement if she so desires."
As with Terry, Marius found it was becoming easier to slip back into the old smiles, the old patter, like a stiff muscle being stretched. Easier to slip into, and easier to rely upon. It was so much simpler to deflect than confront.
“So, here’s how I figure we can do this, and like, both are gonna end with you taking me to dinner because like Nora brought me outfits and the world deserves to see that stuff, and you actually know which forks to use which is an up on some of the guys I let watch me eat,” Jubilee noted as she pulled in the steak bites and the mash potatoes and gravy she’d noted to the side. “Anyway, the first way is I let you get away with the whole ‘I’m a player, let me flirt so I don’t need to deal with being not okay’, which sometimes, totes valid and I’ve gone there multiple times. Or, you can totally be not okay, and I can like, not push for details and you can like, exist and eat with me and if you need a hug, or you wanna come up here and just exist beside me, I’m pretty good with that too.”
The Australian froze, just for an instant, and then looked up at her.
"And if I were to say I am both a player and, just perhaps, slightly less than okay?" he said after a moment. "We contain multitudes, after all."
“I’d tip my hat, as game recognizes game,” Jubilee noted with a sparkle of humor in her eyes and moved over as she tapped the space she’d made beside her in invitation. “And then I’d mention that being ‘not ok’ is normal and say sometimes things take time, and it’s okay to lean on people, especially if they’re offering to share food.”
There was another infinitesimal pause, as of some internal calculation being run. Accept the outstretched hand, pretend not to recognise it as such, or reject it outright: three possibilities, all equally viable. Not for the first time Marius was acutely aware of the help being offered so freely . . . if only he would accept it.
"I would be reluctant to lean on one who would currently collapse in a stiff breeze," Marius said at last, "although I would make note of the generous invitation for perhaps a later date. I will, however, accept an offer of a shared meal -- and provide you with another once you've recovered, so that you may indeed show the world your fabulous outfits. Although I confess I am now circling back to the 'guys I let watch me eat' comment with a certain sense of concerned intrigue."
Jubilee smiled wryly as she took a bite of potato and gravy and washed it down with a gulp of water. She recognized when someone had gone as far as they could go in one moment, and let it go.
“Oh my sweet summer child, let me regale you with the things I do to keep us all safe.”
"Don't shut the door, I'm just here dropping off."
How did one sufficiently apologise for mild throttling and generally unsettling behaviour whilst doing the bidding of a being of fathomless age and inscrutable motives? Buggered if he knew, but Marius was saying it with wine.
He proffered the wooden box holding the rather nice vintage to Gabriel. He was, notably, wearing a pair of supple leather gloves at the moment.
"Veuve Clicquot," Marius remarked. "Apologies, I hadn't time to reach out to my regular suppliers. Figured you were owed a bit of an apology for encountering me whilst I was an evil prick."
Gabriel, in high-priced, well-fitting athleisure, crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. "Hm," he said after a second, looking from Marius to the box, then back to Marius. "Surprised you're not holding it by the neck."
The older man blinked at him, once, then nodded.
"Well, it would rather spoil the packaging," Marius remarked, "but if you'd like I'll stay here while you open it so you can glass me one. Lost the shifting and teleportation add-ons, so you should be able to get in a few good shots."
"Too tired." Gabriel did not make a move to let him in, still weighing his options. "I hurt myself, if you can believe it, and the healing process took a lot out of me." Here, too, deja vu. Another grievance, another apology, another occasion in which Gabriel refused to make it the slightest bit easy. It was hard not to feel like he was just treading water.
"Would you like to come in?" Gabriel turned and retreated to his room, not bothering to wait for an answer; if Marius wanted to follow he would. "I'm loath to open a bottle of champagne, but I can make you something else that ought to make the rest of your apology tour go easier."
The invitation was almost certainly perfunctory, but Marius had never let a high probability of awkwardness get in his way and he wasn't about to start now. The Australian followed him in.
"Yes to the first, no to the second," Marius replied. "I deserve to atone for my sins in the harsh light of sobriety."
"Nobody deserves that." Gabriel gestured to a spot on the counter for Marius to put the Veuve, then pulled out his phone to check the time. "Hm." He went to the fridge to grab an open bottle of Spanish vermouth and a can of club soda.
"So, like, is this one of those apologies where you don't really remember what happened but you're sorry? Or more of a 'I'm not sure what came over me but I'm wrestling with these things that were apparently deep inside me' situation?" The process of drink-making kept him from looking Marius in the eye and reading his expression. "Or a new script entirely? I just want to calibrate."
Marius obliged him by taking the opportunity to study Gabriel's living quarters instead. "Oh, no. I recall perfectly, and know precisely what came over me. The best I can say for myself is I now understand the impulse to monologue. Lacking the capacity to credit others with any sort of humanity, the sound of one's own voice becomes positively mesmerizing. And of all the things I've been accused of, 'taciturn' has never made the list."
The older man turned slightly to a bookshelf, keeping his body language oblique. "In truth, I just thought it best to meet this straight on. If it's to be awkward best it's sorted early so we both might calibrate accordingly. But, for what it's worth, I am sorry for laying hands on you and Molly. I can't say Akkaba added anything that wasn't already there. Only removed what keeps it from taking hold." Marius straightened a small item with the tip of his gloved finger. "A much worse thing to contemplate whilst sober than an apology, I think, but there we are."
"Refreshingly honest." Gabriel finished pouring his vermouth spritz and turned to face Marius. "You're not looking for absolution, are you? I mean, I know it wasn't your fault, that's kinda the best I can do."
Marius turned enough to give the younger man's practiced pour a nod of approval. He knew good technique when he saw it, and seemed to recall Gabriel had been a bartender -- or, if he hadn't been, certainly spent enough time around bars to approximate it. One gloved hand waved.
"I am truly not," said Marius. "The plan was in fact to drop off the wine and slink awkwardly away, but then you invited me in. I hadn't even prepared a tight five for a vampire joke."
"My mistake," Gabriel said. He took a sip of his cocktail. It was decidedly summer: breezy, simple, bright. Inappropriate for the season and the moment. He should have opened an earthier vermouth. "It's for the best you stopped by," he said, seeming to decide it as the words were leaving his mouth, as if his statement was making it so. "I mean, I can't speak for you, but the last thing I need is another person to try and avoid. This place isn't that big."
Marius spread his hands in agreement. "Such was my reasoning. One or two, perhaps, but once you find yourself having to make up a list of the wronged it just becomes excessive. So . . . questions, comments, grievances? The offer to glass me still stands, incidentally. Fair is fair."
Talking, talking, talking. For one of the few times in his life, Marius felt the poverty of words -- or his words, at least. Watching Gabriel's carefully controlled lack of reactions made Marius acutely aware that what he really wanted to ask, but could not, was quite simple: What can I do to make you feel safe from me?
He lowered his hands, feeling the soft catch of the leather against the teeth in his palms as he did. What a question to ask of someone, when he didn't even feel safe from himself.
"I'm not sure that would help much." Gabriel said flatly, with a shrug. "It's not like hitting you really worked for me anyway. And I can't imagine what it would do now." He took another sip, mostly to buy time as he considered. "I dunno man. That shit sucked. Probably sucked for you as much as it sucked for the rest of us." He wasn't entirely convinced of that. "In some ways," he added, because that seems more apt.
"There's no Band-Aid. Shit takes time." Another shrug. "But at least we can talk about it," Gabriel added. "It's not like it'll bring the universe down." Was it in poor taste to joke about the almost apocalypse? Probably. He didn't care.
"You know, there is that. I did not, in fact, participate in the end of another reality. It was a low bar, but shall I accept this win? Yes." Marius shook his head. "Funny, that. The talking, the world . . . that's why I ended up where I did. I got sick, but all the people I knew could help me were here with all the associated baggage. Building a life outside of it took some doing; the prospect of dipping back in after so long did not entice. So I looked elsewhere. Shockingly, avoiding the most logical option based solely on personal discomfort did not go well." He glanced down at the hands folded lightly over his own forearms. "So, no. From now on I shall be engaging in communication. No space for another god awful chest tattoo, for one."
"Tattoo would probably be less painful." Gabriel set the glass down on the counter. "Ironic that you've ended up with more baggage, I guess."
Marius shrugged with an ease he did not feel. "De rigueur for me, I'm afraid. All the most regrettable incidents in my life seem to have come about because I didn't like the options before me. But then, my power is only reactive physical adaptation. I never claimed it to extend between the ears." He brushed his hands against his sides against the spectre of encroaching lint. Borrowed sweats truly were the most cursed of attire for tendering a sincere apology. He sighed. "Is there anything you need from me? Or rather, anything I can do for you? Don't be afraid to ask for money, incidentally. Some people take being asked for material compensation an affront to their honour. I assure you, honour and I barely nod to each other in the hall."
"Oh, is money an option?" Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Well. That's interesting." He turned back to the fridge, using his powers to quickly withdraw a navel orange, grab a knife, slice a wedge off and drop it in his drink, all while Marius stood there. "No," he said after what had been a good while for him, but only a moment for the other man. "I'm fine. We're good. I'll make awkward jokes, you'll get a little uncomfortable, and then inevitably, something more chaotic and damaging to one or both of us will happen here."
"Mate, I've had a pair of mouths in the palms of my hands since I was 16. No joke now exists that is so awkward as to make me uncomfortable." Marius noted the apparent jump in Gabriel's movements without comment. It was true that he did have something of a professional interest in exotic mutations, and he did admit to some lingering curiosity about Gabriel's. The other man had never given him a clear answer on way or another. But that information, like absolution, was not something he was owed.
"Anyway, I'll leave you to it, then," Marius said, turning for the door. "I appreciate the audience. May we both have minimally exciting interactions in the future."
Gabriel raised his glass again as he watched Marius depart. "From your lips to God's ears."
Next stop on the tour: Jubilee (with ample carbohydrates as offerings).
The serving cart veritably sagged beneath the array of food on offer. Espresso-rubbed steak bites. Three different types of loaded baked potatoes. An entire tub of barbeque spare ribs. Deep fried red velvet cheesecake drizzled with chocolate syrup. Somewhere in there, making an attempt to offer temporary respite from raw protein and pure carbohydrates, was a spinach salad sprinkled with strawberries, blueberries, walnuts and goat cheese. Its efforts were immediately offset by the adjacent box of fancy dark chocolates.
"For some I come with spirits," said Marius, "but for you I have acquired the gift of saturated fats."
“It’s almost as if you had something to apologise for,” Jubilee noted with a smile but she pulled the salad towards her first and started digging in with the supplied fork. “You can have some too, like, don’t make me eat all this alone.”
The words were somewhat distorted by her eating but she figured Marius could translate well enough, he’d lived with Kyle for at least some of his kidnappings.
"If you insist." The spare ribs were the most accessible, but it meant removing the gloves. Marius hesitated for a moment, then shrugged inwardly. Jubilee had all but unhinged her jaw in front of him. She wasn't precious.
"You are correct," Marius continued as he peeled off his gloves and tucked them into one pocket, "in addition to food I come with my sincere apologies. I am not unfamiliar with unpleasantly exhausting one's physical reserves."
Sounds of eating were all that met the apologies for a moment as Jubilee continued to work her way through the salad while also reaching over and plucking one of the types of loaded potato off its tray and chowing down on that too.
“It’s a bitch,” Jubilee admitted with a shrug as she gave him a once over. “Glad I didn’t kill you though.”
Marius plucked one of the ribs from the bucket and contemplated it for a moment. "Truthfully, if ever you find yourself in a similar situation I ask you not devote too much worry to that. It was hardly the first time I've needed someone to put me down. Comes a point where it's a bit ridiculous, you know?" He took a bite of the rib, the teeth in his mouth briefly coming within touching distance of the ones in his palms.
“Kid, if I’m ever unhappy that someone lived when maybe they could have died it’s probably time to put me down,” Jubilee noted as she took another loaded potato and swallowed it almost whole. She noted calling someone who was probably close to her age kid was odd at best but she couldn’t help it. He was…hurt shaped. She knew that hurt, and sometimes you needed, something that wasn’t judgement but maybe also something that wasn’t complete forgiveness either. “How you want this to go like? Cause I’m totes fine with being ‘You’re bad, don’t turn into Death again’, or I can be like ‘you owe me at least a fancy dinner at some place in New York’ if that’s better?”
"I come here as supplicant, and as such I have no demands one way or another." Marius grinned at her. "Besides, that's an unfair question. It is not within my power to reject the opportunity to wine and dine a beautiful woman who can, not coincidentally, liquify pavement if she so desires."
As with Terry, Marius found it was becoming easier to slip back into the old smiles, the old patter, like a stiff muscle being stretched. Easier to slip into, and easier to rely upon. It was so much simpler to deflect than confront.
“So, here’s how I figure we can do this, and like, both are gonna end with you taking me to dinner because like Nora brought me outfits and the world deserves to see that stuff, and you actually know which forks to use which is an up on some of the guys I let watch me eat,” Jubilee noted as she pulled in the steak bites and the mash potatoes and gravy she’d noted to the side. “Anyway, the first way is I let you get away with the whole ‘I’m a player, let me flirt so I don’t need to deal with being not okay’, which sometimes, totes valid and I’ve gone there multiple times. Or, you can totally be not okay, and I can like, not push for details and you can like, exist and eat with me and if you need a hug, or you wanna come up here and just exist beside me, I’m pretty good with that too.”
The Australian froze, just for an instant, and then looked up at her.
"And if I were to say I am both a player and, just perhaps, slightly less than okay?" he said after a moment. "We contain multitudes, after all."
“I’d tip my hat, as game recognizes game,” Jubilee noted with a sparkle of humor in her eyes and moved over as she tapped the space she’d made beside her in invitation. “And then I’d mention that being ‘not ok’ is normal and say sometimes things take time, and it’s okay to lean on people, especially if they’re offering to share food.”
There was another infinitesimal pause, as of some internal calculation being run. Accept the outstretched hand, pretend not to recognise it as such, or reject it outright: three possibilities, all equally viable. Not for the first time Marius was acutely aware of the help being offered so freely . . . if only he would accept it.
"I would be reluctant to lean on one who would currently collapse in a stiff breeze," Marius said at last, "although I would make note of the generous invitation for perhaps a later date. I will, however, accept an offer of a shared meal -- and provide you with another once you've recovered, so that you may indeed show the world your fabulous outfits. Although I confess I am now circling back to the 'guys I let watch me eat' comment with a certain sense of concerned intrigue."
Jubilee smiled wryly as she took a bite of potato and gravy and washed it down with a gulp of water. She recognized when someone had gone as far as they could go in one moment, and let it go.
“Oh my sweet summer child, let me regale you with the things I do to keep us all safe.”