Duke Crocker (
betterthanaplan) wrote2021-02-14 12:55 pm
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Entry tags:
The Cape Rouge, Port of Fandom, Sunday evening
Duke wasn't usually one to put much stock into holidays like Valentine's Day. Last year's had very nearly been a disaster, for instance. But Octavia was clearly feeling a little extra in-the-dumps right now, and Lucifer had sent him an enormous, gorgeous, queer bouquet, and Duke felt inspired.
He spent the day setting it up. Went through his hold and pulled out all the plushest, richest fabrics he could find. Fuzzy blankets and brocade curtains and lots of soft Persian rugs. He draped his galley, transforming the usually cool, open space full of hard surfaces into something warm and exotic, like the interior of a Mongolian yurt. He lit the space with candles and oil lamps and paper lanterns, and set Lucifer's bouquet prominently on the coffee table. To eat, he had berries and chocolate and oysters rockefeller, with wine and absinthe and some other items to help them all relax and feel good. There were soft cushions everywhere (including the stuffed shark and sun and moon pillows from last year's pillow forts, with the inclusion of a little velvet star-shaped cushion he'd picked up on a whim), and even a few vintage furs.
It was, he felt, about as cozy and warm and romantic (and hopefully not too fish scented) as his boat was going to get. Now all he needed were his partners.
He sent Lucifer a text (come over, bring octavia), figuring Octavia wouldn't rouse easily on her own, then settled in to wait, and second guess every single choice he'd made in decorating, worrying it would come across as too much.
He distracted himself with his guitar to keep from trying to tear it all down again, and waited.
[for the guests!]
He spent the day setting it up. Went through his hold and pulled out all the plushest, richest fabrics he could find. Fuzzy blankets and brocade curtains and lots of soft Persian rugs. He draped his galley, transforming the usually cool, open space full of hard surfaces into something warm and exotic, like the interior of a Mongolian yurt. He lit the space with candles and oil lamps and paper lanterns, and set Lucifer's bouquet prominently on the coffee table. To eat, he had berries and chocolate and oysters rockefeller, with wine and absinthe and some other items to help them all relax and feel good. There were soft cushions everywhere (including the stuffed shark and sun and moon pillows from last year's pillow forts, with the inclusion of a little velvet star-shaped cushion he'd picked up on a whim), and even a few vintage furs.
It was, he felt, about as cozy and warm and romantic (and hopefully not too fish scented) as his boat was going to get. Now all he needed were his partners.
He sent Lucifer a text (come over, bring octavia), figuring Octavia wouldn't rouse easily on her own, then settled in to wait, and second guess every single choice he'd made in decorating, worrying it would come across as too much.
He distracted himself with his guitar to keep from trying to tear it all down again, and waited.
[for the guests!]
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He stopped by the Samsara first, to convince Octavia to come; they made their way to the Rouge together, Lucifer locking his arm through hers in some attempt to give her-- something-- to hold on to.
He stopped a step or so into the galley.
"Well," he said. "Someone's redecorated..."
It was gorgeous, in a shisha lounge sort of way. A good aesthetic.
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And when Lucifer had shown up, maybe she'd only agreed to come because it was something else to do than looping thoughts to decide how she felt about the actual roses that had shown up. The metal ones were easier to deal with.
She was tired. Looked it, too.
But her eyes still went a little wider when they entered the room.
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It was Lucifer; he couldn't help it.
He was smiling, though. "But I like it."
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Of course, her gaze had just now landed on the stuffed shark. So there was something squeezing her chest uncomfortably too, now.
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She might not have actually listened to what Duke had been saying. Sorry about that.
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"I have oysters! Fresh caught today. Drizzled in absinthe, a little panko. . . . And, uh. Plenty of berries. And chocolates. And the guitar and . . . I definitely over did it, didn't I."
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He crossed the rest of the distance to Duke, cupped his cheeks, and kissed them.
“Some molly might actually be good for her. Perk her up a bit.”
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Picked up a berry to eat.
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"That's what I'm hoping, yeah. Thanks for going to get her."
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Picked up a couple more berries, instead of trying something else.
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"I hope so," he said softly, still watching her. "Our last Valentine's was . . . not great."
What with him pounding a rock to gravel to avoid trying to kill her and all.
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He raised his voice. "Octavia," he said, "How would you feel about doing some drugs?"
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"Which ones?"
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"You're free to do whichever drugs you want."
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"Well, I think I'll go for the molly," he said, picking up the little baggy and holding it up. "And, uh. You can join in or not, as you like."
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He had a feeling this was mainly going to be his and Duke's party, tonight.
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Octavia shrugged again, even fainter this time, as she came to a stop. Hands sliding into the pocket at the front of her hoodie.
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He popped one of the pills in his mouth and passed the baggy to Lucifer. Then reached over to run his hand down her arm. "There anything you do want to do right now?"
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"We could just sit and eat for a bit."
He questioned the use of asking her open-ended questions, at the moment.
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