Taako (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spellslots) wrote2015-02-11 04:54 pm
spellslots) wrote2015-02-11 04:54 pm
Entry tags:
riverview; experience sharing
february twelve
It's late, it's loud, and it's a little hard to keep track of everything. The club is lit traditionally and therefore there's barely any light to see by, although that isn't much of an issue for Taako, except the flashing lights sort of mess with his eyes a little. Or maybe that's the alcohol.
Not that it really matters, they're here to party and that means booze and flashing lights and loud music, so they're really kind of winning this whole evening. The dance floor is the main draw for their little entourage, all of them at varying skills levels (Magnus is the worst, Lup is the best) but they're all having a lot of fun, laughing and bumping into each other and singing along when they know the words to whatever song is playing. The focus of the night is Cisco, judging by the way the rest of them are practically working as his hype crew. Taako dances with everyone pretty much equally, except for Lucretia (looking slightly out of place at fifty-ish, in a crowded night club) who earns a complicated twist of guilt and anger whenever she smiles at him. But he's-- he's not thinking about that, he's dancing and having fun and it's nice, spending time with his dumb friends.
At intervals, they retreat to the VIP section that Taako managed to score for them, because knowing event organisers has its perks, where they can top up their drinks and rest tired legs. In this moment, it's just Cisco and Taako who sprawl themselves on the softest looking couch, Cisco's head against Taako's shoulder.
"Taako, hey Taako, hey, Taako."
Taako's response is to hum something that could be a yes, maybe, if you squint. Words are boring when he's drunk and content.
"Tonight's been hella fun, thanks for getting us in here."
There's a sudden movement, Cisco's head dropping as Taako turns to face him properly, bringing his hands up to frame Cisco's face. He briefly gets distracted by squishing Cisco's cheeks together and giggling to himself, before remembering that he had some kind of point here.
"You're my fucking dude, bubbale. You're like-- you're the best, you know that right?" It's a genuine sentiment, because Taako is in that sweet spot of drunkenness where admitting that he cares about people isn't quite so terrifying. Cisco beams in response and there's a split second where Taako is just so unbearably fond, before he ruins the moment by leaning in as if he's going to kiss Cisco's cheek, only to blow a raspberry instead.
They both dissolve into laughter.
february fourteen: am
There's a vanity in Taako's room, but the mirror spends most of its life with something obscuring the surface, whether it's a scarf, a robe, sometimes even a spell, because Taako doesn't like catching his reflection unexpectedly when he isn't wearing his glamor, and he can't wear the glamor constantly.
His morning ritual isn't all that much of a ritual, considering the fact it changes almost daily to accommodate whatever the plans for the day are (unlike his nightly ritual, which stays fairly consistent), but it usually involves washing his face before getting stuck into the necessary combination of skincare and make up to fit his day. Today it's cleanser, toner, serum, an eye cream, and a general moisturizer, before he settles down at the vanity to do his make-up. The scarf that's currently hiding it is tucked to the side, leaving Taako alone with his reflection.
It had taken him a while to perfect this process but he'd eventually realized it works best if any make up goes on before the glamor does and since he's attending an event today, he needs at least some make up. Taako rarely bothers with things like foundation or concealer, since magic can handle all that, but he enjoys the process of accessorizing, as it were. Eyelashes are curled, then it's eyeliner and an entire eyeshadow look before he finishes it with a dark purple mascara that he's been super into lately. He sticks with a simple tinted balm for his lips, since this isn't the kind of event that requires a full look.
And then he makes a gesture in the air, pulling the glamor into place.
The changes are minor but there; his lips are a little fuller, eyes a little brighter, nose slightly less crooked, his cheekbones stand out more. Taako spends another few moments inspecting the final result, ensuring it all looks perfect, before he starts on the next important part of the day: picking an outfit.
february fourteen: pm
At night, once the others have gone to bed and the lights are turned off, the world turns to a soft grey even in the dark. It takes the edge off things, like a certain box filled with beautiful colored glass bottles, each of the labelled with carefully written instructions. In the dark, the spidery scrawl of Rin's handwriting is harder to make out, and that's easier. Taako trails his fingers idly along the row of bottles, letting his nails tap on the glass. There's something like regret in it, something wistful, and that only gets worse when his gaze flicks to the letter tucked away at the back of the box. His hand moves towards it for a split second before he catches himself and pulls away; he's read it what feels like a hundred times and all it does is hurt.
He turns away from the box as if he can run from the threatening emotions and leaves the room with that same focus, until he comes to a half-open door. He peers inside carefully, finding Lup sprawled amongst the covers, deep in a trance, and he can't bring himself to wake her up just because he doesn't want to be alone. Instead, he closes the door before returning to his room, where it feels like a great time to just let himself fall dramatically onto his messy bed. He's sad and he's lonely and those are two of his least favorite feelings, this whole thing fucking sucks. It's almost an automatic thing, the way he grabs a pillow to hold over his face, so he can mutter a quiet yet heartful fuck without waking anyone else in the house.
It's late, it's loud, and it's a little hard to keep track of everything. The club is lit traditionally and therefore there's barely any light to see by, although that isn't much of an issue for Taako, except the flashing lights sort of mess with his eyes a little. Or maybe that's the alcohol.
Not that it really matters, they're here to party and that means booze and flashing lights and loud music, so they're really kind of winning this whole evening. The dance floor is the main draw for their little entourage, all of them at varying skills levels (Magnus is the worst, Lup is the best) but they're all having a lot of fun, laughing and bumping into each other and singing along when they know the words to whatever song is playing. The focus of the night is Cisco, judging by the way the rest of them are practically working as his hype crew. Taako dances with everyone pretty much equally, except for Lucretia (looking slightly out of place at fifty-ish, in a crowded night club) who earns a complicated twist of guilt and anger whenever she smiles at him. But he's-- he's not thinking about that, he's dancing and having fun and it's nice, spending time with his dumb friends.
At intervals, they retreat to the VIP section that Taako managed to score for them, because knowing event organisers has its perks, where they can top up their drinks and rest tired legs. In this moment, it's just Cisco and Taako who sprawl themselves on the softest looking couch, Cisco's head against Taako's shoulder.
"Taako, hey Taako, hey, Taako."
Taako's response is to hum something that could be a yes, maybe, if you squint. Words are boring when he's drunk and content.
"Tonight's been hella fun, thanks for getting us in here."
There's a sudden movement, Cisco's head dropping as Taako turns to face him properly, bringing his hands up to frame Cisco's face. He briefly gets distracted by squishing Cisco's cheeks together and giggling to himself, before remembering that he had some kind of point here.
"You're my fucking dude, bubbale. You're like-- you're the best, you know that right?" It's a genuine sentiment, because Taako is in that sweet spot of drunkenness where admitting that he cares about people isn't quite so terrifying. Cisco beams in response and there's a split second where Taako is just so unbearably fond, before he ruins the moment by leaning in as if he's going to kiss Cisco's cheek, only to blow a raspberry instead.
They both dissolve into laughter.
february fourteen: am
There's a vanity in Taako's room, but the mirror spends most of its life with something obscuring the surface, whether it's a scarf, a robe, sometimes even a spell, because Taako doesn't like catching his reflection unexpectedly when he isn't wearing his glamor, and he can't wear the glamor constantly.
His morning ritual isn't all that much of a ritual, considering the fact it changes almost daily to accommodate whatever the plans for the day are (unlike his nightly ritual, which stays fairly consistent), but it usually involves washing his face before getting stuck into the necessary combination of skincare and make up to fit his day. Today it's cleanser, toner, serum, an eye cream, and a general moisturizer, before he settles down at the vanity to do his make-up. The scarf that's currently hiding it is tucked to the side, leaving Taako alone with his reflection.
It had taken him a while to perfect this process but he'd eventually realized it works best if any make up goes on before the glamor does and since he's attending an event today, he needs at least some make up. Taako rarely bothers with things like foundation or concealer, since magic can handle all that, but he enjoys the process of accessorizing, as it were. Eyelashes are curled, then it's eyeliner and an entire eyeshadow look before he finishes it with a dark purple mascara that he's been super into lately. He sticks with a simple tinted balm for his lips, since this isn't the kind of event that requires a full look.
And then he makes a gesture in the air, pulling the glamor into place.
The changes are minor but there; his lips are a little fuller, eyes a little brighter, nose slightly less crooked, his cheekbones stand out more. Taako spends another few moments inspecting the final result, ensuring it all looks perfect, before he starts on the next important part of the day: picking an outfit.
february fourteen: pm
At night, once the others have gone to bed and the lights are turned off, the world turns to a soft grey even in the dark. It takes the edge off things, like a certain box filled with beautiful colored glass bottles, each of the labelled with carefully written instructions. In the dark, the spidery scrawl of Rin's handwriting is harder to make out, and that's easier. Taako trails his fingers idly along the row of bottles, letting his nails tap on the glass. There's something like regret in it, something wistful, and that only gets worse when his gaze flicks to the letter tucked away at the back of the box. His hand moves towards it for a split second before he catches himself and pulls away; he's read it what feels like a hundred times and all it does is hurt.
He turns away from the box as if he can run from the threatening emotions and leaves the room with that same focus, until he comes to a half-open door. He peers inside carefully, finding Lup sprawled amongst the covers, deep in a trance, and he can't bring himself to wake her up just because he doesn't want to be alone. Instead, he closes the door before returning to his room, where it feels like a great time to just let himself fall dramatically onto his messy bed. He's sad and he's lonely and those are two of his least favorite feelings, this whole thing fucking sucks. It's almost an automatic thing, the way he grabs a pillow to hold over his face, so he can mutter a quiet yet heartful fuck without waking anyone else in the house.