[ Ready, with pin digits attached, looks like waiting for him a strip of black-pebbled beach, warmed by a day's sunshine. The light penetrates only the surface — beneath the windless ripples of lake water (dappled all in blues: Prussian, midnight, patches of turquoise where shallow) there is a bracing cold, waiting to put curious hands on swimmers caught unawares. But Roza knows this land, this water, this tender late-afternoon sky. Soon dark will spread broad wings over the horizon and blot out their closest star, leaving room only for the ones that watch from a distance.
Soon it will be nighttime, which is when the land starts to really get interesting. She hopes he gets to see that, too.
But for now there is only this: the long shape of Roza, brown skin contrasting against white underwear (she did not bring a swimsuit), stood like an imitation of an Olympic diver at the peak of one long dock, protruding out over the deepest part of the lake. She is barefoot and grinning, teeth showing. Her body moves back and forth from left to right, ballerina feet prepared for motion. Her blue Jeep is poorly parked between two spaces, tailgate slung open, where a bed of towels sit waiting.
When she sees him, she's going to scream and then jump. Or jump and then scream, depending on how cold that lake really is. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Please tell me
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Can't help you
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Of you and your ways.
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Never call me Mister Forty Winks again btw
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What about Naptime
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Something cool like uh
what was the sleep-guy's name? Sand something?
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Very catchy but also so light as to be easily made ominous if you wanted to do that
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you gonna call me Mr. Sandman next time I fall asleep?
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Do you think that would give you strange dreams?
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I don't remember my dreams
maybe I'll sleep really really well
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Now we're turning it into a working, your Mr. Sandman working
What would you like to dream about?
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I wanna dream about the ocean
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Do you want to be under it or above it?
A fish or a bird?
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[he is talking about strippers]
under. I wanna be a fish
you can decide what I'll be
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[ She does not know he is talking about strippers, but her point would stand. ]
OK I will reveal your true form to you shortly
I will put you at the top of the food chain. Except for orcas.
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[guy who knows nothing about orcas or wildlife except for what roza tells him:]
do I not scream orca to you?
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If I grow wings I will use them to encircle you. And you may touch my antennae.
But they're not fish!!
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Jesus there's an 'ae' after that? okay
Ugh mammals fine any sea creature but you're good at picking those too
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After you catch me in the water, speaking of touching
There you can decide.
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what will you be? Is there a butterfly of the water too?
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But I'm an orca too :-)
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okay
then I'll definitely catch you
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But as for catching me, I'll believe it when I see it
Or feel it. As the case is.
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you're challenging the wrong person
→ text/action.
OK OK we'll see. I'm ready.
[ Ready, with pin digits attached, looks like waiting for him a strip of black-pebbled beach, warmed by a day's sunshine. The light penetrates only the surface — beneath the windless ripples of lake water (dappled all in blues: Prussian, midnight, patches of turquoise where shallow) there is a bracing cold, waiting to put curious hands on swimmers caught unawares. But Roza knows this land, this water, this tender late-afternoon sky. Soon dark will spread broad wings over the horizon and blot out their closest star, leaving room only for the ones that watch from a distance.
Soon it will be nighttime, which is when the land starts to really get interesting. She hopes he gets to see that, too.
But for now there is only this: the long shape of Roza, brown skin contrasting against white underwear (she did not bring a swimsuit), stood like an imitation of an Olympic diver at the peak of one long dock, protruding out over the deepest part of the lake. She is barefoot and grinning, teeth showing. Her body moves back and forth from left to right, ballerina feet prepared for motion. Her blue Jeep is poorly parked between two spaces, tailgate slung open, where a bed of towels sit waiting.
When she sees him, she's going to scream and then jump. Or jump and then scream, depending on how cold that lake really is. ]
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