sup, saucy ginger?
Who: Desmond and Shirley!
When: Uh. Tonight. Ish.
Where: His place in the newbie rentals!
Format: Action!
What: Date night, oho. Des is happy he ended up with someone he really very much likes, lmf.
Warnings: None? Maybe some language. TBA I suppose?
[There wasn't much more he could really do to the place to make it presentable. He'd cleaned, so dammit, there was that. Beyond some minor changes (like actual curtains) to make the cramped apartment (read as "cozy") a tad more female-friendly, he hadn't done a whole lot aside from slaaaaaave (not really) over a hot oven to make her something decent.
Chicken something, noodle something, wine.
That last bit was the most relevant, truly. He wasn't looking to get the woman blitzed, mind you, but if she was as stressed about the whole deal as he was, she might need it. It was one thing to go on a date with a lady you genuinely liked, but it was a whole other, significantly weirder thing to be forced into it.
Sitting at a small table adorned in white linen and rather craptastic candles, our escapee from the Animus sits, pensive, staring at a door he's intentionally left ajar.]
When: Uh. Tonight. Ish.
Where: His place in the newbie rentals!
Format: Action!
What: Date night, oho. Des is happy he ended up with someone he really very much likes, lmf.
Warnings: None? Maybe some language. TBA I suppose?
[There wasn't much more he could really do to the place to make it presentable. He'd cleaned, so dammit, there was that. Beyond some minor changes (like actual curtains) to make the cramped apartment (read as "cozy") a tad more female-friendly, he hadn't done a whole lot aside from slaaaaaave (not really) over a hot oven to make her something decent.
Chicken something, noodle something, wine.
That last bit was the most relevant, truly. He wasn't looking to get the woman blitzed, mind you, but if she was as stressed about the whole deal as he was, she might need it. It was one thing to go on a date with a lady you genuinely liked, but it was a whole other, significantly weirder thing to be forced into it.
Sitting at a small table adorned in white linen and rather craptastic candles, our escapee from the Animus sits, pensive, staring at a door he's intentionally left ajar.]