chicome. this is not funny.

[leadsthestars]

[Video: Good afternoon, Barge! There's one pissed-off Goddess staring at you all. She looks like she might have just spent the last hour or so trying to kill someone without success.]

Every time I leave him... [Camera pans and there's a brief glimpse of a sulking Time Lord.] Every time I walk away, I fall to the floor. I am pulled to the floor.

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[thegooddrjones]

Coyo, are you alright?

[Spam]

[some_go_mad]

[He'll reply in the same, fluent and easy.]

I have a healthy self-image.

[Smarming back in to try to look at her communicator again. He wants to see who she's been talking to~]

[Spam]

[leadsthestars]

Uh huh. Healthy.

[Coyolxauhqui's hand goes up to keep him back.]

Stay away. I don't want you breathing down my neck!

[Spam]

[some_go_mad]

No?

[He's going to try to get in closer, circling around her. He's playing, right now-flirting, but not completely predatory.]

Ma in tlachichina quetzaltototl ma in tlachichina in zaquan quecholan.

['The quetzal breathes honey, the golden flamingo breathes honey.']

[Spam]

[leadsthestars]

[And she's going to try and keep him away from her, or at least keep her back to him. Or she tries anyway, but then he starts in with the poetry.]

Where did you learn that?

[Her brow. It is raised.]

[Spam]

[some_go_mad]

From the source.

[He's grinning, now. Like the Doctor, he enjoys surprising people with knowledge-even if he uses the surprise for less noble ends.]

Tel ca chalchihuitl no xamani, no teocuitlatl in tlapani, no quetzalli poztequi. Anochipa tlalticpac zan achica ye nican.

['Even jades fracture, even gold ruptures, even quetzal plumes tear. Not forever on earth, only a brief time here.']

[Spam]

[leadsthestars]

[She sighs a little. She's a goddess who enjoys her pretty words.]

I have not heard those words in a very, very long time...

[She turns around and glares.]

What do you want from me?

[Spam]

[some_go_mad]

[When he's not being a whiny six-year-old, he can be good with pretty words.]

[He's not going to answer, directly. He's going to try to slide in up against her, touching her.]

Ay ca nichocaya nicuicanitl ya icha ahuicaloyan cuicatl ha Mictlan temohuiloya yectliya xochitl onca ya oncaa y yao ohuayan ca ya ilaca tziuhan ca na y yo.

['I the poet cry out a song for a place of joy, a glorious song which descends to Mictlan, and there turns about and comes forth again.']

[And then he's going to sneeze. Explosively.]

((Time Lord sniffles, go!))

[Spam]

[leadsthestars]

[She's almost drawn in by his little poetry act. Her head lolls back and her eyes close, and there's a peaceful smile on her face.

She doesn't try to move away when he brings himself closer --

But then he sneezes. That's....not sexy. She stands tall once more and looks at him in bewilderment.]

I think you might have lost some brain matter.

[Spam] Oddly enough, I have no sneezing icons

[some_go_mad]

[He sneezes again, hard, as she stands away from him-and then blinks for a moment, as his nose wrinkles in that shit-I'm-about-to-sneeze-again-am-I-I-can't-tell way.]

[Yep, he is going to sneeze again. And does.]

What-

[Annnnd another sneeze.]

[Spam] I can't imagine why.

[leadsthestars]

[Coyolxauhqui backs away from him slowly.

She starts looking for a tissue of some sort. Because that's gross. And offending her overly-hygienic, Aztec sensibilities.]

[Spam] Sneeze more for the camera, Simm.

[some_go_mad]

[If she feels like tossing him, say, his t-shirt, it's right over there on the weight bench where he left it.]

[Meanwhile, he'll wipe his face with his upper arm, and then grimace, disgusted. Ick. Eating people is one thing. Snot is another. Yuck. He wants it off of his arm. :|]

What did you-[and he has to stop, to fight sneezing again]-do?

[Because this has to be someone's fault.]

[Spam] fans just keep getting weirder. : /

[leadsthestars]

Me? It is not me.

[She's offended enough to throw a barbell at him instead of his shirt. Fortunately for him, at the moment she hates dirt and grime more than she hates stupid questions.]

You could have given this to me.

[She throws him his shirt and tries to edge as far away as she can from him without getting stuck to the floor. She doesn't even want to look at him.]

[Spam] You'd think they'd reach a limit. But, nooo. Fans. The *madness.*

[some_go_mad]

[He catches the shirt and wipes his face and arm, before tossing the shirt to the ground and kicking it to the side, making a face at it. See if he wears that again.]

I can't give you anything. You're-[huh. He hasn't really figured this one out]-what species are you? Bloodthirsty myth isn't a race.

[The sneezing seems to have stopped for the moment. He rubs his index finger and thumb down his nose and frowns. He feels a little warm, now that he thinks about it. He can't be running a fever.]

[Spam] clearly there is never a limit with fans.

[leadsthestars]

[She bristles at his insults. She doesn't feel sorry for him at all. Nope. She hopes he sneezes his brains out.]

Aztecatl. Mexica Tenochca. Colhua-Mexica. [He finally gets a glare.] A Goddess of the stars. Respect me and I may respect you...perhaps I might even give you sympathy for feeling ill, instead of wanting to laugh.

[Spam] If I had them, I would probably find them terrifying, I'll admit.

[some_go_mad]

[...He hopes that can't happen. Do not let the Barge hear you, Coyolxauhqui. His brain is doing just fine in his head.]

Your lineage, Star Lady, isn't your species, as proud as you may be of it.

[He crosses his arms, rubbing his hands up and down his upper arms, chafing them. The can't-possibly-be-a-fever is making him feel suddenly cold, standing in the gym shirtless. He's going to start wandering off, assuming stupidly that she'll follow. He wants some snot-free clothing.]