Emet-Selch (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
amaure) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
victory_road2020-08-22 11:32 pm
amaure) wrote in victory_road2020-08-22 11:32 pm
Entry tags:
No Romo (closed)
Who: Dirk Strider and Emet-Selch
Where: Goldenrod, at an upscale restaurant, then maybe around the town, who knows
When: August 23rd
Summary: The boyfriends going on a not!date. Shenanigans.
Rating: PG-ish. Dirk's got a potty mouth, but it's also them, so I'll update as needs be.
It's been a week since Emet-Selch's unfortunate nap that allowed him to live our the imminent disappointment that he was otherwise spared upon his arrival to this laughably absurd world. Fortunately, he isn't one to stay idle for long in his despair, despite how much he might otherwise wish he could. So, instead, while he has indeed placed energies in brainstorming what this world means, and what the transplants here might be, he has also decided his energies would be better spent on someone more deserving of them.
Particularly his ever loyal lover that saw fit to remain at his side, exhausted with worry and sleeplessness. Surely, he showed his appreciation for it, but he is not a man to only dote in direct exchange. Nay, he ever enjoys continued intimacy and attention, and all of that aside, he figures it only right to indulge for the two of them.
As such, he's brought Dirk along to a rather extravagant Japanese restaurant, though he'd name it Hingan in style. It is all roughly equivalent, and even then this world names it more Johtonian. Regardless of distinction, he has more than caught on to Dirk's general affection towards the style, and so it is with that in mind that he has picked their place of dining. So too has he been mindful of Dirk's preference for the more private, and so they'll find themselves being seated at a private room.
Emet has dressed himself in far less flashy attire, decidedly masculine in style. Another decision made for Dirk's benefit. No one can claim he is not thoughtful, nor charitable! As he takes his seat, he offers Dirk a warm smile—a genuine one. One that has not truly graced his features in a few days as he's left himself tired and stressed overthinking everything that his 'update' of sorts has given him. But this isn't about that, this is about them.
A small fraction of time to themselves, away from work, away from the stresses of their continued existence outside of each other's company, away from everyone else...
"I do so hope this will appeal to your tastes, after all, you do seem to favor that of Hingan persuasion, and I find myself of a similar fancy." He doesn't comment on how Dirk looks arguably Hingan—or perhaps Doman—himself. It matters little, and he knows the distinction is different between worlds. Idly, he wonders what his own features translates to Dirk, perhaps he looks...Greek, was it? An entertaining if admittedly a pointless train of thought.
Where: Goldenrod, at an upscale restaurant, then maybe around the town, who knows
When: August 23rd
Summary: The boyfriends going on a not!date. Shenanigans.
Rating: PG-ish. Dirk's got a potty mouth, but it's also them, so I'll update as needs be.
It's been a week since Emet-Selch's unfortunate nap that allowed him to live our the imminent disappointment that he was otherwise spared upon his arrival to this laughably absurd world. Fortunately, he isn't one to stay idle for long in his despair, despite how much he might otherwise wish he could. So, instead, while he has indeed placed energies in brainstorming what this world means, and what the transplants here might be, he has also decided his energies would be better spent on someone more deserving of them.
Particularly his ever loyal lover that saw fit to remain at his side, exhausted with worry and sleeplessness. Surely, he showed his appreciation for it, but he is not a man to only dote in direct exchange. Nay, he ever enjoys continued intimacy and attention, and all of that aside, he figures it only right to indulge for the two of them.
As such, he's brought Dirk along to a rather extravagant Japanese restaurant, though he'd name it Hingan in style. It is all roughly equivalent, and even then this world names it more Johtonian. Regardless of distinction, he has more than caught on to Dirk's general affection towards the style, and so it is with that in mind that he has picked their place of dining. So too has he been mindful of Dirk's preference for the more private, and so they'll find themselves being seated at a private room.
Emet has dressed himself in far less flashy attire, decidedly masculine in style. Another decision made for Dirk's benefit. No one can claim he is not thoughtful, nor charitable! As he takes his seat, he offers Dirk a warm smile—a genuine one. One that has not truly graced his features in a few days as he's left himself tired and stressed overthinking everything that his 'update' of sorts has given him. But this isn't about that, this is about them.
A small fraction of time to themselves, away from work, away from the stresses of their continued existence outside of each other's company, away from everyone else...
"I do so hope this will appeal to your tastes, after all, you do seem to favor that of Hingan persuasion, and I find myself of a similar fancy." He doesn't comment on how Dirk looks arguably Hingan—or perhaps Doman—himself. It matters little, and he knows the distinction is different between worlds. Idly, he wonders what his own features translates to Dirk, perhaps he looks...Greek, was it? An entertaining if admittedly a pointless train of thought.
no subject
"....what if we order food and then resume this one. Or we can talk about anime, I didn't actually get to that. We got sidetracked onto pota--popatoes."
no subject
Perhaps they can speak about this matter another time, or at least later. He's fine to drop it for now. At least he doesn't seem bothered by the lack of an answer, or Dirk's dodging of topics, though he cannot help but smirk at Dirk's attempt to say popotoes. Not that he'll correct it.
Just as he's about to take a drink of his tea, he hears the waiter at the door. Perfect timing, really. Trusting that Dirk has indeed figured out his order, he will give his own first still—affording him a little more time in case he has any second thoughts. Naturally he goes for the course comprised of the red meat that Dirk abhors. Such a pity he doesn't enjoy such, but to each their own.
After all, it isn't like Hades much enjoys the eggs in a blender breakfast that Dirk does. Everyone has their quirks.
Gets distracted by mid 2000s furry techno
Theoretically, he's aware that the whole ordeal of ordering anything is entirely in his head; concretely, he's aware that his order being completely normal and Emet taking notice are two conditions that can coexist.
He doesn't really care what the waiter thinks.
Once menus are handed back and the waiter is gone, he waits a beat--just one--before speaking again.
"So, what'll it be?" Topic-wise, not food-wise. He just heard Emet order his food. He doesn't need a recap.