IC INBOX for FADE RIFT

[slipshot]

 

Gavin has a little box stuffed full of notes. Feel free to stuff one in there, if you like, or come say hi.

 

The notes may just be all doodles. 

just saying.

 

Comments

[dreadinquisitor]

"Or you should," Maxwell replied without missing a beat. "I can't tell the stories the way you do."

Or even had the stories, really. Whether they were true or not, Gavin made them real.

"I'd just open a tab at the Herald's Rest and be done with it, but I've seen how some people drink," Maxwell laughed lightly.

[slipshot]

"You'd be paying it off for years," He agreed, wrapping an arm around Maxwell's waist.

"Mm, I guess we should think on it for a while. I can ask around, maybe. We should be throwing you the party, after all."

[dreadinquisitor]

"Long after the Inquisition was gone, here I'd still be - washing dishes to pay my debt," he chuckled, unresistant as Gavin wound about him, even turning into the embrace and nuzzling against the elf's collarbone. "All pruned for my trouble. The horror."

[slipshot]

Gavin chuckled, tilting his head to be able to smell Maxwell's hair. Look, it smelled good, okay?

"Definitely throwing you the party, then. I am not sure it would be easy to sleep with a prune..."

[dreadinquisitor]

There was a deep laugh, and then another playful nip.

"And in thirty years when I'm a prune anyway?"

[slipshot]

"Then I will be a prune, and our wrinkles will fit together nicely," He teased back, squeezing his side.

He wet his lips and the smile grew.

"Stop worrying about wrinkles and give me a kiss."

[dreadinquisitor]

His head lifted, smiling warmly down at Gavin. His eyes glinting happily as he reached with one hand to gently touch his cheek.

"Good."

Finger sliding up into the copper silk of Gavin's hair, he leaned to touch his lips to the elf's. Light, almost chaste, playful, before melting into the heat of it.

Absolutely perfect.