((blocked people do not have access to mailrooms, just sayin))

Romp

hmmmm...

Best is boat.
Least is plane - too much hanging around in long queues!

Main House
Holly attempted a smile as well, but in the very opposite. Her eyes wanted to, but her lips couldn't quite join in like they were anchored down, the last line of defense against the confession that wanted to march forth.

"Oh shit yeah? You see that TikTok of that 2K creator whose girlfriend deleted all his shit as a 'prank'?"

Her roundabout path deeper into the greatroom followed the curve around a stand and a vase, the flowers therein on the slightest bit of motion from the Atlantic breeze.

Dropping herself into a seat. "Oh yeah, you have that raw honey or whatever to put into some hot water? Just trying to keep my voice in good condition…"

…and she was sincerely surprised you were the one to open the topic of the rehearsal today, which came with the mercy of you being set to some task, rather than interrogating her expression.

Holly, sat off by the couch and facing away, enjoyed the freedom to just stare into space and adjust her posture off-skew as was normal for her, to gradually slide diagonally across the backrest until she rested a shoulder against the armrest and one of her legs wound up across the cushions.

"…uh… I mean… we're just doing some touches. They had an idea to toy around, experiment with that one scene that you saw so we were seeing if we had something to explore, there…"

Her phone, unsurprisingly, was already in her hand as she took a measure of social media engagement on the predictable platforms promoting the thing. It didn't matter, though, if twenty thousand people liked the post — almost none of those likes were sincere patrons of stageplays.

Promotion pictures that were hacked together for free by one of the staff on board for the play, so nobody could comment. "Yo are you rolling a J? Mmmm which one?"

Watching the road

Sits waiting

YAN

Yoda's Aching Nuts

After a bath, always a tense exchange,
that was part fight, part begging and part acquiescence,
the ordeal was over, leaving both exhausted and
while Freya was wet, Walter was now
damp and drying wrapped cocoon-like in a soft towel.
He was fragrant with organic herbal shampoo
and looked close to his normal self, but looked
thinner to her anxious eye and he had lost his
leather collar.
He was spoiled cat, and to her private opinion
not that good at surviving on his own despite his
uncanny ability to kill birds and mice.
He didn't eat his kill, only bringing them
to her as a gruesome present.

Since he was bound like a burrito, she took the
opportunity to kiss his nose and nuzzle him. His
brilliant blue eyes closed and opened slowly to gaze at her.
His deep purr vibrating his blanket. Her heart squeezed with love.

Heaving a sigh, she took him into the living room and
sat on the couch with him in her lap, starting to
worry now because of this passivity. Maybe he was sick
...he wasn't acting as if he were starving.
She sat stroking him softly, hardly believing that he
was back with her again and wondering what had happened.

*peeks in again*

Walks up and down

Waits

Reading

S

Stiff

as per in here

Steps in

After a bath, always a tense exchange,
that was part fight, part begging and part acquiescence,
the ordeal was over, leaving both exhausted and
while Freya was wet, Walter was now
damp and drying wrapped cocoon-like in a soft towel.

He was fragrant with organic herbal shampoo
and looked close to his normal self, but looked
thinner to her anxious eye and he had lost his
leather collar.
He was spoiled cat, and to her private opinion
not that good at surviving on
his own despite his uncanny ability to kill birds
and mice. He didn't eat his kill, only bringing them
to her as a gruesome present.

Since he was bound like a burrito, she took the
opportunity to kiss his nose and nuzzle him. His
brilliant blue eyes closed and opened slowly to gaze at her.
His deep purr vibrating his
Heaving a sigh, she took him into the living room and
sat on the couch with him in her lap, starting to
worry now because of this passivity. Maybe he was sick
...he wasn't acting as if he were starving.
She sat stroking him softly, hardly believing that he
was back with her again and wondering what had happened.

Main House
"DEA make a habit of using the front door and calling out your name? Shit, you mean I put in that gator moat under the trapdoor on the back walkway for nothin'?"

Holly started a walking disassembly, as was her habit when she got home from rehearsals over the past week, like whatever the opposite of Iron Man was, right? Shoes first, disavail herself of her belongings, the entire slow walk from the foyer into halfway through the greatroom helped un-pin the most bothersome clips and tethers and trappings that IRL-filtered her in public.

And with each little removal, she reclaimed a bit of lung, relaxed a tiny bit of her posture, unburdened a bit of weighty metal from her person, into various memorable pitches of these items landing in a glazed clay tray that Molly made back in school that she stole from home and brought here. Some other lacquered wood box that she got as a gift sometime before. That Hermès bag pendant bracelet. Keys. All a different rattle of item in its place.

"You, uh…" Mercy. Like you extended your hand and offered to carry the initial burden of awkwardness, to be the first to act out in a more apparent manner. "Errthing alright?"

The media center was off, you were just shuffling from one end of the house to the other? Holly was so tangled up in her personal disentanglement that when she glanced back at you, she could only guess that you were headed to the cabinet. Eyes across that way, regardless, to make that connection.

"…you sleepin' alright?"

*crossing the room to my sofa*

Looking down street