[ Abel didn’t need any outside influences to be moody upon his arrival, disoriented and a little afraid, with a recent hurt keeping his heart heavy. Since settling in and drying off a little, he’s taken to sitting in the sand with his arms wrapped around his knees and gaze off into the horizon, determined to brood until the end of days, or at least until hunger pangs force him to move.
This leaves him susceptible to the little guys crawling all over, which he is paying no mind to because he doesn’t understand the importance of their newness or of the credits they could earn him. Attention elsewhere, one walks straight up to him and gives Abel a sharp pinch on the soft spot on the underside of his arm. He yelps, scrambling backwards and up onto his feet, looking for the offensive pincher. ]
Seriously. A crab?
[ When he sees the one that came at him, he scoops it up along with a handful of the sand beneath it, and nearly takes the steps forward to drop it back into the water as if that were any kind of inconvenience for a crab. Instead, his attention is caught by someone with a bucket nearby, and Abel smiles, mood lifting as if he’s seeing a long lost friend instead of a total stranger. He heads over, balancing the crab in his hands, and holds it out in offering. ]
I caught one for you.
— ii. dicks galore
[ It would be a lie to say that a dick party hasn’t been part of Abel’s wildest dreams, but he never imagined it quite in this form. He donned the provided toga, lacking much else to wear anyhow, though the bright pattern of yellow and green starbursts on grey are leaving him looking a bit washed out compared to his usual pale attire.
All the better to see the flush that has donned his cheeks since the very moment he’d arrived to the festival, making his way through with a look of interest in just about everything.
He’s managed to find a stall that’s got non-crab foods, once he asked one of the robots for something that wasn’t meat. The carved green vegetable before him is as obscene as everything else around here, but at least Abel can eat it. The catch, he’s told by the robot, is that he isn’t allowed to make his selection with his hands. He glances side to side to make sure no one is watching, and leans forward to put the head of the treat into his mouth. It takes a harder suck to dislodge the stick keeping it on display than he’d expected, but when he pulls victorious he is plus one (1) edible food, and realises that apparently also has caught someones eye. ]
Oh, damn it.
[ Hope you had fun watching him deepthroat a zucchini. He’s going to cover his face with the hand not holding onto his prize. ]
Please lie and tell me you didn’t see that.
— iii. hotfoot
[ Carried along by tides of the festival, Abel made his way to the beach with many others. One drink in, having enjoyed the fruity taste more than the alcohol itself, he makes his way to the fire. He’s never been one for letting loose, often accused of being uptight, but he finds himself rocking to the music, and tempted to do more. It seems a bit silly for him to break out into a dance by himself, can’t quite get into it, so he does the next logical thing: he looks around for a partner. Going up to someone who looks open to it, or maybe picking out someone who looks sour enough that they might need cheering up, he puts himself close enough to be heard above the noise. ]
Hey. [ He nearly doesn't find the momentum to keep talking from there, hesitating but overcoming it quickly enough. ] Umm. So. ... Do you wanna dance? With me, I mean.
[ Totally nailed it. ]
(ooc; Hella open to tagging from all but Abel is 18+ m/m so those are the only smutty courses of action I will be taking at this time. Ty! )
Abel || Starfighter
[ Abel didn’t need any outside influences to be moody upon his arrival, disoriented and a little afraid, with a recent hurt keeping his heart heavy. Since settling in and drying off a little, he’s taken to sitting in the sand with his arms wrapped around his knees and gaze off into the horizon, determined to brood until the end of days, or at least until hunger pangs force him to move.
This leaves him susceptible to the little guys crawling all over, which he is paying no mind to because he doesn’t understand the importance of their newness or of the credits they could earn him. Attention elsewhere, one walks straight up to him and gives Abel a sharp pinch on the soft spot on the underside of his arm. He yelps, scrambling backwards and up onto his feet, looking for the offensive pincher. ]
Seriously. A crab?
[ When he sees the one that came at him, he scoops it up along with a handful of the sand beneath it, and nearly takes the steps forward to drop it back into the water as if that were any kind of inconvenience for a crab. Instead, his attention is caught by someone with a bucket nearby, and Abel smiles, mood lifting as if he’s seeing a long lost friend instead of a total stranger. He heads over, balancing the crab in his hands, and holds it out in offering. ]
I caught one for you.
— ii. dicks galore
[ It would be a lie to say that a dick party hasn’t been part of Abel’s wildest dreams, but he never imagined it quite in this form. He donned the provided toga, lacking much else to wear anyhow, though the bright pattern of yellow and green starbursts on grey are leaving him looking a bit washed out compared to his usual pale attire.
All the better to see the flush that has donned his cheeks since the very moment he’d arrived to the festival, making his way through with a look of interest in just about everything.
He’s managed to find a stall that’s got non-crab foods, once he asked one of the robots for something that wasn’t meat. The carved green vegetable before him is as obscene as everything else around here, but at least Abel can eat it. The catch, he’s told by the robot, is that he isn’t allowed to make his selection with his hands. He glances side to side to make sure no one is watching, and leans forward to put the head of the treat into his mouth. It takes a harder suck to dislodge the stick keeping it on display than he’d expected, but when he pulls victorious he is plus one (1) edible food, and realises that apparently also has caught someones eye. ]
Oh, damn it.
[ Hope you had fun watching him deepthroat a zucchini. He’s going to cover his face with the hand not holding onto his prize. ]
Please lie and tell me you didn’t see that.
— iii. hotfoot
[ Carried along by tides of the festival, Abel made his way to the beach with many others. One drink in, having enjoyed the fruity taste more than the alcohol itself, he makes his way to the fire. He’s never been one for letting loose, often accused of being uptight, but he finds himself rocking to the music, and tempted to do more. It seems a bit silly for him to break out into a dance by himself, can’t quite get into it, so he does the next logical thing: he looks around for a partner. Going up to someone who looks open to it, or maybe picking out someone who looks sour enough that they might need cheering up, he puts himself close enough to be heard above the noise. ]
Hey. [ He nearly doesn't find the momentum to keep talking from there, hesitating but overcoming it quickly enough. ] Umm. So. ... Do you wanna dance? With me, I mean.
[ Totally nailed it. ]
(ooc; Hella open to tagging from all but Abel is 18+ m/m so those are the only smutty courses of action I will be taking at this time. Ty! )