028 x 820 // video // (becoming a) family day

[dignity_misery]

[Good morning, fair city. On this fine day the device has been given prime seating upon a nearby vanity table while the final dress-fitting of a long-planned wedding is underway. Carla seems a bit exasperated with the Vietnamese woman's chatter as she checks all the seams, doing last minute stitches and generally complaining that she only wishes she could be half so skinny. Carla is not a traditional bride, by far, and when she looks at the camera it's to wonder dryly,]

Do you think this skirt is large enough? Or should I add another several pounds worth of tulle underneath.

[The woman buttoning up her dress starts to answer and Carla turns to hold up her hand for silence.]

Don't answer that. [Her attention returns to the camera.] I assume Karl sent out invitations weeks ago. If he didn't, you're summarily invited. Bring gifts. That's the only reason anyone gets married anyway.

[Such a romantic at heart, this lady. Once she's been buttoned in, she steps back to get the full dress in shot. She gives it a critical eye, toying her hair up briefly before letting it fall back down around her shoulders.]

It'll do.

[If you're watching closely, you may catch only the barest hint of a smile.]



[[ooc; later will be a joint post by Karl for the wedding/party. You know you want to come o3o]]

Comments

[dignity_misery]

You could get one.

[Carla. Down girl.]

[mortemscintilla]

Um. Okay.

[ Let's pretend to be flustered. ]

...What kind of present would you like?

[dignity_misery]

I don't like jewelry.

[mortemscintilla]

[ Jewelry is impractical. Unless it can be sold. Or used to conceal chemicals and weapons. ]

I'll cook something, instead. That okay?

[ And gather intel/scope the guest-list at your wedding party

[dignity_misery]

[ Food? Food? Food? Food? ]

Are you a good cook?

[mortemscintilla]

[ Food. The only reason to stay alive ]

Um. I'm not bad. I can make you deep friend wontons. Crab rangoon. Beef in oyster sauce. That type of thing.

...I used to cook at home all the time.

[ Going out of his way to seem as dull and homely as possible. ]

[dignity_misery]

All of those things.

[Do it. Do it immediately.]

[mortemscintilla]

Okay. If you like.

[ He expects payment for his services. Contractors function via quid pro quo ]

[dignity_misery]

I do.

[ Wanna fuck, Hei? S'all you're getting. ]

[mortemscintilla]

I'll bring some to the wedding, then.

[ Sex is not a pragmatic form of payment. He only does business for intel and cash. ]

[dignity_misery]

[ Oldest form of trade around, boyo. ]

You'd better.

[mortemscintilla]

[ Not in the assassination business. Sex compromises and muddles simple assignments. ]

[ Plus he spent half his adolescence in a war-zone. Diseases traveled fast. Fucking was a non-priority. ]

I will.

[dignity_misery]

[ Sad story, bro. ]