thieving: (lxxiv)
( your better half ) peter nureyev. ([personal profile] thieving) wrote in [community profile] calimport 2017-07-26 03:13 am (UTC)

screams about it????

[ the conversation is a lot like pulling teeth, and while peter is not above getting a little less than gentlemanly over the comms unit, it's not something he wants to do here in this moment, so he avoids it, dances around it, wings flicking irritatedly with each passing moment. he keeps the video feed decidedly off, but makes his voice all the more honeyed to make up for it, sickly sweet, chin in his hand and feathers twitching being the only slight giveaway as to his irritation ultimately. it is... long, but fruitful, this conversation. he supposes that it could have certainly gone worse.

juno is looking for a shipment ledger, one dated in particular for two weeks ago and to wrest it from his client's grasp is proving to be a herculean feat. he's old-timey, likes to keep them in big, thick, leather bound things under lock and key so it isn't even as though juno could have his assistant hack into the systems while he distracts his client. they'll have to be stolen. but to be stolen, he has to figure out precisely where they are, and it's not information the man gives freely. so he picks. needles. he tugs softly and sweetly. he croons, whines a little bit in a way that makes the man bend a little, soft gold between the teeth.

at least now he has a much better idea of where he keeps these great stacks of books and numbers, shipments and inventories. he could have them by the week's end, sooner if he wanted to be more reckless about it, but a week is the sweet spot, just enough time.

but for now he's damn near sick from it. he's made himself ill, disliking the taste of "aria" on his tongue and pleased to shake the remnants of him in the other room as the panel separating him and juno opens. ]


Well enough, I can have-- [ peter begins softly, taking a few steps into the room and letting the door shut behind him. he's pulling his glasses up from the pocket of his shirt as he speaks, noticing immediately that juno is half-frozen in an awkward posture, wings half-lifted, fingers busy with some little, slender, black-blue object that peter knows all too well even at a distance. ] --his ledger by week's end, sooner if you really want to rush things.

[ he's drawing up close to him, touching the frames of his glasses and leaning closer. juno looks

incredibly ruffled. more so than usual.

he can't say it's never been a bad look on him, the russet feathers and textured look to him already enough to gain peter's attentions quite thoroughly. peter watches the last of one of his feathers flutter precariously, caught up between two of juno's thicker flight feathers, lighter, dulled significantly from time. he reaches over and pulls at the feather from between juno's fingers, their touches glancing off one another for one warm moment, and holding it up to the dim light with a wry, little smile curving over his lips. he presses further into his space, wings spreading just a little bit, curling over, brushing. ]


I didn't keep you waiting too long did I?

[ he takes the feather and taps it with finality against the rise of juno's cheek bone, head tipping curiously. ]

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