11/11/2017
Saila's Apartment

After a vague and cryptic back and forth of texts to ensure Saila was actually home, Hex had relayed to Shep that it was time. Time for what? A master plan, of course.

Shep came with a disguise - one he claimed to be absolute genius --and Hex couldn't bring himself to break the man's heart by telling him that it wasn't. The biker had set aside his kutte and denim, exchanging them out for beige shorts, a button up short sleeved shirt, boots and a hat. The crowning jewel for the disguise? Sunglasses, as if the beard wasn't distinguishable, but his eyes would surely give it away. Of course, he knew better... but he hoped Saila would at least get a kick out of his efforts!

It had taken some planning, and creativity to get the trolley and the massive shiny and glittery silver wrapped box with an overly large purple bow slapped on top up the stairs to the second floor, but after swiping some sweat from his brow, Shep set his clipboard and realistically fake delivery form on top of the box. He relinquished a grunt as he wiggled the trolley's flat scoop beneath the box and eased it back so it could be wheeled toward Saila's door. "Think this box could use a diet," he grunted, smirking as he heard the thump from the inside of the box in response. Chuckling deeply, the biker whistled an almost jolly tune as he wheeled the box closer, maneuvering it sideways with some shimmying and wiggling once they got across the narrow platform.

Easing the trolley upright from its tilt, Shep turned toward the door and picked up the clipboard, tucking it between his forearm and chest. Lifting his chin, he steeled himself into some form of professionalism in his role as Delivery Man before he raised an inked and ringed hand to knock out a little rap-tap-tap-rap-tap! on the doorway, then waited.

Amare would probably fall over and die of shock: Saila was actually researching something on the internet when she became aware of the presence of the biker and his... package... at the foot of the private stairwell access to her apartment.

It took an act of heroism not to move on the curiosity that crawled all over her like a buzzing fly; the mercurial teen literally sat on one of her hands to keep herself from reacting or going to see what on earth he was up to. She waited out what felt like an eternity while Shep wrestled with his task, muscling it up the stairs and across the narrow foyer to the door, and it felt like she really might jump out of her skin from anticipation when he took those several seconds more to adjust and get into character.

Finally. The sound of the knock on the door was like the scratching of a hard to reach itch; the wave of pleasurable relief was all out of proportion to its stimulus. Practically bounding out of her chair, laptop forgotten, Saila was across the small apartment and opening the door in four steps or less.

The words "Hey Shep!" were already most of the way out of her mouth when she really stopped to look at him. Brows furrowing, the sound died on her lips altogether as she blinked curiously mismatched eyes once and then again, trying to focus. She looked him over slowly, taking in the shorts, the sunglasses, the official looking clip board. Equally puzzled and amused, her head tilted curiously. "...uh. Hi?"

Shep was absolutely in character by the time the muse opened the door. Okay, so his stance was more soldier-like and stiff than a lax Delivery Man, but he was trying! When she started to greet him, he raised a brow and immediately shook his head. He fought a smile behind those whiskers that twitched with the effort as he moved the clipboard away from his chest, raising his other hand to tap at the red paper sticker slapped to the left breast pocket that read Hello, My Name Is... Ship, the name written in with black sharpie. "Hello, I have a package for one..." He looked to the delivery sheet as if he didn't already know her name. "Saila De-Fort-es," he drawled out her last name like it was a foreign word to him before reaching out to pat the large, glittery box on the trolley that was emanating a highly familiar energy.

"If you could sign here, please ma'am," he asked formally, fighting so hard at that smile that threatened his face as he held out the clipboard and plucked a pen from the right breast pocket of his shirt.

"Ship, is it? Ah..." Something twisting uncomfortably in her belly, Saila trailed off, her fingers twitched at her sides. She glanced down at the package with its big purple bow, and forced herself to relax. Acting.

The girl swallowed, cleared her throat, lifted her gaze back to Shep. Her expression by the time she got there was pure sheepish apology. "My bad. You just.. bear a striking resemblance to someone I know." The teen winced when he butchered her name, shaking her head as she brushed vivid violet strands back behind one of her ears. "...Yeah, that's me," she agreed, reaching for the pen and clipboard.

She signed it like she would an autograph, complete with a flourish and a little x over the i. Adding a heart just to the right of her name, she handed them both back all professionally. "This is... huh. Not quite the package I was expecting... are you sure it's safe?"

"Yes'm. Ship," he nodded firmly, with the most unconvincing tone. He wasn't the best actor, but he was trying his damnedest. It wasn't easy considering he was trying so hard not to laugh. Which only proved more difficult when she went along with it and claimed he looked like someone she knew. He reached up, scratching that distinctive beard. "I hear that a lot, if ya could believe it," he grunted. "Must have a common face 'round these parts.." He raised a brow behind those glasses as she signed away.

The package speak almost had him losing it and ruining the acting completely as his whiskers twitched and he had to clear his throat to swallow a chuckle. "It's a big'un, but m'sure it's as safe as it can be," he shrugged, taking back his clipboard and tucked the pen back into the breast pocket.

There was a muffled sound coming from the box, and Shep gave it a subtle nudge with the toe of his boot as a friendly smile shone over his face. "D'ya mind if I just..." He pointed to the inside of her apartment, his hand on the handle of the trolley. "It's a heavy box, gonna need to wheel it in," he assured her before his foot pressed to the bottom bar and he tipped it back slowly, waiting for her to give the okay before he'd wrestle the box inside.

It was testament to the year she'd spent acting that Saila didn't laugh outright, but even she couldn't quite prevent herself from smirking. "I'm ...not entirely sure what a--" the teen cleared her throat, "--big'un is, but I'm sure I can manage it."

Her smirk spread into a grin as she took several steps back, pulling the door more widely open as she went to clear the way. The apartment was small -- only four hundred square feet -- and nearly every available surface was covered in live plants. One wall directly opposite the lofted "bedroom" was gently blue with a rippling like waves, and lanterns like jellyfish were suspended from the ceiling. It was a little like being underwater on a lushly vegetated reef.

"I guess... just.. leave it in the middle of the floor here?" She gestured to the space between the couch and the stereo.

"Oh, I'm sure ya would if ya saw it," he had to force that laughter down, and the banter was almost too much. "Sure ya'd do jus' fine," he nodded his agreement to her managing it as he pressed his lips together.

As she opened the door wider and stepped out of the way, Ship gave a slight nod. "'Preciate it," he grunted, turning his back to the door as he set his clipboard on the top of the box so he could use both hands and a technique of using his stomach muscles to keep hold of the trolley. Taking careful steps backwards, he shimmied the box a little to ease it into and through the door frame as he wheeled it on inside, one step at a time before he gave a look around. This time, he couldn't help but smile. "Well, ain't this place just like goin' to the ocean," he hummed, his tone riddled with approval and appreciation for the decor.

He looked over his shoulder when she gestured and told him where to put the box. "Yes'm, that'll do jus' fine," he smirked once his head was turned away from her, and he wheeled the box to the spot she'd gestured, turning it around so it was facing her. He tipped the trolley upward, settling the box on the floor before he shimmied the flat stand out from beneath it with a couple grunts before it was freed. He let out a heavy sigh and smiled to her, reaching up to tip his hat in a nod.

"Well, that'll be all... hope ya enjoy your present," he gave her a coy smirk, picking up his clipboard and tucking it beneath his bicep before he was making his way towards the door. It wasn't until he reached the doorway and stepped out of it, pushing his trolley along with him that he turned and reached to close the door for her, pausing with his hand on the doorknob. "Oh, and Happy Birthday, toots," he winked, seeming to drop the facade altogether just as he was closing the door behind him.

Knowing full well what --or rather, who-- was in the box, Saila had gotten into the spirit of the thing. "You sure I can't get you something to drink?" she called, ever so solicitously, after him as he began to move away. "You're welcome to stay and hang out for awhile," her smirk spread as a nonchalant shrug rolled over narrow shoulders. "I mean, my birthday was almost a month ago and it's too early for that... Friends and cookies thing that happens in December, so... I'm in no hurry to open it."

Shep was well on his way out as he shook his head, trying to diffuse the hospitable muse. "No, no. I've got other deliveries to get to, ma'am!" Planning, I have planning to do! "I 'preciate the offer, but I'm a busy, busy," he emphasized, "man - err, delivery man. Thanks though! Ya very kind!" She's up to something... "Was it? Oh, well..." He glanced over his shoulder and hers to the box as he'd gotten to the door and shook his head. Now he really needed to get out of there.

"Christmas? Well," he smirked, this time teasing the box in the middle of the room. "Maybe you should wait to open it then." He couldn't help himself! "Thank ya, but no... no... I gotta go!" He was closing the door and escaping in an almost rushed manner. Once that door was closed, he was briskly walking down the stairs.

Meanwhile, the box knew better. Also, the box thought she was such a brat.


Truth be told, the girl had been sort of dying to know what the hell He--the box, that is -- was up to from the moment she first became aware of it, more than a mile from the apartment. There was no mistaking the energy it contained even if she hadn't heard the muffled grunt that had issued from its depths a short while ago, but Hex seemed to revel in going out of his way to surprise her so Saila was... indulging the both of them in prolonging the surprise.

She laughed as the door swung closed behind a very suddenly hurried She--no, Ship--and the teen shook her head as she surveyed the box. Perplexed but also highly entertained, the teenaged brat made no effort to approach the box, moving instead to the kitchen which...really only served a purpose as a well stocked bar.

While Ship had managed to escape, the box lingered in that same spot. The tracker inside could sense each of Saila's - the brat's - movements in the apartment, and there was a muffled snicker coming from the box before it was stifled abruptly. She was moving away from the box, and there was no questioning she'd know what was inside it - Hex knew better. While she was being a brat, he - err, the box - was patient as hell.

Though she may hear the scraping of metal against cardboard, maybe even the brief shimmer through the glittery wrapping paper as a hole was punctured from the inside-out. A couple seconds later.... she may even catch the metallic sound of a zippo cap flicking, the kssht of its wheel and the flicker of flame before a plume of smoke was pushed out from that newly punctured hole.

Saila had only gone to the kitchen to pour two glasses of whiskey--it was a nice one, though not as nice as the bottles Hex had gotten them from his family's stash-- but it was just long enough that apparently the box got impatient.

Snickering to herself, she started back towards it and then had a better idea, pulling an aboutface and heading into the kitchen. She snagged a third glass in one hand and turned the water on...

Leaving his glass on an adjacent end table, Saila made her way to the box at last. Nudging it with the toe of her boot much the same way Shep had, she juggled both glasses in one hand and used the other to investigate the box a little more closely, hoping it had a lid.

Whether it was impatience, or 'the box' merely being a smartass, it was hard to tell at that point. But those plumes of smoke seemed to blow out periodically through that punctured hole in the side as she went about her business pouring whiskey.

The nudge to the box got a muffled, soft grunt before a rather pointed... puff of smoke came out of the box, like it was some kind of smoke signal game. Though it was known better to ever play Hide and Seek with the muse.

Upon further inspection, she'd discover the box certainly had a lid. The distinct shadow of the lid's lip differentiated the bottom of the box from how it was opened, and the separation of the four ribbons on each side cut off and seemed to only be for decoration instead of actually holding the lid closed.

Though she may hear some soft rustling from the confines of that cardboard box...

"Oh ****, my present's on fire!" she exclaimed suddenly, sounding appropriately alarmed. She'd found the lip of the box and pried it suddenly upwards, shedding light on the man within...

...And also the source of the fire. The box lid fell aside at an angle as she shifted the glass of water from one hand into the other, dumping it unceremoniously on the box, the cigarette, and the man inside. Safety first!

Hex had been knelt on one knee to fit inside the box, leaning his forearm on the knee bent upward and smoking his cigarette. There was a light dusting of ash on the floor of the box from where he'd flicked it loose. He was calm, simply waiting with the occasional puff of smoke blown to the hole he'd made in the side of the box with a pocket knife so he didn't hot box it - literally. It was when she'd nudged it moments before that he'd fit the cigarette between his lips and gotten something small from his pocket, holding the string of the item, poised and waiting for her to open the box.

Her exclamation brought out the distorted bark around the cigarette filter. "You little br-....Ngh...." He grunted, when she upturned the lid of the box and his head reflexively ducked as water was poured over it, the sizzling of his cigarette from the paper getting wet and the cherry being extinguished, his eyes squeezing closed against the assault of water. "....brat.." He snickered, that slicked hair had cascaded down from the water, over his forehead.

He slowly rose from his crouch, the edge of the box coming no higher than where his belly button should've been if he'd had one. He was shirtless, wearing only jeans and boots, leaving the muscular and inked torso open to the air that was now sparkling with both the water... and glitter. Written over his chest - though now slightly smudged from the water that had poured down him - was Happy Birthday scrawled in purple glitter. The wet, mottled cigarette was spat from his lips with a duck of his head, letting it fall to the bottom of the box as those molten gold pools found the mercurial muse, a sly smirk curving over his mouth and dimpling one side before his hands rose from the box next. In them was a party popper that he lifted over her head and he gave a sharp tug to the string with a POP! that echoed through the apartment, just for paper confetti strings to burst out with the sound and rain down over her head.

https://www.colourbox.com/preview/5751408-colorful-confetti-golden-streamer-and-party-cracker-over-white-festive-decoration-background.jpg

"I know, I know," he sighed. "You're the Glitter Advocate of Rhy'Din," he teased, his lips - which had sparkles here and there - spread into a grin.

His hand slipped out from behind his head as he caught his bottom lip between his teeth. "Nghhhh..." Groaned softly, a small battle reigning inside his head but the not-so-obvious answer won. "As much as I would love," he emphasized as his hands smoothed over her back, arms wrapping around for a soft squeeze, "to go for a marathon day... or week..." He smirked, his eyes shifting to the windows whose light hinted that the time had gotten away from them again already. "We are supposed to be doing something soon." He lifted his head, bumping her nose with his. "So how about we call a raincheck on that marathon and go do a thing," he smirked, and those thoughts were pure static, with no hint to let her in on his plans.

Saila sat upright, straddling his hips. Glitter sparkled liberally all over her, and the effect it had on her gently swirling, phosphorescent tattoos was eerie, like serpents slithering among a gentle fall of ashes. She eyed him suspiciously, her strange gaze narrowing. "A...thing? We're going to do a thing?" Saila cocked her head quizzically. "You're up to something."

She was still deciding whether or not to dig deeper when a static she found oddly soothing moved over her. It was an achingly nostalgic feeling, reminding her of someone else entirely, but it confirmed her suspicions. "...Sneaky. You are definitely up to something."

He looked up at her as she sat up, those molten gold pools were a striking contrast to the darkness of his hair and the specks of purple glitter flakes that littered his cheeks, his forehead, his nose - well, all over. Since he was the one who'd started with the glitter, the ghost of his sparkly birthday message was smudged and smeared all over his chest. The expanse of tattoos were mottled and misconstrued beneath the glow. His hands smoothed over the tops of her thighs that hugged him, and her suspicious look was met with a steep raise of brow. "Yes, a thing." He scoffed. "What? Nah...." He shook his head.

But then, the fact that she took blatant notice of the static in his head that meant he was blocking off his thoughts came to light, and she was calling him out on it. His grin spread and it was undeniably Hellish as his shoulders shook with the soft laughter that rocked his chest. "Of course I'm up to something. I show up in a box with glitter on my chest and you think that's all I'm up to?" He beamed.

His stomach muscles contracting and tightening as he sat up quickly. One arm snaked around her slender waist, his other hand came down to the bed for balance as he rolled, flipping her onto her back as he rolled to his knees and that propped hand over her. "Oh, baby, I've just started," he warned her, shoulders bunching as he leaned down to press a kiss to her mouth that held warmth in it, then a couple softer, quicker ones to the corners of her mouth before he was rising. "Okay, but this time..." He lifted his hands. "We really can't afford distractions..." He eyed her, biting his bottom lip like he really, really didn't want to, but then he was climbing off the bed and to his feet.


"...He pins me to the mattress," she says like she's narrating this turn of events to an unseen audience, gesturing to the ceiling like she's onstage. "He pins me to the mattress on my back with my thighs still wrapped tightly around him, and then... then he tells me we can't get distracted. Can you imagine? He actually thinks this isn't distracting."

Saila heaved a melodramatic sigh, and then pushed herself up on her hands. The look she gave him was mischievou---no. The look she gave him was pure evil, her lips curling in a particular kind of grin, her hair falling in curly, glittery tangles down her ribcage to hug the curve of her breasts, her tattoos glowing gently in the afternoon sun. One brow arched just so. "...Probably we need a shower before we do this thing..."

He couldn't help the laughter that spilled from her narration. "Man, that guy sounds like an ass****," he teased her, lips curled into a grin that peeled back against his pearly white teeth. "I can't even imagine," he sighed, shaking his head.

Oh.. oh. But she got him back. He knew it was coming the moment he saw that Incarnation of Evil Smile, and he turned his head, eyeing her from the side like don't you do it, woman... But she did it. The enticing way her hair fell over her, accentuating her frame with that bed-tousled look. The grin on her face with the glow of her tattoos that the glitter only drew more attention to beneath the light. "We probably.... should... shower..." He eyed her, those golden orbs narrowing on her playfully. And despite - or maybe in spite - of himself, he knelt on the edge of the bed and tipped forward to catch himself on the mattress beside her.

"Dammit, woman, you are just so distracting," he accused her, with a smile on his face as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers for another kiss. "Youdidthatonpurpose," he called her out, mumbling against her lips. Onta you...

"Nah, he's not an ass****..." Saila defended her man, even from himself. Her grin spread slowly as he edged back towards her, relenting, victory painting itself into her glittery eyes. "I love that guy. He's super adorable. He's just... " She made a thoughtful face, lifting her chin as though searching for the right word.

It was just a dramatic pause, though; anyone who spent time around Saila knew she twirled her fingers when she was actually looking for a word, though most of them didn't know why. "...Kind of a brat," she finished just as his mouth met hers. Long lashes fluttering, she leaned into his kiss, nudging his nose with her own.

There was more revenge to be had, though: just as the kiss was getting intense and distracting again, Saila pulled abruptly away and scrambled to her feet. "Well, time for that shower..."

"Not even a little bit?" He briefly pouted until he saw the victory that shined in those bright mismatched eyes. "Oh really?" He asked, when she boasted her love for that guy, like he wanted to hear more. But the super adorable part had him crinkling his nose. "Don't know about that one.." He raised a brow as she 'tried to find' the word, but he knew better. He knew that little tell of hers. There was a brief smirk right before he'd kissed to being called a brat.

That kiss had been well on it's way to distracting him again.. but then she decided to get her vengeance, and the suddenness of her breaking it had him tipping forward just a little to try to chase her. He grumbled disapprovingly, very nearly pouting as he peeled his eyes open to watch her scramble to her feet. Oh, she'd gotten him, and it was clear by the almost proud, almost pouty look on his face. The announcement had his brow perking as he pulled back on the bed, straightening with his feet on the floor.

"Convenient timing," he smirked after her, and seemed to just be strolllllllling after her. "I suppose we should, though.." He sighed, but that long gait was brisk behind her as he'd be ever-so-subtly and ever-so-gently, caressing his fingers down her spine like a feather. And it took all he had to fight that smirk.

Saila was feeling pretty triumphant to be sure, pretty proud of herself for winning that one (...assuming it could actually be called winning, which was debatable). She grinned ever so nonchalantly over her shoulder at him as her long legged stride carried her angular, recently bedazzled frame towards the bathroom, only to find him essentially right behind her, his fingers playing just so over her spine.

Saila shivered, hanging back to bring his body close to hers once more. "I mean.... I guess we could skip the shower..."

She'd won that round. He'd let her have that one... she earned it. Brat. But it was when she hung back, and he took only one more step that had the line of a muscular frame flush to her back. His fingers left her spine since there was no space for them and he snickered when she rethought the decision on the shower. "What's making you change your mind?" The smirk was growing wider, turning into a full blown grin at that point as his fingers crawled around her waist. His head lowered to hover over her shoulder. "We're gonna be a mess for that thing if we don't," he smirked. Oh, if only she knew just how messy it was gonna get, too.

The teen seemed to be seriously pondering it, weighing the merits of being clean against the merits of being...naked with Hex some more. His body moved against hers and she leaned back into him accordingly, tipping her head to let it rest in the small depression at the front of his shoulder.

Her long lashes fluttered once as she settled against him, at least briefly. Warm arms circled her hips, and she practically snuggled into him, almost like she was thinking about taking a nap. While standing up. Stark naked. In the doorway of her bedroom.

"Mm." She mumbled in a tone that was somewhere between drowsy contentment and lustful curiousity. "Is this a thing we have to be unmessy for?"

His head turned as she settled in against him, his arms and torso creating something of a standing mattress to form herself against without worry of it tipping over on her. He raised a dark brow at the way she seemed almost nap-ready, and he eyed her speculatively. "Now ain't the time for a nap," he teased her.

Well, wouldn't that be timing... Surprise! Nope. Sorry guys, she went into her sleep coma. Hold your places! She'll be back in... err... okay, it won't be for a while. As much as he didn't mind being the mattress for the naked abomination, he gave a light squeeze to her waist with muscle corded arms and a rousing nudge to her jawline with his nose.

Though her question had him chuckling against that messy cascade of violet at the side of her neck, he shook his head. "No, this is a thing you can be plenty messy for," he told her. "Long as you don't mind being messy in public... ish..." Okay, so it wasn't necessarily public, but there would be people. His hips swayed lightly behind her, which had him making her sway with him. "Though... I have a question myself... Do you even own bright clothing?" He inquired, those golden pools finding the side of her face as one brow soared higher than the other.

...He genuinely seemed uncertain. The last time he'd seen her closet... it was just a sea of black that you could drown in.

Moving bonelessly against him as he swayed, the teen ran her nails lightly over the backs of his tattooed arms, tracing the rippled line of muscle up to his elbows. "Public, huh? I should... probably shower then."

Her eyes were still closed, though, not that she needed them to resume her lazyish stroll towards the bathroom. They flashed open, though, when he asked her about her clothes. "Y'mean... other than underwear? No." Her brows furrowed suspiciously, and she came to a stop again. "...Why?"

Her nails left a trail of goosebumps behind that spread over the inked skin, sending a subtle quake of a shiver to roll down his spine for her efforts. "That... might be a good idea. Even if it's biased by my want for a shower." His nose crinkled at the bridge, considering he was a mess. His hair, the sparkles... other reasons...

But when she started that lazy stroll, he seemed to tag along for the ride. His gait was timed with hers effortlessly as they edged closer to the bathroom until her stopping had him pressed firm to her back once more in his own abrupt stop. He snickered. "Oh, I'm well aware how colorful your underwear drawer is, babe," he laughed. "It's like the Pride parade threw up in there," he smirked, but it didn't linger as he gave her a look. "...I can't tell you why. Just know that if you wear black... wear something you're also not afraid to get ruined," he smirked.

Saila peered up at him quizzically, her brows inching together as her lips pursed, but she didn't inquire further. She knew how much these surprises meant to him, and resigned herself to waiting it out, whatever it turned out to be.

"I pretty much have to wear black if we're going to be in public," she murmured, as though to explain herself, as she resumed walking towards the bathroom. Once she'd crossed its threshold, Saila separated from him at last, stepping halfway into the shower to turn it on. Twisting the hot water tap almost all the way on, she stepped back into the warmth of his body while she waited for it to heat up.

"...Clothes I'm not afraid to get ruined," she echoed thoughtfully. "This is a very strange thing you're putting together..."

"Okay, fair enough, Goth Queen," he smiled softly, reluctantly releasing her when they crossed the threshold and separated. She readied the water and... caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. "****in' hell..." He shook his head, snickering, and pulled his eyes away from the image of himself looking like a Magic Mike extra. He'd much rather look at her, especially as she returned to him, and his arms wasted no time in winding around her waist. The corner of his mouth hiked upward as he winked.

"Baby, you don't know the half of it," he assured her, maybe a little bit proud in the moment before he smudged his lips over hers. "I looove you," he hummed against the corner of her mouth, considering he knew how much it bugged her when she couldn't catch those plotting thoughts of his.

"Goth...Queen..." mused Saila, turning the words thoughtfully over her tongue. "I get called some variation on that a lot. Is it 'cause I wear black?" She wasn't sure what else qualified her, beyond the pale skin and dramatically hued hair she hadn't had a single hand in choosing. "Oh, wait, could be the cemetery connection, thing..." she hummed thoughtfully, still musing on that point as she curled and flared her fingers underneath the spray of water, both to search for more information and to check the temperature.

Once she was back in his arms, the teenager smirked. "Love you too, Brat," she fired back at him, but there was no anger in it. She could feel how pleased with himself he was even if the rest of it was murky. Sure, she probably could have pushed her way inside anyway, and on something else she might one day try. For right now, though, she was pleased with how pleased he was with successfully keeping anything from her. Saila giggled.

"C'mon, Magic Mike, let's get clean."

There was a subtle pout when Saila squirmed away from him, but it wasn't totally sincere, more playful. She'd escaped, and he raised a brow when she landed beside the mattress. Golden pools squinted at her as she peeked over the edge, relaxing when she rose. "Okay?" He questioned, amusement glinting as she brushed off her imaginary wardrobe and cleared her throat. Lip caught between his teeth, his chin lifted with a tick of his brows. Yes...? There was a spill of snickering laughter when she mentioned getting dressed, and he knew it was about time to let that finally happen. "Okay, okay..." He nodded, palms to the mattress as he pushed himself to sit up on the edge of the bed.

He was mid-stand when she caught his attention with her look, and that devilish smile that summoned a distorted mirror version of his own. It grew significantly at her promise, brows wiggling playfully. "See, now that's what I wanted to hear," he chuckled deeply, straightening the rest of the way as he stood. He looked to the discarded jeans on the floor, snickering as he picked them up and gave them a once over. They were damp from the water, and completely splattered with glitter. "...Nope." Sure, he'd get messy again anyways, but he wanted a clean slate. He didn't even put them with dirty laundry, he just walked over to the trash, got everything out of his pockets, and dumped them. Engine grease? Fine. Glitter...? He'd find remnants in his washing machine for months!

Walking over to the dresser, he slid open the drawer that stored a couple of his outfits. He wasn't a material man, especially not with clothes, so he simply chose the top accessible outfit that conveniently was a plain black tee shirt and pair of jeans, a pair of boxers. He took a lingering look at her naked form before she hid it beneath clothing, a hook of a smile curving his mouth before he started to get dressed himself.

Saila sashayed her way into the closet and... stood there for awhile, mulling over the piecemeal instructions she'd received so far. Something that isn't black...well, that's out. Something in public, so something cute, but also something I wouldn't mind getting messy... The purple haired teen ran her fingers lightly over the various clothing items that hung in rows on the three bars installed at different heights, trying to let the fabrics themselves guide her. She called up memories of Sabine, and Jackie, her two friends with considerably more shopping experience than she'd had to date, and tried to imagine what either of them would suggest. (She'd considered just asking Quinn, but no sooner had she had the thought than an elaborate answer came back to her, something involving multiple layers of body armor and possibly a nun's habit.)

Choosing something at last, Saila emerged from the closet in a tshirt dress that made her think of Hex and Shep (ahem, Ship) both. It was black of course, cut into a low V-neck but with the actual collar of the shirt still remaining, so that she appeared to be wearing a choker style necklace. The front was emblazoned in white with an eagle's head seal surrounded by wings. Across the top it read "Rock N Roll" ; across the saddle of her hips it read "Motorcyle", and just underneath that, it said "Hellraiser Tour". Yeah, she figured her own personal Hellion would approve, especially given the short length.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she pulled on thigh high socks that were black and white striped, and then began the long slow process of lacing her boots. When she was finished, she stood, brushing out the skirt. "What do you think?" The girl wanted to know as she struck a very actress-ish pose. "Does this meet all your requirements?"

By the time Saila figured out what she even wanted to wear, Hex was already dressed and messing with that wild mane of hair. Considering it had dried during their bedsheet fiesta, it was an untamed mess of waves that determined exactly which parent he'd gotten that trait from. What took him the longest to get ready, was taming it again and slicking it back while she got ready, and laced her boots. He had the necessities on her dresser, and it was a methodical process that he didn't need a mirror for at this point. He knew the routine like the back of his hand, something he could do with his eyes closed.

Turning away from the dresser when she asked, his eyed locked on the dress she'd chosen, the stockings, and the boots that pulled the outfit together. A slow, devilish grin that was softened by indents of dimples in his cheeks spread wide as he made his way over to her, messily wiping his hands off on his jeans. (They were going to get ruined anyways.)

He could easily see from there, but he acted like he needed a closer look. "Hm..." His eyes scanned over the words on the tee shirt dress, corners of his mouth twitching as he seemed utterly amused by it. "I don't know, maybe a twirl..?" Naturally, he was looking at the skirt of the dress as he said so, standing only a couple feet from her. He crossed his arms pointedly, as if this was simply a studious opinion and he was the judge. "It's black.. but... I think I can let that slide considering." He muttered, raising a brow at her.

Silvery brows arching skeptically at his faux-studious expression, the girl nonetheless executed a half turn, spinning away from him. With her back turned, she made a show of wiggling her butt, ostensibly to show off the skirt he was having so much trouble appraising. It had nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that she knew how much he liked it, naturally.

"Hey, there's white on it!" Protested Saila, because the white image and writing totally meant that it wasn't perfectly black, right? White counted as a color, just ask her. "And my socks have white on them too..." Executing the rest of the pirouette so she could face him again, the girl had both arms crossed over her chest in a mock defiant way, like she was daring him to argue with her logic.

His head tilted as he watched the skirt ruffle in her partial turn, fighting the smirk that was threatening the integrity of his mouth. Though, the tell-tale signs of his approval came in the catch of a canine at the corner of his bottom lip. The slight abusive indent of the tooth as he nodded slowly. He did like it. He liked it the moment he'd read those words, and just about every else about it. The drapery of v-neck, the cut of the skirt. The stockings, the boots. Though he could argue that she could rock anything, he seemed particularly keen on this one.

"Right, my bad," he chuckled, lifting one hand from his crossed stature in surrender. "That solves everything," he teased with a wink. It's true, it would work! "I noticed.." He hummed, about her socks. He looked at them, a coy smirk making its presence known after all. He watched her finalize the spin, and fought his laughter in her mock crossing of arms. Her daring look was met with a lift of his chin as if it was a personal challenge, and his chest expanded in a show of resistance.... before he deflated a split second later with a gush of air leaving him and that boyishly dimpled grin.

"Alright, m'sold... you look damn good, babe. And it fits the quota," he smirked, uncrossing his arms as he took that final step toward her, pressing a wet kiss to her cheek as he wound her up in corded muscle of arms. "What do you say we get this show on the road? Before I get distracted again," he wrinkled his nose as he nuzzled into her temple.

Grinning brightly when he relented, Saila let the cross of her arms drop. Lifting both hands to rake her fingers through long purple curls, she finger-combed them a little but mostly left them loose and wild. Like a doll, her hair was still unnaturally well kept despite their previous periods of distraction, somehow falling in sexy tousled waves that were mostly if not entirely dry already. "Glad to have met your approval," she said loftily, a haughty note in her voice that dissolved almost immediately. Stepping forward into his embrace, she kissed him lightly on the tip of the nose with only a subtle rise onto the toes of her boots.

Stepping back before they could get distracted again, her strange eyes traveled every inch of his frame in kind, putting him through the same appraisal, like he was wearing anything different than normal. She held up one hand, twirling her extended index finger in a half circle, indicating that she wanted to see the view from the other side, too. Fair's fair, right?

"As if you need it..." He teased, his smile coy even through the reflexive way his nose crinkled to the kiss. Yes, he was pointing out her teenage rebellion. He knew it was in there. Even if technically she was "legal" now.

His arms released her, a bit more willingly this time with a goal in mind, but the way she gave him that scrutinizing gaze had him lifting his arms as well as a brow. Silent questions in his eyes, seeking her own approval of his... normal attire. She gave him that expectant twirling finger and he let out a snicker. "Alright," he nodded, lowering his arms before he turned around in a spin of heel. With a slight blue steel look on his face, golden hues narrowed on her in an overplayed sultry way, and... there was a slight sway of his hips that was less sashay and more like he was using his hips as a hynotist's watch. "So? Do I fit your standards of arm candy?" He teased, waggling his brows at her.