{M} - tem[p]les made out of paper.

Barrett · 07-10-2011, 06:37 PM

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<3! Nah, I'm weird and actually like when people PP my characters as long as it's not... out of character for them/completely random XD Sorry if this post is sort of all over the place, I got interrupted three separate times while writing it x__x

If his brain were likened to a board of directors, it would seem the “Self Control” trustee was on perpetual vacation leave. The only time he could be arsed to check his Blackberry and send in an emergency executive decision was in case of dire physical threat. Barrett showed remarkable self-restraint when it came to violence—but when it came to pleasure, when it came to matters where there was no clear-cut victim, he was all too willing to throw caution into the wind. “Abstinence” and “sobriety” weren't really part of his vocabulary. Although this recklessness had backfired on him before, the number of misses paled in comparison to the number of hits. Non-indulgence was undeniably less fun.

Patience, however, was a different story. He floated along whichever way the wind blew; he wasn't in a rush to get anywhere in particular. Even when it came to things he desired, he was happy to jump through whatever hoops necessary, right up until the point where sloth superseded want. His patience stemmed more from lack of ambition than any true virtue. Nevertheless, it afforded him a carefree demeanour; he wasn't pushy, he never felt entitled. And so, at her jesting remark, he only quirked one brow while his tail swung in amusement. Okay, okay, I'll give it a shot. (To be fair, he was willing to expend an appreciable amount of effort for a worthwhile cause—his labour around the garage being a prime example.)

The youth flexed automatically in response to her light touch, a subconscious, subliminal sort of peacocking meant to show off the goods. As an added bonus, he found it easier to support the Dancing Shiva's unnatural weight distribution with the muscles of his core tensed and engaged. There was a kind of quiet determination in his gaze, although the snaking movement of her hand down his leg proved a worthy distraction. He cast her a quick, flirtatious smile before setting his sights ahead once more. With her guidance, his form was able to contort and stretch significantly further than he might have guessed, and even as she removed her support, he was able to maintain the pose. For fifteen seconds... thirty... and then he realised he'd forgotten to breathe.

As he exhaled his leg dropped back down and his upper body straightened. His dismount wasn't quite as graceful as Alae's, but it was miles ahead of his first attempt. The improvement was respectable; hopefully she agreed. Between his past experience and her guidance, he supposed he might learn faster than most—but the Baptiste yoga was still very different from whatever lessons he'd received in Taijitu. Those had focused more on rapid flow and progression, mimicking the graceful dance of a martial artist engaged in battle. Even so, he recognised that both styles required a great mental and physical effort to perfect. Just that one pose left him feeling even more relaxed than before.

“You'll have to show me more sometime,” he mused. “And you'll have to tell me more about your plants. How 'bout another smoke to celebrate?” he proposed, figuring it was as good a way as any to toast their new alliance. He offered his hand to lead her back to the garage, work on the dolly temporarily forgotten. He could always finish it later. For now, he'd rather sit back on the couch and enjoy her company more fully.

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