riverviewlogs | introductory mingle: CARNIVALE

He can already tell pretending not to blush is going to be a losing battle, so it’s easier to just let it go. He’s also not down with being called adorable, mostly because he gets the feeling that makes him sound kind of weak. But she doesn’t seem to be saying it as any sort of insult, just as an statement of a fact. He purses his lips down.

Having met her when he was forced to be honest makes this a little more intense than what he had expected, but the topic of the conversation makes it easy for him to put his focus elsewhere.

“My knees are fine.” He says, apparently unconcerned with her assuming he would be the one tied up. He knows that Nat wouldn’t make him fun of him for it, and everyone else seems to be focused on their own “research” to pay attention to them so why bother denying it?

“But someone would have to be very skilled indeed to be able to tie me up in a way that would actually restrain me.”

"Careful, Alexei. That sounds like a challenge." She smiles, goes back to flipping through the book, though her eyes do dart back up to watch for that blush spreading. She had warned him, back in the elevator, that Natalie might not be to his liking, that she could be quite cold. She wonders if he's wishing for some of that right about now, for a cold shoulder and dismissal rather than this close scrutiny.

Not that he'll get it.

There’s no way for him to answer that that won’t end up making everything worse, so he decides to let it go for now. In a place like this it’s hard to tell what’s an offer and what’s just teasing between people who know each other, and while they definitely had a… moment where they both acknowledged the attraction in the elevator Illya of all people isn’t going to let lust ruin what could be a perfectly good friendship unless he’s sure.

He looks back at the stand where he found the book, glancing for others that may be of interest. Nat shouldn’t be surprised by now that he ends up grabbing another one that seems to be an anthology about different kinds of restraints.

“Are you here just to tease me, or looking for anything in particular?”

Not surprised, no. Pleased, perhaps? He appears to be continuing the general theme of letting her see something very honest. It's nice, even if she's not sure how comfortable she is reciprocating at this point in time. That elevator was... rough, to say the least. His eyes are so direct and expressive, though, concealing nothing. He's an open book. Maybe not to everyone, not a bleeding heart, but he knows the way she looks at people, the things she's able to read, and he's not hiding.

"My world does not revolve around you, you know. I was shopping." She holds up her arm, a bag dangling from the crook of her elbow. It's not huge, but it's obviously full, and whatever she's purchased has some weight to it. "This place is my kind of candy store. Teasing you is just the cherry on top."

It’d be pretty silly, he thinks, to try to hide in a place like this. He could pretend, he supposes and pick something else- maybe some very vanilla book or another. But while he’s rather shy about this kind of thing he’s also determined and knows what he wants… and hiding it seems a little counterproductive when she’s already caught him.

“Then you are a little ahead of me. This place…” He glances at her. “Not that I do not know exactly what I want, but so much variety does get a little overwhelming. It feels very decadent, to have so many choices out here in the open. It took me a while to find where to start.”

He motions at her bag with his chin.

"But you seem ready."

"Getting there. I've only been through about half this place. I have what I knew I wanted, but the fun part is finding the things you didn't know you wanted." She closes the book. but doesn't put it down yet. Maybe she'll get it. The illustrations are surprisingly lovely, and it would make a fun to do list. "Is this the first stall you've stopped at?" If so, his poor luck to run into her straight away. Or maybe his good luck. It remains to be seen.

He shakes his head. He’d been walking around with Re-L just a moment before, had seen some stands already. He just hadn’t bought anything yet.

“I like knowing all the options I have before I make a decision, and unlike you I did not came here with a clear idea of what to get.”

He actually hasn’t had sex since he got here, but if he’s honest he doesn’t miss it. He likes sex, for sure but it’s hardly been a priority for him and this isn’t the longest he’s spent without sex. He could have tried to end up with some local girl but… it seemed like too much of a hassle for someone he wouldn’t even really like.

“But if you do not get the book, I will.”

"I think you should," she says, though she doesn't hand it over. "Lots of fun things in here. Might help you to loosen up a little." She raises her free hand, one finger extended as though to forestall any objection. "You are very tightly wound. It's not healthy. You're a handsome man with a good sense of humour buried underneath all that rage. You're even a nice guy. You deserve to enjoy yourself a little bit." What she doesn't say, but is absolutely thinking, is that it might even help him feel a little better about his life in general. Things, well, they don't go away with a good fuck, but they can be pushed to a back burner for a bit.

She takes a step closer, holds up the book, though she still won't let go even if he takes it. "You are a good man, Alexei." She says the name with enough weight that it might as well be his, packed full of things she's not actually saying, packed full of the things she knows. He has the same potential she did, only he might actually be close enough to human to truly save. "You deserve to find some happy."

This is absolutely not what Illya was expecting from this conversation, at all. But he should have know better, because this is Nat he’s talking to. And conversations with her haven’t been exactly normal ever since they met. Sure, the elevator was… well, they were forced to be honest thanks to certain annoying bugs. But he was honest with other people that day, and it didn’t create the kind of bond he created with Natasha.

“I…” He’s lost for words for a second. She’s not the first one to tell Illya he needs a good fuck, but she’s definitely the first one who’s being this nice about it.

“Thank you, I guess. But you think this-” He motions at the book. “Is what I need to make me happy?”

"It might be. What I'm saying is, if you think it will make you happy, don't deny yourself. What's the point? Life is short, enjoy as much of it as you can." So the question is not whether or not she thinks it will make him happy (which she does, for the record) but whether he thinks it will.

Of course, being too serious for too long makes this whole thing feel like a repeat of the elevator, and that was a supremely awkward afternoon. So her smile shifts to something a little more wicked. "Or you could just jerk off to the sexy pictures."

Illya doesn’t usually laugh. He doesn’t even do it on purpose, it’s just not something that comes naturally to him- though he does have a sense of humor and he teases people often. So the fact that Nat gets an amused snort out of Illya should be counted as a win, even if it comes with the bright red blush crawling up to his cheeks.

“What makes you think I don’t already?” See? He can tease. He’s still pretty awkward about the whole thing, and he says it in a soft ton so only Natalia hears, but still. He grins down at her then shrugs. “I think happiness doesn’t depend on this kind of thing, but I can see how it’d help. I’m not… denying myself though, not really. Or at least I don't think I am.”

Repression and denial go hand in hand, and a rush of sympathy makes her decide to not push at this particular sore spot. He'll get there. Just maybe not today. "All the more reason to buy it, then." This time, she does push the book into his hands. If it serves no other purpose, it will be a reminder of the things he can have. Things that he is allowed to want for himself, now that he's in the process of taking his life back. More symbolic than literal, because she's sure he needs more than just a sexual partner who will tie him up so that he's physically incapable of running away from what he wants.

It's the freedom to choose. That's what matters.

Probably a smart decision on her part. Illya trusts her already, as much as he would allow himself to trust someone he basically just met. But part of that trust comes from her not pushing it when she had the chance, and actually going to great lengths to keep him from sharing more than he wanted to share. He appreciates that she’s still not pushing it, even when forced honesty isn’t a concern.

“You know, I think....” He reaches for his wallet, giving the owner of the stand a signal that he’s going to buy the book. She’s a perky woman who doesn’t even react when she reads the title of the book, which Illya appreciates. “You may be right on this one.

If anything it’s going to be a really entertaining read.”

Natasha watches him purchase the book, watches the stall owner wrap it in paper and put it in a bag. It's a good first step. When he turns back to face her, she smiling. "Good. Good for you."

Which then leaves them simply standing looking at one another surrounded by a collection of extremely dirty books. It has the potential to get awkward, and she would hate that. Especially now. "So." She glances back out of the rest of the festival. "Feel like getting a cupcake? I saw some a few stalls over. Fair warning, though, the icing on them looks like dicks. Or you could come help me taste test edible body paint."

Illya wasn’t expecting her to want to spend more time with him, but nothing in his relationship with Natalia has been predictable. Why would a stroll around a kink-filled festival be any different? He wrinkles his nose a bit at the idea of dick-cupcakes… it just feels lewd in a non-pleasant way, like eating a cupcake shaped like a breast.

Body paint sounds a little more fun, though, more up his alley. So he shrugs one shoulder and motions at her to lead the way with his head.

“Edible body paint sounds like it could be fun.”

He's odd, and he's surly, and getting to know him is like pulling teeth. She doesn't want him to think that means he's not worth time and attention. It took a while for her to accept that about herself, and she's pretty sure she can do the same for Illya. Probably not as smoothly and sympathetically as Clint did for her, but it's the end result she's most concerned with.

Also, she is one thousand percent sure they will come across cupcakes frosted like tits eventually. Probably vaginas, too. Because why wouldn't they?

"So much fun." She's agreeing with a sentiment he has not actually expressed, intentionally misunderstanding him just a little. Teasing him is just too utterly delightful, and no matter what, she knows she's not going to give it up entirely. "Shall we?" She holds out her arm for him to take, and if it's because she wants to make it more difficult for him to just walk away from her, she'll never tell.

Illya wonders what is it about him that makes him end up browsing a place like this with gorgeous women by his side, but he figures he shouldn’t complain. It’s not like he doesn’t enjoy their company, gorgeous or not and he still maintains having someone as big as he is by their side will help keep unwanted attention away. Not that he thinks Nat needs him for that, he knows she isn’t even in the vicinity of needing his help for that. But that doesn’t mean Illya wouldn’t make things easier.

But he decides to keep those thoughts to himself as he happily takes her arm.

“I doubt there will be many variants, but it could be fun. Are you looking for any specific color?” A bit of a grin. “Are you going to use it with someone specific?”

"You're about to be surprised, then, and I'm more interested in the flavour. The point is to paint it on and then lick it off." She doesn't address the question about someone specific, because up until a few moments ago she wasn't actually planning on buying any body paint. It's a far more playful and intimate thing than she's usually interested in. The stall she's taking him to is entertaining, though, and she's mostly amusing herself with the promise of getting to watch Illya roll up his sleeves and lick stripes of the stuff of of himself. He might end up wishing he'd gone for the cupcake in the end.

And, of course, because she can't just leave it alone entirely, she nods her head at the bag he's carrying, the book in it. "That's more my idea of art in the bedroom." Make of that what you will. Most people guess her motivations incorrectly, and she's fine with that.

Illya snorts.

“I’d had gathered as much from the ‘edible’ part.” He may blush easily and fumble a little when it comes to talking sex, but even he can put two and two together and figure that the actual painting isn’t the only interesting part of the body paint. Sure, it’d be fun to paint on your partner- Illya could see himself having a lot of fun with that if he found someone he trusted. But taking it off- that’d be the real fun.

“And you didn’t answer the other question, but I’ll give you a pass on that one.” They have had enough forced honesty between them at this point, let’s be real. “You convinced me to get the book, so I owe you one. But you don’t seem like you need convincing for anything.”

"There's no one in particular. Just... endless possibility. Why? Jealous?" The look on her face does not match the tone of her voice. She doesn't think he'd honestly be jealous. Their acquaintance has been brief, unconventional, and full of forced vulnerability. She can't bring herself to regret most of it, but she also isn't under any illusion that it's any more common for him than it is for her. Sex is easy. Someone you can talk to, that's difficult. In their line of work, in particular, it's hardly worth spoiling the latter with the former.

She turns him down a corner and brings him to a surprisingly large stall, full of all sort of edible body paints and massage oils and lubricants. One wall has a table laid with open jars, small cups of wooden sticks spread throughout and signs reminding patrons to not double dip and to dispose of the sticks in the trash bins below.

Natasha lets go of Illya to shrug out of her jacket and put it in her shopping bag. "Start with vanilla? Come on, roll up your sleeve." She dips a stick into one pot of body paint, swiping it onto her own wrist.

“You’ll have to do a little better than that to make me jealous.” He teases back. Because yes, he can definitely tease back. He enjoys having someone to banter with, actually. Just because he sulks most of the time doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a sense of humor- he just usually keeps it for people whose company he actually enjoys.

But also, they are both aware that as much as their experiences seemed to match in the elevator there’s really no reason for him to actually be jealous. Or any more jealous than anyone would be of someone who has sex with a gorgeous woman.

His eyes seem to wander towards the massage oils, the smell is really nice. But that’s not why they are here, and he quickly rolls up his sleeves.

“You didn’t strike me as a vanilla kind of person.”

"Well then, probably more trouble than it's worth." She's still teasing him, it's just now she's teasing him by... not teasing him. Natasha's not entirely sure how to class it. She doesn't do this with many people. Friendship is not something she actively goes seeking out. It's found her in the past, of course, and like an idiot she let it-- not that it matters now. Can't change the past, just like she can't change the fact that Illya now knows her better than anyone in the city.

"And I like vanilla. It's sweet." She swipes the other side of the popsicle stick against his arm as soon as he reveals it, and then licks half the paint off of her own wrist. "Maybe a little too sweet. I don't know. Pretty shade of white, though. I like the shimmer."

Illya hums, because that’s fair. Personally he’d choose based on the flavor, and not the color but he’s a very tactile person. To him, the way the colors would look on his partner would be the least of his worries. He lets her paint his wrist with the popsicle and glances at it before licking it. It’s sweet, for sure.

“It’s a good flavor. But I’d probably look for some variety to go with it.”

He glances around, looking at the different colors they all come with an explanation of the flavor attached to them, as well so it doesn’t take long for Illya to choose one he may like.

“Maybe strawberry?”

"Strawberries are good," she agrees. While he reaches for a stick, she lightly takes hold of his arm, bringing it closer to her mouth so she can lick a bit of the remaining vanilla paint off of him.

When he looks back at her, she just smirks and shrugs one shoulder. "Perfume smells differently on different people, why wouldn't body paint taste different? Have to be thorough, you know. And it does. Taste different. It's sweeter on me."

And there’s Illya’s blush up to his ears, right on cue. Yes he should have seen it coming, no that doesn’t make the situation any less embarrassing for him. The saleswoman seems to find his reaction amusing, and she giggles at him- at least until Illya gives her a good old glare™ and she decides to go check what some other client wants. Smart woman.

His glare is all gone when he looks back at Natalia, instead just raising an eyebrow at her as he considers how to tease her back. But the answer seems pretty easy.

“Give me your arm, then. Only fair.”

introductory mingle: CARNIVALE

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