Prismatica IC Contact

[wetworking]

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text, un: noir; a couple of days after the puppets are freed

[gracile]

Mina-san,
Is this your address? I hope I'm contacting the right person.

This is Haru Okumura. I'm terribly sorry if I'm disturbing you.

a blip in the matrix )

[cadeuces]

( cont. from here! )

Hmmm.

( It's followed with her touch, tracing circles in the soft knit of thigh-highs she finds the edge of just beneath the hem of her sweaterdress, knee-high boots otherwise insulating her from the winter chill. Sanguis brought out a warmth in her she didn't usually possess, just a few degrees higher than usual and keeping her extremities just as warm when they so often ran cool otherwise.

Angela lowers a hand atop the other woman's and guides it a bit further up, purring: )

Thank you, then.

( Angela's hand is a soft thing, mild callouses desperately kept soft at the tips of her fingers, along the sides from wielding scalpels and other such surgical implements over the years, discernable to sharp senses and an observative sort, not that she's paying attention to Angela's knuckles at the moment. It's clear the other woman wanted company tonight. And so does the doctor, as it turns out. She's been more outgoing again, now that Dante's gone for good. It hid the loneliness threatening to swallow her whole. )