open rp post; voicetesting

[crazyasslove]

This is an open post for Gina! Leave me a prompt (picture, lyrics, tfln, whatever) or a starter. Anything goes!

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[crazyasslife]

Nick wandered into the living room, in nothing but his cargo shorts, his hair still wet from the shower. He'd been in there far too long after the water shut off. Mostly he'd been using a handheld mirror in an attempt to get a look at the back of his head. His hair still hadn't grown back over the new scar. Which actually made him smile. That made it more obvious. Even better proof of what was now a two part story about the plate in his head.

Feeling something under his back, he frowned, shifting and pulling it out. One of the magazines given to them to apparently help for their upcoming wedding. Which they'd already decided would be modest and simple. And yet, people kept offering their advice. Even when he tried to tell them not only did he buy the ring on Ebay but his proposal involved narrowly avoiding psycho murders trying to steal their identities.

He started flipping through it, and landed on a dress that really shouldn't have amused him. "You sure you don't want a fancy dress? This one's fitting." He held it up for her to see, shifting so he was more or less pressing the top of his head to the couch, looking at her upside down and grinning. The dress was stark white with what were supposedly red floral accents cascading down from the top to the waist in an asymmetrical design. Up lose the flowers were obvious. But at a distance, it was just the right color to look like a spill of blood.

[crazyasslove]

They both had their scars from the whole ordeal. At first, Gina's made her frown at her hand anytime she examined her ring and at her leg anytime she was wearing shorts. She wasn't like Nick. She was tough, sure, and more than capable of taking care of herself. But she wasn't used to that level of violence and combat and it had taken her a little longer to bounce back than she would've liked, emotionally speaking. A lot of that, she knew, had to do with the trauma of thinking that Nick had been dead. Of course, in retrospect, it was kind of ridiculous. Nick was really hard to kill.

But she had bounced back and now she viewed the scars as marks of survival rather than something to frown at. She was in the kitchen, whipping up a pitcher of tea. She still held onto some of her southern roots, and her fondness for sweet iced tea was one of them. She leaned out of the kitchen to see what he was talking about, brows arching a bit.

"You know, Nicko, if you were half as funny as you think you are, I might've considered laughin' at that." She abandoned her tea, though, stepping out of the kitchen to get a better look at the picture anyway. They were definitely flowers up close. And a lot less fitting. "'Sides, do I strike you as a fancy dress kinda girl?"

[crazyasslife]

When they'd first returned home, when the adrenaline and excitement had worn off, even Nick had seemed a little despondent. He seemed to be hesitant to share his grand tales or to even be all that social. He masked it all well, because obviously he needed to take care of Gina. She wasn't nearly as accustomed to such things as he was. But once he bounced back, it was clearly obvious that something had been off. Some of it was trauma, some of it worry for his fiancee. But part of him had just needed time to sort out all that had happened. Granted, that time was only about a week or so. And where as so many others internalized such intense situations, he need to externalize them. Anyone who asked about their vacation or spoke to him for more than a few minutes got to hear the tale.

"It would certainly surprise people," he offered, that grin still plastered on his face. "Maybe not white, though." And that smile took on a slightly different shade, something far more suggestive.

[crazyasslove]

And dear god did they tell that story, probably a million times, to cops and wide-eyes friends and family. It was basically always Nick telling the story, because he was better at telling stories, and it seemed to be something he needed to do to cope with the whole thing. That was fine with her, because she wasn't particularly fond of reliving the whole experience over and over again. She only interjected when she needed to, filling in the holes she'd experienced first hand that he hadn't.

Things were settling, though. They were going back to normal. Or what was normal for them, anyway. And while the entire thing and sort of killed vacations for her for awhile, at least nobody had asked them what they were doing for their honeymoon.

Now she grinned a little, coming around the side of the couch. She tugged the magazine from his hands, more or less replacing it with herself, straddling his lap smoothly. She carded a hand lazily through his damp hair. "Are you makin' a stab at my feminine virtue?"