[ Even if Flagg decided to take him somewhere unpleasant, so long as he was nearby, Lloyd can cope with it. He likes to think that Vegas toughened him up, but the reality is that it probably didn't.
He liked to think that the 80's should be the primetime for cocaine, kinda like Scarface, but it's turning out to be a letdown. Trying to force the high to happen isn't working, either.. it's like being right on the fucking edge and not being able to climax. ]
Dunno 'bout that, it's kind of a let down.
[ Still..there's something kinda inviting about Flagg right now, and he takes the offered hand after removing his shoes, making himself comfortable. If he sidles up next to Flagg, it's only because he's extremely warm. ]
[ He pulls Lloyd in nice and close, running his fingers through his hair. Each stroke creates something like a high; not exactly the sort of high you’d get from cocaine but a pleasurable, calming sensation.
A nice little mental lullaby to put him to keep. ]
We’re gonna go far, Lloyd. Real far.
[ He closes his eyes, fingers still entangled in Lloyd’s hair. ]
[ It's easier than he wants it to be relaxing into Flagg the way he is. His chest is warm and solid at Lloyd's back, and the fingers running through his hair feel so damn good.
He hums in contentment, letting his eyes close. Lloyd focuses on the fingers, the way his scalp tingles when Flagg's hand passes over his head, and that calming, almost floating feeling. He doesn't really recall falling asleep, but when he wakes up, the sun is filtering through the broken blinds over the window and into his face. He still feels tired and warm to the point of being uncomfortable.
Squirming, he wiggles enough to free his arms, scrubbing his hands over his face to try and wake up just a bit more. He doesn't know what time it is, but does it really matter when the world is pretty much at their feet? ]
Ughh..How long was I out? [ It feels a lot longer than it probably was. ]
[ Time hasn't mattered to Flagg in a long, long while. He can basically keep track of it with sunrise and sunset but he's not counting. He measures time in significant events; however long it is from one great human tragedy to the next.
He looks at the light coming through the blinds. One might mistake it for sunrise, but they were facing west. It was almost sunset. ]
All day. Another hour and it'll be night. [ And it was the time of year here where the sun was out for over half the day, so Lloyd's slept fourteen hours at least. Resurrection takes a lot out of you. ]
Sleep well? [ Perhaps, Flagg thought, well enough that he'd be in a good mood despite...well, everything. His actions may have brought about Lloyd's death but they also brought him back to life, so what was the big deal? ]
[ Lloyd grunts in response, needing a moment to actually figure it out. He's in the same position he was in when he fell asleep, so that tells him he at least slept hard. He feels fine? His limbs are pleasantly heavy-feeling, though that's disappearing the longer he's awake. Hunger gnaws at his belly in a way that reminds him of that first day with no food. Running on empty, but okay. Nothing will ever compare to that, but brains are funny like that. ]
Guess I did if I slept all day. [ Rejuvenated, at least partially. ] Hungry as fuck, though.
[ In need of a shower and some clean clothes, for sure. He feels gross. Dirty in a way that he isn't sure whether it comes from his resurrection or sleeping in street clothes like he was sleeping off a hangover. And he had, hadn't he? Binging on shitty coke that didn't take him anywhere after a few drinks that failed to give him a buzz, and that too-warm feeling after properly waking. ]
[ He stretches out, his long legs almost hanging off the edge of the bed. Vegas was an oddity; a time when Flagg had a focused goal and a job to do. (Well, he always had a job, but his boss was millions of years old and considered him an outstanding employee if he worked one day every century or so.)
Right now, he was chill. Just going with the flow, baby. He doesn't stop to think about why that might not reassure Lloyd. He doesn't stop to think about much of anything, really.
In times like these he truly embodies chaos in its purest form. There's almost a glow about him, like a girl on her wedding day. ]
No plan, my man. Whatever we wanna do is fair game.
[ Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, Lloyd pushes himself into a seated position but doesn't get much further than that. His expression is confused when he meets Flagg's eye, and the implication doesn't set in for a few long moments. They can do whatever they want? Like.. whatever? Ideas come and go at lightning speed, and the limitless possibilities make it hard for him to decide where to even start. ]
I want a shower and some grub the most. [ He pauses, shifting to turn a little more toward Flagg. ]
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He liked to think that the 80's should be the primetime for cocaine, kinda like Scarface, but it's turning out to be a letdown. Trying to force the high to happen isn't working, either.. it's like being right on the fucking edge and not being able to climax. ]
Dunno 'bout that, it's kind of a let down.
[ Still..there's something kinda inviting about Flagg right now, and he takes the offered hand after removing his shoes, making himself comfortable. If he sidles up next to Flagg, it's only because he's extremely warm. ]
no subject
[ He pulls Lloyd in nice and close, running his fingers through his hair. Each stroke creates something like a high; not exactly the sort of high you’d get from cocaine but a pleasurable, calming sensation.
A nice little mental lullaby to put him to keep. ]
We’re gonna go far, Lloyd. Real far.
[ He closes his eyes, fingers still entangled in Lloyd’s hair. ]
no subject
He hums in contentment, letting his eyes close. Lloyd focuses on the fingers, the way his scalp tingles when Flagg's hand passes over his head, and that calming, almost floating feeling. He doesn't really recall falling asleep, but when he wakes up, the sun is filtering through the broken blinds over the window and into his face. He still feels tired and warm to the point of being uncomfortable.
Squirming, he wiggles enough to free his arms, scrubbing his hands over his face to try and wake up just a bit more. He doesn't know what time it is, but does it really matter when the world is pretty much at their feet? ]
Ughh..How long was I out? [ It feels a lot longer than it probably was. ]
no subject
He looks at the light coming through the blinds. One might mistake it for sunrise, but they were facing west. It was almost sunset. ]
All day. Another hour and it'll be night. [ And it was the time of year here where the sun was out for over half the day, so Lloyd's slept fourteen hours at least. Resurrection takes a lot out of you. ]
Sleep well? [ Perhaps, Flagg thought, well enough that he'd be in a good mood despite...well, everything. His actions may have brought about Lloyd's death but they also brought him back to life, so what was the big deal? ]
no subject
Guess I did if I slept all day. [ Rejuvenated, at least partially. ] Hungry as fuck, though.
[ In need of a shower and some clean clothes, for sure. He feels gross. Dirty in a way that he isn't sure whether it comes from his resurrection or sleeping in street clothes like he was sleeping off a hangover. And he had, hadn't he? Binging on shitty coke that didn't take him anywhere after a few drinks that failed to give him a buzz, and that too-warm feeling after properly waking. ]
So, what's the plan. There's a plan, right?
no subject
[ He stretches out, his long legs almost hanging off the edge of the bed. Vegas was an oddity; a time when Flagg had a focused goal and a job to do. (Well, he always had a job, but his boss was millions of years old and considered him an outstanding employee if he worked one day every century or so.)
Right now, he was chill. Just going with the flow, baby. He doesn't stop to think about why that might not reassure Lloyd. He doesn't stop to think about much of anything, really.
In times like these he truly embodies chaos in its purest form. There's almost a glow about him, like a girl on her wedding day. ]
No plan, my man. Whatever we wanna do is fair game.
no subject
I want a shower and some grub the most. [ He pauses, shifting to turn a little more toward Flagg. ]
There somethin' you wanna do?