{ota} all the right moves

[longingforthenight]

Kritika can usually be found in different places in the Spades castle curled up with her laptop. During hours on her shifts, of course, she's sure to stay close to Katya's office. Either way, she's often doing work of some sort.

... yes, looking through online catalogs counts. In her defense, it's her birthday in two months, and she needs to choose sari colors before then. "What do you think?" she'll ask to whoever passes by.

((ooc: tag please? ♥))

Comments

[longingforthenight]

"Shut up, Rap," she protests. "Everyone has been saying 'oh, that's so bold, that's too bright, that's incredibly garish', and now you come and call my gorgeous muted selections funeral-like. I give up."

[messire_messer]

He rolls his eyes and sighs obnoxiously hard, flapping his lips with the force of it. "Then what are you asking for, mm? Let us all go and make up your mind without our opinions coming left and right to sway you."

[longingforthenight]

"But I would like to know what people think." She bites her lip, one hand going to tug at her ponytail. "I'd just prefer for everyone to be less contradictory."

[messire_messer]

He snorts, leaning over the desk. "That is like herding sheep, dovey. People can't help but be contradictory. At best you could take the most commonly agreed choice in a poll."

[longingforthenight]

"I suppose you're right. As it stands, you're the only one going for brighter colors, though - so don't complain if I show up in something 'funeral-like'," she tells him, shrugging.

[messire_messer]

Oh the drama. Oh the flopping on her desk and then wincing because he's getting poked by pens. At least, he hopes it's pens. Given their Suit, it could very well be worse. "I shan't say a word about your clothing. About everyone else's taste, though..."

[longingforthenight]

"I know, I know, it's terrible. But I'm taking a vote, remember," she teases. "Unless you can wrangle people into coming up to me and voting green and gold."

[messire_messer]

He props himself up on his elbows, chin balanced on the backs of his hands. "Really. Who all's been voting against me, so I know not to bother?"

[longingforthenight]

"Chives. Ivona. Sort-of Jordan - he just pointed out issues with embroidery." She thinks a moment, then nods. "That's it. Other than that, you're free to run wild."

[messire_messer]

There's a tsk for each one of them, loudest of all for Chives. He doesn't assume it's Declán; he simply tsks because it's a Chives. "Easy enough with such a short list."

He hops to his feet, throwing her a lazy salute. "Worry not, we'll see your birthday in a veritable rainbow of colours."

[longingforthenight]

"You're my favorite," she promises, hand pressed to heart. "Don't tell Declán."

[messire_messer]

He drags his hand across his mouth to zip it as he's out the door. "Shan't breathe a word."