victormakesart | (no subject)

(no subject)

Victor led Rico over to the Muse's studio, bypassing the welcome mat and walking right in.

The Muse didn't take his eyes off of the painting that he was currently working on, containers full of paint scattered all around him. It looked like he was painting a person walking out of the water, but it was too early to be sure. His third arm painted wildly while his other two remained still at his sides. It was rather unnerving, even to Victor, who had watched him paint quite often.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Sounds like it." He hangs back to let the Muse lead the way.

He laughed and headed out of the door, grinning at the woman there. "Look lovely today, Miss Dolorous."

He held the door for Rico.

"Why thank you, Morrie," Rico says, grinning as he walks through the door. "How polite."

"You're quite welcome. I like the name Morrie. Thank you." He looked around, and up at the gray sky. "I try."

"You look like a Morrie." Rico looks up at the sky too. "Gonna thunder later," he says with absolute certainty. "Better grab the tacos and run."

He scanned the sky, spying the edge of a Taco Bell sign. "You think that's one?" he asked as he pointed.

"I'd bet on it." He starts walking down the street towards the delicious wafting scent of an American fast food chain.

"Groovy." He sauntered along, tightening his hold on his jacket.

This time it's Rico who holds open the door. As he waits for his companion to go in, he studies the menu thoughtfully.

"How much money did you say you had?"

"I've gotta twenty," he said glancing up at the menu.

Rico does some quick calculations in his head that are probably more or less correct. "All right, get me a number two and a five and a Coke. I'll go find a table."

"I'll have th' same." He twisted his head after him. "'Kay." He stood to the side and waited for their order to come up.

Rico finds a table and loads it up with napkins, straws, forks, and those little hot sauce packets. There's hardly enough room for the actual food.

((Mun need to work on a project. She'll be back later.))

((Sweet. What sorta project? Have fun!))

He balanced a tray over to the table with little difficulty; he was used to carrying things in spite of the obstructive bottle and cigarette.

((It's for school. Comprehensive overview of Word, Powerpoint, Excell, and Access. Boring as crap. :P))

Rico helps him set the tray down and says a quick blessing. "Rub a dub-dub, thanks for the grub. Now let's eat."

((Awww...that's gotta suck.))

"Amen and such." He grinned and put his food in a bag to eat later.

((Like a vacuum. >>))

Rico raises an eyebrow as he tears into a taco. "Not hungry right now?"

He sipped at his coke. "Can't use my hands. I'll eat later."

Rico nods and takes a bite. His salivary glands kick into high gear and he realizes: he hasn't eaten for almost a year now. That taco's gone in about twenty seconds.

He laughed and took another drink of coke.

Rico sticks his tongue out and starts rooting through the pile of hot sauce. He pulls out a couple packets marked "Towering Inferno of Hotness" and dumps them on his other taco. He then proceeds to eat the entire thing in two bites.

He laughed and stuck his tongue out too. "...Wow," he said, clearly impressed.

"'s eely gud," Rico comments from behind a mouth of taco. It takes him a couple minutes of careful manuevering before he can swallow without choking. He takes a giant swig of his Coke.

"Ahh. Hit the spot. What do you know, I was hungry after all."

"I'd figure so, yah. That's...neato, darlin'. Ne-e-e-eato like crazy." He heard thunder in the distance and he blinked in suprise.

Rico looks smug. "What'd I tell you? I can feel that stuff coming a mile away." He gathers up his trash and dumps it in one of the wastebins.