Poolside Banter
Roleplaying Log: Poolside Banter
Participants
IC Details
Synopsis:

Drake and Amelie meet up to chat by the pool

Other Characters Referenced:
IC Date: May 11, 2019
IC Location: New York
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 12 May 2019 00:32
Rating & Warnings:
NPC & GM Credits:
Associated Plots

The Baccarat hotel in New York isn't the -most- expensive hotel in the city. It was, in fact, the third most. Of course, Amelie liked to indulge in the best, but the views and the menu were simply better for her purposes this particular week. Perhaps she'd upgrade to greater luxury as her work was done, but for the moment there was a simply problem: one of her targets was stay at that hotel, in the very suite she would have prefered no less. How rude of them.

Left to ponder this, and in the midst of waiting for further information, it had been a suprise to recieve the call from Drake, but she didn't quite have the thought to go moving from the poolside just yet. Instead the woman waits, wrapped in her simple dark-blue two-piece swimsuit and sarong in the deckchair with her phone in hand. She'd given the address, now she simply had to wait.

* * *

Drake Riley didn't make her wait long. The girl has a gorgeous accent, a pretty face, and intriguing personality. He was happy enough just finding that she hadn't given him a fake number. But to find that she'd invited him to the pool only saw to him moving more quickly.

Drake arrives in short order, appearing in Amelie's field of view dressed for the occasion. His sleekly-toned upper-body has been left bare and open for anyone's viewing assessment, while the only article he wears is a pair of glossy emerald swimtrunks streaked in tribal marks. Over his left arm, he sports a folded overshot for modesty later, and in the right, a plain white towel.

Easily spotting the girl, he drops the items onto a nearby lounge chair and makes his way towards her. "Definitely more a fan of seeing the picture in person," he muses. He isn't even sure she'll remember the reference. But he comes to a stop before her chair, head tipped and trying not to /too/ obviously check her out with surreptitious glances.

* * *

Killer with killer looks, the assassin was quite the sight to behold. At least it was unlikely she was armed when she was wearing this outfit, but then as far as Drake knew? She was just another artistic professional…likely one with a little too much payment for her work given the place she was staying. At his arrival? She lowers her phone and sips her fruity drink at by her side.

"Welcome," she greets in her accented tones, noting his own attire and giving a soft grin. "Intending to come here for a swim too then?" she asks lightly, "What if I was about to ask you to show me around town?" There was a tease to her words, one that remains as she gestures to his swimsuit. "Did you tell the desk you were staying here?"

* * *

"Figured they didn't need to know," chimes Drake with a coy lift of an eyebrow. "And if you asked me to do that, I'd suggest the best sights are already right here." He nods towards her indicatively. A better flirt than what he'd been saying back at the cafe, he hopes!

And then he realizes that he used the plural and sincerely Hope's she doesn't think he meant her boobs. Oh God. Oh lord. Please let him be overthinking this.

"A-anyway, I hope you don't mind? I can go change…"

* * *

She laughs softly, accent carrying to that little noise of joy before she leans back against the chair and gestures for him to find a seat of his own. "If that is the case, I'm not sure if I'm flattered for myself or disappointed for the city," she murmers, another sip of her drink taken before she gestures towards the pool's still water. "At the very least," she muses and closes her eyes, "it is a comfortable enough spot to lounge and enjoy. If you're going to pretend to be a guest, you might as well get yourself a drink."

* * *

"Ahh, I'm good on the drinks..," Drake says, a hint of caution in his voice. He doesn't want to draw attention to himself. But he does snag a nearby chair and pull it closer to hers before turning to sit in it.

She leans back, and he spares another glance over her. It can't be helped. He can blame her for it. But as he sits, it's more 'side-saddle', facing her.

"Planning on getting in the water?," he asks innocuously. glancing aside at it before looking back to her. "I'd hate to seem boring and have ya done off." A teasing smile edges his lips. She looks too comfortable, you know.

* * *

"Ah," Amelie muses, perhaps noticing something for the first time or musing on the thought. "I sometimes forget about the age of restriction in this country," she murmers, chuckling softly before tilting her head to the side. "Perhaps water then, or a soda?" Chuckling to herself, she reopens her eyes and then looks towards Drake where he rests against the edge of his own chair.

"Did you wish to go for a swim then?" she questions, setting her drink down on the floor beside her. "I suppose if it is the only luxury of this place you can get away with sampling you might as well."

The accented woman tilts her head. "You will still need to show me about the city some time."

* * *

* OOC Time: Fri May 10 23:34:51 2019 *

* * *

Drake Riley gives one of those internal, hopefully unnoticed cringes that just reaches his eyes regardless. Is he that much younger than her? He hadn't really thought about it. The French girl is particularly pretty, her accent is like damn honey, and she looks killer in a bikini. Any age difference to him seemed minor. But now that it seems to be highlighted… is he really overshooting, here? Making a fool of himself?

The options she lists somehow just amplifies the gap. He shakes his head quickly. "No. I mean- that's not really what I meant, anyway. You just don't wanna chat up the staff if you don't want'em to pay attention to you," he explains, partially under his breath.

He looks out at the water, suddenly not sure he should even be looking at her the way he has been. "Uh, yeah. I can play tour guide sometime. And, y'know, ah- whatever you wanna do. S'fine." Awkward.

* * *

She notes the drop, the shift in his demeanor and the looking away. One didn't need hyper-perception to pick up on that change. Hell, she could -see- someone's pulse change, let alone a mood shift. "A fair point. Perhaps I shouldn't encourage misbehaving in you. Mischief should come from oneself after all."

She comes up to her feet, one single smooth elegant movement, the French woman pulls at the tie for her sarong, letting it fall to the floor and stretching her arms over her head. "Well then," she offers. "Care to join me?"

* * *

She stands. The sarong is untied. Her arms raise above her head.

Drake might be feeling weird about it, but of course his eyes are on her, taking her in. Surely that level of preening wasn't on accident, right? She seems like a woman who's aware of her surroundings; of her place in an occupied space. She had to know his eyes would be on her. Right? That's the sort of move /he'd/ pull if he were trying to draw eyes onto his physique, anyway. Maybe it's just him. Maybe it's a guy thing.

Crap, we're back to not knowing how to decode women.

Drake is already on his feet again, and stepping up beside her. "Sure."

You know what? Screw it.

"After you!"

His hands move to her midback, and he attempts to playfully push her into the pool!

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