(no subject)

[katyafeline]

Katya has gradually become used to the idea of calling Milliways a home, of sorts - and now her room reflects that.  The anonymously boring bedsheets and blankets have been replaced by ones with riotous colors and textures - silks and velvets and thick wool.  Bookshelves have slowly crept their way in, filled with second-hand books in a veritable United Nations-worth of languages, all rubbing elbows together with no sense of general organization, interspersed with various trinkets - a long white feather, two floppy-eared cloth rabbit dolls with shiny black button eyes, a slightly chipped china teacup with a delicate design in blue and gold.

And of course the swords - several swords, of various ages and descriptions, hung up on the walls.  Her old collection is now long lost, but no one said she couldn't start again.

Of course, Katya isn't much in the mood for giving a tour and explanation at the moment.

Comments

[i_am_your_host]

And the Master of Ceremonies isn't much in the mood for clothing.

He leaves the bottle of vodka on the first flat surface available and shrugs off his leather coat, followed by the suspenders and the rumpled tuxedo shirt that was left halfway unbuttoned in a bohemian fashion (quicker to get it off that way, too). As he toes off his boots, he notices the myriad of colors and fabrics on the bed, and decides very much that he would like to be naked with Katya in all of that.