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Test Drive Meme #2
You wake up in a closet. It's a nice enough one, clearly owned by someone with a large bedroom and too many clothes. There's a dim light on but no switch to make it brighter. As your eyes adjust and you come to the realization that this is probably not a dream, you notice you aren't alone. Locked in the closet with you is (at least) one other person who seems just as confused and disoriented as yourself.
On the door, you can both see a list with a possibly familiar title and a familiar set of rules; Seven Minutes In Heaven. The door will be locked for a probably very long seven minutes and it will not open no matter how much you try to force it. In the closet air is a hefty dose of aphrodisiacs that might be clouding your normal judgement. The longer you wait, the more you want to give in to the game.
Will they really let you out when the seven minutes are done? Or will the countdown start all over again until you consent? Only waiting will tell.
EDIT: Aphrodisiacs are OPTIONAL, not required. Also feel free to make your own scenarios, themes are merely for those wanting an idea.
oh heeeeeey
Who, me? Oh no. I was looking for a friend who's around here somewhere. Figured I'd try the coffee while I was at it.
[She gives a little laugh, flipping on the charm as she slides into the chair. It wasn't a full out lie - she was looking it just wasn't for anyone in particular.]
Besides, I always have a better time making a new friend rather than sitting off on my own. I'm Natalie.
[A hand extends across the table, her other still wrapped around her cup of coffee. The alias rolls off her tongue with a practiced grace, not trusting anyone in this coffee shop - not yet.]
no subject
That's the problem with women, especially ones that look like this one. Nobody deserves them, because they're too good. His dad sure as hell didn't deserve his mom, but she settled.
Idly, Gabriel wonders if the redhead around him realizes this. Probably not. Best to watch her find out the hard way. So he smiles, busies himself with the untouched, cold coffee mug. Puts it in both hands and pulls it towards him, kicking the chair opposite from him out.
Have a seat, Natasha, it's free, and-- ]
Natalie.
[ He's not a spy or anything of the sort, so he can't exactly hide his surprise at the name. Maybe it's just the familiar name, but Gabe feels a mighty strong urge to figure her out. What makes this Natalie tick? Is it the same? Is it different? ]
New, here, too, Natalie?
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