4229/Arthur Comes to Admire the Titan Tower Architecture

Arthur Comes to Admire the Titan Tower Architecture
Date of Scene:	27 November 2020
Location:	Eastside - St. Martin's Island
Synopsis:	Arthur takes Koriand'r to the boardwalk and tries to renege in a game of truth or dare!
Cast of Characters:	Arthur Curry, Koriand'r

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Arthur Curry has posed:
    For a time, when the Justice League was new and knew so very little about the powerful beings who were involved in its workings, there was some conjecture as to who they were, and how they functioned. For a time some of them considered them like the ancient gods, with how they seemed so elemental in their own ways. How they each embodied an aspect that would be at home in one pantheon or another. It seemed as likely as anything at the time, with how the members of the league behaved and functioned it was feasible.
    Especially when it came to the one that the media dubbed Aquaman. He seemed so like Poseidon with his trident, that brilliant armor, the way he would seem to enter a body of water and then reappear out of another only minutes later and a thousand miles away. There were some to this day that felt he was an elemental being, who could dissolve his form in water and then reassemble it elsewhere instantly. Clearly some form of water creature!
    Yet the explanation was all the more mundane. For Arthur simply... could swim very very fast. Which helped him leave his home in Maine and then be down the coastline in a few minutes, stepping out of the water on one of the small beaches along the South side of the island, emerging with water dripping from his form even as he brushes a glowing golden hand over the lay of his overshirt and t-shirt, causing the fabric to warm and the water to dissipate even as on that beach some of the evening's onlookers are watching with surprise.
    "Hey." Is the greeting they're given as he strolls up the sandy beach, heading towards the green slats of wood in the ground that serve as a pathway off the shore. Another couple eyeballs him as he walks past and he gives them a thumbs up as he says in a tone of voice that is perhaps a touch annoyed at the attention, "Enjoy your evening."
    There. That's friendly. The new Arthur as Diana advised. Yet his path as he strolls, his ripped jeans drying out as well now and those work boots leaving heavy tromping footprints in the sand, leads not to the city proper. But instead to that large T building down the way.

Koriand'r has posed:
    It's a gentle evening for St. Martin's Island. It's cold, of course, but when there's been snowfall it's been too warm to actually stick to the ground. It's the type of weather that calls for a jacket and jeans. The type of weather where people on the beach stay out of the water, and stroll along the white sands--save for those few daredevils that long to feel the rolling waves splash between their toes and to get that true grit feel of a beach down beneath their feet.
    To stay warm, Koriand'r needed little else other than her bare skin. And yet experience has taught her that people tend to appreciate it when she adorns the appropriate amount of clothing. This included wearing the correct number of clothing articles in winter, which she understood to be at least three layers. And so she wore them all. A shirt, a vest, and a jean jacket capping over the top with a fur trimmed collar and wrists. The jeans she wore clung to her legs like a second skin, and tan knee-high boots cover her from the shins down.
    A certain amount of time was spent in front of the mirror to inspect herself. To change small aspects. Bracelets? Necklaces? This was the exciting part of Earthling fashion, trying to figure out which pieces best accent what in accordance with what was in vogue or not. To some extent it's part of her dedication to assimilation. But for the most part, it's just one of those things that finds fun, in the same way others might find performing sudoku puzzles fun.
    There was a third part to it all. One that she was stubbornly refusing to acknowledge to herself. That in focusing on this, it kept her in the present. Instead of...
    ...Well. She's not going to acknowledge it. Not even in meta posing!
    ANYWAYS.
    By the time Arthur is in sight of the Titan Tower, he has already been spied. Identified. And targeted. Koriand'r is the barest streak in the glowing Autumn sun as it starts to settle in low-hanging clouds as she lifts off from the tower's roof, and starts to barrel down with increasing speed toward the meandering Atlantean. He gets a single warning of, "Arthur Curry!" before he is slammed with a hug that is slung about his torso. All 176 lbs. collide straight into his chest, and she is not a single bit apologetic about it.

Arthur Curry has posed:
    Considering the speed that the Tamaranean is hurtling at, the rush of movement, the build up of force in her rather tall form... it is an appreciable thing. Even for an individual as strong as Arthur Curry. Enough so that when she gives that announcement of her arrival it is a good thing he had espied her approach with that trail of flame seeming to flare harmlessly off the back of her hair. Then moments later she was hurtling into him impacting with a /whuf!/ as his arms spread to catch her.
    It's enough to get him to stagger back a step, but only the one as his strong arms embrace her and give a hearty hug as he laughs and manages to stay upright.
    "Hey, Kori." Another laugh but more a rumble deep in his chest as he draws her up, one arm around her waist the other between her shoulder blades, just enough for him to brush fingers affectionately along the nape of her neck as he turns to try and meet her eyes all while she is holding onto him.
    "I made it." The words delivered gently, and then he leans in close for a touch of lips to hers, a first kiss of greeting that he'll let ease toward a passionate thing before he breaks it long enough to tell her. "Did I keep you waiting long?"

Koriand'r has posed:
    The redhead sticks to him like a barnacle. A very adorable barnacle but a barnacle nonetheless, so that when he staggers, it is not only his weight that he's attempting to catch, but her own as well. His feet catch on the concrete path that winds up through wooden benches and scenic park views, and Koriand'r clings, giving a soft, "Mmmm," sound that just occurs naturally during good, warm, full-bodied hugs. It is essence almost like an echo to the rumbling chuckle that vibrates through his chest.
    The skim of his fingers against her neck that prompt her to look at the Atlantean directly rather than squeezing her cheek into firm shoulder. Their eyes connect, and Kori's eyelids grow heavy, red lashes fluttering down against her cheeks as at first their lips connect. And there might even be a slight parting, enough for their breath to feather their faces, before Koriand'r--or perhaps the both of them together?--before they press themselves more firmly together, so that it's not just a matter of lips, but of teeth, pressure, and /maybe/ the faintest, devious brush of tongue before she draws back with a winsome smile.
    "When did you call?" Is the bright answer to his question. "Since then."
    Her feet are already moving, and she's drawn herself free from his arms, but with both her hands sliding down the length of his arm, to reach his wrist to tug him by. "Did you want to come into the Tower? We still do not have a gift shop. It is an idea that I imagine will not receive the 'go', as it is said. But I can show you the inside, and I can introduce you to others?"

Arthur Curry has posed:
    The kiss was returned well and for a time it seemed to offer the temptation of just staying there, enjoying, indulging, before Arthur is drawn back to the here and now. Summoned forth by her words his lips curl into a smile even as he feels her pulling him along by one hand. Strong enough to gethim to lope forward into motion a few steps then easily falling into stride alongside her. He picks up the pace enough so they are walking side by side, her hands on his arm and his free hand resting on hers giving a gentle squeeze.
    "I could." Come into the tower if she liked. "I mean no gift shop, that is a bit of a let down." A casual joke he'd make with almost anyone but likely when he sees Kori perhaps starting to take it seriously he smiles and pulls her closer as they walk. "I'm kidding. Sure that'd be cool. A look around and then we can go get something to eat?"
    That last statement is given with a quirked eyebrow as he looks sidelong at her. One might get the impression that Arthur... isn't big on plans. Tends to freeform it mostly it seems.

Koriand'r has posed:
    Oh, she's about to pout at that! There's already the, "But..." on her lips as they gain way on the path. And she probably has more before she's pulled warmly into his side. She's mollified by learning that he was just teasing, and it ends with her picking back up that same bright smile as before, as she promises him: "We have Rockband in the entertainment room," which in her book, is probably just about as good as a giftshop. The tower looms more and more impressively over the land the closer they get to it. It's no where near imposing as the skyscrapers within the city proper--the kind that make a person feel downright dizzy just from standing at their base. Yet it's big. It's proud. It's /hers/. She treats it as such as she welcomes Arthur into the main foyer, announcing it proudly as her home.
    The tour of the facilities is subsequently brief, in the same manner that it would be if someone else was showing off their own private home. A, 'Here's the kitchen,' a, 'here's the sitting room,' and a, 'there's the war room'--neither of which she actually gives the man a chance to mosey about in. Just a quick point of the finger. A brief jaunt over to get to the next hallway, and then she points out the most important feature of the Titan Tower: the elevator.
    "Everything is through here," she mentions, pulling Arthur into the elevator with her momentarily by the front of his shirt with both hands. With the sultry eyes. The, 'kiss me here and now' eyes, as she pushes him back into one of the metal panel walls within. And it might mean certain danger for him if she weren't so easily distracted. For once he's backed into the wall she looks over toward the panel and releases him entirely. The panel which has more than 11 buttons on it. Curious! One swipe of the hand, and GLOW! Every single one of those buttons light up.
    But she's quick to press the little opener thing to keep the door ajar!
    "That is for another time! Right now, I am more excited about going places with you. Than going upstairs. Although. There is a roof top. And there is a place to rest up there. It is not same beauty as at your lighthouse, but it has its own. You will come again in the future, right?" This question is followed with a starry-eyed look as she lures him free from windowed elevator to exit the building once more with a curl of her fingers.

Arthur Curry has posed:
    It is a whirlwind of movement as Arthur is brought along, and to his credit he keys to the vibe. The wandering is shown, places are announced, and he does a good job of giving nods and smiles, grinning perhaps more at her enthusiasm than the quality of the place and their pretty impressive facilities all told. I mean, it's no Moon Base to be sure, but still. Not bad.
    Yet he does pay attention, engages with her when she tells him aspects of things. Like inquiring about the war room and if they ever used that, or if the sitting room was only for sitting. Things along those lines and she might get the feeling that he does tease a little here or there. Just a little. But then it's into that elevator...
    And he thumps against that wall, meeting her eyes with that amber gaze of his own, his teeth digging into his lower lip for an instant as his irises convey a sentiment that whispers of kisses and more. There might even be a moment of lips brushing before the elevator is enough of a distraction. All the buttons lighting up has him laughing, especially when she tells him her plans.
    "Well that's good, I'm sure your teammates will appreciate us tying up the elevator for... who knows how long?" Definitely a different vibe than the League in some ways. But hey.
    "But sure. We can spend some time here soon if you want." He looks past her shoulder for a moment in the direction of the building as they leave it. "I'll even cook."
    But those are thoughts for another time as they stroll. "For now though, this is your stomping ground. Where's good to go?" And as they walk they do get a few errant glances. Gazes drawn, cellphones produced to snap a few quick pix of even video. Up on Social Media a few entries flash to life without them knowing. 'Starfire and Heavy Metal musician!' or 'Starfire and some rock band roadie!' or even 'Yay Starfire is helping some homeless guy!' Though that last might be more tongue in cheek.
    Though their aesthetic as a couple... is definitely unique.

Koriand'r has posed:
    Koriand'r is generous in the sense that when the cellphones come out, she offers a piece of herself freely--granted, if she notes them. Arthur consumes her attention mostly... he has a sense of gravity, in the sense that a flame holds gravity for a moth, but from the corner of her eye if she notes someone watching with their phone? She'll offer them a wave! A bright smile! Her presence in St. Martin's is frequent, and so the fanfare of her being public isn't that would it could be.
    "There is the boardwalk along the water front," Koriand'r suggests melodically, keeping one arm wrapped on Arthur's with ease and comfort of someone that has fully begun to relax into their surroundings and going-ons. Between being a public figure and the quiet moments where it seems people are being polite enough not to stare. "There are carnival games. Places where you can buy food to feed the pigeons. A theme park on the docks." She holds her tongue between the teeth temporarily to parse a thought to herself and then she murmurs, "There are a lot of people... It is not like your little town by the lighthouse. Is this the sort of thing you would normally do in your free time?" It's the type of question where the answer is already assumed in the question. Attached to it is a mild mannered concern. "I want you to enjoy yourself! It can be a lot like... Hmm! It can be a lot like one of those giant pits with plastic balls, if you imagine everyone else around you as the balls. Colorful human-shaped balls."

Arthur Curry has posed:
    To be fair Arthur is a public figure as well. Just more... tends to fade into the background since he's often around other more prominent folks. A guy in blue and red spandex, or black and grey grimness, or just for that matter Diana. But put him in a place where there is a woman of such beauty as Kori and he quickly, at least to the minds of the world's social media becomes a bit more relegated to the role of arm-candy.
    Which is actually kinda nice.
    Since Kori seems so at home amongst the people of the neighborhood and the city that Titans Tower stands proudly over. What is more... Kori's enthusiasm is infectious. So as they stroll along the tall man smiles wryly and even at one point gets into the vibe by giving a wave as well when she poses for a camera. Though assuredly social media is going to tag him and then tongues will start to wag about the Aquaguy and the Alien.
    "I used to love those." Arthur says off hand as they walk, "Ball pits I mean." Then his eyebrows lift as his gaze distances, "And carnivals and boardwalks too."
    He grins sidelong and squeezes her hand gently. "But I mean in my free time?" She can likely see a few answers flit through his thoughts, with the way his eyes slip to the side before he answers with surprisingly the truth. "I'd mainly go out and go drinking with friends, catch up with old acquaintances, hang out."
    There's a beat and then he adds with a smirk, "Or sing with a friend of mine's band. Like little more than glorified karaoke." There. She is given a small window into Arthur's life beyond the norm.

Koriand'r has posed:
    "Used to? When you were young, you mean?" It's about at that point, with her asking for clarification not only with her voice, but with her curious eyes, that they round the pathway into a sidestreet that feeds into the boardwalk proper. Here on the street people are just as prone to gawk as they were elsewhere, but there's a certain amount of cloaking to be in a place that's more densely populated. Already, there is the far off scent of fried things that sticks in the air. Corndogs. Funnel cakes. Deep fried pickles. Onion rings. And just a hint of fishiness from the boardwalk seafood locales. Those type of things. Without needing a map a normal, everyday tourist could find the row of boardwalk restaurants and festivities just by sticking their nose up in the air and having a sniff.
    "You sing!" This? This absolutely delights her! To the point that she practically skip ahead out of arm reach to walk backwards while facing him. Just so that she can see his glorious face. "I wish I had known before! I could have taken you to the Sing Sing. And then I could have begged you to serenade me." A devious little grin stays wrapped on her expression, her dextrous footing certain, though with the occasional glance back to make sure that she's not about to walk into someone or something. "What type of music? Who is the friend? Do you do it at the Black Betty?" She'd forgotten what the actual name of the restaurant was. But the questions will keep coming if he doesn't start answering! His fault, really, for offering a modicum of truth. Giving cookies to mice is a dangerous affair.

Arthur Curry has posed:
    "Yeah," Arthur answers as he walks along, "When I was about yea high." He holds his free hand out about to waist height, smirking a little sardonically. "Each Autumn a carnival would come to town before the first snow. Reminds me of this place kinda." The Atlantean looks around as they walk, lifting his chin as he motions to the corndogs, the fried foods, his head tilting back to her as he smiles.
    "Ran around, ate tons of food bad for me, candy, played a bunch of crooked carnival games. Won a teddy bear or two."
    But then she /leaps/ forth, exulting in the knowledge of him and his obviously wonderful deep baritone voice that must sound /wonderful/ while singing. "I dunno if you'd call it... /singing/ per se." Arthur smirks as he strolls along, hands in his pockets now that she's ahead of him. And like waves breaking on the stone outcroppings that surround his home, the crowd parts before the tall redhead even as she walks backwards.
    "More shouting with style, maybe. Then again maybe I'm flattering myself."
    He picks up the pace and as she plies him with such questions he answers as he can, "Just old friends from home. Rock music mostly, and noooo." He laughs at the idea of singing at Betty's Diner.
    "There's a bar down off of MLK boulevard, The Twin Sails. Every Wednesday." He does even worse than offer her tidbits of truth. He gives her realistic times and possible expectations!

Koriand'r has posed:
    "So small and precious!" Koriand'r keens! Clapping her hands together in front of herself to punctuate the sentence, and then as the crowd becomes denser ahead of them as they move onto the boardplanks, she pivots about, moving back to take Arthur's hand by the fingers for that maintenance of connection. To feel the pleasure of his work roughened fingers slide through her own slender digits. It's a light hold, and even that sort of transient touch, that's not quite a squeeze and still a ... something--it's enough to warm her cheeks, to bring a stupid grin on her face. To look like she's positively glowing. "Tamaran did not experience seasons such as Earth does, through celebration and rejoicing. There were, however, tournaments based on combat prowess and festivities based around eager consumption of food." And then in a smaller voice. "It would have been nice to receive rewards such as teddy bears. There are many reasons why I prefer this as my home," and the fact that teddy-bears can be gotten from small feats of dexterity and luck just happen to be among that list, given the way her voice carries with longing when she says that.
    She picks the restaurant with little forethought. Surely, surely Arthur might have preferred something or anything other than seafood. But alas. That's what she picks. "I have not been to this one." The Fishhead Craft Brewery & Eats. She stands outside of the location's entrance, gesturing toward it by pointing her free finger at the open door and chalk billboard sign just outside, listing off the specials within. And then she gives him that dollish look. That pleading look. That, 'Please,' expression that is oh-so-hard to resist.
    Once inside, amongst a plethora of sea embellished decorations, like netting, plank boards, ship steers, and all that nonsense, they are seated away into a booth, in which sails into the seat with ease, already beginning to shimmy out of the jacket on her arms, now that she can free herself from at least one layer of accoutruements. It cushions around her back and frames her within the booth.
    "That was an invitation, right?" she confirms, seeming to randomly go back to what they'd been speaking about while walking. "I would love to come watch! And to meet your friend. Is it someone froooom...?" She's fishing for more information!

Arthur Curry has posed:
    "Well heck," The tall man at her side grins, and it's clear that Kori's mood is an infectious thing. Not just for Arthur but the way she laughs and smiles and almost dances likely causes people to brighten, enjoying sharing the sentiment though likely not entirely sure why she's so happy.
    But at the thought of a tiny Arthur he rolls his eyes a bit but keys on her desire for a teddy-bear, "Well see there, we'll try and win one before we leave today." And thus their fate is sealed. At least for the next few hours.
    But then they are off, his stride even with hers as they stroll across the boardwalk, heading to the restaurant she's chosen. And hey, Seafood isn't bad. But the /Brewery/ part. Now that is nice. "Sure, that looks good. I'll get the chicken." Which, small fact, any good seafood restaurant does an excellent chicken dish if only for the non-seafood loving people. It's a fact.
    He grabs the door, pulling it open with a faint jangle of a bell from inside. Then he holds it for her to precede him. "Someone from Amnesty Bay, yes." Which narrows it down some, but not really. Then it's into that muted lighting of the interior, amongst the... alright fairly kitschy nautical decor. But it's nothing new to him really. Arthur is something of a connoisseur of bad yet good seafood restaurants.

Koriand'r has posed:
    "It has to be one of the big ones!" Koriand'r throws her arms out wide to indicate just how big we're talking here. And it turns out the size is Cost-Co teddy bear size. The ones that basically have to be lugged around like an extra human body. And then, she quickly compacts herself by retreating her arms inward and locking her fingers underneath her chin as leans excitedly into the table. "I have an entire corner in my room that has every capacity to be filled by something giant, cuddly, and huggable." Each one an important trait.
    Beneath the table she starts to get comfortable by crossing long, lean legs and scooching the one foot that's on the floor into Arthur's. Contact! And as he gets settled, and menus are served up by a waiter--to whom she beams a brilliant smile at--there is a moment of silence as Koriand'r peruses the options. Unfolded so that all three inner panels are faced to her, she catches her chin by her hand and lowers her eyes across each individual offering, indecisive.
    Her lips shift. She seems to be considering something important. Something grandiose. Something all-consuming. Eyes still on the menu, she speaks with slow distinction and finality, "Truth or dare."

Arthur Curry has posed:
    "No pressure." Arthur says as Kori makes that wide gesture encompassing almost the entire world in the depths of that one single teddy bear he is now tasked to win. Yet he then points at her sidelong with a fingergun, "And no promises." He gives a knowing nod to her while holding her gaze as if to try and mitigate her expectations. And likely failing.
    But once they're in the restaurant it doesn't take them long to get settled, nestled into a booth with them sitting opposite, and her almost /immediately/ going for the leg bump, which... to be fair, is understandable considering their heights. Yet he seems content to leave his calf against hers like holding hands and maintaining that contact just for that feel of proximity and connection.
    Almost instantly he closes the menu and announces, "Chicken fried steak." Brilliant. But then she looks up with that look akin to someone announcing the most dour of news. Which, in one way, it is.
    'Truth or dare.' She says.
    And his eyes almost /roll/ out of his head, but they're accompanied and sent on their way by a small laugh and him giving a shake of his noggin as he murmurs. "That's not fair, you are so out there you'll do any dare." It's like having all the Wild Draw 4 cards in Uno.
    "Truth." He says solemnly.

Koriand'r has posed:
    One might be deterred by the tactical eye roll, but Koriand'r is used to such maneuvers. If anything, it encourages her, because she gets rather tickled about it in such an effervescent way that one might suspect that if she weighed a penny less she might be floating out of her seat. "Those that are crippled in their choices must improvise with creativity and great cunning. As Raven has once said, it is about finding the weakness of an individual and making them suffer for it." Wow.
    Just then the waiter happens to stop by. Without skipping a beat, Koriand'r scooches toward that side of the booth so that she can better adjust and show the menu to point off exactly what she wants. "This, this, and this, and this." Which happens to be some type of appetizer platter, coconut fried shrimp, and then a beer from tap and then a fruity cocktail drink. "Oh, and water! Please." She offers this last word up sweetly in such a way that makes the young teen waiter give a slight stammer and blush ("Y-yes, Ma'am!"), and this seems to please Koriand'r in a contented way--and it looks like he's about to go with that, since she basically ordered enough food for too, before she calls out, "Oh! And he must give his--"
    While the waiter stumbles back around to take Arthur's portion of the order (not without wiping the back of his hand to his forehead), Koriand'r once threads her fingers together and studies Arthur while he's distracted. In the same way that there's a distinct difference between a lynx and a regular maine coone, there's something gamy and intense in his expression. Whether it's the distinct interruption of his left brow, the sun-bleached, and salt tangled wildness of his hair, or just the fact that he looks like he could easily carry two people on his shoulders and not be bothered. It's all... butterfly inducing. Just to be across from him.
    After the waiter moves on with their order, she continues to just hold his gaze for half a minute, with a broadening quirk to her lips. "Something easy, for first. Describe your first kiss to me. Where it was. Who it was with. Details. Did it make your foot pop, and your brain fuzzy?"

Arthur Curry has posed:
    "Raven, huh?" Arthur says with that same incredulity knowing he's playing catchup at the moment, but not seeming to mind it much at all. He does, however, liberate some of the seasoned oil and the basket of bread, pulling both of them into the middle of the table for them to partake while he casually pulls apart some carbs and lightly dips them in the oil.
    Then the waiter saunters on over and Arthur sort of half-smiles as she works her Kori-Magic, strong enough that either she's getting the best cooked dishes in the restaurant for the night, or else he's going to completely forget the order and come back to ask it again and again. Either way, the Atlantean seems amused.
    "Chicken fried steak, fella." He then hands the menu over, "And the house brew sampler thing?"
    Which sends the waiter off on his way all the while Koriand'r is watching the older hero with his wry almost roguish look. Then he turns his attention back to her and seems about to say something...
    When she meets his gaze, their smiles remain level and shared, eyes linger. Then she asks her question.
    Which causes him to smile. "My first kiss to you? Well you were there weren't you?" He plays at not understanding, and waits until she seems like she might be about to correct him before having a 'revelation'. "Ohhh, you mean my first kiss like ever."
    Then he clarifies, "My first romantic kiss I assume." See, he knows all the evil linguistic tricks for playing Truth or Dare. But he keeps to the spirit of the question. "Jennifer Bortel, grade 6. I had a crush on her the whole school year. We went on a field trip together, she got scared and some guys made fun of her." His lip twists, "I was so gallant, and stood up or her. Even though I was..." Arthur's eyes lift upwards, gaze distancing as he recalls that old memory. "Think I was about five foot tall and she was five foot nine. So it was kinda comical I imagine. But I felt like Lancelot. And then she rewarded me with a kiss on the school bus on the way home. Over the back of the seat."
    Arthur's eyes glimmer with amusement as he looks away, nibbling at his lower lip as perhaps nostalgia plays behind that amber gaze. "She just turned around, leaned over, grabbed my cheeks and planted one on me. And then..."
    He takes a bite of his bread, chews a little before answering. "She used her tongue. And freaked me all out. I had no idea that was a thing. The end. Your turn. Truth or Dare."

Koriand'r has posed:
    He doesn't get a chance to correct himself before Koriand'r gives him a shove underneath the table with her foot! It's not sharp enough to be a kick, nor hard enough. It's just her pressing the ball of her booted foot into his shin with clemency, and pocketing air in her cheeks like an angry chipmunk momentarily, until he stops trying to be a jerk! And then she sits upright when he actually gets to it. The story, that is.
    She gives him a wide-eyed, mirthful look as he gives the detail about tongue! She doesn't bother to hold back her giggle as it bubbles out of her, and she murmurs, "My first kiss did not go nearly as smooth. I distinctly remember it being when I was rather young. And it was with another boy that I was training with. It was more of a nasty trick than anything. We were supposed to be playing a game. I closed my eyes for it. And then I felt it..." She unlaces her fingers to gently run her index pad against her bottom lip as though she could remember the way it physically felt. "I think I was too young to be flattered by it. Instead I felt cheated and angry. He laughed afterward, and then I chased him..."
    She thinks a few more seconds on that memory, when the first round of drinks are served. She ignores the beer and goes straight for the frozen margarita, which is in a HUGE glass. Limey, salt-crusted goodness. A tasting sample is had, a small 'Mmm,' is expressed, and then she sets the glass down on the table soundly. "Dare," she challenges.

Arthur Curry has posed:
    That has him pondering as he looks at her and looks, silently chewing that bit of bread then swallowing as he considers what exactly a Koriand'r dare would look like that she wouldn't do. But then this sly wicked look sloooowly eases over his features as he brushes the toe of his boot along the smooth curve of her calf.
    "A dare then, alright."
    Touching his hand to the surface of the table, fingers splayed as if he were creating a cage as he explains his dastardly plan like some super villain before his minions. "I, Arthur Curry, dare you. Princess Koriand'r. To win a teddy bear. For /me/." That said he lifts his hand and points at her while turning his head to the side, one eye narrowing as if he were putting one of Zatanna's whammies on her.
    Then he adds, "Take that."

Koriand'r has posed:
    That sly grin of his does all manner of wicked things to Koriand'r, from making her heart palpitate against her chest, to making her throat run so that reaches for his drink again, even as he starts to drag the toe of his shoe in such a way as to carve out the feel of her calf through jeans and boot. And yet there is very little regret in her choice made. No second-guessing. No intimidation. Not even when he goes straight into the formalities of it all, splaying his thick hands across the table and all.
    If anything, she leans into it. Egging it on. Encouraging it with a twinkle in her eye and a certain bravado--
    Only to be dared to get him a stuffed bear.
    "Even if I spend all of my money," she promises solemnly over the salted rim of her margarita, "even if wild horses try to drag me from the boardwalk, and even if X'hal should shine down in firey wrath, I will get you that teddy bear which you so desire. Arthur Curry. Prince of Atlantis."
    She settles back down in her seat! "Your turn."

Arthur Curry has posed:
    "I shall hold you bound to this obligation." The tall, albeit scruffy looking man says that with some solemnly even as he pulls the rack of four smaller beers and tilts one into its sampler glass. A dark ale that seems to be a bit heady, though he lifts it, sniffs it, then takes a swallow and downing it with a glassy clink before he turns back to her. "See, I have nothing to fear. I am an open book. The easy answer would be to offer another truth."
    He leans back in the booth's seat, broad muscular arms spreading along the back of that bench, looking as if he were holding court as opposed to sharing a drink and a meal with a paramour. "Yet this is how confident I am. I shall choooooose."
    Those amber eyes narrow as he looks at her, smiling as the tension playfully builds between them. And then he says it.
    "Dare."

Koriand'r has posed:
    "But I do not know enough truths about you yet to fathom a solid dare yet," Koriand'r pouts, and she shrinks back into her side of the booth as though she'd been dealt a significantly unfair deal. Her lips purse and she considers her drinks in front of her briefly. Then her eyes divert to outside the window their booth faces, where people draw back and forth outside, some of them hand in hand, some of them moseying alongside as a family.
    Then she considers the internal decor of the place. Still trying to find hints of what she might utilize, scrunching up her face in the process as she -really- starts to deep think.
    When the idea is upon her, she springs upright like an bunny that has been taken by surprise. And at first she is so excited, so taken with her idea that she seems at a loss for how to form words around it, stroking a hand through her flaming hair and then looking back up at Arthur with her verdant gaze.
    "I."
    She rolls her shoulders back all nice and proper. "I dare you to hold court as you-know-who," and then she mouths the word rather than speak his name outloud ('Aquaman'), "trident and all... With a full interview and autographing within the city."
    She looks /pleased/ with herself when she finishes, lofting her chin at him to greater heights and folding her arms in front of herself on the table.

Arthur Curry has posed:
    "Whaaaat." Arthur says as he eyes her incredulously even as he sits up in his seat unconsciously mirroring her posture as he leans forwards a little, almost vindictively grabbing another piece of bread from the bread basket before them. "Hold court with an interview, you mean like... a photo opportunity?"
    She can see just how /aghast/ that makes him seem with his eyes wide and his nose crinkled with lips twisted as if he had not just smelled something bad, but had tasted it as well.
    One hand lifts and he says, "I change my mind, let's go with Truth." There, problem solved. As he totally doesn't weasel out of it at all. Completely fair in that choice of tactics.

Koriand'r has posed:
    "Photo opportunity, and there should be at least one baby kissed," Koriand'r smiles in a syrupy sweet way, with benevolence and charm. Or with triumphance. Perspective, really, is the true difference between an endearing smile and a shit-eating grin, and perhaps Arthur sees it the other way while he's ripping into bread as though it'd done some great crime by existing.
    And it drops on the dime when he lifts a hand and does the truth or dare cardinal sin. "You cannot!" Koriand'r blinks at him several times and perhaps, for the first time, he sees young Tamaranean truly taken aback. But as in nature, what goes up, must go down, and though the princess retreats into herself momentarily to evaluate the situation, she returns like the tide, fire in her gaze as she tells Arthur with grave quiet as she spreads both hands on the table and leans forward over her drinks. "There is no reneging in truth or dare."

Arthur Curry has posed:
    "Or else what?" Arthur says... leaning forwards as if ready to /throw/ down with the best of 'em even as he meets her eyes and leans closer with such malevolence clear in that amber gaze.
    Only for his eyes to drift down, then back up, and for him to close that distance for a small kiss as their lips touch, part, drifting toward the intimate and the passionate for merely a few seconds, but they are a lovely few seconds spent with eyes closed and shared breath...
    Then a deep sigh is offered as he murmurs, "Fiiine. Photo opportunity." She wins, and he'll have to mark it on his calendar sometime soon. "Difficult woman." He tells her even as his hand covers hers to give a gentle squeeze.
    "Alright your turn, truth or dare?"

Koriand'r has posed:
    "There is not an 'else what'," Koriand'r emphatically states in a whisper as they meet part-way across the the table, her chest huddled between her bare arms in her forward lean. And for as intimate as the moment appears, it is as much a stand-off. Being in such close proximity causes her heart to thud harder in her chest, but she bravely swallows it down! Because if there's one thing that Koriand'r stands for, it is justice. "You do it, or I will--!
    "Mmf!" He catches her lips with his own. Those green, fired-up eyes go into a heavy half-lid, and then close completely. It is a restaurant. And so there is a certain amount of restraint to the moment. Of untold want and when her eyes open again as they drift apart, it's there, written in the smolder of her gaze.
    And one would think that such an act would tie someone over. Defuse the tension a bit. But for Koriand'r, it is not the case. She stares at Arthur in the same manner that she'd gazed at him in the dark within the lighthouse. It is unreadable, and yet there's enough context within the moment to be able to fathom what it is that might be the cause for the way she embodies the picture of a lion waiting in anticipation for the right type of prey, for any sign of weakness to leap out at.
    The waiter reappears, holding two tray platters to accomodate the dishes. A small feast is laid out between them and Koriand'r opts only a single phrase, a pleasant sounding, "Thank you," but without breaking eye contact with Arthur.
    "Truth," she declares, after the waiter has moved on. And finally she starts to melt from the position she was holding. A fried, crispy treat is plucked from one of the dishes with her bare fingers and pressed to her lips.

Arthur Curry has posed:
    There is more than one way to cheat at Truth or Dare, and poor Koriand'r is about to witness yet another attempt at word game perfidy! For she asks for truth and his lip curves up as he leans back. And, to be fair, his features might have a hint of flush to them, and when their lips touched it was so very warm. But still.
    There is a game to be won!
    Can someone really win Truth or Dare? Whatever. Arthur seems to be playing to win as he smiles and unfurls his napkin from his silverware and with an ease of motion settles it in his lap before he takes knife and fork in hand. "What is the question you /most/ want me to ask you, but you don't think I will?"
    More evil linguistic interplay. The cad!

Koriand'r has posed:
    Koriand'r holds a decent poker face at that question for the first full minute that she considers the question for. Yes. A full minute. And then she starts to shift her gaze after announcing, just so that he can't make any sorta' extra comment, "I am thinking..." And then she reaches for her drink. This time the beer. It's downable without the risk of brain freeze. She tosses her head back and glugs it, and then swipes the back of her hand across her mouth and she sets the half-full mug down.
    The question is steeped in villainy. And the more Koriand'r thinks about it, the more she fixates on Arthur as though intent on burning a hole through him with her gaze.
    Underneath the table her leg uncurls from his and she starts to shift out the end of her booth, stretching one long leg out, and then the other so that both feet are settled on the wood-boarded floor. The jacket is left behind in her seat temporarily. Two steps are taken, and then on Arthur's side she starts to mooch in on his seat!
    The booth makes a slight squeak as her full weight settles in next to his. Together, they are hip to hip, knee to knee, ankle to ankle, with absolutely no consideration of personal space. Her body is warm against his. Soft. Appropriately curved and nestled against his in such a manner that really doesn't allow him the elbow space to eat--besides, her truth is more important!
    She takes the curtain of his hair and draws it away from his ear over the curve of his shoulder. A hand cups to his ear and Koriand'r speaks secretively with the Atlantean. "I want you to ask me..." And the rest is murmured in with her eyes half-closed and a little grin on her lips.

Arthur Curry has posed:
    Arthur seems entirely amused, settled in there in his seat with his food before him. Yet when Kori curls up close to him, her body held so close and the nearness a fine fine thing... he takes a deep breath and lowers that cutlery, leaving it there upon his plate with a faint clink.
    Then when she leans in close almost conspiratorially... Arthur leans his head forward and turns slightly so she can offer him those quiet words so gently. At first he has a wry look to him, playful as he expects perhaps something else than what she tells him. Instead, slowly as she speaks his features.
    They change a little.
    At first the smile goes, though it remains in his eyes. Then a softness enters his features as he tilts his head to the side. His brow furrows as he now focuses fully upon her, listening to just those quiet words shared. Until finally she finishes speaking, and she's still grinning. And curiously enough, Arthur seems... touched.
    A hand lifts to touch a caress to her cheek, just the brush of a thumb that perhaps clears an errant strand of that fiery red hair from her skin. His head tilts to the side as he lifts his chin a little, just enough so the tip of his nose brushes hers and he murmurs quietly. A low rumble in that baritone of his as he tells her. "Forget the bear."
    His hand finds hers, fingers interlacing, then he tells her simply. "Come with me." And as he says that he kisses her brow, then starts to rise. For the restaurant will have their pay for the meal though likely left uneaten. They'll have a generous tip as well. But the two of them are likely already on their way.