<div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><strong>The Fuchsia Fox and an Artifact Absent</strong></span></div><br/><div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/3f/cb/51/3fcb513183b094b643a10c74bed38b1e.jpg)</div><strong>NAME:</strong>Date Toshiro,<em>Albion</em><br/><strong>DAY:</strong>December 25th, 2018 | 8:30PM<br/><strong>LOCATION:</strong>The Indigo Lounge<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong><em>Albion</em><br/><strong>EXTRA:</strong>Warning: Kissing, groping, and a bachelor pad ahoy.<br/><strong>WEARING:</strong>An unbuttoned charcoal gray suit jacket, a loose fitting tie black tie with gray stripes, and dress pants with a white button up shirt and a pair of worn running shoes. Carrying around a messenger bag covered with iconography from various bands, cartoons, and video games.<br/><hr/>“Hey I was drinking tha-” Toshiro's protest to having his drink seized from him was caught on his lips with Albion's abrupt and aggressive motion. The force of his sudden rush towards the recently petulant researcher briefly had Toshiro's bar stool tilted back on two legs, the only thing keeping the pair from collapsing to the ground in tangle of bodies, black steel furniture, and vines, was the researcher's arms swiftly and tightly wrapping around Albion in response, unintentionally, yet not undesirably, pulling him deeper into the forceful and vigorous kiss. As Albion pulled his lips away from Toshiro's, the scientist couldn't help but rise to his feet in an effort to keep together in an effort to make what would always be an unforgettable moment last as long as possible.<br/><br/>Coyly smiling in response to Albion's implied request and at the unmistakable hunger that burned in his intense gaze, Toshiro, now at full height, placed his slender hand beneath Albion's chin and raised it suddenly to once again bring their mouths together without warning, his tongue betraying his own burgeoning want it passed longingly along that of his long time companion in revelry. Toshiro had no intention on losing out on the fun of sparring for who would lead this dance, regardless of how little he cared of the outcome.<br/><br/>Pulling back for only a moment to look at Tulip, he was exceedingly grateful that she offered up a simple nod, a sign he'd long since extrapolated to mean, 'We'll settle up next time.' Looking back down towards Albion, he leaned in once again to give an only slightly more chaste kiss before pulling back, his arms finding their way into Albion's ever fine jacket and wrapping around it's owners waist before Toshiro said with a little more than a whisper as he almost absentmindedly slipped the terracotta statue into his messenger bag, “That makes two of us then, I think there's an easy way to fix that.”<br/><br/>With only the barest awareness of the soft tingle of the bell that announced the pair's egress from the Indigo Lounge wrapped in each others' arms, neither seemed particularly concerned with the occasional stare or averted eyes that accompanied the myriad and very public ravenous displays of mounting lust that seemed to bubble up to the surface with every opportunity. With every wall a back could be braced against, or every stop at a busy street crossing where street lights illuminated their faces among the gently falling snowflakes, the two would quickly revert to attempting to stave of their long withheld lust with briefly passionate moments of touch. For his part Toshiro couldn't help but be consistently drawn back to pressing his lips against Albion's warm cream skin as the drifting snow vanished into that long silver hair before trailing down his handsome features as a trail of chilled moisture. On one occasion Toshiro couldn't help but grin wickedly at the light gasp offered by the soldier as Toshiro's tongue lightly traced upward along one of these path's from just above Albion's exposed collarbone.<br/><br/>With what barely felt like an instant passing by, the two found themselves bowling backwards into Toshiro's apartment, the owner's feet nearly knocked out from under him by the weight of Albion's pressing the pair of them inside of the rather cramped living room within. With a great difficulty that accompanied trying to remove one's shoes while both in the throes of promised romance and experiencing the lingering taste of God knows how much whiskey. Everything around him was a blur of detail more remembered than seen, shelves full of volumes of cartoons, movies, comics, and video games. Almost ever surface off of the floor seemed to be coated end to end in stacks of papers each bearing a mixture of drawings and notes from the simple and mundane to the enormously esoteric.<br/><br/>The only area that seemed utterly free of clutter was a very ordinary waist high table of on which rested an old and well used painter's palette bearing a collection of colors that seemed to reflect the large framed painting that hung behind it. Despite being the most unadorned section of the room, it was impossible for it not to be the focal point, it's simplicity standing in stark contrast to the seemingly undirected chaos that dominated so much of Toshiro's home. The painting itself again stood in sharp relief to the more commercial and pop styled assortment of colorful plastic objects that lined Toshiro's shelves, the subject matter itself being that of a serene coast with long strokes of greenish blue sea water breaking harmlessly into foam upon a collection of softly defined brown and gray rocks. In the foreground three figures obscured in the shadow of a corrugated steel shed that had long fallen into patched of splotchy rust stared out towards the distant horizon, the smallest of the three standing in contention of their two sitting companions as if competing for both height and prominence in the composition.<br/><br/>Doing his best to keep himself from allowing the painting to steal his gaze as it did on so many lonely nights, Toshiro brought Albion to a two person black faux-leather couch that faced away from the small shrine. Setting his bag down to the side of the couch, he collapsed on one of the large scratched up cushions with a groan of relief before patting the seat next to him with a come hither stare and a soft bite of his bottom lip after knocking aside the papers that lay next to him. Toshiro didn't notice the small image of a cat dart off one of the dejected pages into one of it's new neighbors. Breaking the tradition of purely physical communication that the pair had adopted since their time at the Lounge, Toshiro asked with a mixture of anticipation and embarrassment, “It's a bit of a mess, but what do you think? Marceline's around here somewhere but she's used to me bringing company around.” With a wry smile he added, “Regretting your decision yet?”