Tell The OC Below A Secret!

Zinnia blinked slowly at Black, allowing her eyelashes to flutter as she listened to him. She never expected to act as a therapist. She didn't even know the man, yet he was still telling her some deep stuff, at least in the teenager's opinion. She remained silent, allowing her legs to swing underneath the bench. This was perhaps too much for the young girl, but she wanted to try her best to help. She nudged the 25-year-old man's shoulder, attempting to gain his attention. She shot Black a reassuring smile as she responded,

"Hey, I...I think you'll find someone someday, sir. You're probably lonely right now, but someday you'll find someone that will provide you that attention. You'd be craving that attention so badly, but then they would scoop you up and smother you in it. That is probably one of the most satisfying feelings," the teenager muttered.

"It's probably not the same for adults, but I believe that you'll find someone like that someday! You just gotta put the work into it—probably harder than you do while you're at work. My dad says that keeping those types of relationships—uh, good relationships—is important when you grow up."

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Zinnia allowed her eyelashes to flutter as she distractedly plucked the grass. She stopped only when she leaned back against the tree. After letting out a deep exhale, Zinnia allowed her lips to curl into a smile as she crossed her arms on top of her stomach.

"I guess one of my biggest flaws is, mmh, that I'm not so confident in myself. I'm always second-guessing my actions, and I always worry about what everyone else thinks of me. I guess that has taken a huge toll on myself."

"Hey, don't sweat it." He leans his shoulder against the trunk of the same tree, looking down to her. "You're young, there's plenty of room to grow and start liking yourself. Not to be grossly old or anything, but when I was your age, I got stuck in the mirror a lot. I was always trying to find something about me that was nice. When I couldn't do that, I looked at my personality, and when I couldn't do THAT, I had to get help." The latter is a lie, but he'd rather twist his truth and have her seek someone out than to suffer in silence. "It's baby steps. You don't have to think you're perfect or great, but just enough."

--

Secrets. How many exactly did he have? Five? Ten? Hundreds? Why, someone like him knew many things, not only about other people, but within himself. The situations he'd witnessed. The scenarios he'd dabbled in. There were too many. Far too many to think of. 

Rubbing the length of his forearm, he glances down to the skin, where the outline of a baseball tattoo rests. In the middle, the number thirteen is marked in black, worn lettering. "I've never actually played baseball." He laughs, short and sweet. "Everyone always asks me why I have this and what position I play. Sometimes they're like, Oh! You like Buck Shot too? He's the best. And I have to act like I know what the hell they're talking about. Really though, the real secret about this tattoo is that it's a number of a baseball player that I like, totally used to have a crush on."

That was vague enough. Right? Right? 

"I just recently learned about baseball, actually!" Ennette said proudly. "The basics, at least. I still have trouble trying to figure out what's going on when I see a baseball game, though." Her proud smile slowly faltered into an embarrassed one, but it perked up quickly. "That must get you into a lot of awkward situations! I'd get so nervous if people started talking to me about things I didn't know, oh I'm getting overwhelmed just thinking about it!" she whined while covering her blushing face. She only looked up when a crush was mentioned. "Really?" she gasped, eyes wide. "Wow! That's not a crush, that's love! Full blown love! How romantic," she sighed dreamily. "What are they like? Do they still play baseball? Did you ever confess? Do they know about your tattoo??" Maybe... Maybe SHE should get a tattoo, too! What was his baseball number...?

"I can't hide it anymore. I'm... I'm in love!" Ennette gushed while facing her back to you, timidly plucking at her lyre while blushing like mad. "I've been tossing these feelings around for a while, but there's no doubt in my mind anymore, it's love! I just can't help it! They're so... so kind and sweet, and they're always so friendly to me! The first time we met is one of my favorite memories," she giggled. "I don't think they'd ever be interested in me, though. They're so confident and smart, and I'm still learning about what the outside world is like; I'm too coddled and spoiled for them, I feel. I wonder if I should even confess? I feel like I'd only bother them..." she sighed, her music gradually shifting to a minor, sadder sound.

her face lit up when this secret was relayed to her, a giddy smile wide on her face and bright eyes. "oh, that's wonderful!" she said with glee. "isn't that the best feeling? it's like, when they look at you, the world starts spinning the other way, and time stops..." she trailed off a bit when she heard the princess wonder if her love wouldn't be reciprocated. "oh, sweetie, you never know unless you ask! i mean, i asked... even though i already knew the answer." she giggles. "like i said, you don't say something, it'll never come up! try it, honey. you might just be surprised!!"

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converse tapped on cold floor as she walked down the dimly lit hall, her jacket dragging against the floor. it was obviously too big to belong to her. on the left sleeve was a dragon, threaded in gold, that expanded to the left side of the jacket and flames that went around the collar. dead center on the back was a circular logo which read CRAZY DIAMONDS.

"what am i going to do," she said bitterly, and you weren't sure if she was talking to you or herself. "i have to play all my cards right, or all this effort will be for nothing. plus, i'll put them in danger..." you could hear anger in her voice as it trailed off, as she clenched her fists, digging fake nails into her own skin.

she stopped walking, and looked at you with a twinkle in both eyes. you weren't sure if it was mischief or indignation. "hey, listen. i'm gonna let you in on a little secret. i'm not actually taking you back to the lobby like you asked," she pauses awkwardly. "sorry. i'm taking you to this computer room we have in the back, because you look like someone that could help me." with this she smiles, which seems genuine enough.

"i'm going to stop the madness of this world, and i'm going to need all the help i can get! so, here's the secret... i'm a spy for this detective girl. i could use some intelligence from you..."

(I accidentally deleted the first draft of this, so if this doesn't read that well, that is because I am... Frustrated.)

Carmine wasn't sure that he should even be here. He wasn't sure why he was here, either... Topaz had something written down about being here at this time, so he had come. He sort of guessed this had something to do with their job, and maybe he should have just had them reschedule because he knew next to nothing about that, along with being mute in general... It was too late now to go back, so now he was following a stranger to what she said was the lobby. He stared down, obviously anxious and shaky. He hoped that his brothers would be proud of him for being here, though it was more likely they'd just tell him not to do this sort of thing again... He didn't blame them, though. He looked over to the stranger, and stared at her big jacket. It looked pretty cool, actually, though it didn't fit her at all. 

When she started to talk, he seemed even more anxious. She was being vague... He didn't like vagueness. Out of those first few sentences, only one word stuck out to him: danger. He didn't like danger, either. Now he really wanted to go home... He didn't know how to respond, so he just kept quiet, hoping that eventually, he'd get to go home... Until the girl stopped and looked at him. He looked back at her, eyes filled with anxiety. What was happening? She then explained that she was going to let him in on a secret, that she wasn't taking him to the lobby, and that she was instead taking him to a computer room because he looked like someone who could help... Oh no, now he was sure this was a mistake, because this only scared him more. He tried not to just sit there and cry as she smiled and continued on, talking about stopping the madness of the world, needing all the help she could get, being a spy for a detective girl, and getting intelligence from him. He stared at her, wide eyed, before signing, "I'm really sorry, I don't know anything about this. Is this meant for one of my brothers? I can't talk with my voice, much less have any intelligence. To be honest, this is scaring me a little, I'm really sorry. I can write down in our journal for them to come talk to you later, if you want, I just don't know anything." He shakily grabbed his journal from a secret pocket in their tailcoat, wrote down everything he had signed, tore out that page, and gave it to her, just in case she didn't know ASL.

Carmine stared at the person in front of him, shaking a little. He contemplated if it was really a good idea to talk about something like this. What if they used it against him or his brothers, or used it as an excuse to hurt him? But, this person seemed to want to know, so he shakily started signing, "It's no secret that I can't talk with my voice. If I could talk like that, I wouldn't be signing to you right now. But, my brothers can. I don't know why they can and I can't. It hardly makes sense to me, so I doubt it'll make sense to you, but, the secret is, my brothers don't have bodies of their own. We all live together in one body. There's no real 'White', we are all White. We rarely talk about this, but, you seem okay? Maybe? If you're not already thinking I'm weird? But, like I said, they can talk. It isn't because the body's vocal cords are damaged, but, my mental ones are. There's a disconnect there somewhere, and sometimes, I feel bad because I feel like if my brothers can talk, I should be able to, too, but I can't. I usually only talk to Sanguine about this, but, you're not going to tell anyone else, are you? You're my friend, right? Maybe not, but, I don't really have any other friends to talk to besides Sanguine, and he already knows everything, so, I'd like to be friends, maybe?" He slowly put his hands down and looked away. He wasn't too used to having to talk that much with his hands, but it seemed like the only viable option. That is, if the person even understood, or had focused enough to understand all of what he had said. If they hadn't, that was okay. It would be more difficult to use writing if they were to be friends, but just in case, he pulled out his journal and started writing an abridged version of everything he had just said, looking up at them for a moment to make sure that they hadn't understood so that he wouldn't waste paper.

(Because I sort of felt that I would kill the thread if I made him just say everything in ASL, if your OC doesn't know it, just presume that he finished writing that and gave it to your OC!)

Carmine had a small smile when the person mimicked his signs as they read. It showed that they were willing to learn for him, and that really meant a lot. He stared at them with a smile as they started to talk, giving them small nods with every few words or so to show he was listening. His face went a little pale when trauma was mentioned, but he swallowed those thoughts down. His smile turned into a big and goofy grin once the word 'friend' was mentioned. Friend! He had made a real friend that wasn't Sanguine! 

Once they were done, they grabbed the journal and wrote down another note which he passed back to his new friend. "We're friends now, right? Yay! But in response to what you said, I'll let you know if anyone tells me it's my fault. And yeah, DID, that thing! You're probably right about the cause, though... I'm the EP, which means I remember all of the trauma. It's... Really, really hard to sign, write, or even think about. I would appreciate your efforts and stuff, though! And it's so nice that you're willing to learn sign language for me, that makes me happy. Also, this is sort of off topic, but do you like insects? I think they're pretty cool! And I like your horns, too! They look cool on you!"

Ace carefully reads through the journal while mimicking the signs. Once she's done, she turns to Carmine and starts "There's no need for you to feel bad, you haven't done anything wrong! If anyone ever tells you that it's your fault that you can't talk, tell me and i'll teach them a lesson."

Ace sits back before continuing "Dissociative identity disorder? Interesting, don't worry, i won't tell anyone. So, if you're brothers can talk alright, then then the problem is propably some sort of emotional hangup, some sort of trauma. I'm not exactly qualified to help you with psychological issues, i'd only make things worse... I mean i do have plenty of litterature, i could propably learn how to help you in... about a week? I'm a very fast learner. I'll have to learn sign language too, what kind of friend would i be if i couldn't even understand you."

Sitting across the table, looking at her emtpy cup, Ace's expression slowly shifted from her usual smile to a more worried expression. "Can i tell you a secret? I'm still afraid. Terrified that Dantalion will return one day. I know it's impossible, nobody can come back from the dead. But if such a thing is possible after all, she will be the first one to figure out how. I mean, she has plans for killing every other archdemon if she needs to, has defeated an army of angels with a single spell and even survived fighting a deity. And if she does come back, nothing will stop her from killing me."

Ace goes back to her usual, cheerful expression and asks "Want another drink?"

"Oi mean, " he let the words linger in his mouth a bit too long. "If yer talk about angels uh angles, armies of dem and arch, " he rolled his hand as if the gesture alone could refresh his, slightly tipsy, mind. "Démons, whatever they may be, commin' back from de death doesn't soun far fetched, " Roswell picked up his drink and rolled it's glass between his finger. Letting the small bottom of whisky circle through the glass before he took his last big gulp. Roswell had to squeeze his eye ahut from the strong whisky smell and flavor. "Void, me kid did it. Crawled back from de dead loike a cursed spoidermonkey, " Roswell said while spitting the last drips of whiskey on the ground next to him. What a lovely man he was!
"If he can do it, oim pretty sure Danny? Dantalion? Dan, can do de same." Roswell rolled his shoulders in something of a slum and shrug before holding out his whisky glass to Ace. "Aye, sum more..whisky please, " you sure my dude. "To drink on death roi!"

--

"Roi, roi, " the old thief said. His hands held up in the air and a innocent expression on his face. "Oi didn't knew yer get upset, but alroight. Oi talk, " Roswell said. He pulled his collar into shape before he continued : "oi've seen it with me own peeker. Well oi read about it in a magazine but..Dey are hauling' in diamonds into de city. Diamonds as big as chiken-eggs.. Probably de same shape too, " Roswell held his index finger and thumb apart as if he pinched a egg between those fingers. "It's part of some..Collection. De Emperor's to be exact, heavy guarded as if the crown-prince 'imself get presented to de folk, " he shrugged with a more neutral expression. "Oi've tryin' to plan a heist but... Well, no avail. Those egg diamonds seems to be unreachable."

--

"No no, no," the thief whined. "They are as big ass eggs, as big!" He said flaling his arms around. Bratty children? No problem. Snarky teens, worlds okayest dad Roswell could handle those. But toddlers? Nope, too powerful. 

Penelope stared up at the thief, a confused expression plastered on her face. Then, her lips curled into a frown as the sound of choked-up sobbing sounded from her. However, this sadness immediately vanished when he started musing her about egg-sized diamonds...or was it diamond-sized eggs? Something must have gotten lost in translation, but either way, the child was entertained.

"Wow, giant eggs..." the child cooed before letting out a giggle. Yep, Penelope misinterpreted Roswell's words.

"I wanna see big egg!" Penelope gasped before patting her hands against the floor.

"I wanna see! I wanna see! Ooh, oh...maybe Santa would get me one!"

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Trigger warning for some (implied) abuse

(Spoilered for the implied abuse.)

_{(Sorry if this is a bit short, I'm sort of getting tired, whoops.)}

Black sighed as he turned to the person seated next to him. "You know, I've been thinking about something recently. That 'something' being a lot of things from my childhood... Which, honestly, a lot of it wasn't great. But, recently, I was thinking about a childhood teddy bear, and... Is it weird that I miss him? My parents took him away because I was 'too old' for him, which I guess I am, but... I guess I secretly still really like stuffed animals. To me, there's just something really comforting about them. You can tell them anything, and they won't get upset or judge you. They'll give you all of the hugs and cuddles you want. They're so soft, and they'll always be your best friends. They love you." Black took in a shaky breath, and continued, "That's... Probably stupid. I'm 25 now, and I still like stuffed animals. Childish, right? At least, my parents said it was back when I got upset when they took him away."

"Well, I'm glad that at least I'm not the only one who feels like that. Ivory really did mean a lot to me as a kid, he was practically my only friend while I got little to no attention from anyone else. I guess I just wasn't that well liked to have that many friends." He looked down for a moment, until the stranger offered to make him a replica of Ivory. "You would do that?" he shakily asked. He certainly wasn't used to people giving him things, much less something as close to his heart as this... "I don't have a picture, but he was a polar bear with a fancy little tuxedo on." He watched her pull out the keychain, and shakily said, "Oh, that looks so nice... Thank you, thank you so much. How much do you want for this?"

"No, I totally get it! I make toys for a living, I know how much impact they have in people's lives. Toys are really special and are great sources of comfort." Yukiko said, before stopping to think about how exactly to remedy this situation. "I know it's not the same, but I could make you a replica if you'd like! If you have any sort of pictures that'd help me greatly, and if not describe him and I'll do the best of my abilities to match the vision of him in your head." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small stuffed bear on a keychain. "I obviously don't have a fullsized plushie on me, but here's an example of my handiwork if you're curious!" She flashed a grin at the man.

"Hey...I need to confess something and I don't want anyone I know to know how I feel...I'm a little scared of the idea of becoming an adult." The girl sighed as she confessed to the nearest person. "I hate being called childish and all but the idea of having to settle down, create a family, ditch all my childhood comforts just doesn't sit well with me."

Allen scratched the back of his head awkwardly as he listened to the girl - he wasn't exactly sure what to say to her. "I... I think I understand how you feel," he said awkwardly. "I... I think that for the time being, you should be yourself. Do what you want to do without listening to what others say." Was he a hypocrite for giving an advice he himself didn't follow? "You should only worry about adult things when the time comes - and even then, you don't have to settle down if you don't want to."

---

"I... I don't know why I am telling you this." Allen started nervously fidgeting with his fingers as he spoke with the other person. "There's a woman I'm quite found of, but... She's from a different social class than me, so my parents would disapprove of her. I want to be with her, but I'm too afraid to face my family..." He gulped, frowning a bit. "I'm against a wall..."

"That sounds like a lovely stone..." Ren said quietly. She leaned her head back tried to see it in her mind. She pictured a uncut stone, a bit dull now with sparkles of clarity here and there. The color was up in the air; it could've been a pale yellow, a deep gold, something brighter and more akin to a canary bird? It could've been shades of all three as far as she knew.

A precious gem placed into a custom forged sword wasn't something she was familiar with. Perhaps it wasn't commonly done and that's why he wanted it to be a secret? Maybe gifting a weapon like that was exactly what he said; an exceptional way of showing gratitude. Or perhaps a courting tradition among Orcs?

Honestly, she wasn't sure what she'd done to make someone, let alone someone like Satja, want to confide in her. Maybe she just looked trustworthy... Maybe he needed to tell someone who had no way of telling this mysterious blacksmith? Either way, he had, and Ren felt herself smile for him.

"I wish I could be around to see the finished sword." Ren said. "I'll be sure to keep quiet."

-----------

"This was the first plant I ever grew." Ren said, holding out a small ceramic pot towards her visitor. It had the tall, slim, green stem of a tomato plant. The leaves were slightly yellow, but it still bore fruit. Her eyes were closed and she smiled proudly. "It's the roma tomato type."

"It's the only one I didn't name right away; my classmate actually pitched the idea to name it after myself." She explained. She remembered bringing it to her dorm; not only as the first plant she'd bought, but as well the first thing she felt was 100% hers. She picked off one of the large fruits and rolled it gently between her thumb and index finger. She looked up them expectantly, waiting to see if they'd ask to try one.

"I haven't told anyone before that- this is going to sound really weird, but..." She paused for a moment. Well, she wasn't wrong about it being weird. "I don't even like tomatoes. I just thought they looked pretty." 

"Ooh, pretty plant," the teenager cooed, placing her head on the palms of her hands. She stared at the plant blankly, only raising her head at Ren's distaste for tomatoes.

"Oh? Mmh, I guess that...they are. You could totally sell them and make a living off of that! People like, uh...farmers...do that all the time."

-----------

"Ugh, I look gross," the blonde stated, comparing herself at the nearest mirror.

"I know, I know, I should be confident in my body, but I'm not. That's how I honestly feel," she stated, planting her hands on her hips before dropping her arms to her side. She then glanced over to her side, leafing through the magazines before pulling one out. She then held it up to the second party, briefly pointing at the bikini-clad woman at the corner.

"I want to look like her. The other girls at my school always...tell me that I would look much prettier losing all my...uh..." Unable to think of a word, Zinnia poked at her gut and let out an exhale.

"This."

Hala side-glanced at the magazine Zinnia offered her. By this point, she hadn't said much to the girl, though she was certainly listening. She wasn't sure what to tell her, honestly, instead marinating in that sinking feeling of pity. She herself had issues with her body image, though she was just as shy to bring them up as the teenager was. The least she could do was offer a smile, however -- which she did, managing a grin that lasted for... maybe a whole of five seconds. She couldn't deny that the woman in the pictures was beautiful, but now wasn't the time to linger on that fact.

"You're still young." Hala told Zinnia, "You're... what, thirteen? Fourteen? You shouldn't be worried about those things." Of course, that didn't make Zinnia's problems feel any less real. Hala sighed as she reached out to nab the magazine and glance at the woman a second time. "And she's grown up."

She looked back at the teenager, her eyes softening as she placed the issue aside, and then stood from her seat next to her. She looked into a mirror for a moment, expression blank as her mind went dry of thought. As a rather... scrawny woman, she wasn't entirely sure what to tell Zinnia, though it wasn't like she had many 'curves' herself. No. No, she just looked pathetic, and Zinnia...

"I've always been skinny." she told the other, "But, I had a baby face up until I was nineteen. That really is what you are, you know..." She leaned in towards the other and laughed gently. "You're just a baby!" That wasn't an insult. Hopefully it didn't come across as such. "You'll lose the fat as you get older, and even if you're still a bit pudgy... Well, don't worry too much about it! Don't worry at all, actually! The woman there might be beautiful, but you are... you're cute! And still a child!"

She stepped around the younger woman, humming to herself as she approached the door. "Don't listen to them is all I'm saying. The girls." she concluded, "Believe me, when you're a woman, it'll all be so ridiculous looking back on it..."

"Where I come from, divorce isn't really an option." Hala began, "But, moving here to Yenereth... Where everything is so different..."

There was a long pause as she combed her messy hair back. She conjured a smile, but it disappeared as soon as it wormed its way onto her visage. Tears threatened to well up in her eyes, but she managed to wipe them away quickly. She had always been a crybaby. She had always been pitiful.

"I'm afraid that I already know what's happening, but I can't bring it up to my husband. He'll be... He'll be so furious, you know? And my mother -- by the gods, what would my mother say?" Thirty years old and terrified of mommy, but perhaps for good reason. Uzma was domineering, rarely forgiving. If Hala were to return to her homeland with the news that her husband left her, it really wouldn't be a pretty scene.

"I just wish I had someone to talk to about these things." Hala finally forced out, "It's the loneliest feeling in the world, knowing that no one loves you anymore, especially when perhaps they once did. I suppose I've felt that way for a long time. My only wish is that I had my son with me. He would have fixed everything."