Your OC Is Having A Sleepover With The OC Above

Posted 3 years, 9 months ago (Edited 1 year, 8 months ago) by Vapor

RULE UPDATE [8/5/2022]

Let's have a slumber party! It's cold in my room and I cannot stop sleeping. I might as well think about fake people sleeping while I'm at it.

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Kiushhu EggSalt

(This is so cute..)

Kiushhu hummed in thought over the concept of a 'sleepover'. It had been something their comrade Ruby had taught them about. So, the uberhero decided now would be a great time to attempt the passtime!

"Let's see," They went over their literal checklist, "...Ruby said pillows? Blankets...snacks?"

Kiushhu looked to the assortment of random foods they had collected, that were now sprawled out across the floor. Nodding, they checked that off the list.

"Now, entertainment..." They squinted a little through their mask, looking at the television hooked up, "That works! Then, I can keep watch outside. Easy enough."

...Looked like someone would have to teach the uberhero the art of taking a chill pill for one night.

(followupkafkaesque hfdhgdfg two dorks don't know how to chill...)

In their attempt to rush off, Kiushhu heard the woman chasing after them. They halted for a moment, listening to the plea and the realization of the fact that these 'sleepovers' usually required the presence of both parties, and not just one. Stopping in their tracks, the uberhero slowly turned to Smith and dipped their head in apology.

"Sorry ma'am," They stated, "I'm not...used to these types of things yet."

The air was...awkward. A little tense.

"Is there anything around here that you need help with?"

Smith (Human) kafkaesque

- fhdyvrfuygrf dude that's.... so cute and wholesome ahhhhh?? I can see them having a fairly wholesome dynamic in time if I'm gonna be honest- ;;

Alas, Smith also had no idea what a "sleepover" was, at least not in the normal sense of the word. Usually, as far as she was concerned, spending the night at someone's house was quite the momentous feat, as it required a great amount of regard between both parties. In other words, it wasn't like two strangers would ever engage in such an arrangement, and as she looked at the other party, this was... Weird.

The young woman took a deep breath as she listened to their remarks regarding the checklist that they held in their hands. She looked at the paper, wondering if she could at least take it for a second and go through it, just so she had at least some idea of what was going on and wasn't left clueless. Her husband had always told her that she was better off just getting the information from other people, and so she looked down at the hero expectantly, as if she needed instruction from them in order to function. It wasn't like her husband was going to help her in that regard anyway, given that he was conveniently gone for the night. Hmmm...

"Um," she piqued in while folding her hands together, her mouth trying to form a smile as she regarded her tiny companion, "I... I can provide the pillows and blankets. Snacks too, of course." Her eyes drifted off to the side as she tittered into her palm. "... My house has a lot of those. You wouldn't ever need to worry about not having them, just... I think you shouldn't remove the pillows or blankets from their proper places. Their beds, basically. Ummm..." Smith froze for a moment.

"It's... Just not a good idea, okay? There'd be so much to clean, and... I don't think my husband would like that. Sure, he's not going to return until the next morning, but..." Her eyes drifted to the floor as she ran her fingers through her hair. "... He's not going to like how much cleaning and rearranging the servants would have to do, you know... Like... I think he told me that he wants them to be relaxed for a change, and I see no reason to upend that... Would... Would a couch suffice?"

In spite of her persistent nervousness, the possibility of entertainment did attract her interest... Though a portable television wasn't at all what she expected, or wanted. It was a bit gaudy compared to all the opulence that decorated the rest of the salon, and Smith had never been exposed to a television in her entire life. She bit down on her lip and hoped that it wasn't a weapon of some kind.

Then, as the hero leapt off to keep watch outside, she interjected with a stammer, "Wait, um! You don't need to worry about guarding the place! The servants can do that, and this part of the community is pretty safe anyway!" She got up to her feet, almost falling as her shoes stepped on her dress as her attempts proved to be quite clumsy. Eventually, however, Smith did it, and she pursued them as if she really, really didn't want to spend the night with just her, her servants, or her thoughts - no matter what.

sad women(tm) interact.... rip both of them.

time for a follow-up as per always-

Once again, Johnson had left her alone for the night, but the woman reassured herself that it was nothing unusual. He definitely wasn't seeing other women behind her back. He definitely didn't believe in his words when he offered her those back-handed compliments. He was just busy; that's all. He'd be back in the morning, and everything would be okay. Of course it would. That's how it always was, and that's how it should ideally be.

Of course, though, before Smith's husband left, he told her to stay at the house of some lass he had been talking to for a while now, and for a moment, Smith had to question why he'd leave her in such a desolate and dreary place anyways. It was just as moldy and rotten as the last time she had seen the girl, except this time, she was dealing with a stone building instead of some weird cabin in the woods. This would've been the setting for a horror movie, except Smith didn't think the other party was inclined to kill.

Hopefully.

She turned to face her host as she nodded along to the words. Already, her hands wrung together like she was under great stress - though it wasn't like she had much reason to in the first place. Johnson always told her that anyhow. And... Well... Nothing could be worse than that cabin, right? At least her shoes had something hard to step on, and said floor didn't seem to creak or shift even under her measly weight.

"That's fine," Smith replied almost immediately after the younger woman finished speaking, "That sounds good by me anyway. I mean..." The woman glanced around the room before coughing into her sleeve. "... I could be somewhere worse right now." Like that aforementioned cabin? That's not very rosy of you to be saying that, Smith. In fact, at this very moment, she couldn't help but think of her husband and wherever he was right now. Why are these two on good terms again? Is it because of their similar demeanor?

The young woman seriously entertained the possibility of asking Johnson why he had such weird taste in friends. Not that she'd actually do so in the first place, of course. Her eyes drifted to whatever the hell was underneath the other party's bed, and she tilted her head.

Smith nodded at the request, but she was also quick to add, "That sounds fine too, but... I don't think I've ever played such a game before." She immediately winced and withdrew her limbs like a turtle, as if she expected to be lashed out at for it. "I mean! I'd love to learn, of course, but... I think... Even if you don't want to teach me, could you go at least be a little easy on me?" And now that was something she regretted saying! Smith tittered into her knuckles as she looked around the pretty sad-looking room again.

Oh, Johnson really couldn't be returning any sooner. His presence would actually be a welcome thing for once, considering what Smith was likely about to get herself into.

Maribelle Burnett Vapor

Maribelle was in the "I don't know what a slumber party is" boat, and knowing her, it wasn't really something she thought about until now, until someone was here in her room with her. For the entire night.

She stared outside the window, into the endless void of night. Thankfully, she didn't seem to recognize Smith, either, from when she was still living with her great-uncle and when said great-uncle dragged in a half-frozen little lady. May he rest in shit.

"I'll go over the rules of you staying here one more time, just so you know." Maribelle told the older woman, "I'm doing all the work here, so I get to have the bed." Both she and Smith were about to get arthritis. Neither the bed nor the floor were comfortable. "And, I get to choose what we eat, because I'm going to be cooking it, and I say we're going to eat pork and rice, because I just got a bunch of pork that I need to use." Fortunately, Maribelle was also going to scarf down as much as much of the meal as she could. Smith didn't have to worry about forcing herself to eat. "And, no matter what, you're not allowed to open the door, even if someone's knocking. And-- wait-- And, finally, you're not allowed to mess with my shit, either. You can look at my shit, but you can't mess with it."

Maribelle hauled herself out of her chair, the seat giving a loud whine, so puny and decrepit that the wood threatened to break underneath the girl's weight. She marched across the room, keeping her distance from Smith. She plopped down on the side of her bed, hunched over and running her fingers through her hair as she searched the room. She, like a dumbass, didn't have a hairbrush, and seriously debated on asking Smith if she had one. Not that Smith should give her brush to her, anyway, if she had one. It was... safer that way.

Alas, she hadn't much to offer as means of entertainment. She had her books, of course, but...

"I have a shogi board under my bed." she told Smith, "Play shogi with me."

She, inevitably, wouldn't be able to sleep for the rest of the night, and she knew that. But, she could either get up out of her bed at two in the morning and stomp around like an asshole, or she could do something slightly more productive. Both, however, would likely be at the cost of her guest's sleep time...

A FOLLOW-UP. [feat. maribelle angst again]

Maribelle instinctively shied away when the stranger entered her room, but hadn't yet budged from her bedside, nor the shogi board in front of her that she had been amusing herself with thus far. She folded her hands in her lap, quiet as she listened to him. It wasn't much of a party, she supposed, it being only her and the older woman, the latter of which was conveniently somewhere else, so really it was only her now. In between the glances she sent his way, she fiddled with the game tiles in front of her. At his words, she let out a huff.

"Pitiful party here." she remarked, "I think the-- the lady is in the, uh... The side room..." She couldn't call it a bathroom nor a kitchen. It revolted her to call it either. Really, what she wouldn't give to be back on her father's estate with her own gorgeous room, her window enveloped by shimmering gossamer curtains. Not to mention, her washroom wasn't the same as her kitchen, and every morning she was served breakfast in bed from the downstairs. Back then, she was pampered, and life was more bearable...

Then, the man spoke again, as if on cue mentioning her father, and then his name. Mister Hahn. Mister Han. Han Peizhi. That was one Hell of a coincidence, and taken aback for a moment, she fell silent and stopped laying with the board, her eyes widened not only in shock, but also a vague terror.

Maribelle panicked, once more shrinking away from Seung-Cheol as he approached. This wasn't right. Of course it wasn't right. What was she thinking, hesitating like this? Her expression shifted again as she glowered up at him, snaking down in a crouch, hunched over like a cat cornered, defensively puffing up its fur to look bigger, but also cowering to the point where it, at the same time, appeared rather small.

"..You mean Raphael." She breathed. This was another one of his games, surely. Did Raphael even know what happened to Peizhi? Maybe he did. He knew a lot about her.

"Raphael is-- is the one who wants you to tutor me, I'm sure." she managed, "He's-- He's not my father."

She looked back down at the board once he pointed it out. She traced her thumb over the smooth wood, her brows furrowing. Wouldn't be the first time someone told her they were mediocre at this game, although she herself wasn't fantastic at it. She shoved the board towards him, and then pulled her legs closer to her chest with a nod. It seemed like she was down for a quick game before she was forced to actually learn something useful.

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Smithson (Human) kafkaesque

To call this a sleepover was a bit of a stretch as Smithson preened himself near his guest. He expected the younger man to be a one-time stay, but for whatever reason, the arbiter was given another chance to stay in their house. And oddly enough, Smithson didn't seem to mind that much, though he did feel his chest tickle ever so slightly from...

Envy, perhaps? After all, the other party was familiar with his wife, and he had somehow won her good side in such a short time when it took the aristocrat much longer to do the same. But that was petty, Smithson reasoned to himself. His wife had a lot going on right now, and he at least appreciated the fact that the newcomer could use that lute of his to calm her down whenever her worries about her son and the world threatened to collapse in on her. Smithson just wondered how that could be done so easily-

Turning over to the other party at last, he remarked somewhat jokingly, "I'm assuming that you want another taste of opulence before going back to your duties the next day?" Emphasis on somewhat. It was still a little pointed, but it could've been worse. He tapped his foot against the floor while eyeing the couch the fellow rested upon - coincidentally the same couch he rested on when he was ill.

"I wouldn't blame you, but in terms of entertainment, I'm afraid I can't provide very much," the aristocrat added with an awkward sniff before looking off to the side, "I do have servants, and they can work for that, but... They're mostly inclined to housework, you know? Not necessarily for keeping a party in check, unless I invite people over, and that's probably the last thing you likely need right now." Another sniff. His eyes glanced off to the side as he rubbed his hands together.

This... This might be more of a hassle than I initially thought... How does a "sleepover" even work anyways? It's just someone staying over at someone else's house for the night?

Oh, goodness did that cause his schedule to implode ever so slightly. Smithson bit down on his lip and shook his head before stepping off to the side. Part of him just wanted the guest to defer to his wife, since she at least knew what to do when dealing with him. But at the same time, he wanted to keep some form of control, since it appeared that the guest wrested that from him - ever so slightly.

He suggested after an extended period of silence, "If you want, we can just talk until something interesting happens. That's always the prime form of entertainment in these circles anyhow. We're boring folk, to be honest with you."

BIG FUCKING RIP FOR SMITHSON TBH. all he wants is... his stuff back....

here is.... your follow-up....

Walker must've been pretty pissed, because she had told him in a flurry that several things were taken from him while he was gone for the day. That, as well as the fact that a certain thief had tried flirting with her not too long ago. Smithson's stomach sank. If this was the same thief he was currently thinking of, then he'd be the slightest bit pissed too. As a treat.

Besides, he really wanted his stuff back, which was why he stood in front of the doorway and looked down at the note dropped at the scene. On it was an address, which he assumed was the place he was supposed to go to, as well as some comment about how nice the stolen belongings would be for them. Yea, assuming that they even know how those work, the man thought with the grimace. He sighed and gave the door a careful knock once more, hoping that it wasn't a trap designed for him to get beat up.

Actually, in hindsight, maybe getting beat up would've been a better option for Smithson as he saw none other than the thief he had gotten so used to over time. He even let out a sigh as he hid the note behind his back and eyed the younger man with a frown.

"No, I don't," he grunted with narrowed eyes, "I just want my stuff back. You know, the mattress and car battery that you took. What would you even use either of those for anyway?" Someone was oblivious. He peered over the other party's shoulders into the living room and noticed that it was... Surprisingly nice and orderly. He honestly expected the thief's den to be super dingy - or at least smelling of something really weird. This was just like a middle-class suburban home, and though it was a step down from what Smithson was used to, it was also a step up from what he expected from a criminal.

He drew in a sharp breath before quickly adding, "Gee, as long as I like? Then that'd be for a few minutes, at best." And at worst- Smithson didn't even want to think about it.

Not that he could as he was suddenly pulled into the house, eyes fixated on the stolen mattress. Already, his mind was conjuring up a plan to take the thing back, which he'd eventually executed if everything panned out nicely. But first... His eyes drifted over to the other man as the latter hopped around him and suggested all sorts of things that Smithson frankly either didn't know about or considered childish. If he even knew what a sleepover was, this was going to be a pretty disappointing one.

"I just want to make this as quick as possible, really," the aristocrat explained with the slightest hint of frustration in his voice, "A transaction ,if I must be precise." He stood there blinking for a few seconds before running his fingers through his hair and adding, "What do you want in exchange for giving me my stuff back? I have a lot of money, but if you're looking for something that isn't monetary, then I'd be fine with that too." Oh goodness, famous last words. Or at least words that the man would end up regretting just seconds later, but alas...

Now wasn't the time. Yet.

Jackson Rivers PicklePantry

"So you need a place to stay for the night, huh?" Jackson grinned from the doorway of his home. He knew this would happen. Hours-- Days-- WEEKS of meticulously planning all lead to this specific moment. And what was it he had been planning? Stealing Smithson's bed, of course! It was difficult as hell, too! But he did it, he managed to get that giant mattress out of there! And he took his car's battery while he was at it! Now there was no reason Smithson couldn't contact him, especially if he wanted his stuff back.
"Luckily, I have plenty of space tonight, so you're free to stay as long as you'd like!" the thief proudly exclaimed as he opened the door wider to show the familiar bed scrunched up in the living room. Upon closer inspection, there were pictures everywhere, but of a random family. This wasn't Jackson's home, was it?
Before Smithson could get a chance to react, he was pulled inside. "What should we do? Dinner and a movie? Some board games? It's been a long time since I've had a sleepover. Oh! There are some video games I think you'd be interested in. It's about these monsters you can catch and train to become bigger and stronger. Sound familiar? This one's called Digimon!"

asl;fjas the RABBIT I-

"Hey! It's good to see you again!" Jackson beamed when he entered Robin's home. His eyes immediately went to the bunny. "Oh hey! What a cute little guy!" he swooned, resting his hands on his knees so he could get a better look at him. Aww, look at the way his nose twitched! This made the trip worth it.
He turned around when he heard her comment, smiling wider. "Banana bread? Count me in! If you want, we could also play some video games?" He paused when she asked what one was, a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face. "Er, never mind. Do you have Monopoly? A game of that against two thieves oughta be real fun!"

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Walker (Human) kafkaesque

Walker, for one thing, sure was hoping that she wasn't going to get dragged into a tea party like... The last time around.

Actually, she wasn't even there for the event. She just knew that her husband had been the target of such an incident, as he hastily recounted to his wife as soon as the event supposedly ended... The middle-aged woman raised a brow at this, because she thought the idea of a full-grown woman - let alone one who specialized in thievery - having a full-on tea party was just... The slightest bit ridiculous? Immature, even?

It wasn't like the woman could utter these words out loud, though, as Walker scanned the younger party, then stated, "So, I suppose that you are staying here for the night, yes?" She coughed into her sleeve, looked over her shoulder, then nodded - almost as if this was some type of routine for her. Oh. "Admirable, I suppose. The mansion is usually just constructed for guests intending to stay here for a few hours, though... I reckon that you are a partying person too, yes?" Upon mentioning the party, a brow raised as if she was obliquely referring to-

Oh.

"My husband is not home right now," further droned Walker, "but nonetheless, he did tell me that your party was... Fun. He might like your company too, if it were not so awkward for her." Her lip started to twitch for a moment, before she turned around and started to walk over to the dining room. She swayed a hand over in that direction too, as she expected the other party to follow with ease. "I simply hope that this will be decent as well, almost like compensation," she remarked just as they entered the room.

Of course, the room was opulent. It had to be, because it expected guests on a near constant basis. Such was the custom of aristocrats in this region, where folks often competed to see who could have the most impressive set of interior decoration. Walker almost had to rub her eyes when she walked in because of how much all the metallic surfaces caused light to reflect into her eyes, stunning her for a second, before she sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, oh-so delicately.

"I do not have much in terms of accommodations," she hummed almost mournfully, "but I do have... A spare room." Her throat dried, before she coughed. Again. "Also treats. Lots of them. The servants are all still here, at the very least. I heard you like banana bread, is that true? They can make that for you, and more..." Her eyes drifted over to the basket, which appeared empty at the moment. Hopefully it stayed that way when the guest left, as in... No theft occurring. Yikes.

yum. sandwich posts.... :)c

here's.... a follow-up that sort of continues off the last few replies lmao:

"Another... Another guest?" Walker carefully parsed as she listened to the young woman in front of her. She had to be kidding, right? One guest already stretched at her patience - ever so slightly - but... The middle-aged woman grimaced as she rubbed the back of her neck. Sure, I am supposed to be a hostess, she thought to herself while averting eye contact with the caked dirt on the woman's arm, but this might be stretching it a bit... Still... Her eyes traveled back to the man that the woman apparently carried along.

With a stern nod, she grunted, "Fine, he can stay too. Just know that you cannot stay as long as before, since... Extra guests mean an extra strain on resources." Sure. In reality, it was just awkward for Walker, who was only used to dealing with large numbers of people staying for a few hours at most. "Let me just get the servants ready. Dinner is almost ready, you know." And with that, she turned her shoulder to the other party, not even questioning why the man in question was in a barrel...

Several days later, Walker still felt the guests had out-welcomed their stay. She had explained to Smithson as to why they were here, and though he raised his brow at her explanation, he eventually just nodded and gave her a kiss on the forehead... Whatever that meant. He explained to her that he was going to be busy anyway, so as long as the guests were content and didn't wreak havoc in the house, then she'd be okay. At least... Walker hoped that she was.

It was at this moment where she peered through the doorway and saw the man from previously arguing with the young woman. Immediately, the aristocrat winced and drew herself back, though a sliver of her face remained visible from inside the room. The scene was... Strangely visceral to the woman, who coughed quietly into her sleeve and glanced over her shoulder for anyone who was a servant... Or maybe Smithson - if he had already returned from his duties.

Tracing her foot against the floor, Walker could only hope this didn't last too long... The sharp voices, the harsh words... They all gnawed at her, and - as before - she was frozen in place. Fun.

"Oh, uh," she piqued in once the man suddenly noticed her presence. Although she was still wary, Walker took a step forward and offered the now-awake guest a small curtsy in greeting. "It is... Fine. I should not have eavesdropped on you like that, but..." She scanned his haggard appearance before nodding. "... I am glad that you are awake now, at least." Walker was aware of her husband's dalliances with the older man, which continued to put her on edge, yet... Even then, he seemed remarkably calm, as demonstrated by his casual request for some water.

Walker glanced over her shoulder before beckoning over a servant, then whispering the request in their ear, then afterwards watching them depart. Finally, she turned to face the elder just as he brought in the fact that her husband would be... Away, for a few days. Few more days? Walker frowned and scratched at her forehead, though her frown was more pensive than truly shocked or indignant.

"I see," sighed the woman while running her fingers through a lock of her hair, "That is... A shame. He told me he would be busy, but not that busy. Still, if you imply that it will help his spirit..." She shuddered, recounting how on edge he had been lately, though he could never tell it was because of their son's disappearance or everything that had been unfolding in their manor since then. She cleared her throat before adding, "... I will be okay with it. Besides, as his wife, I do want him to be well - both physically and mentally."

She tensed further when she heard a name being mentioned, though... Frankly, Walker wasn't sure whether the name sounded familiar or not.

"He might be," she replied meekly, "but... Other than that, I cannot offer too much. You might be bringing up an acquaintance of myself and my family, if that is the case, sir..."

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Marcus Marclyn

"Ha! Got the invite I see! Haha!" And per usual, Marcus hooks his arms around the back of I'sen's neck and smacks his chest hard; his usual way of greeting a fellow man. "Glad you could make it buddy." As he drags the nomad into the kitchen area. Marcus' apartment was bare minimal living. With barely any decoration or furniture. However, he did have plenty of beer and alcohol by the kitchen. "Alright, what would it be today for you?" Marcus looks at his collection of drinks. And without waiting for a response from I'sen, he quickly jumps to conclusion, "Whisky it is! Great choice!" As he pours them a glass. Marcus knew why I'sen was here, he invited him. Marcus is a damaged lonely man, there were nights when being with a woman wasn't enough. And this night was one of them. What he needed now was a buddy, some masculine company. The captain finishes the glass of whisky in one gulp and slams it down. "How's the wife and kids, driving you crazy I bet!" As he jokingly laughs. It looks as if Marcus may have had a few shots before I'sen had arrived. The man was more drunk than usual. Marcus goes up to I'sen, "I like you. You're a good man. Hope the wife isn't trying to 'change' you! You know, women love doing that shit." As he lets out another bellow of drunk laughter, slapping I'sen's back. Roughing him around.

Marcus never really explained to I'sen why he was here, or went into a meaningful deep discussion. He simply just spent the night chatting about nonsense, and having a good ol drunk grand time. Yabbered about the times they kept bumping into each other; asking the nomad about his family and wife; the many types of women they have been with. Marcus has had a long and rough day and just needed a friend by his side to pass the night.

(GOD DAMN! Brown coming out swinging already! She is one feisty lady!!! I LIKIE A LOT! HUEHUEHUE.)

Marcus was commissioned to do his duty. And with that, he kept his mind focus, focused on the mission at hand. The captain refused to get indulged in the petty rivals between these powerful rich people. He's just here to do his job. He hadn't noticed the mansion he was staying at belonged to Brown until she had mentioned it to him. Marcus hated aristocrats and their fancy games. And the many rumors and drama that goes on. It's all too political for him. The only time Marcus listened in on these conversation was for informational purposes. Information that'll help him with his mission, tactical reasons.

When Brown spoke to Marcus, he paid little attention to her. Perhaps because she wasn't part of the mission, or perhaps, like her husband, she was a woman. And men only concerned themselves with other opinion of men. So he simply brushed Brown and her words off. However, he was listening to what she said, because he needed information if it pertain to the mission. He only kept his exterior composure as if he wasn't listening. He did briefly glanced over at Brown's fossil collection because she mentioned it. Then his eyes finally met Brown's for a brief moment. "Yes ma'am." Showing respect to her, agreeing not to touch her fossils. "If you'll excuse me." As he makes his way to the other part of the room to better canvas his surroundings.

(Marcus such a dick ain't he!? LOL. MARCUS WOULD HAVE LOVED HER HUSBAND THO. MUCH LIKE HOW MUCH RYLEX LOVES HIM. HAHAH)

Brown (Human) kafkaesque

- oh sHIT I'm living for this tension between them fhrdsjvsrfdghjsrdfv- Marcus being a dick to Brown is.... valid given that she's one herself, so she's basically getting a taste of her own medicine-

also. now that you bring that up.... he and Skinner should definitely interact at some point.... ~~then he can get the shock of finding out that Skinner was married to this asshole and potentially got killed by her lmfao-~~

---

my response is.... a bit long, so I'm gonna spoiler it to keep my post easy to scroll past. u_u"

Brown, frankly, had no idea why this captain was commissioned to stay the night at her house when... Really, he'd be better off with anyone else's - for a plethora of reasons. The first reason was that she was well-aware that he was here for the sake of some political negotiation; the hearsay surrounding that had arrived long before he did, anyhow, as was always the case. The second reason was that Brown... Wasn't particularly well-liked among the aristocrats. Actually, that was an understatement. Brown was a pariah among her contemporaries - considered the lowest of the low, though nobody had bothered to kick her out of the ranking due to virtue of blood. In a way, it almost seemed like a conspiracy against him, because she honestly believed that with her reputation and scandal, there was no way he'd come here of his own willing.

The third and most egregious reason, however, was that Brown's... Dislike for men wasn't really a secret. When the rumors started to circulate about this burly man from another world, she hoped that he wouldn't end up here, because he was the embodiment of everything wrong with her late husband. Confident to a fault, always focusing on what a man should be, wanting to assert himself all the time... Something along those lines. Just the fact that he was a "man's man" was more than enough to piss her off a bit.

Nevertheless, for the sake of political propriety, Brown agreed to the arrangement, though she still leered at him and growled, "I hope you have as much discipline as your soldiers, if not more." With a haughty laugh, the middle-aged woman carefully wrapped a shawl around her shoulders while she carefully eyed her guest. "That is not a very high bar, though; let me tell you that," she added with a roll of her eyes, "I housed one of your soldiers here once, and he was little more than a dog in terms of behavior. I expect you to not trash the place during your stay, at the very least."

Her eyes drifted off to the side as a toothy bird swooped in from the dining room and landed on the woman's shoulder. For a second, Brown appeared calm while she gently stroked the bird's feathers, then hardening her gaze as soon as she set her sights back upon the man.

"But other than that, I must accommodate you while you prepare for the negotiation," sighed the aristocrat while running a hand through her hair, "so make yourself comfortable. Just not too comfortable, because I do not expect you to stay here for long. Or more than once." The bird on Brown's shoulders chirped at her, though it was quickly silenced as she resumed petting her animal companion.

Leaning against the doorway with crossed arms, Brown grunted, "So... Do you have any questions? And no, I will not provide you with anything beyond the bare basics. So no alcohol, okay? That shit gets you sloshed as fuck, then you will end up destroying this property. I have the money but not the motivation to fix the mess other people make." Said the woman who wasn't exactly guiltless either as she hummed to herself, apparently feeling quite gutsy even if she was aware that her dagger stood no chance against him in a hypothetical fight.

"Also, do not touch my fossils," she hissed more ominously, taking a step forward as she wagged her finger at the fellow. For a moment, her eyes stung with hot tears, though that could've been just a memory of several decades back. "I do not care what you do while you stay here, just as long as you stay respectable, and keep away from the fucking fossils. They are my property - as is the case with my house - but they are more priceless than the rest of my possessions. I will - for obvious reasons - be very displeased if you do anything to them, even if it is just a gentle poke..."

"... And, yes, I do hope the rumors educated you well on just what I might do if you displease me... I am not as frail as you might think... Sir."

dude.... I'd die for your writing tbh..... also bless you for that sweet continuity, because more drama is always fun- :)c

time for a follow-up..... everyone be party rocking in Brown's house tonight, and she's NOT here for it.

Giving the captain one harsh glance, Brown muttered curses under her breath when she heard a gentle knock on the door. She sure hoped it wasn't one of her guest's soldiers, or her friend... It'd be all too humiliating, too compromising for someone who was designated as a wolf. A lone wolf, to be specific. She kept the bird perched on her shoulder, though she made sure to clutch her shawl in her hands, as she approached the door and... Opened it, to reveal a beast.

At first, she thought he was just a man in a costume (for some reason), but after a moment, she threw her head back in a laugh and greeted bitterly, "Oh, you must be here as part of your scheduled programming too? To annoy the nearest aristocrat you can find and stretch the rules of hospitality to the limit?" With a giggle, she waved her hand - her coyness contrasting the acrid tone of her words and the bird glaring at the other party as it ruffled its feathers at him. "So, yes, do come on in. I always have room for more people."

And with that, the woman was off, dramatically spinning on her heels and walking back inside her abode. The other party, unfortunately, was expected to close the door for her. Boo.

It wasn't long before they both arrived in the foyer with her first guest, who appeared to be scanning the house for... Something. Brown narrowed her eyes at him before glancing off to her newest arrival and raising a brow at him. At least this one seems more... Timid. He might be easier to manage than that fucking soldier man over there.

"I recommend that you do so," she hissed, "lest the scandal associated with your arrival cause you to leave early." That was a lie, and it was also quite vague. Brown was more than willing to keep her guests' stays private affairs if she wanted to; she was just a shitty and reluctant hostess, bitter about the fact that she now had to spend the night with - not one, but two - other parties. And they were both male! That was always a lovely trait to have when stuck with a misandrist.

"I will give you the same rules as the man from before," droned Brown as she stroked the feathers of her bird, if only so it didn't go into attack mode, "Make yourself comfortable, but not too comfortable. You promised me that you would leave next morning, anyway, so you might as well start preparing for your departure now. I also don't expect very much from you. Just don't destroy my house - or touch my fossils - and you'll be just fine..." With a hum, she allowed her hands to settle back down by her sides as the shawl's cloth resumed its delicate, almost deceivingly fragile appearance. "But do not expect anything beyond the bare basics. Just food, water, and maybe a place to sleep..."

Raising a brow at the other party's question, the aristocrat then clarified, "Well, technically this house has extra bedrooms, but they are all pretty redundant since I am the sole occupant. Much of them have been renovated into places of study, or where I can take care of my pets." Her eyes drifted over to the bird, then the couches nearby. Wait. Did this mean her guests were literally going to sleep on the sofa tonight? How classy. Brown adjusted the little bow keeping the shawl wrapped around her, before sighing when his offer to repay was brought up. Whether it was a sigh of gratefulness, annoyance, or something else entirely seemed... Ambiguous, thanks to her unreadable face.

"Well, as your hostess," grunted the aristocrat with the faintest hint of a sneer, "I am... Sort of obligated to provide for everything, but... I would not mind an extra hand in cooking, if that does not damage the ego too much. Reduces the individual work enough so we can eat dinner at a reasonable time." She sure hoped that he didn't insist on anything monetary, given that - well - her house kind of spoke for itself. Money was superfluous to her, as Brown adjusted her shoulders to allow her bird to perch more comfortably.

"But... Yes, enjoy your stay," sighed Brown - her disinterest in her guests becoming more and more palpable by the minute, "I will be there if you need me, of course. Just do not expect me to hold your hand like some pretty woman and give guidance to you every step of the way." With another harsh sniff, she started to walk off to the kitchen - if only so she could start preparing the food...

... That hopefully wasn't poisoned.

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Serenity SleepySquish

Man, your writing is incredible! oh boy, I have to write now

After a long day of suffering, fighting, and spending time with friends, Serenity needed sleep. She remembered what happened that day. "Oh no, you are not allowed in your house today." Chancellor had said, although she saw all her other friends inside. "Fine. I will come back tomorrow." She replied. She met a man on the streets, and decided to rent a hotel room, and invite him, even though he tried to decline. For about an hour, they were both silent, and Serenity started to cook. She was cooking chicken, mashed potatoes, and she also made a cake. "So, I feel we should get to know each other. How was your day?" Serenity asked. They had a good conversation, and talked about many different things. They fell asleep after they put dinner away, and she let him sleep on the bed, and she took the floor. They woke up in the morning, Serenity thanked him for he company, gave him the leftovers, and they both left the hotel. (ahhh I suck at writing!)

Follow up: Serenity had fun that night, although it wasn't showing. She normally was not to great with talking, or showing emotions, but the two had fun playing video games and chatting over pizza. She was sad, when it came time to leave, as she was having fun, and got to know them. She gave them a way to talk again, and she left.

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Johnson (Human) kafkaesque

- dfjhvvkjfvfv honestly throwing Alistair into the mix wasn't something I expected, but it's what Johnson deserves lmfao. maybe the two can annoy each other to the point of exhaustion via mind games-

"So, Brown wants you to stay at my house again?" grunted Johnson as he read the note that had been oh-so lovingly written to him by the friend in question. Well, if one ignored the copious amounts of profanity in it, as well as the menacing scribbles that made it look like she had tried to scratch her quill through the paper at multiple points in the writing process. With a tense grimace, he chuckled with a surprising calmness before shifting the note off to the side.

"I'll see what I can do for you, given that... Well, I'm the adult around here, but... You're also her friend. I think?"

He paused to narrow his eyes at the lad. She sure has weird taste in guys, the man groveled with a raised brow, Why would she get this one to invite over? Why not someone who's a little more menacing, unless... Hey. Don't. Johnson blinked for a second, as his stomach started to sink. Maybe she knows about what happened? What happened to my wife? And now she's sending him over to test me? Is that what it is?

It can't be. I worked to hide that from everyone. Especially her. Especially her. And, besides, that's just an assumption. You shouldn't be assuming. You should be rational.

His hands started to crumble up the note - ever so carefully - as he gave the boy a careful smile and suggested, "So, in that regard... I do have to make sure there's something you like... Such as... Puzzles, right?" The older man chuckled tautly before taking a few steps away from him and into the foyer. At that moment, his fingers started to curl up even more around the paper, to the point that his nails started to dig in to the parts weakened by the quill... "I don't know if I have much, like... The jigsaw ones, but... Perhaps a mind game could work?" Shut up, old man. They're literally two different things.

That didn't seem to faze Johnson, however, as he sniffed once more and grumbled, "Though... I think I do have to say... It's a little unusual she keeps dragging me into those situations, ones where I have to accommodate you in some way..." In a louder voice, the man taunted, "Like a real friend, don't you think? I'm sure the roles will reveal themselves in time. The real ones," with a wave of his hand, before taking a few steps farther into the foyer, his expression still as stupidly stoic - but also condescending - as ever while Johnson barely even bothered to glance over at the other party and see how his guest was doing.

"But for now, sir... I suppose I can prepare you dinner. I promise I won't poison the food like she probably would. What did you eat last time, by the way? I can probably get some servants to make that, but... You know, better." Ouch.

Lacie and I are actually low-key 24-hour clock solidarity, but shhhh.... at least Johnson isn't aware that Lacie talked with his wife before- u_u

time for a follow-up. thank you vape for the sweet necromancy.

With a sniff, Johnson folded his hands as he warily - and somewhat wearily - gazed at the middle-aged woman currently sharing the household with him. He, frankly, thought that this was the first time he had allowed someone like her - so meek yet so blunt - inside the premises... Ever. Johnson wanted to make a diss at Smith in the moment, like the wonderful "widower" he was, but he knew that the reference would've fallen through. There was no point in doing so. Smith was far more reserved, far less willing to speak her mind - and of course, Johnson considered that ideal.

"You're a bit brave to be bringing those types of rumors up," remarked the man with a harsh laugh, though relief was also inflected throughout his tone as he leaned back against his chaise. Indeed, he questioned why she'd prioritize his sense of smell - as well as his inability to wink - over the more... Obvious target, but - hey - it wasn't like he was going to complain! Continuing to chuckle under his breath, Johnson added with a wave of his hand, "I mean, as humiliating as they are, at least they're true. And it's not like they're going to really affect me in the long run..."

He bit down on his lip and glanced off to the side.

"Well... Yes..." he affirmed more tensely, "I'm not normally the type of person to host others, as that often creates more work than necessary, but..." Johnson shrugged. This woman was a noblewoman, and so he had to respect her in spite of the doubt bubbling in his stomach; the fact that she was married to the adopted father of the man who had caught him trying to sneak into that greenhouse didn't exactly matter. Was he even aware of that fact? He shifted in his seat again before finishing, "... Sometimes, it's good to change things up a bit."

As he said before he sent his wife off to a hospice, never to be seen by the public again.

He rubbed the skin between his fingers as the woman continued to speak. It was almost calming, in a way, for her to bring up his battles. No, not the ones with the public, or the tabloids. The ones featuring his creatures. Johnson coughed into his sleeve and sniffed, his brow raising in the process.

"I mean, I have to," he stated with a wave of his hand, "They're frequently part of the political processes in this region, though I do find them a bit archaic. These days, private councils are starting to gain popularity, but I guess we're too focused on continuing to maintain some semblance of a republic for the laypeople." Wow. That was said much too casually as he nodded at the tea being offered to him. Johnson actually didn't really care about tea; he was just being polite for once.

"As for people like you, I'm sure you were invited to help normalize relations between the regions... I think? I wouldn't call you a puppet representative by any means, though thanks to tradition, the men are usually the ones with the most power." Yea, tradition that Johnson helped to perpetuate.

With a sigh, Johnson took a tentative sip before nodding and grunting, "I suppose I can go with you, miss. After all, it's better to attend too many than too little. You never know what will transpire in those damn things, you know? You're simply obligated to know about everything, lest something slip through the cracks."