Your OC Is Having A Sleepover With The OC Above

Rolland opened the door for hakim 

" oh you actually came! You didn't sound like you were entirely serious when you offered to come so I didn't really clean up. Sorry about the mess. " 

He took a seat and smiled at hakim suggesting he also take a seat at the chair across from him. He cleared the multiple sketches off the table.

" rosey is actually not home tonight so I guess tonight's a better night than any other! Well I suppose I should make something to eat... what do you like?? "

He asked hakim has he set up a couch bed for hakim to rest on for the night

" I hope you have a good night here "

Noel flinched when the door to his cabin creaked open. It was the middle of the night when he returned home, Rolland in tow. If he wasn't impressed with the stranger's sense of style, he wouldn't have bothered. Simply put, Noel wanted money. If he took someone in for the night, surely they would have something to give in return.

He crept into the house, wincing again when the dirty floorboards whined under his weight. Ahead in the living room, the fireplace was already lit. A short distance from the hearth laid a heap, which he walked closer to, leaving Rolland in the dust.

"Honey," he murmured, kneeling beside the girl on the floor, "Are you awake?"

And, thankfully, she didn't respond. Noel stared at her, blank-faced, before reaching his hand out, but then withdraw it before he made contact. It had been a long time since she slept soundly. He didn't want to ruin that.

"You need to stay quiet." he ordered quietly to Rolland, "If she wakes up, there'll be Hell to pay." The old man pulled himself away somewhat, starting to gather the unclean dishes that laid in the room. "There's leftover venison, you can have some of that. Venison and carrots. That's all we have right now." He stood up with the dirty bowls balanced carefully in his hand. "And where you can sleep..." Noel paused. There wasn't any furniture in the house, save for a single table and chair in the kitchen. He let out a sigh. "Sleep in the kitchen. Come."

Noel led the way out of the living room, into the kitchen. Sure enough, there was indeed a single table and chair. Both were old, both looked like they were about to collapse.

"There's a curtain you can use as a blanket." he said, "Make this worth my time, though, because I'm not one for charity. As in, you better hope you have a bit of cash on you. I need to go to the marketplace soon. I need to pick up a couple fruits and vegetables."

The cool evening air around mid-fall always had a certain familiar comfort to it, despite its unbearable grip over the marsh. The woods below the cliffs rocked gently to the silent beat of the wind, conifers all dusted with the loving mist of the falling rain, their branches fat and close together like they were huddled for warmth. Overcast clouds stretched far from Eļļser, eastwards beyond the union of the Kurzeme and the Zemgale, and westwards over Stratijas and into the sea. Their thick, grey coats wept on the gravel of the long since decommissioned limestone mine and onto the roof of the last standing structure in the hills. The sound of Latvia tapped against the roof.

There was also Silvester, or Mr. Hochstrahler if you're more into that type of thing. He was a lot less attractive than the comforting sounds of a light storm in the outer woodlands of Eastern Europe. He was a miscarriage of the human form, a flesh and blood disaster that somehow got up and walked every single day fully content with the fact he lived in only the vague shape of a person. No, no, it's not that bad. He was too tall, though. His hair looked like it was cut by his mother, which is not a look you need to be rocking at the sweaty, underwhelming age of 35. And his teeth, why, there was never a man who needed braces more desperately. The two in the top front grew out so long, like a deplorable rodent, he couldn't close his mouth all the way anymore. It was no wonder Noel found him insufferable, among other reasons.

He knew that. Both that he was hideous and also that he and Noel were not very good friends. He sat across from him at the two joined steel tables, surrounded by eight other empty chairs like there was a ghostly audience to the thick, chilling awkwardness that hung in the air. The radio played Steamboat Bill under faint static, but there were no words. Silvester bathed in his own sweat, nervously twiddling his thumbs as he tried to avoid eye contact with the older, smellier man.

"I can make you a drink..." Silvester offered, like his throat was closed up and he was too stupid to breathe. "The normal kind-- The one-- The-- Without the..." He folded his hands up and inhaled. "Tea, and the water, if you want it just without the tea. Or, we have milk, but it is worse. Maybe... Do not drink it, nevermind, it is... Uhh, vile." Tentatively he held out a hand with a slightly strained, apologetic smile. "You can have my ginger ale! If you want. You can..."

Hurt by how fucking cringe this all was, the man rubbed his arm like a dog nursing a wounded leg. "It is fine." He rasped to Noel. "I would not care."

A red haired girl of the particularly troll-like variety kicked in the front door, drenched by rain, wearing a stupid face as she launched herself across the room with complete disregard to the two men. The pulled a rusty old caution sign off the wall, which probably hadn't moved since the good year of 1873, and ran out the door again with said sign in tow. Out in the limestone field, the vague shape of what was probably a girl of the particularly Maribelle-like variety waiting for her. The door slammed, and the whole house rattled. That was when Silvester slowly scooted his seat back, the legs of the chair screaming against the floor.

"You can go pick a bed." He said, then paused. "Or you can sleep out here. I cannot stop you." He laughed, or attempted to laugh, and then added with utter agony in his hushed voice, "I will not stop you..."

"We're definitely not sharing a bed, I had enough nightmares to not sleep with monsters on my bed, let alone under them."

That's all he had to say to summarise the sleepover. He was sceptical with having a... bewildering creature Staying over and he knew what the Mist can conjure up but at least it dosent have blood thirsty intentions...yet.

RobbieOfHyrule - Please keep in mind the thread rules regarding post length / sentence minimum! The minimum for this thread is five sentences!

     "Feel free to spend the night here, or more if you need more time repairing your airship," Allegro said just as several freshly cooked dishes were set on the table before the both of them. The prince smiled warmly. "I have to admit, despite all the different species in this world-- and even beyond-- learning about different planets with their own ecosystems is something of a surprise to me. I'm interested in how similar your technology lines up to ours, too," he mused as he looked through the window over his shoulder to see the airship Robi had come in. It was something advanced, yet used similar gears and such. Was this planet not too different?
     "Take your time with the food, as well. I'm not sure what could be poisonous or not to you," Allegro said as he looked back at his guest. He leaned forward, lacing his fingers under his chin. "When you can, I'd love to learn all about your world and your species."

      "So Allegretto, tell me where your from." Said Lance. He had set up a big pillow fort in the bedroom. "I'm the setup seems childish but I'm a child at heart." He blew a large plume of flame into the small furnace. "I bet you've never seen a furnace in a bedroom before." Lance chuckled and curled his tail close to him. Lance listened curiously to Allegrettos stories. He didn't have any daring adventures to share but he talked about funny teacher Stories..

@lovestrucksmile

     Lance smiles. "I have a pair of rowdy werewolf twins in my class. They are quite troublesome." He relaxes his wings. "But they don't have the best parents so I don't blame them for acting out."

Cherk had grown up as a single child and with very little in the way of friends. Sleepover was a new idea, the concept was intriguing to her. She decided to entertain the idea. While she refused to show her face when in the presence of others, she figured that was a small detail that didn't need to be brought to light. Her eyes rested on Xil with curiosity, as they held onto a couple of pillows. She couldn't hide the fact she didn't know how these things worked exactly, but the way that Xil explained it, Cherk was supposed to hit her with the pillow...

"...Pillow fight..." Cherk was debating on whether this was a good idea or not. She had a bit of a reputation when it came to anything that was considered a 'fight'. With some encouragement, in the form of a hit with the pillow, Cherk was persuaded to try and hit them back... with all the force she could bring forth. She ended up hitting Xil hard enough to knock them over with a single hit. There's panic in the air as Cherk leans over the other and tilts her head.

"Sorry!"

(For the person below! I had to respond)

Two rebels, just hanging out. Sort of. Maribelle appreciated the silence from Cherk wherever it was given, but her words didn't bother her, either. They were simple and a tad stunted, but so far, for the younger woman, didn't take too much brain power to decipher. The presence of someone Maribelle considered competent was, of course, a pleasure in itself. The quiet helped, though. She was exhausted of people talking to her at times, and at some point to a physical value, her tongue lazy and her stifling yawns.

Winter wind blew over the cliffs, the sparse mountain foliage shifting in the breeze. The smoke from the pair's campfire, too, wafted with the breeze, the flames flickering feebly before them. Maribelle tried to look for more wood and tinder, but there wasn't much around that was dry. It appeared that Cherk had more luck, however -- on the side of them, between their separate tents, a few logs and branches sat in a pile. Now and then, Maribelle stuck a branch in, but all that seemed to do was smother the fire further, the smoke becoming more dense.

"It's not going to live for long." she pointed out, hopelessly, and as if it wasn't more her fault than Cherk's, "We might as well just go to sleep. Being awake out in the cold... it's more dangerous. I think it is."

Maribelle rose from her seat and looked back at the tusken, scrutinizing her. She wasn't sure if she herself spoke too much or too little, but she figured that if, at any point, that Cherk didn't understand her, then that was fine. Maribelle could live with it, anyway.

"..I can sew your robes, if you'd like me to." She then offered. Despite her earlier suggestion, she wasn't all that tired. Or maybe she was avoiding sleep, daunted by what might come for her. "I'd say I'm good at that... I think. I can fix some of those tears, anyway. I always bring my thread with me on these excursions. You never know when... someone is going to get ripped up... I hope there are none of those birds out here."

i think it's just time to accept the fact that en is a time traveler .

(idk which maribelle hangs out with older en bc the timeline's broken so i'm going to assume it's current tab her)

     The training grounds sparked with a furious battle, the constant clanks of swords echoing throughout the large yawn. The king stood there, keeping up with the flurry attacks, yet still smiling softly. "Your swordplay has gotten incredible, Maribelle," he praised. "There are still a few blind spots, but we can work on that later. It's getting late." He sheathed his sword and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
     "How has that new sword been working for you, anyway? It seems like you're used to it. It's almost like an extension of you." He looked at the silver blade. It was a well loved weapon.

     Thunder rumbled overhead. En looked up at the thickening clouds. "It looks like there'll be bad weather soon. Why don't you stay the night here? There are more than enough guest rooms, and we have a stable for your horse, too," he suggested. He quickly smiled. "Come on, I'm sure you'll love it here. It also means more sword practice tomorrow morning!"
     Already, En was moving towards the doors, feeling a few stray droplets of rain. "The rain brings out the bugs," he said in an almost warning tone, though he tossed an apologetic smile Maribelle's way from over his shoulder. "Would you mind getting my daughter for me while I make sure dinner is ready? I'm sure she's in the garden. You'll probably hear her scream before anything. She's not very good with bugs."

You can reply to him, his younger self, or his evil self!

“I didn’t expect to see you again.” Fukagawa said honestly, “Nor share a room with you, so don’t judge me for not expecting guests.” 

He sighed, and sat down in the small chair in the corner of the inn’s chamber. It was uniform to the rest of the place, which only had one bed and a single square foot window to look out of. Fukagawa usually didn’t make accommodations, and he had actually rented the room for another person, but it was free for another day, so who cared. 

“Hopefully it’s to your tastes. Your highness. I mean, it’s better than sleeping under a tree… in the rain… a somewhat lengthy distance from your castle as well, I presume.” He rested his head on his clawed hand, and watched the king for another somewhat awkward moment with his golden round eyes. I’m that moment he didn’t look menacing, just out of place, maybe even a little anxious. 

Fukagawa nodded his head. “…uh, you can have the bed to yourself. Most of the time I don’t sleep and, well— if I need to, I’ll just sleep on the floor or in this chair—“ He looked sharply away from En’s gaze, and to the little window which still had nothing of a view. The air of the place was thick with tension Fukagawa didn’t like. He clawed the armrest with his free hand like how a cat kneaded it’s claws, and hoped the night would end soon. So, he could escape from this place, and situation.

Veritas shrugged off his bag. It was old dusty and FILLED with knick-knacks. Looking around the dingey room his face portrayed a rather annoyed face. He wasn't annoyed at all really. Only confused, dude was fuckin stacked fer cash by the looks of the clothes. Sunward Isle in origin. Man looked like he was running a damn castle. Then here he was fuckin squatting in a dingy shack. But he couldn't help it, a smile poked through his face. Wild and childish in nature "MAN THIS PLACE FEELS LIKE I'M BACK ON THE RUN!" he declared practically leaping onto a broken-down couch. 

It hurt like hell but gah damn did it feel good to not have a normal room to sleep in. The O'tsin raised an eyebrow as Veritas and with a surprisingly calm voice, he asked "Why would you be excited about being....On the run? I mean it seems like hardly anyone would like that" Veritas raised his own eyebrow and rolled off the couch and onto the floor into a crossed legged sitting position. Or as he liked to call it, Criss Cross Tomato Sauce. He had to think about the question as he rolled himself side to side. Man it was weird to be this full of energy outside of a scrap again 

"Weeeeeeeeelllllll- This about it this way, if ya can't die an ya want ta. Ya'd wanna feel a sense of danger. Mine was the utter FUCKIN BOREDOM that would be a prison" He explained before shooting up to his feet and a smile beaming across his face "I'll take the couch, ya can have the bed. Considerin this is yer place after all eh?"

"That scar of yours is awfully nasty." Melantha said. Her icy gaze were fixated on Veritas, studying him, and behind her, another pair of eyes watched. The older man was quiet, hunched nearby, silent. Maybe he was just shy. [He was not. Do not talk to him.]

"It makes me wonder what could have caused it." The teenager's voice was... taunting, cruel in an airy sort of way, her lip quirked into a sneer at the man before her. "Maybe you don't even remember. Sometimes, I don't remember much of anything." She settled her back against her retainer. "Maybe it was one of those men you carry yourself with, what a mess they seem to be. Not that I can say Benito is much better. He'd be able to crush all of you, though. Right, Benny?"

Melantha jabbed Benito in his stomach, though he continued to only glare at Veritas with his odd-colored eyes. It was hard to say he was really listening to the conversation, barely reacting to his liege's nudge. Then, Melantha laughed. "He's pathetic."

"You don't seem so much so." Melantha then continued on, "If you ever find yourself in the market for it, you seem strong enough to hold your own in a fight, if not thin, and my family is wealthy. Or, my brother is. I haven't a gold on me, just some Yene coppers and silvers for supplies, but I feel my offer still stands, right? I'll take all that bug's money and hand it over to you, if I have to. It's not like he's a big party-thrower like Papa was. Just let me know before we pass out."