“Man it feels like forever since I’ve had a slumber party!” Taga swished his tail around as he prepared the beds. “Me and my pal Candy use to have sleepovers all the time.” The pair of twin beds were placed neatly next to each other with plenty of space. Both beds had matching pink sheets and blankets. “The sheets used to be white until I washed them with reds on accident.” Taga giggled and tossed Melantha a couple pillows. “If your cold, there’s extra pillows in the closet. Oh and the bathroom is just down the hall.” Taga stopped blabbing and started making biscuits on his blanket (you know like what cats do) He started purring a bit and his pupils got all big. Perhaps he didn’t notice he was doing it? Maybe it was an instinct? After several minutes, Taga snapped back to normal and finished making the bed.
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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Dropping a loose, beaten sleeping bag, he glances over to Taga. Honestly, he didn't know him at all; but he had seen him around and that was enough to warrant him busting into his house during the evening one night. "Thanks for letting me come in." He pockets his hands into the back of his jeans, fishing around for a pack of cigarettes he knew he had. To be frank, he wasn't sure why Taga was handling this well, but luckily he was. After spotting Cyrus breaking in through a window, he must've accepted his fate to let him stay the night. That, and well; maybe he just had a good heart and saw that there was a terrible storm thundering the entire city. "I was planning on sleeping outside in the graveyard to see if I'd get possessed, but maybe we can just do a séance here."
He lifts a hand and places it against Salvador's head as it rubs against him. "Nah. It's not stupid." His focus remains forward, as if he's seeing something that isn't actually there. He wasn't. Though he had an unfortunate ability to get so zoned out sometimes that he simply couldn't bring his eye-attention elsewhere for a moment or two. "You want to be helpful." But sometimes helpful could only bring more terror, he'd add. Necromancy wasn't an uncommon practice, but the stories he heard on the internet from it often resulted in more heartbreak than the first episode of grief someone endured at another's passing. His own abilities to completely mutate a person's DNA, body and mind could probably make a disgusting, rat-like skeleton if he tried to spit on bodies. Saying that all to his friend, however? He simply couldn't do that to him in the moment.
As Salvador drifts off, he glances down to him. He, himself, wouldn't fall asleep; but at least he could wonder what the other was dreaming of and if it were nightmares or more favorable things.
[soft bois...my fav]
“Ive been thinking,” Salvador said. He’d been laying on his back the entire time, his eyes glued to the ceiling above them. His legs were crossed, arms lay beside his head, he almost looked like he was crucified. Luckily for Salvador, it was without the cross and without blood.
It was the middle of the night, and Salvador’s mind ran slow. Mind fog. Fatigue slowly crept up to him and made him slur his words. But he was too stubborn to fall asleep. Well, to fall asleep first. “Ive been thinking,” he repeated. With a yawn.
“About death,” he said. Salvador’s eyes switched towards Cyrus. Hoping to see the other’s reaction. The Half could feel his heartbeat go faster in his chest. Salvador set back up. His hair peaked in all directions. His moustache roughened.
“If I can come back from the dead,” Salvador said. Calculated. “And if yóu can come back from the dead…” he added. Salvador frowned. “Maybe we can combine our powers to bring other’s back,” he said. Salvador’s frown deepened. He placed his (in slipper shrouded) feet beside the bed and moved over to Cyrus’ sleeping place. The veins in his lower arm and hand darkened as he summoned his Leemte. The Half set down beside Cyrus’ sleeping place, studying his cursed hand for a second before looking at the other again. Almost, hopefully.
“You spit on them,” he instructed. “Green spit. On dead bodies,” he corrected. “And I poke them.” Salvador even wobbled his fingers to make a statement. Leemte jumped between his fingers. “In the cheek. I do not want to poke their eyes,” he shivered. “Nor in their noses.”
Salvador planted his head against Cyrus like an awkward but friendly cat. He let out his breath. “No. Stupid idea,” Salvador said. As he finally recognized his own of sleep-deprived fantasies. “Maybe you can spit on people. Living humans. And I poke them,” Salvador mused drowsily. He knew enough annoying people he wanted to poke in the cheek. "In the cheek." Void... He maybe even wanted to poke them in the eye. “Or in their eyes.”
--
Salvador looked up. “There are things outside,” Salvador said. He toyed with his dice as he pulled his legs up to his sleeping roll. He didn't feel like sleeping. “Half dead. Half life. Came back from the death,” Salvador said. He tossed his dice. 2 sixes. Scooped them up and rolled them around his fingers once more.
“It is real,” Salvador snorted. A bit too defensive for someone pretending he wasn’t one of these people. “They don’t,” Salvador added with a frown. Void he wished he had a cat with him as well. But alas. The Half tossed his two dice again and paused. “You’re mostly dead for half an hour tops. Before it happens,” he said. “The returning.” That is if when your body was.. Whole enough. Salvador’s fingers stopped playing with the dice. His father had no chance to return. Fire leaves little to return too. His lips twisted.
“It, heals.. Injuries though. A snapped neck, a broken leg,” Salvador’s hand reached for his own leg but paused. “It doesn’t.. Regrown things though,” he said. The half shook his head.
“I’m not sure,” he replied to Mori’s opinion. “If I could bring back my father I would.”
From a couch, not too far away, sat a single masked man. He kept his face turned to a nearby window, but looked over at Salvador once the man spoke. Instead of butting in, he waited. Mori gave a small shrug, although he doubted anyone would see it.
"Coming back from the dead?" he echoed, voice no louder than a soft murmur. Unlike the others nearby, he was wide awake. Mori felt like he had just woken up from a good rest, which he didn't. He'd been awake for the past fifteen hours. He scratched the back of his head. "It's a funny thought. Like the things you only see in fairytales or horror stories- whichever one you want to believe." He looked down to his lap, where a single cat was resting. He recalled it well- he didn't want to come here alone, so he brought his feline companion, Ai. She had long since passed out, but would no doubt be up before long.
"But what about those who have long since decayed? Ashes, bones, dirt, would they form into a person?" He let out a half-hearted chuckle at the thought. A lumbering, hulking mass of ash, formed to vaguely represent a human.
"...but, sometimes, it's best to let dead dogs lie." Mori turned his eyes back to Ai, scratching between her ears. "Let the dead take their rest."
Kyle turned to Mori as he set up their beds. “So your a funeral director, that sounds cool I guess. I help my best friend run a sketchy shop downtown.” He sat down on his bed and fixed his hair. “It must be weird to be sleeping over at a zombies house. Don’t worry I can’t eat you, my ripped intestines won’t allow it.” Kyle let sat back up and did some stretching. “Zombies are pretty nocturnal so I’ll be awake tonight working. I’d appreciate if you stay quiet in the morning so I can sleep.”
"A sleepover, a sleepover! I love sleepovers. :)" Smiley hummed as he climbed through the broken window. He dusted bits of glass off him, the cuts already closing up, and picked up the golf club he brought with him, turning to look at Kyle. "How strange you look. So, so strange. :) You have stitches all over yourself! :) Are you hurt? :) Oh dear, oh dear. That's no fun is it? :) No fun at all. :) It must hurt so much. It must, it must. :) Is that why you're not smiling? :) Don't you worry one bit, I'll fix that up for you. :) I'll stay here all night until you're happy again. :) It will be a fun, fun sleepover. :)"
Carmel didn't even look at Smiley entered the living room, head leaned against the back of her couch with her eyes closed. Upon hearing him talk, a smile tugged at the corners of her lips, and she turned her head towards him and allowed for her eyes to flutter open. Ignoring the fact that he'd never been welcomed in by anyone in the home, she spoke to him in a honeyed voice, sweet and laced with cheerful warmth that would be enough to make anyone else uncomfortable. "Sleepover? Hmm, I'm not too sure about that. I'm not too fond of sleepovers. But if you'd like to stay for a while, be my guest, I suppose. I wouldn't mind a little bit of company." She gestured to the couch next to her, her eyes never drifting away from the bag-headed man for a moment. Her eyes glittered from the much too sugary sweet smile displayed on her face, and she tipped her head to the side for a moment as she scrutinized Smiley. "Don't be shy now. Come sit next to me." Patting the couch next to herself, she seemed outwardly warm and welcoming towards the strange man.
"Can I be perfectly honest?" Carmel's sugary sweet voice lowered, almost a whisper, and she leaned in Smiley's direction with a rather serious look in her eyes. "You're rather peculiar and strange but I like that. I don't mean that in any weird or bad way whatsoever. But you seem quite interesting." She crossed one leg over the other, her thoughts buzzing noisily around in her head. Indeed Smiley was like none other she'd ever seen before, and he was certainly not pleasant from all of which she was observing from him so far, but really Carmel couldn't bring herself to care all the way. Of course she wasn't going to merely ignore the oddly weary feeling Smiley warranted, but she wasn't going to acknowledge it either. She didn't have a liking towards safe feelings anyways. At least not for long. "Come have a conversation with me. I would love to know a bit about you, especially if we're to have a sleepover together."
He grimaces, looking outside the window to the flooding, rainy area. Though he had gone to the store for a quick trip, it was looking like he wasn't going to be able to make it home no thanks to the high waters running among the streets and flooding everyone's vehicles. It wasn't completely abnormal that this happened, but it was still annoying and exhausting. There was a time before when the shop keeper wouldn't let anyone leave and go home for the night and he'd been miserable the entire time. Stuck with elderly people and middle aged parents with their children was one of the worst times he'd had. This chance around.. wasn't much better. There was the owner of the store, his teenage employees who were telling their parents where they were, an older couple and a girl near his age that looked like she tumbled right out of a Pintrest aesthetic. To be honest, out of all of the people around, he'd probably prefer her company; but.. there was seriously something wrong with her. He couldn't quite pin what it was, but he was both repulsed and drawn to her general presence- which usually meant, in his experience, that there was some sort of narcissistic or self entitled behavior somewhere in her. He both loved and loathed those people. They were so strong and yet so horrible to his mental health.
Running his tongue over his lips, he releases a sigh and sets himself down in a chair nearby the register. There's another beside him and the girl takes it. As he glances to her, she offers him a smile and he quickly looks away. It was intimidating and also charming. Two things that could only end badly. "Sorry. Am I in your way?" He mutters, knowing fully well he probably wasn't. But.. who knew, maybe she knew someone in here and wanted to sit with them. Either way, this was going to be a long, long, long, long evening.
(V. I've gotta reply to him ofjsjahd he's so good)
Even though Justin was the one who suggested the sleepover, he was almost starting to regret it. He didn't know Dallas very well, and half of what he did know amounted to Dallas judging him on more than one thing. Quite fairly, for the most part, in his defense; Justin knew he was far from a shining example of health and good habits, especially to someone who had actually gone to med school. Hell, normally for anyone he invited up to his room, he'd invite them to smoke a bowl, or maybe even do something harder - but he didn't know how the former paramedic would take it. So he settled on video games and snacks instead.
He found himself glancing at Dallas out of the corner of his eye more than once. Dallas was very... pretty, for a man. Not something he was used to. He found himself wondering more than once what it would be like to kiss him, even if they didn't quite get along. But there was something about that, too, that was appealing. He shook himself out of his thoughts and focused on the game and the half-eaten bowl of chips sitting on the floor between them.
"Hey," he said, speaking for what felt like the first time in ages. "After this round, do you wanna uh... Go take a turn on the dance floor or something? We've got about-" he paused to glance at his watch, "-another hour before we close downstairs. Might as well jam a bit more before bed."
---
Keeping his patrons satisfied was always something Justin was concerned with, so Uno was far from the first person he'd tried to comfort. He'd get the occasional newcomer, or even a regular who had more anxiety than usual that night, and it was times like these he was glad he had the extra rooms off to the side. And just as often, if he thought they'd be cool with it, he'd invite people upstairs to wind down away from the music with a game or two.
Uno had a mysterious sort of air about him, but then again, so did a lot of people in New York. Justin didn't have too much trouble chatting with him, anyway. But it still came as a surprise when, out of nowhere, Uno grabbed his hand to admire his nails.
"Oh-" Justin let out a small laugh as he took in the other man's red nails. "Yeah, I've been painting them for a while now. I've tried a few other colors in the past, but I like black the best. Just seems more fitting for me, y'know? Goes better with my whole vibe - if you'll, uh, pardon the pun."
Claim! If my idea doesn't work for you let me know!(when it's posted haha)
edit: AND DONE!
double edit: Created Uno a little tab for the 'human' reference. for ease of ref
Loud noises and Uno never really mixed well together. So, it's easy to be confused as to why the man would be in a club of all places. Loud music. Loud people. It was all starting to become rather overwhelming for him. It must have been rather evident that he was ready to blow a fuse, as Uno had gotten approached by the owner of the club. The owner seemed- friendly enough. Uno had seen him mingling around with other guests as well- but seeing as the foxed looked to be in distress, Uno figured he might temporarily take precedence over other guest. How kind.
After being led to more quiet area in the club, the fox sat with Justin. While- Uno was a 'mythical' beast down to his core, his usual ears and tail were not anywhere in sight, having been disguised away with the aid of magic. Magic he was incapable of using, but hey, his siblings could and thus the man sits looking perfectly human. Well...save for the stark white hair that perfectly framed his face- but hey hair dye exist.
Uno was more than happy to accept the invitation for a place to rest and chill out for a moment, or perhaps the night, thanking Justin for the kindness.
"Your nails are black?" A soft voice you wouldn't expect to come from such a muscular man, as in true Uno fashion the fox is grabbing Justin's hand without permission to peer at the other male's nails. "Have you tried other colors?" Uno's own nails were painted red in comparison.
((fellas it's a classic to paint nails at a sleepover is it not?))
Uno gazed at his little dream buddy through long white lashes, listening as Narciso rambled on. He couldn't help it, the fox couldn't help it- a snicker escaped his mouth as a perfectly manicured hand moved up to cover his mouth. He tried to hide his laugh as best he could, but it couldn't be stopped. " Oh? Is that all?" The fox asked with a final laugh, eyes gleaming as he grinned wide, flashing those peculiarly sharp canines of his.
He moved his hand from his face, bending his finger in a 'come hither' motion. He'd help poor Narciso, but for that to happen, the other man would have to listen to whatever it was Uno needed from him during the process.
"I'm glad you could be here so quick." The heels of Jan-Paul's shoes made a soft click-clack as he strolled through the long hall of his mansion. "This is a very, important case, mister detective," the youth continued. He paused his steps. Turned around. Then looked Fletcher over with his raised eyebrows. "A very important, fragile job. I can't allow any screw-ups. Any missteps." Jan-Paul smiled. His sharp teeth pricked from underneath his lips. His feline eyes narrowed themselves to small slits.
"There are thieves, you see, mister detective. Thieves that want to break into my mansion and steal my gold. I cannot let that happen." Jan-Paul turned his back at Fletcher again and started to walk. "Thieves attack at night. That's why I called you over. You can see it as a," he rolled his hand thoughtfully. As if he could manufacture the words out of the air. "Sleepover. If you like," Jan-Paul couldn't help but chuckle at his own words.
"I have a guest room set up for you. It has a bed, a bath and a desk. Some water and food too." Jan-Paul took a turn in the hallway. Expecting Fletcher to follow him, he continued. "I'll be sleeping there as well... As well.." he didn't feel safe in his master bedroom. His uncle had told him that those thieves, those krakers aimed for his bedroom first. What if they managed to sneak in? What if they stabbed him? Slit his throat? Jan-Paul couldn't repress a shiver. No. he needed protection. Protection from a professional. "As well, I want to keep my eye on your progress," he lied through his teeth. "And maybe learn a thing or two. I've heard some good stories about you and your weapons," Jan-Paul glanced over his shoulder towards the mercenary with raised brows. His eyes rested on the pump-action shotgun on the other's hip. "Are surely impressive. You keep me safe, and in return I give you company. I can tell you all about the city if you like. I'm an important merchant. Furthermore, I know everything that goes on in this city... I won't be boring you, the entire night, as you try to work, sir detective. Not only that, but I promise you that my words are worth listen too." They were certainly not.
--
I forgot I posted here but 😭😭😭 I can't believe that I have feelings for these two
"We shouldn't be painting out in the rain." Aminia said. She stood at the window, gingham drapes pulled back behind her as she peered outside across the once-colorful and now-dreary gardens of Sauveterre, flowers swaying with the stormy wind and the lanterns snuffed out where they were strung up on high threads. She was used to the rain. Back in Rozabela, there seemed to be a storm -- heavier than this one -- that would strike the city. "A shame." she added on a sigh, "It was a pretty twilight while it lasted."
Aminia turned to look at her guest. This wasn't the first time she had him over, and she assumed it wouldn't be the last, as disgruntled as her lord would be over the situation. Courtesies were to be had, however, and Jan-Paul was a businessman. He was to be welcomed with open arms. The tension that radiated from her lord, however, seemed to go over Aminia's head, and she walked to the easterling, calm as could be.
"I don't exactly have a guest room or anything." she said to him, "Lord Alkaev is all compassionate, but he is a bit stingy with where he places the garden people like me. There just has to be enough space, and not anymore than needed, you know?" She sighed again. "It can be such a bother, though. I'm sure you don't have to worry about anything like that, Sir Jansen... I can call you Jan-Paul still, right? I feel so stiff..."
"..That said, you can have my room, if you really want to." Aminia offered, "Or you can sleep on the chaise. I doubt I'll be around after the rain is over, anyway. I must be ready for his call, and besides, I don't much like resting at night. Fennel will be here, too! You would just need to feed her before you sleep, if that's okay."
That dog did not need to be fed as often as it did.
"I mean, make yourself at home and all." she then concluded, "There's juice and blankets and food. Take whatever you want!"