Ask The OC Above About Another OC!

Posted 3 years, 3 months ago (Edited 3 years, 3 months ago) by PolarisStorm

Okay, I've had this idea for a while, but I didn't know if I could put it out in text right. Well, I can try, at least!

So, basically, your OC asks the OC above them asks something about another OC that the person above owns. The question can be nearly anything! Just keep in mind that the OC above may or may not actually know much about the specific question.

So, anyway, rules:

Important things first, no NSFW at all. I can't mature block this. Keep my Nachtkrapp eyes pure, please!
Sensitive/triggering content is allowed, but must be blacked out or in a spoiler box. If you're not sure, it's better to be safe than sorry.
I highly suggest to people that they put, at the very least, what universe/storyline their character is in, if any! This is to avoid someone asking about an OC from a completely different universe that the above OC has literally no idea about.
As already stated, the question must be about an OC that the above person owns! So don't ask the above person about one of your OCs or about a completely random character that you found somewhere.
Questions and answers should both be IC! As in, the character is asking, not you, and likewise with answering.
That being said, I'm not going to require answers, as I know how stressful follow-ups can be sometimes. However, they are highly recommended, as it's part of what makes the game fun!
Don't be rude! Rude OCs are okay, but I won't tolerate people being rude OOC.
Please wait for at least 2 replies or 24 hours to go by before responding again.

Alright! If this goes IC, please ignore it. The first person who posts can get a freebie! If nobody posts in an hour or two, I'll throw one of my babies in the fray.

~~_{Lowkey wheezing at that 4-way snipe we started with, not gonna lie.}~~

Vapor

breaks down door. me. i start.

dw about it! this thread started off with a bit of a blunder anyway so its understandable :'V anyways, answer under spoiler.

"Yes, single. And no, he will not."

Oh... That didn't take long at all.

"There are multiple things that go into courting my nephew, and it isn't simply his choice and his alone." Flavio told Ace, lip curled into a thoughtful frown, "If I live to see him involved, I'd like it to be with someone well-suited to our society, to the old mountains. And... I'm afraid that isn't someone like you. Which doesn't mean you aren't worthwhile. Your pursuit of knowledge is most respectable, something that not too many take the path of."

The older man paused, chewing on his bottom lip as he looked her over a second time. He... hated to admit it, but... "Besides, you won't be able to break through to him, I'm almost certain of that. To put it simply, he isn't a people person."

Wonder who he gets it from.

Ace LostPocong

(being the first to write a response is a little stressful for me, since I like looking at other people's posts before I write one myself... I hope this will suffice.)

"So your son, Hakim, I was wondering... Is he single? If I asked him to go out with me, do you think he'd say yes?"

Long answer is long.

Sitting back, the magician began to explain, „I can see why you would doubt the existence of magic, it doesn’t exist in your world, right? But there are other worlds where it does exist, where it’s both demonstrable and, somewhat, predictable.” She grabbed her glass and held it up, saying, “Here, watch this,” as the glass was enveloped in fire. When the flames died down, and the water inside was boiling, she said, “See? No smoke and mirrors, I can just do things like that without any trickery.”

“Enchanted… Armor. Uh, let me think,” Ace said, confused by misunderstanding. She answered Rochesters concern by saying, “Don’t be silly, I like talking to you. I can understand not being interested in magic if you can never use it, so- Oh you mean Lea! It’s not her armor, her enchantments affect her body.”

She explained, “Well, her magic is fundamentally different then mine. The humans of Prava use magic given to them by the Ouroboros, while my magic is unique and… unrefined at the moment. I mean, I could share it with others, but if I want them to survive then I need to work out some kinks first.“ She took a sip of water, scalding herself, and continued, “So, the humans of Prava got all sorts of different abilities, it’s almost as if every spell is it’s own kind of magic, and Pam- the Ouroboros, can only give them to one person since she loses them when she gives them away. They are also… pretty bad at using magic. They don’t really know what they’re doing, they just use them instinctually. In Lea’s case, she subconsciously cast her spell to get stronger and then just didn’t know how to reverse it.”

Fearing Rochester would get bored of all this magic talk, Ace was relieved when books were brought up. Although, had the old woman really forgotten about the time she visited Dantalion’s library? Maybe she just doubted her memories since there was no way she could deny magic after literally passing through a portal to another dimension… Regardless, Ace answered, “Well, it helps to know a few things about Prava, like history, geography or the local wildlife. Dantalion never visited that world, so there’s no information about it at her library. I have looked at the magic books as well, but they are not very useful. Since they don’t really understand how it works, all they can do is document what sort of magic they’ve seen.”

The demon sighed at Rochester’s comment comparing scientists and magicians. She grabbed her glass and again it was set aflame. Ace said, “Look, it’s repeatable. I can also do experiments, how about this: What do you think will happen if I increases mana concentration?” The flames became brighter and the glass started glowing. “And if I change the polarity,” she said, as the flames rapidly shrank and turned the water into ice. Ace hadn’t rehearsed this trick though, so she was startled when the glass suddenly shattered due to the sudden change in temperature. “Oops… But my point is, if you can repeat it, you can study it. And what else is science but studying things?”

Rochester (Human) kafkaesque

"Honestly, I probably should not be the type of person to be asking this sort of shit," Rochester grunted while leaning back in her seat and chewing on a grape, "if only because I never found magic to be a practical source of... Well... Enlightenment. Why focus on something that is arbitrary at best and outright fabricated at worst, when you can focus on what can be objectively seen right in front of you? There is a reason why science is commonly considered as an antithesis to magic, after all..."

Yet in spite of the somewhat harsh words, there appeared to be a degree of warmth in the older woman's words... Almost like she was familiar with the other party, in a way? Still, it was a vague feeling. Maybe Rochester just felt like being nice; if she was familiar, she kept her lips tight on that matter, instead focusing her efforts on plucking another grape, then eating it. Wow.

"That asides," the elder sniffed while coughing into her sleeve, "I do have to give credit where credit is due. The magic here, somehow, isn't all focused on the same thing. You can cast spells, but I have heard of someone who uses said magic to enchant her armor, or..." Rochester trailed off to swallow the chewed-up pulp of grape. "... Something like that... You know how old women babble at times. I would not be surprised if this was no exception, and you only listen to me out of pity. Not only because I have no magic in my blood, nor interest in such a subject, but also due to my age."

Mellowly chuckling to herself, she now asked, "So... I hope it does not come off as insulting to you if I ask how the magic system works. Is the magic she uses to enchant her armor different from the one you use for your magic tricks, or... Are they essentially just the same, just in different forms?" Rochester blinked, then leaned in slightly while smacking her lips together. That... Was probably a genuine question, funnily enough.

Rochester's voice, nonetheless, still drawled while continuing to inquire, "But enough about magic, though. What about books? I remember you being associated with books once, but I cannot exactly figure out where exactly..." With a sniff, she scratched at the side of her head. "... Not that it matters, of course. Old lady memories and shit like that. What sorts of books do you check out from her, by the way? At least when you have the time to do so? Magic books?" The last phrase had a slightly amused trill while Rochester leaned back in her seat and sniffed. Again.

"She is a librarian in her spare time if I remember correctly," recalled the older woman in slight awe, "so... As someone who is married to a journalist, I cannot help but ask. Sure, a journalist and a librarian are rather different, but..." She chuffed while leaning in to cup her hand against her cheek. "At least they are less different than a scientist and a magician, yes? The bar is quite low in that regard if you ask me."

a late answer is a late answer.... anyways, Rochester can oscillate between "eat the rich" and "oh god my interns" as a treat.

Rochester raised a brow at the other party’s question before leaning back in her seat and laughing, “Oh, of course I do! I kind of have to, anyhow. Do you see how many people fucking kiss their asses every damn day!? It’s tiring as fuck in time!” Sure, that wasn’t the most professional first impression, and Rochester knew that… All too well, to be completely honest.

There was no denying, on the other hand, that all of this shit was absolutely cathartic to her. Was there going to be another chance for her to absolutely call out the rich like this again? Hell no! Or at least… Probably hell no!

Thus, she was going to go apeshit.

“Besides,” she continued with a twirl of her hand, “it’s so damn jarring how they can basically roll around in their luxuries while others have to sleep in the literal damn dirt at night- You would think that with much spoon-fed to them, they would at least realize that what privileges they have are not meant to be taken for granted-” Rochester broke off with a shake of her head before placing her hands on her hips. “- Pah, not that I see that shit happening in the first place, of course. The status quo is one of the greatest temptations out there if you ask me…”

Oof.

She raised her brow at the equine’s further questioning, replying with a grunt, “If I have to be honest with you, not really. The tight circles are usually an upper-class thing, and thank the fucking skies for that. It’s probably why they cannot adapt to anything that goes on outside of it.” Ah. So the attitude was still being kept up. One of Rochester’s hands nonchalantly rubbed against her hip while the elder peered over her shoulder, then let out a sigh. “Besides, to be honest… The regions these days are all rather large, though some are obviously much larger than others. It would be impractical to know everybody, even when it comes to the north and the south-

“Oh, and the east and west. But most people give a shit about the north and south if you ask me.”

Which… Wasn’t at all what was being uttered by the horse now, as the topic shifted over to… A certain someone- Two certain someones, actually. Both parties were Rochester’s former interns, though one was… A bit more personal to the other.

Spin the wheel, find out whom it was.

“Pourife, you mean?” the older woman interjected, “Oh, well… He is definitely a worthwhile successor. I worry a bit too much about him getting involved in politics at times, but he is able to maintain his quality of research for the most part.” She was still going to roll in her grave when she found out the shit that her former intern was up to, though! Speaking of rolling in one’s grave…

That mention of a certain “up and coming paleontologist” made Rochester tense up her shoulders and mutter, “Well… Shit happened to her - I suppose…” Her voice seemed unusually soft and whispery while she shook her head and kept her arms close to her bosom. “... She did go off the deep end at some point, but it was also inevitable… In a way. At least… That’s what they say now, of course. I have not seen, uh, her in years… Decades even. That is understandable, yes?”

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Aiden salternate

I'm allowed to interact with rainbow ponies...as a treat. But holy heck, this stuttering loser bombarded Mystery with questions. Spoilerizing for length; don't feel forced to answer every single question!

"Hiya, horsie," Aiden muttered, staring at the pegasus who trotted up next to him. He paused to lift up his hand, allowing his lips to purse while he stroked her mane. How odd; he absolutely did not suspect that this horse was merely a Changeling. He probably would have been sent in a panic if he were exposed to the grotesque-looking equine she truly was.

However, he wasn't, and that's good for Aiden. The teenager fluttered his eyelashes, allowing his lips to slightly twitch while he continued petting the horse.

"I-I-I would have brought my friend, b-bbut, well...she's r-r-really scared of horses. Horses are a no-no for her. I-I-I hope you understand, and I d-didn't mean to-to offend you."

After slightly tilting his head, he lowered his hands down to Mystery's cheeks. While he rubbed his palms against her face, he forced himself to suppress his chuckle. Great. He's having a conversation with a horse. Does he even know that she might not understand him? Does he know that she could possibly respond to him? Who knows?

"So, do-do-do you have any siblings? Like, a sister, or-or maybe a brother? Were you close with them? I don't have any siblings; it's just me, my mom, and my mama—oh, and my-my-my little g-girl..." Aiden's lips curled up into a smile upon cooing his sentiment. He heaved out an exhale and glanced up—only to examine the pony's somber expression. The more he examined it, the quicker his grin faltered into a frown.

"O-Oh, uhm, did I say something wrong? Oh, no, no, no, I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to upset you...did something happen to your sibling?" After he shifted in his spot, Aiden craned his head and blinked rapidly at the disguised changeling, smacking his lips as he did so.

"You know what, let's ch-ch-change the subject. Ooh, how about any horse friends of yours? Like that brown one over there? Look behind you." Aiden abruptly pointed his finger forwards, allowing his lips to smack before he shifted in his spot. Scarlet Dawn, who was in the background, was minding her own business (presumably).

"Yeah, her. Is-is-is that your best friend? What's your favorite thing about her? Ooh, more importantly...how long d-did you know her? Ooh, I-I'm asking so-so-so much questions. I-I'm sorry for b-b-bothering you..."

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NP, Aiden only has relationships with characters in this folder! Though I do have specified stronger relationships with specific characters, feel free to ask about anyone (though I prefer anyone with an actual profile)!

Local stuttering loser goes "•///•"

"O-Oh, I-I've b-been gooooood, ma'am!" the teenager huffed in response, keeping his hands on his lap. He slightly kicked at the ground and stared ahead of him. The park was a tranquil, quiet spot—asides from the trilling and cooing that sounded from the wildlife. He allowed his lips to smack, blinking rapidly after he tilted his head.

"Ooh, yeah, I-I am-am-am. I-I have a c-couple years left. It-it-it's p-p-pretty cool," he chuffed. The more the elder party talked, the more the teenager's interest was piqued. He tilted his head and blinked rapidly, nodding along to what Xiu told him.

However, as soon as the topic of crushes was brought up, Aiden was abruptly caught off guard, especially with the...oddly specific description of a certain girl. Allowing his expression to fluster up, the teenager crossed his arms and fluttered his eyelashes.

"Ooh, it-it-it's not like th-that!" he blurted, abruptly covering his red face with his palm and blinking rapidly. Wow.

PolarisStorm

(Mod post, don't claim me!)

Okay, I'm going to jump in here and tell everyone to wait a second before claiming any more! Literally nobody has their claims done because a 4-way snipe happened, and I think it's probably best if we hold off any claims after Salternate until after everyone's done. Once I see that the people above this post all have their base claims done, I'll give you all the okay! I hope you all understand, I just want everything to go smoothly.

Edit: I didn't give the okay yet, but I might as well since it seems like everyone is claiming again anyway. You all are good to go now!

This user's post has been blocked from this thread.

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Spitwad horseradish

"Hey you! Uhm, does this .. " Spit looked down at the troll's custodian, pointing a long finger at it before continuing; ".. Dog belong to you? He's been following me around, and I keep telling him that 'I don't have any treats' but he won't leave me alone." He scoffed awkwardly and lowered his arm. It's just about this man's luck that a literal guardian that also looked to be some sort of Lovecraftian type beast was following him around like a lost puppy.

And, contrary to that, this thing was giant. This was no ordinary St. Bernard or larger dog, this thing .. was large. The fact that it even existed didn't even bother Spitwad in the slightest, which, on it's own is stupid. Spitwad is stupid.
"It's rare that I ever see albino dogs! Is that a birth defect he has? With the three pairs of legs? Man, you should enter him into some racing. I'll bet you real money this little guy would kick all of the other dog's asses in a second, or he could just stomp on them, I guess. What breed is he, again?"

The drummer took a double take at the troll, he was so wrapped up in asking about her 'albino dog' he didn't even notice who he was talking to.
"I'm sorry! This is probably weird, eh? I like your facepaint!" Spit gestured towards Citrus' .. grey skin. "I just wanted to know more about this little guy, I have a dog at home myself -- maybe they can have a puppy play date or something sometime? Does your dog eat other dogs? Please don't tell me he's going to eat my Rottweiler."

He looked over and frowned at Charlie, whom, was most definitely was going to eat his Rottweiler.

Spitwad's attention was directed towards Basil, whom, initially scared the shit out of him.
"Gawd damn, you startled me! But ah," He looked down towards the lit match that was offered toward him and grabbed it. "Yeah, sure. Do I .. put this out now?" Spoiler alert, he didn't. He didn't put out the stupid flame.

Spit's eyebrows raised as he waved the match around a bit, "Hm, that's a fun question! A weird one, but fun anyway .. I'd have to say Thorbjørn! He's so fucking scary, honestly. If he wanted to he would probably gun me down, but I'm not saying I don't like him! None of my members would ever commit a murder." Oh no, oh fuck ..
He mulled on anyway, " .. My favourite is probably Norm though! I don't think any of them are comparable to Berk, though. Not at all. DMT doesn't try to harvest my guts, so that's an automatic win for him anyway."

Basil zeta-male

the joy from the fact that the band is called death conspiracy and the plot is That. i may be a simple man but. the Joy. this is a bit nonspecific-oc-based hope its still cool wahoo o7

"Spitwad," said Basil, visibly entertained by Him As A Whole, "my man. Big fan. Want a match?" Without elaborating on what to do with it, Basil struck a match, handed it to him, then immediately got on with, "Got a question for you. For, uh, for no particular reason, which of your band mates d'you think is the most likely to murder someone? ... Entirely a hypothetical." And, without giving that much time to settle, she smiles pleasantly and tacks on, "And who's your favourite? Y'think they're cooler or less cool than that weirdo who lives in the woods?"

"Lotsa sense." Basil propped herself to sit on a desk to prepare for whatever was coming.

She snorts at soon as he mentions sunglasses. "Bad news is that you're not exactly gonna find Cedric's birth certificate in your archives. The good news is that if you know him as a professional, you know him as an individual, and as an individual, he's a professional, got it? Not much else in there." She taps her temple. "And I should know. Whoever told you I wouldn't have a clue about him needs to check their own clue stock. I know more about CD than he does. Anyway, he's already got a pageboy or whatever, so if you want a job I sure can't help you."

She watches Fitz with the same expression she used to watch him totally miss the wastebasket. "No clue what the project is." Impossible to tell if she's bullshitting when everything she says sounds like bullshitting. "But it's only human experimentation in a rat maze puzzle kinda way." Her casual smile becomes a bit strained, and she waves her hands. "No, no, no, see? You got it all wrong. It's humans because it's unethical!" Her laugh is almost uncomfortable.

"Yeah, uh, no actual explosions," she affirms. "Yet. No real metaphorical explosions, either, honestly. Think a slower, more painful death." She spreads her fingers, but then her grin falls. "'This time around?' No shit, he's going again, huh? Well, it..." Something more genuine crosses her expression. "I mean, it was already more work than he could handle the last time, but he always gets it done, and this time won't be different. Except..." She almost cringes. "Except he's got that pet participant now." She leans forward a bit. "See, this place doesn't operate on ethics for Ced. He knows what he knows, so he does what does. But Kelley... Kelley was unexpected. Especially from him. So if Cedric's already worried enough to pull that apprentice shit with Olwin, and now Ollie's letting him handle the project he's already let break twice, and Kelley starts making him question it all..." She's quiet for a moment, eyebrows drawn, eyes cast down. "... Maybe I should let Tobe kill him."

Fitzgerald (Human) kafkaesque

"Shiiiiiiit," Fitzgerald remarked while chewing on a chocolate chip cookie that he brought along for this sort of questioning, "I don't know if this makes a lot of sense, but..." He sat himself up in his seat before gesturing at the air. Did they expect that to make any sense? Probably not.

Nonetheless, he persisted, "I've heard rumors, or at least gossip, about this one fellow with sunglasses? The one who always wears a straight-laced expression?" There was no denying that just trying to describe the fellow currently in his mind was making the youth shudder, but why exactly... He left that unsaid, then flopped himself back against his armchair. "I can't help but wonder what he's like as an individual, as well as a professional," he mused aloud while chewing on his cookie (rude), "I think it's mainly because I've tried filing through the records and archives to solve that, but I haven't had much luck. It's a pain in the ass if you ask me."

So basically, Fitzgerald liked mysterious scientists with potentially dubious moralities and backgrounds. Huh.

"Then again, I don't really expect you to have much clue about your client either," the youth remarked with a raised brow, "but something is better than, well, nothing... Right?" He chuffed under his breath (because of course he liked the sound of his own words) before finishing up the cookie. "So, just give me a moment..." Fitzgerald grunted while carelessly crumpling up the plastic wrapper, then attempting to throw it at a nearby wastebasket. It failed. The wrapper ended up landing a foot away from the intended target, far too out of range for the youth to even try defending.

Now with that out of the way, Fitzgerald was ready to start interrogating, and hoo boy was that going to be a doozy: "So, first things first. I want to start this off general, but I do understand if this ends up being a bit specific... What exactly is that project he's trying to run? Does it involve human experimentation? Folks like that are surprisingly common, you know- Though not in my region, of course. The ethical standards here are higher, but... Why humans, if that's the case? Why not something like animals, or even robots? Unless I sound like I'm making shit up, of course..."

"Besides," he sniffed before continuing to ask, "what happened to the previous two projects? Did shit blow up in their faces? I mean... I'm sure it did, at least figuratively. But was there a literal component to it too? Like actual explosions, or shit like that?" Fitzgerald leaned in slightly, though his voice and expression remained flat the entire time. "And... How's that affecting him this time around, if you don't mind me asking? Is he aware that some of this is a bit dubious in terms of ethics, or... Hmph, I don't know." He sniffed and stamped his foot against the floor. "You don't need to answer everything, of course. Hell, the quicker this is for the both of us, the better-"

The only reason he was even getting agitated was because he was starting to suspect that he didn't bring enough cookies for this entire session. Don't worry too much about it.

another late answer.... featuring Pokémon angst!!

Fitzgerald raised his brow at the girl’s question but otherwise didn’t seem too fazed by her sudden burst of curiosity. It was that, or her cowering under his presence, and… Honestly, he wasn’t in the mood to get disciplined by his boss, whom he was sure the girl would come run whining to if he acted like a bitch yet again.

Speaking of his boss…

The youth ran his fingers through his hair and sniffed, “Of course he is! Why do you think I work for him!?” A defensive note entered his voice while he crossed his arms and continued, “If he was a shitty boss, I would’ve left him a long time ago!” He sucked in a breath, then just… Sort of deflated. Unfortunate?

“Not that I have much choice in the first place,” he added more quietly under his breath, his gaze averting from the girl’s for a second, “I can’t go back to them. Not after what they did… I can’t…” Fitzgerald sucked in a breath, then merely grunted, “So yes, he’s a good boss. He at least treats me well for an intern. I’d rather be with him than with anyone else at the moment…” Which would’ve been sweet if it weren’t for the fact that he shot the teenager a death glare just moments later.

Ugh.

At least he lightened up a bit when sweet angel baby Mikhin was mentioned, as the youth perked up slightly and answered, “Oh, her? Mikhin? She’s mine, but… Well…” With a surprisingly mellow laugh, Fitzgerald explained further, “To be honest with you, I never wanted to be a trainer. Researching was always something that I was passionate about, ever since I got a Pokédex for my - well - fifth birthday… I think.” He paused, the cool smile fading just a bit. “... If I have to be honest with you, I don’t remember a lot of it, but I do remember saying that I liked Snivy… So my boss gave her to me as a gift before I, well… Left.”

That’s one way to put it.

“And technically, she wasn’t my first Pokémon,” the young man continued to explain, “My first one was a Stoutland that I got when I was a kid-” Then, rather suddenly, he cut himself off. A shadow crossed Fitzgerald’s face as he started to tremble slightly, then clasp his arms close to his body. “Shit…” he muttered with a shake of his head. He turned to face the girl to see if she was paying attention, then grunted rather bluntly, “He’s not here with me right now, though. I wish he was, but shit happens.”

Sure. Shit happens.

Okay.

“That asides,” he grunted with the same melancholic note from before, “I don’t know if she’s going to evolve. I don’t think she will, but that’s mostly because I’m not the type of person to exactly be training their Pokémon. I’ll just catch and study them for the time being. I don’t want to train them like my parents.” Oh.

Zinnia salternate

Zinnia fluttered her eyelashes, wringing her fingers together and blinking rapidly. She intently followed Fitzgerald, albeit lagging behind slightly. After the teenager tilted her head up, she allowed a popping noise to escape from her lips before she attempted to strike up a conversation:

"Ooh, Mr. Fitzgerald. Do you like your job? I bet Mr. Pourife is a good boss."

Upon completing her sentence, she stopped wringing her fingers and lowered her hands down to her hips, extending her head in a failed attempt to get a better look at Fitzgerald's expressions.

"Oh, right, I have a question! Sometimes, I saw this...little green lizard around. Is he or she yours? She's about...this tall," she squeaked, slightly hovering her palm at her knee.

"You got her when you were ten, right? Or did that happen a bit differently? Was your lizard—Snivy, Snivy—was your Snivy your first pokémon?"

The teenager returned to wringing her fingers, tilting her head down to briefly stare at the pathway before returning her gaze to the elder party.

"Are you thinking about evolving her? I know someone who already has a Serperior, and those things are huge..."

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NP, Zinnia only has relationships in the Human folder! Feel free to ask about anyone (preferably someone with a profile)!

I don't have a witty title for this I'm s orry

Zinnia fluttered her eyelashes, watching Alcott intently as he spoke to her. The tension that built up in her shoulders abruptly faded as soon as she realized that she was not in trouble. However, as soon as Stephanie was brought up, she grew tense again. The teenager allowed her lips to part, only pursing her lips together when she struggled to word her sentence. She lifted up her fingers and began to wring them together as soon as she started to get nervous.

"Uhm, Stephanie? Yeah, we're just... it's complicated. I don't know what happened; I just—she changed. Maybe she's mad at me? I'm not sure why she would be, but I'm trying to find out..." The teenager responded in a hushed tone, pressing her fingers together and blinked rapidly. She didn't want to talk about this topic anymore, so after a period of silence, the teenager whispered under her breath:

"Ooh, she's gotten so mean, and I-I don't know why..."

Alcott Northwind PicklePantry

Under his request, Zinnia remained behind in the classroom when everyone left, leaving just the two of them in the room. Alcott leaned his back against his desk and crossed his arms, a stern yet concerned look on his face. "It's probably not my place," he started, "but are things okay between you and Stephanie? I remember seeing you two practically joined at the hip, but now you both barely look at each other. Now, I know friends drift apart, but this feels a little sudden, and... I've been hearing rumors." The concern on his face spread. "Are you okay? Do you need me to talk to her?"

Go ahead and ask him about any of my characters! Chances are he's at least heard of them, since they're all in the same world.

"Thought about it, won't do it anytime soon, though," Alcott grunted until his daughter was mentioned. "Yeah. Trust me, I wasn't for it at first, either. School kept assuring me that she was in good hands and that he was a great teacher, but you've seen him. I get not loving the job, especially with students these days, but he's real obvious about it. Didn't believe he'd be a good role model at all." He shook his head and chuckled, "Imagine my surprise when my daughter tells me all the stuff he's done and taught her. Individualized tests, always on the phone with at least three parents a day, getting extra lunches from the cafeteria for kids. He may act like he hates his job, but he really is good at it. I'm glad Cecilia's learning under him. Still think she'd learn better under me, though." Breathing out a stream of smoke from outside the window, he pressed the cigarette butt against the windowsill. "I don't think she's been taking care of him, I'm not sure. I know he makes her pick up fountain drinks, though."

Maribelle Burnett Vapor

"Have you ever thought about not smoking, like, fifty cigarettes a day?" No, that's not a question about someone else, and also have you forgotten about the shit you keep under your bed? Lounging in the otherwise empty classroom, she looked out the window, eyes on the man's far reflection in the glass. "I don't think even my father smoked that much, but also I think his cigars just smelled better."

Maribelle glanced back over her shoulder at Alcott. "Your daughter goes to this school, right? Or works here, at least. Not under you, though. Under that... man with the lifeless eyes." Not that she was one to talk. "I always see him at the nurse's, though. Not that I actually need to go to the nurses. Is he, like, sick-sick, or..?" Did Terry have *spins the wheel* liver cirrhosis? Heart disease? "And does your daughter just take care of everything for him, or something like that? Like, take care of the students, and teach them, or whatever, because he's almost always..."

She paused.

"Dead?"

Maribelle is once again lucky she has never been to a public school before. Also, someone please prepare Terry's funeral.

yes make her cry. anyways cw for abuse mentions. maybe a mental breakdown? she's going somewhere else to die inside.

Maribelle was probably better off falling all over the jellyfish than she was answering the man. Poor her.

"I can take care of it, no problem." the girl replied, patting the side of the animal's head as it gurgled obnoxiously, "And I mean, I'm assuming you just have normal fruit, and I'm fine just eating that, and so is your jellyfish, probably. Right? I'm not going to turn down a meal, though." She fell silent, then, and peered over at the paperwork Smithson sorted through. She thought about asking if he wanted help for about a second, before deciding against it, because she would much rather play dog-owner with his Mr. Pringles. But then...

"I'm more used to older people, I think." Maribelle told him, "There were some children in the gardens around the estate, but I don't remember ever spending time with them."

She paused again. Her lip curled as the man carried on next about her father. Good, pious Lord Alkaev. She pulled her hands back into her lap and squeezed them, eyes cast down to the floor, unblinking until they stung.

She wasn't sure if she would truthfully call it him hurting those around him -- intentionally, anyway. More so, she didn't want to blame him, she didn't want to think about it, though she supposed she had no choice in the matter. The thoughts crept up on her at the worst of times, like when she watered her plants or cooked rice or slept comfortably in her bed--

"If I said it was true, there still isn't anything anyone can do about it." Maribelle's voice was flat, but quiet enough to betray timidity, "When he hurt people, he only did it to those that deserved it. He cut off my uncle's fingers because he deserved it. He -- I don't even know what to say, but-- but I..."

Where even was she? What was she even doing? She finally blinked, and then closed in on herself with a shudder, trying to hide her face behind her hair. She felt stupid. She probably looked stupid, too.

"It's a dumb thing to ask." she droned, "I was supposed to take your jellyfish, anyway, not answer dumb fucking questions." With that, she stood and grabbed onto the jellyfish, trying to pull its ass towards the door. "We're going for a walk."

Jokes on all of them, she was going to stuff herself and the jellyfish in the nearest bathroom and stay there for the next hour or two.

Smithson (Human) kafkaesque

Smithson's jellyfish, of course, gurgled in the background while the aristocrat paid no mind to it... Or the girl who was probably fawning over the damn thing. Needless to say, Smithson was used to the teenager's priorities at this point, as it was probable that he preferred her completely ignoring him in favor of the squishy cnidarian over her being so nosy that it interfered with his political duties. Speaking of being a nosy nuisance...

The middle-aged man, in the middle of sorting out some documents relating to financial distributions, peered over his shoulder at the girl and asked, "You don't mind taking care of it while I deal with some professional affairs, right?" Which was a stupid question, because both parties likely already knew the answer- All three, if the jellyfish could be counted as sapient at this point. The creature still gurgled and wiggled its tentacles, prompting Smithson to sigh and explain further, "I mean... I'll be busy for a bit, but I can ask the servants to prepare something for you and the jellyfish so that the waiting is a bit more bearable now, mm?"

By the two suns was that going to be a weird ass phrase to utter for the foreseeable future. "You and the jellyfish." It would've been humorous if it weren't for the context behind it.

"That asides," he sniffed while thumbing one of the documents, an old, rather yellowed essay about Unova's interregional relationships and how it was going to affect the region in the future... Smithson tried not to draw his lip back at the somewhat strong scents of parchment and decay, and honestly... Fair.

"I've never seen you around with folks of your own age," the older man remarked after a few seconds of silence from his part, "and I honestly can't blame you, though... I've always seen you around older men, which is a bit... Peculiar if you ask me." Shut up, Smithson. Don't inspire her into making you an exception to the not-father rule. Smithson paused further while the paper lingered in his hands for a moment, before being shifted off to the side in favor of newer and less aromatic sheets. "Especially because I know about... Well... The first one you were actually associated with. It's complicated, and I don't want to get into the details, but..." It's for the best. Really.

His gaze started to become a bit more inconsistent while he continued, "... I know that he's a bit of a war hero, at least according to the people. I'm sure that you regard him in a similar manner, but... I'm sure there's a darker side to him... Right?" What the actual hell did that mean? "The least I can think of is the fact that he's the type to use his power to bend people to his will. Courtesans, political allies, political enemies..." His lips ran dry for a second, not helped by the fact that he was starting to chew on them just a bit. "... I did hear from my Unovan folks that he's the type of person to try hurting the people he supposedly cares about. It's nothing particularly remarkable, given how much it's thrown around here, but... That asides... Is that hearsay true? Any of it?" Another pause.

It wasn't like he expected much from the girl in terms of an answer, and yet... Smithson turned his attention back to the papers. Hopefully his jellyfish wasn't feeling homicidal today.

- Reinherz, you deserve so much more for Smithson. please don't stroke his ego (/lh)..... :"))))