(IC) Embarrass the OC Above!

“Keep your hand still,” Salvador instructed. He tipped the edge of his handkerchief in his waterskin, then grabbed the Sin’s hand. He started to rub the other’s knuckles with the watery towel. “There is blood on them.”
Salvador wasn’t careful as he cleaned Wrath’s hands. He scrubbed roughly.
“They will hang you. If they see the blood,” he continued to lecture. “The Wacht will. And you will die. Hanging.” Unaware that he wasn’t talking to a normal mortal. Salvador didn't care. Nor did he try to hide his frustration. His loathing.
“You made a mess,” Salvador said. His gaze flicked up at the other. He stared at those closed eyes for a brief second. Then lowered his gaze. He shifted his focus back towards his task, towards the blood.
“You are a monster.” Salvador finally removed the cold, damp handkerchief from the other’s hand. Then let go of his wrist as well. Why am I even helping him in the first place? Salvador shook his head. Code. Thief-code was always the answer.

The small thief, seated on some old cargo boxes, leaned backward, allowing his back to rest against the wall of a house. The coldness of the building gave him chills. Or at least, Salvador convinced himself that it was the chilliness that made his skin prick.
“You attacked them. No. Killed them. No, second guessing,” Salvador pointed out. His focus shifted away from his bloodied handkerchief and Wrath’s cleaned hands and towards the empty back alley. “Snapped their necks. I think.”
Salvador spat on the ground beside him. " I couldn’t look.” He frowned.
“You saved me back there. Accidentally. I think,” he said. He started to fold his handkerchief.  “I saved you by dragging you here. By cleaning your hands. We are even,” he said. Satisfying the thief-code.
“That’s all I will do for you,” he said. Salvador got up. He hung his waterskin back onto his belt and gave Wrath a disguised glare.
“Don’t help me again, please. I don’t like killers.”
--
For np: Sal doesn't give a rat ass about his height as well 

She greeted Salvador has he approached the ice cream selection. She smiled waving " hello!! Choose any flavor!" She greeted the theif. He ordered and she nodded writing down his selection. She put the ice cream in a bowl, a little taller than intended. She rushed over, accidentally tripping she spilt the ice cream all over Salvador. She quickly apologized over and over and went to help him

Perfume had found herself walking into Nea's ice cream parlor. It was suprisingly hot that day, and Perfume was craving some ice cream. Nea greeted her when she entered. After Nea had taken Perfume's order and gave her the ice cream, Nea noticed that one of the tables had ice cream spilt on it. When Nea went to clean the table, Perfume decided she'd try and talk to Nea. After all, she seemed like a fun person to talk to. Unfortunately for Perfume, approaching Nea would end in disaster. "Hey, Nea-" Before Perfume could finish her sentence, she slipped on something. When she fell, she accidentally knocked Nea over. Not only that, but Perfume's ice cream also landed on Nea. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, Nea!!! Are you alright???" Perfume helped Nea up, and Nea forgave her. However, that didn't change the fact that everyone else in the parlor watched this event take place.

For NP: Anything about Perfume's appearance, chainsaw, or the fact that she's wearing a fursuit will not embarrass her.

(Bump)

"You have issues, don't you?"

Okay, Beatrice. Cut straight to the point.

She shifted in her seat before leaning towards the younger party and grunted, "Because as far as I can tell, based on what my wife told me, you have quite the temper, especially when it concerns your personal character." Beatrice barely stifled a roll of her eyes, though she still ended up glancing at the ceiling for a few moments, before briskly coughing into her sleeve. "I hope to the skies that it's something that fades with age," she huffed with a raised brow, "because if it isn't, then I wouldn't be surprised if your career is brief. And, as far as I know, scientists who have brief careers normally don't get remembered by the public conscience.”

With a dry gesture of her hand, Beatrice added, “And while I may play a part in that, you’re going down the wrong path if you assume that people like myself are the main reasons why your legacy may be at stake. I don’t control what the people want to read or remember. If anything, I have to be the one catering to them, and if they want to hear about you getting the ax, then…” Beatrice shrugged, her shoulders rolling with utter nonchalance while she continued to gaze at the other party.

“... Who am I to judge?”

"I'm not a scientist, anyways, and I'm sure you'd much rather spend time with my wife, who is one," Beatrice grumbled, disgust threatening to burst through every word in her voice, "Or, well, was one." The journalist leaned in slightly to whisper harshly, "- But I still prefer referring to that in the present tense when I can, because she at least upholds the proper pride and spirit of a scientist." Beatrice's eyes narrowed slightly. "... Unlike certain other people I know."

Her gaze, with little discreetness, lingered on the youth for a few more seconds before she finally wrenched her gaze away and let out a harsh huff.

Leaning back in her seat, Beatrice remarked dryly, "At least people like her know how to separate themselves from their craft, and not equate a critique of a report to an attack on their self. They also don't let their successes get to their head and start warping whatever they perceive as reality-" Beatrice cut herself off and spat, "Not that I care much about the philosophy behind that anyhow. What matters is that you're not doing this because you care about learning, or bettering the world with knowledge. You only care about having power above others, about making sure that you're the person on top at the end of the day. That's not what science is about. You embarrass the field of science with your mere presence." With that, Beatrice sucked in a breath so that she could take a sip of her sweetened tea without gagging on it.

"So, I think you should stop trying to come here, at least until you get over yourself," the older woman suggested once she placed the cup back down, "I'd hate to be there when information against you turns up in my registry in the near future." She paused again, then glanced at the doorway. "Do you need anything else, though? It shouldn't be long before she gets back from the bazaar."

@ NP: literally the easiest way to embarrass Beatrice is to insult her work, or her position in the workplace (such as trying to delegitimize the field, or bringing up how she never went beyond a mediocre position despite her experience). she takes pride in the former and is self-conscious about the former, so you can bet that she'd be uncomfortable with either of those being questioned.

she also gets rather embarrassed through obscenity (though obviously keep it within thread/TH rules). it doesn't really matter if it's directed at her or not; she'll just find it unprofessional and try distancing herself from your character as a result. curse words (like "shit," "fuck," etc.) don't really affect her, though, so avoid that to the best of your ability if going for this route.

feel free to get creative with your response, though; I'd love to see what you come up with!!

I'll also try my best to do a follow-up when I can!!

kafkaesque

The psychopomp spirit seemingly suddenly appeared behind the human. Maroon colored mist floated around him as he glared down to Beatrice. Eugene floated down to the floor, smirking and snickering. "You-," he snorted, "you beings are so very entertaining!"

Eugene looks up to the 6'3" woman, conjuring up insults. He paces the floor around her, keeping his smirk and bad attitude. "Y'know... it is a little odd that creatures of the same rank judge each other so harshly..." he sneers. As he comes to a stop, he keeps eye contact with Beatrice. "One certainly shouldn't be judging so harshly, especially one who hasn't had a better position in their profession. I'd expect someone with as much experience as you, they'd get a much better position," he said, making fun of the woman. 

He made a mockingly fake sympathetic expression towards her, "I do hope your job gets better~... It would suck to have wasted so much precious time..." Eugene leaned back and turned, waving at the woman as he walked off, "Whatever thing, I'll be seeing you one day. Maybe soon..."

@ NP: Main thing that embarrasses Eugene is by bringing up his inferiority to Angels, Demons, and even human spirits (he is one of the lowest ranked beings in the supernatural world. He is higher than an Imp, though). He doesn't admit it, but he is pretty clearly scared of Angels. He doesn't do his job right on purpose (most of the time), but he hates it when someone criticizes how he does his work and his failures.

It also embarrasses/saddens him when his true form is insulted or when his height is brought up.

(OOC: Just realized that the post was from a year ago lmao!)

Gwen saw Ibis and approached the young spiky blonde-haired gangster girl. She sees that this person has a cigarette in her mouth. Gwen unsheathes her wakizashi and quickly gets into a position perpendicular to where Ibis was facing. With a 0.5 second swipe of the sword, the cigarette is cut in half. Gwen then remarks “Guess you won’t be getting cancer today! Even then, they would have to bury you four inches more than the usual six feet under!” As the confused Ibis prepares to punch Gwen, Gwen manages to avoid the punch, though Ibis’ fist grazes her hair. Gwen then decides to strategically flee before she is caught by someone else.

"Oh my word, forgive me," Xander said. As he carefully laughed. Indirectly capturing the attention of the small crowed of nobles around them. "I could have sworn both… Titles were the same," he said. He squeezed the bridge of his nose. "I could have sworn that mercenary and samurai were the same thing. I am sorry for introducing you with the wrong title. How embarrassing for us both." 

--

"Oh my!" He almost stuttered. "I hadn't seen it, oh how embarrasing," he added in a soft tone. "Thank you my dear friend, maybe we can take a stroll on the beach? I.. Need some fresh sea air." 

“You know…” The viera began. “Take it from someone who’s constantly running other people’s errands… you need to slow down or you’ll burn yourself out before you can retire.” The viera looked up at Seung-Cheol who looked like they hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in forever. “Oh..” He reached up to adjust the man’s glasses that were sitting crooked on his face. “I mean it. Your tailor-shop is absolutely lovely and the quality of your work is as well but can you keep that up when you don’t even notice that your glasses are crooked?”

The viera let out a sigh of concern and slight frustration. He was yet again going to pick up more work for himself to help others instead. “If you need a second hand, I-“ He crossed his arms and looked away. “I may be a warrior but my mother raised me well. I know how to tailor. Or.. I can help you carry and move your inventory...”

—————————-
followup

“I am a bard no longer.” His ears flung backwards with aggression as the woman had finished speaking. “I left the ways of the bow behind when it was clear that I had to be more to protect those I hold dear. You should be glad to have the privilege to not have to make such a choice.” The viera took a few steps forward, a faint growl emanating from his throat.

“Seeing half of the horrors I’ve seen, fighting the battles I fought, losing the companions I’ve lost. It would be enough to drive someone with as weak of a mind as yours mad.”

Her attempts at embarrassing him had all but failed as the approach was way too harsh and mean-spirited. The viera rather roughly grabbed Tav by one of her horns, forcing her to look up if she wanted to see face to face.

“But if I were to indulge, let’s say.. humor you. I am N’arfi Nongwesfv Nunh, Hydaelyn’s chosen, The Champion of Eorzea, the Liberator of Ala Mhigo, Warrior of light, slayer of Gods and Eikons. Don’t you forget it. Tell me, what will you have to your name? Will old tomes sing praises of your deeds when you’re long gone or will you be forgotten like the rest?”