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Basically a reverse version of this thread.
Interact with the oc above: without using dialogue!
Example
OC 1: Tossing her hair, she silently glared at the man in front of her. Almost growling with distain.
OC 2: The cat purred in the kind women’s lap, gently kneading her legs with pure joy.
Rules.
1. Don’t double post!
2. NO NSFW
3. No dialogue! (duh)
4. Responding is okay, just make sure it doesn’t have dialogue!
5. At least 2-3 sentences but feel free to do more!
First poster doesn’t have to do anything :3 Ehe.
The Daughter Of Khaine raised her blade. This- thing, had come for the bounty upon her head. Placed by her former priestess, the cold metal of her weapon mere inches from her cheek. She did not fear this thing, she did not wonder what horrible things it could do. It would need her alive after all, as long as air filled her lungs she would fight. She did not fear thing thing. But she wished the dead god of Khaine and the God King Sigmar watched her. She shall not fall today
It was that woman again. Wild and beastly thing she was. Marcus eyes her and paid extra attention to her blade. She could slice him in half if he made the wrong moves... the soldier gave her a smirk, followed with a nod. As if telling her to come over...
Marcus was busy wiping the dirt off of him. He had walked into a pool of mud earlier and hadn't noticed kicking the dirt off his boots would cause such a ripple effect. He truly paid no mind to what or whoeslse was effected by it. So the mud did make its way to the swan.
Jan-Paul hissed between his teeth. He placed down his pencil on his paper. Drawing wildlife was always hard, at least to him. This swan was no different. Birds, no matter what, always moved as he tried to sketch them down. Jan-Paul peeked over his sketchbook at Chiyo. Frowned, angled his head, lowered his gaze and hissed again. His sketch hardly looked like the swan before him. There was this… Enchanted feel, he couldn’t grasp with his charcoal alone.
--
Jan-Paul was so focused at first that he didn't even notice his friend. He leaned back to view the entirety of his painting. The young artist let out his breath. His ear twitched and he looked sidewise. To Nahm'jel. To his friend. Jan-Paul smiled awkwardly, nodded and then leaned back to his painting. Now with renewed inspiration.
Olga looks at the boy. She can tell he is a fellow Mongolian. Olga feels much pity for the child who lost his wealth in childhood. Her family had managed to get to America. But then in the big 2008 recession, they lost their home, and Olga’s mom gave away all the children so they would have a spacious place to call home.
She brings her hands behind her back, waiting in line at the local corner store. It'd been a long day thus far, and she'd attended to several on-scene calls that hadn't been the easiest. The latest one was one where a young woman had lost her mother, leaving Empress feeling sorry for her. Her own mother had long since passed, but she could still feel and understand how painful it was to see someone you loved so dearly move onto the next life. When the woman in front of her glances back (Olga), she offers a warm smile to her. They were around the same height, though Olga was much more built than Empress was. Which was fine, considering Empress loved her own body the way it was; but still. She did admire that about the other!
When Olga turns away, she feels her smile wither, but only a small bit. What an odd world they lived in. Here a stranger was that she would likely never see again!
[v. im love her....]
Charlie gazed approvingly at the pink-haired woman. Being a security expert, she's heard of 655 more than a few times; if she weren't already employed she'd have liked to see about joining it herself. She had much respect for those who protected and assisted other women, after all, and the company seemed to operate with a philosophy that well matched her own. Someone like Empress was easy to remember, too. Charlie's seen her before, and from what she's witnessed, the woman was always kind. Of course, there was also her weapon, but Charlie understood the necessity of that very well.
She shot Empress a warm smile, hoping it would convey her thoughts even as she stood guard for the members of her own organization. It was a nice feeling-- she wouldn't want to call it kinship, since she hardly knew Empress personally, but it was nice nonetheless.
...
Charlie had, in fact, noticed the man with the cigarette. It was her job to be observant, after all, and she'd noticed his eyes on her fairly easily; aside from that, her mind had absentmindedly noted his wonderfully whimsical hair. It was only when she had passed him and he dropped his hand to his side that she looked straight at him, and he had already averted his gaze, but she smiled nonetheless as she continued on. Perhaps he'd strike up a conversation next time; she could already tell he was no threat, and this would hardly be the last time she'd pass this way, after all.
Chompy blew bubbles as he stared at Cass through the glass. He liked her colored hair and cat ears. He entertained Cass by performing small tricks. After his performance, he was happy to receive some fishy treats from Cass. Chompy nibbled the treats and waved with his tail as she left.
A creature of the sea - these were the kinds Vashti did not often meet, being from the desert. It earns a curious head tilt as she nears the glass, a hand pressing against it softly.
Using her druidic powers, she calls forth to the Elemental Plane of Water, and conjures colourful coral to line the bottom of the tank, while also causing the seaweed to grow and spread. A whole cosmos of marine reef life to keep the shark company.
Pompadork • The satyr, at this point, is quite used to odd looks and bewildered stares. Even most places on the Material Plane still earned such reactions. When the sailor joined them, she assumed it was once again due to her Feywild form, not for any relation to royalty. Nonetheless, his stunned expression raises no ire from her. Instead, she bows her head in his direction as she passes by, a gentle smile gracing her quiet countenance.
A baby cow, brown and clumsy, follows suit, bumping up against the sailor's leg with a mew, before quickly righting its path, as it plods along after the woman.
Her mere presence sent shivers down his spine. Bow was far from used to interacting with what he assumed was royalty, let alone anyone higher in society than a lone sailor than him.
As the druid passed through the rinkydink seaside town, her hooves gently tapping along the old wooden dock boards and her dress swept up by the breeze, Bowman stared in absolute awe.
Dandelion knew water. But he was unfamiliar with the sea. The roughness of the ocean made his footing unsteady. Dandelion managed to scramble onto the deck. His eyes locked with those of Bowman. The rabbitfolk stepped towards the other and gently placed his hand on Bowman’s shoulder. Mostly to steady himself.
Yet he couldn’t help feeling somewhat… Protective over the BeagleBunny.