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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.
Both of them shared a love for life, but their loves were vastly different. Irene held tough love for them; a depraved curiosity to see how much humans could break apart. Lan had witnessed it all from the shadows that once clung to the town that was on its last legs. These same shadows were banished by the neon lights of the casino that rose the town to higher and higher heights.
Lights, money, fame, ecstasy-- all addictive things people still couldn't get enough of. He could not be disappointed or angry in them for succumbing to such feelings. After all, he had a hand in creating them in people. Perhaps Irene's methods were needed, something for him to have to see.
Whether he approved or not, though, he would not say. From the shadows of the slot machines he would watch besides Irene the frenzies of emotions. She had to know he was there with the coolness seeping into the room. Neither said a word, instead only listening to casino.
It was usually a good sign when a God anthropomorphized itself for longer than 10 minutes, and no one got smited or burned with maddening visions. In fact, Lan Turner's company had thus far been positively pleasant. The night was still young, he supposed- and some gods are known to take their time before demanding things like blood sacrifices. But, ah- Somehow, Eeleth found himself doubting it would come that.
It wasn't a doubt to take lightly. Eeleth was a hyper-vigilant sort. Sometimes, it took the form of a heightened undead instinct, a supernatural awareness that he was still trying to undertsand- and other times, it was your dime a dozen post traumatic stress. He was ready to believe the worst in people at any moment, especially from those with power- And what else would you call Lan, except powerful? So, it felt.... noteworthy, when Lan Turner appeared, and Eeleth's deepest instincts felt no fear or trepedition of the darkened specter.
Darkness was comfortable, after all. Darkness was safety. It's the shade underneath a tree, it's your first kiss behind a building. In the way that Gods are people as much as they are abstract concepts, Eeleth looked right into Lan Turner, and recognized the note his shadows sang in, such that he could only think "Oh, I'm home."
But, ah, might as well still get to know the man. When your local abstract concepts go around wearing human faces, it's best you treat them with humanity. Eeleth flips his hat to his hand, and presses it lightly to his chest as he falls into a reverant bow.
For a being like Alois, observation is akin to an old friend: an easy habit to fall back into in both the best and worst of times, and with a being like Eeleth Skeleton — a unique name that carries a surprising weight with it, the paradox can tell — there is a comfort in watching. But there is something about this undead entity that speaks of something that is not quite woven into words, something that cannot be known with mere first impressions, and so Alois reaches in. Just a smidgen: a little nudge here, a wiggle of his fingers there, and he sees.
And, oh, isn't this interesting? The paradox can't quite help but feel a pang of pity, that woeful awareness that this being was dealt a horrible hand by unknown forces. Yet, at the same time, a particular admiration etches itself. It is fascinatingly rare to see those able to overcome adversity, especially in a way that is kind and heartfelt. There is a twinge of something foul there, but the paradox has no time for such petty sensations, and so he crushes it into fine powder before he recedes.
He supposes it is rude to simply look, and a better use of his time would be to engage in some form of interaction. As such, he steps forward: his movements slow but casual, rather than deliberate. It would be easy in this scenario to see him as simply another face in the crowd, but there is something in the way he carries himself: an invitation to notice him, to behold him, like separating the wheat from the chaff.
From there, he greets Eeleth with a gentle wave of his hand in lieu of a proper introduction: there is a small smile decorating his features, and something kind about him. And, perhaps, if all goes well, this would make for a rather fascinating connection.
NP: If your character is meta or aware of the fourth wall, you're free to include OOC/profile-specific details! Just do note that Alois will probably notice and stare back.
Grocery shopping was one of the most normal, mundane tasks, so why on earth did it feel so... ethereal when Ethan saw Alois doing it. He'd seen him a few times, and each time he hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary from him. He bought simple things, he didn't do anything out of the ordinary, but something about that was just so uncanny.
It had to be because Alois was handsome-- more than handsome, the guy was a modern day Adonis! It was something about those eyes. He'd never seen such clear, blue eyes before. It gave him peace, strangely.
Ethan stiffened when Alois came to his line. He felt like he had to do an incredible job at scanning, just-just anything that wouldn't leave a mark in this guy's memory. As he got to work, his gaze drifted back to those eyes. So deeply blue. Did a shade of that blue exist? Who was this guy, anyway? A celebrity?
Realizing his staring was caught, Ethan flinched and smiled awkwardly. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came to mind, so he stayed gaping like a fish.
Then a power outage hit the store and his register shut off.