Cordelia smiled. "I love that no matter how old you get your still the same boy who stole my first kiss all those years ago." She looked him up and down and giggled. "No matter how you look your still that same awkward boy and to be honest its refreshing and helps me remeber the old days when I was young and hopelessly in love sith your brother. It helps me remeber I'm still human. Dont ever change you loveable Teddy Bear. " She said grabbing the kings cheeks and giving them a squish. "I still want my first kiss back though." She said with a teasing grin. "Though Ill forgive you if you just ask that butler of yours on a date or something! And if you dont," she smiled more evilly and pulled the males cheeks. "Ill take your cheeks with me!"
It's Time For A Game, Kids
i believe this is pretty self explanatory, post IC and have your OC say what they like about the OC above them. be sure to give more than two-word answers tho! im sure you wouldnt like that if some put that low of an effort into a reply to your oc. you dont have to write paragraphs either just - yknow, a response that has effort into it!
lets mcfreakin lose it!!!
"...what I like about you, huh?" Matthias stared at Cordelia blankly. It was blatant from the very beginning, from the moment that he had seen Cordelia-- she was not a good person. She may have been once, at another time, in the same story, but she had been changed drastically and at that, only when she had been a child as well. It was heart-breaking, but all the same, a cruel child that stood in front of him, what he assumed to be a cynical and evil look in her eyes. He shivered, looking right back into the apple red eyes of the girl, trying his hardest to not cringe away in fear. The voices screamed danger, and if there was danger... he would usually run, but bound by laws of judgement, he would stay and give this girl her due.
"I am sorry," He began, "I cannot say that there is anything I can find of value of your character right now. You hold great power as you do, but it has corrupted you.." His ears pinned against his head, the dog-humanoid almost afraid of the power that someone so young held so close.
"But back then, you were sweet. Kind. Devoted to who you were supposed to become, but you were wronged... so horribly wronged." Voice progressively becoming more quiet, he began to hunch, feeling tears prick the corners of his eyes. The story he had been told, the story he beheld and was shown-- so horribly wrong, so horribly disgusting and sad that it even made someone as apathetic as him begin to cry.
"You've gone through many hardships, and while I do not say I can approve of your actions in retaliation to what has happened to you, I do believe you can grow past them. Grow into a better person, and become not who you thought you should have, but someone you can be comfortable with, not someone that has been idealized to be you by another, but someone... someone that is truly you." His smile was broken, and while it was unwarranted, he pat Cordelia's head softly.
May the forest have kindness for her.
Leika couldn't wrap her head around it. These words Hathor had said, her explanation of 'godness'. People with so much power? It didn't make any sense for poor Leika. They didn't have any gods in Leika's world. Some old holy man, ya, but literal gods? Wide-eyed the rough ruffian stared at the delicate and graceful lady in front of her. Elegant. That's the world Leika was looking for. The soft flow Hathor's dress.. Her golden hair that almost looked like liquid gold if the sunlight hit it in the perfect angle... If all gods we're like this, Leika wondered, we sure missing out on something.
"So basically your in control over love?" She asked Hathor. Again. This may be the third time the gunslinger asked for an explanation. "All of love? That's seems like a big responsibility, " she said. When Leika was still a wee child, she had cared for some frogs she found in the pond behind her family home. Those poor critters died as soon as the winter started. Turns out two frogs we're too much responsibility for Leika, let alone the whole concept of love. "That's neat, " she said. Her voice not louder than an admiring whisper. "I bet you are a good one! A good god."
Another spoiler box it's time for a long follow up!
Mountains? Sucked. Snow? Stinks. And yet, Leika found herself back in the small mountain cabin. She had kicked off her muddy and snow soaked boots and was busy warming her feet and wet socks by the fire. There was something magical about warmth this far in the mountains. Something cozy. The wind that howled and made its presents know by ticking on the windows or playing with the wind chimes outside, made everything even more..Cozy. Leika wanted to leave this afternoon but the raging blizzard prevented her in doing so. She knew blizzards back home, but port blizzards were different then mountain blizzards. Wáy different. Dolores had sugested her to stay, here and in Leika hadn't complained.
She liked that gran-gran.
Not that Leika was ever going to admit that out loud! No way! She was way too though for that! The warmth and smell of the fire place made Leika sleepy. She lazily looked up when Dolores spoke. Her ears pricked directly when she saw the cake.
Butter! Leika thought. Nice!
"Thanks Gran-Gran you're the best!" the ruffian said while scooping most of the butter off with her fingers. Table manners? Never heard of her. Leika went as far as taking a big bite out of it. The cake, like Dolores so desperately tried to warn her, was still hot. Leika's eyes teared up a bit as a blister popped up in her burned mouth. "Oh man the taste is great," she said. Not trying to concern Dolores for her stupid mistake. "Nah, not too hot," she lied. With her mouth half open and tears in her eyes. "But I'll let it cool down for now.. I like my cakes cool you know," Leika lied on. Her voice a bit crumpled thanks to that Void-forgotten blister.
"I like bitter," she said. Not lied this time, she really did. "I rarely have chocolate down below, we have to import it.. Makes it all expensive and stuff," she told her. Leika laughed. "Oh my Kraker friends will punch each other in the face for your chocolate cake for sure, " again not lying. Leika remembered she broke someones nose over an oliebol once. The fight for something with chocolate in it would be legendary.
Sweet? Leika started to blush as she plucked at her earlobe. Nobody really called her sweet, she liked it though... Like dresses and make-up. Things she will never admit out loud. "You let me stay here Gran-gran that's enough!" She said with a big smile. "You even give me a bed," she added. "With blankets and such," she added quickly.
She cocked her head a bit at Dolores' remarks over her personalty. But shrugged it off. Leika kind of faced the same problem really. She was though and cool, rude and so desperately not wanting people to forget her. She wasn't going to change that toxic-attitude soon.
Oh yah! The cake! Leika grabbed her plate again and took another bite. "You definitely should send us choco cake," she said. "Bet they all love it!"
- Leika..... sweet summer child.... tbh bless her and Dolores being the main source of wholesome content during the angst-fest that is.... everything else WHEEZE.
this is a bit long, and I'm so sorry fgvdfrgbvdrfbdrfgb- that asides, I'd die for Leika and Dolores's dynamic... let their cake saga be relatively angst-free 2020. >:(
In spite of the more than awkward encounter with Leika's boss, Dolores was still more than happy to take the Easterling inside her house, up in the mountains. Whether it be for the cake, the dog, or just because the Easterling wanted to visit the grandma, the older woman was fine with it. It made the long summer days up in the mountains - when the sun almost never seemed to sink below the horizon - more bearable, or the days when there was so much snow that it was a wonder how her little cottage could withstand the howling blizzards and whiteouts.
Unfortunately for everyone involved, this was one of the days where going outside would not only make someone get covered with snow in a few seconds, but also probably cause hypothermia or frostbite to kick their ass - if not both. But Dolores was fine with that. She liked Leika's company, despite the two being polar opposites; the Easterling was far more outgoing and brash than the clearly reserved maid, yet it was also evident that the two had formed soft spots for each other in spite of the odds. It was rather touching, really.
"And here's a cake slice just for you, dear," Dolores told Leika with a nod before setting a platter of chocolate cake in her direction. An ample amount of buttercream was on top, if only because the elder knew that the Easterling was particularly fond of butter. She couldn't blame her, really. Butter was such a rich and decadent ingredient; it was hard to stop eating anything that contained butter, and Dolores could actually attest from personal experience... Not that it was really the right time to be blurting such things anyway. With a sigh, she rubbed the back of her neck and added, "It's rather warm, though. It's cool enough for everything to have been set, but... I reckon that the dough is still a bit fresh from the oven. Maybe you can just wait for a bit while the cake cools down? I wouldn't want you to get hurt."
Gee, did the amount of qualifiers in Dolores's speech pattern make her wince. It was only the result of years and years of dismissing herself to the point of worrying that now, she was sugarcoating everything for the Easterling's sake. Her words were as sweet as the cake in front of her, but at what cost?
Speaking of sweetness, Dolores laughed and remarked, "But I hope this isn't too sweet. Chocolate has that tendency sometimes, especially when it's milk or white. Dark chocolate doesn't exactly have that issue, but even then, there's always the risk of making it too bitter. I hope none of your Kraker friends back at home are too averse to dark chocolate?" She cocked her head just as Poffin approached the table and started to sniff at the table legs. Don't feed the dog chocolate. "That asides, you're quite sweet, dear. Both in terms of company and how much you've done for me. First the painting of my dog, then the whole cake business... It's all so much. I wish I could repay you in some way, dear. I don't even think cake is enough for you at this point. Sure, you like it, but..." She stopped and rubbed the back of her neck rather awkwardly.
"I just... Wish I could do more, you know? You're always so confident in what you do and say, and though you're much younger than me, I do have to say that... I admire you in a way, yes? Not there's much I can really do about it, though, since I'm old, and I believe my personality is set at this point..."
Yea... Maybe that wasn't worth getting into.
After a pause, Dolores turned away from Leika before suggesting with a nervous chuckle, "... That doesn't matter, though. The cake should be ready to eat now. You know, not hot enough to burn the tongue or whatever. If you like it enough, I can bake it and send it back down to Drakenburg, for your friends to eat. Would that suffice, dear?"
this is... very sweet.... time for a quick follow-up...
Poor Dolores looked like she was about to explode into a million pieces, but that was probably because hugs were... Surprisingly not part of her forte. Sure, she was fine with hugging people, but... When it came to being hugged, it was just the tiniest bit surreal. Not in a bad way, of course. Just... Surreal.
There was really no other way to describe it.
"Well, uh," the elder blurted with an awkward laugh, "It's... Good to see you again, miss. There's really not that much flowers up here; they're all rather small and not that impressive in bouquets..." Gee. Imagine not being able to accept the fact that people liked her companionship. Dolores shifted off to the side as soon as the hug was completed, though that was probably just because - well - maybe the "younger" woman should get inside by now. There was a chill in the air that was certainly worth reckoning with, and she wasn't going to let her charge freeze to death just because of a slightly reckless decision.
She was, in fact, about to bring that up before the other party spoke again. In denial, the elder pointed a finger at herself while thinking, Kind? Humble? ... Honorable?
That's not right.
Dolores looked off towards the frame of the door, especially with that little comment about being "too humble." There really wasn't much she could do in that regard, to be honest. She was meant to be a simple maid, a lowly maid. She, in other words, had to be humble. Whether or not she constantly deferred to other people literally determined whether she was going to receive her next paycheck or not.
The older woman chuckled at the other party's words before replying with a wave of her hand, "You're too kind in that regard, miss. I think flattery is welcoming, but it gets saccharine at times. Perhaps you should be saving it for more... Deserving people, yes? People can be loyal to a fault, you know." She wasn't wrong. Dolores looked back inside the house before biting down on her lip. "Besides... You want to come inside? Not that I should be asking you, but... Just in case. There has to be a better reason you're visiting me at this particular time - not to be rude - ma'am..."
Selene greets Dolores with a hug, pulling away with a smile as she gently sets her hands on the elder's shoulders. "So kind, and so humble. Sometimes too humble ma'am. You're moral and decent, warm and honorable."
The demoness curtsies in a bow to Dolores, her eyes holding a friendly gleam. "You discredit yourself far too much, because I have nothing but respect for you. I wish that one day, I can build as strong of a reputation for loyalty as you. I want to be someone who others know they can always depend on, just like you."
"Oh my goodness! I'm sorry for staring, but your eyes..." Zinnia huffed after gaining the disguised demoness's attention.
"I haven't seen any eyes like yours. They're so... pretty. I love them." Upon completing her sentence, her lips curled into a smile.
"Were they always like that? Do you love them? I—oh, I'm talking to much. I'll leave you alone..." Her sudden burst of curiosity had quickly vanished, replaced by the embarrassed expression that was plastered on her face as soon as she turned away.
NP, here's Zinnia's dA ref!
"You know, dear," cooed Brown as she gently ran her fingers through the teenager's hair in an attempt to style it, "You must be real, real brave for wanting to associate with a canine like myself. Not literally, of course, but I reckon that you get the point. I am cruel, unloving, and cold. I probably killed a man too, and several more. It depends on what you believe, of course, but..." Her voice sank down to a hum as she curled strands of blond hair around a curling iron, gently pressing on the device so that the action didn't cause too much pain (hopefully).
"... Here you are anyway, under the fangs of a wolf-" Brown stopped herself to laugh for a moment, coyly waving a hand as if she didn't say anything. "- Oh dear, I must have not uttered that, huh..."
The older woman set the curling iron aside before taking out a hairbrush and starting to go through the bangs on the teenage girl's head. Her motions were fluid and full of confidence, though Brown treated it all so casually. She actually didn't see that much use in it; it was only really useful when it came to preparing herself for formal occasions, and even then, it didn't help her look any more "friendly" or "approachable." She was still the eponymous, infamous Wolf in the end, and there was nothing she could do about it. Her smile faded for a second, before placing the brush down on the dresser, then gently sweeping a few strands of hair aside.
In a softer voice, Brown admitted, "But... That asides... You are rather sweet... Even if I find such folk rather weak, usually. But... You..." Coughing into her sleeve, she stepped back - partially so she could have more space to articulate her thoughts, and partially so she could marvel on how she styled the girl's hair. "... You are sweet in a good way, if that makes sense..." Goodness, that sounds so stupid, the middle-aged woman almost wanted to utter right afterwards, and to some degree, it genuinely did feel that way to her. However, Brown was still deeply entrenched in the "grounded" principle, and as much as she bit down on her lip for even thinking such a thought...
I suppose it is right to some degree.
"I know I tease you for it all the time," sniffed the aristocrat while eyeing the utensils left out on the table, "but... I do mean it. You are much braver than you realize, miss. And that kindness is what carries you through, I suppose..." Gee. Like she needed another not-child to add to her ongoing collection of them... Brown, in an attempt to lighten up the conversation ever so gingerly, chuckled into her knuckles before waving a hand and delivering a rather exaggerated roll of her eyes, the latter being so staged that it was impossible to take seriously.
Brown placed her hands on the teenager's shoulders as she stated, "Please, keep it that way. Life has its ways of fucking you up, and I imagine that it would be a shame if it got its shit on you." The middle-aged woman paused for a second before letting go, then holding her own hands close to her bosom, her fingers fidgeting with a crow's-feather brooch in the meanwhile. "But you look good, huh?" she asked, "Good enough for a fossil collectors' gathering, actually. They're surprisingly stringent people, you know. I can only hope that you are ready for such an event later on, dear."
oh god. encouraging Brown's edgy side is ALWAYS objectively a bad idea. time for a follow-up.
Like a bitch, Brown still ignored the tea dished out to her by the hellhound-butler. She didn't like tea, to be fair, but she never voiced it out of obligation. Tea was always seen as a proper drink by the upper class, far superior to coffee - which was considered bourgeois at best, quite kitsch at worst. Brown begged to differ. She thought that coffee was the superior drink, because it actually tasted like something; tea, on the other hand, just tasted like water to her.
No wonder she felt like tipping the cup over, just to spite him.
But her hands were still, folded even as they rested against her sides, before the middle-aged woman carefully hummed, "When is this 'Selene' person coming here anyways? I hope she isn't busy avoiding you again..." She laughed coyly before raising a hand to gently rub her chin. "You know how young women are sometimes. Or those who don't know much better... They never listen to what anyone says, even those who want to protect them. You might think it's pitiful, dangerous even. I think it's nice. Let the girl do her thing every so often. There's no harm involved, right?"
She was clearly being sarcastic, but go off.
Her eyes fluttered around the room before finally meeting Timothy's. It was achieved rather reluctantly, because elitism is an asshole.
"Fossils, dear, fossils," she sighed with a pleasant little smile on her face, "It's always important to be precise when accounting for that particular profession... Wouldn't you agree?" Brown giggled and continued rubbing her rough chin, then leaned back against her seat. "Of course, that ignores all the stupid fucking scientific terminology that tends to be such a pivotal force in the paleontological field, but... Who am I to say? I am just an aristocrat, after all-" Which was undermined just moments later as Timothy spoke about how her reputation didn't seem to faze the other party. Well, that's a shame.
Brown's smile faded before she remarked, "Well... I suppose that it is the case. Better to be safe than sorry in that regard, you know." With a gingerly chuckle, the woman hummed a stray note before finally touching the teacup... But not drinking from it. Disgusting. "I would rather make people fear me than love me. It's not what I give a shit about, really. Fear is always a stronger motivator than appreciation, and I rather like that. Nothing is better than seeing someone shudder upon seeing me, or hearing my name... Nothing. That's how you know you've reached true infamy."
Yea, that was pretty edgy.
"I could educate you on it if you would like. Even if you are just a servant, you should have some backing in case one tries to take advantage of your misfortunes..."
kafkaesque is he implying brown would fit in down under? Maybe
Timothy eyes Brown from the corner of the room, then sits up straighter when she finally catches his eyes.
"Lady Selene says you're very educated in creatures long dead." He squints, but then the smallest hint of a smile appears in the corner of his mouth. "Your reputation, it dissuades her not at all. Regardless of if the things people say about you is true", he tilts his head, "It's hard not to respect the ability to make others wary and afraid. Where I'm from, such a thing is revered, it's a trait I aspire to hone and master."
Huh, well. From one wolfish creature to another, he supposed.
fizzelston Tim can be kinda intense- trust me, this is just how he says 'hello, I consider you a friend' XD
Timothy only grunted at Roswell's joke, but accepted the cigarette with a nod and lit it up with a zippo lighter. As he blew smoke out, his eyes settled onto Roswell.
"I smoke occasionally, but I have no such addiction mortals typically experience." He pauses, going in for another drawl. "My name is Timothy, not Mister Hound. But yes, I am very loyal. Lady Selene and I are bound by a Contract, an unbreakable link between souls." He pulls off his glove and holds up the back of his hand. On it is a black marking, a pentacle with a heart at it's center and runes around the edges. Timothy inspects it with an almost smile, then puts his glove back on. "That is her sacred mark, it means I am hers until our contract ends. However, there is no reason I am in this Contract other than I wish only so serve her."
The hellhound leans back against the wall, and looks out the window. "The mistress quite likes you and your associates. She talks about you often, seeing her so pleased is... I enjoy it. She often has trouble making real friends, especially ones who accept what she is." He turns his head, narrowing his eyes as he breathes in the last of the cigarette. "Any friend of hers is friend to me, but the same goes for enemies as well. If you ever betray Selene, if you ever willingly allow harm to come to her... I will rip you asunder and consume your soul." The servant puts the cig out with his fingers, tossing it into the trash.
"I hope you do not do that, as I do not detest your presence. Continue to treat my mistress right, and we will be the best of friends."
Roswell held out a cigarette to Timothy. A meek expression on his face. "You're grandly loyal roi? loike a houn'," he said. Smiling sheepisly at his own joke. Roswell scratched his small sideburns as if they could help him collect his thoughts. All these demons and hell creatures showing up lately at his doorstep... People teleporting through the shadows, dark magic... It was a bit much.
"Oi mean that's a gran' tin'," he quickly added too his first comment. "Dare are enoof people in dees quarters in town loike nathin' more than stabbin' someone in de back." Roswell included though.
"An' yisser polite too, that's also quite..rare." Roswell said. Another comment that wasn't directed at himself. Roswell awkwardly shook the cigarette. "Yer smoke roi mister houn'?"
Ochhhh Brown 😤😭♥. It's the middle of the night but I had to reply.. Don't mind my 200 million grammar mistakes for once I have an excuse and that excuse is that is literally 3 in the morning-
Roswell did notice her strained movements around him, but he didn't comment on it. She would tell him if she wanted too. No need to pry. Besides, right now he was too busy reading his book. The day after committing arson, blowing up a big chunk of the bunker harbor in process, was the perfect reading day. It's sunny! He had to take the opportunity.
Roswell peeked up from his pages as her rough fingers softly entangled his. He smiled at her. "Tell me aboyt it, " he said with a huff. "Rain, rain an' more rain, " he muttered. He softly frowned when she mentioned the fire and he gave her hand a little squeeze before saying with a smile. "A part of the harbor too." He paused. Roswell was glad she was here, she grounded him you know. In reality. Everything else felt like a swirl and unreal. Roswell let out a small chuckle. "Oh oi do, I miss de sun really" He let out a sigh and stratched. "Oi don't know if yer ever been ter Mosch, far in de south.." He asked as he shoved his book -Fishers and Merman, two worlds one love- back into his bag. He held her hand now with both his hands as he slightly turned into Brown's direction. "If not, yer shud! Especially in de summer, " he mused on. "I can be your interpreter! Oi can learn yet done words too.." He paused. "It's a beautiful city. Very old, way older then Drakenburg. Whaen 'tis gettin' late de temperatures dip jist enough ter be no longer scorin' an' yer can 'ear crickets, " he said. Roswell softly rubbed Brown's hand with his. Letting his fingertips explore the back of her hand. Careful and gently. "Thousands av dem. Yer 'ardly fend any bugs 'ere, this north. Salvador didn't even believe me whaen oi told him mosquitos are in fact real. An' they draink blood, " he said smiling at the memory. Roswell inched a tiny bit closer pressing his face gently in her hair. He eyed her and smiled. The one that showed the small dimps in his cheeks. "Ah, yes loike loike me, " he teased. Roswell pecked a soft kiss on the top of her head as she rested it against his shoulder. "Oy, or loike yer too, " he said. "Yer keep me in check yet know. And yet strong, not only in the asskick kind of way, " he continued. "Though I don't mind dat." We know.
Roswell smiled back. Still holding her hand in his. They set there in silence. A rare feat for Roswell really. His smile widened when her fingers touched his cheek. "Oi shuld 'ave shav-" and then she kissed him. A bit surprised, but in the good way, Roswell kissed her back. Roswell leaned his head softly in her hand as he smiled. "Good, " he said. "As oi don't 'ave plans of leavin' any toime soon."
- honestly valid @ that follow-up.... even if they're two boomers in love, which is.... gross.... :(
THAT ASIDES..... this is so sweet.... especially the idea of them going on a vacation to Mosch after everything cools down?? tbh they low-key deserve it after all the stress, but at the same time, I'm pretty sure Brown would kick his ass over "being an irresponsible leader" or something along those lines. u_u
this is another episode of "rusty writes too much for their own good," so... I'm gonna place this response under a spoiler box to keep this post easy to scroll past. u_u
Though it was obvious that her smile was... Strained (far more so than usual), the aristocrat still seemed quite content with the leidsman's company. Her hands twirled a parasol while she sat down on a bench, all while trying to not place too much focus on... Anything. There was the fact that the sky was still the slightest bit dusty - as well as tinged with remaining flickers of red and yellow - from the fire, smoke, and gunpowder, but then again, that could've just been her senses acting up. Hopefully. There was also the fact that looking over at Roswell was always awkward, no matter how much she warmed up to his presence.
Brown laughed and allowed a hand to gingerly touch his leathery fingertips, before remarking, "You know... I wish it was dry more often up here. It usually rains, especially during this time. I... Find it rather dreary, really." She sniffed and maintained her grip on her prized tool. "It's almost as if the fire burned everything away, including whatever clouds there could've been in the first place." Great. Now she was just making herself all solemn and angsty.
Ever since Nathaniel's little confession to her in the alleyways, Brown hadn't been able to stop... Thinking. Thinking about the fossils, thinking about Johnson... It made her wince, really. She thought that maybe going out with Roswell would help remedy that, but in hindsight, maybe the aristocrat was acting foolish - like a naive young woman all over again. Damn it.
"I suppose it's not a bad thing for you, at least," sighed Brown with a sniff, "You said you liked the sun, didn't you? It's so bright, and... Uhhh... Warm, I guess." Though still wielding the parasol like her life depended on it, her facial muscles relaxed slightly, as her eyes finally focused on the soft peat beneath their feet. "Like... I don't know..." added the aristocrat while intensifying her stare at the substrate. It was clear that she was trying not to look over at the Crow, but then again, was it too obvious? Too subtle? Her eyes narrowed before she let out another sniff and twirled the parasol.
This is going to sound so fucking stupid, she admitted silently, but the middle-aged woman mumbled anyway, "You? I..." Her hand gave his fingertips a soft squeeze while she shifted herself closer. "I don't know how else to admit it, otterface. I like how bright you are, I like how you always have that stupid grin on your face... You're far too kind to someone as dreary and - well - potentially murderous as myself, and... I guess, in a way, I appreciate that. You're a bit soft, soft enough for me to kick your ass in a fight, but... Shit, I don't know..." At this point, Brown was essentially leaning onto Roswell's shoulder, though she was so small compared to him that her head just dipped slightly below that region. "... I guess you're charming enough to convince me not to kick your ass. Like... I could, but I think it'd hurt me too much to make it worthwhile." Aww?
Her eyes finally looked up at Roswell, a proper complement to the (at least fairly) relaxed smile that she gave him. Was there anything else to say? Brown was never the most verbose, instead preferring to just say a little bit, then just end it with silence. The Crow was no exception in that regard; she didn't need to say a lot to let him know she was fine with being around him, but in terms of doing... Brown let her remaining hand go of the parasol in favor of gently stroking his cheek, rough stubble and all; then, she leaned in for a kiss on the lips. As with before, it was just a peck, but this time, she allowed it to linger for just a moment before leaning her head back just slightly below his shoulder.
While her hand still reached up to touch his cheek, Brown merely commented, "Otterface, I think it's redundant for you to know how I feel about you at this point. But please know that I care about you, and that I wouldn't mind spending time with you." She chuckled just before letting out a contented sigh. "Not at all, otterface, not at all..."
my name is rusty and I only know how to write angst.
HERE'S A FOLLOW-UP. bless you dude for the necromancy.....
Upon hearing the high-pitched, childish voice, Brown actually froze. She didn't look over her shoulder, but she certainly tensed up, and that was never a good thing.
You have got to be kidding me.
The words were all a blur to her. So what if her appearance was complimented? This was a child speaking to her. A child. Not an adult, nor even a teenager. A child, and one that sounded like it had just emerged out of infancy too. The middle-aged woman gulped, her skin paling slightly as she held her hands close to her bosom. Her fingers started to wring themselves against each other, and for a few moments, the aristocrat distracted herself through that: pulling at the joints in her digits until they popped ever so slightly, then rubbing the skin like it was cold and she needed to warm it up.
"Don't tell me my grandson is here..." Brown muttered through barely parted lips, before finally looking over her shoulder and- Oh. The child in question was a girl. She couldn't have been Brown's grandson, and the middle-aged woman let out an obvious sigh of relief as she finally turned ot face her. Nevertheless, she remained tense, as she coughed into her sleeve and grunted, "I imagine that you should be with someone right now. Where the hell are your parents?"
Next thing you know, she'd be teaching this poor toddler how to say "fuck..."
But Brown wasn't in the mood to do so, not when there was this girl she had to confront. She stood herself straight and scanned the blonde before realizing that - wait - they had spoken before. Great, so she has a kid under her wing too, she thought with a roll of her eyes, Must sound wonderful, I guess.
Not that I can attest to it myself...
"Whatever," Brown merely sighed with a wave of her hand as she stared down the other party. Her eyes actually seemed a bit harsher than usual, as she shuffled her boots against the floor. "Children are like that all the time. It's positively vile, in my opinion. They should be more reserved at times. It's for the best." The aristocrat sniffed before nodding at her words. "I... I guess," she added with a hint of... Hey. Was that hesitance? Brown now looked off to the side, as she wrung her hands together. "If that is something you find helpful... I imagine there might not be much other leads, huh? If you're willing to sink this low?" Gee.
She did, however, raise her brow when the woman mentioned her honesty. Her "honesty." Brown grimaced while rubbing the back of her neck.
"I guess that's how you can call it, miss. But yes, I prefer to be more grounded than anything else. I just find it to be the wisest decision of them all in the end..."
"Pretty hair, pretty hair!" The toddler shouted as she, well, toddled across to greet the older woman.
A blonde short haired girl chased after the tot, finally catching up to her. "Dove, what have I told you about strangers?" She picked up Dove, apologizing to the woman she didn't initially look at. "Sorry for my little sister, she just loves meeting new peopl-" She paused upon rising back up from her baby scooping and realizing who exactly she was face to face with.
"It's been a while...I'm still researching to find him. I know you didn't know him too incredibly well, but you did give me some helpful insight from what you were able to tell me. Thank you. I was scared to talk to you at first given all that I've heard but you helped me when I needed something, anything to keep me going so I really appreciate it. Even if you talked pretty disparagingly about him, I'd rather have the truth than some idealized superhero version of him in my head, y'know? So I really like your honesty." The teen said.
(There you go Brown. A 2 for 1 compliment. One about your hair, one about your helpfulness and honesty)
(I posted as Dove but if you find it too hard to compliment a toddler you can always go for her sister Clarissa linked in the post, they're kind of a package deal anyway haha)
Zinnia abruptly gasped upon noticing the toddler wandering around aimlessly. Unable to notice a guardian nearby, the teenager strutted up to Five and squatted down.
"Why, hello, ba-by!" Zinnia squeaked, briefly placing her hands on her cheeks before holding a hand towards the toddler.
"My name is Zinnia, but you can call me Zee. How about you? Can you tell me your name?" As Zinnia listened to the toddler babble, she watched as a group of tiny fingers gripped around her palm. Zinnia's lips curled into a smile as she stroked her thumb against the top of Dove's hand. The teenager appeared as if she was going to cry tears of joy; she adored young children, especially babies and toddlers.
"Honey, you're such a little cutie-patootie," the teenager gushed, her head tilting up towards the young child.
"Ooh, and your dress is so lovely. Did you pick it out yourself? " After a brief pause, Zinnia shifted her gaze up to see Dove's older sister approaching the two.
"Ooh, looks like your mommy found you. Go on over to her! Don't worry, I'll watch you. Buh-bye, little Dove!"
Thankfully, she wasn't here to ask him about math homework. Or well, anything related to math. M. Pourife was done with math since he first had to study calculus in college, yet it fried his one brain cell to the point of him leaving that type of work to his interns. That, of course, was under the claim that it was to perfect their skills, considering that they were going to "use it later on in their professional career."
Wow! What a tastefully crafted lie! At least in M. Pourife's eyes, of course. (He always had his way with words, and it was obnoxious.)
But the blonde girl wasn't an intern - or at least not yet. She was just yet another bubbly and sweet teenager with potentially too much naivety for her own good. M. Pourife didn't think such lamblike qualities were inherently bad, of course; rather, he did admire them to some degree. It wasn't every day that he encountered folks with such genuine passion about the world around them, as well as a desire to do well and please others. Sure, it may have been youthful innocence, but the scientist thought it sweet nonetheless.
Yes, sweet. Not saccharine. Just the right amount of sweetness - and the right type too - to make the scientist perk up when he saw the girl again.
"Oh, do you need anything?" he asked her with a slight chuckle. The middle-aged man ran his fingers through his hair before glancing over his shoulder to face her more properly. "I have to admit; your presence surprised me for a second. I thought you were going to ask me about math again." His chuckling escalated into a laughter as he firmly clenched his sides, clearly thinking that what he said was the funniest shit in the world. But hey, maybe he was also trying to form a solidarity with the teenage girl - given that she was associated with that honorary intern of his, as well as the fact that she mentioned previously that she wasn't the best at math.
He shrugged before humming casually, "Not that it matters anyway. I am off work at the moment, and I do have some time on my hands. Convenient, would you agree?" Regrading the girl carefully, the scientist still had a smile on his face. Birds of a feather really did flock together, then! "I was actually going to get some food for myself in one of the nearby stores," he explained further, though now his voice sounded like he was trying to ascertain what he was thinking to himself, "Mostly... Mostly just a sandwich or two - I heard the imitation meat there was good. But I might get a pastry along the way too. The bakery close to here bakes such wonderful cookies..."
"You like cookies, right? Then you can come along if you want. Someone as sweet as yourself should be able to indulge in something every so often - even though I am no proverbial individual myself."
I'll do a follow-up for NP or ELSE.