Dragon was everything opposite of Johnson. Where Johnson was old, mature, and wise, Dragon was young, timid, and scared. And it showed. His very stance radiated fear, like a doe ready to flee at any sign of danger. He sniffed, color-changing eyes looking in every possible direction except at Johnson. The tips of his index fingers rubbed together sheepishly. He sniffed, his lips pursed so tight that they resembled a squiggled line; he looked like he was ready to burst into tears already.
"Y-You're really t-tal-lented," Dragon finally managed to utter out. "Y-You're smart and sk-killed, a-and you know how to cont-trol your emotions. Lots of people really l-like you for that. I w-wish I could do that too, b-but I get too scared that people won't like me..." He finally looked at Johnson, at his expression. Dragon whimpered, eyes immediately filling with tears before he bawled into his oversized sleeves.
( 2020 october edit; how and why is this so popular cool tht y'all r having fun though. i still hate how i worded this post but it was like 2018 or smth ) ( this thread was made like 2 years ago, i literally hate how i typed back then hfdjvddjnf )
Pretty self-explanatory. You post IC *and also say it in-character* and look at their character (backstory n stuff, or just appearance) and say what your oc would envy about that oc. Optional: Edit your post saying how your character would respond to the OCs envy.
For example...
Echo: Hi (starter post idk)
Azazel: You have so many weapons and handy tools, dude, you gotta have one for like, every situation right? I'm so jelly man-
(idk)
Rules: You can post again after 5 posts please do it with a different character or different version (( although after the second post of yours is uh,, well posted, and after 5 posts you can use that chara again! )) If you/your oc say(s) anything offensive, please put it as a spoiler, make the color white, or black it out. You can access the black out thing by using the color tool and going to background =P (( I regret using that emoji in my past, please end me ))
That's all I gotta say really. Hit me with your best shot~!
all of my forum games fail i swear- (edit: except this one apparently.)
(Wow, you people really like to be envious of each other.)
//////////// ( response; True, I-i suppose. All that robots really do need is an engineer, a-after all. Though a bad thing is that all of my friends who aren't immortal like some of my friends, i'll eventually see their d-death. Though, i could be reprogrammed to forget the friend(s) in question, but t-that'd be horrible!... )
Vachiro slumps against the wall, eyeing the other boy. He is cute and sweet. Timid and shy, he reminds Vachiro of his sister in some ways. He observes the boy as he stutters through a conversation, it is almost endearing, really. But that is not him. Vachiro has grown cold and dark and distant. He has seen too much, has been through too much. He is corrupt. From afar, he wishes that he could have that kind of innocence. And have that approachable demeanor, his own doesn't create for many friendships. He supposes that he has no right to complain having given that up for power. He almost approaches the boy but he can't imagine that the boy would take well to someone like him so he keeps his musings to himself and wanders away.
Brown eyed the lad with some tension before remarking, "Well, I hate to admit it, but for a child like yourself, you sure seemed like the jaded type." She laughed with the slightest ring, because she thought it was pretty fucking funny of her to point that out. Though to be fair, she could sort of speak from personal experience: after all, the aristocrat did have a daughter of her own, and though she was sort of dead in her eyes (ever since she ran off with her betrothed), she could still vividly remember how meek the girl was.
"I wish I was like that, when I was younger," she hummed with a trace of wistfulness, as her eyes trailed down to the cigarette that she held in her hand. It was unlit, though she planned on lighting it very soon, if only to reduce the tension that was about to sneak into her voice. "I used to be so innocent. I thought that the world was inherently good, that the people I met were meant to help me. That, of course, was when I was a maiden. Now that I am a widow, I am sure you would guess that I think differently."
"I would not blame you for that assumption, not at all," Brown grunted as her brows started to knit together, "I learned in time that the world is cruel. You need to be cruel back if you want to stand a chance, which is why I do not give a damn that you are so motivated by spite. I think it is rather admirable, actually. To become wise so quickly, that is at least a trait I can admire in other people. It hurts less that way in the end, trust me. You at least get to enter adulthood jaded and not having to worry about someone robbing it from you."
I know that I would have used it myself. She wanted to add that, but she found it rather futile. Nothing can change what happened before, and it is not like I can bring back Skinner from the dead and bash his stupid fucking head in.
Once more, the aristocrat chuckled, though it was more... Desperate, than anything else? Goodness, where the hell is the lighter when she you need it? With irritation starting to become present on her face, Brown glanced around the room for any sight of the tool before giving up and just sticking the cigarette in her mouth. Then, she started to chew on the nub; the tobacco, clearly meant for smoking and not for chewing, tasted bitter and grainy, but she didn't give a shit. She probably would've even shifted the talk to tobacco if given half the chance.
Almost reassuringly, Brown placed a hand on the boy's shoulder before stating, "Trust me, though... It is a one-way path. Once you lose that lamb-like innocence, it is indeed gone forever. However, I would not recommend getting it back, even if you want it that desperately. Work with that spite of yours and turn it into something productive, hm?" Oh. "Think of your spite as a way for you to realize how the world really is, before... You know... It hits you even harder as an adult..." She trailed off, her voice petering into nothing as she looked off. Her expression was significantly clouded at this point, and it was much unlike her usual self; however, it'd still be a very foolish decision to ask whether she was okay...
FINALLY. the two interact.... and Brown gets to be a terrible parental figure to yet another innocent character.... Sal deserves better than her tbh- >:(
time for.... a (somewhat long) follow-up....
For once, Brown came to her senses and decided to tow along the little weasel man for one of her fossil gigs instead of... Well... A certain Crow... But she had her reasons! Ever since her first outing with Roswell, she had the feeling that he only went to the digs so he could pay attention to her - not so he could actually learn the craft. And though - surprisingly enough - she was flattered by it at least somewhat, it still kind of pissed her off too. It pissed her off enough where the primary motivator to taking one of Roswell's henchmen out was sheer spite.
Oh, and the fact that this one actually seemed interested in digging in general. He wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty, or so she heard, and she found that at least admirable.
Brown hummed to herself while brushing the dust off the fossil she had just uncovered: a pretty looking fern that had almost every detail intact, ranging from the frond itself to some of the smallest veins. She was impressed by it, of course, though her attention was directed to the smaller thief as he spoke. Even though he opened with something she'd normally try beating up a man for, the woman just continued to dust off the remaining particles before turning to face him with a smooth smile.
"You have a bite for someone so small, don't you?" she teased while gently rubbing the rock the plant was cast upon, "I could easily snap your neck right now, right here if you say the wrong words. But here you are, risking death just to voice yourself." She giggled coyly before waving a hand aside. "To be fair, though, there is so little to pity about me. So you would not be unusual in that regard, which is a good thing. Better to spite me than behave otherwise." Brown's smile faltered slightly when she realized that technically, she was being a huge hypocrite, but the woman quickly shrugged off her insecurity and seated herself so that she could try wrapping the fossil in some cloth.
It was quiet once more for a bit, except for the youth's voice. Brown was okay with this. She at least found it a bit more tolerable than Roswell's constant blabber, because the weasel knew when to shut up every so often. Not that she wanted him to do so right now, of course. But if she had to choose between the moments of silence between her and the younger man - or the constant chaos that always seemed to follow Roswell - she'd definitely take the former.
She continued humming to herself while allowing the wrapped fossil to rest on her lap. Her arms still cradled around it just in case it slipped, and in a way, it really was like a baby to her. Sure, ferns were common, but this one was in mint condition. And... Well... They did remind her of a fond memory from previously.
After her digging companion finished speaking, Brown turned to face him before giving him a nod and replying, "To be fair... Being skilled with fossils is something that runs in the blood. At least for me. Where I am from, fossils are the main specialty, even for aristocrats. They are more seen as status symbols than something to really learn from, but..." Her look and voice softened - though it was hard to read the emotion behind it - as she gazed back at the rock. "... I think remnants of the past should be something to admire from both an analytical and aesthetic standpoint, you know? There is so much you can learn from one rock, such as how the organism lived or what it looked like... Sure, I keep a lot of them in my home, but... Even then, I make sure to learn something from each one. Every rock has a story, and it is up to fossil hunters like myself to read and translate them for the laypeople."
"But... Even then, I had to teach myself much of the craft - mainly through trial-and-error. I did work for a museum for a bit when I was a young woman, but my parents instead thought I should be a housewife. My husband clearly didn't think differently either." Brown's voice hardened as she let out a bitter laugh, though even then, there was that sign of vulnerability that kept her hunched like a canine ready to attack if provoked.
"Though," she piqued in with a cocked head, "I think what you are discussing is different from fossil hunting. Well, asides from the fact that coal is really fossilized plants, but..." With a tender titter, the aristocrat set the fossil aside so that she could focus on the conversation at hand. "... That asides, I remember that you are- Were a miner, right? Something like that would be suitable for your field. You have no need to be ashamed of it, and let me tell you: even then, it is always okay to have interests beyond what you currently work for - at least professionally. Okay?"
In a squatting position, Salvador watched as Brown polished the fresh dugout fossil. Some pieces of old rock. Funny how coal was some kind of fossil too, though as he watched Brown dusting off the old rock with her pencil. Salvador had been quiet the entire time. Observant even. When most of the dust layer was removed, Salvador cleared his throat.
"There are a lot of things I don't envy about you, " he said. With the hint of a smile. Great opening, nice words to start a conversation with. Brown had taken Salvador along for a carriage ride he didn't have to pay, gave him tools, learned him how to recognizable valuable rocks -wel the basics of it- éven packed a lunch for the two of them, and this how Salvador repaid her. Classic. "But..you're quiet schooled hu?" He said. As he tried a better position then this squatting one he had been doing for hours now. "Like, really schooled in these, " he nodded at the fossil, " types of things. The digging stuff. I, barely know the basics, " he admitted. "I know coal, gold, mining, but that's it, " he said. "Couldn't afford university or sumthin'".
--
Och MY HEART Me right now
"I have lived for a long time," Lan's voice rumbled as the area grew darker and colder. Within the blink of an eye Salvador would find the slender silhouette standing besides him. "I have seen my work backfire tremendously, yet at the same time I have seen it created immeasurable progress. Emotions that have evolved and grown, some that now eat away at one's life, and some that cannot touch them." He turned his head to face the thief. "You. You encompass all of it. The positive happiness and cheerfulness, and the negative bitterness and frustration. Nor do you hide from them. You accept these emotions, you grow with them. You truly are an individual being." He looked back forward, chuckling lightly as he pressed his hand to his chest. "Such willingness and acceptance is something I hardly see now. I wonder if it's relief or envy I feel."
And just like that, he was gone, and so too was the darkness and the chill.
"I am not the Void," his voice lingered. "But I believe I understand why it chose you."
"Are you serious?" Philomena chuffed, staring at the supernatural creature in front of her. "It's a frickin' lamp. How can I envy a material object? "
Philomena maintained her pout as she crossed her arms. Though she did not want to say it, the supernatural lamp-like creature had some kind of charm in her opinion. She admired the colorful flames that flickered around. It eminated a type of beauty that is not quite as familiar to her.
"Hmph. What am I judging next, a salt shaker?"
"You're like really popular right?" Jan-Paul asked. He hopped a bit on his feet while inspecting Philomena. "I mean, Im too very famous, of course. People flock to me like birds, for my money. Maybe like crows as they always seem to wanted to gét my money but that's fine. An. I just...want to know how you became so loved in the public eye. And not for only your money, but for you and your " he frowned. Jan-Paul's world had a telephone, no radio let alone a telly. "Performances? On the small square stages."
--
100% totally unaware of this canyon between them, unaware that not all rich people we're born with a silver spoon in their mouth, Jan-Paul almost childishly waved her over. "Oh miss Bellazhanna!" He said with a positive but big smile and pricked ears. "Have you seen my stables yet? I would love to show you! It's built-in an old prayer chapel, with wall paintings, I should have that removed some time." God, you really don't deserve your money dude.
Since the thread has been stuck for almost 24 hours I hope it's alright for me to post again so soon
Bellazhanna knows opulence when she sees it. Even it it weren't something that clings heavily to her own person, something that she knows well. His not so humble beginnings are is in his posture, his stride, and in his clothing and jewelry. It bleeds through in his speech, the way he gestures as he speaks. It is particularly apparent when he addresses those less fortunate than he. He speaks of boats and precious stones as though everyone has at least one. In fact he seems to think it unfathomable that some of them wear clothes with holes or rips. He questions of one of them, "they why not just buy yourself a meal." This man has clearly never had to struggle for the clothes on his back.
It is for this that she is envious. They are of the same class and yet they are not the same at all. While he hasn't had to lift a finger for what he has, she had to claw her way out of the absolute bottom. Where he had money served to him along side macaroons and needlessly lavish dishes, she had to procure coins and single dollar bills from the most unsavory places.
She wishes with all of her soul that she could have been born where he is at just as he had been. She wishes that she didn't have to know what it was like to be among the beggers that he is so out of touch with. It might not make her a better person, hell it would probably make her morally worse, but she wishes that she could be just as out of touch.
With a small frown, Dolores regarded the other party in front of her while trying her best not to chuckle from nervousness, given that... Well... The latter was so impressive in terms of appearance and demeanor, with those extravagant clothes and strong personality... It was impossible for the older woman - and former maid, for that matter - to compare, yet here she was, looking up at the other party in what was most likely awe.
Would it be a stretch to say that she envied the half-vampire? Probably. It was more likely that the other party just intimidated the fuck out of her, but... The power the younger woman possessed was attractive to Dolores, in a way, and she wrung her hands just thinking about it.
Power is the antithesis to weakness. It's better to be strong than to be weak. You must learn to be brutal, lest someone else see it as an opportunity to exploit. Be careful, be careful...
After offering a quick curtsy, the elder started before quickly sinking into a stammer, "You know, miss- I mean, madame... I... I do apologize..." The older woman bit onto her lip and glanced off to the side while repeating the curtsy, as if she wanted to start the interaction over and just... Hopefully diminish the deep, expansive rift that separated the two - not only literally in terms of height, but also figuratively in terms of ranking. (Dolores, after all, was meant to be hypersensitive to such differences.) "... Madame?"
"That asides," Dolores sighed while listening to the tea kettle whistle in the background, "You're certainly the type of person who's proud of themselves, and... I wouldn't blame you one bit. To be born into such a low ranking, and then gradually work your way up until you reach one of the highest ranks in your society..." She gave the other party a smile, albeit one that almost seemed... Pained, in a way? "It's very admirable, to say the least. I wish more stories were like that."
Conveniently omitted was the fact that under the aristocrats Dolores worked with, the other would've merely considered "nouveau riche" - an almost certain pejorative that merely demonstrated the tentative nature of such a rank. The older woman knew that the other party wouldn't live to become a full aristocrat, ever, in her society, but... That was Dolores's world. Hers was probably different. She had to remember that...
Dolores walked over to the tea kettle and set it off to the side before opining once more, "I mean that... In the sense that sometimes, it's possible to work hard but not get anything meaningful in the end. But I'm not even talking about wealth specifically. Just anything, really..." Her eyes drifted off to the window as she let out a prolonged sigh, even allowing to rest a cheek against her palm in the process. "... Like... I don't know... Friends, or maybe the feeling that you've done all that you could... You know, not having to worry about what you've done in the past..." She looked back over at the other with a startled look after that last tidbit.
"Oh goodness, I must be getting off-topic again, huh? Do you want to say anything else, or should I continue?"
tbh I could've gone with either angst or fluff for this.... guess which route I went! :")))
here's a follow-up for sweet Jasper.....
For better or for worse, Dolores was oblivious to the young man watching her from afar... As well as his dynamic with her ex-friend, but... Again. That was a can of worms not worth opening.
"The snow doesn't seem too heavy today," she remarked with a slight frown while tracing her foot against the ground. Like she claimed, a thin layer of snow coated the sole of her boot, but it wasn't nearly enough to completely fill up the ridges and valleys of said sole. The older woman sighed, then added, "That's a little surprising... Even during summer, it always snows at least every other day. Maybe it's just unusually hot today?" Not that she expected the mountainside to be anything like the town she used to call home, but...
Biting down on her lip, she looked off to the side and wrung her hands together. Dolores started to get the feeling that she was being watched, Yet as she only heard a bird's call from afar, the older woman - as always - assumed that she was just conjuring stuff up. That was always the case then, back then.
Why would it be different now?
Why would it be different now?
She took a breath, one that seemed to make her feel just... A little bit better? Dolores still felt that nagging sensation, but by then, it had subsided into a dull ache that could really be mistaken for discomfort, and she saw no reason to keep picking at it like some disgusting old scab. Which was why she finally looked around the conifers and noticed a young man staring at her.
With widened eyes, Dolores immediately called out, "Sir? Are you okay there?" She gave him a curt wave of her hand before stepping over in his direction. "I do apologize if this is a coincidence, and I'm being a bother, but do you need anything? I could... Always take someone in if you need somewhere to stay for the night." Yea. Stay for the night. The sun was bright, and the birds that hopped through the branches all seemed to be diurnal. Dolores was definitely playing herself here.
"So, please, do come forth. I don't mean any harm."
Looks like someone was foreign to the concept of admiration. Poor sweet Dolores, who was a bit too aware of how much her peaceful life was on shaky ground.
"Oh is going to be completely honest with you, " the older man while softly rubbing his chin. He eyed the youth with a small frown, but a bright and warm smile. "I think a lot of people will say that your impulsive nature is something to frown on but.. I admire it, really. Maybe envy it even, " Xander said. He let out soft laughter. "I always overthink éverything. What to eat for breakfast, which note will suit a piece better. Sometimes I wish I had that..moxie, that you've got young sir Jasper. I e seen you playing your guitar and, oh don't mind my rambling I'm just passionate about music but, your playstyle..its so spontaneous, so impulsive, admirable." Xander said. "It adds such a flavor to it. Something an old restricted men like me can only dream of."
After about the fifteenth failed attempt at as much as a vocal warm-up, En plodded across the room to the nearest chair and sat down with a sigh. "It's no use, Xander," he grumbled while looking down. "I'm never going to be able to sing. I've had countless teachers, even my brother tried to teach me, but you heard it yourself, I can't hold a single note." He sighed again and shook his head before looking up at him with a sad smile. "I'm really grateful you stuck around, though. Typically people storm out in frustration halfway through the day. I wish I could be more like you: thoughtful, patient, and talented. Especially talented. I mean, your singing was noticed by your country's emperor! If I could sing even a fraction like you do then I know I could go home confidently." He dropped his head again. "Maybe you should go in my place. I bet my people would rather have you as king."
En hesitated at Nelum. He thought he'd never see another siren, and he was frankly... scared. He braced himself for what kind of insult would come his way, but to his surprised, it was a compliment. "Oh... thanks," he said slowly, looking over at Nelum. He'd never seen a siren like him. Could he belong to a different group somewhere in the world? Did that group also know about him...? Despite those questions, there was one thing that stood out to En: Nelum's smile didn't reach his eyes. They were sad and slightly bitter; they were familiar. En's expression softened with understanding.
"... Sirens are pretty mean, huh?" he asked with a small smile. "My homeland was pretty... upset that I couldn't sing. They didn't hold back on the punches. And... I can tell something happened to you too. I guess sometimes you get so stuck on your own problems you don't really look at what others are dealing with, huh?" He paused. "If you'd like, would you like to have some dinner with me and my friends? I think they'd be excited to meet another siren."
^ OH NO HE'S SO GOOD （ｉДｉ）
Gods, there was so much Nelum wanted to bring up. He swallowed his contempt, because what he felt went beyond envy. A siren, it seemed, and a wanderer not unlike himself. Yet in spite of what he was, En had been born into royalty. Where was the fear? The horror? How many times had he been considered a monster just for being? Had this boy ever been subject to those things? The very idea that a siren could be royalty was unheard of where Nelum came from. To admit that openly would be far too bold, however. Even in the company of someone who might be like him, he would never out himself. With a tilt of his head and a broad smile, Nelum spoke, citing something equally true, but far less revealing.
“Your hair is a very pretty color, I’m a little jealous!” The words were accompanied with a small laugh, as if to say, ‘of course, I’m only a little jealous’, though that would have been a lie in itself-- he was jealous, but far more so than he'd ever admit.
i'm sorry nelum sucks lmao, he's very entitled to his own suffering and tends to go yOU'RE SUFFERING? not my problem!!
Fitzgerald had sneaked over to the docks for the noon to hop on one of the trawlers for the sake of researching what species the fishermen caught, but... All he stumbled into was a green-haired fellow who seemed... Unusual. No, that wasn't the right word.
The other party definitely didn't look conventionally attractive, but as the saying often went, beauty was in the eye of the beholder. So, the youth - in spite of his own pride - was more than willing to toss his preconception aside in favor of perhaps being a bit too curious about this wanderer. After all, he seemed like he knew something about the types of bones littered around the fisheries, but at the same time, there was... Another, more superficial reason why the young man chose this fellow over - say - just a normal fisherman.
"I heard your singing voice a while back," hummed the man with a twirl of his hand, "Not that I knew for certain until I saw you right now, but..." He coughed into his sleeve and brushed some dust off his coat. "You know, sometimes, when I look out at the sea, I swear that there's a voice that I'm hearing, and it's like... A song? Not like the stupid cawing of the seagulls, not like the horns of the ships. It's... Fuck, how do I say it? Almost... Beguiling, in a way. Does... Does that make any sense?"
It might've been best not revealing how he managed to connect the dots; that likely would've required so much mental gymnastics that Fitzgerald's mind would've short-circuited just trying to recall it.
He sniffed before perching himself on top of a sock post and continuing, "I know it's a bit stupid to say because... People like you seem to have naturally good, even great, voices, but... You want to know something?" There was a pause before the man leaned in ever so slightly in the other party's direction. Disgusting. "Even for an aristocrat like myself, I have a shitty voice. I've never sung in public, and for good reason! It's a shame, but... Singing is supposed to be an aristocratic feat, or... Something along those lines... Yet I can't sing! But then again, neither can my parents, so it's probably their fucking fault for that. I could demonstrate if you want." Don't.
Regardless of any answer given, Fitzgerald took in a sharp inhale before delivering a single, obviously off-key note. Oh. He descended into a coughing fit soon afterwards before waving his hands and offering the other party a sheepish grin.
"You heard what I mean? Can't fucking sing. Obviously, my flaws are accommodated through my strengths, but... It's still a pretty shitty flaw. Singing well sounds nice, anyhow. Must be convenient when trying to lure people into your favor... Which is why I can't help but envy you in that regard. Doesn't that stoke your ego in a way? I know how much it'd mean to be if someone told me those exact same words, hmm?"
I'd die for your writing, but boosting Fitzgerald's ego - even if unintentionally - is... always a shitty idea.... I'm so sorry for Koko tbh- :")))
here's a follow-up for them!!
First impressions were always important to Fitzgerald, who considered impressions overall to be important - of course. But the first ones? Oh, they were crucial. They could literally make or break his status as an aristocrat delving into the research field - a convenient way to gain clout in two fields! Hell, his ego was bloated just thinking about it, and someone definitely needed to kick his ass soon, lest he start genuinely becoming convinced that he was "the one."
Whatever that meant.
Besides, it was certain that the "one" meant to kick Fitzgerald's ass wasn't going to be the individual loitering near him, and the longer they stayed there, the more agitated the youth was becoming. This will be fine. This won't result in some edgy outburst whatsoever.
"You need anything?" piqued in Fitzgerald with a twirl of his hand. His voice seethed with confidence, but it wasn't even the wholesome, uplifting kind; rather, it was the one that seemed vaguely patronizing and backhanded, meant to assert dominance and push others down instead of pulling them up. And holy shit, did this asshole seem to like it when he knew that he was in charge. Accordingly, he puffed out his chest and ran his fingers through his curly hair before humming, "But, of course, take your time. We both have all the time in the world for this kind of stagnation, don't we?"
Liar liar, pants on fire.
The youth chuffed under his breath when the other party started to recall what was a very obvious virtue of his: confidence. Of course it was! Fitzgerald turned to them with a stupidly smug smile, one that definitely deserved to be wiped off his face. Yet, of course, as he relished in his own superiority, the power gap also became all the more clear.
"Oh, of course I do!" he replied with a teasing giggle, yet such a giggle was so saccharine it might've as well been mocking, "You know how it is... Being rich and famous. Well, eventually. Right now I'm just rich. But soon... I'll be famous, and that's when everyone will really pay attention to me." With another giggle, hie allowed his fingers to come to a still after tossing a lock of his curly hair aside. "It's fine, really. Don't worry too much about it."
His brow raised when they mentioned the birds perched on his shoulder, and - of course - he started to laugh. Fuck off, Fitzgerald.
"The birds aren't mine, you know!" exclaimed the aristocrat with a grin, "I just found them in the wild and managed to win them over with some birdseed. Now, would you-" He trailed off for a moment so that he could pull out the birdseed from his pocket and prove his point. "See? I mean... I do have a pet with me right now, but... She isn't that important." Hey, what the fuck? "Also, I have a dog, but... He's at home right now. So right now, the birds can just be seen as loans! Loans!" And with that, he continued to laugh, almost as if he was just... Enjoying himself way too much - for his own good.
Confidence.
There was a lot to say about the person in front of them, not all of them great (Koko was never a big fan of people who thought only about themselves, and they disliked when people talked too loudly, and it sure didn't help to see someone flaunt their wealth when you're flat broke and unemployed) but there was one thing that they were sure about the ostentatiously-dressed person in front of them and it was that he was extremely confident. And even though there was... all that other stuff that made him someone Koko didn't feel great about being around, they couldn't help but not feel envious of that trait.
God, confidence. If only I had confidence, that would solve so many of my problems, thought Koko. Not running away the moment I see someone. Going outside for more than 5 seconds. Facing my parents and telling them how I felt about being forced into a major. Not having to feel ashamed for not doing every little thing they say.
Making friends.
Knowing what the hell I want in life.
Confidence. This was... a chance at being confident. Tell him this. Tell him how much you admire being confident. Go on, before he leaves.
Clutching the edges of their yellow jacket, looking down at the floor, they stepped forward towards the haughty-looking man, gulped, and opened their mouth.
"I--" they froze. No, wait. Try again. "I-I think... it's really great... that you're so confident. I'm not really... I... so, that's why I think... um, that it's great. I think you should treasure it..." Their face was already beet-red. This was a terrible idea, what were they thinking? How did they think he was gonna respond? God, he was probably busy and in the middle of something and you just go up to him and say this kinda crap... "I'm sorry, I... that was kinda weird to say, I know... um... I just thought... well, sorry..." they trailed off, feeling ready to flee. Their eyes shifted left to right and landed onto the two creatures by the man's side.
"Also, um, your pets are really nice too..." they managed to squeak out. They wanted to ask to pet them, but no way. That was too high level.
...Maybe they should get a cat someday, echoed a thought in the back of their head, swimming amongst all their anxieties.
Follow-up:
Koko wasn't expecting the girl to touch them, let alone get a hold of their hair, and they froze briefly at the contact. As their hair was pulled into a ponytail however, Koko slowly untensed. It did feel nice, surprisingly. Koko was surprised that they had enough hair to even make a ponytail, but to be fair, they're not exactly the kind to go out for a regular haircut. Which is why they were quite surprised when the blonde girl suggested that they were taking good care of themselves. That's definitely an overstatement, isn't it? To say a shut-in takes good care of themselves... well, it's true their lifestyle wasn't really that visible to other people, at the very least. It was one of the few traits Koko was relieved to possess. Besides, it didn't quite feel right to destroy the younger one's illusion, so they kept quiet.
The comment about their prettiness gave Koko a blush (they never had any idea what to do about compliments, because they never expected any) but it subsided as their conversation continued. Bullied because she was 'fat'... was she fat? Koko never really thought of people as fat or thin, just people-shaped. But to be bullied for something like that... their heart hurt thinking about the pain the girl must have gone through. It didn't seem right. She was so pretty as well! There was nothing about the way she looked that she should be ashamed of, and yet, because of those bullies...
Koko was a quiet person, but somehow even they knew this wasn't something they should keep quiet on. If they did, they might never forgive themselves. They took a deep breath, formulating the sentences in their head.
"I think..." they started, "that they're... wrong." They chose their words carefully, trying to make sure that what they said wouldn't make her feel worse. "I don't know what is considered 'fat' or not... but, I think it's wrong for them to make you think that you're not pretty. In fact... to be honest... I think you're prettier than me. I-I know you'll probably disagree, but... That's what I really think. Honestly. So please... don't let them tear you down like that. It might be hard, but at least try... okay...?"