What does your OC envy about the OC above?

Rochester clicked her tongue against her palate and quickly uttered, "You... You are an interesting little creature now..." The older woman paused to lean forwards and cup her hand against her cheek. "Are you?"

Not that there needed to be a verbose answer in the first place (even if the occasional lingering silence caused Rochester's nerves to prickle ever so slightly). What really mattered to the retired biologist at the moment was that she was... Studying an anomaly. It was always the tiniest bit peculiar when she was able to observed humanoids who happened to be meshed together with animals, but... Centipedes in particular? Now that was different.

She continued to click her tongue against her palate before sniffing, "In a way, miss... I almost wish I was like you. Having to deal with chitin instead of bone...", and neatly folding her hands together. "... There is a reason as to why arthropods are perhaps the most successful group of organisms on the planet... Sure, fitness depends on a variety of factors, but resilience is one of the major ones." Rochester paused and cocked her head in an almost curious fashion.

"You are a resilient one, are you not?" she chirped with a wry smile, as she continued to examine - no, almost admire - the centipede demigod before her. Not that she knew the other was a demigod, of course - nor would it have mattered. As far as Rochester was concerned, she was face-to-face with an individual who was, in a way, half-centipede and half-human. It made her furrow her blows in contemplation as she hummed, "Resilience is... Always something to be admired. Envied, even. I kind of wish I was resilient in a way..." Rochester's voice faltered.

"I mean... In a way... At least being resilient would have... Helped me... Yes?" The elder rubbed her hands on her knees before letting out a sigh and shaking her head. She could barely be heard muttering under her breath, "Not that it fucking matters now, considering my age," before raising her brow slightly at her guest. In hindsight, Rochester supposed that gifting candy wasn't enough to dispel the inherent awkwardness of an old woman revealing her personal issues to a demigod who appeared much younger than her.

Perhaps...

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she piqued in with a sniff, "At least you have a long way to go for you, no?" Rochester chuckled carefully before playfully rolling her eyes. "Youth is funny in that regard, though I also ardently believe that you should cherish it." She attempted to not focus too much on the other party by this point - partially because it was unsettling her personally, partially because her eyes kept going back to the scalpel in the end- Rochester restrained a shudder. "By the way, do you want me to give you a fruit tart later on? It might offset the sugar present in all that candy, really, and it makes for a better conversation piece."

I'll try my best to do a follow-up for NP if I have the time...

It had been a while since Nerine last visited these two old ladies. Granted, she had a lot on her plate. Between her visits with certain other women, potentially much less platonic than her relationship with the scientist and her wife, the little gremlin she stole, and her work around Haratel, she was busy, and she could hardly even think to bother. It just slipped her mind.

But, as she took a piece of the fruit tart from the table before her, it came to mind that perhaps those were not the only reasons she was away for so long, and maybe even not the driving reasons. Who knows. She was busy, after all.

It was the subtle signs of love. Possibly. She knew something about them was uncomfortably familiar about them, but now that she thought about it, she couldn't help but wonder. Her lover -- her wife? -- died young and afraid. What if she hadn't? What if she survived, unafflicted, and survived to now? Would she be any happier? Would Nerine still be in Sauveterre? Would they ever become more open, or would they finally flee together?

Would they have grown old together?

Nerine hadn't felt the same since then. She tried to connect with other women, but could not bring herself to commit. Was she going to die alone? Afraid, like Odette died?

Nearly twenty years had passed, and Nerine still missed her.

For now, she just scoffed as she bit into the tart, and then finished off that chunk of it. "I've never really been that fond of desserts like this." she admitted to Rochester, pressing her back against the chair she sat in, "It's fine, though. At least it has something good for me, no matter how sugary it is. You and your lady best watch out. I might steal the rest of your fruit, just for the variety."

Rolland looked alittle intimidated by nerine. But he tried his best not to show that fact. " wow! Your really... serious. " the jolly man chuckled alittle " ya know, people consider me over optimistic and way to happy for my own good. Its been that way since high-school. Its just really hard for me to stay serious. I envy your ability to stay serious, its a respectful and dignified trait. " he leaned against a counter tapping his fingers on it " ya know, I could probably learn a thing or two from you. " he commented " thanks for uh... letting me ramble on. Have a great day! " he said has he closed up the restraunt and left to his car

"Hey-- it's you again." Apple swiftly approached Rolland, cupping her hands together. It's been a while since they last talked on that bus, huh?

Rollands's smile made Apple smile a bit. He seemed happy to see her again. Apple felt quite annoyed.

"Hey, umm..." She stammered, not knowing how to word what was coming out of her mouth. "Why does your life seem so... Great? You have a stable job... Stable family... Stable childhood..." She couldn't help but grow a bit jealous of her new acquaintance. He had everything that she wanted.

"Do you wanna.... Take a bus again somewhere and get some ice cream, perhaps? M-Maybe we can talk about you more." Apple was now looking at the ground in shame. She couldn't believe she had just accidently vented to someone she barely knew.

At least they would be discussing it later in private instead of in public.

Noboru had to speed up his pace to stay at Apple’s side. It was hard keeping up. The marketplace was crowded that day and the younger bard had to dodge and squeeze himself in between all different kinds of market goers and thieves to keep his (somewhat forced) conversation with Apple going.
“So, books,” Noboru said. As he skillfully dodged merchants. “I like books,” he said.
“We didn’t have many books at home,” he continued. “But you proclaim to be a ‘bookworm’ right? You read them by the thousands,” he said. Then paused. “Or at least, you read some.”
Noboru adjusted his shoulder bag. Then moved his just purchased goods between his hands.
“It doesn’t matter how many you’ve read,” he said. “I envy you for considering yourself one.”
Noboru forced a smile on his face.

“Are you a writer as well?” he wondered out loud. “The skill of putting words onto paper is an underappreciated one if you ask me,” Noboru added. “My mentor was a storyteller, not really a singer or dancer,” the bard explained.
“I think you two could have been friends!” Noboru’s ears pricked high as he smiled at Apple. “At least Kei was less talkative than me.”

--

OCH THESE TWO 😭♥

Charadonis watched in awe as Noboru played his instrument, singing along to some silly drinking song and looking as cheerful as ever. The golem did his best to at the very least clap along, getting mildly frustrated as he failed to keep up as he had absolutely no sense of rythm. As he slowly stopped he noticed Noboru giving him a sympathetic look.

“I just don’t understand sir...I was a gift from the gods and they couldn’t even give me the basic ability to keep up a tempo?” Charadonis wasn’t the best at expressing emotions but for once he was clearly upset. “You are the life of the party as they would say while I might as well be a part of the scenery!” He frowned and crossed his arms, the water genasi fishing something from his bag. A tamborine! It was nearly impossible to screw up playing one of those! ...right?

 Noboru handed it over, playing another upbeat noisy song waiting for Charadonis to get the hint. As the large stone man did his best to shake it to the beat he even seemed to get upset with that. “I can’t even play a simple noisemaker?!” He sobbed, throwing the tamborine with all his might, as Noboru practically dove out of the way.

“You…You….YOU ARE ART ITSELF!”

Yeah was the bastard man not kidding this time. He is being genuine.

One look at Charadonis and he knew the being was art itself, a gift from the gods (Archons?) above turned into a living independent being. Art itself, beauty within one being.

Damon may be an “artist” , a person who “creates art”, but did he ever so longs to “become art” himself. Maybe have a legacy as “being art”? Who knows what goes in the mind of that man. 

And he is so jealous that he got to meet a being who is art itself

“Oh please, oh please, OH PLEASE! Tell me what it is like being art, being art itself that humanity calls it! Oh arent you beautiful! You don’t need to be turned into art, you ARE art itself! Oh please tell me, I want to know what it is like!” The bastard himself enthusiastically asked Charadonis, his eyes sparkling and his voice becoming more high pitched with every word.

Borderline screeching some may say, hopefully Charadonis can deal with Damon, for the bastard will never leave something or someone alone for hours on end once they gain his interest, even if he is jealous of them.

Nana had come to this bookstore for books her granddaughter had asked for when she spotted Deucallion. He looked like a good kid, there was nothing wrong with him, it was just a little bit surprising to see what looked like a high school jock in the non-fiction section of a book store. Not one to be afraid of striking up conversation with strangers, the little old lady shuffled towards the mountain lion without a second thought, speaking up as she drew near. "It does my heart good, seeing kids like you taking the time to keep themselves well-rounded. Not everyone takes the time to take care of both mind and body, heh? Heheh." She wasn't really expecting much of a response from a stranger she'd just walked up to, if the primarily one-sided conversation was anything to go by, but she did still pause to give him time to respond if he wanted to before sweeping on. "I do pride myself on exercising well into my old age, young man," at the expense of other people, but that wasn't the point right now, "but it'd be a lie to say I wasn't a smidgen jealous of your fondness for reading, too." And the visible muscles. Not that she couldn't illusion them on herself in this form, but her real shape was still spindly and spidery, despite its strength. 'Buff motorcyclist grandmother' was an aesthetic that would always be out of her reach in some aspect, unfortunately for her. 

She chuckled at nothing in particular before adding, "Don't quit on either of your obvious hobbies, Mr. Both'll serve you well, well into your sunset years. You take care of yourself." That last bit was a challenge for her, sometimes. Not because she didn't care, because she certainly put in the time to keep herself physically strong and street smart, but chasing down villains or heroes that were just as dangerous as you wasn't really a healthy habit. There was always the risk that she would suddenly stop taking care of herself by virtue of keeling over to someone else's hand, not that she hadn't done a grand job of avoiding that for many decades now. The little old lady grinned up at the puma, patting him on the arm encouragingly. "Proud of you, boy. Proud of you. Keep up the good work."

kara walked into the library, admiring all the amazing books, and granny gilda almost as much. they appreciated how the old skeleton held her weight; she wasn't much to look at, but one could practically feel the strength radiating from her creaky old bones. gilda's hair and clothes were perfectly done as well; not a speck was out of place. they wished they could be as organized as gilda. kara's oversized sweatshirt and rolled-up pants felt incredibly out of place in this proper and majestic library. even their way of speaking was too casual in comparison to gilda's. they could only dream to be as confident as the skeleton.

additionally the way everyone acted around gilda left something in kara's social life to be desired. although other people whispered about her, they held gilda in a manner of respect and acknowledged how important her position in the library was. kara wished they could be as respected and considered as important by strangers.

"it must be so amazing, having such an important job and being so respected..." kara sighed to no one in particular.

yet gilda was right beside them and placed her bony hand on kara's wing. "not as amazing as you think. there are so many expectations put on me that it's difficult to take some time to relax and be myself." the skeleton let out a long sigh and there was what seemed to be a twinkle in her eye socket. "but don't tell anyone i said that! here's a book for you; i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed talking to you!"

wondering how well i wrote gilda... please tell me i didn't wreck her character shjdfhjksdf

“Oh. I never really had time to be creative when I was younger,” Nathaniel said. His thumb traced the winch of his hurdy-gurdy. A cloth, soaked with linseed oil, rested in his other hand. The harpooner was busy cleaning the instrument. From top to bottom.
Nathaniel looked up at Kara with a raised brow. “You’re a creative spirit are you not? Writing, singing,” Nathaniel said. Then he huffed. “Yeah, I never had time for such luxuries,” he added.
Nathaniel’s gaze fell back onto his instrument. His fingers tested some of the keys.
 
“Sure you can learn an old seadog a few tricks or two,” he said laughing. “But I lost my spirit. That little sparkle in my eye,” he explained. Nathaniel lowered the cloth. He leaned towards Kara with a smile.
“Oh, how I envy your optimistic frame of mind,” Nathaniel said. Before leaning backwards in his chair, crossing his leg over the other and lifting his old instrument higher into his lap.
“I used to have that as well,” he lied. “Back when I still believed this world could be saved.” 

--

“You know exactly what you want and you get it. No…tip toeing around it, no hesitation, no remorse!” Maw hissed, slamming his fists down on the shabby tavern table. He looked annoyed, although presumably just with himself. “At the very least you get respect. Derived from intimidation yet but nonetheless it’s respect. …or at the very least the trust of others.”

He rested his chin in his hand, staring outside for a second. He stuck out like a clown fish in a sea of sharks, the various sailors and and dock workers giving him odd looks as they went to go greet Nathaniel. He was horribly out of place especially hanging around the infamous smuggler. 

Maw’s eyes seemed to light up as he realized the exact word he was trying to dig up out of his cluttered mind. “CHARISMA!” He exclaimed, leaning uncomfortably close to Nathaniel. “THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT IT IS! THAT’S WHAT YOU HAVE THAT I NEED.”

It went quiet. Maw catching his breath for a second as he very quietly sat back down. “I could’ve totally played that off with your confidence yknow….”

"You've seen your deity before?"

Somehow, the topic had come up (likely because that's the only thing about Maw and most other people that Locket actually cared about), and now Locket was not going to leave poor Maw alone until they got enough information to satisfy their Tabaxian curiosity and obsession. Their dilated pupils and swishing tail showed just how exicited they were to hear this. "I've never seen a deity before… Not even the one I was blessed by. I'm almost jealous!" they squealed.

They're not almost jealous. They are jealous. 

"I hope I get to see one, one day, as well. Tezca or otherwise. I think I would be quite able to die happily." Locket gently nudged Candlewick, who was wrapped around their neck and staring up at Maw (or, at least, his "hair"). After, their pupils dilated even more as they continued, "But that's enough about me. Tell me everything about her. Please, please, please? With a berry on top? I could tell you everything about Tezca in return, or perhaps even pay you somehow?" They made a small trill from their excitement, before saying, "My apologies, I am just... So excited to know! I love, love, love studying deities!"

Sucks to be you, Maw, having to tell everything about your deity to a spoiled brat.