What does your OC envy about the OC above?

Roswell pressed his tongue against his palate. To give shape to his otherwise hanging jaw. Blood had soaked his shoes. Sticked to his fingers.
"Well yer sure knows how to make a scene," he told Locket. Before giving the Tabaxi a reserved smile. "With yer killin' n stuff."

The unfortunate sacrifice was a man Roswell had stalked for months. Not to kill, of course. But to rob. Nevertheless, he was too late.
Locket got him first.
The scene almost looked like a ritual. One, so dark that it even raised the hairs on the witchthief's neck. He knelt down before the unlucky guy and tapped their cheek. Almost cheerfully, checking if he was still breathing. The corpse was not. Roswell peaked over his shoulders and looked the warlock in the eyes.
"Oi've never killed before," he told them. "Nor planin' on ever doin' so," he said. "But oi always 'ave some…Envy of those who can," he added. Roswell got up. Then brushed the blood off his fingers and onto his own traveling coat.

"Oi loike to play de long game. Figure out we're dey life, learnin' about which maid to bribe. Which key to steal. But that process is long and sometimes fruitless. Time is money," Roswell said. While patting his coin bag on his belt. " 'nd a wasted a lot of good copper on dis lad. Just to find his exotic furs," he pointed at the furs draped over the man's neck. "Soiled with maroon. Yer don't get blood out of fur, did yer know." Roswell eyed the catperson's hair for a brief second. Then shook his head. He had more important things to worry about.
The citywatch will find this man soon, his house would be swarmed with Hoeders. Valuable goods will disappear into their hands, the corrupt maid will tell that she'd accepted money from a stranger, and now Roswell had to figure out how to keep his own head out of the noose.

"Oi could 'ave tossed Al dat money oi spend on him, and more in a well for all de universe care." He huffed. "Yer spoiled the crop oi so carefully sowed months ago." Roswell rubbed his neck.
"How unfortunate."

--

Coco looked at the thief that she tracked down over a week. She was envious of his insanely good stealing skills. But they were no match for her deduction skills that had been passed down so many generations. She was also a bit impressed by his moustache. In any case, Coco knew Roswell must be stopped at all costs, as his void manipulation skills were an existential threat to the solar system.

Clement had heard of coco, tho he didn't believe her background at first, "descendant of Sherlock Holmes?? I'll believe it when I see it." In reality tho, he was quite envious of this prestigious lineage, as no one in his family, especially his dad, did anything noteworthy unlike Coco's family

Basil wasn‘t insane about height or anything. He was comfortable with the 5’10 he stood at. But looking at Darco caused him to envy him somewhat. A couple inches wouldn’t hurt. At the same time, however, it wasn’t that serious and it wouldn’t ever be that serious. Height was height. Until it came to standing near a taller person, apparently. He didn’t have much to say to Darco, though. He wasn’t one for much talking unless it really came down to it. Instead, he gave a casual smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

"Life isn't a cakewalk for you, by any means, but for you to be able to learn and know things at the rate that you are able.. who wouldn't envy that, even just a little? And to not feel pain at all? That too intrigues me." 

"Huh, what I'd be jealous of? I don't know, I'm pretty happy with my lot in life, but if I had to pick..." Amelie paused for a moment to think, before settling her hands on her hips with a huff. "I guess I'd have to say your opportunities with education and travel. I mean, think about it; we both come from pretty similar circumstances, and you get to live the dream of traveling around to take this journey of yours? I can't help but be at least a little bit jealous." 

Her pout quickly softens into a smile as she shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly. "Again, only a little bit. After all, just because you dream it, doesn't always necessarily mean it's what you need, right? So I can't be bitter about it in the long run!"

Weevil Midge had always been fond of kings and rulers, for they often had such interesting histories, and brought upon more intriguing events. But a king blast into the future-what a story to tell! Weevil knew that logically he should open blank journal and get to asking the man questions, and writing down the events of King Deizo’s adventures, but he paused for a moment, reflecting. He couldn’t help but be.. envious. The man reminded Weevil of his ancestors, of great brave warriors not afraid to take as they see fit. How he wished he could live up to their legends, but here he is, sitting idly and documenting a king far greater than he’d ever be. 

In an attempt to hide his clearly wistful demeanor, Weevil did an odd sort of side smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re rather well dressed I must say, you must tell me where you acquire such fine satin robes!”

Prudence had found Weevil reading in the patchwork meadow grass, blanketed in sun - and it was from that moment that envy burned deep in her chest. Oh, how she wished to feel the sun on her skin once more, to feel the way her clothes soaked themselves in its rays. She longs to feel warmth - a kind, loving warmth, not the wrathful kind that spurs from the flames trickling between her fingers. Quietly, Prudence settles close to Weevil, watching him; at first, only to peek over his shoulder and read, as the book had taken her interest more than the prospect of a conversation between them. But eventually, the envy that wormed inside her couldn't remain unsaid, and she spits it out.

"I wish I were alive like you, Goodman Midge," she mumbles in as calm of a tone she can muster. She sounds like the people from her village, she thinks, calling Mr. Midge by such a formal title; apparently, that terminology wasn't a thing anymore -- and she envies that, too, that she can't keep up with the world developing without her. She envies everything that lives and breathes, because all she can do is watch. "If I were alive, then I could feel the sun on my face. I could... I could read books like you do, turning the pages and smudging the ink with my fingers."

She sighs, then curls up in the empty space next to Weevil. Grass fades right through her bare feet. Her dress mimics the breeze, ghosting along dandelions and muscari. "I know it's wrong to be envious, but I am. I really, really am." 

(Oh boy this is long. Next Poster, any length is fine.)

Darling seemed to have fallen onto a patch of a world which once contained a village old, she seemed to have gotten lost from the others, maybe there was someone here who could help her?

Darling walked around the skeleton of a settlement, unaware of where she was stepping, and exactly where she was going, until... fire. Fire appeared all around her, it started to burn up her boney feet and arms and face, she backed away quickly. Looking down at where she had stepped, she saw a small little poppet. 

Far more curious then frightened, feeling no pain from the surprise experience, Darling bent down to the poppet, the fire didn't seem to have burnt her, and even so, it would not hurt her, she weaved out her scarf to pick it up - "DO NOT COME ANY CLOSER, CREATURE!" Darling stumbled back again, a blaze shot out around her, far more strong then the one before, she could feel its warmth go between her skull and teeth, as she fell back and away from flame. "Sorry, I'm sorry!!! Who's there? I was just wondering -" Darling could see a small blackened figure standing about the poppet, its hair frizzled and messy, it's skin flaky and chalky, it's dress ripped and burnt. "-I-if I know, You know, I mean... If you know where, we, are?" The figure's face looked up at Darling, it was a little girl, her eyes blank, white as cloud, cloudy as smoke.

Prudence stared at the strange creature, it also seemed to also be some sort of spirit, but one that was not stuck, one that could walk and move, interact with the world, and apparently, just as easily interact with her. She snapped back "You, spirit, whatever you are, are in my old village, the one that I came to as a young child..." While saying these words, she looked around her, Darling could see recognition, even in those blank eyes, as Prudence looked at what was left of this village, her eyes wandered as her speech trailed off, remembering something, of her past that was clearly still there seared into her mind. The little girl stopped for a moment, not looking at anything particular, but quickly turned to Darling, anger in her stance, "Leave, demon." As with a wisp, she returned back into her poppet.

Darling, still fallen, stared at the little doll, her emotions were that of a mix of surprise, fear, and... and something else. She felt angry at the little girl, but not because she had shouted at her, saying that she was a demon, Darling felt angry about something else, and it wasn't even anger either. She stood up, and backed away from the poppet, clearly this wasn't the way to go. Darling trailed around the grown-over path and homes that once seemed to have placed in this area, their shape in the ground still tangible, one could look at it and understand that this once was a place full of some form of life. 

Darling was not envious of the little girls issue, she was clearly stuck, and Darling had a feeling that she had a long time before she could become unstuck. But Prudence had one thing that Darling would of given anything to have - memories.

Darling saw the pain and fear in the girls eyes as she recalled her memories of the area, But she knew that those memories must of caused pain, but at least the spirit had something, something to grasp onto that was her and truly her, something she was a part of no matter how bad, and those memories must of been with a number of many still left in the little girls mind, all of different emotions of her past, of her living life. 

Darling had none of that, she was trying to figure out who she was, trying to create artificial memories of what her life was before, when she was alive, when she had muscles and skin and eyes and hair, if she even had those at all. But those were things that she could replicate, one cannot replace their memories as easily.

Darling wished that she still had her memories, as, surely, Prudence still had some good ones, right?

"To be honest, i really like the way you used your scarf as your arms unlike me, Us cookies literally just stayed the same without any signs of body modification... But don't be a little debby downer, fellas~ i'm just jealous of you."

     "A vigilante!" breathed Ennette, hands on her cheeks and stars in her wide, wide eyes. "My goodness! Taking things into your own hands, playing by your own rules! How brave! I could never do something like that. With my role, something like that would be far too scandalous, and I'd lose my people's trust, whether my actions helped them or not. I commend you, though, because I know it must still be a difficult job, and I must say, I'm a little jealous, too. There's a freedom to that, and you handle it all so nonchalantly! I wish I could be as collected as you."

Mesmerized, Linette followed the sound of a woman singing. A situation which, potentially, could get her eaten by a wicked mythical creature. But luckily, what she found was Ennette. Linette listened, a wide-eyed look of wonder on her face. Not only captivated by Ennettes voice, but her noble beauty as well. But once she was spotted by the princess, she put on her usual charismatically cocky smirk and got a little closer, hoping she'd be able to spark a up a conversation.
"Sorry for just standing and staring, but your singing is really beautiful! You really had me in a trance there." she said and put her hands in her pockets, trying to look all cool. "Man, I wish my voice was that nice. Then people wouldn't complain when I sing my favourite tune." She laughed, but that laugh turned awkward and a little saddened when she remembered how "creative" her peers could be when it comes to insults.