What does your OC envy about the OC above?

"So... you have powers, huh?" Sofya mumbled, hoping her companion wasn't annoyed with her. She'd heard the stories about Linette, about how she didn't care so much for her birth species-- sure, she didn't hate them, but someone raised by demons was bound to have some interesting ideas about humanity-- so she was extra nervous about making a decent impression. She drew Muffy closer to her. "And-- And they just come out of your fingers? Like, you don't even have to get it ready? I'm so jealous," she said, then panicked. "No-- I mean-- Not jealous, I just-- Uh... You might know this, but I can bring the dead back to life. Not the same life they had before, but... yeah... But it takes days to prepare, and I wish it didn't. I wish I had necromancy fingertips, or something... Then I'd be able to save more people." Sofya gave a quiet sigh. Everything she'd just said was true, of course, but she was leaving out the other thing she was jealous of.

Sofya thought back to her childhood in the Church of Elsinore. She remembered playing with her brother-- or the boy she thought was her brother-- without a care in the world, not knowing what horrible injustices she'd been put through before she was old enough to spell her name. Linette here was in the same position; to her, the demons who'd taken her away from her mom and dad were her family. Although Sofya loved her new life, and was happier than anything to be making up for the years she and her mother had lost, sometimes she wished she'd never found out her entire childhood was a lie. So many happy memories were now a jumble of "was that real?" and "none of them were what I thought," and she longed for the ignorance Linette had now. But she couldn't tell her this, of course. If Sofya broke the illusion for someone else, she'd hardly be able to live with herself.

Rosie stared at the small adult in front of her stage, her inner workings showing as she pushed herself against the glass.
  "Hello! You have... a very nice bunny! Mine comes out of my hat haha!" Rosie laughed, gritting her teeth slightly. She disliked it when people showed up without children, made her job to entertain harder.
  Tapping the glass to keep Sofya's attention, Rosie popped open her chest compartment to reveal a white, stuffed rabbit. Pulling it out, she motioned towards Sofya's own stuffed animal, 

  "Mine's named Terri, what about yours?"
Rosie despised Sofya's ability to walk freely, despised Sofya's ability to speak with others without a wall of glass. Rosie despised Sofya, even if it wasn't directly her fault.

Often people say that Fahkriyya is known to be arrogant and selfish at first glance, but never seem to talk about how envious they get as well. 

While they travel to a new place to satisfy her desire to learn about new cultures and connect her home tribe to other nations of the World, The Honorable Highness heard words, rumors about a man named Virgil.

They say that he is insanely perceptive, amazingly precise at things, and has the talent of analyzing people and things quite easily.

Oh what talents even a demigoddess wishes to have. To be able to be perceptive of the world she wants to discover more about, to be precise with her weapons and with facts, and to be excelling at analyzing people, cultures, and new ideals learned throughout their travels.

But alas, it seems that Fahkriyya does not have such desired talents. It does seem to be that the Goddess will not bless her with such talents, and with her own capabilities, such talents aren’t to be gained as simply as they hoped it could be gained.

Whoever Virgil is, Fahkriyya is jealous of them, envious of their talents. Wishing that she could one day be like them. Perceptive, precise, and analytic, for the benefit of their traveling and goals.

As they walk through the crowds of people that continue to talk about whoever Virgil is, Fahkriyyas envy only grows even more within their heart, but their expression remains indifferent.

    “Wow! Your immortal! Man I wish I was immortal. I could kill may more zombies if I was un kill able. Your pretty attractive too. I bet you get all the gals and guys.. I’m sorta envying your face. I don’t have one so I can’t show cool facial expressions.” 

caelum was agitated. biting at his nails, messing up his hair, bouncing his leg, something was bothering him. or rather, someone.

their name was fakhriyya. he had heard about her through his peers, their chatter about her varying in warmness about her person. apparently, she was visiting the place to learn more about it and build connections. some said she was arrogant, others said she was straight up rude.. but all could agree that she was a natural born leader, that she was dependable and respectable.

it made him annoyed, maybe a little jealous. maybe a lot. nobody said things like that about him (not that he'd know anyway), but he's not the strongest demon around. he's kind of sensitive, even.

he tries hard to be a good role model, to put up an enviable front, but.. he guessed it just wasn't enough.

"damn you," he huffed out. "why do you get to be so naturally what i try so hard to achieve..?"

sinking in his seat, he started feeling a little down about his perceived failure. he wished he could be like her, but he'd rather die than to go and meet them upfront, and he'd rather die and revive himself just to die again than to open up about this and ask for tips.

(edit: got sniped but leaving this anyway, feel free to skippy)

heehee no skippy ill just reply to both >: 3c

Spencer

Elias stared at this funny creature-- demon, maybe?-- eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar. "You can /shoot lighting/?!" He gasped, somewhere between fear and awe. "That... is incredible! True magic... The things I would do with that..."

--

Caelum

Now... now /this/ was a demon! Quite literally! The thought that he was facing down a demon both made his skin crawl and excited him.

"Quite a lovely home you have," he commented offhandedly. It wasn't too far off from his own, he would say; albeit the décor was certainly not in his style. "I don't suppose you'd take in a roommate~? When the time comes, that is."

He was already hellbound, after all. He just wished he would be living it in this type of luxury.

"I really like that crown of yours. It's so shiny and pretty" Cronan said as he pondered how he could get a similar one.

Haven has heard rumors about some cat in the forest who goes by the name of Cronan. They say that he is a cat that lives in a long abandoned structure near a train track that has been equally abandoned, Haven is now in the woods herself.

She thought about how Cronan must have a lovely place to call home as she wandered in the rumored forest. How nice to live a simple life and in a place one must have grown up in all their life.

It reminded her of her banishment from her own home. Her family disowning her, her Tribe rejecting her as future Queen, and the fact that she had to abandon life in the familiar heat of the Desert for at least a long while.

Envious of one being able to grow up in where they truly call home, it only reminds Haven further of her plan to cause mayhem and chaos in the upcoming future.

     "To be you, I'm quite jealous," Archaeus said with a sorrowful sigh and the shake of his head. "To live a life that's not mine, to not have to deal with the constant love and adoration, and the obsessive need for my attention. To know a life without such chaos and have just one minute to think to myself, to know the pleasures of silence, I truly envy you."
     He thrust his head back, an arm draped over his forehead. "I can't imagine how crushing it would be for you to be in my shoes for even a second! These powers, granted to me by the gods because of my pure heart yet cruel nature-- such a unique combination for a human soul that intrigued the gods to gift me, and only me, great powers-- have made me a beacon of hope and fear among anyone that dares to look in my direction within a 200 mile radius. Just saying my name fills people with dread and joy, and I am constantly swarmed by people wanting my love every minute! It is a curse to be so overwhelmingly powerful. Oh, how I envy you for living a life without such strife...!"

“And I’m told MY ego is big…” Desmond thought, his eye twitching a little as he listened to Archaeus’ tirade about himself. 

“Let me think…” He bit his lip as he thought, his perfect face soon lighting up as he came to a conclusion;  “Honestly, ignorance is bliss! I envy how you can rationalize thinking that everyone loves you. Obviously there’s gonna be some that don’t. Like yours truly over here… not impressed. Now excuse me while I go hatch a plan to bully you. As an..  experiment.” He looked at Archaeus dead in the eyes with a completely blank expression for a few seconds. 

“Just kidding;” Des abruptly added playfully, now smiling and making a heart with his index and thumb; “I wanted to see if you were gonna use your powers to kill me. Or something. Since, yaknow, I’m trash talking you. That’s usually what happens to antagonists like me when it comes to people like you, isn’t it?” He stuffed his hands into his pockets and leaned back; 

“If I had to pick for real, though… Obviously I’m envious of those so-called god-given powers of yours. If I had those, I could kick even more ass, and make people more afraid to mess with me ~ Maybe… you’d spare some? Show me just how you do it?” He smiled, his voice dripping in sarcasm. yes, he would do his best to force Archaeus to demonstrate these “powers” to him, even if they didn’t exist. He was bored after all! and he needed a victim to tease… or, more accurately for this situation, make fun of…

"He..uhm. He.." He trails off at the question, giving a small side glance to Desmond, but avoiding as much eye contact as possible. They were near the same age, give or take, and the idea of having to express what he felt jealous about to someone in that area made him feel completely anxious. What if he looked stupid or what if the other judged him for the things he thought?

At a bare minimum, he could tell that Desmond was attractive. He was like a poster child of punk or grunge, the very thing Dallas himself liked. But compared to Desmond, he looked like a cheap garbage can overflowing with decaying food and forgotten trash. Why, Desmond had a clear completion. He didn't have any pre-aging wrinkles from chronic stress and exhaustion like Dallas was developing. His clothes were neat, it almost looked like they were pressed ironed. Even the piercing taste they shared, Desmond did better by light years. 

"He's cool looking. He has a cool style." A sickening wave of bile runs through his stomach and he feels a coldness crawl down his back. Part of him wants to lash out and attack Desmond due to his own insecurity. The other, a just as equally destructive part, wants to be him..and he finds it difficult to manage the depressive sensation it gives knowing he never will or can. Desmond was a confident, alluring and blessed individual. Dallas was just Dallas.

     "Ohh, I recognize that look in your eyes," Terry grunted, leaned against the wall besides Dallas with his hands in his pockets. "Doubts and insecurity. It's drowning you, isn't it? Keeps you up at night, makes you put crushing pressure on yourself? There's more to it than that, I know, and I can tell with you there's a hell of a lot more." Despite that, he smirked. "It reminds me a lot of myself, is all. How old are you? Twenties? Yeah, that's when I started my job, and let me tell you, I didn't go a day feeling like I did anything right. I wanted to quit, wanted to get something easier, something I knew I couldn't screw up. Just a year into my job and I felt like I was hitting rock bottom."
     Terry glanced away, thinking back to then, how that enthusiasm he'd started with started draining. It always felt like as much as telling someone no felt like he was letting them down, or scarring them for life. It took a toll on him for sure. Thinking back now, though, he couldn't help but chuckle at that mindset. "The good thing about hitting rock bottom is that there's nowhere else to go but up. I don't look it, but I'm in a much better place now. Got things figured out, emotionally and with work. It'll be the same for you." He looked at Dallas. "Hell, it'll be more for you. I can't tell how, but something about you tells me that you're going to go damn well higher than me, probably higher than you ever thought. I'm a little jealous."
     Getting off the wall, Terry took a couple steps closer to Dallas. "Don't mind me, though. I'm just some random guy. You can ignore everything I said, if you hadn't already. Oh, but by the way," He put a hand on his shoulder. "There's a mess on the hallway my hotel room is on. You mind cleaning that up?"

Donna loved speaking to individuals such as Terry. Those who were very much the opposite of her. She eyed him quizzically before offering a reassuring smile, as if testing the waters before she said anything further. "Soo. Teaching hm?" She finally spoke. Donna crossed her legs, shifting sitting positions at a constant rate, clearly intimidated by the man's deadpan expression. "You know, I'm a bit envious of you If I'm completely honest." She exhaled. "Your ability to STICK to a singular job and clear dream is well..? Commendable." She pointed to herself "Me, well, one week I want to be an author and the next I'm starting up a painting career!" Donna chuckled "Please do teach me your ways!"