"Ha! Now would ya lookit that," Taka barked with laughter while approaching Grendel. It was rare to find someone taller than him, and even more so for said taller being to be in an intimidating set of armor. For the mob boss, however, he only grinned, more enthralled than cautious. As if to prove it, he lightly racked his knuckles against the hunter's face.
"No shit," breathed the mobster before laughing and clapping his hands. "You got one of them--" He snapped to try to remember. "--magic 8 balls for a face! I used ta love the shit outta those when I was a kid, always tried gettin' my fortune read'n shit. What a blast from the past. Don't really get what it has ta do with the getup, though," he said while gesturing the armor. "The hell ya wearin' all that for, anyway?"
Taka paused. Even though Grendel didn't have a face to read, he could tell when someone was itching for a fight. His grin turned shark-like. "Wanna throw down, Sunshine? Well fine." He slammed his fist against the palm of his hand, then cracked his knuckles. "I ain't holdin' back."
Even with this fight, he was having the time of his life. Whoever Grendel was, he sure as hell would want to know more about xym after this.
This might be a bit far-fetched for a game idea, but, here's how it works: Go through the above user's ocs and pick a character that one of your characters would be interested in, and as your character, say why they're interested in the above user's character. Remember, it can be any character from the above user's gallery, not just the one that they're posting with.
Character A: I like [one of User Z's OCs] because I think we would get along very well.
Character B: I would like to meet [one of User A's OCs] because I think they'd make a good sparring partner.
Character C: I feel like [one of User B's characters] would make a good employee for my company.
These are just examples. Reasons a character may be interested in another can be varied, but try not to get to rude, even if it's in character. Also, try not to get too NSFW, since I plan on keeping this forum open to the general public. Hope you enjoy!
[Please tell me this thread posts OOC]
"English Breakfast tea, please!" Quince chirped as she gave the barista a few pounds. Had she snuck out and used the rest on her money on bribing Dmitri not to tell Commander where she went? Well... Yeah. But that was because she didn't get to leave a lot, and she really, really needed to get away. If she could stay away from the war forever, she could, but... That wasn't really an option, now, was it? She had to fight until it was over, and then she could go back to school and everything would be fine! Hopefully!
Shaking her head to herself, she watched Ace with a slight smile as he prepared her drink. Of course, when he returned, she chirped, "Thank you so much!" before pulling out a special, acid-resistant teacup from one of her pockets. She poured the tea into it with a small hum, hoping that it didn't seem too strange. She took a small sip of her tea, then murmured, "You know... You seem pretty nice! Though I guess you're getting paid for it, right?"
She paused as her eyes wandered to a couple in the corner of the bar. She sighed for a moment, then spoke her , "I wish my datefriend got the chance to be here with me, but... I'm not gonna get a chance to see it ever again, probably. Or maybe... I could've taken Fiona! We aren't dating, but... Maybe..." She made a small, wistful sigh as she trailed off and took another sip of tea. "Sorry. Thanks for listening, though..."
Anybody here is cool!
Day by day, Beatrice grew increasingly convinced that her wife was a bit of an eccentric, if only because she thought that the older woman's propensity to get the weirdest sort of associates had faded by the time she retired.
Oh, how wrong the journalist was in that regard. And she hated that... Mostly.
As it turned out, the middle-aged, mustachioed fellow in front of her seemed to be classified as "not that bad" in her mind, as she bothered to set down the usual cup of Rochester's sweetened tea without offering him a wary glance as the first course to their interaction. Nice.
She did, however, clear her throat before grunting to him, "I hope you're aware that I can't stay long, as much as I enjoy your company and such." Her words lingered, as the journalist idled with her still-full cup. "I'm a busy woman, and... I hope that's the case for you too. Though, admittedly, it's more so concerning for myself given that I'm supposed to be retired at this point. I'm just a few years behind my wife, which could matter, but I doubt it really does. A few years when you're in your sixties might as well feel like nothing. I almost can't remember what I did when I was in my forties, but in the sixties? That's a breeze."
Finally, Beatrice took a sip, then asked, "That asides, though, I'm assuming that you're not just here for the fruit tarts that my wife made, or the tea that she also made?" Her gaze narrowed slightly, but it was typical of her. Nothing to be concerned about... Really! Nudging the ribbon on her hat to keep it nice and perky, Beatrice glanced over her shoulder to determine if anyone - whether it be her wife, a certain funny little blue sea slug, or someone else entirely - was eavesdropping upon them, before letting out a careful sigh that she had probably been holding in for a bit too long.
"If I'm reading you correctly, you're here because you want to bring up something concerning my wife," she sniffed, then immediately regretted uttering afterwards. Seriously? The first rule of a journalist was to never make one's true intentions clear, and she just foiled herself. Horribly. In an attempt to recover, Beatrice added with her usual drawl, "Maybe it's about the tea and tarts, but maybe it's about something else. Like the type of company that she garners..."
This was supposed to be a friendly conversation?
And it was, with Beatrice trying not to sound like an asshole as she continued to speak. How successful that was in the end, however, was probably a bit moot.
She let a hushed, albeit tense, chuckle escape from her as she sniffed, "I could ramble about that, but I don't think that'd be the wisest decision for either of us. I get that feeling that, some day, her choice in acquaintances is going to come back and bite her." Speaking of biting... Beatrice chewed on her lip while carefully lifting the cup to her lips once more - though she didn't take a sip (at least not yet). "There's this one biologist that she really likes, for example... I don't know why, but I get the most visceral feeling of unease when I see him about, especially with her and Spot. That's probably because he works for the government, though. People under that umbrella are never to be trusted, from my experience."
Well then.
two trucks, holding hands. two trucks, holding hands. two tr-
jokes aside..... kaido..... I want to jam these two into my retinas. thank you for the brain food. Brown is nice for once?? but still a bit of a dick sadly (it's just how she is /lh) in this monster of a follow-up. enjoy my brain rot for the low price of free.
In spite of the smoke permeating its way through the bar, through their lungs, Brown didn't seem to be faze at all. If anything, the opposite seemed to be true, as she spent much of her time preening herself and daintily adjusting the little down feathers surrounding her frill in an almost exaggerated manner. She wasn't exactly looking to impress at the moment, not even when her misandry wasn't through the roof as per usual - but, damn, if that was a goal of hers, then she might as well be achieving it anyhow-
Wait, her misandry wasn't that high? The fuck?
Admittedly, the reason was a bit simple this time around, as her eyes settled on her companion, a friend of hers. It was also shocking that she actually had a male friend with her at the moment, not one of her lovers or her latest escapade for the night. She had no such feelings for him anyhow. She wasn't thaaaaaat stupid.
Maybe.
Brown did, however, entertain such thoughts as she chuckled under her breath and took a sip of the diluted absinthe she had ordered earlier. They were just funny to her, so it wasn't like she was being a hypocrite; if she were, perhaps, younger and a bit less in control of herself, maybe they wouldn't be so trivial. Maybe she'd consider it. She couldn't ignore that. Those times where her friend had dressed himself in a kilt had caused her to raise a brow, but not because she found him hideous or otherwise unappealing. That made her sniff, too, in subtle appreciation before she allowed her eyes to drift back to the rest of the bar and the chaos that was currently unfolding it. How they were unaffected by all this rabble was admittedly a miracle - but, damn it, she didn't exactly care if she was going to spend the night punching the living daylight out of some lowlifes or just lounging around with a friend of hers.
She had her fingers lifted as if considering the idea of going back to preening herself, when Roderick finally spoke.
His voice, admittedly, was difficult to discern from the rest of the chatter in the bar- Oh, and the yelling. Brown had to physically turn her head to get a proper idea of what he was saying, though even that didn't really help. A muffled cry of surprise from a freshly knocked-over patron rang fresh in her ears as she batted her lashes at him innocently and took in his words.
The middle-aged aristocrat could say, at the very least, that she wasn't too surprised by the results she received.
"Hm?" she nonetheless uttered in reply, feigning cluelessness with that playful intonation of hers. Her amusement, nonetheless, was betrayed with the slightest twitch of her lip as she jested, "You know, you could always call me that in public if you wanted to. Do not be such a damn coward." Brown nudged her elbow in his direction but didn't actually have her sleeve brush against his. "It is not like anybody will know about that particular exchange. There is so much bullshit going around in the bar anyhow. A man calling a woman a particular nickname won't mean shit. Do it. I dare you." Please don't?
Alas, as much as Brown wanted to linger on the subject (for the sole sake of getting under Roderick's skin), she dipped her head and allowed him to continue with the conversation. It didn't bother her too much anyhow. While her amusement was more subdued now, she still tittered into her knuckles while coyly lifting up her glass when he mentioned that she was a trooper.
Her voice still a bit of a trill, the aristocrat hummed, "I could say the same about yourself, really. I don;'t get a lot of men who can tolerate me for that long in that department. They either scorn me or wish to be more intimate with me." Maybe because you make it that way, old woman. "There is rarely an in-between, and I suppose I am content with it. Especially when you're involved." She nudged an elbow in his direction once more, though the aristocrat did mean what she was saying. Genuinely!
Amusement lingered in her inflection while she chirruped, "And, trust me, it's not too late. I would be more concerned if you said that right after we started tormenting that cat man...", then paused for a split moment. Oh? "Not that I would have minded it, really," added Brown with a purr, "Though that would make you less remarkable among the other men I have had the misfortune to deal with." Oh.
"Oh, trust me," Brown acknowledged with a wave of her hand, "The men around here all tend to be law-abiding pussies, or real sticklers to whatever morality they choose to make up for the day. 'Here' as in, well, Unova." She chuckled and added, "I will admit that the men I have encountered tend to be of varying breeds and qualities. It has opened my eyes a bit, though I still have my preferences even then." Yea, of course you do. "You just happen to be one of the better ones, and I do appreciate that a lot. Even if my voice seems to suggest otherwise at times."
Was she referring to that slight lilt at the end of her statement, or...
"It's fine," she grunted in what seemed like dismissal, but there was also that undeniable fact that this was just getting a biiiiiit too sentimental for what she was used to. The last time she had gotten emotionally close with someone, it got awkward at certain bits, so she expected no different for this time around. That wasn't to say, however, that she dreaded or hoped for it; the reality was more of an awkward limbo as tension started to be exhibited through her features. "I get it."
Mostly because she was starting to become increasingly aware of how flustered the Scotsman was starting to be, but she made no comment about that. It amused her anyways, and Brown was still enough of a prick to keep it to herself for her own sake.
That was for the best, at least when it came to remaining silent about whatever snarky comment she might've thrown his way... Even if it was entirely playful, affectionate even.
The lack of venom in her voice, so commonly used to deter men of all specimens, was what caused to initially falter when Roderick mentioned her fossils... And wanting to see them? Since when the hell was the last time that someone expressed interest in what she had done when she wasn't busy causing chaos or sullying her name by simply not dying, let alone that person in particular being a man?
Well, it wasn't as unique as she initially thought it was, but... Still...
A sense of girlish shyness, one atypical of her usual swagger and physique, started to creep into her as she replied, "I mean, if you want...", with the slightest nod. "I would hate to waste your time anyhow. I know I have seemingly every second at my disposal, but I know that is not the case with you. You being the deputy and such..." her words were careful, maybe overly so. In an attempt to compensate, Brown chirped, "But if you want to take some time off of that shit, then you can. I have a lot anyhow. You can spend hours just going through my collection, though you obviously can't touch any of them-" She cut herself off, an alternate option starting to form at the back of her head.
"The book would be fine," she sniffed, her tone indeterminate at this point. Still, at least it was a relief that she wasn't disappointed by the offer. Hell, Brown did appreciate it! The execution was just so shockingly clunky and awkward that even she, with her empathy as low as a nautical trench, was taken a bit aback. "I can take it... Though I must ask beforehand, Roderick... What the hell is it going to be about?"
That could've been worse, to be fair. The mirth sneaking its way back into her voice suggested that anyhow.
HELP ME IM GONNA FUCKING DIE I WANT TO EAT THESE TWO FOR BREAKFAST THE REPSONSE WAS SO FUCKING EUCTE WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH RUSTY IM GOING TO FUCKING SHANK YOU /pos /lh
As the two lounged together at the bar, the toxic fetor of smoke maliciously cascade within the frigid air, the laid-back ambience incensed through the campus of the bar. As the petite, naughty woman and the brooding Scotsman sat together, casually going on with their day as they drank and smoked together. It was a treat for the two, a break from all the chaotic shit-shows that they'd evoke together, a guffaw of mock directed at those that seemed to be baffled by their "mischief"... At this point, it was more than just simple mischief. Who knew that tormenting the fuck out of poor people could be so amusing? Atleast, that was their own source of fun, how the two would connect with each other as the two enjoy that fiery, bursting taste of havoc. It was extremely amusing for the two, and they didn't seem to dwell in their minds so much whether they were mindful of others and such. It was the lack of morals and sense of respect that just made things twice as entertaining, really.. Well, the two had already lacked a sense of morals, perhaps that statement had applied much more to Brown.. for obvious reasons, that is. Nothing but the silence of tranquility dribbled through the Scottish mafioso's aura, his dingy olive eyes drooping in relaxation.. His subconscious irked scowl seemed to be at ease, an easygoing gaze as he caught himself floating adrift from reality. That ugly weight of dismay had been lifted off from Roderick's shoulders, genuinely contented by the presence of Brown as she lounges about with him. The tips of his lips subtly curled up, despite them remaining straightened, vacantly having his eyes fixated at the wall in deep reflection of their friendship. As he swam into his thoughts as he reflected their moments together, a small beam of vibrant amber had sparked into his olive eyes. Despite it being such a small, subdued attribute to his overall aura, that sweet warmth radiated through it all in spite of his frigid facade.
Brown was surely one of the people that he began to grow for an affinity for, as time passed by. His trust for her only had began to pique itself a bit as he spent more time conversing with her and such, aside from their dumb little shenanigans. It was that instance of a sturdy, nice bond between the two.. It certainly was baffling how the two truly connected. Nonetheless, Roderick grew to appreciate it all.. despite the other major details of her life being entirely absent in his grasp.
Finally diving up to the surface of reality, Roderick pulled his ignited cigarette from his jaws, puffing off that disgusting, piney smoke. He kept the cigarette clasped by the both of his fingers, gently huffing as he began to illustrate the brief reflection in his own words. `` Ye know, vo- `` As the thought of surrounding bar-goers flickered into his head, he shook off that forbidden name.. For the sake of other's respect. A bad idea to exchange that alias in public, perhaps. `` I mean- Brown, `` The Scotsman finally paused, his medium-toned raspy voice casually mellowed. He blinked, finally beginning to tag along with his own speech, `` I know it's pretty late for me to say this, but yer quite the trooper. A wicked trooper, that is. `` He fondly adds, placing the cigarette back onto his mouth as he inhales the putrid, earthy smoke. As his jaws clutch the aflame cigarette, he partially draws his dingy olive eyes over to the woman. He stops in his tracks with his own tongue, blinking as the tips of his lips curled up perspicuously, a subdued smile inflating into his countenance.
As he begins to speak, he gingerly clutches the frigid beer glass, `` It's nice havin' ye around, it's not really often that I get to eh.. have someone like ye around.. `` The Scotsman briefly pauses, slipping the cigarette out of his jaws as he goes in and swigs the ale once. Once he finishes, he settles the glass down and snaps the cigarette back into his jaws. He blinks, his shoulders lowered down in ease as he proceeds to speak. `` Or as my pal, really. `` He releases a faint puff from his nostrils, pausing briefly. `` It's pretty fun to torment the fuck outta others with ye, and ye know yer business very well. I appreciate that. `` He fondly speaks once more, disconnecting his dingy eyes away from the woman's. With a jerk of apprehension hindering him, he awkwardly kneads the back of his neck, cocking his head sheepishly. `` Hope that's not, uh- weird of me to say. I just..- that yer awesome and all. Fun to be around and all that good shit, aye? Not the best with articulatin' it, but I'm sure ye catch it.``
Soft gyres of strawberry peach condensed into this rounded cheeks, a few clusters of zit scars embracing each other on the surface. The rope of general shyness seemed to restrain the man a bit, his lips stiffly straightened as the rest of his countenance had been somewhat tidy, maybe. After the brief moment of silence surrounding them, Roderick seemed to finally articulate puzzle of his own tongue.. The Scotsman could only hope that the woman didn't take it as a poor attempt of trifling, as he carried no intent for such a thing in the first place. In spite of the thorny execution of his genuine fondness of having Brown as a friend, he grasped into that spark of confidence to proceed with it all. As it is, he didn't see a point on why he couldn't let his discomfiture get the best of him. It only had him be painted as a fool than he already was, anyways.. Well, that was what he believed.
`` I'd love to see yer fossils sometime, perhaps. Well, if ye want. `` He momentarily pauses, consciously fiddling his hand against the hem of his thick, loose sleeves. `` I uh.. I think that'll be pretty cool. `` He finally cuts off the conscious fiddling, cocking his head as he lifts up a tender yet somewhat jagged grin.. It surely was the discomfiture getting the best of him, his awareness catching upon it as he attempts to not paint himself that way. His attempt was rather poor anyway, how miserable. `` I can give ye one of my books in return. Don't uh.. wanna make it seem like it's weird or anythin'. ``
you may pick anyone here! my apologies about the lack of characters :0
Oh, to be what one could call gay-lesbian solidarity.
In a way, Jo'Ann already had that in the form of Presley, but even her companion got a little too eccentric and just... A little too on the nose with all those life-and-death teachings (as well as all that schmuck about what happened after one died) for her liking at times. Who could blame her, really? Jo'Ann, at the end of the day, wasn't the type of person to muse much about philosophy, a subject that she actively sought to avoid whenever she had the opportunity to not do work (which was scarily often) and to spend time with someone besides Presley (which wasn't as scarily often as one would expect, but still just a liiiiiiittle scarily often).
The redhead instead opted to blab about the latest object of her fascination, tea, to the very man who introduced her to habitual tea-drinking in the first place- Well, to be sentimental, he was sort of her best friend in a way, even if she really, really couldn't shut up about the latest tea blend that she attempted to concoct with nobody except herself to refer to for sagely advice.
"I'm actually surprised that oolong and chamomile went as well as it did," chirruped Jo'Ann while fluttering her lashes, "I was expecting it to be too herbal for my taste, but it manages surprisingly well after you add a teaspoon of sugar or so." Just a warning, though: never, ever take dining or drinking advice from her - her palate was as refined as a cow's backside, to put it nicely. Alas, she continued, "I think honey could have a similar effect if you get, say, wildflower or clover, but I think that wouldn't really matter..."
Jo'Ann paused to scratch a burgeoning itch at the side of her head, then sighed, "You haaaaaaave to give me more recommendations on that when you can. I can do the same for coffee, as long as you don't mind absurd amounts of saccharine or some other type of sweetener." Mirth did emanate from her voice as per usual, but it tempered itself slightly when she reached that last bit of her comment. History had proved time and time again that Yngvar and coffee wasn't necessarily the best combination, but...
She'd keep her mouth shut on that matter for now, juuuuuust to maintain the jovial atmosphere of the conversation. After all, who was she but a party pooper if she dared bring up that one particular incident in front of him?
She did, however, lean in slightly and offer an alternative, "Or, if you want... You can tell me about those funny Moomin creatures I see you talk about every so often." Jo'Ann broke off and glanced towards one of the front pockets in her jeans. "They look soft and squishy, kind of like Bobo," she remarked while squeezing her hands together as if imitating whatever she wanted to do should she ever encounter a real Moomintroll (stuffed or in the flesh), "Are they some sort of Pokémon species that Unova has to discover? What are they like? Can I get one?" Honey...
An additional centimeter was traveled by the middle-aged woman's head before she chirped, "I think I'd like one a lot. Is this 'Finland' where they live? You should get one and then give it to me during tea time. Wouldn't that be lovely?" Yes. Very lovely, ma'am.
@ NP: hi there, please pick from this tag when looking for a character to reply to!! characters from the human part of the One-Track Mind folder, the Lanternlight folder, and the Wolf of the Sea folder are all meant to be human; I just put cats as their main icons for personal preference reasons, so look at their individual Human tabs if considering their appearance!! :)
also I maaaaay do a follow-up for NP if I have the time- u_u
Doloreswas subtle, gentle, a sharp contrast from Sable and her fierce, headstrong nature. Nevertheless, it was that subservient personality that appealed to the officer, who lounged off to the side, within Sauveterre's parlor. On the rare occasion that she visited her husband, it was nice to kick back and relax there... even if she ended up restless and irritated later on. She was content, though. Because she had chocolate-covered blueberries.
It was as she snacked on her berries that she addressed Dolores, doing so flatly as a stuck-up noble often would to a servant. Speaking of... "Lord Alkaev must be selecting his employees more wisely these days." she commented, smugness hinted in her voice, "My own household workers I've been more fastidious in regards to, but I think being critical makes people better. At your age -- assuming you're not at the point of going soft in the head -- I'm sure you've had that sort of idea whipped into you over the years. I'm guessing, though. You have the aura of someone who's been in service for some time."
"..He's usually a dolt about these things, though, which is why it's so surprising." She didn't mind speaking poorly of her husband, admittedly. Or either of her husbands. It was just that she obviously loved one more than the other -- like a favorite child, as bad as that probably sounded. But it's too late. I wrote it, and I am not deleting it.
"I'm sure you've also served dolts, though, and you're also well-adjusted enough not to speak out against dolts." Sable scoffed, slouching in her seat and downing another blueberry. "Let him be stupid, by the Twenty, it's good advice from me of all people, the woman who decided she would give him a child. Or, he gave me a child, if you want to argue about our status. Not that you should care."
Sable sneered as she spoke the next words, "You're a foreigner, after all."
Finding it impossible to just sit around like a bitch any longer, she rose from the chaise at last. She stretched out her body, her pale eyes lingering on Dolores as she did. She had to ponder a little more -- why would her husband ever hire a foreigner? Was she that good? Where did he even get Dolores from? ..Did he buy her from some market, perhaps? With Ophesia in such an isolated state, it was the only notion Sable had in regards to the elder's place in Sauveterre, and to which she sighed.
No, her husband wasn't one for buying people, was he? He was so vehemently against such a thing...
"Just stay out of the way, and you will be fine." Sable gave her last piece of advice, as she stepped around Dolores. "You are better than half the brats he takes under his wing, anyhow. By the Gods, am I tired of that Clarian cat he keeps around."
@ NP: pick from this tag only, please! [you're also free to use older/younger tabs if you want just lmk]
Monterey looked and acted like a bulldog. Ugly and stubborn, she lacked a bit of charisma. Alas her efforts in amicability weren't blunted in the slightest (this can also count as a bad thing), and when two hideously wealthy women are put together and one of them is described as the former, God looks down and shakes his head. Monty cannot get enough of fellow rich people, mooching off of their asses especially. Trust her with your banking info, she loves you.
"Excuse me, ma'am?" She wringed her fingers and bit down on her ivories like a beaver. "You work with reptiles, yes? So sweet, I've donated to so many causes attempting to help endangered species in the past. Ah, I wonder if you've heard of them, or if you've donated yourself before?" Monty fidgeted with the sleeve of her mackintosh and looked at Dragonetti. It's so hard to believe anyone could possibly like this woman, she has the personality of a kitchen carpet and the fashion sense of an Applebee's manager. In a weird way, Monty found it charming. It was like looking into a mirror, specifically a grody one hanging by a screw in a public school restroom. This was a displeasing thing at least.
Asides, charities schmarities, she's donated to whatever the 90's equivalent of reptile donation streams were. Twenty smackaroos every month to save a baby snake, AND you get a free t-shirt! Whadda deal!
"Have you seen the merchandise they put out if you donate? I think you'd like some of the offers they have. Oh, please, it'd be so sweet of you to give some cash to save the crocodiles.. I really recommend it."
"I like Cadaveris" Cadaver narrows his eyes, leaning on his heels slightly "Oh why??? Well we have almost the same name... is there another reason?? No not really, I dont get along well with many people so... 'sharing 7 out of 9 letters of his name with me' is a pretty good starting point..." Cadaver turns to Cadaveris with a closed-mouth smile, trying his best to look inviting with his hands stuffed in his pockets and the spiked teeth along his cheek gritting together. "Look, dont get me wrong bud, you kinda a sight, ya know? I mean, I could definitely pick you out in a group of strangers, but then again, some might say im a lil bit of an eye-catcher too..." The young man gestures awkwardly to his face "Multiple mouths..."
"Hey maybe we can slap on some sick tunes, you can show me how you do that rad makeup and then we play some fucken games on my pc, sounds like a damn good night in if you ask me?"
(revival time weeeee)
"So! Heard ya liked vidya games huh? We should totally play together sometime Salem!" Reese beamed, his shark-like teeth bared in a smile. "Also heard you were immortal which honestly, super cool. You'll have to tell me how you did that, or I can beat you in mortal kombat for it!"
“I think you’re an artist,” it said. “My favourite artist.” The Champion set down next to Dea. Its gaze fixated on the crayon drawing the other was working on.
“I think that is art,” he said. The Minotaur’s ear slightly twitched, and his thumb rubbed the crayon he held in his own hand. “Do you think I can create something as well?” he asked the medicine robot. His voice unwavering and monotone like always, but you could, somehow, feel a hint of insecurity seeping into the warrior’s words.
“I will try,” it insisted. The Champion of the Scored placed down his crayon on his own piece of paper. He drew a line. Then another. The Minotaur’s fingers let go of the crayon, and he stared at the two lines he’d drawn.
“I did create something,” he said. “I am like you now,” he told Dea. His gaze shifted back to the robot and his snout slightly twisted in some form of ‘smile’. “I am also an artist now.”
--
"Thank you," Salvador replied. He rubbed his mustache with a forwn. "I grew it myself."
She smiled at salvador her ears perked up " you seem like a friendly guy!!" She bounced around " i like that you dislike fighting! " she giggled " thats a respectable trait to have!!" She couldnt help but laugh alittle " i also like your mustache "
---
Oop- shes not a animatronic vv
(Fuck sorry
V laid his head on his hands watching Nea do her work. His triplets, still toddlers at the time, crowding around the gal vying for her attention. He didn’t really care about the woman too much, but the fact they got his most rowdy kid Angela to not be yelling in his ear was a damn god send
Eventually however as the kids got their ice cream V had the chaotic trio rush back to his little table that he sat at. He was happy they were happy that was for sure, turning his gaze to Nea he gave a curt nod “thanks fer hearding the rugrats for a bit ma’am”
(He likes her cause she’s the most likely to make his kids happy of your cast bebshsbs)