The OC Above is Too...

"You're too cute." Otto, as usual, smiled as he spoke to her. He had waltzed into her estate as if he owned the place, and was unafraid of following up his sudden arrival with a shower of compliments. It was the same thing over and over, wasn't it? He liked to be chummy with women, he liked to befriend them, and then he liked to leave. They could clean up the mess. Smith could clean up the mess. He cared not what happened to her beyond the adorableness of her little face and mouse-brown hair.

"Dare I say, it isn't fair that your husband owns you, but so coldly leaves you alone. It's like neglecting a pup. It seems impossible." he said to her, "Any sane man would be delighted to spend time with you..." He trailed off, and then with a sly laugh, he asked, "Are you sure that your husband enjoys the presence of ladies, madame?"

Otto scoffed. He rolled his eyes. Gently interlocking his arm with Smith's, he walked farther with her into the room. He only let go of her again to slink down and sit on the sofa. There, he reclined without a care in the world, observing her for a moment. He wondered if he should have brought flowers again, or maybe even a drink. Not alcohol, he told himself, because alcohol was a bit too forward, and he, frankly, didn't want to even imagine her downing shots of whiskey. Juice would do better. He should have brought cranberry juice.

"Maybe you should take up interior decorating while he's away." he suggested, "You're fond of fashion, so I'd assume you have an eye for aesthetics in general. If not decorating, then painting, perhaps? I'm certain that anything you create would be just as darling. You should consider it! One of my women -- one of my workers -- paints often. She does commissions on the side. Not that she needs them, nor do you, but it would be nice to make a little spending money, yes?"

I would love to sell some art and buy a donut.

"I could never, though." Otto admitted. He wasn't much of an artist, unless one counted his interest in music and flower arranging. "Paints confuse me. I don't have the mind or the eye for it, you know?"

     "T-Too reckless! You're far too reckless!" Hopper stammered, practically trembling as he looked around with wide, fretful eyes. "A-As the head of a noble house, you have so much responsibility! Your every decision effects countless lives! Y-You should really be more careful about those!" Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the movement of dogs-- dozens of dogs! The blood drained from his face and he hunched over to avoid looking at them again.
     "Y-Your life is also very valuable," the prince whimpered. "If you were to die, that would effect countless lives! No doubt for the worse! A-And as someone so high up in the nobility, there must be so many people out to take you out." He rubbed his arms and shivered. "Walking around so casually, talking so carefree, it's too reckless!"

You can talk to him or his older self!

(Going with young Hopper!)

"You are too- toooo... you look too cute." Vika finally remembered what she wanted to say. "And anxious. But I mean. if you looked scarier you might just make people nervous enough that they would avoid you anyway and you wouldn't have to worry about them. But like this? I don't know..." she somewhat gently pinched his cheek, ignoring the possibility of him flinching. After all, he had nothing to fear from her and she had decided that she would make him realize that, even if it took ages because why the hell not.
"Actually, do you have anything that makes you feel, I dunno, confident?" Vika asked, mindlessly flinging her knife around. "Not gonna lie, sometimes things just suck, but maybe it's a bit less dreadful if you have some safety thing you can carry around, you get me?" Probably not, as she did not make a lot of sense. Talking was hard! How did people do that? Communication... who needed communication anyway... damn it. "Also I'm still offended by you fainting over a joke." she mumbled, glancing over to him, though eventually she was not able to hold in her laughter. "I'm messing with you, don't worry! But seriously. I have decided I like you so you officially have nothing to fear, even if you still won't trust me."

"Yo where the hell did you come from?!" that was far more concerning than the fact that he mentioned her being ready to burn something down. That was not too far from the truth, actuallly... she would probably do that. "What do you mean 'now'? The world looks the same as ever, nothing's changed or whatever..." Vika shrugged. Now Hopper's paranoia would probably have been useful to keep her from doing anything stupid. "What happens if I do?" she asked, because surely Rot would answer truthfully... "I suck ad carving pumpkins tho, doubt I'd get you down correctly anyway." That was a lie. If there was one thing she could do it was handle a knife. But she was rather convincing. Maybe asking first was actually a smart way to go, sometimes. 

" vika is too.... too cool! Probably wouldn't mind burning something down " he floated around Vika " soooo what's the world like now?? Destroyed? Luxurious? Lemme know orrr you can use this ' coolness ' to help me?? By chance??" He smirked " all i need is for you to carve me into a pumpkin. Simple. " he slid A pumpkin over " now mr. Cool, help me?"

"You're a bit too... Overbearing, I think," Saiph started, looking down to the ground. "What's the fun in getting other people to do things for you like that? I mean, maybe I'm just wrong and all, but I've learned that people like you cause a number of problems when 'ya get what you want." He said with a sigh. "I'd love to help you get what you need, don't get me wrong! B-but I'm just not the guy you're looking for. Why don't you get some help from a proper mage? The things they can do for 'ya is incredible, I promise."

Too distinguishable? That was Saiph's first goal upon gaining consciousness, but did he really have too much of that? No no-- maybe too little? How interesting it was that things like that had their limits... He hadn't exactly considered changing up his wardrobe in a while, and his clothes had been getting rather frayed from a few skirmishes. He didn't exactly want to change things up, seeing as his outfit was crafted by his dearest Black Mage friend, but Saiph knew he had to become his own individual, separate from his upbringing. Thing was, though, he didn't desire blending in too much. Going with the grain felt out of place with him, and he didn't wish to follow things to a t after he learned about how they're usually done a solid 90% of the time. What a complicated train of thoughts over a simple outfit change, just change your damn clothes, kid!

"I uh, think my hair's fine, having it long's nice. If you think a change of clothes is in line for me, though, I'll give it a shot-- can't hurt, can it?"

"You're just...too... well distinguishable. Like I get the getup but your fashion choice is questionable." The genome pondered as he scanned the other's getup and taking one of his hands to examine his choices.

"Honestly, you sure try and look different than the rest of the Genomes but it ain't far enough, like one who tried to copy the fashion trends of society.

What I think is you need something casual so you blend in with the rest of society. You wanna explore the towns and the rest of Gaia...? You gotta lose the clothing, yet I think we might have some nice suggestions to make a fine breakaway like yourself become a unique individual. Take it from me and my brother Zidane." He sighed as he poked Saiph.

"Some nice white and maroon gilets, belts and even tidy up that long ass hair of yours. You're independent and we outta make it shaped like you."

Something about Abel was, unfortunately, just what gave someone like Caelestis an irresistible drive to approach him. That aura that said so clearly, 'don't approach me,' but ever so ironically would incite just the opposite in the persistent celestial. How amusing it was. 

Admittedly, it was somewhat rare to linger in a single area long enough long enough for familiar faces to form, but with some reoccurring business nearby, it was difficult to not notice Abel's passing presence from time to time as Caelestis wandered about himself from task to task. Surprising, almost, for the werewolf wasn't someone who felt to command attention, nor by all means appeared to desire it, yet here things were even still. And like this, it was one evening that Caelestis finally found the opportunity to greet him before the other disappeared behind the secluding barriers of his apartment.

"…You're so tall and strong," he commented blithely. "Yet so delightfully thoughtful and mild." The words were seasoned with a hint of a sigh, although not a dissatisfied sort. "Pardon, but surely you can understand my notice." Previously leaning with leisure against a nearby wall, Caelestis stepped away to approach more straightforwardly once it seemed that he at least wasn't ignored entirely. It was a start. "The plants as well, I've noticed—you care for them a great deal, don’t you? I can feel their joy even from down here." It was true, actually. There was always the most subtle connection that remained even in the form he now took.

"But to think I've seen little but the briefest of exchanges at most despite this bustling world, is your lifestyle not just a bit too isolated? There is so much to like of you I find, the universe is missing out a bit, I daresay." He chuckled a bit, although knowing that it most likely wasn't something Abel would prefer to change.

In a way, he wondered a bit what it was like. So vastly different from his own approach to life, after all. "Only, it doesn't always hurt to spend a bit more time around others from time to time," he went on. "I can perhaps understand a sense of disconnect from those around you. Though… it seems more a dislike." A slight pause followed as he pondered further. "A distrust? But you know, the company of another can be quite pleasant even still. They aren't all bad." 

It was admittedly a fairly odd rambling of sorts to approach someone with. Probably not the best way to win points with the other party, either. But even with all that, his spontaneous mind did actually have a destination in mind for once. "Or… would you say, perhaps mind mine instead? I would love to get to know you better." Caelestis raised an eyebrow somewhat playfully in suggestion. Of course, he was… most importantly, here to flirt. And though the implications of his own nonhuman nature were left unaddressed, someone with Abel's senses he wouldn't be surprised to have caught on. Perhaps he had a bit more of a chance that way, at least?

(bump)

Oh no here he comes. Melchiorre had heard all sorts of rumors about this weirdo, mostly from Xavier. "Don't you think it's a little... creepy that he just sort of showed up one day?" she'd asked, and now that he thought of it, it was. Still, he'd never thought to ask just what the heck his deal was. Melchiorre didn't like talking to strangers anymore... And oddly enough, the weirdo seemed to know exactly why. He-- now what was his name again?! Sullestis? Yeah, something like that-- started yammering on and on about how it was just so fascinating to find another being that had been detached from his physical form, and Melchiorre bristled.

"Alright, look, buddy, I'm not just some-- hold on, did you say another?!" Sullestis' eyes widened, and he immediately backpedaled. I could have sworn he said... Oh, whatever. Sully didn't let him think too much longer the subject, because he immediately went back to rambling about how much of an oddity he was, and asking really personal questions about the years he'd spent in the tapes. Before he could ask just how he knew about that, Sully began rubbing his head. What the heck--?! Melchiorre slapped his hand away. "What is your deal?!" he demanded. "I don't know what your deal is, and honestly, I really don't want to know, but you're too damn nosy! S-See?! You made me swear! Just stop asking me questions, jerk! You don't want me to get the knife-- why are you smiling." Ugh. There was just no scaring him, was there?!

“You are too…resentful.”

The Highness looked to the ghost like boy named Melchirorre, the boy holding a set of knives while ready to strike at the demigoddess at any moments notice.

“Don’t get me wrong, what you have been through must have been terrible. A young one like you deserves no such fate like that, but you have to learn to either move on, or learn how to deal with your past in a healthier way.” Fahkriyya continued, sighing a bit at the display of knives.

It was a sigh of not annoyance, but pity. The Highness feeling bad for the poor boy, able to see that he has endured much suffering and pain.

“But having knives out at anyone who may see you and bringing the same fate to them of pain and suffering won’t help your case. It might make it worse. Learn to be less resentful of your past, and be more focused on the present time and your very future” they finally finished, looking to the boy in his eyes.

"Your too stuck. Dont care if your royalty, or whatever. It;d be good for ya to chill out a bit!" Yuta grinned. "Your vibes are like totally off "m'lady". Go drink a 7-up, eat a moon-pie. normal people things." Yuta snarked. "As they say~ eat the rich." (V IM SO SORRY YUTA IS A LIL B,,,)

"Your hair is too chaotic and all over the place. Also your pink eyes are way too bright and desctracting. You remind me of a K-pop star"

"Jeez, aren't you pointy, too pointy. You must be some sort of punk wannabe huh? Like I get that a few spikes look great on say the shoulders of a metal dame but you need to cool it with the teeth."