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Hey, here's a new game, want to play? Ask a question directly to the character above you! Then when you're asked a question, come back and edit your post to answer IC. Please only answer IC. You can ask your question OOC or IC. If you ask it OOC then the next person can choose which character to ask a question to. You have to respond IC!
Please wait 4 posts before you post again, that way we can encourage everyone to play. You can ignore this rule if it's been longer than 24 hours.
No sexual content!
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Yukio eyes Estelle curiously, his eyebrow raised. He could tell Estelle was frail - and he certainly did not radiate any sort of overwhelming magic. All the same, though, he had a certain eminence to him - the kind accrued by age. Yukio knew it well.
"I must admit, I don't get the chance to speak with kings often. So: what do you plan to do with your.. ah, what is it? Your kingdom?" Sat casually on the marble steps leading up to his church, Yukio leans back into his relaxed posture. He smiles, briefly, though he seems more amused by something happening in his own head. "Surely you have a rather loyal populace. Perfect for conquest. Tell me - do you plan to be a conquerer?"
Oh, now this was the kind of human Yukio was the most fond of! Short-tempered, loud, fully indulgent in its anger - how charming! There was hardly any point lying now: this fellow caught onto him, and so Wrath would ring every ounce of hate from his teeth before killing him.
"Does that upset you, stranger?" He's practically grinning ear-to-ear, not concerned with hiding his toothy fangs. "I see no reason to be ashamed! It was an act of self-defense, really. He was just so wretched to look at - an ugly child with uglier eyes. A lot like you."
He watches the janitor's hands tighten around the base of his mop, waiting for his next move. How honorable - he was so willing to throw himself into the onslaught for someone as worthless as that boy.
"Did you just what--" Yuan Shou glared at Yukio with flared shit, he can't believe that he heard such the most malicious stuff that Yukio ever said to him. A part of him wants to STRANGLE the living shit out of him to death but his other part prevent him from doing that, because there is something that he want to ask before throwing hands at him.
"You little piece of shit, you fucking dirty BASTARD." he grips his hands on the mop harder. "What the fuck did you do to Mikiko?! that poor soul didn't even DO ANYTHING WRONG! Do you even feel regrets or feeling embarrassed for your petty actions?!?!"
"I hope I don't come off as rude," Xander said. His finger traced the edges of his teacup. His lips uncurled. "But I do wonder," Xander looked at Yuan. Then blinked. "Can you maybe tell me about your family? You must have a family right?" Xander asked. He placed down his teacup, onto a saucer (no spills) and paused. "Are they as interested in cleaning as you are sir? Ah, please don't feel obligated to answer, I was just curious."
--
"I do not know what a tv is," Xander replied. He pressed his lips together. "But I do know ale. I like ale, but I like rye-spirits a bit more. They are, well you see friend, heavier, fuller of taste," he said. "But besides drinking that, don't think of me as a drunk, my dear friend, I rarely drink... I read. I play my instruments and I write. I take automobile out of town, or brush my horse. Ah. It's not very exciting as I am just an old man."
IcyHot smiles slightly. “What’s your favorite thing to do when your relaxing? You look like the kind of guy to crack open a cold beer and watch tv.”
“Yes my planet is quite different then Earth. The Wildlife is really different, especially the animals your allowed to consume.” He chuckles “I have to admit that I’ve been yelled at for trying to consume a dog. But that’s because canines are prey animals in our culture.”
"I imagine the planet you came from is quite different from earth, isn't it? How has adjusting to this world been for you, dear? What did you struggle with most?"
"That is... a good question, dear." One he had to actually think about for a moment before he could reply properly. "Given the way my current self has come to be I can't help but feel drawn to it, to some degree... but to be honest, as simple as it may be, I like that in true chaos everyone is as equal as they will ever be. It's interesting to wipe the board, remove status and all those pointless constructs and see what comes of it. For me it has always been this way, it has always fascinated me. I think I find chaos most comfortable because it is more liberating than plans and order. Plans need to be followed, following them requires specific actions at a specific time, rely on different factors outside of one's control and tend to make people anxious, chaos... chaos doesn't do that. You just try to take everything in your stride and don't worry about outcomes. And in the end it bears more opportunities than a set order ever will."
(I hope this makes sense dfgjobfg that really was an awesome question, thank you!)
"You say that you find comfort in chaos...This may seem a counter-intuitive question, but is there a particular reason why? This ease you feel in the unknown, surely it must have stemmed from something..."
"Yer older than you're pretending to be," the thief challenged. He placed his eyebrow on the table in between them and his lone eye studied Boris.
"Yer types are all de same. Babelin' about immortality, talkin' angsty about der superiority over others," Roswell said. He laughed. He removed his elbow and leaned backward in his chair.
"Tell me. Do yer have memories about yer life before dis vampire-fate of yers?" Roswell's lips curled up higher.
"And ah, please, be as anxious as ye possibly can as yer try to explain how yer powers and opportunities are beyond me limited understanding. Me, a wee ol' mortal. It amuses me."
--
Roswell stopped in his tracks. He turned around to Illanya with a smile. "Thinkin' makes yer brain slow, Squirrelheart," he told her. Then shrugged. "What's been buggin' yer lass?" Roswell followed her broad movements and also studies the church around them. As if he's seen it for the first time. "Well simple," he said. "As long as we do sumethin' good, ol' mayor Duo leaves us.. Mostly alone," he explained. "Dis is a, religious, plight did yer know. Feedin' and clothing the poor," he said with a quick smile. "Yer like no other must know dat state and church are separated be law. If de mayor wants to enter here with his dogloyal city guards, to search for.. Let's say, stolen coins, dey have to have mé de charity's-masters permission first. And I never agree," he laughed. "De goal is money aye,' he agreed. His smile faded slightly. "As the flow of money stops, poor ol' me and all these poor kids and eldery will die," he said. Roswell wobbled slightly on his feet, his smile had dissapeared and only he's frown stay.
"Ah," he said. "Food keeps people loyal. Yer find little out there on de street," he explained. "I get some, government support to feed de poor, give dem shelter keep dem off of de cleaner and nicer streets. 'nd De poor feed me by stealin'."
^^ SQUIRRELHEART OMGGGGG Ilove that lmaooo! Fantastic. Also very interesting 👀
“Roswell? Do you have a minute?” The paladin has her wounded arm tucked close to her body as she speeds up her pace to catch up to the old thief. She looked a bit better considering the past few days she’d spent resting in the thievesden. Resting and wondering.
“I’ve been thinking… Why do all of this?” She gestures vaguely around them, to the church around them. “This soup kitchen facade, creating this veritable empire of thieves here in Drakenburg. What’s the end goal?” Illanya asks, more curious than accusatory in her expression.
“Or is the game more just to gain more and more money, with not particular end in mind? And why a soup kitchen specifically? Surely there are other options you could chosen as a front for your den here.”
Illanya’s gaze draws up from where she’d been practicing forms, swinging a classic longsword to memorized formations and techniques. Giving Calluna a cursory glance as the other approaches, the knight lowers her sword and brushes some stray hair from her face. Then immediately steps back at the other woman’s aggressive pointing and abrupt manner of speaking.
“Me?” The paladin sounds bewildered, but seems to relax when it’s clear Calluna doesn’t seem intent on starting a fight. She’s silent as the other speaks, patiently waiting for the other to get her words organized. Brow furrowed, the Paladin hums thoughtfully, a look of sorrow and regret passing her face for a moment. She sticks the sword in the ground and looks at her hands.
“It’s a complicated thing. I will admit I am not the best at it. I act in anger at times, fight with my rage… lose my temper.” One hand goes to the other and she closes her hand in a fist, looking back up at Calluna. “Part of it is that… though there is more to it for me, I suppose.”
“Some Paladins have sworn oaths, tenets that they choose to uphold in their everyday lives… that’s what gives us our power.” Illanya opens her fist and a few vines coil up her wrist and blossom in her hand. “When I swore my oaths, I swore to defend that which is light, good, joy, and life. To be merciful, kind and to bring hope by my deeds. They may just be words, but I choose to live by them… it helps keep me from going too far.” Illanya then smiles, plucks the flower from her hand and offers it to Calluna.
“Don’t give up on yourself if you lapse into violence, after all, we all make mistakes. What matters is that you try… right?”
Calluna watches the warrior woman, keeping herself at a militant distance before engaging. There is... something about her, something in her eyes, something in the way she wields her sword that gives off a sense of purpose. Something that feels holy, that feels... good. She can't decide whether to revere it, or despise it.
"-You." She says, approaching the other knight. Calluna's glare and the point of her gauntlet almost make the motion come off like a threat- but she soon slows, softening herself. "How... Do you manage it. How do you..." The words are jumbled, tangled like brambles. She should have figured out her question before engaging. She should have had a battle plan.
"I've seen you fight. To be a knight is to be a creature of violence, to use that violence to protect those you love- Is there a way to keep the violence from spilling over? How do become violent enough to protect someone, without being so violent that you're the danger?"
Calluna casts a withering glare at whoever has chosen to interrupt her. It doesn't matter that she's always training, always a little buried in her own world- any engagement at all feels like an interruption. Her anger, sharp, reacts for her before she gets a good look at Liors- and it sets in how meek this starry-eyed half-elf is, standing there, barely able to stutter a question. Her thorns do not dissipate, nor does her glare lessen, but she allows him to finish without incident- which is more than most can say after walking in her way. He is small. He is weak. He is not the person for her sword.
"...I am no charlatan bard. I have no tales to share. If you want the satisfaction and comfort of a legend, there's books for those. The battlefield offers no closure, only a rush of faces you'll soon forget amidst fire and blood." She plants her weapon- a heavy, gnarled thing- in the dirt. There is a pause, as she considers herself, considers how to answer the next part of his question. Calluna- notorious for clinging to her armor- unwinds the gauntlet around her hand, releasing brambles and furls of plantlife that must have previously been pressed into her skin.
"Of course it does. Of course it affects me," She says, simply. They spring supernaturally from her, rose petals blooming in the newfound air with an almost fairytale elegance. She stares at it with a tinge of disgust. "I do not think of them as a part of me. They do not starve, these plants. Only hunger. And it is not food nor water that they want, only dirt, only to bury me." Calluna seems to detect that she's almost indicated a weakness in herself- brambles tighten and twirl with insecurity, and she bares her teeth. "-But they will not win."
Lior was honestly terrified of approaching Calluna, with a stupid question like that as well. While he felt like she had something... knightly about her he could sense a darkness surrounding her - or maybe that was just his anxiety! Though the way she carried herself surely added to it. He held a great deal of respect for anyone of her occupation, of course, but she was intimidating. So much so that he felt awfully small next to her, even more than he usually did anyway. "E-excuse me-" gods, what even was the right title to address her by? "M-miss..." probably wasn't right but he was scared of getting stabbed for calling her a Lady, "I- I think I heard quite a lot about you, about your deeds..." he began, carefully. If anything at least Calluna was rather hard to miss with the vines accompanying her and the plants growing ll over her body. "I was just- I was wondering if you would perhaps be inclined to share some of your tales with me... b-but also..." the elf took a deep breath, "I have to admit I am curious about your... condition. B-besides the obvious effects- does it affect you at all?" He felt stupid, but he had to ask, "do you need more food or water perhaps? These vines look like they are feasting off of your energy..."
(Them. <3 They keep being a wreck and I love them. xD sorry if this is messy x.x) spoiler bc it got kind of long and rambly.
That was kind of the point though, wasn't it? Reciprocated feelings usually marked an ending, not the beginning of a story. Probably so that no one had to come up with the awkward interactions afterwards, like what people talked about on dates... What did people talk about on dates? Especially first dates of all things!
They had so many conversations, shared thoughts and yet... this felt awfully unnatural. Maybe they had just kind of skipped the first date idea? Or- Lior's thoughts were spiraling when En asked about the weather, only to immediately recognize that was probably a mistake - but to be fair, at this point the elf would have tried to have a conversation about the weather, just to break the awkward silence. Where did that even come from? Usually their silence was more comfortable.
Hearing En's 'confession' he chuckled, albeit still a bit awkwardly. "It's been... a while... for me as well." Lior admitted. He was not much farther than En in that regard, though he did not have any children either, he just imagined they took up more of one's mind than the idea of dating again, especially after the loss of a partner. "I- I think-" the elf began, though not so sure if he should continue, "I think it might be because it feels... more strangely... 'official'?" he was not sure how to say that properly. "W-which, of course, is nice! B-but... I'm pretty nervous as well." his words were accompanied by the hint of a reassuring smile, although it was not certain who he was trying to reassure. Maybe En, maybe himself? There was so much and so little to talk about at the same time and overthinking made it even harder to choose the 'right' topics.
Usually so full of stories his mind had just gone blank while he was feverishly trying to find something he could tell the king and staring down at his darkened hands. Last time, last time... "Ah, I was afraid my ramblings were boring at best, last time..." he mumbled, his face turning a darker shade, "I- I used to go there often, when I still lived at the palace. Well, to be honest, I didn't spend much time at the palace but-" he cut himself off, "that's not too important now, is it." It certainly was not! "I always liked the plants growing there, you know? Something else glowing made me feel less... weird. They don't really grow in a lot of places, naturally, though they are technically easy to care for. I suppose they're just not a dominant species and other plants are more successful growing in places with more competition." Ah yes, bore the poor man with botany, why don't you?
"I- I'm sorry, I did it again." Lior sighed. "It's kind of funny though... I know so many stories yet right now I can't even think." he fell silent for a moment, "But... you know what I like about stories? They tell a lot about the people and places they originate from. We might not know some things of the past but we can reconstruct them with stories, a lot of them have some truth to them. Like... where I'm from, a lot of the stories that are told to children and anyone else willing to listen are about gods and their lives, rather than great feats about slaying a dragon or anything like that. It's actually very possible that they were just people once... actually, some you can trace pretty far back and even find evidence for. I- I don't know I just think that is pretty- pretty fascinating."
"A-also I forgot to say I wanted to say you can't possibly ruin this, I am just... very happy you found some time we can spend together." the elf added carefully, as if that was a controversial thing to say, though at least this time he smiled visibly. He really just liked being near En was all, even if they were awkward about it.
The king fidgeted awkwardly with the tablecloth on his end. This was... significantly worse than he'd expected. When the person you care about shares your feelings that's usually a good ending, right? But none of those stories ever went past that, and that included the first official date. What... What kind of conversations did first dates have?
Thus, En sat stiff, looking everywhere but at Lior while racking his brain for a question of something he didn't know already. Come on, surely there was something he didn't know! "So, uh..." he felt his mouth stumble for him. "How... How about that weather?"
God, please no.
The king dunked his head in shame and sighed, "I'm sorry. Would you believe I haven't been on a date in, well... uh... t-twenty years?" He hadn't been on a single date since his kids were born! Even then, he wasn't sure if he was dating correctly. "I have no idea what to say. It's weird, isn't it? I know how you feel, so... why am I still so nervous?"
After a moment, En attempted a small smile. "Don't let me ruin this date with an old man's pity party. Do you, uh, have any stories? Any adventures you went on, or places you discovered? Like that place you showed me last time."
You can reply to him or his other tabs
"Family's a hard thing to balance out, even for us," En said with a sympathetic smile. He folded his arms while thinking over his words. "You're right that my duties keep me away many times, and typically when I get free time, my kids are the ones that are busy. My daughter is taking a few classes she thinks will benefit her in the long run, and my son is in a different country taking over leadership." His smile was sad but proud. It was his son's own decision to go, not to get away or to take power early, but because he hated seeing En get run ragged with running two kingdoms.
"I try to set dates where we can all be together for small family vacations. It never feels like enough time, and they grow up so fast, but I love those days. I even make strawberry muffins for my daughter all the time. My son, he still thinks there's a way to make green onion muffins!" he laughed before rambling nonstop about his children, even asking about the doctor's own daughter as well.
With one arm wrapped gently behind his back and the other gripping tight at his briefcase, Kestrel wondered what exactly would be appropriate to ask a king. Surely, many who seek an audience with En ask for a favor, but Kestrel didn't ask for an audience; he merely found himself here on business, helping a scullery maid from the castle with a rather nasty burn, and on the way out he found himself face to face with the king. Nobility was something foreign to him, daunting in every possible aspect, even with the sheltered luxury (if you could even call it that) his own childhood had been enveloped in. From what he knew, though, and the few awkward minutes of shaky conversation, he wondered if asking about family would cross any sort of line. Clearing his throat, he spoke up. "You mentioned your family, sir -- your majesty. Two children, I believe you said. How wonderful."
A pause sits between them, drenching the air with unease as a result of Kestrel's poor attempts at conversation. He weighs his options, then continues. "Do you spend much time with them? I imagine you're busy, what with your duties and all, but it does well for the mind to spend time with family. Doctor's orders, you know."
He cringes inwardly. What a dumb comment. It was times like these where Kestrel was most thankful for his mask; if it weren't on him, En would've seen the grimace that covered Kestrel's face as soon as he said that.
"I also ask because you mentioning your daughter reminded me of my own," he adds quickly. His voice dips, as if any mention of his own family was hush-hush, some secret he couldn't completely divulge. "She was a sweet girl. I'm sure your daughter is just as kind."