Expectation

Philomena chuffed upon walking over to Alpha.

"Mmph. You look like a nerd. Keep rockin' that sweater, though."

Reality

"I dunno if you can tell, but I'm kinda...how should I say this...disappointed," Philomena pouted as she shifted in her spot.

"But hey, everyone fricks up at some point."

expectation

Aloe blinks at the canine, chewing anxiously  a strand of hair. His deer-like ears twitch as he scans their face, trying to gain an idea of what they're like. Wriggling about on the wheelchair, the dampening cloth around their tail slipping, they decide. "You're the prom queen, one of the popular kids. You know, the kind of highschool student leader? Not the nerdy kind that actually, um, goes to student council, the kind all the other kids wanna be." They scour through the few ideas they gained of high school, entirely from Quinn, having never been themself. "The fashionable, pretty, cool girl."

reality

"Oh. Well. I can't say you're quite as nice as I was expecting. You come off as a bit of a snob, though I guess a lot of people do to me. Maybe you were more of the mean popular girl in school than the nice one. And it feels like you're only half there, and sometimes your mask slips and you yell at someone. I dunno, I guess I'm kinda disappointed."

warnings

there's some loss in their backstory (death)

Expectations 

Thalassa smirks, snapping shut her umbrella and setting it on the bench beside her.

"So. Aloe. Like aloe vera. Great for sunburns, ya know. Seem like a nice kid, though I can't say for sure since kids ain't my speciality. Some kind of marine creature, huh? I love the ocean. My name means sea, but a name doesn't say as much as a track record. If you looked at all the boat rentals in my childhood city, you'd know exactly what I was talking about. Anyways, onto the biography..." 

Reality

Thalassa sets her phone down, having read Aloe's backstory.

"Well. That was a ride. I will say, I do feel bad for the kid. Never thought I'd admit pity for anyone, mostly 'cause pity is little more than an imposed crutch. But this one deserves a little sympathy. That's no question." 

Warnings

Mentions of death, mentions of assassination. No gory details. 

Expectation: Maribelle was... envious, really. Terribly, horribly envious. She prodded at one of her earlobes where she wished lustrous earrings could be. Then, she was reminded of her hair, not as beautiful as it could be, and then of her lip, not delicately covered in cherry red lipstick. She was quiet for a few minutes, her facial expression solemn, bitter. She supposed she had to get a move on, though. To say something so that Cynthia wouldn't up and leave out of sheer boredom.

"You look... sophisticated, I-- I guess." she commented meekly, "I'd think you were of a higher social standing, someone who isn't, uh, as... filthy, as some others." Who were those others? Scum. Peasant scum, the lowlifes of society, though she felt as thought she could relate to them more than Cynthia, if only out of a now recently-developed sense of inferiority. The woman before her was just so beautiful. She wasn't sure if she could think of her as anything but. Maybe she was kind, maybe she was helpful. Gods, she hoped so.

"You look like... you just have a nice life, I guess. Like you're the kind to be pampered, and you know it, because-- I mean, I don't know, I think it's just by looking at you that I think you're that smart. You're so smart... And so pretty... I guess like a proper woman should be..."

Reality: That starry-eyed look on the girl's face faded upon learning more about Cynthia, and with a sigh, she thought... What did I expect? Not someone who she would like to call a cocotte, fashionable and yet so libertine, yet so scandalous. She couldn't help but feel a little disappointed, a little betrayed, but that was fine. There wasn't much she could do, she supposed, other than spit a bit of venom towards the woman.

"You're disgusting. I don't know why you almost tossed away your life like that." she remarked, "I think-- I think that makes you more of an idiot than a proper woman now... It's just a shame, I-- I guess, that you just did that, that you got together with some... street rat." She hissed the words out coldly, though unable to find the proper tone of voice she wanted to use, her vocalization fluctuated uneasily. She scrunched up her nose and crossed her arms, looking away from Cynthia.

"Of course you're wealthy, though. Of course you're-- you're an aristocrat of sorts, even if..." She quietened to a near whisper. "Even if real women shouldn't ever be like that... trollops... floozies... Maybe your parents should've just dropped you somewhere to teach you a lesson..."

Despite everything, Maribelle really wanted some fashion advice from this lady. Even if she couldn't use it back home.

Warnings: death [lots of murder], abuse [described in more detail if you decide to check her history tab, but it's not required], sexism/homophobia?

EXPECTATION:

Well...she was certainly taller than her. Tazzi shifted her weight uneasily glancing up at Maribelle with one raised eyebrow. She decided not to look into her mind. At least, for now.

”You want my opinion?” she asked hesitantly. A few moments passed, and she signed, visibly deflating and letting her expression morph into something akin to boredom. “Honestly, you look like you’ve been through a lot. What with all the scars and the missing thumb - and damn, you look downright exhausted. But other than that, you seem pretty average, albeit a little boring.“ She shrugged. Might as well be brutally honest, since she had trouble doing anything other than that.

REALITY:

Tazzi was absolutely speechless.

Mind-reading wasn’t a habit she liked, but it was a bit necessary to learn more about Maribelle. Now, she wished she didn’t do it.

“I...wow. I’m sorry about everything. I, uh, get it, in a way...some of it...” But this wasn’t about her.

”You didn’t deserve to be abused as a kid. No wonder that messed you up. People should’ve realized that you were hurting and did something - is unfair that you had to go through so much pain.“ She looked away from her, not really knowing what to say. She was able to pick out important people from the girl’s mind... “Your adoptive dad - the second one, anyway, not the abusive scumbag - seemed like a good person...I’m sorry for your loss.“ She saw him as a father, much like Tazzi saw her master as one. Perhaps they were not so different. “You’ve been through just...a lot. But the abuse, god, I can’t imagine how that affected you. And the killing, too. That girl, though, the one who tried to kiss you...you shouldn’t have done that. But after your past, I guess I can kind of see how getting close to someone can be scary.”

Tazzi sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I hope you find peace now that you left the war behind, and start to recover. And, sorry for sort of reading your mind. I don’t judge you or anything, but my bad for being nosy.“ 

Warnings: mentions of death & trauma

Expectations:

She twitches as she stares at the man in front of her, laughing and holding her head, like she's processing and trying to think of what she thinks of him from first glance.

"INTERESTING! You're VERY VERY Cooool!!!!~" She laughs as she stares around his face "ARE THOSE SCARS? Scars? scars...SCARS?? WHAT AAARE THOSE??" She also decides to look at his hair "LOOooooONG!!!! THAT IS COOL COOL!! THAT IS COOL!! LOOKS LIKE GOLD!" She grins widely "Da'at thinks you a fighter!~ Da'at we I think...You are strong and have a BIG, GOOD HEART!! That's me guess!"

Reality:

She laughs and claps her hands "ME WAS RIGHT ABOUT BEING STRONG!!! You are a warrior warrior!!! VERY VERY cool!!!! VERY VERY strong!!!! You take priiiide in your strengths, I like it!~" She licks her teeth as she keeps staring at him. "You even have son and wife!!! Soooo sweet!~... Da'at really like you! Strong warrior man!!!"

(TW: Da'at has mentions of Murder, death and trauma)

(revival time!)

Expectation:

"O-oh, you must be a really delightful person," Lamb mumbled nervously, his eyes darting around the room. "A-a really nice lady, thats for sure. You'd never hurt a fly, right? y-you wouldn't hurt me?" 

Reality:

"oh nonononono, i-i mean, i-i'm sorry about that, b-but i'm no danger to you, r-right?" He stuttered, his voice was shaking and he was trembling. "H-how about i just leave you here and i go back o-outside?"

(TW murder)

Expectation: 

Ximena looks over Lamb and studies his appearance. "You must be one of those shy and nervous types huh? You seem to be hiding your face with your hair." She looks unimpressed.

Reality:

"Turning body parts into black sludge?" Her eyes widen a bit. "That's... certainly new. I've seen a lot of weird shit but I've never seen that."  Ximena pauses and looks around for a while before adding, "A shame about your girlfriend though, pretty fucked up..." 

warning: mentions of trauma and exorcisms in her profile

Expectation: Aster observed the person in front of her, catching sight of their unnatural hair colour and spiked collar.

 "Huh," She meowed, "We go to the same clothes stores or something?"

Reality: The smaller being stood frozen for a few moments, before relaxing her shoulders and taking a sip of coffee from the flask she was carrying. "Okay." She mumbled, "But why the tarantulas?"

Expectation: Near stared at her for a bit too long, she liked how her eyes matched her outfit. Purple was the best color after all.

"Your kinda cute..." Near's eyes widened when she realized what she said, "Oh-no, I'm sorry that was awkward. Oh man, oh gosh I'm sorry. I just like purple and your eyes are purple and you remind me of my dad's cat. So sorry, oh my gosh."

Reality: Near's brow furrowed and she pouted at her. "I don't think I like you. You are pretty on the outside but ugly on the inside. I'm leaving." Then Near turned and stomped off.

Expectation: "Oh, you seem like a very good comrade," he said. "I think I would get along with you. You don't seem like someone who would keep digging through my personal information to try and unearth any secrets of mine. I would like to share some vodka with you, if you wouldn't mind. I also get the feeling that you make friends easily, which is quite useful for me; I need someone to console the cops that keep showing up at my door because I was allegedly 'carrying a blood stained shovel around town.' Yeah, right."

Reality: "You can cast spells?" Dominiko asked, intrigued. "That would be perfect for a bodyguard! Finally, those creepy mafia guys down the street will stop stalking me because I didn't pay them the three thousand euros I promised to give them. And don't worry about trying to befriend people, either; even if you don't enjoy doing that, your strength will prove to be far more useful than any level of charisma. No more cops at my door, no more stalkers...I think this is going to work out. Yes, it will..." a concerning smile spread across his face. "Oh, also, I quite enjoy taking things, especially clothes, from dead people as well. It's nice that we have something in common."

Expectation: "You seem pretty...insane." He looked at Dominiko, careful not to get too close. It's not that he's alarmed, he's just keeping distant like he does to any others. He then clears his throat and continues to speak "I mean, no offense, but I had worked with some certain lunatic pople before...they aren't so bad per se, just all sort of crazy things could happen. You seem like someone who would play a big part in chaos to me."

Reality: "Damn...you're literally me but a dog." Sav crosses his arms together, sighing to the truth he learnt "Those long ass records must be dragging you by a whole lot, huh? You know, mine is not so short neither. How about we arrange a get away plan sometimes?"

Expectation:

"Ye look like an edgy one...Oh so scary." The cat glares at him. "Though, to be sure I've never seen a blue cat before. What a strange one..."

Reality:

The cat blinks at the boy and flicks her tail, putting her ears back slightly. "Hm...Playing with genetics? Sounds dodge. But you know what they say - The best offence is a good defence. Unless the offence is larceny, which I can get behind."