The OC above is your servant for the day

Posted 5 years, 2 months ago (Edited 1 year, 9 months ago) by Gomji

(why am i IC lmao )

The OC above lost a bet and is now your servant for the day. What would you have them do? Embarrass them in public? Make them do your homework?

...or maybe you're just a big sweetheart who lets them relax in your house and hang out with you for the day.

-[A little rule change :3] there's nothing wrong with writing shorter responses, but it may be interesting if you wrote why your character decided to order the one above to do certain chores   

-You may post after every 3 posts, unless 24 hours have passed.


-If you feel the absolute need to censor, please do so.


First person gets a free reply!


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 Kanagawa _kaylarts_

Aestrum (*holds up hand to butterfly* is this google?)

In some cultures, owls are seen as wise beings, for they are all-knowing and deeply knowledgeable. In some cultures, they are seen as omens.

For Yeen – Kanagawa — they are seen as death omens. When an owl appears in broad daylight, or at odd times of day, it means someone will die soon, someone you know.

Because of this, when Kanagawa saw Ms. Bell for the first time he was frightened.

There were little things that could frighten the spirit, but she did.

She was silent, and she stared through him as though she understood him better than even he did. With wide eyes. He knew her name right away when he saw her, and he understood she knew a great many things, and was a keeper of a great many more.

“As my servant,” he muttered through his mask, though he knew she could hear him well. “Will you show me just how much you know? As in, can you find prophecies…?”

What he could feel from her – what he could understand of her upon their first meeting – he felt was nothing compared to what she was.

Somewhere deep inside he knew he could not fail to pass up the opportunity of such great power…

Sasha parallel_lines

_kaylarts_

Wyatt had a point. The clothing was getting a bit much, sweaters, shirts and socks flung about into piles on the floor. Sasha felt like he was wading through snowdrifts just to get to his guitar, perched precariously on a desk in the corner of the room. Feeling even more annoyed about putting in effort than ever, he plopped down on his cot instead, lying back with a huff.

"Гавно okay fine, you win. But I'm doing this my way."

Like he would lift a finger to pick this stuff up. Nah, Sasha had better things to do, pretty obviously. The skating rink was calling his name, he had a bunch of notifs on Pocket, and wow, who knew that the supermarket had a steak cut for 50% off?

Only thing was, he needed a pinhead to take the bait. Someone irritatingly noble, a goody-two shoes who would absolutely clean and fold the laundry and enable his ways. Someone like the sparkly guy outside the window! Sure, he had horns and hair that looked suspiciously like a cloud made of craft-store glitter, but eh, he'd seen worse.

The promise of a day of lazing about sent him to the window, throwing it up and calling down to the said target. "Hey sparkles! You got a nice mask there! Whaddya say you be my hired help! I need a hand...please!"

Despite his eyebags and slightly unhinged look at all times, Sasha tried to look as cute as he could. Hopefully this would work. He looked like a bleeding heart, and plus he threw in a compliment! People liked that stuff.


Sasha as a servant is a nightmare XD he's always trying to escape work and will probably be snarky

Legion CaeliGlori

parallel_lines haha I'm casually reviving this thread lol

Perhaps it was a premonition from Sasha himself from his venture to the desert, as Legion manifested into the sky, where the sky was truly dark. Darker than black. It most likely wasn't the exact theory Sasha may have had in terms of aliens, but the mass was from another world, formed of non-Euclidean shapes and textures. And that was close enough, it fit the bill.

Originally, the Legion was simply here to assimilate and take the raccoon as its prize, until the conspiracy theorist enlightened the hivemind when "servant" was mentioned. Perhaps it showed mercy? Was it pity? It cannot be for sure, but the notion tickled the collective. But what even was Sasha good for to a being such as itself? What ever would Legion want for their underling to do?

Legion peered at the hopeless excuse of an individual... it would have to be something simple. Something that Sasha couldn't mess up. Just long enough to last the entire day. And so, it manifested a box in front of their newly appointed servant. It was... a box from a very popular delivery service, engraved with a lovely arrow like smile. It look like it was opened then sealed once more.

Was this a joke? It spoke with countless voices, to the point where Sasha's mind could only comprehend the one that spoke his language.

"Very well then, little one. We believe that you can fulfill this one task." The blue hues smiled at Sasha, "We will spare you, as long as you return this package to your nearest return site. It did not satisfy our needs."

It pat the raccoon on the head, believing that it wouldn't take him no time at all... if they weren't both stranded in the desert. "We possess some faith in you, little one. And even you fail, we will take you in and still relieve you of your mortal burdens. It satisfies the both of us in the end."

-----

↓ @ np - you hit the jackpot. legion can literally do anything you ask, they got so much power fr and they can multiply. have so much fun <3

↓↓ (omfg legion isn't even mad,,, just mildly bemused she owns that much jewelry HGDJSHFG I want to and will make a follow up after work 😌)

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Roswell van Breek fizzelston

Oh how frustrating. Roswell’s foot rested on his small coffee table, a makeshift bandage was hastily plastered around his ankle. Sprained. He was getting too old for running away, dodging  Kari-stalkers and the wacht alike.
“Yer hurryin’ up with dat pot of tea?” he said. Roswell looked over his shoulders towards the composer and raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Oi’m thirsty. Me poor throat, dry loike de Starq-desert.” he stressed. “I would make tea meself but,” a soft whine and a quick hand motion towards his ankle.
Roswell placed his head against the headrest of his armchair. His fingers fidgeted with the book on his lap. Some sappy romance book, one he’d read a thousand times already. A story that he loved. But now? All Roswell could feel was boredom. His fingers drummed.

“Isolde?” he said. In a different tone than the nagging and pestering he’d done before. He looked at her again, but this time his brows formed a frown. “Can yer tell me about yer? A story?” he said. His lips slightly twisted. He sounded like a spoiled scrawly brat, and Roswell was aware of it. Still he persisted. “Oi know de things de tabloids spout. Yer superb crêpes Suzettes, yer mastery of music.” He leaned his arm on the leaning and turned his entire frame her way.
“But what about yer? Yer family? Yer got any?” Roswell leaned his head on his hand and drummed his fingers on his chest. “ ‘nd yer almost done with dat tea roi? I am still starvin’ over ‘ere.” 
--

hqdefault.jpg


THIS IS AMAZING, thank you

 Gabriel Gomji

fizzelston

^ (waaa tysm, I'm glad!!   )

Gabriel eyed Roswell suspiciously with his arms crossed. 

Hm. There was something odd about how Roswell was behaving, how accommodating he was when agreeing to follow Gabriel's orders. Perhaps he finally decided to abandon his life of thievery and tricks and turn over a new leaf. The very thought made the angel raise a brow, but he shrugged it off, convinced that the thief was a changed man. Maybe he wanted to do something nice, you know? Helping out an angel for a start. Good for him. 

Gabriel assigned a task to Roswell, which was to organize some documents,. Knowing how time-consuming it could be, the angel made his way to the kitchen to grab a drink for him. While Roswell was the one who willingly offered to help Gabe, he felt a little bad for making him do something so boring. As he made his way to the copy room, Gabriel opened the door, expecting to see the lad hard at work--

except he wasn't there. The guy was gone, and so was his wallet (and perhaps other small valuables), but Gabriel didn't notice yet. 

Damn.


np: Gabe is good at following orders, but will do so with annoyance. 

Dan Test PicklePantry

     "Give me your teeth."

     No.

     "Give me your teeth."

     No.

     "One tooth?"

     No.

     "What the FUCK is the point of you working for me then?!"

     Dan huffed, blowing a stray strand of hair away from his face. The nerve of this angel coming down and offering to be of any help to him today. He knew full well the truth of the matter, the ache in his wings told him why. Gabriel was here to keep an eye on him. Halloween was coming, after all, and with it always came a rise in cavities and dental work. Was it his fault? No, not anymore at least. But who's to say he didn't have a hand in assuring kids that eating lots and lots of sugar-filled candy was okay for just that one night?

     "If you're going to sit here and help without actually helping me, then here." Dan unceremoniously shoved a clipboard into Gabriel's hands. "One of my receptionists called in today. You can take over. It's no different than what you're used to. You might actually do well against the angry parents. By the way, one of them will be here in a bit. They're late on their payment for braces. Kid doesn't get adjustments until the payment is done."

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Cerys Finch HardyLark

"Hmph, and here I was hoping I wouldn't have to show you how to do anything." The councilor gripes from where she limps beside Leon, leading him into the City Council building. It would look to be an odd arrangement, Councilor Finch provided an assistant for the day, a musician of all things. Leon would not have been Cerys' first choice, but this was the easiest way for her to observe him. Perhaps unbeknownst to most would be Leon's own involvement as a criminal, and Cerys being a well-known informant for the underground of Sollion. Alas, the walk to her office was not the place to speak of such things, and she was certain Leon knew that.

Still, she wished that there was a simpler way for her to figure out if this man was worth the time, or if his lips would be a little too loose for her liking. Either way, he would be here for the day and that was that. Cerys waves him absentmindedly into her office. Inside, most of the decor seems reminiscent of a museum, most of the picture frames filled with dusty photographs of what look to be old expeditions, and others maps and transcripts. There are a couple of desks in the room as well, one has papers scattered across it, not entirely messy but certainly busy-looking. The other is well-organized and looks like it hasn't really been used for a while. In fact, upon closer inspection, it is covered in a thin layer of dust, and a few cobwebs stretch from where it rests in the corner to the bookshelves full of heavy leather-bound books and binders. The mage councilor presses further into the room, taking care to close the door behind her. She gestures to the dusty desk, handing Leon a handkerchief. 

"That'll be your desk for today, I should have a few pens for you to use. Let me know if they don't work and I'll provide you with another." She says in a clipped and formal tone, only pausing to watch Leon before turning back to her own desk. She's mostly silent as she scoops up a pile of papers and sets it on the desk next to Leon, scattering any dust he hadn't caught before she got to him. "I am aware that this isn't your typical wheelhouse, Mr. Hyde." Cerys hums, before pulling out the chair and motioning for him to sit. "Regardless, before I can provide you with anything, I need you to understand the more legal side of what I do." She moves around him to the bookshelf, reaching and pulling a hefty binder and slapping it onto the desk as well.

"Those papers are invoices and notices to the city." The councilor takes a moment to demonstrate just what Leon will be doing for the day, before smiling. It could be a wolfish thing, eager to see him fail, but there's also a hopefulness to it. Hopeful that maybe this would be a new ally. "I do plan on monetarily compensating you for the time, aside from the other arranged agreements we may have." She limps back to her desk, brushing pages back into a more tidy pile.

"For both our sakes, please do try to keep everything correct. I will be right here if you have further questions." Cerys nods as she settles down and pulls out her own pen and focuses on the paperwork, an eagerness to get the work done clear. 


Truth be told, Cerys had been a little more careful around Fabricio after her last meeting with his debonair guardian. It would be for the best to avoid any reasoning that Ren might gain for spilling what he knows. Aside from that though, the councillor's fondness of Fabricio seems for the most part genuine. It was rare, after all, for someone so young to have the kind of skill she'd seen from him and his creations thus far. She would pause from where she'd been flipping through a folder on her desk and glance up at Fabricio and the box offered her.

She opens it with little fanfare, her eyebrows immediately shooting upwards when her eyes land on the ring. She sets the box down, steepling her fingers over her mouth, and focuses sternly on the young man in front of her. Her expression says she doesn't believe him or his boyish smile, too familiar with it from her past. There's a slow breath that eases out of her mouth and ignoring the dilemma of just where Fabricio got the ring, she pulls a few items from her desk, namely tweezers and an eye loupe. 

The councillor hums at Fabricio's observations as she picks up the ring to examine up close, nodding along to what he's saying before ultimately looking back up at the young man and setting the ring back in the box. 

"Well, you certainly came to the right professional for it at the very least. There aren't many archeologists in my field who have experience in the field with this sort of thing." she taps the box, before taking the eye loupe and setting it back on the desk as she pushes herself to her feet, gripping her cane as she moves to her bookshelf.

"Unfortunately, it's as you mentioned. There's no ID engraving to give us an easy answer, so it's not something I'll be able to just... stare and tell you all about it. However," the woman begins to tug a few books from the shelf and hands a couple to Fabricio. "I'm certain that I've seen a similar make of this in some written account I have in my collection. It may not be the exact same ring but it should narrow down just where it came from." She says slowly, taking the books she hadn't handed to Fabricio to the desk and setting them next to the box.

"Ah, but I did mean to ask. This is a wedding ring, from what I can tell. Would you happen to know who it might belong to? Genealogical information on how it was passed down from individual to individual can tell us a whole lot more than hoping we find something in these records."

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