#. ̗̀ 𖧧 ̖́ 𖥸 ─ rp

[kkkindered]

@of-elitiism inquired ;

[ Marcus ] The workday has come to an end about a hour prior to the moment he'd dared to knock at her door. He hadn't been around this half of the campus in a while so, admitedly, it did feel slightly intrusive to wonder around , checking the plaque on every door as he searched for whom he was looking for. More than once he had to remind himself that he too taught at this school and he wasn't doing anything not allowed. When he'd finally came across her classroom there was a flicker of hessitation before he'd announced his presence with a knock.

"...Mrs. Sylva?" He called as he slowly pulled the door open. "Sorry to bother, i think someone must've made a mistake today. Is this yours?" A thick, heavy Claude Monet picture album was extended her way, Marcus carrying it with ease in his wide, strong grasp. "...someone left it in my office."

Delphine is packing away brushes and oils when someone knocks.

Finally done with a day of fielding questions and critiquing artwork. Falling into the routine of double checking oil containers, placing unused canvas back to their spot and placing unfinished works to dry. Something feels off, however.

Something is missing.

Though she hasn't glanced at the desk where her things are yet. She has a feeling that it'll feel lighter than it should.

The door hisses open as she turns off the sink tap. She turns and nods at the call of her name. ❝ Hello —,❞ a pause to remember the name, ❝ Mr. Visarion. ❞

Brushes she was rinsing clink against the sink basin. Delphine steps from the sink and drags her hands along the apron still around her hips. He gets a once over. She has glimpsed him when she had first been assigned in to the school to get acquainted to the staff.

Taller than her.

Eyes leave his crown to look at his hands, stopping before him.

Something was missing.

❝ No bother. Thank you. ❞ Waving away the words.

She takes the album and flips through it. Counting the pages to ensure none are missing.

All here.

She looks up at the man again, ❝ A student had a class after mine and asked to look through it before school ended. It seems like he forgot to return it. Again, thank you. ❞

[kkkindered]

Something akin to dread finds its way at the back of Zara’s throat when they hold her hand. She freezes. Breath hitching as she stares at their joined hands. Lips tugging down to a frown at his words and the predicament she put herself in. Again.

“ Intact but not working. ”

Are they going to rip it off? Twist it? Would they twist it all the way 'round? Three-sixty?

Her eyes grow misty at the sudden cold. Dread getting thicker. Coating her palate. She thinks her hands are going to start shaking soon.

“ W-what? Place something in me? ” Her eyes widen. If she wasn’t terrified of her hand detaching—Zara would have jerked at the feeling of something against her palm.

Its gross. Why is it moving? What is that? What do they mean in her?

“ Can't we just use a ph—one or something? ” They're listing these things without care. What the fuck? Threaten? Her life is a damn threat to itself. Hear them? So she's going to go mad.

This is great.

Of course she'd be the one to enter a deal with a monster.

Though what else did you want from her? Either this or die. Well. They did say dying would've been better, didn't they.

She can't go proving them right now. That's just embarrassing.

Distantly, Zara wonders who blighted her for her life to turn out this way. What crime did she commit that left her homeless and then trapped in a corner? She's sure Zara of the past couldn't have been as bad as her now.

Requests?

Her teeth unlatch from her lip, “ Little complaint? I must tell you I complain like no other, you'd hate to do this. Think about— ” Her voice chokes off.

Her back bows. Leaning forward instead of away at the last moment at the feeling of something digging. It's constant. Through skin and whatever stringy bits that come before bone.

She sniffles in pain. The pain isn't extraordinary, but it is intruding. This thing bullying its way past carefully placed anatomy out of mindless gluttony? greed?

A crease of pain flashes again. Right before, it's just a dull, strange ache. There is only so much one can do when something is making home in you.

The cold is back. It's soothing this time instead of striking. It's all-encompassing instead of a distant chill.

She chances a look. Eyes red rimmed, nose a bit runny and a frown carved on her lips. A bit pain dazed and entirely pissed, “ It was fucking horrible. ”

A beat.

“ Thanks for the place. In advance. ”

The moment their skin meets, the creature's nails curl upwards, clasping around her hand like a sprung trap. Talons press into her flesh, not enough to hurt but enough that if she was to try snatch her hand away it could hurt. "Harsh but fair, little moth." They taunt. "But if you wish for me to praise you, I suppose I could say that your instinct to survive is quite intact."

It's unclear if the god means the words positively, despite trying to phrase it as praise. Regardless they carry on unperturbed. "Right, right. The terms." Icy shadows lap at her hand. The tendrils hovering around her as if waiting for some sort of command. "I shall place something within you. Something that will tether you to me."

Said 'thing' begins to pierce the veil of the god's hand, a creature not from this realm. The mass writhes desperately between their hands, bucking and squirming against the surface of her warmer flesh. "You will never be able to escape me. Every moment you live, my presence will threaten you. If I want you to hear me, you shall. When I come to see you. You will sense me."

"I will make requests of you every now and then. You, of course, will accept them with little complaint." They continue. It's around this time she would begin to feel something. The sensation is perhaps painful, but is clear whatever this creature is? It's madly burying into her skin, twisting itself in between muscle and sinew and making itself at home within her.

"I take care of my things, little moth. So, you will no longer be homeless." The talons dig deeper and once the creature has settled the shadows that had been on standby sweep in to sooth her flesh. Coldness washing over her hand.

It's strange though, there's no entry mark. No sign that the creature had ever been there. Except for occasional the flicker of a dark mass beneath the surface. "I will give you instructions of how to get a hold of my mouthpiece. He will give you room and board."

Pausing, the god assesses her face. "See, that wasn't so bad. Was it?"

[warekssy]

Rp bio için

𓏲࣪◜ ᶻᶻᶻ〃♡̷̷ ✧ཻུ۪۪ϟ 𖥸 ೃೀ. 𖠺 𖡎 ࿇ 𖡟 𖣔 〄 𖡹 ꥟ ༗ ࿈ ༯ 𖡄 𖡊 𖣐 𖠞 ༔ ༤. ࿑ ෴ ༄ ༅ ༆ ༇ ༉ ༊ ༒ ༈ ༏ ༡. ༢. ༴ ༱ ༮ ༳ ◌﹆⌇ヾ ⿻ ະ̽▹ ｡⃟⸼ᝲ⃟‹ْ ࿄ ࿅ ࿇ ࿈ ࿉ ࿐ 𖤈 𖤉 𖤊 𖤋 𖤌 𖤍 𖤎 𖤏 𖤐 𖤑 𖤒 𖤓 𖤔 𖤕 𖤖 𖤗 𖤘 𖤙 𖤚 𖤛 𖤜 𖤝 𖤞 𖤟 𖤠 𖤡 𖤢 𖤣 𖤤 𖤥 𖤦 𖤧 𖤨 𖤩 𖤪 𖤫 𖤬 𖤭 𖤮 𖤯 𖤰 𖤱 𖤲 𖤳 𖤴 𖤵 𖤶 𖤷 𖤸 𖤹 𖤺 𖤻 𖤼. 𖤽 𖤾 𖤿 𖥀 𖥁 𖥂 𖥃 𖥄 𖥅 𖥆 𖥇 𖥈 𖥉 𖥊 𖥋 𖥌 𖥍 𖥎 𖥏 𖥐 𖥒 𖥓. 𖥔 𖥕. 𖥖 𖥗 𖥘 𖥙 𖥚 𖥛 𖥜 𖥝 𖥞 𖥟 𖥠 𖥡 𖥢 𖥣 𖥤 𖥥 𖥦 𖥧 𖥨 𖥩 𖥪 𖥫 𖥬 𖥭 𖥮 𖥯 𖥰 𖥱 𖥲 𖥳 𖥴 𖥵 𖥶 𖥷 𖥸 𖥹 𖥺 𖥊 𖥋 𖥌 𖥍 𖥎 𖥏 𖥐 𖥑 𖥒 𖥓. 𖥔 𖥕. 𖥖 𖥗 𖥘 𖥙 𖥚 𖥛 𖥜 𖥝 𖥞 𖥟 𖥠 𖥡 𖥢 𖥣 𖥤 𖥥 𖥻 𖥼 𖥽 𖥾 𖥿 𖦀꒲ ♡ ⃕⎙⸒༅ 𖦁 𖦂 𖦃 𖦄 𖦅 𖦆 𖦇 𖦈 𖦉 . 𖦊 𖦋 𖦌 𖦍 𖦎 𖦏 𖦐 𖦑 𖦒 𖦓 𖦔 𖦕 𖦗 𖦘 𖦙 𖦚 𖦛 𖦜 𖦝 𖦞 𖦟. 𖦠 𖦡 𖦢. 𖦣 𖦤 𖦥 𖦦 𖦧 𖦨 𖦩 𖦪 𖦫 𖦬 𖦭 𖦮 𖦯. 𖦰 𖦱 𖦲. 𖦳 𖦴 𖦵 𖦶. 𖦷 𖦸𖦹. 𖦺 𖦻 𖦼 𖦽 𖦾 𖦿 𖧀 𖧁 𖧂 𖧃. 𖧄 𖧅. 𖧆. 𖧇 𖧈 𖧉 𖧊 𖧋 𖧌 𖧍 𖧎 𖧏 𖧐 𖧑 𖧒 𖧓 𖧔 𖧕 𖧖 𖧗 𖧙 𖧚 𖧛 𖧜 𖧝 𖧞 𖧟 𖧠 𖧡 𖧢 𖧣 𖧤 𖧥 𖧦 𖧧 𖧨 𖧩 𖧪 𖧫 𖧬 𖧭 𖧮 𖧯 𖧰 𖧱 𖧲 𖧳 𖧴 𖧵 𖧶 𖧷 𖧸 𖧹 𖧺 𖧻 𖧼 𖧽 𖧾 𖧿 𖨀 𖨁 𖨂 𖨃 𖨄 𖨅 𖨆 𖨇 𖨈 𖨉𖨊 𖨋 𖨌 𖨍 𖨎 𖨏 𖨐 𖨑 𖨒 𖨓 𖨔 𖨕 𖨖 𖨗 𖨘 𖨙 𖨚 𖨛 𖨜 𖨝 𖨞 𖨟 𖨠 𖨡 𖨢 𖨣 𖨤 𖨥𖨦. 𖨧 𖨨 𖨩 𖨪 𖨫 𖨬 𖨭 . 𖨮 𖨯 𖨰 𖨱 𖨲 𖨳 𖨴 𖨵. 𖨶 𖨷 ゐ ₆⁶₆ 〔〕ミ↝↬⇄ﾐ〈〉↯ →｡✰彡 ⚘ ✎ ➥【】↰ ↯↧↡⇊❝❞❛❜❬❭꒰࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

[kkkindered]

continued from x | @royaletiquette |

K'in hums. Doing a quick once over as he straightens himself. He's shorter than her. Not by much but she wonders if he'd notice. It'll answer some questions if he did. What he's like. What he seeks from this.

Sure, he probably isn't the one that proposed for this engagement but he could still have expectations. It would fill in blanks on how they should act around him. Aside from the actual indifference and lack of trust.

But he seems harmless.

As harmless as a man walking around with (probably) an inflamed ego and cuff links shiny enough to match it.

They admittedly don't know much about this kingdom. Not having much time to do more than find out the names of the King, Queen and their heir before being swept away in a carriage. The kingdom seems to be losing favour with their people as well. Maybe the engagement is meant to mend that?

How? They don't know. Or maybe they'll be used to absorb their prince into their kingdom? Unlikely. This kingdom seems to traditional for that. Especially given how weak the magic here.

They have their own moment of spacing out. Running an absent hand down their corset. The journey was hardly exhausting. A snack would not hurt and they could pick for answers.

They glance at the guard and advisor; maybe a bit more privately.

“Lunch would be lovely, thank you.” They walk towards him a bit. “If you'd guide the way.”

[kkkindered]

@astra-stellaris asked;

「 ― Antares' fist clench in his outer robe and he stares at her ― he lifts his hands to his face and clears the tears off of it and then turns to walk away from her. There's not another sound from him. Whether she knows it or not, he's done.

He's doing his best to rehabilitate his daughter and teach his son that what happened to her is wrong. He's doing his best. He was manipulated, and in a way, he was a victim, too. And he's tired of pretending that he doesn't have emotions about it all.

This is the first time that he's cried for himself.

His tears for Astra were that of despair, but from him, it's because he's completely broken. He can't do any more than what he is, and he's tired of seeing that look on Onyx's face that tells him that he's perpetually wrong.

Maybe it will hurt her, but he's tired of pretending that every moment should be one of repentance. He wants to live. He wants his daughter to live. He's tired of it. ― 」

Onyx stares.

Watching him turn. Hearing the footfalls as he gets further away. Her hand twitches. She wasn't done. Astra almost relapsed. He has to know. Where is he going?

Get back.

Stand here.

Hear what you did wrong.

She never says it. Hand flexed in the air, just starting to leave her side. Nose flared— salt? Her teeth are grinding. What just happened? Why is she smelling salt.

She knows. The only logical answer. Tears. Why? Why is he crying? They've passed the stage of his guilt, leaving him sobbing and drooling on the floor over mistakes he's made.

What.

Her body moves after that. Chest feeling tight, and her gums ache from a particular rotation. Catching up to him easily. She keeps her hands to herself. Something telling her that it's the best option at the moment.

Her teeth unclench, “Antares—” something in her throat moves and the sentence falls flat.

She doesn't think he noticed— over the tears. OVER THE TEARS ?

Tries again.

“Antares,” her throat is clear, “I was not done. Come back- here.”

He should hear that one. The intensity- emotion ?- behind it rings her own ear, raw.

He should— still walking? — she follows.

They aren't done. 

[kkkindered]

She's shuffling out of her jeans, ❝ I'm not that lonely. I'm talking to someone right now. ❞

She doesn't know how to respond to his example — warning? — it's so graphic.

She doesn't watch the news as often anymore. Late shifts to cover the cut of her rent that her landlord mercifully allowed leaves her dead tired, and she doesn't need nightmares on those nights. ❝ Her poor family. There's really sick people out there, huh? ❞

A grimace.

❝ You'd protect me won't you? ❞ A joke.

A four - eyed, forty year old accountant protecting her from the big cruel word? It sends the beginnings of a giggle up her throat.

❝ But thanks, you sounded really worried in those texts. I came back in one piece, didn't even break a nail. ❞ He's sweet on her even with no actual date yet, accounting is a busy job, so sue her for liking the affection.

Ezra didn't really notice the change of attitude throughout the phone. He was living a scenario in his head right now, where he could sneak inside her apartment and probably watch her sleep. 

"Oh, why?" He was genuinely confused, getting up to walk to his kitchen and grabbed his freshly brewed tea. In his hand, there was another phone, where a little processor inside was gathering tons of information about her. 

"I haven't thought about straw getting in someone's eyes... That's strange." He frowned, and eventually walked back to his office. "I'm more concerned about the things happening outside. A girl was kidnapped the other day... They found her dismantled in several pieces, half-eaten by the stray cats." A sigh, Gambit blew on his steaming tea. "Terrible news. That's why... A lonely girl like you should be careful." 

[kkkindered]

@lured-into-wonderland inquired ;

[ AWKWARD ]: after a particularly rough first encounter, the sender meets the receiver again, and awkwardly greets them with more than a touch of embarrassment. for Kio in mafia au

from here. [ A C C E P T I N G ]

It's times like these that Kio wonders if he seems nicer than he actually is.

His hair is a mess. Up and out in directions, he knows that aren't agreeing with physics. Bonnet half off his head, and his eyes are barely opened to begin with. Stripped bare save for the basketball shorts that are hanging off of his hips.

He's had a long two days. Hasn't slept. He isn't counting the three hours he just had. Those weren't seamless. Interrupted by ceaseless knocking that he would have ignored if it wasn't for the headache it would cost.

Playing clean up for a princess that runs her mouth and promptly forgets is tiring. Him warming under ego boosters will always steer him wrong. She seemed sorry enough. Sure. But it didn't clear him from running around wild making amends.

❝ Hi. ❞ It's gruff from sleep.

It was any more awake he'd settle the prissy princess with a glare but he isn't so he shifts away from crowding the door to make space.

At least she has the decency to feel ashamed knowing how sideways their first meeting went.

He gives up on waiting to see if she enters and moves entirely from the door. Sulking his way to his couch and setting himself down heavily. She had better. He doesn't think he has it in him to get back and walk back over there.

Arm slung over his eyes.

A long start to a long day.

❝ What happened? Are you hurt or somethin’? ❞

[kkkindered]

@infernal-ism demanded ;

tired eyes tightened into narrowed slits , knocking away those hands reaching for Beltu ⸻ always , always reaching for Night like a child outstretching arms to a figure of trust and care. they aren't capable of providing anything but rough gestures and blunt speech. those hands swept away from him are grabbed and observed more closely. these were good hands; they were the hands of a warrior , rough and calloused toward a firm grip. ❝ if you're going to use the time you should be sleeping staring at me , pick up that sword and follow me. ❞ armored claws dug into the roughness of her palms , slicing through said skin like butter under a heated knife and drew them to his lips almost immediately to suck away the blood. walking to the temple entrance , he cast his gaze out and then turned it over his shoulder towards her. the bloodied smile didn't reach his eyes , but there was amusement in them. ❝ I won't ask again. ❞ he'll scoop her up by the back of her shirt like a wayward lion cub and they'll have to patrol weaponless if they feel so inclined to be unkind.

They feel a bit distraught at the rejection. Unsure to even why their hands strayed from their knees to reaching for the god.

Beltu, in his shimmering elegance. Heady aura. Steady presence that demands a certain type of reverence K'in doesn't think they could muster from even the purest soul - or maybe there simply isn't a soul pure enough. Eyes dart from those startling reds to the headdress that adorns her then back again. Their mind, even while not being contained by simple thinking, can't seem to process this divinity while or while not staring.

Their hands were gripped. Shoulders raise to meet their ears out of shame. It's one of those things that fades into the back of their until it's too late to hide it away. They wouldn't dare yank away their hands, very much attached to the limbs even with the muted chagrin brought with the forced display. Breathing stilted as the Queen awaits the results of the god's evaluation.

❝ ... ❞ A shuddering breath echoes out of their chest.

Golden irises catching on the sword in the corner.

❝ Ow — ❞ They whimper.

Attention splintering through the pain to eye the god again. Heart rabbiting in their chest as they're dragged up and -- Oh.

Those lips.

On their skin.

They feel faint.

Eyes wide as they watch him walk to the entrance. Their blood stained on his face as she give them an ultimatum. The royal doesn't have half a mind to feel embarrassed at the way they skid while collecting the sword to follow behind.

[kkkindered]

Delta is hurt. A gash among his iridescent scales. The water, clear, is now tainted red. It feels a bit bad for messing up the water. He'd feel even more guilty if he could focus on the water instead of the wound on his tail.

He was being reckless. Too excited with getting accustomed to the stream to take in account of the rough river floors. The water is fresh. Tastes clean and pure.

He can't be blamed for twisting with the current. His tail snagging on a sharp rock was simply a bad coincidence.

But now he's beached. Half his body leaning onto the river's bank while he winces at his wound. The water is clean and calm so it doesn't sting anymore than any other shallow wound would.

“Awh man.” It whines and flips his tail in annoyance. “I just wanted a nice swim.”

@nezumivc103221

[kkkindered]

At that, Kio glances down at Kisumi's legs. Covered by his pants but he imagines the sculpted muscle that must be there given his job. He was never much or a sports person.

Going to a game of any kind was more of a social event to him then to actually indulge in watching. To accompany a friend just to spend time with them.

Kio raises a hand to mime zipping his lips.

New friend. New secrets. He's getting fed. He hasn't found a reason to bite this hand. “ I have no reason to tattle. You have my word. ” He watches their drinks be made and craves the sweet treat he ordered a bit more.

“ I can watch one your games. I won't know what's going on but a pretty sight is a pretty sight. ” He couldn't hold back the flirt. Not that he tried too hard. Kisumi is pleasant. Open and easy to read. It's hard not to replicate the feeling. Even just a bit.

“ I'm an interior designer. If you need help decorating a space, you can call me. If thus shopping trip goes well I can give you my number. ”

Kisumi took note of Kio’s a little unusual coffee order before nodding in appreciation of his cake choice. Kisumi waited patiently as he turned his head to look directly at Kio.

“Ah, promise you won’t tell?” Kisumi asked as he looked pleased to have a secret.

Kisumi smiled, “I figured you didn’t recognize me earlier. “I’m a pro athlete. I play basketball.” Kisumi explained. He wasn’t as tall as most players so he didn’t stand out too much in a crowd. It also was why he was looking for nice shoes. They always had them dress immaculate for press conferences during the pre and post game. Whenever he was in pubic chances were he might get photographed. He had to keep up with appearances.

It’s also why he didn’t mind picking up the tab.

“What do you do Kio?” He asked thinking he might not be interested in his sport, some people he met weren’t sports people at all. He didn’t want to bore him with any additional details if that were the case.

[kkkindered]

@lured-into-wonderland inquired;

[ FAKE ]: alternatively, the sender (who has just been crying in private) hastily wipes away their tears and tries to greet the receiver casually (to varying degrees of success). for K'in

from here. [accepting.]

The heir is sipping on champagne. Lounging near the corner of the hall. Just back from squabbling with a maid over a hair piece that fell. They don't expect her to find it now. After is more appropriate. They want it back regardless.

Simply scouring through the crowd to see how everyone is mingling. Dukes and Duchess. Court hands that were handpicked to represent their kingdom in the absence of the royalties.

The King has retired for the night, leaving the guests to mingle and entertain themselves. And making K’in have no reason to still be at this banquet. There is no reason to endure the whispered complaints of a mutt being here or ignore the shoulders bumping into their shoulder.

Though.. she can't leave before her brother.

So she prevails. Taking refuge in the halls corner. It's quiet enough. They can zone out while staring at their sparkling body jewellery and calm down.

Well they should be.

There's an ugly sniffle far away behind them that it makes their floppy ears dip down to their cheek. Truly, who cries at a banquet? Sure, your husband probably leered at one of the maids, but must you cry?

Their heels click against polished tike to reach the source of the sound. It echoes throughout the hall. Giving enough time for the person to clean themselves up by the time she gets there.

It wasn't enough, apparently.

They stand there and stare. Face smudged and blotched pink and messy. Here stands the esteemed fiancé of their brother. Eyes red and swollen, and still, she tries to clean herself up. It's useless, but they can understand the feeling to do so.

They wave off her wobbly greeting with a wave of their hand. Looking down at her, she's pretty. What did Shiloh to make a pretty girl cry?

( Father's going to hate this. )

“ Nunally. What happened? Did Shiloh do something? ”

[kkkindered]

“It's so dusty.”

K'in complains after a sneeze disoerients them. Around them is dark, small candles on the wall light a minimal way for them. They dust off their pants and tug at their vest. Thankfully they didn't choose a white one. The amount of dust floating in the air would target them like a bee to honey. 

There's books floor to cieling. Stacked upon one another. Uneven and leaning to one side. The shelves of books seem to tower beyond what K'in can percieve and they get a sinking feeling that they're going to be here for a while. 

“Start..on the left?”

The royal sighs and walks to the nearest shelf and settles into a crouch. Sticking their hand into the dust filled pile. A grimace spreads across their lips when they pull the book back. The dust seems to get under their nails and they sigh a again. A brief skim through book to find out it isn't what they came for. 

The cycle repeats. 

Hours pass. They think so at least. Dust spots decorate their pant's knee. Given up on crouching and peering into the shelves to sitting or kneeling in front of stacks. Picking up book after book and flippig through to see if a word seems relevant to them.

They're tired. Her nose is sore from all the sneezing.

“I can't find anything..oh fuck me.”

They complain as they drop a book off to their side. Pouting as they reach for another. 

Their right ear twitch; picking up on a sound they can't process. They pause. Shrug and deposit the book in their lap after another sneeze. They prepare to start flipping through when their ears twitch again; both this time.

Ears tilted up and frozen they glance to their right and see something move. It was a quick movement. They almost missed it.

Almost ignore it but it happens again.

“Ahh!”

And the book is thrown in that general direction. They scramble to their feet, lips curled back and they are already huffing.

“I didn't come prepared to fight— please be small.”

@nezumivc103221

[kkkindered]

Starter for @nezumivc103221 l from Delphine

Dusk was just settling in over the city. The bar is quiet still. A bit more full but not quite packed. Just yet. It's a Thursday. People aren't running away from work with a buzz like they do on Fridays.

The people watching is good. There's a newly broken up couple in the corner. A man who can't handle the strength in his glass in another. A girl flirting with the uninterested bartender.

Delphine eyes roam the room. Nothing piques her interest. She's been here every Thursday. After a long painting lesson and dealing with people who pay her just to be difficult. Fulfilling but no less draining.

She sips from her damp glass, ice melting. She doesn't remember what she ordered. Something new for the new day; doesn't think she likes it. It's sticky but not sweet.

Someone new.

She doesn't know when this person got there. Tight ponytail. Looks like it'd bounce if the effort was put. Strong shoulders. Broad but not too intimidating. Nice posture. Even while hovering over their drink.

Whiskey.

Delphine digs and finds her sketch book. Tugs out a single page out along with a sharpened pencil. The sketch comes together quickly. Her model is still for the most part. They've turned a few times enough for her to see a side profile and she chances to sketch that as well.

Before long, she's up. Her glass in one hand, sketch in another and slides into the seat next to the stranger.

“Hello,” sliding the paper towards them, “thank you for sitting so still. You have a nice back view.”

[kkkindered]

Delphine smiles at the permission. Stepping towards the side of the bench, he's left unoccupied. Legs crossed and turned to him slightly. She's done many of portraits of people from afar. Many up close as well for her classes but never in much detail as she's attempting today. Charcoal maybe isn't the best thing for her to be trying this with — can't erase much there but it's fine.

She can always hope to find him again to redeem herself, can't she? “ Only if I can see yours. ” A joke but she would like to see what he's doing.

She starts with his shape. Head. Then his neck. Shoulders. The turtleneck he's wearing and the beginning of the collar on his coat as well.

Now; fill the blank space.

The rounded tip his nose. His lips. There's some tension there that Delphine doesn't think she can replicate. The charcoal is too harsh. The tip of it dull and and no longer sharp from her previous sketching. Not close enough to a bin to risk shaving it down.

Another time. Eyes. For moment she stares at him. Slight glare to his glasses. He has nice eyes. She wonders if he'll take them off, just for a bit.

“ Uhm — ” never got his name, she will fix that “ —hi again. Can you take off your glasses? Just for a bit so I can draw your eyes. As well, may I have your name? ”

He almost doesn’t realise he’s being spoken to, until he glances up again and notices someone looking at him. With his eyes widened slightly in surprise, Cassander stiffens before he can help it.

He’d be close to a deer in headlights if his mouth doesn’t catch up with his brain.

“Oh. Yeah. I mean — no. I don’t mind.”

He waves one hand ambiguously, trying to signal it was fine even through his mild sense of embarrassment. He never felt good being the focus of someone’s attention for too long — but it would be hypocritical to not give her the same opportunity he has, looking into the crowd.

“Knock yourself out.” His eyes drop down to the black smudges on her hands, the matching little black stick, and he can’t help a spark of curiosity.

“Oh, you’re using charcoal? You mind if I take a look when you’re done?”

[kkkindered]

"  𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇   𝐎𝐑   𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒  “ Marcus leaning against the doorframe, mug of coffee in hand, patiently waiting.

❝ Smash. ❞ She's a bit giddy over it. His stare is heavy. He always looks at her. ❝ If you'll have me, of course ❞ She should draw him like that.

‘ smash or pass ’ - accepting.

[kkkindered]

[ Marcus ] Slowly approaches the lady with a small smile on his lips while holding his white elephant gift, a coffee mug that had printed on it "please don't make me adult today" [ he doesn't get the reference, but hey, it's the thought the counts right? ] "Mrs Silva~" he acknowledged her curtly with a slight bow before joining her side to observe the niceties their school colleagues are sharing. There's decorations, carols playing in the background, a few treats here and there... it's quite a pleasant atmosphere after the agitation before winter break.

"I've been meaning to give you something. In the spirit of the season and all," he mentioned, grabbing an envelope from his back pocket and offering it to her. It's a fairly generous gift card for a well known beauty store that a lady like herself could perhaps put to good use. Perhaps it's not the best gift ever, but he tried. "Happy Holidays, Delphine."

Delphine watches the man approach from above the feathered fan she had traded for. Her hair only accepts high quality gifts, as thoughtful as the bonnet Ms Crosby had gifted her was it wasn't satin. So she snuck the large-ish feathered folding fan from the unattended table.

She is satisfied with her steal and looks forward to being satisfied with her quick coming company.

❝ Mr. Visarion, ❞ greeting returned, and she closed the fan. It became standard to find him standing at her side. Delphine is finding that she quite likes it. She is tall, but he is taller. It's comforting to feel covered, even in such a small way.

He looks lovely.

Luscious hair in that low pony, his jeans, and a sweater that looks warm. Has she been eyeing him throughout the evening?

Yes.

Nerves does that. She's happy he approached her first, though. She would've waited after their routine walk to the car park to suggest he follow her to her car instead.

Maybe she made a dinner for two. Maybe there's a sketchpad page with his face drawn on it. Maybe the meat is rarer than she'd eat it in one plate.

Maybe.

❝ A gift? ❞

She wasn't expecting one.

This is nice.

The envelope is taken with a quiet type of care. She'll recognise the brand. Likes the perfumes found in the store and the pimple patches she buys are sold there as well.

She will find it lovely.

A breath, ❝ Thank you. ❞ The gift is tucked in front of her. Arms crossing underneath her bust.

❝ I have one for you too. ❞

A pause is taken and she rocks her weight to her other leg. ❝ It's at my home. If you're up for coming to get it— it's big. Two things. If you wish to. ❞