HOHOHO. So, I finally went about making one of these--and it's the first I've done, so I'm new to it but I'm also really excited to finally have a RP/awesome-whatever-else blog up. I feel I needed something where you guys could come and holler at my characters anyway since they're so unknown. ;; SO HERE WE GO: whatever you guys want to do on this entry, do it. <3 I'll reply as soon as possible and have whoever you want to toy with respond as best they can at the same pace. Paragraph style, shout-outs, through pictures or video and music--whatever you want. And even if someone has requested to RP with one character and you wanted the same person/deer, I have absolutely no problem with having two (or ten million) things going on at once with them. But also and lastly know that I'll probably be editing the little biographies down below a lot, so I apologize if this bumps up a lot on your track page. Deer and/or human. Other than that, go go go!
hercules rei gracemore
One of the more outgoing of this pact, Her is a self-declared pirate thanks to a thick and gritty love for the ocean--and more specifically, sailing. But aside from being content with ship terms and sword handling, she's a very down-to-earth being and wants nothing more than to make everyone happy. This can get her in trouble, too, however; she often forgets to look out for herself instead and can/has hurt people in the process. Overall, she's the happiest leader of this little family, bright and eager to find study or whatever else gets her sailor's accent going. Slow to anger or depress yet quick to befriend.
human Around 23. Chin-length, layered, brown hair with smokey eyes the same color. She has bangs going across her forehead in a feathered fashion. Her eyelashes are thick and black almost like a fawn's, and her choice of style is vintage--usually consisting of plentiful jewelry (hoop earrings and an engagement ring! <3) and stripes incorporated in the outfit somewhere. Hates heels and miniskirts, preferring boots and knee-length skirts or jeans.
deer Reindeer pelt, whisper mask, and peacock antlers. More detailed to the eyes is a Greek helmet combining both the last two layers. ( preview) Species-wise, she is a sitka deer, though her height and build is about average to a normal, adult white-tailed deer's.
code casimir kulpa
This Lithuanian is the fireball of the family; he has a attitude all his own that can come off as fun, offending, or oddly both, and this is only when he's sober. He does have a very striking personality, however: he loves nothing more than to talk about things he's educated on (like astronomy and minerals) and likes to share his culture with others. It's worth mentioning, too, that he has control over any type of stone and can summon golems, but he hides this from people he doesn't know. The only give-away are his eyes glowing green when these powers are being used. Lastly, he has an accent.
human Around 17. First and foremost is probably his hair--it's long on the left side and cut short on the right, and the layers are almost always gathered in a pony draped over his shoulder. It's color is a deep magenta and his eyes are a complimenting olive; that, and his skin has a bit of a bronze touch to it. He's on the shorter side around 5'5" but his street style clothing makes up for that. He favors ties, gloves, and ripped-up skinny jeans with tall converse.
deer A marsh deer, Code's build as a mammal is just a bit shorter and skinnier (though very well toned) than most of the other forest's. Although he's the smallest of these four characters, he makes up for it with a bold set: the red-striped pelt, the trumpet mask, and the beluga antlers. His tail, in more detail, is actually a ponytail the same color as his hair.
aiden mason king
Strange to say that Aiden is a transgendered name: it could be either a male or a female's, and the factual about that is uncanny considering Aiden is female, but brings herself off as a male by choice. This stems from the fact that she grew up to a mother dieing along the way after having birthed her baby brother; and since their father had long-since left, she had to raise the boy all on her own even by breastfeeding. For this reason, she became unexceptionably attached: and detached when he died of malnutrition and illness caused by their street-living, homeless and dirty. To her, it wasn't fair, so she decided to live her own, self-proclaimed "useless" life as the one her brother didn't get to have but with her same name. It's also thickly worth mentioning that she suffers from Alien hand syndrome on her right digits and palm thanks to an error in brain surgery attempting to fix epilepsy. Currently living somewhere in London with a steampunk, nebula-like life, she strives to find her place and understand confusion with a very sheltered, stubborn personality.
human Around 18. Aiden disguises herself as a male to help play an overbearing role in her life and history. Although, there are things she cannot hide: her anatomy, for the most obvious part, is attempted to be hidden beneath shirts that are too large; though for tighter things (like favored military jackets), she wraps her chest to help keep it flat and unnoticed. Her color scheme is like a jungle's: greens, reds, browns, burnt oranges, and whites, all in a like texture. And, as a man would have, her hair is cut short and is undoubtedly the best aspect of her lie framing sharp eyebrows that define an oddly beautiful male structure, with layered, gold colors sometimes played up by more pumpkin-hued highlights. Steampunk and accented by Victorian dressing without skirts. Both eyes are silver like perfect coins.
deer Axis deer. She bears the beluga mask slightly verified in mind towards a more warlike, gear-esque look, regular stag's antlers with candles, and the butterfly pelt. Her build and height is average to a normal stag's, although she shows signs of being a bit curvier than what a male deer's anatomy would. Her short tail is seemingly torn.
sortsand kai trevinger
Mysterious. It's very hard to explain Sort without having first introduced his history through story or something else, because it consists of a lot of Danish mythology and reason for a seemingly bi-polar habit. So I'll try and keep it understandable and short without spoilers by saying he has two "sides" to him, although at the current, he has absolutely no idea about his past self up until about a week ago when something occured. He used to be a straight-up, highly driven, and dirty guy that had a horribly obsessive and constant need to do anything concerning sex. As of now, however, he's the complete opposite and is a quiet individual that is still a closet "pervert", or so he shamefully calls it. Sleeping in the same room as him causes nightmares. He smokes and drinks, although little. Danish; he does speak perfect English with a thin accent.
human Around 24. His hair is jet black with very small hints of purple accents; two thin, long layers in the front that lie on his chest, the rest is shoulder-length and feathered. His bangs on the right side swoop just over his blue eyes. Two eyebrow piercings on his left brow and a lip piercing. As for how he dresses, it's pretty basic, and he leans towards darker clothes; long sleeves preferred most of the time. Quite frankly, he's unfairly attractive and tempting in appearance. ( preview)
deer Beluga pelt and orca mask with the default (black) antlers. Red deer; and being from this species means he is the tallest and more muscular of this four-membered, unrelated family. Though not overbearingly. His set is the same without any alterations to the original TEF setup other than the colors on the pelt being reversed, with black on bottom and white on top. |
((Yay C: I don't wanna be a
"Don't you want a jacket, Master? Rather nippy out... The temperature might drop..."
"Malware, I'll be fine. Promise. It'll get warm out... And I'll only be gone for a little while anyway."
He certainly wasn't fine now.
Nevertheless, the young man loved the early mornings, and the occasional walk that would go hand-in-hand with it. Although it really depended on the quality of his health on whether or not he would be restricted to his little garden out back (which was becoming rather wilted as of late) or able to take little strolls along the pathways outside his own estate. He wore what looked to be some formal wear, a long sleeved gray suit that buttoned up to the top of his chin for the added warmth it brought.
The annoying chest pains that he suffered had started up again, hence why he had suddenly taken a small turn to a nearby bench to catch his breath a bit, puffy clouds of air expelling from his lips. The cold weather didn't help as much, and it only contributed an added pallor to his already ghostly pale skin.
He discreetly put a hand to his chest, massaging the area around his heart carefully to help ease his own discomfort. A lock of fine, blonde hair fell over his left eye, which he quickly brushed away in mild annoyance.
His frail body shivered as the temperature seemed to lower, lips pursing in a mild wince as a sudden gust of wind blew against his hair.
Lovely.
Simply lovely.
He leaned back, closing his eyes a little, unaware of a an approaching presence along his pathway.
He kicked the pebble a bit
"Ah--sorry!" Code jogged over to the bench then, picking the stone up during his apology with a chuckle to try sugar-coating his accident. And accent.
Usually, there was nothing more to say. The other would excuse it and the strangers would go on with their lives. But Code was a bit more social than that, deciding to try and humor someone that he very vaguely assumed was cold. He'd wait to let him borrow that jacket his hands returned to until this was proven, though--and until they were more acquainted. Otherwise, he'd just come off as flirty. "Did that hurt...? I'm sorry, again," he repeated, flicking the stone away with half a sad smile. His left gloved hand rose from the warmth of its pocket to comb through the longer half of his deep-magenta hair, cocking his head.
"Can I make it up to you?"
It was a stupid little rock just barely hitting this guy. But Code was more energetic than usual and had a need to just talk, even if it came off as annoying. Was that so wrong?
Something cold on his
Crybaby eventually opened his eyes slightly, his eyelids flattering a bit at first.
"Huh... w-what..." he mumbled. He didn't recognize the place, where was he? But he couldn't really look around, feeling too tired and exhausted... even to do this.
He felt so weak. He still could feel it hammering in his head, the strong pain... really, really bothersome.
"W-where am I..." he asked weakly, turning his sleepy gaze towards Sort.
The rock-to-the-head had left
"Ah! Ah... Um... N-No... It's... It's okay... Ah... A bruise... Is there a bruise?!" he snapped his head up the red-head, noting a small, yet noticably dulling pain that started up in the side of his head. Great... Just great...
Out of all the days to forget your clotting factor...
Still, the throbbing ache on the side of his head may have been little more than his own imagination. Lord knew he could get rather paranoid when it came to his hemophilia. It was the main reason why he never really went out... Not alone, at least.
But not that many people were usually out in the early morning...
Despite his panic, the man's presence comforted him slightly. Perhaps it was the red hair... Bartleby certainly, as admitted to his own lover, that he had a bit of a thing for ginger colored locks. Or perhaps it was the simple, seemingly bubbly personality that radiated from him.
"Um... Just tell me if you see a mark... Please..." he replied, keeping his own olive green eyes away from the other's. Not out of shyness, really... Just his own social awkwardness.
His answer was half-hearted
In four steps he was where he needed to be: the medicine drawer. The top one of his dresser was full of scarce aids, the most plentiful being ibu profen and aspirin.
He shook maybe three out of one and put everything back, kneeling back beside Cry to hand that and the also-retrieved glass of water just as cold as the rag to him. "Will you take this?" Odd to give that as a question rather than an order of health, but he wasn't sure what hurt or if CB needed any. Being a nuisance was out of the question right now. "Are you okay...? I'm really sorry about the confusion, and our situation's just--a mess now, so... I sware I will take you back home as soon as you're able to stand! I'm not trying to steal you, or anything, I'm . . sorry."
A shrug. Cry might not even be listening, but he sat back in his chair with a creak to stare up at the bleak, dark ceiling anyway. That one light in the whole small room did little to illuminate anything and his appearance only looked all the more dark and misfit because of it's odd shadowing.
"Wonder what God wanted us to meet for, Crybaby..."
This was a whispered muse.
He understood. Having grown
Leave it to our flitty one to be overly observant like that.
It was probably too soon to be doing this, but Code first shrugged out of his now-unzipped jacket before going through with Faith's favor. "Well, first," he muttered, waving that around to drape it over the other's shoulders, "that." He kneeled over just a little bit to try and see through his hair, just to make the other feel better. Of course he couldn't see through it and therefore find any bruises, but he smiled and shook his head nonetheless while standing straight. "No bruises. In fact, I'd much rather like to compliment your eyes; I haven't seen ones the same color as mine yet."
He pointed to one of his eyes, letting both his own drift about the other as his lips parted slowly. A small gasp of same pleasure was chortled. "Oh, my God~! I think you're even shorter than me, too!"
That was very uncalled for, and he knew it the moment he'd let it slip. People were usually cautious about their height, but he was short himself and was completely blown away by the fact that he could finally look down to someone now. He loved it! It was a compliment, to him, but that was Code: stupid without thinking before he spoke.
The foreign object put around
"Ahum... Are you sure? Please... I... I'm rather... Ahm... Uh..." he searched for words, trying to find a proper adjective as he looked down to the hem of his shirt.
"Thank you..." he mumbled, feeling increasily awkward and uncomfortable, like the man was going to steal him away... or something, despite him being older.
That last little statement of his, however, let his eyes narrow a bit. "Yes... I'll admit that I am rather short, but would something such as that really define a judgement? You make it sound as if it's a godsend..." he rambled, not at all sure of the words spilling from his mouth.
He was far too concentrated on that goddamn little bit of pain in the side of his head... He would have known by now if it were bleeding. But really... bruises were far more deadly.
What was this? He slowly
He laid down again, closing his eyes.
"Thank you... and it's okay, I'm just glad you're better..." he said weakly. Crybaby knew Sort wasn't stealing him or something like that. He knew he wasn't lying... why should he.
He almost didn't hear Sort's last sentence any more while drifting into sleep. Yes... he wondered too. He had not expected to find a man on earth with an incubus in his inside. Yeah, what for?
But he was glad he had met him, he was nice... and now he had gained another friend.
His breath got heavier when he soon fell asleep after these last thoughts.
Code had feelings, too. With
But Faith was careful and seemingly frail. He wasn't stupid by any means--in fact, Code was very skilled in studies concerning earth more, and he had background of education. But that didn't have much to do with right now. In any case, he remained chipper; no reason to knee the bench just yet. The blond wasn't threatening at all. "It is. I'm very happy that you're short; because, if you hadn't noticed, so am I."
He took a step back. "I'll probably be going now, though. I can tell you think I'm a bastard, so--keep the jacket, alright?" He pat the bench twice with a genuine, sweet smile. No wonder people fell for him: that stupid face was a little too persuasive and refined in how it was elegantly built. If he wanted his way, he'd get it with the very same expression he was giving the other.
But he wanted Faith comfortable. "Hope you feel better," came his last few words. It was then that he started up continuing his way down the longer street, whistling quietly again in a hidden blush of embarassment.
Stupid first impression, and a stupid follow-up to it. It was how meetings normally went with him, but still... he was constantly reminded that he should probably tone everything down. Just a little, right...?
--
...If it was possible to become absolutely ill with guilt, Sort now was: because he admitted to being annoyed that Cry had taken his bed for sleep.
Rude! How could he think that?! Yes, his back was still sore, but Crybaby was his guest, and he needed the bed so much more than he did. He'd slept on the floor before; this was nothing different.
Standing again, mutely, Sort very carefully drew the blankets up and over the other to let him stay warm with beckoned slumber.
Things like this only ever happened in stories, to him. Never in his life had he expected that some boy would run into him, see his hell side, heal an obsessively-reopening wound, and then pass out on his bed. In his house. Weren't his parents worried or something...? He had no idea who Cry really even was, or where he lived.
Great.
...Great...
He'd forgotten that people in the same room as him always fidgetted in their sleep. Moaning, and sweating lightly--he gave people nightmares.
A mare's doing...
So it's true.
. . . Reluctantly, he left, standing just outside his room's door to sit in the tiny apartment's hall to act as guard. He and Cry were safer apart than together in just about every way, yet they were close now. For some unknown reason, some unreal bond... God, why? What's the point of this...? I'll just hurt him...
Sort pulled his knees up to his chest in a hug, letting his eyes drift shut. He was one of the rare people that could do this for hours without actually falling asleep--insomniac.
The only thing that mattered was that Cry rest without nightmares now. And that would happen.
Bastard? No, Bartleby didn't
He watched with dull, almost glazed over eyes as the stranger began to take his leave, and after a while, he got to his feet as well, despite the swimming bits and pieces of pain that swirled about his head. Really, it made him feel rather dizzy, like his was ready to topple over.
"Oh, please wait!" he called, taking a few uneasy steps in his direction, and taking off after him in a pathetically slow jog. He would admit that being cooped up in the house made him rather out-of-shape despite his own slim build, but coupling that with his poor health certainly didn't offer that good of a combination.
Finally, he managed to grab hold of his shoulder, gasping for breath despite the minimal distance that he had ran, a hand reaching up to clutch his chest as he spoke. "P-Please don't be o-offended by me! I-I am o-often paranoid about cuts and bruises. I'm a... a hemophilac, you see? A-And I've forgotten my medicine... So... So I'm sorry..." he stammered as he gasped and attempted speech, uneasily slipping the jacket back off to hand back to him, his own legs shaking terribly.
"H-Here. I'm fine... Ah... I never told you my name, did I? Ah... Master Bartleby. Or just Bartleby..." he introduced himself, leaving out his own first name, as only his closest of friends could call him by that.
((Uhm... I didn't know if you meant it to be ending or not... If it was, then I apologize ;; ))
(( omg not at all D8< MY RP
Thank god Code had known that it was Faith's hand that had grabbed his shoulder from behind--otherwise, out of a terrible instinct, he'd usually wheel around and have two fingers over the stranger's eyes. As a defense move. Nobody touched him and got away with it; usually, those digits would just go right into those eyes.
But this never happened. He knew Faith, if only by a thread.
He turned, slowing to a stop with those lips parted again in confused flattery as he gracefully watched the other bound after him.
He'd entitled himself as Master eventually. Master...? Where was he living that required him to dress that way? Intriguing.
He took his jacket back, all of his moves careful after Bartleby had admitted his condition. His first words were of concern, blinking, "I should probably check more thoroughly for a bruise, in that case--if you don't mind me having to need to touch your hair for it." Then he brought the other over to the nearest store just so that he could have him lean up against its outside wall, knowing and reading his physical signs of weakness just over standing and walking. "You really shouldn't be out here alone when it's cold and you're not set out to go for walks. It's dangerous." Just one chuckle as he started putting his light coat back on, mumbling, "Some dumb-ass could skip by and boot a rock at your head. I'm Code."
He could have given his own, full name, with his real entitlement via his station position and all, but he was far too smart to give something that important away. Besides, something that official would sound odd in his current tone: sweet and still apologetic. Weird how one could look as stunning as Code and still be motherly about things. He was always surprising people in this way.
((I WAS GONNA SAY... xD
He had to admit that he felt pretty damn ashamed of himself, of his own weaknesses. He was even more mortified by how he simply let himsel submit to him, letting the younger gently lean him against the cool stone, even colder than the air surrounding it, which made him flich a bit back in mild surprise.
No... He wasn't well enough to go out alone... But he had certainly felt okay earlier... Ah... That was how his own biological roller-coaster went. Up, down and all around~
"Th-Thank you..." he mumbled, still somewhat catching his breath, though in a much more subtle manner, if he could help it. If this had been any other man, he probably would have high-tailed it back home, no matter how much he felt like he would have passed out or fainted. This man, though... he had to admit that he seemed a tad different.
Perhaps it was the red hair. Yes, had to be the red hair...
"I'm usually not so careless with myself, I can assure you..." he muttered bitterly, letting the wall fully support him. "And... I felt well enough to go out... My doctor said it was okay... Perhaps I should have stayed home..."
Again...
He brought his mind back and pricked up his ears at the other's name. Code? Odd... but it certainly had a nice ring to it. "Code, a pleasure..." he has offered a little bow had he not been feeling utterly exhausted just now. Ah well, at least it was the thought that counts.
Great minds think alike. Code
Code bowed instead in the all-out way with a circling hand and bent arm, one foot behind the other--although his was a play on this Bartleby character having introduced himself as a Mister. "Well then, Your Majesty," he smiled.
His eyes sparkled brightly as he stood back up, moving closer to the blond's side in order to gently brush away blond hair. As much as he looked in quiet seriousness, he really couldn't see any bruising through it. But he talked as he kept searching, just as honestly worried about it now as Faith must have been. After all, he'd started it... "So, how come you get to wear such fancy clothing? It's too beautiful to be walking around with; I'd be afraid of getting something this pretty dirtied."
It was true, too. While he did wear something rather embroidered, detailed, and armored as the near-commander of his troops, it wasn't a comfortable sort of Victorian dress as his new acquaintance's was. All he could think about was wanting to give the still-panting one a whole lot of jewelry he'd made back at home that would match.
Oh, right--he'd come out here in the first place for beer, hadn't he? That could wait. Regardless, he tried a simple and casual, "Do you drink?" Whatever his answer, he could still walk Faith to the market with him. Not like he had to share it with a minor if he didn't want it. But he did have a craving; he'd gone without breakfast in his rush to fulfill that need.
He didn't know whether to be
As much as he would have hated to admit it, he really didn't mind the probing hands through his hair... Felt rather nice... Really... The motions probably would have put him to sleep if he had let himself to the other's mercy.
"Because I have no other clothes any less 'fancy'. A high merchant such as myself, no matter the occasion, be it walk or stroll, must look nice for his customers." he replied, nodding a bit to himself. "Although I do have a cream sweater back at home that I wear about the house... Rather dumpt looking thing, but feasible." he mused.
Did he drink? Well... He had never tried it due to his own health... But still... "No, I've never tried it..." he simply mumbled in reply, bringing his hands down to nervously play with the hem of his sweater.
((Going to bed~))
(( k same here. c:
"Customers? Do you sell something?" Code cocked his head, stepping away to tuck his longer hair behind an ear. He then took his other hand out of the blond layers in abandonment of the search; no bruises. "Actually, we can talk about it while we walk--if you want. I'm not sure how far you can go. I was heading for the shop to get a case of beer for home, but we can split paths here if you'd rather. I've no offense to it." He pursed his own lips. "You seem polite and humble, so I can understand how you might be lieing about me annoying you."
His accent thickened just a little bit during his last sentence thanks to it being more of a mumble, for once in his life letting his eyes drop in a little bit of shame. He was already aware that he was rowdy and a nuisance quite often, but to someone that dressed so suave and was shorter than himself, as kind as all this--it was a little unbecoming to his mood.
Believe it or not, with his attitude as it was . . . he secretly hated being alone.
And it probably showed in the way his eyes hooded a bit, bashfully rubbing his foot against the concrete sidewalk below their four feet. This was surprisingly out of character for him.
Maybe it was from lack of beer. He was so much more aware when he'd had some--it was almost like he acted drunker when he was sober.
Crybaby could fall asleep
He slept deeply through the rest of the night, waking up when the sunlight shone through the little window of the small room.
He had turned to the side, the cloth had fallen down long ago when he moved again. He opened his eyes, blinking a bit. Hm, where was he...
He slowly remembered... Sort had taken him to his apartment, yes...
He still felt a bit sleepy, a slight headache. But it was almost gone. He sat up slowly, looking around. Where was Sort?
Uh... now he felt bad he had taken his bed to sleep, where has he been sleeping?
"Sort?" he couldn't see him in the room.
He yawned slightly and lifted one hand to rub his sleepy eyes.
He should go now, he had been away from home far too long.
The wall was nice, helping
"It isn't that far. I'm sure I'm capable of it... You would not mind if I rewarded you for your kindness?" he asked, wondering if the other would find him rude. To be honest, all he wanted to do was to go home, maybe sleep for a few hours and forget about the whole thing... But Bartleby was the type that, out of instinct, could not help but act as stiffly polite as possible around strangers.
That, and his hair is rather lovely...
He shook his head a little, looking up to offer a reassuring (though weak) smile, a tad forced, though he hoped that the other wouldn't notice.
"You aren't annoying me in the slightest, uhm... Code." he mumbled, unsure of whether he was lying or speaking the truth. Forming relationships had always been difficult for him, due to his own lack of social skills. Really, the only friends he had at this point were flukes... People who had helped him...
Maybe this man could... Hm...
It was possible, although at this point, Code would have to prove that he could be trusted.
Something about the hall's
Cry was awake. That was all that he understood from that feeling; there was no one nearby under the danger of having his body too close for nightmares and more selfish libidos flourishing. No one asleep.
He stood, albeit slowly. It was only then that he'd realized he was a bit stiff and groggy. And so it was... he hadn't slept, after all, because he figured he wouldn't have needed it--but this must have been one of those dayts where he was starting to reach his limit of needing to lie down. But he would be able to hold out for another few hours, rubbing at his eyes in a very brief stretch before cracking his room's door open a pinch.
The boy was in fact sitting up. So he took the invitation of stepping in, everything about him quiet so he wouldn't disturb any of the settled peace about the place.
. . . It had felt nice, being able to care for someone like this while it lasted. He'd never done it as far as he knew; but, then again, his memories only went back to about some one month or so ago. "Good morning," he started off, offering a small smile while swallowing the need to give a little yawn. He shut the door behind him before taking his place back in the seat beside the bed. "You'd fallen asleep, so I let you rest. Did it... you know, are you any better?" He refused the need to reach out and touch Cry's forehead to check for temperature out of some unknown reasoning. "If you're able to stand, at least, I'd like to help you find your way back home. I can't imagine how your family must feel about this."
One hand passed through his hair slightly bed-headed even when he hadn't done any sleeping. It was just its style. But the bangs in his eye had begun bother him again.
--
"Kindness?" Another blurt, but he had to wrinkle his nose and squint a bit in wonder over how in the world Faith had read all Code was doing as kindness. He'd hit him in the head with a rock. Well... lightly and accidentally flicked a pebble at him during his stroll, moreover--but he'd still been acting fishy up until this point.
. . . A small smile blossomed as the Lithuanian relaxed a bit, readjusting to cock his head down at Mister Bartleby. "I still can't tell whether you're lieing or not, about my annoyance--but if you're giving me the chance to walk with you, then I'd love to try and prove to you otherwise that I'm not really such a bother. So, back to the conversation!" He straightened, taking one step to the side to help Faith along in starting up their walk slowly.
It was still weird for him to be looking at another pair of olive eyes. Almost made him wonder if he, too, was ... no, he'd have known.
"Do you sell something? For your 'customers'?"
(( Good morningggg guys 8DD *just-woke-up-fail posting of HAPPY* ))
Crybaby looked up when he
"Yes I'm feeling better, thank you. I'm sorry I had occupied your bed though..." he sighed, feeling a bit embarrassed. He looked at him with an apologizing gaze. "I hope you could get some sleep too, and I also hope your back doesn't hurt anymore..."
His white, slight curled hair looked a bit messy on his head, which only made him look cuter though.
"Oh but... I don't want to be a bother, you already helped me a lot..." he slowly lifted his legs over the border of the bed.
"Family?" he lowered his gaze a bit "Uh... well. Sithrim's gonna be worried I think. I hope he didn't search for me yet..."
He tried to stand up carefully. But his legs were shaking and his head ached more when he lifted up. He felt like he was about to fall.
((Goood afternoooon~ Fail
He blinked, a bit confused at his fleeting remark. Yes... Kindness... What else could it be? He had apologized for him, and had tried to make amends by offering what he could. Wasn't that what 'kindness' amounted to? Ah, people were so confusing...
Ah, yes... Go, then..." he mumbled awkwardly, letting taller support him as they walked along the path.
He felt rather nervous about it all. Despite how nice the man seemed, he was still a stranger. After all, he knew little to nothing about him. He was, by Faith's own definition, an 'outsider', someone unable to trust in fear of getting himself hurt.
Still, his last question allowed for a little smile to play over his lips, clearly delighted with the prospect of going over his own practice. "The Bartlebys are a long-lived family of high merchants, primarily focusing on exported raw material overseas. I'm the eighteenth in line, although considering our short lifespans, that isn't as near as impressive as it sounds..." he rambed on like a broken tape recorder, as if he had said it a dozen times beforehand.
Eventually, he stopped, turning his head over to face him, focusing his eyes on the bottom of Code's chin. "And you?" he proded him, more out of plolite curtesy than interest.
"No, you don't have to be
He would offer to let the friend use his restroom for washing, but it was pathetic. Even he didn't use that shower too often unless desperate--he went out in secret to use ponds. Those were cleaner than the water that came from his sink. For this reason, he wanted to help the other out of such a terrible shelter as soon as he could; otherwise, the Angel would think him a failure for having to live in something like this at all.
"Sithrim?" Sort helped Cry sit back down on the bed, hoping the other's tremble would settle a bit as his blood became used to usual circulation. "If you'd let me know his last name, I have a phone book--maybe you could call. And I can apologize to him for having caused this. I burned your shirt, too..." Ducking away a bit, he itched his cheek, praying this new man brought up in topic wasn't strict or someone that would be nothing but pissed upon hearing he'd had his friend sleep in his bed.
Little did he know...
(( x'D <33 ohCry. ))
--
Impressive. He knew exactly what it felt like to have people giving long titles to him like that, and company descriptions--he could very well do the same. It only made Faith all the more interesting, as though they really could have the tendency to be friends should they put heart into trying. "Wow," he blinked, staring straight forward with open eyes alert for nothing in particular. They just were. "What sorts of raw materials...? If it's anything I need, I'd be really honored to have the privilege of knowing someone in the trade. Maybe we can work together, somehow."
Another smile, this one just as handsome as all his others. The pathetic thing about it, though, was that he wasn't even trying to come off that way. He was frowned upon by his roommate constantly about how much of a 'cock' he was--though he knew he meant otherwise. They were both humorously rude in place of true feeling.
Looking down at Faith, he cocked his head, playing with his own hair again while holding the market's door open for the other as soon as they'd arrived. "Am I what...?"
He kept on, easily steering
"Are you interested in the field? Pardon me.. I don't know your age..." he went off into a small mumble, an easily seen blush of embarassment creeping over his cheeks... so confused...
He stepped through the door, offering a short, little bow and a mumble of gratitude, rather puzzled by the redhead's last question. "Your occupation... Or profession, I was asking you..." he looked away, stiffly brings a hand up to twirl a few locks of hair, exposing his own glossy, manicured nails.
Faith was, in more simple terms, a bit 'prissy' when it came to his own appearence. His hair was always neatly parted, save for the occasional lock that would dangle in front of his eye, although the oddest habit that he had was his own tendency to let his nails grow out slightly, taking a few minutes once a week to freshly coat them in a clear polish. A strange practice for his time, but it was just something that made him a titch more comfortable.
He shot a few glances around the shop, taking note of the items, even listing them over in his mind for future reference.
After all, all information was good information.
((:'D &hearts)) Crybaby
Crybaby grabbed Sort's arms when he helped him back on the bed. "Huh..." he blinked a bit and slightly shook his head when he was sitting on the bed again.
"It's not a bother for me either, you were really nice to help me." he gave him a little smile.
But he really worried for this man as well, seeing how he lived made him sad. He wished he could help him more.
He lowered his gaze to look at his shirt, slightly wondering how this had happened "Oh no worries, it's just a shirt isn't it..." he looked at him again and his smile froze a bit.
"Eh... it's maybe better not to call him." he murmured. He didn't want to imagine how Sithrim could react.
"It's okay, I'm sure I can walk home... my legs just felt a bit weak after standing up so quickly."
Funny. He could use all of
"Very interested now, yes." He stepped into the store, walking slowly again so that Faith could both keep up at leisure and follow his simple path towards the alcohol. "Seventeen. And while I'm mentioning the such, I want to apologize if my accent is ever... stupid, somehow. I'm not perfect with English yet." Of course--and rather obviously--he knew his English just as well as any American and couldn't help hiding a bit of gloat in his words, but it was also a true apology. His memory faltered on words sometimes and he'd need others to replace it, or grammar slipped--but this was relatively rare.
Coming into the aisle, Code bent down to finger through which beer sounded tasteful to his needs while speaking lowly, hushed--should anyone hear. As if it were a secret. "My occupation is... kind of locked away on what I'm able to tell. But I work in Lithuania because that's where the base is. We work with, um..." ...golems. Making armor and swords, and I'm a lapidarian--but that sounded so otherworldly. Almost like a joke. He'd always had to make himself seem so much lower in the field than he really was with others, his real talents far above what he continued on with. "...stone, basically. Jewels and blacksmithing."
In truth, they'd just finished a huge war with gargoyles that he never in his life would be able to explain again through rephrase. He'd gotten plenty of scars in the process (the most prominent being the deep and still-dark one down the length of his entire throat and neck) even though he was Second-in-Command to the entire Lapidarian Legion they had. Hard to imagine Code with a serious face and demure, but he could be professional quicker than a bat of anyone's lashes.
"I'm nothing too special."
Ha . . .
--
Just a shirt... but if Cry wasn't allowing Sort to call this Sithrim, then he must have been one of the protective types. He was guessing a little too accurately when he assumed that the bit of burning upon the younger's shoulder would cause Crybaby's beloved into a flourish of loathing over his own accident. "If you need another shirt or.. if you want me to try mending it, I can try. I'm sure I have something too small you could stay warm under."
Like that was any more of a help. A completely new shirt was far more obvious than a small mark.
"But if you'll be alright with what you're wearing and you can walk on your own, then . . ." He pressed his lips together, reaching into his pocket to pull something out and let a closed hand hover over Cry's in hopes that he'd understand the gift. A penny, face up. ". . . guess this is goodbye. Maybe you'll bump into me again."
He hoped he would, anyway.
And his eyes showed it.
"It's okay like this, no need
He looked down at the penny Sort put down on his hand, suddenly feeling sad to leave him. He blinked "Thank you..." he babbled in a tiny whisper, closing his hand to a fist.
He then looked up at Sort, feeling that his eyes were about to well up "I... I hope I will..." he smiled weakly while some tears started to roll down his cheek "I... I really wish I could help you more one day..."
He wanted to... had to help him, this man was good... and he was his friend.
He first lowered his tearful gaze before he quickly wrapped his arms around Sort, hugging him tightly "Till then take care, o-okay?"
Oh, Cry was so lucky to be a
Giving a casual and whispered hey, he'd started reaching forward in a bit of a surprise to wipe such sudden tears away. But he hadn't gotten that far once embraced, sitting up stiff as a bored with his gaze nothing but wide and boring right through the window in front of him. "...You're welcome, but, thank you." He managed to return the hug lightly, tightening it just so the more he spoke. "I know we've only just met, but you've helped me out a lot more than you know. I'm trying my best to care for what I have, too, so I'll take that promise."
Sort leaned back, finally able to dry the other's face with his own palms as he stood to help the littler one up. "As long as you stay safe, too. Deal?" Keeping Cry close to his side then just in case he still was tipsy, he slowly went over to the door with him, one arm around his shoulder as his other hand tucked away loose layers of silky, midnight hair.
He hadn't even bothered with
"Ah, seventeen? A bit young, but I was drafted into the buisness at eighteen, so I'm not exactly one to talk, am I?" he chuckled, loosening up ever so slightly, just a little, but it was the thought that counted.
He watched quietly as the younger of them started looking amoungst the plethora of brands, picking out the one that would be deemed 'just right'. Faith, of course, didn't know what the differences between brands of beer, or what even made them different. "A blacksmith? That's lovely... And intriguing... For my sake. I assume you understand what I mean..." he trailed off, tiddling his thumbs a bit in front of his jacket. Of course. He was interested in possible buisness.
Who wouldn't be?
With a small flouish of movement, he pulled out a neat little bi-fold wallet, extracting a single, though valuable gold coin from his change purse. "Here..." he mumbled, holding it out for Code to take from his palm. "More than enough for what you probably need, but please... treat yourself." he nodded.
It wasn't kindness. It was politeness.
Crybaby sniffed a bit but
He grabbed Sort's arms again when he got up. He felt much better on his feet now, more sure and they also weren't shaking any more... just feeling a bit flabby. But it wouldn't be a problem to go home.
"Okay, deal." he normally held promises he had taken. But it wasn't certain if he was going to get himself into trouble one day or not, wouldn't be the first time... even if he didn't do it on purpose.
Code stood, readjusting the
Even if it was more offending to deny the money, he was going to continue refusing it--it wasn't fair to use other's stuff when you had no reason. The money for this was already in his pocket, anyway... Though he could probably use the extra help for finance, he preferred to do anything concerning the bank on his own.
Just as a toddler was picky with his meal, Code was picky with his money.
"A blacksmith?" Oh, his lie-- "Yes, I understand. We'll be doing business from now on, won't we?" A grin, turning for just a moment to chuckle at Mr. Bartleby once in line. "I'll keep your company in mind, then, and I'll look up contact info when we'll start needing any iron or glass. It's getting hard to find sources for things like that. I'm pretty damn lucky today~"
In America, he was too young.
So he used a fake ID like the ass he was.
--
He's miss him. But he wasn't going to say it.
"If you ever need me, or whatever--I can't imagine why you'd come somewhere like this or want my help, but--you know my name, and I have a cell phone. I've learned how to at least answer it and text, anyway..." He gave a quiet laugh just once, pulling the door open to make sure Cry would find his way down the hall and out the actual building.
He pressed up against the doorway in a lean, face unwrit. "Goodbye."
"Hm..." he huffed a little at
Mentally, of course.
"If you had found a bruise, you would very well have saved my life... Please take it..." he pushed him, crinckling his eyesbrows in a bit of frustration. It was no longer an act of politeness. It was an act to get what he wanted.
"Yes, yes... I look forward to that..." he brushed off his next statement as briskly as if a fly would have landed on his shoulder. Always quick and clean
He said nothing regarding the faux ID he carried, noting, with sharp eyes, how the year of his birth on it was incorrect compared to his actual, spoken age. Really, he simply didn't care, cold as that was.
If anything, it helped the buisness thrive.
And he could respect Code for that.
((Oh lame response is lame, my bad ;; ))
(( shall respond after we go
((FINE. EAT. 8| Pfft... He's
(( OUR BEAUTIFUL CHILREN.. I
Completely ignoring Faith, he handed the cashier the money from his own pocket, and said absolutely nothing to the other half behind and half beside him. Even the coin being waved frustratingly below his nose went seemingly unseen until he'd taken his beer back into both arms, chuckling with pure amusement as he finally found the time to start up walking out of the store. Slowly, to be sure Mr. Bartleby would follow.
"Look, thank you--really. I'm extremely charmed by the fact that you wanted to pay, but I can't. It doesn't feel right when you toiled to get it and then illegally purchased my own obsession. I'd much rather have bought you something with my own." Total hypocrisy, but let it be known that red-heads were proven to have more of a stubborn temper than any others. Code was no exception, even if his hair was a darker pink sort of shade.
He could read the situation, though. While holding the door open again for his new friend, he noted with a pure expression and brighter eyes, "But if you want me to take it, I will. Just not to pay for alcohol. Even though I'd just use it to buy you something,' he repeated, smiling again with a single bounce. The idea became lovelier the more he thought about it.
What would Faith like that would show him his own thanks?
Crybaby took a step out of
"Okay. And if you need any help you can always look for me as well. Sithrim's surname is Moonslicer." he gave him a grin but his eyes still looked sad.
"You can come any time you wish..."
He lowered his gaze before he turned it towards the way out "... goodbye." he said in a tiny voice, turning around to walk down the hall and out of the building, heading home... only looking back once before he left.
He had left a sign, a little white, invisible feather had fallen down from his wings, on Sort's bed... becoming material.
((:3))
Moonslicer. Sithrim
...They were such unique names, how could he ever forget them?
He couldn't say anything else--it would just make the other regret wanting to leave more than he already was, and their goodbyes had been gentle enough. This was it.
It took him a while to gather the nerve to take his weight off the door's frame, but he managed to stand and turn back into his 'home'. While boredly kicking an empty can away on his way over to the bed for an actual attempt at sleep, he'd found this feather. It was faded at first, but as he squinted more and picked it up with nimble fingers to turn it over, it was a solid textured in all it's softness.
Cry.. thank you.
With a smile and a sad, single chuckle slipped beneath an exhale, he twisted the feather's stem into his hair as an ornament.
And then slept sounly.
(( ;n; <3 Awnnnn. End? Or did you want to time skip somehow? ))
((x'3 Uhm, oh if you would
(( *-* hmhm. I suppose
since it's technically your turnyou can go ahead. 8D Otherwise I'll type it up later after I sleep, go to school, and work ;; wraaa. BUT YAY for continuing ;_; <333 ))((FuhFuh~ The war has begun~
He felt like he was losing the battle, and he was quite tempted to see if he could sneak his own self-proclaimed gift into the man's back pocket without his noticing. After all, his... 'assistant'... had taught him a thing or two about pick-pocketing... Perhaps he could exploit those few skills he had picked up, or at least keep them in mind.
"Toil? You flatter me... My work takes no real 'effort', and yet I'm one, if not the, wealthiest man in this city as of now. A single coin is nothing to me..." he huffed, offering another bow before he took a few slow steps out the door. "I'm in no need of anything material as of now." he stated simply at the red-head's suggestion.
If anything, he needed a wife, or the capabilities to carry on the family name, and that was something Code would certainly not be able to help with.
"I beg of you to take it for yourself... It would ease my mind..." he pleaded, staring up at Code's face with a sort of charming faux puppy-eyed sadness. His last resort in getting his way.
((If you have some ideas then
I love rping with you :3))
"Then a single coin is
A challenge. A friendly one.
But if His Majesty Sir Bartleby wanted to play a game, he was more than willing to comply--and the bright smile on his face proved it.
Granted, he'd faltered just a moment at the sight of a pouting face, but he was too used to the tactic having come from other people's requests that it wasn't enough to make him cave. Not yet, anyway.
--
While fingering the white feather again having been placed in and against bold, black-orchid hair, Sort bit at his lower lip harshly so as to nervously tongue the piercing on it.
Being tense, this was his way through fidgeting to try coping with women. The only let-down to this was the fact that some female people were attracted to or found lip biting to be considered sexual for whatever reason. And he was most certainly not in the mood for anything stooping so low.
His mare, however, was.
He finally had it in him to just stop walking altogether, letting out a first pant as a sign of how far he'd walked stiffly away from the evening's crowd. The small walls around him made up a bus stop's waiting bench, so he sat, passing a hand over his face while doing so in a hefty sigh.
The demon wanted out, undoubtedly. It had been about a week since he'd last seen Cry, and during this span of being alone as always, he'd learned to understand what reactions meant what and how to use a bit of his own energy to resist urges. The most common now being sex and alcohol, because they were what his red-eyed counterpart absolutely raved over.
It took strength. And it hurt having to force the lucid to stay put inside his own damn skin. But it would be worth it in the end--dirtying his bed or throwing money away on nothing but shit when he had red eyes was starting to make him so much more irritable than he knew he was even capable of being.
(( IDK bad replies to each RP, I'm sorry ;n; <3 More work and stuff today, too, so I won't be responding as speedy this week. ))
Crybaby was heading home
He narrowed his eyes a bit when he suddenly saw a familiar face and his own lightened up with a smile. Yes, it was really Sortsand! He silently approached to surprise him a bit, slowly sitting down next to him.
"Hey Sort!" he grinned at him, feeling happy that he was really meeting his friend once more now.
Last week when he had gotten home he had found a worried Sithrim, like he had predicted. But he had told him that he had fallen asleep at his friend's house (the one he had been after school, before meeting Sort) to calm him down. He didn't want to imagine how Sithrim would have had reacted if he had told him that he had met a man with an incubus hiding in his inside...
((Oh, it's alright~ I know
His own, docile olive eyes flared up for a brief second, not being to help to an intense flush of embarassment creeping over his cheeks at the other's remark. "What means little to me me could mean more than you... but yes... I'll admit you're right in that regard, at least." he mumbled uneasily, admitting defeat, at least for now. Code may have won the battle, but the war was far from over.
With a subtle lift of the hand, he placed his hand upon his chest, a vain attmept to ease away the few twinges of pain that had started back up, his lips parting as he took in a few quick breaths for added reassurance. Still, he kept a formal mien, pondering over Code's last question. "I couldn't do anything. What, you expect me to fight you? My condition dosen't allow for that. Not to mention, you're my potential customer, harming you financially would only be foolish on my part." he chuckled, slowing his pace a bit to keep his own chest from tightening up. Hopefully Code wouldn't get annoyed...
He startled, sitting up to
God was making them meet again. The reasons this time were unclear, but whatever the case, he was almost overjoyed to find him in his sight again. Even having the younger walk up to him, and talking to him--that was more than he'd even expected. "Crybaby!"
This was usually where a hug came into play, right...? Was he allowed that?
Cry had given him one before they'd parted before, so.. he risked it, leaning forward just enough to give a loose one about smaller shoulders. "How are you~? What are you doing out alone again?"
Well, at least his symptoms from before had settled once these two locked eyes; he wasn't receiving a migraine anymore and the lucid inside seemed to shrink away. So his demon side really didn't care about Crybaby, did he? Sort figured his other self found the boy a waste of time.
Fine by him; the more of the boy he could have to himself rather than having to share any with someone as inhumane as "the shadow". He wouldn't allow this pale skin to be hurt.
--
The blush came as a bit confusing to Code, as did the gestures concerning his breath and chest, but he didn't say too much about either. "You okay?" was all he could mutter, just a bit worried--as any person would have been. "I should probably walk you home, shouldn't I."
Two things the Lithuanian realized during that sentence: it had come out as a statement rather than a question. Which meant he'd wanted to help him home. And he'd suggested being the one to escort him. Wasn't that some sort of . . . proof of bond? Friends?
He hadn't had one aside from one other in a long time. It almost thrilled him. "Oh, but--no, no fight. I was just playing; you can't take everything seriously, right? We'll still be business partners someday soon. I respect that."
He didn't know where Faith lived. Nonetheless, while waiting for a response, he'd wished for a ponytail; a breeze picked up and had him shaking deep-magenta hair away from clover irises.
(( I didn't proof-read these for grammar/spelling LOL sorry D8 ))
"Hm? Ah... Just... A bit
But Alaska had taken you home, too.
That was what sealed to the deal for him.
"Faith." he stated simply, taking a few cautious steps before continuing, forcing his own body to pick up the pace. "My first name is Faith."
He said nothing more on the matter, instead focusing on himself for a little while before craning his neck over to a large, three-story estate some blocks away. To him, it was more like several miles, yet he managed to it make it here without much trouble at all. Maybe it was the lack of people... lack of all the stress.
"That's... where I live..." he mumbled, holding up a shaking hand to brush back his stray lock of hair.
Faith. He understood. On a
He understood. On a first name basis, then... In that case, he decided to dare sharing, "Kulpa, then. Code Kulpa." Even giving this, anyway, the blond might not even know how to spell it in order to look up who he really was. He had two other names, anyway. Lithuania was different with their system.
There wasn't much else to say during the short walk--not when Code was too interested in making sure the other was continually okay with his health, once even brushing that bang away for him without permission before skipping ahead now and then to watch over him catching up. "This one?" he blinked, turning to wrinkle his nose at the sheer, massive size of the entire building. His home was 1/10 its size... if that. He'd never really been in or to a home this huge.
But he said nothing of it. The odd beauty of this scene was taken in mutely, and quickly brushed off so that he could again readjust the beer's weight and purse his lips. "Am I allowed to take you in further, too...? Or should I take my leave here?"
Very well, Code Kulpa it was.
He said nothing more on the topic of names, as what needed to be said was said. Faith rarely, if ever, gave out his first name. Fear of embarassment? Perhaps that was a factor of it, 'Faith' was often used as a girl's name, after all. Although the main part of it was that, being the paranoid creature that he was, he was simply afraid of 'outsiders' knowing it. To him, there was a certain privacy in a first name, while most everyone knew last names.
Or maybe it was just because he hated it.
He visibly flinched when he felt his hair being brushed away for him, but eventually submitted. The man knew his first name, and that meant that he would be trusted, no matter how odd it felt.
"Ah, yes. That would be it." he nodded a little, taking a few more steps towards the main gates, pausing a bit at the other's question.
"Uhm... You may if you want to... I'm afraid I'm a bit of a burden... I wouldn't want to take advantage of you... but if you want..." he rambled, flushing in embarassment. He really did want Code to come with him... If he wanted to...
He hoped he did.
((Fail early morning post :C))
Crybaby smiled shyly. He felt
"I'm fine... I just had to buy some food for home after finishing school." he wasn't in hurry though, so he hoped he could spend some time with him now.
"How about you?"
He noticed the white feather in Sort's hair, hm... had he lost one of his during the time he had been at his home? Maybe it helped him a bit against it... he really hoped so.
If he wanted to? A burden?
Bartleby had his mind all topsy-turvy; Code found everything to be the other way around, for him. He felt like the burden taking advantage of Faith's company. Though because the blond was being bashful about it, he simply pushed these opinions aside in order to nod once. While he certainly didn't want to have to leave the other so soon, the beer really was getting seemingly heavier with every minute. "Then I'll keep walking," he chirped, blinking as he turned away from the other in order to start up another slow stroll. Always slow; Faith had to keep up, after all, and without the need to sweat and pant through pain about it. It made Code feel bad as if he were the one causing that when it came.
The more he walked up the home's path, the quieter his mindless humming. He just couldn't grasp how huge everything was: a chimney stalk there, or possibly three--the gardening outside was just littered with beauty no matter where he looked, and it was all so unexplainable. Why would anyone at all need so much space as this? Gorgeous, yes--no doubt--but he was boggled by that thought repeatedly.
"So big," he mumbled, glancing over his shoulder into another pair of olive eyes.
It was only then that he'd wondered if he'd have to meet some other rich person or family member at the door. This made him feel awfully unprepared and under-dressed; he even started up a rare blush at the thought.
--
"Little better," came Sort's reply. While the lucid's activity still thrived about half the day every week as usual, he was at least learning how to hold back into letting him actually come out. He found this as progress--albeit only little.
"You go to school?" Jealous! Had he ever been to school, he couldn't remember it at all. He did have knowledge of the usual class education concerning geometry formulas and the likes, but it could have come from some other place. "Do you like it? I hear a lot of people complain about it, but I can't understand why. I love to read and learn..."
Then it kind of peeked into his mind: there were probably books on demons somewhere. He kept this tucked away in his memory somewhere for future reference. Maybe the novels could offer help in some form.
Nonetheless, he sat back, keeping an arm about Cry's shoulders just so he wouldn't have to refrain from all physical contact. It wasn't meant to be awkward, but comfortable--and for him, it was, despite the way he again fidgeted with his hair. Pushing bangs aside, stroking the feather, passing a hand through the layers--what was he so nervous about...?
"Yes, and I really like it. I
He actually wasn't in school since long already, only some months. He already could read and write when he landed on Earth, but this was the only thing. He also still had to also know basic, trivia things... not necessarily concerning school. Just things about modern life. But school helped him a lot...
He leaned back as well, tilting his head a bit while he curiously looked at him "Are you alright?" he wondered, because he noticed and could feel Sort was somehow nervous.
He managed to keep the pace,
The estate itself, as most large mansions did, had a homely, yet regal air to it. It's siding was of brick, a simple material considering it's size, but it give it a nice, homely feeling. Indeed, there was a garden out front, with the usual things that gardens had... save for the fact that most of the flowers were browning at the edges of their petals, giving way to Autumn.
There was a small gazebo a little ways off, a common place for Faith to go out and read... among other things...
"Would you rather we took a little rest out here? The house can get a bit too warm during the autumn... And the cold... would you mind it?" he asked, pointing a little towards it, feeling irksome and annoying. The truth was, he didn't know if he was ready for Code to come into his own home... The idea of someone going into his domain... Unless there was complete and utter trust.
Granted, Faith had told him his first name, but that was never enough to win him over.
Another, more sudden tightness in his rib cage caused him to audibly gasp, and he attmepted to cover up his little blunder with more little subtle gestures to help stifle it.
"Uhm... I... I'm sure you want to set that case down... Y-Yes.... Come along then..." he stammered, cursing himself for how brash and rude he was acting towards him, taking a few small steps towards his own little outside haven.