Hello, I'm Dannii C: MoonlitStar, Moon, Lit, Litters, Star, yada yada yada. I'm incredibly bored right now so I decided to abandon my old roleplay blog as I always do because I suck, and make a new one. Human and deer are heeeere.
Note for Freddie: In human form, I always see it as a kind of alternate universe where most people would never have heard of Freddie Mercury, so there's no kind of WHOAAAA WHAAAAT FANS SCREAMING ZOMBIE INVASIONS BLABLABLA shizazz going on. However, your character may recognise or remember Freddie. Hell, maybe they met before in a club in 1986 or something, I don't know. But I felt I should clear that up xD Wheeee. This is what happened to him before the Forest.
Note about Human/Deer: My deer can travel between both worlds. The events that happen in the human world are remembered when they return to the Forest. They cannot be in two places at the same time (that doesn't mean there can't be two roleplays at the same time!) and therefore for example if Rutilus is in hospital, he cannot be inforest.
DEER
Taliene; (anyone can interact)
By the river, a doe whose face is covered by a 'real-deer' mask, sits. Her pelt is of light brown, with a splash of white on her chest, and faint creamy-brown spots spattered along her tail end. Green eyes stare into the clear, running water, but have glazed over, giving the impression that she is off in a mental world of her own. Taliene's antlerless head dips slightly as she frowns a little. She is a troubled young doe. Will you sit with her?
Rutilus; (anyone can interact)
Underneath the slanted rock at the Playground, there lies a stag with the pelt of the golden butterfly. Gashes and wounds run their way along his body, though most are not too deep. It still hurts him. His deer mask lies discarded by his side, sky-blue eyes closed. The nameless antlers above his head have crimson roses wound around them. He looks exhausted, but is smirking to himself as if triumphant. Approach him?
Jared; (anyone can interact)
Deep in the birches, sitting amongst the long, golden grasses that grow there, a gazelle thinks quietly to himself. And he looks just like a gazelle, but today his deer-face is actually a mask, and if it were removed, there would be a human face underneath. Amber eyes gaze around him, at the trees and the birds and the rocks. He seems friendly. Will you approach?
Lorak; (anyone can interact)
For once, he has left the Ruins. With his black-and-white Beluga pelt, dark key antlers that fade from black to dark grey as they reach their tips, and his black Orca mask, he may not seem too approachable. Bright orange eyes study the world around him. He paces amongst the trees of the First Forest, ignoring the quiet whispers of the dead, and the occassional wisps of silver-white that he sees. Will you attempt to speak to him?
Rhapsody; (anyone can interact)
It is taking him time to get used to being an adult. It took far too long for it to happen; he was a fawn for many months, and grew sick of it. But now, he is different. Today he wears a dark grey pelt, with streaks of white and black, and the gold-and-red Kabuki mask covers his face. His antlers are regular, nameless-deer antlers. It seems that he is restless, bored; he paces back and forth quickly near the Ruins, a frown beneath his mask. Hazel eyes stare from the holes in the Kabuki mask. Ease his boredom?
Rhye; (anyone can interact)
It is obvious that he is wounded. He lies by the Crying Idol, golden pelt matted with dried blood. His mask has been lost. His antlers, though they are really just two enormous brown feathers with iridescent rainbow colouring through them, lie crushed underneath his skull. He has paws instead of hooves. A strange blue cream covers his wounds, courtesy of a friend. He is lonely and still afraid. Will you help him?
Freddie; (anyone can interact)
Apparently, he is in a good mood again after several days of near-depression. He has been missing the people he once knew; people he cannot see again, ever. But this Forest, and the human world attatched to it, could be Heaven for all he knows. He has no antlers, just long, black human hair. No particularly special markings, just a black and white pelt. No mask, just a slightly-tanned human face with expressive chocolate orbs. His front teeth protrude considerably, something he is terribly self-conscious of, more so now that he cannot cover them with his hand. The stag sits by the Pond, though well away from the muck and dirt. Care for a chat?
HUMAN
OKAY I've done enough starters for now xD Here.
Taliene; She won't be found outside her house just now, so perhaps it'd be better if your character knew her first c: Or I don't know sdfdf.
Rutilus; can be found at home again, battered and bruised.
Jared; can either be found in his and Taliene's house, or anywhere in town. Just not bars and such. Also works in a computer store.
Lorak; is more likely to be found at night, out in the city wandering the streets. But if your character knows him, they can drop by his apartment c:
Rhapsody; has only recently found the human world, and finds that he has a house. Perhaps the Gods intervened there; he doesn't know. He can be found pretty much anywhere.
Rhye; can be found only in he and Jarvis' apartment. He's healing up but still has a bad limp.
Freddie; can really be found anywhere, I suppose :U Your character could visit his house if they already know him. Or if they're just...knocking...doors...D8"
Questions are also good 8D GO GO GO.
((*conk* x3 Ahh... I must
[ HAY I've missed you. |: ]
((Oh... I've missed you too,
EDIT: Completely loled at the comment on that new stupid legendary x'D))
[ LOL Xylv and I spent like
[FUFUFUF track since we're
[ bump! ]
"Red-against-gold" was not a
Rutilus's bloodied yet yellow hide was one of them. Passing by the playground on his way to a favorite patch of grass for something to preoccupy his nicotine-craving mouth had him happen across this stag; so, would his mind be pondered enough to be drawn over?
..."Are you alright?" Damn; what a newb. He could have at least said hello first, but, whatever the case, it was said now--he really had walked over slowly to the form. It didn't take too long for him to recognize blood. For some reason, it came across as extremely familiar to him.
He stayed standing cautiously by the slanted rock and under its shadow, not sure if inviting himself to lie down or not would be offending. Even then, he probably wasn't all that interesting to look at anyway; he only had a reversed beluga pelt and the orca mask so that his back was graced with white and the underside black.
(( JSFKDJFK I DUNNO LOL but if you would get on MSN ;; I'VE WANTED TO RP THESE TWO FOR FOREVER. For some reason. They'll still be BFFs. Also fail rp because I haven't done this in a long time now. ))
[ FFFUUU YES. ] For a
For a fraction of a moment, he thought that the black and white shape was Lorak. But then Rutilus realised that, unlike any other deer he had seen -- or remembered seeing, at least -- in his forest life, the deer's back was coated in snow and his underside, soot. That, and he knew his overly-depressing friend would not approach him any time soon; Lorak was heavily disapproving of Rut's latest actions; his drinking, his smoking, his suicide attempt, and now this outburst of raw aggression.
But truthfully, Rutilus didn't really give a damn as to what Lorak thought.
Blue soul-windows looked up at the stranger, studying him while Rutilus took a second to think. "Do I look allright, mate?" He asked almost irritably. It had become in his nature to respond snarkily to questions involving whether or not he was 'allright'.
The stag's ears flicked briefly as a red petal fell onto one of them. His front right leg ached terribly, bruised and giving him a painful limp when he tried to walk on it.
"Just a few scratches."
Oh--he had to hold back a
"If you do not mind me correcting your English, it looks more like a lot of deep impales to me. They are even still bleeding." A pause. Making a good first impression was just as new to him as the entire world was--as of the current, the only thing he knew about himself was his name and slivers of his past shed on to him by the doctor. "Please stay still," he muttered, trotting to the side a moment in order to lean over and brush up a few stray leaves as if he were raking an autumn-littered yard. This little pile was brought over to the wounds so that he could unremittingly try to dress them and press against the blood so it clotted.
It was a bit too much even for him to help out someone he didn't know this much after just two shared lines of dialogue, but he was bleeding. Wouldn't it have been ruder if he hadn't tried to help the physical contact...?
"Correcting my bloody
His entire body tensed in surprise, and then Rutilus leaned sideways abruptly, away from the reverse-beluga-fur stag. "Owbugger!" His antlers clattered off of the rock beside him, and he growled, trying to regain composure. "That hurt!" Blue eyes glared accusingly at the other.
Perhaps he was a bit of a drama queen, but showing this amount of concern and kindness so early was a surprise to Rutilus. That, and it was a stag.
Black ears pinned back
Even so, an oddly stubborn side kept him at it until the blood had at least slowed enough to dry up on its own when he took a step back. He shook his head to rid it and whatever else of any leaves, and then made his way leaving by turning to trot off. This wasn't going right.
Or, that's what he had wanted to happen, anyway. He never did leave. "I'm sorry," were his words. Of all the things just said and from his own favor--"I'm sorry." And then he proceeded to back up a step in preparation for this stag to wave him off.
Even if he could tell that
Then guilt settled in. Even if there had been no exchanging of names and about two lines of dialogue before the stag started invading his personal space, he had been trying to help. And he'd done a damn good job of it.
"Oi oi, mate, hang on." Rutilus stood, leaning on his left side to take the weight off of his right leg. "What the hell're you apologisin' for? Look--" He sighed heavily, embarrassed. "--Look, I'm just--I'm sorry, yeh? I should be thankin' you. So thanks."
...A sensitive side? Granted,
"You're welcome," he blinked. Stale-blue eyes stayed open in remaining energy so that he could look the other over with just those and be sure that there were no wounds he missed. What else should he say, now...? Right-- "If you need any more help, I suppose you can call for me. My name is Sort." No sense giving his full name. He was ashamed of it; and if this one knew Danish, his last name would be really peculiar, and he wasn't mentally ready for explaining anything just yet. To everyone but himself, he was just your every-day deer.
Another step back.
(( shower and work now ;3; SHALL REPLY AS SOON AS I GET HOME ))
(No subject)
[ Kitty; hay! c: ] It was
It was loneliness and desperation that had driven Rutilus to where he was now. He hated being left, had taken a strong aversion to it. He couldn't approach deer the way he used to because he didn't want them to run off and hate him.
Which was stupid of him, in his opinion. He hoped this phase would pass, and soon.
His need and love for company made him step forwards as 'Sort' stepped back, ears laid back lightly against his skull. "Rutilus," he replied, while wondering if his name sounded as strange to the stranger as Sort's did to Rutilus. "Where--where you goin'?"
Maybe he'd been wrong and Sort wasn't going to leave at all, but he didn't want to take the chance.
That was a such a becoming
"Nowhere," was an answer come back in much the same way. He felt like he were giving a response to God himself about what he really was going to do with his life now that he had freedom over it. Freedom and utter perplexity.
Rutilus was not an English word he recognized; and since they were the syllables returned to his own name, he had to figure as much that this was the other stag's name. He repeated it while very cautiously lying down where he stood, blue eyes never leaving the same sort of blue. And despite his new position, he had to ask timidly though with a oddly confident air, "If you would like me to leave, I may. I feel I have bothered you..."
Dark lashes bordered the eyes revealed through his ebony mask, vision now half hooded in apology with a head slightly tilted.
He loved hearing other people
He loved hearing other people say his name for the first time. Loved it even more when they messed it up or shortened it because it was a bit long. Rutilus felt relief surge through him when Sort's legs folded underneath him again, and he too lowered himself to the ground, though carefully and slowly.
His descent to the forest ground ended with a thud and a hiss as sharp needles of pain shot up through his injured limb. Rutilus dismissed it however, regaining his composure quickly and realising he should probably convince this mysterious stag that he didn't want him to leave - quite the opposite, in fact.
"Nah, really," he insisted, staring at Sort's eyes for a little too long, averting his gaze afterwards with an embarrassed expression. He wished that he'd kept his mask on, but too late now. "Stay, yeh? You ain't bothered me, promise. Where uh...where you from?"
So this Rutilus did not want
But the actual question... were all of these deer linked to "the human world"? Denmark would be an odd answer to them if that were the case, but he'd probably already come off as peculiar with his habits already. So he chimed, "Denmark." Though this were true--at least, the doctor said that was his language--he didn't have recollection of ever going there. He could only hope Rut (which he pronounced as "root") would steer away from prying so much that he found out things Sort himself hadn't even discovered.
Embarassing, embarassing...
Just to be sure, he gave a small clear of his throat and repositioned a bit to watch over those injuries that obviously still hurt. "What about you...?"
So that was where the accent
"Oh right." The stag tilted his head to the side, starting to seriously regret not backing off in the fight earlier than he had done, because the pain still rippling through his body was...well, painful, of course.
"England." He turned his gaze to the other, questions running through his mind. "So uh...were you human? How'd you get 'ere?" Maybe he was being rude, but he was a curious fellow and Sort didn't -- so far anyway -- seem like the type that would get pissed off with him for the questioning.
Hello~
Mick Kreiger: You Know You Love Me XOXO
[ lolhay ]
Ashy ears dropped; of course
He shook his mind away from finding company in someone else from Europe for the time being in order to give a quieter mutter, his answer truthful and yet still so unsure: "Yes. I still am human, too... my psychiatrist prescribed this forest for me in order to keep myself calm, I suppose. It is my medicine. I am supposed to come here for at least one hour a day until I get better."
Get better... from what, though? He wasn't ill; not in the throw-up kind of manner, anyway. All that they would repeatedly tell him was that his former self forgotten from a fall was an absolute monster. And that was an understatement. Any other adjective to replace monster... all of those were an understatement, too. And he had no idea.
He could have said more, but he figured that was enough. This was already making himself look about as odd as he probably came across and the risk of losing someone he had a chance to talk with would be foolish.
The reply was so quiet
He wondered why Sort had to 'get better', and why he needed the Forest to do so. It seemed like it would be desperate if the forest was required, because as far as Rutilus knew, doctors prescribed pills and meditation to calm people down.
Or something like that.
"Good luck keepin' track of time in this place," Rutilus joked with a wry smile. "But uh, that's pretty...interestin'. What's wrong with you? Like if it's not too private." He frowned, worrying that Sort might be asked this question all the time.
Another good question. Though
There was far more, of course. The concept of having had three wings sprouted from his back when he was found, and having had his eyes range from red to purple. To be truthful, a few does had seen them be red; but they were supposed to be blue. Every time he looked at himself... blue.
His irises were blue. He fell from a bridge by accident, the wings were an illusion, and not being able to fall asleep or have a memory past "being born" when he "woke up" was completely normal. All these a brainwashing attempt to lie to himself that he was absolutely fine. This was all just a mistake.
Exhale... "Since our questions are not too private anymore... may I ask instead how you became injured, too...?"
His head tilted slowly to the
"Weird, that. Really weird."
Rutilus, being a proud-ish stag, was quite pleased with himself for defending Stelmaria and Dajhi so well, but he was disappointed that he hadn't actually been able to beat the large zombie deer, whoever they had been. It wasn't his fault, he reasoned; he'd had to leave, or he'd have ended up endangering Lin as well. And Rutilus would never risk that.
"And I uh...got myself into a fight," he replied casually, turning his sky-eyed gaze away in an attempt to act like it happened every day. "Some bastard was harassing these does so I thought I'd help."
Now that he thought about it, he hadn't been acting like a 'typical stag' by defending them and not letting them fight, shielding them with his body. No; instead, Rutilus had rather tried to intimidate the foe first, and when that didn't work, he'd fought alongside the does -- and the other deer that had eventually joined in -- to try and defeat it. He wouldn't kill; no, no, he wouldn't kill. But he would fight, certainly.
"I've been told I'm too reckless. D'you spar, fight?"
So he was a reckless sort of
Was he just trying to wear a tough coat to hide sensitivity?
Actually... who is that question even really for...?
Those slated, ocean eyes hooded again while gracing downwards to stare over the blades of grass bent below his weight. Shifting, he cocked his head a bit to ponder for a silent few seconds about sparring. "Ingen," he mused, spacing off a bit as he confirmed that he probably wouldn't. "Oh--no, I mean. But it depends. I mean, if I knew the person, or... the circumstances and stuff, then maybe. But I don't know. I don't... know." I don't know anything.
His first thought was that
A different language, then? He did say he was Danish. Not that Rutilus would have been able to tell the difference between any languages aside from whether or not it was English - or perhaps Latin.
Rutilus tilted his head, an almost amused smile on his face as Sort gave a complex-ish answer to the golden stag's question. He chuckled. "I get it, don't strain yourself." He offered a smile, then looked briefly towards the deer-mask lying discarded by his side. His gaze turned towards Sort again, once more taking in his appearance.
His eyes were pretty.
Shut up.
"I kinda wish I was new here, y'know. Gets dull after a while. Boring. S'why I spend most of time back out in the...y'know, the human world, your world."
He was a human, too! Was
A small smile.
Smiling wasn't too rare with Sort, but getting him to do so was certainly a feat to feel a little cherished over. It was just such a sweet and mysterious kind of thing to have upon his lips.
(( LOLRUT you bi. ))
The corners of his mouth
The corners of his mouth twitched upwards; Rutilus chuckled. He was glad that Sort was human; it saved him from the possible troubles that could come with saying just the word around deer, because sometimes they didn't know, or had had bad experiences with humans in the past.
Sort's accurate guess at Rut's hair colour amused him; but it was obvious, really, what with his pelt. But the 'rich house' part was completely off, and even made him laugh. He, too, wondered if they lived nearby - wondered if he'd passed him in the street one day or walked into him, or splashed muddy water all over him with his beloved silver motorbike.
"Rich? God no, mate, no," he laughed, then leaned against the rock beside him, sighing as his wounds and cuts burned. "Nah--aow--nah, I'm poor. But yeah, blonde hair," Rutilus smiled, then looked away for a few seconds. "Be weird if we'd met before, eh?"
"Poor?" A wrinkle of his nose
Blond hair... he had to wonder, then, what the style was. It bothered him for whatever reason that trying to envision this Rutilus as a man was so hard; and even then, how old was he...? Where did he really live and would they even have personalities that made for a friendship?
(( short but I have to help with laundry so ;3; THESETWOARE<3THOUGH ))
(( I KNOW MAN
"D'you not 'ave dark hair, then?" He looked at Sort curiously, blue eyes flicking over the two-coloured pelt. Perhaps his pelt had no resemblance to his hair at all - but still Rutilus couldn't help but imagine him with dark hair, perhaps a dark brown. Or maybe it was like Cirrus' - black and white. Or maybe Rutilus was wrong and Sort was blonde or ginger.
Hell, electric blue, maybe.
Rut wondered what Sort's place looked like. An apartment, probably, if he was poorer than him. Maybe in some huge city. Maybe the walls were thick with grime. Maybe they had once been white and were now a dusty, grimy grey-green. Maybe his sofa had burst and maybe he slept on a mattress on the floor.
So many 'maybes' and he wasn't going to voice any of them.
"Just seemed like you would. It's your fur, bein' dark 'n...well, half-dark. The rest's white."
Good one, Rut, state the obvious and make y'self look like an idiot.
(( LOL I know ;; I feel bad,
"Mm, my hair is black. Actually.. in the sun, it is a very dark purple. But black otherwise." A short chuckle showed he found this amusing, the way they were guessing accurately as if they really did know each other in some past life. Yet, they didn't. At all. Even more absurd was how all of Rutilus's thinking was just as correct.
Speaking of pelts, then, Sort mauled over how much he liked the golden one better; so much color, whereas he was just black-and-white with--there, just two blue eyes completely showcased by all the other gray-scale set coated on him. Not to mention Rut's fur was a bit longer than his; Sortsand's was about as short as a Labrador's coat, if not even sleeker yet. It shined like some silky seal's hide in the sun just as his hair as a human did--because despite how he lived, he still somehow came off as a uniquely-dressed individual with a natural aroma of seasoned salt mixed with an ocean air. It wasn't entirely cologne... it was really just how his skin was. Certainly not human to have a smell like that, but at least it covered how he might really come off as should he live in "dirt" like he did.
So, being the truthful and completely honest, still-confused individual that he was, he thought it only right to give a compliment back (since he'd taken Rutilus's correct guess as such). "You're rather beautiful, Rutilus." Besides that, maybe it would help cheer the wound-laced one up.
And it was true, anyway. Though he hadn't meant it to screw with sexualities, he didn't know his and therefore had a right. It came off as sweet as he smiled saying it, too.
((C-Can I ask a favor? ;;
May I test out Italy on Freddie? I've always wanted to rp with him~
JUST TELL ME TO LEAVE IF YOU DUN WANNA D: ))
[ Her; I look forward to
Gingy; YESSSSS. YES. ;A; Human or deer? ]
Dark purple, but black otherwise... He smiled slightly, quite pleased with himself for guessing mostly-right - but it wasn't that difficult, what with Sort's pelt colour. Although, he saw no hints of dark purple in there. Ah well.
Rutilus felt his lips quirk into a smile when Sort called him something that he himself would not have dared say to another male, much less himself; beautiful. He was aware that he was handsome, yes, but beautiful wasn't something he remembered being called before. Had it been someone else, he was sure he'd have either punched (well, gored) them or laughed at them. But this was Sort, and somehow, he was a bit different - in more ways than one, too. More interesting and much nicer than Lorak, too, despite the original similarities Rut had thought they had.
"...Thanks," was the gold-furred stag's eventual reply, after he'd battled with his own brain in an attempt to find something suitable to say. He didn't feel that Sort was being queer; just sweet, really. Perhaps he was just that kind of truthful person. "So what--uhm..." Rutilus frowned. "Nevermind." And honestly, he had no idea what he'd even been going to ask Sort. Should he have returned the compliment?
Nah, that'd be gay.
Bugger.
Kylar's hair floated gently
Lightning, the colour of gold, sparlkles around him. His shirt lay loose, revealing some of the perfect six pack underneath. A lean boy, his muscles were somewhat unexpected, he looked like he should be one of those people that are completely flat, their skin sitting over them, just loose enough to be perfectly straight.
[Rutilus plz]
Mick Kreiger: You Know You Love Me XOXO
(( Sort's 26 8o WHAT'S THAT
"What...?" He let his ears perk forward with a butterfly-like sort of blink, light and ponderous. There was no offense that Rutilus hadn't completed his thought to someone he'd just met a few minutes ago, but worry that it was something he could have helped.
Again, like some sort of doctor, he scanned Mr. Phoebus with slate eyes--more out of ritual because he often had to do the same to his own skin, and he was used to something like this with his own doctors. He was the usual case of amnesia, but they still wouldn't let go of the fact that the three parallel scars on his back wouldn't close up or stop bleeding at random intervals.
Thank God he didn't have them as a deer. Not as of yet, anyway. So there certainly was one thing he'd cling to in gratitude when in the forest...
"It's alright, Rut." Root. Stupid accent... apparently, it had used to be almost nonexistant when he knew English and the American's voice so well, but, whatever.
((UHHHH... Maybe human...
There was something... odd about the man that strolled down the street, humming a tune to himself. He wore a gentle, soft smile on his face, a sort of absent-minded smile. His hair was a dull ginger, flat save for a single strand that curled out to the side of his head, bouncing gaily as he took each step.
He stopped short at what appeared to be a tiny cafe. A run-down hole in the wall, you could say. The white, concrete walla were stained a hideous black all around, as if the corner building itself was suffering a horrid illness.
Nevertheless, in the man went, carlessly letting the door fall back behind him as he scanned the room, obliviousness etched over his features, and a small frown tugging on the corners of his lips. The tables were all full... Oh, how awful! Ah... He'd have to find someone to sit with, then.
Still, there was the matter of food, first. The man, being Italy itself, of course got himself a generous supply of mozzarella sticks and garlic sauce.
Plate in hand, the man picked a table at random, one that contained a man with lengthy black hair, and promptly sat down in front of him, looking more and more oblivious as the seconds went by.
"Hello there~" he raised his hand in greeting to the man in front of him, his light italian accent fluctuating as he spoke. "There's a lot of people here... Isn't there?" he asked casually, his voice gentle, yet with a odd twist of energy laced in it.
((LOL I basically reused the setting with Olay xD God, I'm so uncreative...))
Mick Boredom had forced him
Boredom had forced him out of his apartment and into the streets. Rutilus had been leaning against a lamp post, cigarette in hand even if the doctor had said he really needed to stop smoking. He didn't care - you only live once, after all. Unless you're Lorak.
Rutilus' gaze was, predictably, caught by the unusual light that shone down on Kylar. It was dark. Why indeed was he illuminated like that?
He didn't say anything at first, but then curiousity got the best of him.
"You a walking glow stick, mate?"
Her
[ It means Rut's getting OOOLD in his view whurrhurrhurr. ]
The way Sort pronounced Rutilus' most common nickname made him smile - because that was the way he'd started to prefer people say it after a certain stag had called him Rut Butt relentlessly.
Immature brat.
Dead now, though. And Rutilus didn't like thinking about that time in his life...
"Mm." The stag flicked an ear and then turned his head, neck twisting so that he could try and look at the wounds over his body. "Can I ask a question?" He didn't really wait for an answer, plunging on instead. "D'you think these'll scar me?"
The worried look that creased his unmasked face made it clear that Rutilus didn't wish to be scarred. He valued his looks, and scars weren't on his wishlist.
He wondered if, in the human world, Sort was scarred.
GingerNut
It came as a mild surprise to him when he suddenly found himself face to face with a ginger-haired, Italian-accented man who had apparently decided to just park themselves at Freddie's table. The cafe wasn't Freddie's favourite place; hell no, it was far too dirty and disgraceful for him. But he'd seen worse. And he didn't have a lot of money.
Freddie's choice of appearance was different to what it had been towards the end of his life; in his old life and world, he had outgrown the glitter and glamour. But now that his age had been reversed and changed and such, he liked it again. Which was unusual. And he figured he'd eventually stop liking it, too.
"Yes," he replied lightly after a few seconds, chocolate-brown eyes studying the stranger over the rim of the mug Freddie was holding. This person didn't seem intimidating; far from it. To Freddie, they looked very...childish, almost, in their obliviousness towards the world at large. And the voice sounded both reassuring and energetic. Strange.
How many mozzarella sticks could they eat?
"A bit too crowded for my liking. What's your name?"
"Mhm~" he picked up a single
"I'm Italy~" he offered another gentle smile. "Or you can call me Feliciano if you don't like Italy~ It dosen't matter~" the smile on his face was perpetual, never leaving, and never faltering, as if he ran on happiness.
"What about you?" he asked, taking a few dainty bites from his own dish, pushing it to the middle so that the man could take some if he so desired.
Well.. that wasn't the
It wasn't something he could think about for long, though, being as new as he was. From the looks of it, he'd be able to figure out the answer for himself sooner than later...
"If it helps, I don't look much like I do here as I do... there." A shrug was managed as best he could in this form, and at that point, he had to fight back nodding off. Something about staying here finally got him to feel at least some source of fatigue. But--he wouldn't do it; he was with company, and interesting one, at that. Letting himself go to sleep in front of the other... absolutely not.
Instead, he smiled again. Masking it.
[ sorry this took so long!
GingerNut
Ah, what a true Italian; complaining about lack of pasta, but grateful that there was pizza! Freddie's lips quirked upwards, though he then hid his protruding teeth with his upper lip.
"Italy?" What an unusual name - and followed by another unusual alias that was completely unrelated to 'Italy' but did sound Italian. It was a strange case of irony, apparently. "I'll...I'll stick with Italy."
"I'm Freddie," the Parsi replied after, glancing down at the dish and mentally rejecting it. "You're erm...Italian, aren't you? Silly question, but..."
Her
Rutilus just nodded as Sort spoke, a faint frown on his face. He sighed, looking past the stag, to the golden grasses instead. It took him quite a while to speak again.
"You in't got any brothers then, sisters..." A guessing statement, rather than a question. "I 'ave one of each, but enough 'bout 'em."
[ sorry that was so half-assed I'm tiiired 8C ]
"I do get a lotta shags with
Mick Kreiger: You Know You Love Me XOXO
((I love him even more now...
The curl to the side of his head seemed to bounce up and down. "Not just italian. I am Italy~" he nodded, giggling slightly. "I'm a country! Just like Germany~" his face temporarily took on a vacant look, as if he had remembered something, then his lips lifted back up into another wide smile.
"Freddie? M'kay... Why are you all alone, Freddie?" he frowned a little, his shoulders slumping in despair. "..."
He picked up one of the myriad cheese sticks from the plate and leaned over the table to push it towards the man's face, sad eyes sparkling with tears.
"Mm~?" he poked the food towards Freddie's mouth, offering him to take it.
A sister. Some part of him
True. Always true, with him.
He also tried hiding a small ping of wondering hurt about why Mr. Root couldn't look at him anymore. He did notice things like this...
Mick His lip curled up in
His lip curled up in disgust. Queer. But it wasn't just that that got him; it was the fact that this 'Kylar' was so open about it, and Rutilus guessed that this guy was probably quite flirtatious. Great, he thought sarcastically. The fact that this man could apparently control the light surrounding him didn't bother Rut too much, but he figured that it would've been more...sensible for the guy to just turn it off, Christ.
"Rutilus." He put the cigarette he was holding inbetween his lips and then shook Kylar's hand very briefly, as if he'd get a disease if he touched the other for too long. Rut took his cigarette back into his hand again, exhaling a breath of smoke. "You live 'round here then?" He prayed that the other didn't think he was hitting on him - not only was Rutilus 'not gay', but he also had no idea what age Kylar was. Younger than him, probably. Everyone is these days. That was a lie, but it felt truthful.
GingerNut
Chocolate-coloured eyes followed that odd little curly hair at the side of Italy's head, and then he frowned in bewilderment. Freddie decided not to comment on the strange 'I-am-a-country' thing, figuring that he probably didn't want to know.
"I'm--" The Persian man blinked, eyes darting down to the cheese stick being held to his mouth, then to meet the eyes of a very sad-looking Italy. What had he done to make him cry? Freddie gently took the cheese stick with two fingers, but didn't eat it just yet. "What? What's wrong?" Dark eyebrows pulled down mournfully.
Her
Rutilus shook his head at this, declining the invitation to speak about his siblings whose lives had become filled with drama - and a lot of it was thanks to he himself. Jared, he figured, was the most secure. After all, the gazelle-deer now had grandchildren.
"Nah, there's not much to--to--" His speech was interrupted by a yawn, during which he turned his face away, eyes squeezed shut. "...Sorry. It's--it's these damn scratches 'n stuff, wear me out."
He leaned back into his
"Hug?~" he stood up, holding his arms out, eyes pleading. "When I'm sad, Germany always hugs me to make me feel better. Maybe that will work for you~" he paused, and then sat back down, smiling warmly.
"Or you can talk about it~ Getting things off your chest is good, too~" he nodded to himself, as if declaring it so.
Cocky homophobe this one was.
"It's around...huh...suppose you do look like you need a good shagging," Kylar said. "Loosen you up a bit." He smirked at the man's stiffness. Rutilus, however, was a pretty name, upon an equally handsome boy. Under different circumstances, their meeting could result in quite a happy ending, or so Kylar believed. The boy was similar to himself in appearance, and was probably similar in his own straight way. Likely, he had no end of women to himself.
Kylar dimmed the tiny lightning strikes that were causing the light around him even more. He hoped that Rutilus might be lulled into a false sense of security and decide to attack him. For then, then the sadistic fun would begin, and by the end of it Rutilus would be somewhat different.
[ebill kylar is ebil]
Mick Kreiger: You Know You Love Me XOXO
(( I'll keep mine short since
If Rutilus didn't want to extend on the topic of his own relatives, then he wasn't going to be one to barge even if it did catch him a little off-guard on the more thinly offended side. Yet, here again, he pushed his own feelings aside in order to relax as he spoke simply: "I can leave you alone to sleep, if you'd like. There's really no trouble at all."
[ again, sorry for the delay
GingerNut
This man's behaviour both bewildered and intrigued the other. He made no move to hug the other, glancing sideways and wondering if anyone was watching them and wondering why 'Italy' was acting so strange.
How could one man 'be' a country? Freddie figured it was probably a lie - but he'd seen and heard of too many strange, shouldn't-exist things in this world to really believe so.
"I'm fine, er, Italy, really." The dark-haired man offered a small smile, carefully trying not to show his protruding teeth. "I'm fine. Are you allright?"
Mick
Rutilus' gaze turned sharp at Kylar's remark, and he let his cigarette fall to the ground before crushing it with one boot. He struggled to think of some witty remark to shoot back with, but found none, to his surprise and irritation. The urge to wipe that damn smirk off of Kylar's handsome -- though not my type, mate -- face was near-unbearable. It wasn't because Kylar was clearly gay - it was that Rutilus didn't like it when people looked like that, made him feel that he'd been beaten or humiliated.
Sky-blue eyes watched as the light dimmed, and Rut sighed, leaning sideways against the lamp post beside him and folding his arms across his muscular chest. "Why, you want a go?" He snorted, and looked away, regretting even joking about that. "'Cause I'm no fucking poof, mate." Oh, what a lie. Even if he was in denial, Rutilus was aware that he was certainly not entirely straight.
For a few seconds, Rutilus couldn't help but wonder what a 'good shagging' to 'loosen him up a bit' with Kylar would be like. But those thoughts faded very quickly, because frankly, it made him feel sick and uneasy to think about that. And he'd only just met this que--guy.
Christ, maybe he needed to talk to Jared.
Her
It was impossible for him not to feel guilty for being tired and losing the will to speak as much as he had been doing before; Sort had been terribly considerate and kind to him, and seemed interested in Rut's life. But then, Rut was interested in Sort's life, and it would surely be more interesting than his own.
"Wot? Nah nah, stay, c'mon I'm still awake," he insisted, ears flattening against his head, blue eyes gazing apologetically at the black and white stag. "Don't you remember y'parents? Sorry, bet everyone bloody asks you these questions..." He muttered, trailing off in embarrassment.
[ baw Allice, your consideration makes me smile <3 ]
"You're less attractive than
He placed a hand on Rutilus's shoulder, and sent a charge through it, that would cause some pain, but nothing too much. "Also, I wouldn't call me a poof, unless you wanna end up in a hospital with some serious burns," He said. "Kay?" He added cheerily, with a happy playful grin, the execution of which made him seem a little crazy, like one of those people that could all of a sudden snap into a horrific spree of violence with their fists and feet.
It gave the appearance that Kylar was deadly. He was, but that wouldn't really be unleashed unless it was totally necessary. Kylar preferred to manouver his way out of situations without too much overt violence, it made it easier. Since usually they wouldn't come back with all their homophobic friends then. They usually did if you landed them in the hospital. Then you had to generally either land them all in hospital or kill one of them, before the message that you were to be left alone and feared sank into their tiny closed mind brains.
Mick Kreiger: You Know You Love Me XOXO