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Fruitsnacks

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About Fruitsnacks

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  • Birthday November 11

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  1. The chill of her smile and sickly stare remained steadfast through the guards' exchange of piqued looks. Ultimately, they looked back to her, dismissing her eerie oddity as just another of the Black City's charming perks. With a slight bow of his head, the guard nearest her replied, "Right this way, Ma'am." The other maintained his post while this one turned and held the door open for their bizarre guest - she glided by with hardly a sound, and he frowned upon the trail of her dress. Were those specks of ice upon the ground? Couldn't be. Must be imagining things. Shoulda gone easy on th' mead. She waited just inside for him to take the lead, for the time being pretending to take interest in the building's exquisite interior - mostly, she merely needed to distract her anxious mind. What are you doing here? Why the mortals? Where are your precious toys? At last, the guard rejoined her. "Follow me. It's just up these stairs." He gestured towards the beginnings of a spiraling case, without so much as a second thought or care spared her way. Curiosity gripped her, casting her nerves into a held breath. ...Do they not know You, and the company You keep? She followed in silence, a stray glance flickering here or there to note the peculiar decor - ornaments, tapestries, portraits... Distantly, as they ascended the twisting tower, she could feel the hush of mortal warmth - and they, amidst their studies, could sense her, though not even their tutors could make sense of the ancient presence they felt in their halls. A capped head popped out of a doorway lining the staircase, another lingering just beyond the threshold. They both exchanged a greeting nod with the guard, watching as the pair continued their ascent. "Can't be a day over twenty-four, I'd wager." "The poor thing... Rather plain, too." The gossip sooner informed than bothered - provided her context to continue fleshing out her impressions of this tedious city and its petty populace. What purpose do they serve? Are You building a mortal army? How?! At last, they came to a stop before a grand door, the guard announcing their arrival with a measured succession of three firm knocks. No words were needed - he'd already been notified through more efficient means. After a brief pause to let the Lore-Spire's Master prepare, the guard pulled open the heavy door and stood to one side. "In here, Ma'am," he instructed with another bowed head, one arm bent across his waist. She nodded to him in kind, but hardly offered him any more notice as she drifted inside the peculiar room. As much to sate her intrigue as to challenge her colleague's dominance, she let her eyes wander about the room, ignoring Him in favor of lazily taking in every detail. The more she saw, the more confounded she grew - sure, He had always been known for life's excesses, but even this was a bit... Well, "much" wasn't quite the right word. It wasn't the amount that perplexed her, but rather the breed. There was rich wood in place of bone, candles in place of torches, carpets in place of naked, quivering souls... The bookshelves were a nice touch, but one which earned Him a scoff as she turned to warily draw near the one to her right, eyes narrowed. "...Don't recognize me, hm?" she muttered idly, the back of her mind taking note of His odd words. When have You ever been one to tire of "trouble"? ...Does He truly not know who I am? She paused for a moment to consider this, eyes glazing over the various spines filling His shelves. Should she allow Him to remain ignorant? ...No. You shan't make a fool of me. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised," she continued, left hand lifting to negligently flick the air. As she did, a coil of green smoke fell from her fingertips, trickling down her flesh like the slip of a gentle, sheer veil. As it did, it seemed to eat away at her, as though some vile acid were rending the very fibers of her being. Despite the grotesque display, her expression remained unchanged, save for when it, too melted away into little more than a skull. The smoke crawled down her full height, her clothes wrinkling from the loss of volume, until it finally devoured the entire left half of her body, leaving behind nothing but a corpse. The hairless head turned to find Him at last, a single right eye falling upon Him, mounted over a half-grin. It seemed some quip had been at the tip of her tongue, but as her half-lips parted it fell apart. Her eye looked Him head-to-toe, at once intrigued and disgusted by what she saw. Eventually, she found her words again, but where her manner had previously rang lofty and arrogant it now seemed outright befuddled. "...I sensed Your power was dampened, but... this?" Is it desperation or a lack of shame which brings You falling to such depths? Her expression turned irate, a scowl wrinkling the right half of her face, jarring beside the emotionless skull of her left. Gesturing towards the rest of the room, she snarled, "It's all very mortal of You, isn't it? But You will not fool me with these putrid trinkets!" Both hands clenched into fists, she faced him fully and moved towards him, the floor frosting at her feet, the air chilling at her breath. "What game are You playing at, Beelzebub?!"
  2. +Minnow+ While Grani went off in search of a cloth, Minnow picked up Bingo to give him a good, hard look over. She found his beady little eyes and frowned - well, more like pouted... As much as she tried to show anger, she was fraught with worry, and it colored her every expression and movement. "I just wanna help you, Bingo..." she murmured, all too belatedly realizing Grani had already returned. For a moment she stared blankly at him and the cloth in his hands, trying to recall what it was he'd said. When it came to her, she blinked and her face brightened. "Oh! Sorry! Yeah, vegetable oil should work OK, if you have it?" She placed Bingo back down on the table and reached out to retrieve the towel. Her face screwed up a bit, her eyes glancing off and her lips pursing - then, she was suddenly spitting a wad of saliva into the cloth, which she scrunched into the towel before taking the moistened textile to Bingo's surface. As she started rubbing it around his metal plates, she continued, "The oil helps lubricate his parts. See, machines are made of a bunch of different metal pieces that rub against each other when they move. Like..." Her eyes drifted aside in thought, then brightened when she saw the legs of the other chair. "Like that chair! If you were to drag it across the floor, it'd grate a bit, and eventually start to damage both the legs and the floor. That's why you gotta kinda lift it a bit when you pull it out." It distantly occurred to her he probably didn't have any personal experience with that... but, maybe he'd seen Brandon do it enough times to know what she was talking about? "A-Anyway," she continued, hoping she hadn't disgruntled him again, "the oil serves as what's called a lubricant. It makes it easier for Bingo's parts to move around, and prevents them from hurting each other when they do." As she worked the cloth around Bingo, periodically spitting into it some more, his surfaces slowly but surely got mildly brighter, the grime steadily rubbing off so his bronze, tin, and gold pieces could all shine. Of course, these simple techniques wouldn't restore him to his original splendor... but it was still a fairly significant improvement. Smiling as she continued to work, she replied, "Vegetable oil should work just fine if you have it. Anything slick and greasy like that. If not, though, that's okay - he's running real low on energy, so he probably won't be able to move around much anyhow."
  3. ⥊Hel⥋ All too late, Hel realized her mistake, her eyes widening in the face of Slejpner's reaction to her words. Curses... I can't afford to be so careless! You're slipping, Little Queen. She grit her teeth, pushing the superiority of her counterparts from her mind. She had to focus, to choose her words carefully and maintain control. How could she explain this? Spin it in such a way to win back her brother's full trust and devotion? Was such a thing even possible anymore? She was still struggling to construct her lie when Slejpner suddenly gripped his head in apparent pain. Genuine concern had her reaching towards him, wanting to see what was wrong and how she might correct it - not out of any love for her brother, but rather because he was far too valuable to her for him to be compromised in any way. She furrowed her brow in a show of sympathy - inwardly, relief settled her nerves somewhat. "...Slejpner, you are still ill, still recovering from your return to life." Her small hands found his, folding into his palms to move them from his head and hold them tight. "Your weariness fuels a paranoia which twists my words," she insisted, searching to meet his gaze, eyes glistening with faux worry. "I care nothing for Asgard, nor the cruel and traitorous creatures who would dare call themselves our 'family.'" This is a waste of time! The Devil leers closer with every passing second - He could be watching us in this very moment! Bowing her head, she allowed her shoulders to slump, as if weighted by some heavy burden. "Please understand, Brother... I hate them so, with all of my being... Yet, I am still beholden to them, still bound by Odin to the cold desolation of Helheim. So long as that remains true, so do I remain trapped." At last, a carriage came into view, momentarily stealing her attention so she could reach out and desperately wave it down. At the driver's nod and returned wave, she sighed with relief, then sought Slejpner's eyes once more. "I am sorry, Brother. Truly, I am. But, until I find a way to at last break free and rid myself of Asgard's hold, I must do all I can to protect Helheim, lest Odin grow suspicious of my activities and whereabouts... and that means meeting The Devil head-on, lest He catch me off guard - or worse, involve Anubis and the others." She let her expression turn to pleading, forcing her lower lip to lightly tremble. "It's the best way I know to protect you from them. Can you find it within yourself to forgive me?" I grow weary of this foolishness. I need my answer... I must cement Slejpner's subjugation once and for all, that I might at last be done with this tiresome game!
  4. My muse wouldn't shut up, so here's the thing :U
  5. Please, please, friend of mine, always be here Lights flashed throughout the stadium, showering the crowd in brilliant, multi-colored light. Please, please, friend of mine, teach me not to fear Everyone in attendance sang alongside their beloved idol, their voices so loud the electric, upbeat music had to struggle to maintain acoustic dominance over the venue. When the shadows fall, let me never run away A single girl bounced about upon the stage, a mic in one hand while the other waved about, swinging her eclectic assortment of cat-themed accessories about and helping her strike a myriad of wild poses. And when the sun returns let me trust in you always MiMi-Chan's concert lasted nearly an hour, an energetic feat her rivals envied. No one could believe her overnight success - JSTAR Productions had picked her up seemingly out of nowhere, and rumors held that the crowds she drew saved them from going under. The attention unsettled more than a few, however, not the least of whom waited anxiously in the young star's dressing room. Hands squeezing each other so tight their knuckles turned white, leg shaking so rapidly it felt close to drilling through the floor, the hooded stranger struggled to ignore the quiet, simple clock ticking away upon the wall. The sounds of the concert still reached this room, but were too dampened to give any concrete idea of how far through the setlist MiMi-Chan had performed - how much still remained. The first swell in cheers teased the end of this hell - a skipped heartbeat preceded a pitching of the stomach as the realization set in that an encore number had been arranged. It'll be over soon, at least. Not much longer. She only does one encore, right? The final minutes of the concert felt like the longest, droning on and on like a nightmare that just wouldn't end. When the mind felt it might very well go mad, at last the second roar of the crowd exploded. A tense few seconds followed - was this finally it? Had the concert at last drawn to an end? The hooded stranger hung upon the distant sounds, searching desperately for the slightest sign of music, pleading it would never come. The door swung open. The paranoid visitor jumped from their seat, spinning around in the dark room to spot the intruder. "Ahh, arigatou, arigatou~! MiMi-Chan will be quick - I promise!!!" As soon as MiMi-Chan shut the door, the figure collided into her, arms coiling tightly around her torso and face buried into the crook of her neck. The idol giggled, offering not the slightest resistance. "Ohayo, LiLi-chan~! I missed you, too!" The visitor reluctantly loosed her arms, allowing MiMi-Chan to reach over and flick on the lights. "I hate these concerts," she muttered, a single somber eye staring up at the idol - the left eye remained hidden behind long, thick strands of dark hair. "I know, I know," MiMi-Chan replied, dropping the heightened pitch and overplayed chirp of her voice. "I'm sorry to worry you, Malina. Really, I am." Malina sighed, shaking her head and turning around to find the room's table. "I just... Mitomi, if someone found out..." She slid her backpack from her shoulder, dropping the heavy thing upon the table. Mitomi followed, her gait far more relaxed than her friend's, pulling out and collapsing into a chair. "Even if they did, what could they do? The Osaka pack claim me as one of their own. They wouldn't be able to do anything without breaking the Accords - you know this." Malina frowned, unfastening and reaching into her backpack. "And you know there are some who don't need an excuse to do just that." She shook her head, her gaze wandering to look over her friend. "You're... managing well... ?" At that, the idol hesitated. She appeared to struggle with her words, then ultimately decided words wouldn't be enough. Reaching up with one of her gloved hands, she delicately felt the area around her right eye, eventually finding and tucking her fingertip beneath the edge of a thin, silicone cosmetic. The sheet covered nearly a quarter of her face, fully circling her eye, blended to perfection with a creative and expert application of makeup. Once removed, she revealed a pattern of dark scales all but filling the area her mask had hidden away. Malina gasped, her eyes widening. "Mitomi!!!" she cried, hand suddenly wrenching out of her backpack. Without a moment's hesitation, she tore open the medical packet in her hands, a vial and a syringe dropping onto the table. Her hands scrambled, frantically stabbing the syringe through the vial's rubber stopper to draw out the crimson concoction within. "Are you insane?! How long has it been since your last dose???" Mitomi pouted, guiltily looking away. Though she sported an obvious contact to give herself a cat-like left eye, upon closer inspection it didn't match her right eye. Firstly, the right eye appeared far more real. Secondly, even without the context of the surrounding scales, the right eye looked distinctly reptilian in nature. "...It makes me queasy," she admitted, still refusing to meet Malina's gaze. A stray hand brushed Mitomi's hair aside. No further warning preceded the sudden, sharp stab of the syringe into her neck - but that pain paled beside the sear that soon raced through her veins. A half-cry escaped before she clapped a hand over mouth, eyes clenched tight and watering in a desperate attempt to remain silent. Unfortunately, it was too late, a knock rapping against her door. "MiMi-san? Daijobu?" She squirmed in her seat, wriggling her pain out of her system until Malina had at last finished her injection. At that moment, and not a second sooner, she released her mouth with a relieved gasp, then twisted in her chair to quickly call out, "H-Hai, Tashizaku-san! Daijobu!!!" Malina remained tense through this brief exchange, staring warily at the door until she was certain Mitomi's guard was satisfied, ready to flee at the first sign she'd been discovered. Both girls relaxed after a few outstretched moments of silence, Mitomi slumping wearily in her chair. "...Thank you, LiLi-chan." She put on a smile, knowing how much her friend leaned upon her cheer. "I don't know what I'd do without you!" Malina grew somber, her brow furrowing with her own breed of pain. "Of course," she breathed. "You're my--" Before she could finish, Mitomi silenced her with a wad of folded cash pressed against her lips. "Don't say it," she interrupted, still wearing her smile despite the tremble in her voice. Malina swallowed her words with a nod, but took the cash and handed it back to Mitomi. "...Even still, I can't take this." "You must," Mitomi insisted, wrapping her hands around Malina's and pushing it back against her friend's chest. She stood up as she did - already, the medicine was taking effect, the scales around her eye fading into flesh and the slit of her eye rounding into a normal pupil circled in a yellow iris. "You need it to help the others. I told you - my agent doesn't care! Who's he to watch how I spend my personal fun money?" Her friend's grin didn't provide much comfort - still, Malina knew Mitomi well enough to know there'd be no further debating the matter. "...'Fun money,' huh? That's one way to call it, I guess..." As she tucked the money in her back pocket, she watched Mitomi take her bag to a corner of the room, where she knelt beside a small, key-coded chest. Though Mitomi had seemingly easily hid her corruptions into the characterization of her idol image, Malina couldn't even imagine doing the same, instead doing everything to remain hidden, unknown, worthless - it was the best way she knew to slip by The Clave's persistent hounds unnoticed. As far as she claimed, anyway. Mitomi had pointed out on a number of occasions that looting shipments of The Clave's coveted antidote didn't exactly aid her efforts. The pair had so much to talk about, but shouting down the hall cut Malina's visit short. "Hey! You're not allowed back here!" "Eh? You can see me? Guess the rumors about JSTAR hiring wolves are true, then!" Malina grit her teeth, then looked to Mitomi with full-on panic. "Quick!" Mitomi cried in a hush, tossing Malina back her bag and kicking her chest behind the veil of her hanging costumes. Swift to her feet, she grabbed the chair and ran to another side of the room, lining herself up below a ceiling vent. "...Back off, Shadow Hunter. We've done nothing to warrant you meddling in our business affairs!" "Oh, relax, Fido. I'm just here to visit MiMi-chan! I'm a big fan, you know!" As she climbed onto the chair, Malina grabbed Mitomi's shoulder, gripping it tight. "Come with me. I can get you out of here! You'll be way safer away from all this Downworlder bullshit!" Mitomi repaid the words with a tight hug and a soft whisper. "What's the point if we can't embrace life to the fullest?" She moved away just enough to cup her friend's face, beaming up with a teary gaze. Her other hand slipped her fingers in Malina's hair and drew it behind her ear, at last revealing a reptilian left eye within the scar of a freshly-drawn, upside-down rune. "Father made us this way... but he can't force us to be afraid of who we are." "VIP line's that way, asshole. Go wait with everyone else if you're so damn eager to meet a little girl!" "Come on, a big guy like me, standing in that crowd? How would that look? Not too great for business, I'll promise you that!" Malina trembled, one hand hanging from the edge of the vent. She, too, reached out to cup her friend's face, completing the circle. As the pair gazed deeply into each other's eyes, she shakily whispered, "Where thou diest, will I die..." Mitomi choked the tears back from her smile, finishing in kind, "...and there will I be buried." A loud bang shook the room as the hallway confrontation worsened. "M-MiMi-san! Take cover!!!" It stole a moment of their attentions, but just as quickly Malina took to hoisting herself into the vent, Mitomi throwing all of her strength into boosting the other girl. The very instant Malina's feet disappeared into the darkness above, Mitomi yanked the vent's grate shut - not a second later, the door burst open, a pair of men tumbling onto the floor. Mitomi spun around and released a shrill, "Eeeeeeek!!!" Hidden inside the vent, Malina marveled at how easily Mitomi had slipped back into character. "T-T-Tashizaku-san! What's happening~?!" Mitomi was stalling - playing the naive and unsuspecting child in order to buy Malina time. As much as it pained her to leave her friend's side, Malina dared not squander that precious gift. After all, when it came to tracking Blights, Shadow Hunters were rarely sent in alone...
  6. Premise With the rest of their world distracted by Valentine Morgenstern and the Mortal Cup, a new evil began to grow within a small Institute tucked away in a remote town. For decades, The Clave ignored the Institute's pleas for additional support, asserting that there were far greater concerns elsewhere in the world for them to devote precious resources to so tiny a town as Pine Brook Hill, Colorado. Determined to protect his home from the swelling demonic threats, the Institute's leader, Maven Ironflame, decided to take matters into his own hands. True to the Ironflame legacy, he committed himself to solving his Institute's problems by any means necessary... a path which quickly led to an irrevocable darkness. Wholly dismissed by The Clave, Maven was able to pursue experiments of an increasingly questionable nature. They began with injections of simple concoctions, aimed at increasing the speed, reflexes, senses, and strength of his Institute's Shadow Hunters. When those failed to be enough, blood folded into the mix, the tests shifting disturbingly close in nature to Valentine's. However, these proved inefficient and best, and outright lethal at worst. The Institute by now had resorted to capturing and enslaving the demon invaders, intent on researching them in the desperate hope they'd find some weakness they could exploit... or use they could wield. It was then that Maven found himself struck with inspiration, and began to meddle with the very bodies of his loyal Shadow Hunters. Though these new trials boasted a drop in mortality rate, none of the subjects retained their demonic modifications. Even things so simple as a skin graft refused to take, delivering an immeasurable pain to its host and deteriorating into little more than ash within the hour. Eventually, Maven and his team discovered the cause: the Angelic blood of the Shadow Hunters was actively fighting the demon tissue, "protecting" them from the demonic influence. The weight of failure crushed most of the Institute, wholly believing this to have been their last hope of salvation. Maven, however, refused to give up, insisting this was the right lock, but that they merely needed to find the correct key. It would be a long time before that key at last revealed itself. Through the years, Maven had come to involve himself with a Warlock by the name of Annai Vren. Though their relationship had begun with an innocent search for information, it had twisted into a dark romance provided Maven with his next great breakthrough in the form of a son. The pregnancy brought the couple to ponder: what kind of blood would their child claim? In full support of her lover's motives, Annai encouraged Maven to try his transplants once more with their child - perhaps the presence of demonic blood would be enough to anchor the foreign flesh? Though the Angelic blood of the Shadow Hunters took full control at their son's birth, the memory alone of demonic blood confirmed Annai's theory, allowing the child's body to successfully take on a spaded tail and leathery wings. Enthralled by their success, they named him Caine, the first of a new generation of Shadow Hunters who would save their struggling Institute. Reignited by this success, Maven and Annai gathered as many Downworlder women as they could find, and captured every female demon who dared wander their way. By now, Maven was Pine Brook Hill's last Shadow Hunter, the others having fallen in battle, succumbed to failed experiments, or stolen away by The Clave to aid other, "more vital" towns. Consumed by the idea that he might at last defeat The Clave's apparent intent to finish off his Institute, Maven fathered as many part-demon, part-Shadow Hunter children as he could, subjecting each and every one of them to every kind of transplant imaginable. As with previous experiments, he was met with countless failures, but for every five deaths he claimed one more warrior for his corrupted ranks. By the time Caine and the second-year children were old enough, they began all the usual training their Shadow Hunter predecessors had endured. Soon, they were adept enough to become fully-fledged Shadow Hunters themselves, at last venturing out into the world to fulfill their purpose. It drew the long-desired attentions of The Clave... but not the attentions Maven had hoped for. The first to live became the first to die, hunted down by one of The Clave's finest elites. When word returned that Caine had been only one of fifty such creatures, The Clave acted swiftly, launching a slim and efficient team to shut down the Pine Brook Hill Institute and Maven Ironflame's horrific experiments once and for all. Maven's modified Shadow Hunters fought with all their might to drive off The Clave's assault, but though their demonic grafts imparted unique gifts so too did they render them susceptible to the Shadow Hunters' Seraph blades. By the time the sun rose the next morning, barely twenty children remained, all of whom were captured and taken to The Clave. Those who remained loyal to their father or were unable to control their demonic components were executed. The others were given a unique opportunity: as soon as it was developed, they could take medication to suppress or even erase their corruptions, then recommit themselves to The Clave, keeping the existence of their kind in secret from the rest of the Shadow Hunters. Any who refused were likewise executed. Many tried to escape, and though some succeeded most of them were hunted down with brutal efficiency. The Clave denounced them as traitorous Downworlders who had tried to overthrow The Clave, dangerous and manipulative agents to be killed on sight without hesitation. But among themselves, The Clave had given them all a wholly new designation: Blights, the Children of Flames. Key Notes This is an Alternative Universe of the Shadow Hunters world. You can read more about Shadow Hunters at this Wikia, and/or watch the show on Freeform. Both cannon characters AND original characters are welcome! No particular level of literacy or degree of post length is required. However, it is expected that participants put thought and care into their posts, so as to provide your fellow RPers with as enjoyable an experience as possible :) This should be taken as a more free-format RP, with no designated post order. Rotate as is appropriate with whichever other RPers you're interacting with - just make sure you allow whoever you're interacting with to respond before you respond again. Information about Blights and their history is kept highly under-wraps. Officially, Maven Ironflame's experiments and all resulting Blights were eliminated in the Pine Brook Hill strike. Only The Clave and the select few elites who were sent know the truth of the situation. However, loyalties wane, secrets have a tendency to slip, and rumors can start to grow from the most innocent of observations... Have any questions about the upbringing of the Blights? Hit me up! I'm happy to answer any and all questions about it <3 Be kind and courteous to your fellow RPers! We're all here to have fun and write a good story :)
  7. For anyone interested in what Shadow Hunters is/which specific permutation of Shadow Hunters I'm referring to, you can watch it here: http://freeform.go.com/shows/shadowhunters/episodes
  8. @Kio made me start watching Shadow Hunters and now I have an insatiable itch 8I (Which... usually means a character has entered my crosshairs... <v<;;; ) I've got a few ideas bouncing around, but wanted to see what folks think? I tend to not RP with much of a pre-ordained plot, more just "eh here's a premise let's throw them in the sandbox and see who dieswhat happens! 8D" could be large group, small group, 1-on-1, whatever :P I tend to have a fairly slow pace - depending on how many folks are involved, could be anywhere from each of us posting 1x/week to 2-3x/month I don't super duper care about post lengths, but be aware that I tend to write long posts (as do @Kio and @Dragonslover, if they join~) would be rad to have a mix of canons and OCs~ to accommodate the characters I have in mind (depending on what scenario we run with, and whether or not @Kio and @Dragonslover join in and with which characters), side-note that while it's primarily in the Shadow Hunters' world, there may need to be some... ah... flexibility... with the world premise. clarified and agreed-upon upfront, of course! EDIT: forgot to add - I don't really envision this being something where a group starts and that's it, I'd be down for folks/charas to drop in/out as they please. super free-form :) Anyone down for something along those lines?
  9. +Minnow+ Minnow didn't really mind much whether or not Grani was overstating things - she was just happy he seemed to be more comfortable with the conversation now! It seemed like it had been forever since she last conversed with someone-- ...but, wait, she never had, right? A slightly larger, stray spark made her wince, betraying the answer to Grani's question. With a meek, embarrassed smile, she replied, "Ah... I-It's alright... I'm sure Bingo doesn't mean to! He's just malfunctioning, is all." Yet, even as she said that, her confidence in her words already began to fade. Her brow furrowed, and she lowered her head to examine Bingo's innards more acutely. "...Everything... looks fine, though..." Her eyes flickered across her little friend, then she sat up again, another smile precariously drawn across her lips. "He's quite dirty - it's been a while since I last cleaned him up." Another small spark, accompanied by another wince. "Maybe it's just a bit of build-up that's disrupting his circuits?" Placing down her tools to look up at Grani, she continued, "His power core needs to be recharged, but I don't think that'd make him spark like this. Let's try cleaning him up first! Do you have spare cloth anywhere I can use? That and a bit of oil should do the trick!" But, something deep down told her that wouldn't work. She felt like she knew the answer, but for some reason just couldn't grasp it, couldn't articulate it. As soon as she got close to pulling it out of the shadows, she'd be met with another spark, another flash across her mind, another pinch of pain. What's wrong, Bingo? Why are you doing this... ?
  10. +Minnow+ Although Grani seemed to get angrier at her words, he also seemed... less upset? He was a curious puzzle to her, fascination lighting her eyes as she tilted her head. "Yeah?" she asked, legitimately awed by his claims. "That's really cool! I bet its a real help around here, huh?" As the conversation appeared to be picking up again, Minnow reached down to retrieve her satchel and set it atop the table. Pulling out a few slim tools and tiny parts, she placed Bingo before her and set to work trying to repair her friend. "Brandon looks strong, but he doesn't look like he'd have been able to maintain this place on his own. Did you help him out with it?" At her fingertips, Bingo was gently sparking, giving her a dull but constant pain in her temples. She didn't appear to mind it as she worked and talked, but she couldn't shake an odd feeling needling at the back of her mind. Something about this felt incredibly familiar, though she couldn't quite pinpoint just what it was. After all, she'd been alone all her life, right? She'd never had a friend before, aside from Bingo, right? She'd... never worked on an artifice... beside someone else... ...right... ?
  11. To say the very least, his sister's words made Brandon thoroughly embarrassed, both of his hands raising defensively in front of a panicking smile. "Crystal..." he groaned, nervously glancing towards the death-glare hidden behind a golden masque but that he knew to be bearing upon him and his sister. While he hadn't the slightest inkling of an idea what was going through the Death Queen's ancient mind, he'd gathered well enough that it wasn't anything good, and his sense of self-preservation remained considerably higher than his sister's. Though, Vali certainly didn't seem concerned about it, a point proven by the words to follow. In an instant, the suave turned his cheeks nearly the same red as the wine. His head whipped around to regard his companion with pure horror, his voice cracking in his mortified cry. "V-Val--!!!" An invading tongue cut him short, and despite all that had just transpired the young cambion couldn't help but melt on the spot. A part of him hated how easy it was for Vali to make him buckle and bend, convinced it made him little more than a plaything in the demigod's eyes, a toy he could call upon when he pleased but would one day ultimately lose all interest in. The rest of him loved it - let him be leashed, let him be used, so long as Vali sated his undying hunger then what did he care the pretenses or methods? Even in front of their siblings, he couldn't help but lean in, his addicted tongue seeking more, more - it was all he could manage just to keep his hands upon Vali's shoulders rather than his waist, chest, neck, ears... When Vali pulled away, it was at once a great pain and relief, leaving him breathless while his mild haze subsided. Leaning back into Slejpner's embrace, Kryt watched the kiss, knowing all too well the darkness that corrupted the otherwise beautiful exchange. Her hands laid gently upon his arms, smiling and giving him an apologetic nod and pat, but her mind was elsewhere, drifting back five, ten, fifteen years. How many times had she fallen, despite her every effort not to? How quickly had Love and Lust grown so intertwined, she couldn't separate them, and ultimately rejected all notion of one for the simplicity of presuming it was all the other? Brandon, at least, still didn't fully grasp "love," and so his "transition" had been comparatively smooth, but even still she could see the guilt in his happiness, the pain in his pleasure. In the end, Slejpner had saved her from such turmoil, despite the many, many... many trials she'd put him through, and despite it all she found she couldn't honestly wish for any of it undone. She didn't know if Vali would be the one to likewise save Brandon. She rather doubted her brother even could be saved, a point that wrought her with guilt over her role in it. But, at the very least, Vali kept him far from hunger, from danger, from the emotional turmoil she'd known for all those years. When they released and she caught Vali's eye, she threw him a crass smirk... but at the last moment it softened into a teary smile. Thank you. Twisting in her lover's arms, she found Slejpner's worried eyes and reassured him with a grin. "Yeah, yeah," she chuckled, fingertips sneaking up between them to coil strands of messy hair. "Hey, at least I'm still dressed, right?" The evening's request for restraint went slightly sidelined, just long enough for her to seize his lips in a kiss of her own - plenty of others were doing it, so why the hell not? She kept it short, though, knowing she had to last at least another goddamn hour before tearing through his suit and armor like giftwrap. Lady Eir was watching the kids overnight, right? Oh, how the Asgardian air would sing tonight!!! Presuming Hel's mood didn't kill everyone's spirits, anyway. Though her gaze was hidden, Slejpner could likely tell all he needed about her mindset from temperature and manner alone - after all, Slejpner was one of two people who had spent any meaningful length of time in her life, and was arguably more privy to the Death Pantheon's innerworkings than the other. Watching the quivering thing on Vali's arm confirmed the source of the demonic scent in the air, the bony points of one hand threatening to pierce clear through her glass. Eventually, she regarded Narfi with a thin, pursed smile, having had her fill of watching the cambions sinking their claws into otherwise perfectly capable warriors of Asgard. "Well," she replied, voice full of blatantly faux cheer, "at least you and Fenrir's lovers won't betray us." That was as much blessing as anyone was going to get out of her. Hardly interested in suffering any of it any longer, she turned to extend her fleshed hand towards the blind mouse, caring little for whether the others took issue with her abrupt manner. "Come. You miss my brother. I will take you to him." Although the woman seemed feeble and meek, she was still Aesir, which put her miles ahead of the others in Hel's book. So long as she never stepped foot on the battlefield, she wouldn't find herself on the receiving end of Hel's concern. Meanwhile, Jormungandr remained sat upon the floor, awkwardly slapping at Fenrir's hand as the damn wolf teased his hair. As his brother described the group, he frowned, having a bit of difficulty following along. "...I think it'ss inane," he muttered, still finding the words he had an easier time pronouncing. "What are they?" he asked with a snicker, inclining his head towards the twins. "Lionsss? Ratsss? They look ssmall..." His eyes continued to gleam in the hall's grandiose lighting, finding the topic amusing. Honestly, he found all of it amusing, on some level... Though he wasn't quite so well versed on the Ragnarok prophecies, the fact he and Fenrir had been imprisoned for all these centuries was testament enough to their might. That told Jormungandr all he really wanted to know about the upcoming war - that it would surely be very, very fun for him and his brother. "Bet ol' Odin'sss real fond of 'em, mm?"
  12. ǂBrandon Armickǂ Alarm gripped him when he realized what they were talking about. The... Th-The Bifrost?! Dropping his knife, he turned to start running towards them, anxious to put a stop to whatever they were discussing. But soon, Grani's words reached his ears, and his heart sank. Hiding just around the corner, he listened to his nephew's pained exclamations, every word pushing the invisible knife deeper and deeper. Not... intelligent... ? Quietly, he considered everything Grani said, unable to outright deny any of it. How could he? It was all true... Though Brandon tried his best to provide Grani with as safe and healthy an environment as possible, it hardly compared to the grandiose luxuries and expansive resources he would have known back on Asgard. His one advantage in life had always been his mind, but lot of good that did when you lived out in the middle of no where. Face furrowed, he wrestled with his thoughts, suddenly doubting every single decision he'd made since they first arrived here seven years ago. He'd been trying to protect Grani, to shield him from the cruelty he knew humans to show towards "others." But in doing that, had he done the boy more harm than good? Should he have brought him up in the city, or a nearby village, despite the discrimination he'd have inevitably faced? I can't... I can't even raise my own nephew... Vali was so good with Liranya. I bet he would have made the right decision... He would have known what to do. A sigh escaped him as he turned and silently walked back towards where he'd been prepping their dinner. Grani was right to want to go back to Asgard - he'd be way better off there, especially with Sigyn looking after him. Sigyn, he knew, was the best when it came to raising kids! After all, in his personal opinion, she'd raised the most perfect person he'd ever known! Objectively speaking, of course. But, if he goes back, what will I do? I wouldn't get along very well back on Asgard, not with Vali gone. I suppose I'd manage well enough here. It'd be lonely, but... ...I'd manage... ══════════════════════════════════════════════════ +Minnow+ Grani's sudden show of such emotion caught her completely off guard, her eyes blinking in confusion. He was... upset... ? Guilt began to settle in, curling her brow with sympathy. What had she said to upset him? It sounded like... he was upset that he didn't know much? For a moment, Minnow remained silent, not quite sure what to do or say, or how to react. She wanted to make him feel better, but how was she going to do that? ...Well, laughter always cheered people up, right? And though she didn't really know much about her past, she knew one thing for certain: she was great at laughter! And so, she threw on a big, bright smile, then slapped her hand upon his shoulder. (She was careful to use her fleshy hand - didn't want to hurt him, after all!) "Don't be silly!" she chirped with glee. "We're having conversation right now, aren't we? You're doing just fine!" Convinced he'd need a bit more encouragement on the matter, she reached out with her metal hand to spin a chair around, then released his shoulder so she could plop down in it, arms folded atop its back. "I didn't always know stuff about cores, you know! And I still know nothing about glyphs, or..." She paused for a moment, surveying the room for ideas. The sounds of chopping vegetables tickled her ears - beaming again, she pointed towards the kitchen. "...or gardening! I know squat about that!" Folding her arm back with her other atop the chair, her demeanor drew back in, calming down towards something less overwhelming. "And you can run real fast... And I bet you know how use that axe good! And don't those ears come in handy for tracking animals? See, you've got plenty of stuff you're good at! It may not be the same stuff that I'm good at, and I'm sure neither of us are good at the same stuff Brandon's good at - but he's probably not good at our stuff, either! And that's okay... That's what makes the world varied and interesting, y'know?" She wasn't sure if any of this was helping, but she sure hoped it did - Grani was much cuter when he smiled!
  13. Jormungandr's eyes flickered anxiously between the Naddems, growing more irritated with every passing second of Gabriel's cool, detached stare. How dare that asshole remain so fucking bored?! Honestly, he didn't get either of them, but they apparently had certain connections relevant to his interests. It helped they were both easy on the eyes, and great for a quick fuck - especially since that seemed to be their sole form of exchange. Want someone to walk you home? Fuck. Want to go see that new movie, but don't want to go alone? Fuck. Maybe you're just interested in the latest gossip and rumors? Especially if you had a specific person in mind... fuck. Drugs? Alcohol? Money? Fuck. Jormungandr knew exactly what he was in for when he dealt with the pair, and it was always a price he found himself willing to pay - though he wouldn't be caught dead admitting to willingly letting Gabriel plow his ass. Maybe that's why he got along so well with them? They were consistent, predictable... If you could get past the nature of their focus, it got surprisingly simple to get anything you wanted out of them. Compared to the situation back home? He'd trade it all for the Naddems any day. Personal interests aside, their antics furthermore proved thoroughly entertaining, if not downright hilarious. The grin twisting his face swelled in anticipation as much for Lilith's incoming "gift" as for the prank he could practically smell on the horizon. Sure enough, barely a moment after Gabriel reached his seat, that stupid little girl he sat behind was outright shrieking, bringing Jormungandr to laugh right alongside the rest of the class. Hel, on the other hand, was hardly amused by it all. She cared little for the girl in question, but every commotion delayed class further and further, and she quickly grew impatient having to wait for everyone else to catch up with her. She'd even come to foster resentment towards their teacher over it all - Hurry up and put them in their place. Must things always get this out of hand? You should let that "other" guy handle things sooner. On a personal level, she didn't care one way or the other who Jormungandr spent his time with... But, if she were honest, she would have preferred if he remained mindful of himself. Of his siblings. Of their "home." Jormungandr knew damn near everything he did angered their father, bringing about loud and violent nights that put the house to bed with a breeding ground for fresh nightmares. Sure, it never really affected her much, but she was certain it one day would. As the youngest of the three, she remained painfully aware of the fast-approaching day both her older brothers would leave home, and she'd be left to deal with their father alone. When that day arrived, she feared no amount of good grades, exceptional behavior, and self-imposed growth stunting would keep him at bay. Bah. Yeh'll mature soon enough! Can't wait 'til yeh fin'ly have a nice, full rack an' wet cunt o' yer own. Then maybe I can save summo th' whore money and buy meself a proper house! Lips pursed, she looked back to the pages between her fingertips, shutting out the classroom, Mr. Slejpner, and her wandering thoughts. All she had to do was study. Get ahead. Graduate with her brothers - or, better yet, before them. The world isn't in the business of saving people. You have to save yourself. Jormungandr sure as Hell wouldn't. Glancing up at Lilith as she passed, he held out his hand to receive the pill, his tongue flicking across his lips amid his laughter. As their teacher hurried to assist Silfrin, he took the opportunity to pop the bag open and retrieve the tiny, white pill between two fingertips. Eyes trailing back towards Mr. Slejpner's frantic attempts to calm his student, he caught that pompous ass Narfi surveying the class, looking like he was gonna punch someone right then and there. He sneered, staring him down as he crumpled the plastic baggy in his hand and popped the little pill between his lips. What're you gonna do, asshole? Scoffing, he returned his glare to their teacher. By the time the prick was talking again, the pill was already slipping down his throat. Hell yeah I'm done with this shit. Fuckin' ass...
  14. Kryt's face broke into an all-out grin at Mr. Slejpner's mutter, grades be damned. She knew full well he intended on disciplining her... but also that he'd have a rough time remaining true to his principles. She signaled her agreement to his demand with a sly wink, then turned on her toe to slip back into her desk, her skirt lifting barely not enough with the motion. Settling back into her desk, she tossed her paper negligently into her backpack, then folded one leg neatly over the other - his "reward" for "inviting" her to a bit of "alone time." The rest of attendance carried on more or less the way it usually did, with the usual results and antics across the class's wide range of personalities. Head propped up in the palm of her hand, she watched them pass by one-by-one, her bored stare broken only by her drummer's greeting. She considered his kid sister weird as fuck, but he and his brother were quite easy on the eyes, and pleasant enough company to hang around... especially when it came to his brother's not-so-subtle pining. She'd off-handedly suggested they write a song about it, and honestly she was only half joking about it - the band did need a few more songs in their repertoire, and what better than a one-sided rock ballad about a secret crush? Speaking of which... Idly, Kryt glanced towards the classroom's door. She'd caught on that it wasn't something, but rather someone that had gotten her brother thoroughly flustered. As much as she wanted to help him, though, she wasn't exactly the best source of love advice, having never gotten emotionally involved with anyone and fully intending on keeping it that way. With a resigned sigh, she glanced down to her textbook, prodding through its pages in a half-assed attempt to figure out what they were supposed to be covering today. He'll just have to figure out the hard way what a waste of time love is. She needed only glance over her shoulder to find her proof of its trials and tribulations, though she didn't recognize the feelings for what they were. Once again, the class had erupted into laughter, though this time it was around particularly irritating shrieking. Even before she looked, she knew exactly who was making the commotion, though she'd completely missed it was her own guitarist who'd caused it in the first place. She eyed the perfect, pretty little nobody with a snarl. Who the hell does she think she is, makin' that kind of racket? Sure, Kryt was a bit of a troublemaker, and her bandmates were even worse than her, but at least they kept their antics more or less to themselves! She rolled her eyes and turned back around with a huff. She's such a God damn attention whore. What a baby... Grow up. Life ain't gonna give you a free pass just cuz you cry a lot! Meanwhile, and unbeknownst to her, her brother was already beginning to feel the pain of loving someone. Literally. Brandon's only relief was the total vacancy of the bathroom when he burst through the door. What began as a sigh turned into a groan as he trudged over to the sinks, reluctantly surveying the bloody mess he'd made of his face. Carefully removing his hand, he soon discovered the cover had done more harm than good, the smear of his blood making his injury look far worse than it actually was. I'm such a screw-up... Abandoning his assignment upon a neighboring sink, he reached over to claim a paper towel. He wiped off most of his crimson accumulation before carefully twisting the faucet to start a low, steady stream of cold water. "Cold water helps it clot," he murmured lowly, repeating his mother's advice. He wet a fresh towel so he could clean his face, then held it against his nose for a moment while he checked the damage he'd done to his shirt. "Warm water will make it set." Keeping one hand holding the towel to his nose, he reached out with his free hand to grab and wet a second, that he might begin the awkward contortionist act of trying to dab the blood off his shirt when his other hand and arm were in the way of his view. "You won't impress anyone like this," he coached himself out of frustration. He'd hoped it might help him feel better, might encourage him to do better... It only partly worked. How am I supposed to impress someone that perfect? He grew quiet, a wary thought creeping into his brain. "Maybe... Gabriel... ?" Everyone likes Gabriel, right? He's bound to have good advice! But, he's friends with Sis... He'll probably tell, unless I... "pay" him...