OPEN RP POST DEUX

[formidable]

This a post where I'll RP anything with you and that means ANYTHING. Except smut because I suck at that Got a scenario in mind? I'LL DO IT. Here's some prompts below to help get things moving along if you don't have an idea to play out. The prompts are just prompts, if you have something specific, just let me know either at sweethymns or my AIM (rainsweets). Have at it! ➢ 01. AMUSEMENT PARK: Disneyland? Knotts Berry Farm? Six Flags? A made up amusement park with knockoff characters? Who cares, let's just ride that roller coaster or that giant swing ride! ➤ 02. PARK: Benches, trees, grass, maybe a lake and a basketball or volleyball court. ➢ 03. SNOWY DAY: Oh the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful... or the level of snowfall can be any you wish! Light or heavy, there's going to be some winter related activities somewhere. ➤ 04. DINER: I love food, I really, really, really love food. And so do muses if they like to eat too! This diner seems to have a very HUGE menu with a large variety of dishes! Let's bond over food stuffs! ➢ 05. SICK DAY: Either your muse or my muse is sick. Who's taking care of who? ➤ 06. SEVEN MINUTES IN HEAVEN: Our characters are stuck in a closet and can't get out until there is some kissing, so they better make good use of those seven minutes... DON'T YOU DARE JUDGE ME. ➢ 07. SCHOOL: High school never ends! Or any type of schooling really. So whether it's in class or in the gym, let's try to endure mandatory education! ➤ 08. SURVIVAL HORROR: That old mansion/creepy town/underground science lab/zombie infested city ain't going to be survived by itself. Grab your medicinal herbs and shotguns, let's survive the horror. ➢ 09. WILDCARD: Let's make up shit.

Comments

[onoir]

[ 'Found'...? That's an odd way of putting it, as if most people wouldn't pass whatever criteria there is to set foot in this nice, cozy cafe. It's a distinction that'd put him on edge, followed by the assertion that she notices that he's not strictly human.

Or maybe he's overthinking it; what is it that Lien said about him? That he overthinks things too much, like his Master? Or maybe that was Cu Chulainn.

He closes his eyes for a second or two in evaluation, as if to decide upon an appropriate course of action, before he folds and settles down in front of the steaming cup of coffee. ]

I appreciate your hospitality.

[ In response to her insistence that he drink a cup, which is appended with a question: ]

And by 'unlike', you mean...?

[infusion]

[Wow, he was really out of the loop. Though, Oren had said that the door to the Midnight Grind was a hard find and if Iona hadn't put an effort out to network the method to find it in the first place, it would have been impossible for even magickind and espers to find it. It was, in her words, kind of stupid that way.]

Well, we get all types here! Magic, psychics, big, and small...

You're definitely magic. 100% positive.

[She makes the assumption like it's the most mundane thing in the world although there's some triumph in making that observation.]

[onoir]

[ Ah, well. So much for discretion.

He isn't above being taken aback, though, and amber eyes flit towards the door he came through in as if that's enough to make sure that it isn't locked, or that this isn't some sort of foul play. How would he ever explain to Ai if he got offed because of a stupid mistake... Rank E luck strikes again. ]

...I'm compelled to ask, then. Is this some sort of trick?

[infusion]

Hm? Trick?

[Her drawing of waffles on the chalkboard is coming along swimmingly and she pauses to tap her cheek with the chalk she was drawing with, leaving a light coating of dust that contrasts against her skin tone.]

Kind of? I honestly don't get how that dumb door works. "Everywhere, but nowhere at once?" Give me a break. But there's enough people who find it and go through here eventually.

[Iona rolls her eyes and finishes off the drawing.]

Unless you mean, "is this place a trap," then, nah, nothing sinister like that. It's just me and the big guy in the back. Right, Oren?

[She calls to the man in the back and there's a gruff reply, something along the lines of, "Leave me out of this."]

But yeah, it's a normal cafe that's for the supernatural slash supernaturally inclined in a nutshell.

[onoir]

[ There's a semi-long pause that follows her statement, a pause that Diarmuid takes to digest this very fantastical explanation for his unexpected visit here. In the grand scheme of things— even if this is a type of magic he's never really heard of before— he can't say that it's anything stranger than his own presence or the many, many myths that he's been made aware of over his many, many years.

So. He relaxes, relents, even. His shoulders drop, resignation knit in his brows. ]

I see. Then I won't trouble you about details— I have your word, and you mine.

[ Meaning he won't do anything untoward as long as he isn't provoked. ]

It's been some time since I've been in a place like this.

[infusion]

That suits me just fine! [Man, what a formal guy.]

[Iona beams at him, happy at his remark about this place- hers and Oren's- as she steps down from the ladder after finishing her drawing.]

Is that so? I loved this place to bits ever since Oren- the guy working in the back, showed it to me. The cafe was my idea!

[And she's clearly proud of the fact.]

Being part of the normal world is hard for most people with magic as you can imagine and everyone's such a stiff. [Her hair bounces as she makes her assertion.] No one made a happy place, so I made it!

[onoir]

[ Well. It's hard to be too suspicious or wary of anyone who says things like that, talks about making a safe spot for people with such beaming pride. He wonders if it's this town, or a series of coincidences that he's meeting such vibrant people recently: sincerity is a virtue, he's glad it's persisted.

Sorry if he smiles, watch that you don't get blinded. ]

Well. They say that the spirit of the owner inhabits anything they own, be it a weapon, object, or place.

[ A tilt of the head, a quick look around the room. ]

If your wish is for this place to be happy, then it'll be so.

[infusion]

[Iona's honesty is the kind that veered towards looking on the bright side of life. She hasn't always been like that, but a lot of things have happened since then.

Goddamn, was this man sweet though. Oren would usually react with either indifference or a raised brow at words like hers, but she had a feeling that this guy was supremely sincere. To be quite frank, it was unreal.]

To be quite frank, you sir, are unreal.

[See, she even says it herself! HONEST!!]

That's not a bad thing, that's a compliment.

[remind you of anyone]

[onoir]

[ Thank god the past few weeks have given him a tolerance to blunt comments from pretty girls. Actually, thank god his whole life's prepared him for these moments, otherwise he'd find it a lot harder to deflect.

A light laugh, and he shakes his head. ]

Sorry to disappoint— I'm very real.

[ He knows what she means, but it's still hard to say 'thank you' about it!!! ]

Should I withhold my opinions from now on?

[infusion]

Nah, keep it coming. I'm used to opinionated men. [She shoots a dirty glance at the kitchen in the back.]

Just not the nice ones. You. You're very nice. Which is why it's unreal because hon, they do not make your type anymore these days and it's a damn shame.

[She lets out a laugh. A very cheerful and happy person indeed and she doesn't seem to use it as a way to hide some hidden dark part of herself if it even exists at all (it kind of does, but it's not for the present moment). For now, Iona's someone who relishes ever second of the "now" before her.]

[onoir]

Some would say I'm a relic, so you wouldn't be incorrect.

[ Not that he isn't a vibrant person when he wants to be, but duty trumps that when it has to. Right now, though—

— he can let his hair down a little, so to speak. His posture slacks, and he even slings one leg over the other, breaking his military straight-backedness. ]

Are any of your customers ever difficult?

[infusion]

[Aha, so he does have more than a few years on him. She's been trying to guess what this guy is this whole time, but hasn't settled for being blunt yet.]

If you're a relic, I wonder what that makes my grandmother.

[It feels weird to be face to face with Berna these days since she hasn't aged past her 30s in decades.

Now as for his question, she snorts.]

Totally. This is supposed to be a happy place, but some people don't know how to handle the baggage they bring in and that means drama bombs. But if they're gonna bring it, they're gonna have to bring it to me.

[onoir]

[ Okay, he has to laugh— this is familiar territory for him, 2nd century Irishman that he is. ]

The woes of being a barkeep. You were wise to choose not to serve alcohol here.

[ Because seriously, imagine what kind of fun that be end up being. ]

[infusion]

We've been thinking about it. Like, this doesn't have to strictly be a cafe and there's a lot of nice cocktails I'd love to make.

[do they even have a permit for booze, probably not]

But you're right. A cafe's just fine for handling misery, not to cause and enable more.

[onoir]

You would need more staffing. One woman alone couldn't possibly face off against the drunks I've acquainted myself with in the past.

[ Is that sexist?? He's sincerely concerned, though, and he's also old-fashioned as hell. ]

[infusion]

[That's a little...?? Iona does chalk it up to it being the lack of manpower since it's usually just her and Oren though, so he'd be right to wonder how they manage.]

Well, there's my co-worker in the back. He's immovable, but I usually take the floor when it comes to "issues."

I throw one hell of a punch and it usually gets people to step down.

[onoir]

[ Ah, right. She must have powers, if she's dealing with supernatural entities on a day to day basis. ]

That would do it.

[ He doesn't doubt that it does, if she's spent enough time here with enough belligerent people... ]

—But forgive me my lack of manners, Miss. I've neglected to ask you your name.

[infusion]

Iona Jacqueline Oakes.

[Berna was the one who gave her the names, first and middle. "Iona" because it sounded beautiful (the meaning wasn't important) and "Jacqueline" because she saw a part of herself in her granddaughter.

Grandma was weird that way.]

Just call me Iona! And you?

[onoir]

Miss Iona. A pleasure.

[ And he bows his head, in true knightly fashion, even if it's not called for. Old habits die hard. ]

They call me 'Lancer'— not my name proper, but it'll have to do.

[ A slight browraise here, as if to gauge her reaction: would she know anything about the War? ]

[infusion]

[SAY MY NAME SAY MY NAAAAAAAAAAME Yup. Don't make them anymore. Not the same way at least.]

Lancer, huh? [She purses her lips and shrugs it off with a smile.]

That's a cool name! It's got a noble aura to it... Yeah. Noble!

[onoir]

[ Oh Iona... he laughs about her decision regarding his name, which doesn't come across patronizing as much as just. Genuinely a little surprised. ]

It's straightforward, at the very least. But I can't complain— a title is a title.

[infusion]

Ah, so it's more or less on the nose. Got it.

My grandmother has a title too. Apparently those aren't given out to just anyone nowadays.

[onoir]

[ He makes a mental note: Iona has nothing to do with the War. Good.

This begs the question of how much he should actually divulge about himself, so he's glad she seems to be more keen on talking about her grandmother. That's easier, so he changes the subject. ]

What title does she have?

[infusion]

It's a really shiny one.

"The Crystalline Witch." Some people have heard of her, some haven't, and if it's the latter, she'll leave you with one hell of an impression so you can't forget.

[onoir]

A 'witch'?

[ That word has slightly negative connotations for him, but he's not about to dampen the mood... ]

—I see. She must be powerful, if she's feared the way she seems to be.