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

[pragnanz]

My answer to that question relies heavily on whether or not I'll get punished for it.

[ Yes, the answer is yes. Not for malicious intent— there's no reason to have one— but for the sole purpose of continuing to be completely unapproachable and finding that teasing is one way to keep a conversation going without having to say much about himself. Claude is a moron. ]

[oren]

"Twisted."

[He repeats the word that his young mistress used to describe Claude and there's something bordering on bemusement that barely cracks through the stony faced Oren.]

Her words. Sharp observation coming from her.

[pragnanz]

Come, come. You don't mean to tell me that you don't find her capable of making sharp judgments?

[ Again, he sidesteps the issue of saying 'yes' or 'no', garnishes his deflections with a little shrug. ]

It won't do, to discredit her like that.

[oren]

Young. Still a long way to go. Magic, not an easy path. That's why I guide.

[He notices that Iona left her cup on the table and stands up to go and retrieve it. There's a heaviness to his movement as if he's dragging his feet although it's not on purpose.]

As for you. [See, can't throw him off]

Can't be touched. Can't be hurt. Is that your logic?

[pragnanz]

[ The heaviness is noted, which Claude finds odd for such a poised person; but then again, Iona did say that he's a little out of the ordinary.

That question, though. He raises a brow, leans back in his chair. ]

'Out of sight, out of mind'. [ is his correction. ] But to go back to 'twisted', I like to think that it keeps things interesting.

[oren]

[Both cups are gathered and are balanced gracefully in one hand.]

Twisted, but not damaged. Or I assume too much. It can happen.

[But he's observed so many people over the many centuries that there's bound to be at least an example or two of similar temperaments that have cropped up during his travels with Berna.]

Your thoughts are your own. Jackie- Iona is the one who's determined. Aims for the heart.

[pragnanz]

Let's hope she doesn't aim for mine.

[ His nonexistent one, that is. He doesn't subscribe to the idea, aside from a very vague outline of something resembling it when it has to do with his brother: Gus is the one that was born with his bowl overflowing, Claude is the empty one that retains what little it needs. If Claude ever had a heart, his brother is the one keeping it for him, he fancies.

He closes his eyes for just a moment, breathes in the sweet smell of the cafe interior. ]

You should keep an eye on her, watch that she doesn't spread herself too thin.

[oren]

Can't stop. Won't stop. Too late.

[Oren would have sounded less ominous if his speech wasn't so choppy. At his remark he makes a sound that could be called a chuckle. Maybe??? He doesn't laugh okay.]

My role in a nutshell.

[pragnanz]

[ How dare you quote Miley Cyrus at him, Oren... Claude looks mildly sour for a split second, and then chases that expression away. ]

Get to it, then. Make sure she forgets about this whole encounter after I leave, she'll be better off for it. Possibly.

[ He doesn't count on it, because he doesn't count on much. ]

[oren]

[Oren silently regards Claude for a moment with those eerie crystalline eyes that would make one feel as if they saw right through you.]

She would be. Better off. I've told her before.

[He turns the sink on and the sound of running water fills the cafe as he gently cleans the cups.]

But if she listened this place would not exist. And you both would not have met.

That's why it's too late.

[Life was precious to his young mistress and it was his fault really; he had given her that resolve after he saved her from the brink of death. She hated her own life before that, but because of what he did... Well, here they are now.]

This place is her heart.

[pragnanz]

[ Alright, this is distinctly Not Good. What den of emotion has he stumbled into? No one is supposed to actually take anything away from his conversations aside from mild annoyance and maybe a willingness to subject themselves to it again, none of this heart nonsense.

(please don't validate him on any level, he hates having to be human.)

His chair scrapes backwards, as if he's going to get up now because fuck, this is dangerous territory. ]

If I was out of my depth before, I'm swallowing water now.

[ A short sigh. ]

I'm starting to think that the rain may be friendlier than the ocean of her heart.

[oren]

[Is that... A smirk... Oren?? A GHOST OF ONE PERHAPS, but either way he is very amused.]

Humans. Always out of their depth. Wouldn't be too troubled about it if I were you.

[pragnanz]

[ WTF MAN...WHY CAN'T WE JUST BE BROS

He actually does get up now, like the big baby he is, and reaches inside his pocket for...

...an old-fashioned gold Franc coin, if there were any doubts as to where and what time period he comes from (except his time period is weird as fuck, anyway). He deposits it on the counter. ]

Compliments to Miss Oakes, then. I'll be tasting saltwater for the rest of the week.

1/2

[oren]

[because sir, oren is king babby of babby mountain

Oren accepts the coin without much comment, sweeping it off the counter into his other free hand]

Our thanks.

[He decides it's a good a time as any to return to the kitchen. That conversation wasn't as bad as he thought.]

[infusion]

Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth?
Ooh heaven is a place on earth!

[But look who's here to musically trap see Claude off! Oren communicates to Iona about Claude's inevitable exit and so she rushes out, swinging her legs over the counter and sticking the landing like a boss.]

Compliment taken and appreciated, Claude! [She waves him off merrily, with a smile that wouldn't be beaten by him, or the rain, or any imminent storm.]

Let's see, how do they say it?? Au revoir?

[pragnanz]

[ God, she's so...chipper. He blinks, watches Iona fly over the counter in a flurry of fabric, and...

...well, he laughs, because what else is there to do? He also incidentally moves forward and takes her hand, pressing the back of it to cold lips in a practiced, almost exasperated fashion. ]

À bientôt, j'espère.

[ What he wants is the opposite of what he just said: "later, I hope", because God knows she could do without his brand of specialness and he could do without being subjected to emotions, but, well.

He's good at saying one thing and meaning another. ]

If you find yourself in 1879 again, do visit.

[infusion]

... Geez!

[The flush is visible on her cheeks and she shakes her head at him as if wanting to make a remark about the hand kissing, but can't]

We'll see, we'll see. I need to ask Oren if it's safe. And well. Me in 1879 Paris?? [She sweeps a hand up and down at herself because, yeah, African American woman probably wouldn't be that outlandish, but she's assuming she'd still stick out.]

That aside, I think I figured out your age!

[pragnanz]

You'll have to get a new dress.

[ Is all he says about the matter, more pleased about her reaction and the subsequent call to guess his age. Let's see how she's done. ]

And of course, I'll hear your guess.

[infusion]

30.

[Her curly hair bounces as she tilts her head at him.]

I was talking to my brother and we were talking about his upcoming birthday among other things. He's almost hitting that age and I just thought...

[She trails off, waiting for him to confirm.]

[pragnanz]

[ What the fresh hell is this, people usually shoot for 21 to 23?! Is this also a magic thing... he doesn't understand.

He literally just stares, pokerfaced, until the expression breaks. ]

...Correct. I think that's my cue.

[ To leave before she starts reading his goddamn mind?! THIS IS SCARY. ]

[infusion]

[The weird thing is? Iona's none the wiser about how she's actually getting under his skin with this sort of thing. She waves him off happily as ever, with a one final goodbye.]

Thanks for visiting the Midnight Grind! We'll be expecting you next time!

[An uncertain promise of things to come, but Iona's learned to look forward to the uncertainties of tomorrow. It's what gives her interesting days like this one.

The door behind Claude remains. It's easier to see now that it's been passed through once. But it will gradually disappear the further away one gets from it until it's gone as if it was never there to begin with.]