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

[psychometer]

Shush.

[And with that, she proceeds to just sort of. Poke him on the forehead. She doesn't take her gloves off for this and there's only a faint whisper of her energy on her fingertip. And she quickly puts her hand down, giving a satisfactory nod.]

There. I'll get going now!

[Lien makes her way to the door with a bag slung over her shoulder. She stops before exiting and looks back at Lancer. There's a thoughtful look on her face because her current thought is how... She hasn't stayed with anyone in a while and how for once there's something to look forward to when coming home.

Lien gives her Servant a cheerful smile and waves before closing the door.]

[lansaigh]

[ He doesn't say anything as she leaves, freespirited Hero that he is: she's free to do as she pleases, as long as he gets to run around and fight as he pleases, too.

It's strange, having a young girl as his Master— one that gives him lip, no less— but it's not unpleasant, and he pulls himself up and off his perch to disappear and go somewhere with more greenery, more quiet.

Maybe he'll tell her his real name, when she comes back. ]

[psychometer]

[let me tell you about a lady named Caren

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She takes her time, choosing clothes for Lancer in various stores. By the time she gets back, it's a little past noon.]

... I'm home!!

[What a strange thing to say.]

You should try these on and see which ones you like!

[lansaigh]

[ As soon as she sets her bags of clothes down, Lancer materializes next to her to peek into them, rustling through fabric and packing paper. ]

Huh. These aren't half bad; clothes in this era are pretty practical.

[ and with that

he starts pulling his armor off. ]

[psychometer]

[HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO HER. She swivels around to hide her reaction, but there is an audible groan.]

NOT in the middle of the living room! SHEESH!! Fine, just tell me when you're done changing!

[What is with this guy, some Heroic Spirit he's turning out to be. While she stalks off to her bedroom so she can wait for him to change, if Lancer digs down into one of the bags...

It's the neon hell of a shirt she had turned her nose at the other day, neatly folded in clear plastic wrapping.]

[lansaigh]

[ what seems to be the officer, problem... he knows that this is probably Inappropriate for these times, but let's be real, he's not ashamed. ]

You know my measurements already, relax.

[ As if this is a sufficient excuse... ok, Cu. But he does, in fact, find that neon monstrosity nestled between the sensible sea of blues and greys, and privately laughs about it.

He spares her, for now, and chooses to wear an open v-necked shirt and a pair of jeans. ]

You can stop hiding now, kiddo.

[psychometer]

[Her door opens, but she only appears halfway, one hand on the wall and peeking out from behind. She's glaring at him as if expecting to pull a fast one on her.]

You're absolutely done? 100%??

[lansaigh]

I'm a Servant, not a Savage. Come on out.

[ He says, in his fully-clothed glory...! Cu Chulainn, ready for a night out in town. ]

[psychometer]

Huh.

[She steps out, giving him a once over, head to toe.]

Well. Yeah, almost normal.

[lansaigh]

Not much I can do about the hair and eyes, if that's what you're talking about.

[ Maybe people will just assume he's living the punk life... ]

[psychometer]

Were red eyes a thing back in the day, or something?

[lansaigh]

It's a me thing. Take it or leave it.

[psychometer]

I'm not asking as if it's a bad thing. They're nice!

[Putting her hands on her hips.]

Alright, what's it gonna be tonight? Yakiniku or just a plain ol' ikazaya?

[lansaigh]

I wouldn't know— what's good?

[ His experiences with Japanese food are... none... so this doesn't mean much to him aside from "stuff that sounds vaguely appetizing". ]

I don't need to eat, but if we're gonna do it, might as well pick something we'll enjoy.

[psychometer]

Yakiniku then! Meat, meat, meat!!

[Eyes are shining with anticipation!! When she isn't dragged down by her unknown troubles, this person was rather excitable.]

I think you'll enjoy it Lancer!

[lansaigh]

[ And, well. He considers his next words for a few seconds, before he decides that it's high time. ]

"Cu Chulainn."

[ A light grin, followed by a tilt of the head. ]

If you're treating me to food, I might as well tell you my name.

1/2

[psychometer]

[psychometer]

Oh... oh!

Um. [She bows her head to him politely. It's a reintroduction of sorts because she's happy that he's given her his name.]

Then it's nice to know your name, Cu.

[lansaigh]

That's it? Man, in Ireland, some people'd pitch a damn fit.

[ But he doesn't sound disappointed at all, and instead, starts maing his way towards the front door. ]

Lead the way, little Master. Tonight, we're carnivores.

[psychometer]

Unfortunately for you, I'm Vietnamese. Specifically, a Vietnamese person living in Japan and now I'm contracted with an Irish Heroic Spirit.

[A beat.]

Well, yeah, now it sounds weird when I say that aloud.

[Anyways, out she goes!]

[lansaigh]

I figured. I'm not getting any fame bonuses here, after all.

[ Again, no real complaints, and he sets off in pursuit of his Master.


☚☛


When the two of them reach the yakiniku establishment, it's mildly crowded— a few dubious looks are cast at the strange party of two, especially towards the very tall foreigner with the bright hair, but they're ushered towards a seat next to the ceiling television without much fuss otherwise.

Lancer has a ball breaking his chopsticks in two, and the table next to them stares as he picks up the container of yakiniku sauce and sniffs at it. ]

So, what, we grill our own meat and put this stuff on it? Sounds like my kind of meal.

[psychometer]

Mm hm! That way, it's nice and hot and cooked to our preference!

[Lien's ordered a special set for the both of them already and she hums, brimming with anticipation for the meal.]

I'm a fairly solitary person, so I don't go out much to eat. Man, if I don't crave grilled meat at times though!

[It's just no fun alone though.]

[lansaigh]

For a "solitary" person, you're pretty chatty.

[ Their meat comes, and Lancer sets to work on eating, using his chopsticks with alarming dexterity. Predictably, he keeps all his portions pretty rare. ]

[psychometer]

[Lien's between a medium rare to almost well done. She has to admit, she's amazed with how well Servants are able to take in knowledge about the current world around them. It almost puts her Eyes to shame. And in response to his remark:]

I'm selectively chatty.

[Om nom, meat.]

[lansaigh]

Guess I should be flattered that I made the cut.

[ His plate is being cleared with alarming rapidity, not that he really needs to eat. It's his policy to enjoy what's been given to him, though, so the technicalities are mostly ignored.

The ceiling television switches from baseball broadcasts to breaking news, but Lancer largely ignores it. ]