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[center [font "Times" A sort of a Beauty and the Beast idea mixed with some eldritch monstrocity curses.
This is set in a sort of a D&D world. High fantasy, elves, dwarves, fae, mages wandering around causing mess. All that.
[left [pic https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d7/96/52/d79652bf7d405fb924adb7b53cbda890.jpg]] In this world, a character will come across a being, a creature, a man? Either stumbling around in the wilderness and realizing that there's an old path, or an overgrown avenue, or just the whole sort of castle/home itself. Once inside, the wandering adventurer discovers that the place isn't abandoned. Something lives here. Something that reads, that thinks, and that speaks when they hear a voice from the shadows. There's a shape there. It's the thing.
The creature has lived here for years, either as a sort of a local spook, or as a squatter, left alone to haunt this place.
Or perhaps wandering adventurer wanders out of town tavern and sees the shape of a big, cloaked, monstrous looking creature. With intelligent eyes. Pursue? Attack? Run?
Character applicants can be male, female, neither, or something else. No race restrictions except for dragonborn, goblins, kenku and such monster races if you intend this to be romantic. This doesn't [i have] to be romantic, also; it could be if they decide to develop that way. Frankly, giving this poor thing a friend would be lovely. Getting him out of his isolation and into the world again.]]
[right [pic https://i.pinimg.com/564x/b9/5f/3b/b95f3bafe7031ac5b4fd93cc3c22942c.jpg]] [font "Times" [B General Expectations]
1. 800-1000+ characters preferred, but flexible.
2. Communicate with me, it makes it easier on the both of us. A roleplay in no way needs to to be 'surprise motherfucka' every time. It's a constant discussion about plot and characters and things, and if things don't work we can do things again or talk about it. I want that sort of clear to make this work out.
3. Ask questions. I know I will.
5. Cursing is allowed
6. Mature themes will be explored as in more than just the existence of smoking and drinking. There will be mention and interaction with mental illness and violence.
7. Romance is not a requirement
8. Do NOT OP
9. I will post inconsistently because I possess both a professional, emotional and a social life and its complications, but I will post when I can. I will post as fast as I can but I have multiple RPs I devote equal time and energy to on top of a busy schedule so I will do my best to be quick if I can, please understand. I extend the same to you, and you can take your sweet ass time too, just make sure I know you'll come back, as I will do as well.
[center Questions, comments? Send me your favorite dessert as a message title, and we can talk!
You don't have permission to post in this thread.
There as an immediate and adverse reaction to being grabbed. So he felt that he could do as he wished with her, but she was going too far if she did the same? It irritated her, even though she knew it was likely due to it being one of the extra appendages that seemed to manifest and disappear at random. Alenia had some words to say about that, but before they came out he wiggled free of her grip, pushing her arm away. The woman’s balance was already off from pulling on him to keep him in place, so that little extra force was enough to knock her off equilibrium and also off the small bench.
Toppling backward, she landed flat on her back, with the exception of her head that hit one of the exposed roots of the willow tree behind her. It was not a hard fall, not even enough to knock the wind from her chest, but she did suspect a bump might eventually form on her head. That bit smarted. Rubbing her head gingerly, she glared up at the almost impossibly tall man. [b “If you don’t want to be touched, then you should be more conscious of where you are grabbing yourself!”] A flush of embarrassment came to her face in hindsight. Perhaps it would have been better not to bring it up at all, but it was too late now, and she was not going to leave the thought half complete. So, as she picked herself up off the ground and dusted herself off, she continued. [b “I’m not sure if it really matters to you, but I [i am] a lady. And it usually kind of awkward for us when a man suddenly decides to touch our legs…”] And that didn’t even include the fact that he had been so close she could feel his breath on her neck. With that thought, she sort of lost track of where she was going with this out of embarrassment. It took an extra second to get there. [b “So yeah, maybe thing about that a little more.”] Now that she had basically mortified herself, face bright red, and a little regretful for bringing it up, she took another short break to try and calm herself down before she could move on.
“Who cares?” His question rang in her ears and she just about lost it. Taking a deep breath, she reigned herself in just a little bit, but there was still a touch of frustration in her voice. [b “Obviously [i I] do, or I wouldn’t have asked.”] It seemed simple enough to her, and she knew it was a way of avoiding giving her answers, but Alenia was not having that right this second. [b “I would not be hanging around here if I did not care what was happening, what is going on. For better or worse, I care about this weird place and I care about you, so I want to know!”] Whether or not she could see what this was, it was affecting him and his life, and that mattered to her.
Alvér tensed, eyes snapping back to her as she mentioned it had to be something that piqued her interest. So that meant...? He frowned, wondering if that was some last minute attempt at softening this for him, convincing him. Surely not. But her tone at the last confused him further.
“[B And that is supposedly that ‘thing’ you cannot define,]” he hissed, recalling her words at his bedside. “[B How very burdensome it must all be.]”
Alenia’s hand landed on the thin wrist of that extra arm- the one with fingers- and stopped him short with a hiss when she touched it. Her grasp pulled the limb from him, in pale, ashy skin like his. Horror flashed through his eyes as he realized what she had grabbed, the arm tensing and pulling.
His stomach dropped, and Alvér’s own hand grabbed her wrist and yanked it from her, “[B Don’t touch that!]” his voice was tight, sharp suddenly as it hid against him, his other, healthy hand pushing his cloaks closed over himself. Alvér bent as if to hide what she had just seen.
His breath came ragged, not looking at her as he shoved her away from him. Pressing both hands against himself and standing straighter, giving her a brittle glare.
“[B Who cares?]” he snapped, voice notably more subdued than before as he drew in on himself. “[B [i I] don’t even know what happened, and it’s never bothered me.]” He had only really made a big deal of it to scare her. Alvér knew something had happened, certainly, but hadn’t dug.
Alenia rolled her eyes. [b “I am not quite so saintly as all that. I don’t just run to the aid of any and everyone within my reach.”] It may have seemed that way to Alvér because that was all he had seen of her, so she could understand his comment, but she was here to tell him otherwise. [b “Just because I don’t want people hurting if they don’t have to does not mean I am willing to invest myself in the lives of everyone I come across. It would never end if I did that…”] Everyone had a problem when you looked close enough. And she did not want to be the one who took that all on herself to fix it, it was too much weight for her to bare, so it took more than a common plea to pull her in. [b “There has to be something about them, something interesting, to make me want to help them.”] It was a selfish admittance, one she might have done well to keep to herself, but it was the truth. She could go years without finding someone she found even remotely worth spending more than her worktime on, let alone actually taking enough of interest in their wellbeing to interfere with their life. She might have had a decent moral compass in her, but Alenia was by no means so holy as he seemed to think. [b “It’s not my job.”] Something about that final line was off, like she was trying to convince herself that it was true.
The man tried to back off after that, shying away from her question like he did not expect her to press it anymore. Like it was only natural that she would. Well, he was wrong about that. Small hand reaching out, Alenia grabbed hold of him. Was it his arm, his cloak, with him so malformed like this she couldn’t tell, but the elf held tight so he couldn’t slip away. [b “Yes, it does matter. I want to know what is going on.”] Who cared if it was just ambient, she was there and that ambiance was around her! There was a hard look of determination in her eyes as she gazed up at him, now standing closer to his true height that he wasn’t leaned into her.
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His face twisted, pulling back, his hands leaving her as if burned. "[B You're a bleeding heart,]" he hissed. "[B You'll save [i anything] so long as it fits with your moral standards.]" That meant her words were meaningless to his ears. There was no way he truly deserved any of what she said, it was simply morals. A blind judgment on a stranger that she had been taught to make. And it would soon change all the more harshly if she ever learned anything more about him.
And he had known that. He should have believed it when he initially started to come to that conclusion. With morals like that, once you crossed them, you were noxious and needed culling.
He stared at her for a few beats, blinking, as he had to sort of reorganize his assumptions about this bardic holy mage. She could heal, but she had very little sense for the supernatural that he could tell. Likely she had felt something when she was down in the cellar, but little else.
Alvér huffed out a sigh, rolling his eyes with a shake of his head. "[B You'll be fine,]" he said. "[B if you're not that sensitive, then it doesn't matter. It's ambient.]"
The creature kept his eyes from her after that, face tight, frustrated as disappointment cascaded down through him. That was what he got for thinking anything else, for having hope that something perhaps [i had] changed after all this time like this. It had only been, what, a few days since Alenia appeared? He [i should have known].
Alenia ignored any further questions dealing with ghosts and ghouls; he was just trying to get her goat anyway. If Alvér had some genuine curiosity perhaps she might have humored him with some semblance of an answer, but currently she could not see anything other than his desire to ruffle her. And it was obscenely strong, however despite all his efforts to do so she remained resilient. Back ramrod straight with perfect posture, the woman neither cowered nor flinched as he moved in closer. It was not until he drew his focus on her exposed skin and made some not so subtle comments of how she was basically a snack for him on a silver platter that she began to grow anxious.
The vibrant haired woman tried to use logic to remain calm. Reminding herself that if he was going to attack her and, for lack of a better term, eat her, then he would have done it by now. Alenia truly did not believe he was out to hurt her, even if he wanted her to think that, but his breath on her neck still made her nervous. However, the elfin woman was able to keep her own breathing even, hiding her unease. It was a feat that a great deal of effort. She was glad that she managed that much, but no amount of trying could control her heart that was starting to turn faster in her chest.
For the first time ever, Alenia was glad that the strange man before her became angry by something she said. His annoyance drew him back just enough for her to breath just a little bit easier and alleviate the inkling of nervousness she had felt at having him there. Right now she did not mind pushing him that little bit more, her moment of hesitation was over. [b “Because I don’t think anyone should have to take on anymore suffering than they have to. Because I care that people are happy. Because I think you are worth thinking about and caring about, even if you don’t… ”] Perhaps this would only irritate him more, but that was fine.
Then there was the matter of her, as Alvér called the seemingly ethereal entity. He looked surprised to hear that the bard didn’t know who he was speaking of. That she did not have the sensitivity. Her brow furrowed as he announced that she should keep it that way. [b “What? Alvér, what are you talking about. Why shouldn’t I try to see it? I want to understand.”] Was it that bad? Or was it just something that held too many secrets for him so he’d rather drop the topic?
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He sighed, not seeing her recoil at all, when Alvér realized he was still being gentle with her. There was a part of him that was hesitating from grabbing and shaking her, and that part was infuriating. Was it years of losing trust when he had done so with past friends? People he no longer saw. People he no longer knew if they still lived?
"[B You know what spirits are like,]" he returned, lip curling. "[B But how much do you know the dead, "bard"?]" The word was spit, heavy with sarcasm. She was something else and she was denying him the truth of it, and now in this moment it was glaringly irritating. She spoke of his beneficence and his goodness and she didn't know what he knew, what he was.
"[B Do you know they would rather kill and devour you than think twice about being laid to rest, songstress? Or 'helped'? Most are too far gone with the power that raised them anyways to [i have] a mind anymore.]"
With that Alvér pressed closer, face twisting, meaning to lean her back from him. His hands went to either side of her, flat on the bench. "[B Do you know how, even like this, I want to break that skin of yours? I can smell how you live before me.]" His voice went low, an edge of breath to it as his eyes skated down to her throat, he bowed toward it, before his eyes flickered back to her. He loomed over her, shoulders hunched behind him, feline, head low.
"[B It would be easy,]" Alvér purred, letting his voice go velvety. He called upon that unhallowed flame in him, fettered and covered over with this body, this condition, but still there if he fed it. If he disobeyed. "[B And it would taste-]" his voice cut off, eyes on her, on where her collar dipped beneath her collarbones. The breath he sighed out spoke where his words didn't at the prospect of eating her.
The word contempt put a cold chill through him. It wasn't a word he had expected out of her, somehow. His face hardened, the creature almost pulling back, his head coming up. Yet her issue, somehow, was again not lying with him. A part of him, something logical, something with tact remaining in it, reminded him that was a good thing. But for now, the only thing he wanted in the world was the safety that came with fear, for her to [i know].
Alvér's teeth bared, "[B Unnecessarily,]" he growled. "[B you don't think I deserve it. Why do [i you] think I don't deserve it?]" His voice gained an edge to it at the last; something almost brittle. He shook his head.
Alvér's eye widened a bit at her quizzical look. She shook her head at him as she asked [i who]. He sat back, glancing over her. "[B You're not sensitive enough to see it,]" he breathed, almost in wonder as the realization dawned on him finally.
"[B Keep it that way.]"
Her? So, the something was actually a someone, as suspected. Though that wasn’t a lot of information in and of itself. [b “I feel something,”] it was soft now, but lingering, sort of like his touch on her thigh, and not nearly as strong as it had been in that cellar. [b “But I haven’t been able to place it.”] Alenia admitted her own shortcomings easily. Without actively trying to seek answers through her own means and discarded abilities, she found only threads of the tapestry of what was going on here. It was frustrating, but that was how life was.
While thinking all this she also noticed the differences in him. The subtle, but welcoming, warmth, his gentleness, and a willingness to be near her in something other than necessity. She wondered what brought on the change. The running theory was that it shifted with everything else about him. If that were the case the wood elf though he determined it himself with his outlook and emotional state, but she was not certain. There was still the chance that Alvér simply shifted through forms like water molded to its container. Similarly to how his tone soon changed with her. He looked disappointed, but not surprised at her reaction, though Alenia felt he was misunderstanding her, but she let him finish before responding, eyes on his the entire time. [b “I know what spirits are like…”] She’d seen plenty of them and the likes, so she did not need him to tell her. But she would rather not go into that, so she moved right passed the topic. [b “You misunderstand… my disgust, or rather my contempt, is not for you specifically. I just hate to see others hurt themselves unnecessarily.”] It was difficult for her to stomach, especially at such close proximity. [b “You don’t deserve that, so why?”] Her question caught in her throat just the tiniest bit. From experience, she knew that it was often more complicated than that, but it was so difficult to wrap her head around that she could not help the enquiry from coming out.
That was not her only question though, there was one more in response to his. [b [I “Who?”]]
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Alvér's figure was still, next to her, as he turned the had that had crushed the eye up, glistening in the moonlight. He wrung it again to try and rid it of the material, humming low in his throat in thought.
“[B Strange,]” he murmured, turning toward her. “[B you cannot feel her spirit, yet you had endeavored to- was it- free mine?]”
Alvér moved with the slow deliberation that came with lessened sight. The eyes were turned towards her, but alas not on his face where eyes generally were, so his depth perception was so so. He turned toward her, the hand that hadn’t had the eye moving now near her, fingers curling in the air. He bent, moving in front of her in one liquid movement, where muscles on a person weren’t, and brought them about level with one another. Some approximation of sliding to one knee.
“[B You don’t feel her?]” he breathed, that hand held in front of her briefly. It hung in the air a moment, then came to rest on her knee, light touch, just barely there. His brows pressed together, face not exactly looking at her but past. Long fingers splayed easily across her leg as if she were petite. “[B She was here before I was.]”
With his touch came that tinge of his presence again, his power. It was more solid now, but not the same way it was when he was humanoid. As if it were echoiing, reaching from somewhere deep inside and barely making it out. Empty. And something else, something nagging at the edge of Alenia's consciousness. Not him, not Alvér. Something colder, pulsing.
Alvér’s breath came in, turning slightly. There was something brittle in her voice. His brows pressed together again, those eyes looking to her hands as they twisted within one another. He took his hand away from her, mouth thinning in a terse line. She had responded as he had thought she would. She hated to see. She was [i finally] seeing.
"[B You are disgusted,]" he said, voice hollow. Alér's face turned in that sneering look again as he laughed, once, shaking his head. But there was a turn to his brows that spoke of something that wrenched in him. He felt himself nearing the precipise where he would finally drive her off. She couldn't stand him, what he was, what he did. To himself or to others. She didn't believe him, and so she thought there was something worth not hurting.
"[B Ah, finally. I wondered when you would be.]" With that he leaned closer, his body near, shadowing her with its proximity. His body had heat to it now, something alive in it, if dim. It wasn't the vampire's body she had touched earlier. Though that whispered at the back of him somewhere like a cold draft. Now, it was raw, and it was close.
"[B You know,]" his voice dropped to a rasp, "[B I would have thought a heroine would have had a better stomach than this.]"
"[B Spirits,]" like she had implied when she was surprised he was real, physical, that she wanted to help move on. "[B aren't the pretty, ethereal things you've heard about. Not lost, tearful faces. They're a lingering scream. Something so awful that they're trapped in that moment for eternity. Bodies cut up as if they had been frozen in time.]"
His head tilted, turned just so, voice dropping to a whisper now, even with that edge of intensity, not anger, just shy of it. Shown in the way his teeth stayed closed as he spoke. "[B Don't you see her?]"
Alenia did not feel like having the same insurmountable argument twice in one day, so she let his initial comment about why she worried or cared be. He wasn’t ready to accept that another person could view him as worthy of concern, so the wood elf did not think she would get through to him. Whether or not that meant she should back off and let him be or push harder to change his mind though, that she did not know. It was a question for another time, as her mind was currently preoccupied.
There was a sense of relief to know it was not some place of mourning… though that did beg the question of what that area had actually been meant for. [b “No, I don’t really think that… but I thought it might be possible that you had lost someone, and this was your way of dealing with that.”] His comment about the bed confused her even more, though she did not linger on it. Must have been some saying she’d not heard. [b “I’ve seen people handle death in what feels like a million different ways, so I can never be sure.”] Some of those ways were healthier than others but based off what he was saying here it was irrelevant. Alenia had no way of telling if that was true, however she chose to believe him for now. No point in building pointless distrust. There was enough of that pointed at her, and it did not feel so great.
Light brown eyes watching as he stood, the woman thought he must have had enough of her again. Was she that unpalatable? To him, probably. However, Alvér did not leave. Instead he snatched his eye from the air, squelching it in his thin hand. The sound it made was unfit to be heard, that alone rolled Alenia’s stomach, but that wasn’t all. It felt like something was pulling tightly at her insides, taking them straight to the ground. He was clearly hurting himself, and it was absolutely heart wrenching. The twisting of emotions, pain, disgust, confusion, sadness, displayed plainly on her face as her fingers curled around her own hands, nails digging into her skin as though that would somehow alleviate the overwhelming sense of sorrow in her.
Words failed her in all meaningful ways. He mentioned the time, a comment that she supposed was meant to distance him from their previous conversation. [b “Yes, it is.”] Was all she managed out. With a little more time perhaps she would have said something, pleaded with him that he might not inflict such agony upon himself, and if that was too much than at least not in front of her. It hurt her heart. But she couldn’t say anything, she just let the quiet take hold. [b “I think I will stay here for a bit longer…”] An invitation for him to leave if he was tired or had something to do at this time of night.
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Alvér's mouth pushed to the side a little in a frown, shaking his head. "[B That is an answer based entirely on opinion.]" he said, aloud at least. He saw them now as a delicacy again, no longer a necessity. Something reaching back to the comfort he had been forced to flee once upon a time. Peaches were a seasonal gift, now. No longer the last thing he had to survive on. Perhaps he agreed with her to an extent, but Alvér was more content to be at odds. Different. Distant.
The creature's head shook, initially, again when she commented, and then grew still. Worried? His brows pushed together, his head turning down a little. He resisted the urge to look at her with the blatant, hesitant confusion he was feeling, working on keeping it from his face as best he could. He was left with a bemused, pursed look as he kept it steadily in profile for Alenia only.
"[B I don't see why,]" he said, voice stiff even to him. He wasn't ready for another argument, but the words were coming out anyways. He [i was] ready for an argument. He always was. He didn't see why she cared, why she was bothering other than through sheer stubbornness. Yes, he had come across that before. And to him it spoke of lies. A way to prove to [i others] that you could care for even the most wretched. Never a matter of caring for the subject; him. For all his foibles and detractments. His hand tightened on the peach.
"[B It's not.]" He said. "[B Perhaps it is that for someone else.]" It wasn't mourning for him. It was warning, perhaps. Something that could happen to him. Something that did, once. His hand tightened on the peach more. It relented in his hand and he tossed it toward the bush again, appetite for it lost.
Alvér stood, his palm rising, and his tongue laved over it from the heel of his hand, up along his center finger before it curled.
"[B Do you think I've killed, Alenia?]" Alvér asked, throat tight with expectation. His mouth twisted, a soft curl to the corners of his mouth. It wasn't a smile, more a baring of teeth. Brief. Once. Gone.
"[B No, you know I have. Do you think I [i kept] something I killed?]" He turned partially toward her now, blind face pivoting to show her more. All the eyes rolled to her. They frothed, coming in and out of existence like twinking stars around his neck and shoulders with how the dappled moonlight alighted on the dsembodied orbs. "[B That's not good hunting. Never take a corpse into your bed, it'll befoul it.]"
His hand came up, circling around one of the eyes floating there, looking to Alenia. He caught it in his hand, jaw tensioning with a muscle leap in his cheek. His hand tightened, and the orb squeaked with the pressure, rupturing into clear, thick liquid and more solid bits.
Alvér hissed, his teeth baring again as his face contorted in a twitch, a wince. He turned his hand and flicked the remnants of the eye to the ground. The oppossum had its scent now, darting out and dragging it toward its hiding spot. He was feeding it, the scavenger.
Exhaling, the tall, bent body turned towards the moon again as if feeling it on his skin. His jaw held up, empty eyes still encircled with dark lashes. There was a glimmer on his cheek as he let his head turn just so, before dismissing it with a brush of the curl of one finger. He delivered it to his mouth to lick off the tear from his knuckle.
He had that little sneer again, tight across his face as he scoffed and shook his head.
"[B It's late.]"
Her brown eyes followed his hand as he pointed farther off to someplace out of sight. From the look of the surrounding area it made sense that the gardens wrapped around the manor and took up most if not all of the estate. Alenia wondered if there was a small orchard in back. That would definitely be worth looking into later. Maybe tomorrow if she woke before the sun set again. She wanted to see it in the light.
Alvér found the crux of her issue rather quickly. [b “But that is when they are the sweetest and tastiest.”] There was a superficial whine in her voice, like something you might hear from a child trying to get their way. It seemed her stubbornness on this topic was exactly why she could scarcely avoid the mess. However, she did not linger on the subject.
Leaning back some, the woman looked up toward the sky as she listened to him. Much of the view was obstructed by the tree they sat beneath, but a few stars glimmered through the vine-like branches and into sight. Her eyes stayed there, transfixed to the strange mix of beauties. [b “That is good then… it looked to me like it might be a place of mourning. It’s not always good to have things like that so close... I was just worried about you, I guess.”] With such close proximity, it was easy for things like that to become an obsession. Of course, the context was very important. There was a difference between a memorial to honor those who had passed, and a shrine built to remind one of their mistakes and dues to someone they lost. Alenia truly could not tell where Alvèr laid upon that line, but she did not want to pry too much. Not after he had just gotten upset with her a short while ago. Besides, she didn't actually know what or who was down there. And that was if there was really anything there. It felt like it, that was for sure.
Alvér's eyes strayed away from her. He remained still as she came near and sat close, his head, blind-looking, staying still. Listening, instead. The little orbs with irises followed her instead. The only movement other than breeze catching in his hair briefly. His hands cradled the peach's unbitten sides.
He was carefully still when she continued on about the fruit. Initially he paid it no mind, but her oh, so casual mention of the basement, the curiosity in her tone. He wondered if she thought he had killed. If it was his coffin down there. Of course her explorations while she was cleaning, while he was out, not supervising her, would take her to such places. She seemed to like the kitchen, he thought. And food.
The creature's head turned slightly toward her, a bare, tiny movement he made slow, calculated.
"[B There's a tree,]" he said, gesturing with the hand holding the fruit. "[B in the back garden.]"
"[B It sounds like they are too ripe when you eat them.]" he said. Plums often were that way with him. They felt like they were even more insubstantial and soft than a peach did. He generally had them when just the top layer of the fruit had a little give. It meant the core was, sometimes, a bit sour, but he never minded.
Two more eyes popped up and gazed at her, blinking in and out of nothing, as if their eyelids were portal edges, hiding them from her reality, and bringing them back.
"[B It is a storage area,]" he responded. "[B I don't spend leisure time there, if that's what you're asking.]"
Alenia shrugged at his self-proclaimed ability to find what made others angry. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand what he meant, she would acknowledge that he could be difficult, but she didn’t want to exacerbate those negative feelings inside of him. Instead she came in close and took the spot next to him. The area around him was colder than usual. Perhaps in went along with his more distorted appearance? Once again, she did not know. The woman really hated being in the dark about so much. Her want to know more was getting stronger the longer she knew him. Normally after spending this much time together with another person, and going through all they had together, she would expect to be closer, but still it felt like there was a tall, stone wall between them. Cold and heavy, she did not know how to move passed it.
The woman wasn’t sure why she was surprised to discover that. Of course, Alvér would have likes and dislikes just like anyone else. But before this point it seemed like everything about him was eccentric or occult. It almost did not feel like something as mundane as loving peaches made sense with the picture he painted of himself… or rather the one she had painted of him. To her, it grounded him. Made him feel more tangible, even though so much of him physically was not. [b “That explains it then.”] She smiled over at him. [b “I found a bunch of peaches in the kitchen and some downstairs, so I was wondering.”] Her hands folded in her lap in front of her as she relaxed some. This was basically a normal conversation. It was nice. [b “I like peaches too, but I don’t eat them too often. I always manage to make a mess out of it and get the juice all over my hands. You would think I am old enough to figure it out, but I still haven’t. It’s kind of silly.”] Unless she had somewhere to clean herself of all the stickiness like a river or something, it was better just to avoid eating the things, even if they were yummy.
She wondered if that was enough to ease them into what she really wanted to know. It wouldn’t really matter in the end, because she was going to ask anyway. [b “So, if you keep them around to eat, does that mean that you spend a lot of time down in that cellar?”] Thinking about him sitting down there alone with that coffin somehow made her sad, but she tried to keep it out of her voice. Alenia did not want him to think she was pitying him.
The possum finished its tidbit, face snuffling around the ground for more. With the addition of the stranger there, the opossum stayed still, eyes intent on Alvér and body low to the ground.
Presently, the creature looked over as Alenia spoke, though ‘look’ would suggest he had eyes in those sockets. His head turned, and the little floating eye by his shoulder turned. Alvér hummed absently in acknowledgment of her, and peeled another piece from the peach with his thumb. He tossed it this time a little closer, not moving his arm, solely a wrist action, so it fell close by.
The ash colored creature crept closer, little black eyes focused on the piece of the peach.
He, too tipped his head when she did. Not that hard? She had been surprisingly unflappable thus far, so her saying that made him wonder. And, when provided with a list, he couldn’t help but arch a brow. As if she was trying so hard to normalize what happened. That he didn’t do anything wrong.
He exhaled softly, sitting back a bit. “[B I generally don’t have to ask. I tend to discover anger with ease.]”
Alvér’s head turned back down towards her when she came closer, frowning again, this time in confusion. She wanted to sit near him? So soon after this? His chest tightened a bit, but he looked away, sensing an ingratiating motive afoot. Alvér sighed. At least he was the host in this sense, and she would be trying to keep her spot in the house. It made sense.
He sighed softly, bracing a hand so he could move. That opened his cloaks again, showing the duplicate arms, moving and tucking back further. One twisted and more tentacle than limb. The other fully formed but emaciated. He moved over, bringing them closed again.
He took a bite from his peach. He gave her a glance, a couple more eyes opening in the air and turning here or there. One rolled toward Alenia.
Alvér nodded, “[B They’re my favorite.]” How she would respond would inform him if she were simply trying to repair them.
The story of the possum’s origin made her smile. Yet another nice thing he did. He was kind to animals if nothing else, and really Alenia thought that was more important. Though as he continued on her eyes came to the fruit in his hand. So it seemed he could eat other things. She probably hadn’t done him any harm by feeding him that pie. That or he was looking to harm himself in eating that peach. The elf could not tell, but she liked to think it was the former rather than the latter. Though now she was slightly wishing she had brought a peach cobbler instead of that apple pie back then, maybe they would be on better terms now. It was a hopeful but rather useless thought.
Her head tilted to the side, a touch confused at his final comment. [b “I guess you have, but I can’t say that is all that hard. There are a lot of things that bother me.”] She hummed lightly as she put together a quick mental list. [b “Stewed or roasted carrots, overly touchy old men, people who are needlessly mean to animals, and being caught in a heavy rain… just to name a few.”] She had plenty of things she disliked, or that bothered her, however you wanted to put it. [b “If you wanted to know so bad, then you could have always just asked.”] Alenia smiled and came in a bit closer. [b “Now scoot over, I want to sit next to you.”] As the woman patiently waited for him to oblige her request, she started onto something else. [b “So… do you like peaches?”] It was probably odd to ask with him currently eating one, but she wasn’t entirely sure how to otherwise breach the topic. ‘Hey, I was in your basement and I saw a bunch of peaches on the ground next to this old creepy crypt. What was that all about?’ Even in her mind that went less than swimmingly, so she wound up being more round about.
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