oo1 . voice/action

[forhishonor]

--Hey!

[ the sound of muffled footsteps, quick and light, can be heard, followed a scant second later by swearing. ]

GIVE MY SWORD BACK, YOU ASSHOLE!

[ language, young master nightray. ]

Ugh! Give me that back or I swear on my honor as a Nightray that I will make you pay!

[ and now, more rapid footsteps, this time much louder and clearer than the last set. if you're prowling around the streets of the city, it might be best to scurry out of the way lest you be slammed into by an angry little boy. ]

Comments

[forhishonor]

Don't take to me like I'm four! I know what not to do!

[ but he will. be standing and waiting there. like a good child. ]

[a_parting_word]

[ ...and his good-for-nothing-not-brother will, in fact, show up some fifteen minutes later.

Possibly, with a pillow. ]

Elli - Elliot! You've - you look so - over here!

[forhishonor]

[ ....why does Gilbert have a pillow?

but elliot will look up at that familiar voice, and quit the pacing he's been doing for the past fifteen - fifteen?! - minutes. ]

Gilbert!

[ there might be a tiny hint of a smile there. tiny tiny. ]

What took you so long?

[a_parting_word]

I thought - I wanted...

[ he takes the time to fuss with his pillow for a moment, before leaving it on the nearest bench. ]

Here. Take a seat. It won't do... for the coat of the young Nightray master to dirty.

1/2 baaaaaw, gilbert T_T

[forhishonor]

[ Elliot looks at the pillow.

looks at Gilbert.

looks at the bench.

looks back at the pillow. ]

2/2

[forhishonor]

[ --and then proceeds to take a seat to the left of the pillow. ]

I don't care about a little dirt.

[ a pointed look at Gilbert. ]

Aren't you going to sit?

[a_parting_word]

[ dear god.

was this.

a flat out rejection.

of.

his.

pillow.

........................ ]

You'll ruin the hem of that - Yes. All right.

[ He sits as well. To the right of the pillow. ]

About this... this place. What do you remember last, before it?

[forhishonor]

[ .....WHAT IF IT IS? ]

I was leaving that stupid tea party at the Vessalius manor. I must have been hit on my way back.

[a_parting_word]

[ No, gods, say it ain't so.

( The pillow will take this time to deflate now.

One of its tassels is rapidly succumbing to gravity depression, too. ) ]

That's... that's a [ fortunate ] kind sort of day to last remember, at least. And there was Oz's company for you to enjoy. Days go a bit - differently here. There're...

[ Why yes, it is hereby time for Gil to fuss over invisible wrinkles on his coat. ]

...I think they call them 'curses.' It looks more like the work of a whimsical chain with everyone under its spell. People do things they wouldn't often do - or couldn't. It's strange. It's all very strange. Too strange even for Break to stop the spell.

[forhishonor]

[ (you lived a long and supportive life, pillow, before his highness Elliot Nightray came and delivered unto you an untimely demise. :( you shall earn a nice comfy spot in cushion heaven, have no fear.) ]

'Curses'?

[ that sounds both serious and absolutely childish at the same time. Elliot gives Gilbert a quizzical look. ]

Just what sorts of things are you talking about?