Posts by TallowCat

Crossing his arms and giving her an unimpressed look Corrin sighed. “Clean: the opposite of what you are.” A snarky response to be sure, but it was still in good fun. If he really cared so much he’d simply clean her room himself, he knew she’d hate him for a little while.
Her stuff was always in chaos, no real organization present, but she seemed to manage it quite well. She could find the things she wanted and never seemed to lose anything in the jumble of stuff she had.

“Don’t even try that look either, everyone knows you’re hardly innocent!” Laughing lightly Corrin shook his head. Sometimes he wondered what made them such good friends, they were opposites in a lot of ways yet they seemed to get along a lot better then most people.
He was certain that if she were anyone else he’d have probably already dropped the friendship and walked away. In most people the traits he liked about her were things he didn’t quite like in others.
Friendships were an odd thing to be certain.

“Don’t eat any of them. Can’t you at least wait for your family?” Even when he’d been sick, and his family insisted it was all right for him to eat before them, he’d always wait. He liked eating with others.
When he was sick it made him feel better, the nice chatter, and now he liked it just for the feeling of belonging.

“It’s not like you’re starving.”

Laughing again Marcus shook his head. Her words were pretty humorous to someone who’d actually trained with the old man. He wasn’t a bad teacher, though it was odd to see him dance, he just had a bit too much spirit.
“I’m sure you’d be fine. The Boss just takes it all very seriously, no matter how ridiculous he or we look. You’d be fine, I think, unless you want to test your words and see how you go?”

Marcus tried to keep himself calm, walking back through a crowded street wasn’t exactly what he wanted but now that he was more relaxed it was a bit easier. He weaved through the people quickly and easily, twisting to avoid contact.
There was one moment where a man pressed his hand to Marcus’ back, which made him shoot forward and away from both her and the man.

But when the camp cam into view again he sighed in relief. “Good, we’re back!” A few people raised there heads and gave them a wave.

((Hey, friend. Don't even worry about it.
Things happen that we can't control. I say make sure you're all sorted out and feel better before you come back! You're only human and you can't control everything.
I hope things calm down for you and you're able to feel better.))

Not believing his son in the slightest the older man pressed his hand to John’s shoulder. “It doesn’t seem like something so simple.” The older man didn’t want to find out his son was sick again, to him John had barely made away with his life.
“Go in, John. Ask Yun if there’s something he can give you to help.” Pushing his son gently inside his father shook his head.

“After that I say go and rest, wont do us any good if you’re sick.” Giving his son one last look the old man moved away.
“I’ll be out here if I’m needed, alright?”

At her giggles Anzel rolled his eyes, flicking her shoulder. “I promise you I wont let myself fall to that stage.” He knew it was teasing, hence why his reply was fairly tame, but it was a scary, and very possible, thought.
If he couldn’t recover fully in time he’d be stuck at the very basics. He’d need to work his way back through all the training he’d done in the past years. In a way that was a very real possibility, in another way it seemed so far off.
Anzel was certain he’d be able to get back into his training soon enough.

Anzel knew that he personally was looking much better. He wasn’t as pale as before and he was able to stand most times without the world spinning around him. But he still did have those bad bouts of coughing. While everything else seemed to be slowly going away those coughs clung to him horribly.
In the middle of the night he could wake, hacking and wheezing, unable to breath through his own horrendous coughs. Most of the time though he’d leave the room if he had to cough, not really wanting her to know the extent of it.

But her leg didn’t seem to be doing her many favors most days. Some days it seemed like she could walk fine, only a slight limp in her walk, but other times he couldn’t help but notice how bad it was. Sometimes her leg could barely keep her standing long enough to speak with him, and it still had that really sore look to it.
She was impatient, he could tell, she didn’t like being without her leg and it tormented her. There wasn’t much more he could do, beyond making sure it healed and lessening pain there wasn’t much else.

He chose not to look at her as she looked over the drawing. His skills weren’t something to be proud of, a simple drawing that he’d gotten some enjoyment out of. Besides, it was just a drawing, it wouldn’t mean much. He’d already decided that the journal was hers.
If he did decide to leave without her, he wasn’t too sure yet but he wasn’t going to say that, he’d leave the book with her. He’d never wanted one and the only use he found with that one was learning about the other him.

“Thank you, but really, it isn’t anything too special.” It wasn’t. Plenty of people had the same exact kinds of styles. His wasn’t much to look at in his eyes, but he wasn’t much of a visualizing person anyway. Something could be painted with so many colors and have an amazing design and he’d see little.
Maybe being in a world of white warped his sense of visual knowledge but he liked plain things. The white on the trees, the footprints in the snow. It was all so simple yet he loved it.

Only tilting his head at her murmur Anzel chose to stay quite this time, letting his thoughts wind themselves out. She may not see him as someone so plain but he couldn’t say there was much to him. Yes he kept people away but he had to, not doing that meant he’d get hurt.
It was just too simple, really.

While he wasn’t one for flirting, or even caring much for people in such a situation, he couldn’t help but feel some sort of pride, seeing her blush under his hand. Maybe it was wrong to feel pride from something like this but he felt like he actually won something from her. Him being the one to make her drop so far so quickly.

She seemed in a hurry; giving her a concerned look Anzel shook his head. “It was all my choice, nothing I need to be thanked for.” That was his thought anyway; to him people did things because they chose to. For him there was never a second reasoning as to why he should do something.
It’s just the way of the soldier.
“I appreciate it nonetheless.”

The second she stumbled he pushed himself up, ignoring the way his head spun and his stomach lurched. Quick as he could he grabbed her and held her steady.
“Easy now, don’t want you to get hurt.” With a small sigh he glanced down at her leg. It didn’t seem outwardly hurt but he knew that it mostly came from the internal pain.
“Come on, I think you should lay down.”
He’d clean up and then join her.

“We’ll both have to keep that in mind, if I start slacking.” He shot back, smiling lightly. They could say they were close, close enough to call each other friends, not that they did that. But sometimes when all seemed well they could have some small spat and all the progress would be put back.
Two people like them were bound to have ups and downs when it came to friendship One of them only ever had a friend in animals whilst the other actively pushed potential friends away.
Not the easiest people to get along.

Sometimes they just tried too hard. On her good days she’d be worse off the next day and the vicious cycle continued. She’d push to hard, forcing him to keep her in bed, but she’d still be stubborn enough to not listen to his words.
It was a shame, really. But he wasn’t much different. Good days he’d do as much as possible only to make the next day worse. Usually he tried to ignore the pounding headache he had but sometimes he could only bury his head under a pillow and ask her to leave him be.

Two idiots who didn’t want to accept their limits.

There wasn’t ever much thought put into what he’d do when he’d recovered. He always assumed he’d find a way to leave; he just never had the courage to leave. When he was better he assured himself he’d head back to the cold continent, go back and finish what he started with his life.
Or maybe he’d find a way home, a way back to the world he belonged to. It almost felt wrong, wrong to not accept this place as home. He couldn’t though, a place like this was so similar but he missed the things that made his home his home.

Anzel wouldn’t be able to say what stopped him from leaving Fiore after he first arrived. He should have known he’d be dragged back into the lifestyle he’d so readily ignored. Maybe it was pity, pity on the people who cried upon his return.
Maybe he was softer then he thought?

Independence. A word that had been a godsend for him. He was able to be independent, even if it meant lying about his age to get into the army. He was independent so he had no need to go back to his family, even when his chest hurt from being gone form the familiar for so long. Even when those from places more powerful pressured him and beat him.
He was independent and that’s what mattered to him.
But now they were both stuck relying on another person so much. Their independence had gotten thrown out a window and the other person had to help pick up the pieces. It was odd for both of them, having to lean so heavily on another person.

“Well, it is your journal.” Maybe he really was getting soft, he had moved so quickly to pick her up. And now, as he helped her move to the bed, he held her much closer then needed. Yes she needed some support but they both knew she didn’t need all the support he was giving her.
“It’s really not a problem…”

Pressing his nose down into the collar of his jacket Anzel tried to hide the small bout of coughs that came his way. Sometimes this coat was much to heavy and thick but other times it was the best thing in the world.
He was like a cat, hiding in puffed up fur.

“I suppose, if it means so much to you.” Dishes could wait a while, he supposed, no point in arguing with her now. She wasn’t about to let up. If he said no they’d argue until he inevitably gave up and sat by her side, if not a bit angrily.

Settling down Anzel folded his arms over his chest before hiding down in the collar of his shirt, eyes falling closed. Maybe he’d fall asleep, he wouldn’t mind. A rest was a rest and he’d be more then happy to accept it. Those horrible coughs sometimes made it hard to return to sleep.
“Happy..?”

((I can see the connection. Though I assure you there was no real thought put into Irko when I made him, haha. He actually used to be a scrapped idea. That’s super cool though, I’m sure Irko appreciates you thinking of him. Haha.))

“Ah… You’re all so different. I’m not sure how some of you can keep up with it.” When you came from a place where all people around you were essentially the same it was hard being around creatures that were so different in such odd manners. All Morte seemed the same in every regard, save some looks, so knowing that there were things that had little or large differences made them seem so odd.
Irko wasn’t certain he could even fit into any human category. Yes he had some oddities, considering he was a Morte with a soul, but he wasn’t close enough to fall under any human categories.

“It is an odd world, I suppose…” He eventually murmured, happily settling into the more quite nature of their talk. He wasn’t too certain what made him speak with her; he never had the want to speak with other humans. He never once thought that the best conversation he could have would come from a human. It made sense though; two beings with a soul automatically had some sort of connection.
Still, it scared him. It wasn’t hard for him to speak with her, and he still had the fear that she would turn her back on him. He had that horrible fear that he’d be dead the second he fully relaxed to her.

“London? I think I may have been there before, but I don’t have much of a memory of it.” Forgetting was also a bit scary, how was he supposed to do his job if he could forget so easily?
“I remember it looked nice, but little else. If I’m thinking of the right place that is…” There were plenty of places that he’d been, though he had the habit of simply forgetting them not long after they left. There really wasn’t much of a reason to remember places.

“Oh? You must get lonely without them, or maybe not? I hear some humans care little for parental figures. What do they do that calls them away from their daughter?” Irko was certain humans liked being together, with their blood that is. Some humans made big events out of spending time with their family.
“Why are you not with them? Wouldn’t you be brought along? Learn the skills for the field?” Did people still do that? Train the youngest generation in their own work to keep the line going? Or was he thinking too far back?
A hard call to make…

Irko’s shoulders shifted lightly, his hair felt heavier and he wasn’t too certain what he should expect form this sort of thing. He was certain she wouldn’t do anything bad, so that was a small load off his mind. Instead of thinking too hard on it Irko simply twisted his thin fingers together, feeling the light feathers that lay there. They were small and almost impossible to see if one wasn’t looking for them.
But they were softer then his others and they sat more flatly against his skin so they were rarely a bother. When he felt a bit out of it he’d often run his fingers over the tops of his hands to calm down, in a similar manner he’d do so with his hair. Though his hair calmed him down significantly more.

“That’s a bit sad, but why, if it’s alright to ask, couldn’t you stay with her? You’re friends right?” Irko wasn’t certain on the bond of friendship. It had a lot of things that seemed like they wouldn’t work. And they had just as many things that were impossible by Morte standards.
Staying silent for a moment the Morte let his eyes wander over his hands, fingers twisting. “What is a friend?” He eventually asked, voice fairly quiet.

Blinking slowly at the answer he was given Irko nodded. It made sense, he reasoned, though he couldn’t say that from experience. Once more he rubbed the tips of his fingers over the flat feathers on his hands.
“We’re not allowed things like that at home.” He eventually responded, giving reason for his lack of knowledge.

It was nice, her fingers felt absolutely divine in his hair and he couldn’t find anything else to match this to. The only times he’d ever had another persons hands in his hair were when it was threatened to be cut off and the few times the humans had grasped and pulled it.
Long hair was a danger but he cared for it too much to get rid of it. It was his and he felt calmed by it.

“It is. If I knew less I may think time had gone still, it feels like nothing ever moves…” In a place where all life seemed as hollow and dead as a corpse Irko had always enjoyed the scenery of the world beyond. Plants had colour and the sky was bright.

Closing his eyes when his hair was rinsed Irko made a small noise, one that wasn’t quite content but not irritated. The showerhead was a lot stronger then simply using his hands to scrub his hair, it was all better then using his hands. When he’d asked this favor of her he’d never expected this, he simply wanted some held scrubbing his feathers clean of blood.
When the comb brushed through his hair Irko head tilted back slightly and a noise almost resembling a purr rumbled from his throat. It wasn’t quite a purr, it more resembled a bird song with the pitch but in general it was a purr.

He’d never been so relaxed in his life, he wasn’t tense nor was he ready to move if the option arose. He was content to sit there and let her do what she wished.

“Mmm,” her tone had risen, she seemed happy, “of course. It’s not hard, you’re a human with a soul so you already have an advantage over me.” He still wasn’t quite sure what pushed humans away from magic.
“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t serious.” He was glad she was happy, he wouldn’t mind teaching her, if she was keen to learn.
“I’m not certain I’ll be a good teacher though.” Irko’s words were softer, not from being shy but from pure relaxation.

Shaking his head slightly at her words Irko didn’t see much of a problem. Indeed he may wish to but he followed his orders and rules. If he wasn’t to read then he wouldn’t. That wouldn’t stop him from wanting to know why they were so popular among humans. Biting his lip lightly he could feel the slight tug on his hair as she tried to work out a knot.
With her explanation Irko was quickly intrigued. It all sounded so odd but wonderful at the same time. It wasn’t something he’d be able to imagine but it seemed humans didn’t have that sort of problem.
“Ah…Really? Would… Would that be all right? If I were to accept your offer?”

Jean wasn’t one to admit defeat, not until he’d gotten himself near beaten to death. It was only then,, when he was limping back with a black eye, was he willing to tug on her sleeve and quietly ask for help. The first time it’d happened after Marcus had joined them he looked so concerned and scared.
But soon learned that was just how they were, that Jean was willing to let himself be beaten down before he actually attempted to get help. Bloody noses and black eyes were the most common things he got.

Personally Jean preferred bloody noses to anything else, with a black eye it was hard to aim and shoot without being slightly disorientated. As always bigger was better so bigger game was the thing he often went after, it was only when he couldn’t find any or knew it’d be better to not to that he went after smaller creatures.
That or when one angered him enough to get him to chase it to the ends of the earth. Like that rabbit that’d gotten him a knife in the foot.

In towns, when she should’ve known not to let him go off on his own, was when he got into the most fights. Usually just with drunken men who made some sort of comment about her but sometimes Jean was certain he just wanted to pick a fight.
They may have been great protectors of the land but Jean didn’t always hold the proud reputation they had high.

Coming from a family that Jean would call akin to rats he had a less then staller view of town men. Those were the sorts of people who scared him away into back allies, the sort of people who’s gripped him by the hair to drag him away. Of course his life in the poorer days was something he rarely spoke about.

It surprised him a bit, how easily sleep had come; normally he needed to be near exhaustion before he could get a comfortable night sleep. And with his arm in a not too grand condition it was amazing his body even allowed him the chance to fall asleep. Normally with injuries the pain persisted even when he had to sleep, maybe there was some light on this dim night.
Normally sleep was nothing more then a blank slate where he’d occasionally dream or have a nightmare. Normally he didn’t have much experience during the night, it was always the same bland sleep.

But that night Jean’s sleep was less then perfect. He couldn’t call them nightmares but the dreams he had scared him. Things twisted in horrible ways and voices were muffled and scraping against his ears. It wasn’t fear in the usual sense, he was rattled and unnerved, fearful of possibilities rather then actualities.
The way his fingers twitched slightly in his sleep showed his rest wasn’t completely calm. Even in such a state he couldn’t quite make out what made him fearful. Sometimes he was certain it was Amity, other times it was Marcus’ taunts of failure, occasionally it was his brothers, laughing and berating him for things he couldn’t control.

His rouse from sleep wasn’t something that was slow and peaceful. When she shook him he practically jumped to alertness, the worse scenario in his head for her waking him. His tense body slowly relaxed when he heard her voice, that ruled out attack and slowly his mind remembered that he wasn’t on first watch.
With a small sigh he allowed her to curl back against him.

With dreams of scaring figures still fresh in his mind Jean was sure he wouldn’t have trouble staying awake. He thought it was pretty childish of him, to be having nightmares of people who weren’t there. That’s the sort of thing kids got scared by, not him, not Jean.

But even so he reached over with his good arm and gently grabbed her hand, hoping that he wasn’t disrupting her sleep. It gave him a bit more confidence as he watched the forest around them; she made him feel a bit safer. She was so tired, he felt a bit bad for having made her take the first watch, but she hadn’t woken him earlier so it couldn’t have been that bad.

Blinking himself awake Jean watched the dying fire with a small sigh. His fingers gently ran over her hand in a way to keep himself moving and make sure she was still there, still okay.
The light was already reaching them, he wasn’t certain if he’d let his mind drift or if he’d actually only been woken up now.

Not one to sit around idly when the sun was starting to rise Jean let go of her hand and pulled himself out of his coat. It was warm and thick; perfect for hunting though he’d probably die when it got hotter.
Leaving her with his coat as a blanket Jean was determined to try and hunt something this morning, he wasn’t ready to admit he wasn’t able to. He was happy to let her sleep for as long as she wanted.

Picking up his bow and a few of his scattered arrows he made sure he didn’t stray too far, if she looked she’d see him fairly easily. He hoped some poor animal was stupid enough to come close to their camp.
When he saw a rabbit he raised the bow with a shaky arm, took his shot, only to miss by quite a large amount. The unsteadiness of his arm and the natural shake from the pain made it harder then ever.

((I didn’t have anything in particular planned; I was mostly going to leave it up to you. Since it’s your character and I’m not too sure where they’d want to go. Also just to make it easier for you to have more of a say in their lives. I hope that’s okay!))

Smirking to himself upon hearing her grumble Shima allowed himself to go quite for a while. Something in the back of his mind told him to just ditch the day and go haul himself up in the library where he could read until his heart’s content. But the other part of his mind was telling him to grow up and deal with the consequences of his stupid promises.
He should have known there was no backing out.

She hadn’t actually told him exactly what she wanted to do, it was all pretty vague and kept under hush, so he couldn’t even begin to guess what she had in mind. And considering it was her who knew what sort of thing there was to expect. It could be anything from something simple as an exploration to something like mountain hiking.
Mountain hiking didn’t sound too fun, he was certain he’d die if he did something like that.

Rolling his eyes at her answer Shima hid his head in his arms, somewhat hoping he could maybe catch a little more sleep before they left. “Of course, I’m sure something so simple is exactly what you want to drag me to do.”
His words were practically dripping in sarcasm, just as they usually were when he spoke to her. Sure sometimes it was just in good fun but other times his words did have a light sting to them, it was obvious that occasionally he didn’t have any negative intent from his words, it was just the way he was,

Pulling up when she moved over to him he gave her an odd look, she seemed quite happy with herself. Then again she always seemed happy with herself when she did something, it was pretty cute actually.
Something so simple could make her so happy, something most people never thought twice about. It probably made her life a bit more exciting, the way she saw things seemed a lot brighter then his.
But he was content with his little world.

“I admit, I’m impressed.” With a small smile he nodded to her, he was genuinely proud of her. Sometimes she seemed to find it hard to just do something so simple, mainly because she got distracted, so he was often quite proud of her for doing things.
“Come on then, let’s find out if this tastes like it looks.”

Marcus froze when she whispered to him, but made sure to keep his smile on as to not arouse suspicion from his family around them. “Ah, no worry happens all the time, accidents happen.” The last few words were practically hissed out from clenched teeth, both of them knew it was hardly what he said.
His family cared, they truly did, but sometimes they, mainly his sisters, thought the best way of taking care of him was to beat on the people who wronged them. It left them all with bruises and the boss yelling at them.
He was sure it’d be fine to let this slip under the rug.

Catching the colour purple with his eyes Marcus was completely ready to call out for Jean, only to see that smile on his face. His makeup had recently been done, and Jean wouldn’t leave it this long so something had messed it up.
The smile dropping from his face Marcus looked away from his brother.
“He’s got that stupid smile on. He’s been with some poor girl who probably didn’t even think before she fell for his words…”

Letting his shoulders drop Marcus tried to give her a smile. “Ah… Anything else you wanna do?”

Rolling his eyes again Corrin gave her a small flick on the arm. “But you aren’t. Knowing you, you wouldn’t let yourself get anywhere close to starvation.” His jab was good-natured but held some truth to it. Sometimes he was certain she ate for the sake of eating, not that he really knew how true that was.
Since he only ever ate with her, since he never really thought to do it, he only really ever ate for the sake of eating. So to him a bit more then enough was simply eating for pleasure and nothing more.

They balanced each other out in some ways. He could use a gentle shove to be more open and loud while she needed a calm hand to settle her down. She knew how to make him grin and be like a child while he knew how to get her into her work and help her study.
A good balance is key, they say, and they seemed to have found a good balance.

Simply laughing at her brother’s antics Corrin fixed his hair up before nodding to the family. He was much too shy to speak up around her family, it took, a bit of prompting before he could actually get into a proper conversation with any of them.

Nodding to his son the older man raised a hand in goodbye before turning back to his work. If the two boys were stuck inside someone had to work, and it just so happened he was the only one left to do it.
“What am I going to do with those boys?” Shaking his head the older man went to work, forcing most of his thoughts away in turn for work.

Nearly jumping out of his skin when the knock came to his door Yun counted himself lucky for not pricking his finger. Calming himself down Yun was tempted to just shoo whoever it was away in favor of his work but knew that wouldn’t be a good idea.
“Just a moment!” Setting his stuff aside Yun prepared himself before opening the door.

“Yes?”

((Hey don't worry about it at all. Things happen.))

((I don't have a picture for my character. I don't use pictures for my characters.))

((I'd like to expect at least two decent paragraphs, if that's all right. I understand low muse and such, but that's what I'd like.))

Jean was one to always have faith in his abilities. Whether it was from hunting to navigating Jean always felt it was good for one to have faith in their own abilities. Letting ones self fall into pity meant they’d find it harder to bring themselves up.
But he found it hard to keep himself in high spirits when he could barely hold his bow still, let alone actually catch anything. But stubborn he was and he wasn’t about to come back without anything. If it were a bird, fine. A rabbit? Fine.

Neither of the two catches he made were really of his desire. His arm had shaken horribly and he hadn’t been able to keep his arm straight so his arrow went flying off somewhere, the cry of a poor bird being the signal that he’d hit something.
He’d been tempted to leave the thing, it didn’t feel right taking something he hadn’t planned on taking. But the poor thing had died so he had to honour it somehow.

The second was a rabbit; the poor thing was limping when he’d found it. When it saw him it tried to run but simply collapsed where it was, a broken leg he assumed. Jean may have been a hunter, fully believing that if he caught it, it was fair. But this time it was less about hunting and more about putting the poor thing out of its misery.
Jean may have been a street raised dog but he had empathy, more so for animals then humans. Seeing a poor rabbit like this he felt obliged to help it rest. Even though his arm was shaking, from the pain or the guilt he wasn’t sure, he managed a clear shot on the small animal.
Again he was tempted to bury the small creature rather then bring it back.

A bird may not be a meal but it was worth something, maybe the feathers would be worth something? He wasn’t much for buying and selling.
The rabbit, at least, would give them a meal, small it may be. Sometimes rabbit was all they had for weeks. It was hard to catch things some days, especially when in an area where he could locate very little else.

Muttering swears under his breath Jean could feel his arm shaking uncontrollably. It hurt so much and he couldn’t help the hissed words that fell from between his clenched teeth.
His catches were in his good arm; he hadn’t even been able to pull the arrows out of their bodies. It sucked being left-handed at times, most things were orientated towards people who used their right. He rarely made not f the fact that he was left handed, a lacking percentage really, but when his dominant hand was weak he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d rather be right-handed.

Finally getting back to camp, after having been whacked in the face by a tree, Jean barely noticed she was awake. Once again he dumped his arrows and bow, more so because his arm could no longer support them, and soon noticed the fire once more jumping.
“You’re awake?” It was more of a question then a statement. He hadn’t actually been expecting her to be awake.

Dropping his catches Jean hissed again, dropping his head as he grabbed his arm. He wasn’t sure whether he should ask her about it or let it be, it hurt more then it had yesterday.
Biting his lip the tall man dug his nails into his hand. “Uh, um…Amity?”
His voice was soft, almost like he was scared.
“My… Ah, my arm.”

Raising his head to her Jean shivered slightly. It wasn’t exactly cold; hell it was getting closer and closer to the hotter months. Jean was just very susceptible to the cold; the smallest breeze could make him shiver at times.
In turn the heat rarely bothered him. Explained how he could wear his thick coat even in this weather.

“Oh, and, um, I caught some stuff, not really how I wanted to but,” he shrugged, “you know.”
Jean felt a bit awkward, most mornings he was the late riser, a grouchy one at that, and Marcus usually held the conversations with her. Yes he talked with her but normally he liked to just keep to himself and hunt in the mornings.

“How, um, how you feeling this morning?”
Awkward.

((Me too, I’m honestly surprised at how much I like him. I find it hard to make characters like him, so I wasn’t sure if I could play him well. With the whole aloof yet knowing thing going on. Thanks, by the way.))

He’d been to many places, who’s to say he hasn’t been to London? It seemed like a lot of the places he’d been to just blended together, making it hard to distinguish one from another. To him cities and towns were nothing more then a destination, a place to go to then leave.
Irko knew very little else when it came to figuring out places. He could remember features. Like beautiful fields and clean air, but never where those features belonged. Remembering and forgetting were parts of the soul, and the one thing that made him less then the other dolls.

Dropping his head slightly Irko hummed again. “Ah, but…” He bit his lip, unsure how to speak what he felt.
“I would like to, I think, but, um, how? I am allowed to do as I please when collecting is done but people would not be keen on seeing me. How would I stay without bringing unneeded fear?”
“Though I’m sure you’re correct, it probably is very nice.”

“Archeologist?” Now there was a word he’d never heard before. He was glad she took the time to explain it; it was certainly a word he’d never heard before. In saying that he wasn’t well versed in jobs, the basic ones he knew.
Brushing his thumb over the soft feathers of his hands again Irko slowly nodded. He didn’t understand why that was something they’d do but he supposed all humans were different.

“It sounds interesting, I suppose. It must be nice to travel so much.” Smiling lightly at her words Irko made another small chirp/purr-like sound.
“Too dangerous? You seem much tougher then an average human.” Covering the small smile with his hand Irko looked away from her.
“They must be quite silly to think you can’t handle something.” She seemed like the hardy type, the sort of person who could withstand so much and still stand tall and proud.

It reminded him faintly of the bull-like Morte, the one that was large and usually stood in the front, protecting the smaller ones from harm. Irko sometimes wondered what people like that would think about if they had souls. The Morte were all different, he wondered how their personalities would reflect that.
If they had personalities that is.

“Ah, that doesn’t sound good.” He’d never been sick before, that was something that had been accounted for when he was made. Indeed he could get sick but it seemed to be something that wouldn’t come easily.
Tilting his head back and forth again Irko blinked slowly at a place in front of him. He still had to pick up those feathers when this was done.
“I’m sure she appreciates you thinking about her…”

Twisting his hands again Irko waited for her response to his question. A friend. That wasn’t something he had nay idea about either. He knew humans tended to have small groups they liked, with certain people in them. But he never understood what it meant. Occasionally he heard them speak of friends but he hadn’t a clue on the word.
When he’d asked about he was told it was nothing, something he wasn’t fit to worry about.
As always he took their word for it and ignored the urge to find out more.

“Trust and rely on?” That was confusing; humans could put that much trust in each other? Without the fear of being stabbed in the back? Looking at her with a look of confusion it was obvious Irko didn’t quite understand what she had meant.
Those were all very vague topics that seemed less like something one could gain. A friend was those things? Then why had he heard so many people talking ill on their ‘friends’?
“Humans categorize ‘friends’?” Digging his nails into his pale skin the Morte turned away again.
“Are friends good?” what counted as a friend?

This was a nice situation, one he would be comfortable falling back into. Irko wasn’t certain if she felt the same, if she’d ever be willing to see him again. She knew he was a Morte, and one day he may come to get her.
For all he knew that could be the next day, or the day after.
When he left would he see her again?
Why did he want to see her again?

He wasn’t meant to have feelings, so why was he like this? This wasn’t what he was trained for!

Tensing up for a moment, Irko tried to focus, his scattered thoughts all racing around to find some perch to sit upon. He quickly relaxed again when she dumped the towel on his head.
“What is this then?” He questioned, not really getting what she was trying to accomplish. Hadn’t she just spent the past few minutes getting his hair smooth? Doing this would simply mess it up.
The comb back in his hair brought back the smoothness she’d just disrupted.

Running his long fingers through his hair again Irko’s eyes practically sparkled. His hair had never felt like this before. It had never been so smooth, sure it looked nice often but it didn’t ever feel like this. Sure it was straighter now, but he was sure it’d soon puff back up in the way that feathers do.
Speaking of feathers, he couldn’t feel them being knocked out as he brushed through his hair. Normally they just fell and scattered no matter what he did, but they stayed.
They stayed.

Tilting his head up to her Irko slowly nodded. She was excited for this, it seemed. Pulling his hair lightly it was still a bit damp but otherwise felt amazing. Standing up he nodded once more, using his hands to brush down the feathers of his arms.
Standing up had disrupted them slightly.

“You’re certain it’s okay?” He asked again, a bit nervous of the fact.
He shouldn’t be nervous, he shouldn’t be anything. He should simply be calm. What was wrong with him?

When she told him to wait Irko did so without question. Looking around lightly Irko still couldn’t handle how nice his hair felt. The way she had said it this was what humans did regularly for their hair.
He knew some humans were extremely obsessed with their looks, to the point of changing themselves on a drastic level, but he’d never understood. But maybe he understood that a bit better, now that he knew what the normal was he sort of wanted to know what else they did.

She had said that people usually kept to themselves but she didn’t live alone, so what if her Uncle returned home? That man probably wouldn’t be too happy to see a Morte in his home.

Perking back up when she reopened the door Irko blinked at her. Her tone was odd; it wasn’t one he’d ever heard before.
“Right.” Though she had given the okay Irko still hesitated before stepping in. He was scared to overstep his boundaries.
No, he wasn’t scared; he wasn’t allowed to be scared.

Unlike yesterday she seemed a lot better; she didn’t have the same tense air that had been there prior. Though that could be said about both of them, save his arm he was feeling a ton better, emotionally. They both felt better in many ways but the feeling of unease was still present. Neither of them knew where Marcus was and that put him on edge.
Having an enemy that may know your location was terrifying, but the same enemy also being one that knew you on a more personal level was worse. Marcus knew things that their enemy shouldn’t.

Other then all that her relaxed posture distracted him from the pain for a moment. Jean almost couldn’t believe how relaxed she was, like some things had never happened. Jean would be more then willing to accept that it was all a dream.

With a lopsided grin Jean shook his head, she was telling the truth though. The longer he slept the better he was, though he was always a bit of a pain when he woke up, no matter how long he slept for.
“Well sorry for liking sleep, with all we do I think it’d nice to have a load off.” He wasn’t really tired, ill dreams made sure of that, but he would admit he didn’t feel completely well.
“Well, that’s good…” What more was there to say?

He was taken back by the quick way she sat up, that wasn’t what he’d been expecting. With his arm shaking horribly near his chest Jean barely let the thought of that cross his mind when he saw the cheerfulness disappear from her face. He’d completely forgotten how much she worried for his wounds.
Giving her a concerned look Jean was about to speak, his mouth was already open, but he quickly withdrew any words he may have had when she lurched up. She stumbled and he moved to make sure she was okay, but it seemed like she wasn’t worried about that.

Feeling his thick coat on his shoulders Jean’s brows furred but he chose not to say anything. His good arm pulled the jacket tighter on his shoulders o it wouldn’t fall off, his fingers sinking into the material as she grabbed his arm.
A sharp hiss escaped him when his arm was forced out; he’d kept it close to his chest because that’s where it felt safest, where it hurt less. Maybe that was part of the problem though.

It had felt bad under the wrappings but the second they cam off it felt worse then before. Jean didn’t swear often, not enough that people would say he did it a lot, but he was a lot looser with his tongue when it came to harsh words.
So when the string of profanity came from his mouth he was sure she wasn’t surprised.
It had to be bad. The only times she ever swore were when something was absolutely terrible, or when he did something incredibly stupid.

Looking at it with a broken sort of look Jean couldn’t really think of any other response. It looked horrible, angry and only getting worse. He was certain she’d treated it well, why was this happening? Sure he wasn’t a medical genius but he was sure she’d done all she had to do.
“It wasn’t this bad yesterday…”

Biting his lip the ex-street rat gave her a small look.
“Ahaha… It doesn’t feel half as bad as it looks! I’ll be fine until we get the chance to deal with it,” pulling away Jean looked away for a moment, now feeling the sting on his face. “No need to rush or worry.”
It was obvious by his tone that he had a hard time believing them, there was true pain evident in his words and the way he pulled his coat tighter only reinforced the knowledge that he wasn’t feeling well.

Following her gaze to his game Jean gave another crooked grin. “Sorry, I didn’t really have the arm power to pull the arrows out.”
His laugh was fragile and slightly broken. His arm hurt more then any other injury he’d had before. Most of the time they had the supplies to deal with this sort of stuff on hand.
Marcus had convinced them and now they were paying the price.

His fingers lightly dusted over the wounded area, a sharp intake of breath coming from him as he pressed the slightest bit too hard.
“We’ll, um, we’ll tend to what we need to then pack up and make our way, right? That’s what we decided to do, yeah?”
Ever the man to ignore his own pains in preference for other things the dark haired man tried to force his thoughts into other things.

“No need to worry!” Two things were evident about Jean when in a bad situation.
If he was sick: he’d complain all day if he could.
If badly injured: he’d talk for a long time only to get the feelings of pain from his head.
Jean had a high tolerance for pain but even he had his limit with a pain like this.

It seemed like they were both trying to hide their unease, if the look in her eyes was anything to go by. Her hands were warm, and Jean was fond of warm things, so he leaned a bit into her hand, enjoying the feeling.
“Oh? Ah, just a tree, nature wasn’t on my side this morning.” He hadn’t realized it was actually noticeable. He’d simply assumed it just hurt and nothing more.
“Just a small whack, nothing to be concerned about, Amity.”

Biting his lip to hold back a groan of pain Jean let his eyes fall closed as he leaned into her touch.
“Glad you’re well rested at least. Knew I picked the smartest partner, in school and otherwise.” A small laugh.

((Good! I’m glad you like him; he wouldn’t be much if you didn’t like him! Eva’s just as cool of a character. It’ll really be interesting to see how we can bounce them off each other.))

Irko found enjoyment; he was certain that’s what it was, in small things. Watching the sunrise, looking at flowers and all things like them. His home was devoid of things that made this place so simple and nice, a sun that warmed and woke, people who could think and feel, colours. Things that were definitely simple and boring meant the world to him.
Going to a place that she seemed sure was great Irko wasn’t sure how he’d feel. Going to places was his job as well, though he never got the chance of actually visiting places, but he knew that his and her parent’s jobs were greatly different.

Maybe if he ever actually got the chance he may loiter around London, just to have a reason to see the sights. But beyond seeing them was there much reason for doing that? He knew that people found some odd enjoyment out of seeing places and taking photos of them.

Tilting his head slightly Irko once again gave her an odd look at her thanks, but chose to stay quite about it this time.
“I speak only from what I see.” Irko wasn’t sure how else to respond to her words. She may have explained thanks to him and he knew the usage of it but it still seemed to odd to thank someone for something that should be done or something small.
The closest thing to thanks he knew was the relief when he wasn’t picked off for doing something he wasn’t supposed to.

Was relief something he was supposed to feel? Or was that another thing that he had to try and figure out how to crush?
Being with a soul confused him. He sometimes felt small pangs of emotions, things he hadn’t been able to train away, so why did it happen? Why did he feel so many different things around her? She was a human, a target a job.
Why did thinking like that make his chest hurt?

Nodding slowly Irko glanced away, trying to sort out her words in his head. A person you trust? Now that was hard to wrap his head around, it was hard to trust anyone, Irko was sure.
“Unworthy?” He questioned slowly, looking at her for a moment. It made sense, it was hard enough to find those worthy of some of the things they had in life, to find someone worthy of something like trust would be a miracle.

Sighing slightly Irko shook his head, he thought he understood but with every word she said he found it harder and harder to get a grasp on what a friend was. Friends seemed like a complicated thing, yet humans could throw the word around like it was nothing.
“Sounds like a lot. Seems like friends are made up of just as many factors as a human themselves.”

“Human’s can lie without a second thought… They can cheat and steal and feel as though they’ve done nothing wrong…” Humans could spit all the insults they wanted at the Morte, call them murderers or anything else, but it was humans who learned to lie, humans who learnt to harm.
“It is scary, in a way I suppose, that there are creatures who can speak ill on each other and accept that as truth. I doubt I could ever find the will to harm someone, emotionally or physically, who has done little wrong…”

With his fingers still lightly brushing through the clean locks Irko wasn’t sure he’d be keen to go back out, now knowing that this was the regular for humans. Getting his hair dirty and having to clean with only cold water would only reinforce the fact that he’d been missing out.
In a way he felt like a child, if that was right. So giddy, he shouldn’t be giddy, over something that she found to be extremely normal. Maybe he shouldn’t have offered to bring her back, now he was feeling more then he should.
He could feel the oddest flutter in his chest when he thought back on the recent events. Was he sick? His chest only felt like that when he was sick, not that that happened very often.

Once more Irko chose to ignore what he didn’t understand, assuring himself that it’d all disappear with time. Time healed all wounds, as they say, so why couldn’t it make feeling’s disappear? Feelings weren’t worth much, he was sure. He’d lived his whole life without them, only the smallest twinges, so going the rest wouldn’t be s stretch.
Right?

At her words Irko made a small noise, one that was less pleasant then before. He wasn’t too keen on the idea of being anywhere that he wasn’t certain was all right. She may say wherever but he’d heard things similar to that, and when following the words directly he often earned nothing but a harsh smack on the back of the head.
He remembered that there’d been a time he’d done something wrong, he couldn’t remember that detail sadly, but his punishment had been to have all his feathers plucked. From hair to arm to leg every one of those feathers was ripped out and he hadn’t been able to move properly in days.

In some ways he was thankful that he’d only had his feathers plucked and not his hair cut. In other ways he hated the thought of having that done again in turn for his hair.

Choosing just to settle on the ground in front of her, legs folded under him, Irko watched her. What was he to do when he left? Just return home? That’s what he’d have to do.
But he couldn’t explain the feeling that came when he thought that. He had to leave, he knew that, but in some ways it hurt, like leaving would be bad.

He hadn’t noticed she was staring, he was hoping she hadn’t noticed the way he’d been spaced out in his thoughts. Gently taking the books when she offered Irko didn’t really notice the way his large sleeves slipped down his arms, revealing the feathers below.
While he had probably the most human-like appearance out of any of the Morte he wasn’t devoid of his animalistic side.

Listening to her explain the books Irko couldn’t help but become enthralled in what she was saying. He knew he wouldn’t be able to come up with something like that, that was definitely something only a human could conceive.
If these were the first books in the series he couldn’t help but wonder what more a human could think of.
He knew humans were enthralled by magic, many of them seemed to think it only something in stories, but he’d have never guessed something that, to him, was so simple could spawn such tales.

“It all sounds delightful, something that only a human could think of, certainly.” It had become apparent that he found difficulty inflicting emotion in his expression, but his words usually held some sort of tone.
“I can’t fathom what would bring this sort of thing to mind… I’d have never guessed humans had such a wide range of thought, not to be rude in any way, of course.”

((Haha, feels that way, doesn’t it? I can still remember when my sister talked me into reading them.))

Jean was a man who rarely liked to think of the past, the wounds of that time were things he liked to leave in those times. People who hurt him were often forgotten and events that triggered the now where lost to a sea of memories and thoughts.
Yet even being that sort of person Jean knew that this, Marcus’ betrayal, would be something to haunt him for what could be years. He knew that ever time he put his trust in someone he’d be asking himself, ‘will this be the new Marcus?’
It was scary, thinking how one thing would change him for what could possibly be the worst.

The lovely eased air had been thrown out as quickly as it’d come; the tense atmosphere that last night held was back once more. Knowing the mood was something Jean liked to pride himself on, it’s just that he never really took it into account. He could read a mood but he usually discarded it in hopes of furthering whatever was in his head.
This time though, he knew that speaking out of turn would only turn the mood further south.

When he first met her he’d have never guessed she was the worrying type. He was dead wrong. Most of the time she kept her worry hidden, choosing to show it in little ways that had taken him months to understand. But she was a worrier, while most people would brush off his comments, believing what he said, she always went the extra mile to make sure he was telling the truth.
Most of the time he wasn’t.

They both had a lot of little quirks, things that people wouldn’t understand or notice. Like the slightest way her eye changed on her mood, or how her stance changed depending on the area. There were small things too, like how she loved to look at the stars before she slept, or how she spoke when talking to people. Sometimes it was just the slightest change in tone, while other times it was completely different, like how she spoke to him compared to Marcus.
There were so many other things that she did that had taken him years to find and understand, just like there were just as many things about him that she’d learnt.

Returning her faint smile with a grin Jean laughed. “I like to think I’m pretty good at picking the best from the bunch.”
She’d hated him for days after she’d talked him down. Neither of them were supposed to be there and she’d gone through all the trouble just to get him down. He wondered what she’d thought of him when they first met, he knew he thought she was a brat, stuck up and nosy.
Funny how much things can change. That stuck up brat was the same girl who made sure he didn’t die. The same girl he’d call akin to a cat, the same girl whose words he followed to a t. Most of the time.

Shaking his head again Jean shifted the coat on his shoulders. Even like this he could be an idiot and she’d find someway of teasing him.
“That’s why you’re here, right? To make sure I don’t do something stupid?”

He knew this would happen, he’d have to put more of that horrid stuff on his arm. But it was needed and now that his arm was exposed he’d need it more then ever. He wasn’t too keen on catching something because he refused treatment. He wouldn’t be a bratty child.
Following her orders Jean sat down, even though his expression showed less then happy expectancy.

There was no hesitation on her part it seemed; just straight up applies it right to the wound. Normally she’d give some sort of warning, whether that be a scolding or an actual warning, so he hadn’t prepared himself for the horrible pain that came with it.
A sharp hissed swear escaped him and Jean grabbed her shoulder with his good arm and squeezed. Not enough to hurt, though he was sure he had strong enough hands to do so, but just enough to make sure she knew he was in pain.

With his arm wrapped Jean pulled his arm to his chest, shoulders still shaking from the pain. There was no argument about taking the bark like normal, he didn’t care what it was he’d be more then happy to take whatever he could to take away any amount of pain.
“Augh, that hurts…”
Fixing up his jacket Jean slowly nodded at her words, knowing there was no way for him to argue.

At least she gave him something to do, he didn’t like having to sit still, but he knew that if he tried anything with his arm he’d be sorry. Firstly it’d hurt, but more importantly she was more then likely to beat him senseless if he tried to go against what she said.
“Alright…” His voice was softer, one he was still trying to fix his head up after that rush of pain and secondly he just didn’t feel up for speaking any louder.

Really there wasn’t too much to pack up, the camp had been a hasty rush and he couldn’t do much without his left arm. He could barely hold a cup with his right hand how was he expected to do anything more? But still he did, he continued to pack whatever he could as he was told.
“Can’t believe I had to get hit in the left arm, why the dominant side? Why couldn’t it just be a graze or something?” His grumbled were low and he had a good reason for them.