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Entry tags:
[Action] Thot or not?
Who: Ted and Sonico
What: Ill-fated conversation about careers and lust
Where: Fayren in the afternoon
Warning: Lust is the subject matter. Initially just the two of them, but run into them later if you want.
The first part of any crimefighting crusade was chatting up the locals and squeezing them for all they've got. Some ne'er-do-well had been polluting the city's fortune, in the superstitious sense. A curse of bad luck had cast a pall over this part of the world, thinning out the people he'd usually talk to. Not many were out and about when whatever could go wrong almost certainly would.
Or so it's said. Ted, for all his fancy and eccentricity, is not especially superstitious, and treated the day like any other. The sprites had other ideas, if the emptiness and silence of the village was any indication.
Where is everyone? Alone and shut up, living lives as inobtrusive as they could. If every roll of the dice was snake eyes, the only winning move was not to play.
That makes it harder for Ted and his tedious gruntwork than usual. Doubtless people would avoid him if they suspected any chance of, say, his gun misfiring or something. At this rate he'll just have to head back to Everglade and deal with their turmoil instead.
But wait, what's this? What a length of pink hair! He'd know that anywhere: Sonico! He'd flag her down to talk and inquire. Who knows, maybe she has some insight into the luck-damning dastard!
"Hello, Sonico! Fancy meeting you here! Been mindful of any black cats in your way? I've got salt to toss over your shoulder, if you need it."
If they only knew how much their luck was about to suffer.
What: Ill-fated conversation about careers and lust
Where: Fayren in the afternoon
Warning: Lust is the subject matter. Initially just the two of them, but run into them later if you want.
The first part of any crimefighting crusade was chatting up the locals and squeezing them for all they've got. Some ne'er-do-well had been polluting the city's fortune, in the superstitious sense. A curse of bad luck had cast a pall over this part of the world, thinning out the people he'd usually talk to. Not many were out and about when whatever could go wrong almost certainly would.
Or so it's said. Ted, for all his fancy and eccentricity, is not especially superstitious, and treated the day like any other. The sprites had other ideas, if the emptiness and silence of the village was any indication.
Where is everyone? Alone and shut up, living lives as inobtrusive as they could. If every roll of the dice was snake eyes, the only winning move was not to play.
That makes it harder for Ted and his tedious gruntwork than usual. Doubtless people would avoid him if they suspected any chance of, say, his gun misfiring or something. At this rate he'll just have to head back to Everglade and deal with their turmoil instead.
But wait, what's this? What a length of pink hair! He'd know that anywhere: Sonico! He'd flag her down to talk and inquire. Who knows, maybe she has some insight into the luck-damning dastard!
"Hello, Sonico! Fancy meeting you here! Been mindful of any black cats in your way? I've got salt to toss over your shoulder, if you need it."
If they only knew how much their luck was about to suffer.
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Then she looked to Sakuya and swiped at her eyes - was she crying? She knew she nearly had been, and it would be horribly embarrassing if she were crying and she hadn't even realised that yet. She bit her lip and bowed her head, looking between the two like a lost school girl, "I - It's okay. It's over. I just... I need to go home."
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Wow, first Mercury and now this psycho. Sonico, consider new friends. Preferably ones who aren't killers.
"Ah, perhaps I wasn't speaking clearly. It's private," he said with a slightly more severe tone. He's glad that Sonico's attempting to defuse the madwoman, at the very least. Hopefully if she's such a "dear friend", she'll leave Ted alone in favor of Sonico, which is what he'd really like. Heedless of the threat, he walked away regardless. There's manners to think of.
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Ted, on the other hand, would suddenly find himself in an alleyway about a block from where he started in an alley next to a dumpster in nothing but his underwear and with the wind knocked out of him. He'd be sporting several new bruises including a black eye.
At least Sakuya had dumped his clothes and bag next to him.
Sakuya huffed, turning to Sonico, her knees and knuckles significantly redder than they had been a moment ago. She placed a hand on Sonico's shoulder, gently turning her, and guiding her in the opposite direction.
"I am buying you a milkshake. Then I will be walking to you to your apartment. I will not stand him heckling you again."
Overprotective might not be strong enough a word in this situation.
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Battered and beaten in the garbage; Sakuya, Ted thought, had some poetry about her. It seemed like the way a maid would treat objects of her ire. Whatever had just happened to him--he'd reason and inquire about the time manipulation later--it certainly smart. But worse than that: he's not decent! In his boxers he jerked left and right to find...phew, his bag, thank goodness. Providently, the bad luck scare gave him privacy enough to cover up.
"Bad luck indeed," he marveled aloud. Just how much of today's misfortune could be laid at bad luck's feet?
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"He's fine." Sakuya responded. "If he physically harmed you then he would have much worse than a bruise or two." The maid flexed her hands. Striking the Kamui had really hurt.
She let out a breath, turned, and took Sonico by the elbow, gently leading her in the opposite direction of where she had left the fool. "Yes. Milkshakes. Whatever he said to you is not worth crying over. He does not think about what he says."
Sakuya was still clearly fairly angry, but she was not taking it out on Sonico.
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"I do not keep many people by my side, but the ones I do I will always protect. And this includes you. If you need help or to speak to someone you can always turn to me and I will be happy to assist however I can."
She worried about Sonico's well-being far more than she'd ever admit.
no subject