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- !event,
- akashi kaoru,
- akihiko sanada,
- akira kurusu,
- arsene lupin,
- balthazar,
- cairngorm,
- caramia,
- charlotte,
- crow,
- dave strider,
- dextera,
- eijirou kirishima,
- ekko,
- elizabeth,
- emma,
- estelle bright,
- goro akechi,
- gran,
- guren ichinose,
- henry,
- ignis scientia,
- izuku midoriya,
- john egbert,
- joshua bright,
- kei nanjo,
- keith,
- kenny mccormick,
- kyle broflovski,
- kyrie,
- maribelle,
- minato arisato,
- misaki yata,
- mitsuru kirijo,
- momo yaoyorozu,
- momosuke yamaoka,
- morag ladair,
- nagito komaeda,
- namine,
- noctis lucis caelum,
- nyx ulric,
- ochako uraraka,
- okuyasu nijimura,
- ouni,
- rex,
- riku nanase,
- rin okumura,
- ryo asuka,
- ryoji mochizuki,
- saruhiko fushimi,
- shiho sannomiya,
- shouto todoroki,
- tenya iida,
- terezi pyrope,
- terra,
- terra branford,
- tonbokiri,
- vriska serket,
- yusuke kitagawa,
- yuuya sakazaki
Intro Log.
 | |
Pussy's in the well. Who put her in? Little Johnny Thin. Who pulled her out? Little Tommy Stout. What a naughty boy was that, To try to drown poor pussy cat, Who never did him any harm, But killed all the mice in the farmer's barn. | |
Welcome to Awash's first intro log, everyone! Please review the FAQ and rules before playing. Characters have all woken at the bottom of the well in the middle of the town (which seems a lot bigger on the inside, somehow), and it looks like they'll have to put in some work to get out. | |
ou wake in knee-deep water, cold as ice and stagnant, in a space that is far too echoey and spacious. It feels like a massive cave, but looking up... there's only one small, circular opening that shows grey sky and shines any sort of light.
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Even with that all being said, he still reached a hand out to latch onto Kyrie's wrist.
It wasn't as if he was rejecting following him or even upset he went somewhere Caramia's gut wasn't telling him to go. Just the thought of Kyrie walking off, even if it was with the full intent of Caramia following behind, wasn't a fun one. Caramia might've had all the bravery in the world, but that still didn't stop him from not wanting to be alone. It was a childish thought, really. He knew Kyrie wouldn't approve.
He needed to protect Kyrie.Caramia stared solemnly at the ground again, and it took a couple of good and exaggerated seconds to pick his head up and force on a smile for Kyrie.
"Let me lead the way, 'kay?"
He didn't even let him respond, merely taking the lead with Kyrie in tow, keeping his wrist in a rather loose hold.
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He paused as Caramia did, frowning at the other's hand, then his lowered head. It reminded him too much of his former self--small, nervous, afraid--and for a moment, Kyrie's attention dropped to where he knew Caramia's pendant to be, as if it might have stopped working altogether. He wondered if he would be able to continue on if he were to have to rely on his own strength alone.
But when he was met with a smile, transparent though it might have been, he knew faulty magic wasn't the cause.
"Of course," he agreed after a moment, his held breath turning itself into a soft sigh instead. When Caramia began walking again, he fell into step just a fraction behind him. He knew better than to argue, and even if it was a performance only for his own benefit, it was good to see him acting more like his usual self. It set Kyrie more at ease as well--enough so that he had to duck his head against the fond smile that clung so stubbornly to his lips. It would figure that he'd be stuck with such a stupid, selfish lion, even now.
But then he supposed he was being selfish too, when he didn't immediately pull himself free. Or when he had first felt relief, to find Caramia there with him. Still... for right now, he couldn't quite bring himself to mind.
"Although, I can't quite tell if you intend to drag me along with this hold, or if this is just your way of holding hands. If it's the former, I can assure you I don't intend to leave your side just yet." A pause. Then, with a bit more humor to it he added, "If it's the latter, then frankly, your technique is atrocious. There's not a woman alive who would let you get away with such a grip."
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He knows his consigliere a bit too well.
He slowed down slightly when Kyrie berated him, managing to even scowl a little.
"Are you calling yourself a woman, Kyrie?" Really, what an awful argument to have. Still, despite the complaints, Caramia slid his hand down anyway to hold Kyrie's hand properly. "You're such a princess."
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"I am not. I was only relaying my kindest sympathies to those poor girls you must lead through town by their wrists, like damsels being dragged down into the dungeon."
And a princess--
He scoffed, not quite offended but refusing to let the comment slide unacknowledged all the same. It fell under their usual umbrella of banter, and frankly, there were worse positions to be associated with. He'd rather be a princess than a king, after all, given the terrible amount of responsibility assigned to the latter. It was just the logical choice.
Still, he closed his eyes and frowned, lifting his chin as he spoke up again.
"Grooooss." The word was drawn out far longer than necessary, in a high tone that carried with it all the disgust of a toddler complaining of cooties. "Caramia, you absolute degenerate. First you hug me, now this. You aren't concerned about losing track of me at all, are you? Why, I bet you've been looking for any excuse for this sort of behavior. You honestly are the worst."
He didn't pull his hand away, but he did let his whole arm fall slack, as if in doing so he might detach it from himself; it caused him to fall half a step farther behind, but he kept pace well enough that it didn't particularly hinder their progress. He wasn't so petty to allow his teasing to keep them from warmth and shelter, at least.
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Should he just let go of Kyrie's hand, then? If he was going to complain, then that was probably the smart option, right? It'd get him to shut up and they could go on their merry way. That said, Caramia still couldn't find it in him to let go. In fact, he selfishly squeezed a little tighter. Sorry, Kyrie, you'll have to deal with him being "gross".
"As my consigliere and long-time friend, you should well know by now that if I were trying to make a move of any sort, it'd be very deliberate." He was tempted to turn around and tease Kyrie about it, and... had they been back home, he might have. Here, though, he couldn't even think about it. He just... wanted to go home.
He managed to find a one of small cottages of Flavo, small and not well-kept at all, but it was certainly better than nothing. It was here that he finally released Kyrie's hand.