PCs with Gerome

[swordhandled]

[ some threads are nsfw ]

Comments

[maskarang]

The resort. [ he wishes he could specify further. sadly, he cannot.

no footprints, huh? walking around owain to hold out his hand. ]

[swordhandled]

[ owain hums, but he looks between gerome's hand and face, a little confused. ]

[maskarang]

[ waiting and ...?? it's... it's a hand? take it? he doesn't understand why this transparent gesture is getting him nowhere. after a while of awkward staring and holding his hand out pointlessly, he drops it and clears his throat again. ] I, uh... I wanted to help you up.

[swordhandled]

[ owain looks up at gerome a bit more and then just. extends his hand back out ]

[maskarang]

[ that worked better than expected. he'll have to give actual dialogue a try more often.

grabbing owain's hand and trying to pull him up. don't make him pat the snow off too, he'll do it. ]

[swordhandled]

[ he's grabbing gerome's hand and pulling himself up. no worries, he'll pat the snow off himself ]

Do you want to get out of the cold?

[maskarang]

That was my intent. [ not letting go yet. ] You've been here for some time sitting in the snow. It's... worrisome.

[swordhandled]

I'm used to it, you know. [ he's not letting go either ]

[maskarang]

No man is immune to the cold, Owain. [ and his hand proves it. he raises his other hand to feel the side of owain's face and then his forehead. ]

[swordhandled]

[ just as cold as his hands! and his face is totally red from that ]

Resistance isn't the same as immunity.

[maskarang]

And your resistance fades with every passing second. [ look, he knows you can't see how red your face is but it's clearly proving his point and nothing else. turning around and stalking off toward the resort.

and pulling owain along insistently. ]

[swordhandled]

[ FINE!!!

lets himself get tugged ]

[maskarang]

[ GOOD!!

he was going to head to a firepit but then owain had to be all cold!! dragging him to his ridiculous room and quickly opening it up. from her place on the bed, minerva lifts her head groggily. ] Inside.

[swordhandled]

[ HUFFS

and just ventures in. he offers minerva a small wave before settling in gently on the bed again ]

[maskarang]

No. [ shutting the door. he immediately turns his back on owain and heads to his closet to throw a new shirt and pair of pants at owain. they are, unsurprising, black.

he moves to the dresser. ] Undress.

[swordhandled]

[ he's taking the clothes and not making a move just yet ]

I'm fine, Gerome.

[maskarang]

[ stopping the hunt for more clothes to turn his head toward owain. he looks like he's about to insist, then stops.

let's try this again, less fiercely and more gently. ] If our positions were reversed, what would you say to me?

[swordhandled]

[ he gives gerome a long, searching look before he nods once.

then he starts undoing his shirt ]

[maskarang]

[ he thought so. turning his head again so his back is to owain.

guess he's waiting like this now. ]

[swordhandled]

[ eventually he calls out to Gerome ]

I'm finished.

[maskarang]

[ well, that was torturous. abandons the dresser and turns to owain. he stops and looks away. ] A somber look ill-suits you. My apologies, I should have chosen something less... dreary.

[swordhandled]

You can't help the clothes you were given, Gerome.

[maskarang]

The clothes and staff aren't at fault. [ his style is. alas, no need to say that. he nods to minerva before coming over and picking up owain's clothes from wherever they are. ]

[swordhandled]

Hm, perhaps not for this.

[maskarang]

... Anyway, you may need more warmth than those new clothes alone provide. Minerva— [ she rises, stretches, and then drops her head sluggishly onto owain's lap ] —should be sufficient. She's quite warm. And exceptionally cuddly.