mortememoria

[mortememoria]

hurried steps fade out behind him, an extra level of worry now long gone, leaving raven the main focal point. he knew not what the other man was capable of and, in the passing moment, hadn't really cared. so long as the person before him was seen to safety, he could find some relief in that.

he's managed far worse than some alley dweller, anyway. regardless of the strange, gut-feeling left behind.

"eager? didn't ya hear me, this is all one big coincidence!" he just so happened to be around the corner, was all. forget the part about having been watching, planning his entrance the moment the atmosphere grew too thick.

"might feel more inclined for introductions if ya weren't so intent on givin' me the creeps. so how's about i hold off on that, whaddaya say?"

"Hm," a man with plentiful stories. The demonlord eyes observe the man and he doesn't pay any mind to the human who takes this chance to scurry away as quickly as he can.

Sebastian is focused on listening to the blood coursing through this human's vein. It sounds delicious and if this man was willing to place himself on the platter then so be it (it's a challenge Sebastian will accept.)

"Indeed. The night is only young and I am in no hurry." He steps forward, hands remaining in his pockets, "Since you are eager to take his place, you will give me your name, yes?"

[mortememoria]

..... meow?

raven casts the creature a widened stare, blinking slowly. although he may not know such a beast personally, memory was quick to chime in, addressing that what he was hearing was far from correct. small, squeaky -- one might mistaken the sound for a kittens mew, but this? this was its own level of wrong--

hold on, what was that in between?

"mouthy lil' thing, ain't'cha." from what he could recall, it was customary to battle the creature before going in for the catch, but curiosity stayed the former archers hand. occupied pokeballs remained at rest against his belt. the empty capsule he'd enlarged was given a toss, testing the weight.

"a pokemon with the ability to speak," ( the doubts are already in place about that ). quirking a brow, raven's head tilts. lingering curiosity pushing a mischievous smile along his features until his arm is pulled back, ball in hand. "let's see if i don't have to rough ya up a bit first!"

whoosh! the love ball is tossed, aimed right for the stufful's little, pink noggin.

most of will's intentions are underscored with some type of mischief, ranging from humorous to .. still humorous, but probably only to will and not to the person whose day he just ruined. his current form - a cute creature he'd seen in the small device carried by those searching for these small animals - has its motivations closer to the first, to a harmless but entertaining prank. from what he understands, the creatures only make noises and are expected to say perhaps a word or two .. so the concept of one busting out an entire sentence with a sinister undertone is amusing for will. it'll definitely catch the stranger off-guard, though the potential of an unforgettable, infinitely hilarious story is alluring.

so, laying in between the grass and feigning bliss to the other's arrival, will theatrically tenses up at the voice echoing through the outside air. he stands, awkwardly turning on all fours to face the trainer.

" .. meow! " he yells, suddenly realising he doesn't know what sounds stuffuls emit. they look small and furry, so they definitely mew .. for sure. wide eyes blink with faux innocence, a lack of thought existing behind them. " meow meow .. meow meow meow .. there is death .. meow meow meow .. "

[mortememoria]

slipping into crime scenes? detectives? they really got the kid roped up on a new outlook. far different than the one raven was left with, but it seemed like yuri was more comfortably set in playing along with whatever ideas had been crammed into that hard skull of his. seemed he had a spot in those memories of his, still, though.

regardless of what tune he dances to, yuri still remains yuri. repede, too, it would seem, if that casual disinterest was anything to go by. his poor ditto barely given a second thought before the pooch was taking to his companions side.

raven almost has to stifle a laugh before chiming in again, a hand casually risen to wave away the attorney's question, "ohh, no, it can do a lot more than just play my double." sticking to his visage just made it easier to keep track of the fella, and of what trouble it might get itself into. "the idea is ta keep the lil' guy outta trouble, though--"

' ditto! '

taking that as its cue, ditto lets itself stretch in a joyous wobble, its body soon enveloped in a white glow as transform took effect. the pokemons silhouette rises and expands, slowly forming into a desired shape. once satisfied with its transformation the glow fades, revealing a new form taken.

where there wasn't one before, there's now a tail set wagging as ditto sits itself back. rather pleased with yuri's suggestion, it would seem.

"...buuuut it seems ya went and fed it an idea it liked. good goin', kid. guess repede's got a bit o' competition after all, eh?"

"i didn't say that. i'm sure the blob has its uses..." the pensive pointer finger tip-tapping at his chin falls into a snap, light-bulb lit, "like slipping into crime scenes! i doubt those boneheaded detectives back home could tell the difference as long as its dashing visage matched that of their perfect captain."

...even if leblanc and the tweedles aren't officially dancing to raven's tune anymore. he gave up on that gig after yuri took chief alexei down in court.

he whistles, then, and a set of four paws speed toward the small gathering, dutiful as ever. "oy, repede! check out your new competition."

repede sniffs, circling, tail swaying... and nigh-instantly decides his time's better spent laying at the attorney's side for ear scritches (no threat to his 'best boy' title, it seems).

"so does... ditto only have a raven setting? talk about a raw deal," yuri snarks. it's all a bit too out-there for a regular guy like him to take seriously. "it'd get away with a lot more mischief looking like repede than a fishy, middle-aged guy."

[mortememoria]

odd was one way of putting it, recognizing a creature never seen before. known from a life never truly lived, a fabrication he was meant to believe. false instinct is what had a thumb hooking against his belt, a finger idly tapping against a shrunken capsule hooked to it. pokeballs, lined and ready.

a stufful, his false memories told him. cute little thing. although he was fairly content with the companions he carried already, there was a curious impulse that lead fingers to pluck a ball from his belt.

he was supposed to be some trainer, right? taking joy in capturing these creatures; befriending and fighting alongside them. raven's memories of it may not be real, but the playful urge to play into them certainly was.

"may as well take a crack at this!" pokeball rests within his palm, index pressing the button within the middle of it to enlarge the heart-decorated capsule. "whaddaya say, my furry friend? care to be my first catch?"

@allhesaid

[mortememoria]

succeeded in gaining the attention he wanted and a little extra, had he? it's enough to alter the archer's focus, again, a set of turquoise falling upon an extended hand; traveling up its length until his newly seated companion is in view. they were more alluring up close, holding a gaze one might easily get swept away in, held up with such comfortable confidence. captivating was one way to put it. beautiful was another.

"don't usually, ya say?" he hums in return, lips curling as he did so. as his hand draws in his refilled glass, raven's head is tilted towards the bartender. gaze flickering over with a subtle bob of the head towards the tiefling, a silent calling to fetch her something as well. a fine addition to his growing tab. "makes it sound like ya have room for an exception."

"you can forgive me this once, can't ya, darlin'? hard not to let the ol' eyes go wanderin' when someone so lovely's sittin' nearby."

his smile only seems to widen, hooded eyes left to linger for a beat until his drink rises once more. a sip to coat his tongue, a familiar warmth down his throat that settles in his chest. loosens his tongue, makes this song and dance easier.

as it meets the counter again, fingers are left atop its rim loosely. keeping mindful of it while raven turns in his seat, enough to more comfortably face the stranger and treat the counter beside him like a perch to lean against.

"surely i can get a name to fit a memorable face?" brow quirks playfully, shoulders given a subtle shake with the amused huff that leaves him next.

"or is that gonna come with a cost, too?"

isn't that a cute attempt at getting away with staring. simply shutting your eyes is more subtle than jerking your head away at least, but fiyero still snorts from where she's sitting, a few chairs to the side of the man, engaged with the bartender.

   people always think she can't tell. sometimes they want her to, to throw an insult her way. but fiyero not only craves attention constantly, she also demands it, expertise in knowing whether or not people mean to be rude. the bartender pulls his attention away from their conversation, moves to fill the man's drink up, and fiyero takes that chance to leave her chair and slide into the one next to him.

   ' evening, handsome, ' she whistles as she leans closer, hand extending across the bar in front of them. she doesn't touch him, but she makes it very clear that she wouldn't mind that particular closeness. and he is handsome, isn't he? the lights in this bar are dim, but she thinks she can see green eyes framed by hints of crow's feet. there's something rugged about him.

   her half-empty glass has been left behind by her previous spot. she tilts her head and grins at him. ' it's only polite to offer me a drink if you're going to look. ' the bartender is done filling the man's glass, pretends to not be listening in. waits to see which one of them will order something for the tiefling. fiyero gives him a wink before returning her attention to the stranger.

   ' i don't usually offer shows for free. it's bad for business. '

[mortememoria]

"why go askin' me? ya already got your answer." it greeted him clearly enough, didn't it? but he clearly wasn't going to wait for further explanation. can't even offer raven a lick of patience, can he? go figure.

where he can't offer much denial to the boys statement, the trainer lifts his shoulders in a light-hearted shrug. transform certainly did come in handy, even if he's only had the little guy use it a few times here. memory wanted to tell him otherwise, that he made a decent habit out of it -- really would be fitting. if it were true.

"now why would i go and do a thing like that?" no, he's not looking for an answer to that.

" 'sides, lil' fella's got a mind o' its own. i don't have much say in the matter half the time." gaze shifts in a blink, eyes directed over to the dot-eyed pokemon. "like the moment ya walked in on, for instance. it's quite the character, don't have to tell it a thing."

' ditt-ooo! '

"i hear ya, but i don't think yuri's much of a fan o' yer skills, buddy."

catastrophic in the sense that he'd only come back to life and pester him about it, maybe. one time's more than enough.

luckily, he knows how to brush off the other man's nonsense and instead chooses to wave his briefcase at the shapeshifting blob raven's oh-so-conveniently glossing over. "...new pet?" ('ditto' to it, too... i guess). "what the heck is it?"

not waiting for an answer (nor expecting a straight one), he squats to its level. "fitting trick, considering sneaky disguises are sorta your thing, raven," there's a light-hearted undertone despite the migraine-inducing memories it alludes to. let's just say his (double-)cross-examinations weren't among yuri's favorites-- for a variety of reasons ranging from irritating to downright gut-wrenching.

eh, but no one wants to hear about that, he's sure.

"...an upstanding old man such as yourself would never think of using it for anything dubious, right?"

[mortememoria]

self-annihilation (the snake that eats itself)

[mortememoria]

he should be smacking himself for his choice of phrasing if that was the conclusion this guy was jumping to, yet that wasn't the most perplexing string of words to fall from the tailor's lips. raven's mouth might have been left agape with the admittance to wanting his body -- if not for the additions that followed.

living. dead.

"oh, yer definitely movin' too fast," and in a drastically different direction than previously perceived. creeping unease was right to settle against him. "sorry, pal, but ya really ain't my type, so how 'bout we cut the fantasizin'--"

in a blink the man before him was gone, widened eyes left to stare at where he had once been. there's a tingle at the back of his neck, hairs rising in alarm. a leg sweeps back, an attempt to step back from his spot as head turns -- an abrupt swivel to follow a newfound sensation.

"where did you -- !?"

not like he has much space to turn, not fully. his back knocking against something ( someone ) solid, registering the open arms a second later.

-- go.

❛ Ah? ❜ Lavender-pink eyes blink innocently back before a faint flush graces Cecil's cheeks. Suddenly, he's shy—like a schoolboy being confessed to for the first time. He pauses advancing towards Raven to stand in place, one hand resting over his pounding heart.

❛ Are you interested in me in that way? ❜ Just in case, he thought he'd ask.

❛ Business or romance, it doesn't matter. All I want is your body. ❜

Sadly, he doesn't know any places to take Raven out for dinner, much less own a single shop to his name. If this was home, things might've worked out a little differently. At least there he could afford to spoil others.

❛ Clothed, stripped, living, dead—I think you'd look good in any style. I don't need a name to appreciate you, and neither should you need mine. No? ❜

He thinks he's explained enough. It's time to move.

With a burst of mana, Cecil vanishes from sight and teleports directly behind the man, hands stretched out for a...back hug?

[mortememoria]

👕 Tug on my muse’s sleeve/shirt/skirt (for repede mayhaps......)

nonverbal rp starters.

👕 Tug on my muse’s sleeve

"aah--?" a pull sets him in a pause, mouth left agape, right before he could manage a single bite. hot dog is left suspended in the air, hovering just over the paper boat it was presented upon. a convenient, quick bite to grab from the stands along the boardwalk. seemed a perfect option to quiet the low rumbling settled in his gut.

but it seems he'll have to put it off a moment longer as his attention is pulled away from it with another, persisting tug. once raven's head turns to stare down at his sleeve, he's surprised to be met with a familiar muzzle and an ever piercing eye.

"repede? what's the matter, boy?"

having caught raven's full attention, the dog releases his hold. there's a stern 'woof!' in response, his eye seemingly locked in place with a rising tilt of his head.

raven can only blink, momentarily, before following the canine's stare to his food in hand. instinctively the archer raises his arms, as though to keep it further out of reach. "ooh, no! i've been waitin' for this! besides, it's got all the fixin's, i can't go given ya all that."

there's a second, or two, of silence between them. broken by another bark from repede. he just wasn't letting up, was he?

slowly, raven's brows knit together, arms lower as he gives his food a look over, then returns it to the dog now sitting expectantly before him. staring, waiting. he can feel the muscles in his face twitch, his expression losing its stern edge the longer he stares back. eventually, raven lets out a sigh, resigning to his fate -- but not before scouting around them.

"... yuri ain't with ya, is he?"

'bwoof!'

"i'll take that as a no."

'woof.'

"yer a real stickler, y'know that? fine, but don't say ol' raven never did anythin' for ya."

a moment later and the old man's back from the stand, another paper boat in hand that, once raven crouches to repede's level, is set on the ground for him. another hot dog, but missing the additives. a safer snack for a pooch.

"there -- one for you, one for me." fair deal by the looks of it, watching as the dog passed him silent stare before munching away. it brings a smile to the bowman's face, another defeated sigh escaping through his nose.

"i'm gettin' too soft hangin' around all o' ya."

with a soft shake of his head he's finally getting around to taking that bite he's been wanting.

[mortememoria]

👗 + 😚

nonverbal rp starters.

[ fix/straighten my muses clothes + kiss on the cheek ]

though his grasp was gentle, it held firm against a wandering hand. plucking skillful fingers away from a set of buttons that had come undone far lower than the archer could, currently, stomach.

a damn shame, that. who was he to want to deny occupation upon his lap, or a steady gaze to meet his own, desiring pair? breath so close against the skin, so willing, so loving.

despite its artificial existence, he could feel every quickened beat; could practically hear the low, rhythmic hum he tried so hard to muffle. he tried to keep hidden. it was the very reason he guided her hand away, and the cause for his soft, apologetic,

"not tonight, darlin'. much as i'd love to."

it wasn't the desired response, he knew. he's given plenty like it before, for similar reason mixed in with another. sometimes it was enough and it seemed, for now, like it would be again.

even if the tiefling held a glimmer of disappointment, he was thankful for the mercy of hearing no more than a click of a tongue and an addition of a 'next time'. he wants to agree, promise her a passionate night... but raven can only bring himself to smile sweetly, maybe even chuckle as he watches her fix up the dishevled manner in which his clothes remained.

"ya don't gotta trouble yourself with all that, not after i -- ?" words fall short with warmth against his cheek, soft lips against his skin. heat prickles beneath it, trickling to the surface in a faint, pink dusting.

"fiyero, darlin', have i told ya how sweet ya are, yet?"

[mortememoria]

Nonverbal RP Starters

I’m finding it difficult to find memes for nonverbal characters ( be they mute, or just not fond of talking ) so I thought I’d make a few!

Neutral

☝️ Tap my muse on the shoulder

👉 Point to something for my muse to see

🤙 Bump into my muse

😊 Sit down next to my muse

🤨 Sit down across from my muse

📓 Push/Slide [an object] across a table to my muse

✍️ Pass my muse a note

🙄 Roll their eyes at my muse

🚪 Tap on a table/door/wall/chair to get my muse’s attention without speaking

Aggressive

🐺 Growl at my muse

😬 Snarl/show teeth at my muse

😠 Death Glare at my muse

🙌 Push/Shove my muse

👊 Punch my muse

👖 Kick my muse in the shin

👠 Stomp on my muse’s foot

😵 Knee my muse in the gut

💀 Knee my muse in the groin

🔪 Point a weapon at my muse

🖕 Flip my muse the bird/a similar gesture

👔 Roughly pull my muse down by the collar

💢 Bang on a door/wall/table to get my muse’s attention- angrily

Angst

👩‍⚕️ Put pressure on my muse’s wound

🌡 Push my muse down to give them medical attention

🥣 Bring my muse soup/medicine when they are sick

🤢 Hold my muse’s hair back/Rub my muse’s back while they are sick/throwing up

👐 Hold my muse when they are badly wounded/dying

👁 Wake my muse up during a nightmare

🐱 Hold my muse after a nightmare

😭 Hold my muse when they are crying

😢Touch my muse’s shoulder while they are crying in secret

💧 Wipe away my muse’s tears

💥 Try to calm my muse during an overwhelming emotional moment

⛈ Find my muse after some kind of trauma

Soft

👕 Tug on my muse’s sleeve/shirt/skirt

🐈 Lean against my muse’s side

🤝 Hold my muse’s hand

🤗 Pull my muse into a hug

🐕 Rest their head on my muse’s shoulder/knee

🐶 Nuzzle my muse with their nose [specify a location]

✋ Touch the back of my muse’s hand

🤝 Reach for my muse’s hand to hold it

👗 Fix/Straighten my muse’s clothes

😴 Stand by the bed to see if my muse will let you under the covers with them

🛌 Crawl under the covers with my muse

🥪 Set a plate/tray/bowl of food down for my muse

😚 Kiss my muse on the cheek

Playful

🌸 Put a flower in my muse’s hair

✨ Playfully shove my muse’s shoulder

💃 Pull my muse onto a dance floor/up to dance

🤞 Come up beside them and tap the shoulder opposite where they’re standing

😈 Jump out of the shadows to scare/startle my muse

😛 Stick their tongue out at my muse

😱 Make a silly face at my muse

🤭 Tickle my muse

👃 Poke my muse’s nose

💪 Pick my muse up

Sensual/Sexual

💘 Pull my muse in for a rough kiss

💕 Pull my muse in for a tender kiss

💞 Pull my muse in for a messy/desperate kiss

💖 Lean in to give my muse a sweet/chaste kiss

❤️ Lean in to give my muse a tender kiss

🔥 Pull my muse down by the collar/by their clothes - in a sexy way

😉 Pull my muse in by the hips

😲 Smack my muse’s butt

💋 Kiss my muse’s neck

👌 Push my muse down and give them a massage

👙 Pull [an article of clothing] off my muse

👀 Push my muse down on the bed

👄 Pull my muse onto the bed

[mortememoria]

You thought you were long since past caring about shit like this-- what is shame to a dead man, after all?-- but, fuck's sake. It still hurts, somehow.

In your mind, you rush him-- sever his dominant hand at the wrist, puncture his armpit and lop his pretty head right off-- but the reality is you just wilt a little, and take the insult for what it is: the spittle of a bad owner, kicking at their dog for lack of a better target.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Go fuck yourself, Raven thinks. "No, sir," Schwann says. "My apologies, sir."

Alexei sighs. "A poor show, today. I expect better, tomorrow."

"Yes, sir," Schwann says, a swift fist to his blastia heart as he bows. "It shall be as you say."

[mortememoria]

"chosen, huh?" where sharp golds stare, a knowing set of turquoise looks back. in a way, the man was correct; raven acting as a blockade to allow another an easy escape, being cast into the spotlight in their place. an easy task, drawing attention -- playing the fool to cover for a bigger picture.

"i was simply on my merry way! ya just so happened ta be around the corner."

a smile adorns his features next, casual. as though unaware; aloof yet carefree. "but what's the rush! the night's still young, ya don't need to be so hasty, now."

@mortememoria

The Crimson Lane is the perfect area to find the perfect victim. It's a shame though that just when he thought he found someone, another person is in the way. Must have picked up the scent of trouble like some DOG.

"Mmm, I can only assume that the reason you're in my way is because you wish to be chosen instead." Otherwise, who would be foolish enough to test him?

[mortememoria]

"pretty grim stuff," an idle musing, words carried in a low sigh until lips are preoccupied with a cup of tea. over the edge of the mug eyes continue reading, a hooded gaze left to digest the remainder of an article. it had become quite a buzz along the streets, was hard for him to ignore.

the missing turning up deceased wasn't all that shocking, unfortunately, but the manner in which they were found was what had him morbidly intrigued. the writer certainly spared no detail, left a distinct image in the minds eye of what the crime scene no doubt looked like. he must have been making a face the further he read, why else would he suddenly be met with a gooey, little tendril swiping at the table; for his attention.

"wh -- hey, now. didn't i tell ya ta stay put in yer ball?" placing down his paper a hand swats away his ditto's attempt at a 'hand'. "i'm tryin'a finish readin' here!"

ah, and some people were trying to work here, too. wandering eyes, briefly, meet another set, prompting raven to wave a hand apologetically.

"sorry for the noise, pal. lil' guy's a bit of a handful, y'see."

@lethalitisms

[mortememoria]

"handy as ya are, yer really gonna get me into some serious trouble. ya can't go runnin' off like this -- stick to what we talked about!"

his reprimand is responded to with a nod, a matching set of turquoise locked with his own, a smile sitting beneath the pair of his reflections. raven can only manage a few seconds more before giving a wave of his hand; as if shooing away his doppelganger.

"now, hurry and change back before someone--"

' di-tto! '

"whaddaya mean too late?"

as its master's head turned, the raven double cast its gaze over the mans shoulder. just in time to offer a grin to their newly gained witness before shrinking down to its distinct, blob-y silhouette. with a wriggle, raven's ditto offers another repeat of its name; its own version of a 'hello'. at least that's how the former-archer is interpreting it.

"oh, it's just yuri." a pause, gaze shifting to the briefcase the other carried at his side. style of dress was far from what he was used to seeing the boy in, too. "y'know ya can't go sneakin' up on an old man like that! gettin' spooked this late in my years could end up catastrophic."

' ditto. '

@darkenforcer

[mortememoria]

The Raven Brigade loves Raven!!!!

[mortememoria]

now with a little info post out for him, how about an event starter ad? we'll give this a cap of 2 for now!