what the fuck is up with this planet man I didn't get siren-called or spawned plant babies or WAS UNABLE TO WASH OFF BODY PAINT BACK HOME
[ Honestly, she's more upset at falling for it. Ever since the horny pollen, it's all been downhill.
She sends her specific coordinates to him since 'the beach' is super fucking vague and she knows it. He'll likely see her before she does him; when she turns to look at him, there's an animalistic glint to her eyes. Beneath her hid with a soft glow backlighting her skin, it looks a lot more ominous than she realizes.
But when she next blinks, it's gone. She's wearing a long-sleeved hoodie (hood up) and jean pants but there's still a subtle, unmistakable neon light beneath the cloth of her clothes. She seems a lot more calm than her frantic texts would suggest. ]
[For the brief moment he sees her eyes, it reminds him of how sometimes the lamp will glint off of Loog's gaze. It makes him hesitate for a second. Did he just imagine that?
Well. Either way, he's not that worried. Rosie is a friend, after all. So, he approaches her and offers a smile before he holds out his bottle of water.]
Hey, Rosie.
Here. I'll put down the blanket, and we can figure out how you want me to help, all right?
[ Don't worry, Ashe. Humans are friends, not food, in Rose's book. She wouldn't dare dream of harming anyone here. Well- Not of her own volition, of course. The woman worries what might happen with Malachite but doesn't like to dwell on it for long.
The woman pulls down her hood as she gives a sigh and tired smile. Her cheeks are literally glowing pink with squiggle designs and a firetruck red heart just below her right eye. She had fun, clearly, but the dichotomy of the fun artistic expression and current levels of stress is awkward. ]
Yeah, I- I know it's a lot to ask. I got a tip or two though to make it as, like, the least embarrassing for both of us as possible?
July Event ★ did someone order a rambunctious youth
[It's a warm July afternoon in the Emerald District Farmer's Market, and a gangly boy of about seven or eight has been staring at a basket of peaches near a family-owned fruit stall for a considerable length of time now.
He's dressed a little oddly for the Sumarlok aesthetic, to say nothing of the weather — he's got on a high-collared tunic with a wide belt cinching the middle, along with plain trousers and pirate-style boots with the tops folded over. The sleeves of the tunic are a touch too long, likely because whoever made it anticipated that boys of his age sprout up like weeds and had the foresight to leave a little extra to grow into. His hair, though kept trimmed, is about as unkempt as one might expect of a rambunctious lad, though he seems to be making a herculean effort to stay on his best behavior at the moment.
It's only natural that, after a while, his attentions would be noticed; it's a young woman and her elderly grandfather who are manning the stall, and the girl who eventually approaches him with a kindly look, making him gulp and draw his shoulders up into proper posture once he realizes he's been spotted.
A brief conversation ensues, the content of which is mostly lost amid the hustle and bustle of the market, but there are still hints and indications of what might be going on. The girl motions to the stall; the boy emphatically shakes his head. Something else is said; he pushes his hands deep into his pockets and glances away. A little more discussion is exchanged; finally, the girl points around to the back of the stall, saying something that seems to make the boy brighten. His spirits suddenly lifted, he darts around behind the shopfront; when he returns a minute later, he's struggling but succeeding at carrying a crate of produce around to the shopfront, where he quickly drops to his knees in front of a mostly-empty bushel basket of corn and starts unloading the box into it.
When his labor eventually completes, the nature of the little exchange becomes much more apparent: smiling, the girl offers him a pair of peaches, which he takes enthusiastically before waving and running off —
And, quite possibly, smacking facefirst into Ashe from not looking where he was going. Oops.]
[Truthfully, Ashe had been watching a bit from the exchange, mostly because it pangs a little close to home. But then, seeing a lot of people he'd known once now as a child makes him empathize very easily; he was once the lost child with nowhere to go. How could he not?
This boy doesn't immediately smack of someone he recognizes. Instead, it's just a rowdy boy who doesn't really look where he's going until it's too late, crashing into someone after his earnings.]
[He stumbles back a few steps, ricocheting off Ashe's greater mass like a ball off a wall for what may be the first and only time in his entire existence, and fumbles one of his hard-earned peaches, which thumps onto the ground and rolls until it's near Ashe's foot. Meanwhile, the boy finally looks up, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his free hand.]
Sorry! I didn't see you.
[Something occurs to him suddenly, though, and he hurriedly turns his attention to the peach he's still holding, looking around urgently until he spots the other.]
[The paint earns a small smile from Ashe. They seem just like Rosie, put on for fun without much to consider for the art of it. But that's all right; it's charming in its own way, really. It'd be moreso if they weren't semi-permanent at the moment.
He lays the blanket down, then motions for her to sit.]
[Bruised or not, it doesn't seem as though it's about to stop the boy, who's already moving to retrieve his fruit and inspect it for damage. It's pretty badly dented on one side, but the skin didn't break, and he turns it over and over in his hands before eventually letting out a sigh of conclusion that comes accompanied by a fall of his shoulders and a firm shake of his head.]
Nope! Can't let you do that, mister. There's nothing wrong with it, see? It's still good.
[There's...clearly a whole side caved in, but okay.]
Hey, aren't you gonna say sorry too? You bumped into me as much as I bumped into you!
Aw, these are fine. They're for later, anyway, so —
[But he stops then, like maybe he's just said something he shouldn't, and caught himself. He scuffs the toe of his boot on the ground, thinking, then glances up suspiciously when Ashe offers up his empathy.]
...Just what kind of spot do you think I'm in, huh?
Yeah! You're wrong about all of it. [...] Most of it!
[He puffs up a little, squaring his shoulders and thrusting his chest out.]
I just wanted to help that lady, is all. My dad's the Baron Albrecht, so that's what I'm supposed to do. Nobles like me are supposed to stick up for the little guy, and be generous and helpful. ...And stuff.
He's the best. He's super strong and noble and smart and he could fight twenty-five monsters with his bare hands!
[Verdict's still out on the "smart" but you know what, let Balthus have his skewed perspective. A little absently, he picks at his dented peach, running his thumb over the flattened part.]
He's probably around here somewhere. We're supposed to stay together when we go out but I don't know where he went.
[His shoulders droop a little, while his expression grows flat and resigned.]
Well, it'll be okay. I'm tough too. I don't know where Gaspard Village is, is that in the mountains?
Wow. Twenty-five monsters! He sounds really powerful. I'm sure he's okay on his own until you two reunite. I'd be happy to stick with you until then.
[He chuckles softly.]
No, it's by a river, right along the border of the Empire. It's pretty far away from Goneril territory. It's a small place, but the people are generally happy.
[ The blond sits with a sigh and pulls her hair back and up. It reveals the length of her neck, which has more lines down them. Here's where they start to get a bit more creative; actual designs and characters start to form in the crook of her neck. ]
Someone said you could, like, lick my hands? And I could rub that on me but that- That sounds so weird now that I'm saying it out loud, jeez.
[ A pause, crinkling her nose. ]
I honestly don't think there's any way to make this not at least a little weird though, I'm sorry.
[The other designs are actually fascinating. In a way, maybe it lets him know her more, too. But he doesn't ask, just quietly admires them with a smile.
Well, at least until he suggestion. There, he lets out a little laugh behind a hand.]
"Weird" is kind of the way this place goes. That's not your fault. Besides, if that's what we have to do, then I'm ready to help you out.
Isn't that the truth, [ the woman can't help but agree with a light laugh. She is glad that she had texted Ashe; he has a way of keeping things level. Calm. It's a quality that she admires, in a way, because while she could seem to be cool and collected- Her actions definitely spoke otherwise. ]
Let me just- [ At that, she pulls off the hoodie she's wearing in one fell swoop. Underneath is just a loose, spaghetti strap tanktop that reveals even more paintings.
She'd really gone ham. There's a scaled dragon winding its way up one of her arms, a wolf howling across the expanse of her cleavage, and floral almost lacy pattern on her opposite arm. They're all in various neon colors. Music notes and more characters are dotted throughout the empty spaces. ]
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