Eugene Mundy ♨

“You think I can’t kill you with a knife? I can. I’m probably going to have to.” [from Markiplier RE sentence starters]

@killersolo

"--STOP!" * Came a voice from the opposite side of the room, and when he looked, Sniper unfortunately found a woman dressed in all Blu's colors, armed only with what appeared to be a saucepan... She unclenched just long enough to peer up from the corner, an intrusive ( but now very DEAD ) body, still slumped on the floor before her hiding place.*

"-- I'm on your side!" * She pleaded, breathlessly, gore unfortunately now caking the left side of her face.* "-- I just took a wrong turn before the alarm went off, I swear!....I-I-I'm not supposed to be anywhere near the field!"

* And, rather than fighting back, she raised her unoccupied hand--palm up--as though she very much hoped he'd help her up.*

" ... Please!" * She further bargained, to such an end:* "--If I had a 'cloaking'-image on me, it would flicker if you touched me, wouldn't it??..."

@killersolo

" --I'm not upset with her." * She reassured him, as they went, looking genuinely less stressed by the end of their conversation--as though letting it out was a boon of sorts.* "...If this is what this place is usually like, I can only imagine all the 'support' it must take, to make it happen."

* From there though, although the stranger still seemed fairly annoyed, something in him seemed to 'click' at least...There was, afterall, no easy way out of this until either side won-- so they couldn't very well talk all day long. Thus, she did take his hand, pausing only briefly to reclaim her pan--wipe its surface clean; and then slip it into the largest pocket she had. *

" ...O-Oh?--No sir." * The brunette corrected him, all the same, when he strayed to the closest window. He could see her reflection remain still, besides a slight grimace, when she tipped her attention back to the body underfoot.* "--And even if I was, I sure as hell would suck it up, until he was off-duty."

"... The mess was all this one....He backed up, to sneak away from someone in the hall, and I clocked him--so he wouldn't see me."

* Her likeness ever so gently rustled one of the the Red's shoulders (with her foot), allowing just a few more rivulets to leak out of the scalp above .*

"... I'm not even sure he's all-the-way dead," * She further pointed out.* "-- but concussions can last for hours, so that's one less person to 'duel', I suppose."

#tw death #but not really because respawn #just a temporary miraculous escape i suppose #alexandria #lets-tmnt-topside #rp

A small chuckle came from him, “It’s almost impossible to ever be upset with that lass.” he commented, from his own experience. Sure, Miss Pauling made mistakes sometimes, but if you thought about the fact that she’s one person doing the job of five people simultaneously, and the fact that she’s only gotten 1 day off a year, you wouldn’t blame her for messing up once in a while.

“That’s good then, we should at least get you somewhere different. ‘fore somethin’ wrong happens, eh?” he smirked, just slightly.

“Oh well...” he paused, and took out his cleaner’s carbine that was holstered on his belt, to the left side of his lower back. And he shot the man dressed in Red as if it were nothing. He knew he’d respawn anyway, might as well save him the trouble, the pain, and the unnecessary suffering. Eugene was a professional mercenary, not a sadist.

“Sorry ‘bout that. He’ll be fine, don’t worry your pretty little head about it too much, aight?” he disregarded his action as if it was nothing. Because it was nothing, it meant nothing to him. He’d spent quite some time blowing people’s head off day after day, another one added to the counter wasn’t much anymore. He’d grown cold towards it.

As he placed his carbine back into its holster and walked off in the direction of one of BLU’s spawnroom, and looked to see if she was following him. “So, how should we even refer to you? Not by name ‘course but your...class I s’pose...?” he then asked. Might as well try to get to know her better, he figured.

killersolo

If he’d ask further, he’d probably make him feel uncomfortable. He didn’t want to be pushy, he hated it whenever he accidentally became pushy towards other people. He wanted to ask if Marius was still feeling comfortable in joining him in coming back to his house. But he didn’t. Instead, he waited for a response from him. As a sort of check in, to see that, despite him being unwell, he was comfortable enough to go on.

Oh hell, he did notice. Neptune has forsaken him. Bottling it up, as he put it, was the best solution right now because the mer refused to confess anything to him. There was just no way that he could tell him how he felt without ruining their friendship. Then again, staying as a friend and nothing more also hurt, but so did parting ways because of their differences. He wished he was a hermit crab so he could hide in his shell until it didn’t hurt anymore. His idea that he had before was thrown out the window. It was no longer an option.

And yet, he still clung to his hand. Maybe it was just the fear of being alone that caused him to hold on. Maybe it was the comforting tone that Eugene spoke in. Maybe he was so touch starved that he’s afraid he’ll never feel something like that again, so he should never let go. Gods, why was this so hard? This shouldn’t be happening! They were just friends, right? Right? Then why was he crying over something so trivial? Nothing happened between them!

Marius kept his head bowed as his face contorted in more emotional turmoil, even bringing his hand up to his face and wiping at his eyes with the base of his palm; he sniffled softly. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could hear his father’s condescending tone, making an unkind remark regarding his crying. He was aware of how ridiculous he looked, how weak he felt, but he couldn’t help it. His heart is too big for his own good.

Shame burned its way onto his tear-stained cheeks. He felt so stupid now. The idea of his eyes ever meeting Eugene’s now and after this gave him anxiety. Strong enough to put the notion of running away in his mind, just something to consider as a means of escape. Something’s gotta change, he couldn’t let this happen again. This was humiliating.

#//anything to make the mer feel better #// (っ´ω`)ﾉ(╥ω╥)#marius #merkissescanhealyou #rp

A small panic ensued inside Eugene as Marius didn’t seem to brighten up at all. His other hand reached over to Marius’ face, gently cupping it. His thumb brushed over his cheek. “It’s okay” he hushed. He wasn’t certain if this really was the right thing to do.

He could stay quiet and let Marius have his moment, but that would feel awkward wouldn’t it? He could tell Marius to quit it and just suck it up but that’s just plain insensitive. His uncertainty made him feel a little bit awkward

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Eugene eventually decided to ask, to prevent himself from accidentally making a wrong move. The last thing he’d wanted to do was to hurt Marius even further. Asking was always good, he figured. A distressed person themselves would know better what would feel good or right in the moment than a bystander attempting to comfort them.

“Cheer you up or somethin’?” he suggested, tilting his head slightly to take a better look at Marius. Again, he wasn’t sure what exactly he could do that would cheer the other up. Perhaps they could go for a swim. Or lay down again and take a nap. Maybe Marius didn’t want to go to his house at all.

“Anything, really... I’d hate to see you like this, mate.”

“You think I can’t kill you with a knife? I can. I’m probably going to have to.” [from Markiplier RE sentence starters]

@killersolo

* And, rather than fighting back, she raised her unoccupied hand--palm up--as though she very much hoped he'd help her up.*

" ... Please!" * She further bargained, to such an end:* "--If I had a 'cloaking'-image on me, it would flicker if you touched me, wouldn't it??..."

@killersolo

* She nodded when he echoed her earlier admission, but between his suddenly close proximity and the piteous glare he fixed her with , thereafter-- her relaxed state wound down to nothingness again. Thus she sagged back into the wall, and looked away, seeming even more ashamed of herself than she had before...Afterall, he must have had better things to do, than tutor some fresh klutz.*

* That being said, while the slight 'tweak' to the company-issued gear might have been a little too different to fit his approval, apparently it wasn't the only thing that rang a tad too 'new'-- once he had a closer eye on her. The brunette had several rings in her ears, a metal bangle on her wrist, and even a heart-shaped necklace...Dangling a small container. Save the Scouts, none of the other mercs wore jewelry, either. At the least it would be wrecked with a hard days' work, and at the worst, someone could just use it to pull you closer. But a civilian wouldn't think those things over, now would they?...*

* Be all that as it may ( and literally AND figuratively having no such place to 'run' ) , the brunette again began to explain--as unlucky as it all this turned out to be: *

"...Miss Pauling picked me up, this afternoon, and helped me around." * She thus lulled, apparently having a scolded tone of voice, to match the embarrassed look on her face.* "--All my stuff's still on the back of a truck, in the garage."

"--But, halfway through things, she left to take a call, and I needed something to keep me busy...So I opted to take inventory--Y-You know, so I know what to make ?..."

"...And there just wasn't enough of--of anything, yet alone for a whole army. "

* She shook her head, some of the guilt washing out of her body language, just long enough to pass judgement on their collective resources...Or lack thereof.*

" --And let me tell you," * She briefly sassed, likewise: "--There's nothing in that kitchen but beer, a single sandwich, and stale cereal--none of which is going to make squat...So, I had to do something."

* And yet suddenly, there came the guilt again. Because she just HAD to take initiative. The woman set the pan aside at last , and pinched the bridge of her nose, cringing at her epic lack of forethought.*

".....Buuuutttt," * She sighed thereafter, side-stepping the sharp stinging of her conscience.* "--That's how I screwed up...I stepped out to find where the hell the dry-stock was, and God only KNOWS why they wouldn't put it near the fucking kitchen, and then BOOM: All hell breaks loose."

"... I'd hoped she'd at least give me a chance to finish reading the damned handbook, first...I don't even know where the closest bathroom is yet. " V_V;;;;;

#Alexandria #lets-tmnt-topside #rp

Listening intensely to what the lass had to say, Eugene still kept his eyes on her, not wanting to give her any chance of escaping or getting away, just in case. Although he didn’t really want to admit it, she was quite right about the state of the food at the base. That’s kinda what happens when you leave 8, or 9, men who either can’t cook or have too specific taste in order to be able to cook for others in charge of the kitchen. Sure, Eugene could cook just fine, but trying to get the others, especially Spy, to eat any form of roadkill was a bigger challenge than hiking up a hill with a huge hangover.

“Right...” he mumbled, still in doubt whether he could trust her or not. At least she knew Miss Pauling by name, and described something that sounded almost exactly like the small lady dressed in purple. “She tends to do that quite often. You get used to it after a while...” he grunted and shrugged his shoulders. Miss Pauling was a busy person, and that’s putting it lightly. She tried her best to get everything done for the Administrator and the mercs and he appreciated that. Shame it left him sorta stuck with this rookie though.

Standing up again, he was still looking at the new recruit, not saying a word. He was thinking about what his best course of action would be in this scenario. He’d never have to introduce or meet a newbie like this. Although he’d been the newbie himself once, he didn’t get such an informal introduction to the team as she seemed to be getting. His jaw worked, and he bit the inside of his mouth softly. “Get up.” he maffled to her, holding out his hand if she needed to support on something to get up off the ground.

“Yer in need of medical assistance aren’t ya?” he presumed, now looking around the battlefield to see if he could spot their team’s medic somewhere. No luck. Still, bringing her to the respawn room would be a lot better than to let her lay here on the ground, slumped against the wall.

neon-wonderlands

#musing

pi-slices

Intergalactic - 210331

#musing

“You think I can’t kill you with a knife? I can. I’m probably going to have to.” [from Markiplier RE sentence starters]

@killersolo

* And, rather than fighting back, she raised her unoccupied hand--palm up--as though she very much hoped he'd help her up.*

" ... Please!" * She further bargained, to such an end:* "--If I had a 'cloaking'-image on me, it would flicker if you touched me, wouldn't it??..."

@killersolo

"--A-Ahh..." * She clenched her eyes shut when confronted with the razor-sharp tooth of the weapon, but remained as still as possible, if not to avoid triggering a 'nerve' of his --than to avoid the slightest scratch...Thus, her skin thankfully remained solid, though understandably flushed with panic--even after the stranger started mumbling to himself.*

"--No sir." * She aggreed, when then pushed into a nest of more direct questions. But this time, of course, the girls' expression looked considerably more ashamed than afraid...Especially since she had little more on her, than that dinky-ass pan to defend herself.* "--I'm just a cook."

" ...I was contracted through the ladies upstairs...Apparently between a couple failed medical exams, and a bad run of food-poisonings, they thought a caterer might take some of the 'guesswork' out of it. "

* She gradually slumped back into the wall, and ( likely confident in the notion he wouldn't harm her ) began to tug at her uniform, to clean the gore off her face. Apparently, rather than the typical cut of kevlar and fire-proof items, she had black chaps on under a baby-blue smock. It already had several tools pushed through the various notches and pockets : A wooden spoon, measuring cups, and even a pairing knife...But besides all that, the most obvious change was the image on her chest: big block letters that spelled out the word "STAFF", in yellow.*

* The brunette grunted with disgust, steadily blotting the mess on the side of the trailing garment ( perhaps to render the tools yet sanitary to use ), but by the time she'd sat up again --there was a further element to identify her: A symbol ( in this case, a spatula, stamped just off her shoulder ).*

#alexandria #lets-tmnt-topside #rp

“A cook?” he repeated, although he wasn’t really against the idea. None of the mercenaries on his team were really cut out for cooking anyway. It was bearable, but not enjoyable. “ ‘s about time we got a bloody cook ‘round here.” he joked, and huffed.

Kneeling down to take a closer look at the Sheila, Eugene took notice of all the tools that she had hanging around her, and what her outfit consisted of. The blue colours and the class icon on her shoulder were good signs to him. The only that stood out to him was the bold yellowed STAFF that marked her chest. None of his teammates ever had STAFF imprinted on her clothing, neither did the purple ladies, or even the CEO himself. If he ever were to wear clothes, that is.

It stood out as a red flag to him, and he squinted his eyes at her, giving her a fierce glare. He wanted her to know he still didn’t trust her. He could hurt her if he wanted to, and he wanted her to know to not get too comfortable now. At the same time, he didn’t want to let his guard down. Even if he had a knife on him, she had more tools available to her. Maybe not your ordinary warzone kind of weapons, but tools that could hurt someone if the attacker really wanted to.

“So how’d you get yerself in this situation, then? Battlefield’s not really a place for a cook like yerself, huh?”

“You think I can’t kill you with a knife? I can. I’m probably going to have to.” [from Markiplier RE sentence starters]

@killersolo

* And, rather than fighting back, she raised her unoccupied hand--palm up--as though she very much hoped he'd help her up.*

" ... Please!" * She further bargained, to such an end:* "--If I had a 'cloaking'-image on me, it would flicker if you touched me, wouldn't it??..."

#i hope this is alright! (´∀`)b #Alexandria #lets-tmnt-topside #rp

Lowering his glasses slightly, Eugene could indeed see she was dressed in all of Blu’s colours, but he still didn’t trust the situation. She didn’t look familiar to him and he’d been around long enough to know that anyone could dress up in blue colours and claim whatever they want.

Slowly approaching her, with his knife still pointing at her, his eyes darted all over the room to asses the situation better. Dead bodies weren’t too much of an odd sight for him, but a saucepan? On the battlefield? Eugene couldn’t help but smirk a little and mutter the words ’That’s bloody weird...’ to himself.

With his kukri he touched her face slightly...No cloak glimmers. “Good.” he muttered again, and put his knife away.

“So you’re not a spy...and you’re quite clearly not a mercenary. I mean saucepan as a weapon, really?” he couldn’t help but chuckle a little. The sheer thought of using a pan as a weapon in the midst of a warzone.

“What is it that you’re doing here?” he questioned her, his tone being more serious now.

killersolo

As he started to walk back to where they came from, he looked behind him, eyebrows raised a little, and purposefully made eye contact with Marius. “You alright?” he then asked, softly.

There it was. The question he was dreading, hoping he wouldn’t hear it. Gene did notice his change and he cursed himself for being so open about it, though he never spoke of it. He was very readable, which was something he always forgot. What could he say now? The question alone brought tears to his eyes. Something about being asked if one was mentally well and the obvious answer was “no,” it triggered tears and an onslaught of emotions that were desperately shoved in a box. Many people shared this same response, and yet, for the life of him, he couldn’t explain why.

He dared to look up at his friend and immediately regretted his decision. Eugene was staring at him right in the eye, which made the soft-spoken mer instantaneously avert his own gaze back down the earth that they walked upon. His nose threatened him to sniffle, lest he had it run down his philtrum. But if he sniffled, he’d give himself away. One hand grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged on it, while the other held on to the latter’s hand. Marius’s head bobbed gently in a nodded. “Y-Yes. I’m fine.”

His throat was beginning to tighten and make him choke on his words. The emotion could be detected in his volume, tone, and body language, another thing he failed to remember. He was too busy getting caught up in his thoughts and the what-ifs. The most distressing one was the possibility of ever falling in love with him and wanting to start a family. It just wouldn’t work. He didn’t know which was worse, crushing his feelings to prevent any sort of further attachment to him, or letting it happen and get to the point where he’d have to walk away because of their differing opinions and wishes. Both options were just too painful. It did nothing to curb his warring conscience.

#//AWEEEE MARIUS #//POOR BABY #marius #merkissescanhealyou #rp

The tears caught Eugene by surprise, he had expected Marius to reply with a no, or to disregard his question wholly. But tears? He hadn’t anticipated such a simple question would result in tears. He was taken aback by it, he hadn’t meant for Marius to cry, he just wanted him to be alright.

Marius hadn’t let go of his hands. Neither had Eugene. He wasn’t planning to anytime soon, especially not when his friend, now more obviously than before, was not doing alright, despite what he had said. Instead of letting go, Eugene brushed his thumb back and forth, very carefully over Marius’ hand.

“Clearly you’re not fine.” he answered, realizing it probably came off wrong. “I mean, yeah you’re fine but... You’re not okay.” he stumbled a little over his words and shrugged. “There’s nothing wrong with not bein’ okay. It’s alright if you don’t wanna tell me, you don’t have to. Just don’t bottle it all up. Nothing good comes from that.” As he tried his best to comfort his friend, Eugene was thoroughly aware that he was being a hypocrite. It didn’t bother him. What bothered him was seeing Marius unwell. Except he didn’t really know what else to say to him. He clearly wasn’t feeling good, despite what he’d told Eugene.

killersolo

“Far? I dunno…” Eugene shrugged, “Couldn’t be longer than a bit of a walk, really.” In his head, Eugene tried figuring out the route back to his house. He managed to go from his house to the beach, and from the beach to this secluded area. Going back home meant just taking the same directions, just backwards, which couldn’t be that hard, right?

“I’m not sure where to go from here exactly, but if we go back to the beach first I’ll know my way back. Shouldn’t be longer than 12 minutes from there.” he gestured vaguely in the air. Eugene liked that he lived closer to the beach, he did pick his house with the intention of being close to the beach after all. He always favoured living close to a body of water, and if he couldn’t find a home with one nearby, he’d opt for the countryside, although that did get rather lonely and isolating at times.

Eugene placed his glasses back on his face. “Territorial humans…?” he repeated, confused what Marius meant. Humans weren’t really territorial in the same aspect that wild animals were. At least, the average human was. “No I don’t…think so.” he muttered, uncertain of what to answer. His neighbours we’re all quite friendly, and he’d say he’d have good relationships with all of them. Except one maybe. But just one isn’t so bad. “Never had any danger in the neighbourhood. Just some kids bein’ little brats but that ain’t a real threat.”

Already preparing himself to leave, Eugene stood up and wiped the sand off of his pants and arse. “Do you wanna lay here for ‘nother moment or do you wanna go?” he asked, holding out a hand to Marius to pull him up if needed.

Marius didn’t have a good perception on how humans kept track of time. Everything was either “in a moment,” at sundown/rise, midnight, or noon, which could be determined with the position of the sun/moon. Whatever fell in between was a grey area. Twelve minutes, however, wasn’t too long, and could easily be spent by chatting some more and asking questions. It wouldn’t be unbearable, especially since he was with Eugene. Coming out of his blue, that’s another story.

But his eyes were so kind and bright, surely he wouldn’t let something like a disagreement get in the way, right? It’d be silly. Still, he couldn’t deny that he felt hurt by his reaction. That might be kept a secret, though, and hoped that it wasn’t noticed. He didn’t want to talk about it. Gene was already standing when the mer flipped back over, propping himself up on his elbows. His aquamarine pools flicked up at his eyes, and to his outstretched hand. If he was ready to go, then there wasn’t any point of delaying any longer.

With slow hesitation, he took his hand and hoisted himself up from the ground. Sand stuck to his exposed flesh and he did exactly what Gene did, which was wipe it off with his hands. He was used to that, though. Before they took a step in the opposite direction, he grabbed his bag of cotton candy. “I’m fine,” he said, declining his offer to stay a little more. “Lead the way, I’ll follow.”

#*sprinkles in the autism* its like a reward #marius #merkissescanhealyou #rp

Holding Marius’ hand was something Eugene enjoyed, although he wouldn’t be quick to admit it. Unlike other times, he didn’t mind coming into contact with Marius. Eugene had often times flinched or winced when other people touched him. Not Marius though, and he’d go about his way to feel the mer’s hand at every opportunity possible. Sticking out his hand to pull Marius up was one of those. And as he did, he gave the mer a soft little smile.

Still, Eugene couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was wrong. Something was off. With Marius. He may not have known the mer for that long but he could definitely tell something was different.

Sometimes Eugene prided himself in being a man of details, noticing things others didn’t see, recognizing patterns others didn’t perceive. The same applied to how Eugene saw people and their patterns. The terrible downside of noticing those small changes in others was that he didn’t understand what they meant. He had great difficulty knowing how others felt or what they thought if they hadn’t told him or if it wasn’t outright obvious. Marius, to him, was not being obvious. Maybe it was for the better. Maybe it wasn’t.

He wanted to ask the mer if he felt okay. You alright? he wanted to ask, but he fortunately had been on this earth long enough to know that people didn’t always wanted to express or expose their feelings to others. Lord knows Eugene’s experienced that before himself, plenty of times even. He was a bit conflicted on what to do. Still, he decided to ask anyway. If Marius wanted to mention it he would, and if he didn’t, he didn’t, Eugene concluded in his head.

As he started to walk back to where they came from, he looked behind him, eyebrows raised a little, and purposefully made eye contact with Marius. “You alright?” he then asked, softly.

jennystahl

— OC QUESTIONS

BASICS

What’s their full name?

What does their name mean? Why were they named that?

Do they have any nicknames?

How old are they?

When’s their birthday?

What’s their zodiac sign/element/birthstone/etc.? Do they believe that holds any significance?

What’s their species/subspecies? Do they have any special/magical abilities?

What “class” do they belong to (for fantasy characters)? If none, what weapon do they favor?

APPEARANCE

What do they look like?

Do they have a face claim?

What’s their style like? Clothes, hair, makeup?

How do they carry themselves? What’s their default expression?

Do they have any physical ailments or disabilities?

PERSONALITY

What’s their alignment?

Which one of the 16 Personality Types do they fit into?

What are their hobbies and interests? Do they have any particular “favorites” (food, books, and so on)?

What are they bad at?

What kind of things do they dislike/hate?

Do they have any vices/addictions/mental illnesses?

What are their goals and motivations?

What are their manners like? Any habits?

What are they most afraid of?

BACKGROUND

Where were they born? What was their childhood like?

What’s their family like?

What factions or organizations are they a part of? What ranks and titles do they hold?

How do they fit into their “story”?

Where do they currently live? What’s their place like?

How do they eventually die?

RELATIONSHIPS

Do they have any friends? Would they consider anyone to be their best friend?

What’s their friend group like? What role do they play in it?

What’s their love life like? (See also: ship question meme.) Do they have any kids?

Who do they look up to? Who do they trust?

Who do they hate? Do they have any enemies?

Do they have any pets?

Are they good with kids? Animals?

FUN FACTS

Which tropes do they fit? Which archetypes?

Do they play any instruments? Sports?

What are some items they always carry?

Do they collect anything?

What position do they sleep in?

Which emoji would they use the most?

What languages do they speak?

What’s their favorite expletive?

What’s their favorite candle scent?

What songs remind you of them?

Which animal would you say represents them?

What stereotypical high school clique would they fit into?

What would their favorite ride at an amusement park be?

Do they believe in aliens? Ghosts? Reincarnation or something else?

Do they follow any religions/gods? Do they celebrate holidays?

Which Deadly Sin do they most correspond to? Which Heavenly Virtue?

If you had to choose one tarot card to represent them, which would it be?

#maimais #lol

Open Starter

Eugene slumped towards the coffee machine, barely having enough energy to set himself a cup of coffee. Last night seemed to be yet another one added to the seemingly endless string of sleepless nights. It was awful getting up in the mornin' after such a restless night, but he found that a cup of coffee often helped. His eyes were barely open and he felt he was about to nod off at any second, but he kept refusing. Eugene knew the rest would do him well but he wouldn't allow himself to doze off. He was too worried about slipping away into another hellish nightmare. Staying up all night and having not enough energy to function throughout day was a preferable alternative than having to relive those awful moments over and over again.

"So anyway, how was your night?" he asked, his voice sounding groggy

disasterpolysexualdoctor

Mia turned with a jump and blinked at the man. She honestly hadn’t even seen him! Here she was just grabbing the tiger testicles from the the fridge, and now she’s being spoke to, someone’s asked her a question! How exciting!

Lifting her mouth into a smile one side at a time, the Indian woman bared her teeth at him in a unsettling display of badly expressed human emotion. “Ah! My night was excellent!” She practically cheered, her voice was a little louder than average and held more excitement and glee than strictly necessary.

A long yawn escaped from the man as he waited for the coffee machine to finish its business. "That's nice..." he mumbled, barely even registering Mia's answer. A couple of his fingers traced his Y-shaped scar, hovering over it up and down.

When the coffee machine finally finished, Eugene inhaled the scent of coffee sharply. He took a sip from the cup and leaned against the cold kitchen counter, still tracing over his scars. "Tell me doc, d'ya ever do somethin' and think you're goin' to regret it for the rest of your life? Or do you just go and never look back?"

disasterpolysexualdoctor

“Oh. Um.” Immediately Mia thought back to the Diploma she kept hidden hanging on her bedroom wall. Her degree in theater arts. She could feel a sweat drop running down her spine. “I have a feeling my answer will have no effect on what you say next. So. Um. What might be troubling you?” Keeping her smile like a pro, she put the testicles back in the fridge and took out her notepad and pen. Ready to due her part as Blu team doctor. Listen to others problems.

Eugene’s eyes followed Mia’s hands as she picked up the notepad and pen. He rolled his eyes. “Look doc, this ain’t somethin’ medical alright?” he snarked a little. His disposition wasn’t always the best in the morning, and it showed. “Just some...weird dreams. Never really bothered me like this before and I dunno what to make of it.” Eugene carried on as his free hand stopped lingering over his torso and placed it on the counter, leaning on his arm instead. “Just figured I could ask someone like you about...” he mumbled and shrugged a little.

disasterpolysexualdoctor

Disregarding his snark, Mia took notes on what he was saying.

Or at least it seemed like that’s what her notes where about, she had a bad case if doctor’s handwriting and it looked more like scribbles than writing.

“Well I could prescribe you with some sleeping pills, there a certain blend I’ve had patients tell me give them dream-less sleep. If this situation is bothering so much, it might disrupt your work on the field, so it is best I help rid you of these dreams.” Flipping to a black page she wrote down a slightly more readable time and date.

“Meet me this Wednesday at 7:30pm. I’ll have your medication ready by then, but foremost there’s a few tests I’d like to run.”

Tearing the page out, Mia handed him the paper before going back into the fridge to get the testies.

#mia #disasterpolysexualdoctor #rp

Not saying another word, he instead rolled his eyes at her, and let out a long, heavy sigh. His head fell backwards, letting it relax as he looked at the roof. Closing his eyes, Eugene seemed mildly agitated.

He let out another, smaller sigh before he turned his attention back to his coffee, downing the rest of it all in one go. It had cooled down enough for him to do that. When he finished, he slammed the cup on the counter. He hadn’t intended to slam it.

“I don’t want your pills.” he muttered, trying his best to stay calm. He wasn’t a morning person, he never was, and never made an effort to be. “I’m not looking for a solution, doc. I just wanna understand. What it means.” he stayed quiet for a while. “I don’t think I need your pills. Therapist would prolly be better...” he muttered and wandered off, back to his room. Despite what he had said, he made sure he’d still be there on Wednesday.

pitbulls-and-tattoos

#chloe #musing #scheduled

headshot

#chloe #Musing

killersolo

“Perhaps i’d better show you what it looks like…” and then, it was as if a small lightbulb next to Eugene’s head suddenly turned on. “I could show you my house…if you like?” he proposed, in a much quieter voice.

The mer’s heart ached from the sting of the cut that was likely unintentional, he chose to remain silent and only offered little hums and nods in response. He knew it was….silly, that he should be living his life to the fullest because having a family would just tie him down, but he already lived like that. He was tired of traveling all over for a place to live, he was tired of being alone. A family was so enticing and endearing that he truly felt it would heal his broken heart. To have it rejected and even scorned upon was worse than getting outwardly laughed at. In a nutshell, he was probably overreacting and overthinking. But in all fairness, he didn’t even consider that he was because issues such as that were barely talked about among his species. He was in his own world now.

Eugene gave his explanation on the concept of owning a home in human society, but Marius wouldn’t admit that he had drowned him out with the sound of his own thoughts swirling in his head. He felt stuck. And of course, he wasn’t doing this to be mean or rude. Pulling him out of such a state could prove to be difficult, especially since he wasn’t aware that it’s a separate place from reality. Whether his friend had caught on, he couldn’t say, and he didn’t want to know, either. It was embarrassing enough.

However, he caught the tail end of their conversation, which was an offer to show him what a “house” really looked like. Sure, that sounded interesting, and his curiosity was everlasting, but he paused before he responded with his answer, completely oblivious to a plan that was brewing. Could he really trust that’s where Eugene was going to take him? Was it far? The mer finally twisted his body to face him, brows furrowed slightly from the leftover disappointment that hopefully translated as concern. “Is it far? Is it….dangerous? Should I prepare myself for any aggressive and territorial humans that we might come across?”