Another question, another attempt at keeping up a conversation that he didn’t expect, but will welcome nonetheless. Maybe today would not be as unrewarding as he thought, which is splendid. For someone who seems to have all the time in the world (because he does,) he has always disliked the notion of wasting it.
He tilts his head to glance at the front desk once more, and only a sight of its emptiness greets his gaze. It’s a bit bizarre to see the surface not being guarded by a librarian, considering the large mass who drift to this place on a daily basis, whether out of curiosity or of scholastic passion. Samil sweeps his gaze around the vicinity and lets his brain circle through a list of faces he has bothered to keep remembering. Shifts in the soon-approaching afternoon are often occupied by a lady who often chastise him for reading whole textbooks without taking a break; her kindness is more of an annoyance than virtue. That woman also seems to never take a day off, much to his chagrin.
Though his formal statement testifying to his own self-proclaimed character and qualifications is something she finds rather deserving of strong condemnation and denunciation ( she'd been somewhat burdened by his presence to begin with, but his excessively vain mention has her now debating her leave in haste ), she comes to terms no sooner after he's spoke with the fact that she truly has no other alternative.
She finds her options scarce, inadequate and somewhat exasperating; she either seeks the advice and recommendations of this notable personage whom assures her he is quite familiar with the selection of titles around them or to attempt in preoccupying herself in order to stave her steadily growing boredom as she impatiently waits out the moratorium in the absence of those best equipped to assist her current needs.
In all honesty, she finds herself unwilling to comply with either option ( she is not sure which one would be more deplorable at the rate she's currently heading ), but she hasn't traveled over the borders simply to find herself heading back to COEUR. It is not difficult to make one's way into the opposing land when it is a more mild climate, but the journey here had been treacherous enough on it's own accord through the mountainous path. Even though she is not as inclined to be as sensitive to the bitterness, she feels turning back now will simply only be more of a hindrance with the storm raging over the horizon.
Melodeia lets out a soft sigh as the other graces her with a gentle smile, his gaze tearing away from her momentarily as he observes the shelves around them. Of course, she can see why he would appreciate such an acclaimed establishment. She had never dreamed of being able to indulge herself in so many commended novels in one place as reading materials were lacking in the depths of the ocean; knowledge was passed down through experience within the waves and often times in the form of tales that sometimes seemed a bit too far-fetched for her particular liking.
This place of great grandeur is something she is sure she will find most enjoyable once she's managed to collect the proper reading materials ( there are so many things to take note of, but she is unsure where to properly start if she cannot reach the shelving she’s focused on originally ) for the afternoon, but for right now she finds it difficult to admire such glorious confines.
The NEREID spares him another glance ( her somewhat stoic impression shifting into something more akin to curiosity, perhaps even border lining wonder ) as he suddenly comes to life at her mention for titles, depths similar to shallow waters lighting up as he begins to speak.
Without hesitation and any sort of timid nature she’d assumed previously ( his persona is that of rabbit-hearted and she’d assumed his mentions would of been similar in taste ), he begins with an eloquence that comes effortlessly and with a plethora of perception she had not been expecting. Moments after he has parted his lips and motions towards the nearby lists, orbs that mirror the ocean's floor suddenly grow wide. She listens without delay as he rattles off numerous things that might hold interest to her, head tilting to the side as she watches ( more intently than she had moments prior, she's actually interested now that he's managed to grasp her attention with his findings ) without restraint.
" I'm interested in anything that would describe the species overall, perhaps maybe as a whole if at all possible and specifically leading towards their behavior, " she mentions as he exclaims about wondrous beings whom have marked passage with tremendous achievements; she takes a few mental notes to indulge herself on other works ( she's particularly keen on finding ones about the QUEEN whom she's known longer than any human possibly could have; it’d be laughable to see what they’ve come up with during her benevolent reign ) when she has the time following this visit and is successfully done with her current goal of gaining more content on these creatures.
As he shuffles towards another shelf to direct her attention to some volumes closer to her height, she reaches out and trails her nimble fingers about the bindings. It is without doubt that they are in impeccable condition and without any sort of damage, but she wonders if they would be able to weather the frigid tempest brewing outside of the steeled walls. She knows that they are delicate with their aging pages, but is also well aware that she will not have the capability to scour the shelves for the entire day span and manage to collect so much information.
She allows him to continue on for a few more moments before inquiring with him once more, her hues bouncing from the collection she’s gestured towards and back to his lithe frame, " Do you have any personal suggestions? "
[ ♣ ];; palms wrapped around her coffee cup, she directs her gaze back to her friend, thinking of how much melodeia hasn’t changed. she still bears a sailor’s aching heart, eyes darker than a sea creature’s ribs, a chest so glassy calypso can almost watch it break.
[ ♣ ];; she smiles softly, tracing her finger across the cup’s rim. “you make it sound as if i’ve been locked up in a cage,” she answers, voice laced with mild amusement. “i suppose i have, with the amount of work required to rule a country.”
[ ♣ ];; a soft smile is on her lips, eyes diverted to the table, as if she’s hiding something secret. “trefle continues to be very kind to me. i’ve visited other countries as well.” she gestures to the cup in front of her, folding her fingers together underneath her chin. “i’ve ordered your favorite coffee for you, mel. i hope that’s all right.“
[ ♣ ];; her smile ceasing to erase, she pushes mel to talk. “occupied, you say? anything interesting you’d like to tell me, hm?”
It is without a doubt that Calypso is a warmhearted woman; her sweet-tempered benevolence coated in a peony-hued radiance. She is well-known for her selfless compassion that stretches like the sun across the borders, openhanded in all aspects of the word for those residing in her country and others nearby.
And while her tone is entangled with the faintest hint of mirth, the sea-dweller is perplexed on how she's managed to momentarily elude the tremendous responsibility that comes with reigning over that of the most blistering land and set her sights on neighboring countries.
" Where exactly have you been wandering? " she wastes no time in inquiring with the other female, though there is a smaller tug at her lips this time around as she encourages her to continue. She is pleased to hear her dearest friend has managed to find some leisure time, but something behind that softer beam makes her wonder if perhaps there is more to tell in this tale.
Melodeia goes to confess her gratitude that something warm has been ordered in her stead, but her words are stolen as her features suddenly twist into that of a scowl. She knows that Calypso means no harm as she presses her previous comment, but the events that have transpired over the past few days are anything aside from compelling.
" There's nothing interesting about being forced to a strange attraction where humans busy themselves with eating the wool of helpless animals, “ she says with her brows knitted together, glaring at the silverware as her beverage arrives and is placed in front of her.
Oh, of course. Of all the things that could have happened, he had to get a sudden headache. While he was able to heal, headaches were another matter. As far as he knew, he could only heal physical wounds, so he would have to wait for his headache to go away. He looked around, hoping to find somewhere to sit. Unfortunately, all the seats were taken. He would have to ask someone to share a seat.
“I…I’m so sorry…but would you mind if I sat next to you..? I have a headache…and all the other benches are taken…”
Drenched in the bright sunlight seeping in from the perennial plants above, the NEREID immerses herself within the pages of a book she's borrowed from the nearest collection of periodicals. She smooths her index finger along the edges of the hardback as she reads, features flicking with small expressions of surprise here and there as she follows the main character with an extended interest.
To be honest, she'd had her doubts on this selection, but was overall pleased with what she'd managed to understand thus far.
Melodeia snaps her head up almost instantly when addressed, startled by the sudden sound as she comes face to face with that of an weary-looking young man. She observes him for a moment in silence before she glances to the side, collecting her things and shuffling them closer to her person in order to allow him some room.
" .. Here, " she says simply, gesturing to the space beside her. She’d considered turning him away, but decides against it once she sees how pale he appears to be -- she may of detested men, but she wasn’t so heartless as to deny him a place to rest.
[ ♣ ];; outside the warmth of the cafe, the rain brews overhead. the storm strikes thunder in the sky, leaving the sun to sink at the bottom of the ocean. calypso can feel her fire burning through the palm of her hand, faint and searing at her flesh. wrapping her hands around the cup of her coffee, she burrows her shoulders deeper in the fabric of her coat.
[ ♣ ];; she circles the shape of her saucer until someones comes by the door, leaving the chimes ringing above the entrance as the customer arrives. calypso diverts her eyes to the incomer. her lips tug into a soft smile when she sees the hair the color of poseidon’s cavern, eyes darker than a siren’s heart.
[ ♣ ];; “mel,” she says gently, standing to immediately envelop her in an embrace. she keeps her arms around her, before she pushes herself away to quietly beam at her friend. “you’ve come. how i’ve missed you so.“ she releases melodeia from her arms and settles back into her seat, offering the chair in front of her to take for herself. "how have you been? i haven’t seen you in ages.”
With the monstrous resound stretching across the upper atmosphere, Melodeia slips inside the coffee shop the second the tempest begins to rage outside. She moves her delicate fingers into tresses kissed by the ocean, dismantling her signature curls that have been strung to one side in the wake of the harsh winds before she glances to the opposite side of the room in search of whom she's agreed to meet.
" Callie, " she speaks with an equal softness, wasting no time in approaching the other. She extends her arms without hesitation, lithe limbs encircling the other female as she gives her a gentle squeeze. " I'm surprised you've managed to escape the castle. "
She allows her mouth to curve into that of a smile as she teases the other, knowing full well how difficult it is at times for the GODDESS to have a free afternoon. She shakes out her petticoats before taking the seat opposite her dearest companion.
" I've been ... occupied with some things, " she chooses her words carefully, as though she is unsure how to properly describe how chaotic her life has been as of late. " What about you? Is everything fairing well in TREFLE? "
I’m going to throw myself on this bandwagon as well. If you’re interested in being on Melodeia’s RELATIONSHIPS PAGE, please just like this post. Even if they haven’t interacted, it’ll be fun to do a couple of them. We can always HC some impressions and stuff too or have something like a preexisting relationship.
In the brief time while waiting for the stranger’s reply, Samil takes a closer look at her. Some may say it is not wise to judge people by their covers. Yet, appearances can often provide good ideas about what one is comfortable of presenting outward, which are plenty information to be gained and filtered, in his opinion. With more attention, he can see the superfluous flairs on her clothes, the avant-garde dash in each folding of the fabric, and a doubt of whether she’s a true Carreau resident bubbles in his chest. A tourist, maybe? Not to say the people here aren’t fashionable, but living in what essentially is a frigid,mountainous terrain tends to make many emphasize utility and warmth over vogue and artistry.
While the words spoken are not laced with a derisive or snide resonance, it is difficult to believe that the male has no intentions of conveying sarcasm when she inquires the whereabouts of the extension ladders. She is not sure if it comes from his description of how massive the implement seems to be or from that of his nonchalant mention that people seeking such a apparatus is that of troublesome. It does little to help her in discerning his words as wholesome even more so when he continues, casually stating that someone would certainly injure themselves handling such impressive feats.
Melodeia turns over the idea in her head that she may be better suited to take her leave for the afternoon and that her chances of learning more so about humaneness and benevolence collectively will have to be put on hold for another day. Of course, she'd scoured the country more so in order to study that of mankind ( one of her closer friends in this world had suggested she pursue volumes that described more consideration in the human world as opposed to that of the crusades ), but she cannot help but wonder if perhaps it was a sign altogether that she wasn't able to achieve her goal.
She considers Poseidon himself sending the signal, gently waning her curiosity by forcing obstructions in her path. Maybe ( much to chagrin and apparent displeasure ) it is the opposite, however, as in the place of what she's come to learn about is that of a manifestation of an actual being.
" Do you know how much longer it will take for them to return? "
The NEREID had considered simply brushing the other off after he'd been quick to inform her of the assistant's absence ( something she could clearly see, but she was not keen on engaging another in an unfamiliar place; her trident was not near as it drew too much attention and bodies of water would freeze before she’d be able to properly manipulate them ), but she instead directs the conversation once more in order to gain further insight.
She considers he must of been someone familiar with the confines of the establishment or else he wouldn't of approached her in the first place (not to mention that he seems quite natural; his cheerful features blending in with the dimmed light from lanterns around them ) in the habitat of aging novels.
" I'm not interested in any other selections, " she continues after a brief pause, her voice still somewhat short, albeit not entirely composed of frost; honest, at the very least. " Unless you happen to know another case that holds issues on human philanthropy. "
She'd been hopping to ask the librarian as opposed to the stranger ( someone who looks much younger than she, may she add, if she's taking in her observations; though he has a wisdom about him she can’t properly identify ) as her cerulean orbs glance back up to the HUMANITY SECTION that she'd been gazing at for moments prior.
She clicks her tongue in frustration, narrowing her hues at the binding she'd been attempting to gather; it's almost as if they're mocking her inability to properly collect them. She knew trying to find hardbacks on what someone had offered as altruism was foolish. Even the species she'd gone ahead to study ( against her better judgement; how mindless of her to think they would even be gentle creatures in tales ) had skillfully put such munificence out of her reach.
name. melodeia merinus.
nickname(s). melodie ( from close friends and family ), mel ( from an idiot ).
age. twenty-three ( 23 )
species. nereid. sea nymph
p e r s o n a l .
morality. neutral good.
religious belief. hellenism.
sins. lust / greed / gluttony / sloth / pride / envy / wrath
virtues. chastity / charity / diligence / humility / kindness / patience / justice
primary goals in life.
languages known. english, greek, some french as a result of living in coeur.
secrets. she was betrayed by a human she had once ‘loved’ due to the fact that she is a sea nymph, so she does her due diligence to ensure very few know about her species. that she’s not so much incline to loathe humans ( she states she hates them on several occasions; specifically men ) as she is to be afraid of them.
quirks. twirling her hair in her fingers. filing her nails. stands on her toes often when observing items as she is much more petite than other beings on land. she also enjoys dipping her toes into any form of water that she sees ( ie - puddles, fountains, oceans, babbling brooks ).
savvies. both adaptable to her surroundings and perceptive of others emotions.
p h y s i c a l .
build. slender / scrawny / bony / fit / athletic / curvy / herculean / babyfat / pudgy / obese / other
height. 5′2″
scars/birthmarks. faded scar along the center of her stomach. no one has ever seen it.
abilities/powers. water manipulation ( restricted to saltwater bodies currently). aquatic respiration ( she can breathe underwater ). ranged attacks. she also has the ability to communicate with sea creatures ( more so through empathy than actual words ).
restrictions. difficulty trusting humans ( men specifically ) and cannot use her powers outside of saltwater bodies most often times.
f a v o u r i t e s .
favourite food. seaweed salad with sesame.
favourite drink. iced tea.
favourite pizza topping. most vegetables aside from mushrooms.
favourite colour. blue and green.
favourite music genre. classical. she enjoys things with a harp.
favourite book genre. she’s a fan of poetry, though she does enjoy romance other fiction
favourite movie genre. she’s never actually seen a movie laughs.
favourite season. summer.
favourite curse word. perhaps ‘damn’ but that’s about it.
favourite scent. salty, like the ocean.
f u n s t u f f .
bottom or top. PLEASE DONT
loud burper or soft burper. v soft.
sings in the shower. yes, but she’ll never admit it.
likes bad puns. yes / NO
their opinion on the mun. “She’s so talkative, it’s annoying -- why are humans always like this?”
He didn’t dare to hold any expectation, at first. If there has been any worldwide spread of a story about a gold-granting book, it would have reached every librarian’s ears, and his mission would be rendered less painful a long time ago. People can be quite single-minded in what interests them, and it only takes one look at the Celsus Kütüphanesi to affirm this. The proofs of their passion for learning, their legacies of pursuit, are suffocating across these grand halls. Despite himself, he found the corners of his lips quirked up, out of admiration. Greed of knowledge, he can abide to, as he is also under such. A fountain of books, and Acromion’s truth is buried underneath some (or maybe just one); this thought is less of a discouragement than a drive. He has all the time in the world to satisfy his hunger for information, after all. What he really prays for, is patience.
It is without a doubt that shelves so high are known to have no concern about those closest to the ground ( greater than that of average height, they have no qualms about looking down on those whom come to seek the knowledge within their bindings ), but they seem to laugh in that of a contemptuous manner to those whom are out of proper reach.
Of course, this is all artificial ( she knows that inanimate objects do not possess the capabilities to feel disdainful; she wonders if perhaps she envies their inability to become that of derisive ), but their height makes it seem as if they are almost doing a scornful mocking of how infinitesimal she and others appear to be. She knows that her time here on land is nothing to be made of significant ( she wants to be undetected, after all, carefully choosing her objectives in a methodical fashion so as not to drawn unwarranted attention ); she feels indignant ( irritated, frustrated, annoyed; her displeasure is clear on her dainty features ) about such a fate however.
Though the ocean ( surrounding landmasses or engulfing them entirely with salt water ) was an expanse to be that of tremendous, she'd never felt so inadequate there as she did within the confines of this man-made structure.
Melodeia considers taking her leave for the afternoon ( she's traveled a great distance in order to ride herself other annoyances in her home country; two playing cards must of been diligently trying to locate her to amuse themselves ), but is stopped as she hears soft footsteps echo down the hall before they stop just a few feet away from her lithe-frame.
The NEREID turns her head nothing but a fraction, cerulean orbs drinking in the appearance of the male she'd stopped earlier and had turned from in posthaste. Simply looking at this human hadn't been giving him an invitation to engage her ( she'd shifted her gaze in order to prevent such a thing from happening ), but it seems as though he's taken it for one.
" There were no attendants at the front desk, " she explains after a moment, features still directed to the large shelves overhead to avoid meeting his gaze; his voice is faint, nothing above a whisper so not as to disturb others around them. Even with such a considerate persona emanating off of him, she doesn't find herself willing to occupy herself with idle chit-chat.
There is a brief pause, however, as he mentions that of a structure she's discerned once or twice back when she'd been in COEUR; it's a series of steps fastened to two upright lengths, if she remembers correctly. She considers this for another moment, debating if her curiosity is something she'd like to truly indulge, before simply inquiring with him, " Would you happen to know where one of these 'ladders' are to be held? "
Iring rather enjoys the events that go on constantly in the theme park. They’re bright, lively, and really stupid looking. He would never take part in them for too long, though, as if paying too much attention to the clowns around him would make him become too immersed in their shenanigans. Very crowded places could be dangerous, after all. Who’s to say no problematic person would recognize him here? That was why it was always good to travel in pairs. Or with a kidnapped co-worker of sorts.
A light bout of laughter escapes his throat at her words. “And how will you get rid of me? I’d like a heads-up, if you can.” Iring looks back at the girl, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Ooh, don’t you feel safe around me? Wouldn’t it be dangerous to run off by yourself in such a big and confusing place? Please don’t do that, I’d get worried~” Yes, worried that he might get scolded by a superior for losing a precious 5 in Coeur’s happy little theme park.
He watched, amused, as Melodeia eyed the bright candy. He couldn’t quite tell if she just didn’t trust anything that came from his hands, or if the poor girl had truly never seen something as simple as cotton candy before. Perhaps it was both. “‘Melodeia’ takes too much effort. Mel is easy to say. It’s not a stupid nickname, just more efficient for my tastes.” He twirls the rejected cotton candy around in his hand, inspecting it idly as he talked. “This? Well, how should I explain to someone as sheltered as you… You know sheep? It’s made from a special sub-species of sheep’s wool. It comes out all colorful and sugary-looking like this.” He beamed in her direction. “It’s a fun delicacy here.”
It is without a doubt that being in the company of someone who hides such a savage persona behind the veil of a carefree smile will have adverse consequences. Even with the expression of his significance and elevated status among both the other cards and those of higher ranking ( he is well-known for his ability in swordsmanship and the like; esteemed by many, respected by nearly all ), she knows him to be underhanded; human men alone were disingenuous enough ( she’d refused to fall into another scheme at the hands of someone most vicious ), but he was more than deceptive.
Of course, there is no solid proof of this -- perhaps it is just her extreme distaste for males in general that make her discern him as most clandestine -- though she feels her conscious forewarning her regardless.
“ You’re foolish if you have the audacity to think that I’m going to associate you with something like safety, “ she replies, her tone less fluid and mirroring that of biting; he is not something she finds as a synonym to protection. “ The only thing you’re worried about is starving off your own boredom. “
Melodeia knows it to be true ( without fail, in fact, as she purposely goes out of her way to avoid his excruciating happy-go-lucky personalty ) and simply scowls at him in response as he continues, nonchalantly providing her with an explanation that her given name is too arduous to pronounce. She goes to comment on how truly abhorrent he is to her ( though he most likely already knows ), but her voice is caught when he twirls the spun sugar in his hand and provides her with further clarification.
“ That’s completely barbaric, “ she exclaims, dainty features twisting in a bout of disgust; he is no better than an undomesticated animal. Something akin to that of a wild carnivorous mammal. A wolf, she thinks. “ I cannot believe you disgusting humans would nearly skin such a ruminant animal for consumption. “
She’d heard about clothing made from the woolly coat of sheep, but she’d never imagined that one would find it to be a delicacy. The NEREID feels her stomach churn once more.as he smiles sickeningly sweet at her, “ I hope you’re not going to eat such a thing right in front of me. “
It was an amusing sight when the two approached the sweet treat stand. Melodeia attempted to break free from his grasp every chance she saw, but Iring remained as stoic as ever, even reaching into his pocket to get money and pay for a whole bundle of pink cotton candy– all while still holding her wrist. It would make no difference if they were literally handcuffed together, with how intent he was on keeping her by his side.
“Listen, Mel…” He offered the fluffy candy to her, or rather, shoved it at her with a bright smile. “Life is all about trying new things! Oh, and I didn’t ask, but… do you even like eating this sort of thing?”
In the distance, there are the enthusiastic sounds of large crowds being appeased by that if the number of attractions; trained animals performing a number of convoluted feats and experienced acrobats dangling from the beams of a large tent elicit a number of gasps, followed by feverish clapping that resounds about the entire carnival. The crowd erupts into a fit of laughter nothing short of a moment later after another performer appears in place of the large mammals, narrow strips of bold-colored material bursting into the air from his costume as a form of celebration.
Melodeia inclines her head to the side in an attempt to see where the excitement is sounding from ( even if she is resentful towards him for insisting she come along against her will, she has to admit she is rather curious ), but her gaze meets that of an overzealous jester whom appears out of nowhere and she quickly shuffles away so she is closer to her abductor. She squeezes his hand unconsciously as they make their way through the crowd, realizing only a moment later that he still has no intentions of releasing her.
The firm hold he has about her wrist makes her delicate features twist in a bout of frustration, the tightened grasp enough to render her near immobile at his side and unwillingly coercing her to go along with what frivolous inclination he desires.
“ There are plenty of things that I could of been doing this afternoon as opposed to being kidnapped by you, “ she counters, though her ears begin to redden ( it is out of sheer frustration, she tells herself, and certainly not embarrassment ) as he so pointedly mentions her inexperience towards events such as this. “ I’m certainly not lost either.. I’m simply remembering where I am so that it’ll be easier to find my way back after I’ve gotten rid of you. “
She wastes no time in scowling at him despite the fact he is turned away from her and has directed his attention to the attendant at the stand where they’ve stopped, hastily digging into his pockets and revealing a handful of WISHES for the exchange. She attempts to take advantage of the distraction and remove herself once more, but her resistance is fruitless; she doesn’t understand how her strength can be so forlorn against his determined grip.
" My name is Melodeia. Stop calling me by that stupid nickna-- "
She observes the accumulation of fluff with a great deal of suspicion; it's clear to see the hesitation on her features ( she finds the male rather fictitious despite the fact they share an affinity with their rankings; certain he is that of mendacious, she's done her due diligence to avoid him and anything he's offered to her on numerous occasions ), but there is also the smallest hint of interest.
" I've .. never eaten anything like this before, " she admits once the mass of spun sugar is forced in her direction, cerulean hues scrutinizing the paper cone in his free hand as he gestures for her to indulge herself.
The NEREID does not take the bait, however, and instead pushes the treat back towards him under the guise ( though it is not entirely that of a facade; human delicacies are always so complex and known to have a number of foreign ingredients ) that she is unsure on how to go about eating the treat, “ What is it made with? “
With a colorful presentation of numerous light delicacies and elaborate beverages, the small, chic tea room stands out in comparison to the many other brasseries lined along the street. On the opposite side of the avenue, there resides a number of couture shops filled to the brim with designer clothing only native to the residing country. Several young woman flock to the window displays, their features jubilant as they admire the à la mode designs before grasping at each others hands; it's clear to see that while they are envious of such fashion-forward articles, they are content enough to simply look as oppose to touching.
It is without a doubt that the PLAISIR is that of a popular destination in the heart of COUER ( it's attractive appeal something both humans and other beings only dream about being able to see ), but there is one young woman seated across from that of an eloquent heiress that seems to have her mind preoccupied on skimming her nails as opposed to the lavish atmosphere.
“ Yes. Can you not tell that I’m listening very intently to your tale? “
Melodeia lifts her hues momentarily to address the younger woman on the opposing side of her whom questions if she is paying attention, sparing her an almost bored glance before resuming her inspection of her fingertips. She knows the other girl to be rather haughty, but she is not completely opposed to her presence. It is, of course, much more tolerable ( though she must admit she can do without the frivolous sighs about how ‘dreamy’ this would be or how ‘romantic’ that would be; she’s given up on the matter herself altogether ) than that of the opposite gender she so detests.
discoholicmusic
romaincrisis
annaxmalina
turnnoffyourmind
gummygunk
snowghoul
titsay
origamiaround
