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Today's Document
DEAR READER
almost home
RMH
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Belgium
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Malaysia
seen from Germany
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@seejungfer
#𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐅𝐄𝐑. INDEPENDENT ⸺ SELECTIVE ⸺ PRIVATE rp blog for ORIGINAL CHARACTERS and various highly private CANON CHARACTERS. written by NIKAN, CET, 28+. minors dni. contents may include cannibalism, violence, suicidal ideation. established september 8, 2025
CARRD. MEMES. OPENS. WISH LIST (CANON MUSES). WISH LIST (OCs).
He follows her into the kitchen and leave the box of sweets over the counter. " I wasn't supposed to" he should be heading at work now but here he was. He walked over her standing behind her and pressed a small kiss to her temple. " came to apologise..." he admited as he regained his position. "I don't want you to give throwing daggers at me with your eyes specially tomorrow at the photoshot."
@mortuam
feeling damon step close, yakan lowers her phone, the kiss to her temple eliciting no visual reaction from her. well . . . if that isn't one of the worst apologies she's heard before. although damon hasn't even truly apologised yet. ❝ you came to apologise because me being angry would make you uncomfortable tomorrow? ❞ she says slowly ere she turns on the bar stool, watching damon quietly for a few moments. ❝ ⸺ you know, you're exceptionally bad at this. ❞ a soft sigh escapes her and she leans back. ❝ i'm not really angry. i'm just ⸺ disappointed in how everything went down. not just your reaction, just . . . everything. ❞
luka has a high number of segyein fans that were interested in acquiring his body should he have lost during either alnst 49 or alnst 50. the reasons as to why they wanted to purchase it ranged from simply wanting to possess such a model and popular human pet if only briefly even after his death, to taxidermizing/preserving, to potentially consuming his body.
luka is well aware of the offers these fans have made to heperu. deep down, he feels like the possibility of his body being auctioned off should disturb him more than it actually does, but he barely feels like a living person as is. but if he had any say in it, he'd want his body to be cremated immediately and his ashes scattered in anakt garden just like hyun woo and the other contestants.
however, heperu would have most likely kept his body to use for further research and see where he failed in creating the perfect human pet before simply having it incinerated or otherwise disposed of.
i need this person to stop why are they allowed to hurt me like this :(((
He gives the screen of his phone a last look before slipping in inside his pockets and wait for him to allow him to walk in. Once she allow it and he's free to push doors opens. He doesn't await more and walks in getting inside get place. "morning."
@mortuam
watching damon practically waltz in as though yesterday's conversation didn't happen, yakan levels an unimpressed glance at him, one eyebrow raised. ❝ ⸺ morning. ❞ she closes the door behind him ere heading back to the kitchen counter, sitting down on one of the bar stools and pulling her coffee close to herself. ❝ i didn't expect you to drop by considering yesterday's hubbub , ❞ yakan mutters, scrolling through her phone with one hand.
He responded the text by a simple 'okay. Goodnight'. There wasn't much he could add either, beside he knows we'll that if he keeps texting it will end worse and he doesn't want that, things needs to cool down a little before he even tries anything or regrets anything.
By next morning he makes sure to be up early and get a box of her favorite sweets. He even question to himself as to how hes even doing this, how is he even making himself even thought about an a apology.
He's inside his car, outside her place and texting her.
( yakan: 6:45am) : morning... Can you open? I'm outside your place
@mortuam
yakan wakes bright and early as she always does to prepare for the day ahead. although, with her song now released ⸺ as much as it was a failure on a personal level as much as she is concerned ⸺ her calendar has opened up a bit. so she takes a long shower ere she prepares a coffee when her phone vibrates on the counter, notifying her of an incoming message.
. . . truth be told, she isn't sure if she should be surprised by damon's decision to visit her like this. it is a little ironic, though, considering it's not inconspicuous at all. regardless . . . instead of mentioning it, yakan merely sighs softly ere typing up her reply as she gets up from her chair to wait for damon by her apartment door.
[ ✓ sent ⸺ 06:47am ] i'm buzzing you in.
Renoir knows what he has done. He is cognizant of his choices. He understands that he is unmaking her world. He unravels the very chroma Aline used to paint them----all of them. He know that what he is doing is unfair to them, to her. Yet, Aline has painted her and Alicia is so much like his own daughter. Even if there are differences, she is in the image of her.
Renoir was never one to raise his hand to Alicia. For the times they met, he has always been gentle. Try as he might, he cannot stop himself from the attachment to the painted version. In some way, he has come to an attachment to the painted shadow of his own daughter. Seeing the pain, seeing the anguish leaves a bitter taste upon his tongue. There is no joy in the undoing of this world which bleeds in the same manner as his own. Be it ink, they are all living, sentient beings. Yet, knowing such, he still unravels the foundations of their core.
Only one of them can survive. Renoir has made his choice.
His eyes follow her movement, so familiar. Visions of his Alicia flash momentarily before him. The same familiar stance, the same moves modeled after his own for he as well, had partaken in fencing and passed that interest to her. Aline did her work well.
Renoir gathers chroma to deflect the blow, but there is a lingering sadness which clouds his gaze-----he does not wish to fight her.
❝Alicia, you are clouded by grief. We do not have to fight. You should return home and spend what time is left in peace.❞
alicia stumbles, the momentum of her attack throwing her back when renoir deflects it. pain ripples throughout her body from her wrist, and she has to clench her teeth to suppress a gasp. she expected it, really, but . . . it still stings. to know that there's only so little that she can do against that man.
. . . taking a deep breath, she takes up her stance once more, raising her blade at the painter before her. his words elicit nary a reaction from her, her singular eye focused on him.
they do not have to fight, no, and perhaps he doesn't want to fight her. but she wants to fight him. although it has never not been personal, right now, alicia cannot suffer being as passive as she has been. not when she just found the petals left behind by her father's gommage. renoir's refusal to fight her properly, to instead show her mercy and ask of her to wait for the coming of the end ... it merely angers her. why spare her when he will not allow for another outcome but all of their demise anyway? what peace is there in knowing that she will inevitably die all by herself? everyone but verso is gone. and verso? he is unmaking their world alongside renoir.
alicia's chin tips upwards for but a moment, an invitation that she knows he won't take. then, she darts forward again. several hits this time, regardless of whether he may deflect or dodge. her target is always his torso, his neck, anything that may weaken him.
He held her firmly in his arms as she reveled in the pleasure the vibrator was giving her. He kept her close to him to prevent her from falling or even escaping; he didn't want her away. He let the toy do its thing, but even with all the prayers and pleas she was offering, he didn't change his mind. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist and let her chin rest on his head as he hugged her. "But my love," he almost purred. "I thought you liked this," he said, teasing, referring to the toy since he had initially discovered her using it. "Come on, enjoy it a little longer. Besides, there's no room for me," he jested once more as he increased the toy's intensity.
@mortuam
yakan's stomach is twisting tighter with her release coming closer and closer, as much as she wishes she could will it away. oh, this isn't fair at all. he is merely holding her, not touching her at all, his voice like velvet. ❝ i ⸺ i want you more than this, please, damon , ❞ she whines and whimpers, muffled against the crown of his head, fingers intertwining with his hair tighter. the vibrations against that sensitive spot inside her intensifying makes her see stars. with a sharp gasp, yakan curls around him, her breath stuttering as her entire body seizes up. ❝ damon . . . ! ❞ one last cry ere her climax rolls over her, the moans spilling from her lips without shame or restraint. all the spirit can do is keep clinging to him, her legs wrapped around him tightly as her hips jerk against his uncontrolled. then, she slumps down, a weak, shaky noise escaping her.
Once she was close enough to him, his hand idle began to to caress the base of her jawline as his eyes remains on hers. She's right he's been behaving so good - well, both of them are behaving but he's fighting himself even if it doesn't show up. "you really think so?, because I'm surprised too" he admits but he really knows that all he wants is have her into his arms and more and would do it even now over this table if he even was able to but he needs to behave for next hours or so. A small grin at the corner of his lips as he leaned in to murmur close to her ear. " of course you are my dessert... I'll have you all for myself and so eat you all fine"
@mortuam
how very content the spirit is to lean into his gentle touch, so obvious in her want and need for each and every affection he deigns to give her. briefly, she closes her eyes to soak in the contact, then a soft chuckle escapes her. ❝ mhm . . . i was sure you'd take me before we even left home. ❞ damon not doing so was a little . . . not disappointing, per se, but close enough. but they'd likely have the rest of the night to indulge in one another more intimately. the implication in his words does run a shiver down her spine, and yakan exhales softly.
❝ i suppose i'll have to be patient, as well . . . but i'll be all yours. ❞ although now she won't quite be able to keep it off her mind all evening. ❝ i want all of you, and i want you to have all of me. ❞ something so very obvious considering her many confessions before, but yakan does like reinforcing her ownership over damon and his ownership over her.
He wanted to respond, he even almost did, but instead he just let out a snort, almost a sigh. It was as if his demeanor had drastically changed, and he simply nodded. He could see there was no way to continue explaining himself, or to explain the matter, much less find an immediate solution. She was making her position clear, and besides, how stubborn she was, unwilling to budge, which was getting on his nerves. He got up from his desk and walked to the front door with firm steps, holding it open for her. "If this is fine for now, thank you for trying to sort it out with your agency --------- I appreciate it," he said as if this were nothing more than business. If she wanted to remain stubborn, then he was free to take another position, although it annoyed him that she was trying to fix it that way. If that were what he wanted, he would have already bought her agency and handled the matter himself, but since she seemed to want to do it her way, he simply let it be. "Until the day after tomorrow then." he said almost reluctantly, "Text me that you got home safe and sound, please."
@mortuam
yakan watches damon out of the corner of her eyes ere she follows him to the door. he doesn't appear happy with the . . . consensus they've reached, but it is all what she is willing to offer him as of now. straightening out her clothes, she gives one more small nod, then steps through the door and heads for the elevators without looking back at damon. for now . . . she's had enough. although yakan does comply with his request and texts him once she's home.
[ ✓ sent ⸺ 07:43pm ] i've arrived home. goodnight.
she doesn't go to sleep immediately. a few more calls to her manager and others taking care of her social media accounts keep her occupied for almost two more hours, and when she finally falls into bed exhausted, yakan falls asleep rather immediately.
It was amusing, terribly so - for the state of a predator to be this shattered. They looked exhausted, recovering from anxieties of the unknown and just as the tidal wave was settling down the seas pull them back. The fear and worry was clear, the scrambling of the mind - ah, it made the sea serpent chuckle to himself. He really should stop these games with life on this planet but when you are to destroy it, drown it and devour it - you had to find ways to make it worthwhile you wait. Gaze was fixated upon Cimon, after all, he was the one with his blood running through his being, but they did flicker towards the one in the back. Smaller, gentler looking - the infamous sibling they must have needed to get back to and now, trying to protect again.
That drive. That love and desperation.
These creatures were just like the rest of them, thriving for a good life and instead of seeing his offer as ultimate free gain of life without worry, conflict or even death - they see as imprisonment. It always made him have a good laugh, he never really went into detail with how he looks after his collection, but that was the fun of the game. Matter not though, he had a heavy hand to his pets and that was all the world needed to know for until he comes to devour the surface.
"You would rather him to remain on this surface, to be hunted, harmed and fend for himself without you?" He starts in reply, standing straight once more and dusting off his clothing from sandy shore and foam of the sea. Though he was drenched or dampened by it, just bothered. "You think he'd allow his only kin to be taken from him and not seek out the depths in finding you? Forgoing all the rules of survival for his only brother?" Gloved hands settle upon his frame, hand to chin and the other across his front to rest elbow upon knuckles.
"… Kin of Cimon, would you allow him to be taken in by me?" He asks over Cimon's replies because in all honesty, it was just amusing. He wanted to know what that mind thought upon its own. He understood brotherhood and hierarchical leadership, but it was naïve to think they were just drones that didn't have wants and wills of their own. "Whilst your brother will be with me, he will have home and board, fed at any time he desires, to swim the oceans without threat of humanity nor predator larger than himself… whilst he will leave you here, amongst dangers of all kinds." Gaze is pinpoint, curious with tilt of crown and mask shimmers with the days light.
"Selfish of him, is it not? To pull you away from a world of safety under my collection and to fend for yourself…"
oh, of course iáthan would try to make it sound appealing, as though being fed and physically safe is all that they need to be happy. makes it sound as though cimon would want to leave agapios behind. but he wouldn't have to make such a cruel choice if iáthan simply left them alone, no? instead of trying to claim some sort of ownership over them.
❝ don't talk to him! ❞ cimon hisses, gills fluttering with ire and anxiety alike, but his voice could never drown out iáthan's as it booms in both their heads, causing both nausea and headaches. and so agapios listens, shoulders hunched and eyes wide. he doesn't know what is happening, why this . . . this man appeared before them and speaks to them the way he is. but finally, finally he can make the connection as to what happened to his older brother when he was gone, and then suddenly reappeared. more frantic, more paranoid, and so, so insistent on teaching him how to hunt properly when before he was more than happy to leave agapios out of it entirely.
❝ what? no, i don't want to be alone, you can't leave me here! if it's safe, why is ⸺ ❞ before agapios can continue, cimon whirls around to him and grasps his shoulders, ignores the scales of his tail dragging against the stone surface. with clenched teeth, the older siren shakes his head. ❝ agapios, stop . . . ! listen to me, being a part of his collection isn't good! ❞ ah. he didn't mean to utter his sibling's name in front of iáthan, but ... no matter. his fingers dig into agapios' shoulders as he takes a deep breath. ❝ you ⸺ you like watching humans, right? and collecting all these ⸺ these things. don't lie, i know you sneak away and try to find them. ❞ agapios almost has the decency to look ashamed even under the current circumstances, his eyes flickering off to the side for a brief moment. he knows of cimon's disapproval of him seeking out such human trinkets, after all. ❝ you can't do that when with him. perhaps he'd feed us when we're hungry, maybe we're . . . safe, but then we can't decide for ourselves anymore what we want. and we can feed ourselves, can't we? we've been fending for ourselves all this time, and we've been going wherever we wanted. ❞ cimon hesitates, tries to ignore the threat looming behind his back as he searches for words.
❝ i know it hasn't been easy, but it's our life. and i don't want you to spend the rest of your life on some . . . some ancient being's whim. ❞ he doesn't want it for himself, either, but if he can trade his freedom for agapios', then he'll do it within a heartbeat. his sweet, naïve sibling. agapios is staring at him with wide eyes still, lips parted as he struggles to say anything. ❝ but . . . n-no, i don't want to be alone, you can't leave . . . ❞
now i go back to studying
in the privacy of his room, he allows himself to fall apart. he's even gone as far as to ensure the blinds were closed; leaving the room almost uncomfortably dark, as he hasn't bothered with turning on any lights either. couldn't possibly risk anyone seeing. see just how tired he is, how lonely he feels, how everything just feels like too much. and the way he has no one to rely on.
he falls back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. a sterile white. after a moment, he turns to his side and stares at the wall. it's not much different; painted white and lacking in any decoration. the entirety of ivan's room is lacking any sort of character; it's not cozy, it's practical.
he reaches for his pillow and hugs it close; a bit of an embarrassing habit ( in his opinion ) but it helps. when he adds the blanket to it, it's almost like hugging another person; and them hugging him back. it's almost nice. his eyes hurt in the back with unshed tears, ones that he's found that he cannot simply will to spill. last he remembers himself crying was when he was still prepubescent.
but it's fine. he doesn't need it. he just needs a second to allow the mask to drop for a second.
then there's a knock on his door. ivan freezes, then blinks back the discomfort. slowly sits up; needs to find his composure again before actually answering. feels himself grow a little irritable when there's another knock. with a deep breath, he stands, and forces the mask back on. adopts the easy-going smile that's so fake, yet it's become like second nature to him.
he's fine. he's perfect, he's flawless, he's fully in control of himself, he can shoulder any burden and any responsibility.
“ yes? ” his voice comes smoothly as he opens the door, eyes creasing a bit as he forces his smile to appear a little more warm, a little more welcoming.
coming on land is nerve-wrecking at the best of times. the clothes cimon stole feel constricting, and more often than not, he tugs at the collar rubbing uncomfortably against his gills, pulls at the sleeves at his wrists. his disguise is good enough to withstand any passing glances, although the siren can't help but remain . . . wary.
still, the siren slips through the crowds as quickly as he can towards the building in which ivan must reside. he showed the place to him once, although cimon never thought that he'd have to go there by himself. he waits in front 'til someone else enters, and from there . . . he follows the ivan's scent. he's familiar enough with it by now that it's easy to pick out in a closed building. fingers tracing the smooth walls, he wanders along the corridors until he finds the door from which ivan's scent permeates the strongest.
. . . what if ivan really doesn't want to meet him anymore, though? is it so wise being here? cimon hesitates, his hand hovering in front of him. then, he knocks anyway. he may as well make sure, no? once the door opens, the siren straightens his shoulders just a tad.
❝ ⸺ i haven't seen you in days. ❞ concern hidden 'neath an accusatory tone, masking the insecurity of whether ivan has grown weary of him yet. yes, cimon knows that humans have . . . jobs and other obligations, but still. since they've originally met ivan has never been gone this long, and without a word. ❝ where have you been? and . . . ❞ cimon pauses, head tilting and nose wrinkling as he observes the other more closely. ❝ are you okay? your face looks weird. ❞
The night was long - with the sun lowering and disappearing by the seas line, the glow of the stars and moon seemed to be enough and yet not. Like the time this creature and hidden sibling was to wait for their freedoms last day and yet, it lingered. The powerlessness, that anxiety, that dread of soon, just soon - that sea would split, and their throats will be in the hands of the monster in those depths.
But it wouldn't come.
Not now.
No, not even that night - nor the following morning, nor the week, month and nearly three… no, four months. The torment Iáthan placed upon these creatures was for his amusement. He was a monster, he was an obsessed creature of the sea, but he wasn't one to run and collect things the moment he saw them. It was tiring to be constantly moving, to welcome the fear in the seas, in their hidden connection from making Cimon drink his blood, eat his flesh - making them chained until the end of days without their knowledge. It was a delicious delirium of humour to him.
Sat perfectly content with his sea dwelling creatures. Watching them thrive in their tanks of special waters - after all, thousands upon thousands of years have shaped this planet, these creatures can not thrive in current sea levels, chemicals and the likes were always changing and that was why they were inside such places. They couldn't thrive like Cimon and his sibling, not only in the sea but on land too. They were strong swimmers though drained from lack of good hunting they were beasts with little to no shame in taking what they needed and yet, Cimon's fear clouded his judgement.
Did he pay attention to their conversation? No, but it wasn't like Iáthan to spell it out either. He was to collect them, when they were in dire needs. When the world was on another shift of planetary change, but he didn't say that. Nor did he say a month from the moment of collecting them that day - just another 30 days of his choosing. It could have started that day, but it didn't, he merely allowed Cimon to think it.
Well… maybe he did, but didn't mean he had to hold onto it.
Though - as he walked the length of his skeletal home, he pushed from the silt sand beds to approach the surface. He knew it wasn't time for the wiping out of all mankind so he had to be careful, but it was just his nature to cause a few waves, tidal and riptides to pull food down, and he was in the process of greeting those two. They surely didn't stay on the same beachfront - he did feel them move around occasionally but fear always brings those back to familiar surroundings. The better they knew, the easier in the mind it was to plan escapes, but it was hard to do so when they were connected in ways that the other creature didn't know about.
So, yes - in time, a beachfront was flooded, the sands washed to the risen stone walls and the people on it washed into the foam in silenced fear. One was taken by the throat, crushed under the surface before they could flail and taken to another part of the beach. Hidden away - though populated it was empty, save for the blips of them. Cimon and… sibling, he knew not the name of yet. Though he didn't mind, in fact it wasn't like he couldn't learn it soon enough upon tossing the corpse into their lair and daring to crouch before it. "Cimon." That should be enough, no?
"Are you willing to take my offer now?"
cimon waits and waits and waits for iáthan to come claim him. he waits until his lungs nigh give out, the sharp edges of the cliff he's hiding atop digging into the bare soles of his feet when the sun nigh rises again. what a relief it is to dive back into the cold water ⸺ physically, at least. emotionally . . . no. no, cimon is still worried. terrified, actually. because if iáthan isn't here to claim him now, when will he? tomorrow? the day after tomorrow? it's been thirty days, no? why didn't he appear? and what should he do now . . . ?
in that hour that it takes for his tail to return properly, fear and uncertainty gnawing away at cimon, agapios finds him again. visibly worried yet so, so relieved to find his brother returned safe and whole. cimon, as well, is relieved to see agapios, to know that iáthan didn't play a trick on him and took his sibling instead of him. and so, the older siren simply holds the smaller one close, soothes his worries without mentioning just what caused all of this. not now. he just . . . doesn't have the energy.
they return to the depths of the sea and the safety of their little home 'neath the waves, both exhausted from having remained on land for as long as they have.
and still cimon waits for iáthan to appear. always in the back of his mind, he keeps teaching agapios how to survive, keeps an eye out for any tides that bode dangerous, forces them to move to foreign waters and dwell there for a week or two ere returning to more familiar surroundings. it's only after two months that iáthan's promise slips his mind, that he relaxes for a while and simply enjoys his life as is. another month, and cimon slowly ceases always looking over his shoulder or frantically keeping agapios within his sight at all times. the tension leaves cimon, and his sibling is all the happier for it.
it's a sense of normalcy that is taken again from them after yet another month passes.
the anxiety that hits him quite violently when the tides change unnaturally and suddenly nigh chokes him. even agapios, still unaware of iáthan's intentions ⸺ or mere existence, even ⸺ is quiet and tense as they huddle together at the back of their cave. but . . . that can't be, right? it's been four months. why would he come now? why be so cruel to give him hope that he escaped?
then again, why wouldn't he do this?
the immediacy with which cimon places himself between their would-be captor and his sibling when iáthan appears before them speaks of his desperation. gills fluttering, the fin at his back upright. agapios stays close to him, remaining behind his back all the while peeking at the creature blocking their only exit. the corpse tossed their way goes ignored.
❝ iáthan . . . ❞ cimon begins, then swallows as he searches for words. agapios looks from the serpent to him, then back at iáthan. confused, scared. ❝ please . . . i just ⸺ i . . . ❞ he what? needs more time? of course he does. he doesn't want to spend the rest of his life imprisoned as one of iáthan's collection pieces. and he doesn't want agapios to end up imprisoned, either. and cimon is more desperate for agapios to be free and have a chance at happiness than for himself to remain free.
❝ y-you'll let him go if i go with you, right? he can stay free, he doesn't need to come with us. ❞
Narrator: you hum some as you look over the book, tilting your head at his claims that he thought you would be able to read. Narrator: why would he think that? you're sure you've never met him before, let alone even been here. after all, you only know the woods. you only know the cabin.
Voice of the Hero: ...i'm starting to feel like that isn't quite true.. but we've definitely never been here, at least.
Narrator: regardless, you find that this book doesn't have enough pictures for you to keep interested in it for long, though you do think they are quite nice. Narrator: but he's soon answering your question, and presenting another new one, and you sort of pause, quiet for a few moments.
Ah........... No, I don't think I do. I.. Think the Princess, the Narrator, and the Voices all just.. Call me You. ..Maybe that's my name..?
❝ you isn't a name. it's just a second-person pronoun , ❞ luka corrects the creature nigh absent-mindedly, still staring at the camera. what a ridiculous notion, thinking that you counts as a name. this whole interaction is unprecedented, and luka is rather uncertain as to how to proceed. this isn't an interview, or a test or anything of the sort . . . if it was a test, then he's unable to tell what it would be for or how it's useful. then, suddenly, a frown mars his features. a narrator and voices. that sounds . . . wrong?
then again, this situation is all wrong. for the briefest of moments, luka's lips pull into a thin line, then he allows a smile to curl his lips. until he understands what is going on . . . he'll simply have to adapt. he's calm as he always is, has been trained to be at all times, so he can manage any situation.
❝ a narrator and voices . . . ❞ he echoes, hands clasped behind his back. ❝ what do they say? ❞
“ YOU NEVER LEARN ” Cerulean eyes roll before pinching his cheek. She talked to him about this, if he keeps doing it, he'll meet someone that will elbow him in the gut. “—you know what I'm tired...its chicken curry, go set them table.”
the pinch to his cheeks draws but a good-natured growl from dyani ere he nods. ❝ mm, alright. ❞ and how very quick he is to set the table, clearly eager to have a taste of the meal. ❝ ⸺ your work is making you tired? ❞
She's definitely not giving up on going more than once, even if she must employ... dirty tactics to do so. As much as she loves and respects Sleipnir, she also doesn't want to be babied by him either. And, well, if she makes big eyes at Sleipnir's boss to keep her around, then she'll just have to deal with Sleipnir being mad at her for a few days. Or weeks.
Aerith hums in... not quite agreement, but at least acknowledgement. She sits back on her haunches, closer to Sleipnir's knees, and trails a palm down his chest thoughtfully. "I look forward to it, then," she purrs instead, then bats her eyes at Sleipnir, all teasing and sweet. "Don't worry about what I wear, Sleip. You know I don't mind getting my dresses dirty~"
sleipnir watches her closely, eyebrows knit together and lips pulled into a thin line. by now, he knows aerith well enough to be able tell that she's not given up on the idea to accompany him more often. even her attempts at sweetening him up are but a means to that end, and they draw but another sigh from him. he's certain her tactics would work on just about anyone, and on occasion, they work on him as well, however . . . no. not this time. he'd much rather ascertain that she doesn't see have to see that side of him that's so brutal. so very much not human. leaning back, sleipnir's palms press into the smooth surface of the wooden floor. ❝ yes, i know , ❞ he almost grumbles. ❝ but i just don't want either of us to waste time and energy on trying to get mud out of your favorite dresses. ❞
