Pantalone x Reader x Dottore (mainly Pantalone x reader)
Where, after Dottore's (Zandik, the original) death takes place, both you and Pantalone quietly mourn the Doctor. Ends up with domestic dottolone x reader scenario don't worry
Fluff, Angst, somewhat long drabble, not proofread i'm lazy
After Zandik's death, every interaction with Dottore felt a bit... unnatural. The original had vanished from existence, and only his creations remained standing.
Somewhere deep, buried within your heart you still missed Dottore. The original side of him. Even as grumpy and insufferable he was, you loved Zandik with all of your heart.
And so, years ago at Zandik's death, you had to leave that piece of heart behind.
Pantalone was always nearby; he made his mission to be next to you after the tragedy. You were surprised at seeing the fact that he somewhat.. moved on from Zandik, as the human part of him had been transferred eventually to Omega. The main segment of Dottore, and the one who wears your husband's face, yet is still.. not him.
You were the last one to come to the pair. You were the last one to come to love them both; Dottore and Pantalone.. and you were the last one to move on. Of course you eventually did; yet didn't miss every single time it hit the anniversary of his death. Dottore would have thought that putting flowers at his grave would be boring, repetitive, and useless. As they would die.
So, instead, to honour his wish, you placed plastic, resilient ones, and replaced them each year. Same day, same blue.
The feelings got lost in the past. Somewhere long ago. But the tradition remains.
Yet, despite your somewhat annoying tradition at this point, your two partners were always so dotting with you.
Pantalone always made sure to love and dot on you. He draped you in fine silk, with beautiful chunks of roses at your feet. He kissed your hands, both of them equally. He kissed the ring on your finger, then flipped your hand and kissed your wrist. Your veins, and up, up, up...
Dottore was more quiet with his affection. Not so loud, yet so vulnerable with you. At long, silent nights, he rubbed at your face with his long fingertips; hardened from so much experimenting. His love was more his than anything. He took care of little things, small problems that itched, and that only he could reach.
One day, it was the date of the original's death. You went calmly to the graveyard, and paid your respects as usual. Once you were back home, you decided to go to your lovely spouse, Pantalone. In days like this, neither of you liked to talk to Dottore. It was a sensitive moment that Omega just didn't posses the humanity to comprehend so.
You found your spouse sitting at the edge of his bed, your bed also. He was facing the wall with so much intensity, as he did not heard the door's creak when you opened it.
"... Darling?" You asked out loud as you walked closer to him. Your steps echoed in the long space of the room. You watched as Pantalone slowly looked back at you, his shoulders, always steady and ready for you to lie on them, now trembled just slightly under your gaze. His face was bare, no glasses in sight.
"Ah..." Pantalone whispered in realization. He brought his hand up to wipe at his eyes, then murmured back to you in that always composed tone of his. "Welcome, my treasure.. how was the visit?" You saw how his hands shifted amxiously on his lap, like ready to hide something, and that was when you realized.
Pantalone had some kind of long... book on his lap. "To keep memories intact! You can never trust the human mind as much as a book, he said when he bought it for you three. Your eyes drifted to it, and you heard Pantalone curse. But not at you. Oh never at you.
Pantalone patted the space next to him with a small, tender smile. You sat down, and he wasted no time in hugging you.
Pantalone was offering something. A tender and vulnerable moment on his chaotic life; he knew it was small, but it was something. You see that expression on his face, vey rare for an occupied business days.
He let go of you after a few seconds, but his hand remained securely on your back.
"I was.. observing some old pictures, my beloved." Your eyes drifted to his lap, where the book was at. He grabbed your hand, and spoke as he kissed it.
"You always get so.. sad, whenever the day comes. I see the light of your face wash off whenever the date arrives."
"So i.. " he pressed another kiss on your hand. "I thought we could take look at this. Together. It contains a bunch of pictures of ... him."
At the end of the book, Pantalone's head was resting on your lap. A rare moment of tenderness that he allowed himself to have by exposing out his heart.
Your fingers, so untoched compared to your spouses, carefully threaded through his hair. His mouth sung out a lullaby that didn't fit with the tone of his voice, but at the same time, it was so him. Your expression remained affectionate under his closed eyes, but you fully knew he was still watching you.
You leaned down and pecked his cheek, breaking the lullaby he sang. You chuckled, he did too. You pecked him once more, his forehead and his lips. But this time they brought you something rare.
A red peeked from his ears, and you had to take a second look make him realize.
"Oh, uhm," he murmured with an akward chuckle. "Well, after so much time, perhaps i am still not inmune to your charms."
The next day, Dottore saw you both. You looked giddier than usual, whenever Dottore raised his tone, grumpy like usual, you just weren't... there. Like your head was in a dream that you were not willing to wake up from. And Pantalone? That man wasn't any better. He looked surprisingly refreshed, as if he just had the best bath of his life.
"Hey, what is going on between you two?" Dottore pointed out accusingly. "You're both.. stupidly giddy, and for what i have observed, your dopamine leves are higher than usual,"
'"Are you both hiding something from me?"
You both shook your heads.
"My, my... are you jealous, perhaps? I wouldn't have dreamed of it."
You merely watched as Dottore gritted his teeth. You smiled, hid it beneath your hand. Pantalone patted the seat next to him on the couch, and Dottore, very much against his will, sat next to Pantalone.
"Did you eat chocolate? I've heard it makes humans quite happy.. any sweets?"
"Well, i sure eat a plenty of sweets." You teased back with a giggle, and Pantalone could only pat your back, as he was discreetly laughing too. Dottore merely swatted at both of you.
She wrote a hit about him. Now he’s out to prove her wrong.
Long Drabble
Warnings: SMUT🔞, cursing, dirty talk, just explicit shit
//
“Is Manchild really about Soldier Boy?”
That’s the only question asked since the single dropped. It wasn’t a coincidence that two weeks after being spotted at a restaurant together, she released a diss track about childish men. It was catchy—women sang along, copying the little dance she came up with, laughing about how incapable he was—sorry, how incapable men were.
Soldier Boy was fuming.
There was no escape from the reminder of his supposed shortcoming when every radio station, fan, and Vought employee had the tune on a loop. PR couldn’t or wouldn’t touch it because of the insane popularity. The shaking intern tried to convince him that no one could possibly think it was about him, but there was no convincing him. No matter how much shit he destroyed or who he threatened, she wasn’t going away. So, he would have to fix it himself.
Swallowing his pride, he invited her to his place for a drink and a chat.
//
She arrived on time—hair curled, dress short, perfume sweet. A wet dream in the flesh—if she wasn’t the one behind his current ego-bruising nightmare. His assistant had drinks and dinner ready. No distractions, just straight to the point.
“Wow, you actually can wear something else,” her comment nearly threw off his game, “That whole outfit you showed up in last time? God, I hope that was ironic.”
He cleared his throat, letting her inside to have a seat on the leather couch, “You seemed real impressed last time.”
“You thought I was impressed? You showed up in a Halloween costume and expected me to swoon?” she raised an eyebrow.
“That costume’s seen more wars than you’ve had hits,” he sat down across from her, “You gonna keep giving me fashion tips or you wanna explain the song?”
She shrugged, taking another sip, “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Cut the shit, doll. It’s not as cute as you think,” Soldier Boy knocked back his Manhattan, “We both know you wrote it about me. I thought we had a great time. Didn’t hit the sheets, sure—but it was still a good time.”
“Please. The only one having a good time was you,” she scoffed, “All you did was ramble about yourself. Your head was so far up your own ass, it’s a miracle I understood you at all.”
He rolled his eyes as she continued.
“When you weren’t talking about all the wars you won, you wouldn’t shut up about everywhere you’ve stuck your dick. Women don’t want to hear about what Rita Hayworth’s pussy tasted like. It’s not impressive—it’s sad.”
“Christ on a cross,” he snorted, “You done?”
The look on her face said she was just getting started.
“Your only redeeming quality is your face. It’s a shame you’re probably a shit lay under that macho man persona.”
That hit a nerve. His grip tightened on his glass, jaw flexing as his stare hardened. Her mouth had been cute up to this point. She’d pushed it too far.
He leaned forward, the glass hitting the coffee table with a sharp clatter. “You talk too much,” he said evenly.
She rolled her eyes, “Why did I even come here? Sexy but dumb. Just like I said.”
A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. His eyes slowly traveled up her legs, “Hell of an assumption that I’d blow my load early like some fuckin’ kid with his first nudie mag.”
She set her jaw as she recrossed her legs, flashing a glimpse of a her red lace panties.
“I’m a lot of things, doll,” his gaze flicked back to hers, “but a shit lay ain’t one of’em.”
//
Her scream of ecstasy echoed outside the room as she came again. Soldier Boy was thrusting so hard, so deep inside her, she hardly remembered the reason for being there. The only thought passing through her mind was how good he felt inside, never wanting to forget the burn of his cock stretching her out.
“You ready to admit I’m right?” he huffed, his grip keeping her hands locked behind her back.
She couldn’t form words, but the gleam in her eye told him she wasn’t about to admit anything.
“I can go all night, honey,” he chuckled, “I’ll make sure you feel me every time you sing that goddamned song.”
He suddenly took her by the throat, yanking her back to his chest and pressing his free hand to her lower abdomen. She squealed and writhed as the new angle and pressure had the tip of his swollen cock rubbing directly into her sweet spot. She clutched the hand at her stomach, the other thread into his soft hair, pulling his mouth closer.
“You want a kiss after all that shit you were singin’ about? Not a chance,” A low chuckle left him, “Fuckin’ greedy, doll. Three times wasn’t enough for you?”
She clenched around him, hips pushing back into his rhythm. It was becoming overwhelming, but she wasn’t about to cave in just yet. She needed one inkling that she got to him before she let herself go—again.
Turning her face towards his, she nipped his bottom lip, pleading, glassy eyes meeting his, “Please.”
His groan rumbled up her spine as he hesitantly chased her lips, “Fuuuuuck! Do that again.”
A weak smirk spread across her lips as she contracted again, flicking the tip of her tongue over his lip. He caved and smashed their lips together. It was all teeth and tongue—a show of dominance even as he gave in to her sweet request.
Her cries were muffled by his insatiable kiss, nails dug into his scalp as the high began to peak again. Pride bloomed in his chest as he felt her body begin to quiver. The hand on her stomach trailed down her body, callused fingers circling her clit.
“Ngh—fuck! Oh my god—wait, wait…st—No…Keep going! Don’t stop! OH MY GOD!”
Wetness splashed the bed and their thighs as she screamed. His thrusts never stopped, never wavered, wrecking her with insane pleasure. His arms were the only thing keeping her from collapsing.
“Didn’t know you had that in you, huh?” Soldier Boy growled, grip on her neck tightening possessively, “Hang tight, doll…I’m not done yet.”
She numbly shook her head, her body was exhausted, but he wasn’t having any of that. “Nuh uh. Take it,” his snapping hips began to lose their rhythm.
Their lips met in a messy kiss as he came deep inside her, groaning and growling like an animal, feeling the way her sensitive walls fluttered uncontrollably.
Both collapsed, his heavy body pinning her shaking one to the mattress. He pulled out and rolled over, reaching for a forgotten joint and lighter on the nightstand. When the smell of weed hit her senses, she turned over, plucking the joint from his lips.
She took a long drag, angling the exhale up before speaking, “I’ll hand it to you. You’re not that bad.”
He smirked as he took the weed, “Honey, you just flooded my whole damn bed. Not that bad doesn’t begin to cover what I just did for you.”
With a sweet giggle, she let her lips linger on his shoulder before giving it a playful nip, “You’re an okay lay.”
He gave her a look as smoke blew out of his nose.
“Alright, alright! You were abso-lutely incredible,” her voice held a hint of sarcasm, but he’d take it.
robby is a sick and twisted pervert. and he knows it. ever since you started at the so called 'pitt' he's had his eye on you. hes had his eyes all over you. kiara even pulled his aside once to ask if there was something she needed to know about. but no, nothing ever happened. till now.
well, i guess nothing technically 'happened' between the two of you. everyone knew you had been seeing one of the nurses, james, from the night shift. it wasn't serious, just casual. you were hardly on the same shift, maybe once every few months. today was one of those rare shifts. you had had an okay shift so far, it was quiet, boring. so you snuck off with who santos calls your 'boy toy' to an abandoned room to fill the time.
so there you were, getting fucked on a hospital bed that probably hadn't been used in two year for anything other than sex. it was just a bit of fun really. he wasn't the best fuck but he was good enough. it was then, mid fuck, that robby walked in. he stopped in the doorway, in shock. james had his back to the door so he didn't falter, didn't realise who was at the door. you gasped, looking robby in the eye, suddenly it all felt better. you filled with shame, looking your boss in the eye whilst getting fucked wasnt meant turn you on more than the guy who's actually fucking you. fuck.
you were going to say something, tell james to stop, turn around. but you started getting closer. you couldn't stop now. so you looked your boss, your very attractive boss, in the eye, and you came. then he just walked out.
robby was disgusted with himself. he was stood in the doorway of a room, watching his subordinate get fucked. his subordinate that was 25+ years younger than him. and he was turned on like crazy. he walked down the abandoned corridor palming at his hard cock through his scrubs. he felt like a pervert, a huge fucking pervert. all he could think to do was go to the nearest toilet and jerk off to the thought of your face.
he couldn't even bare to look at you for the rest of the shift. and you couldn't bare to look at him. but you couldn't stop thinking thinking about him.
summary: Remembering the aftermath of last night lays heavy on your mind. After some contemplation, you revisit your apartment.
warnings: none!
a/n: hihii super long chapter for u guys so chill like a shrub and grab some grub
After about 20 minutes of debating with himself about whether Alex should join you in his bed or not, he had come to the conclusion that he would. You guys have cuddled in his bed countless times! What's so different about this time? Oh, maybe the fact that he was practically studying the way that you were grinding on a guy just hours prior to this. Alex genuinely tried to be stealthy about this, really he did at least try. But, his clumsiness fails him yet again. On his way to his room, he stubs his toe. He lets out a strained “fuck” at the feeling. As if that wasn't enough, his floors were hardwood and creaky as hell for no reason due to renovations and partly because he bought an old house because he was just infatuated with the way that it looked. When he successfully made it to his room without making any more excessive noise, he peered in and saw you sleeping. He stepped in the room, being as quiet as humanly possible. You were bundled up in the cream coloured duvet. You looked so… at peace? comfortable? Alex didn't even know if there was a word close enough to describe how pretty you looked. Thankfully, you were only on one side of the bed so it was relatively easy for him to climb in after he changed into his pajamas. As he climbed into the bed he heard you stir a bit but you didn't wake up. After he successfully got into the bed now came the task of getting under the comforter. He wiggled himself up enough, now his back was against his headboard. He pulled the duvet back, slipped back down and was successfully in the bed. What's the worst thing about this situation? Oh, maybe the fact that Alex can't go to sleep without holding something. Pillow? Sure. Stuffed animals? Sure. Big blanket? Sure. Human? Definitely. You? Always. Thankfully, your back was towards him so it was relatively easy for him to spoon you. You stirred slightly and Alex froze. Unbeknownst to your conscience, you laid back and relaxed against his chest with no issues. Alex slung an arm around your waist and was basically hugging you at this point. Before the sleep caught up to Alex, he whispered a quiet, “get some rest, cariño.”
When you woke up, the thought of last night was a blur. You went to a club, danced on somebody, caught Alex staring at you, came home and then fell asleep in his bed. Before your body could register it, you felt somebody behind you. Was it the guy from last night? Was it somebody else? Was it Alex?- no! It can't be Alex? Can it? You slowly looked behind you and before you knew it you saw Alex with his arm hugging your waist and his face pressed up against the side of your neck with his breath slowly tickling your collarbone. What!? How in the world could you have ended up in the bed with Alex of all people? You guys couldn't have…? No, you would definitely have enough thought to stop that. But, if it happened, would you stop it? As your thoughts ran rampant, you decided that it would probably be good to get out of Alex's bed and go to your own room and get ready for the day. You slowly slipped out of Alex's touch and replaced your body with a pillow (because of course you know his sleeping habits too.). You gathered all your belongings that you left behind in his room last night when you decided to fall asleep on his bed. After gathering your things you slowly exited his room and went to yours. You decided that you would try to go to your apartment today without Alex's help. After getting ready and throwing on an outfit that consisted of a simple t-shirt and some baggy light wash jeans, you decided that it was time to head out. As you left the house and locked the door (because of course you had his only spare key.), you got in your car and started it. As the engine purred you decided that it would be best if you texted Alex where you were going just in case he woke up before you got back.
You || 10:03 AM.
going to the apartment rn, be back soonnn!
With the chime of your phone to signal that it sent, you were off. As the radio played some new pop song that you and alex have probably listened to a thousand times together, quietly in the background, all you could think about was alex and where your relationship lied right now. After everything that happened last night and finding him practically slouched on you this morning when you woke up, you didn't know what to think about all of this. Did you have feelings for him? Did he have feelings for you? He did say that you were pretty last night before you guys left for the bar, and he did whisper something to you last night that you couldn't quite catch. As you pulled into the parking lot in front of your apartment you checked your exes location because apparently he forgot to take you off of his life360. “Xxxx, at ‘Moms’, here for 3 days.” perfect, that's exactly what you wanted to see. You walked up the stairs of your complex and stepped in front of the door to your apartment. You slowly slotted the key into the deadbolt lock and slowly unlocked the door. Stepping inside the smell of stale air hit you like no other, you were planning on moving back in soon but didn't really feel ready just yet. You immediately went to your room to just grab clothes and some necessities, nothing extra. You see that the door is cracked so you push it open and lo and behold there he is in all of his glory, with another girl cuddlied up into his side with her shirt off. What the hell! You stand and contemplate for a minute about what to do and you come to the conclusion that you need to just get in and get out. You slowly make your way over to the closet and start getting some clothes, not making any noise that you don't need too. You heard stirring and froze. After the slight stirring died down you continued getting your clothes. You only grabbed a couple shirts and a pair of jeans and a pair of leggings. You peeked out of the closet and realized that someone was missing from the bed and the bathroom door was closed. You made sure that this mission was very very timely. You made a point to be just as silent on the way out as you were coming in. As you were walking down the hallway you heard the shower turn on, thank god for the extra noise. As you’re walking out, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You ignored it until you got to your car.
alexxx ♡♡ || 10:19 AM.
mkay, call me if u need me to come over. can we talk when u get home? ily
CW: Angst, OOC Dex, violence, dark themes, power dynamics, morally grey characters, etc.
This Idea
Author’s Note: Hi! As an important detail, this story has been inspired by movies like “Black Widow” and “Ballerina” from the John Wick series. Feedback would be appreciated and thank you so much for checking out my work as always. - V. 💜
=========
When drifting between countless shadows over and over again, your footsteps meet corners without detection. Who the hell remained sober enough to check windows after sunset? The city might as well drown through darkness.
Invisible. You were nothing short of invisible. It’s better this way, especially when hiding between sidewalks as the world nearly sprinted in all directions. Thousands of folks helped you blend without ever recognizing such an unknown secret.
You’re not supposed to be here. You’re not supposed to be alive, let alone traveling between locations like this. Every suitcase. Every plane ticket. Every hotel led closer and closer to the dingy yet vital apartment that you found this evening.
No one smoked on the fire escape. Sneaking inside, you passed the rear and your enemy didn’t wait in the living room, most likely restless in bed for the millionth time this week. This man doesn't sleep much, if at all, quietly haunted by the ledger of his own crimson past. Unlike others, you don’t care, still lurking forward.
From the bedroom door, the plan is simple: Eliminate your target at night. No emergency lights. No games. Leave without trails and never look back, taking out one of the most dangerous criminals on earth. Redemption won’t “save” the beast.
Pointerdexter. Orphaned, trained by Quantico and marching around Wilson Fisk. This man stood like an absolute recipe for disaster while mayhem hit your desk. You’re not good or bad either, yet standing in the middle without joining authorities. Even civilian justice won’t be enough to describe your plans.
But the door opened before you could turn back, caught by another silhouette as his lean yet muscular frame revealed scars in the dark. The barrel of his own pistol forward, ready.
“Who are you?” His accent, not strong enough for the boroughs you’ve known so well, pulled venom.
“Your worst nightmare. Put the gun down and let me handle business.” Defending yourself, there’s no other choice.
“Seem pretty confident without your own weapon.” Dex chuckled, almost circling you like sharks around blood. “You’re not better than me.”
“I am.” You continued. The debate won’t stop. “You’ve killed innocent people.”
“Look around. No one is innocent anymore.” Dex went on, almost baiting.
No surrender? Fair enough. Just when you prepared to battle him up close, another gunshots crossed the sky and shattered windows, buckling your stance moments later as you dropped against the wooden floor.
Shit!
Chaos erupted on the street, but arrogance nearly splintered when Dex looked ahead . One of the bullets hit your leg and spilled blood. Balance split down the middle again. Could Dex save you, leave this apartment behind or save himself at all? With each passing moment here, who knows what else could happen next?
Sirens wailed out loud moments later, only worsening his thoughts. Could law enforcement turn up the blame and land Dex behind bars again? His nerves moved higher and higher as you bled out, still gritting through horribly warm pain.
You could die without help. You could die without him, especially when left untreated. As bedlam stirred over the damaged window, Dex pulled himself together and hoisted you out, almost running between shadows to head outside.
Your body, limp from exhaustion between flashing lights and broken glass, almost huddled against Dex’s chest as his voice called out, looking for anyone to help. Though you’ve tried to destroy him, your life stood in the balance. No matter what burned some time ago, Dex still knew that people deserved another chance.
Upon realization, the medics scrambled and hoisted this gurney without fail, slamming both doors and wailing down the streets, counting every second.
Despite everything, Dex would never forgive himself if you didn’t survive.
parent teacher conference? he's showing up 20 minutes early, is taking notes of what the teacher is saying, asking about the best tutors for his sweet child to make sure they're getting the best and most out of their education. he's also low-key grilling the teacher with questions about their lessons and teaching style, secretly testing them to make sure they're good enough to teach HIS child.
city council? he knows exactly what roads need to be fixed first and has the best ideas for community development initiatives.
school board? has done all the research about what changes to make in the curriculum and how to help with teacher shortages.
hoa meetings? has the cleanest yard in the neighborhood (no fines EVER, the other dads are so jealous), is helping raise money to put in a new pool so his kid can swim, and is always the first to volunteer for neighborhood watch.
he's always there. those administrators know him and HATE to see him coming. deep down, he enjoys going off on those idiots trying to raise taxes or cut funding for the school's art program- how dare they not appreciate the arts and refuse to fund them as much as the sports program? arts are just as important as sports!!
he's got a clipboard and notepad and knows more about the meeting topics than the people running it. he's got a list of grievances to air out and is gonna make sure everyone not only knows about it, but will actually do something about it.
aside from his grievances, he always has the best answers and opinions from his research and is always looking to help out his family and community in any way he can... he just won't admit it.
Ayleen meeting Dead as Disco for the first time... And her dad...??
The girl is being led inside a high building, and then into a elevator that takies them up, almost all the way to space in her opinion. But it stops, and they get out from the elevator, and Ayleen almost trips over her feet when the AI bots urges her to be quicker. They can see a door further away, the faint sound of arguing voices can be heard coming from there.
Looks like the door isn't fully closed. Normally it would be soundproofed, but clearly not for now, as it is possible to hear the voices belonging to Hemlock and Dex being in their heated argument, which is nothing other than...
"The #### is wrong with that bony head of yours??" Dex growls that to Hemlock who is facing him, no real facial expression from the skeletal head of him visible, but his reply and tone is obvious on what mood he is in.
"Nothin's wrong with me! I'm not the one who's head is filled with nuts and bolts! Like you're one to talk, edgelord!"
The girl listens to the angry voices, looking less tense now, and almost relaxed as they gets closer to the door. One of the bots knocks on it, but they don't get any reaction from it as the arguing continues on. Ayleen tries to peek through the door, but she sees no one yet.
"I say whatever I want andthink, and You you piece of ####. I know one thing for sure, and that is that... Salt is NOT a spice!! And I can't beieve that I'm having this ####ty conversation with someone like YOU!"
"No one is forcing you to! Why don't you go and stick your ####ing ### in a-"
"AHEM!" Can they suddenly hear coming from the entrance where one of the AI bots has decided to enter, making the other 2 stop their bickering. The others who has been silent during this are now moving their attention to the bot, Prophet instantly walking over there, looking suspiscious, also giving the other bandmates a glare because the door wasn't locked... AGAIN. Hemlock tries to look innocent, but gets pushed by Dex. He of course pushes him back, like this is one of the regular things happening.
"What do you want?" Asks Prophet the bots, while he notices a little movement behind them, seeing that it is a kid. ´Why is a child doing here? There haven't been anyones around since Charlie was a tiny brat.' Does the man think at the same time. Dex and Hemlock has gotten closer, their earlier arguing is forgotten for now, as they try to take in the situation too.
Charlie in other hand approaches the bots, and thus also the young girl, trying to get a look at her. A small redheaded girl with curly hair and green eyes, her wearing a simple black tshirt, and a red skirt together with black leggings and red sneakers.
"Hey, who is this little one? A fan?" Asks Charlie, and looks excited. She yelps and backs a bit, still being unsure, but keeping her attention to them. The others who were cursing and stopped doing that makes Ayleen a bit dissapointed. She wanted to learn more swearwords. But there might be chances for that later. She however takes a short breath before she leaves the spot behind the bots, straightens her posture to look and feel more brave.
"I'm Ayleen Murray, and my dad lives here." Does she say, making them react indifferent ways. Prophet raises one eyebrow. Charlie gasps and looks at the others, trying to figure out what she means, because himself can't be the dad... Right? "Say what?? He does? It's not me, is it?" *Him now looking at Ayleen and then the bots who are just standing there, not showing any emotions. Who is she talking about...?
Ayleen raises one hand, and then points at where Hemlock and Dex are standing. The cyborg looks sceptical first, because he would never-
"No way, are you saying that-" Dex gets a more shocking expression now, and the cyborg stares at Hemlock who in other hand seems curious, but not getting what it means yet. Until the polett falls.
"Wait... Is she pointing at me? ME!? WHAT THE ####???" *Now the rebel punk flinches and stares down at the little girl. This is nothing that he is prepared for, and neither is anyone in the band....
To be continued...
