★
Send my muse a “★” and they’ll admit their first impressions of your muse.
((I got a little carried away xD))
Sasha sent him several letters talking about her time in training and about the folks in her class. She yapped on about amazing folks like Reiner, the big “Team Dad,” or Armin, “Mr Smarty Pants,” and about some incredible occidental girl (My-Casa? or something like that?). Still, he couldn’t help but notice her fixation some fella named Jean. ”Hotshot, jerkass, show off, ace, know it all, horseface, etc…” Did she like this guy? Was he amazing? He as a little anxious and a little upset about the prospect of meeting this guy as he continued on his journey to visit his daughter.
…
Some green cloaked punk with a gun stopped him in his tracks. Pointing a musket straight at him, the kid snarled: “Hold up gramps! This area’s restricted! Who are you and why are you here?”
The old man twitched in irritation but continued calmly: “I don’t mean ya no harm, son. Jus’ lookin fer my lil girl. She’s Scoutin Legion just like all y’all. Her name’s Sasha and I’m her Pa, Mr. Braus y’hear?”
"Sasha Braus? Hahaha!" the boy laughed. "I knew that she was from the backwoods but I never thought that her family would be such hicks!" He turned and began to shout, "Yo Sasha! You were supposed to be watching the trail too, you lazy bum! Are you sulking over that bread you tried to steal, you damn Potato Girl? Some redneck grandpa is here to see you!"
Sasha rushed out from the bushes and blurted, “Jean! Wait!! Could you please not point that firearm at my father?!”
The old man paused. ”This is Jean? This snot-nosed punk with the gall to call my daughter stupid nicknames right in front of me? This is the guy?? What’s up with his hair? Why is it two colors? Is it some uppity city boy thing?” he thought. ”Heck, his snark alone gives me an itchin ta knock him down a peg or two. Ain’t no way my Sasha’s gonna do anythin with this here punk, ‘less it’s whuppin him to teach him a lesson! What a dick!”
