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"Yeah, why wouldn't they believe me. You think I don't look trustworthy?"
-> They are no less irritable at the thought than him; they take a deep breath and pinch their nose.
"No. That's a far more drastic solution--- just. I can get it when he's not looking."
@sinefinemors from ask.
@sinefinemors followed -
His brow raises briefly before turning to the other, bowing slightly. "Forgive me, I am not familiar with your attire. But it is always a pleasure to make an acquaintance."
@sinefinemors continued from here.
Cor had warned him that Mors could be a little...eccentric and he wasn't wrong. The grip on his face hurt as the man's fingers dug into his cheeks but he made no attempt to stop him. When he was finally released, he straightened in an attempt to mask his momentary shock.
"Why thank you. It's not every day you get such a compliment from royalty," he replied with a smile before bowing his head. "Richard Grayson, Your Majesty. My friends call me Dick, but you can call me Cor's replacement if you wish."
As Mors moved towards his closet, Dick turned his back to him to give him some privacy. He knew that if he was in his position, he wouldn't want someone watching him all the time. It was his job to protect Mors, not to impose on him.
"If that is what you wish, Your Majesty." He didn't mind escorting him. He'd just have to be that little bit more vigilant since there would be more people around. "You do realise you outrank him, right? He can't stop you from going into town if you want to."
bonus:
|| @sinefinemors from this failed offer of friendship ||
|| || Well, Kuja thought, fangs bared and caught by the hair, he probably should have expected this. It wasn't as though he hadn't been warned by all the salacious gossip, by the way the man himself dressed like the villain of a stage play. By all accounts, he had gone rummaging through the cooling box and opened the bag labeled 'dead dove'.
“Ugh, please!” he snapped, turning away from this vile fellow to primp his poor, abused, feathery locks. Not cruel, indeed. “Do you think everyone who approaches with generous and valuable offers of friendship is just out to use you!? Are you really that unpalatable?”
This was not going to plan at all. He’d been read like a book. How sorely had he underestimated the keen eye of this target? “...If I must cut to the chase, I have been here in this freezing holy dump for three days with no permanent accommodation. It’s cold. There are too many stairs and no elevators and frankly, you seemed the easiest wealthy target to try and charm a room out of.”
“Surely you must have space aplenty, being so unpopular.”
Maru @ Mors rn
-Flees-
@sinefinemors : ‘ forever isn’t for everyone ’ [the arctic monkeys sentence meme]
“Oh, you poor, bloody sods will tell yourselves everything, won’t you?”
He didn’t hide his resentment. Garleans and their affiliates all look the same to him. They smell the same to him. Their stench is one he’d not forget. This encounter alone left him hurling, itching to kill and pull out his scythe even if it could spell his death right here and now. So long as his pride isn’t swallowed, he’ll remember their folly. Naught in the world could really steer him clear from having violent intent, conscripted or willfully.
“So, how is it? Being a cocksucker for Garlemald?”
ANONYMOUS ASKED: What do you think of Mors? Do you think he’s a good guy? Do you think he’s got a weird background? Does anything strike you as odd or does he seem fine to you? Would you stay with him more permanently if he asked you to? Would you ever actually marry him like he asked you all that time ago? MENTION: @sinefinemors
He could barely keep up with all of the questions, the deep furrow of his brow perfectly telling of his instant agitation. The very last thing he wanted was to be absolutely bombarded by so many queries, especially when attempting to keep warm when the ferocity of a storm front was beginning to arrive.
“Y’ a righ’ nosey bastard, ain’ y’-?” His voice mirrors his irritability, preferring to keep his energy (what lithe amounts he has-) for shivering and attempting to remain alive that night; but mayhap, to pass the time, he would entertain a handful of the questions asked.
“I think he’s hidin’ a lot’ o’ weird shit.” There was always that feeling around Mors, one of only seeing the tip of the iceberg, so to speak; that... apparently sentient doll, for starters. That wasn’t normal- at least, he had never seen anything akin to the sort before and thus the feeling of not even knowing a decimal of it had settled within his breast. “Think he’s capable o’ a lot o’ weird shit, too - no’ th’ kinda guy y’ would wanna meet in a dark alley--” And Auri knew the sort well, he was one of them.
“I don’ know shit about him.” Nothing he would share, anyway; naught of Mors’ mentioned family, children - such offerings remained sealed deep within his consciousness, unspoken. “So I ain’ gonna expand there.”
The final two queries have him roll his eyes and settle back against the chill of the stone wall behind him, shivering growing more immense by the moment for the cold was beginning to seep into bone.
“Maybe.” Shoulders rolled back, a long sigh exhaled; “- Can’ see why he’d wan’ a fuckin’ cretin like me fuckin’ up his space. He’s go’ a nice home n’ I’d jus’ ge’ soot everywhere...” He wasn’t sure of the last time he washed his hair, for all he knew the black was down to the filth within it and not its natural colour.
“N’ I ain’ a good enough citizen t’ qualify f’ a marriage licence.” Though he lingers no longer upon the thought.
