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@vermillionvisions
Over the river and through the woods
independent, selective, mutuals and 18+ only rp blog. features SCARLET, an oc based in the PKMN UNIVERSE. Penned by Echo (any pronouns, 25+, ESTA ). Mature themes will be present and tagged.
DING! DING! DING!
The sounds flew over Octavius’ head. He was, after all, in a chase with his own phone. He knocked into pieces of furniture, almost toppled on his face at once point, in his bid to catch the little bastard.
“She’s replied!” his rotom sputtered out between bursts of mechanical, jittered laughter. Octavius paused and growled, a sound that was far too guttural for a human to muster. His brows knitted, carving an ireful furrow between them, as he could feel his teeth starting to elongate. Heat brewed and bubbled within him like a witch’s cauldron, just needing the slightest ingredient to overflow and burn everyone and everything in his vicinity.
Thankfully, for both of them, in a sudden feat of athletics—scaling of his couch and thrusting himself into a leap, he managed to catch his phone mid-jump. Swift the little ghost was to separate from the machine, giggles spilling aplenty. Octavius huffed. He felt his teeth retract.
“Stupid modern fuckin’ pokémon…”
Octavius plopped himself against his couch. He grumbled, squinted, and read the message. Apparently, she found it hilarious. Now, he couldn’t be quite sure if that was hilarity with or without scorn, but …
He tapped at his screen slowly with a single forefinger.
no sorry. that was my rotoms faultt. it hates my ass because im bad with tech and ask it too many questions. very opinionated
Sent.
He lolled his head back against the couch and heaved a loud, dramatic sigh.
Her response goes unanswered for a bit, and with a shrug of her shoulders she momentarily abandons the conversation. She flits around her home, watering plants, offering gentle pats to her Pokemon that lounge in various areas of the home, sets the kettle on the burner for a hot cup of tea.
Eventually does she wander back to her abandoned phone, seeing a few messages. She flicks through them in a bored fashion, until she sees that the man has answered. She swipes it open, eyes scanning over the message.
Quite immediately she can tell this was typed by him, the spelling mistake, the sheer amount of time it took to craft the message at all. Her eyes settle on a specific part of the message: I'm bad with tech.
"No kidding," she murmurs. She assumes the photo to have been taken by himself, but perhaps out of embarrassment to blame it on the rotom. Not that she particularly cared, it was funny... And also now his photo in her phone. Every time he contacted her, that lovely selfie would pop up, tickling her funny bone each time her eyes laid on it. Even now her mouth is curled into a grin at the sight of it.
Suuuure it was
She types back swiftly, unable to help but to poke fun at him.
Anyways! Did you have fun at the event? Truthfully I assumed you to be one of Richie's fans not mine.
It was true. Usually hyper feminine women and children were her main fans, not a gruff scruffy man. Usually if a man was at an event like that, they were a father of a fan, or one of Richie's fans. To have someone like Ozzy as a fan of hers? Quite out of the ordinary.
Red heart shaped homeware
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
Oh, I almost wish he could take it away.
Leon was quick to pretend like that thought hadn't crossed his mind at all, covering it up with lies he told himself every time those words were uttered either in the loneliness of his flat or in his mind where no one but he could hear them. That he loved being Champion, that he wouldn't trade it for the world, that the thrill of the battle and the rush of adrenaline and the pride he saw in his mother's eyes was all he needed.
Those were much kinder stories he told himself when the truth stung just a bit too much.
He clapped the flats of his fingers against his cheeks, as he did when he was preparing for a battle, the action enough to snap him back into the moment.
"Yeah, you're right about that if only because it wouldn't exactly look very good for me or him if I got dropped right after that mess." He exclaimed with a broad grin that betrayed none of his momentary lapses in confidence. "He'll smooth things over no problem." After all, it wasn't his fault that things went badly from the start. Maybe Rose wouldn't be that upset after all, he told himself.
Be optimistic.
Leon sat up straighter, eyes vibrant and full of life once more. It was as if he hadn't been troubled at all with the way he perked up, even if most of it was an act. A well-practiced mask of "fake it till you make it" that was almost indistinguishable from his genuine smile.
As if they had been friends for years, he leaned over, bumping his broad shoulder against Rogue's. "I think the only thing he'll have a hard time smoothing over is if I'm caught while executing your grand escape, haha."
He grinned playfully, gold eyes filled with mischief as if hopeful for the chance to cause a little trouble.
"In all seriousness though, I appreciate you cheering me up. So I'll be cheering you on. And if things go poorly, well, then there's a pub down by Champion Crossing station that I hear is a good place to drown your sorrows at. Piers has sung the praises of their fish and chips, and praise from him is pretty rare." Piers had also sung the praises of the stout there, but Leon wasn't really much of a drinker.
He much preferred nursing a drink for a whole night, while Piers... well, Piers was deceptively capable at holding his liquor.
"I don't think his ability to throw you out has anything to do with timing. Unless you lose, he is stuck with you as you are, no matter what is said. I imagine your fans would riot if you were thrown from your position without losing." That much was true, she was sure. It seemed poor Leon was trapped under Rose's thumb, but she is fairly certain this power he holds over the champion is not as solid as it appears from the inside. It's exactly why his very own rival was able to get away with so much: fans backing him. If one decides to remove them unjustly, there would be protests for certain. Not even Rose could change the demands of fans, regardless of personal feelings.
In fact, it's exactly why Piers remained a gym leader.
"It's quite a safety net, to be as popular as you are you know. Use it to your advantage. You likely have far more power than you realize in these things."
Her laugh sprouts like a Cherrum in sunlight, bubbly and bright as he bumps into her playfully. It really is no wonder he had been such a popular champion, perhaps even the most popular of them all— at least that she is aware of. He really had it all, from an outside perspective; good looking, kind, funny, powerful. She could go on, but she wouldn't.
"My grand escape? Well, simply don't get caught." She teases back, giving him a bump back with her own shoulder. She's quite petite, so she hardly moves him in the slightest with her bump back. She gives another bright bout of laughter, eyes half mooning and dimples appearing on her rounded cheeks.
At the mention of the pub, her laughter slowly fades, and she hits him with an amused look. Was he inviting her out? If so she is quite flattered, but she decides to go a safer route in her response. "Is that where you'll be after such a riveting interview? I wouldn't dream of not accepting an offer from THE Leon Caballero, if that's what it is." Her grin becomes teasing then, face becoming Nickit-like with the expression.
DING!
“She’s replied!”
His phone zipped in front of him, showcasing the message. A simple reciprocated greeting. Okay. That was a start. A small, blue bubble appeared beneath, alongside rolling dots that disappeared then reappeared.
“She’s preparing another message?”
“Yes, she’s typing.”
DING!
Rotom read the second message faster than he did.
Before he had the opportunity to even part his lips, it thrust itself almost flush against his face. A flash, blinding, prompted an eye to narrow and brows to furrow. His vision blurred and swirled, a churn of colours before everything readjusted, becoming sharp and defined.
“What was that for, you fuck?”
A giggle that edged upon the mechanical bubbled up and out from his rotom, its eyes nigh squinted as amusement left it positively snickering. Octavius heaved a hearty sigh, scratched his thick lining of stubble, and reached out for the phone again.
“Whatever. Can I read that second message at least?”
It flashed the screen at him. Not only her second message, but his second message—a photo.
His heart, his stomach, his pride plummeted.
“Oh, you motherfu—”
Her phone pings and Scarlet can only give a smile at the speed of the reply. With the swipe of her fingers the message thread is opened once more, and she met with what must be one of the worst photos she has seen in quite some time. Laughter, bubbly and amused leaves her like coke and mentos, explosive and wild.
She laughs reacts at it, grin stretching wide across her features as she stares at it. Surely he meant it as a joke, right? Then again, he hadn't struck her as a joking type when she had first encountered him...
LMAO
It's truly the only thing that came to mind when she saw it, but she knows very well that she can't leave it at that. No, she had to give more than that...
That's a very... Photogenic picture of you lol
Deft fingers tap away at a fast speed, and she saves the photo to her phone before setting it as his contact photo. Pearls of laughter keep spilling from her lips as she stares down into it. It's utterly hilarious, to her at least. Truthfully she finds it a bit endearing, many men would have taken that opportunity to be a creep.... Instead, she gets a Facebook worthy old man selfie.
A fair deal, she thinks.
❝You shouldn’t bother beautiful women.❞
Indie, selective, Raihan/Kibana from Pokemon SW/SH
Post-game verse main but timeline flexible
AU friendly
7 years of rp experience
18+ Only | Mun is 21+ | Muse 21+
Taking all of my willpower to not log back into my Raihan blog
Get me out of here.
Get me out of here.
Get me out of here.
Eyes of molten gold languidly watched the way her hand moved in fluid, precise strokes. No time wasted; each line instilled with a confidence some might murmur as masterful. However confident she was, it certainly didn’t rub off on him. Nervousness gnawed at his gut, feeling brittle and stabbing.
She asked him if he was a fan. He spent too long thinking about an answer before she chimed in, gratitude feathering his innards. Intensity still enveloped his shell.
“Uh-huh. Uh, thank you—” he pinched the new cigarette loosely between fore and middle finger and his eyes flickered down at the glossy print, where she’d signed her name. Rouge. “—Ro …”
He trailed off. It took him a moment to realise what the collection of numbers at the bottom was; he’d been caught off guard. She flashed him that blinding, playful grin, and—memories whipped him sharp and clean, remembering her. Not the woman before him but someone who shared her face down to a T.
“Hah,” a modest, lopsided smile, showcasing a flash of sharp, sharp teeth, “thanks. I’ll get out of your hair; you looked busy so probably not looking for a big chat but—be in touch.”
Would he be in touch?
Who knew. The words slipped past his lips without wholly meaning to.
He cocked his cigarette in adieu, and slowly turned heel and made his way back to his office. Her smell lingered on the insides of his nose, refusing to disappear.
—
Later in the evening, when he’d since retired to his modest apartment in Postwick, he stared. He stared so much, so long and so hard at the print.
“Rotom?” Octavius shifted in his seat. It groaned; a sentiment probably shared by exactly that whom he called upon. The smartphone zipped towards him, floating and jittering.
This rotom was probably the hardest working rotom in all of Galar.
“Call—no. Text Rouge.”
“Octavius, you don’t have a contact titled Rouge.”
“I—no—I,” he stammered, fumbled, and gauchely held up the print to his phone, pointing at the numbers down the bottom, “here. Can you text this number?”
“Yes, I can, Octavius!” It floated closer to the image, narrowing its gaze at the numbers before promptly spinning around, showing the phone’s glass-finish front to Octavius. “What would you like to say to Rouge?”
He hadn’t thought this far ahead. Maybe something simple, friendly, as opposed to … well. How would the average woman react to some stranger divulging that she looked like a long-lost friend from centuries ago, that he’d became drawn to because of her smell from across almost half the city away? Yeah, probably think him delusional and lusting for her demise, and rightly so.
“Hi.”
His rotom typed in, all lower case, ‘hi’.
“Octavius here. Are you busy? Fuck, no, that’s so fucking … Eurgh.” He dragged his hands down his face, feeling the scratch of stubble along finger and palm. “Fuck it. Let’s start again.”
Rotom erased everything.
“Hi, Octavius here, from earlier. Hope you’re having a good evening.” A beat. “Add a smiley face at the end so she doesn’t think that I’m being weird. Can you make it seem friendly? I don’t want to be … a fuckin’ weirdo.”
The message popped up on the screen, though swiftly edited at Octavius’ behest, and read:
hi! octavius here, from earlier. hope you’re having a good evening :)
“Would you like to send?”
“Send it.”
She is utterly unaware of the internal struggle he was having, the constipation of the brain and repressed emotions threatening to reemerge with each second that passes between the two. He's a bit, well, awkward truthfully in her perception— though not in a bad way, not necessarily. She's certainly met others that were worse, that could scarcely get a word out through trembling lips the moment they were sat before her in the flesh. Hell, she'd even had a couple of fainters.
No, this was a different sort of awkward, stammering and grunting his way through the conversation. It's certainly preferable to others, but soon it seemed his confidence came back, paired with a hooked smirk. She catches a flash of those sharp teeth, and something in her stomach twists uncomfortably for a split second, but it's gone just as quickly as it came.
She's dimly reminded of Raihan with his sharpened teeth when she sees Octavius'... Yet this man's seemed more wild, sharper somehow... Or perhaps it was the sheer number of elongated teeth that brought such a visceral reaction, riddling his mouth like jagged mountain tops.
"Ah, of course." She says as he excuses himself from the conversation, but she has to admit she is a bit pleased with herself. In fact, Scarlet can even feel her rivals eyes behind them burning into her back. It only heightens her appreciation for this encounter, she truly loved to get under Richard's skin just as much as he did her.
Ozzy slips from the conversation easily with a tip of the cigarette, like a gentleman might have a hat, and then he's off. As he slips into the crowd he would hear rapid, annoyed Kalosian from her rival, met with ringing laughter.
—
Hour passed, Scarlet retired to her cabin-like home on the outskirts of Turffield by the time her phone pings. The day had worn on her, makeup and fancy clothes shed for face masks and baths, to ultimately robes and wine. Everything after the autographs had been such a whirlwind, she almost entirely forgot about the handsome man from earlier. Perhaps she had simply assumed he wouldn't reach out, but she was certainly wrong on that front.
Her own rotom zips over, and she takes the phone with a gentle word of thanks, watching as it flies off to occupy a new electronic. Plush lips meet the glass as she sips the red wine, eyes flickeing over the message. It was simple, direct as well. She had to admit, the manor of texting is not what she had ever expected from the man she had met, specifically the exclamation points and smiley face. He had smiled a total of one time, at receiving her number, otherwise he had been cold and stoney.
Just to be sure, she would have to make sure she was talking to him truly. What a shame if he had pawned the autograph and her number was out there... Number changes came on a regular due to overreaching fans, she would hate to have to change it all again— and Richie would surely never allow her to live it down.
Hi there!
The message is sent with a wooshing noise, and she purses her lips. She would have to ask for proof, sooner rather than later, and so she simply bites the bullet. She's sure he would understand the sentiment behind her checking, and, she imagines he would want confirmation just as much as she.
I hope this doesn't come off as rude (or weird) but can you send me a selfie just so I know it's you? You wouldn't believe the number of weirdos that get their hands on my number lol
Sent. Once she's sure, she will feel far more comfortable responding. Plus, he was good looking, so why not get an opportunity to see how photogenic he was?
He knew something was off about the interview when it started. There was just something in the air that left him feeling uneasy about the whole thing the longer it carried on, like he was a lamb being led to a slaughter shed. Leon had tried to quietly get Rose's attention with nervous looks and gestures, but the man had simply smiled and let him stumble blindly ahead.
And when that last question came up, unscripted, he froze, then floundered and every word he stammered out just made it worse. He'd never felt so small before in his life, and Rose was going to be so upset with him later.
Maybe that was what he was dreading more than anything.
Leon looked up at Rogue, his gold eyes full of worry and shining with unshed tears. He tried to smile at her as if he hadn't just been torn apart on national television, but it just fell flat. He couldn't even find the will to fake a smile like he was used to doing.
The gentle pats to his hand and her words were somewhat comforting at least. He just wished he hadn't needed comforting in the first place.
"Haa... Well, being Champion, I probably should have expected something like that... Raihan though. He causes all sorts of trouble, but that's a charm point for him when he's on the air." Leon chuckled softly, gaze dropping back to the floor as he hunched over his knees, arms curling slightly around himself. He tried hard to look as if he weren't hugging himself, not wanting her to feel even more sorry for him than she already did.
She had her own interview coming up, right? He sincerely hoped hers went flawlessly and without any of the tears and anxiety like he was dealing with.
Leon sniffled, lifting a hand to rub at his eyes with the back of a hand. "Thank you though. For trying to make me feel better. I'll be okay... just have to survive the chewing out the Chairman's going to give me, haha." He gave her a grin, this one a bit stronger than his last attempt.
"I really hope things go smoother for you. Though," He gestured vaguely toward the studio doors. "if you need an escape, just say the word and I'll send my Dragapult to trip the breaker or something." Leon chuckled. "Then you can slip away under the cover of darkness and they'll be none the wiser."
It seemed to her, more than anything it wasn't his reputation he was worried about, but the chairman. She didn't particularly know the man— Rose she believed he was called— but she had been under the assumption that he was kind. If this reaction was anything to go by, she gets the feeling that belief was a bit off.
Each laugh is squeezed from his lungs, like attempting to get the last drop of toothpaste from the tube: forced and hollow. There is no genuinely behind it, just dull anxiety. Luckily it seemed her words were able to soothe, like cool water over a burn; not enough to heal but to certainly take the initial sting away.
"One can hope I be so lucky," she murmurs, large brown eyes flickering to the heavy door separating them from the set. "I am not quite so popular as yourself, I'm sure all will be well. I have far less interesting things going on in my life than you, it seems." She seems to appreciate the sentiment though, and she can't deny that while her words were true, there is some nervousness surrounding this up and coming report.
Truthfully, her mind races with thoughts. If they would do that to the champion of the league, why would they not to her as well? Was there any drama that had been circulating she was not privy to? What had her own rival been spewing to the paparazzi? Richie always was opening his mouth and spewing, sometimes, genuine lies just to get under her skin, or to throw the reporters for loops. Half their fans think they're dating secretly because of this, and she gets the feeling she's about to be sprung with the same level of invasive questions as her current compatriot beside her had been.
His words snap her out of her momentarily lapse in attention.
Leon's smile is quite lovely when genuine— not the stock photo smile they two give the cameras, the one splattered on ads and online accounts. It's more crooked, boyish even, though he is far from a boy these days.
"I appreciate the offer of help," she says with a gentle laugh. It would be quite the bold move to cut power in a live interview, but much like a battler she is not one to back down from a challenge, physical or verbal. "If things start to go poorly, I will prepare for lights out." The mental image was a funny one, workers scrambling to get the cameras and lights back into working order. Unlikely however, even if Leon himself is offering.
"try not to worry too much for me, or yourself. You are champion regardless of television blunders, he cannot take that away for one bad interview."
commission for my good friend, echo, of her character: scarlet ( @vermillionvisions ) !
🥀 — do they handle breakups well? & 💔 — their first heartbreak?
Let's talk love
Do they handle breakups well?
I think generally yes! I imagine that the only time she wouldn't is if it was a serious long term relationship, one where she has (maybe foolishly) believed would go much further to perhaps engagement and beyond. I imagine with her profession that she doesn't often seriously date, while she may go on dates it rarely will last due to her own disinterest, money grabbing people, among other things. Truthfully, I think she is more likely to be the one doing the breaking up.
Their first heartbreak
E̸̺̲̲̎̊̏ͅr̸̻͐̄̿̍r̸̳̙̜̄o̷̮̣̩̾̐̿͜r̶̲̳̳͕͋̔̚͠,̶̨̥̙̀ ̶̱͈͛̀̾̕f̶̪̠̦̚͜͝i̵̹͆̊̒ͅͅr̶̙̫̈́ŝ̷͎̺͠t̸̥̄͆ ̸̹̐̕h̵̢̙̗͑̍̽͝ë̶̹̼̟́̐a̵̯͖̿̚̚͝r̷͚͎̩̘̉͝͝͝ṱ̵̑̃̾͝b̵̝̘̆̂ṟ̸̨͎̻̚e̷̘͇̪̎̽̃ȧ̷̛͔͉͊͝ḱ̴̛̯̀ ̷̳̞̣̓ṉ̴̫̯͍̍o̶̱̐̂̌̈t̶̜̬̱̱͝͠ ̷͚͐f̶̫̳͕̝̈o̵̜̽̎ů̶̼͍̪͚̌̀ṅ̶̨̛͍̞̪d̴͈̩̚
R̵̨̪̫̫͙͕̻̜̘̜̀̈́̅͑͑Ȩ̵̢͚͓̥̗̹͓̫̫̖̘̪̫̐̏͛͆̏͝ͅͅD̷̨̧̪̮͕̰̪̼̲͉͔̭͕̯̩̞̻̼̬͓̗͐̉̏͊̏̇̅ͅȀ̵̧̩̣̙̣̲̦̞͙̲̙́̐̆̒̽̄͌̊̎̿͛͗͆̇̓̎̚̕̚̕͜͝C̸̡̧̗̥̳͕̜͇̗̥̦̣̟̖̺̪̗̦̯̣̗̊̓͐̑͛̒͐̔̓͗́͆̐̉̚T̶̡̡̡̮̗̞͓̭̼͚̟̮͙̪̱̳̹͎̖̫̞̞̍̊̄̔̒̍̆́̇͗͂́̍̏͠E̷͚̠̦̰̠̣̽̉̎ͅḌ̵͎͙͖̝̰̰̰͍͍̰̹͕͎̰̓̈́̀ ̵̧͍̟̃̅̿͗R̴̢̬͉͚̗̜̟̙̻͕̲̪͋́͗̓ͅÈ̴̥̹̠̻͎͙͓̩̀͗̏͗̿͆͌̎̈́͑͌̂̀̕̚͜D̷̛͎̼̗̼̠͎́̈́͆̀͋̓̾͑̔̔̾́̓͊͊̚̕Ą̶̗̗̘̭̫̙̝̣̰̗͇̅̑́̒͛̄̂̿̈́͛̄̈̐̓̏̊̕͜ͅC̵̢̛̞̖͕̪̯̗̘̭̩͚̻̰̟͕̹̬̥̠̮̓̉̏̈́͂̽̀́̊͑̅̊͜͠͝͝Ţ̸̛̙̳͙̖̜̱͇̖̞̥͓̫̦̣͇̾̎̋͊̄̀̕͠ͅĘ̶̛͓̫͖͓̗̈́̾̄͂̈́̓͂̅̐͑̾̌̊̂͒̐͐̕̚̚͠ͅḐ̶̼͇̼̩͓͉̰͆̌͌́̅̓́̈́̽̿͐́̾͜͠ ̴͉̟̱̦̻̖͒̄͌͆̑͗̌̎͘͘Ṙ̸̡̡̧̼͕͉̱͍̩̤̗̣̲̬̱͓̲͓̥̒̈́̏̚͜͠E̷̡̧̠͙̤̼̙͎̱̥͕̼͚͗͐̈̑͐͒D̸̡̢̦̮̭̊͋̒̄͆̽̓̒̎̀̑̇́́̄̍̅̚͝͝Ă̷̢̨̡̬̠̱̳̪̯͔̜̣̪̰̲̲̈́͋̌̿̂ͅĆ̵̨͙̝̯͍͇̮͈̣͔͎͕̟̆̋́̈̓͗̇̍̄̈́̇̌̈́͘͝͝T̶̨̛̟̰̮͎̰̲͚͍͉̥̼̔̓̒͑̐̃́͊̉̀̄̆̔̈́̽̿̚Ẹ̷̢̜͈͕̦̝̰͚͙̘̬̲̻̤͂́̈̌̅̑͐̿̒̌̄́̕͠ͅͅḐ̸̞̣͉͎̪̘͖̟̳̱̖͚̺̱͚́̏́
R̸̢̨̧̧̫̹̭̬̲̺͙̫̱͓͙̻̰̫̩͔̼̺͙̬͖̫̹͎̩͉̟͇̣̬̥͐̓͒̊̃̏̈́̄̂͌̋̏̈̈́͊̀̀͐̚ͅͅe̵̛͈̹̻̿͋̈́̇̊̇͛̔͌̿͒͐̇͐͛̓͆͆͂̔̊̍̍̆̀̕̕͘͘̕͘͝b̷̧̢̧̧̛̘̜͇̭̣̝̯͕̳̩̬̜͎͕̻̻͆͗̍͂̄̅͗̐͊͂̏͗̓͆̒͌͗̿̎̈́͋̉̉͘͘͘̚͘͝ơ̶̹̹̜̫̹̗̥͋́́̀̉͑͌͗̚͘ō̵̡̡̨̡̧̟̞̟̜̯͙̹̝͔̰̖̼̺̘͕̼̹̞̜̟͉̘͉̱͙͙͌̓̄̔͊̇͛̆̈͛̀̽̆̀̀̆̍̀̿̾̂̇͒̑́̎̚͘̕̚͝͝ţ̴̛̫̫̠̤̬̥̪̦͇̗̐̀̂̌̈́͒͒͌̾̋̐̑͋͗̔̊̒̾̕͘͜͠͝ͅï̸̢̧̡̨̖̞̲̝͔̻̦̗͍͍̳͖̩͖̖͇̥͈͈̖̞̘̞̫͕͎͙͔̟̦̰̭̭͑͌͌̏̇̆͑͋̾͊̔̋͐̅̕͜͜͝͝͝͝n̷̢̡͍̰͍̫̠̝̭̜̝̩̭͕̥̯͇͕̗̈́͛̀̾̿̉̓̅̌͂͒͂̊͛̑͛̾̌̐̓̈́̓̒̈́̽̀̀͛͆͘͘͜͝g̴̨̡̘̻̤̟̮̳͙̞͉͉̝̗̯͇̗̭̞̮͓̫̩͓̣̫͉̭͕̼̀͑̇̒̌̓̔̎̐̐͊̒̆̄̿̐̚̕͘͜͝ͅ
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Ñ̸̨̡̡̡͔̗̘̫̩͍̖̪̩͙̼̟̱̪̲̝̭̞̦̪̺̯͕͓̣̝͇͎̩͔̤̞͕̲͙͍͉̀̈̋̍͜͜͝ẹ̶̢̧̧̨̡̨̢͉͔͇͙͎̻̙̙̺̟̟̮̝̗̳̥͖̝̼̜̮̞̟͕͚̭̞̰͇͇̦̣͖̖̞͎̲̭̌̓̎̀͗͗̏̽͒͘̕͜͝͠w̷̨̢̛̱̺̫̲̎͗̈̎̋̊̿͝ ̵̧̛̛͍̻͈̤̝̼̭̻̳̱̙͚͔̤̬̩̲̯̦̬̩̪͉͛̀̂̄́̔̽̂̍͂͒͑̎̐̒̍̄͛̈́̾̉̋͋̏͂̐͛̈̂̕͘̚͜͝͠ͅf̷̡̨̢̛̹̣͚͇̬͈̱͙̞̙̳̳̰͚̘͇̹̲̟̩̰̱̪͈͇̰̺͎͔̺͓̟͇̯̘̭͉͉̤́̓͑̅͋̈́͂̀̈́̉͗͋̍͋͐̐̍̏̀͜ͅͅi̴̢̨̢͈̼̱̤͎͈̰̯͖̤̜̺̯̙̙͇͓̥͍̰̟̝̞͇̜̋̇̒̂̊͆͌̀̆͛̇̽̓̾̋͗̐̉̐͛͆̌̏̚̕̕̚͘͜͝ŗ̸̛̙̟͕̣̲̲̘͍̠͎̩̞̗͙̗̠͕̱̜̑̈͂̂̊̈̋̐̎̀̔̃̓̾̋̋́̆̒͗̋̏̿̒̒͘̚͠͠͠s̵̡̟̘͈̻͚̳͍̲̳͙̲̳̬̙͇͔̪̫͎͚͙̱̩̔̍̿̓̿̀̆́̈́͌̎̀́͛̉̔̂͑̈́̀̏̓̀̕̚̚͝͝͠t̵̛̟̀̽͒̈́̽͛͊̈́͋̔̔́͑̈̀̃̏̃̉̿͒̒̌̍͆̌̂̍̈́̒̑͋̂̊̊̅̃͘̚͘͘͠͝͝͝͝ ̷̡̡̡̢͎͍̗̰͇̞͙̲̹͉̠͎̥̰͎̩̤̗̖̺̳̘̪̼̩̺͔̩̯͎̯͇̖͛̋̆̓́̍́́̄͌̀̄̔͆͑̇͑͌̍͐̏̽̕̕͜͜͠͠͝͝͝ͅḩ̴̛͇͍̩̭͚̬̭͚̜̳̗̪̮̱͚̺̳͙̘͔̤͕̭̰͎̯̩̈́̆́̅͆͋̄ͅe̶͍̮̹̲̭̤͈̹̪̖̗͇̝̒̅̎̓͛̎͗́̔̆̈̎̎̕͘ą̴̧̢̧̳̥̤̪̦̗̟͓̜̦͍̭̞̲̩̳̖͈͖̝̞̭̞̹̝̳̲̹̘͈̭̻͈̹͙̮͚͇͔̲̥̣̗̞̟̿̅͊̀͂̈̂̏̏͗͐̓̐́̍͂̿̏͛̋͂̊́̀̿́̋͒͗̅͊̂͑̊̕̕͠͝ͅr̸̨̛̟̱̻͚̲̘̺̠̹͓̺͙͙̟̬̟̯̜̠̤̖̭̣͕͍͍̪̬̱̝̘̱̺̥̳̥͎͊͂͂̇́͑͌͒̏̾̒̓̀͊͊͜͜͜ͅt̷̤͚͔͒͐̋̊͗̅͆̎̒̈͗̿́̊̄̒̀͗̽̎̌̀̅̂͑͘͠͠͝ ̸̤͎̼͙̞̙͉͍̳͚͖̯͔̙̼̫̲̖̅̊̔̎̄́̀̌̋̎͑̓̽̆̒͊̔͂͛͌͘̕͜͜͝͝͝b̵̧̢̨̛̼̘̼̞̩̳̘̤̬͍̞̹̦̦̼̟͚̣̳͖̳̰̱̄͂́͊͛̓̇͋̌̏͑̓̍̈́̅̌̆̊͗̌̔́̊̇̌̃̃͜͝͝ͅr̸̛̛̛͚̖͓͗́͊͐̓͌̎̏̌̊̍̓́͂̇̌͛̽͛͊̒̋͊́̋͊̄̒̈́̐̑̕̕͘͝ḝ̸̨̧̡̛͖̮̙͙̣̜̥͎͖̝̒͂̌̒̌̀̈̑́͆̋̎̀̒̒̆͊̔͑̋̾̈́͘̕̚͝͝͝ä̴̢̨̧̛̛̛̛̯̮̳̙͎͇̭̤̘̻͖̣̳̯̟̫͕̹̣̜̜̤́̔͌̆̒̄̿͛̌̆͗̏̀̀̔̾́͛̎̎̈́̑̏̈́̍̈͆͌̒̂͐͊̆̇̽̈͛̀̑̀̕̚͠͝͝͝k̶̨̲͔͇̒̑̋̀͑͛͒̋͋͌̈́͆́̀̇́̊͋̕̚ ̶̢̨̡̢̧̡̧̡̡͍̯̻̹̣̱͎̰͈̣̻̭̣̲̠͇͙̞͕̤̙̣͖̼̖̟͍̥̙̬̫̭̱̳̲̰̻̭̯̑͌̌͐̐͒͗̌̃̅̾̽͘͘͝ͅf̶̧̨̧̢̧̛͉͕͖̳͙̦̣͈̱͎̫͍̺͈͇͙̜̹͉̥̬̼͓̺̙͍̬̭̠̗̜̟̦͍͈̠̜͓͉̬͍̊̓́̀̐͐̎̀͂̽̂̈́͐̂̍̈́̓͐̅̈́̃͐̋͛͒̾̔̀̈͆̚̚͘͜͝͠͠ͅo̸̢̧̡̨̧̢̧̺̪̪̺̖̮̘̫̯̘͖̰̤̞͓̤̦̠͎̦̝̜̩͍̜̺̻̯̳̯̫̺͖͋͛̔̍̐͐̌̎͒̀̾̓̌̑͆͗̈́̊͂̑̂̅͌̍̓̋̓̽́̂̌̊̚͜͠͝ũ̴̢̢̧̢̮̘̹̘̝̞̭̳̘̬͖̭͓̼̖͕̱͖͎̣̖̳̹̱͍̫̖̱̹͖̭͔̦̣̥̳̹͓̗̱̙̱̥͇̓̎̇̎̃͊͐̄͗̓͜ͅņ̸̢̼̜͍̗͔̳̫̺̮̬͔̜̭͚͎͎̟̗͖̩̼̂̈͘͜ͅḑ̶̨̦͙̖̦̤̠̠̥̞͓͈̦̩͕̪̰̟̼̞͖͙͙̪̥̝̯̳̬̭̏̓͑̈́͜͜͜ͅ
Her first heartbreak was at the hands of her long-term rival, something that anyone who is aware of him would be entirely unsurprised by. Her and Richie had been fast friends for ages, and while their on screen rivalry was no joke to everyone else, it certainly was in many ways one for them. The media portrays them as heated rivals, even sworn enemies but that is far from the case. In fact, they were and still are incredibly close.
Unfortunately, Richie has a penchant for women, regardless of his involvement with one already. While they aren't dating, she had fallen for him in their younger years, roughly around the ages of 20-23. While the feelings were mutual, nothing ever came of it. Richie was a player, and red didn't enjoy playing games. He moved on, unsurprisingly, found a girl with whom he settled down with. It didn't last of course, a dog does not change their ways so to speak. Their marriage crumbled, but things never went back to how they were between they two.
They were better as friends anyways, even if it hurt to admit.
💗 - How long does it take your muse to fall in love? 💐 - What small things go a long way for your muse? What small favors can someone do to get on their good side?
Let's talk love
How long does it take your muse to fall in love?
Truthfully this really depends on the person! If someone is open and genuine, not trying to hide themselves, loyal and honest it could be as quick as about 6 months. Of course, it could take far longer than that. While she might be in love, she's a bit oblivious even to her own feelings. She could be head over heels and she just might think she likes them a lot is all, just "really values them" as a person/friend.
Truthfully, it's more likely everyone around her will know she's in love before she herself does. The more time spent with someone, the quicker she will fall if she's already into them in some capacity. Id say 6-12 months for a minimum, even longer if we are talking how long it takes her to realize/admit to it.
What small things can go a long way for your muse? What small favors can someone do to get on their good side?
I think when it comes to small things, almost none of them are monetary for her. She had enough money that she doesn't need a handout (as she would see it) and will absolutely complain if someone spends money on her.
I think small things would be more in terms of acts of service: offering to carry something for her, help her pick an outfit for an event (or just sit there and nod along as she pulls out 35 different things), to cook her something or do a task for her she really hates to do (dishes, laundry, etc). She also I think would enjoy being able to run routines by another person.
I think most importantly though would be just being able to relax around someone would be nice too, given her popularity in her circuit of work it would be nice to feel like a real person around someone. To be Scarlet rather than Rouge.
💘 - What traits personality-wise are attractive to your muse?
Let's talk love
While I don't think there is a set personality trait/s that will automatically lead to attraction, but I do believe she has something of a type, even if she's not entirely aware of it.
Strength
Now I don't mean just on a physical level, but emotionally and mentally. She likes someone who is able to overcome issues and not crumble into themselves when things go wrong. While she doesn't mind supporting and being there for someone, she absolutely would detest having to be the caretaker role for someone who should be equal.
Humor/wit
This one is maybe the most attractive to her. There's no sense in being with someone who you can't have fun and laugh with. She is someone who likes to have fun, and if she can't have fun with you then she is likely not interested in so much as friendship let alone romance if her (or their) jokes don't land. Quick wit is especially welcome in this regard, and will keep her on her toes, spontaneous laughter is the best kind.
Kindness
Sorry but if you aren't nice, you aren't getting romance. Not to say she doesn't like a jerk, but she likes a jerk with a heart.
Good with kids
This one right here? This is a whole different level of attractiveness for her. She doesn't have children (though her gloom, Beau is very toddler-like) but she does possibly want them in the future if things work out that way. If you can't be nice to a child, something that is a big part of her fan base, then you are entirely out of the running.
Let's talk about romance! Muse questions
💗 - How long does it take your muse to fall in love?
💐 - What small things go a long way for your muse? What small favors can someone do to get on their good side?
💝 - What's their love language?
🍨 - What are expectations your muse has had about love that either was false or impossible to live up to?
💘 - What traits personality-wise are attractive to your muse?
🍓 - Do dates matter to them? Do they often put a big focus on anniversaries, partners birthdays, Valentines day etc?
🌸 - What's their idea of a perfect date?
💖 - What traits does your muse find physically attractive?
❤ - What's something you feel like your muse needs to work on for a relationship to happen or for a relationship to be healthy? Do you think that's possible? Or is it something that'll likely never happen?
💞 - Would your muse ever be opened to a polyamorous or open relationship?
❣ - Are they secretive about their romantic relationships or do they not stop talking about it?
🌹 - If asked to define love what would your muse say?
🎀 - Do they aim to impress their partner often? If they do, how so?
💓 - What are some signs your muse has fallen for someone?
🌵 - How toxic would a relationship be with your muse? Would it be able to be fixed?
💔 - Their first heartbreak?
🌺 - Would they be willing to change any part of them for a partner? If not how far would they be willing to go
💮 - Is your muse the possessive or super jealous type?
💟 - Was there ever a time when they had fallen out of love? What was their reaction to it? How did they handle it?
🥰 - Is your muse good at telling when others have feelings for them?
💌 - How would they confess to their love interest? Would they wait on a confession?
🖤 - What's something that will instantly make them dismiss someone as a romantic partner
🌷 - Are they ever been scared/are scared to fall in love?
💄 - Is there a past relationship your muse wishes they could have changed?
🥀 - Do they handle breakups well?
Not me staring at my old Raihan blog like
That lamentable emotion drove a stake in his heart, and twisted it for good measure, the moment the realisation hit him:
She wasn’t Ruby. While, to him, it was like looking into the mirror of his past, to her, he was just some stranger scrounging for an autograph. There was no recognition in her eyes, no shift in demeanour—he was just a fan. That’s all.
Also, her voice was weird. Held a strange, foreign lilt to it.
He felt pathetic. Like a sopping wet hound trapped in the rain, blinking its eyes piteously at its trainer through the glass. Octavius was sure his expression was as lively as a boulder, tension shifting throughout his jaw; he took a moment to take a short drag of his cigarette, depleting its worth to a narrow stub in an effort to shuck this whirlwind of emotions.
It did little to aid.
“Uh…”
Gods. Fuck. Hells.
“Yeah, to me.” A beat passed, regret latching onto him like trap would unto a starved rattata—painful and immediate. “Name’s Octavius.”
Uh.
That one sound spoke volumes, far more than anything else did. She can tell quite immediately from that that this man— Octavius he called himself— did not come for an autograph, even if he didn't deny the offer. She pops the cap to her marker, a glittering silver, and the felt tip kisses glossy photo paper.
"Octavius?" She repeats, marker scratching against the paper with each stroke of her hand. The signature is practiced, signed more times than her own name by this point. "That is a very bold name." Uncommon for certain, she's met loads of fans but she can say she has never met an Octavius up till now.
"A big fan, are you?" Amusement curls her words at the edges just as much as her lips, and it's quite obvious that she can tell he had little to no interest in her celebrity status. In fact, she's not sure he knew who she was at all with the stare she's receiving. Most fans fawn, were overjoyed to so much as catch her gaze, let alone speak to her; but this man did none of those things, he simply plucked another cigarette out and popped it between his lips the moment the first was discarded.
His eyes however seem to burn into her skin, an intensity that she can't quite explain... Intimate, almost. Her skin prickles under it, yet his face remains stoic and unreadable, causing a churning of her stomach. It's not an unpleasant feeling, but it was a feeling she couldn't pinpoint the origin of, the emotion it elicits dancing just beyond her reach like a Quaquaval. He wants something, but she isn't entirely sure what, so... She makes a guess.
"Because, you know..." She trails off for a moment, and after she finishes the small fan-note, she still continues to scribble. "If you intended to come here just to chat me up, you didn't have to pretend to be a fan." She caps the marker then, and extends the photo card to him. She's added her phone number at the bottom, and when his eyes land on it, she waits for his gaze to drag back to hers before she gives him a blinding smile, paired with a cheeky wink.
