One On One- daz and lacuna;

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Re: One On One- daz and Mac457

Postby daz » Thu Jun 30, 2016 5:34 am

      ━━━━━━━━━ lark ;;

        ________lark was quite surprised to have gotten through his wordy speech uninterrupted, the entire time june allowing him to preach on and on without a comment. she never interjected, allowing silence to overwhelm her as he got some things off of his chest. most of what he said seemed to cause some confusion, as it had to come as a shock for a villain's child to have such remarkable character traits. yet she was an excellent listener, which shouldn't have been too surprising. most goods were rumored to be exactly that, as every bone in their body had been raised to love and respect those around them. it was in their instinct to subconsciously love, while for lark it was to subconsciously hate. truth be told, they both did a rather fair job at exactly that. they fit into their cookie-cutter stereotypes just fine... almost. so long as you didn't include the fact they were communicating unbelievably freely, which was the opposite of what they were "supposed" to do. in the princess's presence, he should've projected only intense hatred. his words should've spouted with cruelty and mischief, not with sincerity and hope. but there he stood anyways, defying whatever laws that insisted they couldn't befriend one another. they acted as normal human beings, and there wasn't a thing wrong with that. unless you consulted either of their parents, who were bound to be extremely displeased if they ever were informed of their children communicating. but since when has lark been the sort to follow the rules?
        ________he wasn't certain how he felt about the princess's fingers interlaced with his. of course, it was prominently abnormal. forget the fact they were intentional polar opposites, but their hands were like puzzle pieces. they snapped into place, their palms squished together in perfect unison. somehow, it worked. despite the fact his was much larger than hers, and hers was so much warmer than his, they uniquely balanced one another out. lark had little to no experience when it came to hand-holding, but he felt he could grasp a gist of it. either hands fit, or they did not. turns out, spontaneously enough, theirs worked awfully well. how he was meant to respond to such a thing, he couldn't be positive. his mum had taught him to disregard and despise physical contact, especially from ghastly people like goods. but in his current situation, those rules didn't seem to apply. juniper was becoming something like a special case, and it was one of the strangest things he'd ever experienced. since when did he and anyone else get along... at all?
        ________etselle darted across their path, causing june to release an unnecessary screech. she shot backwards, momentarily forgetting that she had a cat to look out for. the fiendish animal kept running after he startled the princess, acting as if he had accomplished what he'd sought out to do. lark bore no reaction, instead quizzically glancing at the princess as she attempted to brush the situation off of her shoulders. his hand felt awfully empty after juniper abandoned it, instead focusing more intently on ensuring there were no more etselles around to frighten her. after she'd officiated that she was, in fact, perfectly safe, she scurried the remainder of the way into the kitchen. as she set to work on fixing him what she saw fit, he settled down into one of the chairs before the counter top she'd stationed herself at. he carelessly placed his chin in his hand, pressing all of his head's weight into his elbow. the two of them had fallen silent for a few moments, as if neither of them could pluck up the courage to continue their conversation. it was an unusual one, that was why. he'd opened himself up to her, and whether he'd done too little, just enough, or far too much, he couldn't tell. for someone who never pried on his own pages, he felt he'd revealed too much. it was a rare occurrence that he'd allow himself such emotional discharge, and for others under any label to sincerely "get to know" him. whether they were the proper good sort, or they were the most vicious creature under the setting sun. lark didn't open to anyone, so the fact he'd done so to juniper, of all people, was pure insanity. surely he was losing his mind! why on earth would he entrust her with such delicate information? he was meant to be the evil prince, not the thoughtful one. he had a throne to withhold, and he wasn't doing such a swell job at that. his logic was falling short of reason, and there was nothing left to do other than repeatedly question himself. alarm bells should've rung somewhere in his head as juniper began to list those foolish traits about him, as it was her hoping he'd correct her. he had, and then gone as far as to keep it going. lark wished he could take every last word back, but it was too late. juniper was already sitting on them, deciphering them and deciding how she felt about them. it was almost disgusting, seeing someone silently judging him for being this humanitarian as a villain. yet, unfortunately, there wasn't any going back now.
        ________the princess's sudden comment shot him back to attention, forcing him to remember what all he'd voiced from within himself. he had told no one, not even his own mother, how little he genuinely liked himself. he wasn't exactly "insecure", but he'd never gotten along with his own mind. he despised how his real self constantly intervened and questioned his instinct, and how complicated that made his everyday life. without real lark, then perhaps he wouldn't have ever approached juniper in the first place. he might have never rescued roya, or sought out a typical relationship with jazz. he wouldn't travel through the good forest in the hopes of stalking someone, wishing to learn from afar. he wouldn't even be the same person without his gentler traits, so wishing they weren't there was like wishing he hadn't been born. but he still hated himself because of those things, as he felt it made him a disappointment in the eyes of maleficent. the very last thing he'd ever wish to be was a failure, and especially to his mother figure. she was the queen of villainy, so of course he'd hope to please her. if he was ever to inherit her throne, he had to replicate her actions. he had to advertise that he was everything she'd ever hoped for, and not something that she should've rid her body of. lark queried he wasn't doing too swell in that department, and it made his self-confidence rocket straight downward.
        ________"i have my reasons," the dark fairy snapped, as if a bit taken aback by juniper's brash response. he'd sat back in his seat, attempting to put as much distance between him and the princess as possible. she'd gotten awfully close to him once more, so his defense mode went up instantaneously. "well, yes, i know i have to be my biggest supporter. my own mum doesn't care if i come home or not. but it gets difficult at times. i make plenty of mistakes, and they're infuriating because as a prince, i shouldn't make a single one. my biggest mistake has to be beginning to communicate with you," he admitted rather sourly, averting his gaze about the time juniper did. she trailed away from him, putting distance between them, which he was relieved about. "it's risky business, me sticking around here. i don't even understand why i do it. i hate myself because i can't catch onto my own emotions, because i don't even understand myself. how does my mind function? hell if i know. i make no sense. i want to hate you with every fiber in my being..." he trailed off, nibbling on his thumb, "but i don't."
        ________lark didn't lift his gaze back up until juniper started speaking again, still attempting to sift through all that he'd said. she wanted to understand him more, which was refreshing. most could care less about him as a person, and only wanted him imprisoned. they didn't wish to learn about him, his feelings, his backstory, or his hopes for the future. they didn't enjoy him one bit, as their only impression of him emerged from his infuriating instinct. if only they could keep digging, and then perhaps they'd work to assist him rather than chasing him away. but they'd never do that, not so long as he kept killing the innocent like they were his lives to conduct. a prince or not, he had no right to end those people without rhyme nor reason to his doing. prison was where he belonged, but he didn't want it. lark feared it, and he feared being betrayed and ultimately placed in it. he shrouded himself in false confidence, insisting that he wouldn't ever be obtained. he was much stronger than the humans, so they could only dream to compare to his power. but people had their ways, and there was a such thing as learning from your past mistakes.
        ________"i enjoy the sky every moment of every day," he replied, gazing up at the ceiling wistfully. the sky was his shameless pleasure, and anyone who was anyone ought to figure that out. he spent so much time in the trees, it should've been extremely obvious that he adored it as much as he did. lark, at last, looked at the princess once more. she was peering at him too, and their eye contact felt terrifyingly robust. her words were powerful, despite them being uttered out of the mouth of a good. he was doing his best to forget that aspect of her, instead wishing to see her as simply "juniper". she wasn't the good princess, nor was she a threat to him and his freedom. she was someone willing to listen, and that was supposed to be enough.
        ________she crossed the barrier of personal space they'd formed once more, this time taking his hand again. she held it gently, her warmth pulsating into his frosted fingertips. he was naturally pale, cold, and must've resembled a wilted flower. she was so lively, and... good. her words were the same, speaking to him on a level that he couldn't comprehend properly. june was offering him the bitter truth, and although he wished it weren't real, he knew it had to be more than fiction. his mum had convinced him that emotion was weak, and becoming a void was beautiful and natural. who knew that that was horribly inaccurate to what the rest of the world knew? lark felt behind, as he was on the verge of adulthood and still hadn't been made aware of these things. he was like a toddler first learning his abc's, an expression of wonder on his chiseled features. why hadn't anyone told him these things before?
        ________the brunette refused to admit that he'd originally started this mess out of his mother's influence, not his own. sure, he'd approached juniper because he was curious. but he also had maleficent echoing about in his poisoned brain, and her plots of snatching cinderella's throne. he'd predicted if he took advantage of the princess, then perhaps he could assist his mum in her devilish schemes. yet, he hadn't. he hadn't even admitted that he and juniper was talking, nor had he informed june of his mother's ideas. he was caught in the middle, and being dragged in both directions. whose side should he select? was the choice even his own to make?
        ________"well, whether emotions are weak or not... i dislike them. they're too complicated. i try not to question them, as it's easier to go with the flow rather than attempting to decide whether or not i approve of them. maleficent is the one who makes my decisions..." he frowned, glancing down at the counter, "disregarding her wishes is like charging directly into battle without weapons, armor, or knowledge."
        ________the dark fairy's chocolate gaze twinkled in wonderment at juniper's comment, insinuating that she'd protect him from harm so long as he remained there. her, among all people? he'd had his own back for his entire life, as his mum and dad hadn't cared enough to do so. yet now, a good princess, a female, someone who was meant to be his mortal enemy... she wished to do what maleficent had never done? he watched as she crouched before etselle once more, offering the obnoxious animal some kindhearted scratches. somehow, simply seeing that made lark question everything he'd thought previously about june. even after the damn creature had given her the equivalent to a heart attack, she loved it dearly. she was the master of forgiveness, and that took no magic to conceive. she was a marvelous person, and lived up to her good title.
        ________"although i'm likely to always find it difficult to trust you, or anyone for that matter, i appreciate the generosity." the words tasted foreign on his tongue, causing him to wrinkle his nose slightly. "i protect myself more than anyone wishes to protect me. despite the fact i've killed so many, and you've watched me do it... you're still very quick to see past it. how? it's practically illogical, and goes against everything you mum must've taught you. where does the courage to defy her originate from? because you're braver than even me in that regard." lark fastened his gaze on etselle, who had become a content, purring mass of white fluff. "you're unbelievably kind to a cruel monster, prin- i mean, juniper. i, um... well... it's... em... thank- thank you. i think. for not sending me away the moment you knew who i was, and for being so quick to forget that i'm nothing like you."
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HELLO
C R Y B A B Y !!

hmm

1x1 search ;; always eager for a group roleplay.
he/him ;; adult ;; infp/infj ;; libra ;; queer
hey there, i'm daz.
i'm sort of a cs vet, working on my own novels now.
writing constantly alongside my girlfriend + our four
cats. identifiable as a colored hair enthusiast, a
professional lefty, and an exhausted writer on
constant autopilot.

my pm box is open for site-related questions &
friendship whenever needed.


my kids // link // link link link
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Re: One On One- daz and Mac457

Postby vixen; » Fri Jul 01, 2016 4:32 pm

Juniper
Juniper listened as he seemed to become offended by her response. She brushed off most of what he said. She looked over at Etselle once again, Juniper rubbed the cat's head, ignoring it as she listened to what Lark was saying. Her attention snapped back to the white cat as she felt its sharp teeth sink into her thumb. Juniper jumped away from the cat, dropping the animal as she jumped off the table. Juniper glared at the cat as it ran out of the kitchen again, darting out of the door. Juniper grabbed a rag, pressing the wet clothe against the small holes on her hand. She glared at the door, then turned back to the clothe. She looked back at Lark. She smiled at Lark, though this smile was more of a I'll-kill-the-cat smile. June set the wash cloth down, running her hands under the water before, reaching into the oven to pull out the pan. She held a cloth, using that the buffer the heat between the pan and her hand.

"I know you have your reasons. I never said you didn't. I just told you my reasons." June looked at the pan, trying to get the bread out. She looked back at Lark at his comment about his mother not caring if he came home or not. "Well, let's put it like this. If one day you didn't come back to the palace. I would worry. Obliviously, you are old enough to make your own decisions. Remember, at least one person cares if you're alright." June managed to get the bread out of the pan. She set the fork down, going to get a plate. She set the plate down on the wooden table, looking back at him before setting the bread on the plate. "I don't hate you either." She muttered as she turned her attention back to the bread. She reached into the bowl, grabbing an apple. June cut the apple in half, setting the apple on the plate beside the bread.

Juniper got a glass out, nodding as Lark talked, the only indication that she was still listening to him, well, and her comments. She poured clean water into the glass, setting it down by the plate. June looked back at Lark as he spoke about not being able to trust anyone. "Nameless. I know that you trust no one. It's written all over you. The solid black clothing, the I need no one look on your face. The rugged handsome look of a loner." June teased lightly, though there was a small amount of truth, he was handsome, sickly pale with large horns, but he made it work. June picked the plate and glass up, setting it in front of him. "Eat. You're as thin as a rail. If you live in my father's castle." June said all of this dramatically. "You shall eat." She smiled at him, chuckled softly. "Just stay fed. There's plenty of food here." June turned back, she walked to the pan. June picked the pan up, grabbing a wet rag, she began to wipe the pan down. She set it in the bucket of dirty water. "I'll take that out tomorrow. Maybe drown the cat in it." She looked up at Lark again. "Kidding."

"If you are a Good. Which doesn't mean anything, honestly, it's just a title. You see Roya, she's a good person, but just because of her father, she's never treated how she should be. She's funny and very sweet." June shrugged her shoulders, going back to cleaning up. She got the broom and began sweeping the kitchen. "Nameless. I don't hate you. I never will. I certainly don't like the fact that you killed the Royal Guard, or that you killed the people at the village. But, and listen to me now, you did it to save yourself, and to save Roya. That wasn't Evil" June put an unneeded emphasis on the word Evil, "it was actually Good." She smiled at Lark. "Though you won't tell me your name, so I'll call you Nameless from now until you tell me your name. But, I could call you Trusty. But it doesn't seem to fit, I mean you trust so much, I just don't know if that name is too little for how much you trust. We might have to call you Extra Trusty." June looked back at what she was working on, her teasing smile had now faded, and she looked at Lark with an almost serious expression. "I will never hate you."
hi! i haven't been on this site in years. i'm pretty open to trading away my pets as i doubt that i will be on here again.
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Re: One On One- daz and Mac457

Postby daz » Sat Jul 02, 2016 1:01 pm

      ━━━━━━━━━ lark ;;

        ________lark rolled his eyes at etselle's obnoxious behavior, getting rather sick of the creature's determination to run in-and-out of the room. cats had always been such ridiculously hyperactive animals, lacking an off switch where it was direly necessary. they became annoyingly giddy at the absolute worst times, including their current serious conversation. it was the first truly intensive talk he'd endured with juniper, and etselle was doing a spectacular job at soiling it. somehow, the good princess was managing to tolerate the cat's overbearing behavior with a pained smile and a cloth. he quirked his brow at her as a response, peering down at the reddening napkin she'd pressed into the miniature wounds. she seemed fine, so he wouldn't worry over her. it was just a stupid cat being itself, which wasn't anything to be concerned about. if june wished to grin and bear it, he wouldn't bother questioning her or her better judgement.
        ________as the princess began to remove the bread she'd made from the oven, he listened intently to what she had to say. it was rather abnormal of him to be this willing to take on another's opinion when it came to himself, but he'd already decided their entire relationship was questionable. if their exchanges weren't as well, it would make even less sense. "that's odd," he admitted rather quietly, his voice hushed and slightly strained, "i've never had anyone actually show signs of genuine concern for my well-being." he didn't have it in him to actually thank her for such a kind gesture, but he felt his words spoke volumes about how much it meant to him. lark would never, and i mean never, voice that he felt incredibly indebted to someone good. whether they were a princess, a random villager, or anyone else under the sun, he refused to show them heavy extents of gratitude. that was just another symbol of weakness to him, and he refused to be taken advantage of in such a way. if he let someone know that he felt as though he owed them, they were sure to use that against him. although he'd never given someone the chance to do that before, it was still a fear of his. one of the many that few would be made aware of, as he was a book who disliked opening his pages. they were far too damaged, and he queried some weren't even legible. the dark fairy was too twisted... too confusing. much like a maze, but where the center yielded exciting results. perhaps it was more like a death drop, and in your excitement you accidentally tipped directly into the never-ending black pit. he was too dangerous to get to know in-depth, yet there he sat, spilling his guts as if there was nothing to lose. his pride, maybe. but since when did he legitimately possess any sort of realistic self-confidence?
        ________so, neither of them hated one another. reason number five hundred why their relationship made little to no sense. at least not logically, or lawfully either. they didn't harbor hatred, while their parents held only that. maleficent had been plotting to murder and overthrow cinderella, after all. if that wasn't the purest sort of detestation, then what was? two queens, overbearing even their husbands as they fought for the dominant throne. their feuds had been the primary thing to separate the two kingdoms in the first place, setting good and evil on two entirely different spectrums. each had their own forest, filled to the brim with societies of happy or unhappy people. you can likely guess who belonged where. perhaps the only reason that they were able to converse without the desire to kill each other was because of lark, as juniper might've never felt an ounce of distaste towards him in her life. if he had decided to do away with her the moment he'd had her in his clutches, then they wouldn't be sitting there presently speaking as civilized people. they were discussing lark's feelings of all things, and he wasn't attempting to stop them. legitimate shivers traced his spine at how good he was acting. his mum would not be proud to hear of his recent whereabouts.
        ________the dark fairy peered down at the food set out before him. it wasn't anything luxurious, and he hadn't wanted it to be. it was kindly simplistic, consisting of a loaf of fresh bread and an apple. coincidentally, apples were one of his favorite foods. they were easily accessible during his adventures through the trees, as he'd occasionally come across one unpicked by villager hands. those were days where he considered himself to be extremely lucky, as it rarely happened. due to this, he remained rather underfed. it was sort of an accident, as he was normally too busy thinking about other things. his evil schemes became a priority over his own health, which honestly could've been the absolute death of him. out of everything to potentially take him out of this world, accidental starvation? that, or overwhelming dehydration. he'd passed out plenty of times after going without water for a while, awakening to find himself sprawled out in the middle of a forest. he called it good fortune that he wasn't caught like that, in such a vulnerable position, in such a state where he was unable to fight back. unconscious and unaware, and easily obtained. caring for himself should've come first, but it was uncommon that it did. there was only his stupidity to blame for that.
        ________lark found a weak smile creeping onto his sickly pale face, before he brought the water-filled cup up to his lips. "the rugged, handsome look of a loner? hm. do i suit it well?" he joked, before swallowing a bit of the clear liquid. he'd watched her make it for him, so there was no reason to watch out for heavy sedatives, or even poison. was it sad that he liked to keep his eyes peeled for that sort of thing? he couldn't accept meals from strangers, as there was the concern that they'd doused it with something suspicious. he didn't like eating in front of others either, but figured in his current situation it wasn't an option. he simply had to cave, accepting the fact that june was caring for the wreck that he was. a million thank you's were in order, despite the fact he'd likely only leave it at the singular one from earlier. lark was like a stubborn child sometimes, and juniper somehow managed to soften him up.
        ________"no, don't be kidding. that's a brilliant idea. drench the damn thing. it deserves it." he peered skeptically at the bread, before raising it up and biting into it. the warmth from the fresh loaf filled his mouth, causing him to momentarily see stars. no one had ever cooked for him, and whether that be something as small as bread, he didn't care. it was more than maleficent had given him in all his years of being her son, or better said, her loyal servant. that was likely rather depressing, but he'd known nothing different. there was a period in his life where he'd assumed that that was the norm, and that his "bond" with his mum wasn't anything worth looking into. turns out he was wrong, and had yet to even realize how wrong.
        ________as the dark fairy ate, juniper went about cleaning her used dishes. her words struck a few nerves within his overly sensitive body, but he knew to look past it. she wasn't trying to insult him. she was hoping to make him feel better about himself, which was... good. duh. she just didn't realize that calling him such a thing felt practically offensive, and he had no desire to be considered "good" whatsoever. but, believe it or not, she was actually sort of correct. if you were to look past the multiple people he'd murdered, seeing it more as self-defense, then it was suddenly extremely clear. he wasn't a totally awful fairy in the end. since when did villains make any efforts to help others? evil or not, it was like he'd thought before, it was supposed to be every man for himself in the evil society. but in his mind that wasn't logical, so he'd rescued roya out of... ew... "the goodness of his heart". gag him with a spoon, he hated that. or did he? was that just his mum talking? cultural appropriation?
        ________"but it's different," he replied, before beginning to nibble tediously at his sliced apple, "roya is a nice person. she hasn't... murdered. she has been falsely accused because of her parentage, and the stereotype that all evils have to fit into that label exactly. i haven't been falsely accused of anything, though. i have killed people, and i have willingly followed the stereotype." he huffed slightly, suddenly rather pissed at himself. "the world... the world has every right to want me behind bars. i'm no good, juniper. i'm the most straightforward evil there ever was, and probably ever will be; and i haven't attempted to stop myself." he left out the part about it not even being his own fault, and that most of what he did was heavily influenced by what his mum saw fit.
        ________the food was gone rather quickly, his hunger taking over to such an extent that he couldn't hesitate any longer. he finished by downing the glass of water, allowing the cold liquid to trail down his throat and drain into his longing stomach. he kind of felt horrific about giving juniper exactly what she'd wanted, which was him eating, but he didn't care enough. he had been hungry, and had gone too many days without taking care of it. he had a bit of a problem, and it had become a rather vicious cycle.
        ________"okay, i can tolerate lots of things. being called trusty is not one of them. seriously, if that's the case then i'm reverting back to calling you "your majesty". i'd prefer it if you called me nameless." lark paused, before frowning deeply. "if you're trying to convince me to give you my name, it's not happening. i'm not playing games here, alright? no one is supposed to know my name. as soon as i tell you, it's bound to be everywhere." it felt like all of the progress they'd just made was beginning to go downhill, his teeth gritting and his eyes squeezing closed. they didn't hate one another. why not? his book was snapping shut. "i can't believe myself. i can't believe i literally just entrusted you with all of that information. you'll probably go tell the world now, and then no one will be afraid of me ever again. i'll be an even bigger joke." the dark fairy's hands turned into tight, pale fists. he raised one up, before bringing it down with a threatening slam. the force put into it was enough to knock his empty glass over, sending it toppling off the tabletop and onto the floor. it shattered into dozens of dangerous pieces, scattering across the floor beneath his and juniper's feet. "i'm not supposed to make friends. i don't want you to be my friend. please. please, you have... you have... you have to hate me, or else my mum will kill me. so what's stopping you?"
Image
█████████████████
-----------------------------------------------
HELLO
C R Y B A B Y !!

hmm

1x1 search ;; always eager for a group roleplay.
he/him ;; adult ;; infp/infj ;; libra ;; queer
hey there, i'm daz.
i'm sort of a cs vet, working on my own novels now.
writing constantly alongside my girlfriend + our four
cats. identifiable as a colored hair enthusiast, a
professional lefty, and an exhausted writer on
constant autopilot.

my pm box is open for site-related questions &
friendship whenever needed.


my kids // link // link link link
-----------------------------------------------
█████████████████
User avatar
daz
 
Posts: 15031
Joined: Thu Jun 14, 2012 7:39 am
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Re: One On One- daz and Mac457

Postby vixen; » Sun Jul 03, 2016 10:12 am

Juniper
The princess had finished sweeping the kitchen, moving onto the wiping down the counter. She was sort of a closeted neat freak, June wipe down the counter, listening to him then commenting, or teasing him. She scrubbed harder at one spot, determined to clean it. After a few seconds of having the wrath of Juniper rain upon it, the smudge was finally cleaned. June turned her attention back to Lark, who had a sudden change of mood. June jumped as he slammed his fist on the table, letting out a small squeak when the glass shattered. She looked away from him, biting her lip. June wouldn't yell, she wouldn't scream, not now, he had just begun to open up, she refused to lose that. June didn't answer him, but simply grabbed the broom. She walked over to Lark, and began to sweep up the shattered glass. She stayed silent, though her face was red, she was mad, that much was true. June swept the glass into a neat pile, she leaned the broom against the table, walking over to get a dust pan. The broom slid, falling to the floor with a loud bang causing June to jump again. She walked back to the table, holding the dust pan in one hand, reaching to pick the broom up with her other hand. A piece of glass sat next to the broom, unseen by June as the girl grabbed the wooden handle on the broom. She pressed her hand into the floor to push herself up, only to lodge the piece of glass into her hand. June winced, pulling her hand away, letting the broom fall to the ground again. The clear glass was now visible as it stuck in June's hand, the cut began to bleed, turning the glass into a strange transparent red color. June set the dust pan on the table, then used her other hand to pull the piece of glass out of her hand. It sent a wave of pain through June's hand as the girl pulled the glass out. She bite her lip, then dropped the glass onto the dust pan. Juniper grabbed the broom again, swept the glass shards into the dust pan. She got a bucket, pouring the glass into it.

The blood had pooled on June's hand, she frowned as she stared at her hand. Accident prone, that had to be it. June was clumsy. She got the rag she had used to clean, and pressed it against the cut. June quickly pulled the rag away from the cut as the wound began to sting. Soap, June had forgotten about the soap on the rag. She set the rag on the counter, looking around the kitchen for one. She sighed, unable to find a rag. June looked down at her dress, it would have to work. She hated to ruin the light blue of the dress, but lifted the hem of the dress, pressing it against her hand. She got the bleeding to stop, letting the hem of her dress fall back in place, the blue now an ugly purple. June looked over at Lark. "I never asked you to tell me your name. I was teasing you. Trusty? Are you kidding me? Did you honestly believe that I, or anyone for that matter, would ever call you Trusty?" June was still mad, but it was mostly gone now, her words had no edge or snap to them, more an annoyed tone. "I can't believe you. What makes you think I would tell anyone? Don't you dare use being a princess against me. I didn't ask to be a princess." June looked down at her hand, the blood had pooled again, and now dripped on the counter. She frowned, grabbing the rag with soap, pressing it against the cut. "Crap." Juniper muttered, wincing again at the sting of the soap. She sighed, every last bit of anger gone, now even the feeling of being annoyed had left. June set the rag on the counter, quickly wiping away the drop of blood. "Look, you want me to hate you, then fine. If that's what you need, then okay, tell yourself that I hate you. Because, trust me, I want to. But I can't hate you. You've killed innocent people, left children without their father, you may have even orphaned some of those kids. Children that are in my kingdom, that I am suppose to protect. You've killed their parents. But I don't hate you. And if you need me to, whenever someone ask, I'll say I hate if that's what you want. Your majesty."

She stopped talking, just set the rag on the counter again, and walked over to the table. She took the plate from Lark, her hand almost reaching for the glass or water. She pulled her hand back to her, walking over to the counter again. June grabbed two apples, walked over to Lark. She set them in front of him. "Eat." She muttered before turning to walked back to the counter. She turned to looked at him, forcing a smile. "Yes, Nameless. You suit the rugged loner look." She murmured. June looked at the door, wanting Etselle to come back in the room, the cat would give her something to attend to, and it couldn't speak, so that was a bonus. June looked away Lark again, her back facing him as she turned back to the dishes. She stared at the water, not sure what else there was to do. The cut on her hand stung, June looked down at her hand, blood pooling again. June frowned, it should have stopped bleeding by now. She reached for the cloth, her hand hovering above it. June pulled her hand back, she walked down a servants hallway, momentarily out of sight from the kitchen. June got a fresh rag, using this to press against her hand. She walked back to the kitchen, trying to tie the rag around her hand, she failed every time. Her dominant hand immobilized from the wound, she sighed, giving up. June eyes darted to Lark, then back to her hand. She didn't want to admit that it hurt, or that she needed help. She could do this on her own, it would take a while, but she could.

As if on cue, Estelle walked into the kitchen again, this time dragging a pillow behind him. The little cat walked as though he had just won a war. Estelle dragged the pillow to Juniper, then little cat let the cloth of the pillow fall from his mouth. Estelle meowed triumphantly, laying on the pillow as June looked down at the cat. June turned her attention back to trying to tie the cloth, she finally caved, holding the cloth against her hand. She sighed, looking at Estelle than at Lark. She felt the cat rubbed against her leg, June ignored the cat, desperately attempting to the cloth. Estelle hissed, upset about the lack of attention. The cat picked the pillow up, waking out of the kitchen. June rolled her eyes, then glared at the cloth as the attempt of tying it failed again.
hi! i haven't been on this site in years. i'm pretty open to trading away my pets as i doubt that i will be on here again.
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Re: One On One- daz and Mac457

Postby daz » Sun Jul 03, 2016 6:14 pm

      ━━━━━━━━━ lark ;;

        ________lark's breathing was labored as he took in what he'd just done, his fists still clenched into two constrictive balls. he refused to meet juniper's gaze, instead finding that his hands were far more fascinating. they were as white as a sheet, made even more so as he tightened his grip. he could hear june bustling about around him, working to clean the mess he'd made. her goodness was practically infuriating, as even after he'd shouted at her so crossly, she was willing to sweep away the mistakes. some invisible to the naked eye, and others as physically present as the shattered glass. had he been a more decent human being, he would've risen to his feet and insisted he take up the job. he would snatch the broom from her hands, whether she liked it or not, and attempt to make up for his foul actions. but he did not, for he was no good. it wasn't that he didn't feel awful enough, because he was overwhelmed with absolute guilt. it was because of what he'd been conditioned to do, and how his instinct functioned within him. his mum had informed him once that everyone, asides from her of course, was to be treated like the dirt under his feet. they were placed on this planet for him to torment and enslave, just as she had done through her years of living. she'd kidnapped plenty of defenseless good villagers in her time, ensnaring them in her web and forcing them to carry out her bidding. whether they were considered people of power or not, she wasn't afraid of taking them. although lark had never actually done something to that extent, he was aware it was an option. it was also what his mum intended for him to do, causing him to be an even greater disappointment when he didn't. but the idea of forcing anyone to work under him as a "glorified servant" sounded foul. even diaval, who was literally intended to be just that. but the dark fairy refused to treat him as such, instead seeing the crow as more of a brother than an indebted slave. having juniper cleaning up the glass was practically symbolic of how low he'd allowed himself to stoop, allowing the princess of good to shamefully brush his mistakes away. but he didn't have the energy to insist she stop, instead left to bury his face in his arms.
        ________june slicing her hand with glass went unnoticed for the time being, as he was too preoccupied with his own jumbled feelings. they all came crashing down on him like a violent wave, relentless and frightening. he'd already verbally announced how petrified he was of his own emotions, as they had a tendency to be awfully chaotic. he overthought most everything, and especially the difference between his instinct and legitimate desires. they weren't only mildly dissimilar, but absolutely nothing alike. they didn't even remotely merge as one, which was probably a determining factor towards his need for causing chaos. it was like a drug to him, truthfully. he couldn't seem to stop himself, no matter how afraid of imprisonment he became. the chaos in his head fed into his hands, and it came spewing out through curses of death and horrific destruction. the boy was what a person could call a train-wreck, where nothing he did was logical and he was best at spewing nonsense. maybe that was all he was good for anyway: existing to make no sense. he didn't know whether to blame himself, or his crooked upbringing. both sounded about right to him.
        ________lark was only brought back to reality, having been sitting there silently seething for what felt like an eternity, when juniper spoke up once more. he weakly raised his head, his chin resting on top of his arms, his misty eyes immediately catching sight of the princess's dress. there was a prominent stain of purple there, which had certainly not been there previously. he blinked to clear his vision, squinting rather confusedly at the sight. how had that happened? there hadn't been any jam on the bread he'd consumed, had there? or had he been so hungry, he hadn't noticed if there was. but surely he would've tasted such a noticeable product when included on something as bland as fresh bread? his queries were answered when he spotted the fresh wound decorating juniper's hand, causing him to shake his head slightly. she hadn't had to tell him that aspect of her, it was already blatantly obvious. she was a klutz, somehow managing to harm herself in doing absolutely anything. she seemed like the type that could leap into a bed of delicate roses, and end up emerging coated in spontaneous cactus needles. she magnetized harm to her body, which was bound to be inconvenient for such a sensitive girl. she was bleeding rather heavily too, which mustn't have been healthy. she'd already gotten scratched up by etselle, so it was a wonder she wasn't screaming her head off in frustration. although, upon further inspection, her facial expression informed him that that was exactly what she wished to do. she likely was only censoring herself, so as to not frighten lark back into his shell completely. too late for that... probably.
        ________"i didn't actually think you wanted to call me trusty," he mumbled defensively, acting like a toddler who'd just gotten caught doing something foolish, "but it's like you were hinting at the fact you had nothing better to call me, okay? i'm nameless. nameless. that's it. that's literally all you need to know, and i wish i would've left it at that. i shouldn't have told you anything more," he ranted, primarily angry with himself and not juniper. he was prone to making awful decisions, and at the worst of times, but this had to be an all time low for him. he sure as hell was no "trusty", as he could only bash himself for having faith in the good princess of all people.
        ________juniper, even with a heavily bleeding predicament to sort out, was able to put his accusations to shame. she was bitter, and rightfully so. yet, somehow, she wasn't exactly shouting at him. he expected her to let him have it, as that was what maleficent did. if he ticked her off, she would light a fire under his ass. she held nothing back, normally having enough steam to last their one-sided argument for an hour. but, stunningly, the princess handled herself with a remarkable grace. that said a lot, especially coming from the clumsiest person lark thought he knew. he could only wilt, much like a dying flower, falling into himself once more. well, of course. how insensitive could he be? was this truly the sort of fairy he'd succumbed to? neither of them had asked for their statuses; they'd been born into their lives, and there wasn't any coming out of it. roya had, sure, but her situation was different. jafar wasn't the head in the evil kingdom, he was the king of one of the many side palaces. but lark's mother led them all, and as did cinderella. attempting to flee their titles was, unfortunately, not an option. but why would you ever wish to abandon such a "luxurious lifestyle? lark's life was no luxury. no prince was meant to be treated, raised, and taught the way he had been. life could've been much simpler had he been someone like jazz, for example, whose father hadn't been a king. peter pan, before his questionable death, had remained in his world of outcast children. there wasn't a care in the world where jazz came from, without any sort of responsibilities and such to live up to. nothing but a tasteful freedom that lark, nor juniper, would likely ever get to feel.
        ________the brunette flinched a tad at the way june said "your majesty", able to hear every ounce of the previously resisted spite in her gentle voice. he didn't have it within him to apologize, as that was how considerably cruel he could be, but he had enough sense to nod his head in understanding. there wasn't much use bickering with her, and in the end he'd likely only make himself feel bad. worse than he already did, that is. "another fact about me, then," he began, as if attempting to smooth out the opened pages he'd so violently crinkled. "i'm a real prick sometimes." his words were somewhat meant to soften the blow of his harshness, doing so without having to actually say "i'm sorry". he was a gutsy boy, but was stubborn enough to not want to admit he'd stepped over an invisible boundary. there wasn't any valid reason for him to yell, even with his ridiculous trust issues as an excuse. juniper wouldn't be having any of it.
        ________to speak, lark had flattened his face back in his crossed arms. they lay on the table, allowing him to sulk. meanwhile, juniper had taken his dishes away, before proceeding to replace them with two more apples. they were placed before him with a resounding thunk each, bringing him to attention. his chocolate gaze stared at them quizzically, almost as though they'd stopped being his favorite food and instead transformed into snow white's poisoned apples. yet, on a still slightly irritable june's command, he accepted them. he took one and bit into it, listening to the satisfying crunch as the tangy juices lit up his taste buds. he figured he wouldn't be getting anymore water now, wishing to spare the lives of the leftover cups in juniper's cabinets. he watched as the woman offered him a pained grin, somehow managing to still be complimentary of his appearance. even after being so foul to her, she had the audacity to say that? once more, her kindness was almost too much for his tattered soul.
        ________"you suit your insistence upon kindness as well," he replied, before taking another hefty bite from the apple he'd focused on. he was left to himself when juniper began to busy herself with... well, whatever she was doing. it took a while, but he realized it was her attempting to mend her cut. the glass she'd sliced her hand on had given her quite the nasty scratch, willing a plentiful amount of blood from the gash. he'd had shards of the reflective material embedded in his skin before as well, as a few angry villagers had had the nerve of pelting him with it, so he understood the pain. attempting to predict whether you'd pried it all free or not was practically impossible, so there was no use trying. he normally just waited it out, allowing the glass to be ejected from his body via natural causes.
        ________naturally, it was about that time that etselle decided to make an ungraceful reappearance. the stupid cat had even brought a pillow this time, acting as though it were supposed to be treated as royalty itself. he released an audible groan as the incompetent creature yowled its little heart out, desperate for more attention of all things. that's all cats seemed to be good for: petting, pooping, and sleeping. asides from that, what good were they? they sort of just... existed to agitate you. luckily, however, etselle's presence didn't linger long. the cat ended up lumbering away the moment it realized juniper didn't intend to pat it, so in a pitiful huff it scrammed, the pillow in tow. but the princess was still preoccupied, now seeming to try and tie a cloth around her cut. she was being rather unsuccessful, as it was likely that her dominant hand had been the one to be sliced into. that obviously caused some problems, making it practically impossible to accomplish the tedious work. lark sort of wished to up and leave the kitchen, allowing the princess to deal with her situation on her own, but he didn't. in fact, he did the opposite. he rose to his feet, pausing to levitate the bare apple core towards the trash can. he picked up the other apple she'd given him, and on his way over to her he rubbed it on his tight tank thoroughly. he stuck the fruit in between his teeth the moment he was at juniper's side, closing off the space they'd had placed between them since arriving. with his food locked tightly in his mouth, he used his hands to help secure the substitute bandage over the princess's sizable cut. once he was finished, he removed the apple from his mouth with another satisfying crunch. the dark fairy gazed down at the female before him, his shimmery brown eyes settled on her and her alone. a beautiful young woman, with luscious blonde curls and a face that was made for smiling. she was attractive, and there wasn't any denying that. he'd be lying to himself if he did.




      ━━━━━━━━━ diaval ;;

        ________it was like a world of endless wonder, with unending twists, turns, nooks, and crannies. it was a maze of complexity, and it didn't seem to stop. for whatever reason, diaval couldn't get enough of scoping it out. ever since he'd begun to accompany lark into the summer palace, he had not found himself displeased. he'd kept a watchful eye on his master throughout the entire experience, but would occasionally go off on his own whenever he deemed lark was safe. it was a rare occurrence for such a thing to happen at all, but recently he'd been surprised to find how trustworthy he found their newfound environment. to begin with, he'd been strongly skeptical. the good princess's summer palace? although it oozed with exploration and potential, he couldn't prevent himself from seeing the multiple bad alternatives. lark could very well have landed himself in prison for communicating freely with someone like juniper, and then was bound to be killed without a second thought. he'd sat down and lectured lark on multiple occasions just how reckless and stupid this entire scenario was, but the prince had brushed it off. he insisted he was doing his mum a favor, but diaval knew better than that. he could see straight through the boy's lies. lark was like a curious school boy, finally given the opportunity to spectate on a spectacle as fascinating as a real life good who didn't want his ass hanged in her kingdom. it was almost too incredible to be true, which was what had turned him off from it from the very beginning. but as he'd lingered about, keeping a watchful eye on his master and the things which he did while in the summer palace, he began to sense something delightful was forming. lark was making friends, whether the prince liked it or not. which was great, because otherwise the dark fairy hadn't anyone at all! diaval was happy for the boy, and enough so that he'd begun leaving him be. he felt that juniper was to be trusted, even with the frightful implications from her mother lingering about. roya was also a splendid character, and as was jazz. peter pan's son, although a bit quirky, seemed awfully nice. so diaval allowed lark to go about his business as he pleased, which allowed the crow to explore the palace however he saw fit.
        ________from the beginning, no one had actually noticed diaval. he was a lowly crow upon first glance, and most assumed he just had a weird obsession with stalking the evil prince. it wasn't until around day three of lark going into the summer palace that he explained diaval was his loyal pet, given to him by maleficent when he was first born. that was... partially factual. but the full truth was intended to be a secret, much like lark's name, and few were to be made aware of it. diaval had been born a crow, but transformed into a human by maleficent. upon lark's birth, he was given to the prince to be his servant. life might've been far more miserable for him had it not been for the levels of generosity that lark refused to admit he had. the prince permitted diaval to come and go as he pleased, not treating him like a slave. due to this, they'd actually become extremely close friends. he actually considered the dark fairy to resemble more of a brother than a master, despite him still referring to the brunette as such. but nobody else knew of their relationship, as neither of the boys had revealed the fact that the crow was far more than a measly bird. diaval was granted the ability to shape-shift, giving him multiple different forms. a horse, a dragon, a crow, a wolf... the list went on and on, but it included a human. he could think intellectually because of it, thus causing him to be far more than just an ordinary crow.
        ________presently, diaval had found himself in his bird form. he was soaring throughout the endless palace, stretching his wings while allowing his ebony feathers to catch wind. he'd spotted jazz sulking about, doing who knows what. one of his feathers had fallen, tumbling down and causing peter pan's son to sneeze. the boy had snapped his head up confusedly, not knowing where the mysterious feather had come from, until he spotted the familiar crow. diaval had perched himself at the top of a random statue, thus giving them the opportunity to sort of... look at each other. it was odd, because it was almost as though jazz could see straight through his "disguise". diaval felt utterly transparent under jazz's rather malicious gaze, as if the boy could easily tell there was a person hiding there. but he didn't allow his nerves to get the best of him, as he figured it was simply him being too over-cautious when it came to protecting his prince. so he ignored his suspicions, released an irritated caw, then took flight once more.
        ________it was night, meaning there wasn't much activity in the palace. lark was off with juniper elsewhere; the crow had abandoned them around the time that she'd lugged the dark fairy off to assist her in reversing a curse. if they'd been successful, they were likely doing their usual awkward bickering. she would call him "nameless", and he'd proceed to clumsily flirt, and pretend that he didn't secretly like the fact that she didn't hate him. diaval had teased lark about it before, but again, he'd been brushed off stubbornly.
        ________his in-flight adventures ended up taking him outside the palace. he actually was intervened by etselle, who he landed beside to caw at obnoxiously. as a thank you, the stupid cat had buried its claws into his wing and shredded off a few more of his feathers. no wonder lark hated etselle, the cat was a riot... and not in a good way. birds were far better pets anyways! but after hurriedly flying away from his current form's predator, it began to rain, of all things. it wasn't a complete downpour, but it was rain. enough to make him eager to return to the safety of indoors. so, he had to seek out a way in. the door wasn't an option, as it was locked and closed. the window he'd emerged from was... somewhere. okay, diaval had never been known for having a bright sense of direction! there were far too many windows anyways, and it would've taken him way too long to try and find that one in particular. so he settled on a rather small hole in a certain section of the roof, managing to be a perfect squeeze for him and his now drenched body. the bird tumbled inside just as a bit of lightning struck, which caused him to cringe. he had a terrible phobia of storms, and was prone to hiding in lark's cloak whenever a nasty one came around. they were so violent, life-threatening, and huge. he hated them with a passion.
        ________diaval landed, spreading his wings to inspect the damage. one of them was bleeding, but both were soaked to the bone. he clucked despairingly, beginning to nibble at them precariously with his beak. as he went about that, occasionally giving his head a firm shake to fling some water droplets from his eyes, he began to inspect his surroundings. an attic. huh, he didn't know there was an attic in the summer palace. but low and behold, there was. and who would happen to be inside it? roya, jafar's daughter, of course. the crow tilted its head at her thoughtfully, before hurriedly flapping his wings to ensnare her attention. more rain drops fell from his rugged feathers, including bits of his blood as well. thanks, etselle.
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HELLO
C R Y B A B Y !!

hmm

1x1 search ;; always eager for a group roleplay.
he/him ;; adult ;; infp/infj ;; libra ;; queer
hey there, i'm daz.
i'm sort of a cs vet, working on my own novels now.
writing constantly alongside my girlfriend + our four
cats. identifiable as a colored hair enthusiast, a
professional lefty, and an exhausted writer on
constant autopilot.

my pm box is open for site-related questions &
friendship whenever needed.


my kids // link // link link link
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Re: One On One- daz and Mac457

Postby vixen; » Mon Jul 04, 2016 3:37 pm

Juniper
June frowned as he spoke, repeatedly trying to tie the cloth. She frowned even more as he spoke again, claiming that she was hinting at wanting his name. She wanted to snap at him, then kick him out of the castle. She couldn't, some part of her wanted to be the standard good that would have Lark imprisoned, the other part hated those people -as much as a good could hate-. June had given up on tying the cloth, and now set it down beside her hand. As Lark explained that he could be irritable at times, June had almost agreed with him there. He acted like a toddler, it was ridiculous. June was ready to walk out of the room, just leave and go find Roya. Or maybe find Jazz. At the thought of Peter Pan's son, the thought of Peter Pan's death followed, it was the strangest death June had ever heard of, and possibly the only death June's parents had told her about. True, she did live a sheltered life, her parents kept her away from the border between the Good and Evil kingdoms, they had allowed her anything she had wanted, in exchange June was to never ask about the Evil kingdom, or about her mother's 'meetings'. June had agreed, never once asking what was going on. As promise June lived a privileged life, tons of dresses, pets, and books were just a word away. June had only made one mistake in her family life. Curiosity killed the cat; for June curiosity got a one way trip to the summer palace. She had asked about the meetings, after that her mother's entire demeanor had changed. Her loving warmth turned frigid, the next day June was told that she was to go to the summer palace alone.

Lark's voice snapped June back to reality, in all honesty, his voice was no more of a saving grace. She hated to think of that time, it confused her, it stung, and left her feeling abandoned. She nodded at his remake about her kindness. June looked back at her cut, she tried to tie the cloth again, once again, the princess failed. June sighed, watching Lark intently as he walked over to her. The personal space boundaries disappeared, Lark stood close to Juniper, too close for a friend, too close for anyone really. June shoulder have moved away, should have took a step back from him. She didn't, she let him tie the cloth for her, a thank you was in order. She wanted to speak, to say thank you then leave as quickly as Estelle did. His gaze had her trapped, she looked back at him, her eyes watching his. His chocolate colored eyes held her in place. June felt herself blushing, she looked away from him, a shy smile on her face. She blushed again. Why was he making her so nervous? Dozen of princes had invaded June's personal space, looking at her just the same as Lark did now. She had never once felt nervous around them, the princes were all equally annoying, each one talking solely about the crown that Juniper would inherit, or about themselves. June hated it, but now, she couldn't stop blushing. She felt more nervous than ever. Why him? Why was Lark making her this nervous? She bit her lip, June looked back at Lark. "Thank you. For tying the cloth." She didn't want to move away from Lark. Something was holding her here. June broke what ever trance was holding her here. She shifted her weight, then smiled at him again. "I should go. There's blood on the dress." Before Lark could protest, June walked out of the kitchen. She walked down the hall, passing Estelle on the way to her room. The cat meowed, running after June. June brushed the cat off. Third door to the right. June opened the door, stepping into ...the closet. June sighed, shaking her head. Left. Third door to the left. She walked into the room, Estelle running in before June closed the door behind her.

Juniper changed dress, now wearing a navy blue dress. She sat on her bed, petting Estelle as the kitten purred. She stood up, walking to the door. Estelle followed after her, wailing as June ignored it. Juniper opened the door, she walked down the hallway, not seeing any other people. She passed the library, not stopping as she walked by the door. June now had a destination in mind, Estelle followed, wailing again as he was ignored. June opened the door to the library, Estelle ran in ahead of the princess. June quickly shut the door, trapping the annoying animal inside. June laughed quietly, then walked down the main hall. Her foot steps echoed, anyone could easily track her. She turned down a small hallway, walking faster as she got closer to where she wanted to go. She turned down another hallway, entering the ballroom from a servants hallway. June smiled, she loved the ballroom here. At the grand palace the ballroom was enormous, too grand, too big. June hated it. You couldn't hear yourself think there, Cinderella had loved it, throwing parties almost every week. June never danced at the ball, she had tried once when she was fourteen. She remembered it clearly, she was dancing with her father when a prince asked to dance. June agreed and it all went south from there. Prince after prince. June ended up on her butt, dozens of princes or the sons of noble men gathered around her as the princess tried to get out of there. She managed to escape the ballroom, retreating to a balcony. Three princes followed her, she hadn't liked a single on. They crowded her, talking about their kingdoms, trying to outdo the others. June shuddered at the thought. She looked back at the door. Juniper shrugged, no one else was currently in the ballroom.

June laughed, it echoed around her. She began to dance, nothing special, just a dance. She smiled, closing her eyes as she did. Juniper smiled, letting her thoughts roam. She twirled, her dress flying around her. June laughed again, her laugh light and carefree. She didn't speak, which was a little odd for June, but now there was no one to talk with, and that suited her just fine. June let her arms move as she danced, she held one corner of her dress, as though she was dancing with a phantom. June's smile rested on her face, she twirled again, her laughing bubbling up. It was crazy, but probably the most normal thing to happen today. Of all things this week it was the most sane thing June had done. The young princess twirled again, her smile unmistakable. She was happy, alone, but happy.


Roya
The young sat on a bench, staring at the wall. Her eyes were mostly closed, she was just about asleep. Someone lined her thoughts, someone important, someone who now haunted Roya's thoughts. She let her eyes close, her breathing slow as the girl fell asleep. She wasn't a deep sleeper, never had been since running away. Roya hadn't felt safe in a long time, it seemed to run in the Evil kingdom, the feeling of being hunted constantly. Roya had long since abandoned the thought of ever feeling safe, it seemed like a distance memory, nothing more than a dreamer. Here Roya knew she was safe, her father could never find her, or wouldn't expect to find her in a good palace. Knowing you're safe and feeling safe are two very different things. The majority of her life, Roya had never once felt safe, partially because recently most of Roya's life had been spent running. Juniper life was a mystery, both girls were princesses, though Roya wasn't going to inherit the throne to Evil any time soon, and frankly, Lark could have that throne all he wanted, Roya wanted no part of any of it. She woke up as she heard something, Roya panicked, her thoughts racing back to being caught by her father's henchmen. The girl turned around, her eyes scanning the attic for any immediate threat. Her eyes rested on the crow, the panic faded from her face.

Roya blinked the sleep from her eyes, looking at the crow. "You." Roya muttered. She looked at the crow's wing, "You're hurt. Poor thing." She got up, grabbing a rag from a pile that formed her makeshift pillow. She walked to the crow, moving slowly to it. "It's okay. I won't hurt you." She murmured. Roya reached out, her hand brushing on the top of the crow's head. "I won't hurt you." Roya took the bird's wing, gently wiping away the blood. She wrapped the rag around the injured wing, taking care to not hurt the bird any more than it already was. "Who did this? Was it Jazz? I tried to tell them, he's no good. Sure he may be labeled Good, but there's something wrong with him. Something bad is going to happen as long as he is here. I can feel it. Trust me. No one here is listening, you can't blame them, he hasn't done anything.Yet." She gently tied the rag. "That should slow, and hopefully stop the bleeding." Roya smiled at the crow, using her index finger to stroke the animal's head. "Can you keep a secret? Sure you can, you're a crow. You can't understand me, so we're good. I met someone. He's nice, very nice. There's a problem, his mother doesn't like me at all. He's Good, I'm Evil. She doesn't like that. But I like him, sort of, I guess I do. His name is Roux. It's a nice name." Roya began to rant a little, stopping herself.

"You okay now? You're soaking wet." Roya took another rag, gently wiping the animal. "Sweet thing. You're Lark's pet aren't you? A crow, of all things. I could never have imagined him of all people having such a sweet animal." She smiled at the crow again, continuing to stroke its head. "You are just so cute." She smiled wider at the animal. "Gosh, I love you so much. Adorable." She giggled at the crow. "Cutie. If Jazz did this, I will end him. Not really, but still. I'll tell Lark, and he'll end him. You are just too cute." Roya finished drying the crow off. "You should be dry now." Roya took a blanket now, wrapping it around the crow. "You'll need to stay warm." Thunder cracked, causing Roya to jump. She bumped into the crow, and she gasped. "I'm sorry. You poor thing. Cold, wet, you're probably hungry aren't you? Don't have any food up here, I can't leave the attic. He's out there. The second I step out of the attic, Jazz will find me. I know it." Roya let out a small sigh. "Maybe I just being paranoid. I wish you could talk, then I'd have someone to talk with, I mean, I'm talking, you just can't respond." She smiled at the little crow again.

Roya stood up, fixing her hair quickly before walking over to the whole in the ceiling. Roya got a bucket, she didn't have food, but she had buckets. She slid the bucket under the hole, letting it catch the rain. "That should do it, at least for tonight. You know what? If Roux was here, he'd fix it." Roya frowned. "Listen to me, like a love sick puppy. Disgusting." She sat down by Diaval, sighing. "I can't believe it. I'm acting like a little girl with her first crush. I can't stand it. In fact, I hate it. I need to get a grip. I meet one guy, then wow, I'm head over heels in love." Roya spat the word love out like it tasted sour, and it did. Love wasn't common in the Evil kingdom, or in Roya's life either. She sighed, laying down on the floor. "I can't believe it." She sat up quickly, having to pause, putting her hand to her head. "Can you? You probably don't care, you've got crow stuff to do."
hi! i haven't been on this site in years. i'm pretty open to trading away my pets as i doubt that i will be on here again.
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Re: One On One- daz and Mac457

Postby daz » Mon Jul 04, 2016 8:50 pm

      ━━━━━━━━━ lark ;;

        ________they kept... staring at one another. lark hovering over juniper, and the good princess simply stood there without another word. it was the most frightening sensation that, quite possibly, he'd ever felt in his entire life. that said something too, because he'd gotten into plenty of petrifying situations in life. to begin with, there was his first kill, where he had been overwhelmed with a sense of confusion and terror. he'd only been nine, still a vulnerable boy who didn't understand the complexity of his powers. he'd been mortified, scrambling back to the evil palace as fast as his little legs would carry him. he'd burst through the doors, proceeding to sob desperately into his mum's bleak cloak. he hadn't known what more to do, suspecting that his mother of all people would understand what needed to be said. he'd murdered an innocent boy, a good. the poor village kid had approached him wanting to play, and the young prince had obliged excitedly. the idea of getting a new friend had been an exciting opportunity, and he was dying for it. their enjoyment of one another's presences hadn't lasted for too long, however. maybe an hour into it, they got into a childish argument. lark had attempted to bury the memory, but somehow it always seemed to come back. they'd bickered over who should play the villain in their game of fantasy, and the dark fairy had wanted to be the hero more than anything. but so had the human boy, who ended up shouting at lark because "he was meant to be evil, so why couldn't he just accept his role and move on?" something about being forced to accept his inherited villainy at such a young age was unacceptable, so with a defiant "i'm not evil!" he'd stamped his foot into the earth. yet, he hadn't predicted his emotions to send his powers flying. at such a young age, he hadn't had the greatest amount of control over his powers. he was still considered more of a rookie, so hadn't realized the velocity of what his anger was capable of. the moment his foot made contact with the ground, a gigantic surge of green powder shout out from under it. it sent the human child flying backwards, ramming into a nearby tree. the impact caused the tree to release a deafening crack... or had that been the boy's body as it broke from within? but lark had stood, frozen on the spot, absolutely dumbfounded. he'd scrambled forward, hoping to awaken the "sleeping" child. to no avail, as he was long gone. he might've stuck around to help, but heard loud voices emerging from the distance. turns out it was the kid's mum, who managed to catch a glimpse of lark's horns as he fled the scene surrounded in the leftover bits of ivory magic and the black of his cloak. despite his horns being about half the size they were now, they were visible enough to be a noticeable aspect of his scrambling appearance. from that day onward began his role as a "dark omen", and when he ventured into the good kingdoms they'd chase him away with fire and swords. he had killed an innocent boy, and for that he had to pay. his mum had, of all things, been proud of him. she considered it a success story, giving him no comfort. she'd literally praised him for his "first kill", and toasted to the hope of "many more in the future". congratulations, maleficent. hopefully she'd gotten what she wanted, as lark had killed plenty more since the unnamed villager from his childhood. lark could only imagine what sort of things juniper did at nine... probably played with her millions of toys, and attended billions of pointlessly happy balls. lark was busy turning wretchedly cold.
        ________but all of that was to say that lark was rather used to feeling queasy butterflies in his stomach, and being uncertain of himself and his actions. he'd been plunged into endless pools of terror plenty of times, and should've been all too familiar with the sensation. but, where he currently stood, he felt utterly rocked. upon first glance, one might assume that their stances meant nothing. their facial expressions lacked volume; they very well could've been utter strangers, simply in inspecting one another as they innocently stood there. but between the two of them, there was heavy tension. it lingered uncomfortably, causing his throat to subconsciously tighten. it made no sense how bizarre he felt in such a close vicinity to june. it wasn't like their bodies were completely pressed against each other, but they could've been had they taken not even a half a step towards one another. their personal space boundaries had shattered, leaving two awfully flustered opposites to recover in its wake. the fact that it wasn't hatred emerging from his body in forms of steam was beyond him. instead, it was thankfulness. she could've easily slapped him directly in the face, reprimanded him, turned him into her mother... but she hadn't. the good princess herself was standing there, not dead by his hands, but perfectly okay. literally, the only harm that she'd come to around him was clumsily self-inflicted. his mother, in no way, would be proud.
        ________then, in the blink of an eye, she had gone. she excused herself by using her stained dress as an excuse, scurrying from the room in a mass of blushes and smiles. her heavenly warmth was then gone, leaving him in the dust. the blissful moment they'd just endured, or whatever you could call what had happened, was now like a distant memory. he stood rigid, chocolate eyes glued where juniper had previously stood. he brought the apple back to his lips, crunching into it in the most depressed, "i'm so hopeless" way possible. he had wilted like a dying flower, going in slow motion as he pressed all of his bodily weight into the wooden table behind him. what was that? why'd he do that? why had they sat there and stared at each other? what had any of that meant? did it have a meaning at all? all those unanswered questions, and he was still flushed with guilt after scolding her. if she hadn't hated him before, she had to hate him now. that was likely why she'd taken off, because she didn't wish to be around him anymore. he couldn't find it in himself to blame her either. he glanced down at the red fruit held in his tight grasp, maneuvering it about in between his fingertips. for whatever reason, he was pouting. he wished diaval had been around, and then he wouldn't feel quite as alone.
        ________"aww, sorry buddy. really, such a shame. i was totally rooting for you guys." lark's head shot up, genuinely startled by the newcomer. his surprise was ejected into his apple, a sudden spell shooting from his hand and directly into what remained of the food. the green dust was sucked directly into it, causing it to, quite literally, burst like a bubble. its juices spattered the floor, and as did the few solid pieces which survived the miniature explosion. luckily, lark had moved away quick enough so that he hadn't gotten splattered by any of the debris. after realizing what he'd done, he shot a foul glance at the entrance to the kitchen. jazz. peter pan's boy cocked his hip, an eruption of laughter flying from his crooked mouth. "oh, dude, i'm so sorry. did i really scare you that badly? jeez, chill. it's just me." the boy entered the room the rest of the way, his shoes squishing into the soiled apple bits that now littered the floor. the dark fairy exhaled irritably, running his hands across his face. he was startled to find he was sweating, as if the brief stare-down with juniper had made him that nervous. he shook his head, shooting a bitter glance at jazz. "it's fine, honestly, i just... i just have to clean it up now. i've caused enough harm today." he began to make his way towards the sink, intent on grabbing a wash cloth, but jazz suddenly reached out and fastened his grip on the dark fairy's wrist. the words "personal space" were right on the tip of his tongue as he whipped his head around, ready to tell jazz off about not messing with him when he was having some temper management issues, but was immediately silenced. much like when he'd been so close to juniper before, he was stunned to a point where no words made sense to say. yet, the emotions fluttering in the bottom of his stomach were fairly different in comparison to what he'd felt with june. the uneasiness was still there, but it wasn't exactly the same. why? well, because of the rather startling expression on jasper's face. it was the most wicked smirk, filled with a fiery passion and darkness all-too familiar to lark. he saw the same look in his own reflection sometimes, or on his mum. but a good? unheard of. it was a mesmerizing sight to bare witness to.
        ________the smirk vanished about as quickly as it had come, which was a bit difficult to take in. he'd felt like it had lasted an eternity, but turns out it was only a matter of seconds. "hey, no, i'll take care of it. seriously. it was my fault, after all. consider me your right-hand man, alright? go after her. swim among the stars, lovebirds!" jazz beamed innocently, before releasing lark's wrist from his surprisingly restrictive grip. lark blinked, furrowing his brows confusedly as he peered down at his freed wrist. yet, somehow, he managed to brush off his confusion. "not lovebirds. i, ah... not lovebirds, but okay." he began to hurry from the room, before he whirled back around and pointed sternly at peter pan's son. "we don't speak of this to anyone. i don't know how much you saw, but no one. i'm serious, or else," he paused, before proceeding to slide his fingertip across his throat in a slitting motion. jazz released a confident chuckle, lifting a rag from the sink. "your secret is safe with me. lovebirds." lark began to parade out of the room, out of jazz's sight, before calling a finalizing "not lovebirds!" over his shoulder. his destination was currently unknown, and what he would do when he got there was also a mystery, but he figured his feet knew the way better than his brain. jazz had been strongly suggestive, insinuating lark ought to follow the princess. why would he do that? a seemingly new unanswered question... for the time being.
        ________the halls were vast and never-ending, as usual. he still had no clue where he was trying to go, but his long legs were carrying him somewhere with definite purpose. somewhere halfway through his journey, he began to hear the gentle pitter-patter of footsteps. in his concentration, he hadn't even noticed he'd been following them. a peered his head around a turn between two halls, connecting the dots. juniper. he was following juniper. he clung to the shadows, suddenly grateful for his black clothes more than ever before. the darkness cast in from the enormous windows helped him mold into his surroundings, becoming undetectable. he wasn't certain whether it was something he was allowed to brag about or not, but he was an awfully skilled people-watcher. he could stalk them day-in and day-out, and they'd never even notice.
        ________the princess was all the way down the hall he was peeping into, him hidden behind the shadowed corner. she shoved aside some doors, and disappeared from view. he hesitated, but quickly found himself going after her once more. he scrambled down the wide expanse of space, driven by who knows what to who knows where. the moment he reached the door, he awkwardly peeked in. he was careful to not let his horns peek through the jar in the entrance, instead keeping his entire body hidden behind the door as he stared in. he only had one eye looking through the crack at first, but gradually pulled the door open more so that he could look with two. low and behold, juniper was dancing. alone, but dancing. and she was having a hell of a time too, laughing sprightly as she twirled through the room. it must've been a ballroom, not too large but also not too small. in fact, it was perfect. it left the prince breathless, and as did juniper herself. the purpose of him following her began to become clearer and clearer, the clouds shying away from concealing his reasoning. had he come to feel her warmth again? to be around a good who could see past his evil, and instead see him as just another man? he was a beast of tragedy and devastation, but there was still the miraculous and unspeakable bond they had secretly been forming in their time together. juniper didn't hate lark, and lark didn't hate juniper.
        ________it had been happening a lot recently, but his legs began to move before his brain could decide otherwise. he'd become an impulsive mess around the princess, and it made no sense. but neither did anything else in their relationship, so why would he be surprised? she had an effect on him, the prince of malevolence, that no one had with him before. in their week together, so much had changed within him. whether that was a good or a bad thing, he couldn't tell. but it had to be somewhat good, as it had urged him to open up to the girl. the word was foul, and his mother would take his head for it, but he saw something in her that he'd never gotten with anyone else. only diaval, but even that was different. trust. there was real, true, in-the-flesh... trust. and, lord, did it feel amazing. lark felt passionately guilty about shouting at her, so much so that he'd followed her all the way here to finally be gutsy enough and properly apologize. but what he did instead, he didn't believe he had control over his body. it became a slave to his muddled emotions, and suddenly he stood before the princess. horns, pointed ears, black clothing... his full glory, in the ballroom, with only juniper as his company.
        ________"you have it all wrong," lark spoke up, his voice cracking like the thunder that began to reek havoc outside, "you're meant to have a partner." then, he had extended his rather lengthy arm to her. his fingers were outstretched, expectant and wishing to be vacant. "your majesty," he bowed, "might i have this dance?"




      ━━━━━━━━━ diaval ;;

        ________diaval watched intently as roya rose from her bed, addressing him as "you" before slowly approaching him. he backed off a few paces as a response, instinctively wary. whether he could turn into a human or not, he was born a crow. he was quirky, scatterbrained, and maybe just a little bit silly. despite the trust he knew he could instill in jafar's daughter, his primal woes knocked him down several pegs. he was cautious when it came to anything, which was why he was likely the greatest being to ever watch over someone like lark. he'd been a reckless young man, constantly in an adventurous state of mind. he would explore the entire forest by tree, scampering among the brambles and causing chaos along the way. he had been by the boy's side through it all, flying as his willing companion. he'd witnessed lark's first murder, and had been there to hug him when no one else would. diaval had been in his twenties then, representing more of a father figure for his young master than his real one. the warlock had rarely come around since lark's birth, and was rather cruel. he'd cursed the poor prince when in the womb, marring his back. the wicked man had attempted to curse his son a second time, much later in life, but diaval had halted him in his tracks. he'd appeared before the young child before anymore harm could come to him, taking the blow full force. from then on, he'd had quite the array of scars lining his face, arms, and chest. the curse had been intended to fatally wound its victim, and would've succeeded had it struck someone as small and delicate as young lark. but diaval had taken it instead, and had lived to tell the tale. he was a brave soul, and was willing to do anything if it meant the dark fairy was protected.
        ________roya's words were soothing enough to confide in, as he eventually settled himself as she began to help him patch his wound. he blinked his eyes at her, releasing a few gentle noises as she helped fix him. it would sting on occasion, thanks to etselle's deep claws, but she was doing her best at being gentle. he clucked at her rather cheerfully to indicate her kindness had not gone unnoticed, as the bulk of his strife had alleviated. her comments on jazz also did not go unheard, as he was listening with his most respectful attention. maleficent had trained him on how to behave in front of her when she spoke, sitting willingly and allowing her to speak. he supposed the same rules applied to roya, and he much less reluctant to hear her out. although she'd made quite the show concerning jasper, hiding away in the attic to mope, her thoughts on him were intriguing. the boy was certainly a curious fellow, but he wasn't sure he'd go as far as to say he wasn't any good. it was in his job description, wasn't it? to be a good? after all, his father had been one, and so had his mother. surely bloodline had something to do with it. it worked that way when it came to lark, juniper, and most of the rest. although, it didn't pertain to roya. so who knows? her points, although heavily influenced by her spite towards jazz accusing her of stealing, could be rather valid. but she was right on one thing, that was for certain. nobody could decipher anything so long as he did nothing. he had yet to give diaval any reason to feel any distrust towards him, and that spoke volumes. the crow didn't have trust issues like lark, but he did enjoy being careful with who he befriended.
        ________diaval subconsciously leaned his small head into roya's fingertips, allowing her to stroke his wet feathers. he released a few noises akin to a cat's purr, or like an excited "click". he liked roya. she was kind, and she pet him, which made him feel like he was in paradise. her voice was a calming hum, soothing him and causing him to forget about the raging storm outside. she continued to speak with him like he were her therapist, which was quite humorous. he was used to it, though. he'd sat and listened to maleficent and lark rant about the world, so this was nothing new. and she spoke of a boy, one he had yet to be introduced to, and he didn't believe any of the other inhabitants in the palace knew of him either. roux? the name was unfamiliar, and he figured it must've been someone awfully special, as roya was completely infatuated by him. whether she was pleased to admit it herself, she was. oh, to be young again. teenage romance was some of the best. diaval hadn't earned himself a partner, as he was rescued by maleficent at an extremely young age. he was just a boy without a brain in his head. he'd gotten himself stuck in a hunter's trap, and was going to be killed. but maleficent had rescued him, turning him into a human, granting him his newfound powers at the price of servant-hood. he had, of course, agreed. he owed her his life! but it had been a massive mistake, as he quickly discovered that he was more of a prisoner than a loyal companion. but there was no escaping her and her evil wrath; he'd tried, oh yes. but as punishment, she'd put him in shackles until he learned to behave obediently so he remained by her side until he was passed onto lark. the happiest day of his life was when he discovered that lark, really and truly, wasn't like his mum. no matter how many people lark would coldly murder, he would never be maleficent. but diaval could not tell the young prince this, or he was sure to be slapped. lark wanted to be his mother so he could take her throne and make her proud, but what he failed to realize was that there was no impressing the physical representation of wickedness.
        ________diaval clicked pleasantly as he was bombarded with compliments, roya showering him with love. her words caused his stomach feathers to puff outwardly, brandishing his otherwise soaked figure with some body. she made great efforts towards warming him, even wrapping a blanket around his miniature body. however, the thunder startled both of them. he winced, and was startled to life the moment she bumped into him. his wings flapped underneath the covers, now made rather anxious by the chaos outside. had he been in his human form, he would've been cowering in a tight ball. storms were the worst. they soaked his body, and were extremely deadly in most cases. when still a lowly crow, he'd witnessed another being electrocuted by lightning. from then, he was horrified that he would be too. lark would roll his eyes, but then would willingly allow the small bird to hide in his cloak. if not his cloak, then in his pale arms. anything to shy him away from the danger of the storm. and lark liked to stay in the trees, of all places, during them. that brought them even closer to the sky, thus causing the thunder to be all the more deafening.
        ________roya busied herself with placing a bucket beneath the gap he'd come in from, attempting to catch some of the rain so it didn't flood the attic. he tilted his head quizzically as she continued to converse with him, blissfully unaware of how conscious he was of everything. she brought up jazz a second time, and as did she with roux. two men who'd clearly ensnared her attention for two totally different reasons... funny. one to hate, and one to love. he watched as she settled down on the hardwood flooring, before then rising back up to face him. she'd been asking him a handful of questions, and it had become quite the bother leaving them unanswered. she was so lonely, and he couldn't prevent that if he kept his beak shut. he didn't consider his actions too much, nor did he form an in-depth excuse as to why it was a good idea. lark had specifically told him not to reveal his human form to any of the goods, as his existence was quite miraculous. he normally followed his master's orders without question, but in that particular moment he'd forgotten them all. diaval spread his wings, cocking his head forward. he made a slightly strained noise, his wings becoming larger and larger as his body began to grow along with them. his body was morphing, transitioning him from one form and into another. soon enough, he'd grown to his fullest potential. the crow no longer possessed his wings, and his feathers had absorbed into his body to be replaced by human skin. the black of his feathered coating was now seen in his clothing, being an ebony trench coat and several other layers of the same shade beneath it. his shirt dipped low where his chest was, revealing his past scars. he had a face now too, with hair and lips instead of a beak. his irises were completely black, holding no legitimate color asides from the standard white of his eye. the only indications that he was still the same being were the feathers mixed into his jet black hair, and the blood still drizzling from his arm. there were claw-shaped rips in his coat, rather massive. his wound had grown with him, enlarging to a point where it looked like he'd been assaulted by godzilla instead of etselle.
        ________in retrospect, he probably shouldn't have done this. diaval looked over in roya's direction, still a bit into his primal instincts before he shook it off with a light grunt. "why, roya, that's not very evil of you." he pulled the blanket around himself a bit tighter, doing what he could to forget about the storm. "but i suppose so long as this "roux" isn't out to betray you by faking his affection, then sure. love one another shamelessly."
        ________there was a knock at the window, and his head snapped upwards instinctively. there was a massive storm going on outside, what on earth could be lurking on the rooftops other than a bird seeking shelter? only a fool would willingly journey through the mass of severe weather that was currently raging war with earth. he climbed to his feet, a bit clumsy as he was only just emerging from his crow form. he held his bleeding arm with his opposite hand, standing at his full height as he strode towards the window. he peered through the rain-spattered glass, spotting, among all things, a person. soaked to the bone, and looking rather hopeful. "oh, my," diaval said, rather startled. "right on cue. might this be the infamous roux you spoke of?" he asked, acting as though it weren't even remotely shocking that he'd changed from a crow to a human. "oh, and where are my manners? God, i'm not with it. this storm has me flustered. i am diaval, miss, at your service. nameless's servant." lark hated it when diaval referred himself as "his servant", despite that being exactly what he was. but lark disliked it, insisting he call him his "friend". but that identification was incorrect. "or pet, i suppose. depends on how you see me." he hissed in pain for a moment, etselle's wound beginning to sear unexpectedly. "but don't pay me any mind, dear, really. you've got company."
Last edited by daz on Sun Jul 10, 2016 8:41 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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HELLO
C R Y B A B Y !!

hmm

1x1 search ;; always eager for a group roleplay.
he/him ;; adult ;; infp/infj ;; libra ;; queer
hey there, i'm daz.
i'm sort of a cs vet, working on my own novels now.
writing constantly alongside my girlfriend + our four
cats. identifiable as a colored hair enthusiast, a
professional lefty, and an exhausted writer on
constant autopilot.

my pm box is open for site-related questions &
friendship whenever needed.


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Re: One On One- daz and Mac457

Postby vixen; » Tue Jul 05, 2016 6:24 pm

Juniper
June had danced around the ballroom, her dress flying as she twirled again. June loved to dance, almost like Lark loved the sky. Growing up in a castle had its downside, for one despite people coming to the castle, June was alone mostly expect for the guards and maids. As Juniper grew older she had explored every inch of the castle ...twice. At age twelve, young June had found a new playmate. The castle guards; they were all older than her, some older than her father, others in their early twenties. One or two would always be around to play with the young princess. There was one guard, he stood out among the others. Juniper had long since forgotten his name, his image a blur in her memory. But he was all ways around to play with June. Why had this guard stood out to June, well when they met she was fourteen. He was the youngest of the guards, nineteen. Her first crush. That's why he had stood out, yes, June had picked a cute guard to crush on. A mop of dirty blond hair crowned his face. And that's all June remembers of the guard, physically at least. Emotionally, he was sweet, smart but not too smart. He was protective of his food, more of a hoarder when it came to anything sweet. Then the got married. Can't blame his wife, he was cute. June pictured him as the phantom she was dancing with. A faceless, blond haired phantom held June's hand as the princess giggled. Phantom dancing, as June liked to call it, was a good way to pass the time. Her parents had been sending her off on her own much more recently, this was often June's entertainment.

The princess was unaware of Lark's presence, her eyes were closed, she was humming softly. June twirled again, her humming abruptly stopping. June's eyes stayed close, a frowned appeared. She had forgotten how the song went. June opened her eyes her back facing Lark. She repeated the last verse of the song she was humming, then smiled as she remembered how the song went. She closed her eyes, beginning to hum again. June twirled again, setting her foot down in a set pattern. Her feet followed the pattern, having traced this same pattern millions of times before. June laughed again, this was stupid, to be dancing alone. Her mother would be horrified at how June was acting. Juniper had no regrets. Not a single one. June twirled again, this time her foot slipped. The princess's eyes flew open. June put her hand down, pushing herself up. June stood there for a moment, her smile gone, she sighed now. This would be the time when a prince rushed to June's assistance, followed by a dozen more. Slowly it would become hard to breath as the prince's seemed to suffocate her. On more than one occasion June's father was her saving grace, the king of Good would walk to the aid of his daughter, the princes bowed respectfully, and June would eagerly take her father's hand, being led away from the princes. A ball was thrown every week or so, most of the time the king came to rescue his daughter. But other times, Cinderella would hold her husband back, insisting that June solve this for herself. That ended with June fleeing the ball room in a mess of lower expectation, messy hair, and close to tears. Once you told those princes that you didn't care what condition their armor was or that they could go find another girl because June wasn't looking, they became quite vicious. Spewing insults, rude words and insulting names at June. The quote looks can be deceiving had never been so true as when June saw those princes for what they really were, immature spoiled brats, pampered by the fathers, spoiled by their mothers.

Thunder roared outside, covering the sound of Lark's footsteps. June had begun to dance again, once again her smile was there. She was thrilled, happy to be dancing in the darker lighting. June twirled in and out of shadows, her face darkened by the light. Juniper stopped in the middle of the ballroom. Something had changed, June looked around her, trying to find what had changed. She looked over at the servants quarters door, ready to flee at a moments notice. To balance out the fact that June had zero survival skills June knew the castle inside and out. She could easily lose anyone following her, it would take a while to do so, but June had thought about this before. Cinderella often went into rants about how one day someone was going to threaten her life, not June's life, Cinderella's own life. It was her primary concern, not her only child, but herself. To her father, June was top priority, always. It hurt Juniper, after realizing that her mother wasn't talking about June, but herself. Despite that, her mother's ranting did come with benefits, June had planned what to do. More than likely it would never work, June was clumsy in most situation's, the makeshift bandage on her hand was proof that she wasn't graceful.

June's ungraceful way was a point of distress for her mother, who was the queen of gracefulness, her father was the king of all things even remotely regal. June, the product of gracefulness at its finest and anything regal, was living proof of how clumsy people can truly be: getting clumsy June for a daughter could be compared to two dogs having a cat. But Cinderella refused to believe that her child was ungraceful, bringing in multiple trainers, handlers, other princess to try and 'fix' June's clumsiness. But you can't fix what isn't broken. And to this day June is still as clumsy as always, and nothing is going to take that out of her. June twirled, her dress following the movements of the young princess. June looked graceful as she twirled, it was just a disguise. Anyone who had ever known the princess knew that she would fall eventually, get lightheaded and have to stop dancing, probably walk into a wall at some point. And those people were right, moments later June slipped again, her feet breaking the pattern once more. June was close to abandoning the dance, ready to try and find some other form of entertainment. A voice filled the ballroom.

June turned around. Her eyes focusing on Lark. She took a step back, then smiled at the prince as she realized there was no danger here. June thought he had come to gloat, to tease her, or tell her she was being stupid. Her feet refused to move, her mind was running wild, but her body had shut down, trapping her in one spot. But he asked for a dance. Of all things. June expected him to ask her to give him the deed to the Good kingdom before asking her to dance. June stared at Lark with a shocked expression, her hands were held in front of her, holding onto one another, her feet refused to move, her mind was running wild, but her body had shut down, trapping her in one spot. The princess bit her lip, the only thing she managed to do. June took a shaking breath. Why was this so difficult. She done this dozen of times before, she complete strangers, people she had never once met. And here he stood before her, seeming to have materialized out of thin air. June's eyes darted to the door to the ballroom, now opened. That answered one question, countless more taking its place. The biggest question of all was why. Why had he not killed her, why had he not imprisoned her, or handed her over to Maleficence?

In one moment, her body awoke, now fully functional. It moved without her wanting it to, taking it's own course of action. She looked down at his hand, slowly she took his hand. Her mouth moved without her command, uttering two words: "You may."


Roya
the crow was a... man. a man? that wasn't possible. roya backed away from the crow man thing. this was lark's pet? how. roya's mind scrambled to find an answer. this was impossible, unrealistic. a crow to a man. roya was even more surprised as the crow. as the man. as the man crow thing began to talk. roya tilted her head, extremely confused. as diaval walked to the window, mentioning roux. her heart jumped out of her chest. not literally, that's even more impossible than the crow to man transition. roya ran to the window, throwing it open. she looked down at roux, rain blew into the attic, drenching roya as she stood there.

he was here. here at the palace. roya almost squealed, which repulsed her, the thought of being so giddy was making her sick. but roya looked at the man that was outside her window. roya grabbed onto roux's arm, trying to pull him in. she looked over at diaval. she winced at the sight of his wound, now more than twice the size of its original. roya looked back at roux, her priorities split. pull the man that she was crushing on inside the attic, or help her newfound friend. roux had climbed up this far, he would be safe for a few more moments. roya grabbed another rag, walking over to diaval, she gently pulled his wounded arm done. she wrapped the rag around his arm, tying it before going to retrieve another rag. she tried her best to bandage the wound, but roya wasn't experienced in the art of bandage tying or wound mending. she tied the rag, glancing back at the window. she wiped at the wound. her eyes darted over to the bucket. roya grabbed another rag, dunking it in the bucket. she walked back to diaval, wrapping the cloth around the wound. she looked at diaval. "you are my company. and you're hurt." roya glanced back at the window. "just climb in." she called to roux or who she hoped was roux, if not she had just invited a true stranger into the palace. she doubted june would be happy about that.

roya got another blanket, her makeshift bed now ruined. but that was the least of her worries, she focused on diaval as she pulled the blanket around him. roya put her hand on the side of his face, still seeing the innocent animal in the man. "you're safe." she smiled at him, then looked back at the window. "you okay?" she called to roux. roya got the remaining two blankets off of the bed, leaving nothing but half a pile of rags that use to be a pillow. she draped one more over diaval, then went to the window. she looked down at the man, he looked like roux, the rain and dark sky didn't help with trying to see who it was. roya pulled the man inside the attic, unavailable to hold him up, she lost her grip on his drenched shirt, wiping her hands on her pants. roya looked over at diaval, then back at roux. she sat him up, trying her best. roya was awfully small for someone her age, out of all the people currently in the castle. roya held the title of shortest.

she took the blanket, covering roux with it. the window was roya's biggest enemy within the attic, standing more than twice her height, and almost twice as wide as roya as well. the tiny, young woman leaned into the window, having to use all of her weight to close it. roya managed to shut the window, brushing the wet hair out of her face. she went to diaval, checking the bandage on his arm. she got another rag, walked half way to diaval, then turned back, picking up another rag. she dropped one of the rag's in front of roux, then hurried over to roux. she wrapped the rag around diaval's wound, she secured the rag. roya walked over to roux, taking the rag she had dropped nearby. roya began wiping away at roux's face, trying her best to dry him off. her heart jumped out of her chest as she looked at him, her eyes lingering just a second to long on his before she looked away. she handed him the rag, her gaze directed to the red necklace. she didn't ask about it, walking back to where her bed had been. she sat down, directing her attention to both of them. she would look at diaval then at roux. she would pause, then glanced down at her hand. roya moved her hair out of her face, then returned to her watching of the two.
hi! i haven't been on this site in years. i'm pretty open to trading away my pets as i doubt that i will be on here again.
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Re: One On One- daz and Mac457

Postby daz » Sat Jul 09, 2016 9:22 pm

      ━━━━━━━━━ lark ;;

        ________lark felt as though he'd made the most massive error known to man, his hand still lingering before him emptily. he'd not only intruded on the princess's rather peaceful moment, he'd requested he join her directly after insisting that she hate him. what sense did that make? if you were to look at it realistically, then it would certainly not be the most logical course of action. but since when did lark like to stick with what was deemed normal, and what was deemed stupid? his specialty seemed to be blending the two together, creating a most unusual and primarily disastrous mixture. although, it didn't look as though his current situation would have the same outcome as the rest. his mistakes were rarely rewarded, but the good princess was definitely known more for her forgiving nature than her grudging. rather than shoving the prince away, she accepted his offer. her soft hand was placed in his cold one, holding it tenderly with her feminine strength. to say the least, he was extremely taken aback. he raised his head, as he'd been bowing it respectfully, locking eyes with the shorter woman before him. she didn't look disgusted with him, and there was only a hint of mild surprise which christened her lovely features. lovely? yeah, she was attractive. so was roya, but there was a difference in the way he felt about it. he thought fondly of roya because they had formed a friendship, but this princess was another genre of story. it was a most indescribable sensation which overtook his body, crashing over him like a massive wave. he found he was holding his breath as he squeezed her hand back, giving it a gentle tug so that their bodies became closer together. as it happens, he wasn't that uncomfortable. much like their moment back in the kitchen, where jazz had evidently been lurking, they were at peace when placed nearby the other. it was yet another reason to question their relationship, and how ridiculous it had become in under a week. how did they get to this point?
        ________the order of things was a complicated puzzle, which happened to be missing multiple vital pieces. their first together, they'd not exactly hated one another. lark was pretty sure june was a bit cautious around him, and realistically he had been the same. there was no trust there, and there should've never been. but then lark rescued roya from the band of rioting villagers, and a piece clicked in in an askew fashion. it contorted the way the trio viewed each other, and suddenly there was a budding bond among them. they'd expanded their group to allow jazz in, but nothing could quite top the significant way the original three had begun. all of them came from such unique backgrounds, but somehow they could simultaneously get along. there was a sense of silent understanding they had, whether it was voiced aloud or not. lark, juniper, and roya alike surely should've felt it. they were more than allies... practically like an awkward family that they'd each missed out on having. it was why they hadn't chased each other off yet, because they appreciated the company and the unity. it was a tough nut to crack, and they had no idea how much more miserable things would become in the future. either way, here they were presently. lark wasn't sure he wanted to refer to cinderella's daughter as his friend, nor acquaintance, but what else was there? awkward companion? a stranger with benefits? they weren't enemies, that was for certain. enemies didn't join hands and dance.
        ________the dark fairy didn't thank juniper for accepting him, feeling as though his silence spoke volumes about how he felt. he wasn't prone to thank you's anyway, stemming from his hatred for emotion. graciousness was just another emotion to despise, so he did his best to pretend it was nonexistent. diaval had one hell of a time reminding him of how foolish that was, but lark wasn't afraid to put his servant back in his place. they had a special bond, but there were times where he had to remind diaval of his status between the two of them. in moments such as this, he was relieved the silly bird wasn't around to pester him. undoubtedly, his elder servant wouldn't hesitate to giddily taunt lark for actually dancing with the woman he was persistent to dislike.
        ________lark placed his left hand, being his dominant, on juniper's waistline. it gave him the opportunity to feel how small she was in comparison to him, with her female physique and over-all daintiness. she suited her shape, nonetheless, and her radiating warmth as well. it was projected into him as he drew closer, to a point where juniper would have to crane her neck in order to see the tips of his massive horns. he gazed down at her vulnerable figure, a rather filthy thought immediately crossing his mind. it was his instinct making an untimely reappearance, reminding him of his power over the princess. he could easily throttle her, or blast a poisonous gas directly into her throat. he could give her a drawn out, tragic, and horrific death right then and there. she wouldn't have the opportunity to escape his grasp, and there she would die. he could make maleficent proud, and it could potentially even strengthen their currently nonexistent relationship. at last, she would see potential in her boy's abilities. she would hope to look after him more, or consider him more worthy of her delicate throne. because as of right now, she had yet to show much interest in allowing him to take over for her. she could choose to retire whenever she pleased, or would simply die out of power, but she was rather powerful. lark had to prove to her that he was worthy of the job, and even after the countless innocent people he'd slaughtered she still didn't see it in him enough. would slaying the good princess be his ticket to happiness? he found himself frowning faintly at such a devilish thought, taking it and pressing it at the very back of his mind. the last thing he wished to do was harm juniper, especially after everything she'd done for him today. she'd made such extensive efforts so that he was welcomed in her castle, and his way of showing gratefulness would've been murder? well, that was the evil way of doing things... but lark had never been the most stereotypical embodiment of evil, had he?
        ________it was then that they were dancing. lark and june, in unison as partners. the princess had been alone before, twirling and skipping in her usual clumsy fashion. but it was almost as though the dark fairy's natural poise assisted her, being the thing which could balance her out. he'd never been that into dancing, and would avoid it at all costs. the evil realms didn't throw balls, celebrations, or parties of any sort. they were too grumpy all of the time, easily laughing in the face of the goods whenever they hosted their lighthearted festivities. but, of course, lark had watched plenty of them. primarily the ones enjoyed outside, as it was too risky attempting to pry on ones going on within castles, where he could spy from the treetops. he could sit there for ages, lulled to sleep by the cheerful music and sprightly dancing. he'd destroyed some in his time as well, where he would show up to bring hell to the happy events. but when he could get a better grasp on himself, ignoring his mother's phantom presence for a while, he would simply... sit and observe. in doing so, he'd learned how to properly dance. when he was a little boy, and he'd been far less embarrassed to do innocent things, he'd danced with diaval. the older man had willingly helped lark get a better grasp on the art of appropriate dance, and they educated themselves together. apparently, diaval hadn't known what he was doing either. but after some time and extensive practice, the dark fairy became rather skilled. he had a natural grace about him that many princes would envy, and he carried himself in such a way that you could see his priority was his partner, and not himself. that was the issue with plenty of the other princes in the world of balls; the men would focus far more intently on themselves, chatting the woman's head off about how incredible a person they felt they were. for whatever reason, they were usually such uptight and arrogant individuals. it made lark tired seeing the sight, so he'd made a right point about doing it differently. he would much rather bring attention to who he was with than himself, as he'd never thought of himself as much of a marvel anyways. the prince killed for a living, there was nothing to glorify.
        ________he'd noticed the moment he peeped into the room, but it became all the more evident as he and juniper danced around in rather startling harmony. it was a perfect space for this purpose, somehow being the exact size it should've been. nothing too overwhelming, where if you looked anywhere but your partner you'd begin to query that your head would explode. but also, nothing so small that you were concerned about bumping into the walls as you performed a twirl. it worked efficiently well for him and juniper as they danced, which brought a tiny smile to his porcelain face. his chocolate brown gaze eased into the colorful pools which belonged to the princess, somehow managing to forget about their parents' feuds as he thoughtlessly waltzed. he knew if he began to concentrate on anything other than her, he'd pull away. he didn't want to, but upon instinct there wasn't a chance he'd stick around. it would ruin a rather priceless moment they were both seeming to enjoy, and afterwards it was doubtful he'd ever pull anything like this again. the evil prince was not supposed to dance with the good princess, for their blood insisted that they were to hate one another. lark was meant to kill juniper, and juniper was meant to jail lark. but rather than doing that, they chose to dance of all things. well, that was certainly one way to forget about your problems. shun the world that was so against them, and shun the dark thoughts which insisted lark make a move to murder juniper... simply find ease in each step, and laugh senselessly whenever either of them would trip up. despite being polar opposites, they fit this mold awfully well. they sort of belonged there, in a position where they were together and their bodies clung and their eyes locked. not to mention, juniper had a lovely pair of rather plump lips. he hadn't exactly noticed it before, but it became apparent that he couldn't stop looking at them after awhile. if maleficent could see him now, she would have his head. the evil throne was becoming farther and farther out of reach every moment he began to realize how easy it was to relax around the good princess, and his instinctive morals vanished down an invisible drain. for once in his life, lark felt utterly powerless as he sank further and further into a peaceful heaven. a guilty pleasure. pinned to a most splendid woman, unafraid of capture and forgetting the strife which came from his mother and the pressure to be her perfect replica. in that moment, he was probably the farthest he'd ever been from a sadistic fairy like his mum.




      ━━━━━━━━━ diaval ;;

        ________diaval stepped aside from the front of the window, allowing roya to throw it open and peer down at the stranger. he could only assume it must've been roux, for no one else would be as stupid as to climb a tower in the middle of a massive storm. this man also seemed to hold a sincere purpose in his glittering, blue gaze, wishing to see his companion. had it been some sort of robber, they wouldn't have bore such an innocent glow. the raven also trusted roya's judgement, figuring she could logically make the call of who the man was. she would permit him to enter the safety of the attic, so long as she could confirm and recognize who she was dealing with. if need be, diaval certainly wasn't afraid to knock someone who could potentially endanger the girl directly off the windowsill. but her expression proved that his guess was correct, and he had nothing to be concerned about. he returned his attention to his wounds, cautiously shouldering his right coat sleeve off so that he could inspect the damage. his man form made it look much worse than it must've been previously, as it had grown in size as well as severity. he lightly ran his fingers across the jagged, claw-shaped gashes, hissing at how badly they stung. no wonder lark despised cats so much; they were such a bother, and obviously were one of the most common predators his natural species had. but he had a greater disliking for dogs, as they'd been the beasts who would've likely torn his beaten body to shreds the day maleficent rescued him from the pesky farmer. the man had pinned him beneath a net, bringing a hefty stick back intent on snapping diaval's neck. a multitude of barking, snapping, and drooling dogs had surrounded him too, deeming his situation all the more dangerous. it would've been a most brutal passing had it not been for maleficent's display of kindess... that sort of bliss wasn't allowed to last for long.
        ________diaval stared quizzically at roya as she abandoned the man in the window, instead returning her primary attention to him and his nasty predicament. he wrinkled his nose as she tied a makeshift bandage around the wound, helping halt most of the bleeding. the crimson liquid no longer drizzled lazily down his arm, contrasting greatly in comparison to his sickly pale skin. he rested his opposite hand against roya's handiwork, uncertain how he should react. but, he knew he was certainly gracious for her unwanted kindness; he'd never been like lark either, who was determined any and all displays of emotion were a sin. a lot of times, his responsibility was to respectfully express his gratitude for anyone who did not project ill will in his direction. few saw him as more than dirt beneath their feet, so he would accept any random displays of kindness he was granted.
        ________"thank you," the crow murmured rather shyly, before hurrying to bow his head as a display of his utmost respect for the woman who'd so kindly tended to him. nothing had forced her into it, and something about her determination to assist him was heart-warming and sadly scarce for a creature like himself. but he was completely used to the rather foul treatment, seeing as it was his literal job to take it in strides. what he wanted was the least of the majority of others' concern, so it was rather flattering when someone chose to ignore that aspect of him. it was such a simple gesture, patching up his wounds with not even a hint of professionalism, but her care was sentimental. her actions easily proved where she stood in the balance between good and evil, and it was not determined by her parentage. she was absolutely nothing like her foul father, who diaval knew cared for nothing more than riches. he had an obsession with power, and had attempted to ease maleficent from her position of leadership plenty of times. in fact, diaval himself had been sent as a messenger to inform the irritable king he was crossing a line with his undesirable and faintly pushy requests. he'd flown to jafar's kingdom to voice maleficent's simplistic command: "it isn't happening." but roya was nothing like her dad, who had tunnel vision when it came to what he wanted and what others needed. he taxed his kingdom till they were swimming in poverty, but would still not stop till he had gotten his fill. he got satisfaction from watching others in misery, and thus far it hadn't looked as though roya was in agreement for such behavior. no wonder she'd run away from home, really. she didn't belong with a man who didn't have time to love her.
        ________diaval was startled to find roya covering him with one of her blankets, the soft fabric draped over his broad shoulders. he accepted it without protest, taking the ends in his fists and drawing the warmth around his still rather damp body. he smiled faintly to himself, until he felt a hand pressed against his scarred face. one short, particularly jagged line stood out against his pale complexion; it traced the side of eye, which had now widened and softened as roya's words struck him directly. although, the moment he peered into the colorful pools which belonged to the girl, he forced himself to look at her feet instead. he had been conditioned to do so, as it was a way of showing "respect". maleficent had told him that, along with plenty of other nonsense things which he presently followed like a religion. he wasn't supposed to make eye contact with anyone, as he was beneath them all. since when did dirt have any right to do such a simple gesture as meeting gazes? he wasn't allowed such a luxury, and no matter how hard lark tried he couldn't break the fidgety habit. but what she said was a comfort, which eased his rather tensed body. he was safe. that was such a lovely, truly careful thing to say. although, his moment of relaxation wasn't able to last long. a great flash of lightning filled the room, a gust of wind causing buckets of rainfall to hammer into the attic and through the open window. only seconds after, a noise akin to a million boulders plummeting to the earth clogged the thick air. he gasped in terror, flinching away from roya's hand so that he could bury his face in the covers she'd provided him with. it served as an efficient shield, blocking out the worst of the commotion raging on outside. diaval had been born a raven, meaning he instinctively felt much smaller in comparison to something as massive as a petrifying storm. back when he'd only been a bird, he would cower in trees whenever the weather decided to alternate randomly and send rain to taunt his miniature figure. he had been so young then, so he'd felt even smaller than he did now. cold, alone, and shivering... he'd felt so hopeless. then, after witnessing a fellow crow being electrocuted by a bolt of unlucky lightning, he'd been scarred to despise stormy weather. lark, unfortunately, found it beautiful. it was a rather problematic quality to have, especially when diaval wanted to fly away and hide rather than linger closer to the eye of the storm.
        ________diaval only returned to reality when another blanket was placed over his back, and roya went to lug roux from his inconvenient position in the window. he flopped into the attic clumsily, his soaking clothes emitting a remorseful squish the moment he hit the hardwood ground. the crow watched from the shadows, quiet so as to not disturb the two as roya tended to the boy she thought so fondly of. he would admit it, the boy was handsome. his features were sculpted wonderfully, suiting him in a rather unique fashion. his hair was somewhat long, but was made up for by the way each strand curled tightly. although, most of it had flattened due to the rain. he also had a sword fastened to his belt, the tip clanging noisily against the floor. everything he wore clung to his skin, causing him to visibly tremble from the cold he was so clearly pained to be in. yet, there he was. diaval didn't know enough about the lad to make a logical judgement call, but he figured from what roya had said he was a trustworthy man. there was no way to be sure quite yet, so he knew to remain cautious with his choices for the time being. he would protect his master till his very last breath, and would make every tiresome effort there ever was to ensure no harm could potentially come to lark. occasionally that meant treating others coldly upon first introduction, but it was worth it if it meant the dark prince was cared for.
        ________roya readdressed his wound, giving it another adjustment while diaval uneasily watched. she then returned to roux's side, who was currently sitting on the ground in a ball of distressed jitters. "that came out of absolutely nowhere," roux spoke up, giving his head a defiant shake to alleviate what little water he could, "it's ridiculous, this downpour. when i left my house it was clear skies. ah, well." he shrugged his shoulders, before turning his head and offering a cheerful smile to roya as she busied herself with wiping the raindrops from his chiseled facial features. "it was worth it, i would say. the distance between us couldn't fend me off forever, no matter how displeased my mum will be. i had to see you." he accepted the rag graciously as roya abandoned his side, leaving him to fruitlessly attempt to dry off the remainder of his body. he hardly bothered, instead just opting to resting the already dampened rag around his throat. it dangled there pointlessly, dripping more puddles onto the already drenched floor. "i'm so sorry if i surprised you, as that wasn't my intention. i just couldn't get myself to sleep before i convinced myself to make the journey here. the storm made it a bit more difficult, but i guess i managed."
        ________diaval noted how bravely roux spoke, recalling how roya earlier had explained to his crow form their enduring situation. two companions, forced to never see one another as the boy's parents held steadfastly to the idea that good and evil couldn't even converse under peaceful influence. but, the disagreeable aspect of his family certainly hadn't stopped the determined peasant-boy. diaval was a servant to royalty, which he doubted roux would be able to comprehend as a villager. villagers, whether they be good or evil, were primarily poverty-stricken citizens with lifestyles that weren't as luxurious as those who inhabited the palaces. roux was likely the sort who didn't know when his family could afford their next meal, so would take initiative and go hunting for them instead. it wasn't an easy existence, and from what diaval had observed in his time with lark, he could easily feel sympathy for the boy's troublesome livelihood.
        ________the raven emerged from the shadows for a moment, removing one of the two blankets roya had given him so that he could place it on roux. the village boy peered upwards, still sitting on the ground, a bit taken aback by the sudden warmth radiating around his body. "oh! thank you very much, um...?" he trailed off, clearly leaving room for him to fill in the blank. he was a bit hesitant to do so, but he cleared his throat anyways, remembering to divert his attention to the floor rather than roux's sea eyes. "diaval, sir. at your service." roux rose to his feet now, a tad shorter than diaval, scanning the crow who was clad in black. despite the fact that diaval refused to look at roux's face, the villager couldn't prevent himself from staring at the pure black irises he possessed. it was an oddity, that was for certain. one couldn't possibly mistake them for an odd shade of thicker brown, as they were most definitely circles of pure obsidian. roux even reached up, curiously plucking a stray feather from the head-full of ebony locks diaval had. the bird man found himself leaning into the touch subconsciously, as what would likely be his most guilty pleasure was head rubs. whenever lark would run his fingers down through his feathers and down his spine, it was a most soothing act. even in his human form, he reveled in happiness when another would stroke his hair like they were petting him. luckily though, roux didn't seem to notice as he turned the feather about in his hand, before shaking his head to quickly clear his straying thoughts. a smile played on his lips as he looked to roya now, flicking the raven feather away as he turned to face the girl. "what were you two up to before i interrupted? hopefully nothing too serious? i hate to be an unwanted guest. i don't wish to linger and become a bother if now isn't the best time."
        ________"your timing is well, sir. don't worry. we weren't discussing anything of importance," diaval replied to roux's question, having settled upon sitting alongside roya on her now rather empty "bed" of sorts. "roya was actually not getting up to anything... too busy being glum about a newcomer here. she refuses to leave the attic." his obsidian gaze flicked over towards the girl at his side, a bit hesitant but unafraid. he didn't suppose she'd slap him if he were to look at her freely in this form, unlike something maleficent was prone to. he was hoping to make a point to her, even offering a subtle wink in her direction to indicate her secrets were still safe with him. roya had openly discussed her slight crush on roux when diaval had been a raven, as she hadn't predicted a man to become him. he had been a wounded animal who couldn't truly understand her, and now he was a legitimate human being. yet, even with a mouth that could now speak real words, he wouldn't dare tell her precious thoughts to any soul she didn't want it being heard by. she had nothing to worry about.
        ________"oh, is that so?" roux asked from where he stood, smirking lightly at roya. "who could it be that's gotten your knickers in such a twist?"
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HELLO
C R Y B A B Y !!

hmm

1x1 search ;; always eager for a group roleplay.
he/him ;; adult ;; infp/infj ;; libra ;; queer
hey there, i'm daz.
i'm sort of a cs vet, working on my own novels now.
writing constantly alongside my girlfriend + our four
cats. identifiable as a colored hair enthusiast, a
professional lefty, and an exhausted writer on
constant autopilot.

my pm box is open for site-related questions &
friendship whenever needed.


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Re: One On One- daz and Mac457

Postby vixen; » Sun Jul 10, 2016 5:24 pm

juniper

silence... that's what surrounded them. complete and utter silence. but with the silence came peace... complete and utter peace. it was breathtaking; how they seemed to fit perfectly. like puzzle pieces. there was barely space between them, only inches that turned to centimeters as the two continued to dance. june hadn't held her breath, she had no reason to fear rejection from him, that could be his fear. but june gave him no reason to fear that, she was happy to dance even with the prince of evil. especially with the prince of evil. it was simple with him, with nameless. he didn't trust her, she trusted anyone who didn't give her a reason not to, he was the heir to evil, her to good. polar opposites. all that they had in common was that one; they were dancing, two; they were heirs to very large kingdoms, and three; they were both young adults. any other similarities ended there.

june looked at him, her green eyes watching his. her eyes moved, taking in his facial features. pale was one word to describe him, another was intriguing, he was interesting to look out. his chocolate colored eyes seemed to stand out, demanding that you focus on them. june's own grass green gaze seemed to linger a second too long before she managed to look away. her gaze fell on his lips, which weren't as thin as she had thought. his hair was a mess, his horns were like trees and june's eyes flickered up, unable to see the top. she felt a faint blush, the warmth of the blush spreading to her neck. she bit her lip, then let herself smile. the silence was a drastic change. switch nameless out with a standard prince and the conversation would never end, it would continue long after the dance was over. sometimes minutes after, other times hours upon hours of pointless, self centered conversation. june felt the silence as though it was standing right behind her. it wasn't easy to brush off, after a lifetime of dances filled with conversation, a dance accompanied with silence did fit nameless best.

what was nameless? he was a fairy, an heir, and a young man. that's all june knew about him, expect for a few times when nameless decided to open up. the description that fit nameless best was a book with the pages melted shut, never meant to be open. for her, it was more of an open book, read millions of times by millions of different people. june was barely a novel, while nameless was more of three books with their pages melted shut.

june eyes wonder back to lark, having fell on their hands. the silence was like a blanket, the world seemed to contain only them. the room itself had a small echo, their footsteps rang softly in the ballroom. with no band playing, the only music within the room would have to bee inside their heads. june had been humming before lark came into the room. an old song her mother had sung as a lullaby, june caught herself randomly singing it throughout the day, sweeping or cooking, june was always singing that one song. never a different one. a single note never change, always the same. maybe it was boring, singing the same song on repeat countless times. june moved with lark, her body following his with almost too much ease. there should had been an uncomfortable feeling around them, a feeling mixed with hate, sadness and a little bit of surprise topping it off.

"sir" june spoke, taking care to keep the silence intact. it still filled the air around them, june's voice so soft that it mixed into the silence. june had nothing left to call him, she hated calling him sir, but nameless didn't fit, not in a ballroom. nameless. it was strange, even for a nickname. and if this man were to leave, without having told june his name, she doubted she would remember nameless, more of the man without a name. chances were that's what was going to happen. this man would leave, go back to his kingdom, one day inherit the throne, forget having ever met june, and carry on with his life. june shoved the thought away, she would toy with that game of 'what if' later. she felt herself move closer to him, and june wanted to back away, wanted to continue on with the easy route, chose mindlessly hating anything remotely evil over having to decide if someone was good or evil. true, the labels did help, made things clearer to people. sometimes it confused people, it wasn't hard to get confused once you begin to dive deeper into the thought that not every one is what they seemed. it gave june a headache just thinking about it.

the princess looked back at her partner, her eyes fell onto his again. this time june gave up on trying to pull them away. she looked into his eyes, almost shamelessly. her smile grew smaller, she felt herself blush again. june's eyes flickered away from his, she stared at his shoulder, trying not to look at him. she put some effort into it, whenever her thoughts or gaze drifted back to his eyes, she stared harder at his shoulder. june's eyes moved to his, she let them rest on his. he was different, strangley different and she was beginning to like that.



roya

she smiled at the two, watching as roux plucked a feather out of diaval's hair. roya flinched, unsure if it would hurt the man or not. when diaval didn't show any pain, roya sighed, relieved. in the man's crow form, roya hadn't spent much time with the animal, choosing to stay inside the attic. sadly this meant that roya didn't interact with the others, including sweet diaval. roya listened as roux asked her about what she was doing before his entrance through the window. she was ready to answer, seconds away from an answer when diaval spoke first, roya smiled at the crow's reply. watching him as he came to sit beside her, roya leaned against diaval. she looked back at roux, glancing at the crow. her smoke colored eyes catching his. she smiled again at him. roux being around caused roya to smile more freely, she hated that. it made her vulnerable, that man, roux, could easily hurt roya without even meaning to do so. simple actions would crush the girl, roya hated that. she was suppose to be strong, unbreakable. she was the opposite now, completely at the mercy of roux and his decisions.

roya rolled her eyes as diaval spoke about why roya was hiding in the attic, she frowned at him, letting it melt away. she smiled at how the man spoke, having the attitude of a scolding friend. it was beyond perfect, roya chuckled at diaval's tone. she ran a hand through her hair, causing more knots than she was getting out.

"okay. okay. first i'm not glum. i'm not pouting either. i swear, jazz is up to something. you can tell, one look at him, there's something in his eyes. something not right, something's off about him. i can't put my finger on it. i know that there's something, i just can't tell you what it is. there's no proof, he hasn't done anything. i know. i know it's there. it is. first, his parents die. and who would want to kill peter pan and wendy. peter is. was, he was. immature and very strange but not like jazz. and his mother, wendy, she was caring. i ran into her once, i don't think she knew who i was, but she treated me with kindness. that's all that matters. but anyways, he is up to something. and i know it. but i have no proof. and i'm evil." roya spit the word out. "and perfect little jazz is good. so perfectly good. who would believe jafar's daughter or someone good. to them i'm lower than dirt. a good peasant could say they saw a unicorn prancing through the main road and they'd believe them over anything i'd ever have to say."

roya sighed, a frown appearing. she looked away from both of the men. "and now listen to me. i sound like my father." roya's expression changed, her entire body language changed, roya slumped down as if the thought of her father was a physical burden. "but jazz is wrong, bad, something. and if this makes me sound like my father. i don't care. well, i do. a lot. i can't sound like my father. that's not an option." roya sat back up, no longer leaning on diaval for support. "not an option." she added quietly, loud enough for only diaval to hear. roya moved her hair behind her ears. she puckered her lips, a bad habit she had, one she was unable to break. she picked it up when she was young, around the age of four. her mother was still around, roya has no memory if her mother did this or not. but somewhere roya had gotten the habit. it wasn't from her father, jafar prided himself on a few things, the most notable being his wealth. the other was that jafar did not have bad habits other than taxing the life out of his kingdom. to roya, her father was nothing more than a burden. he was something that stained her name where ever she went, not like lark's mother whose name struck fear into millions of people. no, roya's father was considered the most laughable of all the villains, his name did nothing more than cause his child pain, no one else.

"it's not like i can use my father's name. not like nameless." roya continued to call lark nameless despite diaval's use of the heir's name. "maleficent is something that causes children and adults to have nightmares. jafar is a joke. my father is a joke. people tell stories about him around the dinner table. i went to a village, and town drunks were using my father as a joke. they're right though, that's what's so awful about it. they're right. he's a coward, he's greedy, cheap, rude, and jealous. he had my mother killed. and he locked me away in an attic." roya stood up suddenly, her hand hitting diaval on his face. roya sat back down, biting her lip. she took diaval's head in her hands, treating him like a crow still. "i'm sorry. you poor thing." she ran her hand over his hair, a gentle smile on her face. roya pulled her hands away, looking over at roux.

"he use to be a crow. and he's sweet. crow and human form, very sweet." she muttered, her finger brushing the top of diaval's hair. "thank you roux for coming here. your mother hates me. and you didn't have to come. i hope you know that, and i don't want to pressure you into feeling like you have to come here. i mean, i like that you came. it's nice. but your mother is a well known figure in good and i'm not exactly on her good side." roya looked at the window as the rain began to pound harder on the glass. the girl sighed, she looked back at the door that led out of the attic. she looked around them, wanting to get out of the attic, but not wanting to confront jazz or even speak to the boy. she let out a huff of air, annoyed and conflicted.
hi! i haven't been on this site in years. i'm pretty open to trading away my pets as i doubt that i will be on here again.
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