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Post by fallenraen on Mar 16, 2017 16:55:22 GMT -6
An Arranged Lunch Featuring Othello and Roxanne Setting: Markets in Inaria, Aquore Time period: Around chapter II (not specified)
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Post by fallenraen on Mar 16, 2017 16:59:09 GMT -6
[ Roxanne ]
She’d been given a time and place. Her mother, a mare she had believed to have never given her as much as attention as she did that morning trying to make her daughter look perfect since she was but a foal, had adorned her with jewelry and a shawl of her own. Upon leaving the house she’d been called to visit, the one she had once called home? Roxanne had left the jewelry on a table while leaving out the door. The soft blue shawl she had kept if only to protect herself from the sun’s rays, it sitting above her head and wrapping loosely over her shoulders to hang on the other side.
She’d made her way down the streets, where there should have been appreciation for her mother’s rare attention and glow from being wanted was confusion. Her mother had promised her a surprise. What could possibly be there in the city that was a ‘surprise’ her parents couldn’t have either delivered to her own house or brought to theirs? She sighed, carefully adjusting the fabric draped over herself and moving out of the way of those passing by. She couldn’t stand it when her mother was vague, keeping secrets behind her smiles. She had almost not wanted to come, too stubborn to without proper information.
Though, there she was, approaching the building she’d been given the address of on a piece of paper she looked up from before folding. A place to dine in? A small frown tugged down the corners of her mouth, her gaze then searching out the reason for this all. It’d been a couple days ago the announcement of her betrothal had slipped past her mother’s lips while they’d been having breakfast. Was she meeting them there? She’d been upset, furious almost to not have been asked first. At that moment? Standing there while other horses trotted past minding their own business? Anxiety crept in. She was unsure of what to make of what web her mother was weaving.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, she tried to tell herself. Many horses were arranged to marry. It wasn’t a big deal. Another sigh escaped, Rox relaxing. No, she wouldn’t let this get to her. She would meet whoever it was her mother had seen fit to pair her with to make her parents happy. They were only looking out for her, after all.
Word count: 400 words | Post count: #1
Tagging: gaybies
OOC: I hope this is okay for a first post! I apologize if it's a little rambly |
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Post by Gaybies on Mar 28, 2017 20:25:23 GMT -6
O T H E L L O
Talori Guardian
... ...
A time and a place, those were the only instructions he had been given in the written message from his mother. Since his father’s death, Othello had grown quite attentive of his aging mother as he worried for her now that she was alone. So, when the message had come, delivered by one of her mother’s tiny messenger birds, he had, as any good, dutiful son would, complied and arrived on the specified date, in the specified location. The heavily tattooed behemoth stood quietly near the entrance of the small café, of sorts, a stark contrast against the pleasant scene.
His expression was what he considered neutral, but to everyone else it appeared as though he were scowling at the world. As he loomed near the doorway, he preoccupied himself with thoughts of his mother and why she would’ve summoned him like she had. While it wasn’t unusual for her to send a bird to get his attention, it was unusual for her not to be waiting at the time she’d appointed. She was always so punctual and yet, she wasn’t anywhere to be found.
Moments later another bird arrived with a similar note from his mother.
“Hello, Othello,
I regret to inform you that I will not be joining you for lunch today, as we had planned. Someone else will be joining you, someone quite important, so make sure that you are on your best behavior and that you treat them like the gentleman I know you are. Good luck, son.
Love, Mom”
Othello couldn’t help the heavy sigh that heaved from his lungs in response to his mother’s trickery. Briefly, the two of them had discussed the idea of finding him a bride, of arranging a marriage, since he seemed to be in no hurry to do so himself. Still, he had blown off most of this talk as just the fancies of an older mare, but... as he stood there; he wondered exactly how far she’d gone with this notion.
He supposed, as he stood absent mindedly scowling at the passerby’s, that an arranged marriage might not be so bad. It would take a lot of the work off his shoulders, make it easy, he would cross his hooves and hope that the two of them could get along in life and that would be that. That wasn’t so bad... He was drawn out of his thoughts by the approach of an unknown figure, one that seemed to stand out amongst the hustle and bustle of the everyday Talori citizens. Maybe it was the fluttering of her shawl in the soft breeze, maybe it was the soft sigh that slipped free of her lips, whatever it was, it drew him to her and made his breath catch in his throat.
He didn’t know who she was, but he found her beautiful...
... ... Word Count:474 Post 1 |
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Post by fallenraen on Mar 28, 2017 22:47:05 GMT -6
[ Roxanne ]
Her gaze, while searching for the cause of her mother rushing around earlier that morning trying to make her the image of perfection before she left out the door to the place she was supposed to go at the time she was supposed to arrive, skipped over a seemingly brooding figure near the doorway of the cafe. Was her mother sure this was where she was supposed to be? Her ears flicked back, uncertainty nagging at her. The paper she’d folded was unfolded, the forest green light of her telekinesis holding it out before herself as she checked over the information her mother had written down.
Were they looking? A hesitant peek up from the parchment, when she felt someone’s gaze on her, was taken to the darker horse she’d noticed standing there. Was something the matter? Was there anything on her face? She was tempted to shy away, hide her face with the small piece of paper that wouldn’t do any good, but that wouldn’t only make a fool of herself.
What if they were waiting for someone too?
The thought hadn’t occurred to her until then, though she blinked at it and her heart slipped before falling. No. Her mother couldn’t have, could she?
He seemed tall, definitely taller than she was, and where his coat was black in color there were also blue, glittering scales on top of it. No, not scales. Tattoos. Had her mother set her up with a punk?
She was staring, half behind her piece of paper, before she folded it and cleared her throat. How awkward. She felt heat rise in her face, her cheeks burning as she looked away before glancing back up at them from under her eyelashes. What did she say? What did she do? “Um… I don’t - I don’t suppose you’re waiting for anyone, are you?” Smooth. Roxanne tripped over her words, wondering if she was wrong. She was hoping she was wrong, making an embarrassment of herself. What would her mother say?
Word count: 335 | Post #2 |
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Post by Gaybies on Apr 29, 2017 19:09:41 GMT -6
O T H E L L O
Talori Guardian
......
Oh he had indeed been watching her. The little flutter of the piece of parchment that she seemed to hide behind, the glow of her telekinesis around the tiny shield as those sweet eyes poured over the contents of the paper in search of information. It almost brought a smile to his face, almost. It was cute, the nervousness, the uncertainty, whatever it was. He wasn’t for sure that she was who he was supposed to meet, but she had certainly drawn his attention regardless.
The great blue beastie cocked an eyebrow at the look of absolute horror that graced her face for a split second, he wasn’t so very unfamiliar with such expressions when it came to him, his extensively tattooed figure seemed to have that sort of effect on horses. He noticed the staring, for sure he did, and stared back with a devilish sort of grin plastered across his equally tattooed face.
His ears would flick forward and back, the fin on his head laying back flat as, after moments of awkward staring between the two, she spoke. Her voice seemed to match her quiet well and, he figured, if she were indeed who he was intended to marry, he could live with it. It seemed a shallow thought to have, to judge the voice of his future partner, but in arrangements such as these he couldn’t help it.
“I am. I’ve been told I’m to be meeting my future wife today.” He replied, his voice a thick baritone that seemed to fit him quite well. “I don’t suppose you’re also here to meet someone?”
Othello did well at making his voice sound cool and level, he had already come to the conclusion that he found her incredibly attractive and couldn’t quite get over his luck at having been set up with such a gem, but... you know... gushing over her would do no good, not cool, Otto, not cool. Smooth af. Still, as he pushed away from the doorway of the café to close the distance between himself and the smaller mare, he cleared his throat and lightly jostled the bow that was slug across his shoulder, a nervous habit? Yeah, kinda. Whenever he was uncertain about something he had the tendency to shift the position of his bow.
“Judging by the piece of parchment you were holding, it seems like you’re on a mission of some sort...?”
... ... Word Count:402 Post 2 |
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Post by fallenraen on Apr 29, 2017 20:24:28 GMT -6
[ Roxanne ]
No.
Her mother had set her up with a punk - one that appeared as if he was too full of himself at the devilish grin he sent to her. What had her mother been thinking? When the stallion in front of herself told her he was meeting his future wife, her no doubt unless everyone was sending their sons and daughters out on the same day to meet their future partners, her heart had tumbled to the floor in shock. What did she do? What did she say?
Stop, she found herself chastising, it’s impolite to assume - and it certainly is impolite to stare. What would mother do if she knew you were being so rude? No doubt yell at her for the rest of her life practically if she blew this up.
She took in a quiet breath, calming herself down. Relax. Maybe… maybe he wasn’t bad. Perhaps he wasn’t some rebellious spirit, the thought of which brought an uncomfortable reminder of the rioters she pushed as far from her mind as possible. That was not a calming thought. “I am here to meet someone as well,” she told him, watching him as she flicked her ears that had angled themselves backwards towards him, “someone who is to-be my husband one day - according to my mother, anyways.”
It was so odd to say the words aloud, to have a face now to give to them. To be fair, underneath the intentional surprise, Roxanne had to admit he was handsome. Everyone had their outward beauty, but what lied underneath? What was he like beneath the tattoos, under his coat, behind those blue eyes? Rox cared little for outward appearances aside from complimenting others, genuine in her remarks, though it was their personality that she was drawn most to. She connected with others that way, understanding that was how she fell for them.
Honestly, for her, it had always been easier to get along with other mares. What would he say to her past, to those she had dated that weren’t stallions past her experimenting years kept in secret? Again: not calming thoughts.
She blinked from them when he stepped forward, the distance between them closed, and she couldn’t help but feel a little dwarfed by him as he shifted the bow she noticed. What was he? A tree? What could have been a tease never fell from her mouth, his question reminding her of the note she held to her chest that she then laughed nervously about and put away. “Oh - that. Yes. Right, of course. No, it wasn’t mission. Not… exactly. I mean unless, that is, you consider finding this… cafe at this time a mission.”
Wasn’t it, then? She shook her head, looking away before bringing her gaze back up to him. One of her ears flicked to the side, unsure of herself as she glanced at the cafe she had mentioned that he’d stepped away from the doorway of to join her. This was awkward. “Should we… go inside?” Eat or talk or something? What did their parents expect them to do? They were adults, yet they were being treated almost like children. Dolls shoved together. She prayed this would somehow work.
Word count: 535 | Post count: #3 |
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Post by Gaybies on Jun 5, 2017 22:25:47 GMT -6
O T H E L L O
Talori Guardian
......
He noticed the second of panic as it seemed to flash through her eyes, that concern that perhaps he really was who she’d been sent to see. He couldn’t blame her, not really, as his gaze shifted back to the extensive layers of colorful tattoos that were laid heavily into his skin. He had been young and somewhat stupid when he’d received them, getting them as a way of flaunting his hippocampus form as the tattoos mirrored his scales when he swam. The quick glance shifted back to her and he tried his best to put on a gentleman’s smile, though the implanted fangs, another silly thing he’d done, glinted in the daylight. He really wasn’t doing himself any favors in trying to look less intimidating.
As she revealed the nature of her mission to the small café, he knew. He knew very well that this pale, little mare was the future wife he’d been sent to meet by his mother. A part of him was relieved, she was beautiful on the outside, at least, and he hoped so much that she was just as beautiful on the inside.
“I suppose we should get to know each other then. If you’ve been sent to meet your future husband and I’ve been sent to meet my future wife... well logic dictates that we’re actually here to see each other.” The stallion deduced with a gentle nod of his head, the fin flexing and lying flat in an unconscious movement he had little control over. He cleared his throat and gestured towards a quiet spot outside the little café where they could enjoy the breeze while dining, “We can sit here, unless you would rather head inside, I don’t mind either way.”
... ... Word Count:290 Post 3 |
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Post by fallenraen on Jun 6, 2017 14:59:12 GMT -6
[ Roxanne ]
She was being rude.
Heat flooded beneath her cheeks again when the man in front of herself looked at his own tattoos, her gaze flickering away in shame. She shouldn’t be so judgmental. Clearly his tattoos mirrored scales. All he had done was, surely, connect with the form that Cascade had so graciously gifted him as was evident by the finned crest upon his head. The implanted fangs, when she dared to steal another glance up at him and caught his smile, was one thing she could not figure out. Why fangs? Did they make him look tough?
Roxanne, to be fair, wasn’t afraid of him. She’d merely been concerned as to who the person was, as to who he was on the inside, that her mother had set her up with. A punk, she supposed, wouldn’t have looked so relieved when she’d told him her reason for being there. Perhaps he’d been afraid too, afraid that his mother had set him up with someone terrible. Of course she wasn’t the best woman out there, often times she didn’t even feel like a woman and questioned who she was, but it was nothing to get into while she gave him her attention when he came to the conclusion that they were both there to meet each other. The hint of a smile curled at the corner of her mouth.
“Unless everyone has sent their sons and daughters out on the same day to meet at the same cafe,” she joked. It was all she could offer: some humor to lighten the awkwardness in the air. Her half-smile, when he said they could sit there or go inside if she would rather, grew into a polite one as she shook her head. “Out here is fine,” she replied, shifting from one hoof to the other and breaking her gaze away to look at the cafe for a moment until it returned to him. “Should we go order anything then…?” His name. She didn’t even know his name. Her mind pulled a blank, and she blinked for a stumbling heartbeat, before an embarrassed laugh slipped past her lips.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t believe I - My mother didn’t include your name in my note.” Why would she? They were adults. They were capable of introducing themselves. One of her ears twitched at the thought, yet she didn’t linger on her slip-up as she dipped her head in a proper greeting that she should have started with from the very beginning of the conversation as opposed to staring. “I’m Roxanne.”
Word count: 427 | Post count: #4 |
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Post by Gaybies on Aug 19, 2017 19:32:21 GMT -6
O T H E L L O
Talori Guardian
......
It was funny the way one little joke could change the whole atmosphere so completely. Othello immediately seemed to relax, the tension in his shoulders melting away. If she could joke about what really was a fairly awkward situation, an arranged marriage, a surprise meeting... well, there was hope for them yet. While Othello never really considered himself as having a great sense of humor, he could appreciate her attempt at lightening the mood.
“You know... I bet that’s exactly what happened and your prince charming is going to be so disappointed when he sees you with me.” He replied in that same lighthearted tone, his smile never once fading. When she agreed to their dining situation, that outside would work just fine, he was pleased. It was silly, really, but though he had said he didn’t mind either way, he really did prefer the fresh air outside. Politely, he would guide her towards that quiet spot he had in mind. It was near the corner of the café, tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the main door and the street on which the building sat. From there, you could keep watch on the horses as they came and went without fear of someone coming up unexpectedly. It was a good vantage point, really, defensible. While things were safe and relatively peaceful in the city, he had spent too much time with rogues to let his back be exposed.
Othello situated himself against the wall of the building, so that he could keep track of the other horses as they came and went, and turned towards her as she spoke. He noticed the stumbled heartbeat, the pause, and the subsequent laugh of embarrassment. By Cascade, she was cute. Her laugh was like music to his ears. He smiled, effectively stifling his own laugh at her adorable embarrassment, and dipped his head in return.
“It is my pleasure, Roxanne... I’m Othello.” He offered with that same fanged smile. He lifted his head and turned to look as one of the café’s employees came through, the small horse beaming with a polite smile that faded some as he drew close to the pair and caught sight of Othello’s tattoos. “I suppose we should order something... Please, order whatever you would like.” He wasn’t particularly hungry, he rarely was, but he wasn’t about to let her eat alone if she was hungry. Pending her decision, he would order something to drink and something light to eat. It wouldn’t do to stuff himself and be miserably the rest of their date... and it wouldn’t really look that good either, he supposed.
... ... Word Count:439 Post 4 |
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Post by fallenraen on Aug 22, 2017 20:26:04 GMT -6
Roxanne Her prince charming. She couldn’t it, a giggle slipping past at the phrase and his return of her own joke that maybe everyone had sent their sons and daughters out on the same day for arranged lunches to meet their betrothed. Wouldn’t that be a mess? “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I for one am not disappointed.” Not with the sense of humor he seemed to somewhat possess, no. He was trying, that much she could see, and she was grateful for his attempts. It certainly made it easier to breathe, relax around him, and she hoped that whatever this was that their mothers had signed them up for… Well, she prayed that it would work.
Not just because she would hate to disappoint her family, bring them shame because of who she was and how she could sometimes be… who she sometimes got involved with, but because she also saw him. He appeared to be a fairly kind gentleman, even guiding her to an area where they could sit with one another in peace, one she knew she’d hate to break the heart of if it ever came to that. She was uncertain what the future held, no doubt they both were, yet if her husband to be was as sweet as he was, she supposed she could forgive her mother for setting up such a date and marriage for her. How terrible could it be if they both attempted to make it work?
She sat down across from him, her smile reflecting his own that crossed his face despite her embarrassing trip up heartbeats ago. Roxanne. She liked the way he said her name, and she liked his own even more. “Othello,” she repeated, a little more caution to his voice as if it were a question to see if she had pronounced his name correctly. She wanted to, especially if they would be spending the day together. How much more awkward would it be if she stumbled over his name?
It was a question not to, obviously, ask. Not when an employee had approached them, her ears flicking and pricking as her gaze drifted to them. Did everyone have the same reaction to Othello’s tattoos as she surely had? As the waiter did? She wondered, her ears flicking backwards for a brief second before he spoke up and offered for her to order whatever it was that she’d like. How polite of him. Her worries, her thoughts of if she should apologize for earlier of gawking at his tattoos, were swept aside as another little half-smile graced the corner of her mouth and she dipped her head in thanks. “Thank you, Othello.”
All that she ordered, in the end after a moment’s thought and not even looking to the menu, was a small salad and a glass of water. Keep it light, no? Mostly dried fruit that made up the salad with some lettuce, as a snack during the middle of the day, and something to keep hydrated with to avoid a surely uncomfortable case of dry throat if they talked much over their “lunch”. What could go wrong with such a decision? Her pale gaze stole a glance to Othello, mildly curious as to what he himself would order. What would they do after their small meal also crossed her mind. Would he want to continue talking, whatever it was they decided to discuss, or escort her home? Would he do that at all?
She’d found out, so far, very little of him. She took another moment to collect her thoughts, ears flicking back uncertainly, before she cleared her throat, “So um… May I ask what it is that you do? In our herd?” She nodded mostly to his bow that was obvious, though there was also the fact of the location he’d chosen and how he’d decided to sit with his back to the wall which had not gone unnoticed by her. All very planned, surely. Her mind jumped to the conclusion of being a guardian, someone who did want to keep a watch out, no doubt someone that worked with her very own father, yet she didn’t want to make the assumption out loud and be wrong. “You might be able to guess, given how my mother left out your name in my note, that she doesn’t give away much,” she confessed, looking elsewhere to the side, anywhere but him for too long and seem impolite.
Her mother was a woman of many, too many, surprises and secrets. It creeped under Rox’s skin and irritated her sometimes, how her mother sprung things up on her without giving her any warning or preparation, though she always forgave her mother in the end once she understood that every once in awhile it was for her own good. Was an arranged marriage? She questioned, her thoughts well to herself - unless he could read them. She’d never thought of that, her gaze stealing a glance at him from where she’d looked away. That would be, to put it simply, horrifying from how many embarrassing thoughts had crossed her mind in the time of meeting him. She felt her face warmed. To his credit, if he could mind read, he didn’t seem offended… Perhaps she was in the clear.
Post count: #5 | Word count: 883
OOC: I'm so sorry for so many words oh my goodness I don't really know how there got to be so many ;; It kind of got out of hand with all her thoughts asdhjkf
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