LetterA — Roleplayer Guild

Ixion Farbrigth

Ase didn't seem to want pizza, but then again, she also said she was in the mood for anything. So, Ixion pulled out the box from the fridge, opening it over a table in the dorm kitchen to reveal a solid four slices. Cheese pizza- a classic that was sure to please anyone. A bit on the bland end, but pizza nonetheless. Two for him and one for Ase, he decided after grabbing a plate and stacking three slices on it, wondering if he should microwave the last slice as well, and how large the tiny girl's appetite was. He decided against it, instead deciding to shove the plate into a microwave to heat.

Ixion's partner was still in the background talking about how it was unnecessary to open the girls' dorm, and that she was planning on resting. "Don't..." she started, Ixion turning to her in curiousity, "Break anything."
To which Ixion responded to with a smile hinted of weariness, as well as a chipper, "No promises!"

As Ase made her way to the dorm's common room, Ixion took to shutting the pizza box with the lone slice, leaving it on the table and not bothering to return it to the fridge. Hey, what was the point? The chances of someone seeing it was much higher if it was left out, as opposed to being in the fridge amongst other luxurious choices. The microwave beeped for his attention, and just as he grabbed the plate to head for his white haired partner, someone stopped him by the counter.

"Hey forehead," whispered someone from behind, a clawed hand pressed close to his neck. From the slight pressure of fabric against his back, Ixion assumed there was probably a clawed had there, too. But more importantly! Forehead? What a rude nickname! "Put down the fucking pizza and tell me sincerely you're not one of those putrid bastards from hell."

Turning his head slowly so as not to be scratched, the older blue haired male positioned his head so that his profile was visible to whoever was holding him hostage. From what Ixion could see, it was another kid left behind that was out for patrol, and as his memory recollected past memories involving the boy's face and oddly familiar hair, he deduced that the boy was another that'd been caught in the tussle a week back. The one with the retractable claws- well, that part was obvious given they were right at his throat.

The older of the two threw on the darkest face he could muster, his eyes glaring intensely towards Claw Boy, a low growl managing to snake out of his sneering lips. "What the fuck's it to you?" he asked in a tone lower than his actual voice, pausing before his face reverted to it's idiot image. Ixion's frown was replaced with a smile, his eyes no longer glaring and actually quite cheerful looking, glittering with a twinkle of mischievousness. "Kidding, kidding," he assured with a laugh- only idiots could be in a situation like this, act stupid, and still laugh about it- "My name's Ixion! I live here, but the doors were locked! I am not a demon, I think, hehe. But don't you think you were a bit rude?"

"See," he continued, resting the plate of pizza down on the counter, a late response to the blonde's earlier demand, "My partner is halfa, and you make it sound like being a demon's a bad thing. And another thing, it's very rude to attack your elders, you know. Especially an unarmed one. Rude and unfair." Ixion smiled cheerfully again, hints of weariness having disappeared in his dumb face as he added, "Now, if you please, can you let me go? I have a partner to pamper!"

Gabriel "Angel" Avlon

"Could you really?" Angel asked, brightening at the idea of being healed. He was never one for pain- he tolerated it, sure, but in choosing between pain killers and sweating fevers out, Gabriel was the type to choose the former over the latter. "That'd be awesome, thanks!" It seemed as though, out of battle, he was much more appreciative of his partner's presence. And he was, truthfully. After all, she was now less dead weight and more helpful little first aid kit on wheels.

Realizing the trouble she was having over the uneven grounds, Angel let go of his shirt and moved along behind her, giving a warning, "Watch your hands," before he started to push as well. As he continued over to more even ground, he wondered why the chair was much heavier- he had pushed Sel'Ar on it while she was unconcious as well, but it seemed as though being awake also added weight onto a person. Stopping just by the dorm, said partner started to mumble.

"Whassat?" asked Angel, leaning a head over, to hear the last fair remains of her name properly pronounced. "Dammit, speak up, woman! Sell-Ar? Selar?" The name felt unfamiliar on his tongue, but he continued different variations of it nonetheless. As he repeated her name he made his way once more in front of her, pulling his shirt down- he'd rather stretch his shirt than get pangs of pain taking it off- and bending towards, "Sel'Ar."

"Okay, I think I got it," he said, continuing with, "Sel'Ar. You can start healing now. And you better be better at healing than you are with everything else I swear to God." His weariness was evident in the lack of fucks given at using the Lord's name in vain.

LetterA Member

Status

Recent Statuses

Bio

Most Recent Posts