(OTA + CLOSED) if i cannot move heaven

[immortalpoet]

WHO: Vergilius and YOU + closed starters
WHAT: Catchall for TDM prompts, May + June catchall - if you want a closed starter for your character, DM me!
WHERE: All over Neo Tokyo, etc.
WHEN: May
WARNINGS: general Project Moon warnings (opt-out post), will update as needed



>source

Comments

[immortalpoet]

[He lets out a low noise, like a growl - but really, he's tired and peeved and in pain.]

Have you been trying to antagonize me for Ishmael's sake? Or just because I'm her boss? Or is it because you have nothing better to do, huh, and you want a laugh? What's your damn problem?

[frostfist]

[ ....Alright then.

Slowly he straightens, whatever trace of good cheer previously on his face completely erased in favor of an entirely serious expression. ]

If I truly wanted to make an enemy out of you, Mister Vergilius, you'd know. [ This ain't it, chief. ] As it stands, I'm simply conversing with you the way I would most others here, though it seems I've overstepped my bounds. My apologies.

[ He doesn't sound particularly apologetic, but at least he's not being sarcastic about it. ]

But do us both a favor and leave Ishmael out of this. Any perceived faults you find with my behavior are a reflection of myself only.

[immortalpoet]

So you would ask most here whether they'd kiss you when they were drunk, then. How interesting.

[Sorry, he is NOT letting that one go.]

I told her about that one, you know. Care to explain where it came from?

[frostfist]

Why not? It makes for an interesting ice breaker, don't you think?

[ Has he asked anyone else here if they'd kiss him while drunk, no, but could he? Absolutely. ]

Here's another tidbit for you while we're at it: I believe in a fair exchange of goods and information. Unfortunately, you don't seem so keen on opening up to me any time soon so I'm afraid I'll have to decline your request.

[immortalpoet]

[Hie red eyes are flaring on that one. Also reminder he is in a maid dress. I love RP.]

I made the mistake of opening to you about Malkuth when I was drunk, which you have proceeded to wag in my face every time you've seen me with nosy little questions about my relationship with her, so don't give me that "fair exchange" crap.

[frostfist]

[ We love maid dress Verg in this house.

There's a quick sigh, followed by a brief rub of his nose. ]

I suggested you speak to Malkuth regarding your feelings directly instead of fruitlessly complaining. Was I wrong in that regard? [ Don't answer that. Or do. ] Any other questions regarding your relationship have simply been a means of checking in on the status of said relationship, though I concede I could have asked in a better way.

[immortalpoet]

You did. And you weren't...wrong. But...

[A pause, an intake of breath, and he looks more peeved, if its even possible. He was Vulnerable then. He hates Vulnerable.]

I never want to hear her name out of your mouth again. Do I make myself clear? I respect whatever you have with Ishmael, regardless of what I think of it. I'm not asking you or bringing it up when we see one another since its your business. Have the damn decency to do the same with me.

[frostfist]

Shouldn't that be as much Malkuth's decision as it is yours, whether or not I choose to speak her name?

[ Damn, he's already failing this so bad. It's okay though, there's a silver lining to all of this. ]

But out of respect to Malkuth [ still failing this ] I'll do you one better and stay out of your hair entirely. That should be enough to alleviate your concerns, shouldn't it?

[ Here, he will even make his point and beeline for the exit, though he turns right at the door to fire off one last remark. ]

I do hope you feel better soon, for Malkuth's sake. [ One last purposeful failure before he waltzes out of the pharmacy, goodbye!!! ]

[immortalpoet]

[Every time he says her name, its like there's an added weight in the air, a tension adding with the heightened glow of his eyes that makes it lianle to snap.]

[Wriothesley moves, and as he does, Vergilius growls out one last retort, with all the weight of his feverish anger.]

What a fucking coward you are. Run away. Go on.

[But he won't physically stop him from leaving. There he goes.]

[.....He really needs to lay down.]