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Mareuer - Catch all
Who: Mikasa and open, with some closed prompts
When: Throughout the month
Where: The city
What: Working, trying to get into a routine
Warnings: Will be added as needed
Wine time is fine
[Mikasa wasn't a big drinker. Quite the opposite in fact. She'd only drank alcohol a few times and had little interest in it. But work was work. And carrying crates of fruits and filled wine casks was something she knew she could do.
The other part of the job... Well she could do that. Mess didn't bother her that much. But it was strange and she winced as her foot sank into the berry's, squelching them. ]
I'm never drinking wine...
[She didn't care if she'd cleaned her feet. It was dubbed foot juice. Not helped by the tainted wine she'd seen delivered to the higher ups. Mikasa was perfectly fine with the mindless stomping around on the berries to be her only contact with the stuff.
After a good few hours she calls it a day and started clearing up. Scowling and scrubbing at her hands. The strange splotch of colour wasn't shifting. Even after the second dollop of soap, and the skin around it was turning red. She huffs, looking over her shoulder at the person she'd heard. ]
Did he say we had to do anything to clean this?
[Despite this. She does turn up again. Wearing the same stained shirt and skirt. They'd been washed, but... No joy. So she wasn't staining anything else. ]
Green(and every other colour) - fingers
a. Supplies
[Now the initial money issue had been resolved and she had a somewhat stable income it was time to deal with that garden they'd inherited. But to do that she needed things. She had a vague idea of the tools she'd need. But some of the rusted ones that had been abandoned had been new.
So a trip to the shopping district was in order. Though she did need a better weapon for the next expedition, but from what she'd worked out that wouldn't be for a while. Now seemed like the best time to start this.
The first store she hits up was a relatively small. Mostly flowers. Mikasa's drab olive coat blending with the unopened blooms. Then she jumps suddenly, backing the hell away and into someone else in the cramped store.
That plant just turned into a bird? Many birds, all suddenly flying around.]
b. Sorting that garden
[Eventually though, she's got some gear. And she's been assured that all of the seeds she'd picked up were edible... And that the plants themselves wouldn't eat anyone...
But yes, now she had that it was time to get to work. Though for the time being she had to work out exactly what was in the garden, wading through the tall grass-
Where'd she just go? One second she was there, the next she wasn't. Anyone with good enough hearing would hear the quiet cursing about rabbits from the grass. ]
Full moon, preparations at dusk - limited to 2
[There was an odd amount of purpose to her movements during this full moon. Instead of the directionless wandering of the last, she was taking quick strides down the street. It was almost exactly the same as when she'd had a destination in mind.
The only things not normal about it were the two small... Twigs? Just poking out of her hair. Occasionally they'd move, but not much. And the two large pots she was carrying. The artificial smell of paint drifting from them.
Not that she stops. She's on a mission with her paint. ]
Wildcard
[If you want to plan anything just pm or contact me on![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
kittylyoko. I'm going to be adding a few closed things and more prompts later for things from my CR planning.]
When: Throughout the month
Where: The city
What: Working, trying to get into a routine
Warnings: Will be added as needed
Wine time is fine
[Mikasa wasn't a big drinker. Quite the opposite in fact. She'd only drank alcohol a few times and had little interest in it. But work was work. And carrying crates of fruits and filled wine casks was something she knew she could do.
The other part of the job... Well she could do that. Mess didn't bother her that much. But it was strange and she winced as her foot sank into the berry's, squelching them. ]
I'm never drinking wine...
[She didn't care if she'd cleaned her feet. It was dubbed foot juice. Not helped by the tainted wine she'd seen delivered to the higher ups. Mikasa was perfectly fine with the mindless stomping around on the berries to be her only contact with the stuff.
After a good few hours she calls it a day and started clearing up. Scowling and scrubbing at her hands. The strange splotch of colour wasn't shifting. Even after the second dollop of soap, and the skin around it was turning red. She huffs, looking over her shoulder at the person she'd heard. ]
Did he say we had to do anything to clean this?
[Despite this. She does turn up again. Wearing the same stained shirt and skirt. They'd been washed, but... No joy. So she wasn't staining anything else. ]
Green(and every other colour) - fingers
a. Supplies
[Now the initial money issue had been resolved and she had a somewhat stable income it was time to deal with that garden they'd inherited. But to do that she needed things. She had a vague idea of the tools she'd need. But some of the rusted ones that had been abandoned had been new.
So a trip to the shopping district was in order. Though she did need a better weapon for the next expedition, but from what she'd worked out that wouldn't be for a while. Now seemed like the best time to start this.
The first store she hits up was a relatively small. Mostly flowers. Mikasa's drab olive coat blending with the unopened blooms. Then she jumps suddenly, backing the hell away and into someone else in the cramped store.
That plant just turned into a bird? Many birds, all suddenly flying around.]
b. Sorting that garden
[Eventually though, she's got some gear. And she's been assured that all of the seeds she'd picked up were edible... And that the plants themselves wouldn't eat anyone...
But yes, now she had that it was time to get to work. Though for the time being she had to work out exactly what was in the garden, wading through the tall grass-
Where'd she just go? One second she was there, the next she wasn't. Anyone with good enough hearing would hear the quiet cursing about rabbits from the grass. ]
Full moon, preparations at dusk - limited to 2
[There was an odd amount of purpose to her movements during this full moon. Instead of the directionless wandering of the last, she was taking quick strides down the street. It was almost exactly the same as when she'd had a destination in mind.
The only things not normal about it were the two small... Twigs? Just poking out of her hair. Occasionally they'd move, but not much. And the two large pots she was carrying. The artificial smell of paint drifting from them.
Not that she stops. She's on a mission with her paint. ]
Wildcard
[If you want to plan anything just pm or contact me on
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Not for now at least...That was a tomorrow problem. One she'd be annoyed about, and would also blame on the dragon.
Mikasa didn't have much in the way of magic. Not yet. But there was a distinct crackle in the air and the sparks in the depths of her eyes. For a second she braces her self on the dragons back. Then the crackling pops as she leaps off the front of his shoulder. Almost wooping with glee as she skips around in a half circle to look at her work. Holding her chin up slightly. Like she was looking down on him despite being so much smaller.
This was a stupid place to stand, right in front of something of fire, with claws and teeth. Even if she was capable of maneuvering properly. Which she wasn't. But the fae was audacious enough to try it.
But was the puca so recklessly free?]
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And, knowing the subject of his fascination... The reason they're here in the first place. No, he's tolerating her. Odd. Interesting. Why?
Mikasa's thrill is also contagious, and Mettaton's always audacious enough to do most anything. As she leaps off his shoulder, Mettaton gives her a few moments to herself as he chooses to slather the remainder of his gold along his neck, the flecked paint catching moonlight brilliantly as it cascades down Eren's back. The Puca is almost hypnotized by it, enchanted all that's glitter and gold as he is.
But not for much longer, as he leaps from scales to join Mikasa in her Stupid Place of Choice: right in front of the Dragon. This is called immersion therapy now, and Mettaton's not scared, thank you, Sisters.
This isn't a stupid place to stand anymore, it's the place to stand. Mettaton grins at Eren, posturing at Mikasa's side with a sort of easy amusement ā at him, or at the two of them in tandem, it's hard to say. He speaks regarding Mikasa, but his eyes are on Eren's body, ears leaning forward in interest.]
Oooh, is there anything you can't do, darling...? Surely you haven't had your fill yet. Think of all he's done to irritate you...
[They have covered Eren quite thoroughly in paint... But wouldn't Mikasa like to do more? He wants to see things unfold! And the Puca, the darker-leaning cousin of the Fae, can only encourage bad behavior.]
(1/2)
ah, itās too late for him now. everything shuts down, and the full moon feeds him fuel to be completely reckless and indulge. sheās almost smiling, she looks proud. sheās looking at him as if she were ten times larger than she was, and the fire in erenās chest only burns like wildness. one would expect a dragon to be furious, to be too proud to tolerate such childās play, but here he was, large pupils on her, eating away until thereās no blue iris at all. forgetting, that heās stretching his neck slowly and inching closer to her (but not close enough for a tonguing, good for them). if thereās anything he could think of, itās that: i deserve worseā and you could do better.
careful with what you wish for, right? she was still a beginners fae. the silence of his breathing accompanies a growing rumble that mikasa has heard before when she climbed himā the sound an oversized cat would make if it were pleased. docile is much more apparent now, when earlier he had simply been passive. if he had the functioning lips to do so, the dragon would, indeed, be smiling right back, unable to realize that his wings were lowering completely to the grass, turning up like arms, and encircling around her, palm up, talons safely curled away and tail relaxed behind him (the tip is just a lot more pointy). he stations his wings in one place, a boundary he wouldnāt cross, of sortsā it almost resembles the gentleness one would have when trying to get close to a fluttering insect. careful. very careful.
there was no slavery in her eyes, no constraints that bound her to a proper way to act with her so called master. if her blood was so strong, she wouldnāt have done any of this to him, as stupid as it was. the truth is even more apparent, even though eren had already known it so: she was no slave. just like the creature the mirrors have translated to her, she was free.
he wished he could tell her that. ]
(2/2)
it all came back like whiplash. he does nothing, yet. heās stone-still again, exchanging a long, long gaze with mettaton, a sharp one, like thousands of daggers being held to him, at knifepoint.
heās in the process of locking him, but for now only waits for mikasaās decision in the same silence heād always been. ]
1/2
That dumb cheer at seeing the dragon that had been a pain in the ass for so long covered in such ridiculous colours. That slight thing. It wasn't enough to quench her irritation. But it was enough to make her tipsy.
A careless, intoxicating sense of freedom.
One that blinded her to the danger. Even once the puca joins her, she's just bounding back over. Nearly into him with enthusiasm. Pupils large and almost smiling, opening her mouth to spe-]</small
2/2
[Then there's a chill. That odd feeling she got. Like when she saw that ring on Annie's finger. Or the few seconds where she'd know to duck from the bomb. The almost joy drops from her face, smoothing out into something more blink as she's swerving. Her focus returning to the lizard.]
No...[Quiet. Only meant for the puca.] If he won't give answers, then we can't treat him so lightly, but I don't have anything else.
[But he'd been frustratingly okay with everything they'd done. The climbing, the pouring. That even if how silly he looked before had made her laugh before...It wasn't enough to override his lack of annoyance. Not enough to stop her's from building or her lips from curling back to show teeth. Antenna moving back behind her head where it was safe.]
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Mettaton doesn't shrink under Eren's glare at all. As Mikasa stumbles backwards, Mettaton's arm reflexively presses against her back in perfect time for her to deliver her hiss of a response meant just for him... but something's changed about the robot. A carnal shift, letting go of all pretense for a rawer performance. He drops his hand as she rights herself and loses her joyous spark, but that spark remains in Mettaton's system to ignite into unrelenting appetite.
Mettaton stares deeply into Eren's eyes, blue with tight, draconic slits. His own golden eye is alight, impish, registering the sharp threat of danger behind Eren's intent and finding it nothing short of thrilling. Delightful. Desirable. He takes a step forward, black-furred ears leaning forward in his eagerness, falling deeply prey to being locked into the Dragon's stare by virtue of his unblinking watch. It'll be terribly easy to lock him.
Mikasa's fine, Mettaton thinks. He's not, and that's better yet. As he takes greater, more covetous stock of Eren, he notices more of the crystal, the blue, the scales, and rewinds to play back the way he looked at Mikasa...
He does know this dragon. Doesn't he? The darkness and the moon difficult to tell at first. But these crystal talons and tipped horns are radiant, almost as captivating as his sinister glare. Mettaton could best describe himself as smitten with Eren, at least in this dangerous way. There's nothing that could keep him from standing mere steps away from the threat of jaws, teeth, and fire. It's no more dangerous than anything he's done over the past few months. Ah, Mettaton keeps getting himself into situations with higher and higher stakes... The paint only makes him more desirable somehow.
He thinks he gets it now, why Eren's behaving like this. He quirks a brow, and addresses Eren directly this time. As Eren.]
You really do fancy her... Yes! So you'd irritate her to vie for her attentions, like this? Clever. But, why?
[Eren... why you denying yourself and then UN-denying yourself but like with an alternate identity... this is confusing and shady...]
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he has to bring him up and away from tipsy fae hearing, not too high and not too low. the difference, thoughā the difference is the dragonās stare. it is no longer a glance one could simply look away from. no, it has snares. magical in nature, the glare traps the puca into an inescapable exchange, where erenās energy becomes suffocating, ominous and overwhelming. it becomes as black as his insides were, when given reason to be. this was not the boy, or the man who would speak kindly of freedom and offer encouraging words. this was the monster who killed two men to save a little girl he barely knew. this was the man who destroyed a capital to protect his home. this was the man who would trample the earth for the sake of the woman skipping by them. this was the eren most people overlooked.
there is nothing amused from the guttural voice that comes wet from his throat and hisses with harsher emphasis when wording something with an āsā in it. he speaks slow, his snout close and the breath from his nostrils burning like fire itself. it is slow, but at the same time frighteningly compelling. laced with his intent and as constraining as his eyeās magic, it forces the strongest to shrivel and listen. ]
Iāve been staying away from her and you bring her to me. You. Itās been a month since Iāve been anywhere near her. Want to know why? [ his tongue slivers out, dances across the robotās legs, his torso, ] I can smell her blood every time she breathes and it drives me up the fucking wall. Do you know what Fae tastes likeā?
[ fae tastes fizzy. fae tastes sweet and exotic, otherworldly and addictive. every fae smells differently, every fae. and every fae, eren reacts differently, with one similarity to all- deep down, he wants them. he wants all of them. to protect, to serve, to care for, to take, to consumeā it was still so confusing and he didnāt know which would happen when, and when he was too close, it was too late. he was infatuated. he was attracted to them and now that he sees a glimpse of that very taboo, he hates it. heās become the one thing heās lied to mikasa about her being. a slave to instinct. at times like these, it wasnāt asuraās comfort and clarity he heard. ]
Do you know what youāve done now? Do you?
[ his scales give off a dangerous red hue, like fire that express his rage; the cracks and spaced plating down his throat begin to ignite, like live lava cracking through volcanic stone. his breath-sac is full, and the words he breathes have a foul smell of sulphur to it. thereās a rattling sound behind them. a continuous, fast paced sh-sh-sh that comes from the needles at the tip of his tail being shaken like a rattlesnakeās, fluorescent and heated. heās never done this before, unless he was in combat. ]
I donāt have a problem with my priorities, Mettaton. Iāll protect her until the day I drop dead. If you ever endanger Mikasa again the way you have tonight, [ the remainder of his lips pull back, and there are just so many teeth. heās salivating, the puca will realize. whether it was because of the fae high or what he was about to say, thoughā ] I donāt give a shit how aware you are. Iāll eat you where you stand. You wonāt be my first.
If youāre still alive, itās thanks to her. Get out of here and take her with you.
[ he sets the puca back down after a lengthy glare that closes up abruptly from its hypnotic pull, it should leave him with an urgent feelingā a feeling of choice that still stabs like thousands of daggers. make your choice, it urges him, with the same exigency. should he choose to accept erenās presage, the spell-like aura would shatter, and grant him the monstrous will, energy and strength to do what he must. a power-up spell youād expect to find from a witch. if not, the mental daggers stay behind, and rip him apart from the inside, assure him everything that destroys him is true. that he is a slave to the metal containment heās bound to. that he does not live. that he was never born, and that he was nothingness. artificial. fake. plus, a dragon will physically be ready to sick him. ]
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She couldn't fly, and she couldn't climb him from this angle. Not without her gear. But that wouldn't stop her grumpily shoving at what she could reach.
Oi, down here. That's her's. Give it back.
Then the dragon does, plonking the bunbot down. Earning him one last heavy shove, that does little as nearly tackles Mettaton again.]
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ļ¼ Mettaton.
He's absolutely ensnared in that glare of his with no hope of breaking, and he doesn't want to break away anyway. His eye widens a mark at the content of his words, however, and he frowns. Narrows his eyes at the insinuation that he's endangering Mikasa somehow, despite... everything. The fact that she's so strong, the fact that he doesn't believe Eren would hurt her (he has faith in him!), the fact that he didn't know his identity until just moments ago. None of that would seem to matter, to Eren.
So Mettaton doesn't protest the point. Even his sneer dissolves as the Dragon admits that he... eats Fae. Mikasa's a Fae. That's the kind of protection he wants for her, but...
He has some protests. Some he can't voice, given the nature of Eren's desire to control him by insinuation. This is where Mettaton realizes that he's under some kind of hypnotic influence, unable to tell Eren that he can come to grips with these conflicting desires because he surely cares for her, that if he wants to protect her, it doesn't have to be to consume her being. That there must be separate urges going on here!
None of that matters when Eren gives him his "order."
"Get out of here and take her with you." That's all he can focus on anymore. It becomes his world. His prison, the only thing he can fixate on, and he stares off, drone-like.]
... Oh. My.
[If Mettaton knew of Mikasa's possessiveness over his person, he would have been moved, but he sort of stands there, dazed. As soon as he's set upon the ground, Mikasa tackles him and he opens his arms to catch her. He's made his "choice," based on the feeling of the Fae in his arms. He'll take her away, and confront Eren later.
As soon as he makes this decision, a rare, unique feeling strikes him, one blissful and kind of foreign in its intensity. He shoots his attention at Eren with shock like he's been given something he wants more than crystal, the feeling of such strong willpower totally foreign to a monster (not a Monster) such as himself. The will to do whatever it took to "take her with him" is intoxicating. Did Eren do that to him...? (Could he do it again, if he asked?)
His arms tighten around Mikasa so she couldn't escape if she wanted, snaking around her figure possessively. The robot smirks.]
What a shame, turning our company away so soon. And with so many feelings left unaddressed...! I'll be back for you, gorgeous. [He winks at Eren. It's impossible to tell. More to Mikasa, now:] I think we've made our mark, darling! We have better things to be doing, don't we???
[No protests, Mikasa! That will overwhelms him, and he's already on the move. He takes one good hop backwards on toned legs, away from Eren, though he keeps his eyes on him as he clears a significant distance from the Dragon. This is so absurd.]
(1/2)
(2/2)
when the new day comes, he sheds his dragon hide quite literally; the childish efforts were for naught when he could, and had to, peel his flesh off clean. heād still just feel like shit anyway, so, good job guys! you did it. iām proud of you. ]
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But then the dragon flies off again. The as-
Then she's moving? Mettaton??]
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It doesn't matter, because Mettaton has all of this willpower to perform this one task. He takes them back toward Aefenglom's city limits with distance-clearing hops and fleet feet.
It's not long before they're close enough ā that is, far away enough from Eren, where Mettaton realizes he's kind of stealing her away from what she wanted to be doing. And he's probably burning her in the process... No matter what Mikasa did to protest along the way, it almost seemed as though Mettaton couldn't register it. He snaps back to reality. Slows, stops, unhands her, looks at his metal arms, then back to her.]
... Oh. Oh, shit. [DID HE BURN HER??] Are you all right, Mikasa, darling?
[It being a full moon doesn't prevent him from exercising concern, especially after returning jarringly back to the present and snapping out of an odd sort of hypnotic trance.]
GASPS HE SWORE!
He just flew off- [It trails off into a hiss. Bleh...
No pain, only anger.]
backstage mtt ;) 1/1
[He did, and Mettaton ran away with her, at Eren's behest. Her mood's plummeted, and Mettaton's left to process this... mess. The revelation that "KrĆ¼eger" is Eren, who wished to be kept away from Mikasa, and Mikasa, him. They have matching looks of sorrow, sometimes. Why? What "price" were they paying? Eren said she wouldn't want to see him, but also that she'd want to, contradictory. That Eren didn't reciprocate her feelings. Her feelings...
Could she be in love? Or, heartbroken? Could Mettaton talk about love with Mikasa, if she's in love with Eren and he won't acknowledge the feelings?
Nonetheless, he won't say it's Eren they encountered. Not just yet. Mikasa is viewed as his own treasure under the moon, the way she's colored in pinks and purples and golds, but Eren still matters to him. If he can give the Dragon a chance to contemplate his own thoughts and feelings, that space is at least earned, even if this strange "bullying" tries Mettaton's patience under the light of the full moon.]
2/2
Say! Let's talk about something else!! [He grins, wicked.] Something truly exciting happened in my life recently!! Have... you ever been in love, darling?
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What?
[No, seriously what. That sure is a topic change. Not enough to make her annoyance drift, but enough to redirect it. Even if it was mostly out of confusion. What did that have to do with anything? Mettaton?]
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It's a lot of robot. He remains stooped down far enough to be touched.]
I have. [Been in love. But that's not what he's focused on.] And there's so much delight... But I sense that there's such crushing despair from it, in turn! I was just wondering. If you thought... That Dragon was in love?
[...There is not a lot of despair on his end, no way. Anyway, talking about the Dragon's feelings is a way to talk about it, at least. Mettaton hums thoughtfully; could Mikasa tell that this Dragon had ties to her aside from being a menace? He wonders.]
But if you've never been in love... Maybe you wouldn't know how to spot it.
[He is actively being a hypocrite, since he was good at seeing love before he'd ever been in it.]
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But for once she shrugs, tries to knock him back with the roll of her shoulder. A scoff hacking it's way out of her throat. A bitter sound.
She had been. Was. Or she'd thought that, but was that actually her or the bond that made her think that? She had no way of knowing. Even if Mettaton was a friend, she couldn't talk about that. The thing that caused her own aversion to getting a bond.]
I doubt it. We spoke once before he started this.
[The irritation was being redirected. She didn't want to think too hard on the subject.]
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She will get used to him being affectionate yet. ...Just maybe with some restraint, considering she has a weakness to iron. He understands this.]
But when he saw you... His pupils blew wide. He was arrested by you, darling. Why else would a prideful Dragon yield to you so?? Aside from your admittedly dazzling command. I think... it's worth considering! That he has a crush on you. Chemistry doesn't need words.
[He'd love to say that they've probably spoken more than once before this, but he won't. Mettaton isn't the greatest at keeping secrets. At least he's not being interrogated on the matter. For now, he'll treat Pufficus like a stranger.
And also nudge her shoulder again with his cheek. Is it the full moon, or is it Mettaton...?]
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You're wrong. He's an ass, has been since we met, he didn't want to help those kids, and he got in my way.
[She was seeing that as him being annoying, not him keeping her around. Because there was no way Mettaton was right with this. And she was going to keep brushing it off.]
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Haha. Why do you think that being a pain... isn't also part of having a crush?? It's not all being sweet and trying to earn your favor! Even mischievous and disagreeable people can have crushes, darling.
[he literally banished his reluctant crush to the kissing booth for giggles, that's something an ass would do. or a puca. or just mettaton.]
Being annoying is just as much of a red flag for love as being obsessive or doting! But perhaps... you wouldn't know. If you've never been in love, yourself...
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It was safer to feed his idea of the lizard having a crush on her.
That was definitely a topic change!]...What do you suggest I do then?
[She was still turned from him, but she did lean slightly. Pressing her shoulder against him gently. That was as close as he was getting to pets.]
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But he'll accept talking about... Eren's obvious crush. Yes. ā ]
Well. I'm afraid I can't give you a straight answer. [He doesn't want to lead her astray. He really wants to tell her that this Dragon is just Eren...! That she should figure out how she feels about him, and act accordingly. But, alas.] Maybe... given the chance. Try to learn more about him. Or, give him the silent treatment! See if he apologizes!
But my personal approach would be to bother him right back. I favor such aggression... Ahaha.
[He couldn't help himself.
Her tribute is appreciated... he supposes. The shoulder nudge is something. He takes a little offense toward it, but he'll get over it later, when he remembers that he's made of metal. Even his fur is flecked with it, for as soft as it is.]
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