Horatio Black

“No,” she said, shocked at all of his implications. Her eyes flickered downwards and then immediately shot back up at his face, cheeks burning. She didn’t want to, or need to, give him any more actions that would imply that she was thinking about anything sexual. Because she wasn’t. Another thought popped into her mind. “And I don’t want to. Especially not yours. Is the only thing that you think about sex?”

Horatio's side was leaning against the wall in the tenfoot, probably the only thing keeping him upright at this point. "Nah, got others going on up here some," he answered, scratching his head against the grit of the bricks. "Thinking how many splinters ya've got up your ass from the stick the Queen shoved up ya. Bless her," he mumbled the last one nearly patriotically. "Gonna bend over any to get a clue?"

She stared at him another moment, still not really sure what she wanted to do, or if she wanted to continue this conversation. The look (she hoped) only deepened with disgust as she continued processing his words. “I don’t think I want the sword that you’re talking about,” she said slowly. “If you’re saying what I think you’re saying –” She shivered and closed her eyes. “Nope, no.” 

"Just gave a quiver for nothing, eh? Didn't get a tingle up the thigh or nothing?" His side leaned up fully against the brick wall, arm resting above and outstretched near her. The smoke from his cigarette still fluttering in the air as he kept his eyes on her. "Got a fucking idea in that head of yours just now, didn't ya? Got me all in the niff up in there, bet." Head tilted with his hair splayed against the wall, his free hand went to the front of his pants. "Never even got a bleeding look at one 'fore, yeah?"

She shrugged out of his reach as he tried to hug her, fairly confident that him touching her was not going to end well for either of them, but mostly for her. She gave him a confused look, hoping that she looked at least half as disgusted as she felt. Not because he was necessarily a gross person but because she was just confused by him and the way he was behaving. She wasn’t used to people being so…normal.  “Who the fuck are you?”

Unbothered by the way she wiggled out of his reach, Horatio just slumped in her general direction with his shoulder rubbing to a stop against the bricks. "Getting a right taste for it now, ya are," he said with a crooked grin, proud that he could take credit for the corruption. "Loosened that stick outta your powdered ass," he pointed out with his cigarette. "That's who the fuck am. Gonna knight me any? Even got my own sword ya can grip onto."

“I don’t have rose petals for ears,” Addie said, growing indignant at his words. She was starting to feel like this stranger was treating her with kid gloves, which she might have appreciated if she wasn’t so upset with her life and everything in it. “And my knickers aren’t in a twist.” She made a face as those words came out of her mouth, unsure of how they felt coming out. “And I don’t want a drag from your cigarette because they’re really shitty for you and I think people who smoke are kind of disgusting.”

"Ya got fucking red 'nough for them," he said back with a lazy turn of his head. Grey eyes sparkled at the way she talked back, as if he was witnessing something magical that only came across once in a lifetime. What should have been taken as an insult against him was overshadowed by this event, and the fact that his brain cells were pickled helped his selective hearing. "Look at ya! Gone from not knowing what a lesbo was to shouting 'shit'. Aw, gorg. Love them stories, yeah? Should be on them feel good stories news has." Horatio let his arm fly wide open to embrace her against his side, cigarette between his other fingers. "Got all tingly, not just in the nethers neither."

Half of Addie’s confusion had to do with his thick accent, but most of it had to do with the fact that she just didn’t know how she had gotten into this conversation and why she was potentially sharing so much information with a stranger. “Yes–” she blustered. “I know what it means. All meanings. I just–” she flushed. “It’s just a photo of Scarlett Johansson.”

"JUST?!" he popped off before remembering who she was. "Shit, sorry forgot ya got fucking rose petals for ears. Can't just fucking say something like that. Sure as fuck not gonna do any muff diving soon, are ya?" Alcohol wearing into his system, he let his back hit the brick wall behind him, leaning against it for standing was too much work. "Wanna drag?" he asked, outstretching his cigarette out to her to take. “Get your knickers out of its twist that way.”

There was a lot Addie wasn’t sure about at the moment, but she was starting to become more and more sure that she wasn’t sure why she was still talking to this man. Granted, there was nothing else for her to do but go back, and she didn’t want to do that. Her brows furrowed further at his words, confused at where he was going. She glanced from the phone to him, and then back to the phone again. “I don’t get it.”

"What's the fuck to get?" he asked, honestly confused and shocked by the lack of response. He drew his phone back, gave it a look, and then glanced back. "Could be in a pine box, all dead and what, just have to show this to get me back like Jesus on Easter. But can tell ya right now what'd rise up first." Horatio took another small drag before coming across a sudden thought, nearly choking on the smoke from the need to rush at it. "Know what wet means, yeah?"

Her face flushed a deeper red the more that synonyms for scissoring came tumbling out of his mouth. Maybe she did know more than she thought. “Yeah, well,” she began, trying to figure out how to respond. “We don’t need to go running to her for anything, not really.” Okay, so she didn’t know what she was saying. “And I’m not a lesbian. I don’t think.”

"Don't think?!" he repeated. "Fuck me, teasing the shit out, ya are. Settle this for good in a mo." Pushing his cigarette to his lips to hold, his hands went through his pockets to pull out his phone. The screen was cracked and a piece was missing at the top, but it lit up all the same as he searched. In the next moment, he showed it to her, holding it out and her face with the image of Scarlett Johansson coming fresh out of the ocean. "Get a skeg at this," he mumbled before taking away the smoking obstruction from his mouth. "Pic shouldn't be the only thing wet if you're any kind of lesbo."

Since I answered the mun part here, I’ll just answer Horatio’s parts.

😊 = What makes the mun and muse happiest?

His answer would be something along the lines of 4 tits and he’s not even that picky if one has 3 and the other has a “nipclops” thing going for her, but Horatio can be happy from...

Babysitting SW or really any child (except the nightmare ones). He actually loves them, but he’s obviously not too responsible with them. 

Parma Violets and really anything sweet

All-you-can-eat buffets

Cars

Surprisingly, clothes but he’d never admit to it

Jaeger, but again he’d never admit to bonding with the little shit

😭 = What makes the mun and muse the saddest?

Whenever Horatio thinks about his mum or Carmen, it takes strength to push the thoughts aside. His mother is really the one that makes him the saddest because there’s not much that can be done about her situation that he hasn’t already tried and failed at. 

😡 = What makes the mun and muse the angriest?

Anyone that’s a total fucking prick. He won’t hesitate to beat the living shit out of someone if they’re being an asshole. An absolute no is if he sees someone hurting someone that doesn’t deserve it. If they do deserve it, though, he’ll join in. 

👻 = What is the scariest thing to ever happen to the mun and muse?

Hm. I can’t name the absolute scariest moment, but I can give two instances where he believed it was the scariest. The first is seeing Carmen on the couch and trying to shake her awake but she never answered him. The second deals with being sent off from the Coldstone manor for good, which sounds good, but it’s terrible when you know you’re mum isn’t coming with you and you know how much abuse she was already facing there when you were there to try to stop it.

💙 = What is one thing that can calm down the mun and muse? Is it a person, thing, or place?

Pot. Simple answer. Add some bags of crisps and a marathon of Doctor Who... Horatio is as calm as can be.

💚 = What is one thing that makes the mun and muse jealous?

I think if Jaeger started to hang out with other people without him, he’d be really jealous and probably try to crash into that. NoHomo.jpg

💛 = How would the mun and muse describe their best friends?

“Call him little shit for a fucking reason, like one of them shits ya thinks gonna fill up the whole bowl but all ya squirt out is this drop of piss poor shit that clawed its way outta your hole. Fucking pain in ass.”

❤️ = How does the mun and muse approach romantic relationships? Is either currently in a relationship or do they have a crush? 

Keyword is romantic. At the moment, he has no one that fills that role, but he may be open to it underneath. I secretly feel he has a dating profile, but he probably is in the process of getting banned.

🥂 = How is either the mun’s or muse’s alcohol tolerance? What are their favorite alcoholic drinks?

Horatio is pretty much an alcoholic, to be quite honest. I think if he didn’t drink for a week, he’d get sick. He can finish off a bottle of whiskey in one sitting easy. He doesn’t fucking fool around with wine because that’s for pansies, which I’m sure he reminds Viggo of quite well. He has a weakness for the sweet cocktails Jaeger creates that have either whipped cream or candy involved in them, but for the most part he sticks with whiskey or vodka.

💫 = How does either mun or muse handle being sick? Do they need someone to take care of them, or are they capable of taking care of themselves just fine?

He’s the worst patient you can have. He is incredibly grouchy and like a grown baby. He’ll take all the meds, though, and get knocked out pretty quickly.

🐯 = What animals would best be associated with the mun and muse?

I use Chrome and each character has their own profile linked to their Tumblr account, and for Horatio’s, I use the horse head but the ass would be more appropriate. 

💮 = What are the mun’s and muse’s opinions of each other?

“Bitch is alright, short of making life shit lot of times.”

I can’t help but love Horatio. He’s politically incorrect and offensive, but I love him. He says everything he’s thinking, and I know he means well underneath all that crudeness.

🍀 = Who is an important person in both the mun’s and muse’s life?

Even though she was feeling bad about the entire situation that she’d found herself in, she couldn’t help but crack a smile at the thought of her getting knocked up and going on the run. That, at least, seemed too far off in the distance, never like it was going to happen. The smile fell off her face and her brows furrowed at his words. “Another meaning to scissoring?” she repeated, wondering if he meant what she thought he meant. She didn’t know much, to be completely honest, but she knew some things. Maybe. Her cheeks flushed slightly at the thought. “I don’t–I don’t–”

"Yeah, scissoring," he repeated. That alone should have been satisfactory, but in Horatio's manner, there were more terms ready and on hand. "Thigh clapping. Lettuce rubbers. Muff wrestling..." the smoked from his cigarette swirled in the air as he talked before finally his eyes strained a little as his memory blew out. "Know there's more to that..." he muttered distantly before snapping back to her. "But yeah, fucking scissoring. Not just 'bout sodding crafts and shit no more, yeah? Didn't strike me none as a lesbo, but got all types now, eh? Fucking Hell, don't go all red 'bout it. Won't be running to the sodding queen over it, bless her."

She stared at him a moment longer, trying to figure out what exactly he was saying. His accent was taking a bit of getting used to. “Oh,” she said when she had finally parsed through his words, relieved that he didn’t seem openly intent on kidnapping her. “No,” she continued, staring back down at the ground. “I left on my own.” She didn’t know how much she wanted to tell him. “And now I don’t want to go back but I kind of think I have to.”

Horatio was patting at his pockets while she talked, looking for his cigarettes and then the lighter that went with them. He finally managed to get his fingers wrapped around them when she was finished, and by then he was giving her a look. Curiousness doused with a shit ton of incredulity. "Don't want to go back none?" he repeated her words around a cigarette hanging off the corner of his lips, finding them hard to even fathom as the lighter flicked up a flame. "Got yourself knocked up and on the run? That it?" A stream of smoke flew up into the sky before he was back to figuring out the reason behind her appearance. "Shit," he began, brows rising, "didn't find 'nother meaning to scissoring and come looking for a whorehouse round here, did ya? Wouldn't want to touch any of the slags here less ya wanna side of crotch rot."

If you could die from fright, Addie was almost positive that she would have when she heard a second voice yelling at the man holding a gun at her. She flinched, and internally retreated into herself, arms crossing over her body as if it was going to hold her together. She wasn’t so sure that she could keep herself put together. But the yelling did cause the other man to retreat, so she had that to be thankful for. 

She stared at the person who had come to her rescue, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape that anyone could even string together words the way that he had. Her mouth shut abruptly at his words–shit. Being recognized wasn’t a part of her plan, but after thinking about it again, she realized it was probably inevitable. 

“Uh–” she stared at him. “No?” It was more of a question than a statement. “Kidnapping me isn’t going to get you anywhere,” she added, trying to add confidence to her voice. “I’m pretty much worthless these days, so–”

Thankfully, Horatio's tolerance for alcohol was at the highest point a human being could get. He smelled of whiskey and cigarettes, but wasn't quite at the level of being drunk per say, just at the verge of being tipsy. His hand ran through his brown strands while still looking at her in disbelief. The moment she said "no," Horatio's head cocked to the side with grey eyes narrowing at her, looking her up and down. "The bloody damn pope, I am, if you're not!" he concluded. "Christ, would only kidnap ya to get the hell outta this shithole. The fuck are ya doing here? Queen get her knickers in a bunch and set ya off to purgatory or some shit?"