Can I get a hell yeah

Just pure happiness and love. No evil. Just purity and innocence. I dunno what I’m talking about. But I look forward having a day off. LOL

guy: uhh… don’t you mean guns…?

snrk

Miso is not the poster child for impulse control- no one who uses $300 hand cream is. He pokes his poor brother, makes his brother feel how soft his hands are, tries out new lotions on a whim, and decided to be a doctor on impulse (although he loves it).

“Again, Daddy! Again!”

Understanding a character’s flaws is key to making them well-rounded and believable, so send me a number (and a character, if there’s more than one option) and I’ll tell you:

a trait they have too much of  (ex. too much pride = arrogance)

a trait they don’t have enough of (ex. too little pride = insecurity)

a trait they express in the wrong way

a trait they’re ashamed of

a trait they’re not ashamed of (but maybe should be)

a bad habit

something they do that hurts themself

something they do that hurts others

a reason (or excuse) they haven’t improved on any of the above OR

Onzadyn was either asleep, or stubbornly pretending to be asleep because she knew full well that her living pillow couldn’t physically oust her from the couch. Hannya was feeling more than a little squished, but even after her strongest shove, the protoss had barely budged, so she had given up and resigned herself to being crushed. If she was spitefully humming a lullaby to try and annoy Onzadyn into awakening, well, the protoss would just have to call her out on it to get her to stop.

Really, it was good that Dynie was sleeping, if she actually was. It had been crisis after crisis, and even Hannya was feeling the strain. Poor Immardar and Onzadyn would surely be feeling the worst of it, since they were the ones actually in the line of fire when things spontaneously combusted. There was nothing wrong with sleeping off the stress of everything.

“Making a wish to let us go back to our homeland… Let us go back to our home, let us go back to our home, let us go back to our h-” Hannya didn’t know when she’d stopped humming the old lullaby and started singing.

I said she likely had more than I did when I entered your service, Immardar huffed in response. Might I remind you that we both agreed that a single item of clothing was unfit?

Ignoring the mock-offended peacock in the room, Hannya turned to Onzadyn with a smile. “Apparently, the first time I took him out on one of these… expeditions, his armor got stained from all the soot and smoke. He’s been distraught ever since. I think that it can be cleaned off without much effort, but apparently I’m not the expert on protoss armor.”

Immardar put on an admirably snooty affect for a being without a nose. I look better clean, not covered in black smears from head to toe. It’s illegal to mar such beauty, you know.

What she means, Immardar said as he stuck the stylus in Hannya’s hair, Is that she gets disappointed when she can’t indulge her pyromania.

It was Hannya’s turn to huff in offense, as she groped through her hair for the stylus. “It’s not pyromania, it’s just good sense. You shoot someone, anyone copying them thinks they’ll get off painlessly. You set them on fire, anyone copying them takes a good long look at the corpse and thinks real hard about whether it’s worth it.”

As I said; pyromania.

“I could tell Onzadyn that you’re useless in combat.”

I could break that couch in half with one leg.

Neither party had any real harshness or tension in their words. This sort of playful banter was almost certainly common between them. For all the play-acting Hannya had done amongst her fellow terrans, she was much stiller and quieter now. It would make sense for the crime lord to have a hundred masks for a hundred situations; maybe this, too, was a mask, but it surely had to be closer to her true personality than anything before. And, on the opposite end of the spectrum, Immardar was far more mobile and expressive with his body language than he had been while planetside. He was less likely to be completely genuine in this moment, but he seemed to be at ease nonetheless.

“Touche,” Hannya sighed, conceding the point. “Don’t worry, Onzadyn, there’s a reason people on Old Earth used peacocks as garden sentries. He’s loud and flashy, but he will kill perfectly fine. He just complains about the blood afterwards.”

It is inconsiderate of people to die messily. Some of us do care about our appearances.

I said she likely had more than I did when I entered your service, Immardar huffed in response. Might I remind you that we both agreed that a single item of clothing was unfit?

Ignoring the mock-offended peacock in the room, Hannya turned to Onzadyn with a smile. “Apparently, the first time I took him out on one of these… expeditions, his armor got stained from all the soot and smoke. He’s been distraught ever since. I think that it can be cleaned off without much effort, but apparently I’m not the expert on protoss armor.”

Immardar put on an admirably snooty affect for a being without a nose. I look better clean, not covered in black smears from head to toe. It’s illegal to mar such beauty, you know.

With the directions given, Onzadyn stretched out her legs and shuffled off the couch. A hot bath would be welcome after an eventful day. Time to recharge, and let her muscles relax. She had neared the edge of the room before she hastily turned, looking around before catching his eyes. Thanks, Immardar. For listening. And with that, she ducked around the corner.

Hannya herself was busy with accounts, carefully setting up the stipend for Onzadyn, as well as other minutia involved with the hiring process. Gone was the fancy outfit, heavy makeup, and dramatic flair she had clothed herself in during seeking and buying what she wanted. Her current apparel was much shabbier, much more worn, and far comfier; instead of a knowing smirk or an amiable smile, she was busy chewing on a stylus as she managed money. Immardar leaned over to look at her work, crossing his arms over the top of her much smaller chair.

I do not think she will need to borrow one of the tailors for anything, so you may not wish to take that into account.

“No?” Hannya hummed around the stylus. “So you’re just a peacock, then?”

Immardar gave her an expression of humorous acknowledgement, and didn’t dispute her assessment. I also didn’t have much in the way of wardrobe prior to my employment. I suspect that Onzadyn has the advantage of me, there. I didn’t ask; that might have been rude.

She nodded sagely, and continued to make edits. “Duly noted. Anything else worthy of my attention, or did you spend your time gossiping about me?”

Gossip? Me? Oh, never. I only tell confirmed truths about you.

Her shower didn’t take very long, and was rather pleasant. Some soaps she recognized as concoctions fitting for her skin, which she used happily. Some vague thought crossed her mind that they smelled familiar, but promptly dismissed it. She found towels to wrap herself in, and shuffled into the closet area Immardar had spoke of. 

Really, it wasn’t that Hannya was comfortable with all this math. She was good at what she did, but she worked very hard at it to become that good. But someone had to do it, and it was far easier to be cheated if you let someone else do it for you.

Speaking of cheated…

“Immy, do you think this week has been exciting enough?” Hannya considered the numbers with a frown.

Yes.

“Damn. I’ll try and schedule this “this extra income had better not be coming from something against my rules” talk for next week, then.”

With the directions given, Onzadyn stretched out her legs and shuffled off the couch. A hot bath would be welcome after an eventful day. Time to recharge, and let her muscles relax. She had neared the edge of the room before she hastily turned, looking around before catching his eyes. Thanks, Immardar. For listening. And with that, she ducked around the corner.

Hannya herself was busy with accounts, carefully setting up the stipend for Onzadyn, as well as other minutia involved with the hiring process. Gone was the fancy outfit, heavy makeup, and dramatic flair she had clothed herself in during seeking and buying what she wanted. Her current apparel was much shabbier, much more worn, and far comfier; instead of a knowing smirk or an amiable smile, she was busy chewing on a stylus as she managed money. Immardar leaned over to look at her work, crossing his arms over the top of her much smaller chair.

I do not think she will need to borrow one of the tailors for anything, so you may not wish to take that into account.

“No?” Hannya hummed around the stylus. “So you’re just a peacock, then?”

Immardar gave her an expression of humorous acknowledgement, and didn’t dispute her assessment. I also didn’t have much in the way of wardrobe prior to my employment. I suspect that Onzadyn has the advantage of me, there. I didn’t ask; that might have been rude.

She nodded sagely, and continued to make edits. “Duly noted. Anything else worthy of my attention, or did you spend your time gossiping about me?”

Gossip? Me? Oh, never. I only tell confirmed truths about you.

Her shower didn’t take very long, and was rather pleasant. Some soaps she recognized as concoctions fitting for her skin, which she used happily. Some vague thought crossed her mind that they smelled familiar, but promptly dismissed it. She found towels to wrap herself in, and shuffled into the closet area Immardar had spoke of. 

a draw your OTP I guess???

With the directions given, Onzadyn stretched out her legs and shuffled off the couch. A hot bath would be welcome after an eventful day. Time to recharge, and let her muscles relax. She had neared the edge of the room before she hastily turned, looking around before catching his eyes. Thanks, Immardar. For listening. And with that, she ducked around the corner.

Hannya herself was busy with accounts, carefully setting up the stipend for Onzadyn, as well as other minutia involved with the hiring process. Gone was the fancy outfit, heavy makeup, and dramatic flair she had clothed herself in during seeking and buying what she wanted. Her current apparel was much shabbier, much more worn, and far comfier; instead of a knowing smirk or an amiable smile, she was busy chewing on a stylus as she managed money. Immardar leaned over to look at her work, crossing his arms over the top of her much smaller chair.

I do not think she will need to borrow one of the tailors for anything, so you may not wish to take that into account.

“No?” Hannya hummed around the stylus. “So you’re just a peacock, then?”

Immardar gave her an expression of humorous acknowledgement, and didn’t dispute her assessment. I also didn’t have much in the way of wardrobe prior to my employment. I suspect that Onzadyn has the advantage of me, there. I didn’t ask; that might have been rude.

She nodded sagely, and continued to make edits. “Duly noted. Anything else worthy of my attention, or did you spend your time gossiping about me?”

Gossip? Me? Oh, never. I only tell confirmed truths about you.

Her shower didn’t take very long, and was rather pleasant. Some soaps she recognized as concoctions fitting for her skin, which she used happily. Some vague thought crossed her mind that they smelled familiar, but promptly dismissed it. She found towels to wrap herself in, and shuffled into the closet area Immardar had spoke of.