#mpxmarcel

cont from here w/ @mpxmarcel ft Chinsun & Marcel 

Slowly letting her fingers glide around the wide brim of the martini glass, chin resting on the back of her other hand, elbow propped against the bar, Chinsun stares off idly as her mind continues to chew over the problems of the day. There was something to be said about being a woman no man could lie to... it made dating very, very difficult. Letting a gentle sigh pass rouged lips, her bare narrow shoulders lift, before settling back again and a little tension leaves her body. Maybe men weren’t any good, if they couldn’t lie. 

As a daughter of the goddess of justice and truth Chinsun usually took a great delight in being able to read people, spot the good from the not so good but as she’d sat across from her date in Noona’s low lit restaurant area, with wine and soft music, she’d found the truths tumbling from her date’s lips a little too truthful. 

“I don’t think I want to date a woman who is paid more then me”, “my ex-girlfriend and I still have sex” or “I really want a woman who reminds me of my mother...” by that point Chinsun had given up, sent him on his way and relocated to the bar.  Now here she was, nursing a martini in a little black dress with no where to go. Sensing movement by her side, she lifts the glass to her lips and takes a sip as she watches a handsome man pay his bill. ‘Date not go well?’ 

“You knew all this time?” She replies jokingly, it probably looked like a car crash from the outside, it wasn’t much different from being inside either. Yet as the man smoothly moves ever closer, her eyebrows lift a little and a cool voice murmurs in her ear, quite surprisingly. Even with her sphere of truth he was salaciously charming and presumptively suggestive, that doesn’t happen all that often. With him moving back, Chinsun continues to glance over him, trying to gain what she could, but this was a very guarded individual. Not to mention perhaps a little drunk. That always did throw off her ability, no one is ever really themselves when drunk, and this man feels as if he is a regular pretender. 

@mpxmarcel continued from here: 

Marcel still sat on the ground as blood trickled down from his nose. His clothes appeared battered. He would wake up tomorrow with big bruises on his face. Hermes would make some comment about it, but as he worked behind the scenes in the kitchen, there was only so much scolding he could do. For now, he was met with his enemies unconscious on the ground.

For a man who got into fights so often, Marcel really needed to get better at handling his side of the matter. Hades had stepped in for him, fending him off a group of men who had came to punish Marcellus for messing with one of their women. One day, he would realize a taken woman was just too much trouble.

Hades offered him his hand, and at Marcel’s hesitance to take it, he made a comment that left Marcel chuckling. “As well as you fought, who am I to know?” Regardless, Marcel grabs the man’s hand and pulls himself up. He takes a moment to dust off the dirt that threatened to disturb his clothes.

“I appreciate your help. What is your name? I will have to treat you to dinner.”

He looks down at the young man with a certain amount of amusement, not super amused, but not angry either - for now. He doesn't usually get into physical fights, the idea of giving people a shot at harming him not exactly his cup of tea, but in this case he made an exception. Not so much because he did feel like punching his way out of this one, but more so because he didn’t want to call upon an army of Hellhounds just yet.

That doesn’t mean he’s glad about it or that he thinks the easiness with which the young boy speaks to him is one he shares. So when he’s asked for his name, he raises a single eyebrow momentarily.

@mpxmarcel

If Felix was going to open an ice cream shop, he was going to do it right. And that meant that he was not going to just buy bulk tubs of standard ice cream flavours. No way. That would be boring. He wanted a menu of unique flavours named after his friends and family- because it would be way more fun and special that way, wouldn’t it? And if his store wasn’t fun and special, then what was the point?

"to be held" meme | accepting

Diana was exhausted as she walked into Marcel's apartment, heavy bag of books hanging off her shoulder. She had spent the entire day pouring over her master's thesis, making tweaks here and additions there until her vision had blurred. It was probably done. Even her supervisor said it was done. But she was scared to death of actually submitting it. It felt like her whole life depended on this one forty page paper.

Marcel seemed to sense her anxiety, since he forgot all about whatever heavenly-smelling thing he had been cooking and came over to hug her. And just when she was about to playfully push him off and send him back to his work, he pulled her onto the couch. Tucked comfortably in his arms, her head resting on his chest, she couldn't bring herself to shoo him away. Her eyes slipped shut and she nuzzled her face into his shirt, her muscles relaxing as her worries slipped away.

@mpxmarcel

The pink-haired girl knew that she probably wasn’t the only one since her dad did spend some time with her as a kid and then he was even more present during her teenage years, which meant something must have happened. The petite girl wasn’t dumb at all but she was just lazy most of the time. However, her job didn’t leave her with a lot of free time to seek out siblings, so she just had to do it while working or running around doing errands. She pulled her pink hair up in her usual braid crown and pinned it up with cat ear hair pins as she headed to her usual setup,  waving a hello to her coworkers and adjusting the box she usually stood on. 

Her perky attitude was something bright and most often her side of the bar was loud and chaotic, with her constantly chatting to the regulars that came by and tease the newcomers. Her gaze landed on a guy sitting at the end, she shuffled over and heaved herself on the counter with a grin. “What can I get for you?” she asked, mixing drinks as she spoke. She realized that she ran out of her wine for her drinks as she mixed. “I can do almost anything! Just say what you want and your wish is my command!” she added, grabbing a bottle of sparkling water and touching it with a grin, turning it to a sparkling bottle of red wine. 

Diana was in the middle of studying when her phone buzzed, making her look up from her books and stretch a bit before picking up her phone. She paled when she read the messages from Marcel, her heart hammering in her chest. She had never met Ares, luckily, but considering the experience she had with just one of his sons... Well, she was concerned, to say the least.

cooking meme prompts: no longer accepting

“Hey! Don’t judge me. I’m hormonal and stressed, and it tastes so good.” Val sniffled into the ice cream sundae in front of her, carefully lifting a hand to wipe her eyes with her long nails. The sweet, chocolatey goodness really hit the spot after the stressful day she’d just had. It felt like the universe was out to get her after several failures in a row while building a new cosplay. She broke the last needle to her sewing machine, got a nasty burn on her thigh from her heat gun, stained her bathtub with fabric dye, and her 3D printer ran out of filament. So, she felt it was justified to be crying into a bowl of ice cream in her kitchen when Marcel came in.

{{ Old meme! Just clearing more stuff out of muse inboxes. You can feel free to use this for a fresh interaction still even though the meme is not in use. }}

☮ stroking/ruffling hair

//

   His hands are quick as they help to shape Marcel’s hair back to the former style it was when he had stepped into Honeypot. Unfortunately, the moment of his entry was also the exact same moment that Dakota was testing the new air conditioning system that he had gotten installed for the approaching summer weather. It blasted his guest with chilled air and dismantled his sophisticated hairstyle within seconds.

   “I’m so sorry ‘bout that,” Dakota says, his Korean accented,voice deep but friendly as he strokes a few bits of hair back into their former glory. “It’s usually pretty slow right now for like ..thirty minutes so I figured it was okay to test the air out. But it’s cramped your style a bit.”