can people please roleplay with my moran
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can people please roleplay with my moran

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[ +caughtinhisweb; ]
❝—watch out, sebby! you'll see that now the point's gonna-- gonna be mine. since last time i've mastered this game. well, almost... but i'm still bit better.❞
Do it.
i f y o u ’ r e b r a v e e n o u g h, s e n d m e ” d o i t. “29. my muse interrupts whatever yours is doing to sit on your muse’s lap
[ entirely tired after another rehearsal, richard finds himself at home with no further experiencing the outside world; his little kingdom awaits, more than ready to greet him, and that’s exactly why he leaves earlier, almost rushing back to where he belongs. the hot bath is in order, spreading a delightful scent of oils across the bathroom, and the storyteller jumps out of the limits the clothes are setting; under the soft, white foam he finds peace after a long day of work. one he craves desperately, sinking into the warmth it offers. one that creates a blissful smile on his flushed face. dear god, if eternity could be spent like this, he would volunteer. ][ but water gets cold, and foam disappears; it’s the moment when he is supposed to finish washing his hair and leave the tub, not to turn into an icicle. it happens with a loud yawn, and soon richie grabs his favourite, mellow towel, drying himself off. a grey bathrobe replaces both clothes and pajamas (just because these got lost in action, and the exhausted actor would have to search for another pair in depths of his wardrobe). after tangling the belt he is ready to leave, silently begging for cereals with milk as a supper. the wish leads to the livingroom first. ] [ sebastian is there. focused on whatever occupies his attention, not expecting the thoughts that suddenly claw at richie’s mind; the smile widens as he sneaks upon the other man and ever so casually takes a seat on the tiger’s lap, squirming in a way reminding of correcting uncomfortable pillows. after the relaxation given by the bath, he is but too lazy to reach the kitchen at once. lingering here sounds like a marvelous option, when the heavy head rests against the familiar shoulder of the sniper. no. not the sniper. sebastian. ] ❝—hmm… evening, sebby.❞[ he mumbles, filling the tired voice with an audible sting of sweetness. ] ❝—i’m, uhm… you said i don’t bother you, and you’re a good— good chair.❞[ the amazing compliment is meant to convince the other that having the storyteller on his knees is exactly what he wants; then again - richie giggles at how it sounds, fiddling with the fluffy belt of his favourite bathrobe, while the stare moves to the tv screen. ]
xcaughtinhisweb
"I should fake my own death, Moran. Don't you think that that would be amusing? People thinking I am dead?"
"Plus, imagine the look of surprise on the faces of others when I return. It would be utterly delightful."