12-13-2018, 01:00 AM
[align=center][div style="max-width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"]Atticus's idea of efficiency was an unfortunately familiar one. Although Orpheus didn't regularly drive himself into the dirt (not regularly, alright?) but he'd grown up with a man who did nothing but. He punished himself as he saved the world, and whenever the tiger had managed to fall asleep, it was usually broken up by nightmares. So perhaps their situations weren't entirely comparable. It was just enough to make the smallest connection — if he knew of the Seraph's habits, he might even have worried. But just like Kit has no strong opinions on him, he has nothing on him. Nothing to hate or to love. So far, it's a quiet, distant respect and maybe some silent understanding that he could one day feel more of it. He feels comfortable with almost everyone here, which is new to him. And good. He wouldn't have been able to sleep like this otherwise.
As it is, Orpheus is still a light sleeper. The faint noise of the bag and the sensation of something quietly draping over him both have the lion squirming where he sleeps, one paw extending and then relaxing. Although he seems to fight for consciousness, the closest he gets is a little wrinkle of his nose and scrunch of his eyes that fades away quickly — and rather hilariously. He stays on his back offering only stuttering half-inhales that gradually smooth out again, at least until Ambroise's paw hits his shoulder.
And see, maybe he can understand hating Christmas. For a reason like that, yeah, Orpheus would have been gentle. He loves Christmas because it reminds him of his dad. The gifts and hugs and convincing this giant, socially awkward (inept, really) man to wear a Santa hat and help him pass out presents. He loves Valentine's Day because it reminds him of the card he would leave, and the way the tiger had fallen apart when he heard exactly what he needed. That his kid loved him and wanted him to be here too, wanted him to stay. They both healed from their wounds in different ways, however incompatible they would seem, and he could accept that. What he couldn't really accept was waking him up like this.
The lion lets out a quiet yelp at the physical contact, his body immediately contorting until one small paw finds a solid surface (which... happens to be Ambroise, unfortunately) that he can push of off and roll away from. He regains his feet quickly, blinking through the glasses until he realizes that his skewed sight isn't actually due to exhaustion. "What'd you call me?" The words are a little slurred as he ducks his chin to his chest and finds some strange, prickly resistance. Tinsel? Tinsel. He's a Christmas tree. For some reason that makes him laugh, bright and ringing and cheerful even though he's still a little out of it. He had just relaxed into a deeper sleep before this guy. Asshole. He wouldn't linger there. "Was this you?" He accuses Atticus through a laugh, tipping the glasses off of his face to get a better look. "I hope you know I'm keeping these." They were terrible, which was kinda perfect.
As it is, Orpheus is still a light sleeper. The faint noise of the bag and the sensation of something quietly draping over him both have the lion squirming where he sleeps, one paw extending and then relaxing. Although he seems to fight for consciousness, the closest he gets is a little wrinkle of his nose and scrunch of his eyes that fades away quickly — and rather hilariously. He stays on his back offering only stuttering half-inhales that gradually smooth out again, at least until Ambroise's paw hits his shoulder.
And see, maybe he can understand hating Christmas. For a reason like that, yeah, Orpheus would have been gentle. He loves Christmas because it reminds him of his dad. The gifts and hugs and convincing this giant, socially awkward (inept, really) man to wear a Santa hat and help him pass out presents. He loves Valentine's Day because it reminds him of the card he would leave, and the way the tiger had fallen apart when he heard exactly what he needed. That his kid loved him and wanted him to be here too, wanted him to stay. They both healed from their wounds in different ways, however incompatible they would seem, and he could accept that. What he couldn't really accept was waking him up like this.
The lion lets out a quiet yelp at the physical contact, his body immediately contorting until one small paw finds a solid surface (which... happens to be Ambroise, unfortunately) that he can push of off and roll away from. He regains his feet quickly, blinking through the glasses until he realizes that his skewed sight isn't actually due to exhaustion. "What'd you call me?" The words are a little slurred as he ducks his chin to his chest and finds some strange, prickly resistance. Tinsel? Tinsel. He's a Christmas tree. For some reason that makes him laugh, bright and ringing and cheerful even though he's still a little out of it. He had just relaxed into a deeper sleep before this guy. Asshole. He wouldn't linger there. "Was this you?" He accuses Atticus through a laugh, tipping the glasses off of his face to get a better look. "I hope you know I'm keeping these." They were terrible, which was kinda perfect.
[align=center][img width=300]https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/intermediary/f/c43c2c6d-b9e5-4952-a3d7-4db10fd90fe6/dcwzlwz-724bba54-d4ca-433b-ad25-a4a33df0b505.png/v1/fill/w_1175,h_680,strp/ded_lion_by_bluiestar_dcwzlwz-pre.png[/img]
I HAVE TROUBLES EVERY DAY BUT IT TURNS OUT FINE
[div style="font-size:8pt;line-height:1.2;font-family:arial;color:black;margin-top:-5px;margin-bottom:5px;"]｢ ❝ it turns out fine, and i fight to keep them all away ❞ | [color=black]biography – [color=black]tags ｣