I'VE BEEN WAITING ; truth or dare

[T. ROUX]

[glow=white,1,400]BUT THEY'VE WRITTEN MY NAME IN THE STARS. I'VE DEALT WITH GREED AND SCARS !｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

Apparently, there had been an influx of joiners around his age and his mom had nudged him lightly suggesting that he play a game with them to possibly forge friendships of some sort. He was hesitant at first but she was patient, Roxanne had offered him a few ideas and well, Trygve truly appreciated the effort his mother was putting up for him. He left the house after hugging his mother goodbye with his dark paws sinking into the sand, he wasn't sure how he would pull any of this off but hopefully, he would make a few friends and not scare them off with his usual stiff attitude. He decides to see if there are any props he could possibly use from the tavern so he made his way over to the building only to receive several looks from the crowd, a few pointing at the cub but he managed to see what they were mouthing to each other; Greed. His snout wrinkled in frustration, Trygve Roux wasn't known to be greedy by any means though he simply went to the tavern keeper deciding to ignore the unwanted attention. It made him uncomfortable. It upset him. His claws scraped against the waxed counter only to ask for some non-alcoholic apple cider, he might as well bring some sort of beverage. Right? Thankfully, he had been given a basket and he was already heading out not wanting to be stopped, he left with a newfound discomfort towards the tavern.

With the handle of the basket within his strong jaws, the draconic jaguar eventually picked out a spot so they could play a few games. He set down the basket only to sigh quietly grabbing one of the bottles eventually placing a claw on the cork and flinched slightly at the pop once it was removed. Trygve would glance around for a moment to make sure no one was watching him, he would take a few swigs from the bottle. Now, that was good. It didn't take long until that bottle was empty but there was still two other bottles, Ry would spin the empty bottle supposing that if the young group decided to be "scandalous" they could definitely play some spin the bottle if his game was too boring. Clearing his throat, the draconic jaguar would call out "Gather 'round for a game of truth or dare," His muscles relaxed as he laid on his side within the warm sand, he could get used to this. [glow=COLOR,1,400] ━ ✧*:･ﾟ[/glow]

[PAOLA]

And if I believe you, Will that make it stop?

Paola is bored; surprising given the sheer amount of teens that have flocked the pirate paradise recently. You'd think chaos would be the first thing to come to mind, but no. Hyperactive teenagers are only one side of the coin—the other, unfortunately, are teenagers who are either too lazy, too shy, too angry, or too angsty to bother talking to other teenagers their age. It's an unquestionable fact, and Paola, for all her energy and false bravado, isn't very confident with the whole introduction thing unless she's quite literally running into people and letting the laughter do the talking. Laughing is easy. Laughing is good. Walking up to people and telling them her name, however? Bane on earth.

So no, Paola hasn't exactly made any friends—she just happened to run one over.

She thinks she's okay with cruising through life, latching onto people who latch back and leaving it at that, but it takes only two hours before she's marching around the territory and groaning boredly at anything that moves. Even the raccoon she'd chased before shakes its head at her, indicating that it's busy and can't be disturbed, and Paola groans and marches away from it too because she really should stop bothering people who have better things to do than entertaining a young, bored teen.

"I swear to god, if I walk another lap around the territory without anything to do, I'm gonna shove my paw in—oh, hey!" The sight of Trygve pulls Paola out of her mental tirade of complaints, her eyes quickly honing in on the empty bottle. Almost immediately, she sits her ass down across from the draconic feline, rummaging through her satchel and pulling out a small pack of popcorn—god knows where she gets them. "Count me in, I am desperate for something to do that isn't walking."

If I told you I need you, Is that what you want?

tags:

GENERAL.
• paola vasquez | paola, pao, papa, paw
• unknown origin | unknown birthplace
• appears to be 10 or 11 moons | unknown parentage
• female | she/her | lesbian
• the typhoon | beta | the blackjack rats

APPEARANCE.
• thick-furred black she-cat with an absurdly long tail
• wears multiple gold earrings on each ear
• carries a small leather satchel filled with trinkets
• physically fit, no injuries, no visible health issues

PERSONALITY.
• non-judgemental, friendly; easy to get along with; relaxed, patient, sincere; can usually be encouraged to accompany people without struggle; usually in a happy mood
• strategic but takes her time; unwilling to make decisions for other people; unbothered by both isolation and company; an anything-goes type of person
• usually undriven and bored; self-criticizing, self-doubting; mischievous and does a lot of things for attention; lonely and desperately craves company; lost

INTERACTIONS.
• physically moderate | mentally difficult
• fights only when necessary or playfully
• hard to truly provoke | unknown powers
• non-violent interactions are always allowed
• attack in bolded #f7a57b text | mention [member=15708]PAOLA[/member]

[Grimm]

[align=center][div style="font-family: arial; font-size: 11px; width: 310px; text-align: justify; line-height:120%"]The night sky to her moon.

Once there had seemed a time such was merely titles bestowed with the jovial air of amusement - and indeed it was, pleasant the absent shape of noche as it formed upon her lips - yet time had made it more. For how she had come to allow her prior experiences to shape the malleable presence of what simply made her as she was, worn upon skin some, a constant him. Or, at the least, he had been for a time.

Gentle the manner wings stirred the still air, from where once they lay rested against back briefly exposing their full span, pleasure arising in the short sigh seeping through closed teeth. Of late she had been somewhat preoccupied, between the re-emergence of Trygve and the slow process of cleaning the abandoned hut she had taken for her own within short supply was time her own. Again were wings drawn comfortably into their resting place, a break from her prior tasks a pleasant notion she may indulge for a time.

The interpretation of her walk arose all the sooner than she may have cared for, prior ideas of visiting the small selection of merchants that at times visited the archipelago postponed for a time. At the least familiar the voice that beckoned others forth, upon her pale visage worn a bright smile, a rare occurrence though readily was it given to Trygve. "It is good to see you finally got out of bed, Mr Sleepyhead." Teasing the lilt to voice, shaky grown her smile as to other did she turn.

Of the various teenagers had Eulia heard, the pleasure of acquaintance had been made with only a select few, however. A stranger this one, though her manner of speech reminded the beta well of a few others. "Hello there, I don't believe we have met. I'm Eulia, this big fools sister. And I believe I heard you were planning on a game." Once more did attention turn to Trygve, quzzical the look that overcame her, the implications of the empty bottle one that missed her entirely.

[michael t.]

LIKE THE MOON SAYS TO THE DARK — Truth or dare was a game that Michael remembered well, although he hadn't played it since he was around half of his current age. It had been a common little distraction that he and Trevor had played while they were moving from camp to camp, constantly ramping up the stakes of the truths, and of the dares. The thief could fondly remember constantly picking truth when his fiance asked him, mainly because he was horrified of whatever vaguely flirtatious or downright dangerous pranks the coyote could come up with. Of course, the truths were usually never any better in the flirtatious department, but at least he didn't risk dying of anything other than embarrassment. However, after his capture by The Lost, subsequent short stint in the Pitt, and then his moving to The Typhoon, he hadn't exactly had a lot of chances to play the simple schoolyard game. He still missed playing with Trevor, but considering his old bets to get the other to cuddle with him were moot nowadays – since he could just ask – it wasn't quite as exciting. Maybe it would be more exciting with some new people. People who didn't know him and his story inside and out. Or, at least, mostly people who didn't. Ry might not have known the full story of Michael's life, but the fugitive was fairly sure he was closer than anyone else in the Typhoon, save for Roxie.

Making his way over to the group that had already gathered, the fugitive was acutely aware of the fact that he was very much the only adult there so far. However, he didn't let that stop him from sitting down, a faint smirk on his face as he spoke, "Hey, Ry. We've been missing you around here... I suppose that I'll play along as well." At the very least, he could act as the chaperone of the group, to make sure that things didn't get too out of hand. If that also had the additional side effect of embarrassing the shit out of Trygve? Well, that was really just a bonus. Maybe it was a little cruel, but Roxie already got her kicks of embarrassing family from embarrassing Michael, and Trygve didn't have a proper dad to shove baby pictures in anyone's faces, so the bobcat needed to fill that role. And maybe it was just a little bit of revenge, for every time that his apprentice had leaped on him when he wasn't expecting it to chew at his ears, or for all the despicable pranks that Ry thought to test on his beloved uncle. — WE WILL NEVER BE APART