realmofstories | [OPEN] Ritchie like guy and I still eat Thai

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[OPEN] Ritchie like guy and I still eat Thai

Characters: Ophilia Clement | Abe no Seimei and you!
Campaign: Hollow Christmas Carol (Act II)
Format: [ how u rock it like dis ]
Open
Summary: still a background character lol. but here, have some side quests and some fun times at the party

A: Git Out On the Dance Floor U Wallflowers (or not wallflowers)
[ You! Yes, you! Either the one actually enjoying their time or even the grumpy wallflower in the back. There's going to be a blonde women approaching you whether she knows you or not, reaching for both of your hands to take swiftly and gently into her own. She smiles brightly at you as she gives a little bit of a tug against your arms. ] Come, dance with me!

[ Ophilia might not specifically know how the dances of this realm go, but the tempo is easy enough to pick up and she does have a knack for it. Ever since she had heard the start of the song, she has been wishing to move along with the music, to enjoy it-- to enjoy it with someone! Man or woman, young or old-- what's a better way to celebrate than to ask someone to dance?

~~plus everyone knows the dancer + cleric duel-class is superb~~ ]

B: Delivering Presents AKA Let's Bring the Chocolate Fountain OUTSIDE GUYS THIS IS THE BEST IDEA
[ How can she expect to stay indoors when there are a number of those without the comfort, warmth, and food of the party? Ophilia can hardly enjoy herself when she knows there are others who are cold, hungry, and without.... even if they are just blots. Who probably don't even feel the cold or have a need to eat.

So here she is, out in the cold in her gown and cloak this chapter had put her in, distributing presents to those less fortunate. Beneath her fur-rimmed hood, her cheeks are rosy and her breath forms a puff of cloud in the air, but she doesn't seem bothered at all. She hails from a far more frigid realm, after all.

However. She's not exactly wearing boots out here, given that a party calls for nicer footwear. But, again. It doesn't bother her, at least not yet. ]

Perhaps we should bring out the dessert tray for them? It is not as if all of us could indulge in the entirety of all of those chocolates.

C: Obligatory Fight Scene Except it's Ophilia So
----Hey! [ That sure is an elf tugging at the hem of her dress. ] Shoo.

[ She'll just kick it, and when she does it makes makes an odd squeaking sound as if it were a chew toy. Wow look at it go up in the air, boy it sure is flying pretty fast too--

OH NO THAT ELF IS HEADED RIGHT AT YOU, OOPS.

She may or may not have had a bit too much mulled wine... What. Her Essence liked to drink! ]

Closed to Professor Dumbass-Can't-See-How-Pretty-He-Is
Professor. [ She says sternly, tilting his head back to face the midline. She can't ensure that the braid is even if his head is off-center! ] You must stay still.

[ There might be a little more of tug at one of the strands to emphasize her point. ] Otherwise I will have to start all over again!

[ Currently, she has him turned away form the mirror because she wishes for the finished product to be a surprise. And that is something she is not budging on!

Where are they currently, you might ask? In one of the spare bedrooms of the manor, with him sitting with his back to an vanity. Why is she doing his hair? Because she saw him walk in, take off that strange cap that's come with his Essence, and see his hair stand up like absolute nightmare. ]

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[He's always felt a little out of place amidst celebrations and parties. Not really knowing what he should be doing, or how he should do it. So he's hanging out away from the festivities, more content with watching everyone else have fun. The music is loud, people are dancing, drinking and chatting with each other. He recognizes some of them. But while he's looking around at the familiar and unfamiliar faces, one of the familiar ones approaches him and takes him by the hands, dragging him out into the crowd of those dancing.]

B-But I don't know how!

Do not worry! [ She replies, and yep, still pulling him out onto the dance floor. ] This one is easy to learn. [ And by easy, she means it's an easy tempo. The blots aren't the best dancers themselves either, but there is an air of merriment around enough for Ophilia to enjoy herself even among the ghosts of ruined stories.

She's already taking one of his hands in hers, and the other one goes to his shoulder. ] This song isn't to keep you frozen in place like your flute. [ She gives him a little wink. ] It is meant to beckon your feet to move! [ READY SET GO, annnnd spin! ]

[So this is how he dies. If it is not from losing his footing, then Aya will surely have something to say to him if she saw this. But for now, he will just try to focus on not stepping all over Ophilia's feet.]

I don't think I feel my feet being beckoned--

[She takes his hand, places hers on his shoulder, then suddenly he is spun. Or a valiant attempt to do so is made, at least. What actually happens is one of his feet crosses over the other, and looks like it might just be okay for a split second, but the toe of his boot catches on the side of the other and he stumbles, nearly taking Ophilia down with him. Which he, thankfully, manages to avoid, except he stumbles forward instead and ends up clinging tightly to her, before putting some space between them, blushing furiously.]

Ah, s-sorry!

[The only beckoning that is happening are his feet wishing to cease movement.]

[ Ophilia will help him keep his balance as much as she can, supporting him even as he stumbles over his feet. She's tugged a bit with him, but manages to keep her center of gravity. Still, no stumble is ever graceful, but Ophilia will be the last to make fun of him for not knowing how to dance.

So instead she just laughs as he practically collides back into her. And yes the closeness makes her cheek warm a little in turn, but otherwise she remains unphased by his accident. ] No worries, no worries. [ She grins, giving his hand a little tug as she pulls him towards another set of steps. ] You can do this, Capell, just follow my lead.

[ She'll be patient with him as he gets his footing together, and when it seems like he isn't doing as badly, she'll lean in a bit, voice lowering. ] I'll warn you next time before there's a another spin, mm?

[Slowly, slowly... one foot in front of the other-- or in back of the other, or to the side? So many steps. He carefully attempts to follow her lead, trying his best to match her steps. Which leaves him staring down at her feet a lot, focusing on not trampling over her. Or ending up on the floor.

His face remains varying degrees of pink throughout this. Partly due to awkwardness, partly the closeness. Though he's not complaining either way.]

Um, sure, that might help. But I think it's less about the timing, and more something to do with having two left feet.

[He admits sheepishly. Funny how coordination when fighting doesn't seem to help his coordination while attempting to move to any sort of rhythm. But he's grateful that she's being patient with him.]

[ He’ll find that she has nearly an infinite amount of patience, for him, this dance, and for really just about anything else in the world.

What she likes to see is him becoming more comfortable with the dance overall. ] Is this your first time sharing a dance with another?

[ She can already feel a pang of guilt twisting her stomach as she expects the answer to be a solid “no”. But that’s what she gets for simply pulling him out to dance rather than inquiring first! ]

Is it that obvious?

[He responds sheepishly, half-jokingly, because, well, would anyone with any amount of experience be this uncoordinated while dancing? For someone that plays and writes music, he's just a bit embarrassed. But it's not like any of that requires coordination at all. At least not like this.

And speaking of having two left feet, he narrowly misses stepping on hers, stumbling a little as he barely avoids it.]

[ When he stumbles, he’ll find that she’s better able to support him through the mistake, as if she had been prepared. It also helps that as having an Essence who is part fox-spirit, she’s developed a handy knack for being quick on her feet.

That doesn’t help, though, when they come back into each other so closely that their noses are touching.

Blinking and momentarily faltering in her own step, she seems to freeze. And then—

Boop.

She’s going to tap her nose again to him as she laughs. Rather than be further embraced, she’s having fun! ] Are you ready for another spin?

[His eyes go kinda wide when his nose is tapped, and there's no hiding the blush deepening on his face. But it seems like she is having a good time and doesn't appear to be upset with that little fumble that put them in such an awkward position. He chuckles lightly in response and smiles, stammering slightly as he tries to focus back on the dance. ]

I-I think so.

[And he looks down, readying himself so that he can at least manage to avoid stepping all over her feet this time, or falling over. If he can do that much, he'll be satisfied. But even with all the missteps, bit by bit, he's getting a little better.]

Good. [ She replies, a playful sparkle in her eyes. ] And now... [ Her hand upon his shoulder will temporarily slide down his arm and give it a bit of a tug, as if ensure that his hold upon her waist is secure. With that done, her touch returns to where it had been before, although now it's lighter. ] A little practice. One, two, three; one, two three... [ She guides him through the steps. ] And on the third count, you must release me from my waist as I spin outwards. But when I return, your hand goes exactly back to the way it is now. [ I.e. securely.

She grins. ] Ready?: One, two, three--

[ It's going to be a graceful move on her part, at least, with the silk of her skirt flaring out with a colorful twirl. But will Capell be able to keep up when she rejoins him? ]

Edited (OOPS WRONG TAG) 2018-12-07 15:58 (UTC)

[His coordination may be off when dancing, but he is sure to pay close attention to her careful instructions. Inwardly, he counts along with her, repeating the numbers in his head, taking note of the placement of his hand and her position. It all seems pretty straightforward. He readies himself when she begins the last countdown.

One.

Two.

Three-

She spins gracefully, the blur of colours enough to mesmerize him. Thankfully, his reflexes kick in and he manages to securely grab her about the waist just as he had been holding her. Which is a huge relief.

He grins widely.]

That wasn't too bad!

[His timing was actually better than 'not too bad,' but he's never been great at taking credit for any of his accomplishments.]

[ Her hand expertly slips back onto his shoulder as she pulls him into the broad turn about the dance floor. ] "Not too bad"--...try excellent!

[ She'll definitely add on all the compliments where he fails to. ]

You're a very quick learner. [ Which she's suspected of him all along between the flute playing and what she knows of him already. ]

[Well, maybe in some cases he is, but...]

Nah, I just think you're a good teacher. [after everything he's still not used to compliments.] Have you had a lot of practice?

[For a second the tip of his shoe catches the ground and there's a misstep, but he manages to not stumble completely. Not out of the woods yet, it seems.]

[Finn could tell some kind of battle was erupting! And he was eager to take on any enemies that could be trying to disrupt their story.

So he dashes towards the battle and opened his mouth to shout out a battle cry!

-only for his mouth to almost immediately be plugged by an elf flying right into his face. The blonde body stumbles over and then tries to get the tiny being off of him!]

[ SERVES THAT ELF RIGHT--

Oh snap. ] Oh--! Oh, dear. [ YEP, running over to him. ] Goodness, I did not mean for that to happen!

[Finn is practically wrestling with the elf, trying to throw him off.]

It's cool! Sometimes things happen. And sometimes, those things are flying elves- yow! [He winces as the elf bites his arm!]

H-hold on, I got it! [ Gonna try to grab that elf and yank it off of him! ]

You got it! Thanks! [He cheers as she yanks the elf off successfully! Now it'll try to force her to release it, but Finn winds up a planty arm for a punch!]

[Sitting still, as it turns out, is a great deal more difficult when he's not reading or studying. He lets out a soft huff of breath, doing his best to school himself into playing the part of a statue. Ophilia had insisted this was necessary— and he doesn't quite have it in him to dismiss her eagerness.]

My apologies— though if you don't mind my asking, how long will this take?

[It feels like forever. :c]

[ She'll take another pin out of her own hair to use in his... because why not? One, he needs it. Two, her hair won't be as pretty as his, ever. So might as well just make his nicer overall. ] I promise you, I am almost done.

[ Doop doop doop, she's teasing in a lock of his hair with a comb so that the crosspattern will hold even on its own. The idea isn't to make the braid entirely feminine, which makes it complex to execute. ] H'aanit taught me this, you know. But I am afraid that I'm not as quick with my hands. [ No one is, not with her skills, whether it be with braiding hair or with a bow. ]

Perhaps I should channel her expertise by imitating her dialect? Dost thou agreeth? [ She jokes, laughing as she works. ]

[If she were to voice such opinions aloud, he would certainly chide her against disparaging herself so, but as it stands, he gives a little bit of a sigh and resolves himself to be patient. If he can read through the world's oldest and dustiest tomes with wonder and fascination, he can certainly do this.]

Did she? I suppose she would be quite good at this, all things considered.

[She braids her own hair every day, after all.

He laughs softly at Ophilia's imitation, and makes the mistake of starting to shake his head, only for her hold on his hair to cause a tugging sensation that reminds him to stop. Oops.]

You needn't be anyone but yourself, Miss Ophilia.

Funny you should mention that, considering we are also embodying our Essences! [ And then sometimes doubling up as playing an additional character in one of these chapters!

It's bound to get confusing eventually.

She gently, but firmly, corrects the way his head is positioned so that she might continue her work. She's nearing the end of the braid in his hair now... ] Just one more thing, here, and....

[ She removes an additional pin from her own hair, and a neatly tied curl unravels from the side of her updo as a result. But he needs the pin more than she would, and so she'll place it along the back of his head, sweeping loose strands and securing them in place. A neatly knotted ribbon secures the end of the braid, and viola: it is finished. ] There.

Now you may look in the mirror. [ She permits, but there's a hint of eagerness within her voice. She wants to know if he approves!! ]

[He allows himself to be corrected, letting out a brief huff of a sigh as a result of his disappointment in himself for deviating once more. Deepest apologies, Ophilia— but when she turns him towards the mirror properly so that he can have a look at her handiwork, both of his eyebrows shoot upwards.

Really, he's quite impressed.]

Your hands are far more skilled than you let on! I never would have managed this myself.

[Isn't that the truth.]

[ She's quite pleased with her work, even if it comes at the expense of undoing a part of her own hair. (Which she'll be able to fix later to make it look at least presentable.) And as she lets him turn, she hovers over his shoulder and does a few last touch ups as he looks in the mirror. ] It was well worth the wait, wasn't it?

Thank you for being patient with...

With.... [ She tries again, but her words die upon her tongue.

The hand that had been correcting one loose strand stops, and she draws her fingers away from the braid as she simply stares at his reflection in the mirror. ]

[ And now she's looking at his image as if she's seeing him for the first time. Like, really, him.

She's always known him to be a handsome man, but aw, c'mon, this is just unfair. Especially since she was the one who did his hair! ] ...Oh, my. [ She brings her hand to her lips, feeling her cheeks flush pink. ]

Ophilia?

[He turns just enough to look at her over his shoulder, his brow knit with concern.]

Are you quite alright? You look as though you're not feeling well.

[As usual, it goes right over his beautiful head.]

[ She's enchanted. ]

...You truly are beautiful, professor.

[ She murmurs, looking at him as if he's a complete stranger. Because sometimes just when she thinks she has him figured out, he surprises her once more. He has a knack for finding out others' secrets by just looking at them, but she wonders if he really even needs that talent when clearly they would spill them all anyway for him anyway. ]

[ Then it occurs to her that she spoke her thoughts aloud, and she quickly draws away from him, letting her hands fall to her side. She's embarrassed, yes, but she's sure that he'll just laugh it all away and move on, not thinking twice about it. She's attempts a smile, taking her blunder as gracefully as she can.

So trying to cover for herself, she speaks lightly as if in a joke, trying to direct his attention away from her. ] That is, I'm rather envious. You'll be turning everyone's heads tonight.

[Given that Cyrus is the sort to offer compliments freely and without any significant meaning behind them, he doesn't think there's anything out of sorts about her own slip, only smiles humbly and bows his head to her in thanks.]

A kindness indeed, from a beauty such as yourself. You mustn't forget your own efforts; I'm certain I would be little more than another bookish wallflower without your skilled hands.

['Thanks for the braid.']

You have my thanks. I daresay you'll be turning heads of your own tonight.

[ Such flowery praise, but she's known him long enough to know that is all it is and nothing more. It's a sobering reminder, if nothing else. ]

I'm unworthy of such flattery, professor. [ A laugh, and she continues cordially. ] Your words are much better suited for someone such as Primrose. [ Who does indeed always turn heads. And livens up any festivity. And-- aw, it's hard not to miss her and the others. Ophilia's sure they would enjoy this, too.....

:< She misses her friends.

With her work done, she draws away from him, lowering her hands to her sides, Her smile is quieter than before, but it is a smile nonetheless as she looks upon him once more. ] Well? Off you go.

Nonsense— though of course, Miss Primrose is also quite lovely, that does not make you any less so.

[He is, as ever, free and open with his praise, though it is genuine— to him, these things are objective, and quite true without there being any necessity for sentiment behind them.

He stands, smoothing out the front of his vest before turning his head slightly to better admire her handiwork.]

You really did do a magnificent job— is there aught I can do to aid you? Perhaps not in preparing for the party, but I should like to return the favor somehow.

[ She hasn't forgotten that most of the "people" here are inky ghosts of side characters. But surely they may count for the "heads turned" tally, with Ophilia just happening to be the unfortunate first. But she is nothing if not resilient and with overcome it, perhaps to even laugh about it herself later to be among the many who have found him so enchanting; it seems that she's no different from them at all. And, if she were being perfectly honest--... it had been nice, she thinks. To feel that brief flutter of her heart, that feeling and hope that someone may look at her in the same way.

To his question, however, she merely shakes her head, hand idly lifting to pull at one ruined curl. ]

Only that you should enjoy yourself at this party. [ It's such an Ophilia-answer that it's almost painful.

She adds, mock-stern: ] And I shall be very upset if you don't. Primrose taught you and H'aanit dance lessons, did she not? It's time to put them to the test here.

[It is, indeed, precisely the sort of answer he's come to expect from her, and his expression softens, smile appreciative even in the face of her playing at preemptively reprimanding him.]

I shall do my utmost not to let Miss Primrose's efforts go to waste, I assure you— nor yours.

[He won't let her handiwork go unappreciated!]

While I cannot promise grace or polish, I shall do my very best. I implore you to ensure you enjoy yourself tonight, as well.

An assignment from Professor Albright? [ She laughs, stepping out of the way for him to pass by. She lifts up a bit of her skirt as gives him a polite curtsy. ]

I promise you I will not fail.

[He can't help but laugh in turn, bowing his head to her in reply.]

Indeed— see that you don't. There is no feeling greater than seeing my students succeed.

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[OPEN] Ritchie like guy and I still eat Thai

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