perma open rp post (call me out/picture prompt/any prompt)

[unversed]

★ pick someone you want to play with and put it in the subject.
★ feel free to request if you don't see 'em on the list. (muse strength may vary)
★ leave any prompt: images, lyrics, texts, etc.
★ feeling uninspired? no worries, i got you bro.
★ have fun!
★ fyi "late" doesn't exist.

Comments

MY SON

[deportment]

[woobies]

[ it's starting to become a routine: every morning he would wake up with the sun (sometimes even before, if he was the last one on watch) and head down to the river to get water for the first pot of tea. sometimes there would be risen to greet him, but after endless rounds of Kjelle's spartan training, he's gotten accustomed to bringing his ax around with him wherever he goes and if he does come back with a few extra bruises and cuts, so be it. only the best for his mother, right?

but it's been getting colder recently and Plegia's winters were nothing to shake a fist at, so he moves as quickly as he dares; nearly dropping the tin of tea leaves and peppermint sticks. eventually, he tiptoes into Maribelle's tent and sets the cup and pot carefully on the low table before tip toeing out --

and getting his foot caught on her staff. ]

[deportment]

[maribelle, sleeping under many layers of only-very-slightly-worn fleece (war is hard on everyone, we all have to make do), wakes with a start and a very undignified snort at the sound.]

What in blazes--

[her sleeping mask gives her a struggle, but she's soon stripped it off her face and disentangled herself from all those blankets, and is reaching for the hefty ax she herself keeps by her bedside... when she stops, and looks, eyes heavy with sleep.]

Brady? What on earth are you doing over there, dear, tent renovations?

[woobies]

[ aw shit. ]

Dammit, Ma! Ya ain't supposed to wake up!

[ he hops on one foot away from the staff and ends up falling over sideways on her bed, getting a mouthful of fleece. ]

... I just wanna give ya some tea.

[deportment]

Language.

[it's a halfhearted chiding, as she blinks herself awake and shifts out of his way. reaching up, maribelle begins the lengthy process of unfastening her hair from the many clips and curlers that hold it in place during the night.

...wait, did he say tea? her morning tea? sure enough, there's the tea set laid out ready. oh, the sweet boy. she heaves a small sigh, but there's a smile behind it.]

Well, there's nothing else for it then, is there? Now that I am awake, you'll just have to join me.

[and she moves to the table, gesturing for him to fetch himself an extra chair from the other side of the tent. chop chop, now.]

[woobies]

[ a tiny hideous flush warms his cheeks at her smile and he grumbles a little, something about "didn't wanna wake ya, the stupid staff was in the way" while he goes to get the extra chair. he drags it over to the table, sitting down properly but still kind of maintaining his thuggish slouch. ]

Sorry, Ma.

[deportment]

Think nothing of it, dear.

[he does look precious when he's embarrassed, even if his posture is terrible. she always keeps spare teacups about; one is placed on the table for him, and it's an act of rare motherly sympathy when maribelle takes the teapot in hand and pours for him, and then for herself.]

Drink up, now. And sit up straight. How has your morning been?

[a casual sip.]