forum Runner's Start (Private)

Started May 19, 2019 by Deleted user

tune

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"….Do I get a pan?" he asked, dead serious.

She snorted. "I mean, if you can bash some faces in with it, I guess."

"That's why I always used a cast iron skillet. Those things weighed a ton." He got up from the bed and yawned again. "Anyways, are we gonna train, or what?"

She signed the letter, a mix of pretty and sloppy cursive with a smiley face. "You're too tired. Better to train with a clear mind than a groggy one."

"So what do you suggest?" he asked. He didn't even bother denying her statement.

(my mother just mentioned a cast iron skillet and I'm concerned now. Too coincidental)

"Sleep. I'll get us some food and more permanent housing for the time being." She got up and ruffled his hair with a half smile.

(I'm your mom)

He blushed slightly, hoping it wasn't too noticeable.
"Do I have to?" he asked.

(That's just weird)

"Your yawning is putting me to sleep." She poked his side. "Go take another nap, Princeling. I'll wake you up when I got the food."

He sighed out of his nose, but he couldn't disagree with her. "Alright, alright," Runner said, standing up and yawning.

She sighed as well and moved behind him to lightly push on his back, moving him out of her room and into his. "C'mon sleepy head. Andiamo a dormire."

"I have no clue what you just said, but okay." He laid face-down on his bed, not even bothering to use his blanket.

"Let's go to bed," she translated. She stood next to the bed with her hands on her hips. "Can I trust you'll stay here and not skip out on me?"

"Where will I have to go?" he asked through the pillow. "I don't even know where I am right now."

"Doesn't mean you can't run."

"Just 'cause my name's Runner doesn't mean it's what I always do."

She poked his back with a small chuckle and turned to leave. "Whatever you say, Princeling."

"Prince." He raised his head. "Princeling feels like an insult."

"Princeling," she said again, turning to look at him with a smirk and an exaggerated bow.

He rolled his eyes and dropped his head back onto the pillow. "Whatever."

"Ciao," she said, then slipped out to find a house to rent and some food to eat.

Runner fell asleep, once again snoring loudly. He didn't even wake up to the sound of the neighbor banging on the wall to try to get him to stop.

About three hours later, the scent of chicken, pasta, and mashed potatoes made its way into Runner's room. Tessa had got a house–the keys were in her back pocket–and two plates of dinner courtesy of the hotel. Food was free and the house had cost a pretty penny, but she didn't mind. Being a member of the Vanguard came with perks.

She set the plates on the table in Runner's room as quietly as she could–she didn't know why, but she did–then leaned over to Runner and gently shook him by the shoulders. "Principe, è ora di svegliarsi e mangiare," she said softly.

(I have an idea to get them lovey dovey)

"Mmmmmmmmph," he grumbled, rolling over onto his back. He didn't even open his eyes before slurring out, "5 more….minutes…."

(Ooo, do tell)

She flicked her brows up. He's as bad as me. "Principe," she cooed, trying again.

(She gets drunk and starts spilling out her past to him as he tries his best to calm her down)

"Okay, okay," he grumbled, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. His lips were pursed in a pout as he squinted around the room. "What time is it?"

(That's actually accurate–and something she does in almost every other romance rp I have her in)

"5:25. I got food and a house." She stood up straight and headed over to the plates of food, holding one up for him. "Voila."

(Imao, so something else, then?)

He stared down at it, throwing of the residue of sleep that kept him somewhat incoherent.
"A fork?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

(Okay, I wanna do the drunk, because she gets overly affectionate and touchy-feely. Maybe she's just all over him with, like, just a t-shirt and underwear?)

She picked up one of the forks with her other hand. "Ta-da."

(He might cry, imao, but yes)

"Thanks," he mumbled, shoving the fork into the pile of pasta and impaling 3 of them at once.

(Oh no, don't cry!)

She grabbed her food and perched on the edge of his bed, eating silently. She was kinda craving some wine, but she'd have to hold off on that–for now.