crowspace | OC voicetesting.

[A: the internet]

[The internet is a wonderful thing. It lets Gershom interact with other people without having to be covered head to toe, always fearful that he might have to flee this town just like all the others before.

Like anyone who exists on the internet, especially anyone who exists on the internet 24/7, he has a Twitter.]

What is happening on Twitter? I've been reading the Mishnah all morning, can someone explain the drama to me?

[With appropriate cat gif.]

[B: the apartment... door]
[Whatever reason you have to be outside Gershom's apartment door - selling Girl Scout cookies? Canvassing? One of his neighbors was murdered and you're a police detective who wants details? - it's definitely locked.]

Who is it? Erm, I can't answer the door, I'm very sick.

[He doesn't sound sick, but then again, a door between you and him muffles things somewhat.]

[C: the apartment]
[As one of the few people Gershom knows who knows about the lich thing, you're allowed inside. Gershom is in his cat pajamas, wringing his skeletal hands together.]

I would've changed clothes but my nice outfit has a honey stain on it - um, can I get you something? Books? Some music to put on? ...Books?

[D: wildcard]
[I don't know what I'm doing, if you know what you're doing then fuck you.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Gershom follows suit, at one point reaching out as if to take Marco's hand before pulling his own hand back.]

You're a very kind person.

Thanks~. You're pretty cool, yourself.

[ a little sing-song, with a toothy grin thrown gershom's way. perceptive and as sharp as his eyesight is, he did notice the hand reaching -- mistakes it for the natural swing of the skeleton's gait.

marco pushes the button to the elevator. it lights up. ]

There any place you wanted to go, lately?

If it's not too much trouble... I've heard that there are gardens in the city?

[He hasn't seen real live flowers in... a long time.]

Yeah, that's right. Never been to the biggest one myself. [ a a thoughtful hum. ] There's gotta be vending machines there, anyway.

[ it's decided. they're going to the biggest, nicest of em all. but, into the elevator! to the ground floor, and with a ding. they've arrived. the doors open up to the bottom floor. he allows himself a contented sigh, and a bit dreamily: ]

It's dark, so hopefully it will be lit up all nice too, right?

It sounds wonderful.

[Has Gershom ever seen a garden lit up at night? Probably never. When he was still in a state to visit gardens, they didn't have electric lights.]

[ marco smiles; looks like they're in agreement with that, then. he stops outside the doors to the apartment's exit - just outside, since this is a jamjar, is the big, vibrant, buzzing lights of the city. it's bustling, a little noisy. at least this is a more pleasant district.

he looks to gershom, ]

You ready?

Nu, as ready as I'll ever be...

[Again, he reaches for Marco's sleeve, and again he stops himself. Marco's already been so kind to him, he can't ask for him to touch an abomination like himself.]

[ marco's gaze flicks downward. ah - he thinks he understands, now. his smile becomes just a little wry, and he lowers his hand to gershom's, to loosely slide his fingers between skeletal ones. he will admit to himself: he's never held a skeleton's hand! ]

[ it's a little weird at first, but he doesn't flinch from it. perhaps gershom will be doing the one flinching away. regardless, marco pushes open the door to the big ol', vibrant city: ]

Let's go.♪♫♪

[Marco's hand is so warm, and Gershom is touch-starved. He gives Marco's hand the tiniest squeeze, and his face lights up with a bright smile.]

After you.

[ what a cute smile! marco takes the lead, then, through the doorway - the night air that greets the pair is just a bit chill. neon lights, ahoy. with a glance to gershom, and now armed with another idea, ]

May as well give you a mini tour on the way there, right?

[ he may not have been inside the gardens, but he knows the city very well. a bit too well... ]

You gotta tell me 'bout some stuff you like, though, so I can point out the important stuff.

I like cats. [Obviously-given that he's wearing cat-patterned pajamas.] And reading - poetry especially. Is there a library here?

Cats and poetry, huh...

[ marco thinks on that. ]

There's a library, yeah. It's got three floors, books from all over the world, amenities. Closed a few hours ago, though - we can hit up a bookstore on our way back, prob'bly? [ if they're up for it. ] Ah, but -

[ with his freehand, marco points out a cafe. sadly, it also looks closed, with its sign unlit and its interior dark. the cats are sleeping, shhh. ]

Cat cafe. Ever been to one of those?

No, but I've always wanted to. They sound amazing...!

[The idea that he could actually go to one is almost overwhelming.]

Ah~ They are. At least, I've never met someone that disliked them...?

[ social outings to cat cafes tend to be pretty successful, in his opinion. actually, now that he reflects on it, it would be a bit embarrassing if the owner of it started to recognize him there... ]

If you're not tired of me by the end of the night, [ coupled with a mildly joking tone, ] we could go to one together, sometime.

I'd love to!

[There's more of a spring in his step now, the worries of being stared at and reacted to with disgust overridden by thoughts of cats.]

Nice.

[ they're passing along some 24-hour gym, now, the sort that's blatantly expensive to have a membership with. but you know, as gershom doesn't really strike marco as the type, he'll resisting pointing it out as one of his more frequented places.

instead, ]

What type of poetry is it that you like?

Oh, all kinds. I used to write mostly lyric poetry, back when I still wrote.

[It's been a long time since he's had the nerve.]

Oh.

[ it doesn't take a genius to begin to note a sort of pattern, here, even if it's existence is not unexpected. he cuts a concerned glance to gershom, a grimace tugging at his expression. ]

You ever consider picking it back up?

I have, but... [He fidgets, intwining bony fingers.] It's a long story, and you probably wouldn't be interested.

Well...

[ spoken tentatively. the grimace lightens to a slight, wry smile; an expression he hopes is more appropriately sympathetic. he's noted the fidgeting. ]

I mean, I think you're interesting - and I wouldn't ask if I weren't.

[ not necessarily true, politensss and every scenario considered, but earnest here. ]

If you're sure... I don't want to unload everything on you, when we just met.

[He probably wouldn't want to unload everything on Marco even if they'd known each other for years, but, details.]

I used to write poetry mostly for my ex-lover. He's the one who's the reason I'm like this.

Edited 2020-06-15 03:41 (UTC)

OC voicetesting.

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