call me out v. 13.0

[misheard]

Call out one of the characters from my muselist with a starter, a prompt, a general 'hey can we do something with these characters' comment, a smoke signal, etc., and I'll get back to you with some kind of RP thread!

Old CR, new CR, assumed CR, canonmates, AU, crossover, whatever, it's all good.

Comments

gershom

[spelleton]

Are you in the middle of anything right now?

If not can I come over

[songinchains]

[ idk hit me with that gay shit, grimm and brumm doing some good old mutual pining?? grimm teasing him?? WHATEVER U WANT ]

[accidentallich]

[When has Gershom ever been in the middle of anything - okay, that's not true, he has Skype calls sometimes. But right now he doesn't, so.]

I'm not busy at all. Are you alright?

[spelleton]

[ He writes!! And has Skype calls!! Or he wants alone time?? Ekkehardt doesn't claim to know or assume what Gershom does with his unlife. ]

I'm fine. Don't worry. [ What he doesn't say that if anything had damaged him enough for things to be a problem he absolutely wouldn't be burdening Gershom with it. ]

I didn't want to disturb you with a visit if you were in the middle of something. That's all.

[hagrides]

[There are, in rare cases, lands they travel to where plant life flourishes.

The kingdom still suffers. The regret and anger of the dead still clings to the land. But flowers have found a way to thrive, climbing the walls of empty houses and creeping out of cracks in the floors.

While the Grimmkin hunt down the last few flames, Grimm takes a moment to indulge himself.]

My dear Brumm, I have something for you.

[Held behind his back, of course. It's a surprise.]

[accidentallich]

Your visits don't disturb me, I'm always happy to see you. Come any time.

[songinchains]

[ This kingdom is much like any other, in its own way. Unique in its structures and those who must have once lived there; now abandoned, desolate. Chasms crawl across the land, forming gaping wounds; empty reminders of the throes of its agony.

Brumm plays, and fills that emptiness with sound. The ghosts flock to music, and he finds himself playing songs he does not know, and cannot remember once they're gone. Such performances, where he is a conduit for another's regrets, leaves him feeling tired and outside of himself, but he understands that in a small way, this is necessary.

But he's tired. He doesn't feel like playing right now, so he's put down his accordion for the evening.

He looks up, weariness falling from him easily at the sight of Grimm. Being around his master always makes him feel better, somehow. ]

Mrm? [ Grimm likes to spring little surprises on him, now and then. He doesn't really know why. ] What is it, master?

[hagrides]

[Brumm's role is vital. As is Grimm's. As are all of theirs. It is tiring work, but it must be done.

But even though they are given their roles to play and will fulfill them faithfully, they are still people, and they can take time for themselves.]

Would you close your eyes?

[songinchains]

[ ... ]

Mrm...of course. [ He'll do many things for Grimm, after all.

Behind the mask, he shuts his eyes, not entirely certain of what to expect. ]

[spelleton]

[ Soon enough, there's a polite knock on the door. Even if Gershom got more visitors than he does, Ekkehardt's knock is always distinctly orderly. It's emblematic of his personality, really. ]

[hagrides]

[Carefully, Grimm sets the crown of flowers he'd made on Brumm's head, over his horns. He takes a moment to retrieve a hand mirror.]

You may open your eyes again.

[Grimm holds out the mirror to Brumm so that he can see himself, adorned with lovely red and pink flowers woven together in a crown.]

How is it? I made it myself.

[accidentallich]

[The lock clicks open. Gershom always takes a step back away from the door and to the side, so that no one might see him over Ekkehardt's shoulder.]

Come in.

[It's another cat pajamas kind of day. Most days are.]

[spelleton]

[ He steps in, closing the door behind him before he exchanges any pleasantries. ]

It's a pleasure to see you as always, Gershom.

Are you well?

[accidentallich]

The same as always. What about you?

[He asked if Ekkehardt was okay earlier but listen, that's different.]

[songinchains]

[ He doesn't open his eyes until Grimm tells him to, even though he feels Grimm close and his hands near to his horns. That alone would make him blush (because he's hopeless, as always), and then he actually sees what Grimm has made him.

He's glad for the mask. Even though the heat on his face makes it feel like there's no barrier at all, and he's almost certain Grimm can hear his heart pound away in his chest and his breath catch.

It takes him a moment to speak. ]

It's--beautiful.

[ He raises his hands to touch it in a way that suggests he can't quite comprehend it's real. ]

Mrm, master, I shouldn't...you should wear it. [ It would look better on him. Everything looks better on him. ]

[hagrides]

[To see Brumm so overwhelmed warms Grimm's heart. There is little Grimm would not do to make him blush under that mask.

Grimm really is hopeless, isn't he.]

My friend, I made it specifically for you.

[So only Brumm can wear it.]

[songinchains]

[ He touches it again. Made for him. He doesn't know what to do with that. Does anyone know what to do with something like that?

There are so many thoughts buzzing in his head. He can't seem to form them into any kind of coherency. ]

I can't... { He almost says that he can't accept it, but...no. That feels like the wrong thing to say. (What would be the right thing to say? He doesn't know.) ]

I'm--Mrm. I'll have to make you one in return. Master.

[hagrides]

I would be honored to accept it.

[It doesn't matter if Brumm made him the worst flower crown that has ever been woven. Grimm would wear it proudly.

Made for him by a precious person. Of course he must accept.]

[songinchains]

[ Brumm doesn't consider himself bad with his hands, but he's a musician, not a craftsman. They're worlds apart.

Still, it's for Grimm, so he tries his hardest. Even if he never makes another flower crown in his life, he'll still do all he can to make this one perfect.

It takes him some time to produce the crown he'd promised Grimm.

The Grimmkin giggle and tease him, but they oblige him gladly when he asks them to help him reach flowers he wouldn't be able to otherwise. One of them holds the torch for him when he almost falls asleep at the end of a long day and several performances, working painstakingly to weave flowers together with suddenly-clumsy fingers, putting on the final touches to a crown that shimmers with every colour of flower he could find. An ornate and striking rainbow.

He's tired. Maybe a nap wouldn't hurt. He wouldn't want to accidentally damage it, somehow...

That same Grimmkin giggles and leaves the torch lit, careful not to wake him, and goes to find Grimm. It's not very difficult; all the grimmkin have a sense for where the master of the troupe is.

They wonder what he's doing now, though. If he's busy, this might be more difficult. Brumm might wake up before Grimm gets there. But then again, that would probably be cute, too.

Decisions, decisions. ]

[spelleton]

I'm doing quite well, yes. Thank you for asking.

[ He looks thoughtful for a moment. ] May I ask you a question?

[hagrides]

[Not all of Grimm's time is downtime, of course. Even when he isn't fulfilling his role as Grimm, he has duties as master of the troupe. Practicing performances, checking their supplies, seeing to it that everything runs smoothly.

He's counting their medical supplies when the Grimmkin finds him - the other members of the troupe aren't nearly so resilient as he.]

Good evening.

[Does this Grimmkin have need of him?]

[accidentallich]

Certainly.

[Why would he not be able to ask Gershom a question? Even if Gershom wasn't comfortable answering, he would just say so and Ekkehardt would back off.]

[songinchains]

[ Oh, good! He's busy, but not busy. This is a good thing.

They float about in apparent indecision, before giggling and beckoning to him, indicating he should follow. Could be a prank, could be something else. It's a mystery~*~

But they clearly want him for something, even if it's not strictly a need. ]

[hagrides]

[Grimm has definitely been on the receiving end of pranks before, but they're ultimately harmless and he can laugh at them afterward. So there's no reason for him to hesitate.

He follows after them, wherever they might lead.]

[songinchains]

[ They lead him to one of the tents, where Brumm has been hard at work until very recently. The musician is still asleep, the torch casting strange shadows across him as it flickers. He doesn't even stir; he's normally a light sleeper, so he must be tired.

The many-coloured flower crown he'd worked so hard to make almost shimmers in the torchlight, held delicately in his hands.

He said that he would, after all. ]