Player
Life is one hell of a stage, while death is just the final flourish
Milya Ilanos
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Post by Milya Ilanos on Dec 16, 2022 10:42:28 GMT -5
Theft wasn't usually Milya's style. Really, it was quite dull, especially when most people couldn't see them. It was too easy. But, Las Noches was barren of anything about the World of the Living, and more embarrassingly, anything to teach them what they needed to know. So, now, sat inside an uninhabited room - there was something about letting it on the window, but what they were letting the house do was a mystery - Milya flicked delicately through a book as to not tear its pages with their claws. The seat they were on was cushioned, almost like a bed, and big enough to lie down on, but had arms and a back like a chair. They rested their feet on a low table of nebulous purpose.
They'd been stuck on the same sentence for a while, though. History is easy to tell, but difficult to read, as it turns out. Modern language differed greatly to the written form from when they were last reading books, though the did seem more informative. As they read the line one more time, they huff, and throw it to the side carelessly. How are they meant to catch up on anything if they can't understand a written word? And they have far bigger things to defeat than words. But, that is a priority for a different day. "What an absolute disaster," they mutter to themselves, pressing their head into their hands with a heavy sigh in their chest.
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Player
I have nothing to say.
Milo
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Post by Milo on Jan 1, 2023 19:40:52 GMT -5
Milo was a very forward type of arrancar, if she were to be honest. The moment she saw an unfamiliar looking arrancar scurrying off with books from a nearby building, she had to follow behind them with the utmost stealth she learned over the years. Was it curiosity? Perhaps. Her silent steps never lagging too far behind as she watched the mysterious figure make their entrance into an abandoned home, or what would be called a home.
Milo tilted her head, turning from one side to the other and debating whether or not to enter the home as well. Were they friendly? Would they attack her? Would a violent arrancar even take the time to read books? So many questions swirled in her mind.
She had seen a group of kids toss a coin some days ago when she was at a park, from what she heard, it was a way to decide on things. Too bad she didn't have any sort of coin for that process. With a voiceless and silent sigh, she tapped her head and finally decided to quietly enter the house. She muttered a quick apology, mostly because this felt like breaking and entering into a mortal's home.
As she continued to walk inside, she paused and watched the current arrancar struggle to read a book. Their frustration easily read over their expression of deep and irritated focus on the current page. Milo couldn't help but hold back a soft giggle that threatened to escape from her lips. She decided to make her presence known as she peered over the unsuspecting Milya with catlike steps.
"Having trouble there, friend? I can understand this modern language, um, to an extent."
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Player
Life is one hell of a stage, while death is just the final flourish
Milya Ilanos
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Post by Milya Ilanos on Jan 5, 2023 9:37:04 GMT -5
The voice seemed to come out of nowhere, with no warning or no lead-up, not even the sound of footsteps, paws, claws, or anything. So, naturally, Milya's first assumption is that it's something in their head, a stray thought, thus responds, "Darling, I think I'm beyond help with this..." Then, the tone registers, the soft, sweet nature of it. The statement being well-meaning, and helpful. That's not the kind of thing that immediately comes to mind for them, Milya knows they're far too sarcastic to be that helpful. And... that came from behind them, not inside them. Milya turns their head, raising an eyebrow as they look upon the new arrancar in the room, the lilac being the first thing to hit their senses, then the honey yellow eyes.
Well, if this were an ambush, then Milya is fairly sure this person wouldn't be asking if they wanted a hand with reading. Unless it was a very clever ambush. But then they'd have given their position up. Hmm... suddenly, it did occur to them that as they studied this person, they're probably overthinking this, and coming across as quite rude. "Ah, apologies, I don't mean to stare. You know this modern language? It's far beyond my time, unfortunately, and it has been a chore trying to find books that speak my language. According to these, they're what's called primary sources - the documents that make sense, that is." They chuckle, then another thing occurs to them. "I'm very sorry, I've not even asked your name or how you are, how very rude of me." They rub the back of their neck, a friendly, if slightly fanged smile, across their lips.
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