A true sunshine protagonist. Country bumpkin, slow on the uptake. Wants to be everyone's friend. Swordian Master of fire, incredibly hot-blooded. A GOOD BEAN. Please love him. He's my favorite and I am biased.
The original fabulous Tales science lady. Probably wants to dissect you pretty shamelessly. Loves and adores cute things. Inventor of the Swordians. Definitely the definition of Mad Scientist.
Sunny wingman. Super hot-blooded, but always means well. Believe in equality and good. Cooks a lot, sometimes well, others times not. Solves problems with his fists. It's pronounced "teatray."
Peepants nerdlord. Picky, fussy, and particular about things, stickler for order. Tendencies to tsun, because he's bad at showing his feelings. IS REALLY A HUGE NERD AND GOOBER, THOUGH.
The name of the game is: give me your Tales, and I'll give you mine! Leave a comment with your Tales character, calling out one of mine (with or without a prompt), or give me the option to choose who I want to toss back! Need ideas? Take some scenarios! Colors order my priority for playing them, other Tales from my muselist are welcome in small doses as well!
[he snorts softly while arching a brow. impressive that she remains so unfazed by her predicament. impressive but also not a personality he's in the mood to deal with right now.
hence why disinterest practically drips off his voice.]
More so than you presently do.
[temporary prisoners have far less on their plate than their captors.
and, as evidenced by the large stack of documents on his desk, a sizable amount of work awaits him. factor in his own personal 'work' aka doing things to betray his boss and former pupil and you have yourself one very busy angel indeed. yggdrasill likely hoped that giving him babysitting duty would prevent him from helping lloyd. good try, mithos, but it won't.]
You can either read whatever books you can understand or simply sit in silence while I write.
[either or suits him perfectly fine.
lots of books fill the bookcases around his room. most, however, contain ancient texts either in angelic or the ancient tongue. there ought to be a few in the modern tongue or she could look at whatever pictures the older one have. sitting in golden silence also remains an option.
whatever she chooses fails to be any concern of his so long as it involves that silence. kratos sits and begins to write while his mind focuses on what his own next move needs to be.]
My, my. So benevolent in your strictness! I'd almost think I wasn't a prisoner if you didn't tell me to keep quiet! ★
[but it seems she's at least amenable to actually listening to kratos.
to some extent.
she's still humming a bit as she reaching for a book that's written in angelic and.
well, she's actually reading it?
it's pretty clear that's she's focused on the words, and after a few moments, she gets up and goes prodding around to pick up two more books—one in the ancient tongue and another in the modern tongue.
...
yeah.
she's absolutely teaching herself two languages at once, murmuring notes to herself, before:]
Hey, grumpy guy! [he has a name, but whatever.] I want to take some notes and you probably don't want me to use your face for that, right?
[please give her something to write with and on. kratos, spare yourself.]
the face kratos makes at the nickname ought to convey his feelings on it well enough. at least her request isn't unreasonable. he opens up a drawer and digs around momentarily. but one thing first: correcting that distasteful nickname.
though something tells him the correction will end up in one ear and out the other.]
Kratos.
[ah paper. he'll hold it out for her to come take. she wanted it, she can come grab it.]
Here.
[he preemptively hands her a pen, too, before she suggests using his own blood.]
Also, you are more of a temporary guest for now. Once you've been thoroughly interrogated then I'll see about changing your status to that of prisoner.
[and getting her out of his hair. he's a busy traitor, he has things to do and places to be and people to confuse about his allegiance!]
Shouldn't you be worrying more about trying to change my status to "free woman?"
[listen, okay.
she's willing to take the paper and pen from him, and she really doesn't hesitate to start taking notes on the languages as she goes—yet somehow, she's also pretty good at keeping up this conversation.]
It's probably not going to work out if you try to imprison me, anyway. [harold, don't incriminate yourself?] Besides, that's a pret-ty big deal to make over a little mixup anyway!
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no subject
hence why disinterest practically drips off his voice.]
More so than you presently do.
[temporary prisoners have far less on their plate than their captors.
and, as evidenced by the large stack of documents on his desk, a sizable amount of work awaits him. factor in his own personal 'work' aka doing things to betray his boss and former pupil and you have yourself one very busy angel indeed. yggdrasill likely hoped that giving him babysitting duty would prevent him from helping lloyd. good try, mithos, but it won't.]
You can either read whatever books you can understand or simply sit in silence while I write.
[either or suits him perfectly fine.
lots of books fill the bookcases around his room. most, however, contain ancient texts either in angelic or the ancient tongue. there ought to be a few in the modern tongue or she could look at whatever pictures the older one have. sitting in golden silence also remains an option.
whatever she chooses fails to be any concern of his so long as it involves that silence. kratos sits and begins to write while his mind focuses on what his own next move needs to be.]
no subject
[but it seems she's at least amenable to actually listening to kratos.
to some extent.
she's still humming a bit as she reaching for a book that's written in angelic and.
well, she's actually reading it?
it's pretty clear that's she's focused on the words, and after a few moments, she gets up and goes prodding around to pick up two more books—one in the ancient tongue and another in the modern tongue.
...
yeah.
she's absolutely teaching herself two languages at once, murmuring notes to herself, before:]
Hey, grumpy guy! [he has a name, but whatever.] I want to take some notes and you probably don't want me to use your face for that, right?
[please give her something to write with and on. kratos, spare yourself.]
no subject
the face kratos makes at the nickname ought to convey his feelings on it well enough. at least her request isn't unreasonable. he opens up a drawer and digs around momentarily. but one thing first: correcting that distasteful nickname.
though something tells him the correction will end up in one ear and out the other.]
Kratos.
[ah paper. he'll hold it out for her to come take. she wanted it, she can come grab it.]
Here.
[he preemptively hands her a pen, too, before she suggests using his own blood.]
Also, you are more of a temporary guest for now. Once you've been thoroughly interrogated then I'll see about changing your status to that of prisoner.
[and getting her out of his hair. he's a busy traitor, he has things to do and places to be and people to confuse about his allegiance!]
no subject
[listen, okay.
she's willing to take the paper and pen from him, and she really doesn't hesitate to start taking notes on the languages as she goes—yet somehow, she's also pretty good at keeping up this conversation.]
It's probably not going to work out if you try to imprison me, anyway. [harold, don't incriminate yourself?] Besides, that's a pret-ty big deal to make over a little mixup anyway!