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Questionable Autobiographer
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 Posted: Fri Jun 03, 2011 7:23 am
He didn't do much than stand here. The longer he stared at Faust, the more Lacrymos realized how troubled he was. What was it that grew in the Pockettu's heart? Lacrymos wondered why it was so dark. In his own past, Lacrymos had too fallen upon some dark times, but they gave him all the more reason to smile. Why didn't Faust smile?
Lacrymos simply nodded and remained silent as well. He looked around for something comfortable and moved toward a small piece of fabric that seemed to be thrown about. As he approached it, he kept on thinking about Faust. It started to seem to him that perhaps his attachment to Faust isn't just a purely physical one, although there is no denying that the German Pockettu was definitely his type.
Bringing the piece of cloth towards the small campsite that Faust had, Lacrymos used it to sit on. Looking up towards the blonde pockettu, Lacrymos broke the silence.
"Why is it that you don't smile, Faust?"
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Posted: Sat Jun 11, 2011 2:09 pm
Sitting down, Faust completely ignored the other. 'Just ignore him, he'll go away.' the street-punk told himself. When the other began to walk away it caused him to rejoice a bit inwardly only to be shot down when the Austrian returned. "...None of your ******** business."
It wasn't, in any sense of the matter. He had just met this Pockettu for the second time and his personal life was nothing he'd willingly share with someone. Sure the street fighting and finding out something disturbing about his brother made him a hateful person but losing his best friend was the icing on the cake. It was surprising Faust didn't wind up in a mental hospital... but he did end up in one regardless. Upon the loss of his friend he became a heavy drinker and well... drinking too much sends one to a hospital. It was a miracle in itself he survived with how much he had in his system that night. Since the German had vowed to never let the devil's elixir touch his lips again.
Faust closed his eyes and found himself reminiscing on the past. As his eyes opened he pushed away the thoughts that marred his mind. "Don't ask again." It was both a warning and a threat all in one.
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Questionable Autobiographer
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Posted: Sat Jun 11, 2011 2:31 pm
Simply staring at the German pockettu, Lacrymos frowned at the answer. Although, he couldn't deny that Faust was right. It really wasn't any of his business. He barely knew Faust, so he had no place to probe.
Although, it was clear to him that the scars that Faust carried with him were clearly marked. As much as he tried to hide them, Lacrymos could see that he was struggling with something. 'I'd like to help him...' Lacrymos thought. He didn't realize the own struggles he'd face with 'helping' Faust but it was going to be worth it.
"Alright, Faust. I won't ask ever again."
Closing his own eyes, Lacrymos shuffled and soon laid down on the cloth he picked up, trying to get comfortable. It certainly was nothing like his comfortable bed back home, but for now he doesn't mind. He curled up to catch as much warmth as possible.
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Posted: Sat Jun 11, 2011 5:10 pm
Agitation viciously clawed at Faust's patience. He wanted the other gone and now. "Hey." He stated suddenly as he stood up, soon towering over the Pockettu who laid before him. "Get up and get out of here. You're not staying here any longer." The German side of his mixed accent showed as he spoke. Perhaps it was the anger within the tone of voice that let it come out more clearly than normal. Usually it was a garbled mixture of the heavy "u" sounding Finnish and the harsh sounding German. If anyone were to talk to him and try to figure out where he was from they'd know he was shipped from Europe, but where? Ha! Only he'd know.
"I don't want your company", he added at last.
It was true - he was fine all on his lonesome. Sure everything eventually comes to long for interaction, Faust didn't want this one's presence around him. He got bad vibes from the platinum blonde. Why? He wasn't sure and sure as hell wasn't going to wait and find out.
"So get lost."
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Questionable Autobiographer
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Posted: Sun Oct 23, 2011 7:00 pm
Barely starting to feel the warmth of the cloth he curled up in, Lacrymos looked up at Faust as he spoke. His tone was harsh and unwelcoming. The light-blonde pockettu was definitely intimidated by the other and only curled up in his make-shift blanket.
"Faust,I know that right now you may seem irritable of people-" he was going to continue until Faust finally made his "so get lost" statement. Lacrymos sighed. He hoped that with being quiet and humble would get Faust to at least accept his company, but he knew it wouldn't be as easy as that.
"I just want to make a friend... Please, I'm not here to bother you.." He said compassionately, hoping that some of it would at least reach Faust's ears and perhaps try to find its way into his heart. Something told him that Faust was sure he had no heart.
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Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2012 6:16 pm
A friend? Friend? In him? The thought was completely hilarious to the mix blooded German. "What you want and what I want are two different things. Get lost." Faust growled lowly, gritting his teeth. He didn't need nor want friends. The thought of making friends with this pest was irksome to boot.
When the other showed no signs of moving, he rose to his feet and stalked over. "I'll say it one last time, spell it for you, and even count to three. If you don't get out of here by then I'm not ******** responsible for my actions." There was a lot of venom in his words. He meant business. He had not gotten along with anyone in a long time and although it was very clearly his own doing, he preferred to keep it that way.
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Questionable Autobiographer
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Posted: Tue Aug 28, 2012 10:55 am
Lacrymos knew there was a line somewhere that the German pockettu drew on the sand, and the light-blond wasn't sure which way it was safe to cross. To deal with these kind of people took a special type of stubbornness, Lacrymos knew, but at what point does well-meaning stubbornness turn into selfishness? He wanted a friend, a friend in Faust, and he knew it was possible. Faust, he felt, was so much more than this foul-mouthed, grumpy and loud man.
"...Very well. I trust in you that you're serious.." he barely managed to say. He rose from his seat and carefully placed the cloth down. "I hope we get to meet again soon, though." he said lastly and offered him a sweet smile.
Perhaps Faust was just bluffing, or perhaps he wasn't. Lacrymos decided that persistence in the long run, will win out in the end.
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