(no subject)
Characters: Grell Sutcliff, open.
When: Sometime in the afternoon.
Where: Exploring the Safezone - in particular a broken-down building that may have once been a family home.
Rating: TBD
Summary: Grell's innate curiosity leads him to look around this new place.
Curiosity had killed the cat, that was what the phrase went, but Grell did not think that it applied to him. For one, cats were quite stupid, foul little things that left fur everywhere and scratched whenever he was around. At a distance, they were cute -- and without touching them, their adorableness increased. But when they were on you, ruining clothes, lashing out with their unclean little claws? Mercy, no. Silly things.
Sebas-chan's taste was impeccable, except for his rather curious obsession with the animals. It was something that she would accept, as other lovers would accept that time would eventually turn their flower into a withered, dried up husk, but not easily! What was a great romance without argument? Nothing. Nothing at all. Of this, she was sure.
Passion. Passionate, angry, violent romances were real romances; Othello and Desdemona, Ophelia and Hamlet. Grell's chest lowered in a soft, nostalgic sigh as her mind went back to her novels, prompting a small smile to tug the corners of his wide mouth upwards. "These violent delights have violent ends," he told himself, setting his unadorned hands on his hips as he eyed the house in front of him. Why, it was a positive wreck! What had happened to it? Grell shook his head, his eyes lingering momentarily on a small dress, like something off a doll. Nevermind that the colour was a terribly dull one - blue, so unfashionable! - but the small garment made him sober up, if momentarily.
"I hope you got away, little girl," he said, reaching up to carefully push his fringe out of his eyes. Those bright, inquisitive eyes focused on the wooden door, sagging so strangely on its hinges, and with a determined little nod, Grell shouldered his chainsaw and strode up the pathway. The most he could find was dust, but Grell, ever optimistic, would look anyway. It wasn't like he had anything better to do, considering that he was clueless to where he was.
When: Sometime in the afternoon.
Where: Exploring the Safezone - in particular a broken-down building that may have once been a family home.
Rating: TBD
Summary: Grell's innate curiosity leads him to look around this new place.
Curiosity had killed the cat, that was what the phrase went, but Grell did not think that it applied to him. For one, cats were quite stupid, foul little things that left fur everywhere and scratched whenever he was around. At a distance, they were cute -- and without touching them, their adorableness increased. But when they were on you, ruining clothes, lashing out with their unclean little claws? Mercy, no. Silly things.
Sebas-chan's taste was impeccable, except for his rather curious obsession with the animals. It was something that she would accept, as other lovers would accept that time would eventually turn their flower into a withered, dried up husk, but not easily! What was a great romance without argument? Nothing. Nothing at all. Of this, she was sure.
Passion. Passionate, angry, violent romances were real romances; Othello and Desdemona, Ophelia and Hamlet. Grell's chest lowered in a soft, nostalgic sigh as her mind went back to her novels, prompting a small smile to tug the corners of his wide mouth upwards. "These violent delights have violent ends," he told himself, setting his unadorned hands on his hips as he eyed the house in front of him. Why, it was a positive wreck! What had happened to it? Grell shook his head, his eyes lingering momentarily on a small dress, like something off a doll. Nevermind that the colour was a terribly dull one - blue, so unfashionable! - but the small garment made him sober up, if momentarily.
"I hope you got away, little girl," he said, reaching up to carefully push his fringe out of his eyes. Those bright, inquisitive eyes focused on the wooden door, sagging so strangely on its hinges, and with a determined little nod, Grell shouldered his chainsaw and strode up the pathway. The most he could find was dust, but Grell, ever optimistic, would look anyway. It wasn't like he had anything better to do, considering that he was clueless to where he was.