WHO: Trowa Barton, A crowd of NPCs and 14 poor unsuspecting saps all under a curse, and anyone who sees this going on or gets dragged in by accident. ADD YOUR TAGS.
WHERE: Alllllll over the City.
WHEN: Thursday, July 22 (Day 1)
WARNINGS: Large amounts of hideous as the weekend wears on.
SUMMARY: The poor kid pissed off Aphrodite and then told her
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It wasn’t her way to put on a spell and then stay back. She wanted to watch this one unfold and maybe push it along if she had to. Plus it should be good for a laugh or two. The benefits of being a goddess was that she could teleport anywhere she wanted to, and right now that was right in front of Trowa. She might have come in somewhere more hidden, but she forgot that she wasn’t able to make herself invisible anymore and could be clearly seen.
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Trowa sat there with his head resting on his forearms, bangs trailing across the shiny wooden surface of the desk, tired and annoyed. He'd just had to deny someone who thought that juggling with bricks despite having no talent or coordination would be a good idea; only the fact that the ex-pilot had good reflexes had saved his computer monitor from a premature death.
And then the man had given a sly smile and a comment--one about which Trowa still couldn't decide as to whether it had been meant with innocence or in the fashion in which he, having been raised by rowdy mercenaries, had immediately interpreted it.
He glanced up, putting on his secretary persona, dropping it again with a frown shortly thereafter.
"May I help you?"
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“Just came in to say hi,” she said innocently. “Nothing wrong with that right?”
While she hadn’t meant anything with the flirty attitude as it was normal for her, she couldn’t help but notice that…this mortal actually looked pretty good.
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Not busty blond women who stamped the ground like two year olds at not getting their way.
Cautiously, being far too suspicious of Aphrodite already after their first and last conversation, he replied:
"...I'm working. And you don't look like a circus performer."
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“As if,” she said wrinkling her nose in disgust. Circuses were full of freaks, everyone knew that. It was hard to even look at some of them they were so gross.
Trowa though, he wasn’t gross. In fact for a mortal he was kind of…hot. The hair was definitely doing it for him, though he could stand to be wearing more flattering clothes. Maybe one of the shirtless numbers her temple muscle boys would wear. She stared at him hard as she imagined that. “Oh yeah,” she said out loud. “That would definitely work.”
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The staring was beginning to unnerve him; few people had the guts to do it, as he often returned their gaze with a piercing glare of his own that sent them scurrying to look the other way again.
More so when she started talking to herself.
He rolled back a foot or two in the chair, keeping distance between himself and the rogue goddess. He could still remember her promise to make his life entertaining. From the way she was going on, he had no doubt in his mind that she was about to, if she hadn't already--but he wasn't sure he wanted to know how.
"Great. I'm busy. Move."
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“What’s your rush?” she asked smiling at him. She looked around the room bouncing her legs off the side of the desk like a child.
“You don’t look that busy,” she started again with a look that was decidedly not childish. “Besides, you can’t want to circus freaks more than you’d want to talk to me~.”
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Her leg-kicking caused some pencils on the left side to jitter around; he placed his hand over the writing implements to still them and then moved them to their little mesh storage can.
"I prefer quiet people," he retorted, returning his hands to his lap and lacing his fingers together. "Ferdinand is mute. You should learn from him."
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Love spell or not, no one insulted Aphrodite without retaliation. The spell was still growing so Aphrodite had most of her faculties in place even if the mortal was dripping sex. If he had apologized and fawned on her she might have even taken off the spell. No one wants a flee in their hair after all. He was stuck with the spell now though.
“Excuse you?” she said hoping off the desk to stand over him in the chair. “It’s not everyone who gets a visit from a goddess you know. You should be a little more respectful.”
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Besides. Puck had maken him unable to do anything but babble his every thought, once. He could shrug off strangers. Talking without reason was worse.
For now.
"Those who want respect should earn it. No soldier will obey orders given by a poor Captain."
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She was so mad at him, but instead of just vanishing she just started walking behind his chair. “Really, I’m not a captain so that metaphor doesn’t work,” she said flippantly. “I mean…" she broke off the sentence and draped her arms over the back of the chair and Trowa's shoulders, "how can you compare the goddess of love to something so ordinary.”
Personal space was such a stupid concept.
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The moment she touched his shoulders, he was out of the seat, jumping onto the desk and bouncing off again to land some feet away. As he sailed through the air, his body rippled up and out into the ungodly bloodthirsty were-lion form he'd become so used to using. Perhaps she'd seen something like it before; perhaps not. Either way, if he couldn't order her out he'd have to try frightening her, and if that didn't work, then he would have to leave ( ... )
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However the magic flee was still on that lion and another part of her couldn’t help but think he was so cool.
“Hey now, kitty” she said backing up right into a corner (as was clearly the best way to escape.) She put her arms out in front of her in sign of surrender. Surely he’d calm down. If he did anything else like charge, she would teleport out of there.
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Trowa stalked forward a pace or two, the heavy, platter-sized footpaws thudding softly against the shiny tile, and bared his fangs. The words were as thick and clumsy as they always were with that mouth, but he managed to get them out anyway.
"I. Have work. Go away."
Someone would be coming in the next five minutes for an appointment. He didn't want them to see this. Perhaps he could lift her up and put her outside...
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"Fine," she said huffily. If he wanted to be alone that much she'd just wait for him to calm down. Hopefully the love spell would help him get over his fears of being touched.
She gave him one last angry pout before disappearing into golden sparkles.
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Forcing himself to calm down and pick up the pieces of his mask as the one Immovable Object of the universe, Trowa moved back to his seat at the desk and tried to put the papers she'd sat herself down on into something of a proper order.
After that horror, even the brick-juggler returning for more would almost have been a welcome distraction.
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