[Oh hi. Strangely adorable creeper standing a few feet behind you.
His voice is quiet, almost intrigued. Jean-Baptiste doesn't really care about the question he's voicing and his attention is very much fixed on Lilith.]
[Handsome boy he may be, but Lilith's creeper bells are chiming. She would know, capable of some mega-creepy shit herself. Her tongue presses against the back of a canine, and she watches him.]
[Again, a gentle head shake, the motion barely there. Jean-Baptiste dares to take a step forward, breathing a little deeper and quite obviously sniffing.
He can't work you out, Lilith. Intrigued, he takes another step.]
[Her lips pucker in that thoughtful way. It's a warning to those familiar with Lilith that she's debating violence or some other harmful path. To a stranger, she just seems downright disapproving.]
[That... was an interesting reaction. Maybe she didn't hear him?]
I said, can I ask what you are?
[He speaks a little louder this time around, though it's still quiet, soft. Since she hasn't pushed him away, Jean-Baptiste dares to take another step forward and inhale.]
[He's only half listening, attention flickering to her face for the briefest moment when she speaks before shifting to her hair. There is something strange, mysterious about the woman that stands in front of him. Foreign and strange and beautiful.
Grenouille reaches, movement slow and careful to try and touch Lilith's hair.]
[Smiling invitingly, Lilith nevertheless snatches his wrist just moments before his fingertips can touch her hair. Her hand is stronger than he might have encountered in women of 18th century France.]
[Every once in a while, there's a guy who gets off on the sniffing, but usually that's after they get up close and handsy and most of time the guy focuses on her neck or something. She tolerates it. Nothing TOO weird about it, and it's frankly kind of flattering.
Grenouille is clearly not entirely human and not entirely of a mind.]
[Is that a threat or an invitation, Lilith? Jean-Baptiste moves to hold her arm, quite content to press his face against the back of the hand that holds his wrist.]
His voice is quiet, almost intrigued. Jean-Baptiste doesn't really care about the question he's voicing and his attention is very much fixed on Lilith.]
What is a skag?
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... whoa, dude's got a pretty face. And he looks kind of drugged out.]
Big doggie with armor and a prehensile tongue. Some of 'em spit acid. Would you want one humping you up the butt?
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Jean-Baptiste sniffs the air, brow furrowing ever so slightly at the scent he catches. He seems... confused.]
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My deodorant offending you, babe?
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He can't work you out, Lilith. Intrigued, he takes another step.]
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Earth to sniffy? Helloooo?
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Hello Miss. Can I ask what you are?
[He's soft spoken, polite... and speaking French.]
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[He's talking the language of love. Creeper that he is, Lilith won't mind one bit if he doesn't stop talking.
She makes a vague gesture and cups one of her ears, affecting innocent inquiry.]
Say that again?
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I said, can I ask what you are?
[He speaks a little louder this time around, though it's still quiet, soft. Since she hasn't pushed him away, Jean-Baptiste dares to take another step forward and inhale.]
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Lilith is grinning, but still on her guard. She's watching to see if he makes any sudden movements or otherwise damning twitches.]
I'm a siren, little boy. You know what those are?
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[He's only half listening, attention flickering to her face for the briefest moment when she speaks before shifting to her hair. There is something strange, mysterious about the woman that stands in front of him. Foreign and strange and beautiful.
Grenouille reaches, movement slow and careful to try and touch Lilith's hair.]
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What're you on? You have got to be high.
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Your scent. My nose knows all the smells in the world, it does.
[Another steady inhale. He leans ever so slightly towards her wrist.]
I do not know yours.
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[Every once in a while, there's a guy who gets off on the sniffing, but usually that's after they get up close and handsy and most of time the guy focuses on her neck or something. She tolerates it. Nothing TOO weird about it, and it's frankly kind of flattering.
Grenouille is clearly not entirely human and not entirely of a mind.]
Okay, so what're you gonna do about it? Huh?
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Jean-Baptiste should have paid more attention to her free hand, because it swings to give him a good wholloping on the ear.]
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