(Untitled)

[nottoodeep]

A little boy wanders in with a definite bounce to his step, stopping with a look of surprise as he enters what is obviously not the room he was expecting to walk into. His hair is a shaggy mix of brown and blond and his eyes are blue and extremely attentive as the initial shock and minor panic become a case of childish curiosity. From his mouth

Comments

[underfedpunk]

"Hi," Castor says back from his place on the couch, head tilted to one side, hands wrapped around his cup of lukewarm tea.

[nottoodeep]

Cicero's expression brightens even more, if that's at all possible, and he trots over to plot down on the couch as well. "Hi. My name's Cicero. Who're you?"

[underfedpunk]

"I'm Castor." He looks around. "Did you just come here on your own?"

[nottoodeep]

"Oh. That's a cool name." He nods, obviously not at all bothered by being alone. "Yup. But I think this is the place that you go to when you're not going anywhere at all. Tace talks about it sometimes so I know I'll be fine when I figure out how to get back home."

[camerastealsoul]

*puts down his camera and makes a face best described as "hmm"* Hi. Where'd you come from?

[nottoodeep]

Level Seven! *this expression would be best described as ^___^* I was trying to go to the freezer for some ice cream but this isn't the freezer.

[camerastealsoul]

Well, that's a long way down, isn't it. *he's cute-- exuberant small-child cute but cute nonetheless* I bet there is some ice cream if you want some.

[nottoodeep]

Doesn't matter where it as long as I don't get in trouble between here and there. That's what Al says, anyway. *and yes, now he bounces on the balls of his feet* Think there might be chocolate ice cream? My favourite's chocolate chocolate-chip.

[invertedtoo]

*is clearly amused because awww, ickle!demon; probably knows who he is, too, though they also probably haven't had much of a chance to talk* Well, hi there.

[nottoodeep]

*he might sort of recognize her but he tends to sort of recognize a lot of people even if he doesn't really know them so he'll just smile and say as much* Hi! You look familiar! But a lot of people look familiar so my name's Cicero and who are you?

[invertedtoo]

*can't help smiling back at him because it's infectious* I'm Rain, and -- you probably know me from Hell. I get around a lot.

[nottoodeep]

Ooooh! I figured you probably either came to the restaurant a lot or you were in Hell a lot. Those are the places I know, anyway, even though I'm not supposed to go out of the kitchen much in Hell. Dad says he's gotta keep an eye on me so I don't get in trouble.

[waragainstfaith]

*he's likely got a guitar and a seat on one of the many couches, so he'll glance up at hearing Cicero's entrance and look immediately somewhere between wary and amused* ...hi.

[nottoodeep]

*sorry, Dio, but the instrument makes you a Cicero magnet* You've got a guitar! *jumps up onto the couch, amazingly careful of said guitar for a kid his age* My brother plays guitar. I wanna learn but Tace says I need to learn to focus first because he says I'm too hyper to really learn anything right now. Are you any good at it?

[waragainstfaith]

*has to grin at that, because (prepare yourself for a shocker here, typists) he loves his guitar* I think I know your brother, then, and yes, I'm very good at it. *totally unembarrassed about this total failure at modesty*

[nottoodeep]

*the most important thing to be said is--* My brother's the best brother ever anywhere between Heaven and Hell! *and, that said, one interesting thing about being a demon, even a very angelic demon, is that things like pride can actually just make people cooler* What kind of stuff can you play?

[_trouble__]

...HI! WHO'RE YOU? I'M OMFGWE'REALLINTROUBLENOW, BUT THAT NAME'S KIND OF LONG AND SILLY, EVEN THOUGH IT'S FITTING, SO PEOPLE USUALLY JUST CALL ME TROUBLE.

[nottoodeep]

*O.O at her name* Wow. I've never heard a name like that before. Mine's just Cicero. Sometimes people call me Cero but that's just my sister and brother and dad most of the time. *and because it's of utmost importance, apparently* My dad's the Master Chef of Hell.