[attr="class","margot"]

[attr="class","margot b"]

[attr="class","margot i"]"don't know, don't care."

pearls are pearls as pigs are pigs. they're all the same, what's it matter?

her eyes are haunting when they turn to him, a pale blue with an odd sort of way about them. they exist in pieces, as if one is present and the other is looking beyond. one could say the same of her in some regard, half here and halfway to insanity.

"squealing like one might be better," she bares teeth quickly, without hesitation. "wanna test it?"

fog curls at their heels, lapping like hungry dogs. she pays it no mind. it's insignificant, of little interest. impatience leads to her tapping fingers against a sheathed blade, nails harsh and hollow against steel.

where are all the pigs?

she does, however, stare at enzo when he perches himself. somehow, there's a sense of disapproval in his flippant disregard for the dead. she voices as much a moment later, tone biting against the eerie silence.

"off."

her tyranitar huffs beside her but otherwise stays quiet, alert, observant.

"have some respect for the dead."

she says nothing further and turns away, attention already sweeping back toward what lies beyond the fog.

vincenzo de luca
pearls before swine.

A pithy, high noise sounds from the back of his throat. “Shouldn’t you, though? That is the point of this excursion, is not?”[break][break]

It sounds silly when he says it out loud– stealing the pearls off of pigs. How is any aspect of their task not utterly ridiculous?[break][break]

If he is meant to be intimidated by the way she turns her strange eyes toward him, Enzo proves to be a disappointment. Lilac glints back at her through the low dark, even and placid. A look that says, don’t bore me.[break][break]

“Your temperance leaves much to be desired, Miss Mori,” he remarks, nose wrinkling at the way she flashes her teeth at him like an angry dog. It strikes close to home, once again and he brushes off the memory of his own proclivity to snarl and snap when provoked.[break][break]

The edge she sits on is precarious, like the fine line of a honed blade. The tension traces the outline of her frame, sharpening her up, and perhaps it is foolish to rile her further, but Enzo (despite his admonishment,) cannot help but act as a whetstone. Flinty and provoking.[break][break]

“Manners, Margot.”[break][break]

If she is going to be clipped with him, he will be in turn. Rather than move as she insists, Enzo examines his nail beds. Still seated rather comfortably, his houndoom pacing the ground beside the headstone.[break][break]

“What is there to respect? I’m curious.”

[break][break]

+ margot mori    | pearls before swine

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

[attr="class","margot"]

[attr="class","margot b"]

[attr="class","margot i"]she shrugs the concept right off odd, bony shoulders.

"so?"

whatever point this endeavor has, she cares little for. it's insignificant, as if nothing more than another paragraph in the book and all that poetic shit. gag.

sharpened teeth shine a little whiter at the concept he presents. temperance? desire?

"bite me."

and she leaves the topic to die beneath a sharp tongue, then.

well... she wanted to.

"manners?" the fuck? is silent.

he doesn't move. instead, he merely gets a little more comfortable before examining his cuticles. it's annoying in a way she can only describe as blatant loathing.

"their rest."

spirits are, perhaps, worse to piss off than the living. at least you could kill the living but the dead? there's nothing to stop when they come for you.

"now move."

vincenzo de luca
pearls before swine.

“You could stand to benefit from some temperance.” That was the only point he had to make. He’d been like this at one point. Angry and feral. Irreverent for any sense of social etiquette.[break][break]

Through careful measures of practice and restraint, he’s twisted himself. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, rather than the wolf, plain as is.[break][break]

This iteration of Rocket is different from the old–the smart move was to adapt. It is odd to see newer members not cater to this notion. Or maybe it’s the familiarity he senses that rankles him more.[break][break]

“Yes. You have none.” His words were flat as he turned a slow look of distaste toward her.[break][break]

He barks out a laugh, head tilting backward with the sound. “I get none, so why should they?” Enzo is not nearly as superstitious as she seemingly is. Spirits have never harmed or helped him, so why should he pay them any sort of mind?[break][break]

The amused timbre of his laughter fades, though, in wake of her command. The stupid spoink that they are meant to be procuring are temporarily forgotten.[break][break]

Violet eyes flit up to hers, pale blue and hostile. The flicker in his own might mirror that same sentiment. “You do not direct my actions.” His lip curls for a passing second, the beginnings of a snarl.

[break][break]

+ margot mori    | pearls before swine

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

[attr="class","margot"]

[attr="class","margot b"]

[attr="class","margot i"]nah... perhaps temperance could benefit from her.

she says nothing on the subject. it dies at her feet, silent yet screaming.

"i don't need manners."

not in this business.

what good would that do?

his laughter does little to deter her from the stance she has chosen. and despite them being in another realm of existence, the concept of not paying the dead any mind crawls beneath her skin. by the time its a thousand centipedes scurrying in and around bones, he's beginning to show a snarl and she's had enough.

"wanna bet?"

her tyranitar growls low. a warning... yet perhaps not for him.

in the dim light, her scar seems to twist and turn. it makes pale blue look odd, haunted in a way. maybe she's the dead he should be respecting instead.

the sound of a spoink in the distance aims to distract. saved by the oink, she muses with a soft tch.

"let's go."

she doesn't wait for him to possibly not move an inch. her body is already skulking forward toward the sound.

vincenzo de luca
pearls before swine.

Wanna bet?[break][break]

“Absolutely.” He spits the word back, but it seems that the rise of the threat level is doomed to taper before it really takes off.[break][break]

He watches her coolly, unbothered by the impression she cuts. Bitey and fierce. Just because he does not mirror the same image does not mean he did not at one time.[break][break]

A younger version of himself that he would like to claim is dead and buried in the backyard is still always with him wherever he goes. That surly, cutthroat boy that ran the streets and abandoned a life to trade it out for another.[break][break]

He clawed his way to the top. Blood under his nails, in the narrow gaps between his teeth. He wasn’t kind nor tempered, so all at once, he gives up on the insistence that she temper her foul mood.[break][break]

A wolf is a wolf. Some don’t do well in sheep’s clothing.[break][break]

As it’s pointless to deny what lurks under the placid surface of his put together appearance, so too is it pointless for her to deny her prominently feral nature.[break][break]

Perhaps he’s just uncomfortable with the level of deja vu.[break][break]

The sound of snuffles and rooting pulls his dour thoughts and he leans up off of the headstone to slink forward, though it has nothing at all to do with her demands.[break][break]

Now he just wants to find the damned spoink and prove a point. Though he doesn’t quite know what it is or why he should appeal to the stubborn likes of Margot.[break][break]

Like a child on the playground, angry to have been one-upped.

[break][break]

+ margot mori    | pearls before swine

[attr="class","pokeclass"]