Well . . . He does this thing, I don’t know what it is. But every time he does it, it makes people really happy.
[ confetti could probably already do that without bestowing any type of spell on anyone— he just had that gift. or the looks. the rock left and right is fun, and all that positivity born from it is stored into his speckled eggshell. he is a creature of happiness, and hope, and generally doesn’t show himself to those who lacked that— to prove falco’s point, the togepi shrills high and opens his beak high, stubby little wing-hands waving about: to have fun and to share his happiness, to which paul would feel an explosive burst of something tickling in his chest, melting— and being given joy. ]
I’ll get him some snacks, real quick— [ the boy clatters any chairs out of the way to make it to his bag, where he pulls a jar of apple sauce and a spoon he’s prepared for the little guy. and— what he’s prepared for paul, too, tucked carefully from his sights.
it’s a wrapped gift, and within the gift is the model of a mouse, with circular ears and deep green eyes. falco’s sewing wasn’t exactly the best, but his effort is adorned in every stitch and craft put into making it. it smells like flowers, and keeps beasts at bay. the eyes of the plush mouse, as well as the pieces within it are hardened fractures of his blood, not at all beautiful to begin with, but . . . definitely functional.
he has the jar in front of him, and the gift behind his back, left at the far end of the counter for future realizations. ]
no subject
[ confetti could probably already do that without bestowing any type of spell on anyone— he just had that gift. or the looks. the rock left and right is fun, and all that positivity born from it is stored into his speckled eggshell. he is a creature of happiness, and hope, and generally doesn’t show himself to those who lacked that— to prove falco’s point, the togepi shrills high and opens his beak high, stubby little wing-hands waving about: to have fun and to share his happiness, to which paul would feel an explosive burst of something tickling in his chest, melting— and being given joy. ]
I’ll get him some snacks, real quick— [ the boy clatters any chairs out of the way to make it to his bag, where he pulls a jar of apple sauce and a spoon he’s prepared for the little guy. and— what he’s prepared for paul, too, tucked carefully from his sights.
it’s a wrapped gift, and within the gift is the model of a mouse, with circular ears and deep green eyes. falco’s sewing wasn’t exactly the best, but his effort is adorned in every stitch and craft put into making it. it smells like flowers, and keeps beasts at bay. the eyes of the plush mouse, as well as the pieces within it are hardened fractures of his blood, not at all beautiful to begin with, but . . . definitely functional.
he has the jar in front of him, and the gift behind his back, left at the far end of the counter for future realizations. ]