Tentative Connections [Bbybird/Mickey]

The throbbing pain left in his chest had long since been dismissed, mostly due to the fact that it hurt more to maintain than let go. Or at least, he thought he had let it go. Somehow, in every woman he met he searched for her, for any little resemblance he could cling to. He hated the thought of another man laying a hand on her, to harm her, to love her, to touch her. He purely wanted to remember the time before the blurred flurry of events that tore them apart. He was left the wander the empty streets, listening intently to the sound of his own footsteps; shutters closed, blinds drawn, doors locked against him. He honestly wasn't sure whether he was walking towards something, or merely trying to walk away from it all.

However, it seemed fate would simply not leave room for any form of silenced escapade, only finding further ways to aggravate him. And, as such, pale irises came to fall upon a strange, bouncing, furred mass. The miniature, seemingly fluffy, critter traversed promptly across the terrain in exaggerated bounds, and as it would have it, straight towards him. Remaining rather still as it scrabbled across the pavement, his hands abruptly shot out when it entered his vicinity, aiming to clamp the critter's stomach and draw it up into his arms, holding it awkwardly, a perplexed look falling onto his features. "The fuck are you?" he mumbled, his skull craning to the side, blue hued irises surveying the furred critter. Readjusting his grip, he curiously surveyed the furred being, "some kind of overgrown rat?" Truth be told, in all his years, he had never set eyes on a rabbit, ridiculous as that might have sounded. His finger gently reached over to prod the furry hide, snorting lightly. However, he would soon be interrupted by a sudden weight rebounding from his back.

The male's weight jerked in surprise, twisting on the heel, blue irises knotting to the collapsed form on the terrain. There wasn't time to consider what he was saying before sharp words shot from his mouth, gaze narrow. "Watch where the fuck you're going!" Dumb bitch. Oh wait, was he not supposed to act gentlemanly? Right, shit. "I mean, uh, apologies, ma'am. Are you alright?" His weight crouched beside the feminine, still clutching the odd critter with his other arm, one hand extending to gently touch the woman's shoulder. "You're not hurt too badly?" His irises knotted down towards the furred critter, tilting his head once again. "This little... Uh... Creature would belong to you, would it?"

W O R D S
God knows.

T A G
@mickey played by CHESHIRE COTTON.

N O T E S
PSHHHH Mene doesn't even know what a rabbit is dafaq xD

M U S E
Neptune, Light

Pale irises surveyed the unknown, squeaking critter within his hands, a look of confusion passing over his features promptly as it tilted its oddly shaped head. Who ever knew that stray cats could cough up living furballs? He snorted lightly at the thought, though promptly returned his attention to the creature, still trying to figure out exactly what it was. What was that one holiday that one of these things supposedly carried out? Eastop? Probably Eastop. Something like that, anyway. His family had never celebrated it, but then, they didn't celebrate many of the common holidays that most commoners did. However, childhood memories were like airplane luggage for most, for no matter how far you were travelling, or how long you needed them to last, you were only ever allowed two bags. And while said bags might have held a few hazed recollections; a diner with a jukebox at the table, being pushed on a swing set, the feeling of the first day of school... It never seemed enough to last a lifetime.

A smirk of amusement passed over his features at the woman's angered response, his own brief infuriation. Women with fire in them always made for entertaining test subjects; he didn't choose to grace the woman with a response, merely focused on regaining his somewhat gentlemanly feigned demeanour.  Gaze cascading down towards the woman, observing her, his gaze was purely more inquisitive than anything at the prospect of her fall. Whatever his words might have been, in this case a gentle questioning, there was no ounce of concern in his body to be portrayed. He long pushed out any sympathy he had for the world. Her gaze shoved up towards him, her facials twisting in his direction; truth be told, he was apparently lost for breath for a good few seconds, swallowing hard. Did everyone in this damn fucking town look like his sister? Every woman, there was some aspect, some feature - why? Coincidence was a concept he did not entirely trust. As someone who had spent his life exploring the hidden interconnectivity of disparate emblems and ideologies, he viewed the world as a web of profoundly intertwined histories and events. The connections may have been invisible for the most part, but they were always there, buried just beneath the surface. But even so, it was hard to believe it was anything more than coincidence. There was no god above, not in his eyes, for he was not one of religious belief. Were there any believable influences in the world that could amount to such a thing outside coincidence? Maybe it was all just a grain in the hourglass when it came down to it, but each face, he searched for signs of her, as if by instinct. Why? He was fairly unsure himself.

The deepened sigh of the feminine brought his attention snapping back to the present, his gaze swiftly fixating upon her own teal irises. "Good. That was... Quite the tumble there." His head tipped on one side, providing the woman a brief grin, though unable to prevent his gaze from wandering to the rest of her frame, surveying for potential injury. The resemblance with his sister was partially to blame for that fact; it sparked a faint overprotectiveness within him, as per norm. He was cursed with the fact that half the people he had met so far looked like her. Releasing a grunt of acknowledgement at her confirmation, his gaze cast towards the forgotten fluffy critter, attention returning to it. Gaining a confused look as the feminine extended her hands and took the critter, he attempted to echo the little thing's dubbing, and, well, failed miserably. "Boo-ney?" He snorted lightly at how strange it sounded, gaze falling towards this so called 'booney'. Sounded familiar, but not quite right. Ah well. "Does your booney have a name?"

Her thanking drew a subtle nod from the man, his gaze still set rather intently on her strange pet, though it shifted to the woman as she arose, setting promptly on her facials. Mickey. Sounded like some sort of cartoon character... Wasn't there that mickey moose or whatever? He waited a good few seconds before responding to her, curiously contemplating what exactly he should say. The streets were too open for his liking, and he'd be damned if he went through the intricate process of luring her into the woods. He had no patience for that, not tonight. "Menelaus. But really, just call me whatever you want. Most never use my full name," he shrugged dismissively, never having been too keen on the formalities of introductions. In fact, many people never get to hear my name. "... You shouldn't be wandering out here this late at night, even if your... Booney... Got out. You never know what kinds of humans will be hobbling 'round."

W O R D S
God knows.

T A G
@mickey played by CHESHIRE COTTON.

N O T E S
Omf. Booney. Eastop. Mickey Moose. YOU NEED A CHILDHOOD MENE GAWD

M U S E
Neptune, Light