[OPEN] I don't like to think ahead

[frontlinetitties]

Who: Gideon and YOU!
When: April
Where: Cadens & Horizon
What: Post-event catch-all for April!
Warnings: TBD, I'll update as needed, but probably some trauma related to recent in-game events







((OOC: both closed starters and some open prompts will go below! Hit me up at brightflowers or PM if you want me to write you a starter, or feel free to tag into an open prompt/wildcard me! I'm good with brackets or prose so pick your poison and I'll follow your lead!))

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[frontlinetitties]

There's the sound of a muffled curse and distinctly suspicious shuffling from the other side of the door. Moments later it swings inward to reveal a tall and muscular girl, her stance artfully sleepy and languid. She isn't a terrible actress, and from her form and mussed shock of hair alone it'd be easy to believe she'd just climbed out of bed. Behind her, the sheets are even in disarray, for effect. Only the slight flush to her skin and the hint of sweat beading on her forehead give the game away; she'd been in the middle of a set of push-ups before the knock had interrupted her.

She eyes the woman now standing in her doorway up and down, notices the distinct lack of a staff uniform. Sweet. Chances of being gently scolded and pushed toward her bed by a volunteer seem slim. At least, less likely than if she were facing one of the orderlies. She cocks her head to the side, just slightly. Her guest isn’t someone she recognises.

"Yeah, I'm Gideon," she says, her aureate gaze dropping to her visitor’s hands, half-expectant, "what have you got for me? Not gonna lie, I'm kiiinda hoping it's cake."

[sereneadherent]

Marianne notices the flush and the touch of persperation, and for a few brief moments she worries that Gideon might be feverish. But her demeanor otherwise seems bright and aware instead of feverish (if maybe a bit groggy) so she wonders instead what the cause might be. Exercise, maybe? Is that okay for her to be doing?

Ultimately, it's not her business. She's not the one treating Gideon's injuries, and it would be beyond presumptuous to lecture her.

She can't help but feel like she's being sized up for something, and she shifts her weight uncomfortably under Gideon's gaze. "I'm sorry, it's not cake. It's a Leosylph. To help you relax after... um, everything."

As if to announce its presence, the Leosylph mewls in Marianne's arms.