The Unlovables

[insertusername]

The Unlovables

Everyone loves a hero. As long as they're youthful, hot, charming and conventionally attractive. Meanwhile, all the old, ugly, broke down, difficult-to-love, bastards out there are toiling away in lonesome obscurity trying not to daydream too much about what a relief it would be if someone came along with a soft touch, and a kind word, and the promise that it'll be ok.

Whether canon or fandom branded them as such, whether it's well deserved or not, there's lots of unlovables. They know most beasts never transform for their beauties. They've probably noticed that even in the Disney version Quasimodo ends up alone ffs. Still, props to them for maintaining a shred of optimism about finding love. Even if they'll never admit to being hopeful.

So if you spent prom on the bleachers. If you max-out at a 5 (maybe 6 generously). If you've got a history of first dates and very few seconds; If you can guarantee you'll get the seat to yourself on the train. Chin up, champ. This one's for you

how to play:

Top level with your unlovable characters; State any prefs like gen, shippy or nsfw. Link your permissions pgs. Tell us a bit about what makes your muse a tough sell.

Comment to comfort someone the world finds difficult to love and be the real heroes in this meme.

Comments

[awarriorsheart]

He would be surprised. Well, actually so would she; she's being rather touchy-feely, isn't she? And though she would like to blame the alcohol, all it has done is leave her more uninhibited.

That leads way to some dangerous thoughts.

"I'm not used to touching someone this much. 'S just you..." She glances down at her hands on her lap, thinking, then finally shakes her head. "Oh, never mind. You'd think I'm being quite silly. More beer?"

[wolfdogwitcher]

"I'm down for more beer, but that's the second thought you've started and cut off in as many minutes." He says, and his lopsided expression is one of concern. "Maybe we shouldn't drink too much more. It might be a bad idea."

[awarriorsheart]

"My mind was wandering down slippery slopes. You wouldn't want to know." She holds up her mug and wiggles it a little, playfully, as if that would ease his concern. "I'm good for a couple more at most, don't worry."

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Maybe two more." He rumbles, his eyes starting to burn like dying coals in the dark as his eyelids droop. "But then you probably ought to stop." As if he's not starting to get a little buzz going.

[awarriorsheart]

"I'll stop when I'm dead," she responds half-heartedly, but the small wave of her hand signifies that's more an exaggeration than anything else. She dangles her mug in his direction, as if waiting for a refill. "One more, then you can decide for youself whether that's enough, yeah?

"And have you considered my offer? No need to rent a room at this hour. Stay here; I'm not a kat-kata..." She frowns, trying to get the word to roll out of her tongue but it sounds strange at first, as if she's going to mispronounce it. "Katakan. Or any sort'a vampire. So you needn't worry about any bloodsuckers in here, for one."

[wolfdogwitcher]

"I can, but I'll sleep right here." He says, indicating his chair. "Not about to keep a lady from the bed she's paid for." No matter how desperately he'd like to sink into a soft mattress right now.

[awarriorsheart]

"You're too stubborn and I'm no lady." She shakes her head, unsure whether to laugh or to sigh. He is absolutely unbelievable - or so she'd like to say, but it comes off a little like a slurred complaint. "In that case, I'll be sleeping right here," she indicates towards her own chair. Considering how much they've been drinking, she doesn't trust her legs not to wobble too much, anyway.

[wolfdogwitcher]

Stubborn could almost certainly be added to his list of undesirable attributes. He frowns at her, which his scars turn into a snarl on the side that doesn't move much.

"Don't be ridiculous. It's your bed, you should sleep there."

[awarriorsheart]

Stubbornness doesn't necessarily have to be a bad thing - it's just a little vexing for her now when all she wants is for him to be a little less tense. Then again, her peskiness can be considered just as troublesome.

She frowns in return, huffing. "Well I don't want to. You need it more than I do. That's not debatable."

[wolfdogwitcher]

"You'll fall asleep long before I do." He points out, draining his mug. "I can just carry you to your bed and that would settle it."

[awarriorsheart]

"You wouldn't dare," he probably would and she knows it. She sets her mug down, only still about halfway through it this time. Yeah, she's nearing her limit before slipping into sloshed territory. "'Sides, it's a matter of hospitality. Would it hurt you to get some proper rest?"

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Sure, but I'm used to sleeping rough. A night in a chair isn't so bad. At least I'm indoors." He stretches out his long legs and crosses his arms over his broad chest, as if determined to settle in.

[awarriorsheart]

"If you're used to it, then try something new for once. Something different." She sort of touches one of his feet with her own, playfully, before resting one of her legs diagonally atop of his own. Never mind that she has to scoot her seat a little closer, or lean back a bit to do so, or even that she's got an unfairly good view of him now. "Else we're both going to wake up with stiff necks. I'm trying to spare you that much."

[wolfdogwitcher]

Were he a different man-- Geralt, for instance-- he might have made more of the way she laid a leg over his. But because he's a man who has made his peace with the last 40 years of assuming the only thing that might warm a woman to his presence would be Novigradian crowns, he puts any notion that this is some odd sort of flirtation.

"Afraid my manners just won't let me, lady."

[awarriorsheart]

Had he not made his peace with that - and were she a little less of an absolute oaf about displaying her interest in him, this might be a little less strange for the both of them. Might be being the key term anyway.

"I ain't no lady," she grumbled again, but there's really no displeasure to it. "And I'm as stubborn as you. I'll even share if it means you'll get some damned rest."

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Share what? The bed? You don't wanna do that." He snorts, turning to get a look at the much contested piece of furniture. "No way there's enough space." And while he had a cursory splash to get most of the mud and sweat and horse-smell off him, he's pretty sure now he smells like beer and exhaustion.

[awarriorsheart]

She looks across the room at the aforementioned piece of furniture, tilting her head to get a slightly better view and shrugs. "Don't knock it until you try it; I see plenty of space."

She nudges his leg somewhat. "You're just makin' up excuses at this point."

[wolfdogwitcher]

He sinks back in his chair and fills his mug one more time with the last of the ale. If he intends to drink more, he'll have to haul himself over to his bags for whiskey.

"Maybe." He rumbles, tipping his head back lazily so that all the gets is the line of his torso, all dark hair and carved muscle (except for a little padding around the hips) and scarred skin.

"he's a 1 but he teases like a 10"

[awarriorsheart]

She's still got her half a mug of ale left, but frankly wouldn't even protest if he drank it at this point. Her eyes are drawn to his figure, her gaze roaming over each line and crevice as they're illuminated by the candlelight.

Oh, no, no, her mind is wandering again.

"You're going to be the death of me," she groans, rubbing her face. "What's keepin' you? Besides your manners - which you've got too many of by the by."

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Why's it gotta be anything except good manners? I wasn't literally raised by wolves, you know. Just because I look like one." He says, cracking one glowing yellow eye to look at her. "My old man raised us to be respectful. Probably to make up for everything else."

[awarriorsheart]

"Yours is a good old man," she nods and though she was trying her damnedest to not look, she's only human and her gaze is drawn to him again. She forgets he can probably see her better than she can see him. "Raised you good, from what you're tellin' me. But that's not- I mean it's not really the point. I've offered a compromise."

She pauses, hitches in a breath, then suddenly tips her head back and downs the rest of her drink in an obvious effort to not look at him.

"You're not scared of somethin', are you?"

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Scared?" He snorts, confused. "I spent four hours last week being hunted in the woods by an especially cunning werewolf. I'm not scared of a bard. Part-time huntress or not."

He's quiet for a moment before something else occurs to him.

"And even at my drunkest, you wouldn't have to worry about me. That way, I mean."

[awarriorsheart]

At his latest observation, Brynn coughs up the last of her drink but quickly regains her composure, slamming the mug down on the table and leaning forward on her seat for support. Her leg slides down from atop of his, but still rests snug at his side and she's staring at him intently.

"What makes you think I'm worried?" She arches an eyebrow, bemused.

[wolfdogwitcher]

"Nothing. Just...bears mentioning is all." He says, face burning. "You barely know me." And yet here he is half naked and drunk anyway.

[awarriorsheart]

"Well, am I not getting to know you better?" She offers, nudging his foot with her own. Her own face is a little on the red-tinted side and she sort-of hesitates before adding. "You're beginning to leave a little less to the imagination. Or- or more, you know. For a bard."