[ Zechs isn’t exactly asking to be pulled from the ocean - spluttering and looking rather like a drowned rat with his sopping wet hair and soaked, torn uniform. ]
[ Through the various gashes and tears in his clothes, barely more than rags, his rescuer might be able to glimpse some fantastically horrific burn scars, a year old now, and perhaps more stunning for being so extensive even still after that time. ]
[ He’s rather hoping you don’t notice them, however. It seems whatever kind of uniform this was had long sleeves, at least, and might have been well-tailored to fit him had it not been reduced to rags. ]
[ Once on the deck of the ship, he’d cough out more water before hoarsely saying; ]
You have my thanks.
[ … Where was he? ]
II. INITIATION
[ Ahoy, Corsairs. Were you looking for a rather stuck-up looking Paladin to prank? ]
[ In a restored blue-and-silver uniform, Zechs felt deeply uncomfortable wearing someone else’s colors, and was trying not to let on. With all of the ghostly decorations and festivities, it only leant him additional fantasies that he’s invoking his dead friend’s ghost, somehow. His deep discomfort combined with his sense of awkwardness - he’s never participated in any of these kinds of games or festivities, even as a child - meant that Zechs was 110% wearing a resting bitch face, unintentionally sneering at everything. ]
[ Honestly, it looked like he deserved some solid pranking. ]
III. FAMILIAR
[ It was time for the masquerade. The choice of an odd, silver-white helmetish mask might seem strange to most people. It only made Zechs smirk, wry and unamused, when it’s forced on his head. If the theme was ghosts, then, well. He might as well impersonate a dead man, a man he no longer was. ]
[ He might be blinded and forced to dance, and regardless of the gender of said partner (or lack thereof), he’ll be a little stiff at first. Polite, formal, he’d say; ] You have my apologies. It seems this place is rather fond of removing all choice from us.
[ Or Zechs might be pushed into some wine once he’s trying to escape the party via the gardens outside. Please, help him out of the fountain, if you would? Spluttering afterward, he’ll note; ] I think I’ve had far worse. Perhaps this might be served in glasses instead.
IV. COMFORTABLE AT LAST
[ Finally, he’s in his element. Well. Fine. He’s never fought giant skeletons, tried to disarm pumpkin bombs, or free people from supernatural traps before. But let’s just say that Zechs was very adaptable, and few things outside of himself scared him. ]
[ In fact, if someone else should need a hand when trapped, whether paladin or corsair, Zechs would be at the ready, lightning-quick, with a snatched sword to slice them free from their bonds. His reflexes are rather absurdly good, so he’d be quick to dispatch the bombs thrown on board the ship - perhaps just barely sparing someone from being covered in chunks of pumpkin. And certainly he’d work in tandem with another to take down one of the huge, shambling skeletons. ]
The joint in the heel! Slice through that, and it’ll fall!
Zechs Merquise | Gundam Wing | Paladin | TDM
[ Zechs isn’t exactly asking to be pulled from the ocean - spluttering and looking rather like a drowned rat with his sopping wet hair and soaked, torn uniform. ]
[ Through the various gashes and tears in his clothes, barely more than rags, his rescuer might be able to glimpse some fantastically horrific burn scars, a year old now, and perhaps more stunning for being so extensive even still after that time. ]
[ He’s rather hoping you don’t notice them, however. It seems whatever kind of uniform this was had long sleeves, at least, and might have been well-tailored to fit him had it not been reduced to rags. ]
[ Once on the deck of the ship, he’d cough out more water before hoarsely saying; ]
You have my thanks.
[ … Where was he? ]
II. INITIATION
[ Ahoy, Corsairs. Were you looking for a rather stuck-up looking Paladin to prank? ]
[ In a restored blue-and-silver uniform, Zechs felt deeply uncomfortable wearing someone else’s colors, and was trying not to let on. With all of the ghostly decorations and festivities, it only leant him additional fantasies that he’s invoking his dead friend’s ghost, somehow. His deep discomfort combined with his sense of awkwardness - he’s never participated in any of these kinds of games or festivities, even as a child - meant that Zechs was 110% wearing a resting bitch face, unintentionally sneering at everything. ]
[ Honestly, it looked like he deserved some solid pranking. ]
III. FAMILIAR
[ It was time for the masquerade. The choice of an odd, silver-white helmetish mask might seem strange to most people. It only made Zechs smirk, wry and unamused, when it’s forced on his head. If the theme was ghosts, then, well. He might as well impersonate a dead man, a man he no longer was. ]
[ He might be blinded and forced to dance, and regardless of the gender of said partner (or lack thereof), he’ll be a little stiff at first. Polite, formal, he’d say; ] You have my apologies. It seems this place is rather fond of removing all choice from us.
[ Or Zechs might be pushed into some wine once he’s trying to escape the party via the gardens outside. Please, help him out of the fountain, if you would? Spluttering afterward, he’ll note; ] I think I’ve had far worse. Perhaps this might be served in glasses instead.
IV. COMFORTABLE AT LAST
[ Finally, he’s in his element. Well. Fine. He’s never fought giant skeletons, tried to disarm pumpkin bombs, or free people from supernatural traps before. But let’s just say that Zechs was very adaptable, and few things outside of himself scared him. ]
[ In fact, if someone else should need a hand when trapped, whether paladin or corsair, Zechs would be at the ready, lightning-quick, with a snatched sword to slice them free from their bonds. His reflexes are rather absurdly good, so he’d be quick to dispatch the bombs thrown on board the ship - perhaps just barely sparing someone from being covered in chunks of pumpkin. And certainly he’d work in tandem with another to take down one of the huge, shambling skeletons. ]
The joint in the heel! Slice through that, and it’ll fall!