05-07-2018, 01:32 AM
[align=center][div style="max-width: 600px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt;"]"That doesn't really sound like a compliment."
Honestly, Melantha should not even be talking. Compliments are something that nice people give out to others. And if they aren't exactly nice people, they're people who know how to properly interact with others. Melantha is neither of those options. She is cold, and blunt, and socially inept. But the girl can't resist giving guy who thing they're "all that" a hard time. Jerseyboy is one of those guys. "You're a fantastic singer," Mel says to London after giving the tuxedo tomcat a sidelong glare--she still isn't fond of him. Believe it or not, the young huntress resisted the urge to puke and successfully delivered a nice compliment! She's proud of herself. That's about the only nice thing she'll say to anyone for the next week or so. There is only so much capacity for kindness within her. It's a shame she wasted her quota on trying to one-up Jerseyboy. Oh well.
The mountain lioness does not sit, opting to remain standing. She feels restless today, as if she is buzzing with energy. It could be all the anxiety and sadness she's been ignoring for the past couple of weeks, but she plans on continuing to ignore it until later notice. Until then, she is Little Miss Fidget. Melantha really does not like small talk, but she likes Jersey even less, so she forces herself to make conversation with London. She is envious of the snow leopard's virtues. London is so pretty and graceful and kind and likable and all the wonderful things that Melantha is not and never will be. but she also quite enjoys being in the other's company. Life is so complicated. "What song were you singing?" queries the lionheart, doing her best to put on an interested expression. Thankfully, it's not too hard of an emotion to express.
Honestly, Melantha should not even be talking. Compliments are something that nice people give out to others. And if they aren't exactly nice people, they're people who know how to properly interact with others. Melantha is neither of those options. She is cold, and blunt, and socially inept. But the girl can't resist giving guy who thing they're "all that" a hard time. Jerseyboy is one of those guys. "You're a fantastic singer," Mel says to London after giving the tuxedo tomcat a sidelong glare--she still isn't fond of him. Believe it or not, the young huntress resisted the urge to puke and successfully delivered a nice compliment! She's proud of herself. That's about the only nice thing she'll say to anyone for the next week or so. There is only so much capacity for kindness within her. It's a shame she wasted her quota on trying to one-up Jerseyboy. Oh well.
The mountain lioness does not sit, opting to remain standing. She feels restless today, as if she is buzzing with energy. It could be all the anxiety and sadness she's been ignoring for the past couple of weeks, but she plans on continuing to ignore it until later notice. Until then, she is Little Miss Fidget. Melantha really does not like small talk, but she likes Jersey even less, so she forces herself to make conversation with London. She is envious of the snow leopard's virtues. London is so pretty and graceful and kind and likable and all the wonderful things that Melantha is not and never will be. but she also quite enjoys being in the other's company. Life is so complicated. "What song were you singing?" queries the lionheart, doing her best to put on an interested expression. Thankfully, it's not too hard of an emotion to express.