forum Tied by a String (Private RP with Thighhigh)(Stalkers welcome)

Started May 16, 2019 by Deleted user

tune

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@thighighcrocs-got-the-horses-in-the-back

HELLO

Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Do you wanna just hop in?

Works for me!

(Dope)

"So your saying," Klaus said from where he laid on the couch, "That people would want to buy a shirt with the word 'Amity' on it in a fancy font?"
It was yet another one of their little play arguments about the merch Peggy was making for him. But, for once, they were back in his little apartment, which consisted of a mini fridge, a black fold-out couch that was currently folded up, and a singe Queen sized bed. He was dressed in a simple pair of black basketball shorts and a white T, the type of thing you can wear damn near anywhere and never be out of place.

"Yes!" Peggy insisted, for what seemed like the millionth time. She was very dead set on the merch, despite the numerous 'arguments' about it. "People love heroes, and they love merch! Put the two together, and you've got an instant market. Plus, it's a cool thing to put on a shirt. You need, like, a logo or something."

"Logos are for nerds, and so are T-Shirts with my name on it," he said, crossing his arms over his chest in defiance. "It just seems pointless. Barely anyone knows who I am, too. I did one thing, and that was collapse part of a building. Doesn't sound very heroic."

"You just gotta keep pushin' on, man." She said, shaking her head as she shifted where she was sitting, leaning against the wall, to sit upside down with her legs against the wall. Her jacket she'd recently bought, which admittedly was specifically altered to look somewhat like her suit, was laying in a heap next to her. "Soon enough, you're gonna be huge. You're just in the early stages."

He nudged her with his left foot, putting his arms behind his head to make himself more comfortable. "Easy for tou to say, Ms. Stark. You had a jumpstart to this shit. I started in a sewer and had to climb my way out."

"Yeah, meaning you got all that gritty backstory stuff the media loves." She said, gesturing widely with her hands as she nudged him back. "I was born in. Not exactly media fodder." That wasn't counting the whole reason she ended up with the reactor in her chest, but the media didn't know anything about that, and she intended to keep it that way.

"Everything's media fodder when your dad's Tony motherfucking Stark," he said, sticking his tongue out at her. "I'm the opposite. I get a bad rep 'cause of where I came from. People are already betting on me becoming a mass murderer."

"Keeps 'em on their toes." She said, waving him off. "And that's just dad for you. Y'know, I could sit here and counter-argue your negative Nancy tendencies all day, or we could do something fun."

His ears seemed to perk up at the idea as he sat up half-way and propped himself up on an elbow. "Oh? And what idea do you have, hm?"

(What stage should their relationship be at?)

((Hmm….maybe they've both sorta started to realize their feelings, but nobody's made a move yet?))

"I want so badly to suggest tagging shit, but you're trying to be seen in a positive light, so…." She furrowed her brows in thought, before letting her legs fall forward to flip herself into a standing position. "I've got it."

(Sounds good to me)

"Do you now?" he asked with a raised eyebrow as he watched her stand. "What is the idea?"

"There's this street fair thing happening not too far from here." She said, looking at him expectantly. "So get off your ass, and come have fun with me."

"So demanding," he mumbled, although his was grinning as he sat up and rubbed the top of his head. "Think you can help me to my feet?"

"Fine, fine." She dramatically huffed, but grinned as she held out a hand to pull him up. "On a scale from one to ten, how into cotton candy are you?"

He grabbed onto her hand and heaved like he weighed a ton, nearly pulling her down as he got to his feet.. "Is 26 a valid answer, or no?"

"Absolutely!" Peggy pumped her fist in the air, with the hand still holding his. She seemed fairly unconcerned about almost being tugged onto the couch. "Blue or pink? Or both!"

"The flavor isn't different," he pointed out, poking her with his free hand. "It's just food coloring."

"It's the principal of the thing, you stick in the mud." She said, wrinkling her nose at him. "Now c'mon!" She released his hand to grab her jacket, sliding it on and patting her pockets.

He padded his way over to the bed and slipped on a pair of sneakers, not even bothering to put on a pair of socks. "I still don't know why you wore a jacket. It's a good 80 degrees outside."

"Aesthetic. There's your next hero tip." She said, turning her nose up playfully as she found her phone. "You need a thing."