[florals? for spring. groundbreaking.]

[majorlyugh]

WHO: Major Lilywhite
WHERE: Around the village
WHEN: First week of September, any time
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: N/A, will update as needed

---

The hunger started growing inside of Major almost as soon as he set foot back into the village. He knew it was beginning to bubble inside of him when he'd had a bite of a peach at the Inn and the thing tasted half like ash, half like fruit. While his amnesia took its time wearing off, he'd spent time in the woods, attempting to catch squirrels and woodland creatures to try and get some of their brains - just enough to satiate him until he could find a more permanent and more appetite-suppressing solution.

Luckily, he'd recovered all his memories and run into Liv and Ravi, both of whom were sharing the same cabin. He'd been told that they'd been gifted brains by the Gift Gods, which was nothing short of a miracle, considering all of them needed to get their cranial munch on with some regularity.

Ravi told him that they were still mapping out the personality traits of each brain, so Major chose one at random and decided to cut himself off a hefty chunk. He didn't need the whole thing, and he didn't need it every week the way Liv did, but he still needed enough to make the cravings and the hunger stop.

It wasn't soon before long that the personality of whomever once used that brain started emerging.

Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on perspective, it happened to be the brain of a young fashionista. It also happened that this particular fashionista hated everything clothing-related in the village.

When he goes around the village for this particular week, he can be seen wearing:

a blazer repurposed from his bright, raspberry-colored scrubs with no shirt underneath because ugh shirts, the collar of which has been adorned with various feathers he's found around the village (some might've been forcefully stolen off of a few unfortunate birds);
his usual jeans that he's tailored and tapered to fit more tightly (though nothing as abhorrent as a skinny jean);
perfectly "messy" (read: toussled just so) hair with a Zoolander Blue Steel pout to match;
his usual shoes;
and a rotating crown made of interwoven twigs, sometimes with flowers, other times not because nature. It really matches the ~aesthetic~ of the village and ties the whole thing together.

If he catches you eyeing his new threads, he might give you a judgmental sneer and a click of his tongue to his teeth, insisting that he was trying to go for something reminiscent of Gaultier Fall 2011, but ugh, it's impossible to make anything remotely decent of a runway in this place, what with the minimal fabrics and access to electric sewing machines.

But lord help you if you call the color red "blood orange." He might just verbally eviscerate you for that.

It's fucking red.

Comments

[oorah]

"Uh," is all he manages at first, accompanied by a slow blink. If he knew the man's internal commentary, he would agree that Aurora is a classic. As it is, he's wary of someone who appears scared of dogs at first, but then the man is looking around and so does Frank. "Guy named Kira. Why?"

He goes a little cross-eyed as he looks back at Major, the five other dogs huddled around his legs now. "I walk her sometimes." Read: every day. He'd die for her. "Don't let her fool you, she's a real sweetheart."

[majorlyugh]

"Kira. Ohmygod, Kira! I remember him. Haven't seen him again since I've reappeared and all that, but I remember him. Those cheekbones! He could do runways in Milan, Paris, the whole circuit if he wanted," Major says, suddenly growing introspective as though he's debating whether or not he could convince Kira to do modelling. He mulls it over with himself for a moment or two before remembering that he's talking to someone else. Someone he doesn't recognize.

He considers the dog again. He's still not bending down and fawning over it the way Normal Major would, but he looks .. pleased? Maybe?

"Such a sleek little thing. Reminds me of that classic Chanel bag, you know? The classic classic, not that .. colorful garbage they're churning out these days."

[oorah]

"Uh- yep, that's him." Wow, this guy is something else, huh? Frank looks over Aurora, he thinks he understands what Major means... except he's never seen a Chanel bag before (you know, unless it was a fake in Chinatown.) But the sentiment sort of tracks. "I'm just gonna take your word for it, pal."

[majorlyugh]

Major can sense that twinge of judgment in the man's voice, and it makes his expression fall to something more sour. These uncultured swine! Who didn't know what a classic Chanel bag looks like? Who could be that deep under a friggin' rock to not at least be somewhat familiar with them?

He looks back to the dog, bending over just enough to give the dog a couple of open-palmed, apprehensive pats on the head. It's more with his fingertips than with the rest of his hand, like he's afraid he'll catch something if he makes too much contact with the creature.

"I don't believe we've met before," Major says, still looking at the dog. He lets that linger in the air for a second or two before slowly sweeping his gaze up to the man. He adjusts the makeshift coat he's created for himself, blowing air out of the side of his mouth to keep a feather from bothering him. "I'm Major. Major Lilywhite. And before you ask," he starts, eyes rolling pre-emptively, "Yes, that is my first name, and no, it's not a rank."

[oorah]

Aurora rubs her head against his hand the second it's offered, grinning broadly, and Frank spares the dog a fond look before focusing on Major again.

"I wasn't gonna ask," he assures with a little nod, trying to come across as anything but judgmental. If the guy will barely touch the dog, he's betting on him not being the handshaking type and shoves his own hands deeper in hoodie pockets. "Frank." Not Lieutenant, not Mayor. This guy isn't the only one trying to shed his labels.

[majorlyugh]

"You'd be the first not to," Major comments with a resigned sort of air about him. "Usually the questions are that, followed by, is that really your name? And then, what was wrong with your parents? And isn't that a question I ask myself every day." His tone indicates like their commiserating over something shared, but that's a wild assumption on Major's part. Truth be told, his history with his parents had been complicated, but his name was something he'd learned to get over. At least once he was out of high school. Those years had been tougher.

Major glances down to the man's hands as he shoves them into his pockets. Normal Major would be the first to extend a hand for a friendly greeting, but this Major is pleased that the man's already seemed to figure it all out.

When blowing air on the feather doesn't seem to help, he reaches up to tame it down as though petting the head of an evil cat a la Dr. Evil.

"Frank." Solid name, albeit a tad .. blasé. "How long've you been here, Frank?"

[oorah]

"91 days," he replies without missing a beat, gaze sliding over the other man's face again. He really is something else. There once was a time he would've been too observant to miss someone like this around the Village. He's become complacent, he supposes. "You?"

[majorlyugh]

"Just long enough to know how fucked up this place is, amirite?" Major asks, leaning in conspiratorially before standing normally again. Err, well, as normal as he can while on this brain and caught in the tangled web of its personality traits. "Me?" He heaves a heavy sigh. "I dunno, six months? Seven months? Something like that. Hard to keep accurate track when we don't have any Rose Gold iPhones to help. Then I left for a while. I was out on some .. mission thingy." He waves a dismissive hand. "Came back sometime after that. According to my friends, it was something like two or three months. I think it's been about a month since I've been back for the second time."