Anti-OTP!

[pretty_sweeting]

Typist: To make this less of a mess, this post shall be for all Olivia's anti-OTP's. (Except for the Illyrian anti-OTPlay4.) So, Horatio, Orsino, Sebastian, Helena, Roxane, and Cyrano, have at 'er!

*lounges around in the garden, probably thinking about her rather insane love life, because really, what else does she think about?*

Comments

[thefoodoflove]

Nothing, methinks, is so fair as a lady beflowered and in love-- but ay, surely all women are in love, for it is their way, and have they little more to hang upon their bough. *bows* Good eve, Countess.

[pretty_sweeting]

*startled* O! A good eve to you as well, my lord. *curtsies*

[thefoodoflove]

For your thoughts, my lady. *offers her an iris, striking and blue*

[pretty_sweeting]

*blushes - oh, Orsino, you so don't want to know* *but oo, pretty flower! and is a sucker for pretty things, obviously* Methinks my thoughts would interest you not, my lord. They are but foolish things.

[maid_and_a_man]

*ignore the snerking typist, plz*

*beams nervously* My Lady!

[pretty_sweeting]

*beams back, warmly* Friend Sebastian! I am glad of thy return.

[maid_and_a_man]

I to see thee! *offers to hug*

[pretty_sweeting]

*hugs!* Hast thou been well?

[truant_horatio]

*comes upon her by mistake, because he shouldn't be here, probably, but he's finally decided to counter depression by going outside, omg--at any rate. makes a small, respectful bow, rather apologetically* Lady.

[pretty_sweeting]

*raises her eyebrows, then nods* Sir.

[truant_horatio]

*softly* Forgive my disturbance.

[pretty_sweeting]

*typist gets out the clue-by-four* 'Tis no disturbance, I was but startled. *curtsies politely* My name is Olivia, sir, and your own?

[fairestlily]

typist: Wow, that countess sure has lined up her dates. XD

Roxane, a small book of poetry (romantic, no doubt) in hand, has been searching the ubiquitous Mansion for somewhere quiet and relatively free of crazy angstmongers. The garden is as good a place as any, it seems - she comes round the bend of the little path, wide elegant sleeves brushing against the closing tree branches, towards the bench Olivia can be found at.

[pretty_sweeting]

Typist: Well, that's Olivia for ya! *shakes her head*

*"relatively free of crazy angstmongers" ahahahahaha*

*hears the swishing of fabric and looks up* Good day, lady.

[fairestlily]

...relatively is a - er - relative term.

*smiles brightly, though she wasn't aware of Olivia's presence when she chose this path* Good day! And 'tis an especially lovely one, n'est-ce pas? The sun is so radiant this morning, one might almost think he had fallen in love with the moon's pale face, to beam so brightly, so soon after dawn.

[pretty_sweeting]

*enchanted - poetry/pretty = Olivia's OTP, yep* *smiles back* Why, 'tis indeed! The sun is kind to share his joy with us.

[asfairasshe]

*is wandering, thinking of her rather insane lack of love life (woe!), and suddenly gives a dramatic sigh, and waits (surely if she looks forlorn enough, someone will want to know what is wrong)*

[pretty_sweeting]

From whither doth such sorrow spring? *finds the source of the sound* Ah, fair... Helena, was't?

[asfairasshe]

Helena, ay, though mayhap not so fair.

[pretty_sweeting]

Ay, fair, for an inward woe may not mask an outward beauty.