Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-27062997-20151218162344/@comment-11163511-20151219015707

((I'll do it))

Bane honestly had no interest in this lovey dovey business, but for whatever reason the school's infamous matchmaker forced him to. Did she really think love could help him with his woes? Love was the darn thing that caused the whole ruckus in his life! Or was that revenge on not cooperating on a session where he violently shredded the mood rose Cupid gave him as to check his mood, being rare roses after all? Whatever the case, Bane's not happy with it, for this situtation she put him in was the one thing he had been avoiding for the longest time: a date. The only positive reason he could think of to motivate himself to do this was to use it by means to somewhat lower his notoriety, for he wanted to be hated but not have grudges held against him. Bane was only intending to be moderate nice, just so that he could leave in peace when it's over.

Upon reaching their destination, he was terrified. Bane reluctantly moved over to a seat and started unpacking his picnic stuff on the table: first a floral blanket, then a full flask of freshly brewed tea with two tea cups and a pouch full of scones. His eyes open wide to survey the area, this place reminded him too much of that grimm moment where his mother died and also the same moment he's meant to replicate.

"By the banks of the roses, my love and I sat down..."Bane whispered as qietly as a mouse as he gazed upon the lake.

"And he took out his tuning box to play his love a tune..." He stared at his little old walkman in his pocket and the headphones that came with it. They could share, right?

"For he took her to his lodge and he treated her to tea. Saying "Drink my dearest Mary and come along with me..." He lifted his head up to the ceiling and stared into the seemingly infinite sky that is the mural on the gazebo ceiling then down onto his tea set.

'''"this is gonna be wan 'eck av a long day. jist beggin' dis isn't 'er last mayle. but dis isn't de banks av red roses, at laest dat oi cud trust." He sighed while pouring out a cup for himself as he waited for his date, his left hand on his head pulling down his blade from his hair. "Yer better not chucker anythin' dense, yer bleedin wee cutty knife." before twisting his hair up and slipping it on again.'''