“The knight of the hour.” m/w with: @WinchGuy_ PFP by: @SoupOden might be ooc sometimes mun: @uebergooner
✿ ﹒ HE - HIM FOR MUN && MUSE
Joined January 2026
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send me letters, and I'll send some back. if you don't mind dirt and charcoal on it, that is
jacobleu.straw.page
> The thud on the door makes Jacob flinch. ....Maybe he shouldn't have said those things. Even if he didn't know this man very well, he felt as if the way he was acting right now was.... Unlike him. Or at least, didn't reach his expectations for what he was like in his head.
> While Jacob did appreciate a joke once in a while.. not right now, he certainly didn't.
By the sound of it, I assume somebody put something suspicious in your drink?
> He sighs, shaking his head slightly.
I.. didn't expect that. I thought you'd be.. more.. observant?
> Despite himself, Jacob felt a smile tug at his lips. Subtle, but there. Seeing him take the apple, hearing himself be called a "Knight"... It was oddly endearing.
I couldn't let an apple go to waste, tu sais. And we certainly didn't have any crispy pie crust around.
> He inches closer to the door, perhaps to hear through the crack of the door whether or not Wikilius had taken a bite of the apple, ensuring he was actually eating it. Maybe it was uncharacteristic of him, being this... Nice, to someone he considered a "freak".
---
> “Knight of the hour”. Jacob puffs his chest out slightly. Damn right he was..! ..Oh, and apples? ..Yes, he's got himself some apples. While the means of acquiring it was not something he'd like to discuss, the concept of sharing (or maybe, just offering) it to someone else was-
something he wasn't entirely against.
Hum. Your wish is my command.. I suppose.
> He pushes himself off the door, kneeling down and slipping out of his pack— after unbuckling it, he reaches inside and pulls out.. a whole apple. Wrapped in parchment used to cover the dried fig-
> Something in his head, maybe a stubborn, piercing little voice, told him to do something. And Jacob always hated being nagged, to the point of.. well... Giving into that little voice of his.
> Leaning his weight on the door, he knocks once, twice, with a gloved knuckle.
> ...! That.. the voice. A familiar one, one that always spoke in that annoying know-it-all tone.. but Jacob couldn't find a tinge of that in his stammers.
[Grumble..] ...it's Jacob. Open the damn door, maybe? I'm not here to decorate my axe with your blood. If you bleed at all.
> Jacob, did in fact, know who was behind that very door. Even with the bad feeling settling in his chest, he felt as if he was here for a reason -- and Jacob hated ignoring his duties.
[He opens the door.]
Hum... I’d have to say...chocolate. And when it's paired with some *piments de Cayenne*? Contrasts are just the best~
