#drolliic

[howthesleeplesswander]

With no chef in sight to pick apart today, Star turns their attention to the other people in the restaurant. Groups of friends, couples, some even by themselves. Not an unusual sight on top of the delicious as usual food. Even Rody's mad scramble to get to all the tables in time is familiar.

"Do you not think it strange that you're the only waiter?" although the bistro isn't big enough to warrant the need for more. Even one more, at least, would be nice so they can work in tandem. Regardless, Star leans cheek in one hand and reaches with their other hand for the suspended dish -- their, what, third?, dessert at this point. "It's almost as if you're being run ragged on purpose. Surely such an important place cares for its employees, no?" no, not really, the way cooks suddenly quit says otherwise, but maybe he is different. Vincent has odd tastes in more ways than one, after all.

[ hi Casi <3 Rody's turn to be bullied <33 ]

Answered! || @drolliic

Rody had been poised to bustle off to another table when the customer's question gave him pause. For a moment he only blinked at them, as dumbfounded by a patron trying to converse with him mid-shift as he was by the question itself.

"Uh, I mean—? I guess?" Sure, in the twenty-eight other service jobs he'd had previously, he couldn't recall any other restaurant that tried to operate with only one person on the wait staff. But La Guele de Saturne wasn't very big, and the small daily menu helped streamline things...

"Vince must not think we need anyone else, though," Rody said, shrugging with his free hand rubbing at the back of his neck. It'd be nice to have some help sometimes, but it's not like he was in charge of making those decisions. Realizing belatedly that he shouldn't be agreeing with anything that could make it sound like he was bad-mouthing his boss, Rody quickly set the dessert down on the table and waved his hands in the air.

"Y-yeah, he must know what he's doing since this place is so successful! Besides, it's not too many tables, and I've got my skates to help me out!" Never mind that this patron's third plate of dessert had sat ready in the window for nearly ten minutes before Rody finally delivered it. Hopefully they hadn't noticed that little detail.

[sansgout]

❛ what are you so afraid of? ❜ and so the entire restaurant grows quiet, grows cold, as if the bone-chilling tenseness has frozen even time still. Darkness creeps into the space and the mage's question isn't quite right, isn't even concern, it's something that twists itself with knowledge one shouldn't have. Ultimately, they don't care about the answer, never had. It's the way impassive visage twitches minutely that has them at the metaphorical edge of their seat. [ hi <3 ]

@drolliic || meme

It's been quite some time since he's felt so high-strung, wound so tight a single move could snap just about everything—and in turn ruin it all. There's a distinct wrongness in the air, something that sinks in and stains his body: bones all but grind together and ache with each move; the faraway clink of a patron setting their fork down with a modicum of clumsiness resounds like the crash of broken glass in his ears— He's more than once stolen away to that familiar back alley for a smoke (and, somewhat ironically, air), and yet each time Vincent sets foot back through those doors, that same air gets forced right out of him.

A single rush of breath. A tightening of his lips. A steeling flex of his shoulders. And he dives back in. He shoves it back down. He chokes it as he's always done. He thinks he has it under control, that no one could possibly know—

Until they ask that burning question as he excuses himself from their table (all smiles, pleasantries; forced, but practiced). And, indeed, any chance he had of shrugging it off is snuffed out when his footsteps tellingly waver.

He doesn't like their tone. No, he hates it. They ask it not as a question, not as a challenge, but merely a statement, as if they've been a rat scurrying through the walls all this time—witnessing everything no one else had. His fingers twitch on the empty tray tucked under one arm, a minuscule movement amplified by how still the rest of his body has become. For a prolonged and devastatingly uncomfortable moment, Vincent says and does nothing.

When he moves again, it's stiff. Rigid. As if he's fighting against forces of nature pulling him in every direction. He turns away from the customer, passes them a cracked and crooked smile over his shoulder—this one lacking any feigned warmth. “Thank you for coming. You can pay at the front.”

And just like that, the chef lurches back to his refuge in the kitchen— Almost as if he's running.

[astrxlfinale]

It's a mistake many make to think that the spirithief is only interested in that which shines in Amphoreus' radiant golden light. Rather, anything can catch his interest, be it coins traded in the Marmoreal Market or a trinket waved in the air. All it takes is that one treasures whatever they are holding, so much that the mere thought of having it snatched away in the blink of an eye is more than enough to instill a deep feeling of annoyance and frustration in them, even perhaps sadness. Or disbelief at the situation at hand, that works too.

And snatch it does Bartholos, a purple mist that materializes by Caelus' side out of the blue, yoinks the much awaited pastry out of his hand and makes off the moment he touches the ground, only fading afterimages left behind. In the place of the now missing treat is a coin, one that poor Trailblazer is more than likely to bite on instead. Ouch. That must hurt something fierce.

Just before diving through the portal to the realm of shadows, the menace glances in the other's way one last time -- and pulls on his lower eyelid while poking his tongue out. See ya, sucker!

A gracious boon! What better way to acclimate to possibly being stranded in this mythical realm than cake? The essence of frosting, the perfected balance between frosting and the formulated cake in question. Just the fragrant scent it exudes was more than enough to ignite that excitement within his very being. A touch of sugar was an excellent way to spend his time lounging within Marmoreal market. "Eheheeeee~ Victory, thy name is Caelus! You happen to be lookin awfully, awfully scrumptious today!"

What shame is there to exercise avarice in one such moment? A rightful transaction, a grace of adding his hands in to keep this city afloat, it was enough to be cherished if it wasn't for a swirl of violet whimsy making itself so bitterly known. Bitter, mainly due the sheer lack of emptiness that he bites down into. That snapped Caelus clear from his reverie, eyes perking open wider-- with pain.

%#@%(**(^

WHAT IN THE HELL IS THIS THING MADE OF!? A taste of metal!? The agonized hardness that parades as a cake? Anger demands vengeance to the seller, until he realizes it's one of those damned coins that sports a bastardish looking face. As the nerves of his teeth screamed in distaste, a dramatically murderous look shot towards the remnants of that lost realm.

"You.." Caelus's voice was drawn low, ripping that coin away as its vengefully clenched.

Was this the core of what got that damn Spiritthief all warm and fuzzy!? Path power found itself surging brightly within as a rebellion is declared.

"NOT WITH MY BEFORE WEEKEND REWARD YA DAMN JOLLY RANCHER!"

Who would've known that pettiness would serve as such a effective motivator. Breathe through him, Oronyx! Caelus's hand would draw forth, allowing for the very companion of space, time to be harnessed in his limited capacity. That very portal found itself gradually being locked in place. Normally, no sane individual would look at that vortex of swirling power and consider it diveable. Yet. Cake was of the essence.

After a mighty leap, Caelus's hands would grasp at the very portal, frosted by frozen time as his utterly displeased face peed into the void. With the light of the sun serving as a beam to highlight his face, this being hosting a Stellaron looked like some bygone god scorned of his ambrosia.

"Don't make me turn you into my next pie!"

@drolliic

[greedbent]

"I know it's your whole thing to never smile, but you look like you've swallowed a lemon. Maybe try to frown a little less at least?" [ who else other than Star lmao, bc of this post ]

@drolliic || star is 5ever the pest we love to see <3 <3

“I smile.”

He doesn't present it as an argument, but as a statement. A truth. A whole reality of which this particular thorn in his side so happened to be unaware for a multitude of reasons. In fact, Kaz could prove it right now, if he so wished. He could turn to them, sarcasm tainting not just the edges, but the whole of a tight-lipped grin simply to play this game right along with them.

But, well, he's never been one to show interest in any game where he gains nothing.

“If you aren't around to ever see it,” he says, only then at the absolute least allowing his gaze to slide and meet theirs, “then maybe you ought to consider a common denominator.”

[windsfavored]

@drolliic &&. said... "Do you have an hour or so to spare?" something tells Aether that even if he didn't, Ren would still make some time for his request. After all, it's not often that travelling fallen star asks for things for himself. "I could use a hand, aha." he'd braid his hair again himself, but he feels like trying something new. He just hopes the other won't mind how much hair he sheds from all the stress and all

❝  an  hour  of  my  time  for  NOTHING  in  return?  that  sounds  like  a  pretty  terrible  deal  if  you  ask  me. ❞   the  wanderer's  complaints  are  wholly  out  of  obligation  —  the  words  lack  any  true  heat  to  them,  he  merely  feigns  his  protests  to  MAINTAIN  some  paper-thin  image.  he  doesn't  really  mind  at  all.  even  if  he  did,  it  would  be  awfully  hypocritical  to  deny  such  a  SIMPLE  REQUEST  with  how  much  time  he  spends  prattling  on  about  debts.  his  own  hair  never  grows;  it's  as  unchanging  as  the  rest  of  him.  any  attempts  to  cut  it  shorter  are  met  with  the  same  regenerative  effect  as  a  conventional  injury  —  as  if  his  body  protests  even  the  smallest  of  changes,  so  determined  to  cling  to  its  pre-programmed  idea  of  ETERNITY.  (  his  creator,  in  all  of  her  alleged  mercy,  couldn't  even  grant  him  that  much.  )  even  so,  he's  no  stranger  to  braiding  hair.  the  kabukimono  practically  jumped  at  the  chance  to  acquire  new  knowledge  —  ravenous  for  scraps  of  information,  no  matter  how  small.  something  as  simple  as  neatening  up  one's  appearance  was  absolutely  fascinating  to  a  being  wholly  unfamiliar  to  the  world  he  found  himself  thrown  so  unceremoniously  into.

well.  in  all  fairness,  the  wanderer  supposes  there  are  more  USELESS  skills  out  there  to  have.

❝  turn  around. ❞   he  tells  aether,  accentuating  the  demand  with  the  little  twirl  of  a  finger.  ❝  ...  and  stay  still.  considering  how  much  hair  you  have  to  work  with,  i  can  only  imagine  we're  going  to  be  here  for  a  while. ❞   for  all  of  his  faux-complains,  ren  certainly  doesn't  waste  any  time  when  it  comes  to  getting  down  to  business.   ❝  do  you  have  a  brush  or  something  to  tie  this  with?  ...  or  were  you  assuming  i  was  going  to  donate  those  items  myself? ❞  not  that  it  particularly  matters  to  him,  of  course.  the  wanderer  is  nothing  if  not  meticulously  prepared  —  he's  fairly  certain  he  has  both  stored  away  in  the  realm  within  his  chest  for  precisely  these  sorts  of  situations.

[insilverbay]

from @drolliic:

"Hey, Birdie," Aventurine saunters over, hands casually in pockets, smile large and charming, frame bending with each step as if an invisible force were guiding him. He stops just short of Sunday, straightens himself then leans forward again, rose glasses sliding down his nose; "I think you've forgotten everybody's role in the team. I make sure that everybody is protected and you that our actual damage dealer does their job." not that he can't take that spot in a pinch, but it's not his usual. Sunday thrusting him into it for the duration of the fight was frustrating.

With a coy expression on his face, the halovian looks almost proud of himself with how he's supported the team this time around. However, of course there is a voice of defiance amongst his group. He can tell who it is immediately, causing him to sigh, before looking over his shoulder for a moment. Truth be told he thought the battle went well with the sudden turn he decided to twist it from, but seems like he should've talked over his idea with the others firstly if there was an issue... No matter, it was only the gambler of the IPC who was speaking out of obvious irritation.

"Oh, how you wound me," He speaks up sarcastically, trying to not laugh at the end of said statement, before continuing on after a scoff, "Aventurine, if I didn't think you weren't capable of both positions with managing the team's well-being in equal manners... Why would I have put you there? Just to make you suffer or to even make you more of a target?" Hopefully the message gets across to himself in either way he construed it towards the Stoneheart.

[iudiex]

ask the graphic maker! ( accepting ) // @drolliic

6. A graphic you’re proud of

hmmm. i am proud of many of my graphics, especially lately! but these three come to mind:

my neuvillette pinned post graphic, my lyney icon border, and my fu xuan icon border. the last two especially were labors of love. lyney in particular!

17. Name something you would like to improve on/learn

in keeping with the spirit of my last post - apart from cutting shit out, i'd like to get a bit better at utilizing brushes? i find them to be immensely tedious and feel like i don't... use them as well or as much as i should.

18. How long do your graphics usually take?

too long. to those who have commissioned me, your patience is loved and appreciated. but honestly it really depends on the graphic. i am slowest with icon borders / post dividers because there are a lot of little elements. a full set honestly takes me about 4 - 6 hours maybe just depending. but in typical finch fashion, i am either fast as lightning or slow as molasses, really depending on the assets i have available and the complexity of said graphic.

[abyssmalice]

"I recognize this is not exactly the best place to rest, but I'm here already and I'm so so exhausted." come the grumbled words, golden gaze giving up trying to pierce the darkness above then in favour of looking at Freyja "Tea sounds lovely, though." [ Aether! he's having a Floor Moment in the abyss, do forgive him ]

"That is understandable," Freyja replies kindly, walking over to Aether with her ever-polite, ever-permanent smile. "And I would love to pour you a pot of tea right now, but..."

She comes to a stop right by his head, leaning over to stare straight down at her otherworlder guest. While there's barely anything to see above regardless, blackness and roiling chaos, her face probably isn't any more interesting for a view either - especially with her long hair cascading all over the place.

"I don't believe it is possible to drink tea lying down. Not without some difficulty." She tilts her head a bit, causing some of her hair to brush Aether's face in the process. "Perhaps you should come and sit down at my abode instead. It will be a short walk there - though I understand if you would rather remain here regardless. But I can better prepare a drink elsewhere. And some cookies, if you'd like?"

She continues to patiently stare down at him, unblinking.

[corpcuffed]

"Don't you think you've seen enough?" and then, without even waiting for an answer, Star poof!s the poor guy's glasses away. There, problem solved. He'll get them back later, no worries. Eventually. Maybe.

@drolliic || okay but valid ???

“ . . . what—”

But that question's resolved a split second later only for about a dozen more to come rolling in. Because quite suddenly (and Wally's near-positive this is one of the most apt uses for the word), the world turns fuzzy, and he's left standing there in silence while a hand moves to adjust—

Well. Adjust what's clearly (fuzzily) not there anymore.

He thinks to himself, Sure, yeah. Obviously that's the only way things could've gone. Why am I not surprised?

“Great.” Wally almost squints in some misguided effort . . . until he decides he actually doesn't need to see them (or care to—?). “Am I . . . I-I'm still going to get those back, right?”

[howthesleeplesswander]

"That... can't possibly be comfortable." is what Tighnari says to break the silence that fell once Kaveh finished his rant about the... new piece of furniture he found upon returning home. He's seen some unique designs himself, some more successful and some less, and even considered getting one for his hut, but. This is just ridiculous. He can certainly feel the architect's pain. "Now, I'm not encouraging you to do anything and you should definitely not start a fire indoors, but it's getting rather cold with winter on the horizon. Perhaps there's still hope for that thing to have some use." if it doesn't become a shelf / coat hanger instead. Anything to keep it out of sight.

[ Sorry, not sorry, I had to-- ]

@drolliic || Answered!

"It can't possibly be legal!" Kaveh shrieked, shrill and bordering on hysterics. He'd been in this state for the better part of half an hour now, with no end in sight. Not so long as that affront to design and interior decorating mocked him from where Alhaitham had placed it in the living room.

"It's the most horrific, impractical, offensive excuse for a piece of furniture I've ever seen! Whoever designed this should be arrested as a menace to society and banned from making anything ever again!" If only he could convince Cyno to actually do that—or better yet, to arrest Alhaitham for the outright assault that was forcing Kaveh to look at it with his own two eyes.

The architect devolved into wordless, pained moans as he buried his face in his hands. "I'm not going to make it until winter with that thing in this house. Maybe I'll drag it into the desert and throw it into the Wenut Tunnels. He'll never find it there."

[sylvctica]

      ... is this how Neuvilette and Zhongli feel about having paperwork ... they didn't expect that many friendship bingo applications would come in all at the same time.

@drolliic said: "Uh... I guess we are a pretty good friend match considering I almost ticked off all boxes?" honestly did not expect that. [ Aether! ]

      A laugh follows from Sylvie, head dipping in a nod. Yep, Aether is friend shaped after all; all the stars are aligned!

@starlitwishes said: The meme for Decarabian? :'D

      "... friend to other gods isn't ticked off? Though again, you already hit a friend bingo anyway ..." A stamp of approval, regardless.

@viigilant said: He appears defeated by this result.. does this mean Sylvie won't accept him?

      They take the paper and checkmark everything before showing it to Xiao. "You are son shaped, thus you automatically tick everything cause you are my son."

@icicle-dragon said: “LOOK LOOK! TREE PARENT I COLORED IT IN AND MADE A SMILEY FACE!!!” He misunderstood the assignment and thought it was a coloring thing.

      A soft 'pfft' leaves the god, looking at the paper with a stupidly wide smile. "Well, I think you did a wonderful job at it, you got every little square covered."

@the-wayward-snowflake said: Isolde likes dressing nice, but she just needs pointers LOL

      "Really? I would've very much marked fashionable on here, but she's already got quite a few of these covered ..."

[albaitross]

(why are all the back-alleys full of gods and stuff?) / continued! - @drolliic

it takes a while for Moppy Kid to respond. longer than what would be polite as per most humans' etiquette standards, but May has seen worse and stranger - both by human and non-human standards. so she remains relaxed in her seat, watching patiently. in fact, the dragging silence is nice, an opportunity. it's free reign to simply observe.

and she observes... that Moppy Kid is truly deserving of that moniker. gosh, that hair! so curly! so, so much like a mop! an iconic, perfect match for the descriptor of a 'mop of hair' and such! does he style it? is it natural? wow, so moppy! maybe she should have the column be about his hair routine instead...

unfortunately, the train of thought has to be aborted with his reply. not that his reply is disappointing in any sort of contrast. curry and coffee... just like on the menus of this cafe. oh, is this kid actually being trained to take over the place in the future? the mundane answer is likely no, because maybe he's just another teenage part-timer and of course, he has to learn how to make anything on the menu if he's working here -

ah, but what's life without assuming the most dramatic things about it? or rather, her own life always likes to make random dramatic turns, so she might as well take the initiative on it.

(and... if she's being a teeny bit more honest, there's this edge she's been feeling—

logically, it's probably because of the whole, well. fucking demiurges and their pointless tunnel visions for power - the one that hovered right over shibuya earlier in the week wouldn't be the first nor last of its kind. in any case, since something clearly not-normal happened recently, the strangeness in the air could be easily attributed to that event, the aftershocks and remnants.

gut instinct says she needs to prepare herself. somehow. with anything.)

"oh, is it really so secret?" May pouts and puts on her best, cringe-worthy cutesy voice. "come on, it wouldn't hurt to give a hint or two at least, right? right? there's nothing sacred in this modern era, and truth be told, no one thinks food is any more sacred either now! give into your little vices and i'll give you 5 yen?"

she punctuates the end of that absurd act with a pause, a snort, a witch's crackle of a laugh, and a return to the lazy posture of a journalist with questionable ability and unquestionable unreliability. she leans against the counter, propping her chin onto a pair of entwined hands as she smiles bemusedly at the teen barista.

"my joking aside - aren't you quite the wordsmith? very poetic of you to frame it as an exchange of secrets, mysterious yet so businesslike. you might be a good writer in the future, if you polish yourself." the woman hums a light note, a touch of something thoughtful to it. "let's see then... a deal, secrets for secrets... well, as long as i retain the unfettered right to refuse divulging whenever, then sure, what's the harm? alright Moppy Kid, you have a deal—"

she finalizes her words with a snappy clack of her teeth bared into a cheerful grin, and the barest touch of honesty - an inhuman sort, spoken but not heard, more a sensation. it's shaped like a spark and echoes like the concept of determination itself, feeling like light and the sheer innateness of all things, burning both with a soft brilliance akin to sunlight and the firm sharpness of words being etched onto a contract, a promise; a 'honesty' of the soul itself.

which, to a normal human, means nothing. too fleshy to feel such subtle, immaterial things. it's just a habit for her to ensure that her words bear weight, bear force - she's had too many encounters with the fae and the divine and the demonic and the whatnot, all with their own brands of horseshit wordplay.

"—provided you go first, that is. divulge the secrets of good coffee for poor ol' me, and i'll tell you something worth your while. like..." the woman tilts her head, thinking. "ah, yes. i can teach you a trick or two to better protect that head of yours, including your incredibly curly mop of hair. unless you're not the superstitious type? i hope you are. my tricks run on stuff like the power of love, friendship and faith, you see."

[windsfavored]

@drolliic &&. said... Scoots over while holding two thermoses -- one for Ren ( containing bitter tea ) and for himself ( a disastrous attempt at making coffee ). No, Aether has definitely not kept the container handed to the wanderer in his bag on the off-chance he runs into the other. Yep. What a big coincidence that the moment he decided to visit Sumeru, he stopped by one of the spots he knows his friend frequents [ HENLO!!!! AND WB!!!!! ]

he's  perched  atop  a  boulder  at  the  moment.  one  of  several  outcroppings  of  rocks  along  the  water's  edge  —  though  this  spot  in  particular  is  among  the  wanderer's  favorites  for  its  conveniently  flat  surface.  he  feels  a  bit  like  a  lizard  warming  itself  in  the  light.  kasa  set  aside,  eyes  closed  and  head  tipped  back,  features  cast  in  delicate  sunbeams  that  make  him  appear  more  like  a  painting  miraculously  imbued  with  life.  (  a  beatific  effect  no  doubt  liable  to  be  SHATTERED  the  moment  ren  opens  his  mouth.  )  one  might  be  forgiven  for  assuming  the  wanderer  is  completely  at  peace  —  lazy  and  unguarded  and  blissfully  ignorant  of  his  surroundings.  not  quite;  aether's  approach  has  an eye  cracking  open,  lavender  gaze  sharp  as  a  blade.  he  pretends  to  stretch,  not  so  much  out  of  any  need  to  do  so  but  rather  because  force  of  habit  compels  him  to  emulate  such  mundane  gestures.

when  ren  reaches  out  to  accept  the  thermos,  it's  with  his  companion's  same  lack  of  fanfare.  perfectly  casual  —  a  complete  coincidence  (  obviously  )  but  not  the  sort  that  requires  any  FUSSING.

❝  ...  ❞  legs  cross.  the  wanderer  takes  an  experimental  sip  of  his  drink,  humming  approvingly  at  the  taste.  he  isn't  especially  picky  about  his  tea  so  long  as  it's  suitably  BITTER  —  and  in  that  regard,  this  certainly  hits  the  mark.  ❝  you're  still  alive. ❞  he  notes,  with  the  same  mundanity  of  one  commenting  on  the  WEATHER.  ❝  good  job. ❞   (  by  his  standards,  it's  almost  polite.  )  turning  away,  ren  takes  a  moment  to  stare  out  across  the  water.  it's  a  shallow  stream,  lined  with  smooth  pebbles.  a  few  fish  have  already  taken  notice  of  his  presence.  predictably,  they  cluster  at  the  water's  edge  —  little  wisps  of  silver  fighting  against  the  current.  he  would  almost  feel  sorry  for  them,  but  it's  their  own  fault  for  being  so  STUBBORN.  even  now,  the  wanderer  still  hasn't  a  clue  why  animals  of  every  shape  and  size  are  so  universally  drawn  to  him.

another  sip,  and  he  adds,  ❝  the  tea  isn't  half  bad,  either. ❞  huh.  he  must  be  in  a  good  mood  today.

[fantomevoleur]

“Good god, what was I thinking there?! You’re right, other me, if I’m going to smell the colors I have to taste the colors too!”

Sound advice from a fellow alternate. He’ll be breaking out the color flavoring for this special occasion.

[stellatenuem]

Morgana doesn't say much or anything, really, when Ren almost squishes him by restlessly rolling over. He makes some annoyed noises under his breath and begins reaching a clawed paw over only to freeze abruptly when they themselves seem to echo a whine or two just as quietly before trying to curl into themselves. It's... not the first time he's witness to such and, with a heavy heart, he also knows it's not the last one. Instead of giving them a rude awakening for nearly flattening him, Morgana decides to wiggle his way into Ren's arms and let a soft purring noise rumble through him before closing his eyes. They have a long day ahead of them -- rest is of utmost importance.

Morgana first put their human on record as being a restless sleeper by nature. He wasn't aware that it was the visits to the Velvet Room during their days in Tokyo that would have Ren tossing and turning in the night, sometimes even moreso than the nightmares.

The cat-shaped being learns when Ren's journey as trickster is over, that Ren is actually someone who typically sleeps like a rock.

Even their nightmares are often silent... only evident to have occurred after they have ended, when Ren would come to suddenly, thrashing or shouting. But Morgana is always there to catch them when they aren't, as Ren starts to twitch or cry.

When Morgana nudges his way under Ren's arm and against his chest, Ren once again stirs, his arm tucking the cat closer as if he were a stuffed animal. (Ren now cuddles with Morgana even more than his star doll from childhood.) Morgana will tolerate being squished, with having his fur tussled beyond what his tongue can mend... because it's Ren — his best friend.

With the warmth of another body close to them, and Morgana's diligent purring, Ren's small sounds gradually quiet until they stop altogether. Soon, Ren starts resembling a person again instead of a ball of knives. If they continue to have bad dreams, Morgana is none the wiser... as the human has settled down.

Tomorrow, they'll take care of Alice. Morning will come soon... but at least for now, for tonight, there's peace.

At least for tonight.

[abyssmalice]

It's not so much a nickname, but what Ayumu has decided is her actual name by how they refer to her by it and nothing else; "Little sapling."

free opportunity to call tonitoni a bunch of names

"But I'm not little!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Why do you keep calling me that!!"

She huffs and puffs and childishly waves her arms around, attempting to viscerally convey her rejection of such an infantile-sounding nickname. And that's ultimately all she does. Whatever. Who cares if it sounds silly or like something a grandma would call her or something. Maybe it reflects more on her ex-colleague that they're calling her dumb stuff.

Yeah. That's a totally acceptable logic. They're a dummy who thought messing with Irminsul would do any good, so of course they call her dumb and kinda stupidly-cutesy sort of things. This will reflect poorly on them rather than her. Totally!

never call me that again | meh | idk how to feel about it | i'm ok with it | i like it | i love it | please call me that all the time