thusia | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: Chrono, Tide, whoeverrr
When: Day 142, afternoon
Where: PLACES
What: Some coma'd assholes not being in comas anymore

[In a certain Sparkly apartment, a sleeping tinydemon blinks awake slowly, staring at his ceiling with some amount of consternation.]

[AND MEANWHILE, in an manner comically similar to his first foray into the afterlife, a merpire stumbles rather ungracefully out of Pi-Lambda, hand braced against a wall for support and dripping wet from head to toe. He looks entirely put out, but... he at least has clothes on this time......]

How many goddamned times...

(( HEADING OUT FOR A BIT, pick ups later ))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Thank you.

Warmer weather has returned, and the snow has melted. You should find the outside far more comfortable.

--In five days' time?

In five days, yes.

Snow and frost are no different than cool days and rain. They do not require the full turning of a season to come and go.

... Noted. Thank you.

It's no trouble.

[Folds the towel over his arm, and nods.]

Good day, then.

[...]

[Okay, you know what. Fuck this.]

Wait.

What else did I miss?

There was little else, besides that. A good number of the gods here conspired to put a portion of the population in servant attire and have them serve drinks and cakes, but aside from some few comings and goings there have been no other occurrences of note.

Then what is wrong with you?

There is nothing wrong with me.

And yet you are acting outside of your normal behavior.

What behaviour would that be?

[... No, I'm not gonna name names.

He just makes a frustrated noise and slumps against the wall, running an irritable hand through his hair.]

As you will, then.

Do you have any other questions?

. . .

No. None.

[Nods again, and turns to go.]

[Right, you do that.

I'm going to stand here and ruthlessly smother this strangely hurt-like feeling I seem to be experiencing for some reason.]

[You did very specifically say that you would not hear protests over whatever fitting end you have chosen for yourself.]

[Who actually chooses jungle fever, come on now!!]

[Who chooses three days of avoidance at the bottom of the lake?]

[People with too many feelings for their own good who also live in large bodies of water.]

[Precisely.]

[Yeah, well, shut up.

Either way, it's a very, very long while later that the door to Zexion's basement creaks open again.]

Edited (fucking homophones) 2013-06-04 02:16 (UTC)

[A long while, perhaps, but in some ways it's a good deal shorter than one would have expected.

Zexion looks up with a bit of surprise, caught right in the middle of draping a pair of scarves over his arm, their matching fingerless-glove sets still resting on the coffee table.]

Welcome back.

Edited 2013-06-04 03:23 (UTC)

[He leans against the back of the door for a long moment, hand pressed to an unpleasant-looking wound on his neck. Aside from that, and looking like he's been punched quite soundly several times (because he has) or just awakened from a fevercoma (because he did), there's a sluggishness to his movements that implies more than one kind of exhaustion.]

You knit far quicker than she did.