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Posted: Tue Jan 02, 2018 3:33 pm
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"Oh don't kid yourself, Invasi." Muerte rolled his eyes as Aprife started to leave, "You'll rue ever comparing yourself to me! Rue!"
Well, he was getting tea though. Aprife gone, the stupid show stopped for a moment, and Muerte allowed himself to flop rather ungracefully over the table where he was sitting. He looked at the book sitting across from him, reached out to bat the book gingerly between his fingers. Being patient was hard. Wasn't it done yet? UGH.
By the time Aprife would come back, Muerte would be found face down on the table, his shoulders and horns adorned with fat pigeons. The longer he remained stationary, the more birds showed themselves, the more birds used him as a perch. Muerte Perchist.
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Posted: Thu Jan 04, 2018 8:24 am
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Aprife stood in the doorway, bee slippers on, a steaming cup of tea in each hand, and a lusus nestled between his horns (one that had been all too eager for the invitation). They hadn't just arrived, either, they'd been there for a few minutes, at least, observing the scene. As much as Aprife wanted to stand there even longer and see how many pigeons the greenblood could accumulate, if this kept going, their drinks would get cold. Oh the s**t he'd get for that.
"Hey, go wake him up, huh?" he told Bumbs—despite knowing Muerte was definitely not asleep—who took off almost immediately like he'd been waiting for this. The fat, fluffy bumblebee plobbed down onto the table in front of him. It was almost like the birds accepted him as one of their own. None of them scattered.
With his tiny legs, Bumbs bapped Muerte on the top of his head.
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Posted: Wed Sep 12, 2018 12:36 pm
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