-from the Kitchen, Laurel looks up at the sound of someone knocking at the door-
-he walks over, and sticks his head out the window to see who it is, while also checking out if anyone else is answering it- Mmm...?
-Brie on the other hand is still playing chess against herself in the kitchen-
1.5 imperial gallons of tea were consumed during the writing of this post… (the presence is gettin' the hang of it...!)
(Manages to sigh, despite the lack of lungs.) (Although there are some words it struggles with, it manages more finesse with its clawed digits than one would expect.)
They say an artist is his own harshest critic. I think that's not the most reliable adage, but there is some truth to it. I tend to rank my performance on a given case with how many of my skills I was able to use effectively... That one used just about all of them. The rest were simply not as challenging. (It thanks her, smiling, and remarks in its trademark short bursts of few words that at this rate, it should be more adept at Sign than at verbal communication.)
Edited by MobileLeprechaun on Oct 30th 2018 at 8:51:46 AM
make it through this year if it kills you yet | 2001-2019(Sits up a little straighter, his rotted bones getting a more alert-looking posture.) (It gently leans its head forward, the tip of its wet nose brushing against Solace's fingers.)
Imagine for a moment, one day, you witness a criminal having a fatal heart attack in the act of his crime, putting his misdeeds to a stop. What a miraculous happening, you might think, an act of God... Imagine this scenario repeating many times over. Imagine it afflicting not only those in the process of committing a crime, but also the incarcerated, wanted suspects at large, those with known ties to criminal organizations. Imagine now, the gradual, global spread of this phenomenon. Where does one even begin? (It just looks... so tranquil. Such a massive Presence, coalesced into the form of a long-extinct beast, but it exudes such calm.)
make it through this year if it kills you yet | 2001-2019... -he looks back at Brie-
-then looks back outside- ...
-and just walks around to the door, opening it with a cup of coffee in his hands- Are you advertising a gym, or are you here to cause trouble...?
-Brie apparently hasn't noticed-
1.5 imperial gallons of tea were consumed during the writing of this post

"I'm Marisa- and welcome to a one-and-a-half way trip to crazytown!"