ic inbox

[electricflock]

Comments

[electricflock]

Carrying and swinging him around is not good way to bore a chick.

[finalbows]

Ahh. I still don't quite get kids, and now I've really seen plenty. Repetitive action makes me gag.

[electricflock]

Didn’t your flock make the bouncy castles?

[finalbows]

I'm going to share another dark secret with you, Muffin.


Personally I have no idea at this point how the bouncy castles happened.

[electricflock]

Forbidden bouncy castle lore…

[finalbows]

Now you know.

[electricflock]

[chitters]

Will haunt me forever.

[finalbows]

_{[ ...
petpets the top of the muffincube's head, with just his pointer finger. ]}

The lighthouse was an accident, too. But I think I'd call that serendipity.

[electricflock]

I didn't know that either! Is serendipitous. Is my favorite building.

[finalbows]

_{[ wryly, ]}

The wisdom of age also informs me the unexposed interior is more suitable to clandestine liaisons.

[electricflock]

[THE CUBE POOFS UP]

That’s not— Someone lives there??

[finalbows]

<sub>[ ^titter,titter

sorry muffin. he lives for monocle pops ]</sub>

[electricflock]

[fsst fsst fsst!]

Was going to ask you to come over, but now how's that going to sound!

[finalbows]

Heh, heh, heh. It'll sound like how it sounds like, dear.

...but I can promise to play sweet and innocent.

[electricflock]

[muffin’s voice is suddenly EXTREMELY MUFFLED. possibly because he’s smushed his entire face into a pillow the way his cube is doing]

You don’t have to.


[…then, less muffled]

…but do want you to come over. I want to see you.

[finalbows]

<sub>[ sits up. pulls the little cube, pillow and all, into his lap. stares down at it. that cute smushed face...

he really wants to see the real thing. ]</sub>

...Okay. A few short minutes, and I'm there.

[electricflock]

[chirrups]

Will have my window open.

[finalbows]

Perfect~.

<sub>[ the angelcube vanishes.
But it really is a few short minutes, before, rather than coming in from the sky... a vine curls up into sight, with Angel Devil sitting on it, pretty as you please, like it's a swing bench.

He's still in his frilly PJs. He's got a very pleased-with-himself smile, as the vine leans him close to the open window... which he leans over into, like propping his elbows up on the sill is the most comfortable spot in the world. ]</sub>

Hello, stranger. I seem to be lost somewhere far from home. But then, I happened to see your open window...

[electricflock]

[muffin is up and waiting with the lights on instead of curled up in the dark by then

he whistles in surprise and bounds over to the window, laughing]

Poor wanderer! Do you want to come in out of the cold?

[finalbows]

Might I? I have taken rather a chill, straying across the dark face of the earth...

_{[ swing one leg in across the threshold, pull in the other-- but before he lets the vine slip away into the night after depositing him, he slides a hand across it as it goes-- plucking a red bloom. ]}

But I haven't much to offer for your kindness but this, I fear.

_{[ he holds out the rose. ]}

[electricflock]

[reaches out to accept it with a small bow, offering a hand to Angel Devil too to help him down from the windowsill]

I'm honored to accept such a beautiful token.

[he doesn't have the same flare for the dramatic, but he's trying!]

[finalbows]

_{[ one hand gently presses the bloom into his palm. the other he takes gladly. no gloves, in his pajamas; Angel Devil, Modern Version, has the softest hands of any of himself, with those lovingly-tended painted claw nails. ]}

^{Hmhmhmhmhmhm.} Ahhh. I never thought I'd be doing this sort of thing, again... You're quite sweet, to humor me, o stranger.

[electricflock]

[this is what muffin wanted. the cube call was nice, they always are, but it soothes something to see, hear, and touch Angel Devil face-to-face and know he's back]

Is nothing. Naturally I couldn't leave such a flower outside alone.

[finalbows]

_{[ he has full permission to not just play sweet and innocent, so Muffin very shortly gets to see, hear, and touch, up close, as Angie leans in and murmurs--]}

And what does he do with his salvaged flowers, I wonder?

_{[ a delicate hand splays flat against Muffin's chest, applying pressure just short of a squeeze. ]} Press them? Pluck them?

_{[ turns coyly away~~☆ ]}

Hang them out to dry~?

[electricflock]

[chitters, trying too hard to think of his lines to be TOO embarrassed.

but still enough to blush when he leans up and tucks the rose behind angie's ear]

He admires them.