i of newt toil until trouble

Dream has managed to sit up in the time that it took Impulse to stumble. He downs the milk immediately, lurching forward as suddenly both potion effects vanish. He swallows the bile that rose in his throat from the reaction, and settles in the cage. "Think I can get some of that juice too? Wash the taste out of my mouth?"

Impulse drops down on a couch next to the cage before he downs his own milk. He leans back and lets out a large huff of relief as all the lingering effects disappear. The dizziness and disorientation leaves along with the stupor the antidote overdose put him in. The biting edge of withering he didn’t realize was still there calms down. The burning from what he now realizes is magic overload doesn’t go away completely, but it settles to where he doesn’t feel like he’s burning out his own lungs.

“… That is a reason, I’ll give you that,” Impulse admits. “It’s not just any chicken in the vents. Dream meet Effie-Nugget-Henrietta-Doomclaw. Effie meet Dream, the local pest. Unlike you, Effie lives here and is free to roam where she likes.”

“Oh, of course! I’m Impulse, nice to meet you,” Impulse steps back and swings open the door wider. He bends over, scooping Effie up from underneath with one deft hand when she makes a break for it, the little drama queen.

Penny coos at the adorable chicken, then enters the apartment. "Well, I work as an enchanter and a seamstress. I can put enchantments on clothes to various effects. I figured I'd bring some samples for you to look at and then perhaps we could work out a deal?"

Impulse sets Effie down in her grassy pen, giving her a few pets when she clucks forlornly at his retreating steps.

“Coming!” Impulse calls, looking up from his desk at the knock. He caps his redstone dust jar and sets it next to a few vials of pufferfish poison before standing up.

"Hello! I'm Penelope, from the other building. I heard you're offering trades for eggs?"

“Oh, of course! I’m Impulse, nice to meet you,” Impulse steps back and swings open the door wider. He bends over, scooping Effie up from underneath with one deft hand when she makes a break for it, the little drama queen.

Impulse posts a simple flier to the apartment’s community posting boards. It’s on plain white paper pinned up with black and yellow thumbtacks and covered in various cartoony chicken doodles drawn in the margins by the others.

Penny blinks at the ad and considers what she has on hand. She goes back to her apartment to gather a few things, then heads to the other building with a small bundle tucked under her arm.

“Coming!” Impulse calls, looking up from his desk at the knock. He caps his redstone dust jar and sets it next to a few vials of pufferfish poison before standing up.

Impulse is in a dead-eyed stare down with the broken coffee machine when he hears the shout. There’s no telling who committed such a warcrime; Zed trying to mod it by combining it with the roomba, Tango supercharging and short-circuiting the thing when his coffee doesn’t come out boiling hot enough, Skizz’s general hilarious bad luck. Impulse is pretty sure he didn’t try to transmute it in his sleep again given the lack of extra shiny bits.

Wilbur attempts to push the fucking attack bird away from his face, still shouting as he does. Why do they have an attack bird in their laundry room. Are their washing machines really that special? Was it in the vents? That's Dream's thing, he's pretty sure Dream copyrighted it and everything. He could sue.

Impulse stares at the man in front of him. He doesn’t recognize him and he’s fairly close with all the residents. But Impulse is admittedly a bit of a hermit when he gets too deep in brewing, so it’s possible he missed something. The man does look very put out though with his spilled laundry and the feathers tangled in his hair. Pathetic all around. In a way that makes him want to pat them on the back and laugh. Well, Impulse isn’t in the habit of driving out strangers who come in through the front door.

Dream has managed to sit up in the time that it took Impulse to stumble. He downs the milk immediately, lurching forward as suddenly both potion effects vanish. He swallows the bile that rose in his throat from the reaction, and settles in the cage. "Think I can get some of that juice too? Wash the taste out of my mouth?"

Impulse drops down on a couch next to the cage before he downs his own milk. He leans back and lets out a large huff of relief as all the lingering effects disappear. The dizziness and disorientation leaves along with the stupor the antidote overdose put him in. The biting edge of withering he didn’t realize was still there calms down. The burning from what he now realizes is magic overload doesn’t go away completely, but it settles to where he doesn’t feel like he’s burning out his own lungs.

Impulse hums and walks over to the kitchen. Well stumbles. Effie follows with a much more dignified strut. The burning in his chest hasn’t gone away. Instead it’s slowly spread to his limbs. A problem for future Impulse. Just like the now gold handle of the fridge. A surge of magic flooded his tattoos, activated the redstone dust infused in the ink, and turned the plastic to gold. Did he eat a redstone block while he wasn’t looking??? Instead of thinking, Impulse calls out, “I have juice… leftover pasta… Effie eggs… someone ate my cake… Wait who-? Oh! Milk!”

Wilbur doesn't usually venture into the Hermit building. It's not the sort of place you should go into lightly, especially if you're a friend of Tommy Innit. Mostly because he will shout at you for fifteen minutes about his nemesis who apparently lives in the building.

Impulse is in a dead-eyed stare down with the broken coffee machine when he hears the shout. There’s no telling who committed such a warcrime; Zed trying to mod it by combining it with the roomba, Tango supercharging and short-circuiting the thing when his coffee doesn’t come out boiling hot enough, Skizz’s general hilarious bad luck. Impulse is pretty sure he didn’t try to transmute it in his sleep again given the lack of extra shiny bits.

Dream managed to worm his way into the Hermit's vents, somehow managing to not trigger some of the traps he could see. He doesn't know what Tommy's thinking by saying these vents are worse then their own. Fucking brand new, barely any dust to be found, and...

Impulse is trending to his window box full of roses - his very favorite, very rare, and very deadly wither roses - when a cage comes crashing out of the ceiling vent and lands in front of him.

So I found this chicken sitting on the fire escape. Zed has already convinced Skizz we should keep her. How much trouble do you think we’d get in if the landlord finds out?

I don't know if it was you who put a cage trap in the vents but if it was you please up your game or add more traps, I think Dream's going to try to get in again.

Now that just sounds like cruel and unusual punishment lol. But will do o7