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> A bowl in one hand and a rather ridiculously large jar of buds in the other, you leisurely make your way back into the castle from the courtyard, pockets jingling with all manner of paraphernalia. Your wings flit lazily against your back and your feet hover an inch off the ground; who knew being a ghost would have its perks in terms of transportation.
> You come to stand in front of his doorway, giving the frame a polite couple of knocks before peering inside.
"Riddles..?"
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> The one thing you have been blessed with is an apt sense of direction; easily you locate the ship, phasing through the hull and finding yourself in one of the storage rooms. You suppose you could have some fun with this.
> Closing your eyes, you allow yourself to seek out that little, choked flame, that small ember that continually escapes you, and you reach for it, take hold of it; it squirms in your grasp, desperate for escape, but you've managed to learn how to tame it. With a soft breath you give it some life, let the fire burn a little brighter, a little stronger.
> It's your friend.
> A quiet moaning fills the airducts of the ship, ringing crisp and clear as it searches out your target. Ahh, there she is. You drift up, floating through the ceiling as you make your way towards her. The moaning grows louder, stronger. Soon its a groan. A wailing. A howl.
> It was time you let her understand that your threats were never idle.
>> Plop down next to Passus in the pile with some wine and a couple of glasses.
>> You figure so long as you're here to make sure he isn't drinking himself into a stupor, and its for the sake of celebration rather than coping, it ought not be too harmful.
>> Rather than try to get him to quit cold turkey you want to try and get him to associate alcohol with more positive things, like your return and the grubs and other silly things like that. It was a time for celebration.
> Still cuddling Passus in the pile, you affectionately nuzzle and smooch your moirail, your incessant purring having yet to quit. Idly you card your fingers through his hair, peep-peeping at a grub as it scurries around the both of you.
"Sollux is supposed to be coming over sometime soon. You okay with that?"
> Before he has the time to give you an answer you see a little flash and glance up to find..
> S
> Sollux
> Sollux what are you wearing
>> As soon as you're done with your ablution you wrap a towel around your waist, off to find your moirail in the pile. You're just to tired to bother with clothes, to be honest, and you don't think he'll much care either way. Hopefully he wouldn't make too much of a fuss about your wings.
>> Wearily, you plop down beside him with a heavy sigh, curling up to his side and purring weakly.
hey there.
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> You're standing on the very edge of Cudi's bubble, well out of sight, teetering between one patch of grass and another. The bubble in front of you is something of a savanna, the grasses high and dry as a steady wind blows across. You watch them ripple and wave in the wind, amused, but you notice it stops when it reaches the edge of Cudi's bubble; its such a peculiar thing to see, like waves crashing against a brick wall before swallowing themselves up.
> Soon you feel a hand on your shoulder and you sigh.
> Must be time to go, then.
> Well, Cudi had specifically said "no voyeurism", so you figure the polite way to go about this is to sling Sollux over your shoulder and carry him to another room, swiftly closing the door behind you. Carelessly you sling him around (hoping to rile him a little without causing too much damage) before setting him down, opting to sprawl out in a large, cushiony chair of sorts.
"Well? Where's that strip tease I was promised?"
> You quirk an eyebrow at him and grin. He's not getting off the hook, no sir.
> Nervously??? pick up a grub and nibble on its tsuh. It angrily squeaks at you and smacks you with its legs.
> NOPE NOPE NOPE YOU'RE NOT DOING THIS.
