#buzz-tow

What did it mean, to be human?

He was laughing as she spun around and stepped up on the bar, just out of reach with her arms raised and her posturing on-point.

Anons were in the apartment. Again.

At least they weren't throwing anything around or doing anything more annoying than speaking a little louder than necessary. That was something, right? Clara sidestepped one of the faceless beings to open the fridge. "What did you get him?" It asked excitedly. Clara thought it sounded excited, anyway. It was a little difficult to tell what someone was feeling when they lacked facial expressions. "None of your business." The witch grabbed a couple soda cans before turning to leave the kitchen. Hopefully the overly curious pest would stay behind and ask the toaster oven what its favorite color was instead of following the somewhat annoyed witch into the living room. 

"You should have the place fumigated." She sighed, flopping onto the couch. "There's gotta be a place around town somewhere that deals with them. If not, we should start one. We'd make a killing. Catch." She tossed a soda can towards the cyborg before popping the top of her own. She could imagine her anon pest control business now. 'Clara and company. We catch 'em so you don't have to throw them out the window anymore.' The catchphrase needed a little work. She'd think about it more later. 

     It was a nice day, for the most part. The skies were clear enough and no one in the immediate vicinity seemed to be making evil plans. None that affected the boggart's afternoon anyway. It had been nearly a week since the boggart had left the safety of the apartment. Though safety was all relative lately it seemed. Since the isle had been trampled and left for dead, the boggart had been left disillusioned as to whether any place was truly safe. Perhaps he was just as safe on the street as he was living with his fellow boggart. He was strong enough to fight off any threats that came his way. Or, at least, self-confidence had been deeply instilled within him as a child, so he now believed he could. Whether it was true or not was for any future circumstances to determine. Either way, he had to admit that it had been nice living with a roof over his head again. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to take real showers everyday, with hot water. He'd even come to miss the lumpy living room couch, which he now looked back on as a king's throne compared to the paint chipped bench he now called a bed. The place had either been heaven or hell. He couldn't decide which. At the time it had been like a retreat, but now he saw that it had only given him things he would be forced to go without once he returned to a life of wandering. They were trivial things really, but he did miss them. Breakfast every morning. A warm blanket. A smile to greet you home. Home. The word itself left a ringing in his ears. It wasn't home though.This was home. The mountain town was home. The isle as a whole was home. No one building was home. No one apartment. No matter how nice it had been to think of it as such.

/lays across everyone

/gobbles up yummy things and possibly Caity's hand