#cajunspoons

The paints and pots at the back of this meager Theater art borne for a medical concern, with how crusted and cracked and broken that stink of old muck and fading colors. Roland pouts on his side of the stage, crossing his arms tightly; sulking, like an ill-fated chllde.

"How must I go on if I am not properly painted for my Role?" whines he, shaking his naked foot in anxiety within his crossed knee. The Theater is not neatly packed, a little o'er two dozen folks crammed into the wooden seating, but, 'tis his reputation as an actor with which dost Roland now woefully reside.

"Awww."

Fox leaned across the table and opened his mouth slowly, eyeing his handsome date. He couldn't bat those lashes any slower as he flicked his tongue, waiting to be served one of the delicious dumplings. He was so low, practically horizontal with the table and... insinuating the angle.

Continued from here.

She was perched atop an old light pole this time. The mystery how the rusty thing held her weight was more puzzling than how she got up there in the first place. Seeing him point to his mouth made her giggle and she quickly tore off another chunk, aiming squarely for his sharp mouth. Of course the bread was deliciously soft and just a little chewy...even still warm!

Cicero obviously had no intention to question Spoons' ways. After all, every time she did actually explain something it really just went right over his head. Bit beyond his pay grade he's afraid.

That's why Legion doesn't exactly give him the thinking jobs. Just the doing jobs.

As soon as a piece of bread lands in his mouth, fists fly into the air in celebration of victory. Teeth chewing the sinfully good bread. How was he supposed to go back to tack now?

Probably would break ya out of jail rather than bail, but yeah.

[ OG post ] @cajunspoons

@cajunspoons

Bottles were completely scattered in disarray, some piling up and others broken across granite as Raifer leaned over his personal bar counter, mumbling and slurring his words as he poorly attempted to take another drink from a mechanical arm working behind the counter. It remained out of his reach as it made various disapproving whirring noises at his efforts.

"One fuckin' more! That's all. It's my goddamn drinks! I bought those!" Raifer whined, slapping a hand across his chest. He gave it another failed try as he weakly lunges forward, only to fall backwards over the stool and to the floor. At least the floor was cooler to the touch than the counter was now. He shook his head as he began reaching into the inner pocket of his lounging robe. He shuffled around some, before retrieving some inhaler. Raifer lifted it to his mouth, but hesitated as his eyes focused on the glittering ceiling lights.

"Am I even happy right now? Is this the bastard everyone's tellin' me about?" With the press of the release, he breathed down gaseous contents fully. With a long sigh of relief, he shook his head, "That's the stuff. Yeah!"