"I'm headed t' the faire, daddy!" The Romero house had been alight with activity since early that morning, a blur of color, costumes, and energy as the denizens made haste to be prepared for the Renaissance Faire. It's Wren's voice carrying through the house that makes Mal appear again, his head sticking around the corner of his bedroom door, hands deftly working zippers and belts closed over a half-bared torso. "I'll see y'all there!"
"A'right darlin! Walk safe!" Duck insists, finishing up with his shirt, pulling the cape and armor on and into place over it, the hood tugged up over dark hair and the wicked visage of a wolf's skull grabbed from the dresser beside him. "Robin, buddy, you need help with anything?" He questions, stopping in the hallway until the young boy gives him a negative- that he's almost done, just finding the rest of his nerf darts. "Alright- remember, if you lose any a' them you're shit outta luck, kiddo." His next port of call is downstairs, towering frame appearing in the doorway of the bathroom- blacked out green eyes leveling on Z's gaze in the mirror. "And how're you comin' along there, darlin?"
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