#fifthfang

Send 🎼 for my muse to express their feelings about your muse through a song lyric  

“All hail the pioneers, rebels, and mutineers. Go forth*, and have no fear.”

*I refuse to believe, in spite of the official lyric video, that this is meant to be “go fourth,” as in between the third and fifth person XD

“Hmm, I suppose that would be either Jakob, Felicia, or Flora... However, neither one of them are present. We could just grab a bite at the Mess Hall, however I don’t know who’s on duty at the moment.“

“Hnn,” muttered the blob, and pulled the quilt a little closer. Legault had given himself decent odds that he could have avoided being discovered here. Apparently his oddsmaking skills were down, unlike his temperature.

Blast it. He hadn’t wanted to put Lucius out. The man had enough on his mind without dealing with a sick assassin, in Legault’s tired opinion.

The fresh air was welcome, though. He’d left the windows closed to cover his tracks, but since that had failed him, he might as well accept it. He shifted to a more upright position, propping his back against the wall and part of the ceiling, and unburied his nose from the depths of the covers.

He cracked an eye open when he heard footsteps on the attic stairs a second time, and lifted a weary hand in rueful greeting.

Lucius was not very good at getting just water. He returned to the attic with not only a pitcher and a cup, but a slice of toast and a small dish of applesauce. Who knew when Legault had last eaten?

“I thought you knew I had two rules in this house,” he said, setting the tray down on a nearby box. “No one is ever hungry, and no one is ever cold.” His expression softened as he reached out tentatively to feel the assassin’s forehead.

Oh no. He knows better than to take this bait...but he’s curious. Raven usually groans about Legault’s sense of humor, but Lucius inevitably giggles.

He’d have no memory of how he got here. Most didn’t. Death wouldn’t try to jog Legault’s memory. It may cause too much distress to his soul.

As Legault approached in the distance, Death faced towards him. His jaw dropped down mechanically and a plum of vapor rose from it. “You were played an unfair hand recently.” The words were slow and uneven in their sound.

Dinner had been lively, far more so than he was used to in Krakenburg and yet he didn't find that he minded it so terribly much. Raven’s cooking was certainly nothing short of tantalizing and any tomato based dish in his hand was nothing short of tantalizing. The leather pouch and elixers were still tucked beneath his arm when he returned to his room. 

The dark patch of fabric immediately catches his attention. He has to pause a moment; it wasn’t there before, and everyone had been at dinner. That left only one person capable of leaving it and evading Leo’s notice. 

It would seem somehow everyone found out what today was.

His expression was anything but displeased, picking up the fabric and unfolding it carefully. It takes a moment before the shape fully evident to decide what it was, but by the time he sees the rectangle he’s figured it out. It was different than his usual choice, but would better keep the unruly blond strands in place. The bead work was particularly impressive and especially sacaean in its style, which he was quickly finding rather to his taste.