#frestoniia

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Adnan Yücel

     » » @frestoniia , Craig is getting a rare chance to meet Aamon;

     ›› This exchange student was fascinating, to say the least. There was a desire to meet the boy in the flesh, to talk with him, gauge what he knew about the world he was studying, and to see where he could supplement any gaps in knowledge. After all, to speak with a demon who's seen it all would certainly bridge the gaps better than any book would. So he awaited the other patiently at a café the demon himself preferred, cup of coffee rested in his hands idly until he caught sight of his guest.

Send me a "♦" for the first word my muse thinks of when your muse is mentioned

right.. ingredients in hand, he isn't sure if he should hand them over, or just add them in and hope for the best. craig can probably sense his hesitance on doing anything with the information given, and mentions that he'd help guide him through what it was they were doing.

✿ Starter for @frestoniia ✿

✿*❀*✿

"You ca be so greedy sometimes."

Saguaro chuckled as he handed the bit of food to his pachirisu, which immediately snatched the treat away and climbed up onto his shoulder to eat it. It was such a beautiful day out that he couldn't help but go out to eat with his pokemon, and now they all surrounded him where he sat on one of the stone walls that rolled over and around Mesagoza. His sandwich was sitting in his lap, picked to pieces as he rationed it away to his partners and delighted in their reactions to him. He had made quite the picturesque little view without even realizing it, an image of peace and warmth.

So absorbed was in his team that he barely even noticed one of his students nearing him. It wasn't until Hatterene turned her head and gave an inquisitive trill that Saguaro pulled his attention from the Froslass pawing at the food in his lap. His face flushed with embarrassment (he had an image to maintain, after all), but Saguaro still offered Craig a smile and a small wave.

Papyrus would not have been caught dead in this old gin joint most nights, even though he found himself traversing the narrow, rickety stairway down into the basement speakeasy several days a week. Wingdings was as particular a man as he was demanding, and he had very specific times he expected his two younger brothers to return home. A curfew that Sans frequently ignored, which meant it fell to Papyrus to come collect him from the bar. 

After all, if he didn’t do it, Wingdings would do it. And in addition to being particular, and demanding, he also had a mean temper when his expectations were not met. Papyrus had followed him the last time. As the Don had strolled down the steps, he’d summoned a spectral hand just behind Sans’s back, grasping him by the collar, and yanking him clear off his stool. 

However, it was something Papyrus had noticed, as Wingdings was casually dragging Sans across the floor, that had brought him back tonight. A human, of all things, working the tables. Luciano’s bar was the preferred hotspot of most of the city’s monsterkind looking to indulge their vices--be it the imported liquor and jazz talent from Hotland, the gambling tables, or the fighting ring in the back--but never once had Papyrus seen a human here.

Wingdings had certainly noticed him too, because Wingdings noticed everything, but he had not said anything on the matter. It wasn’t a problem unless Wingdings said it was a problem, and Sans had shrugged off Papyrus’s questions saying that he was just some local kid, but Papyrus took that one with a grain of salt. Or a grain of mustard seed, as the case were. The middle Gaster brother was usually well into his jars by the time Papyrus arrived. 

By the following evening, Papyrus had convinced himself that it was in fact extremely necessary for him to investigate this new human hire properly, and that Wingdings would personally want him to ensure that they were not dealing with some fleshy crime boss’s spy.