#marxwandersaround

Featuring: @roskaarotta @bushido-jack @ghostbustingreen @dreamybandee @gentletwin @marxwandersaround & @frimaerke

//Shinji contemplates his pretty princess role while two fucking gremlins are arguing over if the orb should marry Shinji.

-Marx stands at the river side, a fishing pole in his mouth, on the quest for fish.  Marx would alternate between using his wing claws and using his mouth to hold the fishing pole, neither were great options. It was a little difficult to fish with your mouth but the jester made it work.

He makes a sort of whiny grumble around the fishing pole in his mouth. The jester is beginning to think he was better off diving for fish when he feels a tug on the line. Jerking himself back Marx quickly bites down harder on the pole. His wings come out and he hops up into the air. Pulling the fish up with him and the jester sets the catch a decent distance away from the water.

Proud with his catch Marx giggles happily. He had a nice snack! The fish was actually pretty big as he got closer to it. It could potentially serve two people...Marx wasn’t into sharing though. However, maybe it could be seasoned by someone?

Magolor seemed happy when he saw that the jester picked a lot of food like he said. He would feel pretty bad if he didn’t have any food to give to the jester during their trip.

The wizard blinked a few time when Marx mentioned his sleep. He did sleep a little... Probably not enough but he did. Does his tiredness was that visible?

Motho couldn’t really pick many things he disliked these days, getting a new lease on life tends to shift perspectives quite drastically. But this freezing cold that sank into his core, he could very much do without. Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t be here, he wouldn’t have woken up laying face down in the middle of a tundra. He wouldn’t be nearly frozen solid either.

But of course, circumstances were not normal, and here he was.

Given the time, he could have prepared for the cold, and this wouldn’t have been an issue. Not having that at the moment, he instead flaps his wings. Rather weakly actually. The movement would produce some heat to the puff, and hopefully attract some help if it was nearby. He couldn’t hear anyone around though, or maybe his ears were frozen. He was well and alone, away from his home and friends.

The thought of changing into a much smaller insect occurred to him, but was dismissed pretty quickly. He’d be blown away by the wind and freeze even faster.

And after all, that tactic had gotten him into this mess in the first place.

It was a windy day on Dreamland, the kind of day where nobody dares to fly unless they’re really skilled or really dumb. Despite this, Gryll was flying on their broom, without a care. The witch was literally defying the wind, for some reasons. But, unfortunately, they’re not skilled enough to fly against the wind.

The scarlet magician lazily hummed to himself upon his tree-branch perch. It was another gorgeous day in Dreamland, the perfect kind for doing absolutely nothing. A soft breeze fluttered through the air, carrying tiny wisps of dandelion seeds through the air. All-in-all, overtly peaceful, as it should have been.

And that’s when he heard it. A distant yet significant honk.