#megxlo

Maybe he can read your miiiiiiiiiiiind.

Oooh, therapy! Look at you!

As luck would have it, it’s grocery day, and Teddy’s out of the house. 

As fate would have it, there’s a single ring of the doorbell, and as the Fae waits, he finds himself begrudgingly appreciating what the dragon’s done with his small property. Rather than one of those godawful manicured lawns the humans so enjoy having, it’s a small haven of wildlife, and among the chatter, he can hear Rani having an argument with one of the established crows. 

...Uh. When did you get here?

Grigori looks up from his almost aggressive sketching, his expression only slightly irritated.

Um. What are you looking at?

“Ah- I apologize. I can’t help staring a bit when I spot a phenomenon I’ve never seen before. Excuse my manners. You may call me Death.”

@megxlo​

@lostinbloomx​

@khasmc​

@guidesdead​

@mulholland​

“How much do you think you know?” The question itself was jarring, seemingly coming out of nowhere, but not nearly as jarring as the voice that says it. She sounds like a machine; mechanical, each word properly annunciated and spoken with purpose. It’s hard to tell if the woman before then was something new, wires and metal hiding beneath her skin, or something so old it could only mimic humanity; in this case, Iona leans towards the latter. 

Sissel eyes Jean up and down.

He feels a kinship with this person.