#mpxzico

Your muse wants to build a snowman and make snow angels, however my muse is feeling cold and tries to convince yours to stay inside.

"Snow at night is... pretty."

Bes isn't sure if it's the voicing of a truth, or a flimsy excuse. He's not sure what they're playing at either, only sure of one thing, really: the man before him is not the type of man who seems fond of games.

Was it coincidence that both Set and Akbul held jobs here? Had to be. The demigod hadn't even realized what kind of establishment it was until he'd been greeted by the receptionist and explained that he was simply running an errand for Osiris- passing a package and nothing more. He had nothing against the work, just hadn't been exposed to a place like this before.

The whole exchange took only moments and he was on his way to the door, stopping just short when golden eyes happen to catch the gaze of a man he hadn't remembered standing in the lavish lobby moments ago. The door handle is a breath away, snow and wind kicking up suddenly as the heavy wood clicks back shut against it.

"Not too cold."

"You look very nice tonight, Boss. Did you have plans?"

It wasn't like Sombra Muerte was a fast paced place, but their late hours certainly catered to a specific clientele and by the time the sun was due to rise the number of guests has tapered off to no one at all. It was almost time for closing, in fact, so the chime of bells above the door startles Jinsoul from her homework. Hurriedly adopting a bright smile she greets the God as warmly as every other person who walks across the threshold, tilting her head with the intensity of her smile.

It takes a moment for her to even notice that, though usually dressed rather dapperly, the owner is looking especially sharp- all tailored sleeves and shiny jewelry. Maybe he'd had a date? The idea perks her interest and she wonders thoughtlessly what kind of gentleman or lady might keep Ah Puch's company. Probably someone smart and mysterious, just like him.

starter for @mpxzico ft phobetor & zico 

Gently rapping his knuckles against the wooden panel of the door, Phobetor lets it swing inward slowly with a gentle push, before letting a hand sling low in the pocket of his dark slacks, as he leans against the frame and watches the room’s inhabitant. Stood tall in one of Babylon’s many functional rooms, he observes the tall man’s head stooped as he slowly and methodically cleans the tools of his business. 

“Hi, Punchie-” Muzen’s face remains lit by a soft smile, as he breaths out a sort of sigh with his greeting. It felt like a piece slotting back into place, seeing his little brother again. He was such a young and impulsive god when they had first met, filled with the exuberance of youth that the centuries knock from you, or from most, not so much from the god of honey. Now to look at him, Muzen saw very little of the young god he’d known, in this tall, austere looking character, with long legs and fashionable looking shades. Yet, there was nothing too intimidating to stop Muzen, as his smile widens with his usual friendly aura. 

“My, look at you...” he hums, head gently tilting a little. “You look so cool!” He exclaims, almost giddy. Like an auntie praising a young teen on their first expression of individualism, whilst still being removed and quite clearly out of the loop. As Muzen was, dressed in his own well worn overalls of mottled green, with patches on the knees in bright, childish patterns where they had worn through and been mended from spare fabric, old t-shirts or blankets, and the sleeves rolled up to accommodate short arms. 

“Hm” humming in amusement, Phobetor remains nonchalantly propped by the elbow on the kitchen counter beside him, as he slowly swirls a good glass of red in the glass cradled between his fingers. “Good evening, dear bag of bones” he muses cheerfully, grin only widening before it disappears behind the edge of the glass and he takes a slow sip. 

“Old man. Hey, old man.”

When it becomes obvious that the shop owner in Sombra Muerte isn’t paying attention to her, Anise’s face falls into a decidedly unimpressed expression and she ambles over to the light switches in the shop. She would never do something so disrespectful as mess with the merchandise or make loud noises to get someone’s attention - hell, does she hate loud noises - but lights are always fair game as long as she doesn’t flicker them too fast. 

So she switches the lights on and off and on and off until finally Zico looks up at her with a glare of mild annoyance. Anise holds up a jar of something that looks decidedly slimy (she’ll have to wear gloves if she messes with these), though she’s not actually certain what it is. Which is the reason she had needed Zico’s attention in the first place.

@mpxzico continued from here:

Zico sat still as the pressure of another person resting their head on his settled in his mind. He was sat on his couch, reading an old book when he heard the door to his apartment open. He figured it was his maid dropping off his groceries and thought nothing of it until now. The god froze before quickly shifting and knocking whoever invaded his space off balance. Recognition of his friend did nothing to remedy the situation as he stood from his couch, something akin to a scowl on his usually emotionless features.

“What do you think you are doing Tohil?”

it’s been quite a while since last he saw his friend, and so tohil goes to meet him. that he is capable of just walking right in through the door says a lot about how safe the other god feels on a regular basis, and so he does what he knows very few others would even dare to attempt. he leans in over the back rest of the couch just enough to let his head come to rest atop that of his old friend.

for a long moment absolutely nothing happens, and then all of a sudden the other god shifts away. he moves down ever so slightly before regaining his equilibrium, and locks gazes with ah puch easily when the god turns to face him.

🌸

  He’s sitting alone in a tree just in front of the mochi shop, his eyes gazing out around the street but not really taking anything in. Eiji is just being lazy as he stays up there fingers plucking at pale white blossoms with pink centers to drop them down to the ground below. Most miss the wicker basket set out for them but it hardly matters- he’ll get them all when he wants to climb down later. Things he doesn’t give himself the time to worry about when he’s actively working inside flow freely over his mind now and so occupied is he with one particular musing that he doesn’t notice someone is coming closer until his nose detects them first.