~Tsukuribanashi-Yuniko~ Change is in the Air

What's your favorite Yuni type?

Light	8.2%	[ 19 ]
Kurai	17.6%	[ 41 ]
Deity / Demi-Deity	11.6%	[ 27 ]
Seraphim	12.0%	[ 28 ]
Pegasus	6.0%	[ 14 ]
Aquatic	9.4%	[ 22 ]
Elementals (Fire, Plant, Etc.)	13.7%	[ 32 ]
Halfbreed	15.0%	[ 35 ]
Butterfly	6.4%	[ 15 ]
Total Votes:			[ 233 ]

[Syrcaid]

(( *kidnaps Quick*

I'd check my inventory, but I don't know what the quest reward was supposed to be. XDD ))

Sterling helped himself to smelling the top of Hugo's head. "Hmm, needs a little less sweet stuff in it. A little overpowering, I think," he commented. "I figured it was something like that."

He turned and stretched out his legs over the side of the bed. Nothing creaked or cracked, to his astonishment. His old bed was so small that he had to cram himself to fit and each morning he'd wake up with something bruised or scratched or cracking from being in the same position all night. Daybeds were the worst things in all creation when your feet hung off the edge.

"I'll go get them, a hot shower first sounds heavenly," he said. "I'd love a bath, but I don't fit in any of the tubs without my knees to my chin."

Why exactly he was confessing so much information freely, he wasn't sure. Perhaps it was because he was still drowsy, he wasn't clever or alert enough to find any other excuse for that. Were he being clever, perhaps it would have been to see how Hugo would react to an embarrassing confession. But he wasn't being clever, he was simply being honest.

[Quicksilver the Archangel]

[*IS KIDNAPPED, OMG!*]

[Sukkubus]

(( Ohlawd, we had a Disney movie thing... which is continuing tomorrow. 8D ))

Hugo bumped his head against Sterling’s nose, glowering at him, “You make it sound like I made a mess of a recipe. I'm not a dessert. I smell fine.”

He watched the Kurai’s back, distracted himself with the dark spines jutting from his skin, tame. He could be great, a voice had said. It echoed, grew and expanded like ripples in water till he pushed himself up onto an elbow, hoping stimulation would help him to forget the way it rattled in his head. Who had ever heard of being haunted by a new memory?

“No,” he said suddenly. “I... will get them. It's okay.”

Hugo slid across the sheets and propped himself up on his knees. Touching, he thought as he pressed his cheek to Sterling’s shoulder, hands gliding up his back, was like reaffirming your existence. Staking claim on your sanity. It was a way to hide, and there was plenty Sterling to hide against. He didn't care if he smelt like a box of horribly made cookies, and he didn't care if Sterling cared.

“Go take a nice, long shower. It'll wake you u-...” Hugo trailed off. He could see the Kurai crammed into the bathtub in his mind’s eye, miserable and grumpy, using the shower arm to wet his hair. There was an awkward pause, wherein the Light thanked the heavens his face was hidden.

“Thank you. I will be carrying that image with me for the rest of my life.”

[Syrcaid]

(( Gah, I woke up at noon. I didn't even stay up that late, I just like sleeping. D: I didn't used to sleep so much, I've evolved into a lazy bum. ))

"Then my work here is done," Sterling laughed, looking over his shoulder at Hugo. "Oh, but you are a dessert. Don't be so hard on yourself, Hugo, you'd make an excellent little tart with some work."

With another heave, he was up and on his way to the shower. If he could remember that he wasn't in his old room and in the new one. It took him a moment of standing in place and looking around to remember it all and remap things in his head. As thick skulled as he was in some things, remembering where things were in the house seemed to come naturally so long as he knew where certain "landmarks" were.

Go past the hideous faux Chinese vase with the silk bamboo that's in desperate need of dusting, then there's the nice painting with the frame that doesn't match quite right, and into this hall... Dear lord, am I turning into an interior decorator out of OCD or to keep from going mad?

In moments, he was watching freezing water slowly turn to hot from the standing shower in the bathroom. The bathroom, it seemed, was strangely decorated as well. Modern mechanisms with Victorian decorations, he sat on the lid of the toilet inspecting the mismatched towels.

"Hmm, they're both marked 'His'," he noted. Though one had the "H" partially removed as though someone was picking off the threading from time to time.

[Sukkubus]

(( Lmao, aww! Same here, but I crashed at four. >o> I also fell asleep on my text book just now. Isn’t sleep fun? 8D ))

Hugo swiped the air in Sterling’s wake, scowling, “I'd be certain to make myself your last meal!"

After Sterling had exited the room, Hugo counted back from thirty before sliding from the bed himself as soon as he got to fifteen. Once he was outside with the sound of running water muffled by distance and walls, he began down the hall. Suddenly with a door separating Sterling from him, unease was creeping underneath his skin and coiling in his palms, cold and clammy. Oh, he was just getting some stuff! The box wouldn’t even be in his way! It was a stupid, stupid skull.

A stupid, stupid, talking, patronizing skull!

Hugo grumped and shoved the old door open, but did not cross the threshold. He could see James - well, his crate - from where he stood, and knots began to fasten themselves in his stomach. It couldn’t do anything, he told himself. It was just a stupid box. As he soothed himself with wordless mantras, he stole into the room and began piling all of Sterling’s items in his arms. But what about James?

What about him? He cut his eyes across the floor, saw a flash of bone-white peeking from above the crate-walls. His arms and shoulders began to cramp. He suddenly didn’t want Sterling to know that he had looked at him, especially when he was positioned haphazardly in the middle of the floor. So steeling himself against his own fear (and not looking down at the hideous thing), he scooted the box across the floor and all but punted it beneath the bed again. Not even bothering to check that the skirt of the daybed had been pulled back over it, or if it was all the way under for that matter, he darted from the room and bolted down the hall again, face buried in things that smelt decidedly Sterling-ish.

[Syrcaid]

Sterling had to crouch a bit for the shower to even reach the top of his head. A removable shower head would be nice, he thought. This place wasn't every accommodating for tall people save for the beds and doorways. Maybe this place was built in an age of miniatures.

He gave a grunt and smirked, reaching for a bottle of some miscellaneous shampoo, he pictured little piss ants like Nevan roaming the world. Accountants and philatelists, little pale things with enormous glasses and pocket protectors. Then again, Hugo's position in that kind of world would probably be... that annoying secretary who was always on the phone with the chewing gum and the nail file. Sterling pictured Hugo's hair in a beehive and guffawed alone in the shower.

Sterling inspected the shampoo bottle at long last, even as he was rubbing into his beard and mane he hadn't really gotten a look at it.

"Strawberry Spring Delight," he read out loud. "Great, I'll smell like a parfait out in the sun."

[Foalen]

((I am alive I swear. XD Just very busy. Pings luffs on the thread. heart ))

[Sukkubus]

(( *Snugs Foalen~*

The idea of Hugo with a beehive… or in that scene in its entirety makes me lol far too much. xD Probably because he would so be the annoying secretary. Also, your sig. dramallama

P. S. Swear to gahd, you hinted at waves with Sterling in that one doodle and I went absolutely crazy with it in this doodle. >o>; ihaveawavycurlyhairfetish. ))

Hugo looked very self satisfied after he had dumped Sterling’s stuff onto the bed. So what if the few books he had nabbed had flopped open, pages bent because of the weight of the tousled blanket on top of them? Or if the clothing he had plucked from the hangers would have been more comfortable in the closet. Nope, standing there with his fists propped on his hips, the small Light was pleased with himself!

A book slipped from beneath the mountainous pile and hit the floor. Okay, maybe he could at least separate them all.

He really didn’t have the patience to fold the blanket just yet, so he gathered the books up and stacked them side-by-side across the bookshelf. Treating the bed like an inflatable slide, he bounced off and hit the floor with a ‘thump’. Not exactly his choice way of landing, but…. He dragged out a sweater and shook it out, holding it at arm’s length.

Good heavens was it enormous! Curious as ever, Hugo felt his way across the expanse of the knitted pullover, poking his fingers through the holes in the back. Right! For his spines! It was like a circus tent compared to the things he was forced in to. At least, that’s what he assumed. He cast a quick look behind him, tilted his ears towards the door, and figuring Sterling was still in the shower, tugged the sweater over his head. He was promptly devoured by cotton and yarn.

[Syrcaid]

(( Maybe Sterling should have sent kittens to get his stuff! D:!! LoL!! I wanna see your doodle! ))

Sterling tousled his hair into a larger body towel. Those little "His" things wouldn't do the job, that's for sure. He got to thinking if there was a washroom around here, having never seen a washer or a dryer anywhere nearby. He figured he'd dry off enough first, fetch a flashlight and pull on something warm to go looking for several things.

He'd look for an attic, a laundry room, and if there was a downstairs basement or unfinished pantry. This place was livable, but in need of maintaining. No one had seemed to volunteer their services, perhaps because they were off living elsewhere.

Out of curiosity he went into his old room to see if Hugo actually remembered to get his things. Sterling opened the door to his old room and thought he could smell that faint hint of Hugo's shampoo in there. He walked in and looked around. Things were definitely sorted through, but something seemed amiss. Sterling walked to the bed and saw the telltale marks of damp hair on dark covers and.... he crouched down and reached under the bed.

"James, you old scoundrel, how'd you get so far back?" Sterling muttered.

He kicked me, that's how, James replied.

"You had it coming, probably," Sterling said simply. "Go to sleep until I call you."

The skull mote could not retort, he simply stopped talking as Sterling took the box out and wandered towards his new room. Telling him to shut up usually kept him quiet for ages on end, which is just how Sterling preferred it. Talking to James always got him thinking and that kind of thinking got him into trouble.

[Sukkubus]

(( Kittens would have handled it better!! <o<

omgnowi’membarrassed. 8D;; Let me scan it. The problem with me is that I doodle all over pages, so… there’s usually more than one picture on a piece of paper. *cropcropcrop!* and pencil smudges. and. *excuses.* ._. I also drew a very angry looking Hugo. neutral ))

Hugo gave his arms several experimental flaps. At the length that hung from his own arms, if he flapped hard enough, maybe he could fly. It was a funny thought to entertain, wings - if he had them, would he ever come down?

Probably, he thought as he gathered the rest of Sterling’s things, doing a surprisingly good job at sorting them. Flying seems like it requires an awful lot of hard work. He stuck his tongue out at the idea, grabbing the corners of the blanket and dragging it off the bed.

He hated folding blankets. Hugo’s belief was that all blankets belong on beds, thoroughly reigned and tucked away by mattresses and pillows. This whole free-living blanket deal was ridiculous; they never seemed to fold just right! Shaking his hands from within the depth of the sweater’s sleeves, he held onto two corners of the throw and stared at it. He gave a petulant whine that sounded suspiciously like ‘Sterling can do it’ and climbed back onto the bed, curling into a lump beneath the blanket instead.

[Syrcaid]

(( Kittens would probably end up in that big sweater, too! D: ))

Sterling didn't announce himself right away, content to watch Hugo be a maid. A maid in his sweater. Somehow that seemed attractive, a little housemaid in his sweater doing tasks he'd normally do... He realized he was grinning rather broadly and wiped his face with the towel as though it would wipe away the grin.

"You forgot something," Sterling chuckled. "Did this knucklehead give you any trouble?"

He looked around for a good place to put James. Sterling discovered the closet was rather spacious and almost tall enough for him to stand in. Noting the top shelf, he slid James up into it and left the doors open. The skull would stay quiet until spoken to, thankfully.

He didn't mention the sweater.

[Sukkubus]

(( omg, but it’d be so cute. 8D although they’d probably mess up the yarn with their tiny, kitty claws. dastardly!

sterling omg don't judge meee. i imagine this is the face he makes when hugo has just said something that makes absolutely no sense. D:

hugo when he doesn't get his way. ))

Hugo issued a small noise and poked his head out from beneath the blanket. He would have leapt from beneath the covers had he not seen the box in Sterling’s arms. That alone made him push back again, whatever had been poised on his lips swallowed in lieu of the skull’s reemergence. He watched Sterling cross the room to set James in the closet, and it wasn’t until he was safely tucked against the shelf did he creep out from underneath the covers; he had the inside of the sweater’s sleeves balled in his small hands.

“I must have overlooked it,” he said slowly, as if tasting the words. He considered Sterling’s question, eyes fastened to the closet as he slipped off of the bed, “Well... no. Not really. There isn't much a skull can do.”

He was lying, sure, but he didn’t exactly want to bring up what James had said, not until he had figured it out himself. Or until they weren’t in the same room as the hideous thing. It was difficult, remaining calm. Especially when you couldn’t differentiate whether it was the presence of some menace harassing you or the holes marching up the back of a sweater that caused the chill.

[Syrcaid]

(( But those pics are awesome!! X3 <333 ))

Sterling didn't press the issue, figuring James must still creep Hugo out. He tugged at his sweater, grinning.

"Cozy enough?" he asked. "I need that if I'm gonna find the attic and the laundry room and if we're lucky there might even be a basement. I suppose I can wear my other sweater... if I can find it."

Sterling thought Hugo looked a bit of an apprentice in training, not yet grown for his attire. Who'd train under Sterling? Certainly not Hugo, that's for sure. What sort of things would Sterling train people in, anyhow? Ideas went through his head as he sifted through his clothing for his other sweater.

[Sukkubus]

(( ;O; thank you. heart ))

“Oh! Yes, very. I suppose I never noticed how big you are,” he said, pulling out the bottom edge of the sweater. “I wanted to measure it myself! Guess I forgot it was on.”

He was glad that Sterling said nothing more about James, considering it was the last thing he wanted to talk about. Instead, he busied himself with looking over the sweater before slipping an arm out of the sleeve.

“Well, if you need it....” He paused and turned, bringing his shoulder up as he tried to peer down his back, “I suppose your spines don't get cold. It's awfully drafty.” Lips tugging to the side of his face, he twitched his tail, which was snagged against the bottom of the sweater as well. This thing was big enough for him to get lost in.

“Oh, eugh. What's so lucky about a basement? It's modern day's equivalent to a dungeon.” He shuddered.

[Syrcaid]

(( Can I color them? X3 <33 ))

"Ooooh, I hope so," Sterling murred darkly. "Holding prisoners would be something. But I suspect all we'll find are old things in boxes and more cobwebs than you know what to do with."

He couldn't imagine a place this... cozy would have a dungeon or even a laboratory for mad creations and implements of torture. That didn't seem to fit this place and that kind of paraphernalia was better left for horror films. That didn't seem to match the place and there were no signs of something like that. Ghosts were more romantic of an idea to Sterling, capturing spirits to do his bidding always seemed like something worth pursuing had he the time or the means. The idea seemed to send shards of ice and fear through Hugo and Sterling couldn't quite see why. Perhaps it was the Kurai in him that felt it were an opportunity instead of an obstacle. Perhaps it was because he was young and full of new ideas.

Some days he wished he had a Master, someone to be a mentor to teach him things but it was clear that right now they were on their own in many aspects.