Welcome to Gaia! ::

Before? What was so wrong with now? Christof sighed, scratching at the shoulder, but frowned. It felt... different. Great. He shifted to unbutton his shirt, pulling it and his vest away from his smaller shoulder to try to take a look. As he flipped his scarf out of the way as well, his suspicions were confirmed- the mark had become larger, enveloping his shoulder more. Well... it was going to be there a little while longer. No biggie. At least this time it was with the promise of actual INVENTING. Whenever the Sloth was ready.

The hunchback frowned in confusion before glancing down, as though expecting to see a spider or something equally alarming but no, just his- OH! He wove a hand dismissively, hurriedly buttoning his shirt up again. Instead he glanced away, crouching to dig through the piles of junk- he knew there was a typewriter in there somewhere, he had seen it when tidying last time.

The hunchback shifted, looking wary as he debated how to answer that loaded question. Technically, he had three: Master Barth's, Mistress Riley's and... well, the point to the third was that he couldn't talk about the third, and so there really was no reason to tell Master Barth about it right? He looked conflicted a moment before hesitantly lifting up two fingers. You had to be honest with your master. If he had danced around the question it would have been more obvious than his actual lie. Inside his mouth was itching.

Again there was that hesitation as Christof debated his options. His Master had asked him, but by nature you weren't supposed to betray a Master- this being Riley, and he wasn't sure if she wanted to keep their pact a secret or not. She was far too invested in their new project to NOT keep up with it though and... and it was just Barth, right? He was... mostly harmless. He found the typewriter, finally, under an ironing board with a singe on it and a box of sneakers. Where had he gotten a box of sneakers? Barth didn't even WEAR sneakers. Maybe that was the point. He hefted it over the typewriter over to land on Barth's coffee table with a loud thunk before raising his hands to his head to wriggle his fingers like tentacles.

Christof's palm went to his forehead.

Fine.

Fine, lazy Master.

He grabbed a piece of paper from his notebook, ramming it into the typewriter before carefully, and slowly punching out a name.

The Igor sighed with relief. Now THAT sounded more like it. He stood, immediately going to where he had carefully left the tool box.... only to find. It had moved. Hell's Bells. It took another few minutes of rummaging before he found it ON THE OPPOSITE SIDE OF THE ROOM from where he had left it. How did Barth MANAGE with all this mess? He'd have to do something about it before he left. He dragged it back, landing the large heavy thing down next to the typewriter, just happy for the change of subject.

Now that piqued the Igor's interest, eyes widening with wonder. Make... one of the zooming boxes? How could he do that? He supposed there was enough to work from in Halloween but.... wow. Oh wow! He almost forgot about the containment box for Amrita. Almost. Carrots? Pfft. Carrots were nothing, and fiiiine, he wove a hand to show he'd leave Colette alone. For now. So long as it was HIM helping with the metal zooming box and not HER. Diligently he snatched up the forms, feeding them into the type writer before waiting expectantly, his mind filled with race cars.