Welcome to Gaia! ::

After trying various booths, he was starting to feel a bit worn out from all the activity going on around him. He was having fun! He was! But he needed a bit of a breather. So seeing the area with pillows and plush furniture was a welcome occurrence. Seeing the roll of tickets, he reached for one out of curiosity. Pulling it off, he tucked it in his pocket and picked a chair that was a bit out of the way to spread his frame out on. Inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He was just going to rest a moment.

Shiki snuck up on a big fluffy pillow, his tails flicking as he eyed it. So soft, he could just snuggle up into it and sleep. Oh tickets. He noticed they were just on a roll sitting where he could take one.

Taking the ticket Shiki turned back to the pillows, choosing one that he could actually climb into and nearly vanish. How lovely.

Llyr decided that this was a very nice booth indeed and drifted in looking both vague and pleasantly sleepy as he wandered barefoot towards the ticket roll. He reached out, in a sort of absent way, looking instead at the boil slumped on the couch rather than the ticket reel itself, eyes sliding over the rather dazzling flower on the lapel of his coat before they reached his face.

"You are very pretty," said Llyr cheerfully to him, completely casually, as though he routinely told people they were pretty (spoiler: he did), as he tore off a ticket. "This is a very nice booth."

Christof, meanwhile, was left feeling somewhat unnerved by the booth. He had helped out NAP Club countless times, out of due diligence to his friend and not-really Master. As an Igor, being idle for too long sent waves of anxiety from toes to hunched back, and so, milling about the booth, he made himself busy by cleaning up candy wrappers, torn tickets, making sure the pillows remained properly stacked, and anything else he could find to keep himself occupied.

It was a difficult matter. Barth was very thorough at making sure things took as little effort as possible.

Christof flinched, but not quick enough as the pillow suddenly crashed into the back of his head, and the hunchback whirled around with an enraged grunt through his stitched lips to find the culprit- only to spot Zar. Alright, so the demon was one of Barth's prized associates. He'd have to behave himself.

Keeping stern and narrowed eye contact on the paperwork succubus, Christof picked up the pillow and angrily stuffed it onto one of the piles willy nilly.

"You pulled too hard!" The ghoul exclaimed, playfully slapping her brother's arm before being pulled into a hug.

"Nap. No more talking."

Hollandaise had probably eaten too much food. She let out a small yawn as she wandered between booths. The press of people was heavy as well, and Hollandaise's ever-constant dragony shadow was tiring. It was enough to make a ghoul just go find some small patch of grass and never move again. The Warder desperately needed a warm, sunny spot to recharge in. Unfortunately, sunny and warm were not top concerns for Amityville. She creaked out a sigh and wrapped her arms around her middle. If she ever enrolled, she wondered how they would react to guerilla gardening. Smiling, she imagined patches of flowers, sweet, green grass, small trees suddenly appearing in the bare corners of the grounds.

And then the ground suddenly felt squishy. Hollandaise squeaked and looked down, breaking out of her thoughts. Blankets, pillows, cushioned sofas littered this area of the carnival grounds. It was as if this all were conjured by her need for a nap. Blinking, she wandered up to the actual booth, careful not to step on the relaxing creeple. She pulled on the ticket roll steadily, careful not to rip it. Turning to Des, she gestured at the heaps of cushions around them. She liked this booth already, although still... there was nothing green or growing. "Deszeld, are you tired?" Hollandaise was, but she wasn't sure she wanted to admit to it.

"Lay down?" She sank to the ground and carefully, carefully arranged the pillows just so. Optimal comfort. Hollandaise figured Des would lay as well; she was growing used to the other girl and maybe they could be friends - as long as the dragon ghoul learned to be a little less overbearing. If not, Hollandaise would try to change her. Somehow. Maybe. She yawned and rested her head on a particularly fat, forest green pillow. She pushed a pillow at Des.

Zar's very shape seemed to waver uncertainly as Christof moved another pillow. He was deliberately goading him into a fight, deliberately! It was simply inexcusable in every way, completely uncivilised, completely impolite. When Calder had wandered into his room and made a mess it had been traumatic enough, but Calder did it beacause he was Calder and mess seemed to simply be a by-product of him being present anywhere at all. This though. This was the callous action of someone who wanted a war.

The Incubus slowly - every step a sinuous hip sway where his hooves might as well have been stiletto heels - made his way over to the Igor, eyes down to mere slits. His tail bunched behind him, an S shape of potential energy.

"No. Bad Igor." he said, and punted the neat heap Christof had just added to.