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TG wanted to gag. The hugging moment really was sickening, and all over a ratty cape? Sure...it looked warm, but it looked rather...Jack it! I did look warm. He guessed he'd understand, but it seemed a bunch of tears were enough to make the big lug get away with near murder. He watched, cringing as the massive boil bawled against his beauty. "Nothing wrong with a bit of passion. It's murder that tends to stretch it a bit, Sugar."

Then he looked back to the interloping boil that came up to interview his babe. "You don't need eyes to call up a dry cleaner." He pointed out, before looking back at the viking couple.

"That will be a pain though." As a fellow fur wearer, he did sympathize, but he doubted that the clump of fur was nearly as much as his jacket.

It was then that the Reaper came up to them and apologized. "Your little pet nearly tore down the entire store. If it can't behave, it should be dismissed or on a leash." He grumbled, in no way caring for the apology. Yellow eyes narrowed up at the boil. "Preferably a choke chain."

Ah, the little imp from before! "That much is understood," Vero stated with a small nod. "We assumed this would be done directly according to her diction. Still, we are curious . . ." Large dark eyes peered at the several feet of distance between them and the ghoul's face. "The mask gives the illusion of punctured holes, punctuated by supporting themes of spikes in arms. Is it magic, or the result of such different heights between us? Or perhaps something else entirely . . .?" It was like he was speaking of the ghoul like she was a painting to be observed, analyzed.

"You may." Zee answered back easily, letting her fingers slide free from his collar. "Are you often successful in your pursuits of the flesh?" She asked curiously, flicking through stacks and piles of panties.

"No offense, but you're rather rough around the edges. Unrefined. Rude." She giggled, pulling up a few pairs of underwear and flicking them at the boil.

TG was not going to be lectured by some idiot reaper, and he narrowed his eyes even more, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for the boil to finish. "Are you done?" He asked, before taking the silence as a indication he could start.

"I don't know who to feel worse for. The cat or you. You're a perfect fit for being a pair of idiots. Not only is your familiar untrained that it ran off without your supervision, but you allowed it to just run around as it pleased. A reaper who can't even control it's familiar is pathetic. As for that flame ball there." He looked at it with a raising, thick eyebrow. "I have matches that produce larger blazes. Do I look like I'd mind the heat?" To which he opened his arms and shook them to demonstrate his VERY thick jacket. He'd be happy for the warmth. "So unless you intent to start a burn barrel to warm my hands, how about you take your gunky cat and ooze off or do you need Deam Boat over there to continue where he left off?"

"I have been." He answered almost immediately with a grin that exposed his elongated canines. Truth be told they were some drunk floozies who didn't care what diarrhea spewed fourth from his gaping mouth hole, but that was beside the point. Often, though?

No. No that wasn't the case. He decided to withhold that information, however. "So you know I'm experienced." He cooed the word at her... And received a pair of panties to the face. Then another. And another. And, oh would you look at that? One pair landed on his head like a misshapen horse shoe. The little miscolored 'horn' locks stood out from each leg hole... Leaving him looking very much like some sick pervert who had come in to wear women's lingerie. "Oh, you wound me with your callous words." The boil mumbled sarcastically, his creepy eyes now covered with a lacy material. "I take it that fact doesn't turn you off from the way you just giggled. Amirite?"

Herryk sent a seething glare at the red-haired boil before turning his attention back to Freya and Lattice. Well, mostly Freya, since Lattice currently had a small harem of boils surrounding her.

"Herryk does not know. After Sura dragged Tits away, Herryk stormed out. It was .. the middle of the play, and Chuppi was upset so by this time everyone was vomiting -- and then Hel started to sing just as Herryk walked out of the theater." Herryk snorted.

"Herryk hopes that Tits wept, very much. Herryk still wishes to punch Tits, but ... Herryk might already be in trouble after disrupting the play, so Herryk does not want to press his luck."

That being said, Herryk shot a glance at the little red thing that had seemed so upset at the affection that Herryk had shown Freya. Lifting a brow, Herryk jerked his chin forward.

"What is that little man?"

Oho~ Experienced. Zee licked her lips and spared the boil a glanced.

"You'd be right. I happen to appreciate..um.. honesty." She said with a slick smile. "Mind games, the thrill of the chase.. so tiring, really." The ghoul yawned as if to emphasize just how much work it all was. "I don't like having to work for what I want."

She sashayed over to the boil, hanging a G-string off of his ear. "Bras next. Then I'll take you to any store you want. I feel like buying you a present~." She coo'd darkly, tracing a finger along his jaw line before slowly sliding toward the bras.



Siobhan was pouting. With big wobbly eyes of sad.

"O-Oh..." The ghoul fidgeted with her long dress, looking around anxiously. "W-what music do you enjoy? Anything.. that... is...uh..." Her white eyes fixated on where her feet probably were under the long dress. "L-loud?" Siobhan likes loud music.

Loves it.

((Elden is a Quest))

The adventures through the Maul were proving to be much less entertaining than the demon had first thought. Not that Elden had high hopes for the place, and in fact he sort of dreaded the thought of it, but still.. He needed to roam and frolic and investigate like the annoying, nosy gnat that he was.

.. perhaps later. After.. a nap.

The boil had calmed significantly in his new position, the momentum dying just as drastically as his adrenaline seemed to be. His eyes were starting to shut ever so slowly, his mouth falling ajar while drool seeped from its corners..

Wait a minute. Was he even breathing?

For the unfortunate two who had to suffer his presence, the silence was probably all too welcomed; even if it would come at the Spriggan's discomfort. HE would sooner pass out than get the opportunity to tackle the canine!

Because rough-housing with wolves was totally a norm for the tiny elven folk. Totally.

OnionGrump

LividPeas