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Posted: Tue Aug 26, 2014 5:34 pm
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AIM Log: TG: Red Sammy: Green
He hated being called to her room, to be invited in any way and be forced to go to her place. He would never visit a undead, but now he was being a guest to one. No, not a guest. A prisoner – one shackled by his own mistakes. He couldn't count how often he had spent just punching his pillowcase after she had left about the major errors he had made, OBVIOUS ERRORS, that even a scarling could have seen a mile away. He had been too excited. Too eager, and now he was paying for it.
And now he was here, looking up at the door to the undead's dumb room. The only upside was that, despite how much he didn't want her here, her room being in the demon dorms meant he didn't have to walk all the way to that awful hole that was the undead dorms and didn't have to sully himself going inside it.
Adjusting his jacket closer, as he heard undeads liked the cold, he gave a light knock on the door in hopes she wouldn't hear it and he could go back home.
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Posted: Tue Aug 26, 2014 5:41 pm
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Posted: Tue Aug 26, 2014 6:04 pm
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He didn't want to open the door but after a minute, the door moved open to show the small imp pushing it forward. "You're not a great host." He complained, pointing out she made him open the door. "You know you're supposed to open the door for people." He said, as if she didn't know this and was never educated on hosting for anyone, which is what he guessed. Aside from this dorm, he just assumed she lived in some grave or under a bridge, begging for scraps and spare earlobes.
Shutting the door, he looked around, noticing the desk but walking a few steps past it to look at her room. In comparison to a lot of demon dorms, it was overly simple. It wasn't filled to the brim with furniture, lavish rugs, and family heirlooms brought on for the road to remind anyone of their family obligations and bloodline. That wasn't to say it wasn't what he excepted of a undead either. There was no dirt, no random body parts throw about on the floor, and no tattered rags hanging from the ceiling. It was just rather bland, even for a ghoul. There were no feminine touches such as plush minipets or posters and magazine centerfolds of boils (or in her case, ghouls) hanging on the wall. It had the necessities to sleep and study. The only thing he could inwardly comment on was that, from his view of the bedroom, that he bed looked soft. It was comparable to the same setup TG himself enjoyed, which was to fill as many pillows in one place as possible – though the imp grinned that he could at least afford a damn mattress.
Turning, he regarded his post. It was actually respectful that she didn't try to force him to climb up into a larger chair made for everyone else and then try working while standing the entire time on said chair just to reach the top of the desk. She had prepared, if not in a shotty manner, a desk and a pillow for him to work. That didn't mean he would hurt his neck if he tried looking over at her, but he guessed he wouldn't. There wasn't anything to look at after all.
Moving over, he plopped himself on his assigned desk, tried to get comfortable, set his tail to not feel pinched as he sat, and was glad the pillow was thick enough to not hurt his rump. Reaching into his pockets, he pulled out several strange pens, a marker with a spider at its end, and then a pair of many-lensed spectacles. He then glanced at her, and then at the pile of papers to his right. He picked the first paper up and regarded them.
"What do you want with this?" It was why he was here, and the sooner he got done, the sooner he could go back to his mini-marathon of Jersey Devil Girls.
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Posted: Tue Aug 26, 2014 6:26 pm
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The other thing he would notice is scattered around the room where minipet toys. Though they hadn't made themselves known yet, Scarreons and Druttens where often found in the room, what he might even catch was a flicker of movement a pair of eyes behind a desk or a pile of cushions that would vanish just as he went to look. Still, it was a modest room for someone who didn't have a lot to her name. She had no home to call back to, so what she started with she had. A few boxes of clothes, trinkets of her trips through Halloween and other worlds. A few guitars rested in one corner as well, one bass and one lead.
While he took his seat Sammy paused in her own work closing a thick tome marked with a series of sticky notes poking out its pages, "Those reports need to be filed. Date first, then by last name. Check over that it was filled out properly less we have to listen to some creeple complain that we handled the paperwork wrong for their complaints." She got up departing to the other room rummaging around, she returned with two cans of BrainFreeze a cola popular among undead and those who enjoyed truly fridged drinks, "You want one?"
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Posted: Tue Aug 26, 2014 7:34 pm
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He looked at the paperwork and sighed. "This is secretary work." It wasn't even challenging. It was just basic to the point where he felt he was back to day-scare and his fathers were giving him 42 waiver forms to look over as practice. UGH! He was going to be bored as hell. Reaching over, he decided to pull a pile close to him and then set the glasses on his head. For someone with already large eyes, the glasses made him look peculiar. One lense made his eyes radically larger, while another tinted them a bright blue, and yet another made his eyes only monochrome. The last lense was tinted like a pair of aviator sunglasses. He used the basic setting at first, and looked over the form with dramatically bored expression. He could sweep through the forms easily enough – it was just the amount that bugged him. "Your backlog is ridiculous." He complained, loosing more faith in the student body government. "Do you even hound anyone under you to do this work?" Those in any sort of leadership position had people under them to do this sort of work. Wait. Did that make him a lackey? Wanting to groan, he looked up when she returned with a can of soda with a name he hadn't heard of before. The Freeze had him wary, but all sodas had some cold name tagged to it. He did feel he would need the sugar (aside from the candy he had in his pockets). He reached both claws out to take it and mumbled a 'thank you or whatever' in response. The can was much larger in his hands, and he regarded the label and look before shrugging and popping the tab. He gave it one sip, and then winced in physical pain and set the can down. Cold. COLD! UGH! IT WAS TOO COLD!!!
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Posted: Tue Aug 26, 2014 7:37 pm
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Posted: Tue Aug 26, 2014 7:49 pm
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Posted: Wed Sep 03, 2014 5:00 pm
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Posted: Wed Sep 03, 2014 5:47 pm
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Posted: Wed Sep 03, 2014 6:21 pm
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Posted: Wed Sep 03, 2014 7:04 pm
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Posted: Wed Sep 03, 2014 7:11 pm
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"There isn't a record of the Seven Kings, at least I don't think their is. The only people who know where the ones pulled into that world, or rather worlds. Other lives other places."
She placed the tome down pointing to a rune, it was the symbol of protection, Excalibur, though it lacked the name, only the symbol and words neither of them could really piece together from a long dead language.
"In that Kingdom, there was Protection. Protection was something more though. Something more then an idea, it was a Legacy, something older then a god, or maybe it was a god."
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Posted: Wed Sep 03, 2014 7:17 pm
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Posted: Wed Sep 03, 2014 8:15 pm
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Posted: Wed Sep 03, 2014 8:47 pm
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TG's face bunched up, trying to follow Sammy's broken speech and disconnected train of thought. It was that of open musing, but the imp, knowing not a single thing about what she was saying, was more or less lost of what she even was talking about, let alone the specifics of what she was trying to research and find.
"Um...you were..a symbol?" He said, as if hoping he was following her train of thought to even a sliver of an extent. It was clear he wasn't, and he touched his head, feeling a bit of smoke start to come when he got a headache. "You're really...confusing.....and crazy.." He rubbed hi temples since he had absolutely no idea what she was even talking about.
"Don't ever get a job as a story teller. You really suck at it." He really wished it had been a scary tale instead of the ramblings of a crazy undead.
He picked up his paperwork and resumed what he was doing, but he did so with half interest, finding the basic forms a bit too easy for him. The much smaller pile wouldn't take him too much more time than the others, but just required a bit more attention with his special scopes.
"Seems boring - whatever you're trying to find. Aren't ghouls supposed to be reading magazines and looking at mirrors? You're bad at that too." So far she failed as a story teller and a ghoul.
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