(no subject)

[hate_gettin_older]

The front door opens, and in stumbles Edgar, looking exhausted and covered with red dust from the knees down. At his side ambles a baby thoat, which looks around at the noisy crowd and immediately tries to hide behind Edgar's legs.

"Oh thank Christ," Edgar breathes, as Tars Tarkas steps into the room behind him.


[Edgar is taggable! Tars is heading home pretty immediately.]

Comments

[hate_gettin_older]

"Could always ask," he says, still cautiously; the signs of temper are still there, and he doesn't want to provoke a fight by accident.

[andinfluencepeople]

Chuck looks back, and his mouth quirks slightly. "I'm not going to bite. Despite my reputation," he adds, dry, "though hopefully it didn't follow me all the way out here."

[hate_gettin_older]

Eyebrows rise. "... what, you've got a reputation for biting then?"

[andinfluencepeople]

Chuck's face at first goes what, then he gets it-- and laughs.

"Nah, mate. I've just gotten in a few fights. When provoked," he adds. "Apocalypse didn't grace some poor wankers with sense."

[hate_gettin_older]

"Tell me about it," Edgar agrees with a snort. "You'd think, wouldn't you?"

[andinfluencepeople]

Chuck shrugs. He tilts his head at Nitwit.

"Think she's doing okay?

[hate_gettin_older]

"Seems to be," he says, and reaches to scratch behind Nitwit's nub-horns. "How're you doing, kid?"

She makes a contented grumbling noise, tilting her head to present a better scratching angle.