ic inbox

[pieous]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, GAMZEE MAKARA. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 420.42.042.04 *** G-MAK has joined 420.42.042.04 <G-MAK> YO, MY RIGHTEOUS BROTHERS AND GODDAMN BITCHES. <G-MAK> if you all is wanting to be all placing at a mother fucking order with me. <G-MAK> LEAVE AT A BROTHER SOME WICKED FUCKING TEXTUALS. <G-MAK> oh and another motherfuckin thing. <G-MAK> SEXTS IS ALWAYS FUCKIN WELCOME. ;o) ▉

Comments

[kolus]

[ Stan's not sure what to make of the words to leave the nymph's mouth. Something about shit-tits and being fearless, a statement Stan finds all the more amusing when proven otherwise. A large smile spread across his face, the goblin chuckles to himself and watches Gamzee slowly die of laughter. ]

That's funny.

[ Turning his attention back to the bag in his hand, Stan tucks it into his jacket and slides two bills onto the table. He feels... good. Really good. He can't seem to get this stupid grin off his face, the nymphs company becoming almost somewhat enjoyable, even if he doesn't understand half the things he says. Stan spares him a final glance. ]

If you die there I'm robbing you of everything but this couch. [ He's joking; he wouldn't take everything, just most of it.

Satisfied, the goblin closes his eyes and takes in a final breath of smoke before falling back into the the shadows. A thick, tar like substance crawls up through the couch and latches hold of him, slowly pulling him into darkness. It crawls up his body, consuming him form until nothing remains but a shadow in his place. The shadow slides down the couch and moves along the floor, stretching impossible bounds and twisting in ways Stan hadn't since the fifty's. It bumps into the table, the furniture shifting to the side on contact, and moves for the door. A perfect silhouette of the goblin forms on the wall, a clawed hand seen reaching for the keyhole before it slips through and disappears. ]