Let's draw straws! @brodenbarrelborror - Tumblr Blog

Task 11: Intro & Connections

Name: Broden “Barrel” Borror Age: 24 Gender: Cis man/Questioning (he/him) Occupation: Unemployed/Borror Henchman Sexuality: Asexual Panromantic Birthplace: Unknown Redwood Hollow Residency: Lifelong resident

FULL BIO | MUSINGS | HEADCANONS | ALL MUSES

#happiestplacetask #happiestplacetask11 #about #death tw

Barrel was skateboarding down the street, contemplating what he should do with the rest of the day. The world seemed to answer the question for him when he noticed a person on the ground up ahead. Slowing his pace, he craned his neck to determine whether the person was injured or in need of help, but from this distance it was hard to tell.

In the end, he kicked the skateboard up under his arm and jogged over, calling out, “Hey, are you alright?”

@happieststarters

#happieststarter

xaspiringbeamoflightx:

~

“That is a fair point…” Tina nodded. “So, really, the best plan of action is staying relatively out in the open then? Not near beds, or cars, or tables.” She would have to make note of all of this somewhere, after she had milked Broden for all of his ideas. “Okay, but hear me out. Everyone would want to go quick and painless, yes, but getting in there to kill them before they’re disembowelled is dangerous for you and your party. You’re going to have to get close enough for a clean headshot, risking getting caught yourself, thus risking making yourself a zombie and endangering other alliances. You leave them there to be torn apart, it gives you time to run.”

She crossed her arms, wondering where this conversation had turned into her being bitter about her friends. “Well, you know, some people don’t let you know they’re dicks until it’s too late,” Tina huffed. Tina thought about it too hard, and for a moment too long. By the time she had an answer, she was fidgeting with her ring, and her demeanour had swung from teasing to entirely serious. Tina knew all too well that there were some alliances that she couldn’t possibly break of her own accord, no matter how bad they were for her. No matter how annoying, or how horrid, they were to her. Then again, she really did know herself too well. There were some people that just needed to be thrown under the bus, y’know? In this case though, with Peter on the brain, she wanted to say no. “Depends,” she answered finally, shrugging it off like she hadn’t just walked head first into an existential crisis. “I’d like to think I’m better than that.”

--

“It’s really a case by case thing, I think. Cuz like, yeah you don’t want to be near anywhere a zombie might be hiding. But then again, zombies aren’t the only threat, you know? When it comes to other people, you want to have good cover, or else you’re gonna get sniped instantly.” Truly, he’d been playing enough video games to be thinking of all the options.

He watched her intently as she explained herself, nodding along. “I mean, you definitely have a point there! They’re going to die anyway, so might as well protect yourself. I think I’d only put them out of their misery if they were someone I liked,” he concluded. “Cuz then I would just feel bad, you know? Don’t want the last memory of my friend to be their limb-ripping, disemboweled screaming.”

Barrel wasn’t able to notice that Tina’s demeanor had shifted in such a way. In his mind, she was just thinking really hard about the answer, which was fair. When she finally did respond, his eyes narrowed slightly and he tilted his head. “You’d like to think...but it’s not a definite?” He asked, for clarification. “What does it “depend” on, do you think?”

#tina #death tw

sallytheseamstress:

.

At his comment, Sally could only blink in shock. She barely managed to force a breathless chuckle. “I scheduled it perfectly. If Santa decides to show up whenever, that’s on him, not on me,” she declared, truthfully more offended at the suggestion that she wasn’t competent at her job than at any prank Broden had ever tried to pull. So his following accusation was quite unexpected. She blinked again, gathering her thoughts for a moment before trying to decide whether to deny it or to keep it ambiguous. “Well, I… I didn’t even…” Before she could make up her mind, Broden was already congratulating her on her quick-thinking. And, before she could mess it up, she resolved to simply smile, raise her chin proudly and take it to heart. “Why, thank you.” Even though it probably meant that Broden would try even harder, if he believed that she was actually making efforts to counteract the Unholy Trio’s tricks. “That’s not an open invitation for further mayhem, by the way.”

Right, that casino Oz had. A veritable tourist trap, and one Sally was very much looking forward to never have to venture in. She didn’t ask him right away, but she did hope none of the three Borror children had to work there back when they were just kids. By the rumors she had heard abour Oz’s borderine criminal activities, she wouldn’t exactly put it past him to do something like that, no matter how much he said he cared about his children. “Oh, well, that’s good to know.” Her eyebrows shot up when he mentioned drawing. “Really? Have you ever been to the Redwood Art Center? Last month they had these wonderful nineteenth-century etchings that were so, so beautiful…” Broden kept listing his honestly impressive list of hobbies and pasttimes. And Sally thought she kept herself busy… The mention of the graveyard visits, and the old medical records in particular, got her attention suddenly burning, to the point that the just managed to keep herself from jumping and questioning him further. Instead, she waited for him to finish talking, and considered his question.

“I’m not sure… I kept my ear sharp, but I think the trail got cold,” she said. “I guess we all chose to move on to other things.” It wasn’t as if that had been the last unusual ocurrence to hit Redwood Hollow in recent memory. Stranger and stranger things kept happening, to the point that even keeping up with all the details could get rather tricky. Broden’s comment made Sally think of the mysteriously stolen items for the first time in quite a while. “Do you have any theories regarding who might have done it, and why?” She didn’t have much confidence that Broden could really have any strong evidence, it had to be said. Regardless, he might just know something she had been missing.

--

Barrel didn’t seem to notice that Sally was contending anything he had to say. Rather, when she finally gave in and “admitted” her intents, he just continued his congratulatory nodding. Her added comment cracked a grin across his face, though. “Oh, you know I never need an invitation for mayhem!”

It wasn’t uncommon for him to go on ramblings like this, but it was more rare for people to engage him and ask follow-up questions. His eyes lit up and he nodded excitedly. “Yeah, I check that place out all the time when there are new exhibits!” He exclaimed. “The etchings were cool, I guess, but I’m into more modern and like--weird stuff. Like Dadaism, or Garbage Pail Kids,” he explained, as if those two examples were even remotely comparable. “Does that mean you like art too, Miss Finkelstein?”

His lips pursed and he nodded along. He hadn’t heard anything new about the case and if there was any information, he was sure someone like good old responsible Sally would have it. But it seemed she knew no more than him. “Why does anyone steal anything? Money, usually,” he said with a shrug. One of the many lessons his Dad taught him. “But didn’t they say that a ton of those items weren’t monetary value? Maybe it was just a big ol’ prank on the cops.” He gasped deeply as a new theory occurred to him. “Or maybe it’s performance art! Maybe the whole thing is a Neo-Dada piece meant to show the absurdity of materialism and futility of the police state!”

#sally

vixletparr:

-

trust her mum and her aunt to sign her up to the town’s valentines event, like her life wasn’t already embarrassing enough! she’ll never be able to live this down. god, if the ashleys, the tremaines or tina get wind of this, she’ll be tormented until the end of time.

going by her codename, she really was trying to be as invisible as possible, maybe all this could be like a bad dream and go away. that idea was null and void when one of the barrel’s had found her, broden if she remembered correctly.

violet hesitated for a moment before answering “my mum and aunt thought it was fun to sign me up and it looks like they don’t know anything about me since they couldn’t think of a third clue” she explained “it’s not as cryptic as it looks, sorry”

--

Barrel’s excited attitude seemed to deflate as she explained the truth. “Whaaat?” He replied. He looked down at the card, again, pouting as he reread the clues with this newly revealed context. “Aw man. So you didn’t sign up for this and the people who signed you up don’t even know you? That’s super lame,” he huffed, feeling indignant on her behalf. Of course, he’d always do whatever his family told him to, but he was fairly confident they’d be able to come up with three clues about him!

“Well, you know what? You’re here now and we’re gonna have a great time! Come on, let’s spin the wheel!” He declared as he took her hand, not realizing that might not be something she wanted. He dragged her over to the line that was forming at the wheel before finally letting her go. “So! If you had done this event yourself, what kind of clues would you have made?”

#happiestevent #happiestevent10 #violet

closed starter for @vixletparr

Broden didn’t have a Valentine, and would normally spend the holiday pranking couples who were just trying to enjoy themselves. It was never out of malice of course--it’s just that holidays are always the best time for a good shenanigan. In that regard, signing up for the town’s codename event seemed like a no-brainer.

The clues he received intrigued him, but he didn’t have the first idea how to decode them. So, in the end, he just did the tried and true method of asking every single person in the crowd if they were “invisible”. Get a no, move onto the next person. Eventually, someone had to say yes.

When they finally did, he brightened. “Aha! That makes sense!” He said, even if he didn’t actually have the slightest clue. “This was impressively tricky. I gotta know--what does the n/a mean? It’s been driving me crazy!”

#violet #happiestevent #happiestevent10

penny-forrester:

.

Listening to his words, he did had a point, Christmas was never something big at her house, because most of the time she had to film the Christmas special, and to be fair she didn’t cared about gifts, everything she wanted was to spend some free time with her friends and goof around a little, which she never got even being good all year.

“You’re right.” She finally said. “You know, I do have the key to the supply closet, why you don’t make a new misture and I can help you get Santa.” She offered, besides it was a harmless prank, the glitter would take a while to come off, but she wasn’t hurt, besides she never pranked someone and she was curious about the process.

She nodded it. “Unfortunately I think is true, but I give each family small interview so they know what they are getting into, if they don’t have enough space or time, a big dog is not the way to go. I also check on the family for the first 3 months after the adoption, and if it doesn’t work out, they can bring the animal back and I can try to find them a new family again, which is better than being left on the street.”

--

Broden was used to people not taking his reasoning well. That he was ruining the holidays for children, that he needed to get into the Christmas spirit, blah blah blah. So when she said he was right, it surprised him. When she offered to help him attempt the prank again, he was shocked. But he wasn’t about to question it. “Hell yeah!” He cheered, a huge grin spreading across his face.

With that, they made their way to the supply closet. Broden took a detour to where he’d been hiding his materials, a now half empty bag of flour and a couple containers of glitter. Hopefully they’d find something in the closet that would make it a truly nasty concoction. He was being stealthy, hiding behind decorations and making motions to her when it was clear to keep moving.

As they continued on, he listened to what she had to say. “Ah well, that makes sense. And it sounds like you’re pretty thorough, so! You should be running people adoptions, honestly,” he suggested.

#penny

sallytheseamstress:

.

“I bet he does,” Sally nodded tiredly, not caring much about the degree of seriousness with which Broden might take his prankster craft, though it did give her pause to wonder if, at his age, he still believed there really was a Santa Claus.

“I’m here working for the Community Event Committee,” Sally replied, glad to see him sweeping like she asked him to, as she began hanging the last few garlands and decorations on the big tree behind Santa’s chair. “Like I do every year, with every holiday and event. That involves setting schedules, manage the expenses, ordering decorations, preparing the decorations… And, yes, it also involves helping set these Christmas scenes, for when Santa shows up.” She would like to think that Broden already knew all of this stuff, what with her doing the exact same thing every year for the last ten years or so; then again, Sally had no real reason to even think that Broden paid any attention to what she did.

Realizing that did make her ask herself… “If you don’t mind me asking, Broden… What do you do the rest of the year, when you’re not pestering Zach and me?” She had no memory of seeing him around at any time that wasn’t the holidays, or popping by near the store to entertain himself. Did he attend school, back when he was a boy? Did he celebrate his birthdays, did he play at the park? Did he go to the store for groceries now, as an adult? Did he even eat fruits and vegetables?

--

As Sally rambled on, Broden gave her a side eye before sneakily reaching for his bucket and attempting to sweep up the mess back in. While there certainly wouldn’t be enough to pull the prank again in its entirety, it would be a shame to waste what was here. The rest he’d have to make up for himself. “Sounds boring,” he commented with a shrug. “Besides, you didn’t do the scheduling very well. Santa didn’t even show up on time.” That’s when something occurred to him. With a gasp, he placed the bucket down and turned to her, giving her an accusatory point. “Unless....you purposefully messed up the scheduling to protect him!” He knew his siblings never would’ve ratted him out, but at this point they’d been doing this song and dance for years. And apparently Sally was learning the tune just fine. He put a hand on his chin, giving an impressed and congratulatory nod. “Well played, Ms. Finkelstein...very well played. But the year’s not over yet!”

The question caught him off guard, tilting his head. “Huh? Well...” He readjusted the beanie on his head as he thought about it. “I guess I mostly work for my Dad? You know, helping around the casino and stuff.” Among other things, that he would not be naming aloud. “In my free time, I like watching TV and movies and video essays online and reading and listening to podcasts and playing video games,” he listed. “I draw! I like making cool designs. I hang out at the graveyard. Oh, skateboarding! I help Rosetta at her flower shop! Oh, when the museums had their archives open, I spent a toooooon of time looking at old medical records--that was so sick! But they closed the archives after the book got stolen,” he said, his excitement dampening to disappointment before twisting into curiosity. “Hey, did they ever find that by the way? Or like, any of the stuff that got stolen? Did we just stop talking about that?”

#sally f

ritasaysrelax:

Rita laughed at his response, glad that she’d managed to answer the question somewhat to satisfaction. “Not to mention, what if someone who’s been bitten manages to sneak onto the rocket? Zombies. In. Space. It’d be absolute carnage and then what? They’re just floating around out there for the rest of time? All going well though, spending the apocalypse amongst the stars is pretty rad. Cool death points, agreed.” A little smile was on her face as Barrel scribbled away, getting all the juicy deets down before they could get lost in the night. “Rocket launchers in Redwood Hollow?” A pause- “I wouldn’t rule it out. Going to the Sheriff directly probably won’t get you to the truth. I’d find an ex-cop, disgruntled and let down by the station for the real nitty gritty. That, or the press. Chelsea Katz probably knows more about this town than any one of us would be able to handle.”

--

It was like she unlocked something within him with her secret code phrase. “Zombies. In. Space!!” He shouted back, slamming his hands against the counter. “Can you imagine how zero gravity might affect the hunting patterns of a zombie? It’d be a totally different ball game! And then--” He gasped deeply, quite possibly filling his lungs to full capacity. “AND THEN--! What if they tried to shoot the zombies into deep space?! The temperatures would definitely freeze them to the point where they couldn’t move, but it would basically indefinitely preserve them until whatever aliens or other intelligent lifeforms found them and spread the virus across the farthest reaches of the galaxy!” At this point, he was furiously writing away. “Even if this doesn’t happen, it would make a really good series. Maybe a video game. I gotta send this to somewhere.” The problem with Barrel is he had a million ideas but a (perceived) lack of talent to do anything with.

He looked up at her again, pouting. “Miss Katz won’t talk to me anymore. She says I’ve given her “too many bad leads” whatever that means. Just because I tried to blow open the doors on the Sandy Claws case.”

#rita

queencfharts:

After all this time, you’d think she’d be a little more in tune with how these conversations would go with Broden. As he turned to a new page, she knew she’d made a mistake in breaching a new topic. As he deep dived into the hypothetical nuclear apocalypse though, Lorelai was hit with the similarities between this conversation and ones she’d had with Alice before. Nuclear strikes, mysterious blue lights… It made her heart squeeze. It made her entertain this a little more than she would have otherwise. “Yes, I suppose you’d have no idea what a post nuclear wolrd would look like. Perhaps that’s even the origin of your, ah, ‘zombie outbreak’ scenario. If there’s a fully stocked bunker anywhere, I’d start with the Mayor’s office. Burton has more than a few tricks up his sleeve. What would I do, specifically? Probably unseal the Macallan M. bottle in my office but that’s just me.” Engage. “You?”

--

Barrel nodded along, writing ‘nuclear apocalypse’ and drawing an arrow towards ‘zombie outbreak’ then another arrow down that said ‘Mayor Burton’. “You’re right, he definitely seems like the kind of guy who would curl up and hide rather than do anything or try to save anyone.” It was harsh, but his father had left him with less than stellar opinions about the town’s mayor. All the better for them in this case. “Oh, I’d probably rally with my family to turn the casino into a safehouse. We aren’t full-on bunker status but we have a lot of supplies that’d give us a good start. And whatever we didn’t have, we’d be able to negotiate for with other survivors. It’d be a really stellar survival community. Very exclusive. Only the best and most trusted would be allowed in. But I definitely think my Dad would let you stay!”

#lorelai

adropofgoldenrachelx:

~

Rachel quivered. It was so dark that seeing anything beyond the dim porch lights was practically impossible, save for when the entire campsite was lit up in quick flashes of blue light. As far as she knew, everyone was inside the cabins. Or, at the very least, they were supposed to be inside the cabins. And if everyone was inside, that meant that whoever or whatever she thought she saw wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place.

Hesitantly, Rachel dared step to the edge of the porch once more, holding the banister to peer further into the darkness. She held her breath. Through the rumbling thunder, and pouring rain, Rachel was certain she could hear something. Footsteps, maybe? Wet, squelching, getting closer at a steady pace.

“I-If you don’t show yourself, there’s gonna be trouble!” Rachel called out, glancing quickly around for anything she could grab. Sadly, fishing rods didn’t have the same impact as frying pans.

--

The way that the cabins were positioned, he was moving towards the side, rather than head on where he could now see the girl standing. In order to get her to run into the cabin, it would be best to approach her from the front, to send her back inside. But, like, it super wasn’t scary for a serial killer to loop around. You needed to come in a straight, intimidating path with the intent to kill.

So, as he emerged from the darkness, he made a beeline to the side banister of the cabin’s porch. His form, cloaked in a baggy worker’s uniform, looked even more massive as he lumbered over the railing, his muddy boots plodding loudly on the porch as he made his landing. Standing slowly, he gripped the axe in his hands, which gleamed in the light streaming from the windows of the cabin. His mask turned in her direction, giving her a chance to make her next move.

#rachel #happiestevent #happiestevent7 #a million years late but still wanted to continue this lmao

xaspiringbeamoflightx:

~

Tina considered Broden’s retort. He raised a very fair point. Tina had little chance of resisting something grabbing her ankles, with her disadvantage in the height, weight, and strength department. “Okay but like, do we think a zombie is smart enough to hide? Or go stealth mode?” He was poking holes in her plan and she didn’t like it. There would be no alliance here, Lost Boys or no Lost Boys. Still, he raised a fair point about the zombie food thing. Tina hummed. “So, you’re condoning murder, as opposed to incidental zombie lunch? There’s a difference between getting someone in the head before they go full zombie, and letting fate have its way, don’t you think?”

“I make an alliance, get annoying for a second too long or say the wrong thing, and that’s it. I’m first in the line of fire.” Given her current banishment situation, Tina’s chances of making alliances, keeping them, and then surviving in the zombie apocalypse were dangerously slim. Peter (at least right now) would be the first to throw her under the bus.

--

Broden nodded along thoughtfully. Truly, they were flourishing in the marketplace of ideas. “Well I don’t think they’d purposefully hide,” he conceded. “But when you can’t stand, it does give you more places you can mindlessly shamble into. Like under a bed or a car or something,” he pointed out. As she raised an interesting philosophical question, Broden put a finger to his chin. “Well, I think if the person is dying either way, most people would want it to be quick and painless, rather than feeling your limbs get torn off and your guts disemboweled,” he explained. “I feel like in that moment, most people aren’t thinking about the ethics of murder. But if they are, then you totally have a point.” He meant it sincerely, despite being able to read the comment as sarcastic. He was really enjoying this conversation!

Her comments had him tilting his head. “Huh. Those must be really bad alliances if they can be broken like that,” he said. “Me? When I make alliances, it’s about how useful a person is, how much they can increase your odds of survival, what they can get you.” Just like his Dad taught him. “What about you, though? Would you break an alliance in a life or death situation just because someone was being annoying?”

#tina #death tw

penny-forrester:

.

Penny shook her head with a small smile, it seemed that without realizing she gave him a good idea and the next time he would certainly add glue to the mix, she almost felt bad for the next target.

His next statement made her a little confused, she thought he was targeting the santa because they were friends or something. “What do you mean as big fat scam?” She asked curious about what he was going to say.

“I’m here to help some animals get a good home.” She said pointing at the small space a few meters away from them with the puppies, kittens, hamsters anda bunch of other animals. “I run a shelter so if anyone that comes to see Santa wants a pet for Christmas they have the option to adopt one.”

--

Barrel shook his head, looking into his bucket. It didn’t seem like there was enough to try this prank again. He’d have to make a new mix and fast--maybe get his hands on some glue while he was at it. He spoke as he did all this, “Santa Claus is just a lie people tell kids to get them to do what they want. “As long as you’re good all year, Santa will come and give you toys or grant your wish or yadayada,”” he blathered on, using his hand as a mock puppet.

He put the bucket on the ground. “But none of that actually matters. What does matter is whether or not you have rich parents that love you. Kids who don’t got that are being set up for disappointment,” he explained. Not that he knew from experience or anything. “And these people--they play right into it!” He declared, pointing out at where people dressed in elves were corralling the kids, setting them up in a line to meet Santa. “They don’t even care if kids get hurt in the process. It’s a con job.”

His attention turned to the animals and he smiled. “Aw, that’s cool!” He said, though soon his expression dropped as he asked. “But wait, isn’t that a huge problem though? I read once that people adopt animals a ton around the holidays as Christmas presents but then people didn’t actually want them or didn’t realize what they were signing up for and return them back in droves. Is that true?”

#penny

sallytheseamstress:

.

What could she possibly do, but try to arm herself with patience? Sally knew Broden was perfectly harmless –after around a decade of the same, it was clearly just some sort of entertainment for him and his siblings. Yes, the seamstress could definitely do without the surprises; still, it had become as natural to the holiday as unbearably saccharine Christmas pop songs blasting on the radio and perpetually defective robot santas jerking around and ho-ho-ing out of pitch on window fronts. By that point, it bordered on tradition. If it wasn’t such a nuisance, it could almost be seen as endearing. Almost.

Sally couldn’t hold back a little chuckle at his comment, no matter how hard she tried. Indeed, even if she was definitely too old for pranking shenanigans, it would be pretty hypocritical of her to directly state someone could really outgrow the festivities. “No, not Christmas… Too old for these silly pranks you do, for who knows what reason, other than to be a general menace…” Sally frowned and tried to swat his hand away. “Listen, I have work to do. I can’t add Santa’s helper to my current task list, thank you very much.”

But that gave her an idea. Since the ‘real’ Santa hadn’t arrived yet, and there was a mess of glitter and flour and ripped-up wrapping paper on the otherwise perfectly Christmasy scene, Sally figured she could give Broden something useful to do for once. “Here,” she said, fetching a broom and handing it to him. “It’s your mess, after all.”

--

Barrel grinned as Sally laughed at his joke. Out of everyone at that holiday shop, he thinked he liked her the best. It was fun to get a rise out of her, in comparison to Jack’s theatrics or Zach’s panic attacks. She was the perfect mix of annoying adult and chill person. At least, chill enough that she didn’t call the police on them.

“Sandy Claws deserves it,” he replied simply. It was hard to tell whether or not he was joking, though it definitely sounded a lot more serious than some of his earlier statements. When she swatted his hand away, he pulled them back and held them up in innocence. If she didn’t want help cleaning than he was more than happy not to help.

That is...until she wanted help in other ways. When she handed him the broom and told him to get to work, his shoulders slumped in annoyed disappointment. “Aw man, really?” He whined, looking over the glittering white mess that splashed out in all directions. Still, Barrel wouldn’t be Barrel if he didn’t do what he was told. With a huff, he began to sweep up, letting the flour kick up into clouds all around him. “Well Miss Finkelstein, if you’re not here to be Santa’s helper, what are you here for?”

#sally f

minniemyshkin:

~~

With everything that had been going on in town recently, Minnie had been working herself down to the bone. There was information to keep track of, people in hospitals to visit, extra work to fill in for anyone who needed time off, and fielding many questions the people rightfully had that the Mayor was not always around to answer.

It had been a rough few months, and Minnie was ready for the holidays, when she could just relax. Well- as much as Minnie could possibly relax.

All of this, mixed with an embarrassing night a few weeks ago, had Minnie entirely on edge.

When the noise of a voice rang out followed by the sensation of being covered in powder, Minnie full out screamed, her heart leaping out of her chest. When her mind processed that it was Broden in front of her, and that this had been a prank, Minnie’s fear was replaced with annoyance.

“Is Logan involved in this?” Minnie’s voice had a hint of disappointment to it.

--

Usually Barrel loved the sound of a good scream--an indication of a prank well done. However, this scream was not coming from the intended target and thus was not as satisfactory. The dust settled, revealing the faux target to be none other than mayor’s assistant, Minnie Myshkin. It was pretty often that she crossed paths with the Unholy Trinity, if only because their pranks so often involved the town and the mayor. Usually, however, Lock was the one to play interference with her. Which coincidentally enough, was exactly who she asked for.

He narrowed his eyes at her question, not daring to reveal the answer in his reaction. “I’d never snitch on my siblings,” he declared with pride, crossing his arms in defiance. “So it looks like you’ll have to deal with me today! So what’s the punishment? Going to send the elves? I’d like to see them try to catch me!”

#minnie

ozborror-highroller:

~~

Oz was an old man. In theory, fifty three was not particularly old, but in practice, Oz had been around the block. He knew to expect the unexpected and to be ready for life to throw anything at him. It had put money in his bank just as easily as it had thrown the most unruly set of children anyone could ever even attempt to raise.

So when he was met with his twenty something year old son, jumping out of a christmas present prop, and dousing him with flour and glitter, Oz did not react. He stood there and looked Broden directly in the eye, unphased.

“Ho, Ho, ho.” Oz said flatly.

--

Barrel grinned as he saw a bearded man get absolutely doused in his glittering concoction. As the dust settled, however, it became clear to him just how much he messed up. His expression dropped to one of shock as he locked eyes with his father, who gave a flat, jolly chuckle.

“Dad...!” He gasped, hesitating before reaching out to start dusting him off. It’s not that the Unholy Trio never pranked their Dad before--they had quite a bit throughout their childhood. It’s just that they learned very quickly it was in their best interest to prank other people. Specifically people that their Dad didn’t like.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was you,” he said, quickly trying to think of excuses. However, something occurred to him. “Wait a sec--what are you even doing at this event anyway?”

#oz

stardestroyerss

📸 by Caitlin Cronenberg for Variety

#labouffbashoutfit #muse #yes he is breaking the theme on purpose

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