affiliate
Location: Mundungus’ apartment, London Time: Noon, 3rd of January Status: Closed, for @fletchermundungus
“So I decided they have no choice but to want me,” Lu said as they hipped the entrance door close behind them. In one hand a casserole, still warm, in the other their handbag, which promptly was then dropped to the ground, they stalked into the apartment. “Sure they fucked up the mission-thing for which I gave them information, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t good information.”
Looking around for Atlas, they grabbed two forks from the vase of cutlery (and things that resembled such), then, finding Atlas still in bed, non-chalantly walked over to it to take a seat. Not on the edge of the bed though, no, in the middle of it, sitting there with their legs tailor-crossed and the casserole in their lap. “So I say, I’m just gonna go to that headquarters of theirs and just ask for a job. Well, it’s not really paying, so it’s not a job, but you know. A position? A position. I mean, if they’re okay with you, they’ll be okay with me. I’m way trust-worthier than you are, look at my eyes, none of that shifty bullshit going on. All doe and innocence. Besides, they can’t really reject me, can they? There’s still this chance that I tell on them, so they better not offend me, hein? I mean, certainly they can’t choose who they let in, anyway, it’s not like they’re failing so badly at kicking the Dark Lord off his throne by being showing up in numbers. Surely they’re just, like, three peas running after each other in a pot. Every help is most certainly needed and-... Atlas, are you even listening to me?” An expression of mild offense and irritation showing on their face, they poked Atlas into his leg with the fork. “Zippy zip, chicken shit, I’m talking to you.”
