#jovialjest

[witchcraftandburialdirt]

I've been playing Tomodachi Life with @admissary and it has been an absolute delight of a time watching the muses interact and do goofy stuff together ♥

[witchcraftandburialdirt]

“Five second rule!” He bends to eat a piece of food he dropped on the floor

━━ 𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ━━ 𝙼𝙾𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙽 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴

Sudden fingers curled around Peninink's forearm in a cold, slithering grip; and the another one of Abel's disembodied hands seized hold of the familiar's own. They hoisted him upright, forcing him to stand at attention with a casual certainty, as if lifting his weight was no more substantial than a grape, or two. Then, two more hands formed to pluck the stray morsel of beef that had tumbled from Pen's plate, and clean it. They moved with a strange tenderness throughout their care, only the tips of his claws tilted Pen's chin upward and pressed the beef insistently onto his lips. Not as gently as Abel had intended, unfortunately, but the care was there regardless.

"HOW Ṡ̷̌͒́W̶̢̢͔̭̻̺͇̠̙͐Ê̸̗̰͇͍̺̥̝̞͍͔̟͈͍̥̅͒̕Ê̴̓̀͆̅T̵̛̉́̈́́̆͘ OF YOU, ᴹʸ ᴰᴱᴬᴿᴱˢᵀ ᴾᴱᴺ ────── ━━ ​🇧​​🇺​​🇹​ ​🇮​​🇹​ ​🇮​​🇸​​🇳​❜​🇹​ ​🇦​​🇸​ ​🇹​​🇭​​🇴​​🇺​​🇬​​🇭​ ​​🇾​​🇴​​🇺​ ​🇳​​🇪​​🇪​​🇩​ ​🇹​​🇴​ ​🇸​​🇨​​🇷​​🇴​​🇺​​🇳​​🇬​​🇪​ ​🇫​​🇴​​🇷​ ​🇫​​🇴​​🇴​​🇩​."

"Allow me to get you something new. You've worked quite hard today, you deserve it."

[witchcraftandburialdirt]

“ Master, a human seems at the end of his rope at the doorstep, desperate to contract with you. Should I tell him you’re busy, just to make him more stressed about it ~?”

━━ 𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ━━ 𝙼𝙾𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙽 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴

"M̶͎̫̅̋̕m̸̛̛̲̖̯̜̠̥̽͒͌̀m̴̺͇̜̺̭̲͂̈́̊̈́͂̕?̶̧̧̼̙̙̖̘͓͈̮̫͓͉͓̳̤̺͉̪̩͎̩̞͈͔̱̖͖͉́̒̀̌̄̎̂̀́̑͂͑͗̈́͌͆͑̈́̑̎̒͘͘̕͘͜͜͝͠ ̷̢̧̟̳̟͉̟̘̩̞̂̋͘ ᵂʰᵃᵗᵉᵛᵉʳ ⁱˢ ⁱᵗ ⁿᵒʷ, ᵐʸ ᴾᵉⁿ? ────── ᵀᴴᴵˢ ᴴᴬᴰ ᴮᴱᵀᵀᴱᴿ ᴮᴱ ᵂᴼᴿᵀᴴ ᴵᵀ "

Somehow, even with his featureless face … a slow smile stretched like an empty slash from ear to shadowed ear - implied only by the subtle shift of darkness across the void. He felt an odd… lightness. Abel's impatience, which was usually quite invasive in his day to day, had sweetened, replaced by something almost … pleasant. The devil was, of course, deliberately ignoring the source of this alteration. Never, not in a thousand years, not even in the deepest corner of his ... you don't have a soul, would he ever admit that Pen, in his own way, had made him happy. Whatever.

"Amusing," he murmured, his pleased rumble pitched just low enough for his familiar to feel each word rattle along the cage of his ribs. "Very amusing indeed, but you're thinking too short term." He leaned back in his chair, spinning his unlit cigar between too many fingers,"You'll usher him in, inform him I'm expecting his presence, and, Peninink, ensure he understands that punctuality is a virtue I hold in particularly high esteem." A soft hiss sounded as the end of the cigar caught flame. A plume of smoke curled towards the ceiling,

"And then," Abel continued, "you will press every single button in the elevator as you bid him farewell. Do you understand, dearest Pen?"

[nepalmera]

" I know something you don't know ~ "

HIS VOICE GRATES MIRA , LEAVING AN UNCOMFORTABLE FEELING RESIDING in her very being.

At once upon sight of him, she throws her hand back and her woldo materializes. Her gaze narrows, unmistakable annoyance taking place. Immediately taking a defensive stance, perplexed how he even showed up so casually in the first place without her taking notice.

" I don't want to hear it! " Perhaps, deep down, she does -- but no way is she going to give in. " I'll send you back where you belong instead. "

[witchcraftandburialdirt]

He leans and snaps a selfie with Abel. Pausing briefly to look over the photo. It's definitely them, spare for Abels warped dark 'face' covering the top left of the picture. Like it was trying to burn his likeness out of the image. "So handsome ~ ! "

━━ 𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ━━ 𝙼𝙾𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙽 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴

The demon nodded and chuckled once Peninink thrust the photograph closer; the featureless void of Abel's face fixing over the proffered image now hovering only centimeters away. Peninink’s dainty assessment should have meant nothing ... but … his stomach felt tight with … well, not anxiety (was that even possible?). No, this was worse: a perverse satisfaction at the compliment. Did the world turn upside down? When had he ever cared about Peninink's opinion? (Besides, perhaps, in the matter of exquisitely frilled socks. That, after all, was simply a matter of good taste.)

Why should he? Yet … undeniably, he was happy.

Strange ━ he'd have to console Baudelaire about it another time.

"You can take as many photographs as you'd like, my dear Pen. You've earned it after such a long day of contracts."

[essencefluxed]

@jovialjest : HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

“WHAT IS THAT—“

why did all the weird shit have to find HIM. Why did HE have to deal with this—HE DEALT WITH ENOUGH DEMONS. Evelyn and Abel were MORE than enough…he didn’t need whatever the hell THIS was—

“Uhh, hey, can you like…go back to whence you came or something?” PLEASE GO AWAY. PLEASE PLEASE PLESE PLEASE.

[witchcraftandburialdirt]

" Tis I, your humble jester, here to brighten up your mood ! "

── 𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ── 𝙼𝙾𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙽 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴

The ghostly, serpentine ribbon continued its uninterrupted ascent long after Pen's jingling performance had faded into silence. Yet, there was not a drop of venom clinging to the aromatic haze, nor a single breath of ill-will in the heavy air that clung to Abel's seated form. Instead, plush velvet warmed by embers radiated from the Devil; it was the heat of a well-fed hearth, of complacent dominion, of a tacit ownership so absolute it required no utterance. From the depths of that gloom, fingers of polished obsidian unfurled from the room's shadows, reaching out with a languid grace to weave an irresistible beckoning to his familiar in order to draw them inexorably closer. And like the tide to the shore, they were compelled into the proprietor's sphere; where three more hands sprouted, and descended upon him. They fussed and fluffed and floofed at the ruffled collar of Pen's motley, rearranging the silk, bells, and lace. As the digits preened and patted, a trio of matching sharp, percussive knocks resonated deep within Pen's skull:

"T̵s̶k̸ t̵͉̍̌͑s̴͕̫̿̃͐k̶͔͔̦̀̍ ̴̟͉͍̄͠ t̴̡͔̰̦͇̙͕̄̄̾̍̕͜͠͝ș̷͓͎̭̈͗̍̓̀͘͠͝k̶̠̟͛́̈̇̉̾̕͝ ̷̢̧̟̳̟͉̟̘̩̞̂̋͘ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ⁿᵒʷ, ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᶜᵒʸ; ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵖᵒᵘᵗ ᵉⁱᵗʰᵉʳ. ────── ᴸᴱᵀ ᴹᴱ ˢᴱᴱ "

But it wasn't the shadowed face of his master which was addressing him; it was -- well, an eye. A single, disembodied eye with irises the color of stagnant water, had split and opened in air between them. It hung there, impossibly suspended, boring into Pen as Abel continued his paperwork ( obviously using a writing utensil not nearly as smooth or wonderful as his DEAREST pen! )

"M̵̡̖͖͙̖̦̘̟̹̈́̊͝m̴̡̡̼͇̮̮̠̉͛̽͜͜m̷̨̛͈̣̭͌́̄̇̈̕, you've dirtied your frills and collar. ⁿᵃᵘᵍʰᵗʸ ⁿᵃᵘᵍʰᵗʸ ───── ᵂᴴᴬᵀ ᵀᴿᴼᵁᴮᴸᴱ ᴰᴵᴰ Yᴼᵁ ᴳᴱᵀ ᴵᴺᵀᴼ . . . ? "