#verse|main

[tophattippin]

@husky-boi cont.|X {mobile}

“Of course ya are, I don’ lie ta ya.” Even if Husk denied it, Niss knew he appreciated the compliments from the way his tail was swaying. “Well, lucky me, I already got ‘im~.” Sure, he might be able to have anyone he wanted, thing was thaf Husk /is/ the one he wanted. “An’ no, I’m not. I’m jus’ as falwes as anyone. Yer ten times betta’~”

[tophattippin]

🌷//mxsecastle// for luci to do for micheal

Send me 🌷 and my muse will compliment yours

“You are...much more pleasant to me than our Father.”

[tophattippin]

@appledaddytm​ cont.|X

“Lucifer...This is all so much...our citizens are being slaughtered left and right by Micheal’s angels. I-” she hesitates to admit it but... “Lucifer, for the first time in a long time...I am truly afraid. Our people...Lucifer, is this not too much for our Charlotte to handle? It’s all so soon...”

[mac-and-lula-blog]

|| @beaniesandbutterflies is saved(?) by these two

There’s the smell of something burning, the sound of crackling in the distance, wood giving itself up to flames. Crackle-spit faint, but they’re getting closer.

Lula winds up the window. “Should we?”

“See if there’s anyone there? Yeah.”

“What if they--”

“Get yourself ready, then.”

Lula nods and arms herself with the double-barrel, as Mac rolls up to a wreck of a vehicle. A van? Or a jeep, or something. It reminds him of something Lula used to do when she was in college during break. Ahead some few hundred feet, there’s a burning building, and even from such a distance he can feel the heat of it.

He stops the car and climbs out. Lula winds the window down again, double-barrel out of sight and at the ready.

“Hello? Is anyone-- does anyone need any help?”

[mac-and-lula-blog]

|| @cybercochise has to deal with two assholes.

Mac will complain about the Californian heat, especially now, summer, but it’s far away from their last stop-off, far enough from recognition. At least for now.

Lula drums the dashboard, leaning far too forward for his comfort, and he winces every time her knee smacks against the underside. “Stop that.”

“I’m excited!”

“I know, but you’ll end up with a hell of a bruise, Lu.”

Mac taps his fingers along the steering wheel as he drives up and into an open town. A few heads turn but they’re curious, not hostile; guns are expected, and knives. So they might be able to stay for a month, or so, before news travels.

They spot a man -- young-looking, and maybe a double of Mac’s, which Lula is already giggling at, scrunched up on her seat -- and slow down and roll down the window. Lula’s closest, so she pops her head, all face full of grin, and asks, “Hello, there, fella! Any idea where we could stop off? For a while, you know.”