terribibble | Ryslig IC Contact

Ryslig IC Contact

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, FIDDLEFORD HADRON MCGUCKET. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 011.23.581.321 * teslacoils has joined 011.23.581.321 >> teslacoils has posted an AUDIO MESSAGE. If you wish to listen, type LISTEN01. <teslacoils> Lab hours are 10 AM to 6 PM Mon-Wed, 7 PM to 3 AM Thur-Fri, special appointments available. <teslacoils> I am no longer associated with the Fourth God. <teslacoils**> But I will answer any questions you might have about him with the honest truth.

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Pythonmelon
voice work by Penny

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[If Ford laughs, it will definitely spoil the fact that they've reached their destination, so he bites the inside of his cheek and stifles his amusement to the best of his ability as he stops short, halting Fiddleford's movement with a touch to his shoulder.]

Hold on, I think we might have gone the wrong way.

[He tries his best to sound convincing, but unfortunately despite coming from a family of liars and charlatans, the only person he's ever really been able to lie to is himself.]

[Still, he hopes the misdirection will throw Fidds long enough for him to rip the sack off before he figures out he's been had.]

[What the fuck part of 'put this bag on your head and come with me' does either of them think translates to 'you are not being had'? Y'all, he knew from step one there were shenanigans afoot. A-slither. Whatever. His tongue thps again against the inside of the bag. It is probably visible, just a little, from the outside. Thmp.]

I don't really think--

[And then Ford rips off the bag with his usual dumb Ford sort of flourish, revealing the whole scene Lup's set up, and Fiddleford just kind of has to stay very still for a second and take it all in. Presumably this is accompanied by a Lup-brand shriek, which kind of washes over him like a wave.

His tongue thps. Again. Desperately. Like it's trying to figure this all out.]

You're throwin' me a party.

[What the fuck that's so sweet. In Ryslig especially where it's so hard to find enough time to really have a solid string of good days. He's been worried since he asked Marco that their wedding would arrive and it'd fall in the middle of some kind of apocalypse and they'd have to put it off indefinitely because things would just keep happening. But this? This is bolstering. It makes it feel just a little more normal.]

Figured I wouldn't get a second bachelor party. You two -- this is sweet. Thank you.

[It kind of feels just one step closer to being a real proper fresh start.]

The bag absolutely was not necessary, though.

[She's on them in an instant, closing the distance with a few powerful movements of her tail, an equally obnoxious party hat sunk down on top of both of their heads. Ford gets an affectionate brush of Lup's fingers against his arm, but Fiddleford gets an enthused kiss to the cheek before she's looping her arm around his, grinning wide.

For everything that he's done to help her in the last six months? This is the very least Lup could do.]

It's part of the charm of the whole surprise. [Also, it was hilarious.] And c'mon, do you really think we'd let you skip out on the whole tradition? What kinda friends would we be if we didn't celebrate one of your last nights as a bachelor?

It absolutely was.

[Ford goes ahead and gives Fidd a heavy thump on the back, right between the shoulder-blades - it's a friendly gesture, despite the force behind it. That's just how rough Jersey boys from the 60's roll.]

[Nodding in agreement, Ford flashes Lup a smile before joining her in ganging up on Fiddleford.]

The terrible kind.

[He slides his arm over Fiddleford's shoulders, and while he's at it he gives Lup's hood a little poke, just to mess with her.]

And I've already filled my Terrible Friend quota for this lifetime, so the party was non-negotiable.

[These two get along almost too well. Fiddleford is certain this is going to result in him sleeping less and worrying more in the long run, but he can't find it in himself to be too bothered. So much time in Ryslig is spent organizing events around making sure nobody shows up who's murdered somebody else in attendance. It's kind of nice that these two just like each other.]

Well I'm sure not goin' to complain. Y'all have an itinerary or were we goin' to wing it?

[He tangles one arm up with Lup's and slips the other around Ford's back. The spikes might have bothered him once but now that he knows they mostly stick out when Ford's agitated they don't worry him. Tonight's going to be a good night.]

[E x c u s e ???

Ford goes for her hood and Lup is there to bat at his hand without blinking, just the kind of expert practices any twin would understand. Watch yourself, Ford, before you really rise up to surrogate brother status and she just flat out sits on you and gives you noogies all day.

Still, even as she's batting his hand away, Lup's bright eyes slide over to Ford, then back to the naga of the evening, her fanged smile widening in excitement.]

Spoilers, my guy! You just have to get crossfaded with us first an' see where the night takes you. [And what she says next is probably more worrying than anything, but just go with it, Fiddleford.]

Trust us. We have this all planned to a T. Tonight's gonna be wild.

Edited 2018-10-17 04:55 (UTC)

She's being generous.

[He nods to the party-planner in question, conceding all credit for the festivities to her.]

She did all the planing, I was just the wall she bounced ideas off of.

[He breaks away from the impromptu group hug, but not before taking a swipe at Lup's hair, hoping to muss it in passing as he makes his way over towards the makeshift bar. (It's more like a table with a bunch of different types of booze on it, but whatever, don't judge.)]

So, who wants to start the night off with a Blue Blazer?

[He snaps his fingers, conjuring a pair of flames just for the sake of demonstration, before quickly snuffing them out.]

[Fiddleford has always liked his alcohol a little more, uh. Straightforward. His usual order is a whiskey, neat. But he lived with Ford long enough to know about Ford's hobby of mixing drinks and he also knows how much Ford likes to show off.

He also knows that mixed drinks tend to be very high in alcohol content. He can get behind that.]

Only if you actually set it on fire.

[There's a flaming joke here that he's not drunk and low-filter enough to make.]

I feel like I ought to be a little more worried about you tellin' me the first step here's to get halfway to wasted but on the other hand I can't imagine how else tonight was goin' to go. In retrospect I'm surprised you didn't have me show up a little tipsy. Lace that bag with vodka or somethin'.

Yeah, boring like a wall too. [Ford gets a single muss in before Lup's sticking her forked tongue out at him and darting out of the way, mirth obvious in the straight line of her long ears sticking right up.] Plannin' parties with him is just like watchin' paint dry.

[But then Ford's conjuring fire - ugh, jealous - and Lup's attention is hooked. Linking elbows with Fiddleford, she drags the other naga forward with her towards the makeshift bar (as best as one can drag a fellow snake), her skinny shoulders bumping up against his affectionately.]

Not a bad idea. We'll have to save that for the next bachelor party we throw. Any other big weddings on the horizon? Cuz we better start prepping now.

[Do you like that look she's giving you Ford? You're the odd man out now, you've gotta be next.]

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