There's a coffin lying in the middle of a living room, top askew. Someone inside gasps and sits up quickly, looking around. This isn't where he went to sleep last night
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Arthur, you know why that isn't funny. ... Are you the one who moved the coffin while I was sleeping?
*looks him over. Arthur is a vampire in his world, but he doesn't look quite like this one and definitely doesn't dress as a witch on a regular basis. *
[[Also: I do not expect you to purpleprose. It is kind of a bitch, and not very Matt anyway. xD ]]
I recognised those carvings.
My first thought was that the Headquarters, in its occasional mercy, had brought it here to relieve me from the troubles of blackout curtains and a basement that could not be inhabited, but soon saw that the gift was far greater. My dearest Mathieu, my charmingly modern creature, rose from it with a delicacy in his eyes like to a startled deer. I leant gracefully against the wall and smiled, drinking in the sight of the right Mathieu, the proper Mathieu, my Mathieu.
"My dear," I began, "you must be cramped in my box. Too short for you."
Comments 76
[This Arthur wasn't simply playing at dead, he was dead, and a witch as a matter of fact, and certainly looked both parts.]
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Arthur, you know why that isn't funny. ... Are you the one who moved the coffin while I was sleeping?
*looks him over. Arthur is a vampire in his world, but he doesn't look quite like this one and definitely doesn't dress as a witch on a regular basis. *
And... what are you wearing?
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[He raises on large eyebrow, and smooths a hand down the front of his dingy vest.]
A cape and hat?
[He sees nothing wrong with his tattery old witchy clothes.]
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Yes, I can see that. Why? You're not exactly the theatrical type.
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I recognised those carvings.
My first thought was that the Headquarters, in its occasional mercy, had brought it here to relieve me from the troubles of blackout curtains and a basement that could not be inhabited, but soon saw that the gift was far greater. My dearest Mathieu, my charmingly modern creature, rose from it with a delicacy in his eyes like to a startled deer. I leant gracefully against the wall and smiled, drinking in the sight of the right Mathieu, the proper Mathieu, my Mathieu.
"My dear," I began, "you must be cramped in my box. Too short for you."
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*his eyes widen. are you who he thinks you are? who he wants you to be? *
Francis...?
Is that you?
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[[...yeah see I chicken out about half the time too.]]
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I thought you were gone. For good.
Where were you?!?
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!!!
*It scared the beejesus out of America.*
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
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*he glares.*
You can't just move people's boxes when they're sleeping, Al. Do you play this prank on Arthur, too?
... And where are we?
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In fact, YOU don't sleep in a coffin either! At least not where I come from. WHY are you in there anyways?!
Don't tell me...are you...a a a...a GOTH EMO HIPSTER NOW?!
*He switches mental tracks.*
We're uh in HQ. It's some place that is...I guess it's a dimension. Like the Twilight Zone. Not where we come from, and nowhere we've been before.
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Not usually, of course not. You know I've been sleeping in Francis's coffin since he disappeared...
... Alfred, I understood exaclty none of that explanation.
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