(Untitled)

[turntowardhades]

*for an eight-year-old girl, she's got a definitively confident and businesslike walk-- this is a child with very controlled imagination, and an analytical brain hard at work inside her head. She's got a brownish-orange cat at her feet, as contently walking along as obediently as any small lapdog

Comments

[damndtotartarus]

I would like to think I'm productive enough without your assistance, Eurydice.

[turntowardhades]

Not assistance. I'm supposed to bug you into dropping corpses on our doorstep or something. I don't know, ask Dad.

[damndtotartarus]

Oh. Very well. Does he prefer them preserved at all?

[turntowardhades]

I really don't know. They should definitely have some sort of signature marks on them to show that they're yours, though.

[damndtotartarus]

*shrugs* All right.

[turntowardhades]

What're you going to do?

[damndtotartarus]

Drop a corpse on the doorstep like a dutiful son. Perhaps I'll giftwrap it.

[turntowardhades]

Oh. I bet they'd like it.

[damndtotartarus]

*nods* Very well, then.