[Closed]
Characters: Franken Stein and Spirit Albarn
Location: Spirit's condo
Rating: Creepy
Time: August 12 very late night
Description: Spirit's tired, Stein makes coffee. Without roofies.
Sometimes, Spirit wondered if he should have asked Maka to teach him the valuable lesson of time management. It seemed like there was always a lot of things to do and so little time to do it, between training in the morning, classes, coordination with the rest of the city, stalking the network, and his own deathscythe missions. Not to mention attempting (in vain) to keep up with Maka and doing household work for Stein. Between this and that, it was a wonder that he still got to sleep, sometimes.
Today was one of those days. The BREW had been going on overdrive lately, but this was ridiculous. There were nearly three dozen guests just for this batch, and Spirit thought very sincerely that his feet and throat were going to die from walking around and talking all day. At least no one had attacked him this time, though it was a near miss.
He barged into the door of his apartment with a dramatic groan, kicked off his shoes, and only just managed to avoid flopping face first onto the nearest couch upon remembering that Stein had been living there the past month or so. He sat down instead. "My feet hurt," he complained to the room in general, stretching his legs in front of him and sinking down into the plush couch until the back of his head was on the backrest.
Location: Spirit's condo
Rating: Creepy
Time: August 12 very late night
Description: Spirit's tired, Stein makes coffee. Without roofies.
Sometimes, Spirit wondered if he should have asked Maka to teach him the valuable lesson of time management. It seemed like there was always a lot of things to do and so little time to do it, between training in the morning, classes, coordination with the rest of the city, stalking the network, and his own deathscythe missions. Not to mention attempting (in vain) to keep up with Maka and doing household work for Stein. Between this and that, it was a wonder that he still got to sleep, sometimes.
Today was one of those days. The BREW had been going on overdrive lately, but this was ridiculous. There were nearly three dozen guests just for this batch, and Spirit thought very sincerely that his feet and throat were going to die from walking around and talking all day. At least no one had attacked him this time, though it was a near miss.
He barged into the door of his apartment with a dramatic groan, kicked off his shoes, and only just managed to avoid flopping face first onto the nearest couch upon remembering that Stein had been living there the past month or so. He sat down instead. "My feet hurt," he complained to the room in general, stretching his legs in front of him and sinking down into the plush couch until the back of his head was on the backrest.