for offshoots

[kykeon]

[In the old days, men came to Circe, not the other way around. But a great witch knows how to improvise, especially in the name of revenge. Especially in the name of petty revenge.

Expose her disguise in Salem, will he? Well. Can't have Robin Hood being too perceptive and clever, without consequences for his fat mouth. 

Servants may not need sleep, but enough liquor makes them pass out when they put their guard down. She doesn't even need to be too quiet when sneaking into the kitchen, stepping around the scotch and cards from a British get-together. No King Arthur but a few knights, a poet and a pirate. And, ah-ha! An outlaw, with drool sticking poker chips to his cheek. 

Circe taps a finger to her lips. Hm. All men might be pigs, but it wasn't quite fitting in this case....hadn't been grabby fingers, but a quick tongue that had earned him this trouble... a tilt of her head. That russet hair, standing on end, did already put her in mind of a certain bushy creature. Why not complete the look?

Boop!

She taps a finger full of magic right onto his nose and steps back to observe her handiwork. Not cruel enough to earn her deserved scorn - enough to teach him not to blow her cover. And if he was so sly and crafty, than surely, not too hard a task to discover who'd turned his ears vulpine and given him a tail to match that kitsune Caster's? Admirable handiwork, if she will admit that to herself. Perfectly fluffy copper fur even she wants to reach out and pet.

Fufufu. 

Time for a fox to hunt a hawk. And for Circe to spirit herself away before he catches a whiff of her among all the alcohol.]

Comments

[offshoots]

[the boop to his nose makes it wrinkle but he doesn't wake. only groans and buries his face further into his arms. some of those chips peeling off his cheek and falling back to the table. but a fluffy ear twitches, flicking at her before she leaves. the new appendages weren't merely for show. they functioned, a part of him. it'll be a rude fucking awakening. though he's not the first person to wake up to them. Mozart is the first to see Robin's state and he barely conceals his laughter once his eyes focus on the sight of Robin-no-Mae. as badly as he wants to ask Robin about them, who he pissed off, maybe it would be better for him to come across them on his own. there's beauty in self-discovery. Chaldea comes alive. normally Robin greets the morning by watching the sunrise from his favorite tree, listening to the soft song of birds. but today? today he's listening to his own heartbeat in his head, head pounding. the soft, fluffy ears flatten to his head.] Ugh. Damn it, not again. [he really needs to learn to say no to these drinking parties. with great effort, he sits up and wipes the drool from his face as he looks around. at the mess. that has been left to him. cards scattered all over the table. empty glasses and no sign of his drinking buddies. bastards. he starts with the cards because they're right in front of him, gathering them into a pile by dragging them across the table and not picking them up at all. idly, he reaches behind him to scratch at his lower back-- there's. something fluffy that meets his fingers? did those guys do something to him while he was sleeping? he doesn't want to look. but his upper body twists around and he peeks something that reminds him of a certain Caster. that's attached to him. he has a tail. ...] Whaaaaaaaat!? [Robin leaps out of his chair, knocking it over with a loud clatter. making a ruckus that would catch anyone's attention if they're walking by. shut up, moron.]