[❝ The Fool's Journey — Krystal & Rónán

The pungent mildew scent did nothing to distract from the patterned nips. One in, one out; the prick would bite down on the stale air as viciously as the worn (fake?) leather. The tense thread gave a demure whine as it slid through the upholstery, only to be once again whipped by the prick of an out-drawing needle. Doro found enjoyment in scouting naive scuffles, embittering the souls of Vighulir’s residents - males the preponderance. Burlap appendages always at the ready for a lady’s blanket support, or ready to be a jubilant relationship’s separator, while the empty chassis was an alter of all things fun; until foreign hands prowl in enraged retaliation, lacerating his stitchings 'til he’s a pile of whimpering repentance that Krystal has to sweep up. Tedious.

While all the load-bearing and joy-having features still held true, the sensitive rips were gaping holes in the making that would not meet the chaotic fort standard that is Doro Pachis. Krystal zipped the needle tenderly between every inch of fray, giving the same tug as she would her own bewildering flesh. Doro’s stitches slouched and flex with the sway of a steady wrist, until the window inside his leather was no longer a sight. The same hand ran down the even lacing, holding the back section all together again. Doro grumpily deplored at the tactility, pouting:    ❝Play nice, babe,❞ behavior most typical (almost stereotypical) of a scorned child.

A lithe finger cut through his black marble eyes to poke right at the mound they called a brain. His had clearly gone missing. ❝I'll show you how I play, babe.❞ Spoken peril almost revitalized, a joyous chime ( why had she installed that thing? ) of the shop's aperture guaranteed Doro’s safety. Miffed espial swiveled towards the intruder — a delicate, muliebrous creature. Doro erupted into deep, hearty giggles, every bit was a thick concoction of unrestrained thrill to have the unfamiliar habitué in his home…and a hint of nervousness at the annoyance Krystal permeated. Both had the doll hiding his hysterical grin, lowering his towering height to be nuzzling his face into Kokinos’ shoulder.

A dip in her head's disoriented angle indicated towards the woman’s lissome form, ❝I'll be with you in a moment.❞ Doro's forfeiture would have to come later, then. 

[  ❈ — @ronan-ia