#kc_necropolis

"And singing, man, if you can get them to," He is grinning, as he stands* "Hey, you know, man. I know you're a little hard for cash, but, like....if you need something to trade, or like, some dross, maybe I can help out?"

"I'm doing okay. Your friend, with the cat? She said she might hire me to do some painting for her..."

"Right on. Actually, chica, I was wanting to hire you, if you had time, too, man. Like, to paint a djembe shell?" Whatever THAT is...*

"I have time! ...What's a djembe?"

An amused grin, taking a lap of her apartment, his hooves clattering where the rug doesn't muffle* "Big drum, like, shaped like...." *He sketches a form that resembles an inverted bell on a pedestel....or an hour glass woman's figure if she had no hips*

"Wood? Plastic?"

"Wood, like, a hardwood."

"Cool. What were you thinking, design wise?"

"You think you can do, like, a Day of the Dead kind of thing?" *Curiously, leaning against her wall. He is tucking the blunt back into his dreads more firmly, pulling off the hood

"Skulls and flowers, yeah? Sure! Is acrylic okay? I don't know how to do oils..."

"Acrylic's cool, chica." He bobs his head, grinning* "It's for, like...one of those morbid guys, like the ones I thought the Creepies might like, man. Deathdude. Thought maybe that would be his kind of thing, you know?"

"Life AND death, sort of. So, yeah. Get me the thing, and I'll paint it!"

"Right on. I'll, like, bring it Friday, man, I'm going to butter it up, condition the wood some, you know? It's been sitting in some dude's garage, for like, years, probably." He bobs his head, agreeably* "You want me to bring it here, or to the Freehold, Bird-girl?"

"Either works! You'll need to call up, though - the door down there locks automatically."

"I'll take it to the Freehold, man, so it won't take up so much space here, cool? If you want it here, I can bring it, though, it's kind of large, you know?"

"Well - my paints are here. I don't know if I'd want to work on the freehold..."

"Right on, I'll bring it here, then. No problem." He gives the rain a look through the window, and sighs, checking his phone* "I want to stay longer, chica, but," An apologetic grin*

"But you got stuff. Hey, thanks for walking me home."

"My pleasure." *He reaches to give her a one-armed hug* "Tell you all about it later, if I can, Bird-girl."

A squeeze back. "Sure thing! Stay safe, Luke, see you soon"

"He is careful not to crush her feathers; his hug is gentle. And he gives her a smile, before heading to the door, and stopping. He fishes in his pocket, and finds a -- well, oddly enough, a Ziploc of cookies. He pulls one out, and sets it on the plastic drawers, before heading out**

((1 token of Glamour))

((aw))

((^_^ Bird-girl needs it more. And he'll bring the drum-shell Friday, as promised. Do you know what it looks like?))

((I do!))

(Think she'll paint the head, too, if there's one)

((It's a large one, the 14" span))

((I don't know if he would put the head on, it would need the ropes and then she couldn't paint the shell as easily. If she suggests it, though, he can always bring it back after!)))

((cool))

(but now, bed. zoning in and out))

((Night!))

((night))