merchant_of_miracles: (this looks weird out of context)
[personal profile] merchant_of_miracles
The Merchant of Miracles was usually in the shop on Tuesday, but he had much bigger fish to fry today. Nahasapeemapedilon was on his own, because, apparently, some weird curse had settled in over the weekend, turned the Merchant into a very obnoxious (but impeccably dressed) singing robot assassin that not only broke the Merchant's cart, but then used some weird magic flute magic to entrap the unicorns within the debris of the cart.

Seriously, who does that?

At least it seemed...mostly salvageable, though that Scaramouche the Merciless really did a number on the Merchant's precious cart all the same. That was his house! That was his livelihood! He was practically naked without his cart! Granted, the cart had been through worse before, but that didn't take the sting out of the fact that the Merchant was going to wind up spending all day in the front yard trying to mend the pieces of his broken cart. It was no small task, which might explain the very loud litany of very creative curses* that accompanied all the hammering and sawing, sanding and drilling.

*He was from a family friendly franchise, after all.

[[and open post is open!]]

29 Chimera Court, Saturday Morning

Jul. 15th, 2017 09:01 am
firstofitskind: (z -  au - colonel kincaid)
[personal profile] firstofitskind
The first thing Liam noticed was the sound of the ocean. His apartment was nowhere near the ocean.

The second thing he noticed was that this was not his apartment.

"What in the goddamn hell is going on?" he muttered, looking around the room. There was a global lying on the table by the bed, so he picked it up and slid it open. None of the contacts looked familiar. Great. Maybe the wallet would yield better results?

... Or more confusing ones. The name on the photo ID was his, sure enough. But the picture? That was the impostor. The Major.

"And here I thought I was finally getting back to having a normal life," he muttered as he found something to wear (he figured if he'd let The Major borrow his name while he'd been undergound, the kid wouldn't mind if he borrowed some clothes this one time) and then left to try and get his bearings about wherever the hell he was.

[ooc: open, if some housemate-type-people happen to be around!]
merchant_of_miracles: (Default)
[personal profile] merchant_of_miracles
Being a little man living in a little cart in front of a house that doubled as a "unicorn" stable was fine when you were, indeed, a little man. Turns out it wasn't so ideal when you ceased to be a little man and instead became a very large robot assassin.

Scaramouche the Merciless thought nothing of the ruins of a cart scattered around him when he "woke up," but he was a little surprised by the one-eyed goat with a horn on its head licking at his face. "Oooh, careful, babe," he said, putting up a hand and gently pushing the goat away. "I wouldn't want to rust, and you should take a guy out to dinner first, man."

When he tried to get up, he noticed another goat nibbling on the hem of his fabulous purple jacket. "Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no, babe, these digs are not for goat digestion." Thankfully, it was easy to pick the goat up and set him aside. "Now if you'll excuse me, how about you babes just make with the grass, and I'll make with the phone and call Aku." He pulled a small pink phone out of his pocket. "Beep-beep-beep, ba-beep-boo-bep."

The phone didn't seem to be connecting, but the goats were back at the coat. "These goats," he shook his head, "have gone beaucoup cuckoo." But he had a solution, pulling out his magic flute, trilling a few notes that allowed the pieces of the broken cart to form a fence around the goats to keep them in place.

"That'll keep you crazy goats in your place," he said. "It's been fun, babe, but I've got to move on. Time for me to shuffle off stage. Au revoir, Chèvre. Scaramouche has got some business to attend to."

Although he didn't know what that business was, yet, but there had to be a reason he was here, right? He was Aku's Number One assassin, after all, he didn't just get sent somewhere for no reason. Maybe he'd just go find himself a drinky-poo to help him think while he sorted it all out, warming up those sweet vocal chords as he scoped out the new locale.

"~Bee da bap boop be bop-bop-bah.~"

[[ oh, yeah, baby! Most def open if anyone wants to hit up one real hip assassin cat, my man]]
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