Putting A Lid Guillotine On Pandora's Box

"Oh, you have two vials. That makes this a lot simpler than I thought this was going to be," the cyborg breathes a sigh of relief, still holding onto the goblin with his one arm. This would probably be a lot safer if he tucked her under his arm or she rode on his back or something, but eww, no thanks. We've already been a lot closer than we'd ever like to be to a bunch of grimy little gobbos today. Keeping them at arm's length both literally and figuratively is much safer in the long-term, lest any of them get ideas after this and think they've made friends with their begrudging client. These little monsters are not people Magtok wants to invite over for movie night. He's not even sure they all legally qualify as people.

"Okay, it's almost here. Just toss the first one now, and then we'll swoop around and save the second one for just before the monster is ready to die. I'll say when," Mag instructs, glancing down at the other gobs and the encroaching monsters that are getting closer and closer a lot faster than he'd like them to. This'll be closer than he'd like.


(^≗ω≗^) What if We Kissed In The MagCave Residential Infirmary? And We Were Both Morons? (☉౪ ⊙)

"I don't know if I'd say I'm on speaking terms with-" he pauses for a moment to consider what he was about to tell her, and whether or not it's actually true or just something he wishes was true, because part of him still clings to the paradoxical, mischievous, two-faced (anti)villain past. "I don't know if I like the suggestion that I'm on speaking terms with Vigil and HALO, but it's probably for the best I put those feelings aside and admit that I am." Just don't ever tell anyone he said that, okay? Especially not anyone in HALO or Vigil.

"But anyways, if you want to take that step, uh-" the cyborg unconsciously glances towards an empty infirmary bed, before inwardly scowling at himself and delivering an imaginary slap to the part of his psyche that let that slip. The intended end of that sentence was not 'when do we start?' you libidinous little lowlife. "We should get around to picking a day to visit city hall and get the paperwork signed, maybe buy or steal or forge a ring ahead of time. 7/7 is an easy anniversary day to remember, but I don't know if you want to take off from work on a Thursday. 8/8 is closer to the weekend, but it's two whole months from now, so people will know I was just trying to make it look like we weren't having a kid out of wedlock, and imagine the scandal when word gets out that Caelynn and Magtok, those stupid reckless impulsive kids, were fooling around too much until the consequences finally caught up with them," Magtok feigns a melodramatic gasp, acting like the gossipy tabloids that part of him still desperately wishes would write stuff about him instead of Blanche and a grizzly bear, or Cessie and Jezebel, or Wenomir and one of seven different elves he's never heard of. Ugh, elves.