Forums » Forum Games » ☽ The End of Your Bed ☾

“I suggest that you leave my quarters, and promptly ask for forgiveness from your Ironblood Princess outside my door! Or you can stay on the floor, and thank me for letting you stay. Your choice.”

"And I suggest you take leave of my flat," Sherlock demands rather assertively. It doesn't look as if the detective has slept in days, but it was the principle of the matter having a complete stranger in his otherwise meticulously organized bedroom.

Sherlock didn't appear alarmed by their presence, perhaps due to his course in life. He's seen it all, as it were, but there were standards he abided by, and rather quickly he was upright fixing the transient with an impartial stare. "I hope you didn't arouse Mrs. Hudson. While she's well acquainted with my particular clamor, a complete stranger at this hour would warrant something unexpectedly violent, I assure you."

“First a dryad, now Holmes himself is in my room, might as well set out a neon no/vacancy sign on my door. Just don’t make any noise for right now, I’m trying to devise a way to liberate a factory mass producing my fellow Metallics and selling them into slavery, unless you would want to lend the aid of your renowned genius to my endeavors?”

"Oh yes! You're that automaton from earlier. What a very fortunate encounter. Please come closer, I would like to study you."

Lumina yawns as she sits up from having been sprawled on an immense canopied bed, the dark red duvet slipping down off her figure to pool over her legs. Her long, snow-white hair was mussed from its braid and stuck up at odd, comical angles here and there. "Oh! A gnome, wandered far from your home, have you?" Surprise lifting her brows above golden eyes, "Come, come. I can escort you back outside, as I am certain you do not wish to wander the castle and risk getting lost."

After the last couple of encounters, Maisi is very careful as she peeks over the edge of her bed from her seated position on the floor, an old quilted blanket around her shoulders; upon spying the elegant woman she simply stares for several moments, disbelief and awe written across her features.

"...An angel?" she finally squeaks. "Am I dead? Did I stay up too late?" The young woman rubs at her eyes quickly, blinking and looking again just to make sure. "...This might sound weird, but can I draw you? If I'm not dead, of course..."

He sat up from his place on the forest floor, his long, black hair puddled around him.
"Are you lost, young one?" He smiled and pulled on his wolf skull mask.
"Make sure you don't tell anyone what I look like."

The Lion Taur's green eyes shone in the darkness and sharp white fangs grinned when he recognized a familiar scent.

"Oho! What is this!? The man that was questioning my gender the other day?? Well, it must be my birthday!"

Ravindra advanced towards the wolf skull mask wearing fellow and pulled his katars from his belt. The ringing of steel being dragged across the steel of his scabbards heard through the room.

"How about you knuckle up so we can see who's the better man?" The Lion Taur roared as he launched himself at Six, katars and lion claws ready to rend him to pieces.

*brings up a laser pointer*

"Hey sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do."

*red dot shakey shakey*

“Oi, get the CENSORED outta me room!”

Marinette wasn't really phased, that was until she noticed. "Wait... Did Hawkmoth send you!? Oh boy, here we go." She rolled out of bed, walked to the window, and jumped off into the night.

The artist quickly jumps out of the way of the other young woman, watching in utter confusion as she jumps out of the window like it was nothing. "Oh...oh dear. Ma'am?"

She stands and stalks over to the window, peeking out into the night before withdrawing into her room once more. A young, lithe black cat emerges from some hiding place known only to him and prances forward; Maisi scoops him up, looking around suspiciously. "Maybe we should just go hide in the closet before someone else pops up."

Maisi’s presence startled Taraviel, awakening him with a start. But given the chance to wipe the sleep from his eyes and come to his senses, he allowed his posture to soften. She didn’t seem to be hostile. “Hm... I was certain I’d locked that door behind me. I suppose the innkeeper let you in?” he asked the young woman. “No matter. More importantly, what troubles you, sister? If you’re here at this hour, it must be important.” He met eyes with the cat cradled in Maisi’s arms, offering him a polite smile but not wishing to overstep his boundaries by trying to pet him.

Kit seemed surprisingly unstartled. "H-Hi... Are you h-here to h-h-help?" He stuttered out softly before looking away, his bicoloured ears flattening to his head and his tail swaying beside him. "I-I've been having s-s-such a hard t-time sleeping, I keep s-seeing them..." He muttered.

Kit watched y/n sleep in his cat form, his ears flattened and his tail softly tapping his paws, half of his fur was white, a dark grey spot on his ear chest and the tip of his tail. The other half was dark grey, with the spots on his ear, flank, and base of his tail.

"Hi."

A multitude of red spider like eyes opened in the darkness, followed by a razor sharp looking grin.

"Come to snuggle up against me, little kitty? I am deceptively fluffy."

She blinks after waking up, grabs her bow, hat, and coat, and basically says “Nope” by jumping out the window.

"you can share my be.... nevermind seems like you chose jumping out the window that works i guess?"

he was confused but simply shrugged it off as humans being weird and climbed back into the bed to try taking a nap

Very quickly, Keanu would open her eyes, sharpen her senses, and get her wooden spoon she keeps in her nightstand for some reason.

"Ey! No! You creepy. Get outta' mah room 'less you want a wooden spoon wedged in yo' head."

Greg awoke immediately to the sounds of what seemed like someone fighting off an unknown offender, yet the oddity of it was however, the whole debacle was taking place in his very home. The policeman leapt from his bed, arming himself with a baton he kept near his nightstand. In the process of procuring his weapon, he'd nearly forgotten he was wearing very little, but that was the farthest thing in his mind as he prepped himself for combat.

"Oi!" he called out to the other who happened to be wielding a -- a spoon? "What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

And there he was in his skivvies, surrounded by an assortment of unruly belongings, carrying a baton and a look of utter confusion. Scotland Yard's finest.

"Gah!" they cried, almost falling off their bed at the sight of the man at the end of their bed. They grabbed their sword and a lantern, and shone it to him. "Y-You get out of here or I'll- wait... Greg Lestrade?!" a smile spread across their lips. "Oh, my, I take that back!"

They set down their sword, and crawled over to him and whispered, "In this case, I have a top secret mission for you."