Hawlin — Roleplayer Guild

"Said ta turn it? Reverse?"
"Nah, iz someszink about leavink. Inspectink zee town, no doubt"
"Ya aimin' t'rifle through it'all ah ye?"
"Shhhush! Iz not riflink if I help"

The edges of Ansel and Wyte's heads peeked out from the corner of a doorframe as they watched Marcus announce and take his leave. Behind the corner, Wyte reached behind his back to pour Ansel a cup of black tea which they held over their shoulder to catch. The two stepped back, Wyte on the tips of his toes and turning with a pirouette  to retrieve a silver tray of other cups while Ansel took a sip and shuddered, flourishing a cube of sugar from the small bowl. Wyte, however, tried to remain in sync and paused with an annoyed expression, watching Ansel calmly stir the brew before lifting an eyebrow to look over at the impatient doppleganger.

"Wot? Y'made it strong an'it- ooh fine fine" Ansel groaned, setting the cup on the tray and holding his hands out to mimick Wyte who offered a genuine smile before stepping into the other. They fizzled and rippled as they occupied the other's space, perfectly synchronized to the point of pushing their spectacles up the bridge of their nose and flicking an ear until they were once more one.
He didn't miss a beat, hard soles clicking along the floor as they strolled down the hall in the direction of the entrance. While reaching the hatter's office required him to walk almost half way across the estate, Ansel Wyte figured it would be worth taking the route to greet Moxie under the assumption that they would live up to their namesake. Also, walking the opposite direction was hardly an efficient way to reach a destination.

"Hellooo~" They chirped, looking around the entryway and proceeding on after finding only faint disappointment which he quickly shrugged off.

'Blegh, paperwork' he internally and redundantly outwardly mused as he looked over the mess of papers and taking a sip of tea to calm his composure. "Egh! Blegh! Rodents" the paperwork snidely replied...well, The Hare replied for the pile, narrowing his eyes as if having taken slight offence. "Best sort yourself, insults are highly unbecoming...even from one with such a flat affect" the hare teased, setting the tray down and looking over the papers without a clue in the world where to start. "Puns? So much class, and that's the harshest you can sass?" the exchange continued as the hare began shifting mages around in the opposite way they were strewn across the desk, paying attention to detail. "It is all I am willing to invest..." he sighed, picking up and shifting a small stack of bank statements and groaning to himself.
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The Jaded

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