http://bigdamndestiny.livejournal.com/ (
bigdamndestiny.livejournal.com) wrote in
fandomhighdorms2009-01-06 10:31 am
Entry tags:
The Stables, Tuesday Afternoon
When it became painfully clear that there were no servants to help him in caring for Arthur's horse, Merlin found himself down in the stables. Mucking out a stall.
Destiny owed him big for this.
"How does one horse produce that much?" He asked--well, he asked the horses there. Not that they could answer him, of course.
[[Open, of course!]]
Destiny owed him big for this.
"How does one horse produce that much?" He asked--well, he asked the horses there. Not that they could answer him, of course.
[[Open, of course!]]

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Because Merlin was a PIMP.Merlin peered out of the stall, looking for the source of the laughter. That was... certainly new.
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"Hush, now don't you go scaring people just because you think it's funny they've never seen a talking horse. You remember Arrow." Adora could only encourage good behavior from her beloved steed, there was no forcing it.
"Yes, yes, now where is this new boy?" Spirit was beyond curious.
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At least he'd had the dragon to break him of gaping like a fish at a talking animal. "Err-- nice to meet you."
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Spirit inclined his head at the boy. "It is my pleasure, young sir."
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"There was a, uh, magical incident," Spirit added helpfully.
"Yes, magical," Adora repeated with a smile.
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Which was still less strange than the technology here. That might be a bit wrong.
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Spirit grumbled, ears twitching, "How Horde-like.
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Even if he didn't agree with it.
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