MYO-047: Kuro

"Unless we want patrons to continue to track mud and detritus through the church, I suggest we get ourselves outside and start cleaning up. The path up to the chapel is entirely overwhelmed with mushrooms. Who would have guessed that ignoring my suggestion to pave the walkway would, indeed, be detrimental to the church." A familiar voice grumbles. Kuro's arms are crossed, his brow is furrowed heavy over his eyes, and he stares out of the front doors of the church toward the yard and ...

As a general rule, Kuro does n o t imbibe. He drank when he was a younger bun, certainly - by the bottle full. Those were years when he could afford to swerve his motorcycle across the road and around the burrow streets and end up dragging his drunken tail into his home. Of course, it's not that his body has changed significantly, as succubuns are gifted with long and hard to end lives, but it's a mental block! He's old dammit - or he's going to act like it, at least! Ignore the fac...

“You seem relaxed,” Mercy almost hums, running their fingers through a set of wispy grey bangs. The owner of said bangs sucks his teeth, lifts his hand, and swats her fingers away from his forehead. Undaunted, they come right back.  “I must say, I was far more relaxed before a certain someone decided to accompany me on my excur...

“Any good Imp looks best in a tie, Kuro,” Taro complains to his boyfriend.Kuro, meanwhile, is holding his two egghels. One creature sits in the palm of each of his hands, barely peeping out of their shells, glaring at Taro from the safety of them. Kuro’s own face is in a similar disposition, a frown of disappointment at his boyfrien...

Two dolls stand on the burrowgatory beach… and neither of them want to be there. Kuro is setting up a booth, currently, on the edge of the path to the waterway. The table is stacked with bunbles. Beside the table is a cooler filled with ice and bottles of water. Such is the perfect tactic, crafted by Mercy themselves, to lure in buns off the hot sand and to the table dedicated to the religion so their most willing, most eager, most charismatic priest can attem...

This year has been a particular hell for one priest. It feels to him like he's spent the entirety of it dressed up in one way or another. One season he's being squeezed into a frilly pink apron and tight underthings, the next he's laced into a nun's robe instead of his usual very clean and sophisticated corset and priest's garb, packed up in multiple layers of sweaters, or wobbling around uncomfortably in a Halloween costume. This evening, Mercy has successfully wrangled him into a proper sui...