I'm grabbing honeyed vines [Closed]

[prettypurpleparlor]

Who: Muffet, Chip, The Knight, Grimm, and The Drifter.
What: Harvesting honey from these beehives.
When: At various points from the tenth onward.
Where: Nuidan, the bee houses.
Warnings: None, unless you really don't like bugs.



[Muffet had chosen the beehives as her task to assist Harv with early on, but she suspected that others might like to benefit as well, and had been pleased to find a small group of volunteers when she made an offer over the network.]

[The weather is pleasant as she approaches the hives, surveying them thoughtfully.]

So, does anyone have any questions before we start? We probably ought to plan this out a bit, first...

Comments

No worries.

[prettypurpleparlor]

Excellent, I'll see what I can manage.

[Muffet's long since learned how to make good use of her extra hands for multitasking, absently plucking various bits of dry plants and grasses up from the undergrowth and braiding them together into a long torch as she moves.]

[lightlessfuture]

[ They look over at Grimm's voice, and the swift change in their body language is unmistakably sheepish. They don't need to speak to convey what's clearly the feeling of "Oops."

They place the frame where it's more easily accessible before removing their charm, as he asks; immediately becoming much smaller and leaving a swarm of confused bees behind. They're entirely docile in allowing themselves to be picked up and moved away by the Troupe Master; it's a comical contrast to their normal liveliness. ]

[hyperlit]

[Hey, look, it's fine. The idea was to not harm the bees, and while they might not be happy about this entire debacle, they certainly aren't damaged, which is for the best. Right? Right?]

[The Drifter instead settles for trying to usher Chip away from the confused buzzing. Probably best not to make things worse, now.]

[demonpuppy]

[Chip flinches a little bit at Muffet's instruction, but they aren't as tripped up by it as they might have been. Instead of wincing and apologizing they just whine and allow themself to be guided away from the cloud. A few bees follow them and Chip swats at them again.]

Leave me alone! Stupid!

[Huffing, they look up at Drifter with worry--they're mostly covered just like Chip is, but...]

Did you get stung?

[hyperlit]

[The Drifter merely blinks, once, the sole indication of their confusion that the child would be concerned as to their well-being.]

not very

[...or rather, if they did, they certainly haven't noticed it. The raised lump of a bee-sting is a more common hurt, and one that does not stand out from the same dull, chronic ache that suffuses their body all hours of the day. But they do point to their mantle, adjusting it slightly - it did protect them from the worst of it, after all.]

keep covered