[It doesn't take a genius to work out that Diarmuid is incredibly stressed out.
Though he's long since abandoned it in favour of feline company, his table is currently covered in an array of papers and there are even a few stray pages on the floor by his chair. One particularly curious sphinx is playing with what looks like a guest list and a scrap of coloured ribbon. Diarmuid, meanwhile, is on a nearby couch with another determinedly kneading his thighs, as though it might somehow make the muscle more comfortable through sheer persistence.
With a sigh, he ruffles its ears.]
... I don't suppose you want to organise this wedding, do you? [It looks (???) up at him, flicks its tail contemplatively, then hops off of his lap and darts away.] Didn't think so.
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early march, purramid cafe (lmk if this is okay!)
Though he's long since abandoned it in favour of feline company, his table is currently covered in an array of papers and there are even a few stray pages on the floor by his chair. One particularly curious sphinx is playing with what looks like a guest list and a scrap of coloured ribbon. Diarmuid, meanwhile, is on a nearby couch with another determinedly kneading his thighs, as though it might somehow make the muscle more comfortable through sheer persistence.
With a sigh, he ruffles its ears.]
... I don't suppose you want to organise this wedding, do you? [It looks (???) up at him, flicks its tail contemplatively, then hops off of his lap and darts away.] Didn't think so.