04-22-2018, 07:19 PM
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[div style="background-color: #e3dfdf; width: 305px; border-bottom: 1px solid black; border-left: 1px solid black; border-right: 1px solid black; padding: 10px; line-height: 110%; word-wrap: break-word; text-align: justify; margin: auto; color: black; font-family: Georgia; text-size: 6pt"]Bastille wasn't particularly big on giving tasks, per se. He could and would do it as necessary, fulfilling the responsibilities asked of him, but that did not mean he liked having others stare at him expectantly. He had a general opposition to authority and preferred to stay away from it, thanks.
When he did give tasks, however, he tried to pick shit based on personality. As he ambled up after the others, listening idly to Suite give assignments, he decided that she had them figured out well enough. He stared a little too hard as she assigned the garden to Margy, and squinted at her. How did she know that the other femme had wanted to build a garden? Bast refused to believe it was chance, and he looked between them pointedly before clearing his throat and drawling, "Hi, Suite. I'll take one too."
Honey, you're familiar, like my mirror years ago, Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword, Innocence died screaming; honey, ask me, I should know, I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door. [b][sup]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃[/sup][/b]