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Lovecraft listened for a moment before muttering in some ancient tongue as he turned away from the bars, slipping his fabric wrapped hands deep into his coat pockets. He glanced around the small cell and pursed his lips. It was quite obvious whoever was behind the thick stone walls knew who he was and what he could do. What somewhat worried him (not really) was how seemingly unconcerned they were by this information. “Like a Noden in the day,” he muttered, grinning at his own poeticness.

“Ello!” He called loudly as he turned back toward the bars, “where’s that bobby pin I asked for?”

“Right here.”

Lovecraft raised an eyebrow as the two figures came into view. What looked to be a girl…. flower held up a bobby pin. A Stellad, no doubt, he mused, his eyes flicking over a figure clad in red armor. Out of all the colors…

The dark-haired writer shoved the thoughts into the back of his mind as he let a charming yet rather obnoxious smile spread across his face. “Ah! My my, did you take a wrong turn at the crossing of “What took so long” and  “Hurry up?”

They stared at him blankly until finally, the Stellad held up the pin.

He nodded, taking the small device and slipping it into the lock. He fiddled with it until the lock gave with a resounding click. Sighing in satisfaction he stepped from the cell. He pulled out his pen and held it up, relieved to see the golden ink at its tip.

“So now then,” he turned toward the two with a smile, “I am Lovecraft. Who might you be?”

——————-

(is tempted to put in Aiden.)