"Yeah, yeah..." Deacon waved his hand dismissively. "Just let me bask in my moment of glory, would ya?"
The younger elf grimaced as he was reminded that training started the next morning. Well, he had said he was up to the challenge, but damn, after over two hundred years you'd think he was trained enough. Though he had a feeling this was going to be a lot more of a bitch than anything he'd done before.
"Sure thing, Boss. One huge hunk of meat coming up." Deacon got up smirking, but hurried to do as he'd been told. As soon as he was in the main hall he was ambushed by Desire, who was glaring at him.
"What in the hell took you so long? These gorillas would know an insult from a compliment, and they're drunk and touchy-feely." She pouted, not liking when the other outlaws hit on her.
"Oh stop whining and fetch a nice big plate of roast for the boss, would ya?" She gave him a sour look and stuck her tongue out at him before stalking off to do as she was told. Not bothering to wait he ran back up the steps and sauntered back over to the chair by the bed.
"My sister is bringing it, but she's a lazy, slow bitch, probably should have asked somebody else." He chuckled, but the Boss had said the first rat he saw...
"I am not slow or lazy, and I'm not your serving wench either." Desire snapped, as she appeared carrying a large platter of meat, bringing it over to the bed and scowling unhappily at her twin brother.