Snippet #1226769

Danse Mors sensing the presence of Quagmire creeping up on him, held himself more tightly. He turned his head to actively ignore him, focusing his attention on his playlist. Then suddenly, Quagmire's buzzing presence like a fly over rotting fruit, washed away from view as the battery symbol on his mp3 player blinked at him. His heart skipped a beat, which was strange as it didn't normally beat at all. "My tunes," he sputtered, "My... my... tunes... what the...? No... I recharged it this morning... I was guaranteed a 24 hour battery life!! Oh I'm calling my mom!" He ripped the headphones off his head and it occured to him that he had said this outloud, in a room full of gods, and that he, himself, was one as well. He wondered if any of them had caught moments of sinking into their human forms too deeply as well. Danse wouldn't ask, however, he refused to subject himself to their emotional misadventures of mortality. He didn't need to anyway. The monkey had began banging on the table like a petulant child and Danse flipped the headphones back on again to shield the piercing noise. "Anyone have a leash for that thing?" and yet as he said it, half a smile perched on his mouth and for a moment, it looked natural.