Writing To The Ton.

Morning.

Male Employed Quarters, Theodore Mansion.

Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.

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"I see, you are all up already" Conan pointed out when he reached the twins place and they were outside just leisurely watching the area.

"Sir Conan" the acknowledged with smiles.

"Yes, your presence is needed in the…Oh just follow me" Conan.

Gabriel jumped down the fronts of the quarters, his neat clothes making Conan smile before he turned.

"Are we in trouble?" Gabriel.

Conan was already heading back his back to them. "It depends on your definition of trouble" he said simply.

"What does that even mean?" Tom whispered to Gabriel, he is in a big pants, one that is struggling to stay in the confines he had created with the rope on his waist.