(And speaking of misadventures....
)
For a scrapyard, the ceilings have nary a crack on any part of their ceiling or walls. Then again, since nothing's happened in the past few minutes, Hierophant could only assume the robot in charge had gotten too use to the obnoxious crow's innate cries and chose to ignore them.
He could go back to watching over the cards in World's place, but knowing that disassembling robots lacking in proper armory would need to oil themselves every now and then, it still wouldn't be a good idea to continue camping out in such an obvious location. It was probably best to leave now before that happens.
Keeping a careful weight on the hand pressed against the wall, Hierophant lifts the leg on the opposite side of his body and attempts to turn and slip it back onto the skull-patterned, tile floor only to feel his other foot slip from the curved corners of the tub, dropping him into the oil bath. Panicked, he grabbed the corners of the tub, barely keeping his head, back, arms and stuck out leg from suffering the same fate as the rest of his body, all the while the minor tidal wave pushed Death to the edge of the tub, surprisingly not dampening or startling her still content posture.
"Finally decided to join me, eh?" Death chuckles, "Should've thought twice before using a oil-slicked tub as your stepping stone."
Hierophant struggles to keep his calm as he staggers to his drenched foot while slipping the other onto the floor outside the tub, looking down to find his once green and white miter tinted in dark, oily stains. He goes through the process of squeezing out any dripping oil that might leave a trail while shaking some more out of his drenched leg and once green boot before grabbing Death and heading for the door leading back into the scrapyard.
Upon opening the door and looking around, he finds that Reggae was nowhere around, either suggesting he had gotten bored and left, or the robot in charge got tired of his annoying squawking and threw him out. Either way, it gives him the opportunity to sneak out without being caught, sticking close to the wall as the best means of staying clear out of the robot's sights.
Berbil Jane, meanwhile, drags Raggae to the very crate her red and orange brethren hid in earlier and tosses him into it, kicking the door shut and wandering off until he regained his senses and pecked his way out.