Sky Blue
Mae
Snowdrops
Ithradine
4323O2
Plank Sinatra
Izurich
vietmyke
shylarahAs an aside, the previous iteration of the game's a fun little read. Really interesting comparing and contrasting this cast and the OGs.
HereComesTheSnow Member
dehydration expert
STATUS: trying to find the "golden ratio" of weed and ozempic to cause my appetite to stack overflow and reactivate the long-dormant photosynthesis gene from that 50% of DNA we share with plants. will update 12 days ago
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12 days ago
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trying to find the "golden ratio" of weed and ozempic to cause my appetite to stack overflow and reactivate the long-dormant photosynthesis gene from that 50% of DNA we share with plants. will update
3
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1 mo ago
many people dont know this but a good cue for deadlifting is to bring your chest up and lock your lats for proper spinal stability. this also applies to interacting with gorillas i'm told. testing no—
2
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3 mos ago
yeah i work in area 51, it's pretty chill. usually you just get a tweaker roll by on a "spiritual journey" once a month. they tend to go away once you put a few AIM-9s downrange on their flying saucer
2
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4 mos ago
man is closest to god after an ice cold beer in the warm shower. his mind and body are freed. next closest is behind the wheel in a scool zone, also with an ice cold beer in hand. study this well.
3
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5 mos ago
yeah mom its me can you come pick me up me and the boys were wondering if pulling a potato peeler over tommy's behelit would wake up the little guy in there and it started screaming.. thanks love you
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D:
no pageantry no problem. reon bless though we say Goddesses with a capital G in this house
might not be playing gerard rough enough around the edges lol
gill out here for blood
gill out here for blood
Gerard Segremors
I don't deserve to fight alongside a comrade as exemplary as Sir Fleuri Jodeau.
Gerard marvelously concealed a sigh of relief from his now-captivated audience, nodding along with the avatar of his Goddess's mercy's recounting of the skirmish. Paladin Tyaethe's abandonment was worrying, yes, but as he followed her gaze during the brief dialogue between the three he found it to be an inevitability. Their Captain had found herself similarly accosted by high society— and even without the slimy air that surrounded the man, it was only natural that she prioritize supporting their representative. Not some newbie in over his head.
Still, that had left him in a bit of a bind. He was lucky to have not lost their attention the moment "bandit" left his mouth, in truth. As the knights had written off this mission on the ride to it, he would have expected those who hadn't witnessed the man's ferocity firsthand to make the same mistake. But it seemed that there was yet one knight he could rely upon to set him upright as he stumbled his way through this, a man who, continually, seemed as the ideal Gerard chased. With Jarde in tow, all it took him was three sentences.
"It was as Sir Jodeau says. I don't know about a Fallen Divine, but he was a monster of a man. He cut down the burning tree to separate the Captain from the rest of us," he continued, gesturing towards the collected nobleman. "Though if I'm going to speak of my participation in our clash with Jeremiah, I owe it to him that I even got there."
He was no braggart, and knew when others deserved credit. Especially more than they were allotting themselves. Fleuri's humility reflected well upon him, and Gerard respected the man all the more for it, but it did not change that he was instrumental in whatever tale the former mercenary had of the Bandit King.
"You cleared the path for me, Sir, and urged me forward." he said, meeting the eyes of the man backing away. "For that I have to thank you."
And as he gave him an opportunity then, so too did he now... right? Despite commanding the conversation with grace, the eldest of the three knights had ceded the attention back to he and Jarde, just as he'd cut off that trio of bandits to let Gerard and Renar pass unobstructed and engage Jeremiah in earnest.
If he knew not to waste one, then surely the other held a similar weight.
Court was its own battlefield.
Approach it with courage.
"Anyways," he continued, inclining his head to Angenese and her drill-haired friend, still yet unnamed. "I won't lie to you two, it would be a tough fight for me on my own. The man held a sword the size of me— in simply parrying a quick thrust, he forced me to spin with the strike against my blade, or risk it getting snapped." he said, first raising a hand to roughly eye level to illustrate the immense sword Jeremiah had carried, then motioning with his head to the pommel that peeked over his right shoulder.
He really wasn't sure how to appease the youngest of the three, clad in all black. Obviously she held little interest in a tale of battle, and seemed to be of a more realistic mind than her peers regarding the skirmish. Certainly nowhere near so awestruck.
"In fact, I'm certain of it." he gestured to Jarde, then Fanilly, then Tyaethe. "Without our teamwork, on my own I wouldn't have been standing here to regale you. He was that kind of monster. Stronger than me by far, and despite his size, at least as fast— and skilled enough to turn aside not only my own attack, but those of everyone there save the Captain, who managed to knock an arm out of commission. And he still fought through it."
Not quite an embellishment. Knight-Captain Fanilly definitely did cripple that hand, it was just before he'd arrived.
"It wasn't until our dear Artificer, who unfortunately couldn't attend tonight, blew him up that I landed a solid hit— right at the end. Sir Devaron here's much quicker on his feet than I— his agility, from what I recall, served him much better than my aggression." he looked to Jarde for confirmation. Perhaps passing the ball to him would give an opportunity to ask what troubled the third of their number— much like dividing a group of opponents in battle.
i trusted you!!!!!
I keep telling myself I'm gonna make a shorter post and then I keep not
Gerard Segremors
The contrast of black gown and red eyes upon alabaster skin and snow-colored hair popped into the young swordsman's peripheral vision, to say nothing of her immense, ever-present blade. He looked up from his plate, and rather than casting his gaze beyond a pale child as he was accustomed to, she had evidently decided to take the form of a woman. One he still towered over at present, yes, but not so obviously locked into an eternal youth.
"More befuddled than annoyed, for the most part." Gerard replied, raising his glass in greeting and thanks to Paladin Tyaethe Radistirin. She'd shown up just as he'd helped himself to a slice of ham, the salty and savory flavor complimented by the sweetness of a honey and brown sugar crust. Between mouthfuls he had downed a little more of his spiced wine, but for all her short (if now definitively adult) stature, it seemed the First and Youngest had already matched his intake. "I guess I don't quite yet look the part of an Iron Rose in armor."
...Could a vampire get drunk? There was, in truth, scarcely little he understood about them beyond the basics of their legend— the antipathy they faced from holy Reon, their need to consume blood through the fangs to survive, plus her plainly evident strength. Beyond that, little else. Something about garlic or running water...
Still— vampire or not, a comrade was a comrade. Though Segremors considered himself a fairly staunch Reonite, having burned more than a few white lilies since even boyhood, he held no doubts as to the Paladin's allegiances to their order, or their protectorate. With easily eight or even nine times as much distinguished service as an Iron Rose as he had years upon the Earth, it would be presumptuous in the utmost to even consider.
"Though, I now that I think about it, there may have been a man in blue and gold that was trying to curse me from afar over that way." he continued, unceremoniously jerking a thumb in the general direction he had seen the rather rotund nobleman (assuming his guess was correct), nearer to the cake. "Some talk about 'riffraff', 'mercenaries', that sort of thing—"
"Aaaaah, Sir Knight! See? Didn't I tell you they would be here?!"
Hm?
"Ah, how exciting! Yoohoo, Sir Knight!"
Uh oh.
He had been surrounded. If this were a battlefield, he'd have been dead on the spot unless it was again Dame Radistirin that he had been conversing with— In what felt like a flash, three young women of obvious status far above his own had crowded around him, pleading for tales of adventure and gallantry from, of all knights present, him. A commoner and a greenhorn, who had not even spent a year inside the hallowed halls of Candaeln. It was all too recently that he hadn't even shown his face on the field of battle, instead witnessing hell beneath brown hood and leather mask.
He was afraid of this. Afraid of exactly this happening, as it were. He had never been much of an orator to begin with in his mind, and he scarcely knew what stories to share. His eyebrows shot up and he, so taken aback by the sudden barrage of titters and requests, found himself recoiling a bit, as though his body believed he could lean out of their way and let the words pass by.
"Uh..."
Gerard's eyes, amber and bright with a panic that had never shown itself on the battlefield in the last half-decade, flicked over to meet those of Tyaethe. She had experience in spades, both with knightly quests and with noble girls. Hers were the tales they wanted. Not his. They wished to hear tell of adventure and heroism.
Not a faceless mercenary trudging through the mud and smoke. I suppose that narrows things down a quite a bit, doesn't it? Luckily, only last night we rode home from one of the missions that remains.
As pedestrian as we all thought it to be. Funny.
Clearing his throat, the young knight returned his gaze to the trio, passing it amongst each one as he stalled, manufacturing a moment to recollect himself. His hands, still holding food and drink, relieved themselves of the latter by way of him downing the rest and setting the empty glass back upon the table. He held liquor well by necessity, all it amounted to was just a little greasing of the wheels up top.
He met them this time with a genial, friendly smile.
Just don't overdo it, Sagramore, and we'll be fine.
"Well, you must forgive how green a Rose I am, firstly. I don't have much time within the Order to speak of..."
The two that were really driving this had an eagerness and exuberance that he didn't want to let down. The third's exasperation, despite being much closer to something he felt he could handle, seemed almost lost against their dazzling whimsy. He'd been in a similar position many times in his band of mercenaries; the quieter one who nevertheless tagged along with their less reserved peers.
"However, we did just yesterday return from slaying the Bandit King and his crew of brigands, under the leadership of our new Captain. Paladin Tyaethe and I actually both got the chance to cross swords with that bastard."
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