Sky Blue
Mae
Snowdrops
Ithradine
4323O2
Plank Sinatra
Izurich
vietmyke
shylarahyou could grab finn, i dunno what he’s doing over here with us :^)
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 11 days ago
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11 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
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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—
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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
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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.
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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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witch queen (i never got far enough to see if it was revealed)
tadaima
The door to the hall, as always, opened unceremoniously in comparison to the ruckus abound at its front.
Well, that's gonna take a bit to clear out.
It was certainly an apt descriptor of the man that floated in afterwards, "unceremonious". It bled through his every movement, from the quiet, casual gait to the plain greens and browns of his humble clothing. The burlap sack held in his right hand swung freely as he ambled on in, and there was little expression any could read on his face as he scanned the hordes of swarming adventurers.
Chiefly because there was no way anyone could see his face to begin with. It was as much a mystery as Jane Doe's, off there in the corner fretting over some sort of paperwork. A woman in full armor, her helm was as omnipresent as his hood, even during tiny, menial tasks like that. Her story was that she had a truly grotesque visage, and concealed her horrid looks for fear of getting run out of town. Again.
While he wasn't sure somebody that ugly could exist— and he'd seen some hideous bastards as a mercenary— his reasoning for the concealment was much simpler. Rather than a kindness to the world, sparing them of a cursed form, it was a particularly selfish and churlish thing, borne from a realization when wearing a mask of plain leather for five years prior. He knew that people would go great lengths to see it, so...
By now it's just funny.
In any case, it was clear that he was at home here, in this loud and chaotic hall. He continued on after he spared a glance towards the lonesome woman, unfettered by the clamor, and his concealed eyes quickly pierced through the milling mass to settle upon an admittedly already distinct pair. That sunset blonde hair, for instance, never stood still long enough to not notice. She made for a good reference point as he took a long path around, unwilling to try and fight his way through all those people just for the sake of a straight line.
Good reference point... And a horrible financial demon. There was a reason he'd waited until now to show himself, and it squarely belonged to her, Cassia van Zyl. Sure, the half-elf was at first glance cute, but make no mistake— if you left her and your gold in a room together for five minutes, all you'd return to was some bread crumbs on the floor. She was a master at losing money, had no financial responsibility whatsoever. Of course he wasn't gonna let her in on where he went!
And the thunderhead in blue wasn't someone you should let fool you either, but when it came to this moment, Sigi and her northerly background would have been far more reliable than the mercurial, eternally broke, and seemingly insatiable Cass.
Would have been, if she wasn't asleep when he had the window to make it to town unmolested...
She'd die down past Thaln.
So he'd gone alone. They were, honestly, really lucky to have him around. Were it not for him, they'd be destitute, homeless, vagrants without a penny to their name or a meal in their stomachs after one wasted it all when the other couldn't bring themself to rein them in. They really should listen to what he said more. For instance.
"Don't feed the animals, Sieglinde." a gruff voice sounded out from behind the woman with one of the largest blades in the room. "It makes 'em depend on you. They never learn to fend for themselves."
Cassia was very clearly, despite a lack of eye contact, being either looked at or stared down, depending on how she interpreted his body language.
Sieglinde, the owner of the dubious yet well-earned position of "second-most-reliable person in the party", received an unceremonious (there's that word again, see?) clap on the back to drive his words home.
Finn...
Meh.
Fanilly's group, so you guys if you followed the Princess.
Gerard Segremors
It seems I've been ignored.
Why?
That little joke wasn't that weird, was it?
Somewhat befuddled, the young man looked on as Fleuri began to stalk forward. Admittedly, Gerard did carry himself much more seriously when they usually spoke— but for the entirety of the bash, his senior Reonite had been nothing if not poised and affable. If any of them were at home in such a setting it was he— without inexperience to shackle his mind nor fear to dull his tongue, Segremors had been counting upon his guidance for further conduct. And here a simple greeting had gotten him blown off wholly.
Which, given his erstwhile support, made no sense.
Look closer, he told himself, he's made of sterner stuff than balking at jest, same as you.
Fleuri Jodeau, despite noble birth and respectable background, was indeed at the core much like Gerard Segremors— A man of the sword. A man of warfare. Though their reasons for taking up arms were, as he imagined it, wildly different, on that level they had been informed much the same. It was one of the reasons he had looked up to the man— and why he, perhaps presumptuously, believed he could read the man better than he could others.
Fleuri's posture had changed as he marched off. Where before he was placidly mingling, he now moved in a straight, direct line— bearing forward as if to lean into his stride. His eyes, every so often, leapt away from his destination to flit amongst the crowd that he was cutting through. His expression had firmed. Concerns of image and etiquette had fallen to the wayside now, that much was clear. His movement was filled with determination.
Purpose.
Urgency.
Something's up.
And if it had that composed man dropping the act to report to The First and Youngest with such immediacy, then Gerard considered himself spooked too. While the disappearing tower cake was a curiosity... he doubted that was the cause for alarm. He exhaled through his nose, mouth forming a hard line as his gaze fruitlessly danced through the throng. A fat noble there, an offered platter of hors d'oeuvres here...
Nothing's jumping out at me.
Gerard, after that moment's contemplation and search, began to follow. One thing was abundantly clear— this was no time for hesitation. He needed to get an ear on the situation. As he flowed through the mass of people, he could feel the tension beginning to settle into his mind as well as his frame. His shoulders tightened beneath the pauldrons he wore, and his gaze began to narrow.
"Excuse me."
Even his voice gained a firmer edge, approaching clipped. He hadn't noticed any ruffled feathers yet, but luckily those that had gathered in front of him didn't need much convincing to let him pass. Perhaps it was the armor that made the difference, he found himself musing. Or the blade upon his back? Tough to say. So long as he got through, though, he could be content with not knowing, at least for now. There were far more important things to establish.
He was forced to stop, however, and speak. As he exited the crowd, Segremors had basically stepped out right in front of the two most important people in attendance.
"Ah— Captain. Princess."
...Somewhere in the back of his mind, Gerard dully noted that for all his professed concerns, he had twice now ended up disregarding decorum. Perhaps propriety wasn't in his future. This time he hadn't even thought before he'd plainly greeted the two most important people in attendance.
No matter. He still knew better than to barge right through them, but he'd take a reprimand so long as he could ensure nothing went awry.
If something would. Just as luck would have it, they had through pure circumstance perfectly intercepted his path to Sir Fleuri, who was currently filling in Jerel and Tyaethe. Seemed like his curiosity would need to wait, at least for the moment. Glancing over the retinue of knights that had followed, he spoke again.
"Everyone well?"
Nah, you're good. Thanks.
Can I assume the knights and Eliabelle are headed towards the cake table? Getting to work on a post and I don't want to misinterpret positions.
ouch, cold shoulder
Guess I'd better not humbly downplay myself in front of Elwen, fucking ow
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