*Eh you know what? I’ve got a few minutes. Screw it.* *Hi guys! How’s it going?*
A pale man dressed in fine black clothing walks into the tavern. His age is decidedly unclear, he looks to be in his early thirties, but his eyes betray a cold intelligence indicative of a being centuries older. He wears an ornate pair of black leather riding gloves with gold embroidery. His curly mop of black hair gently overshadows his icy blue eyes. A renaissance style mustache and goatee sprouts from his chin and upper lip. He takes a table for himself and signals for a waiter.
*I think i know who this is but im not completely sure*
Thatcher looks up and narrows his cold grey eyes. The Scottish general stands up and jumps behind the bar, setting the brandy bottle back before grabbing a unopened one and walking back to his desk.
*Really? Who do you think?* *Also, Scottish general? This man gets more interesting by the minute*
”Help yourself privileges, eh?” The man calls out, as he walks up to the bar. “I’m liking this place more by the minute.”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
This is ItsNotAChest’s alternate, so no some random psychopath hasn’t stolen their storylines/posts. Or maybe I did. Who knows…
I am what happens when you write character concepts on a spice high
*Eh you know what? I’ve got a few minutes. Screw it.* *Hi guys! How’s it going?*
A pale man dressed in fine black clothing walks into the tavern. His age is decidedly unclear, he looks to be in his early thirties, but his eyes betray a cold intelligence indicative of a being centuries older. He wears an ornate pair of black leather riding gloves with gold embroidery. His curly mop of black hair gently overshadows his icy blue eyes. A renaissance style mustache and goatee sprouts from his chin and upper lip. He takes a table for himself and signals for a waiter.
*I think i know who this is but im not completely sure*
Thatcher looks up and narrows his cold grey eyes. The Scottish general stands up and jumps behind the bar, setting the brandy bottle back before grabbing a unopened one and walking back to his desk.
*Really? Who do you think?* *Also, Scottish general? This man gets more interesting by the minute*
”Help yourself privileges, eh?” The man calls out, as he walks up to the bar. “I’m liking this place more by the minute.”
"Aye" he says and uncorks it, pouring himself a glass. He smiles "Care for one?"
*This is Thatcher Gale. Owner of the Gale Alliance, a secret organization that kills off planar evils.* *aaaaand is this Krathian??*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
*Eh you know what? I’ve got a few minutes. Screw it.* *Hi guys! How’s it going?*
A pale man dressed in fine black clothing walks into the tavern. His age is decidedly unclear, he looks to be in his early thirties, but his eyes betray a cold intelligence indicative of a being centuries older. He wears an ornate pair of black leather riding gloves with gold embroidery. His curly mop of black hair gently overshadows his icy blue eyes. A renaissance style mustache and goatee sprouts from his chin and upper lip. He takes a table for himself and signals for a waiter.
*I think i know who this is but im not completely sure*
Thatcher looks up and narrows his cold grey eyes. The Scottish general stands up and jumps behind the bar, setting the brandy bottle back before grabbing a unopened one and walking back to his desk.
*Really? Who do you think?* *Also, Scottish general? This man gets more interesting by the minute*
”Help yourself privileges, eh?” The man calls out, as he walks up to the bar. “I’m liking this place more by the minute.”
"Aye" he says and uncorks it, pouring himself a glass. He smiles "Care for one?"
*This is Thatcher Gale. Owner of the Gale Alliance, a secret organization that kills off planar evils.* *aaaaand is this Krathian??*
“Indeed, it’s been quite a ride to get here.”
*Dang, that sounds really cool actually. And no, close but no cigar.*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
This is ItsNotAChest’s alternate, so no some random psychopath hasn’t stolen their storylines/posts. Or maybe I did. Who knows…
I am what happens when you write character concepts on a spice high
*Eh you know what? I’ve got a few minutes. Screw it.* *Hi guys! How’s it going?*
A pale man dressed in fine black clothing walks into the tavern. His age is decidedly unclear, he looks to be in his early thirties, but his eyes betray a cold intelligence indicative of a being centuries older. He wears an ornate pair of black leather riding gloves with gold embroidery. His curly mop of black hair gently overshadows his icy blue eyes. A renaissance style mustache and goatee sprouts from his chin and upper lip. He takes a table for himself and signals for a waiter.
*I think i know who this is but im not completely sure*
Thatcher looks up and narrows his cold grey eyes. The Scottish general stands up and jumps behind the bar, setting the brandy bottle back before grabbing a unopened one and walking back to his desk.
*Really? Who do you think?* *Also, Scottish general? This man gets more interesting by the minute*
”Help yourself privileges, eh?” The man calls out, as he walks up to the bar. “I’m liking this place more by the minute.”
"Aye" he says and uncorks it, pouring himself a glass. He smiles "Care for one?"
*This is Thatcher Gale. Owner of the Gale Alliance, a secret organization that kills off planar evils.* *aaaaand is this Krathian??*
“Indeed, it’s been quite a ride to get here.”
*Dang, that sounds really cool actually. And no, close but no cigar.*
*Eh you know what? I’ve got a few minutes. Screw it.* *Hi guys! How’s it going?*
A pale man dressed in fine black clothing walks into the tavern. His age is decidedly unclear, he looks to be in his early thirties, but his eyes betray a cold intelligence indicative of a being centuries older. He wears an ornate pair of black leather riding gloves with gold embroidery. His curly mop of black hair gently overshadows his icy blue eyes. A renaissance style mustache and goatee sprouts from his chin and upper lip. He takes a table for himself and signals for a waiter.
*I think i know who this is but im not completely sure*
Thatcher looks up and narrows his cold grey eyes. The Scottish general stands up and jumps behind the bar, setting the brandy bottle back before grabbing a unopened one and walking back to his desk.
*Really? Who do you think?* *Also, Scottish general? This man gets more interesting by the minute*
”Help yourself privileges, eh?” The man calls out, as he walks up to the bar. “I’m liking this place more by the minute.”
"Aye" he says and uncorks it, pouring himself a glass. He smiles "Care for one?"
*This is Thatcher Gale. Owner of the Gale Alliance, a secret organization that kills off planar evils.* *aaaaand is this Krathian??*
“Indeed, it’s been quite a ride to get here.”
*Dang, that sounds really cool actually. And no, close but no cigar.*
*Eh you know what? I’ve got a few minutes. Screw it.* *Hi guys! How’s it going?*
A pale man dressed in fine black clothing walks into the tavern. His age is decidedly unclear, he looks to be in his early thirties, but his eyes betray a cold intelligence indicative of a being centuries older. He wears an ornate pair of black leather riding gloves with gold embroidery. His curly mop of black hair gently overshadows his icy blue eyes. A renaissance style mustache and goatee sprouts from his chin and upper lip. He takes a table for himself and signals for a waiter.
*Eh you know what? I’ve got a few minutes. Screw it.* *Hi guys! How’s it going?*
A pale man dressed in fine black clothing walks into the tavern. His age is decidedly unclear, he looks to be in his early thirties, but his eyes betray a cold intelligence indicative of a being centuries older. He wears an ornate pair of black leather riding gloves with gold embroidery. His curly mop of black hair gently overshadows his icy blue eyes. A renaissance style mustache and goatee sprouts from his chin and upper lip. He takes a table for himself and signals for a waiter.
*I think i know who this is but im not completely sure*
Thatcher looks up and narrows his cold grey eyes. The Scottish general stands up and jumps behind the bar, setting the brandy bottle back before grabbing a unopened one and walking back to his desk.
*Really? Who do you think?* *Also, Scottish general? This man gets more interesting by the minute*
”Help yourself privileges, eh?” The man calls out, as he walks up to the bar. “I’m liking this place more by the minute.”
"Aye" he says and uncorks it, pouring himself a glass. He smiles "Care for one?"
*This is Thatcher Gale. Owner of the Gale Alliance, a secret organization that kills off planar evils.* *aaaaand is this Krathian??*
“Indeed, it’s been quite a ride to get here.”
*Dang, that sounds really cool actually. And no, close but no cigar.*
*Eh you know what? I’ve got a few minutes. Screw it.* *Hi guys! How’s it going?*
A pale man dressed in fine black clothing walks into the tavern. His age is decidedly unclear, he looks to be in his early thirties, but his eyes betray a cold intelligence indicative of a being centuries older. He wears an ornate pair of black leather riding gloves with gold embroidery. His curly mop of black hair gently overshadows his icy blue eyes. A renaissance style mustache and goatee sprouts from his chin and upper lip. He takes a table for himself and signals for a waiter.
*Hi chest!*
*Hi yourself, how goes it Dragon?*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
This is ItsNotAChest’s alternate, so no some random psychopath hasn’t stolen their storylines/posts. Or maybe I did. Who knows…
I am what happens when you write character concepts on a spice high
*Eh you know what? I’ve got a few minutes. Screw it.* *Hi guys! How’s it going?*
A pale man dressed in fine black clothing walks into the tavern. His age is decidedly unclear, he looks to be in his early thirties, but his eyes betray a cold intelligence indicative of a being centuries older. He wears an ornate pair of black leather riding gloves with gold embroidery. His curly mop of black hair gently overshadows his icy blue eyes. A renaissance style mustache and goatee sprouts from his chin and upper lip. He takes a table for himself and signals for a waiter.
*I think i know who this is but im not completely sure*
Thatcher looks up and narrows his cold grey eyes. The Scottish general stands up and jumps behind the bar, setting the brandy bottle back before grabbing a unopened one and walking back to his desk.
*Really? Who do you think?* *Also, Scottish general? This man gets more interesting by the minute*
”Help yourself privileges, eh?” The man calls out, as he walks up to the bar. “I’m liking this place more by the minute.”
"Aye" he says and uncorks it, pouring himself a glass. He smiles "Care for one?"
*This is Thatcher Gale. Owner of the Gale Alliance, a secret organization that kills off planar evils.* *aaaaand is this Krathian??*
“Indeed, it’s been quite a ride to get here.”
*Dang, that sounds really cool actually. And no, close but no cigar.*
*Eh you know what? I’ve got a few minutes. Screw it.* *Hi guys! How’s it going?*
A pale man dressed in fine black clothing walks into the tavern. His age is decidedly unclear, he looks to be in his early thirties, but his eyes betray a cold intelligence indicative of a being centuries older. He wears an ornate pair of black leather riding gloves with gold embroidery. His curly mop of black hair gently overshadows his icy blue eyes. A renaissance style mustache and goatee sprouts from his chin and upper lip. He takes a table for himself and signals for a waiter.
*I think i know who this is but im not completely sure*
Thatcher looks up and narrows his cold grey eyes. The Scottish general stands up and jumps behind the bar, setting the brandy bottle back before grabbing a unopened one and walking back to his desk.
*Really? Who do you think?* *Also, Scottish general? This man gets more interesting by the minute*
”Help yourself privileges, eh?” The man calls out, as he walks up to the bar. “I’m liking this place more by the minute.”
"Aye" he says and uncorks it, pouring himself a glass. He smiles "Care for one?"
*This is Thatcher Gale. Owner of the Gale Alliance, a secret organization that kills off planar evils.* *aaaaand is this Krathian??*
“Indeed, it’s been quite a ride to get here.”
*Dang, that sounds really cool actually. And no, close but no cigar.*
He nods and pours his a glass and hands it over "My name is Thatcher. Do i get to hear your's?"
“Hmmm” he says, taking a sip and gently tilting the glass in a circle, considering it. “Dao, he says, Severyn Dao.”
*He’s another member of the cult of Orvar.* *And yeah mate, you should be proud.*
*XD*
"well then, Pleasure to meet you" He says, his Scottish accent thick in his words. He tilts back his drink, wasting no time on drinking it down.
“Likewise.” He takes another sip “Pardon me if this is too forward, friend, but you seem stressed. What troubles you?”
"Stressed?" he said and then his actions dawn on him slowly "ah.. I drink often and some might say to much... If i am stressed, its because of the amount of cases i have right now." he said and chuckled a bit.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
*Eh you know what? I’ve got a few minutes. Screw it.* *Hi guys! How’s it going?*
A pale man dressed in fine black clothing walks into the tavern. His age is decidedly unclear, he looks to be in his early thirties, but his eyes betray a cold intelligence indicative of a being centuries older. He wears an ornate pair of black leather riding gloves with gold embroidery. His curly mop of black hair gently overshadows his icy blue eyes. A renaissance style mustache and goatee sprouts from his chin and upper lip. He takes a table for himself and signals for a waiter.
*I think i know who this is but im not completely sure*
Thatcher looks up and narrows his cold grey eyes. The Scottish general stands up and jumps behind the bar, setting the brandy bottle back before grabbing a unopened one and walking back to his desk.
*Really? Who do you think?* *Also, Scottish general? This man gets more interesting by the minute*
”Help yourself privileges, eh?” The man calls out, as he walks up to the bar. “I’m liking this place more by the minute.”
"Aye" he says and uncorks it, pouring himself a glass. He smiles "Care for one?"
*This is Thatcher Gale. Owner of the Gale Alliance, a secret organization that kills off planar evils.* *aaaaand is this Krathian??*
“Indeed, it’s been quite a ride to get here.”
*Dang, that sounds really cool actually. And no, close but no cigar.*
He nods and pours his a glass and hands it over "My name is Thatcher. Do i get to hear your's?"
“Hmmm” he says, taking a sip and gently tilting the glass in a circle, considering it. “Dao, he says, Severyn Dao.”
*He’s another member of the cult of Orvar.* *And yeah mate, you should be proud.*
*XD*
"well then, Pleasure to meet you" He says, his Scottish accent thick in his words. He tilts back his drink, wasting no time on drinking it down.
“Likewise.” He takes another sip “Pardon me if this is too forward, friend, but you seem stressed. What troubles you?”
"Stressed?" he said and then his actions dawn on him slowly "ah.. I drink often and some might say to much... If i am stressed, its because of the amount of cases i have right now." he said and chuckled a bit.
“Cases, hm? Am I to assume I find myself in the presence of an investigator?”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
This is ItsNotAChest’s alternate, so no some random psychopath hasn’t stolen their storylines/posts. Or maybe I did. Who knows…
I am what happens when you write character concepts on a spice high
*Eh you know what? I’ve got a few minutes. Screw it.* *Hi guys! How’s it going?*
A pale man dressed in fine black clothing walks into the tavern. His age is decidedly unclear, he looks to be in his early thirties, but his eyes betray a cold intelligence indicative of a being centuries older. He wears an ornate pair of black leather riding gloves with gold embroidery. His curly mop of black hair gently overshadows his icy blue eyes. A renaissance style mustache and goatee sprouts from his chin and upper lip. He takes a table for himself and signals for a waiter.
*I think i know who this is but im not completely sure*
Thatcher looks up and narrows his cold grey eyes. The Scottish general stands up and jumps behind the bar, setting the brandy bottle back before grabbing a unopened one and walking back to his desk.
*Really? Who do you think?* *Also, Scottish general? This man gets more interesting by the minute*
”Help yourself privileges, eh?” The man calls out, as he walks up to the bar. “I’m liking this place more by the minute.”
"Aye" he says and uncorks it, pouring himself a glass. He smiles "Care for one?"
*This is Thatcher Gale. Owner of the Gale Alliance, a secret organization that kills off planar evils.* *aaaaand is this Krathian??*
“Indeed, it’s been quite a ride to get here.”
*Dang, that sounds really cool actually. And no, close but no cigar.*
He nods and pours his a glass and hands it over "My name is Thatcher. Do i get to hear your's?"
“Hmmm” he says, taking a sip and gently tilting the glass in a circle, considering it. “Dao, he says, Severyn Dao.”
*He’s another member of the cult of Orvar.* *And yeah mate, you should be proud.*
*XD*
"well then, Pleasure to meet you" He says, his Scottish accent thick in his words. He tilts back his drink, wasting no time on drinking it down.
“Likewise.” He takes another sip “Pardon me if this is too forward, friend, but you seem stressed. What troubles you?”
"Stressed?" he said and then his actions dawn on him slowly "ah.. I drink often and some might say to much... If i am stressed, its because of the amount of cases i have right now." he said and chuckled a bit.
“Cases, hm? Am I to assume I find myself in the presence of an investigator?”
".... You could say something like that" he said
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
*Eh you know what? I’ve got a few minutes. Screw it.* *Hi guys! How’s it going?*
A pale man dressed in fine black clothing walks into the tavern. His age is decidedly unclear, he looks to be in his early thirties, but his eyes betray a cold intelligence indicative of a being centuries older. He wears an ornate pair of black leather riding gloves with gold embroidery. His curly mop of black hair gently overshadows his icy blue eyes. A renaissance style mustache and goatee sprouts from his chin and upper lip. He takes a table for himself and signals for a waiter.
*I think i know who this is but im not completely sure*
Thatcher looks up and narrows his cold grey eyes. The Scottish general stands up and jumps behind the bar, setting the brandy bottle back before grabbing a unopened one and walking back to his desk.
*Really? Who do you think?* *Also, Scottish general? This man gets more interesting by the minute*
”Help yourself privileges, eh?” The man calls out, as he walks up to the bar. “I’m liking this place more by the minute.”
"Aye" he says and uncorks it, pouring himself a glass. He smiles "Care for one?"
*This is Thatcher Gale. Owner of the Gale Alliance, a secret organization that kills off planar evils.* *aaaaand is this Krathian??*
“Indeed, it’s been quite a ride to get here.”
*Dang, that sounds really cool actually. And no, close but no cigar.*
He nods and pours his a glass and hands it over "My name is Thatcher. Do i get to hear your's?"
“Hmmm” he says, taking a sip and gently tilting the glass in a circle, considering it. “Dao, he says, Severyn Dao.”
*He’s another member of the cult of Orvar.* *And yeah mate, you should be proud.*
*XD*
"well then, Pleasure to meet you" He says, his Scottish accent thick in his words. He tilts back his drink, wasting no time on drinking it down.
“Likewise.” He takes another sip “Pardon me if this is too forward, friend, but you seem stressed. What troubles you?”
"Stressed?" he said and then his actions dawn on him slowly "ah.. I drink often and some might say to much... If i am stressed, its because of the amount of cases i have right now." he said and chuckled a bit.
“Cases, hm? Am I to assume I find myself in the presence of an investigator?”
".... You could say something like that" he said
“How exciting! Is that why you’re here? Pursuing some criminal across the planes?” He blinks twice in rapid succession, for a second it seems like his pupils change shape… but it could just as easily have been Thatcher’s imagination.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
This is ItsNotAChest’s alternate, so no some random psychopath hasn’t stolen their storylines/posts. Or maybe I did. Who knows…
I am what happens when you write character concepts on a spice high
*Eh you know what? I’ve got a few minutes. Screw it.* *Hi guys! How’s it going?*
A pale man dressed in fine black clothing walks into the tavern. His age is decidedly unclear, he looks to be in his early thirties, but his eyes betray a cold intelligence indicative of a being centuries older. He wears an ornate pair of black leather riding gloves with gold embroidery. His curly mop of black hair gently overshadows his icy blue eyes. A renaissance style mustache and goatee sprouts from his chin and upper lip. He takes a table for himself and signals for a waiter.
*Hi chest!*
*Hi yourself, how goes it Dragon?*
*Pretty good, aside from me being a socially awkward failure*
*Eh you know what? I’ve got a few minutes. Screw it.* *Hi guys! How’s it going?*
A pale man dressed in fine black clothing walks into the tavern. His age is decidedly unclear, he looks to be in his early thirties, but his eyes betray a cold intelligence indicative of a being centuries older. He wears an ornate pair of black leather riding gloves with gold embroidery. His curly mop of black hair gently overshadows his icy blue eyes. A renaissance style mustache and goatee sprouts from his chin and upper lip. He takes a table for himself and signals for a waiter.
*Hi chest!*
*Hi yourself, how goes it Dragon?*
*Pretty good, aside from me being a socially awkward failure*
*Eh don’t worry about it mate* (insert Cheshire Cat grin) *We’re all socially awkward failures here. Seriously though, did something happen or just general bad feeling?*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
This is ItsNotAChest’s alternate, so no some random psychopath hasn’t stolen their storylines/posts. Or maybe I did. Who knows…
I am what happens when you write character concepts on a spice high
*Eh you know what? I’ve got a few minutes. Screw it.* *Hi guys! How’s it going?*
A pale man dressed in fine black clothing walks into the tavern. His age is decidedly unclear, he looks to be in his early thirties, but his eyes betray a cold intelligence indicative of a being centuries older. He wears an ornate pair of black leather riding gloves with gold embroidery. His curly mop of black hair gently overshadows his icy blue eyes. A renaissance style mustache and goatee sprouts from his chin and upper lip. He takes a table for himself and signals for a waiter.
*Hi chest!*
*Hi yourself, how goes it Dragon?*
*Pretty good, aside from me being a socially awkward failure*
*Eh don’t worry about it mate* (insert Cheshire Cat grin) *We’re all socially awkward failures here. Seriously though, did something happen or just general bad feeling?*
*I lost the majority of my friends in about a day due to an argument, I'm fine though*
*Eh you know what? I’ve got a few minutes. Screw it.* *Hi guys! How’s it going?*
A pale man dressed in fine black clothing walks into the tavern. His age is decidedly unclear, he looks to be in his early thirties, but his eyes betray a cold intelligence indicative of a being centuries older. He wears an ornate pair of black leather riding gloves with gold embroidery. His curly mop of black hair gently overshadows his icy blue eyes. A renaissance style mustache and goatee sprouts from his chin and upper lip. He takes a table for himself and signals for a waiter.
*I think i know who this is but im not completely sure*
Thatcher looks up and narrows his cold grey eyes. The Scottish general stands up and jumps behind the bar, setting the brandy bottle back before grabbing a unopened one and walking back to his desk.
*Really? Who do you think?* *Also, Scottish general? This man gets more interesting by the minute*
”Help yourself privileges, eh?” The man calls out, as he walks up to the bar. “I’m liking this place more by the minute.”
"Aye" he says and uncorks it, pouring himself a glass. He smiles "Care for one?"
*This is Thatcher Gale. Owner of the Gale Alliance, a secret organization that kills off planar evils.* *aaaaand is this Krathian??*
“Indeed, it’s been quite a ride to get here.”
*Dang, that sounds really cool actually. And no, close but no cigar.*
He nods and pours his a glass and hands it over "My name is Thatcher. Do i get to hear your's?"
“Hmmm” he says, taking a sip and gently tilting the glass in a circle, considering it. “Dao, he says, Severyn Dao.”
*He’s another member of the cult of Orvar.* *And yeah mate, you should be proud.*
*XD*
"well then, Pleasure to meet you" He says, his Scottish accent thick in his words. He tilts back his drink, wasting no time on drinking it down.
“Likewise.” He takes another sip “Pardon me if this is too forward, friend, but you seem stressed. What troubles you?”
"Stressed?" he said and then his actions dawn on him slowly "ah.. I drink often and some might say to much... If i am stressed, its because of the amount of cases i have right now." he said and chuckled a bit.
“Cases, hm? Am I to assume I find myself in the presence of an investigator?”
".... You could say something like that" he said
“How exciting! Is that why you’re here? Pursuing some criminal across the planes?” He blinks twice in rapid succession, for a second it seems like his pupils change shape… but it could just as easily have been Thatcher’s imagination.
Thatcher raises an eyebrow, his own eyes change from smoky grey to emerald green. "I'm sorry to say that information pertaining to what i am doing via criminal cases is confidential."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
*Eh you know what? I’ve got a few minutes. Screw it.* *Hi guys! How’s it going?*
A pale man dressed in fine black clothing walks into the tavern. His age is decidedly unclear, he looks to be in his early thirties, but his eyes betray a cold intelligence indicative of a being centuries older. He wears an ornate pair of black leather riding gloves with gold embroidery. His curly mop of black hair gently overshadows his icy blue eyes. A renaissance style mustache and goatee sprouts from his chin and upper lip. He takes a table for himself and signals for a waiter.
*Hi chest!*
*Hi yourself, how goes it Dragon?*
*Pretty good, aside from me being a socially awkward failure*
*Eh don’t worry about it mate* (insert Cheshire Cat grin) *We’re all socially awkward failures here. Seriously though, did something happen or just general bad feeling?*
*I lost the majority of my friends in about a day due to an argument, I'm fine though*
*You need hugs*
*-huuuuugs-*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
*Really? Who do you think?*
*Also, Scottish general? This man gets more interesting by the minute*
”Help yourself privileges, eh?” The man calls out, as he walks up to the bar. “I’m liking this place more by the minute.”
This is ItsNotAChest’s alternate, so no some random psychopath hasn’t stolen their storylines/posts. Or maybe I did. Who knows…
I am what happens when you write character concepts on a spice high
#ForeverAlone
#ForeverDM
"Aye" he says and uncorks it, pouring himself a glass. He smiles "Care for one?"
*This is Thatcher Gale. Owner of the Gale Alliance, a secret organization that kills off planar evils.* *aaaaand is this Krathian??*
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
“Indeed, it’s been quite a ride to get here.”
*Dang, that sounds really cool actually. And no, close but no cigar.*
This is ItsNotAChest’s alternate, so no some random psychopath hasn’t stolen their storylines/posts. Or maybe I did. Who knows…
I am what happens when you write character concepts on a spice high
#ForeverAlone
#ForeverDM
*Here's his page (Im very proud of him): https://ddb.ac/characters/90217283/RFsyQ6 *
*D a r n*
He nods and pours his a glass and hands it over "My name is Thatcher. Do i get to hear your's?"
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
“Hmmm” he says, taking a sip and gently tilting the glass in a circle, considering it. “Dao, he says, Severyn Dao.”
*He’s another member of the cult of Orvar.*
*And yeah mate, you should be proud.*
This is ItsNotAChest’s alternate, so no some random psychopath hasn’t stolen their storylines/posts. Or maybe I did. Who knows…
I am what happens when you write character concepts on a spice high
#ForeverAlone
#ForeverDM
*Hi chest!*
the biggest screwup since the screw was invented
*XD*
"well then, Pleasure to meet you" He says, his Scottish accent thick in his words. He tilts back his drink, wasting no time on drinking it down.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
*Hi yourself, how goes it Dragon?*
This is ItsNotAChest’s alternate, so no some random psychopath hasn’t stolen their storylines/posts. Or maybe I did. Who knows…
I am what happens when you write character concepts on a spice high
#ForeverAlone
#ForeverDM
“Likewise.” He takes another sip “Pardon me if this is too forward, friend, but you seem stressed. What troubles you?”
This is ItsNotAChest’s alternate, so no some random psychopath hasn’t stolen their storylines/posts. Or maybe I did. Who knows…
I am what happens when you write character concepts on a spice high
#ForeverAlone
#ForeverDM
"Stressed?" he said and then his actions dawn on him slowly "ah.. I drink often and some might say to much... If i am stressed, its because of the amount of cases i have right now." he said and chuckled a bit.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
“Cases, hm? Am I to assume I find myself in the presence of an investigator?”
This is ItsNotAChest’s alternate, so no some random psychopath hasn’t stolen their storylines/posts. Or maybe I did. Who knows…
I am what happens when you write character concepts on a spice high
#ForeverAlone
#ForeverDM
".... You could say something like that" he said
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
*Today isn’t slow anymore*
MY INFO
“How exciting! Is that why you’re here? Pursuing some criminal across the planes?” He blinks twice in rapid succession, for a second it seems like his pupils change shape… but it could just as easily have been Thatcher’s imagination.
This is ItsNotAChest’s alternate, so no some random psychopath hasn’t stolen their storylines/posts. Or maybe I did. Who knows…
I am what happens when you write character concepts on a spice high
#ForeverAlone
#ForeverDM
*Pretty good, aside from me being a socially awkward failure*
the biggest screwup since the screw was invented
*Eh don’t worry about it mate* (insert Cheshire Cat grin) *We’re all socially awkward failures here. Seriously though, did something happen or just general bad feeling?*
This is ItsNotAChest’s alternate, so no some random psychopath hasn’t stolen their storylines/posts. Or maybe I did. Who knows…
I am what happens when you write character concepts on a spice high
#ForeverAlone
#ForeverDM
*I lost the majority of my friends in about a day due to an argument, I'm fine though*
the biggest screwup since the screw was invented
*No [GP]*
*Also howdy Draken, I don’t think I’ve seen you on here before.*
This is ItsNotAChest’s alternate, so no some random psychopath hasn’t stolen their storylines/posts. Or maybe I did. Who knows…
I am what happens when you write character concepts on a spice high
#ForeverAlone
#ForeverDM
Thatcher raises an eyebrow, his own eyes change from smoky grey to emerald green. "I'm sorry to say that information pertaining to what i am doing via criminal cases is confidential."
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
*You need hugs*
*-huuuuugs-*
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]