"It's nice to meet you as well." She grins, revealing a sharp set of teeth. "What were you doing?"
"just a normal training regime." he says with a shrug, rubbing his flame tattooed covered arm nervously
"Training for what?" She glances over at the punching bag. Her other eyes do not, remaining fixed on Theren.
"Just to stay in shape." he says with a shrug. "I don't like getting out of shape."
"Ah, got it. Is there any particular reason you came here?"
"just a place to get away from my messed up past." he says with another shrug. "What about you?"
She nods thoughtfully. "I was sent here by my boss. She's really curious about this place, so she kinda just... tossed me over into this realm. I heard there's some really powerful beings here, so maybe that has something to do with it."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
"It's nice to meet you as well." She grins, revealing a sharp set of teeth. "What were you doing?"
"just a normal training regime." he says with a shrug, rubbing his flame tattooed covered arm nervously
"Training for what?" She glances over at the punching bag. Her other eyes do not, remaining fixed on Theren.
"Just to stay in shape." he says with a shrug. "I don't like getting out of shape."
"Ah, got it. Is there any particular reason you came here?"
"just a place to get away from my messed up past." he says with another shrug. "What about you?"
She nods thoughtfully. "I was sent here by my boss. She's really curious about this place, so she kinda just... tossed me over into this realm. I heard there's some really powerful beings here, so maybe that has something to do with it."
"Probably. I know a few powerful people. Not like godly or whatever, but they do have some power."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
The smell of blood floods the air around the tavern, drowning out anything else to the point of non existence, like a sea of blood had covered everything around it. A figure comes from what seems to be living darkness, rippling like the waves of a turbulent sea on calm endless midnight. The figure seems to be cloaked in these very shadows, moving past people with an unmatched elegance. They take a seat in the corner of the tavern, their own shadows meshing with those of the dark corner. The smell of blood on the figure is most pungent than anywhere else, and yet they smell as pleasant as a fall evening or a spring breeze or the strawberries of a sleepy summer afternoon. All anyone can tell from seeing them slightly is they are unique, and amazing, yet fleeting like the sunrise. He speaks with a voice of silk, ordering an ice water.
*Does anyone want to deal with a socially awkward vampire?*
The smell of blood floods the air around the tavern, drowning out anything else to the point of non existence, like a sea of blood had covered everything around it. A figure comes from what seems to be living darkness, rippling like the waves of a turbulent sea on calm endless midnight. The figure seems to be cloaked in these very shadows, moving past people with an unmatched elegance. They take a seat in the corner of the tavern, their own shadows meshing with those of the dark corner. The smell of blood on the figure is most pungent than anywhere else, and yet they smell as pleasant as a fall evening or a spring breeze or the strawberries of a sleepy summer afternoon. All anyone can tell from seeing them slightly is they are unique, and amazing, yet fleeting like the sunrise. He speaks with a voice of silk, ordering an ice water.
*Does anyone want to deal with a socially awkward vampire?*
*As soon as my character is no longer standing trial with its clone.*
The smell of blood floods the air around the tavern, drowning out anything else to the point of non existence, like a sea of blood had covered everything around it. A figure comes from what seems to be living darkness, rippling like the waves of a turbulent sea on calm endless midnight. The figure seems to be cloaked in these very shadows, moving past people with an unmatched elegance. They take a seat in the corner of the tavern, their own shadows meshing with those of the dark corner. The smell of blood on the figure is most pungent than anywhere else, and yet they smell as pleasant as a fall evening or a spring breeze or the strawberries of a sleepy summer afternoon. All anyone can tell from seeing them slightly is they are unique, and amazing, yet fleeting like the sunrise. He speaks with a voice of silk, ordering an ice water.
*Does anyone want to deal with a socially awkward vampire?*
*As soon as my character is no longer standing trial with its clone.*
"It's nice to meet you as well." She grins, revealing a sharp set of teeth. "What were you doing?"
"just a normal training regime." he says with a shrug, rubbing his flame tattooed covered arm nervously
"Training for what?" She glances over at the punching bag. Her other eyes do not, remaining fixed on Theren.
"Just to stay in shape." he says with a shrug. "I don't like getting out of shape."
"Ah, got it. Is there any particular reason you came here?"
"just a place to get away from my messed up past." he says with another shrug. "What about you?"
She nods thoughtfully. "I was sent here by my boss. She's really curious about this place, so she kinda just... tossed me over into this realm. I heard there's some really powerful beings here, so maybe that has something to do with it."
"Probably. I know a few powerful people. Not like godly or whatever, but they do have some power."
"Interesting... who are they?" Now, all of their additional eyes have opened, watching with a sort of grim curiosity that Omori doesn't seem aware of.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
The Hunter looks at his shotgun, considering something. He then sighs. "This monster was attacking civilians. I was trying to defend the populace from it!"
The False is clearly extremely stressed, unable to really move in any significant capacity due to the small barrier. "That's... not true..."
The Hunter laughs. "Is that your only defense? You were so obviously the aggressor! Look at how much damage you dealt to the town! Mage, kill it!"
The False looks at the faint cracks in the road. It closes its hollow eyes and takes a deep breath. "We are both spawn of the same Copy Spore."
"Do I look like a fungus to you? Perhaps give a lie you at least have a little evidence for!"
"I have reached adolescence and am due to be culled by our originator's Sporespawn. I have begun to develop physical flaws as I am reaching proper age to release my own spores."
"Well, that much is obvious! I don't want you leading Sporespawn to this random township! Even worse, you could reduce this town to an army of thralls should you mature fully and build a hive here!"
The False bows its head. "I... didn't consider that. I am sorry."
The Hunter laughs once more. "Sorry? It's common knowledge that Copy Spores and their Sporespawn have no remorse, empathy, or even emotions!"
The Baker listens quietly, his hands folded behind his back as he watches them discuss it in a civilized manner.
The False looks at the baker, guilty, but not pleading. "I have no intention of starting a hive here. As I have been severed from my own hive, I have been marked for death by nature. I need a place suitably supernatural in order to avoid harming others."
"And yet you killed all those civilians?"
"I see no bodies."
"That's because you ate them, you greedy pig!"
"Do I look large enough to eat more than one average-sized humanoid?"
"You're an eldritch fungus from the Nightmare! You could be bigger on the inside."
"...True. Even I don't know what abilities I possess. It seems I am fighting a losing battle. Mage, sir, if you kill me, I beg of you, kill both of us."
"But that doesn't make any sense! At least one of us has to be right."
"No, at least one of us has to be wrong. There is a difference."
The Hunter laughs confidently. "You can't kill me! I was just doing my job! I'm a monster hunter! I was protecting the innocent! I've done nothing wrong!"
"Possibly."
"The hell is that supposed to mean?"
"All Sporespawn function as scouts. If what I say has even a grain of truth, then that means that you could be scouting this area for your Hive."
He scoffs. "You're not actually believing this thing, right?"
"Think about it. We both have the appearance of a historical figure, and he disappeared ages ago while in the Vital Nightmare. If he really was strong enough to survive the Nighmare and actively hunt the monsters there, then would he be having this much trouble with a monster of my category?"
"I have the stylings of the man, I'm not him!"
"You have his face, hair, and build. I used to, but I lost those features during my evolution."
"This is madness! Copy Spores are notorious for their deceptive abilities! This entity must be lying!"
"Yes, indeed, they are known for their deception. Which is why it would be safer to kill us both."
The Hunter stares. "No. No, that doesn't make sense."
"Why not? I'm clearly a massive threat, going by what you have said. And going by what I said, you would also be a massive threat." The False is shaking slightly, taking deep breaths. "I'd rather die than be the cause of such a tragedy as a hostile Copy Spore infestation. I'm scared. I always am. but this isn't about me."
"You are only scared because you are afraid of being slain by a true hero!" The Hunter turns to the baker. "Mage, slay him and become that hero!"
The False continues talking to the Hunter, not the baker. "...Any reasonable person would be scared out of their mind right now. We are trapped, being held at gunpoint, and on trail with no lawyer. Any false moves will result in the death of one or both of us. But I don't have anyone waiting for me back home. I can use fear as a defense, because I am strong enough to face it when I need to. Your kind will never understand fear. You see it as a defect, a failure of the creation process. That's why you're immune to it. But I was born with the defect, and it has allowed me to be more aware of myself and others."
"What is any of that supposed to mean?"
"It means you've disproven your humanity with your supposed 'perfection.' Now... I'm still scared... but sir mage, please cast judgement. I have no more good arguments."
"Hah! I have plenty left!"
The Baker smiles warmly "I will not kill either of you. But you" he points to the Hunter "seem like you want to kill him." he gestures to the False "and I can't have that so this is what we are going to do." He removes the barrier and steps between the two, gesturing them forward. He takes both their hands and clasps them both in each other. With a wave of his own, settling it on top of the others. A symbol forms on top of his own hand, a glyph of white light forming over them both.
Whenever they are within 60 feet of each other, a wall of force activates around them on all sides to prevent them from attacking each other. This affects their weapons and spells as well so no weapons can be thrown or spells can be cast only if tey are within 60 feet of each other.
*I just realized that Teddy is horrible with weapons and health but is OP in protective and healing stuff.*
The smell of blood floods the air around the tavern, drowning out anything else to the point of non existence, like a sea of blood had covered everything around it. A figure comes from what seems to be living darkness, rippling like the waves of a turbulent sea on calm endless midnight. The figure seems to be cloaked in these very shadows, moving past people with an unmatched elegance. They take a seat in the corner of the tavern, their own shadows meshing with those of the dark corner. The smell of blood on the figure is most pungent than anywhere else, and yet they smell as pleasant as a fall evening or a spring breeze or the strawberries of a sleepy summer afternoon. All anyone can tell from seeing them slightly is they are unique, and amazing, yet fleeting like the sunrise. He speaks with a voice of silk, ordering an ice water.
*Does anyone want to deal with a socially awkward vampire?*
*shore.*
The Baker watches them, his face neutral. He is wearing a red pinstripe suit with a red tie, a black apron over top.
"It's nice to meet you as well." She grins, revealing a sharp set of teeth. "What were you doing?"
"just a normal training regime." he says with a shrug, rubbing his flame tattooed covered arm nervously
"Training for what?" She glances over at the punching bag. Her other eyes do not, remaining fixed on Theren.
"Just to stay in shape." he says with a shrug. "I don't like getting out of shape."
"Ah, got it. Is there any particular reason you came here?"
"just a place to get away from my messed up past." he says with another shrug. "What about you?"
She nods thoughtfully. "I was sent here by my boss. She's really curious about this place, so she kinda just... tossed me over into this realm. I heard there's some really powerful beings here, so maybe that has something to do with it."
"Probably. I know a few powerful people. Not like godly or whatever, but they do have some power."
"Interesting... who are they?" Now, all of their additional eyes have opened, watching with a sort of grim curiosity that Omori doesn't seem aware of.
"A guy named Leo, Beastknight, Thirteen, my wife Lore, and a few others."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
The smell of blood floods the air around the tavern, drowning out anything else to the point of non existence, like a sea of blood had covered everything around it. A figure comes from what seems to be living darkness, rippling like the waves of a turbulent sea on calm endless midnight. The figure seems to be cloaked in these very shadows, moving past people with an unmatched elegance. They take a seat in the corner of the tavern, their own shadows meshing with those of the dark corner. The smell of blood on the figure is most pungent than anywhere else, and yet they smell as pleasant as a fall evening or a spring breeze or the strawberries of a sleepy summer afternoon. All anyone can tell from seeing them slightly is they are unique, and amazing, yet fleeting like the sunrise. He speaks with a voice of silk, ordering an ice water.
*Does anyone want to deal with a socially awkward vampire?*
*shore.*
The Baker watches them, his face neutral. He is wearing a red pinstripe suit with a red tie, a black apron over top.
At the stares the shadowy figure seems to shake. He reaches for his glass of water, his skin paler than anything other than bone itself, even then, his skin may contest that.
The smell of blood floods the air around the tavern, drowning out anything else to the point of non existence, like a sea of blood had covered everything around it. A figure comes from what seems to be living darkness, rippling like the waves of a turbulent sea on calm endless midnight. The figure seems to be cloaked in these very shadows, moving past people with an unmatched elegance. They take a seat in the corner of the tavern, their own shadows meshing with those of the dark corner. The smell of blood on the figure is most pungent than anywhere else, and yet they smell as pleasant as a fall evening or a spring breeze or the strawberries of a sleepy summer afternoon. All anyone can tell from seeing them slightly is they are unique, and amazing, yet fleeting like the sunrise. He speaks with a voice of silk, ordering an ice water.
*Does anyone want to deal with a socially awkward vampire?*
*shore.*
The Baker watches them, his face neutral. He is wearing a red pinstripe suit with a red tie, a black apron over top.
At the stares the shadowy figure seems to shake. He reaches for his glass of water, his skin paler than anything other than bone itself, even then, his skin may contest that.
The Baker walks over, setting down a pig blood croissant. The filling on the inside of the croissant is a cherry jam mixed with the proteins from pigs blood.
The Baker smiles warmly "I will not kill either of you. But you" he points to the Hunter "seem like you want to kill him." he gestures to the False "and I can't have that so this is what we are going to do." He removes the barrier and steps between the two, gesturing them forward. He takes both their hands and clasps them both in each other. With a wave of his own, settling it on top of the others. A symbol forms on top of his own hand, a glyph of white light forming over them both.
Whenever they are within 60 feet of each other, a wall of force activates around them on all sides to prevent them from attacking each other. This affects their weapons and spells as well so no weapons can be thrown or spells can be cast only if they are within 60 feet of each other.
*I just realized that Teddy is horrible with weapons and health but is OP in protective and healing stuff.*
The Hunter smiles and immediately fires at the False, which flinches, but of course takes no damage. The Hunter frowns befuddled. "He's clearly a monster. Why would you protect him?"
The False bows to Teddy, clearly very grateful.
*Minor note: the False has disadvantage on all ranged attacks due to his shaky hands. So while the Hunter could bypass this with a Sniper Rifle for example, the False is too fearful to fight back. The False has quite a few fun little disadvantages.*
The smell of blood floods the air around the tavern, drowning out anything else to the point of non existence, like a sea of blood had covered everything around it. A figure comes from what seems to be living darkness, rippling like the waves of a turbulent sea on calm endless midnight. The figure seems to be cloaked in these very shadows, moving past people with an unmatched elegance. They take a seat in the corner of the tavern, their own shadows meshing with those of the dark corner. The smell of blood on the figure is most pungent than anywhere else, and yet they smell as pleasant as a fall evening or a spring breeze or the strawberries of a sleepy summer afternoon. All anyone can tell from seeing them slightly is they are unique, and amazing, yet fleeting like the sunrise. He speaks with a voice of silk, ordering an ice water.
*Does anyone want to deal with a socially awkward vampire?*
*shore.*
The Baker watches them, his face neutral. He is wearing a red pinstripe suit with a red tie, a black apron over top.
At the stares the shadowy figure seems to shake. He reaches for his glass of water, his skin paler than anything other than bone itself, even then, his skin may contest that.
The Baker walks over, setting down a pig blood croissant. The filling on the inside of the croissant is a cherry jam mixed with the proteins from pigs blood.
At their approach the figure once again shakes, although they look just as shadowy from up close. They take the croissant, draining the filling inside with their now apparent glistening fangs, their voice unstable but smooth “T-thanks.”
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*Sure. hers who I have. If you wanna use the baker I could bring in Leo :)*
Theren is outside training, dressed in a tank top and shorts. He repeatedly punches a punching bag, his knuckles bleeding profusely.
Phoenix is sitting in a church praying, a cross from a chain dangling from his clasped palms.
Leo is still tinkering with the Archimedes spheres.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
She nods thoughtfully. "I was sent here by my boss. She's really curious about this place, so she kinda just... tossed me over into this realm. I heard there's some really powerful beings here, so maybe that has something to do with it."
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
"Probably. I know a few powerful people. Not like godly or whatever, but they do have some power."
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
*Does anyone want to deal with a socially awkward vampire?*
*As soon as my character is no longer standing trial with its clone.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*Thats fun, cool. I can wait, take your time.*
"Interesting... who are they?" Now, all of their additional eyes have opened, watching with a sort of grim curiosity that Omori doesn't seem aware of.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
The Baker smiles warmly "I will not kill either of you. But you" he points to the Hunter "seem like you want to kill him." he gestures to the False "and I can't have that so this is what we are going to do." He removes the barrier and steps between the two, gesturing them forward. He takes both their hands and clasps them both in each other. With a wave of his own, settling it on top of the others. A symbol forms on top of his own hand, a glyph of white light forming over them both.
Whenever they are within 60 feet of each other, a wall of force activates around them on all sides to prevent them from attacking each other. This affects their weapons and spells as well so no weapons can be thrown or spells can be cast only if tey are within 60 feet of each other.
*I just realized that Teddy is horrible with weapons and health but is OP in protective and healing stuff.*
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
*shore.*
The Baker watches them, his face neutral. He is wearing a red pinstripe suit with a red tie, a black apron over top.
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
The Baker walks past Leo, carrying a tote of baked goods. He wears a red and black pinstripe suit with a red tie, a black apron over top.
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
"A guy named Leo, Beastknight, Thirteen, my wife Lore, and a few others."
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
Leo looks up, his stomach growling loudly. "Hey are you selling those?!"
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
He looks and nods "Yes, I am."
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
At the stares the shadowy figure seems to shake. He reaches for his glass of water, his skin paler than anything other than bone itself, even then, his skin may contest that.
Leo wipes his grease-stained hands on his pants before walking over. "Whatcha got?"
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
The Baker walks over, setting down a pig blood croissant. The filling on the inside of the croissant is a cherry jam mixed with the proteins from pigs blood.
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
*i am here*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"Everything." He says plainly and shrugs "I make a lot."
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
The Hunter smiles and immediately fires at the False, which flinches, but of course takes no damage. The Hunter frowns befuddled. "He's clearly a monster. Why would you protect him?"
The False bows to Teddy, clearly very grateful.
*Minor note: the False has disadvantage on all ranged attacks due to his shaky hands. So while the Hunter could bypass this with a Sniper Rifle for example, the False is too fearful to fight back. The False has quite a few fun little disadvantages.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
At their approach the figure once again shakes, although they look just as shadowy from up close. They take the croissant, draining the filling inside with their now apparent glistening fangs, their voice unstable but smooth “T-thanks.”