He seems like he's about to say something reactive, but then seems to deflate with a sigh. "Thanks."
“Oh, sorry if that came across as patronizing. I’m being completely honest.”
"It's all good, man. I like to paint, and I know I'm good at it... but I just don't feel it. Impostor Syndrome, you know? Hard to just... let go sometimes."
Mauric sighs. “I can relate to that a lot. But if you’re doing something you love, then that’s all that matters. Look at it this way: if it was another person trying to hold you back, you’d push back. So it’s no different than your own doubts.”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
So spend your hours on What you think I've done wrong I know I'm in your mind I've been here way too long I want to spend my life With those who've done me right Your heart is frozen over I'm a four-leaf clover
Thirteen is poring over a mix of apocalyptic writings, desperate scribbles, and horrifying drawings of nightmarish beings, looking agitated and confused.
A blue dragonborn clad in a mix of leather armor and brass mail carrying a heavy crossbow is making his way through the woods, on his guard. His orange eyes have a hit of inhumanity about them.
A tankard of ale is set down in front of him.
Jax stays focused on the catboy, eventually catching him.
He doesn’t process it, murmuring to himself. “But the constraints of paraphysics wouldn’t allow such a being to exist in three layers of reality, especially one so caustic to quantum functions already…”
The dragonborn sees them from a distance and lifts the crossbow, securing a pair of round goggles over his eyes and watching the scene, not sure if any action would yet be required.
"Have you considered it only partially exists in the third layer?"
"You've got quite a bounty on your head, Ziff. suits my wallet and my wall just fine." He says while slitting the Tabaxi's throat, laughing silently.
“What?” His head snaps up. “That would be utterly infeasible, assuming Aganazzar’s Law holds up in a vacuum, which it has no reason not to.”
He takes aim and shoots at Jax, trying to hit him in the arm or leg and not seriously wound him. Attack: 15 Damage: 9
"Agnazzar was a crackpot, Ireznus is where it's at. I'm telling you, when it's fully resting in the first and second, it can only partially exist in the third. Drink."
The arrow whizzes by Jax's leg, and he hisses, decapitating the tabaxi and stuffing the head into a burlap sack. "Who dares meddle with justice?" he hisses at the direction of the arrow
“Do you even know what I’m talking about?” He says exasperatedly.
Šeansal lowers his crossbow, not trying to expose himself. 20
she cackles, slapping the bar. "Nope! Just trying to get you to lighten up."
Jax catches a whiff of something, but still heads towards the arrows source.
He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose, looking exhausted. “…what time even is it?”
He begins carefully moving around the clearing, trying to move toward the beheaded tabaxi corpse without being spotted. Stealth: 21
"no clue, probably time for a night cap."
Šeansal gets away, but his scent lingers in Jax's nose. The hunt is on.
“I don’t drink. Never have, never will. My mind and actions are utterly unclouded.”
Carrying the carcass with ease, Šeansal begins heading to town to find a place to turn in his stolen mark.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"It's all good, man. I like to paint, and I know I'm good at it... but I just don't feel it. Impostor Syndrome, you know? Hard to just... let go sometimes."
Mauric sighs. “I can relate to that a lot. But if you’re doing something you love, then that’s all that matters. Look at it this way: if it was another person trying to hold you back, you’d push back. So it’s no different than your own doubts.”
He smirks, not maliciously, but more of a little smile of sudden awareness. "Yeah. I try to avoid violent metaphors, being a counselor and all, but that one is really good."
Thirteen is poring over a mix of apocalyptic writings, desperate scribbles, and horrifying drawings of nightmarish beings, looking agitated and confused.
A blue dragonborn clad in a mix of leather armor and brass mail carrying a heavy crossbow is making his way through the woods, on his guard. His orange eyes have a hit of inhumanity about them.
A tankard of ale is set down in front of him.
Jax stays focused on the catboy, eventually catching him.
He doesn’t process it, murmuring to himself. “But the constraints of paraphysics wouldn’t allow such a being to exist in three layers of reality, especially one so caustic to quantum functions already…”
The dragonborn sees them from a distance and lifts the crossbow, securing a pair of round goggles over his eyes and watching the scene, not sure if any action would yet be required.
"Have you considered it only partially exists in the third layer?"
"You've got quite a bounty on your head, Ziff. suits my wallet and my wall just fine." He says while slitting the Tabaxi's throat, laughing silently.
“What?” His head snaps up. “That would be utterly infeasible, assuming Aganazzar’s Law holds up in a vacuum, which it has no reason not to.”
He takes aim and shoots at Jax, trying to hit him in the arm or leg and not seriously wound him. Attack: 15 Damage: 9
"Agnazzar was a crackpot, Ireznus is where it's at. I'm telling you, when it's fully resting in the first and second, it can only partially exist in the third. Drink."
The arrow whizzes by Jax's leg, and he hisses, decapitating the tabaxi and stuffing the head into a burlap sack. "Who dares meddle with justice?" he hisses at the direction of the arrow
“Do you even know what I’m talking about?” He says exasperatedly.
Šeansal lowers his crossbow, not trying to expose himself. 20
she cackles, slapping the bar. "Nope! Just trying to get you to lighten up."
Jax catches a whiff of something, but still heads towards the arrows source.
He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose, looking exhausted. “…what time even is it?”
He begins carefully moving around the clearing, trying to move toward the beheaded tabaxi corpse without being spotted. Stealth: 21
"no clue, probably time for a night cap."
Šeansal gets away, but his scent lingers in Jax's nose. The hunt is on.
“I don’t drink. Never have, never will. My mind and actions are utterly unclouded.”
Carrying the carcass with ease, Šeansal begins heading to town to find a place to turn in his stolen mark.
"Okay, sure.. here's a glass of water."
Jax, head in tow, makes his way to the same place.
“I’m not thirsty. I just need to find out how they’re hiding from me. It’s like Where’s Wally with the entire multiverse.”
Šeansal takes a slightly different path, such that he won’t arrive until Jax has left.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"It's all good, man. I like to paint, and I know I'm good at it... but I just don't feel it. Impostor Syndrome, you know? Hard to just... let go sometimes."
Mauric sighs. “I can relate to that a lot. But if you’re doing something you love, then that’s all that matters. Look at it this way: if it was another person trying to hold you back, you’d push back. So it’s no different than your own doubts.”
He smirks, not maliciously, but more of a little smile of sudden awareness. "Yeah. I try to avoid violent metaphors, being a counselor and all, but that one is really good."
“How was it violent?”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
He smirks, not maliciously, but more of a little smile of sudden awareness. "Yeah. I try to avoid violent metaphors, being a counselor and all, but that one is really good."
“How was it violent?”
"Shoving. Honestly, it's not that bad, but I work with a lot of kids who don't understand what a metaphor is, so I try to think in their terms. I guess that's rich coming from me, given that I'm usually packing a cursed revolver that redefined the term 'Hell' as its own name. Nasty thing. Hate touching it." He takes a sip of his coffee, then seems to realize something. "I'm not supposed to talk about that." He says this with a more curious than worried tone.
*C H I L D*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*I am eepy but happy.*
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
Mauric sighs. “I can relate to that a lot. But if you’re doing something you love, then that’s all that matters. Look at it this way: if it was another person trying to hold you back, you’d push back. So it’s no different than your own doubts.”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*That's very good. Perhaps you can eep tonight and have good dreams.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
(how are you doing)
So spend your hours on
What you think I've done wrong
I know I'm in your mind
I've been here way too long
I want to spend my life
With those who've done me right
Your heart is frozen over
I'm a four-leaf clover
*H A H- no.*
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
*Do it or I'll... (insert very personal yet utterly bizarre threat)*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*THE RETURN OF THE KING*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*Joke on you, IM INTO THAT-*
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 is naur king*
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 don’t drink. Never have, never will. My mind and actions are utterly unclouded.”
Carrying the carcass with ease, Šeansal begins heading to town to find a place to turn in his stolen mark.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*then why are you of the Peerage of Ireland?*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
He smirks, not maliciously, but more of a little smile of sudden awareness. "Yeah. I try to avoid violent metaphors, being a counselor and all, but that one is really good."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*No idea.*
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’m not thirsty. I just need to find out how they’re hiding from me. It’s like Where’s Wally with the entire multiverse.”
Šeansal takes a slightly different path, such that he won’t arrive until Jax has left.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*fair enough ig*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
“How was it violent?”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"Shoving. Honestly, it's not that bad, but I work with a lot of kids who don't understand what a metaphor is, so I try to think in their terms. I guess that's rich coming from me, given that I'm usually packing a cursed revolver that redefined the term 'Hell' as its own name. Nasty thing. Hate touching it." He takes a sip of his coffee, then seems to realize something. "I'm not supposed to talk about that." He says this with a more curious than worried tone.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels