*Hmmm... perhaps I just add a culinary flavor to his spells, clothing, or weapons. Like his swords could be obscenely long knives, and he could have food embroidered on his justacorps once he gets set up with cash for indulgences.*
*Have you played Payday two? If you have, you may know the notorious Golden Spoon weapon, which not only is one of the strongest melee weapons, but also adds burn damage. Just thought you might want to give him a massive spoon.*
*I have not, but I know about the Golden Spoon.*
*I'm going to be actually playing this character in a one-on-one game with my DM. We've already workshopped the setting a bit, and I can basically have whatever I want because I'm running a one-on-one game for him as well. I asked for a culinary horror setting, while I'm doing basically Shadowrun for him.*
*Also, on a side note, Hyacinthe takes a bit of inspiration from Suguru Geto from JJK. I'm not sure exactly how much inspiration I'm going to take yet, though.*
Hyacinthe is stretching out the skins of the deer on tanning racks. After selling the meat he and Sparrow hunted for, he is dressed in moderately better clothing (IE, a set of commoner's garb). He looks almost like an actual person now.
Coterie is wandering in the forest, and ambles over, curious about what he's doing. "Oh, hello there."
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)
*Hmmm... perhaps I just add a culinary flavor to his spells, clothing, or weapons. Like his swords could be obscenely long knives, and he could have food embroidered on his justacorps once he gets set up with cash for indulgences.*
*Have you played Payday two? If you have, you may know the notorious Golden Spoon weapon, which not only is one of the strongest melee weapons, but also adds burn damage. Just thought you might want to give him a massive spoon.*
*I have not, but I know about the Golden Spoon.*
*I'm going to be actually playing this character in a one-on-one game with my DM. We've already workshopped the setting a bit, and I can basically have whatever I want because I'm running a one-on-one game for him as well. I asked for a culinary horror setting, while I'm doing basically Shadowrun for him.*
*Also, on a side note, Hyacinthe takes a bit of inspiration from Suguru Geto from JJK. I'm not sure exactly how much inspiration I'm going to take yet, though.*
*Oh you could give him the Playful Cloud, but make it a spoon. As for that, it’s up to you man, I believe in you though.^
Hyacinthe is stretching out the skins of the deer on tanning racks. After selling the meat he and Sparrow hunted for, he is dressed in moderately better clothing (IE, a set of commoner's garb). He looks almost like an actual person now.
Lacai is making his rounds about the town, calling out several items sold at his cart.
The lanky oni hears this and grabs up the little bag of silver he got for the fine venison. He strides over to Lacai, smiling in his usual tight-lipped way as he bows. "Hello, friend. I am finally affluent enough to make a purchase... depending on what it is I happen to need."
Hyacinthe is stretching out the skins of the deer on tanning racks. After selling the meat he and Sparrow hunted for, he is dressed in moderately better clothing (IE, a set of commoner's garb). He looks almost like an actual person now.
They hear the sound of what would be shattering rock near a cave in the forest. It doesn’t sound like explosions, closer to someone hitting the rock there. They can hear someone grunting, and the sound always quickly follows after. Sounds like someone is training, or something similar.
Samaritan storms through the bustling kitchen, his voice booming as he reprimands the staff to quicken their pace. The clatter of pots and the sizzling of ingredients fill the air, but his authoritative presence demands immediate compliance. Meanwhile, in his office, he meticulously tallies the restaurant's earnings, a thick cigar firmly gripped between the teeth of his middle head, smoke curling lazily around him as he assesses the day's success.
Stroth sits in the bustling tavern, her fingers deftly tracing intricate sigils onto the surfaces of nearby objects. With each delicate stroke, she imbues them with hidden power, transforming mundane items into formidable weapons ready for battle. The glow of the tavern's flickering candles reflects off her concentrated face, illuminating the bizarre symbols that swirl together, hinting at secrets waiting to be unleashed.
Home is beating the absolute living [GP] out of a body writhing in the body bag, his face cold and neutral despite the body's scream for help.
Hyacinthe is stretching out the skins of the deer on tanning racks. After selling the meat he and Sparrow hunted for, he is dressed in moderately better clothing (IE, a set of commoner's garb). He looks almost like an actual person now.
They hear the sound of what would be shattering rock near a cave in the forest. It doesn’t sound like explosions, closer to someone hitting the rock there. They can hear someone grunting, and the sound always quickly follows after. Sounds like someone is training, or something similar.
Samaritan storms through the bustling kitchen, his voice booming as he reprimands the staff to quicken their pace. The clatter of pots and the sizzling of ingredients fill the air, but his authoritative presence demands immediate compliance. Meanwhile, in his office, he meticulously tallies the restaurant's earnings, a thick cigar firmly gripped between the teeth of his middle head, smoke curling lazily around him as he assesses the day's success.
Stroth sits in the bustling tavern, her fingers deftly tracing intricate sigils onto the surfaces of nearby objects. With each delicate stroke, she imbues them with hidden power, transforming mundane items into formidable weapons ready for battle. The glow of the tavern's flickering candles reflects off her concentrated face, illuminating the bizarre symbols that swirl together, hinting at secrets waiting to be unleashed.
Home is beating the absolute living [GP] out of a body writhing in the body bag, his face cold and neutral despite the body's scream for help.
*I'll interact in a minute, I just need a bit of time.*
Samaritan storms through the bustling kitchen, his voice booming as he reprimands the staff to quicken their pace. The clatter of pots and the sizzling of ingredients fill the air, but his authoritative presence demands immediate compliance. Meanwhile, in his office, he meticulously tallies the restaurant's earnings, a thick cigar firmly gripped between the teeth of his middle head, smoke curling lazily around him as he assesses the day's success.
Stroth sits in the bustling tavern, her fingers deftly tracing intricate sigils onto the surfaces of nearby objects. With each delicate stroke, she imbues them with hidden power, transforming mundane items into formidable weapons ready for battle. The glow of the tavern's flickering candles reflects off her concentrated face, illuminating the bizarre symbols that swirl together, hinting at secrets waiting to be unleashed.
Home is beating the absolute living [GP] out of a body writhing in the body bag, his face cold and neutral despite the body's scream for help.
KK enters the Inn, noticing Stroth carving the symbols and moving over to her. "What are you doing working on?"
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)
Hyacinthe is stretching out the skins of the deer on tanning racks. After selling the meat he and Sparrow hunted for, he is dressed in moderately better clothing (IE, a set of commoner's garb). He looks almost like an actual person now.
They hear the sound of what would be shattering rock near a cave in the forest. It doesn’t sound like explosions, closer to someone hitting the rock there. They can hear someone grunting, and the sound always quickly follows after. Sounds like someone is training, or something similar.
*Just got back from dinner!*
He heads over that way, curious but cautious.
They would see Merabelle, tossing basic stones into the wall side with immense force, shattering stone like glass with her strength alone.
Samaritan storms through the bustling kitchen, his voice booming as he reprimands the staff to quicken their pace. The clatter of pots and the sizzling of ingredients fill the air, but his authoritative presence demands immediate compliance. Meanwhile, in his office, he meticulously tallies the restaurant's earnings, a thick cigar firmly gripped between the teeth of his middle head, smoke curling lazily around him as he assesses the day's success.
Stroth sits in the bustling tavern, her fingers deftly tracing intricate sigils onto the surfaces of nearby objects. With each delicate stroke, she imbues them with hidden power, transforming mundane items into formidable weapons ready for battle. The glow of the tavern's flickering candles reflects off her concentrated face, illuminating the bizarre symbols that swirl together, hinting at secrets waiting to be unleashed.
Home is beating the absolute living [GP] out of a body writhing in the body bag, his face cold and neutral despite the body's scream for help.
*Do you want to deal with any of mine, and if so, anyone in particular?*
Samaritan storms through the bustling kitchen, his voice booming as he reprimands the staff to quicken their pace. The clatter of pots and the sizzling of ingredients fill the air, but his authoritative presence demands immediate compliance. Meanwhile, in his office, he meticulously tallies the restaurant's earnings, a thick cigar firmly gripped between the teeth of his middle head, smoke curling lazily around him as he assesses the day's success.
Stroth sits in the bustling tavern, her fingers deftly tracing intricate sigils onto the surfaces of nearby objects. With each delicate stroke, she imbues them with hidden power, transforming mundane items into formidable weapons ready for battle. The glow of the tavern's flickering candles reflects off her concentrated face, illuminating the bizarre symbols that swirl together, hinting at secrets waiting to be unleashed.
Home is beating the absolute living [GP] out of a body writhing in the body bag, his face cold and neutral despite the body's scream for help.
KK enters the Inn, noticing Stroth carving the symbols and moving over to her. "What are you doing working on?"
Her head snaps around, chuckling madly "If someone taps these little sigils here, they'll turn into straight weapons for the user!"
Samaritan storms through the bustling kitchen, his voice booming as he reprimands the staff to quicken their pace. The clatter of pots and the sizzling of ingredients fill the air, but his authoritative presence demands immediate compliance. Meanwhile, in his office, he meticulously tallies the restaurant's earnings, a thick cigar firmly gripped between the teeth of his middle head, smoke curling lazily around him as he assesses the day's success.
Stroth sits in the bustling tavern, her fingers deftly tracing intricate sigils onto the surfaces of nearby objects. With each delicate stroke, she imbues them with hidden power, transforming mundane items into formidable weapons ready for battle. The glow of the tavern's flickering candles reflects off her concentrated face, illuminating the bizarre symbols that swirl together, hinting at secrets waiting to be unleashed.
Home is beating the absolute living [GP] out of a body writhing in the body bag, his face cold and neutral despite the body's scream for help.
*Do you want to deal with any of mine, and if so, anyone in particular?*
Samaritan storms through the bustling kitchen, his voice booming as he reprimands the staff to quicken their pace. The clatter of pots and the sizzling of ingredients fill the air, but his authoritative presence demands immediate compliance. Meanwhile, in his office, he meticulously tallies the restaurant's earnings, a thick cigar firmly gripped between the teeth of his middle head, smoke curling lazily around him as he assesses the day's success.
Stroth sits in the bustling tavern, her fingers deftly tracing intricate sigils onto the surfaces of nearby objects. With each delicate stroke, she imbues them with hidden power, transforming mundane items into formidable weapons ready for battle. The glow of the tavern's flickering candles reflects off her concentrated face, illuminating the bizarre symbols that swirl together, hinting at secrets waiting to be unleashed.
Home is beating the absolute living [GP] out of a body writhing in the body bag, his face cold and neutral despite the body's scream for help.
KK enters the Inn, noticing Stroth carving the symbols and moving over to her. "What are you doing working on?"
Her head snaps around, chuckling madly "If someone taps these little sigils here, they'll turn into straight weapons for the user!"
She looks over at the imbued objects with a similarly unhinged sense of glee. "Ooh, that sounds so cool! What are you making them for?"
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)
Stroth sits in the bustling tavern, her fingers deftly tracing intricate sigils onto the surfaces of nearby objects. With each delicate stroke, she imbues them with hidden power, transforming mundane items into formidable weapons ready for battle. The glow of the tavern's flickering candles reflects off her concentrated face, illuminating the bizarre symbols that swirl together, hinting at secrets waiting to be unleashed.
*Do you want to deal with any of mine, and if so, anyone in particular?*
*Anyone is good :D*
*Oh the fear of choice,*
Sparrow walks into the scene, sitting down near where she is, patiently waiting for her to finish what she started. Cleaning the blood of the deers of his gloves, seeing all of the battle she’s preparing for, and happily waiting for her to explain the situation. He orders them both drinks for the table and lights a smoke, blowing into the air.
Samaritan storms through the bustling kitchen, his voice booming as he reprimands the staff to quicken their pace. The clatter of pots and the sizzling of ingredients fill the air, but his authoritative presence demands immediate compliance. Meanwhile, in his office, he meticulously tallies the restaurant's earnings, a thick cigar firmly gripped between the teeth of his middle head, smoke curling lazily around him as he assesses the day's success.
Stroth sits in the bustling tavern, her fingers deftly tracing intricate sigils onto the surfaces of nearby objects. With each delicate stroke, she imbues them with hidden power, transforming mundane items into formidable weapons ready for battle. The glow of the tavern's flickering candles reflects off her concentrated face, illuminating the bizarre symbols that swirl together, hinting at secrets waiting to be unleashed.
Home is beating the absolute living [GP] out of a body writhing in the body bag, his face cold and neutral despite the body's scream for help.
KK enters the Inn, noticing Stroth carving the symbols and moving over to her. "What are you doing working on?"
Her head snaps around, chuckling madly "If someone taps these little sigils here, they'll turn into straight weapons for the user!"
She looks over at the imbued objects with a similarly unhinged sense of glee. "Ooh, that sounds so cool! What are you making them for?"
"Just in case anyone needs them!" She stands up and places a finger over the sigil. The chair begins to levitate and turn in on itself, defying any law of physics as it begins to turn into a sword.
Samaritan storms through the bustling kitchen, his voice booming as he reprimands the staff to quicken their pace. The clatter of pots and the sizzling of ingredients fill the air, but his authoritative presence demands immediate compliance. Meanwhile, in his office, he meticulously tallies the restaurant's earnings, a thick cigar firmly gripped between the teeth of his middle head, smoke curling lazily around him as he assesses the day's success.
Stroth sits in the bustling tavern, her fingers deftly tracing intricate sigils onto the surfaces of nearby objects. With each delicate stroke, she imbues them with hidden power, transforming mundane items into formidable weapons ready for battle. The glow of the tavern's flickering candles reflects off her concentrated face, illuminating the bizarre symbols that swirl together, hinting at secrets waiting to be unleashed.
Home is beating the absolute living [GP] out of a body writhing in the body bag, his face cold and neutral despite the body's scream for help.
*I'll interact in a minute, I just need a bit of time.*
They would see Merabelle, tossing basic stones into the wall side with immense force, shattering stone like glass with her strength alone.
He watches from a safe distance, considering that maybe he shouldn't be here.
She cracks her neck and knuckles, both making thunderous sound before putting the stones down, shifting the wall back to being fine with magical prowess.
Stroth sits in the bustling tavern, her fingers deftly tracing intricate sigils onto the surfaces of nearby objects. With each delicate stroke, she imbues them with hidden power, transforming mundane items into formidable weapons ready for battle. The glow of the tavern's flickering candles reflects off her concentrated face, illuminating the bizarre symbols that swirl together, hinting at secrets waiting to be unleashed.
*Do you want to deal with any of mine, and if so, anyone in particular?*
*Anyone is good :D*
*Oh the fear of choice,*
Sparrow walks into the scene, sitting down near where she is, patiently waiting for her to finish what she started. Cleaning the blood of the deers of his gloves, seeing all of the battle she’s preparing for, and happily waiting for her to explain the situation. He orders them both drinks for the table and lights a smoke, blowing into the air.
She giggles and leans her head back into his lap "Hi handsome!"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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
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*I have not, but I know about the Golden Spoon.*
*I'm going to be actually playing this character in a one-on-one game with my DM. We've already workshopped the setting a bit, and I can basically have whatever I want because I'm running a one-on-one game for him as well. I asked for a culinary horror setting, while I'm doing basically Shadowrun for him.*
*Also, on a side note, Hyacinthe takes a bit of inspiration from Suguru Geto from JJK. I'm not sure exactly how much inspiration I'm going to take yet, though.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
Coterie is wandering in the forest, and ambles over, curious about what he's doing. "Oh, hello there."
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)
*Oh you could give him the Playful Cloud, but make it a spoon. As for that, it’s up to you man, I believe in you though.^
The lanky oni hears this and grabs up the little bag of silver he got for the fine venison. He strides over to Lacai, smiling in his usual tight-lipped way as he bows. "Hello, friend. I am finally affluent enough to make a purchase... depending on what it is I happen to need."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
They hear the sound of what would be shattering rock near a cave in the forest. It doesn’t sound like explosions, closer to someone hitting the rock there. They can hear someone grunting, and the sound always quickly follows after. Sounds like someone is training, or something similar.
Samaritan storms through the bustling kitchen, his voice booming as he reprimands the staff to quicken their pace. The clatter of pots and the sizzling of ingredients fill the air, but his authoritative presence demands immediate compliance. Meanwhile, in his office, he meticulously tallies the restaurant's earnings, a thick cigar firmly gripped between the teeth of his middle head, smoke curling lazily around him as he assesses the day's success.
Stroth sits in the bustling tavern, her fingers deftly tracing intricate sigils onto the surfaces of nearby objects. With each delicate stroke, she imbues them with hidden power, transforming mundane items into formidable weapons ready for battle. The glow of the tavern's flickering candles reflects off her concentrated face, illuminating the bizarre symbols that swirl together, hinting at secrets waiting to be unleashed.
Home is beating the absolute living [GP] out of a body writhing in the body bag, his face cold and neutral despite the body's scream for help.
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
*Just got back from dinner!*
He heads over that way, curious but cautious.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*I'll interact in a minute, I just need a bit of time.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
KK enters the Inn, noticing Stroth carving the symbols and moving over to her. "What are you doing working on?"
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)
They would see Merabelle, tossing basic stones into the wall side with immense force, shattering stone like glass with her strength alone.
*Do you want to deal with any of mine, and if so, anyone in particular?*
Her head snaps around, chuckling madly "If someone taps these little sigils here, they'll turn into straight weapons for the user!"
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
*Anyone is good :D*
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
She looks over at the imbued objects with a similarly unhinged sense of glee. "Ooh, that sounds so cool! What are you making them for?"
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)
He watches from a safe distance, considering that maybe he shouldn't be here.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*Oh the fear of choice,*
Sparrow walks into the scene, sitting down near where she is, patiently waiting for her to finish what she started. Cleaning the blood of the deers of his gloves, seeing all of the battle she’s preparing for, and happily waiting for her to explain the situation. He orders them both drinks for the table and lights a smoke, blowing into the air.
"Just in case anyone needs them!" She stands up and places a finger over the sigil. The chair begins to levitate and turn in on itself, defying any law of physics as it begins to turn into a sword.
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
*Okie :)*
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
She cracks her neck and knuckles, both making thunderous sound before putting the stones down, shifting the wall back to being fine with magical prowess.
She giggles and leans her head back into his lap "Hi handsome!"
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