*It's all good, I was too busy eating dinner to notice.*
He pours her a cup of piping-hot apple-cherry tea, made with whole tea leaves, and nods. "Maybe. Going around killing people is fun, but I don't like the guilt that comes with it. I gotta have a reason. Other than hasty generalizations and moralizing humanoid nature, I mean." He takes a sip of his own tea. "I don't want to go back to my old job. You saw how... edgy it made me."
She gratefully accepts the offered tea- she doesn't have a mouth, but it's the thought that counts. "I can understand that- the part about murder being fun, maybe less so- but still. People act in ways that make no sense all the time- I can see why a job about finding sense in senseless behavior would bring out the worst in someone."
He sighs and looks at his tiny teacup. "I looked outside today. From my hotel. And you know what I saw? People. Just people. They lived miserable lives under the thumbs of miserable people. But they found joy in things. Little things. 'Why can't I do that?' I asked myself. 'Because women frustrate me. Men bore me. Food never satiates and I never awaken restful.' I reply in all seriousness. I laugh. 'You state symptoms when I was asking for the disease!' 'Well, I don't know the disease.' 'Well, I do.' And I stopped. 'What is it?' I asked myself, hesitant. 'You're not a person.' And I didn't know how to respond. How do you respond to something like that?"
KK pauses for a second, thinking about his words. "I... I can't think of how." She is silent, looking into her reflection in the tea.
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 coven seems to like him already, pouring him tea, putting doilies on his lap, getting him pie. Eventually, they all sit down. Greasegrip speaks. "Now, first order of business: my Grandson, Thane, is in trouble with the Valentine Sisters. I'm going to kill them, and both of you are going to help. I need all the shadows and scarecrows and bullywugs and banderhobbs and all that fun stuff. We're going on a raid, sisters!" The other two, originally hesitant, cheer.
Geralt takes the tea, sipping it slowly and nodding, though he doesn’t know how he ended up in this situation he is pleasantly enjoying it. Once he finishes his sip he asks through sign “Who is Thane? Can I help?” His eyes glow softly as he seems to grow warmer with heat.
The Mother of Grease smiles at him. "Thane is my boy. He's a big dragon zombie man, and a strapping one at that. He deserves the best. Not the hell those devils put him through day after day." Her smile fades. She slams her fist on the table, crushing her own teacup. "GRRAHH! They make him fight his best friend day after day. The sisters' brother. And they tear him apart, crush his bones to sand, make him cry blood. I will not stand for this!!" She begins to stretch out into her true form, much to the distress of her sisters. "Granny Greasegrip, get a hold of yourself! We have company!" Cries the Crone. "I don't care..." comes a breathy hiss from Greasegrip. She turns her hunched body to Geralt. "Please, save my boy. He needs all the love in the world, and I refuse to let him suffer this hatred. Anything you need, I will provide. No catch, no contracts, no deals." "But the rule of reciprocity!" Shouts the Maiden, before a glare makes her cower.
He sighs and looks at his tiny teacup. "I looked outside today. From my hotel. And you know what I saw? People. Just people. They lived miserable lives under the thumbs of miserable people. But they found joy in things. Little things. 'Why can't I do that?' I asked myself. 'Because women frustrate me. Men bore me. Food never satiates and I never awaken restful.' I reply in all seriousness. I laugh. 'You state symptoms when I was asking for the disease!' 'Well, I don't know the disease.' 'Well, I do.' And I stopped. 'What is it?' I asked myself, hesitant. 'You're not a person.' And I didn't know how to respond. How do you respond to something like that?"
KK pauses for a second, thinking about his words. "I... I can't think of how." She is silent, looking into her reflection in the tea.
He sighs, taking a sip. "These things... why can't we just be happy?"
The Mother of Grease smiles at him. "Thane is my boy. He's a big dragon zombie man, and a strapping one at that. He deserves the best. Not the hell those devils put him through day after day." Her smile fades. She slams her fist on the table, crushing her own teacup. "GRRAHH! They make him fight his best friend day after day. The sisters' brother. And they tear him apart, crush his bones to sand, make him cry blood. I will not stand for this!!" She begins to stretch out into her true form, much to the distress of her sisters. "Granny Greasegrip, get a hold of yourself! We have company!" Cries the Crone. "I don't care..." comes a breathy hiss from Greasegrip. She turns her hunched body to Geralt. "Please, save my boy. He needs all the love in the world, and I refuse to let him suffer this hatred. Anything you need, I will provide. No catch, no contracts, no deals." "But the rule of reciprocity!" Shouts the Maiden, before a glare makes her cower.
"(Gp) the rules." Growls the ancient one.
He nods slowly, surprised by the true form of the Crone, signing “I don’t know if I can defeat them, based on how they sound, and what they seem to have done to this Thane, but I’ll do my best to help where I can.” He looks to them, steeling himself for the agreement he choosing to make “Monsters like that don’t deserve to live, if what you say is true.”
He sighs and looks at his tiny teacup. "I looked outside today. From my hotel. And you know what I saw? People. Just people. They lived miserable lives under the thumbs of miserable people. But they found joy in things. Little things. 'Why can't I do that?' I asked myself. 'Because women frustrate me. Men bore me. Food never satiates and I never awaken restful.' I reply in all seriousness. I laugh. 'You state symptoms when I was asking for the disease!' 'Well, I don't know the disease.' 'Well, I do.' And I stopped. 'What is it?' I asked myself, hesitant. 'You're not a person.' And I didn't know how to respond. How do you respond to something like that?"
KK pauses for a second, thinking about his words. "I... I can't think of how." She is silent, looking into her reflection in the tea.
He sighs, taking a sip. "These things... why can't we just be happy?"
She thinks for a long while. "I don't know how much this will help, but... what do you like to do as a hobby, if anything? Happiness isn't something that can be bottled and preserved forever- but maybe finding something you enjoy will help hold onto those moments of happiness a little while longer?"
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)
Hello everyone! Taika is still trying to sell Bug.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) just trying to spread a little positivity wherever I can<3 Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult) I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3 Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
Loriche is scrounging up old metal scraps from around town to melt back down.
Geralt is walking through the town, the sound of his chained greatsword and rags filling the air, his body leaking an unnatural heat, like that of a desert.
The Mother of Grease smiles at him. "Thane is my boy. He's a big dragon zombie man, and a strapping one at that. He deserves the best. Not the hell those devils put him through day after day." Her smile fades. She slams her fist on the table, crushing her own teacup. "GRRAHH! They make him fight his best friend day after day. The sisters' brother. And they tear him apart, crush his bones to sand, make him cry blood. I will not stand for this!!" She begins to stretch out into her true form, much to the distress of her sisters. "Granny Greasegrip, get a hold of yourself! We have company!" Cries the Crone. "I don't care..." comes a breathy hiss from Greasegrip. She turns her hunched body to Geralt. "Please, save my boy. He needs all the love in the world, and I refuse to let him suffer this hatred. Anything you need, I will provide. No catch, no contracts, no deals." "But the rule of reciprocity!" Shouts the Maiden, before a glare makes her cower.
"(Gp) the rules." Growls the ancient one.
He nods slowly, surprised by the true form of the Crone, signing “I don’t know if I can defeat them, based on how they sound, and what they seem to have done to this Thane, but I’ll do my best to help where I can.” He looks to them, steeling himself for the agreement he choosing to make “Monsters like that don’t deserve to live, if what you say is true.”
"Any help is important, dear." She shrinks back down to her little old lady guise and sits down. "As of now, you are my grandson as well. Anyone willing to make such a commitment, I will dub a grandchild. Bring whoever you wish. This will be done. No one... NO ONE... hurts my grandchildren."
The Mother of Grease smiles at him. "Thane is my boy. He's a big dragon zombie man, and a strapping one at that. He deserves the best. Not the hell those devils put him through day after day." Her smile fades. She slams her fist on the table, crushing her own teacup. "GRRAHH! They make him fight his best friend day after day. The sisters' brother. And they tear him apart, crush his bones to sand, make him cry blood. I will not stand for this!!" She begins to stretch out into her true form, much to the distress of her sisters. "Granny Greasegrip, get a hold of yourself! We have company!" Cries the Crone. "I don't care..." comes a breathy hiss from Greasegrip. She turns her hunched body to Geralt. "Please, save my boy. He needs all the love in the world, and I refuse to let him suffer this hatred. Anything you need, I will provide. No catch, no contracts, no deals." "But the rule of reciprocity!" Shouts the Maiden, before a glare makes her cower.
"(Gp) the rules." Growls the ancient one.
He nods slowly, surprised by the true form of the Crone, signing “I don’t know if I can defeat them, based on how they sound, and what they seem to have done to this Thane, but I’ll do my best to help where I can.” He looks to them, steeling himself for the agreement he choosing to make “Monsters like that don’t deserve to live, if what you say is true.”
"Any help is important, dear." She shrinks back down to her little old lady guise and sits down. "As of now, you are my grandson as well. Anyone willing to make such a commitment, I will dub a grandchild. Bring whoever you wish. This will be done. No one... NO ONE... hurts my grandchildren."
He looks at them confused, but accepts the new grandmother heartily “I’m happy to be your grandson.” He signs, beaming and finishing off the remains of his tea, looking to the other Crones, wondering to himself how often this happens.
*I feel that, pretty calm*
KK pauses for a second, thinking about his words. "I... I can't think of how." She is silent, looking into her reflection in the tea.
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 Mother of Grease smiles at him. "Thane is my boy. He's a big dragon zombie man, and a strapping one at that. He deserves the best. Not the hell those devils put him through day after day." Her smile fades. She slams her fist on the table, crushing her own teacup. "GRRAHH! They make him fight his best friend day after day. The sisters' brother. And they tear him apart, crush his bones to sand, make him cry blood. I will not stand for this!!" She begins to stretch out into her true form, much to the distress of her sisters. "Granny Greasegrip, get a hold of yourself! We have company!" Cries the Crone. "I don't care..." comes a breathy hiss from Greasegrip. She turns her hunched body to Geralt. "Please, save my boy. He needs all the love in the world, and I refuse to let him suffer this hatred. Anything you need, I will provide. No catch, no contracts, no deals." "But the rule of reciprocity!" Shouts the Maiden, before a glare makes her cower.
"(Gp) the rules." Growls the ancient one.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*I’m back everybody*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*Welcome back my friend.*
He sighs, taking a sip. "These things... why can't we just be happy?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*Hey*
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
*Welcome back! How doth thee fare?*
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 nods slowly, surprised by the true form of the Crone, signing “I don’t know if I can defeat them, based on how they sound, and what they seem to have done to this Thane, but I’ll do my best to help where I can.” He looks to them, steeling himself for the agreement he choosing to make “Monsters like that don’t deserve to live, if what you say is true.”
She thinks for a long while. "I don't know how much this will help, but... what do you like to do as a hobby, if anything? Happiness isn't something that can be bottled and preserved forever- but maybe finding something you enjoy will help hold onto those moments of happiness a little while longer?"
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)
*Man I want to make another character but I’ve got no ideas, maybe tomorrow then.*
Hello everyone!
Taika is still trying to sell Bug.
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) just trying to spread a little positivity wherever I can<3
Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult)
I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3
Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose
Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
Thirteen is on the stone with one of his parallel selves.
Mauric is burning a phase spider nest with his Inn-issued blowtorch.
Loriche is scrounging up old metal scraps from around town to melt back down.
Riotan is digging a hole behind the tavern, burying his emotions.
Vitroze is fishing books out of their neck at a table in the back.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*I love the lobotomy bart pfp by the way*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
Geralt is walking through the town, the sound of his chained greatsword and rags filling the air, his body leaking an unnatural heat, like that of a desert.
"Any help is important, dear." She shrinks back down to her little old lady guise and sits down. "As of now, you are my grandson as well. Anyone willing to make such a commitment, I will dub a grandchild. Bring whoever you wish. This will be done. No one... NO ONE... hurts my grandchildren."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*he’s just Jon Witcher from the hit series The Witcher?*
She looks up and waves enthusiastically, holding a splintered 4mm-thick sheet of aluminum. “Hi!!”
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 looks at them confused, but accepts the new grandmother heartily “I’m happy to be your grandson.” He signs, beaming and finishing off the remains of his tea, looking to the other Crones, wondering to himself how often this happens.
*You are welcome. Cursed pictures are my life.*
Luciano looks upon Mauric's arson with a sad face.
Samaritan appears behind him, having a smoke "What are you doing?"
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
*Luckily not, trying to keep up with original characters.*
The deeply tanned man waves back at them, revealing the chain grafted to their arm and connected to the sword, signing “Hello.”