Uncle Pastel places a large, sliced, two-tiered cake on the bar counter. He seems satisfied with his work.
The shady figure sitting at the table eyes it hungrily. "Hey mate," he says in his gravelly voice, "That looks delicious. Would you spare a piece?"
Pastel smiles. "Of course! Food without someone to eat it is just pointless decay." Pastel cuts a large slice for the stranger and brings it over to him.
The stranger shovels it into his mouth hungrily with complete disregard for manners. His lips smack and when finished, he lets out a loud belch. He then says with a partly full mouth, "Thanks mate, that was delicious."
"I'm certainly glad that I could help satisfy your hunger."
"Say, you're an odd lookin' fellow. Where are you from?" He leans back in his seat and begins picking his teeth.
"Well, I was raised by a green hag in the middle of a barren woods. I learned a lot of tricks from her."
"A hag you say? I have trained under a couple hags in my time." You wouldn't happen to be in the market for.... interesting merchandise, would you?" He leans closer.
"It depends on what kind." The sugar mogul sits down. "I already have plenty, but excess is my game."
"Well you see, I'm an arms dealer." He glances around to make sure no one is watching, and he then pulls open his coat and you see lining the insides of it are many different arms. Muscular arms, skinny arms, clawed arms, green arms, hairy arms, robotical arms, and more. "I have here some mighty fine ingredients for many different witches brews. Troll fingers can be hard to come by, and these ones are still wriggling, and this here arm has the broken fingers of a murderer, great for all sorts of dark concoctions." He looks over at you, his golden teeth gleaming in his grin, " See any that catches your fancy?"
Uncle Pastel places a large, sliced, two-tiered cake on the bar counter. He seems satisfied with his work.
The shady figure sitting at the table eyes it hungrily. "Hey mate," he says in his gravelly voice, "That looks delicious. Would you spare a piece?"
Pastel smiles. "Of course! Food without someone to eat it is just pointless decay." Pastel cuts a large slice for the stranger and brings it over to him.
The stranger shovels it into his mouth hungrily with complete disregard for manners. His lips smack and when finished, he lets out a loud belch. He then says with a partly full mouth, "Thanks mate, that was delicious."
"I'm certainly glad that I could help satisfy your hunger."
"Say, you're an odd lookin' fellow. Where are you from?" He leans back in his seat and begins picking his teeth.
"Well, I was raised by a green hag in the middle of a barren woods. I learned a lot of tricks from her."
"A hag you say? I have trained under a couple hags in my time." You wouldn't happen to be in the market for.... interesting merchandise, would you?" He leans closer.
"It depends on what kind." The sugar mogul sits down. "I already have plenty, but excess is my game."
"Well you see, I'm an arms dealer." He glances around to make sure no one is watching, and he then pulls open his coat and you see lining the insides of it are many different arms. Muscular arms, skinny arms, clawed arms, green arms, hairy arms, robotical arms, and more. "I have here some mighty fine ingredients for many different witches brews. Troll fingers can be hard to come by, and these ones are still wriggling, and this here arm has the broken fingers of a murderer, great for all sorts of dark concoctions." He looks over at you, his golden teeth gleaming in his grin, " See any that catches your fancy?"
Pastel rubs his chin. "Any red dragon or similar cousins?"
The door slowly creaks open, and a rather interesting looking man walks in. To start with, he seems to be shirtless, instead wearing a black leather trench coat with a slight shine to it. He also has on black leather pants held up with a silver chain belt, tucked into a pair of black combat boots. Most notably, though, are his metal clawed gauntlets, also silver. His skin is surprisingly pale for someone shirtless, yet he actually has a bit of muscle, although he is just a bit toned. His oily black hair is medium length and slicked back smoothly, although the ends are very wild, pointing in every which way. He has dark crimson eyes, and an old scar is set vertically on his left one, reaching from near the top of his forehead, past his eye, and ending around the middle of his cheek area. He smile widely, revealing with a glint that his teeth were unnaturally sharp for someone who seemed human.
*Reboot of an old character of mine*
*Ayyyy! It's-a da yeen! You're back!*
*blep*
*Time split time*
Uncle Pastel looks a bit self-conscious as he feels his own sharp teeth with his tongue. He still smiles, but the excitement seems to be diminished.
Uncle Pastel places a large, sliced, two-tiered cake on the bar counter. He seems satisfied with his work.
The shady figure sitting at the table eyes it hungrily. "Hey mate," he says in his gravelly voice, "That looks delicious. Would you spare a piece?"
Pastel smiles. "Of course! Food without someone to eat it is just pointless decay." Pastel cuts a large slice for the stranger and brings it over to him.
The stranger shovels it into his mouth hungrily with complete disregard for manners. His lips smack and when finished, he lets out a loud belch. He then says with a partly full mouth, "Thanks mate, that was delicious."
"I'm certainly glad that I could help satisfy your hunger."
"Say, you're an odd lookin' fellow. Where are you from?" He leans back in his seat and begins picking his teeth.
"Well, I was raised by a green hag in the middle of a barren woods. I learned a lot of tricks from her."
"A hag you say? I have trained under a couple hags in my time." You wouldn't happen to be in the market for.... interesting merchandise, would you?" He leans closer.
"It depends on what kind." The sugar mogul sits down. "I already have plenty, but excess is my game."
"Well you see, I'm an arms dealer." He glances around to make sure no one is watching, and he then pulls open his coat and you see lining the insides of it are many different arms. Muscular arms, skinny arms, clawed arms, green arms, hairy arms, robotical arms, and more. "I have here some mighty fine ingredients for many different witches brews. Troll fingers can be hard to come by, and these ones are still wriggling, and this here arm has the broken fingers of a murderer, great for all sorts of dark concoctions." He looks over at you, his golden teeth gleaming in his grin, " See any that catches your fancy?"
Pastel rubs his chin. "Any red dragon or similar cousins?"
"Hmm...." He surveys his assortment of dismembered appendages, " Does red dragonborn count? I also have a gold dragon's left forearm, would that work?"
Uncle Pastel places a large, sliced, two-tiered cake on the bar counter. He seems satisfied with his work.
The shady figure sitting at the table eyes it hungrily. "Hey mate," he says in his gravelly voice, "That looks delicious. Would you spare a piece?"
Pastel smiles. "Of course! Food without someone to eat it is just pointless decay." Pastel cuts a large slice for the stranger and brings it over to him.
The stranger shovels it into his mouth hungrily with complete disregard for manners. His lips smack and when finished, he lets out a loud belch. He then says with a partly full mouth, "Thanks mate, that was delicious."
"I'm certainly glad that I could help satisfy your hunger."
"Say, you're an odd lookin' fellow. Where are you from?" He leans back in his seat and begins picking his teeth.
"Well, I was raised by a green hag in the middle of a barren woods. I learned a lot of tricks from her."
"A hag you say? I have trained under a couple hags in my time." You wouldn't happen to be in the market for.... interesting merchandise, would you?" He leans closer.
"It depends on what kind." The sugar mogul sits down. "I already have plenty, but excess is my game."
"Well you see, I'm an arms dealer." He glances around to make sure no one is watching, and he then pulls open his coat and you see lining the insides of it are many different arms. Muscular arms, skinny arms, clawed arms, green arms, hairy arms, robotical arms, and more. "I have here some mighty fine ingredients for many different witches brews. Troll fingers can be hard to come by, and these ones are still wriggling, and this here arm has the broken fingers of a murderer, great for all sorts of dark concoctions." He looks over at you, his golden teeth gleaming in his grin, " See any that catches your fancy?"
Pastel rubs his chin. "Any red dragon or similar cousins?"
"Hmm...." He surveys his assortment of dismembered appendages, " Does red dragonborn count? I also have a gold dragon's left forearm, would that work?"
"Gold would be excellent. They don't have quite the same heat to them, but they have a flash value that is difficult to ignore."
Uncle Pastel places a large, sliced, two-tiered cake on the bar counter. He seems satisfied with his work.
The shady figure sitting at the table eyes it hungrily. "Hey mate," he says in his gravelly voice, "That looks delicious. Would you spare a piece?"
Pastel smiles. "Of course! Food without someone to eat it is just pointless decay." Pastel cuts a large slice for the stranger and brings it over to him.
The stranger shovels it into his mouth hungrily with complete disregard for manners. His lips smack and when finished, he lets out a loud belch. He then says with a partly full mouth, "Thanks mate, that was delicious."
"I'm certainly glad that I could help satisfy your hunger."
"Say, you're an odd lookin' fellow. Where are you from?" He leans back in his seat and begins picking his teeth.
"Well, I was raised by a green hag in the middle of a barren woods. I learned a lot of tricks from her."
"A hag you say? I have trained under a couple hags in my time." You wouldn't happen to be in the market for.... interesting merchandise, would you?" He leans closer.
"It depends on what kind." The sugar mogul sits down. "I already have plenty, but excess is my game."
"Well you see, I'm an arms dealer." He glances around to make sure no one is watching, and he then pulls open his coat and you see lining the insides of it are many different arms. Muscular arms, skinny arms, clawed arms, green arms, hairy arms, robotical arms, and more. "I have here some mighty fine ingredients for many different witches brews. Troll fingers can be hard to come by, and these ones are still wriggling, and this here arm has the broken fingers of a murderer, great for all sorts of dark concoctions." He looks over at you, his golden teeth gleaming in his grin, " See any that catches your fancy?"
Pastel rubs his chin. "Any red dragon or similar cousins?"
"Hmm...." He surveys his assortment of dismembered appendages, " Does red dragonborn count? I also have a gold dragon's left forearm, would that work?"
"Gold would be excellent. They don't have quite the same heat to them, but they have a flash value that is difficult to ignore."
"You are certainly right, " he pulls the hulking, golden arm of the dragon out and slides it under the table to you, trying to be discreet. " Take this one for free as payment for the cake."
“What’s with all the racket? Death, why are you shouting at this person? It is not yet their time.”
I AM NOT SHOUTING, THIS IS JUST HOW MY VOICE IS. he booms. His voice echoes in your mind without bothering to pass through the vibrations of the air. I AM.... OFF DUTY AT THE MOMENT, I WILL NOT BE SWEEPING AWAY ANYONE'S SOUL UNLESS THEY DIE HERE. AND BESIDES, WHO ARE YOU TO SAY WHEN IT IS SOMEONE'S TIME?
“What’s with all the racket? Death, why are you shouting at this person? It is not yet their time.”
I AM NOT SHOUTING, THIS IS JUST HOW MY VOICE IS. he booms, his voice echoes in your mind without bothering to pass through the vibrations of the air. I AM.... OF DUTY AT THE MOMENT, I WILL NOT BE SWEEPING AWAY ANYONE'S SOUL UNLESS THEY DIE HERE. AND BESIDES, WHO ARE YOU TO SAY WHEN IT IS SOMEONE'S TIME?
Joshua does the same, but three time as loud. “WHY MUST YOU BE SO RUDE? IS IT ILLEGAL TO CAST SPELLS IN HERE? WHY HAVEN’T YOU SWEPT MY SOUL AWAY YET? SORRY FOR SO MANY QUESTIONS.”
“What’s with all the racket? Death, why are you shouting at this person? It is not yet their time.”
I AM NOT SHOUTING, THIS IS JUST HOW MY VOICE IS. he booms, his voice echoes in your mind without bothering to pass through the vibrations of the air. I AM.... OF DUTY AT THE MOMENT, I WILL NOT BE SWEEPING AWAY ANYONE'S SOUL UNLESS THEY DIE HERE. AND BESIDES, WHO ARE YOU TO SAY WHEN IT IS SOMEONE'S TIME?
Joshua does the same, but three time as loud. “WHY MUST YOU BE SO RUDE? IS IT ILLEGAL TO CAST SPELLS IN HERE? WHY HAVEN’T YOU SWEPT MY SOUL AWAY YET? SORRY FOR SO MANY QUESTIONS.”
The Grim Sweeper remains calm. I DID NOT INTEND TO COME OFF AS RUDE. I WAS SIMPLY TRYING TO START A CONVERSATION. I HAVE NOT YET SWEPT YOUR SOUL AWAY BECAUSE YOU STILL HAVE SAND IN YOUR HOURGLASS. SORRY, BUT WHO ARE YOU?
“What’s with all the racket? Death, why are you shouting at this person? It is not yet their time.”
I AM NOT SHOUTING, THIS IS JUST HOW MY VOICE IS. he booms, his voice echoes in your mind without bothering to pass through the vibrations of the air. I AM.... OF DUTY AT THE MOMENT, I WILL NOT BE SWEEPING AWAY ANYONE'S SOUL UNLESS THEY DIE HERE. AND BESIDES, WHO ARE YOU TO SAY WHEN IT IS SOMEONE'S TIME?
Joshua does the same, but three time as loud. “WHY MUST YOU BE SO RUDE? IS IT ILLEGAL TO CAST SPELLS IN HERE? WHY HAVEN’T YOU SWEPT MY SOUL AWAY YET? SORRY FOR SO MANY QUESTIONS.”
The Grim Sweeper remains calm. I DID NOT INTEND TO COME OFF AS RUDE. I WAS SIMPLY TRYING TO START A CONVERSATION. I HAVE NOT YET SWEPT YOUR SOUL AWAY BECAUSE YOU STILL HAVE SAND IN YOUR HOURGLASS. SORRY, BUT WHO ARE YOU?
He says this much quieter: “I am one of the souls you forgot, that you left behind.” Joshua puts out his hand to grab a glass from a table, and his hand passes straight through it. Upon looking at Joshua again, you can see he is somewhat transparent. “Why did you leave me? Why am I not ready? My body is six feet under, but my feet will never touch the ground.”
He looks back calmly. "Myself," he says. "Who are you?"
remember that my PMs are always open to anyone who needs someone to talk to, vent to, or just shout at, and i'll always respond relatively quickly
The Younger Twin (by ten minutes)
waitin on ya, ella
"Well you see, I'm an arms dealer." He glances around to make sure no one is watching, and he then pulls open his coat and you see lining the insides of it are many different arms. Muscular arms, skinny arms, clawed arms, green arms, hairy arms, robotical arms, and more. "I have here some mighty fine ingredients for many different witches brews. Troll fingers can be hard to come by, and these ones are still wriggling, and this here arm has the broken fingers of a murderer, great for all sorts of dark concoctions." He looks over at you, his golden teeth gleaming in his grin, " See any that catches your fancy?"
I AM DEATH. ISN'T TALKING TO ONE'S SELF CONSIDERED A SIGN OF MADNESS?
Pastel rubs his chin. "Any red dragon or similar cousins?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*Time split time*
Uncle Pastel looks a bit self-conscious as he feels his own sharp teeth with his tongue. He still smiles, but the excitement seems to be diminished.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
"Hmm...." He surveys his assortment of dismembered appendages, " Does red dragonborn count? I also have a gold dragon's left forearm, would that work?"
"Gold would be excellent. They don't have quite the same heat to them, but they have a flash value that is difficult to ignore."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
"You are certainly right, " he pulls the hulking, golden arm of the dragon out and slides it under the table to you, trying to be discreet. " Take this one for free as payment for the cake."
Furshii thinks for a moment. "Yes, I suppose it could be."
remember that my PMs are always open to anyone who needs someone to talk to, vent to, or just shout at, and i'll always respond relatively quickly
The Younger Twin (by ten minutes)
waitin on ya, ella
STRANGE. WHY WERE YOU TALKING TO YOURSELF? WHAT DID YOU NEED TO HEAR INSTEAD OF THINK IN ORDER TO COMPREHEND?
"Nothing. I was just trying to understand a spell, and me talking just makes it easier to understand, strangely."
remember that my PMs are always open to anyone who needs someone to talk to, vent to, or just shout at, and i'll always respond relatively quickly
The Younger Twin (by ten minutes)
waitin on ya, ella
INTERESTING. WHAT SPELL WERE YOU TRYING TO CAST?
"I wasn't trying to cast anything."
remember that my PMs are always open to anyone who needs someone to talk to, vent to, or just shout at, and i'll always respond relatively quickly
The Younger Twin (by ten minutes)
waitin on ya, ella
WHAT SPELL WERE YOU TRYING TO UNDERSTAND?
Joshua floats over to the commotion.
“What’s with all the racket? Death, why are you shouting at this person? It is not yet their time.”
I’m Purplyte. Silly little weirdo.
𝐷𝑂𝑁𝑇 𝑀𝐼𝑁𝐷 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐹𝑂𝑁𝑇.
𝐴𝐿𝑊𝐴𝑌𝑆 𝐵𝑂𝑅𝐸𝐷
𝐹𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑎 𝑃𝑀. 𝑂𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑙𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑅𝑃!
I AM NOT SHOUTING, THIS IS JUST HOW MY VOICE IS. he booms. His voice echoes in your mind without bothering to pass through the vibrations of the air. I AM.... OFF DUTY AT THE MOMENT, I WILL NOT BE SWEEPING AWAY ANYONE'S SOUL UNLESS THEY DIE HERE. AND BESIDES, WHO ARE YOU TO SAY WHEN IT IS SOMEONE'S TIME?
Joshua does the same, but three time as loud. “WHY MUST YOU BE SO RUDE? IS IT ILLEGAL TO CAST SPELLS IN HERE? WHY HAVEN’T YOU SWEPT MY SOUL AWAY YET? SORRY FOR SO MANY QUESTIONS.”
I’m Purplyte. Silly little weirdo.
𝐷𝑂𝑁𝑇 𝑀𝐼𝑁𝐷 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐹𝑂𝑁𝑇.
𝐴𝐿𝑊𝐴𝑌𝑆 𝐵𝑂𝑅𝐸𝐷
𝐹𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑎 𝑃𝑀. 𝑂𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑙𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑅𝑃!
The Grim Sweeper remains calm. I DID NOT INTEND TO COME OFF AS RUDE. I WAS SIMPLY TRYING TO START A CONVERSATION. I HAVE NOT YET SWEPT YOUR SOUL AWAY BECAUSE YOU STILL HAVE SAND IN YOUR HOURGLASS. SORRY, BUT WHO ARE YOU?
He says this much quieter: “I am one of the souls you forgot, that you left behind.”
Joshua puts out his hand to grab a glass from a table, and his hand passes straight through it. Upon looking at Joshua again, you can see he is somewhat transparent. “Why did you leave me? Why am I not ready? My body is six feet under, but my feet will never touch the ground.”
I’m Purplyte. Silly little weirdo.
𝐷𝑂𝑁𝑇 𝑀𝐼𝑁𝐷 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐹𝑂𝑁𝑇.
𝐴𝐿𝑊𝐴𝑌𝑆 𝐵𝑂𝑅𝐸𝐷
𝐹𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑎 𝑃𝑀. 𝑂𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑙𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑅𝑃!