Felix is back at the Lord's Rest Inn, not even singed from his battle with Apollon. He silently picks up a bucket and mop and begins to clean the kitchen.
There is someone at the counter, a mop over their shoulder, his eyes strange. The left pupil an X the right pupil a O, the eyes glowing, flames licking off of his body.
Felix puts down his mop, washes his handpaws, and hops up on a stool he placed by the counter so he can reach the guests. "Hello there, sir. My boss is out right now, but how may I serve you in the meantime?"
The guy looks down at Felix, his eyes tired and yet burning with power “Don’t call me sir. Just call me Benimaru, or Shinmon. Either one works, I just want a drink, doesn’t matter the kind.” He rolls his mop on his shoulder.
Felix is back at the Lord's Rest Inn, not even singed from his battle with Apollon. He silently picks up a bucket and mop and begins to clean the kitchen.
There is someone at the counter, a mop over their shoulder, his eyes strange. The left pupil an X the right pupil a O, the eyes glowing, flames licking off of his body.
Felix puts down his mop, washes his handpaws, and hops up on a stool he placed by the counter so he can reach the guests. "Hello there, sir. My boss is out right now, but how may I serve you in the meantime?"
The guy looks down at Felix, his eyes tired and yet burning with power “Don’t call me sir. Just call me Benimaru, or Shinmon. Either one works, I just want a drink, doesn’t matter the kind.” He rolls his mop on his shoulder.
"Sounds like you need a good rotgut, then." He deftly pours a grey, transparent drink from a bottle with three Xs on it but nothing else on the label. "Is something troubling you, Shinmon?"
Felix is back at the Lord's Rest Inn, not even singed from his battle with Apollon. He silently picks up a bucket and mop and begins to clean the kitchen.
There is someone at the counter, a mop over their shoulder, his eyes strange. The left pupil an X the right pupil a O, the eyes glowing, flames licking off of his body.
Felix puts down his mop, washes his handpaws, and hops up on a stool he placed by the counter so he can reach the guests. "Hello there, sir. My boss is out right now, but how may I serve you in the meantime?"
The guy looks down at Felix, his eyes tired and yet burning with power “Don’t call me sir. Just call me Benimaru, or Shinmon. Either one works, I just want a drink, doesn’t matter the kind.” He rolls his mop on his shoulder.
"Sounds like you need a good rotgut, then." He deftly pours a grey, transparent drink from a bottle with three Xs on it but nothing else on the label. "Is something troubling you, Shinmon?"
He takes the drink, looking into the bottle for a moment before drinking it down. He sighs “I am the strongest soldier in an army I don’t want to be a part of. I can’t leave because I’m the strongest, and the enemy we are fighting isn’t going to disappear ever.”
"Sounds like you need a good rotgut, then." He deftly pours a grey, transparent drink from a bottle with three Xs on it but nothing else on the label. "Is something troubling you, Shinmon?"
He takes the drink, looking into the bottle for a moment before drinking it down. He sighs “I am the strongest soldier in an army I don’t want to be a part of. I can’t leave because I’m the strongest, and the enemy we are fighting isn’t going to disappear ever.”
"Huh." He scratches his head, then passes the bottle, putting a couple coppers into the register. "Wish I could help, man. Just looking at you I can tell this is out of my league."
"Sounds like you need a good rotgut, then." He deftly pours a grey, transparent drink from a bottle with three Xs on it but nothing else on the label. "Is something troubling you, Shinmon?"
He takes the drink, looking into the bottle for a moment before drinking it down. He sighs “I am the strongest soldier in an army I don’t want to be a part of. I can’t leave because I’m the strongest, and the enemy we are fighting isn’t going to disappear ever.”
"Huh." He scratches his head, then passes the bottle, putting a couple coppers into the register. "Wish I could help, man. Just looking at you I can tell this is out of my league."
“I imagine you are. It’s nice to know that you care, but it doesn’t mean anything more at the end of the day.” The mop turns on fire, the flames not burning it, Benimaru’s eyes glowing.
"Huh." He scratches his head, then passes the bottle, putting a couple coppers into the register. "Wish I could help, man. Just looking at you I can tell this is out of my league."
“I imagine you are. It’s nice to know that you care, but it doesn’t mean anything more at the end of the day.” The mop turns on fire, the flames not burning it, Benimaru’s eyes glowing.
"Pyrokinetic, huh? I used to try and emulate pyrokinesis with magic, but I never had any good results. But that's probably a good thing. I've never really, like, learned a fighting trade, so they couldn't, like, draft me into the Honkachu Guard. But that's neither here nor there. You hungry, man?"
"Huh." He scratches his head, then passes the bottle, putting a couple coppers into the register. "Wish I could help, man. Just looking at you I can tell this is out of my league."
“I imagine you are. It’s nice to know that you care, but it doesn’t mean anything more at the end of the day.” The mop turns on fire, the flames not burning it, Benimaru’s eyes glowing.
"Pyrokinetic, huh? I used to try and emulate pyrokinesis with magic, but I never had any good results. But that's probably a good thing. I've never really, like, learned a fighting trade, so they couldn't, like, draft me into the Honkachu Guard. But that's neither here nor there. You hungry, man?"
"Huh." He scratches his head, then passes the bottle, putting a couple coppers into the register. "Wish I could help, man. Just looking at you I can tell this is out of my league."
“I imagine you are. It’s nice to know that you care, but it doesn’t mean anything more at the end of the day.” The mop turns on fire, the flames not burning it, Benimaru’s eyes glowing.
"Pyrokinetic, huh? I used to try and emulate pyrokinesis with magic, but I never had any good results. But that's probably a good thing. I've never really, like, learned a fighting trade, so they couldn't, like, draft me into the Honkachu Guard. But that's neither here nor there. You hungry, man?"
Thirteen is sitting cross-legged by the entrance to the inn, a porcelain teapot beside him, looking peaceful.
Mauric is making something with cabbage, rice, and mimic meat.
Klei is mulling over the previous night’s conversation.
*Oh no! Do you know what's causing it?*
Felix watches from the bar. He's curious, but he doesn't look excited despite it being his area of interest.
*Yeah. I screwed up my knee and my times have been terrible in the last two 5Ks I did. I hate being injured; it’s so frustrating when you know exactly what you need to do to succeed but your stupid body won’t let you.*
Mauric doesn’t notice him as he begins braising the mimic, which feebly shifts between a few different materials before turning back to meat.
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.
*I want to RP but I want to be a goblin for some reason and cause issues.*
(your normal rp then)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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
*I want to RP but I want to be a goblin for some reason and cause issues.*
(your normal rp then)
*>:0*
*I can't even be offended because you're right.*
(lol)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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
Felix watches from the bar. He's curious, but he doesn't look excited despite it being his area of interest.
*Yeah. I screwed up my knee and my times have been terrible in the last two 5Ks I did. I hate being injured; it’s so frustrating when you know exactly what you need to do to succeed but your stupid body won’t let you.*
Mauric doesn’t notice him as he begins braising the mimic, which feebly shifts between a few different materials before turning back to meat.
*Damn. I know the feeling, but I don't think it ever lasted more than a week for me, and even then it usually wasn't because of a physical injury.*
Felix sighs. "You know just how mimic meat works, don't you? Once people find out, they'll divine the recipe, try it, realize how good it is, put it in every magazine, and then no one will ever cook mimic differently again. Just like when you work with anything else. 'The epitome of cuisine,' my family calls you." He leans his chubby cheek against his fest as he swishes a glass of high-quality whiskey.
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
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The guy looks down at Felix, his eyes tired and yet burning with power “Don’t call me sir. Just call me Benimaru, or Shinmon. Either one works, I just want a drink, doesn’t matter the kind.” He rolls his mop on his shoulder.
"Sounds like you need a good rotgut, then." He deftly pours a grey, transparent drink from a bottle with three Xs on it but nothing else on the label. "Is something troubling you, Shinmon?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
He takes the drink, looking into the bottle for a moment before drinking it down. He sighs “I am the strongest soldier in an army I don’t want to be a part of. I can’t leave because I’m the strongest, and the enemy we are fighting isn’t going to disappear ever.”
"Huh." He scratches his head, then passes the bottle, putting a couple coppers into the register. "Wish I could help, man. Just looking at you I can tell this is out of my league."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
“I imagine you are. It’s nice to know that you care, but it doesn’t mean anything more at the end of the day.” The mop turns on fire, the flames not burning it, Benimaru’s eyes glowing.
"Pyrokinetic, huh? I used to try and emulate pyrokinesis with magic, but I never had any good results. But that's probably a good thing. I've never really, like, learned a fighting trade, so they couldn't, like, draft me into the Honkachu Guard. But that's neither here nor there. You hungry, man?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*I feel like crap*
Thirteen is sitting cross-legged by the entrance to the inn, a porcelain teapot beside him, looking peaceful.
Mauric is making something with cabbage, rice, and mimic meat.
Klei is mulling over the previous night’s conversation.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*Gtg, sorry.*
*All good! Bye!*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*Why does everyone want to boop The Pig.*
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
*Oh no! Do you know what's causing it?*
Felix watches from the bar. He's curious, but he doesn't look excited despite it being his area of interest.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*most likely because pig.*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*Yems*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*Yeah. I screwed up my knee and my times have been terrible in the last two 5Ks I did. I hate being injured; it’s so frustrating when you know exactly what you need to do to succeed but your stupid body won’t let you.*
Mauric doesn’t notice him as he begins braising the mimic, which feebly shifts between a few different materials before turning back to meat.
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 want to RP but I want to be a goblin for some reason and cause issues.*
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
(your normal rp then)
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
*>:0*
*I can't even be offended because you're right.*
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
(lol)
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
*Damn. I know the feeling, but I don't think it ever lasted more than a week for me, and even then it usually wasn't because of a physical injury.*
Felix sighs. "You know just how mimic meat works, don't you? Once people find out, they'll divine the recipe, try it, realize how good it is, put it in every magazine, and then no one will ever cook mimic differently again. Just like when you work with anything else. 'The epitome of cuisine,' my family calls you." He leans his chubby cheek against his fest as he swishes a glass of high-quality whiskey.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
(and I have nothing to make for dinner :< )
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