*Perfect, time to use the character I specifically tailored for Thirteen.*
A man has entered the tavern, he is about 5'10 with stark white hair , grey eyes, and paler than normal skin. Very very light stitching is around his face and arms.
*fun times. also want to continue Honey’s shenanigans with the Bag?*
Thirteen looks up from his pocket orrery, its violet-and-yellow lights illuminating his face slightly.
*Sure!*
Honey is smoking, getting high while painting.
The person looks over at Thirteen, smiling slightly and going back to his drink.
Garty is just watching, kind of bored, while the Faceless Flesh is still trying to help however it can, holding up different colors for her at her necessity.
Thirteen watches this person with mild interest, snapping the last part of the frame into place, which finishes the arcane circuit that creates the illusory map of Wildspace.
She picks up Garty like a kitten and holds it her, purring happily.
He can see telltale signs of zombiehood, his eyes being slightly bloodshot, the white hair from dying hair cells, and corroding nails.
Garty has a slimy and discomforting texture, but it doesn’t object to being pet. “So uh, what kind of job did you want us to do? What kinds of stuff do you want us to collect for you?” Meanwhile, despite being, well, faceless, the Flesh seems to be almost jealous of the attention being lavished on its counterpart.
Having no real incentive to bother the fellow, Thirteen begins calibrating the orrery.
"Not really. I don't really like using people for jobs, especially ones I can do myself." She chuckles.
After a moment or two, he takes what appears to an unwitting woman outside, hunger painting his eyes but careful hidden on his expression.
"Well then why did you open our bag??" It inquires.
Now having something to worry about, Thirteen gets up and follows.
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.
*Felix is officially a pokemon. So how would you say he deals with his problems? Like, on a psychological level? I'm trying to come up with a power that fits him okay. Originally he was going to have Fermentation as his power since he bottled up his emotions and such, but that was an early concept that he's evolved beyond, I think. I need to work on his psychology, but I'm not sure where to start from while keeping him "Felix."*
The Baker is looking for the False, checking up on the spell. He has brought a Brookie with him.
*Maybe take one of this Myers Briggs personality for him?"
The Hunter is trying to berate the False into taking its own life and isn't trying to hide it. The False doesn't seem to be paying attention. It waves to the Baker as it senses him. After a moment, the Hunter stops.
The Baker smiles and nods, walking over. He deposits the Brookie into the False's hand and then produces a similar one to the Hunter "Fighting again?" He asks.
*Perfect, time to use the character I specifically tailored for Thirteen.*
A man has entered the tavern, he is about 5'10 with stark white hair , grey eyes, and paler than normal skin. Very very light stitching is around his face and arms.
*fun times. also want to continue Honey’s shenanigans with the Bag?*
Thirteen looks up from his pocket orrery, its violet-and-yellow lights illuminating his face slightly.
*Sure!*
Honey is smoking, getting high while painting.
The person looks over at Thirteen, smiling slightly and going back to his drink.
Garty is just watching, kind of bored, while the Faceless Flesh is still trying to help however it can, holding up different colors for her at her necessity.
Thirteen watches this person with mild interest, snapping the last part of the frame into place, which finishes the arcane circuit that creates the illusory map of Wildspace.
She picks up Garty like a kitten and holds it her, purring happily.
He can see telltale signs of zombiehood, his eyes being slightly bloodshot, the white hair from dying hair cells, and corroding nails.
Garty has a slimy and discomforting texture, but it doesn’t object to being pet. “So uh, what kind of job did you want us to do? What kinds of stuff do you want us to collect for you?” Meanwhile, despite being, well, faceless, the Flesh seems to be almost jealous of the attention being lavished on its counterpart.
Having no real incentive to bother the fellow, Thirteen begins calibrating the orrery.
"Not really. I don't really like using people for jobs, especially ones I can do myself." She chuckles.
After a moment or two, he takes what appears to an unwitting woman outside, hunger painting his eyes but careful hidden on his expression.
"Well then why did you open our bag??" It inquires.
Now having something to worry about, Thirteen gets up and follows.
She shrugs "I thought the bag was pretty so I wanted to see what was inside.
As he follows he hears what sounds like a muffled scream and then silence.
Isaac is disassembling an old grandfather clock outside
(I hate autocorrect with a passion)
Xan walks over, waving
He waves back “hey there”
Xan sits down "Whatcha doing?"
“Found this old clock on the side of the road. Doesn’t seem to work so I’m seeing what I can salvage from it”
"Huh, anything good?"
“Well I can always use more gears. Wood is to rotted to do anything with though”
"Hm, maybe you can like... A spring or something."
“What do you mean?”
"I don't know, I'm not an engineer "
He laughs and pats Xan’s back “I can tell”
Xan rolls his eyes, grumbling.
Isaac chuckles and lays down on the grass
Xan pets his hair
He rests his head on Xan’s legs
"You okay?"
He shakes his head “client expects results soon but the project is impossible”
"It's okay, they can wait if need be." Xan says
“Heh. Tell that to them”
Xan laughs lightly "Still."
“Hopefully they are in an understanding mood”
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
The Hunter is trying to berate the False into taking its own life and isn't trying to hide it. The False doesn't seem to be paying attention. It waves to the Baker as it senses him. After a moment, the Hunter stops.
The Baker smiles and nods, walking over. He deposits the Brookie into the False's hand and then produces a similar one to the Hunter "Fighting again?" He asks.
Hunter gives a mix between a sigh and a growl. "Look at this thing! It could kill us all! You may have saved me, but unless I stay close to this monster it's going to start setting up a hive and assimilating people."
False doesn't pay attention. It nibbles the brookie with worm-like tendrils coming out of the many holes in its face. "Thank you, sir mage. May I have your name?"
Isaac is disassembling an old grandfather clock outside
(I hate autocorrect with a passion)
Xan walks over, waving
He waves back “hey there”
Xan sits down "Whatcha doing?"
“Found this old clock on the side of the road. Doesn’t seem to work so I’m seeing what I can salvage from it”
"Huh, anything good?"
“Well I can always use more gears. Wood is to rotted to do anything with though”
"Hm, maybe you can like... A spring or something."
“What do you mean?”
"I don't know, I'm not an engineer "
He laughs and pats Xan’s back “I can tell”
Xan rolls his eyes, grumbling.
Isaac chuckles and lays down on the grass
Xan pets his hair
He rests his head on Xan’s legs
"You okay?"
He shakes his head “client expects results soon but the project is impossible”
"It's okay, they can wait if need be." Xan says
“Heh. Tell that to them”
Xan laughs lightly "Still."
“Hopefully they are in an understanding mood”
"Hopefully they will be." He chuckled
(pm?)
"you want to lay down?"
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
The Hunter is trying to berate the False into taking its own life and isn't trying to hide it. The False doesn't seem to be paying attention. It waves to the Baker as it senses him. After a moment, the Hunter stops.
The Baker smiles and nods, walking over. He deposits the Brookie into the False's hand and then produces a similar one to the Hunter "Fighting again?" He asks.
Hunter gives a mix between a sigh and a growl. "Look at this thing! It could kill us all! You may have saved me, but unless I stay close to this monster it's going to start setting up a hive and assimilating people."
False doesn't pay attention. It nibbles the brookie with worm-like tendrils coming out of the many holes in its face. "Thank you, sir mage. May I have your name?"
*Got ENFJ-T for Felix*
"You may call me Teddy. You are very polite, and I thank you for that." He says, smiling and nodding. He turns to The Hunter "Until he actually does something, I will take my chances. I am a betting man." He explains.
*Perfect, time to use the character I specifically tailored for Thirteen.*
A man has entered the tavern, he is about 5'10 with stark white hair , grey eyes, and paler than normal skin. Very very light stitching is around his face and arms.
*fun times. also want to continue Honey’s shenanigans with the Bag?*
Thirteen looks up from his pocket orrery, its violet-and-yellow lights illuminating his face slightly.
*Sure!*
Honey is smoking, getting high while painting.
The person looks over at Thirteen, smiling slightly and going back to his drink.
Garty is just watching, kind of bored, while the Faceless Flesh is still trying to help however it can, holding up different colors for her at her necessity.
Thirteen watches this person with mild interest, snapping the last part of the frame into place, which finishes the arcane circuit that creates the illusory map of Wildspace.
She picks up Garty like a kitten and holds it her, purring happily.
He can see telltale signs of zombiehood, his eyes being slightly bloodshot, the white hair from dying hair cells, and corroding nails.
Garty has a slimy and discomforting texture, but it doesn’t object to being pet. “So uh, what kind of job did you want us to do? What kinds of stuff do you want us to collect for you?” Meanwhile, despite being, well, faceless, the Flesh seems to be almost jealous of the attention being lavished on its counterpart.
Having no real incentive to bother the fellow, Thirteen begins calibrating the orrery.
"Not really. I don't really like using people for jobs, especially ones I can do myself." She chuckles.
After a moment or two, he takes what appears to an unwitting woman outside, hunger painting his eyes but careful hidden on his expression.
"Well then why did you open our bag??" It inquires.
Now having something to worry about, Thirteen gets up and follows.
She shrugs "I thought the bag was pretty so I wanted to see what was inside.
As he follows he hears what sounds like a muffled scream and then silence.
“Oh.” Garty looks disappointed.
Thirteen hurries to the location of the strange undead, taking out his flail.
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.
*Perfect, time to use the character I specifically tailored for Thirteen.*
A man has entered the tavern, he is about 5'10 with stark white hair , grey eyes, and paler than normal skin. Very very light stitching is around his face and arms.
*fun times. also want to continue Honey’s shenanigans with the Bag?*
Thirteen looks up from his pocket orrery, its violet-and-yellow lights illuminating his face slightly.
*Sure!*
Honey is smoking, getting high while painting.
The person looks over at Thirteen, smiling slightly and going back to his drink.
Garty is just watching, kind of bored, while the Faceless Flesh is still trying to help however it can, holding up different colors for her at her necessity.
Thirteen watches this person with mild interest, snapping the last part of the frame into place, which finishes the arcane circuit that creates the illusory map of Wildspace.
She picks up Garty like a kitten and holds it her, purring happily.
He can see telltale signs of zombiehood, his eyes being slightly bloodshot, the white hair from dying hair cells, and corroding nails.
Garty has a slimy and discomforting texture, but it doesn’t object to being pet. “So uh, what kind of job did you want us to do? What kinds of stuff do you want us to collect for you?” Meanwhile, despite being, well, faceless, the Flesh seems to be almost jealous of the attention being lavished on its counterpart.
Having no real incentive to bother the fellow, Thirteen begins calibrating the orrery.
"Not really. I don't really like using people for jobs, especially ones I can do myself." She chuckles.
After a moment or two, he takes what appears to an unwitting woman outside, hunger painting his eyes but careful hidden on his expression.
"Well then why did you open our bag??" It inquires.
Now having something to worry about, Thirteen gets up and follows.
She shrugs "I thought the bag was pretty so I wanted to see what was inside.
As he follows he hears what sounds like a muffled scream and then silence.
“Oh.” Garty looks disappointed.
Thirteen hurries to the location of the strange undead, taking out his flail.
"Oh dear, I'm sorry." She said, hugging him "I-I don't know."
The man walks back down the alley, smiling "Hey there Necromancer."
Isaac is disassembling an old grandfather clock outside
(I hate autocorrect with a passion)
Xan walks over, waving
He waves back “hey there”
Xan sits down "Whatcha doing?"
“Found this old clock on the side of the road. Doesn’t seem to work so I’m seeing what I can salvage from it”
"Huh, anything good?"
“Well I can always use more gears. Wood is to rotted to do anything with though”
"Hm, maybe you can like... A spring or something."
“What do you mean?”
"I don't know, I'm not an engineer "
He laughs and pats Xan’s back “I can tell”
Xan rolls his eyes, grumbling.
Isaac chuckles and lays down on the grass
Xan pets his hair
He rests his head on Xan’s legs
"You okay?"
He shakes his head “client expects results soon but the project is impossible”
"It's okay, they can wait if need be." Xan says
“Heh. Tell that to them”
Xan laughs lightly "Still."
“Hopefully they are in an understanding mood”
"Hopefully they will be." He chuckled
(pm?)
"you want to lay down?"
"Sure" He picks him up.
“Hey!”
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
Hunter gives a mix between a sigh and a growl. "Look at this thing! It could kill us all! You may have saved me, but unless I stay close to this monster it's going to start setting up a hive and assimilating people."
False doesn't pay attention. It nibbles the brookie with worm-like tendrils coming out of the many holes in its face. "Thank you, sir mage. May I have your name?"
*Got ENFJ-T for Felix*
"You may call me Teddy. You are very polite, and I thank you for that." He says, smiling and nodding. He turns to The Hunter "Until he actually does something, I will take my chances. I am a betting man." He explains.
*Noice.*
"But that's how they get you! That's literally their entire tactic! They make you complacent and calm around something that will eat you and make a perfect copy!"
False looks over for once. "He's right. That is our species' primary tactic in the few cases when they get to my age. They do tend to leave close friends alive, though, to act as truly humanoid minions, something to reference while making more Sporespawn. But I'm not very interested in making a Hive. It won't help anyone, least of all me."
*Perfect, time to use the character I specifically tailored for Thirteen.*
A man has entered the tavern, he is about 5'10 with stark white hair , grey eyes, and paler than normal skin. Very very light stitching is around his face and arms.
*fun times. also want to continue Honey’s shenanigans with the Bag?*
Thirteen looks up from his pocket orrery, its violet-and-yellow lights illuminating his face slightly.
*Sure!*
Honey is smoking, getting high while painting.
The person looks over at Thirteen, smiling slightly and going back to his drink.
Garty is just watching, kind of bored, while the Faceless Flesh is still trying to help however it can, holding up different colors for her at her necessity.
Thirteen watches this person with mild interest, snapping the last part of the frame into place, which finishes the arcane circuit that creates the illusory map of Wildspace.
She picks up Garty like a kitten and holds it her, purring happily.
He can see telltale signs of zombiehood, his eyes being slightly bloodshot, the white hair from dying hair cells, and corroding nails.
Garty has a slimy and discomforting texture, but it doesn’t object to being pet. “So uh, what kind of job did you want us to do? What kinds of stuff do you want us to collect for you?” Meanwhile, despite being, well, faceless, the Flesh seems to be almost jealous of the attention being lavished on its counterpart.
Having no real incentive to bother the fellow, Thirteen begins calibrating the orrery.
"Not really. I don't really like using people for jobs, especially ones I can do myself." She chuckles.
After a moment or two, he takes what appears to an unwitting woman outside, hunger painting his eyes but careful hidden on his expression.
"Well then why did you open our bag??" It inquires.
Now having something to worry about, Thirteen gets up and follows.
She shrugs "I thought the bag was pretty so I wanted to see what was inside.
As he follows he hears what sounds like a muffled scream and then silence.
“Oh.” Garty looks disappointed.
Thirteen hurries to the location of the strange undead, taking out his flail.
"Oh dear, I'm sorry." She said, hugging him "I-I don't know."
The man walks back down the alley, smiling "Hey there Necromancer."
“Nah, it’s good. Hey, maybe now I have a chance to go and exercise some free will!” It says cheerfully, and the Faceless Flesh nods in agreement with this statement.
“Who are you?!”
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.
"Well then why did you open our bag??" It inquires.
Now having something to worry about, Thirteen gets up and follows.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
The Baker smiles and nods, walking over. He deposits the Brookie into the False's hand and then produces a similar one to the Hunter "Fighting again?" He asks.
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
Xan laughs lightly "Still."
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 shrugs "I thought the bag was pretty so I wanted to see what was inside.
As he follows he hears what sounds like a muffled scream and then silence.
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
“Hopefully they are in an understanding mood”
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
"Hopefully they will be." He chuckled
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
Hunter gives a mix between a sigh and a growl. "Look at this thing! It could kill us all! You may have saved me, but unless I stay close to this monster it's going to start setting up a hive and assimilating people."
False doesn't pay attention. It nibbles the brookie with worm-like tendrils coming out of the many holes in its face. "Thank you, sir mage. May I have your name?"
*Got ENFJ-T for Felix*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
He lets out a squeak, "Who-!" He turns, looking at her, "O-oh, hello miss Yuri"
Tycho enters the tavern, grabbing napkins and wiping his face and hands off. He looks over at Scott, walking over and leaning on the back of the couch
(pm?)
"you want to lay down?"
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
"You may call me Teddy. You are very polite, and I thank you for that." He says, smiling and nodding. He turns to The Hunter "Until he actually does something, I will take my chances. I am a betting man." He explains.
*Noice.*
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.” Garty looks disappointed.
Thirteen hurries to the location of the strange undead, taking out his flail.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
She beams "Hi there Georgie!" She chirps.
Scott wakes up, a light sleeper, and looks up at them "Oh, uh, hi.."
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
"Sure" He picks him up.
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 dear, I'm sorry." She said, hugging him "I-I don't know."
The man walks back down the alley, smiling "Hey there Necromancer."
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
“Hey!”
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
"How are you?" He smiles happily
He smirks, "Evening sleepyhead"
"But that's how they get you! That's literally their entire tactic! They make you complacent and calm around something that will eat you and make a perfect copy!"
False looks over for once. "He's right. That is our species' primary tactic in the few cases when they get to my age. They do tend to leave close friends alive, though, to act as truly humanoid minions, something to reference while making more Sporespawn. But I'm not very interested in making a Hive. It won't help anyone, least of all me."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
"I am well, preparing for hybernation soon."
"Why are you watching me?"
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
“Nah, it’s good. Hey, maybe now I have a chance to go and exercise some free will!” It says cheerfully, and the Faceless Flesh nods in agreement with this statement.
“Who are you?!”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"Like squirrels?" He tilts his head
"Technically I just got here. But you look less freaked out when you sleep."