(I'm guessing he's whittling outside instead of getting woodchips on Kinsley's floor?)
Someone silently moves into view. It's a lizardfolk dressed in Venetian carnival colors, all oranges and golds and reds, stained and caked with mud and gore. He wears a rusted, dented helmet that covers his eyes completely, with no eye slit or holes in the visor. His mouth remains uncovered, and on his back are two old swords, in equally poor repair as the rest of his kit.
He doesn't seem to notice Lazarus at first, but with the next swipe of the knife he freezes in place, listening closely.
"You alright, sir?" The vampire asks, unamused
*Indeed*
"Mostly." The reptile responds. He speaks clearly, instead of the typical hissing and growling most Lizardfolk include in their speech. "Do you know where this is? I smelled food, but I doubt I can handle a fight in this sorry state."
"Mostly." The reptile responds. He speaks clearly, instead of the typical hissing and growling most Lizardfolk include in their speech. "Do you know where this is? I smelled food, but I doubt I can handle a fight in this sorry state."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
*(implodes)*
What was here is now gone.
*(rizzes you up)*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
*(Dies due to lethal amounts of rizz in my bloodstream)*
What was here is now gone.
*helo*
she/her since june 2025
fat scored off bone, hope singed from soul, blood drained from heart. now EAT, and relish that crunch of the viscera that you have made of me.