"Yes, I do believe that is in order. Don't worry, I'll send you back if you fail to meet my standards, but I'm sure I can find a use for you. Now, as for the bill..." He pulls out a stack of bills and places about 20 cybucks on the counter. "Don't expect a tip for your service."
Taylor snatches them up and gives a sickly sweet smiles "Have a good day honey, thank you so much for your service!"
"Silence." He begins to walk away. "Come along now. We need to test your abilities, main dish."
The rat thing follows silently for moment before speaking up, albeit quietly "T-thank you."
A couple of them fire back, and a bullet grazes Evan's arm. However, it isn't long before the pack has been broken up- many have fled whilst the bodies of their kin scatter the tracks. On closer inspection, they were indeed human, and looked like they hadn't seen civilisation in a long time, maybe ever.
"Well $h!t... thought they were somethin' else..."
An electric guitar riff blasts through the tunnels, an unbearable heat riding on the tidal wave of sound. As it falls silent, a voice begins to sing.
"Run and hide in darkness..."
Actual music begins to play.
"Run and hide, hide! Can't deny my calling now! Your secrets Bleeding trails of bodies, By design, oh!"
The source walks out of the tunnel. Another stoatfolk, but this one is dressed in a mix of classic Southern and punk rocker style, with a black leather duster with blue and gold flame designs, a cowboy hat and boots, and fingerless gloves for playing his fork-shaped electric guitar. He has one eye with a golden iris, while his other remains closed. A wide, dagger-toothed grin is spread across his face.
"Just a remnant that won't save you twice!"
The Starving Sovereign. The Lunch Lord. Atticus Gorta.
"I told you! I'll always come back for you! Never was an act so cruel! Wouldn't you know?"
An ancient force of destruction and change. He arrives every five hundred years, and always tips the scales in his favor. His gender, species, and even personality alter every incarnation, but one thing is always the same.
An electric guitar riff blasts through the tunnels, an unbearable heat riding on the tidal wave of sound. As it falls silent, a voice begins to sing.
"Run and hide in darkness..."
Actual music begins to play.
"Run and hide, hide! Can't deny my calling now! Your secrets Bleeding trails of bodies, By design, oh!"
The source walks out of the tunnel. Another stoatfolk, but this one is dressed in a mix of classic Southern and punk rocker style, with a black leather duster with blue and gold flame designs, a cowboy hat and boots, and fingerless gloves for playing his fork-shaped electric guitar. He has one eye with a golden iris, while his other remains closed. A wide, dagger-toothed grin is spread across his face.
"Just a remnant that won't save you twice!"
The Starving Sovereign. The Lunch Lord. Atticus Gorta.
"I told you! I'll always come back for you! Never was an act so cruel! Wouldn't you know?"
An ancient force of destruction and change. He arrives every five hundred years, and always tips the scales in his favor. His gender, species, and even personality alter every incarnation, but one thing is always the same.
"We're trapped inside a tomb!"
It's going to hurt.
Something ancient watches him, like a guardian angel watching over its target. Eyes feel like they are everywhere, buried in the cracks of stone, peeking out from the rotten flesh of corpses, dotting the mildew stained walls, everywhere. Rabbit-like motifs of a smiling cartoon rabbit graffiti the walls, colors of red, green, and dark purple staining the stone.
Something ancient watches him, like a guardian angel watching over its target. Eyes feel like they are everywhere, buried in the cracks of stone, peeking out from the rotten flesh of corpses, dotting the mildew stained walls, everywhere. Rabbit-like motifs of a smiling cartoon rabbit graffiti the walls, colors of red, green, and dark purple staining the stone.
Atticus takes a deep breath, his flames dying down. "How you feeling?"
Something ancient watches him, like a guardian angel watching over its target. Eyes feel like they are everywhere, buried in the cracks of stone, peeking out from the rotten flesh of corpses, dotting the mildew stained walls, everywhere. Rabbit-like motifs of a smiling cartoon rabbit graffiti the walls, colors of red, green, and dark purple staining the stone.
Atticus takes a deep breath, his flames dying down. "How you feeling?"
Nothing replies but a rabbit-like entity, strands of sinew and such connecting to the walls, through the cracks, steps towards them. It's pie-cut eyes don't like normal, like there are eyes behind them watching.
Something ancient watches him, like a guardian angel watching over its target. Eyes feel like they are everywhere, buried in the cracks of stone, peeking out from the rotten flesh of corpses, dotting the mildew stained walls, everywhere. Rabbit-like motifs of a smiling cartoon rabbit graffiti the walls, colors of red, green, and dark purple staining the stone.
Atticus takes a deep breath, his flames dying down. "How you feeling?"
Nothing replies but a rabbit-like entity, strands of sinew and such connecting to the walls, through the cracks, steps towards them. It's pie-cut eyes don't like normal, like there are eyes behind them watching.
Atticus takes a deep breath, his flames dying down. "How you feeling?"
Nothing replies but a rabbit-like entity, strands of sinew and such connecting to the walls, through the cracks, steps towards them. It's pie-cut eyes don't like normal, like there are eyes behind them watching.
Atticus takes a deep breath, his flames dying down. "How you feeling?"
Nothing replies but a rabbit-like entity, strands of sinew and such connecting to the walls, through the cracks, steps towards them. It's pie-cut eyes don't like normal, like there are eyes behind them watching.
There appear to be some people on the deck below, asleep
You guys are awesome and mean so much to me. And mean so much to each other.
βNo, Iβm a rat exterminator.β
Your local friendly stupid doop!
Professional idiot! Trans! Pansexual pancake! I am a minor so you will do none of that (GP) with me! I use He/They pronouns :3
Extended Signature!
βOoh, cool!β
Your local friendly stupid doop!
Professional idiot! Trans! Pansexual pancake! I am a minor so you will do none of that (GP) with me! I use He/They pronouns :3
Extended Signature!
'Don't shoot. I got a gun, and there's more of us than there are of you'
You guys are awesome and mean so much to me. And mean so much to each other.
The rat thing follows silently for moment before speaking up, albeit quietly "T-thank you."
πΎππ₯ π₯ππ π₯π π‘ π€ππππ, ππ π¦πππ π£π πππ€, π‘π π¦π£ π₯ππ π€ππ π₯ππ
π'π§π πππ€π€ππ π₯ππ π₯π¦ππ π π π₯π¦πππππ£π€ ππππππππ
π»πππ ππ ππ, ππππ π₯ππ π€ππ π¦π‘ π ππ π₯ππ
π»ππ§πππ ππ π’π¦ππππ€πππ'π€ πππ€π₯ππ£ π₯πππ π€ππππππ
"Well $h!t... thought they were somethin' else..."
Sig but long ^w^
Gulpmissle Day, Saturday, Feburay 15th, 2025
'Naner Day, Tuesday, March 3rd, 2026
ππ€ππ€ π©·ππ
Salem has dubbed me Fellow Pancake of The Fox.
Henlo, I am a pan, NB, chaotic ADHD mess of a furry.
I am also a eepy eeper, who likes WoF, WC, and fire.
'Hunters work alone. I'd know, I'm one'
You guys are awesome and mean so much to me. And mean so much to each other.
An electric guitar riff blasts through the tunnels, an unbearable heat riding on the tidal wave of sound. As it falls silent, a voice begins to sing.
"Run and hide in darkness..."
Actual music begins to play.
"Run and hide, hide!
Can't deny my calling now!
Your secrets
Bleeding trails of bodies,
By design, oh!"
The source walks out of the tunnel. Another stoatfolk, but this one is dressed in a mix of classic Southern and punk rocker style, with a black leather duster with blue and gold flame designs, a cowboy hat and boots, and fingerless gloves for playing his fork-shaped electric guitar. He has one eye with a golden iris, while his other remains closed. A wide, dagger-toothed grin is spread across his face.
"Just a remnant that won't save you twice!"
The Starving Sovereign. The Lunch Lord. Atticus Gorta.
"I told you!
I'll always come back for you!
Never was an act so cruel!
Wouldn't you know?"
An ancient force of destruction and change. He arrives every five hundred years, and always tips the scales in his favor. His gender, species, and even personality alter every incarnation, but one thing is always the same.
"We're trapped inside a tomb!"
It's going to hurt.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
"You're welcome. You can follow complex recipes, correct?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
He nods "My name is Raymond.." he says
πΎππ₯ π₯ππ π₯π π‘ π€ππππ, ππ π¦πππ π£π πππ€, π‘π π¦π£ π₯ππ π€ππ π₯ππ
π'π§π πππ€π€ππ π₯ππ π₯π¦ππ π π π₯π¦πππππ£π€ ππππππππ
π»πππ ππ ππ, ππππ π₯ππ π€ππ π¦π‘ π ππ π₯ππ
π»ππ§πππ ππ π’π¦ππππ€πππ'π€ πππ€π₯ππ£ π₯πππ π€ππππππ
"Well, Raymond, it's time to test your mettle." He opens the door to his centipede construct. "Have you ever made cioppino?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
Something ancient watches him, like a guardian angel watching over its target. Eyes feel like they are everywhere, buried in the cracks of stone, peeking out from the rotten flesh of corpses, dotting the mildew stained walls, everywhere. Rabbit-like motifs of a smiling cartoon rabbit graffiti the walls, colors of red, green, and dark purple staining the stone.
πΎππ₯ π₯ππ π₯π π‘ π€ππππ, ππ π¦πππ π£π πππ€, π‘π π¦π£ π₯ππ π€ππ π₯ππ
π'π§π πππ€π€ππ π₯ππ π₯π¦ππ π π π₯π¦πππππ£π€ ππππππππ
π»πππ ππ ππ, ππππ π₯ππ π€ππ π¦π‘ π ππ π₯ππ
π»ππ§πππ ππ π’π¦ππππ€πππ'π€ πππ€π₯ππ£ π₯πππ π€ππππππ
"I-I know what it is sir but I don't know how to make it."
πΎππ₯ π₯ππ π₯π π‘ π€ππππ, ππ π¦πππ π£π πππ€, π‘π π¦π£ π₯ππ π€ππ π₯ππ
π'π§π πππ€π€ππ π₯ππ π₯π¦ππ π π π₯π¦πππππ£π€ ππππππππ
π»πππ ππ ππ, ππππ π₯ππ π€ππ π¦π‘ π ππ π₯ππ
π»ππ§πππ ππ π’π¦ππππ€πππ'π€ πππ€π₯ππ£ π₯πππ π€ππππππ
Atticus takes a deep breath, his flames dying down. "How you feeling?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
"You'll find a recipe card and ingredients inside. I expect it to be tolerable on your first attempt. Now cook." He gestures toward the kitchen.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
Nothing replies but a rabbit-like entity, strands of sinew and such connecting to the walls, through the cracks, steps towards them. It's pie-cut eyes don't like normal, like there are eyes behind them watching.
πΎππ₯ π₯ππ π₯π π‘ π€ππππ, ππ π¦πππ π£π πππ€, π‘π π¦π£ π₯ππ π€ππ π₯ππ
π'π§π πππ€π€ππ π₯ππ π₯π¦ππ π π π₯π¦πππππ£π€ ππππππππ
π»πππ ππ ππ, ππππ π₯ππ π€ππ π¦π‘ π ππ π₯ππ
π»ππ§πππ ππ π’π¦ππππ€πππ'π€ πππ€π₯ππ£ π₯πππ π€ππππππ
Nothing replies but a rabbit-like entity, strands of sinew and such connecting to the walls, through the cracks, steps towards them. It's pie-cut eyes don't like normal, like there are eyes behind them watching.
πΎππ₯ π₯ππ π₯π π‘ π€ππππ, ππ π¦πππ π£π πππ€, π‘π π¦π£ π₯ππ π€ππ π₯ππ
π'π§π πππ€π€ππ π₯ππ π₯π¦ππ π π π₯π¦πππππ£π€ ππππππππ
π»πππ ππ ππ, ππππ π₯ππ π€ππ π¦π‘ π ππ π₯ππ
π»ππ§πππ ππ π’π¦ππππ€πππ'π€ πππ€π₯ππ£ π₯πππ π€ππππππ
'Look, I'm not a threat, I'm on your side. Maybe I could help you get some kills, you get the credit of course'
You guys are awesome and mean so much to me. And mean so much to each other.
*How big is it?*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*8 feet and 6 inches*
πΎππ₯ π₯ππ π₯π π‘ π€ππππ, ππ π¦πππ π£π πππ€, π‘π π¦π£ π₯ππ π€ππ π₯ππ
π'π§π πππ€π€ππ π₯ππ π₯π¦ππ π π π₯π¦πππππ£π€ ππππππππ
π»πππ ππ ππ, ππππ π₯ππ π€ππ π¦π‘ π ππ π₯ππ
π»ππ§πππ ππ π’π¦ππππ€πππ'π€ πππ€π₯ππ£ π₯πππ π€ππππππ