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[color=ff681f][b]Time:[/b][/color] Late Morning
[color=ff681f][b]Location:[/b][/color] The Nest, Roshmi City
[color=ff681f][b]Interaction:[/b][/color] [@princess] Mari, [@Alivefalling] Aerilyn, [@Apex Sunset] Scathael, [@Shining Sector] FIVE[hr]

More and more. Bit by bit. Thraash regained feeling. Initially, it was simply his fingers and toes, wriggling against the fading numbness. Momentarily, his entire body swayed against the floor while his limbs found strength. A low growl preceded a groan from his effort to push himself up.

The conflict seemed to have already been resolved but Thraash was feeling more ornery than ever. Once again, Mari’s silver tongue had saved their asses. It was always that or his Muze Box. Their talents were a wicked combination of separate art styles that collaborated strangely well in tandem. He had saved her smooth hide at the fort so this made them even… Then again, he was so close to being wasted in this trash heap of a bar. 

Thraash couldn’t help but grit his teeth as he established his balance upon standing up, his arms out to keep balance before his eyes met the visage of the warforged. As solid as he thought the metal man was, he couldn’t help but want to get another go at him. Poison was cheap. Sure, he could have easily been born with the same breath weapon as his mother, concentrated chlorine gas but… Who was he kidding, he’d use that shit because it was solid as fuck. To make your foes drop with a whiff of your toxic breath was something to admire. Still, Thraash was a poor sport at the moment. With his teeth still grit, he took a step toward the warforged, the two closer than what most would deem comfortable. He stared for several seconds before he let loose a scoff. 

[color=ff681f]“Dispell any hostility henceforth?”[/color] The dragonborn smirked as if to challenge the repeated words. [color=ff681f]“It’s a deal, warforged, but you gotta fix your fuckin’ voice box or somethin’. No offense to Mari but you sound like a haughty light elf with shit taste in music. Fix it.”[/color] Thraash shook his head rapidly in an effort to shake away the slight numbness he still felt before he picked up his axe from the floor. [color=ff681f]“If not then just… talk less if you can help it. Name’s Thraash. You probably already know it since you’re a dying fan…Hmph… [i]killing fan[/i] would fit better but…”[/color] Thraash leaned in a bit, closing the distance just a little more. [color=ff681f]“That’s passed huh? You’re part of our solid band of elite cutthroat hardcore killers. Fuckin’ rebels to the society around us. The leftovers. The fuckin’ ragers that ain’t gonna fuckin’ stop until we incinerate the system around us! You’re either solid or weak. And you. You’re solid as fuck, and I’m not talking about the steel for skin you got on your body.”[/color] He took a step back and turned to Mari. 

[color=ff681f]“Good shit, little light. You fucked up our parley with [i]Ears[/i] at the start but now we got a shockwave hammer-wielding bunny and a warforged that might be just as solid as I am."[/color]
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