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[img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjEyOC5hMTc0MDAuVEhWamEzay4w/old-town.regular.webp[/img][/center]
[right][code]Present day
Interactions: Edwina, Liliana
Outfit: Leather coat (plus sword and buckler)[/code][/right][hr] 

Lucky snorted at the sheer audacity of the red tiefling. People are dying, and she has a problem with him standing a bit too close to the door? The hell did she know about helping people, anyway? He went out there and saved multiple lives by himself. All she did was stand on the roof and bark orders. Smoke pillowed out of his nostrils like some kind of feline-dragon hybrid, sending him bending over in a massive coughing fit. 

Once he managed to compose himself, he extended a claw on his index finger and pointed it in her face.

[color=a36209]"Listen here, Spooky, I don't know what in the God's name is yer problem, and I ain't fixin' to find out, but I can stand wherever the hell I want, ya fuckin' loony, fiddleheaded yellow-dog!"[/color] 

The incessant yapping from that irritating fox was giving him a headache. God's, how he hated that fox. He took a moment to sneer at it before continuing his tirade.

[color=a36209]"And yer fox? Don't squat with yer spurs on, Spooky, I wouldn't touch that nasty thing with a 10-foot pole! Ya'd better get a hold of that little varmint before it gets snatched up and someone passes it off as some fuckin' pork 'n beans!"[/color]

Their bickering was interrupted by the bard introducing herself. Lucky's voice softened as he addressed her. His tone wasn't kind in the slightest, but it was far closer to cold indifference than the poison he was spewing at the tiefling.

[color=a36209]"Howdy, the name's Bartholomew, but folks 'round here just call me Lucky. 

Oh, and by the way, I think yer a damn lousy picker. Ya outta drop that lute and pick up a real geetar."[/color]