There be a post fer ye laddies.
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STATUS: @Lady Amalthea, does that mean every post is a Horocrux? 10 yrs ago
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@Lady Amalthea, does that mean every post is a Horocrux?
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"So I can't go to heaven or hell now since you have my soul, and although demons do this exact same thing, you aren't one. I'm borrowing your powers, and you want me to use these to punch others in the same situation as me... because?" Mat and Pitambara were now in a pub, each with a different drink in hand. In Mat's was a cheap beer, Pitambara had a glass of lemon water without any ice in it. It was still light out, so the atmosphere felt dark and a bit oppressive in comparison with the bright skies outside and the loud rock music playing made it difficult to even hear himself speak, let alone anybody else in here. Perhaps that's why the man across from the table picked this place.
"Well when you say it like that, it sounds like I'm the bad guy here." Pitambara was wearing a pair of shades that blocked the soft glow of his eyes. "Look, you didn't have to take the deal, and I already explained this a week ago when you were about to have your head irreparably caved in. If I could think of a better way to do this, I would have done it by now." Pitambara's fingers drummed against the glass of the cup, creating little cracks with each pass before repairing them almost instantly as if they were never there.
"I could barely think, let alone able to make binding contracts at the time. You know, if this were a legal contract it would be null and void, right?" Mat took a half-hearted sips of his beer and glanced at the mostly empty pub. There were a couple of daytime drunks, but otherwise it was just the staff and Mat and Pitambara.
"Yeah, well it isn't. Besides, at least I gave you the choice. Demons just take souls and selfishly hoard it to themselves for more power. If I knew how, I'd just give your soul back after we're done. What's important now is you learning to control my power."
"The fixing thing?" Mat asked a bit louder than he had been speaking before as a particularly obnoxious guitar solo started up on the speakers.
"Well, it's more complicated than that, but yes." Pitambara replied, his drumming now directed at the table, which created noticeable indentations into the cheap wood under his fingers before they miraculously filled back in. Either he was doing this on reflex, or he was just showing off. "Your arms are strong and fast now, but that ability allows you to be far more versatile than you could ever imagine. And you're going to need to know how to use it effectively if we're going to be taking down demons. Not all of them are giant pushovers like that cat we fought an hour ago. I need you, and you need me. After all, if I die, you'll get to feel every moment of it."
"I'm not going to say you've talked me into this, but I'll go along for now. Especially if you're going to follow me around. I can't exactly lock you out of my apartment. I'm not going to call you Pitambara though. So now you're going to be Barry."
"Fuck you." Barry said, briefly crushing the glass in his hand.
"Well when you say it like that, it sounds like I'm the bad guy here." Pitambara was wearing a pair of shades that blocked the soft glow of his eyes. "Look, you didn't have to take the deal, and I already explained this a week ago when you were about to have your head irreparably caved in. If I could think of a better way to do this, I would have done it by now." Pitambara's fingers drummed against the glass of the cup, creating little cracks with each pass before repairing them almost instantly as if they were never there.
"I could barely think, let alone able to make binding contracts at the time. You know, if this were a legal contract it would be null and void, right?" Mat took a half-hearted sips of his beer and glanced at the mostly empty pub. There were a couple of daytime drunks, but otherwise it was just the staff and Mat and Pitambara.
"Yeah, well it isn't. Besides, at least I gave you the choice. Demons just take souls and selfishly hoard it to themselves for more power. If I knew how, I'd just give your soul back after we're done. What's important now is you learning to control my power."
"The fixing thing?" Mat asked a bit louder than he had been speaking before as a particularly obnoxious guitar solo started up on the speakers.
"Well, it's more complicated than that, but yes." Pitambara replied, his drumming now directed at the table, which created noticeable indentations into the cheap wood under his fingers before they miraculously filled back in. Either he was doing this on reflex, or he was just showing off. "Your arms are strong and fast now, but that ability allows you to be far more versatile than you could ever imagine. And you're going to need to know how to use it effectively if we're going to be taking down demons. Not all of them are giant pushovers like that cat we fought an hour ago. I need you, and you need me. After all, if I die, you'll get to feel every moment of it."
"I'm not going to say you've talked me into this, but I'll go along for now. Especially if you're going to follow me around. I can't exactly lock you out of my apartment. I'm not going to call you Pitambara though. So now you're going to be Barry."
"Fuck you." Barry said, briefly crushing the glass in his hand.
Durin didn't actually comprehend that the gnome lady was talking to him. Sounds were coming out of her mouth, but they didn't really fit together to form words that communicated ideas. They just sat there in the air like clouds. Thus, like clouds, they flew right over his head. He was more concerned with finding his way to the elf-lady's shop. He hadn't been there but once and it wasn't the most stand-out building in this district, so he'd need to be vigilant if he was going to find it without passing it and getting lost.
The elf-lady's shop was a modest, but sizable building located in between the butchery and the bank, perhaps an intentional location choice on the part of the store owner. It would be a nondescript building constructed of wood and faded red brick had it not had a large anatomically correct heart painted above the door, with a sign posted in front labeled Kayleth's Hospital and Apothecary is flowery script that only an elf would use. It had a few superficial burns and was covered in a layer of ash, but otherwise looked untouched. Durin took one look at the building and spit some phlegm into the dirt before heading in.
The inside of the building smelled like a mix of blood, burning substances, sterile chemical, herbs and melted wax all mixed together in one amalgamation that hit the nose hard in such a way that it took several seconds of sustained thought to decipher just what the smell truly was. Behind the counter was the pale, gracefil, but tired looking elf who ran the store. Her hands past the wrist were covered with the stains of blood and her clothes had splatters of all sorts of human fluids on it. Despite this she managed to retain an air of near regalia and warm approachability. She glanced at Durin and Isabeau (assuming she enters the shop right after Durin) once before lifting up the small countertop and waving them to enter the room that lay behind.
"It's going to be a bit crowded," she said to them before she directed her attention downward (assuming Tirarrin is in the shop). "Are you injured too? Or are you merely ill? My stock of medicines for illnesses are still quite full. Perhaps some intestinal problems?"
The elf-lady's shop was a modest, but sizable building located in between the butchery and the bank, perhaps an intentional location choice on the part of the store owner. It would be a nondescript building constructed of wood and faded red brick had it not had a large anatomically correct heart painted above the door, with a sign posted in front labeled Kayleth's Hospital and Apothecary is flowery script that only an elf would use. It had a few superficial burns and was covered in a layer of ash, but otherwise looked untouched. Durin took one look at the building and spit some phlegm into the dirt before heading in.
The inside of the building smelled like a mix of blood, burning substances, sterile chemical, herbs and melted wax all mixed together in one amalgamation that hit the nose hard in such a way that it took several seconds of sustained thought to decipher just what the smell truly was. Behind the counter was the pale, gracefil, but tired looking elf who ran the store. Her hands past the wrist were covered with the stains of blood and her clothes had splatters of all sorts of human fluids on it. Despite this she managed to retain an air of near regalia and warm approachability. She glanced at Durin and Isabeau (assuming she enters the shop right after Durin) once before lifting up the small countertop and waving them to enter the room that lay behind.
"It's going to be a bit crowded," she said to them before she directed her attention downward (assuming Tirarrin is in the shop). "Are you injured too? Or are you merely ill? My stock of medicines for illnesses are still quite full. Perhaps some intestinal problems?"
When Lob left to retrieve the rabbits, Vaeri set off to gather some supplies she'd need of her own. To properly cook these rodents she would need a fire, and a fire required firewood. Thankfully, it was rather late and the weather had been sunny for several days, so finding dry wood was a simple task in a forest such as this. It took a mere 20 minutes to find what she estimated to be enough fire to last long enough to properly cook the hares. She found a clear spot near enough to the wagon and set up the wood in a clean circle.
From her bag, Vaeri retrieved a set of cooking utensils. They were used to only preparing food for herself, a large group such as this would take more time, but she was certain that once she got moving it would be smooth going. For this, she pulled out a pan, a set of stands that would allow it to safely rest right at the top of where she estimated the flames would reach, a small cooking knife she used for skinning animals she hunted and general purpose cooking and a small container of salt. She then pulled out a piece of flint and a steel fire starter. With 3 decisive strikes, Vaeri created enough sparks to catch the wood on fire. She gently blew into it to strengthen the fire, but soon enough it came to a healthy blaze that quickly warmed the iron pan above.
There she sat and tended to the fires until Lob returned with six rabbits in hand and maw. A smile on her face, the cleric stood up and clapped her hands before took the dead beasts from the half orc. She walked back to her little clearing and dropped their bodies next to the fire. She felt like she was stalling progress on making it back to the village, but really everyone here could use a rest after the day's events. Expertly, she cut up the little animals' bodies into easily eaten cuts that could be consumed by even the weak prisoners that were travelling in the wagon. She didn't have time or mental acuity to do anything particularly special with the meat, so she seared the meat in batches on the pan, salting them as she cooked. Each batch took about 5 to 10 minutes and there were 3 batches in total, within the half hour, the cooking was complete and the food was passed out to everyone present. Hopefully it would be worth the delay in travel and hold everyone until they could reach the village. With her job as chef complete, Vaeri put out the fire and put away her stuff back into her bag before taking part in the meal she had prepared.
From her bag, Vaeri retrieved a set of cooking utensils. They were used to only preparing food for herself, a large group such as this would take more time, but she was certain that once she got moving it would be smooth going. For this, she pulled out a pan, a set of stands that would allow it to safely rest right at the top of where she estimated the flames would reach, a small cooking knife she used for skinning animals she hunted and general purpose cooking and a small container of salt. She then pulled out a piece of flint and a steel fire starter. With 3 decisive strikes, Vaeri created enough sparks to catch the wood on fire. She gently blew into it to strengthen the fire, but soon enough it came to a healthy blaze that quickly warmed the iron pan above.
There she sat and tended to the fires until Lob returned with six rabbits in hand and maw. A smile on her face, the cleric stood up and clapped her hands before took the dead beasts from the half orc. She walked back to her little clearing and dropped their bodies next to the fire. She felt like she was stalling progress on making it back to the village, but really everyone here could use a rest after the day's events. Expertly, she cut up the little animals' bodies into easily eaten cuts that could be consumed by even the weak prisoners that were travelling in the wagon. She didn't have time or mental acuity to do anything particularly special with the meat, so she seared the meat in batches on the pan, salting them as she cooked. Each batch took about 5 to 10 minutes and there were 3 batches in total, within the half hour, the cooking was complete and the food was passed out to everyone present. Hopefully it would be worth the delay in travel and hold everyone until they could reach the village. With her job as chef complete, Vaeri put out the fire and put away her stuff back into her bag before taking part in the meal she had prepared.
I'm just kind of stuck at the moment.
She is.
Kind of related to the question, a few weeks back I saw the coolest thing that I forgot to tell anyone about. I was on my way home from visiting family when I looked out the window while passing a coal plant. You know those orange safety barrels that are the bigger, fatter version of safety cones? Well a bunch of those had been put together (I don't know how) into the shape of a giant monkey and it was hanging off the side of the plant like 3 stories into the air
I'm waiting for @IcePezz to post
I don't know how I'm supposed to respond to that picture.
@The Fated Fallen faffing about is a better term.
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