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I'm alive! Sorry about that. This week has been a shit circus (updated from the usual show.) Between interviews, car collision places, car rentals, emergency family stuff, a lot of work, and trying to get a friend packed and moved out today due to an escalating situation... what is free time?

But I have tonight off... and then starting Saturday I should be good. Thanks for being patient with me, oh mighty Poo.

I liked number 2, but it looks like I'm in the minority. How dare.
Added a new scenario.

And apparently, no one has taste. Because I barely got anything. Insert rattling of coffee can with like a quarter in it. I wonder if it's the smell?
I was working on my post last night, and then my internet ate poop. Then I woke up this morning to find that someone rammed some interviews in on my calendar. So, I'm dealing with that. I hope to get a post out ASAP. Sorry, I thought I'd have more free time, but the weather has been killing my internet and I'm trying to get a better job that's less soul-sucking. If there is such a thing.

𝚁𝙴𝙲𝙾𝙶𝙽𝙸𝚉𝙴𝙳 – 𝚂𝙷𝙴 𝙳𝙴𝚅𝙸𝙻 – 𝚈-𝟷𝟸

The zeta tube announced and came to life shortly after flickering down from the previous guest. A large metal crate shot across the floor, the sound of scraping near-deafening in the hollowed-out walls of the base. It twirled for a moment before stopping. It was a massive luggage crate; numerous destination stickers littered its top—all in varying sorts of disarray. There seemed to be a plethora of ones from Australia, with a smatter of ones in different languages, and lastly were a handful of them from prominent airports across America. Following that case was a loud sigh and following that was a female figure.

Bex Minogue stood there, hand cradling her cellphone with its black diamond case. She brought it back to her ear after clicking the screen. “Yeah, I’m back. Anyway, like I was saying, Val is crazy if he thinks that little charade is going to work. I’m not a dimwitted ferret that’s impressed by shiny things, and flash mobs aren’t even a thing anymore.” Over her shoulder was a large black duffle bag accented in red that had “Gateway City Furies” printed on its front with the titular mascot. She shrugged it off and on top of her luggage. It was then that she looked around.

She dressed in a white bandeau top, with sleek white cargo pants, a military green bomber jacket hanging at her elbows, and pink doc marten boots on her feet. Her blonde hair was pulled up, braided away from her face, and fell like water down her back. Her undercut was on display, intricate patterns cut into it. She wore pink, round glasses with silver frames and earrings lacing up and down her lobes. Her fingernails weren’t long, but they were intricate, the detailing catching the light.

She caught Batman’s look, and her gaze passed her new “teammates.” “Yeah, I have to go. I’m here.” She paused. “Yes, Antidepressant Archipelago. Talk to you soon.” She clicked a button and slipped the phone into her pants.

“’ Sup nerds,” she said, stretching out, her bones softly popping. “So, I thought I was joining the Young Justice, not the Pre-Pubescent Party. But we can get that sorted out later. You guys continue back watching your ‘heroic PowerPoint’ and discussing who is stealing who’s lunch from the breakroom fridge.”

She turned back to Batman; her nose crinkled. “So, this is where you sit in the Justice League now? Babysitter of the Night. Babyman? I gotta say, Dude. It’s creepy. I thought there was like a robot or something to hold our hands in this waterpark.” She glanced around. “No one looks like a robot here. Wait. Scratch that. No one looks like a responsible robot.”

Bex extended a well-manicured nail at the girl with the sword at her side. “Because someone stole their daddy’s katana that he got specially made at a stall in the mall. And she might trip on it and break some of this expensive ass equipment.”

INTERACTION(S) | BATMAN
Howdy, champs! Welcome to my 1x1 thread. Below you'll find three ideas that I've been sitting on for a while. I'm not really looking for multiple players for both, but I don't think they'll be that popular. Anyway, a bit about me, and then we'll get into the good part.

  • I only play with 18+ partners as things may get spicy. Actually, to warn you now, I will have the expectation that they will get spicy. If that makes you uncomfortable, I totally understand, but I'm not the RPer for you.
  • I consider myself an advanced RPer, whatever stigma that may hold. That being said, I mean a lot of forethought, planning, and complex characters and world. I don't mean 1200+ words a post. Though, I don't turn my head at those. It just takes a lot of time for me to respond. That being said, this is a collaborative experience, and I expect that both sides will fully participate in world-building, plot whatnots, and the like.
  • So, to facilitate that communication, I ask that after the initial PM, we talk via discord. It's easier for me to access.
  • Also, please note, that if I'm noticing that things are NOT jiving between us, I may put a hard stop on the planning stage of the RP. Don't take it personally, I just know I'm not everyone's flavor. And I'm DEFINITELY not vanilla.
  • Last but not leastly, I'm not always around. I have a pretty demanding job. So, expect a post every other day to once a week. Depending on how we get on... it may be more frequent.

PM me if you are interested in either idea, letting me which one you'd like to play along with a bit about yourself and what you want to play. Without that, I'll ignore you. So, without further ado, here's the shit you're waiting for...





INSPIRED BY: No Man's Sky, Stars Without Number, Stardew Valley, and Raised by Wolves

The Star Blight came without warning or mention. The next thing that humanity knew, their suns were blinking out one by one across their colonized galaxies. Entire planets were bathed in darkness and became frozen and barren within moments. There was no way to escape it. Scientists scrambled to find a cure for the suns burning out, but they were without an idea. Instead, they decided to make a backup plan in the form of the Arks.

They are exactly what they sound like, massive ships sent out to the far reaches of the universe to find galaxies that haven't experienced the Sun Blight. They would be stocked with a mixture of genders, but anyone with female anatomy was impregnated before they were placed into cryo--in hopes to circumvent repetitive genetics or reproductive issues. Sent before these Arks would be Scout Ships that would come out of cryo ten years before to explore the planets and find the most suitable ones. There they would set up bases and small residential areas for the rest on the Arks. It was the best plan they could make as civilization folded in on itself around them.

An array of pods from the Delta Ark landed on the planet of Targus 8, following the Inhabitation Beacon that the Scouts before them set down. Each of the pods contains a male and a female and were to be scattered away from each other in case of unknown dangers. Our characters wake up on an exotic planet, a town in the distance. Yet, when they get their bearings and move towards it, they find it long since abandoned. There are clues as to what happened, but the direct cause is unknown. More so, they have to find shelter and food. What of the Scouts? What of the other pods? It seems so quiet on this planet. Too quiet.

WHAT I WANT: M x F; I don't mind what I play; this is slice-of-life(ish) with investigation and exploration elements; I would like characters in this RP that aren't perfect and gorgeous




INSPIRED BY: The Ascent, Shadowrun, Death Trash, and Cyberpunk 2077

Cosmic beings, that many called gods, gave the sapient creatures of the universe the ability to travel the stars at an infinite measure. Technology skyrocketed among the cosmos, and species of all sorts began to ascend. They colonized many planets, warred with each other, formed varying cultures and economies, and sought different answers among the stars. Yet, one thing was always constant, they all worshipped the gods that brought them into the stars.

Thousands of years after their first long trip into space things change. In the orbit of the massive planet Versa Tertia, the cosmic beings went to war with themselves--destroying themselves in the process. Their power erupted out from their dying bodies, destroying all known life except for Versa Tertia which was saved due to its proximity. Their cosmic corpses fell to the earth below, and with that, the world was terraformed against the will of its citizens. Thirteen mortals were given immortality from what would be called the Black Exodus. They would become the Architects, beings bringing the world back up. Technology would never reach the heights that it had been, but they would try their best.

Hundreds of years passed, and the Architects divided the planet into thirteen different divisions. Each of them ruled with varying states of competency. In the absence of the cosmic beings, another horror came to the planet of Versa Tertia, simply called demons. They promised the same power and protection that the old gods gave them. But their power came at the cost of lives. The Architects could not abide this, so they formed a united task force across the divisions called the Dead Light Paladins. They were given jurisdiction to root out demonic activities and possession.

Our story begins in 6785, on the planet of Versa Tertia in the Division of the architect Sweet Necromancy, called Hades Hightowers. There's a recent murmur that demonic rituals are going on in the Seventh Gigabuilding, a low-income residential area that isn't well regarded. Two Dead Light Paladins (DLPs) have been called to investigate.

WHAT I WANT: M/F/NB x M/F/NB; Characters can be human or alien; but the genre is cyberpunk with all the dressings; just add a smidge of cosmic horror.




INSPIRED BY: Paradise Killer, Disco Elysium, Vampire, and Paratopic

In the 1980s a biological virus rocketed across the Earth. Those afflicted were turned into immortal, undead monsters that became more feral the longer they were exposed to sunlight. The natural UV rays caused the virus to grow and multiply quicker and quicker. In the darkness, it became dormant, rendering these creatures (called revenants) static. To save their cities, massive domes were built to block out all the light and the revenants were dealt with before these domes expanded out and out until they covered the Earth.

Shortly thereafter, the Revenant Virus formed a rare mutation called the Lamia Variant. Those that were affected became immortal and undead, but they still kept their entire faculties. They did contain the speed, strength, and night vision of their revenant brethren. They remained somewhat human-looking and were given certain abilities that varied in individuals based on their genetics. Unlike the revenants, they could feast on blood instead of flesh. As the governments and military crumbled around the world, they came into power through wealth by outliving every CEO in every large corporation.

A thousand years passed, and this was just how the new world was. A dark cyberpunk dystopia that was ruled by the powerful blood-sucking lamia. Sadly enough, they were far fairer than any politician ever was. About a hundred years ago, one of the pharmaceutical companies found a cure for the revenant variant. Unfortunately, the revenants were too far gone for it to do any good, but it was a way to stabilize the lamias and return them to life. A war raged as each lamia corpo runner tried to outfox each other to become the only immortal in the game. The war ended about twenty years ago when the cure was viewed as a "terroristic act" to use on the lamia against their will. They could get it voluntary, though. These ex-lamia would be called necromancers, as they still contained some of the leftover abilities of their previous lives.

Richter Volkov is a necromancer, and the ex-leader of the Blood Judges, a lamia-run enforcement group that upholds the corpo way and suppresses the rebels and outliers. About ten years ago, he took the lamia cure for reasons that were unknown. He settled into a nice but cramped flat in Paradise City overseen by a variety of corpos. There he took a job with the mortal PD, as a contractual detective. The Blood Judges didn't care about crimes that didn't affect the bottom line of the corpos. So, the PD was still in place to protect the citizens. Though... protect should be loosely used.

In 2999, a new millennium is about to begin, and with it comes a lot of trepidation. Crimes have started spiking, but they are getting weirder and weirder. A criminal organization has found a way to weaponize the once dormant revenants to do their bidding without the use of the sun. Richter has been contracted to help with rooting this out with the assistant of a PD/Private/Blood Judge/Mercenary partner. Yet, the High Judge of the Blood Judges isn't all that he once had been. Now a grumpy, overweight, necromancer, he seems to be smoking and eating himself to an early death. Well, early for someone that has almost lived a thousand years, anyway.

WHAT I WANT: M x M/F/NB; I'll be playing Richter, this is a character type I've been wanting to play for a while... a fat, washed up, once cool guy; I don't care what you play mortal/necromancer/lamia and whatever faction you want to be in, surprise me! Your character is going to be the wildcard that this investigation needs to make headway.



| 𝖣𝖠𝖳𝖤 : 11 APRIL 2018 | 𝖨𝖭𝖳𝖤𝖱𝖠𝖢𝖳𝖨𝖮𝖭𝖲 : COUNCIL MEMBERS & THE HAWKGUYS | 𝖫𝖮𝖢𝖠𝖳𝖨𝖮𝖭 : HINOTORI HIGH |

The uptight ones were always interesting to tease. Everything was so literal and like a coarse baton rammed up their asses. Maki tried not to chuckle to herself as they disregarded what she said with obvious solutions. Of course, they didn’t practice with fruit. Maki was just allowing herself the small luxury of teasing Nakano in front of every extension of Hinotori High that she could get away with. They’d practically let a snake into their hen coop. That was how the saying went, right? She was from Kyoto, but she wasn’t that much of a bumpkin.

When the vice president addressed her, Maki stiffened into a salute. “Right, right. Slander. Though, I hope anyone with half a brain cell could figure out that not a single ounce of that was the truth. But… I don’t know if we have many honor students in the class. Of course, President Nakano is. She’s a gleaming beacon to which we all wish to aspire. I mean, her blind guard dog is vicious. That sort of loyalty is inspiring.” She brought her hand down and pressed her clenched fist into her chest as if she was reciting something awe worthy. “No, seriously, Ueno is a boss.”

| 𝖳𝖠𝖦(𝖲) : @Hero @RiverMaiden|



𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙾𝙽: 𝓪 𝓭𝓪𝓶𝓮 𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓭 𝓛𝓲𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓱
𝚆𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙽 𝙾𝚁𝙴𝙶𝙾𝙽, 𝙸-𝟻, 𝙽𝙾𝚁𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙽 𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙴𝚁
𝙹𝚄𝙽𝙴 𝟷𝟼𝚃𝙷 𝟸𝟸𝟾𝟺
𝙷𝙰𝙻𝙵-𝙰𝚂𝙻𝙴𝙴𝙿; 𝙵𝚄𝙻𝙻-𝙿𝙸𝚂𝚂𝙴𝙳

A robot, two super mutants, four humans, an old woman, and a small clicky drone walk into a bar… It wasn’t a finished joke, as the punchline eluded her, but this group was not the regular fodder that crossed the wastelands. This was the sort of cast that appeared in Bottlecap Dreadfuls. It was an attack on her pride to admit she was one of the normal hirelings of the doctor. She’d thought she’d solely have the flair and pizzazz. The only thing she had that was different was her choice of clothing. Jack was the best dressed among them. It wasn’t a hard feat, but then again seeing a super mutant clad in a three-piece suit was the dream.

She’d been keeping half-an-eye out as they marched, taking to peeling a cigar out of the box. The smoke from it was probably itchy to a few sensitive noses, but she was assured that she didn’t bother the robot. Or maybe she did; he seemed to be of the medical make. As the stick slowly dwindled down, so did the repetitive sights of the desert. Flora began to peel out of the ground. Of course, none of it screamed “healthy.” It was the color of the fluorescent lights that dotted New Vegas. But instead of advertising “free drinks for every gambler”, this one offered “sterility with every bite of my neon red fruit.” Jack smirked.

The patchy nature of the sun through the canopy above matched the vitiligo across her tawny, brown skin. Her hat dipped to obscure her eyes, and her white hair was braided at the nape of her neck for heat purposes. Despite their travels, Jack’s clothing had held up. It wasn’t the fragile, silk-like suits that she’d wear around the casino. This was made for traveling. But who said that you had to be ugly while doing it? Apparently, whoever dressed her compatriots. They were more utilitarianly attired. And while that was good on an adventure such as this, it did advertise that they were a walking-talking butcher shop of sentience. They were close to civilization, and Jack couldn’t wait to prop her fancy boots up. Unfortunately, night fell before their feet passed the welcome sign of the town. The doctor wasn’t wrong, it’d be better to camp than to try to trek in the miasma of darkness.

Jack spent the few moments before sleep considering their mission. She’d kept it in the back of her mind along with all the memories that bubbled up there. Her fingers had pawed lightly at her shirt, and she rubbed the imprint of the dog tags beneath with a pensive touch. Her eyes may have flickered over to Ahab and then to Gail before returning to their own business. A soft sigh passed through her lips as she laid down.

Sleep eventually dragged her down, submerging her into the deepness of that slumbering well. Jack was awoken by the sound of yelling and gunshots. Someone stiffly kicked her side. She grunted through a snore and pulled herself upwards. Her palm came to her eyes, and she brushed the sleep out of her vision as her hat tumbled away from its precarious position on her face. “What? Who?” Someone said something about “wolves.” Her ears perked up. “Really, wolves? Just wolves? No scorpion-robot-slug-wolf hybrid?” Jack quickly affixed her hat to her head.“Well, fire away, boys. Get rid of those vanilla-ass wolves so we can move on to the irradiated abominations of the Waste,” she said, pulling out her energy pistol. There was no need for her to fire wildly into the night when she had so many well-armed compatriots. Batteries were expensive, and she was too rattled with yawns to properly aim.


Collab Between @psych0pomp & @Aalakrys
It was about halfway through the day, or cycle as was want to be noted in the black, when Penelope found herself slightly startled at the sudden blur of color that swooped past her pilot seat. She looked up at the fluttering of feathers just in time to see the cutest little critter glide over her console and down into the forward storage. It didn’t take her but a second to recover upon seeing the beautiful plumage, realizing it was the previously mentioned parrot. Eager hazel eyes peeked over and downward, searching for where the bird had gone.

She spotted it just as it tucked down into a space in the hardware of the avionics bay. “Well, hello, there. Seems we have a guest visitin’ today.”

Of course, she was talking to Sam - they’d become quick pals in the last day. But, Sam didn’t always pick up on when the pilot was addressing her. Mostly because Penelope spoke aloud more often than not, a habit over the years. The AI didn’t respond though, and that was curious - Penelope had gotten used to questions. She looked over at the box, and it continued whirring and clicking.

Lucky looked up at Penelope, his large black eyes reflecting the dim lighting in the cabin. He fluffed up, his feathers bolstered by the thick down underneath. He made a few clicking noises, conspiratorial in nature, before tucking his head into the warmth of his hiding spot.

Rex’s footsteps never muted or cautious, thrummed through the hallway as he passed into the tight quarters that formed the bridge. He’d seen a handful of them in his lifetime, and this was not his first time aboard the China Doll’s. Yet, it was the first time with this new pilot.

He tapped gingerly on the frame of the door. “Knock, knock,” he said, sing-songily. “Rex Black here, just your First Mate checking in.” He glanced around, trying to see if he could spot Lucky somewhere amongst the beeps and boops of machinery he had no idea about. Instead, he only saw their pilot. He sighed. “I’m actually looking for my bird. Lucky fly in here? Small thing. Annoying. Proud of himself. Too proud, if you ask me.”

At the tapping against the doorway, along with the accompanying melodic greeting, Penelope turned her eyes from the silent box to see that large man she’d overheard chatting with Cal. First Mate, Rex Black. She could remember that - especially since she’d guessed the position from what she’d gathered.

He was taller up closer. Or maybe she was just very small. Regardless, she smiled softly and pointed down the stairs leading to the nose of the ship. “Seems Lucky decided to join me in my nest.”

Her directive hand moved towards the large man, fingers uncurling. “Penelope Randell, temporary resident of said nest.”

Penelope Randall looked younger than he would have thought for a pilot. But Cal knew his ship better than Rex did. If the captain trusted her with his ole rust bird, then he had to as well. He approached her, not one to let a good handshake go unreturned. His hand practically dwarfed hers as he shook it, but it felt strong in his grip. His father would always say that handshakes could telegraph someone easily. Of course, everyone’s dad said that sort of shit. Rex’s father wasn’t some unsung hero of social cues.

“That figures,” he said, looking past the pilot to see Lucky’s vibrant plumage, not at all hidden by the neutral hues of the cockpit. “I guess I’ll let him have a few minutes of pride before the fall of returning him to his cage. He usually has better manners than this, but it’s been a while since he’s been here and all the corners are unfamiliar. That’s the thing with birds. They’ll take to all the sky they want, but they feel the safest in familiar and tight spaces. Kind of like pilots, I suppose.” He brought his arms up, tapping the top side of his rings against the metal ceiling. At that, Penelope's soft smile touched her lips as she seamlessly slid into her seat, bare foot lifting to tuck right in. The analogy made her eyes twinkle. "Suppose so."

Today’s outfit was more of the same of yesterday’s, khaki pants, nice boots, and a bright t-shirt with a wallowed out collar. It was hard to tell if that had been on purpose or if he’d been pulled along by it constantly. “So, a Pen-ny for your thoughts. What brings you here? Not a lot of pilots on Persephone would be fine with calling a Firefly their home.”

"I'm not from Persephone." Penelope mirrored his more civil-speak, though still holding that gentle hint of amusement as she considered how much like a bird this man thought himself - wearing such vivid colors to attract eyes? Most likely, from what little bit she overheard the day previous. "I needed to find passage home, but I'm always up for a detour. Luck has it, this ship needed a pilot. One that was willing to call it her home for the time being."

Her lips spread into a brighter smile. "And you? Word is a man with his bird came aboard sporting a bloody nose, and the Captain was surprised his First Mate returned."

“Fair. I suppose that not a lot of people call Persephone their permanent home. All the best people always leave.” He winked, lowering his arms and sliding his hands into his pockets. He rummaged around for only a moment before procuring some dried seeds. “Word is right, and I don’t know if I can add many more words to that sentence. I’m an old friend of Cal’s. We spent a few years in close quarters aboard the China Doll, and even closer quarters stowing away in a crate of turtles from Dubai Six. Long story, but to get to the moral of it: not a lot of people find me as charming as I think I am. Hence the bloody nose, hence the turtles, and hence the seed.” He lifted his hand to her. “You want some? Lucky’ll be your best friend.”

Sam whirred on in the momentary silence of Penelope obviously weighing what all the big man said. Open wasn't what she expected, though she rarely had expectations of people. The offered pile of seeds in the large outstretched hand at the end of it, well, earned a chuckle. She reached to take a pinch, pausing with her slightly calloused fingers just above, and looked up at him with that amused glint in her eye. "Heard he bites."

Rex feigned a gasp. “Lies. All lies. Sweetest thing with a beak this side of the Core Worlds. Who told you that?” His brows furrowed somewhat comically. “Cal Junior? The captain? The only person Lucky has never liked was the man I bought him from. Said that he was a curse. Well, I’m still here and so is the China Doll.”

This time Penelope laughed, then shook her head slightly as she took that pinch of seed. She dropped the mirrored speech, favoring her more relaxed way of speaking. "Ain't much one for curses - make my own luck. But… Cal Junior?"

She'd asked as she stood, leaning over her console with the seeds she dropped into her palm outstretched, eyes on the little fluffed up feathers below. "Cap'n has a kid?"

Lucky glanced up as the shadow of Penelope fell upon him. He seemed to almost squint before he rotated his head to the side and saw the seed. That’s all it took. A quick flutter and he was on her hand. He weighed nothing, and his claws wrapped around her finger more as a way to steady himself than to latch onto her. He leaned down and grabbed a seed before pulling it away and working it open in his hooked beak.

“Oh, no.” Rex pocketed the rest of the seed. “That young deckhand. The girl with that horrible drawl and inability to be phased or flustered. I want to see how she handles cleaning a latrine. Will it be just a plain ‘ell I-ain’t never seen nuffin li-e tha’ befur’ as she robotically wipes shit off the ceiling?”

While Rex spoke on about who Penelope had to assume was Abby since the only other deckhand she'd met was Hook, she watched the little bird eating with what could've been endearment. Carefully, she drew in the hand so she didn't jostle the bird, and turned to look at the big guy as she returned to her seat with Lucky. With her eyes still on the bird, she tilted her head a bit as she said in more soft speculation than anything else: "I don't know much about the responsibilities of a First Mate, since I've never been one myself, but seems like hazin' the folk who have the grunt work wouldn't be part of it. Lettin' Abbs under your skin on account of who she is, well … she might be messin' with ya just ta get that rile outta ya."

At that, she grinned up at Rex, somewhat apologetically but still amused before she tested holding a finger of her other hand up to offer rubs for the little bird.

Lucky seemed unphased by the movement. More content to chirp warmly as he plucked the seed from her hand. Rex, on the other hand, watched Penelope as she moved back to her seat. It wasn’t the sort of look that a father might give someone holding their child. More like he was nervous about holding up his end of the bargain that Lucky wasn’t a biter.

“Abby, that’s right.” They’d exchanged names, but Rex had to admit that calling her Cal Junior was more amusing to him than stating her real name. “She’s the sort that doesn’t mind a bit of picking. If anything, she’s better about giving it back than I ever could. If she heard what I said, she’d be like ‘the First Mate’s dressed like a peacock they set on fire because he wouldn’t stop yappin’, and still didn’t stop afterwards,’ or ‘he sure does talk like someone rammed a stick of soap up his arse so far that his words come out like shit bubbles.’” He shrugged. “Part of the job of the First Mate is being able to read people. And, Penelope, you standing up for her just proves you are like a bird. Never poke one when they’re in their tight and comfy place. They just bite back.”

Despite Rex’s warning, Lucky allowed Penelope to pet him. Maybe it was a bit self serving, or maybe she had smaller fingers than Rex, and it was far less smothering.

"One bird to another, then, Peacock," Her hazel eyes flickered upwards briefly, delighted smile still fixed in place as Lucky bobbed against the single finger atop his head. "I'd say it's all about the intent."

When she felt the incredibly fragile little skull stop its pressure against her finger, Penelope lifted it away. She grinned as Lucky went for the last seed in her palm. "And just how proud the other is. For a peacock, I'd wager you know that already, or ya wouldn't be as observant for all your bright plumage and all."

Knowing what it was like to steady against movement, Penelope lifted Lucky in a manner so he wouldn't go off kilter as she offered him back up to his dad with her final amicable words.

Lucky seemed content, fluffing up before settling down in a position that harbored back to a hen gone to roost. Yet, when Penelope lifted him, he seemed to almost sigh before fluttering off her digits and onto Rex’s shoulder. Unfortunately, he wasn’t dressed with anything sporting an elaborate collar. So, he just slid down the length of the neck hole and then inverted himself into the shirt. Rex seemed almost a bit flabbergasted before straightening up.

“When you're as bright colored as I am, you try not to be shot at. And because my aim is shit, I try to use words as my weapon. Anyway, pleasure to meet you and all. Have fun nesting. I’m sure Lucky will be back. It is warm up here, despite all the black.:”

Rex gave a stilted bow, unsure what to do with his current passenger before leaving. He paused by the door, though. “And I’d never make little Cal Junior clean up my latrine. I tend to my own messes.” He tapped the metallic frame before disappearing, a soft whistle following him.


I should be getting a post here soon. I fancied up a nice little banner, and the past couple of days have been a shitshow of work and more work. But I'm off for the weekend. So, one Jack post coming up. Not that she'll be overly helpful with fighting. She's the face, can't have it get mauled now. Maybe. Just some slight mauling.
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