Current
As a GM, I hate all my players in particular
5
likes
8 mos ago
joining the war on smoking, on the side of smoking
2
likes
9 mos ago
as a patreon reward I will read your least favorite person's handmade custom tabletop RPG homebrew and ask them why they didn't just run it in 5e instead
3
likes
11 mos ago
I started RP before double digit age but you couldn't have gotten an admission I was under 18 under threat of death. Kids just casually admiting it online now is wild.
"Ah, please." Fiona huffed in response to Hestia's comeback, chugging down the rest of her Buckfast and slamming the bottle down onto the bar. "There's what, six, seven, eight years between us? Media'd crucify my arse, if he was even my type." But before she could bicker more with Hestia, all the rest of Galar's assorted Gym Leaders started to slowly trickle into the bar, one at a time.
Fiona casually greeted each new arrival in turn, ordering an actual cocktail for herself in the process. She took a swig of her daiquiri as Sawyer in particular greeted her back, offering him a raised middle finger with her free hand .
"Shut tae fuck up, Sawyer." She shot back with a smirk and a chortle. "Buckie's a damn wonder of th' world, an' I'll not hear ya talk shite about it. But if ye wanna be a numpty bitch, I ain't see our barkeep here fuck up a single drink yet."
With that said, Fiona glanced around while downing her second drink.
"Right, now that everyone's here...boss man gonna show up? Or this actually just gonna be a social?" She looked to one specific person in particular. "Well Ryker, yer Champ. Wanna give us a few words at all, just so our Chairman, in his infinite fuckin' wisdom, don't get on yer arse? Ye know, before we get hammered an' trash tae place."
Name: Renar Hagen, the Bastard of Brias Age: 22 Gender: Male Race: Human Appearance:
Stands tall at about 6'2. Is well-muscled and broad of shoulder. When not in armor, typically wears clothing that is simple in design but well-made. His main concession to vanity is draping himself in a fine cloak or cape.
Personality: Focused and keen, Renar is a man who knows what he wants and how to acquire it. And if he can't acquire it yet, he'll find a way. From his childhood, he'd possessed a chip on his shoulder about his status as a bastard, ever seeking to prove himself and win glory. So long as one doesn't throw his natural born origins in his face, Renar is unbothered, but anyone who attempts to degrade him by insulting his birth status wins themselves a grudge. His primary goal is to win enough prestige in order to rise above his bastard status, either becoming legitimized and taking his father's name or being allowed to start his own noble house.
Renar is more cunning than he is chivalrous, willing to take actions that nobler knights would balk at. After all, he's already a bastard. He'd only be living down to what was expected of him. So why not abuse that to his advantage? In his mind, a knight is a trained killer first and foremost, and any pretensions to honor and chivalry are coping mechanisms to convince oneself of their cause. Still, even he has his limits, and he would not stand for harming children or one's own spouse or paramour.
Despite his craftiness, Renar can't help himself when it comes to personal challenges. Whether it be a formal duel or a single combat in the midst of battle, he is easily goaded into one-on-one battles, eagerly wishing to prove himself better over another.
Brief Backstory: Born as a bastard of the House of Brias to his lord father and a commoner mother, Renar was nonetheless allowed to reside within his family's castle and be raised alongside his trueborn siblings. The Brias family had martial origins, originally being a knightly house before winning lands and glory a century ago. Nonetheless, they were still only a minor house, and even a bastard could be of use to them. By the time Renar was capable of walking and talking, his eldest half-brother was already a grown man. Nonetheless, another son could always win more prestige for the family, despite his bastard status. He would never bear the family name, but he could certainly create his own dynasty.
Renar was raised much the same as his half-siblings were, given a formal education as well as training at arms. He had a fair head for numbers and proved himself adequate in matters of administration, but Renar's talents skewed far more towards the training yard. Castle Brias's master-of-arms was noted to have remarked that of all of Lord Brias's sons, the bastard was by far the most skilled in the knightly arts.
Once he'd completed his squiring and his training, the newly christened Sir Renar took to the battlefield in the hopes of earning further advancement and prestige as a knight. Had he been but a few years older, he could have fought in the Red Flag War and won glory for himself that way, but he’d only barely managed to finish his squiring by the conflict’s end, and the knight he’d been squired to had been stationed within the capital for the entirety of the war’s duration. A bastard had no place on the tourney circuit, and so real combat was his only chance to prove himself worthy. While it only took a few skirmishes and tourney placings for his trueborn brothers to be inducted into orders such as the Crown Knights, Renar served under a banneret for three years, fighting outlaws and beasts until an opportunity presented itself at last.
His chance finally came during a defense against an orcish raid into Thaln, and he seized it with all he had. After a brutal battle, Renar slew the orcs' warchief in single combat, having been the only one of his banneret to break through to him without being bogged down by the rest of the raid party. He claimed the raid leader's mantle as a trophy and distinguished himself in the process, earning an offer of recruitment into the Iron Rose Knights.
While some other knightly orders had also extended offers to Renar, he’d ultimately chosen to join the Iron Rose’s ranks for their prestige and their role in general. Being an Iron Rose knight was a far more likely way for him to gain further glory and establish his name than being stationed in a more specialized order. And so he gladly became a knight of the Iron Rose. That had been two years ago, and he still serves with the order to this day.
Equipment: Renar's armor is rugged and well-worn, but solid and dependable. His set of full plate appears to be a hodgepodge of whatever scavenged pieces he determined both fit him well and provided the best protection. He bears a cavalry lance for use on horseback, but prefers using a poleaxe on foot. His sidearms consist of an arming sword and a dagger, both sheathed on his belt. Renar wears a savage-looking fur-lined mantle into battle, it once belonging to an orcish raid leader he'd slain in single combat and kept as a trophy. His personal steed is a simple brown rouncey.
Skills: Renar is skilled and well-rounded in the knightly arts. Despite the fact that he rides well enough and would likely place a decent ranking in a joust, he prefers fighting on foot as an infantryman and is a far better infantry fighter than he is a cavalryman. He has been trained in most martial weapons, and can fight well enough with a sword. However, his true ability lies in fighting with polearms and quarterstaves, enjoying the reach and versatility a pole weapon affords him. Renar complements his already formidable skill on foot with a willingness to use dirty tactics, believing that victory on the battlefield washes away all stains of dishonor.
However, Renar is only a passable shot with a bow and has no affinity for magic whatsoever. He attempts to compensate for these shortcomings with sheer physical might, exercising and training constantly in order to improve his strength, agility, and skill.
Off the battlefield, Renar has a surprising head for numbers and accounting for a knight, being rather adept at finances and administration.
Name: Renar Hagen, the Bastard of Brias Age: 22 Gender: Male Race: Human Appearance:
Stands tall at about 6'2. Is well-muscled and broad of shoulder. When not in armor, typically wears clothing that is simple in design but well-made. His main concession to vanity is draping himself in a fine cloak or cape.
Personality: Focused and keen, Renar is a man who knows what he wants and how to acquire it. And if he can't acquire it yet, he'll find a way. From his childhood, he'd possessed a chip on his shoulder about his status as a bastard, ever seeking to prove himself and win glory. So long as one doesn't throw his natural born origins in his face, Renar is unbothered, but anyone who attempts to degrade him by insulting his birth status wins themselves a grudge. His primary goal is to win enough prestige in order to rise above his bastard status, either becoming legitimized and taking his father's name or being allowed to start his own noble house.
Renar is more cunning than he is chivalrous, willing to take actions that nobler knights would balk at. After all, he's already a bastard. He'd only be living down to what was expected of him. So why not abuse that to his advantage? In his mind, a knight is a trained killer first and foremost, and any pretensions to honor and chivalry are coping mechanisms to convince oneself of their cause. Still, even he has his limits, and he would not stand for harming children or one's own spouse or paramour.
Despite his craftiness, Renar can't help himself when it comes to personal challenges. Whether it be a formal duel or a single combat in the midst of battle, he is easily goaded into one-on-one battles, eagerly wishing to prove himself better over another.
Brief Backstory: Born as a bastard of the House of Brias to his lord father and a commoner mother, Renar was nonetheless allowed to reside within his family's castle and be raised alongside his trueborn siblings. The Brias family had martial origins, originally being a knightly house before winning lands and glory a century ago. Nonetheless, they were still only a minor house, and even a bastard could be of use to them. By the time Renar was capable of walking and talking, his eldest half-brother was already a grown man. Nonetheless, another son could always win more prestige for the family, despite his bastard status. He would never bear the family name, but he could certainly create his own dynasty.
Renar was raised much the same as his half-siblings were, given a formal education as well as training at arms. He had a fair head for numbers and proved himself adequate in matters of administration, but Renar's talents skewed far more towards the training yard. Castle Brias's master-of-arms was noted to have remarked that of all of Lord Brias's sons, the bastard was by far the most skilled in the knightly arts.
Once he'd completed his squiring and his training, the newly christened Sir Renar took to the battlefield in the hopes of earning further advancement and prestige as a knight. Had he been but a few years older, he could have fought in the Red Flag War and won glory for himself that way, but he’d only barely managed to finish his squiring by the conflict’s end, and the knight he’d been squired to had been stationed within the capital for the entirety of the war’s duration. A bastard had no place on the tourney circuit, and so real combat was his only chance to prove himself worthy. While it only took a few skirmishes and tourney placings for his trueborn brothers to be inducted into orders such as the Crown Knights, Renar served under a banneret for three years, fighting outlaws and beasts until an opportunity presented itself at last.
His chance finally came during a defense against an orcish raid into Thaln, and he seized it with all he had. After a brutal battle, Renar slew the orcs' warchief in single combat, having been the only one of his banneret to break through to him without being bogged down by the rest of the raid party. He claimed the raid leader's mantle as a trophy and distinguished himself in the process, earning an offer of recruitment into the Iron Rose Knights.
While some other knightly orders had also extended offers to Renar, he’d ultimately chosen to join the Iron Rose’s ranks for their prestige and their role in general. Being an Iron Rose knight was a far more likely way for him to gain further glory and establish his name than being stationed in a more specialized order. And so he gladly became a knight of the Iron Rose. That had been two years ago, and he still serves with the order to this day.
Equipment: Renar's armor is rugged and well-worn, but solid and dependable. His set of full plate appears to be a hodgepodge of whatever scavenged pieces he determined both fit him well and provided the best protection. He bears a cavalry lance for use on horseback, but prefers using a poleaxe on foot. His sidearms consist of an arming sword and a dagger, both sheathed on his belt. Renar wears a savage-looking fur-lined mantle into battle, it once belonging to an orcish raid leader he'd slain in single combat and kept as a trophy. His personal steed is a simple brown rouncey.
Skills: Renar is skilled and well-rounded in the knightly arts. Despite the fact that he rides well enough and would likely place a decent ranking in a joust, he prefers fighting on foot as an infantryman and is a far better infantry fighter than he is a cavalryman. He has been trained in most martial weapons, and can fight well enough with a sword. However, his true ability lies in fighting with polearms and quarterstaves, enjoying the reach and versatility a pole weapon affords him. Renar complements his already formidable skill on foot with a willingness to use dirty tactics, believing that victory on the battlefield washes away all stains of dishonor.
However, Renar is only a passable shot with a bow and has no affinity for magic whatsoever. He attempts to compensate for these shortcomings with sheer physical might, exercising and training constantly in order to improve his strength, agility, and skill.
Off the battlefield, Renar has a surprising head for numbers and accounting for a knight, being rather adept at finances and administration.
Made some edits and adjustments from last time. Renar is aged down just enough to have barely missed the war, because I didn't want to adjust his backstory too much to deal with it.
So despite me saying the exact opposite half an hour ago, I'm reconsidering reapping Renar. Mostly because looking it back over, I liked what I had going three years ago and didn't get to use him that much.
The wind surging past. The breeze in her face. The sheer feeling of velocity. Fiona grinned as she rushed through Galar's skies at breakneck speeds on Raptor's back, the Corviknight manipulating the immediate windstream around it so that her rider wasn't blown off at the speed they were going.
"Hiiiiiiiighway to the danger zone~" She sang without a care, the earbuds embedded in both her ears and her Corviknight's blasting out a classic tune. "Riiiide intoooooo, the danger zooooooone~"
Unfortunately for her enjoyment, Wyndon came up in the distance far too quickly for her liking. It was only a brief flight from Ballonlea, and Raptor's speed made that take even less time, cutting the good time short. With a sigh, Fiona tapped the back of her mount's neck in a quick pattern, signaling for her to cut speed and begin descending. Fiona continued to guide the Corviknight down towards the location of the bar she was given, and by the time they reached the ground, they'd burned enough speed to reach a complete stop.
"Thank ye, girl." Fiona grinned at Raptor, ruffling her starter's head. The bird cooed back, and Fiona returned her to a Pokeball before shrugging off the small jacket she'd worn over her black cocktail dress and sauntering into The Last Dahlia.
It was all she could do to avoid rolling her eyes at the sight of the interior, really. For one, the place was too fancy for her tastes. She'd been here a few times before, but never really of her own volition. There were far better spots in Wyndon for a good party, even if the drinks here were fantastic. For another, the entire bar cleared out? Really? Did the Chairman seriously buy the entire joint out just for tonight? Really just a bit too extravagant for her. No liveliness, nothing. Man, her boss was a dick sometimes.
At least she wasn't the first one present to this little shindig, though. That would've just been embarassing. While Fiona would have preferred to be fashionably late, that would also have meant not flying at ludicrous speeds, and that just wouldn't do.
"Good evening, motherfuckers!" Fiona greeted cheerfully as she plopped herself down on a bar stool next to Hestia, catching the last bit of Ryker and Hestia's conversation. Well, she just couldn't help but butt in at that. "Champ, Crown Royal's a shite whiskey. I know yer but a wee lad, so I'll excuse yer taste fer now. Get something distilled outta tha' Tundra next time. An' speaking of booze, I ain't had a chance tae pregame before this. Barkeep, hit me wit' Buckie! Whole bottle, no need fer a glass."
Mason delivered quickly, popping open and sliding a small bottle of Fiona's favored tipple across the bar, though not without a roll of his eyes. Fiona raised it to her lips with gusto and took several swigs of caffeinated, sweetened tonic wine before clapping Hestia on the back.
"Ahh, that's that good shite right there! So, Hestie, how ya been? Too busy pissin' and moaning over Ryker kickin' yer arse last season?" She smirked, already aiming to rile her friendly rival up. Not that she'd done any better, considering Hestia had beat her in the Cup last season. But, well, that didn't exactly bother her. Not like Hestia could use it as ammunition back. Fiona knocked back another few gulps of Buckfast before continuing on, already having made her way through most of the bottle.
"And how 'bout ye, Champ? Tired of tha fangirls yet? Shack up wit' any?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, though the effect was lost with her snickering to herself, obviously fucking with him. "Boss man really had tae insist we do a dress-up shindig, aye? What a daft bastard he is sometimes."
What an unproductive day this had been thus far. The only way Vyandar had managed to honor Anhur by evening was when he had taken several minutes to deliver last rights to the corpses of the Nuniel scout camp. They had died in battle, and thus warranted honors for that reason. Aside from that, though, the day up to dusk had been nothing but tedious searching and travel. How disappointing.
Kyra had informed Vyandar that both she and Aurelian would be staying put in some run-down village until he caught up. It took a few hours of trudging, but the cleric eventually made it to the location he'd been given. His fellow Envoys came into view, and Vyandar picked up his pace until he stood before them, examining the two.
"Any further developments?" He grunted before looking down at the young human girl that seemed to be accompanying them. "And you've picked up a stray, it seems. A survivor? Good on you, girl."
Invisible protection around this beast? How vexing. Dragan narrowed his eyes as he observed Ilena's claws fare no better than his blade. Brute force didn't seem to be an option with the power he currently held, but magical assaults were still in play. Before the former paladin could capitalize on his hastily-formed plan, he was taken off-guard by the sheer speed the creature exhibited in snapping its jaws forward at him.
Even as Dragan reflexively moved to sidestep out of the way, he knew that he wouldn't make it in time-
"Halt, decayed creature!"
Ah. The benefit of having allies. Dragan's blood magic surged, increasing his speed further at the last moment to propel him out of the way of the slightly-slowed skeleton's bite. He skidded along the ground upon landing, coming to a sudden stop by plunging his rapier into the street.
"You have my gratitude, Lady Emeraltide!" Dragan called out, raising his rapier. "We'll have to erode its protection first! Impede it as best as possible until we do!" From his position, the vampire lord surged blood magic through his legs again, leaping onto the beast's back. Dragan raised his free hand as he mounted the monster, channeling necrotic magics in his palm before slamming it straight towards his foe, aiming to accelerate the decay of whatever protection was surrounding it.
”Yer here for a battle, aye? Fine, fine. Then let’s see if ye can keep up wit' me in the open sky!”
MAIN PROFILE
Name: Fiona MacConnell
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Birthplace: Freezington
Appearance Information: Stands at about 5’8”. Skin is fair, long blonde hair, has a lithe build. Somewhat toned musculature, moderate bust.
Typically wears casual clothing such as plain T-shirts and jeans, but makes the token effort of putting on a fashionable jacket. Always seen with a pair of flying goggles around her head, for use in the skies.
When the occasion calls for it, has a full Sky Trainer glider suit for both Sky Battles and official appearances as a Gym Leader. Wears her Dynamax Band on her right wrist, with a Key Stone mounted into the opposite side of the wristband from where the plate is.
Personality: A free spirit by all accounts, Fiona prefers not to be burdened by much outside of her Pokemon and her Gym. She’s relaxed and lackadaisical, unconcerned with what others think so long as she’s satisfied with her own performance. She’s a wanderer at heart, spending much of her time outside of League-mandated Gym battles soaring the skies of Galar atop one of her many Flying Pokemon.
Despite her carefree nature, or, as some would believe, because of it, Fiona is a hard book to read. It’s difficult to accurately get a handle on what she wants or is thinking, and she tends to just go with the flow much of the time.
Of course, that isn’t to say there isn’t a brain underneath all the laziness and aimless wandering. She’s a quick wit when she’s forced to be, and aims for efficiency in what she does, so as to better get things over with and go back to a state of relaxation.
Short Biography: While born in the icy southern town of Freezington, Fiona only spent a portion of her early years there. By the age of nine, she moved with her family to Kalos for a number of years on account of her parents’ work. It was in Kalos that Fiona saw her first Sky Battle, inspiring a love of Flying Pokemon and the open sky itself that she carries to this day.
During her stay in Kalos, Fiona became a certified Sky Trainer by her teenage years along with her regular schooling before her family returned to Galar. Upon finishing high school, Fiona immediately set out on that year’s Gym Challenge, wanting to explore the homeland she’d spent most of her teenage years out of. She won her eight badges handily enough, but was knocked out in the semi-finals of the Champion’s Cup.
Losing didn’t particularly bother Fiona. Hell, she’d gotten further than she’d expected herself. And being Champion was a burden she wouldn’t have really wanted anyway. Interviews, public appearances, actual duties? No thanks. So with a smile and a shrug, Fiona decided to continue her journey, spending the next few years traveling from region to region, learning about different varieties of Flying Pokemon while exploring all she wanted to. She didn’t let up on honing her battling skills, either. Fiona took part in the professional battling circuit across the world, from Mt. Battle to the Frontier.
It was on a break from her journey back home in Galar that Fiona was approached to become a Gym Leader by one of the current Leaders looking to retire. While initially resistant to the idea of being tied down in one place, she was eventually worn down by persistent arguments and the knowledge that she could always quit if the responsibility really was too much. Of course, the salary and job stability didn’t hurt either. After all, maintaining a career as a professional battler was an uncertain thing at the best of times. So with yet another shrug, Fiona stepped into the next chapter of her life.
She’s been at the job for three years now, and has performed rather admirably despite her own doubts to the contrary. Fiona’s attitude isn’t always appreciated, but she brings in ratings with her battles and contributes decently to the community outside of the challenge season, both patrolling the Wild Area for incidents and helping to train the Flying Taxi service’s Corviknights.
Likes:
Goofing off
Flying on Pokeback
Tonic wine
First-person shooters
Cooking for others
Finger foods
Lattes
Dislikes:
Working
Journalists
Sailing
Elaborate fashion
Cooking for herself
Cleaning
Workaholics
Quirks:
Speaks with a Scottish Crown Tundra accent
Spends more time and brainpower figuring out ways to get out of doing her job than it would take to actually do her job
Has petitioned the League Chairman to allow Mega Evolution (and Z-moves by proxy) in the League for the last three years running. Has been unsuccessful for the last three years running.
Maintains correspondence with Gurkinn and Korrina of the Tower of Mastery, as she trained under them to learn Mega Evolution.
Growler: Hawlucha One of Fiona's original team members that couldn't quite cut it at the highest levels of competition. Constantly seeks to improve himself and stay in shape, but knows that his glory days are past.
Fishbed: Cramorant A goofy motherfucker. Doesn't ever seem to care for where he is or what he's supposed to do outside of battle and eating.
Harrier: Xatu Blank and silent to the point where no one ever can really tell what she's feeling. Substituted onto Fiona's active roster at times when she needs a teleporter for extremely quick travel. Has locations across most of Galar and parts of Kalos memorized.
Terminator: (Gigantamax) Corviknight A former Flying Taxi Pokemon that turned out to be more suited for battle than transport. Bears a scrappy disposition and constantly tries to fight against the heavier hitters on Fiona's main team, but doesn't quite measure up.
Raptor: (Gigantamax) Corviknight Fiona's starter and her oldest companion. Stoic and resolute, she watches over the rest of the flock and can be counted on to mediate disputes among the crew. The strongest Pokemon on the team by official League metrics, thanks to her Gigantamax form.
Lightning: Noivern Wild, hyperactive, and mischievous. He has a need for speed and loves to show said speed off, always eager for a battle or a race. Causes problems with his eagerness and energy, but not on purpose.
Flanker: Gliscor Relaxed and cheerful. The one closest to her own trainer's temperament on the team. Likes nothing more than to laze about and sleep. Tends to go along with whatever the rest of Fiona's team is up to, humoring the other members whenever they get too energetic or aggressive.
Berkut: Talonflame Egotistical. Preens a lot. Has a tendency to show off during battle and be the most visually spectacular among Fiona's team. Doesn't take being upstaged in style well, and picks fights with other showoffs.
Hornet: Yanmega The quiet one. Doesn't interact much with the rest of the crew, but mostly out of nervousness due to being Fiona's newest addition, and due to the Bug type's inherent weakness to the Flying type.
Felon: (Mega) Salamence The true ace of Fiona's squad. Arrogant and bloodthirsty, but still loyal to Fiona and his fellow Pokemon on the team. Picks fights with everyone else. Unfortunately, never gets the chance to show off his real strength in Galar League battles due to a ban on Mega Evolution and the League's preference for Dynamaxing.
Rafale: Togekiss Surprisingly for one of its species, perpetually frowning and irritable. Always seems to be cooking up one nasty plot or another in his head. Mostly brought onto Fiona's team to troll Hestia during the Cup.
Fulcrum: Aerodactyl Somewhat of a space case. Outside of battle, has very little idea what is going on most of the time and prefers to just idle and perch out of the way of everyone else. Is the exact opposite in battle, being hyper focused and aware. Would be capable of Mega Evolution if Fiona could actually get her hands on an Aerodactylite.
Barge: Gyarados A holdover from Fiona's challenge and adventuring days, Barge regards most situations and Pokemon with an eye of weary experience, having seen it all at this point. She's still kept in shape enough to be substituted in for the Cup, but is more often called on when Fiona needs water transportation for some reason.
Blackjack: Honchkrow Another one of Fiona's original party, having had to suffer an early retirement due to an improperly-healed wing. Has taken to being a house Pokemon well, preferring to hop around Fiona's home and enjoy the perks of a domestic life.
Mimsy: Furfrou The MacConnell family pet since their days in Kalos during Fiona's teenage years. Has come into Fiona's possession for the time being, as her parents have gone off on a year-long retirement cruise.
RELATIONS
Hestia: "Right bloody cunt, that one. Though ye'd expect it outta Dragon Tamers, really. Good friend, though. Could do tae calm down a tad, especially on tha pitch, but she wouldn't be her otherwise, I suppose."
Mika: "Big fan of his show here. Really appreciate that unlike some of our fuckin' coworkers, he knows how tae kick back an' have fun. Lad should make th' time fer a vacation so he can experience some shite outside Galar fer himself instead of askin' me. Only thing I can complain about is how he's too much of a pussy fer a good drink."
Nordrin: "We really gotta talk about this? Fine, fine. I know he's a bit of a cunt...okay, not just a bit. But there's a good man under there. He gives a shite. I just think he gives too damn much of one to make time fer much else in life. And don't ye go reading too much into that."
Holly: "Not a bad one. We got some similar interests, but she's a bit too much of a hard worker. Gets on my case sometimes. Keeps tryin' tae wake me up fer a mornin' jog, of all bloody things. Still, we bitch about tae fuckin' media hounds together over coffee, an' if that dinnae bring people together, goddamn nothing does."
Bianca: "Good lass. I view her as a little sister, really. I drag her around places, it's nice. Probably should take her to tha Tundra some time, she'd love it there. Anyways, she could stand tae stop tryin' ta clean my home when she comes over, th' mess's perfectly functional. I know where everything is."
Isaiah: "Ehhhhh, we don't talk much. He's quiet, I ain't, ya get th' picture. Ya gotta be at least some kinda smart tae be a doctor, though, so he's clearly doin' something right."
Iris: "Right cute lass, that one. All those rumors're bloody stupid, but I like it when she fucks about and plays along. We're good friends, too. I like tae drag her out fer a night on th' town every now an' then."
Sawyer: "Fine lad. Could stand tae take shite a bit easier, but he's fun otherwise. Real softie, too. Though he'd probably bitch me out if he heard me say that."
Sebastien: "Who? Oh, right, new guy. Honestly, genuinely impressed he even made it tae this position, what wit' all his knowledge gaps. A bit too serious fer my tastes, though. An' by a bit, I mean way too much. Dinnae think I've seen him crack a single smile, ever."
Astrid: "Like her a good deal. Similar interests, not too far up her own arse, knows how tae have fun. All that competition gets a bit much fer me at times, but when she ain't in that sorta mood, I got no complaints about hangin' out wit' her."
Member
Xaltwind
Double
The Otter
Rune_Alchemist
Fish of Oblivion
Savo
The World
Antlers
Scrawl Banditta
Bacon
