rush99999

Epyllion: Beyond Moonlight's Reach

I keep blanking on Aaliyah's reaction to Hags. X_X

@Guardian Angel Haruki

Do you also keep blanking on Stargaze's reaction to headpats?

The Wild Beyond Witchlight

Hopefully Charm managed to restock the shop after Brutrumukk swiped everything that was there under Trinket and Bauble's watch. If she hasn't... sorry about that. 😖

Household Adventures, a Two Little Mice game

Bartholomew as D'Arcy pulls up to his table: Does this fucking Fly have a death wish or something?

D'Arcy as Bartholomew spits on his boot: Does this wrinkly asshole have a death wish or something?

Household Adventures, a Two Little Mice game

An annoyed grunt escaped Bartholomew's clenched teeth when Old Abbott disrupted his intimidating display. The old bandit did no more than that, annoyed though he was, since the innkeeper had brought him a formidable tankard and promised that food was on the way. Bartholomew took up the drink and drained a third of it in a matter of seconds. As he paused to lower the tankard and let out a satisfied "Ahh.", the aging Boggart felt a hand gently grip his shoulder. "You're slipping, Bartholomew." His wife's voice came low and concerned from beside him.

"We'll that is to be expected." Bartholomew said with a shrug of his free shoulder, too engrossed in his drink to be aware of the worry. "I'm getting on in my years, dear. I can't be fierce and frightening forever." He raised his tankard for another drink, but was stopped by one hand over his drink pushing it back down on the table and another hand on his chin turning his head to face the owner of the hands.

"That's not what I mean, my love." Marian said to her husband, the man now fully aware of his wife's concern. "You're slipping, Bartholomew."

Bartholomew took a moment to fully digest the true meaning of those words. Then he sighed and bowed his head in admission. "I suppose you're right." He said.

"Have you paid him a visit since you arrived?" Marian asked, something that caused both other Boggarts at the table to wince for reasons not readily apparent.

"I... No. I haven't. Not yet." Bartholomew said. "I was planning to go see him after breakfast."

"I'll come with you." Marian said as her hand left her husband's shoulder. "I've been meaning to visit him too, but I keep having trouble finding the time. Mouse ranching is busy work."

"I can imagi-" Was as far as Bartholomew was able to get before noticing the Lieutenant heading towards their table. "Does this fucking Fly have a death wish or something?" The old bandit growled in Hearthish.

Bartholomew felt the old urges rise up within him. Urges that only strengthened when his fight or flight instincts kicked in as D'Arcy started making accusations. Before he could do anything rash though, he was forced to shut one eye momentarily as a ray of sunlight glinted off his tankard and into his eye. That reminder of the tankard's presence further reminded Bartholomew that you didn't need anything too grand to throw of a show of saber rattling. And so he simply leaned over the side of the table, spat on the Fairy's boot, and returned to his drink as Artemisia began talking.

OOC

Bartholomew failed the Society Will roll and becomes Scared, but removes the condition by facing his fear with a show of absolute disrespect for the weight of D'Arcy's authority.

Household Adventures, a Two Little Mice game

Regardless of the answer, Margerie would definitely have told Artie a few things about Bartholomew on the journey to the Entry Hall.

- He's quick to anger and grumpy by default.
- He's casually racist towards Faeries and Sprites.
- He developed a lot of bad habits in his younger days. And while he is trying to break them now, he is finding it very difficult to.
- He is almost always completely penniless from a mix of charity and carousing.

Household Adventures, a Two Little Mice game

Margerie would know about Bartholomew's past. As for if she'd tell Artie, that would depend on how close they are.

Adventure (A D&D 5E Game)

@Birdboy @Dark Cloud

Did either of you want to get a post in before me?

Planescape: Search for Tir na Og

Fyodor Strelnikov

Fyodor gave no reply to Zaraknvyr's words, simply moving his hands away from his implements of vampire murder once the fanged Mercykiller had shown he wasn't about to cause trouble and turning back to his wine once the Jailer had finished speaking. Fyodor didn't need to look at his compatriots to know that he had cared a lot more about what had just happened than they did. Unsurprising considering the fact that they were Bleakers. Being a Bleaker himself, Fyodor shouldn't have cared so much either. But fangs had been a weak point in the apathy he had been cultivating within himself as a part of the Bleak Cabal from the very beginning. Nothing in the multiverse mattered, Fyodor knew this. Yet no amount of focusing on this truth could change his reaction to reminders of where he came from.

Especially when that reminder was fangs.

Fyodor took another sip of wine, drinking slow and savoring every drop. Partially because he wanted to enjoy the taste of the wine and the pleasant memories it conjured, but mainly because he wanted to wait until some time after Zaraknvyr had left before going to the portal. If they were to be traveling in the same direction, Fyodor wanted as wide a gap between the two of them as possible.

Household Adventures, a Two Little Mice game

"QUIET!"

A booming bellow cut through the arguing like a razor blade cuts through rat hide. All present fell silent and turned towards the source of the sound. Any trace of Bartholomew's previous joviality had vanished without a trace as he fixed the two offending littlings with an intimidating glare, honed over three long decades of terrorizing the House into a visage that only the bravest hearts could hope to face without skipping a beat.

"I came here today... to enjoy a peaceful breakfast with my family... Something I don't get to do all that often, mind you... And to finally meet someone that my daughter has been speaking highly of in her letters home." Bartholomew growled, his every breath coming now in ragged angry huffs. "It's bad enough that I must weather this unexpected infestation of Flies... But now you would have me endure your bothersome bickering too? No. I think not... You." Bartholomew pointed at D'Arcy. "Do whatever the fuck it is you came here to do, then take your swarm and piss off... And you." He turned his finger on Elizabeth. "Bring me and mine some breakfast and get me a jug of the Triple X. I am too hungry, and am I far too sober to be dealing with this rat shit... Well? Why are you two just standing there? MOVE!"

OOC

Bartholomew gets two Basic Successes on a War Authority roll to frighten D'Arcy and Elizabeth into ending their argument.

Planescape: Search for Tir na Og

Fyodor Strelnikov

The taste of wine... the only reminder of his homeland that Fyodor did not shy away from.

It had gotten him through many hardships in the past and he associated it with what few good memories he had of what had come before Sigil. Fyodor shut his eyes, a faint trace of a smile playing across his lips as the sensations of the crimson sweetness on his tongue carried him back.

Back to the day when he had shared a drink with Szoldar and Yevgeni, his mentors in wolf hunting, to celebrate the completion of his training. Back to the times when he and his best friend Doru, and occasionally his cousin Parpol if Fyodor could sneak him away from his uncle, would drink to celebrate the turn of the year and living to see it. Back to when he and his brothers had made a habit of rowing out onto Lake Zarovich one Summer to try their hands at fishing. None of them were any good at it, but that didn't really matter when the youngest brother was always quick to break out a bottle of chilled wine to cheer them up from their frustrations and cool them down in the heat of the sun... Wait... Fyodor was an only child... And the heat of the sun had never been a bother to him in all the years of his life.

Fyodor opened his eyes with a confused grimace on his face. For as long as he could remember, memories that weren't his had found their way into his mind every once in a while. He wasn't sure how or why it happened, and he had never been able to accustom himself to the intrusions. But aside from that, they had never been of any harm. They had sometimes been helpful even. Though they had become more and more frequent ever since he had escaped. Perhaps it was time he found someone knowledgeable in matters of the mind and got their opinion on-

"We go the same path. Let us avoid crossing blades when greater foes may be afoot. Your lot may join my party."

Fyodor's grimace of confusion became one of enmity as he turned to regard the Mercykiller that had just addressed him and his. The Jailers had a habit of making themselves a nuisance to the Bleak Cabal. That, along with the presumptuousness of this particular member of the faction was more than enough to draw Fyodor's ire.

And then he saw the fangs.

Fyodor set his glass of wine down on the bar as the fingers of his free hand closed around a flask of holy water tucked into a bandolier that lay across his torso. "The Bleak Cabal has an entire expedition making ready to depart from Ecstasy." Fyodor said as the hand that once held his wine glass moved to hover over a hammer dangling off his belt. "We have no need to join the party of a Mercykiller. Especially not one that is liable to drink our blood while we sleep."