SillyGoy

Fugitive Powers

I have posted. This particular entry highlights Tim's view on pigeons.

Fugitive Powers

Timothy gave Miriam a friendly smile as he returned the bottle into the recesses of his backpack, all the way further examining her as he fished out a Hershey’s chocolate bar; and she indeed looked terrible. Resisting the impulse to shake his head in pity, he reached out once more and offered the food, with gentleness saying, “Here, you look like you need the strength.”

He did not mind the pigeon tugging at the corner of his eyes, the situation pressing Miriam’s need for attention than that of the bird’s. He did not even spare it a thought that it was quite peculiar it hadn’t flown away yet. Pigeons are dumb birds; were it a crow, though, Timothy would have understood its decision to stay and observe.

Alas, he did not even think of it, and it was simply a dumb pigeon.

"Why are you out here on the streets at this hour, child? Why not seek an aid station so you can get food and drink from one of the charities, and a bed for the night?"

Fugitive Powers

So, who gets to post first right now, Quatro, you or me?

What Lies Below

"That Jespir fellow is pretty damn handsome," Ernst muttered as he lay on his bed, his thoughts not allowing him to sleep. "Too damn handsome, in fact. Hell, he's prettier than half the girls back at Rhoen."

His brow furrowed deeply at the train of thought he was riding, but soon he could not deny the facts: "Jespir's pretty... well, pretty. Like a woman."

Distressed, he put a fist over his mouth and bit a knuckle.

---

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Fugitive Powers

Quatro said
When transformed, he is able to speak in a human language and is not be able t combine several animal forms.

Well, there's this bit. We can pretend that Luke was actually talking.

Fugitive Powers

Timothy tilted his head in curiosity, still staring intently at Miriam but finding himself at a loss for words at what a sudden male voice had uttered. No, he must have misheard; it wasn’t the voice of a spirit or a Holy Ghost, unless he summoned one by accident -- and that’s incredibly unlikely; it must have been his mind playing tricks on him, thus further confirming his fears that he had gotten a mild case of paranoia. But he would have to take care of it some other time for this unfortunate person came first in his list of current priorities. Thusly, he crouched down and unslung his bag, opening it to procure a bottle of water. Taking a closer look at the girl, she was in worse shape than he had thought…

“You look terrible. Here,” he offered the bottle. For to be generous, especially to the impoverished, is a saintly act.

Fugitive Powers

That's right, girl, make some noise so I can find you easier.

I love it when they cooperate.

Edit: Post edited to comply with Luke's actions. Did not actually notice his post and thought that the pigeon was an NPC of sorts. Will flog myself in penance.

Fugitive Powers

The sudden din startled Timothy, but the even more sudden pigeon flapping its wings about the girl added to that effect. The cries of pain from just behind one of the dumpsters made him doubt his actions, that perhaps pursuing this unfortunate fellow was doing more harm than good, but alas, what was done was done, and Timothy could but press on. Standing up from reflexively crouching from when the bird had acted -- and what a scare that had given him! -- the seminary took cautious steps to where the din had emanated.

“Are you okay?”, he meekly asked, peeking over the side of the dumpster to behold a petite feminine figure. “Miss...?”

One hand was already clutching a strap of his backpack in case she needed aid and required his supplies. Should the incredibly unexpected happen, however, there was his M1911A1 tucked safely in one of the easily-accessible side pockets, loaded but unchambered and with the safety switched on. Still, Timothy chided himself for his thoughts straying towards a violent direction. He wouldn’t need his pistol in this case, of course, what was he thinking?! Seems like being on the run has implanted a bit of paranoia into his head. He would have to pray at length tonight...

What Lies Below

Well, bonding with one's playmates shouldn't hurt.

What Lies Below

“You’re not a noble?” Ernst replied in turn after Osla had spoken, dragging his eyes all over her outfit in an attempt to renew his judgements. “A burgher then, the daughter of a merchant? Hell, you’re wearing plate and mail! That’s about ten silver down the drain in one shot, just for the cuirass alone. You must be rich,” he said as he finished another tankard of this delectable beer, admittedly little envious.

Of course, the prospect of Osla stealing the armor wasn’t impossible in Ernst’s mind, and he didn’t voice such thoughts out of common courtesy. Wouldn’t be good to offend the woman watching your back on your first impressions, right?

To what Tregon had said, Ernst simply asked, “What’s an ashen? And why’s a black dragon so special you can’t kill it with an arrow or two?”