Unlocked!
I don't think I touched upon Gukb's hair in his appearance section, actually, which was unusually silly of me. I guess we'll roll with the default goblin format: black strands, unstyled and long. I imagine he'd have a bit of black stubble too.
EDIT: I dunno why I quoted you there, what I had to say did not relate to the subject matter in any way.
SyrianHamster Member
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The fishes aint biting like they used to.
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Gukb shrugged. If he was going to die, then he figured he may as well die handsome; the lonesome road was becoming increasingly tiring, after all.
"Ah, very well," Gukb sighed, and climbed onto the chair. It was a slight large for him, but he did his best to sit straight. His reflection in the mirror opposite make him gasp. "That what I look like? By Helm's balls!"
The he-bastard had seemed dismissive of the goblin's less than savoury purpose in Estermere. Gukb guessed this sympathy came from somewhere, perhaps the man had lived a similar life to his at some point? Not that it mattered, in any case.
With a grunt, he moved to answer the question - though his eyes never left the reflection of the barber's hands. "Heard me many a tale, has old Gukb. Most of 'em involvin' heroic types," he nodded at the barber in the mirror, "ya kna, men in clunky shining armour goin's 'round and killin' everythin' that ain't got peachy tits or a pretty face."
As Gukb finished speaking, he let himself lean back into the chair. He was ready to move a moment's notice, though he doubted he'd be quick enough to escape an ill stroke of a razor already pressed up against his skin. The shears too, could probably give the back of his narrow neck a fatal wound if the human willed it. Though for some reason, Gukb felt that this was not going to be the case; there was a kindness in that man's eyes, and it reminded him of the preists of Helm who had saved him. The girl too.
"'Ow's 'bout yer? Heard anythin' that might be worth a tip or two?" asked Gukb, though in truth he was not sure if the ten copper pieces were enough to pay for the barber's services, let alone a tip.
"Ah, very well," Gukb sighed, and climbed onto the chair. It was a slight large for him, but he did his best to sit straight. His reflection in the mirror opposite make him gasp. "That what I look like? By Helm's balls!"
The he-bastard had seemed dismissive of the goblin's less than savoury purpose in Estermere. Gukb guessed this sympathy came from somewhere, perhaps the man had lived a similar life to his at some point? Not that it mattered, in any case.
With a grunt, he moved to answer the question - though his eyes never left the reflection of the barber's hands. "Heard me many a tale, has old Gukb. Most of 'em involvin' heroic types," he nodded at the barber in the mirror, "ya kna, men in clunky shining armour goin's 'round and killin' everythin' that ain't got peachy tits or a pretty face."
As Gukb finished speaking, he let himself lean back into the chair. He was ready to move a moment's notice, though he doubted he'd be quick enough to escape an ill stroke of a razor already pressed up against his skin. The shears too, could probably give the back of his narrow neck a fatal wound if the human willed it. Though for some reason, Gukb felt that this was not going to be the case; there was a kindness in that man's eyes, and it reminded him of the preists of Helm who had saved him. The girl too.
"'Ow's 'bout yer? Heard anythin' that might be worth a tip or two?" asked Gukb, though in truth he was not sure if the ten copper pieces were enough to pay for the barber's services, let alone a tip.
The Fated Fallen said
5am on a Saturday, sorry mate
Paid time and a half. Got Sunday too, at double time. It's silly money and the work isn't too bad. Still sucks that I have to do it, but that's life. Done the last two weekends, this'll be the third. Knackered, let me tell you, but I'm going to be one rich mofo by the end of it. Wealth before health my friend!
Overtime in this post-recession world of ours is like gold dust; ya gotta take it when it's there.
Anyways, night y'all.
Haha,
anyways, on a more serious note. Sorry professor, but I gotta get myself to bed. The factory calls, and it's a bloody 5am wake up for me. So this is a formal way of me saying "POST BLOCK :D"
But nah I'll get right on it tomorrow, I'm home by around half 2 (Her Majesty's time), so I'll get something up for then.
anyways, on a more serious note. Sorry professor, but I gotta get myself to bed. The factory calls, and it's a bloody 5am wake up for me. So this is a formal way of me saying "POST BLOCK :D"
But nah I'll get right on it tomorrow, I'm home by around half 2 (Her Majesty's time), so I'll get something up for then.
*Backs up with a 40 tonne arctic full of spam*
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP
Someone say we need more spam?
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP
Someone say we need more spam?
Gukb followed the lanky he-bastard, but warily. He was fairly sure the human was going to grab the nearest sharp instrument, and run him through. That, or make a nice jigsaw of his face. Every tendon in his spindly little body told him to simply run; he could do it, the he-bastard might be stronger than him, but he wasn't faster. He turned to leave as the barber reached for his tools of the trade, and started sharpening one of them on a strop.
"So what brings you to Estermere this fine night Gukb?" the he-bastard said, turning to look at Gukb.
"What brings most'a people to a place like this?" the goblin asked rhetorically. "Coin 'n' goods flow freely; there be fine pickin's to be made. Just old Gukb here likes them pickin's to be free of charge, see?"
He walked across the attic, the wooden planks beneath him barely creaking under his meagre weight. The barber seemed well established, and judging by the lack of bloodied instruments, quite competent at his job too. Gukb had never had a cut and shave, not from a human in any-case, and this remembrance reinforced the notion of his impending doom.
"Yer not gonna gut me, are ye human? Plenty'o ya kind 'ave tried, some nearly succeeded too," he said, putting on his best smile. "Goblin blood is a rank business, or so's I'm told by ye kinsmen. Would be a shame to get it all over yer finery 'n the like."
"So what brings you to Estermere this fine night Gukb?" the he-bastard said, turning to look at Gukb.
"What brings most'a people to a place like this?" the goblin asked rhetorically. "Coin 'n' goods flow freely; there be fine pickin's to be made. Just old Gukb here likes them pickin's to be free of charge, see?"
He walked across the attic, the wooden planks beneath him barely creaking under his meagre weight. The barber seemed well established, and judging by the lack of bloodied instruments, quite competent at his job too. Gukb had never had a cut and shave, not from a human in any-case, and this remembrance reinforced the notion of his impending doom.
"Yer not gonna gut me, are ye human? Plenty'o ya kind 'ave tried, some nearly succeeded too," he said, putting on his best smile. "Goblin blood is a rank business, or so's I'm told by ye kinsmen. Would be a shame to get it all over yer finery 'n the like."
Gukb closed his eyes as the he-bastard rounded the corner. Taking a deep breath, he waited for the footsteps to stop - that would be his moment; his lanky fingers tightened around Red Rust's handle.
"Oh have you come for a shave or haircut or surgery?"
Gukb smacked his his own face with an open palm. Idiot! How'd I miss the moment!? Out of practice, Gukby old boy!
"Ahem," Gukb coughed, clearing his throat. He buried Red Rust deep into a pile of discarded nonsense and pretended the blade hadn't been there all along. "A hair cut, if ye not be inklin' to open my throat. Been'a long time since old Gukb here got himself tended to by some proper shears." He paused to look back at the rectangular hole in the roof. "Oh, 'n er sorry 'bout the woodwork, I'll fix 'er up. Not wise for me likes to be walkin' the streets, real dangerous see? Seemed like me only option."
Was discarding Red Rust a wise idea? Suddenly Gukb cursed his inherited rashness. If the he-bastard swung for him, then it was going to be an old fashioned rough and tumble with teeth and nail. Goblins didn't fare so well in those affairs against opponents a third more their size.
"Oh have you come for a shave or haircut or surgery?"
Gukb smacked his his own face with an open palm. Idiot! How'd I miss the moment!? Out of practice, Gukby old boy!
"Ahem," Gukb coughed, clearing his throat. He buried Red Rust deep into a pile of discarded nonsense and pretended the blade hadn't been there all along. "A hair cut, if ye not be inklin' to open my throat. Been'a long time since old Gukb here got himself tended to by some proper shears." He paused to look back at the rectangular hole in the roof. "Oh, 'n er sorry 'bout the woodwork, I'll fix 'er up. Not wise for me likes to be walkin' the streets, real dangerous see? Seemed like me only option."
Was discarding Red Rust a wise idea? Suddenly Gukb cursed his inherited rashness. If the he-bastard swung for him, then it was going to be an old fashioned rough and tumble with teeth and nail. Goblins didn't fare so well in those affairs against opponents a third more their size.
The Fated Fallen said
I responded...
Mighta been a delayed double post. You never know with this place sometimes.
EDIT: QED
The Fated Fallen said
It takes an onlooker to truly give the clearest description
It'll happen with the EU referendum, you watch.
Farage's charisma against Cameron's, Clegg's (if he's still around) and Miliband's (dito) targeting of the all so precious "YOU MIGHT NOT GET PAID AS MUCH. STAY. ITS SAFER." subject. It'll go the same way the Scott's bid for freedom did. Hit the common man where he hurts the most.
Then we'll go back to moaning about how much the EU messes with our country but be mildly content with our little bubbles that we call lives.
There's some pop political psychology for you.
Still, here's to hoping a Communist revolution takes place after our employers finally go ahead and drop all compulsory weekend overtime to flat rate.
Professor_Wyvern said
I've dealt with stranger customers and occurrences.
It's okay, whatever happens, no one's getting murdered except Gukb. I don't make a habit of trying to kill other peoples' characters unless its "meant to be".
The Fated Fallen said
I'm pretty neutral myself. I like the idea of an independent Scotland, but not sure if it can be a reality. I'm as south as south goes, so it barely affects me so I don't hear much about it. You would be better asking someone far more informed
I'd of liked to see them make a go of it. I mean if it went bad, I'd of been fine, Hertfordshire is a long way from the Savage Lands. Still, what saddens me is that people were too scared to embrace something they'd probably fantasied about often; worried that their pay cheque would get an upset. It probably would have, but meh, whatever. I'm not Scottish, I wasn't there. It's just my observation.
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