#lachol

I’m indecisive so I’ll just do all of them.

A thin, scraggly cat.

It’s hers now. It’s her kitty. Kitty shall be fed and cuddled and loved. She’ll probably name it something like Kama (a favorite weapon of hers).

An old dog.

Oh, okay. She’ll care for it for a few days (she’s not a monster) but will probably find someone else to take care of the dog more permanently.

A mouse

I regret to inform you that she would just let it chill out and probably ignore it.

A puppy

Help what does she do with this. She needs to be stealthy. Puppies are not stealthy. Uhhhhhhhhh here small child you have a puppy now.

A really fat cat

Lachol has another cat now. Her name is Mochi. Far from threatening but hey.

A horse.

How the hell is she going to get this into her very non-permanent not-exactly-official home. Have a nice day, horse. What are you doing.

Two dogs.

Feed them and see if any of her friends want them. 

A baby duck.

Give it to Isidore, he likes birds right.

A kitten.

His name is Pocketknife.

A really large dog.

Lachol’s a small-town half-elf with wayyy too much chaotic energy for a small town. Her girlfriend (uhhhhhhhhhh checks notes) Tathareth, promised to help Lachol leave - get somewhere larger, faster, more cultured. On the night that Lachol left, Tathareth backed out, refusing to come with her and abandon her family, career (doctor, especially useful in a remote area) and lifestyle. Lachol, having the temperament of a lit match, was destroyed. She left anyways, screaming curses and vitriol.

Lachol gives you a lazy smile from her place at the bar, only half-paying attention to the knives spinning over her fingers. She arches an eyebrow as you approach, questioning and challenging you to speak.

Isidore is going over his books, cross-referencing and murmuring quietly to himself. His golden claws tap on a line, and he plucks a quill with the other hand to make a note, ink-stained scales unheeded. You stand in silence, trying to catch his eye through his focus. After a few moments of rustling paper, he notices your presence. Green eyes meet yours through round lenses, and he seems to be awaiting your query.

Vetrya perches on a railing, long fingers playing with the strings of his violin. He hums a few melodies as he tunes the instrument, and smirks to some unspoken thought. As he brushes a stray lock of black hair out of his eyes, he notices your presence and tenses slightly, then relaxes in the manner of a performer - languid and easy. 

Keli sits in the grass, white dress spread around her. She is picking wildflowers and weaving them together, and you can see a few decorations already planted into her dark frizzy curls. The dozens of crystals around her neck clink together as she moves, and you catch a glimpse of the largest, a chunk of rose quartz with black streaks through it like smoke. You clear your throat and she startles, whipping her head around and looking up at you with wide, scared brown eyes.

Harper is, as usual, in the marketplace, chatting amiably with some of the vendors. Eir wings are tucked neatly behind em, mottled feathers shining in the sun. You watch with a smile as Harper waves goodbye to the kindly rabbit woman behind the stall and turns into the center of the crowd. Ey notice you - a clear outlier among the crowd of Humblefolk - and ey tilt eir head, meeting your eyes with surprising determination for such a small and young creature.

Tritta doesn't notice you at all. She is headfirst in an engine, a complex-looking thing wrapped in coils of metal and glass that glow in strange and unnatural colors. Xyr ringed tail twitches as xe scrabbles in the depths of the machine, cursing in xyr rapid, chattering native tongue. Eventually she lets out a cry of success, and pulls herself out with an impressive show of force. Xyr whiskers are singed and xe is streaked with soot, but xe holds a still-smoking twist of metal aloft in triumph. Lifting her goggles to view her prize better, she catches sight of you standing in the corner of her workshop. Xe glares at you with sharp black eyes, and plants a small hand firmly on xyr hip.

She is a goddess of thieves, of mystery, of fleeing and freedom and the feminine night, of streetlights and silver and sharp-toothed smiles. People pray, sometimes, for luck, as they take a deep breath and feel a warm, long-nailed hand on their shoulder. Some pray for protection as they run into the dark, escaping the bloodshed behind them and wrapping themselves in a cloak of shadows. Some pray for vengeance, blood on their lips and the cool hilt of a jeweled dagger in their hand.

She’ll always answer. Whether it’s with a smile, a gift or a sudden, cold pain in your back, she’ll always answer a call.

1. Their physical weak spots

her back, probably. she’s extremely fast and nimble, but has no perception cause her wis modifier is trash - if you manage to sneak up behind her...

2. Their emotional/moral weak spots

She’s not good with losing loved ones. Therefore, she makes sure not to have many.

18. Things they’ll never admit

yooooooo it is! hi! people!

i’m bored someone talk to me

bored me = knives in things, and while i have nothing against that personally other people dont seem to like it so out of GENEROUS CONSIDERATION i will pause on the stabbing things