#procrastin

Tagged by @vandrysse​

1. What are their thoughts on the Illidari?

He doesn’t think they made the best life choices, and doesn’t fully trust them. But he’s hardly going to turn away a bunch of able bodied demon fighting specialists while the Legion is attacking. It’s a lot like the death knights: yeah there’s a chance they’ll all go bug nuts and turn on everyone, but it’s a risk he’s willing to take.

2. What are their feelings about the death of their     faction leader?

Pro has wanted to see Varian dead (or at least not king) for a long time now. However, the timing could not have been worse. He may have been a shit king, but he was a solid war hero. Losing him at the start of such a big fight is no good. He feels Anduin is much better leadership material in general, but right now having an experienced, ill tempered ass like Varian beating people in line would be for the best...

3. The Legion is making hard-hitting invasions in several key locations. At the moment, do they still retain a sense of optimism that Azeroth will band together once more and defeat this evil? Or do they feel that this time is different, and feel a more pessimistic outcome will occur?

While he’s naturally pessimistic in general, he hasn’t given up hope yet. That said, things are off to a pretty shit start. Even shittier than when the scourge invaded…which isn’t good. But they got through that, right?

4. What’s one thought currently going through their mind?

What if I never find this kid’s family? …What if I find them in several years, and don’t want to let her go?

5. If they could ask forgiveness from one person, who would it be (names aren’t necessary), and what for?

Oh hell, he has a LAUNDRY LIST of people he should/would like to ask forgiveness from. Or has, but doesn’t feel it was enough. He also has a number of people who he loved who are dead he felt he let down, whether it’s true or not. His temper causes him to hurt people he cares about and he has a history of inadvertently causing a lot of heartache. So by now he just assumes he’s a burden on everyone’s psyche always.

6. Name three things currently in their pockets/bags.

Medicine, arcane dust, and an upsetting amount of baby paraphernalia. It’s only been a week, how did that happen? It happens…

7. What is one thing they’re constantly losing? If they’re  not the type to lose anything, what’s one thing they WISH they could lose?

He misplaces everything all the time. He’ll research something, and while he’s at it he knows where all his notes are. Once he moves on to the next project? Half of it will suddenly be lost to the twisting nether…He was lucky he was able to locate that milk transmutation...

8. What’s one of the grossest things they’ve encountered?

Performing dissections and autopsies are pretty gross. But he did have a crocolisk explode on him. That was probably the grossest thing. He also once, while transformed into a troll, killed a man by impaling him on his tusk, leaving a dead body temporary stuck to his face. That was less of an encounter and more, thrust upon him, however. He still hasn’t gotten over it.

9. If the local tavern was to name a sandwich after your character, what would it be called, and what’s it made of?

The Procrastin-Ate-‘Er. Four kinds of cheese, bacon, cucumber, spinach, sprouts, and tomato: The result of Pro starting to build his own sandwich, then Dorien intervening and adding Healthy Shit

10. What’s the best topping for a Darkmoon Dog?

Sauerkraut

11. If they had one wish, what would it be?

That he could just live a normal, peaceful happy life with his husband...and maybe that new baby...

The last wisps of a hangover still gnawed at the back of Pro’s eyes as he made his way out to Westfall. They were working on organizing an evacuation given recent events. And if there was a cause worth supporting, it was getting the hell out of Westfall. Besides, there were one or two elderly citizens of that shit hole the mage felt he owed some debt of gratitude towards. He wanted to make sure they made it out safely. Assuming they were even still alive.

Sentinel Hill buzzed with activity. In all his years visiting that pit, or living there, Pro couldn’t remember seeing so many Westfall citizens in one place. Though their numbers were supplemented by a healthy contingent of Stormwind troops. People were yelling, children crying, all punctuated with the rattle of carts and the occasional distressed squeal of livestock. Procrastin rubbed his eyes as the throbbing in his head intensified. What was he doing here again?

He scanned the carts. They were loading children, the elderly, and infirm onto wagons to facilitate their evacuation. He helped a man missing a leg and most of an arm onto one of the carts. Pro cringed slightly at the man’s grizzled stumps. He considered handing the man a business card, but this didn’t really seem like the time. With its last passenger loaded, the cart promptly started rattling off down the bumpy road, carrying its passengers off to safety.

Before he could continue his scan of the carts, a shrill scream pierced the din. A stunned quiet seemed to fall over the town as the sky darkened, but it only lasted for a moment before it was replaced with even more shrieks of terror as green meteors began streaking from the sky.

The next thing he knew Pro was engaged in combat, hurling balls of arcane energy at demons, dodging meteors, glaives, claws and teeth. A strangled cry of pain escaped him he felt a blade sink into his arm. He blinked away, spun around, and showered the demon with a stream of arcane bolts. The monster roared, beginning to charge the mage again, but was intercepted by one of the Stormwind guard. The demon clutched its blade in both hands, ready to bring it down on the soldier’s shield, when an immense bolt of flames collided with its face, courtesy of Pro, knocking it backwards, giving the soldier time to finish it off.

The soldier spun around, his focus darting over the mage’s head. He pointed with his sword and yelled something, before sprinting the other way. Pro mind frantically tried to parse his helmet muffled words from the din, what did he say? Incoming?

Pro rolled out of bed with a headache so bad he wondered if he didn’t sustain a concussion on his way home from...wait, what had he been doing yesterday?

He grabbed a glass of water off the nightstand. Dorien had been kind enough to bring him up a glass...along with an entire pitcher. And a bucket just in case. Pro smiled through the pain. He really did have the best, most prepared husband. Fortunately he didn’t think he’d be needing the bucket this morning. His head may have been pounding, but his stomach wasn’t too upset. However, the day was young... He glanced at the light pooling on the floor from the probably, oh, 11:00 sun. The day was young...ish. There was time.

He drank down the glass of water, wondering what happened last night. The guild had a picnic in the park? He broke open a bottle of wine and...surely he hadn’t gotten THIS shitfaced off of a single, shared, bottle of wine.

That’s when he remembered. He’d been tampering with his medication after Vandy gave him those notes. He’d forgotten to cross reference if there would be any negative interactions with alcohol and the new formula. An idiotic mistake. A headache and a half remembered night were getting off easy.

What had happened? He remembered the night quite clearly until about his first cup of wine. He seemed to remember something about wanting to steal a baby? Those elves and Mierette came over? Ebonrook was laughing at him?

His stomach sank a little. Aw hell, Ebonrook was there. That meant Pro was probably a huge asshole to him and somehow picked a fight with everyone present. The mage flopped back down on the bed with a groan, dragging the blankets over his head.