#serpentish

The Fuzzy Bunnies || X

:// We’re headed into a Big arc, so I decided to create a piece and a playlist for our group ;v;/

Vash, the half-orc fighter

Madeline, the half-unicorn sorcerer ( @divinesouled​ )

Dema, the half-gorgon rogue ( @serpentish​ )

Armir, the abyssal tiefling warlock ( @hexquiisite​ )

Cyril, the aasimar blood hunter

        caught off guard ; sitting on the stairs outside the inn, hoping no one would’ve been awake this time of night but her fears are confirmed when a voice meets her ears.  eyes snap to the source, along with a dozen pairs more, and dema’s hurriedly trying to shoosh the snakes into their hiding spot beneath fabric.

         “ i dunno– i mean, i– ” idle panic in her voice, escalating slowly but only to rush her more.  “ don’t get what you mean.  if you’re talkin’ about the insomnia, then you can have it if you want it. ”

there is a muffled laugh, a product of unease and absent-minded observation as the man takes careful, silent steps down the stairs behind her -- save for the click, click noise of the toes of his boots. he’s pulling off morn leather gloves, shoving them somewhere under the fabric gathered about his shoulders. 

✘ || See into my muse’s past || Accepting || @serpentish

A slightly blackened tongue flicks clear across a thumb pad. Brushing against paper, eyes scan clear across a page before it flips to the next, and then the next. Hungrily does this tiefling read his tome, trying to read deeper into it’s meaning while perched - legs crossed - on a few stacked crates outside the inn he stopped by on the previous night. 

A pseudodragon nudges his cheek, the abyssal oblivious to the fact he’d dozed off. He digs the palm of his hand into his aching head, remembering the injury he’d suffered a few days prior. Gently does he take the purple dragon’s face in both palms, the two of them sharing a purr as he folds the book closed. 

“Perhaps a nap is a good idea, yeah?” He speaks softly, and the pseudodragon bobs his head in agreement. The man will test his luck again, hoping to not be turned out for a room this time around. 

✘ || 10-minute Power Hour // accepting // @serpentish

He’s genuinely grinning - ducking, rolling, even getting snagged in a snowbank. It was no secret the year was aging, and he’s never really been able to experience snow in this way. His sister stands off, pausing her onslaught aimed for her brother when Dema’s protest reaches him. Tail drooping, he drops his snowballs and crosses his arms in frustration.

“Ah - come on, you sour gummy worm.” He grunts, motioning to the snakes upon her head. “Join in instead of being a grump. Haven’t you had a snowball fight before?” Armir asks. 

                        “ oh yeah, heard about that. real tragic what’s been happenin’ in bastaird, but what can you do! i’m sure the acting king’ll have that place fixed up in no time. “ hopeful, but doubtful. it didn’t seem all that high on the list of priorities when ‘resurrection of a war-mongering tyrant’ was on the table. and pumat was far too polite to delight in the whispers of nobles, but he was certain many doubted sebastian even knew how to proceed with many of his tasks. 

There’s no flesh upon his face, and yet the goat’s skull seems to grin at her. Hollow, dark sockets gleam in the light, as he withdraws his hand back into his own pocket.

“My my, you drive a hard bargain. Is it the money? Or safety concerns?”

The fae’s hand slides free from his pocket, tapping the side of his upper jaw. That bottom jaw missing for as long as he can remember.

:// Killing Eve Starters // Accepting // @serpentish

Her voice piques his interest, and Armir leaves the room - stepping in as his horns are first to peek around the corner. He grins, a small snicker leaving his mouth.

Such jobs like these were hardly difficult. To scale walls and crawl into places he shouldn’t be. To sneak and steal high valued items. Blackmail wasn’t really his style, but he was getting paid a good deal to take and deliver this item to his employer. What his employer planned to do with it was none of his concern, Malachi was just in it for the money.

Slowly the spider crawled across the ceiling, ever so careful. Ever so soundless, while inwardly scoffing at the awful decor. Of course the rich idiot he was stealing from had no taste, he might steal a few other things. This was going to be the easiest job-

Oh...