A Torchlight style corgi pet! Not quite ready to dig into all the modding mumbo jumbo to get this in the game just yet, to say nothing of the animation and rigging, but hopefully someday soon!
[txt]: thor i’ve bene bad
[txt]: skip your meeting come leash me instead
[txt]: ome on we can totally sext during an avengers meeting
[txt: MY_COCK.jpg sent]
[Msg to: Chaton] You state this as if it is something new to me.
[Msg to: Chaton] There is still some time left, perhaps we should practice some literal restrain on you later.
[Msg to: Chaton] You are fortunate you are adorable during most days, it evens out the oddness. Also quite sure your rooster is bigger.
[txt]: thorrrrr come on
[txt]: you can’t hear me but i’m whining
[txt]: and i’m wearing your thunderkitty shirt
[txt]: you should’ve worn that to work
[txt]: hey are we at that point where we start inviting friends over for dinner parties
[txt]: not that i have friends
[txt]: but you have friends i could be the trophy wife or whatever right
He stood a little back from Rusty, hands in pockets, heart hammering in his chest. His mind was racing, telling him he’d made a mistake — it was too soon, too fast, it wasn’t the right time. But it was what he wanted.
He just hoped it was what Remy wanted, too.
He had to pause in whatever he was doing. To stare down at Rusty - tilting his head at Remy, completely oblivious to what was going on - and to… Think. This was so Logan.
This was… So Logan.
And so he smiled. Knelt down next to Rusty, ruffled his head, laughed shortly without even looking at Logan at first. As if this was, indeed, a conversation between him and Rusty. “‘Ey, Rusty,” He spoke to the pup, “Can ya tell yer dad ‘yeah’ fer me? Can ya? Ya seem like a smart boy. I bet’cha can.”
clint barton saying ‘hawk yeah’ whenever he agrees with something
As a bard, you are welcome anywhere in Orlais. Doors are opened to you with generous smiles, their wearers confident that no one would falsely pretend to such a title for fear of retribution. Your slightest request is immediately seen to. Your services are expensive and yet actively sought, and those who cannot afford them beg only to not have your displeasure turn their way.
One day, however, you will awaken. You will realize the smiles are false, and behind them lies revenge. At the first moment of weakness, your brother and sister bards will be unleashed upon you like a pack of hounds, and you will realize they are not your brothers and sisters at all. For all your fancy intrigue, you have spent your life creating nothing of worth. You have been swallowed by the web of your own deceits, and the Game of which you believed yourself master? It moves on without you, uncaring.
Remy is a former bard of Orlais; young and charming and talented both as an assassin as well as a pickpocket - though he prefers the latter. Murder has never quite been his thing, though if paid a fair enough amount of money - and if necessary - he is not afraid to spill blood, either.
Unpleasant events among his fellow bards drove the Orlesian to leave his beloved country and to cheek his fortune elsewhere. Now, he travels the world in hopes of mayhaps finding Antiva and The Antivan Crows - or mayhaps to make a fortune as a master thief in Denerim. Mayhaps to seek out the Grey Wardens and attempt to seek glory.
Only time will tell.
verse tag | verse song |