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I ask from the distant land of Skyrim. I've met a jester named Cicero. Is he your cousin or something?
Oh, from Skyrim, are you?Heh! Well, in that case…
Cicero is my dear brother; we lived together in a castle made of sugar and cinnamon. But our father sent me away, in a magical boat—
Nyahahah! Should I go on?
The wrinkle lines threw the mask off
Hmph! Tell that to the sot who made it…
[That was a submission; I wouldn’t be caught dead cosplaying.]
What are you, casual?
Casual? Oh, I’m relaxed as can be!I could place a bolt between your eyes -- casually and comfortably.
Heheheheh…
(Throws one of his wooden ornaments at Chester)
"HELLO!"
Oh! And I thought that old Hawkeye had starved by now.
A charming little piece…How grotesque!
Is this how the Lord’s mighty knights spend their talents? A-hah!Send another, why don’t you?
Happy Holidays! (I'm not dead.)
Between school, performing onstage, and Soulsgiving, I've had very little time for Tumblr -- and for that I apologize. Chester's ask-blog should be up and running again soon, and I have quite a few drafts for this blog. So stay tuned!
In the meantime, I bid you all a happy holiday season.
*ahem*
On my twelfth day in Lordran, a phantom dropped for me...
Twelve mushrooms marching... Eleven daggers dancing... Ten titanites twinkling... Nine bonewheels bashing... Eight Drake Swords breaking... Seven carvings calling... Six crystal straight-swords... Five Tearstone rings! Four magic scrolls... Three Lord Souls... Twin Humanities... ...and a bonfire near the Archtree!
You walk down the street at night in colonial America. As you walk down an alley, you see a man dressed oddly with a facemask and a large brown hat, leaning against a wall.
Oh, come now…Whatever you’ve been told, imitation is hardly the best form of flattery.
"I hear that there is a plague doctor that treats you quite well, what are your thoughts on him?"
Oh, that one? Hm! His taste in boutonnieres does him credit, but he’s far too stingy.
Doesn’t he know that generosity is the bread-and-butter of life? A-hah!
The mage sits on the other side of the bridge, staring oh so intently, almost as if he could stare through you...
The man in the black leather longcoat offers no response. He merely stares ahead, cracking a permanent grin…
For all anybody knows, he could be looking at nothing in particular.
