#halldis

[scoundrelsfolly]

“Uh, I was drinking that.“

[Prompt]

Asher let out a loud 'ahh' as he polished off the drink entirely. Instead of looking at Halldis, however, he was making eye contact with some shady stranger off in the corner. Eventually the stranger got spooked and left the tavern in quite a hurry.

"Keep an eye on yer drinks, lass, I'll be back," he said mock-cheerfully, before heading out the doors with a determined stride.

[scoundrelsfolly]

“ would you ever take that dare?”

[Prompt]

“Come on... yeh should know there’s hardly any dare I’d back down from,” he answered with a sly grin. Still, he shook his head and took a deep swig from his bottle.

“But goin’ toe-teh-toe with that monster of a man? No thanks.”

[scoundrelsfolly]

❝ You’re always trying to scheme yourself out of responsibility. ❞

[Prompt]

“Yeh know how irresponsible I really am, Halldis? Do yeh really want me tryin’ teh help yeh out? Really think about yer answer, lass.”

[scoundrelsfolly]

"I don't think we're allowed in here."

[Prompt]

"Of course we're not," the Imperial replied with a broad, mischevious grin, "that's why it's fun."

[bolstertheranks]

"I know what I'm doing."

[Prompt]

"I would never doubt your knowledge," Thias responded with a shake of his head. "I was merely offering any assistance you may appreciate."

[tortulja]

"Is that supposed to do that?"

[Prompt]

"Hm? ...oh, no, it's not," she said with a small huff, making her ways towards the toppled headstone with the intention to right it again.

"Sometimes they'll fall over on their own if the base gets eroded, but other times it's because someone has pushed it."

[honortoprove]

“ why do i have to go in there?”

[Prompt]

“Yer the one that’s good with words,” he countered, furrowing his brow and crossing his arms. “Well.. kinda. Sound smarter’n me anyway... an’ I broke some stuff last time I went in so I can’t go inside anymore.”

[honortoprove]

“ you probably don’t want my help... “

[Prompt]

“Huh? No, wait -- I’d like yer help,” he called after her, waving a hand to beckon her back into the kitchen. There were streaks of flour across his forehead and the front of his shirt, clear-finger marks where he had wiped his hands.

“I ain’t ever baked nothin’ before an’ it’s kickin’ m’ass. Can ya tell me if I’m doin’ okay?”