#perpetualshadow

[hammered-time]

Talk dirty to me

"How long can you hold your breath underwater?  Just curious.  Seems there's something on fire other than the hired killers in your house and I thought we might need to take a dip."

[hammered-time]

I'm willing to gamble.

2nd person gets: To own my character for three days.

"Better make it good, Ho.  You won't get another three."

[bearwich]

I'm willing to gamble

3rd person gets: To own my character for a week.

"So did you win or lose?"

[bitterveteran]

I'm willing to gamble

3rd person gets: To own my character for a week.

"Curious. And what exactly do you plan to do? I see there is much of your father in you, I would hope you would put it to good use."

[democraticrevolution-blog]

I'm willing to gamble

1st person gets: To own my character for one day.

"As you wish. I am yours for the day."

[justtheremains]

I'm willing to gamble

4th person gets: A French Orlesian kiss from my character.

"You sure you want one of those, buddy?"

[hammered-time]

@ The Real Asshole

Says the man who calls himself “The Anaconda.”

I wouldn't expect you to understand the nuances of romantic pet names...perhaps when you're older, my child.

[maintainingvigilance]

A Midnight Stroll [Nathaniel & Meredith]

Meredith let the door slam behind her. Andraste’s toes, what did it take for the Grand Cleric to realize she wasn’t a girl anymore? She wasn’t even sure that moniker had ever applied at all, but it certainly did not fit now! Gritting her teeth, she paused at the top of the Chantry steps to glower out into the darkness. “Knight Commander.” Her gaze cut to the left, assessing the young Templar who’d resumed his rigid stance near the doors into the Chantry. Rhoades, an orphan from Starkhaven with more brawn than brain, was the picture of Templar form, if one ignored the fact that he had his buckles on backward, and his sash was tied incorrectly. It was good that he was equally unambitious because he would likely be a doorstop for the rest of his Templar career. “See the quartermaster when your shift ends, and pray I do not find you so disassembled again.” “Yes Knight Commander! I’m so-” She held up her hand, and began the long descent into high town. “I don’t want excuses Rhoades, I want it dealt with.” She paused long enough to hear Rhoades resume his post before she began to ease her way down the stairs. She was a quarter of the way to the bottom when a new Templar came bounding down the steps above her. “Knight Commander! I did not see you leave. Shall I summon the rest of the squad?” Meredith ducked her head to contain the true breath of her annoyance. One…two…three…four… When she reached ten, she pivoted to peer up at the young man, her expression an unreadable icy mask. “I do not require assistance. I intentionally left you in the chantry because you seem to have forgotten where the Chantry is given that your prayer hours have been spent at the Blooming Rose.” Terrance flushed to the roots of his fiery mane hair and bobbed his chin. “Of course…my p-prayers.” Meredith arched a pointed brow. Her silence had the desired effect as Terrance raced (or stumbled) his way back up the stairs toward the chantry door as though his ass was on fire. Allowing a secret smirk of amusement, she turned to continue her trek back to the Gallows. Cullen probably wouldn’t like that she was marching about without an escort, but she’d become addicted to her midnight walks from the Chantry back to the Gallows. Rounding a corner, she dropped her hand to her sword hilt. Oh she had a fine handgun, but there was something invigorating about using her sword. It felt natural, and perhaps more important, swords were relatively quiet, meaning her fights didn’t draw as much attention as repetitive gun fire would. Apparently trying to be more inventive, the attackers dropped down from the roof this time, which was either clever or stupid. She laughed softly as her thoughts were followed by a sharp grunt-like scream. “Stupid it is.” She muttered, slipping her sword free of its scabbard, though she made sure to flip off the snap of her holster so she could pull her gun free if she needed too. This was why she’d started walking alone at night from the Chantry back to the Gallows. She’d missed the combat…the physical exertion. Her lips compressed into a thin line as she fell into a defensive stance that could quickly become offensive if needed. Two barrel-chested warriors pressed forward and she clocked the gear as she spun into a graceful arc. Some new gang determined to fight themselves into extinction apparently. Cries of ‘Invisible She’ pierced the air and she almost snorted. Who came up with their names? Was there a computing service out there offering emo names for the desperate and reckless? She pressed forward, relishing the synergy and tempo of the battle. Here she could be merciless. She slammed the sword forward in a wide spin, forcing her opponents to withdraw. In the next instant she blasted them with a flash of righteous fire. She practically purred when one of the attackers crumpled forward, her mana sapped. “Apostate!” However before she could lock in, the mage's comrades threw themselves in front of her, looking less stupid and more protective now. “Great.” She muttered, raising her sword, her attention so focused she didn’t see the rogues creeping in from the shadows to flank her…