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1 mo ago
Current aight the depression has subsided, we good, i'm not choking anymore
1 mo ago
i think i should really just stick to rhythm games
2 mos ago
aight i guess i'm now part of the 99% of all games in this site that didn't finish
3 mos ago
If a tree falls in a forest and there’s no one around to hear it, is it the next Nickelback concert venue?
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5 mos ago
A pig just won the lottery. You could say he's filthy rich
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uhhh game's been inactive for like a month now, tho.
ETA: When Matilda's team reconvenes at the inn.
Name: Dixie Greene
Species: Human Demonoid
Age: Thirty-something
Gender: Female
In table test 1 mo ago Forum: Test Forum
i'm leaving my character to @wierdw or whichever he chooses
lol. i can't handle it anymore. bye


Henri surmised correctly... What a relief, and it looks like Aaron will have to expect a scolding from Silas, quite soon.

'Our product'?
This is whiskey from the Delvings' distillery? Especially with it being apparently eighty years of age, what a coincidence.
Ah... Silas poured him a glass before he could say anything. Well. If this furthers their relationship, then he has no reason to correct it.
Then, he was greeted with the question. He answered briefly after he poured the shot of whiskey in his mouth. It tasted of nothing, as with anything he would ever ingest. "I plead that you would, for His Highness' sake. There is good reason to believe that both these acts intend to spark a war. It wouldn't be good to panic the people." It seemed quite like common sense. The way that talking bear innocently pleaded with Fred too, it rings in his mind.
The rumours will begin on their own anyway, as Young Master's absence grows of note. Henri saying all of this now will only slightly hurry the inevitable.
These next few lines, coordinated with A5G.
As if it's a complete afterthought, Silas turned to Aaron again.

"Say, you haven't given Ser Henri any answers. Do you know where his companions went?"

"I do not. I have some men looking, but it takes time and they could be anywhere in the city at the moment." It's hard to correlate the sputtering and angry Aaron earlier to the almost meekly obedient one right here, but there he sat like a little duckling. <<
The answer disappointed Henri, quite. Not that Aaron was either petty or vindictive for sending out men, that much was expected, but the incompetency of it all.

Just across the door, a horse speeded past. What caught Henri's attention however was what the horse carried. He momentarily glimpsed with his metal-sense a spectre clad in oriental armor, with a long curved sword on his hip. How odd. It's not who he thought it was, right?
More importantly, the last rays of this day's sun were dimming beneath the door. He steadily stood up as he spoke. "Ah. It seems I've taken far too much of your time. Thank you for indulging me. Master Admiral." Their hands meet in the middle, shaken. Henri's hands in particular have always adorned these pure black leather gloves... so as to mask the material with which his body is made of.
What a radiance this Silas emitted from just this handshake. To a point that it physically irritated his core. Holy magic? It'd be best for Henri not to get close to him.
"Constable." Aaron hesitated to shake hands for only a half-second, before Silas' gaze fell on him.

"I'll take my leave now." He holds his arms out and the chests full of whiskey and vodka bottles jumped up to him like his own babies, and he promptly left the room.
Admiral Silas Delving... Publicly known as one of the strongest man in the kingdom, and equally skilled in command. Apparently, Aaron's brother too? They've only met once or twice, so it completely crossed his mind. Did he coast off of his brother's fame to get to his position? It'd fully explain his behaviour too. Well, that's just his guess, though.

The telekinetic hold on Aaron's guards wavers. "They weren't in any bodily harm to begin with, but I'm not submitting to an unjust arrest." He stands up with a slight bow. "Henri greets the Master Admiral."

He shrugged, for possibly the third time already. "I just wanted to know where my companions went. I didn't want to leverage the fact that Ser Aaron ignored His Highness' Royal Seal." Even with his eyes closed, he could expect a change in Silas' expression. It's that much of a grave offence.

"You must have heard it too, right? The incident at the mausoleum earlier. Those were His Highness' people employed to investigate the attempt on His life, you know? The Young Master's kidnapping as well. Whiskey?" Henri offers the whiskey bottle in his hand.
Henri leaned at his chair and shrugged. "Now, now. Don't just spout typical villain lines. I didn't threaten you with anything." He then glanced at the guards. "Gentlemen. There's been a change in command, you all now work under me." This is a lie. "Kneel." Their armors begin to grow heavy, pulling them towards the ground and truly forcing them to kneel. "You too, Aaron." The Delving's chair shoves itself forward, slamming on Aaron's knees and making him sit. Henri then flicks Aaron's sword downward at the same time, taking advantage of the imbalance in his stance, to disarm him.

What a mess. Is this how the Delving deals with opposition? Someone like him shouldn't have been a noble to begin with... Unless there's someone backing him. Henri squinted.

"I suppose you weren't fully at fault if you chose to ignore the Seal... Hmm. With how steadfast your guards were," case in point, Henri's own interaction with them minutes ago, "they must have tried to lie to get into the mausoleum, did they not? Everyone just wants to take the easiest path." He shrugged, again.
"So am I. Thus, tell me where they are, Aaron. I'm not against your side, you know? For the sin of injuring royal guards, I'll be dealing with them myself."
Henri slapped the desk. This guy, seriously... "Tch. Obviously I'm not here as an imperial tutor, if the one I aim to teach has been missing for a week." He side-eye glared at this blond oaf. "I'm here under the direct employ of His Highness to investigate the kidnapping of the Young Master and the attempt on His Highness' life." No, he's only entasked to bring back the Young Master, but if he were to guess what excuse Jazdia's team gave the guards, it'd probably be somewhere along these lines, or at least the part about investigating just the assassination attempt.

"Those three probably said the same thing, right? No, it makes complete sense that you didn't believe them, since Matilda wasn't there." He leaned back from his chair, holding the whiskey bottle upside-down, balanced on merely his right index finger. He notices Aaron's expression change with the mention of Matilda. Hmm. So it's like that, huh? "But then, she must've seen ahead of time and handed them the Royal Seal... Hm." He lazily pointed a left-hand finger at Aaron. "Did that Yvonne Rosenving injure your knights because you chose to ignore even His Highness' Royal Seal? You let your petty disdain towards Matilda impede His Highness' business?"

The lights in the room dim, and Henri's eyes glow a hot orange. At the walls of the room too, the animals whose heads adorn the walls as a trophy, their eyes too shone orange, and began emitting smoke.

The lengths he has to go through just to get a prissy noble to talk. This Aaron's been eyeing Henri cautiously ever since he went in. If he were to guess, it's this same unnerving feeling everyone gets when they meet him, when the subconscious just screams that Henri's not human. He noticed it from Jazdia too.
If it's to speed up this farce, then Henri shall reinforce Aaron's fear.
"Henri greets the Constable."
If this is one of those stuck-up nobles, he needs to to present himself at least this much. Although it was irritating, not everyone's as carefree about these insignificances as Antigone.

The door opens and closes by itself, away from Henri's preoccupied hands still carrying the three crates of wine. He did think the room looked nice, but he never understood this pride the humans took from killing animals, so much that they'd plaster their heads on a wall like this. Especially that elk.

Henri sets the crates down the carpeted floor as he sits. "Indeed. Would you care for some eighty-year-old wine? I have whiskeys here," he reaches in the crates and holds up a bottle of the whiskey slightly above the height of Aaron's desk, "or is vodka more to your liking? By the way, I heard about what happened in the mausoleum. Per chance, did it involve a blond elf and two teenagers? Please spare no details."
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