[Invite Only] Kings of Londenium

[Deleted]

STATUS

THIS IS OXFORD, SIGNING OUT

HP: 100% MP: 100% - EQUIPMENT - W.A. Longsword (1H) W.A. Tower Shield W.A. Plate Armor SKILLS - None Active - Words: 238 Tags: @dindeen Kumori Scoria Elkeid Tobin Notes: I'm out. Laters.

I'm tired, my head aches, and I wanna go home... The oil poured over his head had snapped Oxford back to his senses, the high-viscosity fluid slowing dripping onto the floor as it spilled over his hair. "Well played, sir. Well played." He admired how the clever Assassin had found a loophole in the King's orders, but did he really have to go and do literally rub it in Oxford's face? Really? Oh well. Like the food on Oxford's plate, the mood had suddenly gone cold (and it wasn't because Scoria was laying down ice puddles again). Kumori and Caer had gotten up and left, inviting everyone but Ragna to find another bar to trash take up residence in. A waitress came up to Oxford and handed him a towel to dry himself off with. "Ah, thank you." Getting the majority of the oil out of his hair, he went ahead and draped the towel around his neck as Oxford picked up his clothes. "That was fun (in a weird twisted sense...) I'll see you all later." Trying not to slip on the oil at his feet, Oxford slowly made his way to the door, sighing a sigh of relief as his feet managed to find traction with the ground outside. Hopefully, the group will let me keep my shirt on this time... He thought he heard some girls squealing somewhere before he pulled his shirt back on.

template coded by oxford of ET

[Tobin]

(OOC: Exiting Stage left. I mean no offense, but after reading your idea of vengance. I don't really want to be the centre of a revenge killing, easpically considering my suggestion was one of the things keeping the proceedings "fair".)
Word count: 287.

After feeling a tingle from the forces puppeteering his character, the dwarf glared curiously at Rag the assassin and, sensing an impending sense of "death in revenge for being made to drink" decided to follow the party and exit stage left, well aware that the festivities could only continue if he was following good company. But not before he dragged several items of food into his inventory and paid a tip of exactly 50 gold coins for the grand meal, perhaps it was what Toiken intended when he based the entire race of dwarfs on a certain subculture but a role he was happy to play into.

"Well, it's a pity about ya birthday parteh-" he glanced between the short samurai and her significantly taller assassin... Lover? Considering how close they were, they could be. He scatched his head and glanced back at those around the table and mouthed, adverting his gaze from Oxfords impeccably shiny and manly body as not to be blinded. "It was her birthday, right?" after the response his face would drop. "Oh. Fair enough."

The dwarf would pause long enough for Scoria to catch up and nodded, meeting his gaze with a firm, serious, filled what could be described as manly respect. Or perhaps trying to erase Oxfords body from his mind. “By da way, fantastic job, I couldn’t have done that mahself, ya a real man.” He then glanced at Elkeid, holding the same expression as attempted to meet her eyes, difficult by the heartly bust and his lacking of height. “an’ fantastic legs, ya a real woman- gahaha oh please, dun’t be killin' me” At this point, he was probably prepared to run for his life, to the Lands End.

[Elkeid]

"No…" Elkeid turned down the dwarf's request to sing along to a song she barely knew the lyrics to. It was one of those "love" songs from the 80's, and she felt anything but at the moment. Had she not been so frustrated, she may have piped in, albeit timidly. Speaking may have been something she finally learned to do when she was young, but singing was almost a foreign concept to her. Doing her best to ignore the dwarf using her shins as a musical instrument, Elk called for one of the waiters and requested a cocktail to wash the bad taste from her mouth. She was turned off from wine for now.

What was supposed to be a fun atmosphere was now one riddled with tension and discomfort, to put it lightly. It was almost a pity she couldn't get drunk right now, and even Oxford's "wardobe malfunction" did nothing for her mood. 'Why did he want to see Oxford oiled up by another man, anyway?' She squinted at the Mad King Ragnarok and chuffed. She was no longer interested in participating in this game, if it meant that the boy had a possibility of playing again, and did not trust herself if she happened to be king again. Heads would roll.

In the end, it didn't even matter, for she and Scoria were apparently not the only ones who had had enough. Kumori had risen and announced that he would be relocating to another bar, and when it came to extending invitations, Ragnarok was excluded from the list. "I'm in." The night was still early, and she would not spend the remainder glaring up at her bedroom ceiling.

She took a few sips from her cocktail and placed it, along with a handful of gold coins, onto the table. The fruity and sour blend of citrus and alcohol overpowered the taste of poor drink that lingered in her mouth, and gave her mood a slight boost. Good drinks had that effect, but so did leaving bad situations behind.

The Monk spared not a single glance for the former king as she got up from her seat and rounded the corner of the table, only to find her progress temporarily hindered by Tobin the dwarf. He seemed to be having difficulty finding the right set of "eyes." The muscles in her foremost leg twitched as she briefly considered kicking him, but remembered the Royal Guard and resisted. "...Thank you." The heels of her boots clicked as she took slow, controlled steps to the door, trailing behind Oxford, who was busy concealing his sexy muscular body.

coded by benetnasch of ET

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Words:
437

Muse:
Sour Times

Notes:
/flits off

Tags:
@dindeen, Kumori, @0x1dea, Scoria & Tobin

[Scoria]

Oh hey it was his turn to ditch the party. Alright. Something something about jagerbombs that Scoria needed to drink (but he didn't want to get drunk) and then stuff happened but Scoria was a little too busy throwing up to pay attention. He eventually got back and did all the things he said he had done before, avoiding drinking the jagerbomb just yet. He certainly would have, had things and stuff not happened. Namely, people actually aligned with his perspective. A small miracle, but somehow Ragna had managed to piss everyone off.

Good.

Scoria had absolutely no sympathy. He was vaguely surprised at Kumori, but he was starting to realize that the long-haired assassin was the type who just wanted people to get along and such. He didn't like people being pushed around, it seemed. That was a diametric opposite to Scoria, who pushed people around as his only mode of contact with others, but they still managed to align in certain situations. Alright then. Oh and apparently Caerbannog wanted his baby. No. She couldn't have it. Nope. Oh, but Kumori had asked him a question. "I'll catch up. There's something I need to attend to." Whether he liked it or not, Scoria did have some alcohol. The result was fairly simple. He was making bad decisions. His first one was to glare at Ragna and 'ensure' that the assassin left the shop. The second was to head over to the kitchen again and have a tilted conversation with that lovely head chef. Some money exchanged hands plus some other words and a nod of his head before he turned right around and headed out to catch up with the rest of the group. Tobin's praise didn't fall on deaf ears, as Scoria glanced at the dwarf, his lips pulled into a flat line as he tilted his head slightly. That was about as close to a smile as someone would get from Scoria.

Well, unless he was stabbing a Lander repeatedly.

-Backflip Escape Exit

[Ragnarok]