Post by Tobin on May 29, 2014 1:44:05 GMT
Word count: 1035
The dwarf remained silent after his careless whispers, quietly massaging the wolf hair's ears before he dropped down onto his feet and shuffled back to his chair with a sigh. Under table he concealed his trembling hands, he had touched death and lived! This moment would be recorded within his long glorious saga! It would be said that he fondled deaths ears and lived! That or the inhabitation was letting his self-restrain slip, a cloud of pressure filled his thoughts as giddy and unpredictable emotions threatened to break the 'restraint" that he had expressed thus far. The facial twitches were concealed as the dwarf placed his face against the warm, yielding oak of the table as the arm encircled his head, outward appearances suggested that he appeared to seek a momentary rest.
-Man, all this tensions getting to me. Concentrate, I am Tobin and I, have control. Get a grip-
A soft breath left his lips as the mental cloud was pushed deep back into his subconscious and his head flipped back up. Rough hands combed through his thick hair as his lips twisted into a full smile, once again in full control of his faculties, though the dwarf seemed unsteady as he swayed and he forced out a loud belch. Even with the toxin control, he found it hard to think.
"Sorreh 'bout that, that piss water was repeating on me. I were not sleepin', honest. Aha" In a sense Tobin was similar to Scoria in that he wore a mask, only his was a defence mechanism to conceal a difficult to manage peculiarity.
The evening wore on further cards were drawn, the Ice Bitch drew the waterfall and though a initial show of terror flickered across his features, his gut hardened in resolve and made an order for two more bottles of Magners cider, an pear and cherry cider was made as company for the apple variant that had remained forgotten at the table. With a nod proceeded to knock back a bottle, immediately cursing himself for picking a carbonated beverage for the challenge as the gas bubbled up inside his stomach. As he downed the first bottle the dwarf struggled to release some of the pressure before the softer accent of the pear was poured down his pallet, causing him to immediately gag and the fluid bubbled up through the lip and bottle neck, causing the dwarf to slam the bottle down and cough loudly before he braced his spirit for the second round. For penitence he downed the entire bottle, even though the druid had stopped. This was immediately followed by another shot of whiskey in response to Oxford, dancing lights flickered over his vision briefly as his detoxification was pushed to its limits.
After the assassin pushed another drink towards the helpless wolf-hair Tobin flicked his hand up to pick up a card and he alone read its contents. The dwarf stared blankly at the card as his pale blue eyes struggled to focus on the image.
“Ahahah…”
Then it came. First as a deep, unsettling chuckle, a rumble barely audiable above the general absence of the bar, before his lips parted as the deep emotion rushed forwards and he threw his head back as he let a roar out in a completely unhinged laugh, very much despite himself he entirely lost himself.
“GAHAHAHWAHAHAHAHHAHAHH GAME OVER MAN, GAME FECKINGOVERWAHAHAHAHAHAHAH”
A palm slammed down on the table as the laughter subsided to a panting, puncturated by a unsettling, infrequent chuckle as he let his face fall close to the tables surface his grin wide as he lifted his hand. Pouring a mouth full of bailies wiskey that shoved towards the waiting Beast of Caer, the jack of spades revealed in the flickering candle light, the black shape seemed to grow to cast the room into shadow, such was the tense atmosphere. Even the guard let his eyes flicker away from the table, the closest he had come to showing emotion all evening
“Ladies, and men of gentle…”
Worst of all was the eyes. The dwarf gave a harrowing, piercing glare of light blue as rose at each contestant around the table; though he broke a gaze with individual people he was always giving the unhinged glare to someone. Everyone had the cheek to think he was being soft-hearted, gentle, perhaps even boring when he was the king in the previous game, perhaps he had been all of those things.
But now, god now there would be no mercy, no repentance as the dwarf lost the meaning of restraint within his mind. The time was mercy was over and the madness of the true king would be revealed as all around the table would offer their souls to his patron, the Satan in the ring of flame. He tilted his head back to project an aura of superiority and pointed at Caer as he spoke a singular sentence. His voice, a honey soaked English accent only lightly blemished by a hint of sing song irish carried an immense, seductive power, as if Lord Dio had risen once more to drive a cold wedge of terror within each of their ear drums, needless to say this sentence would seal their collective fates.
“When Caer drinks, we all, drink.” The dwarf paused as the sweet poison of his words slipped out of his mouth, an idle tongue flicking out as if to taste the evil atmosphere he had setup. The Ice Bitch? He was the diet coke of evil compared to the full sugar overload that would erase their memories of this night, forever. Perhaps in recognition of this humble fact the dwarf whispered, even softer. “Farewell.”
With that he grabbed his glass and knocked back a mouthful of strong whiskey before pouring the remainder of his glass into the central pillar of evil to commemorate his rising. Lord Tobin Strider, the true unhinged king of the drink, had arisen to expand his reign of terror upon this table. Indeed if Caer was the pain in the arse body guard before the final boss it was through her that the level one dwarf brewer would emerge as a true villain of this piece.
Boy did it felt good.
(OOC: This mightn't be up to usual standards, but I felt the urge to post immediately after I got this. I hope you all enjoyed.)
The dwarf remained silent after his careless whispers, quietly massaging the wolf hair's ears before he dropped down onto his feet and shuffled back to his chair with a sigh. Under table he concealed his trembling hands, he had touched death and lived! This moment would be recorded within his long glorious saga! It would be said that he fondled deaths ears and lived! That or the inhabitation was letting his self-restrain slip, a cloud of pressure filled his thoughts as giddy and unpredictable emotions threatened to break the 'restraint" that he had expressed thus far. The facial twitches were concealed as the dwarf placed his face against the warm, yielding oak of the table as the arm encircled his head, outward appearances suggested that he appeared to seek a momentary rest.
-Man, all this tensions getting to me. Concentrate, I am Tobin and I, have control. Get a grip-
A soft breath left his lips as the mental cloud was pushed deep back into his subconscious and his head flipped back up. Rough hands combed through his thick hair as his lips twisted into a full smile, once again in full control of his faculties, though the dwarf seemed unsteady as he swayed and he forced out a loud belch. Even with the toxin control, he found it hard to think.
"Sorreh 'bout that, that piss water was repeating on me. I were not sleepin', honest. Aha" In a sense Tobin was similar to Scoria in that he wore a mask, only his was a defence mechanism to conceal a difficult to manage peculiarity.
The evening wore on further cards were drawn, the Ice Bitch drew the waterfall and though a initial show of terror flickered across his features, his gut hardened in resolve and made an order for two more bottles of Magners cider, an pear and cherry cider was made as company for the apple variant that had remained forgotten at the table. With a nod proceeded to knock back a bottle, immediately cursing himself for picking a carbonated beverage for the challenge as the gas bubbled up inside his stomach. As he downed the first bottle the dwarf struggled to release some of the pressure before the softer accent of the pear was poured down his pallet, causing him to immediately gag and the fluid bubbled up through the lip and bottle neck, causing the dwarf to slam the bottle down and cough loudly before he braced his spirit for the second round. For penitence he downed the entire bottle, even though the druid had stopped. This was immediately followed by another shot of whiskey in response to Oxford, dancing lights flickered over his vision briefly as his detoxification was pushed to its limits.
After the assassin pushed another drink towards the helpless wolf-hair Tobin flicked his hand up to pick up a card and he alone read its contents. The dwarf stared blankly at the card as his pale blue eyes struggled to focus on the image.
“Ahahah…”
Then it came. First as a deep, unsettling chuckle, a rumble barely audiable above the general absence of the bar, before his lips parted as the deep emotion rushed forwards and he threw his head back as he let a roar out in a completely unhinged laugh, very much despite himself he entirely lost himself.
“GAHAHAHWAHAHAHAHHAHAHH GAME OVER MAN, GAME FECKINGOVERWAHAHAHAHAHAHAH”
A palm slammed down on the table as the laughter subsided to a panting, puncturated by a unsettling, infrequent chuckle as he let his face fall close to the tables surface his grin wide as he lifted his hand. Pouring a mouth full of bailies wiskey that shoved towards the waiting Beast of Caer, the jack of spades revealed in the flickering candle light, the black shape seemed to grow to cast the room into shadow, such was the tense atmosphere. Even the guard let his eyes flicker away from the table, the closest he had come to showing emotion all evening
“Ladies, and men of gentle…”
Worst of all was the eyes. The dwarf gave a harrowing, piercing glare of light blue as rose at each contestant around the table; though he broke a gaze with individual people he was always giving the unhinged glare to someone. Everyone had the cheek to think he was being soft-hearted, gentle, perhaps even boring when he was the king in the previous game, perhaps he had been all of those things.
But now, god now there would be no mercy, no repentance as the dwarf lost the meaning of restraint within his mind. The time was mercy was over and the madness of the true king would be revealed as all around the table would offer their souls to his patron, the Satan in the ring of flame. He tilted his head back to project an aura of superiority and pointed at Caer as he spoke a singular sentence. His voice, a honey soaked English accent only lightly blemished by a hint of sing song irish carried an immense, seductive power, as if Lord Dio had risen once more to drive a cold wedge of terror within each of their ear drums, needless to say this sentence would seal their collective fates.
“When Caer drinks, we all, drink.” The dwarf paused as the sweet poison of his words slipped out of his mouth, an idle tongue flicking out as if to taste the evil atmosphere he had setup. The Ice Bitch? He was the diet coke of evil compared to the full sugar overload that would erase their memories of this night, forever. Perhaps in recognition of this humble fact the dwarf whispered, even softer. “Farewell.”
With that he grabbed his glass and knocked back a mouthful of strong whiskey before pouring the remainder of his glass into the central pillar of evil to commemorate his rising. Lord Tobin Strider, the true unhinged king of the drink, had arisen to expand his reign of terror upon this table. Indeed if Caer was the pain in the arse body guard before the final boss it was through her that the level one dwarf brewer would emerge as a true villain of this piece.
Boy did it felt good.
(OOC: This mightn't be up to usual standards, but I felt the urge to post immediately after I got this. I hope you all enjoyed.)
