Trees, Colt has come to find after visiting the Greatwood a time or two, have more sentience than they tend to let on. Being flattened by one is surely not a good look regardless, and Colt's lips do quirk at the mental image of this otherwise fierce ancient being put on her add by a limb. Thal doesn't paint the story plain, and so Colt takes some creative license to assume it'd been the less intelligent sort of branch that did her in, the one that doesn't move, even when you collide with it. "Yeah, trees sure can be tricky," Colt muses around a laugh, tilting her head into her hand. The unnaturally smooth surface of her bald head which greets her fingers makes her quickly straighten up though.
Bracing for the dare, Colt finds no relief in the lack of bodily harm or assault on her footwear. The rancher has faced many challenges, plenty of which have been at the hands of men, but she's not inclined to giving away unwanted touch. Her gaze lingers where Thalassa directs it, watching for longer than necessary, a knot forming in her gut suspiciously familiar to nausea. "You sure can be a bitch," she tells Thalassa with a theatrical sigh, rising to her feet with a stomp. She can't pussy out from every challenge, not if she keeps picking dare like she's brave enough to take it, and maybe this is just proving how chickenshit she really is. Give her a runaway steer or a storm any day, not a disgusting man.
She grabs a shot of tequila from the bar as she stalks over, tipping it back in one fluid motion and leaving the glass on the bar. She doesn't swallow though, keeps it tucked in her cheeks as she sweeps the foul lips into hers without any preamble. She shoots the alcohol into his mouth with the seal of hers over his, the jolt of everything widening his eyes, but she holds him to her. The liquor, she figures, would kill most of whatever goodies he has to offer her. The rest is survival, and she ticks off the time in the back of her mind as she follows his retreats, and bows away from his grasp. It's a wet, sputtering release when she's finally done, and she has no qualm spitting on the floor and wiping the back of her hand across her lips with a thoroughness that speaks to her true disgust.
Stepping away, she grabs another tequila shot, practically gargling it as she sits back down. "Lick the earwax clean out of that woman's ears." Colt flicks a finger out, voice hoarse from the liquor burn still. She points towards an older lady sitting with what appears to be her husband, and the woman looks perfectly fine, thank you Thalassa, other than being wrinkled by age. She's inclined to tell Thalassa to beg the woman to let her clean her ears before doing so, consent and all that, but unfortunately that feels like it's own dare, and Colt doesn't trust the lady to not agree and leave the task at merely pleading to do it. Thal has already proven she's willing to get on her hands and knees.
Still recovering from her revulsion, Colt chooses, "truth," for her turn.
Round 6: no changes
Thal passed on her choice | Thal: +150 MP, 1 drunk
Colt did her choice | Colt: - 150MP, 2 drunk
Colt asks Thal to lick a woman's ears free of earwax
Colt chooses truth
Bracing for the dare, Colt finds no relief in the lack of bodily harm or assault on her footwear. The rancher has faced many challenges, plenty of which have been at the hands of men, but she's not inclined to giving away unwanted touch. Her gaze lingers where Thalassa directs it, watching for longer than necessary, a knot forming in her gut suspiciously familiar to nausea. "You sure can be a bitch," she tells Thalassa with a theatrical sigh, rising to her feet with a stomp. She can't pussy out from every challenge, not if she keeps picking dare like she's brave enough to take it, and maybe this is just proving how chickenshit she really is. Give her a runaway steer or a storm any day, not a disgusting man.
She grabs a shot of tequila from the bar as she stalks over, tipping it back in one fluid motion and leaving the glass on the bar. She doesn't swallow though, keeps it tucked in her cheeks as she sweeps the foul lips into hers without any preamble. She shoots the alcohol into his mouth with the seal of hers over his, the jolt of everything widening his eyes, but she holds him to her. The liquor, she figures, would kill most of whatever goodies he has to offer her. The rest is survival, and she ticks off the time in the back of her mind as she follows his retreats, and bows away from his grasp. It's a wet, sputtering release when she's finally done, and she has no qualm spitting on the floor and wiping the back of her hand across her lips with a thoroughness that speaks to her true disgust.
Stepping away, she grabs another tequila shot, practically gargling it as she sits back down. "Lick the earwax clean out of that woman's ears." Colt flicks a finger out, voice hoarse from the liquor burn still. She points towards an older lady sitting with what appears to be her husband, and the woman looks perfectly fine, thank you Thalassa, other than being wrinkled by age. She's inclined to tell Thalassa to beg the woman to let her clean her ears before doing so, consent and all that, but unfortunately that feels like it's own dare, and Colt doesn't trust the lady to not agree and leave the task at merely pleading to do it. Thal has already proven she's willing to get on her hands and knees.
Still recovering from her revulsion, Colt chooses, "truth," for her turn.
Round 6: no changes
Thal passed on her choice | Thal: +150 MP, 1 drunk
Colt did her choice | Colt: - 150MP, 2 drunk
Colt asks Thal to lick a woman's ears free of earwax
Colt chooses truth
Colt
Hole in your heart with some good aim
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
