“Hmmmm…” Considering his (mostly sarcastic) offer, Wessex adopts a cartoonish picture of thinking about the proposal before downing the whole drink in one or two gulps. It’s shockingly easy to do without a gag reflex or the burning sensations. “Done. I’ll give up my crown and come hang in Torchline.” Placing the glass decisively down on the bar, she makes a grand sort of gesture to the empty bar and pretends like there’s an audience.
“I do declare the Hollowed Ground a shithole and unfit for anyone but the Ascended. Let it be a lawless, fun place free from the Old God’s moralities and fears. It needs no Queen!” Tossing Neron a fanged grin, she hangs in a happy, ecstatic place for a moment before slipping off her perch. Perhaps that bump sends her back to reality. Or jolts some into her. She pops back up, a very different person than the one that just declared her home the wild wild west.
“Except… it doesn’t work like that, does it? I have to stay. To protect.” It’s a somber thought, sad for many reasons - the loss of a barkeep position, the necessity of protection, the abandonment of a true desire to explore. “I just want to see the world. Worlds. But no.”
“I do declare the Hollowed Ground a shithole and unfit for anyone but the Ascended. Let it be a lawless, fun place free from the Old God’s moralities and fears. It needs no Queen!” Tossing Neron a fanged grin, she hangs in a happy, ecstatic place for a moment before slipping off her perch. Perhaps that bump sends her back to reality. Or jolts some into her. She pops back up, a very different person than the one that just declared her home the wild wild west.
“Except… it doesn’t work like that, does it? I have to stay. To protect.” It’s a somber thought, sad for many reasons - the loss of a barkeep position, the necessity of protection, the abandonment of a true desire to explore. “I just want to see the world. Worlds. But no.”
The Wraith
the bright
the thing in the night
the bright
the thing in the night
Wessex
