if you don't terrify people a little then what's the point
The Sword was quite pleased with himself – the antics had heralded other obnoxious responses, and the antagonistic, instigating approach had gained a success. So much so that he completely forgot his own task in the measures to follow, lacking focus, distracted by mischief and devilry. The paintbrush didn’t hasten towards the target at all, and he dipped it further, soaking and burying the tool in the ivory bucket, intending to rise into further assaults. But then he was sieged in return.
Crimson hues flung from Kiada landed squarely on his furs, splattering nearly in a makeshift blood pattern, only to be followed by a blue rag to his shoulder, leaving a healthy blotch of cerulean. Aisha’s efforts cast directly into his beard, beginning to unfurl a telltale mess across his clothing and person; too large a target to be missed. And instead of growing irritated, vexed, or annoyed, the provocateur laughed – a loud, exuberant, ebullient rumble, exuding from deep in his chest, echoing and bounding off the stones. “One drink each,” he declared, based on their attacks, erupting into another volley of laughter, pretending to turn back to his own effigy.
Meanwhile, Kiada’s restuffing had gone well – and she’d be ready to paint, if not given in entirely to deterrents. Chulane, of course, much like Deimos, didn’t complete any at all. Aisha’s came along, and she’d be ready to fine-tune circles and centers. Belril had the best of all, likely because he hadn’t given into the temptation of idle, juvenile warfare, and only required a few minor touch-ups in order to ensure completion.
Thereafter though, the acting Warden lifted his paintbrush out of the white substance, and flung it haphazardly, in various directions. No aim was intended, save for the obvious ramparts towards the other three occupants (Belril didn’t receive a free pass), smirking and cackling all the while, the alcohol’s buzz working pleasantly in his mind.
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Deimos has been hit byAisha, Kiada, and Chulane! They each get one drink!
Kiada has stuffed her target and may paint it!
Belril’s target has been painted quite nicely and may make a few minor touch ups.
Aisha’s target has come out well and she may finish it up!
Deimos and Chulane haven’t even bothered to paint their targets.
In retaliation, Deimos has flung white paint towards every participant.
Crimson hues flung from Kiada landed squarely on his furs, splattering nearly in a makeshift blood pattern, only to be followed by a blue rag to his shoulder, leaving a healthy blotch of cerulean. Aisha’s efforts cast directly into his beard, beginning to unfurl a telltale mess across his clothing and person; too large a target to be missed. And instead of growing irritated, vexed, or annoyed, the provocateur laughed – a loud, exuberant, ebullient rumble, exuding from deep in his chest, echoing and bounding off the stones. “One drink each,” he declared, based on their attacks, erupting into another volley of laughter, pretending to turn back to his own effigy.
Meanwhile, Kiada’s restuffing had gone well – and she’d be ready to paint, if not given in entirely to deterrents. Chulane, of course, much like Deimos, didn’t complete any at all. Aisha’s came along, and she’d be ready to fine-tune circles and centers. Belril had the best of all, likely because he hadn’t given into the temptation of idle, juvenile warfare, and only required a few minor touch-ups in order to ensure completion.
Thereafter though, the acting Warden lifted his paintbrush out of the white substance, and flung it haphazardly, in various directions. No aim was intended, save for the obvious ramparts towards the other three occupants (
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Deimos has been hit by
Kiada has stuffed her target and may paint it!
Belril’s target has been painted quite nicely and may make a few minor touch ups.
Aisha’s target has come out well and she may finish it up!
Deimos and Chulane haven’t even bothered to paint their targets.
In retaliation, Deimos has flung white paint towards every participant.
DEIMOS
