Raza
“Put it on the Ark,” Raza offers generously. “I don’t want to imagine all the things my wonderful patrons would try t’do to it.” And the subsequent clean up involved… no, if they’re indeed going to find a golden sex toy, it ought to go to the Ark. Better to be used intentionally and with great abandon than by her beloved, albeit utterly delinquent, drunks. Followin’ where he steps, Raza picks her way to solid ground as well, though there’s still some definite squelching going on, as watery much slides over her toes at every other step. “Thanks, appreciate it.” She eyes the big three ahead of them with a healthy dose of skepticism, she’s halfway through “What’s n -” when she spots something growing near their path.
‘S that…?” darting (perhaps rather foolishly) away, Raza finds herself squatting down to peer at a mushroom, face furrowed. “Might be a Magic Mushroom. Heard they grow ‘round here, but only ever seen ‘em glowin’...”
reppin' a district of obvious misfits
