Lightheart VS Chalupa

Skippy [Mercenary]: //That Keats motherfucker was so dang ol' pretentious that I almost didn't like Hyperion that much.
Skippy [Mercenary]: //I may be misquoting Keats, but, like: "I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the Heart's affections and the truth of the Imagination."
Skippy [Mercenary]: //LIke, duuuude!
Skippy [Mercenary]: //You motherfucker! I'm sorry, pardon my french!
Skippy [Mercenary]: //But come on, dude!
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): (The Romantics were all quirky, in their own ways. Keats left behind medical training as an apothecary to be a poet, so he could unintentionally have lived out tired tropes about artists.)
Skippy [Mercenary]: //He was a putz. The holiness of the heart's affections! Romanticism does NOT have to be taken to such a ideological place!
Skippy [Mercenary]: //I think my vehemence is misplaced. Pardon me.
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): (It's fine.)
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): (Anyway, I think we'd concluded the tournament, with Moss the winner and no longer unknown.)
Skippy [Mercenary]: //Indoodle! Yeah!
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): (I'm trying to think of how to pick up from there, since you replied last.)
Skippy [Mercenary]: //Take your time. I am equally in thought.
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): (I have an idea, but it's not going to involve Skippy until later. Are you bored enough to sit through a small paragraph?)
Skippy [Mercenary]: //I was in AV club and Glee club and even the Chess team. I have been involved in over two dozen scholastic early reader's projects. The main problem with moving, every time I do so, is the fact that I have four separate bookshelves.
Skippy [Mercenary]: //Please, if you'll write, I'll read!
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): (That's good to know! All righty then.)
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): With the contest ended, the crowd dispersed. Luther kept close to the district above the common quarters of the city. The old dwarf did his best to keep Skippy occupied, and from chasing the carriage that held Theodora and Vespasian in clear view. The young woman was now without armor, and a hooded cloak lined with fur kept her from the chilling air. Her gloved hands held the rounded teal gem that had been pried from the crown. The thing itself sat, looking a bit less regal, on the High Elf's head. He was either oblivious to the cold or he did not fear it. The carriage was lead by three teams of great deer, their coats deep brown and their horns so jagged one would think they were sharpened. "Understand: I am not angry. At breakfast, I knew when you mentioned you would be spending the day with the young prince that you had other plans." He began. "Alexander was to practice at archery today, and from the earlier attempts at teaching you the sport, I knew you held no fondness for it. Your eyes are not as keen as if you were entirely of elven blood." Vespasian sighed. "I may be aged, but I am no fool, girl. While I have been surprised by the cleverness of your disguise, I know there is more to it, and your choice of prize."
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): "I gave Sir Amaryllis leave from his duties last night." The half-elf admitted. "He still has those... Nightmares, you know. Of the battles with the wights. I found him at the tavern in town, and he told me to take his place in the tournament. It seems that he forgot the suggestion." "I see. So you'd prefer to let him drown his sorrows in whatever swill these people call 'beer' and 'ale.' You do not set your people on paths of personal destruction. While you'll never rule, you're still a part of my house. I expect you to know how to keep it from falling to pieces, should worse come to worse." The carriage halted. "You shall explain your choice once we're inside." The king rose, and was followed by the bastard back into the temporary home. "Only one more night in this place... Thank the Lady." Vespasian muttered as he stepped inside, Theodora following his swishing robes. "... Well. He didn't look happy." Luther commented from afar
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): .
Skippy [Mercenary]: "Naw. Looked like 'e had hemorrhoids." Skip squinted, allowing him clear view of the King's features. His assessment was honest, and frankly, rather accurate. "Poor ol' elf..."
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): (The hemorrhoids of unchanging distrust and bottled up pain.)
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): "... Should we go see if she's all right or-?" Luther shrugged. Theodora had kept her eyes on her boots, mostly, as they passed.
Skippy [Mercenary]: //That sounds like Douglas Adams wrote it.
Skippy [Mercenary]: //Mostly the hemorrhoids.
Skippy [Mercenary]: "Look..." Skip turned to Luther, gesturing plaintively with his palm. "-if ya don't wanna kill somebody, don't go up into their house without askin'."
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): (I almost choked on a pretzel)
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): Luther was a bit surprised by the comment. "Right... Well, I guess we wait until she finds us." If she did. Vespasian had endured the taste of the common language in his mouth for the conversation, so it had been understood.
Skippy [Mercenary]: Skip henseforth sat back in their hiding space behind cover, a block away. He had no idea what to do with himself...he had ideas, rather, but failed to act on them in an awful paradox of instinct.
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): Inside the grand house, Theodora spoke with the elven king alone. A study was lit by various candelabras, and among the shelves of books Vespasian made himself at home. The two sat in cushioned chairs, but Theodora couldn't meet the eyes of her distant kin. Instead, she focused on a potrait on the wall. The meadow scene with flowers moving the breeze had been brought there from the palace. "You will tell me for what purpose- or for whom-" Vespasian placed emphasis on the last word, "You claimed one of the jewels from my crown."
Skippy [Mercenary]: #candelabras//
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): (I have no idea if I spelled that right or not)
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): (I can just see them hanging from the walls, on pedestals or on shelves, giving light in a rather nice room.)
Skippy [Mercenary]: //You totally did.

Skip, at this point, had resorted to playing with his Deagle. Clickity-clunkity-flip-spin-throw-catch-clack-click.
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): (Woot!)
Skippy [Mercenary]: //Me too. The visuals in your writing are always palpably real, but never in an unpleasant way.
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): (That's what I've been going for! Good!)
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): Luther watched his by now familiar show of assembling and dissembling his firearms
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): .
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): (Enter!)
Skippy [Mercenary]: //grand MOUSE
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): "I-" Theodora hesitated to begin. She ran her thumbs of the polished gem in her lap. "I met two people at that tavern, a dwarf and a rather tall human." "Go on." Vespasian wasn't going to relent. "They sought me out later, here. The dwarf... He had your own grandsire's staff with him, my lord. But it was broken." The High Elf was genuinely shocked by this. "Where do you think the jewel came from in the first place?" He asked. "It was put into the crown because of how dangerous that staff could be! If it is out there- and of all people to possess it..." Vespasian frowned. "No matter. Continue on, if you have more to add."
Skippy [Mercenary]: //Not sure what I could add there that wouldn't be flufferino.
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): (All right. I'll literally continue on.)
Skippy [Mercenary]: //"Go on, Candace." Insisted Vespasian, motioning in a small circle with his hand.
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): "They wished for the staff to be repaired." She answered. "You took two vagrants at their word." Vespasian placed his forehead in his palm. "And you are no doubt intent on returning it to them." His hand fell back at his side. "That staff is a threat to time itself, when not utilized properly. I can only hope this mess can be rectified, and that you will have at last learned to not entertain just any beggar that pleads for help." He stood up. "Their names and descriptions. Now." "The dwarf is old, with much gray in his beard. It goes to his waist. His hair is receding on his head, so much that it is only found near the back. He has many scars on his face, and eyes like Remus." "Blue?" "Yes. I believe he called himself Luther." "And the..." It made his stomach turn to even say it. "The man?" "Taller than you, grandsire. But not by much. He's very muscled and he has blonde hair and a shorter beard than the dwarf, but still unkempt. He carries many guns of strange make." "Probably smuggling partners." Vespasian theorized. "Off with you, then, Theodora." In no time, several armed elves were seen heading in the odd pair's direction.
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): Make. Calls himself Skippy.*
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): (I guess Vessy would be one of the more interesting characters to talk to. But in this alternate universe, not so much.)
Skippy [Mercenary]: //Whow. Nice! I really appreciate the content with no stead of verbose.
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): (I'm really glad you think so!)
Skippy [Mercenary]: Skip stopped messing, and stood in a blink, ready to take aim. The hand cannon at his side was pointed straight down, with the only hostilities being implied. "Hey. Hey, bud." He turned Luther's attention to the few blade-lobes, and squinted at them himself.
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): He knew by their appearances that this wasn't a peaceful delegation. "Did either of you run into a half-human at an inn just the other night?" The apparent leader asked, looking at a piece of paper before examining the two of them.
Skippy [Mercenary]: "Who's askin', cracker jack!?" Shouted Skippy, raising his gun in a sideways thug-ass gesutre, more of a momentary flick for emphasis than anything.
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): "We did." Luther didn't want the situation to escalate. He might as well admit it. "And did you pursue the lady here, with an antique staff in tow?" In response, he brandished the broken wooden staff. "We wished to have it repaired. I am deeply sorry that the means to repair it escalated so." "If only that could change the king's mind." The Wood Elf sighed. "I'll need you both to return with us for questioning." The staff was quickly snatched away.
Skippy [Mercenary]: //Did you already enter a reply? I had to reset my wifi, and I dunno if we're still connected.
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): (Yes!)
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): (I'll paste it)
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): "We did." Luther didn't want the situation to escalate. He might as well admit it. "And did you pursue the lady here, with an antique staff in tow?" In response, he brandished the broken wooden staff. "We wished to have it repaired. I am deeply sorry that the means to repair it escalated so." "If only that could change the king's mind." The Wood Elf sighed. "I'll need you both to return with us for questioning." The staff was quickly snatched away.
Skippy [Mercenary]: Ever belligerent, Skip cocked his pistol, and hid the beginnings of a smile. "Or. What." He intoned, barely keeping his tone from pleading.
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): "Or you'll face the full wrath of the elven king for endangering a member of his household on..." The guard read a line from the letter. "False pretenses."
Skippy [Mercenary]: With that, he outright grinned, a torrent of absolute 'YEAH' flooding through his system. "A'right! How many of y'are there!?"
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): This definitely wasn't the reaction they were expecting. All seem confused. "Eight." Luther said. "There are eight soldiers here." The dwarf sighed.
Skippy [Mercenary]: "An' ah got...sixteen" He patted the side of the massive handgun, certain of the clip's contents. "...Hey, uh, Luther!" He turned away to cavort with his pal in a low whisper. "Is sixteen more than eight...?"
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): "... Yes." He answered reluctantly. "But we're not going to use force, Skip. It seems like Theo has already got the brunt of things, and we don't need to make it worse." Luther then stepped aside. "I am as honest as anyone else. Our tale is strange but it is true. Take me to the king, then, if you must."
Skippy [Mercenary]: "...Buh...wait though..." Like a rhino who'd had blue-balls for the past 900 hours, he grunted and took a sudden knee behind Luther, slamming his fist into the ground. Each knuckle had imprinted a full inch, and he kicked up a small puff of dirt. With a long, gloomy sigh, he spun up and around, rapidly slamming the pistol to his hip with a childish fling of his elbow. "Fiiine..."
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): Luther was just grateful he was listening. He wasn't going to let this end up a massacre, if he could help it. The two were led back to the building they had been sent from, with most of the escorts surrounding Skippy instead of the dwarf.
Skippy [Mercenary]: On occasion, his arm would subtly start to move for one of their well-adorned blades, only to snap to his side. Every few seconds he glanced at the dwarf, as if to say: "LUTHER. LUTHER. DUDE. LUTHER. DUDE. YOU SERIOUS?" No less, he was silent.
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): The looks he received back seemed to say, "Yes, I'm entirely serious. Be patient." Inside the warm building, one preceded the others in the direction of a particular room. The guard returned without the staff. "You'll be questioned by the king." They were told.
Skippy [Mercenary]: "You already SAID THAT." He snapped, the look in his eye reminiscent of Al Bundy talking to a chubby lady.
Half-Elf Cleric (F/Fantasy RP): "I said you would be. Not by who." Was the answer, oddly calm. Evidently the guard was used to such dispositions. "Now step forward or we shall make you." Taking the initiative, the dwarf went into the room ahead, evidently where Vespasian waited.
Skippy [Mercenary]: Fists at his sides, he muffled a noise that could only be described as /very/ close to sobbing or strangling someone. With that, he followed suit.