shitposting rave 3: Dawn of the third rave

"No. You didn't."

 

I'm seeing how successfully I can connect this space to my usual backups, but - *Eliana flicks her fingers out, still obviously half-concentrating outwards and slightly glowing* I have a lot of experience fighting mental manipulation of that kind, and would gladly perform what preventative measures I can for my friends.

 

Valiska smiles. "Why don't we all join forces? We've dealt with similar things." She reaches out to Eliana. "I don't like that little jerk, but even he doesn't deserve that. Do you think we could send him packing?"

 

Give me a second, I -

*Eliana pulls her hand back until she finishes whatever she's doing and the glow fades, and then smiles apologetically* Wouldn't want to accidentally pull you into another plane while I'm trying to communicate with it. But yes - I'm not the most practiced at traditional banishing, but I am certainly willing to try. *holds out a hand*

 

Valiska takes Eliana's hand and then Ford's. "You," she says to the older Cronus, the one who's wearing the ugly codpiece.

"Undo what you did, or we'll send you right back where you came from. Whether or not we can do anything to you directly, we can manipulate dreamspace..."

 

Sheesh, you call yarrself a seatrroll and don't even understand boat puns?
Pics arr ushorely taken still at the barr, or wherever you met them. Like. "This troll's the reason I'm knot taking calls today *wink*" followed by hooting commentarry from yarr contacts.

 

He smiles, mildly amused.
"I take it that is your world's equivalent of presenting as a young Miss' escort for the night at an event I take it? Quite the peculiar courting behavior. What is one to do if the charming lady or gentleman you mean to accompany would rather the connection remain secret due to her, ah, particular business niche?"

 

Then they either don't pick up pre-ascension trolls in bars, or it doesn't count because a loot of things can be covered with just enough caegars, and that doesn't leave anything for the person paying to brig aboat, duh.

 

He winks, taking a sip from his mug.
"A true gentleman savors in silence, you know. And a lady does not kiss and tell. Luckily for us both me and my lady wife simply pretend to be one or the other."
He pauses.
"Though this specific thing she does take quite seriously leaving me with little options. Oh well."

 

hey, leavwe the fella alone. leavwe ME alone. he hasnt evwen DONE anything and youre attacking him for bullshit, made-up reasons.

one, i call myself a human. because im a human. tvwo, see, id GLADLY do that if the hooting commentarry vwouldnt consist of fivwe 'vwho givwes a shit', three 'thats obvwiously faked' and one lecture about not bragging about my sexual prowvess in public.

 

honestly, i dont evwen see vwhy you hang OUT vwith these people. they clearly hate us, hate YOU for no reason vwhatsoevwer. maybe itd be best if vwe did go back to vwhere vwe came from, the both of us, yknowv? go back to vwhat vwe had before. me and you against the vworld, against evweryone vwhos evwer done us vwrong.

 

"My good Sir, if I were you I would invest in better friends."
He seems impossibly disinterested in this conversation, studying his mug of spiced wine instead of the grey skinned and horned "human".

 

-Acheta pops back in-

What~?
But I was gone a while~!

 

n07 l0ng 3n0ugh, 17 533m5.

 

"I was aboat to say", Oneira remarks dryly. Then she imagines a bar stool next to Schuyler (white wood, and some kind of dark hide on it), perches on top of it, and conjures a steaming earthware mug of something that smells quite alcoholic.
"On second thought...", she adds after a deep inhale, and conjures a whole bar in the same colour scheme.

 

He lifts his mug in her general direction with a smirk.
"Excellent taste, my dear. Quite the sense for colors. Though..."
His brow furrows just slightly in concentration and a rich dark green velvet curtain drapes behind and over the bar.
"Is this addition agreeable?"

 

right, and im just going to pull an elevwen-pack of people vwho dont treat me like shit from my ass.

 

He looks quite honestly surprised.
"What that is not what happens when you walk into a salon? What a sad, sad existence you must lead."
He stretches his long legs out, crossing them at the ankle.

 

Oneira returns the toast. "Looks like a cross of my coffee shop back in Troll Scandinavia, and the one on the boat."
She nods appreciatively at the drapes. "Those look awesome. And complements the forest look."
"So, who here wants a drink? Got nonalcoholic as well."

 

I wanna try organic drinks!!!!

[Bit gives herself extra hands just to wave them all excitedly in the air.]