12-19-2018, 03:29 AM
[align=center][div style="max-width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"]it's 1am i hope this post even makes sense
"I'm not sure if I should be reporting you for abuse or calling for a psychiatrist," does not sound like the best of introductions between two absolute strangers.
Then again, neither does a rock narrowly missing one's head, having been flung from the other's mouth. Was there a redo button? Some way to start over, with an entirely normal "my name is Orpheus, I think you're drunk"? He himself may not be the most normal of creatures, existing as a (mostly) fully grown lion lacking a mane, his fur stained as if with a deep red wine. No, he's really anything but normal, but Hawke? Hawke somehow manages to top that. Orpheus is standing some distance away, likely obscured by one of the hallucitrees the stranger had managed to conjure up in his mind. His head's tilted at that particular angle, the one that doesn't shout his confusion but whispers it instead. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" it asks, though a little smile on his face is saying something entirely different.
Okay, redo: "But you look like you've hit rock bottom, so I won't do either."
No, that was actually worse. Not surprising.
"Are you sober enough to tell me your name, at least? Maybe?" Orpheus takes a step closer, probably insulting the wolf's sensitive Christmas Tastes with the Santa hat he wears a little bit crooked on top of his head. If Christmas is a drug, it's a lot less potent than whatever this stranger's been having, and he hasn't keeled over yet so this is probably a fine amount of Christmas. Probably. A fine amount of alcohol? No, not so much. As he gets a little closer, just enough to take in the details of his appearance, the smell of alcohol seems to roll off of him. Instead of feeling disgusted, he mostly wishes he had anything like that to indulge in. These last few days have been oddly trying, but that's not the point of all this. "I'm Orpheus. This is The Ascendants. Are you looking for a place to sleep while all this wears off?"
"I'm not sure if I should be reporting you for abuse or calling for a psychiatrist," does not sound like the best of introductions between two absolute strangers.
Then again, neither does a rock narrowly missing one's head, having been flung from the other's mouth. Was there a redo button? Some way to start over, with an entirely normal "my name is Orpheus, I think you're drunk"? He himself may not be the most normal of creatures, existing as a (mostly) fully grown lion lacking a mane, his fur stained as if with a deep red wine. No, he's really anything but normal, but Hawke? Hawke somehow manages to top that. Orpheus is standing some distance away, likely obscured by one of the hallucitrees the stranger had managed to conjure up in his mind. His head's tilted at that particular angle, the one that doesn't shout his confusion but whispers it instead. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" it asks, though a little smile on his face is saying something entirely different.
Okay, redo: "But you look like you've hit rock bottom, so I won't do either."
No, that was actually worse. Not surprising.
"Are you sober enough to tell me your name, at least? Maybe?" Orpheus takes a step closer, probably insulting the wolf's sensitive Christmas Tastes with the Santa hat he wears a little bit crooked on top of his head. If Christmas is a drug, it's a lot less potent than whatever this stranger's been having, and he hasn't keeled over yet so this is probably a fine amount of Christmas. Probably. A fine amount of alcohol? No, not so much. As he gets a little closer, just enough to take in the details of his appearance, the smell of alcohol seems to roll off of him. Instead of feeling disgusted, he mostly wishes he had anything like that to indulge in. These last few days have been oddly trying, but that's not the point of all this. "I'm Orpheus. This is The Ascendants. Are you looking for a place to sleep while all this wears off?"
[align=center][img width=300]https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/intermediary/f/c43c2c6d-b9e5-4952-a3d7-4db10fd90fe6/dcwzlwz-724bba54-d4ca-433b-ad25-a4a33df0b505.png/v1/fill/w_1175,h_680,strp/ded_lion_by_bluiestar_dcwzlwz-pre.png[/img]
I HAVE TROUBLES EVERY DAY BUT IT TURNS OUT FINE
[div style="font-size:8pt;line-height:1.2;font-family:arial;color:black;margin-top:-5px;margin-bottom:5px;"]｢ ❝ it turns out fine, and i fight to keep them all away ❞ | [color=black]biography – [color=black]tags ｣