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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Mynx

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Everything posted by Mynx

  1. List of Games: Werewolf I Theme: Standard game. GL: Mynx OOC Thread Game Thread Werewolf II Theme: Mid-Atlantic, early 1700s GL: Patrick OOC Thread Game Thread Werewolf III Theme: Lord of the Rings books GL: Tanny OOC Thread Game Thread Proposed Game Themes: Welcome to Night Vale Saw Franchise Reality TV Show
  2. Even a man who is pure of heart And says his prayers by night May still become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms And the moon shines full and bright. Once upon a time, Werewolf hunts were common here. They took many shapes and forms, and it wasn't always a lycanthrope we hunted, but they were wolves nonetheless. It's high time to bring them back, I think, and safer all around to just start from scratch. So. This is going to be the new Werewolf thread. It is here that all questions can be asked and answered, the list of games is kept, and various other odds and ends. For the sake of posterity, here are links to the old Index, Werewolf Q&A, and the old Rules, but they are no longer gospel, and we will be starting back at Game One. The Rules: Players: Game Leader (GL) Villagers Wolves Seer Baner Villagers are the default and necessary for any game. The number of Wolves, and whether or not a game has a Seer and/or Baner is dependent on the number of players. The GL runs the game, plays NPCs as necessary, and is the only one who knows for a fact who is who. Phases: The game is broken into a Day phase and a Night phase. Although the game always starts with Day phase, we will begin by explain the rules for night, first. Night phase is when the Wolves are out to play. When the GL declares it is Night phase, the Wolf or Wolves of the game must decide on a single target, the Seer must decide on a suspect, and the Baner must decide who to protect. All of these decisions are sent privately to the GL, who will reveal the results at the end of the Night phase. If the Wolves are successful, their target dies and can no longer play the game. However, if the target was also selected by the Baner to be protected, then the target will survive the night. If the Baner targets a lone Wolf, the same thing happens - no kill. If there is more than one Wolf, however, and the Baner selects one of them, then the chance of the kill going through is decided by the numbers: Two Wolves, One of them Baned = 50% chance of success. Three Wolves, One of them Baned = 66%, and so on. The Seer is informed of their suspect's true nature, be they Villager, Baner, or Wolf. It is up to the Seer to decide what to do with this information. Day phase begins with the results of the night, and so begins the lynching phase. Each member of the game has the chance to both defend themselves and cast their votes as to who they think the Wolf or Wolves are, all the while staying in character within the nature of the game. People are by nature suspicious, and Wolves are by nature conniving - there is nothing to stop players from hinting, accusing, or outright lying, and odds are you could end up condemning the one person who has been trying to save you. RP is strongly encouraged, with only a few requirements: The vote must be stated clearly at the end of the post in an out of character (OOC) comment. The GL must be informed of any collaborative writing or planning that takes place outside of the main game. Traditionally, simply including the GL in the emails or PMs is sufficient. If at all possible, you are strongly encouraged to find an in-game reason for casting your vote, and write accordingly. When the votes have been cast, the GL will carry out the lynching, and begin Night phase. End Game: The game ends when one of two things happen: Either the Wolf or Wolves are all lynched, or the number of Villagers equals the number of Wolves. For the sake of the final decision, Seers and Baners count as Villagers. These are the base rules. Within this, there are a number of variables and options on which the GL can decide: Length of phases: Traditionally, Day phase lasts 48 hours, and Night phase 24 hours. Revealing roles: It is up to the GL to decide whether or not to disclose a player's role upon death or lynching, though traditionally it can be more of a challenge to keep this a secret until the end of the game. The nature of the wolves and deaths: As already stated, a Werewolf game doesn't have to be about werewolves themselves. We have often played with themes to keep things interesting, and as a result the kills may not be in true death but simply in removal from the game. Continuation as a Non-Playing Character (NPC) can be negotiated with the GL. Allies: Traditionally, only the wolves are allowed to ally with one another, although the GL may determine whether players are allowed to ally in/out-of-game. All games must have two threads: a game thread, and an OOC thread to register characters, make out-of-game comments, and clarify any questions unique to specific games. The OOC threads are not to be used to garner votes (so no claims of "I'm a Baner and if you vote for Bob I'll protect you" or the like). If you have any questions, feel free to post here, or PM myself or Tanuchan. Let the games begin
  3. Havens, were all half-elves this mad? Would that winning all battles was as easy as deciding on the solution and waving a hand. Mynx rolled her eyes. "They went to war over the King's daughter marrying a commoner from the side I'm assisting, without her father's consent," she said. "That was how it started, anyway. Now there's a land dispute, and the boy's parents are trying to improve their station by having a princess for a daughter-in-law." It hurt her head to think too much about it, but she had given her word. "Believe me, if there was a simple solution I'd already have done it."
  4. "Squeak, squeak," Mynx muttered to herself, shaking her head regretfully. "I'm sorry, but it's not a matter of money." She gestured to the battlefield around them. "I gave my word to see this to the end and help my commissioners succeed if at all possible. And even with your fancy little sleep spell, this isn't a fight that's going to be resolved overnight. The way I see things, it's going to be at least another season before we can either win or get to enough of a stalemate to agree on a treaty." She bit her lip, not sure how to interpret Elrohir's unreadable expression. "Truly 'Ro, I'm sorry, but my hands are tied."
  5. "No, I-" Pulling a face, Mynx sheathed her swords and ran her hands over her face, not noticing the streaks of blood she smeared across it in the process. "Why does Peredhil need to be rescued? And why would you come to me to do that? Aren't you and your brother plenty capable? Or those bodyguards of his?" Holding up a hand before Elrohir could answer, Mynx shook her head. "Look, I get that you must be pretty upset, but if your father is in enough trouble that you lot can't help him, I really don't know what you expect me to do."
  6. That caught Mynx's attention. "You want me to rescue Peredhil?!"
  7. Mynx stared at the tall man in disbelief. Elf, she corrected herself. Peredhil and his sons were all elves, or half-elves, or something... She vaguely recognized Elrohir, but couldn't say if that was due to personal experience or a resemblance to his father. She did remember Peredhil, though more as legend than person. You didn't need to meet him to feel his touch and influence at the Pen. "...Right." She said eventually. "Well. Thank you for your interest, but in case you haven't noticed I'm a little busy right now." Nodding awkwardly, she adjusted her grip on her swords and turned back to the battle. "I do applogise, Miss Mynx, but maybe I wasn't clear about the urgency of the matter." Elrohir kept up with her easily, cutting in front of the glamoured feline. "I need to hire you today. Now." "You do realise I'm in the middle of something here, don't you?" Mynx snapped irritably. "And I would not be interrupting you if it weren't vitally important." "Then maybe you should conduct your business elsewhere." Mynx dodged an attack distractedly, stabbing the man in the gut with only a cursory glance to be sure he was the enemy. "I'm not just going to walk out on one commission to take another, and I don't care how much you offer me. Sorry, but try someone else."
  8. Another day, another dollar, Mynx thought, idly spinning a silver coin on the table in front of her. Another year, another war. Not that she should be complaining, she supposed. War was a lucrative business after all, and she’d garnered enough of a reputation that she could pick and choose her commissions to some degree. Maybe not enough to guarantee that she was always fighting on the right side, but she tried not to look too deeply into the reasons behind whatever battle was taking place. Even the most saintly of people could be convinced to go to war for the right reason. Regardless of cause, it put coin in her purse and gave her something to do. And moving from one of the mercenary enlisted to adviser and/or trainer didn’t hurt things either. Less chance of her getting her tail cut off again, and the years had certainly given her a wealth of knowledge to pass on to new recruits. But Havens, she was bored. Giving the coin another spin, she sat back and finished her ale, gesturing for another. Callous of her, maybe, to be so disinterested by war, but when the only thing that changed was the colour of the uniforms she supposed it was inevitable. So change careers, she argued with herself. Go teach magic somewhere, or find a dragon to slay. Find a challenge of some sort! And there was the rub. Not that war itself was boring, or that there was no stress to her current career path; it just wasn’t much of a challenge for her anymore. She was good enough that – if advising – she could usually help lead her appointed side to success, and if only training she at least improved the survival rate. But what little science there was to the art of survival in combat had long been exhausted by her, and no amount of blood in the air or hours spent between the battlefield and medic bay could distract her from what was becoming routine. It was time for a change, Mynx decided, tipping the barmaid with the coin she’d been spinning. Soon as this commission was over – no amount of boredom would make her renege on a contract – it was time to move on and find something else to do. Now to decide what that something would be.
  9. "That's a good question. I'd be interested to hear your tale about that, C," she turned to address the traveller. "I've met a few...things...in my time, but no succubi, I don't think..."
  10. Our worst fears lie in anticipation
  11. Stephen smiled as he heard Amareyha and Anileh chattering quietly among themselves. In order to keep them away from Mynx somewhat, he'd offered them a tent next to his encampment which, after some choice words from "Illonia" they had accepted. While he was having breakfast, his thoughts kept going back to the two, wondering what should be done with them. They seemed to be rather willing to follow ... but that was probably because at least Amareyha interpreted Mynx's presence as some sort of invitation. We probably interfered with them too much already, though ... maybe it'd be best to just send them back. When he'd finished eating, he decided to go and talk to Tanny about it. He briefly considered taking them along, but decided against it, wanting some relative peace to discuss it. Besides, even if they'd go anywhere, he'd be able to find them back quickly enough. He found Tanny enjoying her own breakfast on the back porch of her cottage. "Good morning, Wolf-Lady. Did you sleep well?" "Yeah. For the first night in ages." She grinned, "Come, get a bit more of coffee - I see you seem to have slept well too." She served him coffee and a slice of cake. "I even decided to make a cake." Stephen chuckled, and in spite of having already eaten, did not refuse a second breakfast - he had come to appreciate Tanny's fine cooking, and the cake smelled of fresh oranges. "Yes, it was a good night's rest. Thankfully. I think even Amareyha and Anileh slept." Tanny grimaced slightly, still not at ease with the idea of a wild empath anywhere near her. "What are you going to do with them?" "Me?!" "They're camped with you, aren't they? And you're a Ranger. And a Spirit." Her voice was serious, but Stephen could sense the grin behind it. "I'm just a Demon, so I'm surely not going near them." "Aaah, but you're Illonia's friend... that should balance their views..." He gave her a toothy grin. "Amareyha might be quite interested in knowing you better!" Flinching at the thought, Tanny murmured something like 'Gods forbid' before turning her attention to her breakfast. Stephen couldn't help but chuckle at that comment. "You know at least one Goddess you could probably convince to forbid her... " This brought a chuckle from Tanny, after which Stephen continued a little more seriously. "I was actually thinking that they should probably go back to their own world. Although since neither one of us could accomplish that, we'll probably have to ask Mynx for another portal." "If it gets Amareyha off her back, I'm sure she'll be more than willing to provide one. Probably more, for good measure." They continued chatting for a little longer before setting off towards Mynx's house. There was silence in Mynx's quarters, but soon both Stephen's and Tanny's keen hearing caught up faint metallic sounds coming from Mynx's backyard. Intrigued, both went round the house, and Tanny held Stephen's arm to stop him as soon as she saw Mynx. She smiled, sending in a very quiet voice, ::Don't interrupt her, Stephen. She's training.:: Mynx had all her concentration on the kata, eyes slightly unfocused as she went through the disciplined patterns. The contained force in her movements fascinated Tanny as the feline changed grips on the sai, going from defensive to offensive motifs in a smooth flow. With a final lunge, Mynx finally grinned at Tanny and Stephen, back to a resting position and bowing to them before summoning her robe of shadows to stow away the pair of weapons. "Good morning, Kitty," Tanny hugged Mynx. "That was beautiful. I should visit you more times early in the mornings." Mynx chuckled, shaking her head. "The problem being that it's not always I practice in the mornings - nights are also nice. Hello, Stephen." Stephen bowed to her. "Good morning, lady Mynx." "So, what brings you here this early?" the feline tilted her head, waving them towards her quarters. Tanny handed her a small package, and Mynx grinned as she smelled one of her friend's cakes. "I see you decided to start early in the kitchen today?" "Late last night, actually," she chuckled. Sitting in Mynx's living room, Stephen then brought up their problem. "There are still two cat-like creatures around which would probably be better off if they went back to their own world. We figured that, since you've already seen it and actually know how to handle a Portal, you might get rid of your worshipers and a potential headache for Tanny all in one go." The feline grimaced, having had to bear all their babble and worship for several hours until she had decided enough was enough, and sternly sent them away to find their place of rest for the night with her helper "Spirit". "It's never too soon to send worshipers home." Mynx stood up, "If you bring them to the Portal Ring, we can just do it and still have time for some fun later? Maybe you're up for a sparring match, Stephen?" "That sounds like fun. I'll see if I can find those two and get them." When he arrived back at his camp, Stephen didn't have too much trouble finding Amareyha and Anileh exploring the neighborhood a little. He announced his presence, and beckoned for them to follow him. "Come. Illonia wishes to see you." While he was certain that they didn't understand him, the name Illonia and his gestures were enough to get them to follow him. Not much later they met Tanny and Mynx in her property, at the ring of stone Portals. Stephen couldn't resist bowing to Mynx and grinning, "Your loyal servants are here, my goddess." Mynx shot Stephen a glare, and rolled eyes as Amareyha went on her knees, drawing Anileh down with her and whispering a short greeting prayer. Mynx sighed gently and waited for the prayer to finish, trying not to let her discomfort at the praise show. When Amareyha finally lifted her head again, Mynx cleared her throat slightly and began to speak once more in her worshiper's tongue. "Sh'ren, tarnaeia il'tra dae nare'chte urna."* (*"Priestess, it is time now for you both to return to your home.") Amareyha flinched at her goddess' words, feeling suddenly afraid. With a meek voice, she whispered, "Mi'rna, alt'ra ni en'ria? Firn'ae ma'sneria amatri naesi, en fir'tri astri nirm'ae alfra ne'rtik yarnia a'rmenn."* (*"My goddess, have we offended you somehow? We humbly apologize, but we will learn if you just allow us to stay at your side.") Mynx resisted the urge to smack her forehead, staring at the kneeling priestess with a slight frown. "Ar'linn afrena ans'ti urna, Sh'ren."* (*"There was no offense that cannot be forgiven if you but go home, Priestess.") She took a while to answer, but when she did, it was with the certainty in her heart that it was another test posed to her, one to verify the strength of her resolution and faith. "Mi'rna, ni'arne nare'chta urna. Ei Sh'ren'ti, ti'arne neirya fe talnirr y de'rka. S'aerne i lyrae ti'arnae, narlae esni k'ra nach'ri irr. S'nei, yerna allt'ra fryni'kra - ans ye'rnae urna neiry."* (*"My goddess, I do not wish to return home. I am Sh'ren'ti, exiled for life by your choice and decree. If I am to live in exile, my choice is to serve you here. If I cannot, then allow me to wander this land - but I wish no other home than yours.") Mynx blinked, before muttering a quiet oath. "Ya're nastri ae'rni. Er'ni ant'ra merni, y fre'nta enari ag'rane."* Nodding at her friends, she turned and went back in the direction of her house. (*"I will be back soon. Do not stray far from here, and do not get yourself in trouble.") "Why can't I just tell them I'm no goddamned goddess?!" Mynx growled, tail lashing. "I think it's wrong for you to break their faith, Kitty... Telling them you're not their goddess might potentially destroy their entire outlook on life. At worst, they may start thinking that everything they've ever believed in is one big lie and just ... give up wanting to live." "And what do you propose? That I keep this farce and accept their worship?" She glared. Stephen nodded. "There must be a way to reach a compromise. They must not be deceived, but neither should they have the very basis of their life taken from them. You can't just tell them, 'Hey, your faith is correct, only it's not me who's Illonia. Sorry about that, don't feel bad about it, I get mistaken for a goddess a lot, have a nice life.' There has to be a better way out." Tanny frowned at that, seeming to ponder. Slowly, a grin appeared. "Actually... the answer might be just that, Stephen..." "In that case you'll have to enlighten me, because I don't quite see it. Pun intended, so there." "Well... if they understood that Mynx is just one example of the many kinds of people we have at the Pen... that she is neither exceptionally powerful nor below the average of other Talents here... " Tanny searched for words to explain her idea. "They'd be scared out of their minds because they'd think they're the only two "normal" persons in a realm full of gods." "Stephen!" She actually glared him down, something that was expectantly lost on Stephen, and then went for a pinch on their link that worked as well as a physical one. "Hey, what was that for? You know as well as I do that I'm right about this." "Perhaps it would be a good idea to let a ... shall we say 'lesser entity' such as a Spirit guide them around until they've grown acquainted with this place?" Tanny grinned. "Perfect for you - you're the Ranger, after all." Stephen seemed to think this over for a few moments, then smiled slightly and nodded. "It would be interesting, for sure. Though it would help a lot if lady Mynx would teach me at least the basics of their language. You know, so I can actually express myself a little and understand what they're trying to say." "Mmm," Mynx said noncommittally. "I'm still not so sure about this." When they looked at her curiously, Mynx sighed and continued. "What you're proposing doesn't solve anything. All it will do is stop them from running around trying to exorcise every 'demon' they encounter at the Keep. It's bad enough being mistaken again for something I'm not, I don't want to have to deal with them falling to their knees every time I bump into them." "If they are to stay here, they need to be told something that does not cause them unending panic," murmured Stephen, and Tanny nodded. Mynx's ears flattened slightly. "I don't want to be a goddess. Even if we convince them that here I'm as normal as the next mage, you know they're still going to think of me as Illonia and question anything they see me do that does not fit with their doctrine!" The feline spread her paws out entreatingly. "Couldn't I just tell them they have a mission to spread word of their goddess' existence back in their realm, or something?" "It would be dishonest to send them on a false mission, Lady Mynx," Stephen shook his head. Mynx ground her teeth. "And this is honest?!" "It is the best possible solution, Kitty... you know that, don't you?" Tanny wheedled her friend gently, and at last Mynx sighed. "One of these days, Wolf... And they are your responsibility now, Stephen!" A little later, Mynx was trying very hard at Stephen's pronunciation. "Amareyha, Anileh, nis trellarrrfi taenrrrrkla estri y gafran trrrsa taerrrrkna."* (*Amareyha, Anileh, I will help you choose a treetop and build a firepit.) The two of them looked at him for a few moments, blinking uncertainly. The looks on their faces proved too much for Mynx, who burst out laughing. When she calmed down enough, she made it clear that Stephen would help them choose a suitable spot for building a place to live. They looked quite grateful, though still somewhat disappointed at having to spend their time away from Illonia. While Stephen was asking Mynx what was so funny, Amareyha whispered to Anileh, "Don't worry - I know just the way to stay close to the Goddess." ~ THE END ~
  12. Careful there, Brucy, Tony warned. People don't take kindly to seeing the guards being the ones that talk to themselves. "Damn it, that is IT!" Bruce snarled to himself suddenly. He didn't understand it, and thinking about it too hard made him fear that he was losing his mind, but Bruce had finally found the "source" of the voice in the back of his head. Bruce was no brain surgeon or psychiatrist, but now that he had a location he was finally able to concentrate on blocking the voice and impulses that came from that corner of his brain. (Now come on, Bruce...) Tony frowned. There was a wall that hadn't been there before. (Bruce?) Sighing contentedly at the silence, Bruce straightened his shoulders and continued about his rounds, now only subconsciously aware of the voice that had plagued him's struggles against its new prison. (Awww Bruce! Come oooon! I was only playing!) Bruce was so pleased at Tony's silence, he didn't even notice the much darker mutterings that lurked just out of reach. Kill...
  13. I like this It rings true with the way I've felt all too often *hugs* Very nice
  14. Tony watched Bruce struggle with the situation and let out a derisive snort. Pussy. You can't even handle a lockdown without having a fucking panic attack. Tony watched the way Bruce's hand clutched the shotgun whenever he spoke and laughed. You wouldn't last a day without me, Brucy-my-boy. Tony sighed and shook his head. "Shut up shut up shut up!" Bruce muttered quietly to himself, shaking his head to try and clear his thoughts. Where was that voice coming from?! You'd better watch yourself Bruce, people are starting to talk. They might be talking about me, but if I'm gone, you'll be eaten alive... ...I'm not the worst monster out to play anymore... OOC: Voting for Lord Panther - Thomas
  15. Pussy, Tony snorted with contempt at the back of Bruce's mind. He eyed the shotgun lovingly, caressing it whenever Bruce was distracted enough. He loved the feel of a good shotgun, the recoil against his shoulder as it fired, the target area exploding into a red mist, the wonderful smell of gunpowder... A rat ran across the corridor, eyed greedily by Tony. Target practice? As if he'd heard him, Bruce tightened his grip on the shotgun, rechecked the safety, and continued to recite the regulations to himself. Tony gave up trying to exhaust himself and settled back to watch contemptuously. Bruce was so infuriatingly impossible to hijack at times like these, when he was so fucking paranoid about sticking to the rules. Come on...Kill'em all...you know you want to... Agreeing with the voice in the back of his head - although that was a bit strange, even for him - Tony resigned himself back to watching and waiting. For now.
  16. A dark grin formed on Tony's face that was met and returned by Thomas. Slipping his nightstick from its holster without even thinking about it, Tony approached the still screaming boy and began to beat him. He thrilled at the feel of the stick connecting with the boy's flesh, listening carefully for the sound of breaking bones. Crack! Brilliant. There was one now. A rib, by the feel. The boy howled and tried to struggle away, but Thomas had him pinned by his shoulders and Tony had one heavy foot on the boy's ankles. Somewhere in the back of his head, something was laughing. If Tony hadn't been distracted he might have realised the oddity of this. If Bruce knew this was going on he sure as hell wouldn't laugh... Kill'im Yes. That was a good idea. Teach this whelp and all the other inmates a lesson. Tony doubled his efforts, unaware that he'd begun to laugh aloud with the voice. By the time he had to stop - that damned warden was on his way, better let Bruce handle him - the boy was a bloodied, broken mess. Tony wasn't entirely sure if he was dead or not, but by God that kid had learned his lesson!
  17. I think the biggest cause for contention here is the fact that the term that's being used isn't coming from any particular trend that originated in Lebos. I'm inclined to agree with using the term Sapphite because that fits the idea behind the term - Sapphos is known for her love poems to her girlfriend. Using the term Lesbian implies that the proverbial gay is "Easier to catch" in Lesbos than anywhere else, or that the percentage of homosexuals is higher there than it is elsewhere, which as far as I know is untrue. Plus, while us girls might be able to laugh about it, I can feel for guys who would find something like that much harder to let down. If I were a guy and in Dmitri's position I'd probably have done the same thing. We use plenty of terms taken from country names, but I think the difference here is that for most of the terms, they originate from a habit or trait of the *place*, whereas here the term originated from a *person*, but the place was still used for the term.
  18. OOC: Written with Tanny Officer Bruce Anthony Daniels started his day by checking on the inmates in Sector C. He paced slowly and purposefully, looking in every cell and banging on doors to be sure whoever was inside was awake enough for him to see their faces. Bruce kept this routine every morning: start with either Sector C or Sector D, and check on the inmates. Patients. Have to remember that. Patients. Regulations say that they are patients, and they're in their dorms and not cells. Have to keep that in mind. The change had been recent, and Bruce still resented his apparent inability to change the vocabulary. Patients, dorms, Director. Why couldn't he just keep those in mind? He frowned, ignoring and burying deep in his mind a cackling laughter. I really need to stop all that caffeine going into my system. Probably if I slept better I wouldn't hear this buzzing in the mornings. He went about his business, rattling doors and shouting 'patients' into silence if they dared to defy him this early in the day. Whether hospital or prison, Lupine Asylum had its rules and he was responsible for enforcing them. No one was to... His thoughts were interrupted by a scream coming from one of the cells. Checking its number, he shook his head. It was the same troublesome number C5; every now and then, he'd just start screaming at the top of his lungs and would not stop until in a straigtjacket and sedated. He's being too pampered, that's all. A pep talk would do him good.... He punched a fist against the palm of the other hand, and immediately froze as an evil grin started to surface; he put his thoughts under a tight rein. He will receive his usual morning shot, better call the doctors. Frowning, Bruce reached for the radio. While talking to the doctor on duty, part of his mind wondered again why those strange thoughts kept resurfacing; probably the caffeine and all those horror books he liked to read. Or did he? Sometimes he did not remember the stories, or even the book, but when he checked on his bedside table in the morning they were there, with a page bookmarked and even some notes scrawled in the margins of some pages. Stress. I really need to take it easy. No trying to take things into my hands, I'm just an officer. He smiled in a more satisfied way, resuming the pacing in the corridor. John Doe here, huh? And to think I might be checking up on him in Sector A soon... A feral gleam flased in his eyes, and a brief darkness clouded his mind. Bruce blinked, trying to focus his thoughts on his duty. New patient. Only that... Not just a new inmate. A FUN inmate! Tony grinned and began to whistle tunelessly. Tony refused to use the new terminology. Bunch of politically correct bullshit, really. And it tickled him to see Bruce struggle to relearn everything Tony made him forget during the night. "Shut your God damned trap before I come in there and shut it for you!" he roared to C5. The screaming stopped in shock for a few seconds, before it started up again. Tony laughed to himself and made his way to Sector D, practically skipping with his good mood. Maybe one of the inmates there will give me an excuse to discipline them today... Tony slapped his nightstick into his palm contemplatively. It's not like he needed much encouragement to (Kill) be a little rough with the inmates. Really, considering the things they'd done to be there, they had to expect there'd be(kill blood maim rip their fucking throats out) beatings. Tony blinked and shook his head a little. Bruce's paranoia must be catching, he mused to himself, before he resumed his tuneless whistling and made his way to Sector D. He had a feeling today would be fun...
  19. Digging into his pockets, Tug found a small honey sweet wrapped in wax paper in the depths of one of them. How long had that been there? Tug couldn't even remember the last time he'd had honey sweets. Nonetheless, maybe it would shut the baby up. With no thought about the potential of the sweet as a choking hazard, Tug unwrapped the sweet and popped it into the baby's mouth. Mercifully, the crying stopped. Picking up the child, Tug began to look around, trying to see through the blackness of the cave. He could hear Spot snuffling about the edges of the cave. Suddenly, the dog let out a bark and took off down a previously-unseen tunnel. Hoping it was a way out, Tug followed with the baby...
  20. "I don't suppose textbooks count?" Tanny looked up and thumped her tail excitedly on the ground when she saw Mynx standing there with a small tower of serious looking books. "Exam time and all, you know," the feline grinned wearily, before producing a large cake with the words 'Happy Bird-Day Patrick!' written on the top in icing and joining the reading party. OOC: A very happy birthday, Patrick
  21. I know sometimes when you think you're hungry it's actually your body trying to tell you it's dehydrating and needs water. I remember some health teacher or another telling me once that "if you're thirsty you're already dehydrated." Not sure how that fits with the idea of comfort food but I know sometimes I've opted to eat because I can't be arsed/don't feel like water...
  22. Fear is paralysis; Confidence is action
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