"Me 'ome is yer 'ome chap!" Roswell said. He opened the clamping door of his leaking apartment. The residence was a three-room apartment. Badly isolated and cramped.
Roswell threw his with snow peppered cloak over his seat. He then kicked some of his romance-orientated books aside with the tip of his shoe. The old crook gestured at his sagged leather cough with a beaming smile. "Dis we're yer can sleep tonoight," he said. The piece of furniture was so so old that your back started to hurt by only looking at it "Oi got some beers in de icebox. Some tibru (permitted sheep-milk) too," Roswell chattered on. "It's going to be great! Oi can show yer all me rooms, even de rooftop yer like. Oh maybe even de shoppin' district nea far from 'ere, and," then abruptly stopped talking.
The thief smiled wearily at En's gaze. "Roi.. Roi, fine... Let's get dat wound on yisser arm fixed first hu." Roswell said. Priorities priorities.
"Thank you again for helping me... again, Roswell," En said as they approached his home, the king holding his bleeding arm close to his chest. There had been another monster sighted nearby, and with a few soldiers already gravely wounded, he had decided to handle it himself. It was a fierce fight, the beast's teeth as large as his entire body, and though he won in the end, it didn't come without its price. "It'll be nice getting to sleep... at... your place... for once..." the king's words slowed to a mumble when he saw what humble abode was offered to him. The first thing that immediately hit him was the stench: a combination of uncleanliness and mold sprouting from wherever that leak was. And the sight. He was glad Clayton wasn't here because even an emotionless butler like him would weep. Surprisingly, though, En wasn't too horrified. He'd been homeless before back when he was younger, and sleeping in a tent and going days without showers or food was common. This situation was humbling, it reminded him of how good he had it right now. Looking at his... bed, En sat down on it. Stiff, but it was a place to sleep, and that's all that mattered. He looked at Roswell when he began to yap away about the area and all the sights, his own gaze holding a tremendous intensity that could only be matched by his feelings of deja vu. Fortunately, Roswell actually remembered the situation at hand! The king broke into a relieved smile. "Thank you. When I'm sure I can keep my arm I'll take you up on that beer."
PicklePantry
En Litari II
"Me 'ome is yer 'ome chap!" Roswell said. He opened the clamping door of his leaking apartment. The residence was a three-room apartment. Badly isolated and cramped.
Roswell threw his with snow peppered cloak over his seat. He then kicked some of his romance-orientated books aside with the tip of his shoe. The old crook gestured at his sagged leather cough with a beaming smile. "Dis we're yer can sleep tonoight," he said. The piece of furniture was so so old that your back started to hurt by only looking at it
"Oi got some beers in de icebox. Some tibru (permitted sheep-milk) too," Roswell chattered on. "It's going to be great! Oi can show yer all me rooms, even de rooftop yer like. Oh maybe even de shoppin' district nea far from 'ere, and," then abruptly stopped talking.
The thief smiled wearily at En's gaze. "Roi.. Roi, fine... Let's get dat wound on yisser arm fixed first hu." Roswell said. Priorities priorities.
3 years, 4 months ago
"Thank you again for helping me... again, Roswell," En said as they approached his home, the king holding his bleeding arm close to his chest. There had been another monster sighted nearby, and with a few soldiers already gravely wounded, he had decided to handle it himself. It was a fierce fight, the beast's teeth as large as his entire body, and though he won in the end, it didn't come without its price.
"It'll be nice getting to sleep... at... your place... for once..." the king's words slowed to a mumble when he saw what humble abode was offered to him. The first thing that immediately hit him was the stench: a combination of uncleanliness and mold sprouting from wherever that leak was. And the sight. He was glad Clayton wasn't here because even an emotionless butler like him would weep.
Surprisingly, though, En wasn't too horrified. He'd been homeless before back when he was younger, and sleeping in a tent and going days without showers or food was common. This situation was humbling, it reminded him of how good he had it right now.
Looking at his... bed, En sat down on it. Stiff, but it was a place to sleep, and that's all that mattered. He looked at Roswell when he began to yap away about the area and all the sights, his own gaze holding a tremendous intensity that could only be matched by his feelings of deja vu. Fortunately, Roswell actually remembered the situation at hand! The king broke into a relieved smile. "Thank you. When I'm sure I can keep my arm I'll take you up on that beer."
3 years, 4 months ago