(That’s a good one, Meep, lol!)
Ōn’nyosh: He gently let go of Amber’s hand after kissing it, to avoid overstepping any of her boundaries. He notices her unease, but still ignores the others. He had no doubts that they would situate themselves. As Amber spoke, an intrigued grin grew on his face. True form? Well… he chuckles… I’d be honored to see it.
Amber: Nods curtly and grins. She closes her eyes for a moment, a cloud of purple smoke gathering around her. She is covered by it for a moment and when she reappears, she is in a scaly low-cut purple robe with a high waist that forms a train behind her while another portion of the scales cover her legs. At closer lookHer wings unfold and she soars around the room, talons out, eyes blazing, before landing in front of Ōn’nyosh. Hi.
Mirada: Rolls eyes. Whatever. Sits down and pulls out a book, “Instructions for Dancing.”
Ōn’nyosh: Watches Amber in fascination, then grins wide when she lands. He admires her for a moment, in awe at her beauty. Hello. And… damn, you’re gorgeous.
Amber: Growing more comfortable with Ōn’nyosh, tosses her head and laughs. Yeah, yeah, so I’ve heard.
Christina: Sighs and extinguishes her flames I really don't like any of you. She points at Mirada But I especially can't stand him.
Dane: Sighs lazily To be fair, the only one here that likes you is Lord Fuckbreath over there.
Ōn’nyosh: Laughs, then grins. It’s very true, though. You are just absolutely breathtaking. He overhears Dane and glances over at him. Well, at least ‘Fuckbreath’ smells more pleasant than ‘Shitbreath’. Speaking of, whose ass have you been in lately, because you reek of vomited paint? He bursts into mocking laughter.
Dane: Grins Well at least I get ass. Unlike you, who'd probably eat Satan's ass because he could. Speaking of, you smell strongly of rotten swamp.
Ōn’nyosh: Laughs harder. At least I get fucked. And, no, I’m not into men, but it’s nice to know you are. It means I don’t have to share. Looks down at himself. I might have gone through a swamp a few months ago, but otherwise no. Though, maybe it’s because I was walking by your sister.
Dane: Walks right up to On'nyosh and leans down to his level Oh, you still have to share. My tastes go any direction. Just because you feel threteaned when there's someone else to compete with doesn't mean I have to back down. He smirks, eyes narrowing And besides, if you really wanted to be rude to me, you'd have to try harder than that. On top of that, I'm sure that if you really disliked me, you'd be using any number of those weapons you have on you. Plus, I don't have a sister.
Mirada Looks up at Dane. Oooo, a kindred soul.
Ōn’nyosh: Snorts. Like I feel threatened by a guy who literally fucks guys. I pity the folks you’re with, truly. There’s no telling what flavor of shit is floating around between all of you. Snickers. And, no, I don’t have to try harder to be rude to anyone. The simple fact that you walked all the way over here proves that I got under your skin just a little. Also, I’m a jester, not an assassin, so fuck off. Pauses. Hm… so that’s just you then, okay. Overhears Mirada and laughs. I knew this fuck, points at Dane, smelled like vomited paint! He’s been up that guy’s ass, indicates Mirada, for the last six months!
Dane: Shrugs and doesn't respond, pulling a dagger from the jester's vest and raising an eyebrow
Ōn’nyosh: Snickers. That’s a prop. You know that, right? It’s just a chunk of wood with an illusion on top of it. I have a shit ton of those. Reaches into a hidden pocket on his hip and pulls out another dagger. It’s attached to the pocket by a cord. This is real. Puts it back in his pocket, then snatches the prop dagger from Dane, putting it back in its place.
Dane: Sighs and holds up the second dagger that On'nyosh had just put away, the cleanly cut cord swaying tauntingly at the jester Shouldn't have said anything, jester. And either way, wood or metal, I can kill you. Or anyone here, for that matter.
Ōn’nyosh: Sighs in annoyance. You seriously know nothing about jesters. We always carry two or more weapons on our person at all times. So, before I start stealing all of your shit, I suggest giving that dagger back and fucking off. I could give a shit if you happen to be the deadliest fuck here. You still smell like shit, and I can rob your ass fucking blind in less than a minute.
Dane: Holds up everything else On'nyosh had on him and cocks his head, leaning back down to look at On'nyosh Before you comment further on my scent, I think I should mention that the only scent I have is ice and snow. So think carefully about where that smell is actually coming from. And that I have nothing for you to rob.
Ōn’nyosh: Looks around at all of his stuff. I keep forgetting how much shit I have. Snickers. He then snatches his hat, a blowgun that had come out of his boot, and a rapier with an icy blue blade that had come out of a magically hidden scabbard on his hip, putting all three back in their rightful places. Afterward, he taps a piece of bread and it floats over and lightly bumps into Dane. He chuckles. Well, I do hate the cold, so, by default, I hate fucking ice and snow. But… despite that, this is actually rather fun. He indicates the way Dane is holding up everything. I haven’t been able to sort through my shit in months. Grabs his bag, which looks much like a doctor’s bag, and starts putting all of his dozens of props in it. Strangely, all of them fit with no problem. He then shuts the bag, grabs a pair of gloves and the piece of bread, stashing both. Can I have my dagger back now? He says this very casually, like he and Dane weren’t arguing just a minute ago.
Dane: Smiles slightly Nice rapier, by the way. He points at On'nyosh's hip and chuckles I'd suggest concealing it better, though. Very flimsy illusion. Tosses the dagger back to the jester
(So that's what it takes to get him to stop being a jackass for a minute!)
Ōn’nyosh: Thank you, but I’m not into men. Laughs. In all seriousness though, the illusion isn’t flimsy, it’s old. I’ve had this scabbard for… more than five years now. Expertly catches the dagger, then pulls out a new cord from his bag and reties the dagger to his pocket. But, to the unknowing eye, that illusion is as strong as ever.
(To a point at least, lmao!)
Dane: Rolls his eyes You may have mentioned that already. But I'm not really a man, nor am I a woman. He chuckles To me, it's weaker than tissue paper. But that's just me. And I get the feeling you were, at one point, a killer.
Ōn’nyosh: Narrows his eyes in feigned suspicion. You look male to me. Laughs, then shrugs. Well, that’s probably because you have powerful magic. I, on the other hand, can only use magic items. And, I prefer it that way. Snorts. I’m not a pacifist, if that’s what you’re saying. I have fucking killed before, but I only do so when necessary. And, when one is witnessing a divine war, one has a tendency of needing to defend oneself. But, as I said previously, I’m a fucking theif, not an assassin.
Dane: His right eyebrow quirks up Maybe you just see me as male because that's what you think you should see. When I listen to myself or look in a mirror, I'm female. Smirks I figured. Sighs Well, I'm sure you'd be an amazing assassin.
Ōn’nyosh: Shrugs. Fuck if I know. Snorts. Most likely. I’m a damn circus-born kleptomaniac jester, so I’ve, at least, got the agility and stealth down. Snickers.
Dane: Chuckles Fair enough. He shrugs calmly If you ever feel so inclined, you could work for me.
Mirada: Steps up and draws two swords. He offers one to Dane and the other to the Jester, quirking an eyebrow. Duel, gentlemen?
Ōn’nyosh: Snickers. I work for myself, no one else. But, if you want to work with me, I’m always open to more associates. Notices Mirada and snorts. Fuck off, Paint Vomit.
Dane: Shifts his head, neck popping and cracking That depends. Are you able to afford me? Sighs, and a needle thin sliver of ice 6 inches long appears right in front of Mirada If I wanted to duel, I would have asked, you overboiled fucknoodle.
Ōn’nyosh: Hums. Probably. But, I wasn’t meaning that I’d hire you. I was meaning I’d partner with you. I don’t have or need employees, but I do have many, many friends. Watches the ice form, intrigued. He then bursts into laughter. That was a fucking good one! I’ve got to remember that one! Laughs some more.
Dane: Chuckles You want an ice demon as one of your contacts? May as well perform my contract. Don't worry. It needs no magic. He takes out a Stygian ice brand and places it against his hand, burning a black series of vertical lines and circles into his hand. He holds the brand out to On'nyosh Take it.