“Typical human”
Facepalms.
“I don’t even know, why are we still participating in their war effort. Once they will deal with the horde races, I am afraid that they will organize witch hunts on every “horrific beings”, including us and void elves.”
He pauses and starts thinking. Then he expresses his feelings with sorrow in his voice
" Perhaps the Sin’dorei brothers were right. We will never be accepted in their ranks as equal members. They will only benefit from our powers and then kick us off"
He turns to his fellow demon hunter.
“Come brother, let’s try to date some less xenophobic creature”
1 Like
Without bothering to look up at the demon hunter from where he is comfortably leaned back in a chair, lazily flipping through the pages of a newspaper at a nearby table. Cornelicus huffs amused, before remarking in a wry drawl.
“Ah yes. Declining to date someone, for the quite valid reason of them having a demon inside them, equals he, along with the rest of his specie. Are xenophobic, and hates that person and his kind to the degree they are going to bring forth pitchforks and torches!”
He chortles while flipping through another page, going momentarily quiet while he reads something that causes him to hum curiously. After one final glance at the paper, he throws it nonchalant onto the table and turns to look at the demon hunter for the first time with a click of his tongue. Smirking, and with one brow slightly raised in obvious mockery.
“Pray tell, deary. Are all demon hunters as prejudiced and delusional as you? Don’t answer that, it’s a rhetorical question. I happen to know they ain’t. Cause I, compared to you with humans, have actually met ‘typical’ demon hunters. Far more amusing and comprehending than you. Though, in a way, you’re amusing. Just not in the way for what I’m here for. So, away with you deary, and try to cheer up.”
Cornelicus waves his hand in a shooing motion towards Shalim as a farewell.
2 Likes
“I’m not xenophopic or anything but you are a typical human… so no”
1 Like
Sahoenna moves through a town with a magical cage holding a Fal’dorei. Spotting Zymara she singles her out of the crowd without much of an issue… for some reason most people tend to avoid cage with dangerous mutant. Grabbing her arm she point at the creature.
“You , me , this thing. Dissection. Now. Drinks later.”
The moving crowd leaves Finklebert exposed, eating a late lunch of grapes and cheese. His imp attempts to grab at a crumble of cheese, but the cheese eases itself just beyond the imps incredibly short leash.
“Dissection? Let me know when you’re past the fundamentals.”
He takes a bite of the cheese, the gnome makes a face at the strength of the blue cheese before chuckling to himself.
“Afraid I’m not interested. Partly it’s the species thing, since I don’t really find Gnomes attractive - it’s not you, it’s me - but mostly it’s the moustache. What even is that thing? It’s almost as long as your arm, just one side. Moustaches shouldn’t be wider than your shoulders.”
“Hey. I just met you! And this is crazy! But here’s my number, so call me maybe! It’s hard to look right, at ya’ baby, but here’s my number, so call me maybe!”
“Quite the way with words; I am coloured impressed! So you have any collections? Books? I’ve been meaning to ask, and please don’t hesitate to stop me if I offend, but I have yet to see any gnomish instruments. Do you play?” The draenei sits and makes himself comfortable before sipping from his waterflask and taking a bite of dried meat.
‘‘I am certain we could spend a few rotations discussing the nature of the Light and the greater war at hand. I warn you though, I’m heavier than I look~’’
“I am very curious of everything you must have seen and experienced, a friendly date?”
“I am afraid I would break you! But we can share knowledge, little one. I was a great mathematician, philosopher, engineer and body builder in the ancient days!”
Martok squints and shakes his head “The last time Martok went out with someone with hooves, he cud not sit for days…” mutters something about warlocks and their nasty succubi as he absentmindedly rubs his backside…
“Sounds like the poor lad had a rough deal!” Modgar shakes his head, but promptly stands straight and firm.
“Chin up! A strong drink, and march on. Just like I’ll be doing as, believe it or not, ye not my type!”
“Okay, who brought Suramar this little bear cub and more or less shaved him?! This is some kind of a sick Orc joke? Or some Goblin’s trick? GUARDS!!!”
1 Like
“Don’t mind the fleshy Earthen… Yes… It is earthen , or rather what they turned into. And no , I can belive either. It would seem only our races are blessed with ability to age like wine. But enough of that dwarf.”
Sahoenna then takes Thyrellas for a lovely walk from Nighthold towards Jeweled Estate.
“I must say dear that Suramar didn’t change all that much during those 10 000 years it was lost. You must show me what did change however. On my part I will gladly show that Arcwine is not the only drink worth drinking . Azeroth has a bit more to offer.”
1 Like
“Room for one more on this tour? I’ve only been to Suramar during the war, and it would be nice to walk around without having to constantly spy on loyalist forces. I may still require an illusion, though, so I hope you don’t mind if I swerve a bit to avoid the guards. They’re remarkably adept at sensing those.”
((I don’t think a reply in video counts as In Character. This is a reply to Talraea.))
“You are affected. I have heard from another how this came to be and it holds as another warning to those who wish to wield power by those who wish this world harm.”
Terintha leans by an open window, a cat approaches and seeks comfort in the druid’s open hand.
“Seek help: while your mind is still your own.”
“I do not quite think we are compatible if I must be honest, but I might be wrong so we could give it a whirl.
I’ll bring the cheese, you bring the wine?”
Moushi gently closes a book. It’s covered covered in an intricate illustration of a crane aglow with red.
He takes a deep breath, taking in a moment or a sensation before taking in the suggestion of dating the elf.
He takes his time to look at her before simply stating, “what cheese will you bring? Your answer is the deciding factor on whether we are compatible or not.”