003 // coffee's only a dime
[ Phone: ]
'sup, townies, it's Strider. Not the one with the beak and not the precious baby-face preteen one. Just puttin' out the call, what with all these recent alien shenanigans and swarms of shitty foam rubber monsters, plus my bein' bored, that I'm perfectly willing to work with ya here and there to try to help a few sorry asses properly prepare for life or death combat situations. Maybe spread a thing or two about the benefits of shades and never droppin' your poker face. Much like that great guru the Pickup Artist, I like to think everyone's got a chance to improve themselves and not die or misinterpret sweet shit as uncool.
Fair warning before anybody signs up to fly under the wing of your local king chaperone; badass and swag take hard work and commitment. Ain't got a sword but that's just fine.
[ Action: also known as why he is in such a good fucking mood and what else he's doing with it. It's not to say that Bro Strider has been spending time every day dicking around trying to get back online with the speed that took him a lifetime to build up to... except that that is exactly what he's been doing since Day One in Mayfield. Productive job? Serious investigations? Fuck that- he has to be able to kick six kinds of ass at a moment's notice. It's a way of life. One can imagine how pleased he was to open his special mail this morning. And Bro happens to know just how to celebrate it, too: by using his freshly regained flash-stepping abilities to cause shenanigans and let a select coolkid or two know that the status quo has just been properly restored.
TL;DR. All over Mayfield, strange little things are happening while someone gets his practice on and also just gets his kicks. Oh, did you just set something down next to you? Looks like it's suddenly somwhere else! Not missing- stealing does not fall into coolguy territory- but maybe on your other side. Possibly somewhere behind you. Something tapped you on the back? There may be an ironic neon-bright "ignore this sign" sign taped to your back. Very easy to remove. And it's really just a bunch of stuff like that in general- a very careful look into the vicinity will show a shoddily painted ventriloquist dummy looking in your direction.
Careful, it might just move. Depending on your levels of Dave Strider, it may be an omen of oncoming face-pappage.
Or, alternatively, Bro himself won't be impossible to see about town today, and he's yet to turn down conversation when he comes across it here. ]
'sup, townies, it's Strider. Not the one with the beak and not the precious baby-face preteen one. Just puttin' out the call, what with all these recent alien shenanigans and swarms of shitty foam rubber monsters, plus my bein' bored, that I'm perfectly willing to work with ya here and there to try to help a few sorry asses properly prepare for life or death combat situations. Maybe spread a thing or two about the benefits of shades and never droppin' your poker face. Much like that great guru the Pickup Artist, I like to think everyone's got a chance to improve themselves and not die or misinterpret sweet shit as uncool.
Fair warning before anybody signs up to fly under the wing of your local king chaperone; badass and swag take hard work and commitment. Ain't got a sword but that's just fine.
[ Action: also known as why he is in such a good fucking mood and what else he's doing with it. It's not to say that Bro Strider has been spending time every day dicking around trying to get back online with the speed that took him a lifetime to build up to... except that that is exactly what he's been doing since Day One in Mayfield. Productive job? Serious investigations? Fuck that- he has to be able to kick six kinds of ass at a moment's notice. It's a way of life. One can imagine how pleased he was to open his special mail this morning. And Bro happens to know just how to celebrate it, too: by using his freshly regained flash-stepping abilities to cause shenanigans and let a select coolkid or two know that the status quo has just been properly restored.
TL;DR. All over Mayfield, strange little things are happening while someone gets his practice on and also just gets his kicks. Oh, did you just set something down next to you? Looks like it's suddenly somwhere else! Not missing- stealing does not fall into coolguy territory- but maybe on your other side. Possibly somewhere behind you. Something tapped you on the back? There may be an ironic neon-bright "ignore this sign" sign taped to your back. Very easy to remove. And it's really just a bunch of stuff like that in general- a very careful look into the vicinity will show a shoddily painted ventriloquist dummy looking in your direction.
Careful, it might just move. Depending on your levels of Dave Strider, it may be an omen of oncoming face-pappage.
Or, alternatively, Bro himself won't be impossible to see about town today, and he's yet to turn down conversation when he comes across it here. ]