how do I tell all the Salvation Army bell ringers that I really respect the spirit of what they’re doing but their homophobic racist transphobic organization isn’t doing it for me
Ro’liath turned to the fellow knight, holding his coin pounch in a taloned gauntlet and seemingly studying it’s contents. Except there were none. He looked at Tevruden, offering a sheepish grin, “Got any uh, spare change?” He asked before turning his gaze back to the vendor whom was by now, tapping their foot.
Ro’liath opens his mouth and is about to go off on a tangent about the intrepid process it would probably take to bind a soul to a vigilante, but is cut short at the mention of a lady.
The knight’s impish grin widens, eyes following suit as he lets out a low whistle, “Feiyn huh?” He settles his chin into his palm and lids his eyes, “She sounds like a good fighter, but surely that isn’t the only thing you like about her. C’mon lover boy, tell me more.” He coos playfully.
“She can put a bullet into someone’s head from half a mile away, she can keep up with me pretty well when we spar, and she likes large cats. What else is there that you want to know?”
Tevruden eyes Ro’liath. “What about you then? Is there something— or dare I say, someone— that caused you to make that comment about being pure?”
“Wow, the technical skill really gets you goin’, huh?” Ro’liath leans back in his chair, tucking his hands behind his head, “Sounds like a good sturdy woman.”
His ears perk at the question and all too quickly his eyes seem to darken, “Yeah, yeah I got someone alright.” He sits forward, “His name’s Eroseth. When I found him he was drunk in the gutters of Silvermoon, he’s a knight too. He is…well, something. Kinda hard to explain him. But he looks good out of his armor.” He snickers to himself.
Tevruden laughs. “Of course, I am an unholy murder machine. You will have to have to meet her to understand why, but there are not not many mortals that can keep up with a death knight. I will have to introduce you two sometime.”
“So there is someone.” Tevruden grins. “And an Ebon too. You could try to explain, It’s not like I’m getting any older.”
About this time, the waiters seem to have found enough courage again, and the first of many plates start appearing on the table. It’s quickly covered in meats of several types, fish and a large platter in the center, piled with brownies. In fact there was so much stuff on the table it looks like the kitchen staff saw the order, heard what was ordering, and decided to appease them by making a bunch of dishes that were not in the order.
Ro’liath turned to the fellow knight, holding his coin pounch in a taloned gauntlet and seemingly studying it’s contents. Except there were none. He looked at Tevruden, offering a sheepish grin, “Got any uh, spare change?” He asked before turning his gaze back to the vendor whom was by now, tapping their foot.
“Feh— Ner’zhul is a joke. If any type of reanimation magic is commendable I’d say the parasites the botani seem to manifest are the most effective.” Ro’liath glances towards the door the waiter ran through in his escape before sucking air through his teeth and looking back at Tevruden.
“You’re supposed to remain pure- at least when you’re in training, but everyone knows that Paladins probably travel more than anyone else.” Ro’liath snorts with a grin before chewing a piece of skin off of his bottom lip.
"What about you big guy? You’re like an impenetrable fortress both physically and emotionally. Got anyone you’re sweet on eh? Eh?” He leans on the table, obviously all too amused and nosy.
“The Botani are interesting, but apparently Ner’zhul might hold the key to some of the problems remaining in the North.” Tevruden shrugs. “Though not the standard kind of necromancy, I would not mind seeing the methods they Draenei used to encase souls in those vigilants.”
“That is what they say, but you know the living. They have all of these urges.” Tevruden waves a hand dismissively. “If I had 5 silver for every rumor I’ve heard…”
The giant death knight raises an eyebrow. “Feiyn has excellent combat prowess, and great ranged cover. I am not just sweet on her.”
Ro’liath opens his mouth and is about to go off on a tangent about the intrepid process it would probably take to bind a soul to a vigilante, but is cut short at the mention of a lady.
The knight’s impish grin widens, eyes following suit as he lets out a low whistle, “Feiyn huh?” He settles his chin into his palm and lids his eyes, “She sounds like a good fighter, but surely that isn’t the only thing you like about her. C’mon lover boy, tell me more.” He coos playfully.
"She can put a bullet into someone’s head from half a mile away, she can keep up with me pretty well when we spar, and she likes large cats. What else is there that you want to know?”
Tevruden eyes Ro’liath. “What about you then? Is there something– or dare I say, someone– that caused you to make that comment about being pure?”
“I agree with the message of this post but the wording is too passive-aggressive or manipulative for me to feel comfortable reblogging it”: a constant Tumblr experience.
