Editing Drake Nero
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Eternal Summer 3 <br> Punishing Summer 2 <bR>Separation 4<br> Stone 1<br> Vainglory 1<br> | Eternal Summer 3 <br> Punishing Summer 2 <bR>Separation 4<br> Stone 1<br> Vainglory 1<br> | ||
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| β | Experience: Total | + | Experience: Total 125 Spent 78 remaining 21 |
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Thomas Drake never did housecalls and made an attempt to be as coolly professional as possible when dealing with his financial consulting clients. Though, sometimes, clients were '''insistent''' and in order to maintain good business, Thomas periodically traveled to a client's home--for an exorbitant fee.<br>He'd thought his client simply had a strange sense of humor when she asked him to "manage her treasure" and then dismissed the thought when she barely blinked at the cost of his at-home consulting.<br> He doesn't quite remember what happened next.<br>The next thing he knew, he was chained by the neck to a slick cave wall, forced to eternally count the mountain of treasure he slept upon. Beyond this, he was her treasure's beautiful guardian, tasked to seduce and slay any thieves or wanderers who got too close. He lost a piece of himself to Arcadia's thrall and '''relished''' in his duties.<br> One day his hand closed around something shining that didn't '''feel'''like other coins. It was flimsy, crushable and smelled vaguely of something sweet.<br> Something familiar. <br> Chocolate. <br> The foil wrapper of a chocolate coin. His mother used to put a sack of chocolate coins in his Christmas stocking and tell him 'Look, Tommy, you're rich!' When had he last seen his mother? Could he even remember her face? What was his father's name? When had his hands become claws? How long had he been in this illusion? More importantly, where the hell WAS he?<br> Hot tears streamed down his face as he clawed at the collar around his neck--only to realize all this time he'd been restrained by his own necktie. Without regard for the pain, he sunk his fingers into the material, tearing the collar (and some scales) free.<br> And then he ran<br> | Thomas Drake never did housecalls and made an attempt to be as coolly professional as possible when dealing with his financial consulting clients. Though, sometimes, clients were '''insistent''' and in order to maintain good business, Thomas periodically traveled to a client's home--for an exorbitant fee.<br>He'd thought his client simply had a strange sense of humor when she asked him to "manage her treasure" and then dismissed the thought when she barely blinked at the cost of his at-home consulting.<br> He doesn't quite remember what happened next.<br>The next thing he knew, he was chained by the neck to a slick cave wall, forced to eternally count the mountain of treasure he slept upon. Beyond this, he was her treasure's beautiful guardian, tasked to seduce and slay any thieves or wanderers who got too close. He lost a piece of himself to Arcadia's thrall and '''relished''' in his duties.<br> One day his hand closed around something shining that didn't '''feel'''like other coins. It was flimsy, crushable and smelled vaguely of something sweet.<br> Something familiar. <br> Chocolate. <br> The foil wrapper of a chocolate coin. His mother used to put a sack of chocolate coins in his Christmas stocking and tell him 'Look, Tommy, you're rich!' When had he last seen his mother? Could he even remember her face? What was his father's name? When had his hands become claws? How long had he been in this illusion? More importantly, where the hell WAS he?<br> Hot tears streamed down his face as he clawed at the collar around his neck--only to realize all this time he'd been restrained by his own necktie. Without regard for the pain, he sunk his fingers into the material, tearing the collar (and some scales) free.<br> And then he ran<br> | ||
