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.
Ōn’nyosh: Raises an eyebrow. Well, fuck! I feel like a dumbass now. I didn’t realize you were an ice demon. I’ve only encountered one or two of your brethren, but you guys are actually pretty cool. Chuckles. Don’t mind the pun. But, before I take any sort of contract, this isn’t one of those ‘sell your soul to Falbahaddon, the God of Madness’ situations, is it? Because I want nothing to do with that creepy bastard!
(This fucking guy!)
(Nice! Thumbs-up)
Dane: Sighs We're a reclusive race, considering we are found in the 3rd and 9th layers of hell. Shudders Lord below! I can't stand Falbahaddon. Demons can't even stand him. No, this is a mutual agreement between two people to help each other out.
(I laugh Fucking On'nyosh.)
(Grins slyly Btw, there's a tiny detail Dane forgot to mention about this contract: when On'nyosh accepts and calls Dane later, it'll be an unpleasant experience for all parties involved.)
Ōn’nyosh: Makes sense, though I’m not too familiar with this ‘Hell’ place. I’ve heard that it’s some sort of demiplane that likes to sit between the Tar Plane and the Fire Plane, but that’s all I really know. Hums suspiciously. You’re a first. The demons I know flock to that funky bastard in hordes. Falbahaddon is God of Decay, Destruction, and Madness, after all. Chuckles, shaking his head. You better mean ‘mutual’ as ‘equal partnership’, because I’m aware that demons and devils alike are fucking tricksters by nature.
(Yup. Ōn’nyosh doesn’t know that part, but he’s smart enough to know not to be careless around a demon, lol)
Dane: Well. . . technically. In your universe, sure. In mine, hell is a full plane. Sighs The ones that follow the Lord of Gassy Ass are the ones that don't live in hell. Those of us that do live in hell have our own lord. And are far more cultured. He tilts his head, his pale eyes and pupils turning feline, and smirks And you aren't a trickster by nature? He sighs and his eyes turn back to normal But, if you insist, I shall make us fully equal.
(True, lol. One last thing: Dane will effectively be bound to On'nyosh permanently. They cannot be unbound. On'nyosh'll probably be pissed about that, but yeah, lmao)
Ōn’nyosh: Interesting… Snickers. I call bullshit on that, but whatever. Snorts. I’m a prankster. There’s a difference. I’m actually a lot more honest than most would believe. Rolls his eyes. Fucking figures. I’m questioning this contract even more than I already was. What else is fucked up on there? And, if you’re not completely honest and hide shit from me, I’m fucking leaving.
(Oof, lmao)
