Oscare walks on by the usual wooden post of media, wondering whatever was up no -- wait.
After some shuffling under old newpaper clippings, the corner of a darkly colored poster caught his attention. And of course, there's another recognizable blonde. This time it was at least someone he expected to be up there.
"Miss Cliodhna Eoghan, yeah?" He rips off the poster, examining it from all angles. "Definitely less surprising than Edda. But I wonder where the heck these gals take their photos from." He mused aloud before reading the clearly bold print disclaimer at the bottom. "Oh," a disappointed tone rolled off his tongue.
He folds the poster and stashes it in his belt satchel with the others he so weirdly kept on him. There was something seriously wrong with this guy. He trots on away as if there was nothing wrong at all.
After some shuffling under old newpaper clippings, the corner of a darkly colored poster caught his attention. And of course, there's another recognizable blonde. This time it was at least someone he expected to be up there.
"Miss Cliodhna Eoghan, yeah?" He rips off the poster, examining it from all angles. "Definitely less surprising than Edda. But I wonder where the heck these gals take their photos from." He mused aloud before reading the clearly bold print disclaimer at the bottom. "Oh," a disappointed tone rolled off his tongue.
He folds the poster and stashes it in his belt satchel with the others he so weirdly kept on him. There was something seriously wrong with this guy. He trots on away as if there was nothing wrong at all.
"Critical fails; for when the GM sobs at night and the players get free checks."
