@"Sparky Muse" @"Saryn" sorry 'bout delay, I'd offer excuses but no
"Ah, yes. A play. You could call it that," Teddy said grandiosely, with flourishing arms following every part of the sentence. While there was no play that would use demonic ritual as part of its plot - not currently, anyway - it was still good knowledge to have on hand, and many of the issues with his setup could be fixed in an actual theatrical release. For example, he was too chipper for a demon, as far as he could tell. "I call it... hang on, I'll figure out a name for it later."
Teddy took out a small bottle of clear water, which he took a great swig of. It flowed through his body, all the while flushing out the red hue from the previous drink. He turned back to his natural state, though for no reason he took his knife, slit his left wrist nonchalantly, and let the red drip out like blood. "So, you two seem like you know your demons and your demonic rituals and pacts and Griselbrands. You got any notes I should keep in mind? If you could tell me the actual procedure from where you're from, that'd be great, cause one of the few demons I personally know is pretty... how do I say this? Eh. He's pretty eh."
Off the side he heard the sound of slopping, and he laughed heartily. It wasn't often he saw people eating like that without meaning to be so... sloppy, and it was a refreshing sight in all honesty. He adopted a stiff, masculine accent and said, "Eat. Eat and grow strong!"
Then he twisted his hand, willing his self-inflicted wound to close. It took a while, and the red was still dripping out of it. Not wanting to waste any of his figurative lifeblood, he yanked from his pockets a feather and a notepad, and began scribbling with his own essence, as though a journalist taking down notes. "Okay, so let's be serious for a bit and ignore my signing in blood and my references. Who and or what are you two, and what and or who are you doing here in this particular forest?"
"Ah, yes. A play. You could call it that," Teddy said grandiosely, with flourishing arms following every part of the sentence. While there was no play that would use demonic ritual as part of its plot - not currently, anyway - it was still good knowledge to have on hand, and many of the issues with his setup could be fixed in an actual theatrical release. For example, he was too chipper for a demon, as far as he could tell. "I call it... hang on, I'll figure out a name for it later."
Teddy took out a small bottle of clear water, which he took a great swig of. It flowed through his body, all the while flushing out the red hue from the previous drink. He turned back to his natural state, though for no reason he took his knife, slit his left wrist nonchalantly, and let the red drip out like blood. "So, you two seem like you know your demons and your demonic rituals and pacts and Griselbrands. You got any notes I should keep in mind? If you could tell me the actual procedure from where you're from, that'd be great, cause one of the few demons I personally know is pretty... how do I say this? Eh. He's pretty eh."
Off the side he heard the sound of slopping, and he laughed heartily. It wasn't often he saw people eating like that without meaning to be so... sloppy, and it was a refreshing sight in all honesty. He adopted a stiff, masculine accent and said, "Eat. Eat and grow strong!"
Then he twisted his hand, willing his self-inflicted wound to close. It took a while, and the red was still dripping out of it. Not wanting to waste any of his figurative lifeblood, he yanked from his pockets a feather and a notepad, and began scribbling with his own essence, as though a journalist taking down notes. "Okay, so let's be serious for a bit and ignore my signing in blood and my references. Who and or what are you two, and what and or who are you doing here in this particular forest?"