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ID: nxMEO6WH/qst/6269877#6272698
7/10/2025, 2:55:10 AM
>>6272589
>>6272600
[Eccentric] You decide to look for people in need of mischief in a scheme that is most certainly not a mere distraction from the sheer despair you're feeling. But if you want the business of mischief to prosper, you must think like a proper Lalafell and--what? That's right, advertise!
-300 Gil. 700 remaining.
The shoppers are able to get the materials you need lickety split! That is, two bells that you are certain they already had judging by how unusually quickly they were able to get them to you.
You feel a strange attunement to them.
You ring your bells to draw attention to yourself and ask staring passerbys,
“Mischief? Mischief? Mischief?”
Your business acumen actually nets you an interested party. A tall, red Roegadyn with a musculature that you consider abnormal even for his race. He could probably crush your skull between his biceps. Not only that, he seemed significantly better dressed than the other prisoners. He sported elegant, colorful robes that blew the standard tunics the rest were assigned completely out of the water. He had two beautiful women wrapped around his arms looking somewhat uncomfortable, one Miqo'te and one Hyur.
“What is this cacophonic display, precisely?” Even his accent was oddly… noble, for lack of a better word. The sort of accent you'd use if you wanted to do a funny voice to make fun of rich men.
“Business of mischief, sir. If you need any mis done, I'm the chief.” You felt smart saying that.
The man lets out a raucous chuckle. For some reason, you feel the air around you get heavier. People have stopped to stare at the two of you.
“How quaint! I could stand for some entertainment right about now.” The man looks around and picks up a cockroach that was scurrying across the ground. He holds it in front of you.
“Sneak this down the neck of that spudling girl over there and I will bestow 5,000 Gil upon you.”
He pointed his head towards Neneqe, who was settling back down at her spot on the water fountain. She was panting and sweaty. The two women now looked deeply disturbed, but were silent.
“Huh? Neneqe? Did she… do something bad to you?”
He looked annoyed that you even asked for clarification.
“Do you want the money or not?!”
Well? It… [i]sounds[/i] like you have a choice.
>Well, you do need the money…
>No, that's terrible!
>>6272600
[Eccentric] You decide to look for people in need of mischief in a scheme that is most certainly not a mere distraction from the sheer despair you're feeling. But if you want the business of mischief to prosper, you must think like a proper Lalafell and--what? That's right, advertise!
-300 Gil. 700 remaining.
The shoppers are able to get the materials you need lickety split! That is, two bells that you are certain they already had judging by how unusually quickly they were able to get them to you.
You feel a strange attunement to them.
You ring your bells to draw attention to yourself and ask staring passerbys,
“Mischief? Mischief? Mischief?”
Your business acumen actually nets you an interested party. A tall, red Roegadyn with a musculature that you consider abnormal even for his race. He could probably crush your skull between his biceps. Not only that, he seemed significantly better dressed than the other prisoners. He sported elegant, colorful robes that blew the standard tunics the rest were assigned completely out of the water. He had two beautiful women wrapped around his arms looking somewhat uncomfortable, one Miqo'te and one Hyur.
“What is this cacophonic display, precisely?” Even his accent was oddly… noble, for lack of a better word. The sort of accent you'd use if you wanted to do a funny voice to make fun of rich men.
“Business of mischief, sir. If you need any mis done, I'm the chief.” You felt smart saying that.
The man lets out a raucous chuckle. For some reason, you feel the air around you get heavier. People have stopped to stare at the two of you.
“How quaint! I could stand for some entertainment right about now.” The man looks around and picks up a cockroach that was scurrying across the ground. He holds it in front of you.
“Sneak this down the neck of that spudling girl over there and I will bestow 5,000 Gil upon you.”
He pointed his head towards Neneqe, who was settling back down at her spot on the water fountain. She was panting and sweaty. The two women now looked deeply disturbed, but were silent.
“Huh? Neneqe? Did she… do something bad to you?”
He looked annoyed that you even asked for clarification.
“Do you want the money or not?!”
Well? It… [i]sounds[/i] like you have a choice.
>Well, you do need the money…
>No, that's terrible!
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