Dire Pigeon of Mood's page

WAC WAC!

"So I suppose I'm out of a job now? Figures."

*Digs his talons into the Dupont Stainsaver sheepishly and heads off looking at the want ads.

*Leaves and kills for meat and thrills.

Sooo... am I sentenced to death or still in a job so long as escaped prisoners are running about willy nilly. I have NO CLUE as to what's going on here.

Fine, whatever. It was a sucky job anyway. At least in jail THE RULES ARE CLEAR!

(Spell wears off)

"Ah yes, back to pinion sycthing!"

SLASHASLAHSASLAHSASLASH!

"YUMMY! It's critter stew!"

Dire Pigeon of Mood wrote:

Kobold Cleaver wrote:

Dire Pigeon of Mood wrote:

*Unsure of what to do, the Dire Pigeon of Mood flails madly with his sycthe-tipped pinions, creating a melting pot bloodspray from of tens of donors.

"EVERYBODY JUST DIE ALREADY! UNTIL I CAN FIND OUT WHAT'S GOING ON ANYWAY! I'm so confused..."

*Casts Paralysis*

"Help! I've failed a save and I can't get up!"

Dammit, why can he still talk?

"My lips always make their save!"

Dire Pigeon of Mood wrote:

*Unsure of what to do, the Dire Pigeon of Mood flails madly with his sycthe-tipped pinions, creating a melting pot bloodspray from of tens of donors.

"EVERYBODY JUST DIE ALREADY! UNTIL I CAN FIND OUT WHAT'S GOING ON ANYWAY! I'm so confused..."

*Casts Paralysis*

"Help! I've failed a save and I can't get up!"

*Unsure of what to do, the Dire Pigeon of Mood flails madly with his sycthe-tipped pinions, creating a melting pot bloodspray from tens of donors.

"EVERYBODY JUST DIE ALREADY! UNTIL I CAN FIND OUT WHAT'S GOING ON ANYWAY! I'm so confused..."

*Waits for instructions from the boss, as his intuition has been failing miserably of late.

When are visitors' hours? I need to talk to someone.

I'll have to ask the boss but I think we're 3-5 on weekends and 4-4:03 on weekdays.

Alright, enough is enough. I've been hired to rid this dungeon of any accountants with a boobular ocular deformity.

*Devours the pesky lil creep.