Gerome:
Gerome is positively giddy with excitement. He loves to learn new things. Heck, that was one of the reasons he came out this way. He bounces around the illusion, ooing and ahing, and barely absorbing anything else that was said.
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Germone: Can you cast that on me?he asks bouncing on his toes, Oh oh Can I see the skeleton? Storm Fury is OBs bird thing. It's tiny but scary. He seems to have entered some kind of excitement feedback loop, and looks about to pop.
Gerome - no longer in canteen: Gerome has way more questions than answers. He takes a bottle of what he presumes is orange juice, shrugs.
I guess I just sort of followed him. He sort of smirks, trying not to think too hard about what had driven him to follow Ouroboros. Fear? Curiosity? He had been drawn to him like a flame. Dangerous, powerful, so much potential, but none of it good. And then there was Tyrone. He shrugs again, trying not to let guilt swallow him whole. Tyrone was his excuse, not the reason. He takes a swing of his juice, wincing a little at the bitterness, and rapidly changes the subject. So, what exactly is she? She eats magic? How big will she get? Will she fight my enemies? Can anyone else see her? What about Storm Fury?
Gerome: Gerome stares at Bliss with wide eyed panic. The more she rambles, the more certain he is that he just followed a crazy person into her living quarters. His eyes dart around. No obvious weapons, but then she is a spell caster...
He hadn't even told Ouroboros where he was going... Drink?! Yes! Please. He jumps into the pause she leaves, killing the tension and his nerves at once. But then, it had worked out well when he had followed Ouroboros... more or less... Maybe he was just good with crazy. He smiles broadly. If he could handle a psychotic snake man... You have a lot of books. he says.
Gerome: chances a quick glance at Ouroboros, who quickly looks back at his bowl of food with renewed interest. Gerome hesitates, and then agrees. He pushes his bowl of food aside.
I was done anyway. he says.
Gerome: isn't entirely sure what to say. He really knows very little about his friend, only that it chose him, and it protects him. He'd wanted to keep it a secret, an edge if Ouroboros turned on him, or he found himself in a tight spot. But he was curious, and this lady did seem to know.
He gives a sort of half shrug, and tenderly strokes the head of the tiny beast around his neck. He's eager to know, but not eager to look at idiot. She never told me her name. he says at last, trying to determine whether Ouroboros was listening, or genuinely as interested in his food as he looked.
Gerome was strangely wired after the events in the desert. True, he had washed and dressed, but sleep hadn't come easy and so he had ventured in search of food. Food he did not feel inclined to share, after what he had been through to get it. He wasn't without compassion however, and reached across the table and placed a healing hand on Ouroboros.
He allowed the last of his Magiks to heal his friend without a word and went back to his meal. He was worried about the others...
Gerome frowned at the implication. I was saving my magiks for Salt. We didn't want her to die... Gerome catches the bag of coin, which turns his frown upside down. Is this for me?
Gerome spat matted green hair out of his mouth. What happened?
Gerome looks over his shoulder, squinting through the mass of green hair billowing wildly as they cut through the air. They're turning back! He shouts to the driver. We should help them!!
Gerome reeled back from Ouroboros' final comment with such force, he almost fell straight from his perch! We're going to HELP them! he insisted, though in all honesty, he had thought of the caravan as a safe haven, as if once they reached the trailing dinosaur babies, they would be safe from danger. That was of course ridiculous! Gerome had this sinking feeling, maybe OB was right. Maybe they were leading danger straight towards their crew! Boy he hoped they were ready!
Gerome had turned an odd shade of green. Stroking his neck with trembling hand, he says Agreed! and mounts the dinosaur before Ouroboros has the chance to argue. GO! He shrieks in his ear.
Gerome glares at Ouroboros for a moment longer. You're welcome he hisses. He turns, his eyes finding Salt some distance away. She seems to be talking to Bzzt. Gerome waves cheerfully to get their attention, it was time to put his healing hands to work on someone else. The sound Storn Fury makes, turns his blood to ice and his knees to jelly. He turns involuntarily, his hand slowly dropping from the air. By the Gods...
Gerome watched as the last burning zombie crumpled into ash. He reslung his trombone and broke into a run in a single action. Ouroboros had slumped in his seat, obviously injured and catching his breath. The little gnome was at his side in a heart beat. Two more and he began to conjure the magic needed to heal his friend. Gerome lay glowing hands upon the gaping wound.
Does that feel better? It had stopped raining.
The carnage began. The dust began to settle. Out of the sand cloud Gerome stepped. He was a ways away from the battle, overseeing it like a general. He lifted his trombone to his lips and blew. His tune was so cheerful, so jolly and upbeat, that the very spirit of his comrades could not help but be uplifted. In this hour of brutal violence, Geromes song was a whisper of hope upon the wind.
Well that was one way to dismount. Gerome stands gingerly, dusting himself off. He checks his supply of holy water, and his trombone, and follows slowly in the wake of the dinosaur.
But what will you do?
DO WE NEED A PLAN? Gerome shouts to no one in particular, his voice being whipped away with the passing wind.
Gerome, squeaks a little with the sudden movement, and holds onto OB's cloak. I guess we're riding into battle.
Gerome finds his place again, clinging to Ouroboros's waist. From this height, he can see the black smoke too. Yes, Burned Ones. He says, with more certainty than he feels.
Gerome was not jealous of a bird... Nope. Not at all. It wasn't like Ouroboros has ever treated him with tenderness... but... He rubbed his neck. No, not jealous.
Gerome stowed his water jar and vial into his backpack. He was still checking his gear when the raptor lurched forwards towards the exit. Gerome gave out a little squeak and grabbed OBs cloak for support. He wasn't sure if this sudden movement was deliberate, but OBs laugh suggested that it might be...
Gerome rubs the back of his neck, quite unused to being listened to in such a way. Odd that singing is no difficulty for him, but talking to a crowd makes the butterflies in his stomach form swarms and attempt to make an escape. He thinks for a moment longer. We should be able to see the Burning Ones coming from miles away. I suppose if you go up front with that sniper scope, they can't catch us unawares. Maybe you'll see the chimera flying around too. The giant bugs tend to burrow, we may have to pay special attention to rumbling noises beneath us. He pauses. They spit acid by the way...
Gerome does not like to be ignored. Especially when he has vital information at hand. He uses Ouroboroses distraction to use his leg as a ladder, and hauls himself up onto the dinosaur. Perched on the beasts rump Gerome felt taller. Listen up! He shouts, trying to hide the quaver in his voice as he plays the part of general atop his stallion. We have flaming zombies, giants bugs, and a flying lion/goat thing to attend with out there. We need to be smart, stick together, stay alert. Maybe we should have a plan? He pauses, waiting for a reaction.
Gerome sits up suddenly eyes wide with fear. He swallows hard. Burning ones? He says softly, and immediately starts tugging Ouroboroses cloak.
Gerome rolls onto his back groaning. The floor was hard. I'VE GONE BLIND he screeches. He has a moment of panic, and then the white towel is lifted from his face by a stern looking Ouroboros. The Teifling says nothing, but his expression says a thousand words. You are an idiot... Keen to collect what is left of his dignity, this little gnome listens carefully to Markus in the hope that he will detect a clue.
Gerome backed up a few paces, and took a run and jump to mount the dinosaur.
Gerome turns to Ouroboros with a sad expression on his face. How do I ride? he asks, a little confused. I don't have a mount...
Gerome jumps up, smiling again. Can I come?
Gerome sits down in the puddle, looking very sad, drenched head to foot. He wiped a soaking lock hair from his face and whimpered.
Gerome looks bleary eyed at Salt, and giggles nervously. Salt? He says quietly, waving to catch her attention? Would I make a good rapper? He then begins to beatbox.
Geromes jumps to his feet smiling widely, causing Ouroboros to stumble backwards a little. Here I am, he half sings, alive at last.
Gerome finds himself sat on the floor, legs splayed in front of him, teddybear style. He sighs wistfully, humming quietly to himself. He idly wonders if he had been singing out loud...When he opens his eyes, he finds Ouroboros fills his entire field of vision. He was bent over him, his face so close their noses were almost touching.
Gerome is staring to feel the pressure. Riddles upon riddles. Eyes are upon him from all directions, the very definition of peer pressure. And there stands Ouroboros, a soul resister, ready to start a confrontation with an all powerful being for committing the sin of hurting one of his own. Gerome looks down at the gem sparkling in his hand, feels a gentle squeeze of reassurance around his neck. He takes a deep breath, and swallows the stone.
Gerome eyed the rock suspiciously. Just this morning he had had to deal with the repercussions of his all night bender, did he really want to get high with Salt right now? His eyes flicked to Ouroboros for... what? Permission? The teiflings expression was neutral, his stance brooding. If he knew what was going on, he wasn't giving anything away. He was probably annoyed that Gaia had wheedled information out of them...He looked to Gaia again. I've learned the hard way not to stick things in my mouth unless I know where they've been. What is this?
Gerome looks sceptically from Bzzt to the rock and back to Gaia. But...Really? Why?
Gerome cautiously stepped forward and collected the little red gem from the floor and studied it closely. He wasn't entirely sure what had just happened or what he was to do next. He wasn't about to tell his secret just yet though. It had been a while since he felt in control of his own destiny, and keeping his secret for just himself made him feel stronger and more confident. I am sure I have no idea what you are talking about. He replied, smiling widely, eyes innocent. He gestured to the stone. For me?
Gerome flashed Gaia a cheeky grin, but said nothing.
Gerome blinks at the crystal at his feet. Now how did that get there? Gerome:
Gerome cut in before Ouroboros could open his mouth. The crystal fell out of the locker and exploded into nothing. There was... something trying to reform but... died? He shook his head. We were scared you would be angry... He trailed off, his eyes wide and innocent.
Gerome:
Gerome swallowed his guilt. He was a consummate performer if ever there was one. I Think we would remember another Gaia. He replied with a laugh. But OB is right, there was glass on the floor. Could have been a broken shard.
Gerome’s face fell as he spotted the book being passed frantically. But it wasn’t my fault! he blurts. He looks to Ouroboros, who’s expression is blank. I mean, what happened?
This was when Gerome made his entrance. Skipping jovially, singing to himself, smiling like sunshine.
Gerome: Gerome walks along chattering quietly to his new friend. The feel of their small scaled tail wrapped gently around his neck, was weirdly comforting. We have to give you a name. He says, positively skipping with joy.
The little gnome excitedly lists creative names, hoping the tiny beast would give him some sign.
Gerome: Gerome giggle claps at the tickling sensation. He gently strokes the nose of his new companion, idly wondering what it was, what it could do, and how big it would grow. He hopes he can sufficiently feed the creature. Once he has managed to compose himself, he brushes himself down, and then heads out to meet the rest of the team. No one need know you're there. He whispers to his new friend.
Gerome: Upon hearing the crack, Gerome more or less back flips back into the room. He watches intensely as the egg breaks open, his nose mere inches from the freshly hatched serpent. He has no idea what the creature is, but he is immediately in love.
He reaches out his hand for the creature to sniff. Please don't bite me...
Gerome first returned to his quarters. A wash, clean cloths and a moment of quiet was what he required. He had grown very fond of his companions, but they frightened him, that was for sure. When Gerome was recovering from a drunken night, his number one concern was always, had he embarrassed himself? Ouroboros and Bzzt hangovers seemed to involve dead bodies... He found himself sat on the end of his bed, staring at his egg. He missed Tyrone, and yet he was certain Tyrone would have hated it out here. The goat hated heights, and moped when there was no fresh green grass or a pale of water. What Gerome needed was a companion who would follow him up to the top of Bessie or into the deepest caverns. A friend small enough to ride on his shoulder, but strong enough to jump in front of him and blow away his enemies. A friend who could stand up to Ouroboros if the time came when the Teifling got bored of keeping him around. And most of all, said companion needed to be cute and cuddly because how else was Gerome to stay sane? He smiled sadly at the egg, placed it back into his bed, and the started to pack his bag for another day of adventures.
Gerome scratched the back of his head and smiled brightly. Thank you. He said, Both for the food and the rescue.You really don't need to give me your money though.
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