Eager to find more stuff to play with y'all!
...Once folks' lives settle down a bit, I suppose. But whenever you're ready, I'm always down for more :D
(If not, I might... gasp, shudder... go back into PFS...!)
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Yeah!! Always a delight to play with y'all :D
Ellen nods at Dev, then at Akimi, and, thinking twice, nods in the general direction she last recalls Jacques last being. "Then that'll be our next adventure. As long as we're together, I don't care where the winds take us. May as well be to Tama!"
"Absolutely not." Ellen's face sets in determination; she reaches down, hand offered, and when Akimi doesn't take it, she grabs them under the armpits and hoists them over her shoulder. "You can sit here and mope or you can try to track her down. If you don't, I will, and you'll have to wait 'til I find her anyway, so you may as well help. I don't have an eye for... that thing you do. Investigations?" She shrugs, jostling Akimi in the process. "So we find her. And if she's hurt, you apologize. But if she's all you have left, you can't just assume the worst, you have to fight for it. "And I'll be right here beside you. Or... under you," she grins, shifting her arm, "as the case may be."
Ellen blinks, staring dumbly as her ears twitch atop her head. Eventually her eyes narrow in thought, and she retraces their steps. It... has been a bit, she realizes. "Did she stay home today?" Ellen asks. It's... possible, she wagers.
Ellen sighs through her teeth. "C'mon, Doc. I grabbed some of that busted evil bookshelf or whatever from the other room; should be close enough to a ladder."
"I'm gonna defer to your judgment on this one," Ellen nods, glancing about for a shovel, a pick, or anything that will help in this situation. Although she does ponder leaving and coming back later. The accursed place is starting to make her restless, and a good nap in her hammock (and maybe some PG-18 encounters) are starting to sound real good right now.
Ellen aids Akimi in their sudden desire to give the place a once-more-over, all the while telling the tale of Phineas Lee, a young man whose spirit curses a blade housed aboard their very ship! It's said that, even now, one can see his soul dragged from adventure to adventure by an ill-mannered buffoon...! Perception:
"Good point," says Ellen, catching Akimi's fingers on her arm with a gentle hand of her own. She casts a sidelong grin at them. "Back to the spiders and ghosts we call home, then. Did I ever tell you the ship's haunted?"
"Maybe a bath with some onions and carrots?"
"Hey, Doc, whatcha got?"
Ellen slowly turns white. "Maybe we burn this."
"Would it help if I flexed at you, bestie?" Ellen asks, doing so regardless.
"I can't help it! Flexing is part of my meditation!" To prove her point, she Wholenesses her Body.
"...Now I need to meditate again. One sec." Six hundred secs later, she rises, good as new, more-or-less. "Always feels bad killing a well-spoken opponent," she says. "Or really anything that's not undead. How's everyone doing? How's morale?"
Prince Ellen flexes as Akimi tries to bandage her arm, throwing off the bandages. "I need to stop doing that," she sighs, leaning toward Akimi and relegating one leg to the task of the jackal on the far side.
"Aggh, that smarts," she grimaces at the bleeding wound. Still, her forearms glow, blood and all, and unleashes a series of blows that would probably hit real nasty if more than one of them hit!
"Why do I always forget this is a thing that happens sometimes?" grunts the prince as ???? happens to her. Ellen sprints around, coming up on the far side of the jackal.
"Oh snap, two in a row!" chuckles Ellen, shaking off a bit of blood from her hair. "Four on one and I'm the only one of us that's bleeding!" She looks manic... until her brain catches up, and she sighs, shaking her head. "Unfortunately, the only thing we can offer you at this juncture is death." She raises her fists once more, tails cocking out to either side. "Submit, or give this fight everything you have. Either way, all I can wish for you is dignity."
Ellen snarls as the bugbear's attack grazes her side. "Let's determine your approximate AC!" she bellows, launching a flurry of knees and elbows in descending order of accuracy.
Ellen cracks her knuckles. "Well, here we go."
She frowns quizzically at her knuckles. "I need to get these things checked out."
Ellen huffs as she shrugs an axe wound into her least favorite shoulder and watches the other sail wide--clearly he had expected her to dodge? "You know that thing in plays where the villain starts making a lot of sense and then just boils an orphanage to make it clear he's the bad guy?" She flexes, and the axe pops back out. "I'm just saying, you had me in the first half, I'm not gonna lie."
Ellen folds her arms, deep in thought. "I agree that monstrous folks reach more persecution than they deserve; it's true among even humanoids of different types," she says. "But I have heard it said that Lamashtu's aims are not of equality but of conquest. Is that untrue?"
"If you'll excuse him; he's sort of the Rhunk of our group," Ellen says with a wry smile.
"I am called Ellen," says Prince Ellen of House Foxpaw, Duchess of Something and Duke of Something Else. "A pleasure to meet you."
"Aw, man, dude," Ellen says, clicking her tongue. "You can do better than that, though? Like, I don't mean to just waltz in here and tell you how to live your life, but 'I'm the last you're ever gonna get and honestly it's gonna be, like, mid' can't be what you're settling for. Are you happy like this? Don't you want to - I don't know, learn something, get good at something? Find someone who smiles when they see you, maybe? Like, I'm just spitballing here, but what are you into besides rape and murder?"
Ellen... helps? If she can? "Smells like a farm," she says, though it's hard to tell if she's griping or not.
Ellen "oooh"s and affixes the grasshopper to her cloak as a brooch.
"I don't think you're ready to put a bun in any ovens just yet," Ellen grins, then hisses through her teeth as Akimi heals her a little more. "There we go. That's not goin' anywhere. Maybe ever." She rises from the overturned whatever-it-used-to-be and carefully avoids rotating her cuff too much for fear of pulling the threads out of it. Her ambient magics should help seal the deal - it would be a shame to undo the good doctor's work the instant she threw another punch. "Honestly, I'm considering figuring out how to make camp and hunkering down for a night . Problem is, I don't really want to leave here through that horrible pain portal again or whatever."
Ellen limps over. "See, now I'm torn about the backflip. On the one hand, it worked. On the other hand, I didn't notice poor Dev got garged. You doin' okay, Deverino?" she asks as the man blinks awake. "You're a lifesaver, 'Kimi. I wish it was literal a little less often, but - " And then she compares the careful medical applications to some less-appropriate activities.
Ellen steps closer to the garg. "Sometimes it feels like fighting goes on forever," she gripes, throwing a pair of punches that don't seem to find any raction against an airborne foe...
...and then, realizing her shortness is negatively affecting her reach, leaps up into a dramatic spinning backflip kick and glowing gold, briefly. "TENSENRIN!!"
"It's either you or Finley," shrugs Ellen.
"Phewwwwwww! Nice shootin', Doc!"
"How... many... punches... have I thrown..."
"Ow ow ow ow ow!" Ellen squeals. Without a whole lot of options, she gets working on reverse-IKEA-ing the furniture.
"This got gnarly fast," she grimaces. "Let's un-gnarl them before they un-gnarl us."
"Uh oh."
"Right. East door, then," she says, trusting Akimi's judgment more than Jacques's for completely unbiased reasons. She leads the party through it.
Ellen plops down without a complaint. Usually when she comes out of a fight with more bruises and cuts than she has bones, she compares it to having had a run-in with an owlbear. She'd never counted on two owlbears. "You know, I heard - oof - about a cleric who healed wounds by - ah, tight, too tight - that's better - who healed wounds by licking them." She gives Akimi a significant look and a roll of the eyebrows - then winces. Even moving her face hurts.
Ellen blinks awake rather suddenly in the hall. "Well, that would have been a poor death," she grimaces, rolling up onto her feet. Seeing that Jacques is still in battle with the foe, she fans her tails out with a "chk-chk!" and then lets fly.
D:
"Ow." "Ow." "Ow--oh, wait, no, just two ows." "Hey, owlbear, did you know you can teach a dog curative spells? It's true! Speaking of: Heal!"
"Oh, phew! Now that that shoulder's back in place..."
Ellen squirms and flails and really struggles to make anything land with those talons in her ribs.
As a free action, Ellen grabs the surprisingly-cocksure Dev and yanks him back behind the yellow line. In an effort to keep both of them too engaged to munch on Jacques, she divides a flurry of lightning between both targets:
She hopes that, even if she didn't hit, getting close enough will keep them from getting comfortable ignoring the dancing light-up foxes.
Ellen breathes a sigh of... something. "Grab him and get a few feet down. Bottleneck 'em. I mean it. We can't fight two at once."
Ellen grimaces. Jacques getting grabbed--and getting grabbed there, of all places--really throws her strategy out the window. "Reminder to self: if we survive, I need to explain the concept of 'bottlenosing' to the rest of the group." "...Bottle NECKING. Is that why we're getting confused?" She takes a deep breath, clenching her fist. "I hate that I'm about to do this," she grimaces, then rushes in.
She doesn't fancy her odds of hitting with a third strike; she takes a careful step backwards, hoping to stay within blue's reach but out of red's and thus divide their attentions. Maybe.
"Hmm. I'm a little Frightened. Are the rest of you frightened?"
Ellen sizes up the situation. She flings some foxfulgur at the one on the left, grinning as at least one of them hits true.
"Bottlenose 'em!" she orders, taking two steps back and hoping that everyone else also takes two steps back!
"Hey, not everybody can! If Jacques could manage it he'd get into twice as much trouble," Ellen snarks. She sniffs--immediately regretting it--and gives the room a once-over.
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