Recent content by Emilio

The creaking of chairs seemed almost rhythmic as Emilio sat himself down right after Two-Tails- he was probably about as heavy, owing to the extra height, even if he wasn't quite so round. He crammed the rest of the slice of toast down his mouth, pushing it in with his paw, and had a sip of the...

Emilio regarded Two-Tails' immediate consumption of the offered fishstick with a simple nod, even as the lizard's jaw seemed to unhinge. He understood well the appetite a big beast could work up, even if he wasn't quite so... soft as his potential employer. He was quite willing to speak up...

Emil smirked as he saw Griblo stumbling about with his things. Sometimes he packed heavy, that was true, but his sword was still just that- a sword, and not a giant bar of steel! That ferret sure knew how to flatter him. He waved him off and blew on his tea, cooling it best he could before...

"Jubilation!" Emil exclaimed, clapping his paws together twice quickly. "I shall naw scorn a cup of hot tea, 'specially in this weather. Yet, y'must promise me it is none too bitter, for I ain't one who's drank tea much often." Despite this, he would take the cup and carefully sip from it...

"Whoa," Emilio maneuvered his arm in front of Griblo as he saw the steel pole come out, shielding the smaller ferret with his body; phony compass or not, he supposed it'd be best if it was him getting a whallop instead, he had a helmet on. "Maybe we put it back, aye?" He muttered and looked down...

"Nice t'meet ya, Miss Marble Aggro-thera." Emilio sniffled, looking between the two already working. "Surry if my bud said somethin' rude." He looked at the little screws and pins and whatnot that the todd had been messing with. "I'm sure yer, uhh... wooorrrrrk... is right delicate. No toys at...

Two-tails? Oh, he had to see that. Was it split down the middle? Or did they grow out separate? How did he wear trousers? Emil blinked as the learned, marbled gentle-fox dropped the word pulchritude upon him like a faceful of verbal grapeshot. "Wot?" He mumbled, not loud enough to interrupt. He...

"Ahhhh. Arrite." Emil sighed, but gave an understanding nod. He offered up a paw for Grimfur to shake and a "Thanks for the tip, mister. An' good fishin'." Sometimes that was just how it went, here or down south. Wasn't a thing for it. He sniffled as the smoke burned his nose. He'd step away...

Rain flowed off the brim of Emilio's helmet and down to the ground and the sleeves of his gambeson in equal measure, while his boots splished into puddles to great displacement of the water. Wonderful weather for a hangover to creep into his body, certainly. Not too bright, not too hot. The fact...

Emil shot a clumsy, tipsy wave to the rat before turning to saunter out after Griblo. He winced as the humid stench of the streets of the Slups hit him at the same time as the rain, about the only thing fouler than what he'd had to drink an hour or so ago. "Blugh." He swallowed once before...

"Don' tell me everyone up here izz'is soft!" Emil looked down to the "delicate" ferret wrestling against his arm and at last raised his paws into the air to release him at Grubbage's command. "Weh heh heh heh!" He'd sign the new form as it was presented to him, writing a single legible E and...

"'S Emil." So said Emil, raising the feather and his paw up to his chest, smearing a tiny bit of ink over his gambeson. He seemed content to leave them with the shortening of his name, looking to Grubbage and yawning rather impolitely as he sized him up. "Mmmnnnh. Arrite... I get it. It's...

The badger turned his head to look through the shop's window and out to the rainy streets beyond, observing almost longingly as the rain collected in droplets on the glass and in puddles atop the dirt and stone outside. Was he really going to be a Fogey? Probably not. "Ehhhh... I bet they want...

A big smile returned to Emilio's face as Griblo put an arm around him and gave him a friendly smack. Like drinking buddies! It didn't even matter if he was selling phony relics, maybe they could just get along after all. And he could get himself a job- unless- Mr. Golden Justice suggested he...

Emilio threw his paws up to shoulder level and showed their rough and scratched pads, innocently 'putting his paws up' through the owner's angry speech. Fair enough then, the shop wasn't any place to be fighting in, especially when none of them had actually bought anything. While he could...