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11/02/10(Tue)01:05 No.126507127, assuming he's a dude. A foppish, suave lady's man of a bard with a silver tongue. A vain, meticulous, irresponsible artist who lies as easily as he breathes. Very handy to get us into places where we're not allowed.
9, because he looks like he's been through hell and is still kicking. A veteran for sure, strong and silent and chock-full of down and dirty guerrilla tactical know-how. He can MacGyver together a plan to get us through tough times in one piece, and has no qualms about hurting people very badly in the process.
17, because DAT CHITIN, DEM ANTENNAE. Also, she seems like a stealthy type, can probably climb walls, excellent fine motor skills for disarming traps. Belligerent and no-nonsense and tsundere as hell. (Look at that blush and deny it. You can't.)
29 and 30 as our mage and his familiar, respectively, though sometimes it seems like it's the other way around. The guy is cold and logical and pragmatic, a walking encyclopedia who's highly conservative in battle, never taking out the big guns unless it's absolutely necessary. The ball is creepy and silent and shoots eldritch purple lightning at our foes, and engages in a sort of possession that forces its victims to tell us whatever we want while violet fire pours out of their eyes and mouth. It is, by all accounts, a very unpleasant experience that leaves psychological scars.
Sometimes the ball's surrounded by the corpses of small animals when we wake up. We try to ignore that. |