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OOC: Which makes it even more amusing. Let me explain: what most Americans call "cute", what the Japanese call "moe" ... I call "ridiculous".

BIC: stare Like a fungus.

*Sometimes, it's hard to tell if 'Bait is being friendly in a mean way, or mean in a friendly way. This ... is most definitely one of those times. He glances skyward once again, then takes a piece of cheeseless bread.*

Assuming you start at age twenty, and live for one hundred years, moving every five years, that's sixteen moves; twenty moves in a normal century. On the other hand, after thirty years or so, it's usually safe to go back to a place; anyone who remembers you will have probably moved on themselves, or their memories will be hazy enough that they won't have your exact features still memorized. Along those lines, you can leave goods or land behind for "someone" to inherit -- that someone being yourself, of course, twenty years after the "old you" has left an area. Just claim to be your own niece. Great investment, too.

*He takes a bite of the bread, surprised that it still seems oven-fresh.* And that's assuming you never find a spot to stay. There's a few out there ... most of them are off-dimension, but there's more than a few in Gaea.

OOC: Humbug. It makes everyone else ridiculous.

BIC: *The man sighs. It's not that he's opposed to demons ... well, he is, but he realizes also that they have their place in the greater cosmos. Unfortunately, that place is usually opposite the side he's chosen ... or that chose him, depending on one's viewpoint. Besides, a demoness so ... well, borderline endearing causes him to have to remind himself constantly to maintain a distance while still being civil. The last demon he dealt with, Lylli by name, was never this kind of a problem; their relationship consisted of constant insults and veiled threats, but nothing else. To his credit, though, he hasn't shown teeth yet; hasn't even truly touched steel since she climbed off his chest.*

Trust me, I'd noticed you like talking. And I've had to move around a lot myself.

*He stands, stretching, then does something he feels incredibly stupid ... and yet, at this moment, incredibly important. Stooping slightly, he brings his face closer to Niana's, even more so than when she jumped on him in the doorway ... uncomfortably close, where he could either kiss her or bite her nose off. But, of course, he does neither.*

Did you really think you were the only one who's seen more than a fair share of summers? wink

*He straightens, continuing to speak before his words can sink in.* I move as I'm led to move, and I serve whatever function the Lord finds for me. If He wants me tending bar, I do so ... and do so my way, making sure there's no fighting in the place. If He wants me on the front lines of a battle, that's where I'll be, trying to end the fight as quickly as possible. I go where He directs ... and that contents me.

OOC: And that's unusual how? By the by, 'Bait's not scarred, nor leather-skinned, though I'll concede his breath.

Sorry 'bout yesterday. I left before you posted, and I never got a chance to get back online.

BIC: *Dragonbait sighs, and this time, when he looks towards the heavens ... his prayer is silent and obvious and quite sincere, if a bit grouchy. After a moment, he looks back to the demoness.*

You have told me much of your life, and it is only fair that I do the same. I have seen more than two hundred and forty years pass ... and I can reasonably expect another thousand more. My body has ... healed rapidly, sometimes almost instantly. I am not immortal, technically ... though for all practical purposes, I might as well be. So, like yourself ... I have been called a demon, chased from place to place. The difference is, in my case, it's not justified. So I, too, have moved around a lot -- and with that, many occupations.

*That's not entirely accurate, of course, but there's no way he's going into the details right now. Instead, he walks to a nearby tree, setting his fingertips against the wood as he silently growls at whatever twists of fate have caused him to take a demon as a confidante.*

OOC: Is it just me, or is it funny that your character is the "older woman"?

BIC: Don't ...

*It is said by some that flattery and vanity are a demon's chief weapons, and naturally 'Bait has heard this. But it is also far from his mind when he speaks.*

Don't ... give me more credit than is my due ... and don't be deceived by what you haven't seen. There are places, here in this world, where the unusual have been welcomed. I lived in one for a time, and when I left, it was of my own free will, with no torches or pitchforks at my back. I'm not sure how a pacifist demon would fare, but ... they do exist. If you have a heart, then take heart in that.

*A piece of tree bark flakes off 'neath his fingers, and 'Bait glances at it, wondering casually just how an animal, especially a sea animal, can bear soil enough to plant this many trees ... or how this whole fiasco started. Definitely cause for a bit of poking about in the library, looking for the Spelljammer's origins. But these are idle thoughts. He's very much aware of the woman standing beside him ... a possible enemy, one he's just given priviledged information like a fool, but also a possible friend ... *

May I never fall short ... of the faith you show me.

OOC: And to make it even more ridiculous ... I just grabbed your booty again.

BIC: *He cannot return her compliment ... not because he is unwilling, nor even because of her demonic nature, but because he is slow to judge such things. So, instead, he smiles mischievously.* Technically, you met Ontaros first ... though I'll concede that our host, being (as far as I can tell) insane, isn't exactly a good representation of our race as a whole.

*Then again, considering 'Bait's phenomenally low opinion of humanity, maybe Ontaros is an accurate representation. He moves past that.* And no offense, but you are far too quick to judge a person. Wait a while; I might still turn out to be someone you'd rather forget. Heh ... I'd have thought that a long life would have taught you patience.

*Still grinning, he moves back towards the remains of the feast.* We are both far too sober and maudlin for a picnic ... and I only know two possible remedies for that. The first is that we both lighten up. The second is that you help me pack. Then again, considering what doesn't remain in the basket, perhaps both would be in order. Besides, I begin to wonder what your succubus associate wanted with Lady SilverFang.

OOC: I kinda figured ... but I admit, I'm not seeing where 'Bait actually insulted her. More of a friendly gibe.

BIC: So, then, you're saying that Ontaros tried to kill you? He's human, unless mine eyes deceive me. Besides ...

*He points to a small "house" across the yard.* I had a rock roughly that size dropped 'pon my head ... and I don't think I need to tell you that it didn't stop at my head, but went clear down to my toes. If that didn't end my life ... well, I think I can still be excused for having rattled wits.

*Until now, his tone has been light-hearted and gentle. Now he shifts to somewhere between flirtling and mockery.* But please, please! Do not take offense at my words. I only state what I see and am told. If I tell you that I have trouble believing that any could wish harm on so beauteous a lady -- and quite young you look, too! Not a day over sixty! -- then you could be offended ... for "fifty" would be closer to the truth. But if you say I am the first, yet 'twas Ontaros who brought you hither ... well, I can only say that either you're quick to forgive, or his aim sucks. Which would you have it, O Lady of the Fiery Mood?

*Bowing, he takes her hand and ... yes, actually kisses it, as greeting nobility ... before dropping it and glaring at his now-red fingertips. Now his tone is more serious, and surprised.* What are you, fire elemental? Wait, demon ... never mind, silly question.

*And thus, does he remind the demon of his position: unafraid, and firmly planted. Anyone who expects otherwise from a paladin clearly knows little of the class ... and anyone who expects a reasonable reaction from 'Bait knows nothing whatsoever of him.*

OOC: Yet they've known each other only a few short hours, yet she's already decided he's respectable, maybe even a nice guy? She's impulsive ... which is impatient. *Gavel drops.* I rest my case.

And I figured either she'd swoon, or it'd be "man overboard". Either way, 'Bait would be dead meat. But you played it down the middle.

BIC: *He presses the lemonade to his lips briefly before commenting.* If it's not yours, I'd like very much to know who it does belong to. And if you want to understand Ontaros, I think I can simplify that right now ... give up. Either he's crazy and holding on to sanity by a thread, or he's sane and trying desperately to be crazy because it's easier. I've not met a mage yet who was in possession of all their marbles. I think it's from playing with their wands too much. Consider how many of them voluntarily make deals with your cousins, and you'll see my point.