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The Newcago Court


Quiver

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You are very welcome, if you ever want some snowcones just ask anytime. I do require some cutlery

 

* descends from the heavens carrying trays of assorted spoons, forks, and knives. *

I hope these appease thee, fair Queen. These are great times for cutlery enthusiasts; my researchers have nearly uncovered the secret of Shardspoons and that most tricky device, the spork.

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I want one.

 

Art thou worthy?

 

* pulls out an ancient chest, emblazoned with primordial characters representing the various types of waffle irons *

 

If thou art a true ally of the Wafflesworn, then I would be happy to bestow this most supernal of dining implements upon thee.

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I would gladly ally myself for such a gift.

 

* Matrim Bloody Cauthon has recieved the SHARDSPORK *

 

Wield it wisely, Matrim. Spoons and forks were not fused so lesser men could idly twirl them in their fingers. Only great men are worthy of this most precious of relics. Prove yourself worthy of the Shardspork, and only then will the Shardspork will be worthy of you.

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A warm desert wind howls through the hall, coalesceing into a darkness in the middle of the court. The shadows unfold like an enormous pair of wings, revealing a figure clad in black and teal, blonde hair pinned back, and a devious smile upon her face. She turns in a slow circle, regarding the other members in the room with a calm collectedness.

 

"Look at all of the fun events I miss while I'm not paying attention," she says.

 

She turns back to the throne, sweeping an elaborate curtsy, though whether the gesture is sincere or mocking, it's difficult to tell. "Good evening, your majesty. I hope that my followers have not been causing you too much trouble. I was unware of their activities here, as it seems they did not remember to inform me of this excursion."

 

She spares a glance for the amassed Featherblades. "I do not give them orders, nor do I claim leadership over them. Their services to me are entirely voluntary and of their own volition. I did not seek an army, yet their dedication is admiarble and... useful." 

 

She turns back to the icy queen, taking slow, deliberate steps forward. "I see you have wished to speak with me. Seeing as no one mentioned Renarin, this meeting slipped beneath my gaze. I am here now, however, and curious as to how this will proceed."

 

With a sudden smirk, she looks towards the 'traitor', tipping her head in a quick nod of acknowledgement. "Qu'est-ce que 'sup, Quiv?"

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The Highprince of Cutlery takes a deep breath. With a low kneel, he quickly steps forward and places a plate full of freshly-baked Belgian waffles on the ground between the two great leaders. His noble task done, he scampers into the shadows and watches from afar.

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* descends from the heavens carrying trays of assorted spoons, forks, and knives. *

I hope these appease thee, fair Queen. These are great times for cutlery enthusiasts; my researchers have nearly uncovered the secret of Shardspoons and that most tricky device, the spork.

Thank you very much.

These are perfect.

Gasps. A spork! It sounds so revolutionary! So exciting and wondrous!

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A warm desert wind howls through the hall, coalesceing into a darkness in the middle of the court. The shadows unfold like an enormous pair of wings, revealing a figure clad in black and teal, blonde hair pinned back, and a devious smile upon her face. She turns in a slow circle, regarding the other members in the room with a calm collectedness.

"Look at all of the fun events I miss while I'm not paying attention," she says.

She turns back to the throne, sweeping an elaborate curtsy, though whether the gesture is sincere or mocking, it's difficult to tell. "Good evening, your majesty. I hope that my followers have not been causing you too much trouble. I was unware of their activities here, as it seems they did not remember to inform me of this excursion."

She spares a glance for the amassed Featherblades. "I do not give them orders, nor do I claim leadership over them. Their services to me are entirely voluntary and of their own volition. I did not seek an army, yet their dedication is admiarble and... useful."

She turns back to the icy queen, taking slow, deliberate steps forward. "I see you have wished to speak with me. Seeing as no one mentioned Renarin, this meeting slipped beneath my gaze. I am here now, however, and curious as to how this will proceed."

With a sudden smirk, she looks towards the 'traitor', tipping her head in a quick nod of acknowledgement. "Qu'est-ce que 'sup, Quiv?"

Hello, Lady Feather.

Your followers and mine and myself had a most wonderful tea today. Would you and I like to be allies again the Shroomies?

Hands her a cup of tea.

Please sit down my lady,

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Hello, Lady Feather.

Your followers and mine and myself had a most wonderful tea today. Would you and I like to be allies again the Shroomies?

Hands her a cup of tea.

Please sit down my lady,

 

*eyes the cup* I'm a coffee girl, myself. However I've come to make a clarification. Shroom is not to be harmed by any hand but mine. We are kismeses and kismeses do not share. It is a very complicated sort of rivalry. I extend no protection for his followers, however foolish they may be, but the only person who is allowed to go after Shroom himself is me. 

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Mmm... a pity.

 

(Thinks between a bite of a cookie) WaitDear Panda? 

 

Lwd, I'd really appreciate it if you went back to your original and didn't copy Lurth. Because I just might be the Dark thing in the night 

 

(finishes eating cookie)

Edited by Lightsworn Panda
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Mmm... a pity.

 

(Thinks between a bite of a cookie) WaitDear Panda? 

 

Lwd, I'd really appreciate it if you went back to your original and didn't copy Lurth. Because I just might be the Dark thing in the night 

 

(finishes eating cookie)

*hisses from within* "I am him and he is me. He is the man I'll never be and I am the man he fears to be."

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See, Lwd. I know all about the dangers of running multiple copies of the same person. Quiver can help me explain. You end up copying yourself and then someone steals a giant robot and you have to go on the run and then two of your doubles fall in love with each other and it's all just a big mess. Quiver, back me up?

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