Submission (#575) Approved
User
Submitted
29 May 2024, 19:06:58 UTC (6 months ago)
Processed
30 May 2024, 16:38:59 UTC (6 months ago) by Lieu
Comments
Summary: Faustus' endless generosity during the games is taken advantage of by a couple of his neighbors
(Breakdown: +6 for two additional adult crederians (Anson and Briar), +2 patron bonus (patreon UN reed))
**
Faustus didn’t know how he’d acquired a tail, or why Anson (whom he recognized from the shops around his home) and their sleepy little friend (whom he did not) had decided to do so in the first place. Despite his best efforts, Faustus hadn’t been able to shake them. And whenever they’d managed to corner him, the bowroo would insist that it wouldn’t be neighborly to not help him advantage himself of the Faire’s offerings.
Squinting up at him, with their hands on their hips in a manner they probably believed thoughtful, they said, “You’re tall enough, I think you could have a good shot at the poles.” The leloko at their side nodded in agreement, green hair bouncing.
“I’m not interested in the poles,” Faustus replied. Then, seeing the wrinkle form between Anson’s eyes as they puzzled it out, followed up with, “Or the targets. Or the booth games. What I’d really like is to find a corner to read. I’ve a paper due in a month’s time, and this has all been a tremendous waste.”
“Tell ‘em you were busy! If they’re worth anythin’ they’ll understand.” Satisfied, Anson nodded, crossing their arms in front of their chest. “Besides, your research can’t be worth too much if it ain’t able to handle a little break.”
“Oh? What’re you writing abo—“
“Briar!” Anson quickly covered her mouth, making a shushing gesture. “You’re opening him up for excuses!”
She shook her head, stepping back. “It’s just, if he’s busy… maybe we should leave him to it. If he doesn’t have time to spend with us, we shouldn’t push him.”
She had perfect doe eyes, even Faustus could admit that. Which meant, of course, that Anson was never going to be able to hold their position. “I guess. If you really think so,” they were mumbling, scuffing their paws through the dirt path and kicking up dust.
It was all so perfectly calculated to make him the bad guy. Faustus looked up at the sky and made a promise to himself to spend more time on curse removal. His whole year could not be like this. He sighed, holding up his hands in defeat. “What games did you have in mind?”
“Oh, really?” Briar clapped her paws together, her huge eyes sparkling. Faustus was even surer he must’ve done something wretched to somebody very powerful, if only he could remember it. “Anson, we should have him try the targets for us.”
Faustus narrowed his eyes, shifted his weight to his full height. “For you?”
“Sh-sh-sh!!” Anson laughed dismissively and waved him to follow them. “’Us,’ as in, the group! All three! Y’know!”
They led him to where fairegoers were firing bolts of magic and arrows into the sky, just as often missing the lazily drifting painted clay targets as they hit. This was what they wanted him for? He looked suspiciously at Anson. “You’ve the hands for a bow. Why aren’t you participating?”
“They’ve been ban—“ Anson once again dove in front of Briar.
They flexed and laughed. “I don’t have the upper body strength, s’all! Honest!”
Faustus supposed he did, or at least he could muster it given the need. And the prize pool was rather attractive, full of unique sweets and baked goods and ribbon adornments he thought would look fetching stitched to one of his winter coats. “Alright… I’ll try once. And then you both scamper off.”
While they cheered him on, he took the firing line and let the bulk of his arms feather apart to drape off his elbows, allowing him a more precise grip on the bow he was passed. Faustus was careful, meticulous in nearly all that he did, and lining up his one shot was no different. He held a breath and it seemed to him that his little audience had gotten awfully quiet, supposed it must have been out of respect, and released the arrow on the exhale. The target shattered with a satisfying pop and, pleased with himself, he turned to boast to Anson and Briar only to find them gone.
“Ah.” The bab proctoring the game coughed and Faustus stopped scanning the crowd for his earlier entourage. “I’m so sorry sir, but it seems our prize offering has… disappeared? You’re welcome to keep the ribbon from the target, though.”
(Breakdown: +6 for two additional adult crederians (Anson and Briar), +2 patron bonus (patreon UN reed))
**
Faustus didn’t know how he’d acquired a tail, or why Anson (whom he recognized from the shops around his home) and their sleepy little friend (whom he did not) had decided to do so in the first place. Despite his best efforts, Faustus hadn’t been able to shake them. And whenever they’d managed to corner him, the bowroo would insist that it wouldn’t be neighborly to not help him advantage himself of the Faire’s offerings.
Squinting up at him, with their hands on their hips in a manner they probably believed thoughtful, they said, “You’re tall enough, I think you could have a good shot at the poles.” The leloko at their side nodded in agreement, green hair bouncing.
“I’m not interested in the poles,” Faustus replied. Then, seeing the wrinkle form between Anson’s eyes as they puzzled it out, followed up with, “Or the targets. Or the booth games. What I’d really like is to find a corner to read. I’ve a paper due in a month’s time, and this has all been a tremendous waste.”
“Tell ‘em you were busy! If they’re worth anythin’ they’ll understand.” Satisfied, Anson nodded, crossing their arms in front of their chest. “Besides, your research can’t be worth too much if it ain’t able to handle a little break.”
“Oh? What’re you writing abo—“
“Briar!” Anson quickly covered her mouth, making a shushing gesture. “You’re opening him up for excuses!”
She shook her head, stepping back. “It’s just, if he’s busy… maybe we should leave him to it. If he doesn’t have time to spend with us, we shouldn’t push him.”
She had perfect doe eyes, even Faustus could admit that. Which meant, of course, that Anson was never going to be able to hold their position. “I guess. If you really think so,” they were mumbling, scuffing their paws through the dirt path and kicking up dust.
It was all so perfectly calculated to make him the bad guy. Faustus looked up at the sky and made a promise to himself to spend more time on curse removal. His whole year could not be like this. He sighed, holding up his hands in defeat. “What games did you have in mind?”
“Oh, really?” Briar clapped her paws together, her huge eyes sparkling. Faustus was even surer he must’ve done something wretched to somebody very powerful, if only he could remember it. “Anson, we should have him try the targets for us.”
Faustus narrowed his eyes, shifted his weight to his full height. “For you?”
“Sh-sh-sh!!” Anson laughed dismissively and waved him to follow them. “’Us,’ as in, the group! All three! Y’know!”
They led him to where fairegoers were firing bolts of magic and arrows into the sky, just as often missing the lazily drifting painted clay targets as they hit. This was what they wanted him for? He looked suspiciously at Anson. “You’ve the hands for a bow. Why aren’t you participating?”
“They’ve been ban—“ Anson once again dove in front of Briar.
They flexed and laughed. “I don’t have the upper body strength, s’all! Honest!”
Faustus supposed he did, or at least he could muster it given the need. And the prize pool was rather attractive, full of unique sweets and baked goods and ribbon adornments he thought would look fetching stitched to one of his winter coats. “Alright… I’ll try once. And then you both scamper off.”
While they cheered him on, he took the firing line and let the bulk of his arms feather apart to drape off his elbows, allowing him a more precise grip on the bow he was passed. Faustus was careful, meticulous in nearly all that he did, and lining up his one shot was no different. He held a breath and it seemed to him that his little audience had gotten awfully quiet, supposed it must have been out of respect, and released the arrow on the exhale. The target shattered with a satisfying pop and, pleased with himself, he turned to boast to Anson and Briar only to find them gone.
“Ah.” The bab proctoring the game coughed and Faustus stopped scanning the crowd for his earlier entourage. “I’m so sorry sir, but it seems our prize offering has… disappeared? You’re welcome to keep the ribbon from the target, though.”
Rewards
| Reward | Amount |
|---|---|
| ✨ Coins | 17 |
| 💎 Magia Fragments | 2 |
Characters
Leloko-139: Briar
No rewards set.
Pawbird-54: Faustus
No rewards set.
Bowroo-045: Anson
No rewards set.