Post by mildofthewild on Apr 26, 2020 20:13:32 GMT -5
"Out of the way! Stop that thief!"
"He stole my furs, that cretin stole my furs!"
"He made off with my satchel of apples!"
"AAAAAIIIIIIIEEEEE! Someone stole my brassiere!"
The screams of not only guardsmen but residents fill the streets of Illia Town, a hot pursuit taking place as armored guards swarm after a lone figure jumping from merchant stalls, slowly making his way upwards towards the rooftops. A pair of baggy, brown worker's pants flutter as the man's feet pound against the stone tiles and flutter as he dives through open windows. His open neck shirt flails wildly around his lithe body as he pumps his arms in a sprinter's dash, and the glee in his eyes was concealed by a pair of rather oversized sunglasses. The biggest distinction of who this ruffian was was the grin plastered across his face.
B.G. Tempo.
"Grrrr, put some backbone into it! Pump those legs, do not let him get away again!" One of the guards shouts, holding a lance aloft as they point at the fleeting thief. Several of the soldiers got the distinct feeling he was even playing with them, as even if they found a slight chance to grab at the flaunting cloth waving behind the him, he'd manage to pull ahead without much effort and keep the game going.
"Sheesh, these guys are slow today...hey! You still back there?! Come on, pound those chicken legs! Mush, boys, mush!" B.G. says, making an acrobatic leap and landing on an overturned barrel, riding it through the streets while cackling like a maniac.
"WHAT?! DON'T YOU MOCK US!" One of the guards says, facing puffing up as he pulls ahead of the others, more determined than ever to catch him.
"Woah, look at you!" B.G. says, turning around and watching the soldier, all while traversing backwards. "Who would've guessed that'd put you in gear? Alright, in that case, c'mon, work off those meat pies and mead! If I knew making fun of you guys would speed ya up, I'd do it all the time!"
"YOU DO DO IT ALL THE TIME!" The guard shouts back, enraged and puffing heavily as they reach their hand out to grab the thief. "But now I'm taking you in for it! I'll finally have caught you, B.G. The Top!"
B.G. almost seems to be egging the guard on as he approaches, even going so far as to extend his arm for him to grab. Closer...closer....
"Eh. Bored now." The thief mutters before grinning wildly, jumping off of the barrel...and onto the guard's head! Using him as a footstool, the thief kicks off onto the nearest flagpole, swinging once, twice, thrice, before flinging himself to the rooftops, heading for the wall dividing the sectors.
"Well, boys, I'd love to say it was fun...actually no, I wouldn't, but thanks for the loot! We'll do this again soon! But until then, my audience, I bid you...adieu..." B.G. says, pulling from his loot bag a rather large brassiere that he fashions onto himself, brimming with confidence before he bounds away, cackling as the guards cease their chase.
"...He got away..."
"Again..."
"Grrrr....I HATE B.G. THE TOP!"
It took most of the afternoon to head back to Barbada Town, B.G. fidgeting on his steed as he was itching for something to do on the journey. He didn't even get to use his spinny tops...
He pulls out the toys at this thought, watching bemusedly as the objects dance on the tip of his finger. A travelling merchant passes along next to the thief, giving a friendly wave before noting his strange choice of attire; he wore a fur liner around his neck and a large brassiere on his head, the straps bouncing lightly against his cheeks as he turns. With a slight wave himself, the two part ways, the merchant muttering about young ones these days...
Finally, around the onset of evening, B.G. makes his way back into the worn and swaying Barbada Town, chuckling lightly as he jumps down from his horse and collects his loot.
"Same time tomorrow, Sassafras. Go do...I dunno, whatever it is you do." The young man says, giving a small slap to the horse's rear that sets it trotting away, to god knows where. Reaching in, the thief takes a large, juicy crunch of one of the apples, the core seeming to twirl on his finger tip before he tosses it in the air, catching it and taking another bite. Not the best haul, but hey, at least he can eat.
"Alright, let's see...pendant...underwear...few beli...sheesh, who'd figure nobles to be so stingy, hardly carrying anything anymore," he mutters again, disappointed as he heads for a restaurant. They'd at least help to buy a decent meal, something he hadn't had in a good while...
"He stole my furs, that cretin stole my furs!"
"He made off with my satchel of apples!"
"AAAAAIIIIIIIEEEEE! Someone stole my brassiere!"
The screams of not only guardsmen but residents fill the streets of Illia Town, a hot pursuit taking place as armored guards swarm after a lone figure jumping from merchant stalls, slowly making his way upwards towards the rooftops. A pair of baggy, brown worker's pants flutter as the man's feet pound against the stone tiles and flutter as he dives through open windows. His open neck shirt flails wildly around his lithe body as he pumps his arms in a sprinter's dash, and the glee in his eyes was concealed by a pair of rather oversized sunglasses. The biggest distinction of who this ruffian was was the grin plastered across his face.
B.G. Tempo.
"Grrrr, put some backbone into it! Pump those legs, do not let him get away again!" One of the guards shouts, holding a lance aloft as they point at the fleeting thief. Several of the soldiers got the distinct feeling he was even playing with them, as even if they found a slight chance to grab at the flaunting cloth waving behind the him, he'd manage to pull ahead without much effort and keep the game going.
"Sheesh, these guys are slow today...hey! You still back there?! Come on, pound those chicken legs! Mush, boys, mush!" B.G. says, making an acrobatic leap and landing on an overturned barrel, riding it through the streets while cackling like a maniac.
"WHAT?! DON'T YOU MOCK US!" One of the guards says, facing puffing up as he pulls ahead of the others, more determined than ever to catch him.
"Woah, look at you!" B.G. says, turning around and watching the soldier, all while traversing backwards. "Who would've guessed that'd put you in gear? Alright, in that case, c'mon, work off those meat pies and mead! If I knew making fun of you guys would speed ya up, I'd do it all the time!"
"YOU DO DO IT ALL THE TIME!" The guard shouts back, enraged and puffing heavily as they reach their hand out to grab the thief. "But now I'm taking you in for it! I'll finally have caught you, B.G. The Top!"
B.G. almost seems to be egging the guard on as he approaches, even going so far as to extend his arm for him to grab. Closer...closer....
"Eh. Bored now." The thief mutters before grinning wildly, jumping off of the barrel...and onto the guard's head! Using him as a footstool, the thief kicks off onto the nearest flagpole, swinging once, twice, thrice, before flinging himself to the rooftops, heading for the wall dividing the sectors.
"Well, boys, I'd love to say it was fun...actually no, I wouldn't, but thanks for the loot! We'll do this again soon! But until then, my audience, I bid you...adieu..." B.G. says, pulling from his loot bag a rather large brassiere that he fashions onto himself, brimming with confidence before he bounds away, cackling as the guards cease their chase.
"...He got away..."
"Again..."
"Grrrr....I HATE B.G. THE TOP!"
It took most of the afternoon to head back to Barbada Town, B.G. fidgeting on his steed as he was itching for something to do on the journey. He didn't even get to use his spinny tops...
He pulls out the toys at this thought, watching bemusedly as the objects dance on the tip of his finger. A travelling merchant passes along next to the thief, giving a friendly wave before noting his strange choice of attire; he wore a fur liner around his neck and a large brassiere on his head, the straps bouncing lightly against his cheeks as he turns. With a slight wave himself, the two part ways, the merchant muttering about young ones these days...
Finally, around the onset of evening, B.G. makes his way back into the worn and swaying Barbada Town, chuckling lightly as he jumps down from his horse and collects his loot.
"Same time tomorrow, Sassafras. Go do...I dunno, whatever it is you do." The young man says, giving a small slap to the horse's rear that sets it trotting away, to god knows where. Reaching in, the thief takes a large, juicy crunch of one of the apples, the core seeming to twirl on his finger tip before he tosses it in the air, catching it and taking another bite. Not the best haul, but hey, at least he can eat.
"Alright, let's see...pendant...underwear...few beli...sheesh, who'd figure nobles to be so stingy, hardly carrying anything anymore," he mutters again, disappointed as he heads for a restaurant. They'd at least help to buy a decent meal, something he hadn't had in a good while...