If they still had the boat, Beau would’ve been pretty sure she’d fallen off it.
She’d never fallen off the boat before (and it was long gone), but it was the first thing her brain could come up with, being washed up on a shore like this with absolutely zero memory of anything that had preceded it, at least not immediately.
Her head throbbed--no worse than any other hangover she’d ever had--but she got to her unsteady feet and brushed herself off as best she could, trying to find something with which to tie her hair up just in time to get rushed by automatons. Oh no. Oh fuck no. “No, hey, stop--fucking--haven’t you bitches learned the Henry Crabgrass rules?” she managed to wrestle a towel away from one of them without too much fuss, giving it a firm kick to let it (and the others) know that she was not fucking interested.
Once she had a towel, she could take the time to get her bearings--if she had any inkling of where the fuck she was. This didn't look like any place she'd ever been, and that was...a problem. How did she possibly get this fucked up with poison immunity? And where the fuck was everyone else?
Well, there was nothing she could do about it now. Choosing a random direction, she pointed herself toward the nearby wooded area and hoped for the best, or at the very least, a familiar face.
02: Acute Beef Poisoning
There had been very little by way of actual bearings-getting since washing up, but stumbling upon a carnival was kind of the same thing, right? And Beau was never one to turn down a little bit of fun. Even if everything here was a little weird.
She checked everything out, enjoying the sights, and when she stumbled upon an eating contest, well…
Beau was a very competitive person. It was hard to say no to that. It was run, regrettably, by automatons, whom she still didn’t really trust, but she still sat down at the table and made her selection (cherry), cracking her knuckles and getting ready to eat. “I hope you’re prepared to get your ass kicked by my dope monk shit,” she said to the person sitting next to her.
03: Wildcard
(want something else? Just let me know; pm me here or on plurk georgiageorgia. I am mostly voicetesting as I’ve never written her before so… just let me know!)
Beauregard Lionett | Critical Role
If they still had the boat, Beau would’ve been pretty sure she’d fallen off it.
She’d never fallen off the boat before (and it was long gone), but it was the first thing her brain could come up with, being washed up on a shore like this with absolutely zero memory of anything that had preceded it, at least not immediately.
Her head throbbed--no worse than any other hangover she’d ever had--but she got to her unsteady feet and brushed herself off as best she could, trying to find something with which to tie her hair up just in time to get rushed by automatons. Oh no. Oh fuck no. “No, hey, stop--fucking--haven’t you bitches learned the Henry Crabgrass rules?” she managed to wrestle a towel away from one of them without too much fuss, giving it a firm kick to let it (and the others) know that she was not fucking interested.
Once she had a towel, she could take the time to get her bearings--if she had any inkling of where the fuck she was. This didn't look like any place she'd ever been, and that was...a problem. How did she possibly get this fucked up with poison immunity? And where the fuck was everyone else?
Well, there was nothing she could do about it now. Choosing a random direction, she pointed herself toward the nearby wooded area and hoped for the best, or at the very least, a familiar face.
02: Acute Beef Poisoning
There had been very little by way of actual bearings-getting since washing up, but stumbling upon a carnival was kind of the same thing, right? And Beau was never one to turn down a little bit of fun. Even if everything here was a little weird.
She checked everything out, enjoying the sights, and when she stumbled upon an eating contest, well…
Beau was a very competitive person. It was hard to say no to that. It was run, regrettably, by automatons, whom she still didn’t really trust, but she still sat down at the table and made her selection (cherry), cracking her knuckles and getting ready to eat. “I hope you’re prepared to get your ass kicked by my dope monk shit,” she said to the person sitting next to her.
03: Wildcard
(want something else? Just let me know; pm me here or on plurk