Information
Chanteur has a minion!
Blushu the Cheridon
Blushu the Cheridon
Chanteur
Legacy Name: Chanteur
The
Sweetheart HarvesterOwner:
AmanyaAge: 14 years, 9 months, 2 weeks
Born: September 11th, 2009
Adopted: 8 years, 4 months, 4 weeks ago
Adopted: January 27th, 2016
Statistics
- Level: 23
- Strength: 32
- Defense: 14
- Speed: 12
- Health: 17
- HP: 17/17
- Intelligence: 32
- Books Read: 27
- Food Eaten: 0
- Job: Surfboard Rental Clerk
Rubin Chanteur
The man sipped thoughtfully at his Peroni as he stared out onto the sea of motorcycles that was a Roman street. "Chanteur, you're sure this is the best thing to do?"
"Why ask me?" The young man leaned back in his chair, savoring the evening breeze. "Since when have I ever had a say? It's your life, Gregson, mate."
"But this isn't just about me, you're in this too. We're in this together."
Syrius looked up at the watery sky and chuckled. "Remember that one time in Valencia? That girl at the train station."
"Somehow I remember less about the girl and more about you jumping off the train because we'd missed our stop. And me following, obligated. The epitome of idiocy."
"... The girl was at McDonald's in the station. She'd accidentally dropped a five Euro bill in the trash can and you helped her look for it. But in the process she lost a coin, the one she'd intended to use to buy an ice cream. You gave her the change from your coffee."
"And this is relevant how?"
"Well, it was nice of you."
"Anyone else would've done the same."
Syrius shrugged. "Maybe."
"You wouldn't?"
"I didn't. That was all you."
Gregson shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I see what you're getting at, and it's not working. You're trying to stop me from feeling guilty about... this whole situation. But really, I mean, first of all, the pills won't get rid of the problem immediately. I can always change my mind, right?"
"You're rubbish at convincing yourself." Syrius motioned at the older man's watch. "What time's it? You'll be late for the appointment."
"Nearly quarter-past. You're right, we'd better get going." He stood and awkwardly retrieved his briefcase from beneath the table as Syrius swiftly stood without moving his chair a centimeter. Agile bastard.
They stood at the stoplight, waiting to cross. And Gregson daydreamed.
"Syrius, what if, per se, that same little girl were crossing the street right now. That oncoming bus would surely hit her, wouldn't you say?"
"I wouldn't save her, just so you know."
"But see, that's the very issue. I wouldn't save her either – not alone. You are more action-oriented, Syrius." Gregson sighed. "I really don't mind having you in my head. Not at all."
Syrius grinned up at the sky. "Greg, the treatment won't get rid of me. It'll just turn us into one person again, the way it should be, and people will stop staring at you for talking to thin air."
The man sipped thoughtfully at his Peroni as he stared out onto the sea of motorcycles that was a Roman street. "Chanteur, you're sure this is the best thing to do?"
"Why ask me?" The young man leaned back in his chair, savoring the evening breeze. "Since when have I ever had a say? It's your life, Gregson, mate."
"But this isn't just about me, you're in this too. We're in this together."
Syrius looked up at the watery sky and chuckled. "Remember that one time in Valencia? That girl at the train station."
"Somehow I remember less about the girl and more about you jumping off the train because we'd missed our stop. And me following, obligated. The epitome of idiocy."
"... The girl was at McDonald's in the station. She'd accidentally dropped a five Euro bill in the trash can and you helped her look for it. But in the process she lost a coin, the one she'd intended to use to buy an ice cream. You gave her the change from your coffee."
"And this is relevant how?"
"Well, it was nice of you."
"Anyone else would've done the same."
Syrius shrugged. "Maybe."
"You wouldn't?"
"I didn't. That was all you."
Gregson shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I see what you're getting at, and it's not working. You're trying to stop me from feeling guilty about... this whole situation. But really, I mean, first of all, the pills won't get rid of the problem immediately. I can always change my mind, right?"
"You're rubbish at convincing yourself." Syrius motioned at the older man's watch. "What time's it? You'll be late for the appointment."
"Nearly quarter-past. You're right, we'd better get going." He stood and awkwardly retrieved his briefcase from beneath the table as Syrius swiftly stood without moving his chair a centimeter. Agile bastard.
They stood at the stoplight, waiting to cross. And Gregson daydreamed.
"Syrius, what if, per se, that same little girl were crossing the street right now. That oncoming bus would surely hit her, wouldn't you say?"
"I wouldn't save her, just so you know."
"But see, that's the very issue. I wouldn't save her either – not alone. You are more action-oriented, Syrius." Gregson sighed. "I really don't mind having you in my head. Not at all."
Syrius grinned up at the sky. "Greg, the treatment won't get rid of me. It'll just turn us into one person again, the way it should be, and people will stop staring at you for talking to thin air."
Pet Treasure
Red Teapot
Illumis Arid Ring
Grave Reminder