Once upon a time, an enterprising Wind dragon named Swipp set up a stall at the trading post, promising rare and exclusive items to all comers. As new merchandise poured in from the hidden corners of Sornieth and his clientele grew, he roped in his children to help with his expanding business.
His elder daughter, Pipp, is happy to continue the family business with her pop. His younger, Tripp, doesn't want to be here, and will bitterly let you know that at every turn. She doesn't want to be a hawker. Her dreams lie - or, considering her element, fly - elsewhere.
It used to be that Tripp was an unwilling part-timer; sometimes her dad would call her in when their stock began to overflow, less frequently than the eager sister. She still got to spend plenty of time flying with her friends, or pursuing her other interests. But now - now even [I]that[/I] recourse is lost to her. Now she is full-time.
She's stuck in a dead-end job she hates on a 24-hour shift, seven days per week. Tripp doesn't ever get to sleep. Look at her eyes, the deep shadows carved beneath them. You know this is a dragon with a terrible caffeine addiction. It's the only way she can make it through the day, each unchanged from the last. She charges two thousand treasure extra, as she must to procure the supply of Coffee Bean Hawkmoths her dad never orders, but it can never be enough. The future is always the same. She sees no color anymore.
There is nothing left for Tripp but the Swap Stand.
[I]free tripp 2k19[/I]
(Courtesy of Hyzenthlaay)
[img]https://i.imgur.com/Pijshfu.png[/img]
Once upon a time, an enterprising Wind dragon named Swipp set up a stall at the trading post, promising rare and exclusive items to all comers. As new merchandise poured in from the hidden corners of Sornieth and his clientele grew, he roped in his children to help with his expanding business.
His elder daughter, Pipp, is happy to continue the family business with her pop. His younger, Tripp, doesn't want to be here, and will bitterly let you know that at every turn. She doesn't want to be a hawker. Her dreams lie - or, considering her element, fly - elsewhere.
It used to be that Tripp was an unwilling part-timer; sometimes her dad would call her in when their stock began to overflow, less frequently than the eager sister. She still got to spend plenty of time flying with her friends, or pursuing her other interests. But now - now even that recourse is lost to her. Now she is full-time.
She's stuck in a dead-end job she hates on a 24-hour shift, seven days per week. Tripp doesn't ever get to sleep. Look at her eyes, the deep shadows carved beneath them. You know this is a dragon with a terrible caffeine addiction. It's the only way she can make it through the day, each unchanged from the last. She charges two thousand treasure extra, as she must to procure the supply of Coffee Bean Hawkmoths her dad never orders, but it can never be enough. The future is always the same. She sees no color anymore.
There is nothing left for Tripp but the Swap Stand.
My username isn't a reference to Borderlands 2, got it from the killer doll episode of The Twilight Zone!
You get [I]one[/I] detail wrong and suddenly it doesn't matter that a young dragon is being ground to dust beneath the rapidly spinning wheels of capitalism as we speak
She's selling black lace tail ornaments now. They represent her hopes for the future. Roses plucked in their prime and frozen for a single purpose, where they remain until time withers them. Crushed red on a black expanse, with petals like blood set into a fabric as drab and faded as her broken dreams. And like all of them, sold to anyone who wanders by for a pittance.
[item=black lace tail ornament]
You get one detail wrong and suddenly it doesn't matter that a young dragon is being ground to dust beneath the rapidly spinning wheels of capitalism as we speak
She's selling black lace tail ornaments now. They represent her hopes for the future. Roses plucked in their prime and frozen for a single purpose, where they remain until time withers them. Crushed red on a black expanse, with petals like blood set into a fabric as drab and faded as her broken dreams. And like all of them, sold to anyone who wanders by for a pittance.
