Recent content by Mackenzie Erris

"Dungeoneering..?" He scratched his chin and looked upward in a rather emotive display of thought... such was his nature ever since... never-mind. "Well, to be honest, I didn't spend much time underground until getting mixed up with her and her lot, they're crazy. We went to this tomb one...

As he lifted his mug and drank back, he got little more than a sip before there was an abrupt discomfort in his side. Not enough to cause him any great distress, but enough for him to stifle his drink and contain himself from the subtle choke he suffered. With a smug look on his face he set the...

"What the hell does this say? I recognize this guys name, but... what's the rest of it?" He was so used to it at this point, he didn't even hardly acknowledge the sigh and the roll of her eyes. He did, however, adjust the collar on his new jacket, flashing a toothy smile. A shaken head, and...

He opened the presents first. Of course he had. The jacket was of course his favoured item. Tunics... augh. There was something about the collars, he hated things around his neck. He'd do something about that, he supposed. As for the pants... He looked down at the ones he wore, torn and worn as...

It wasn't like him to be all to curious about things like these, but here he was, and so he found that if nothing else he could use it as an opportunity to learn a lil' something. If all that ended up being was having Magdalena actually agree with something he said then that was victory enough...

He trusted her assessment. Like he had any choice, but really he did. She knew her stuff, he'd figured out that much. Hell even some of the words she said, he knew they were common but he didn't know what they meant. What the hell is a Kresscross. Her choice of company however... well, it...

He sniffed at the air. Nothing more than dust, and thankfully he wasn't one to sneeze easily. But like this, it garnered him little more understanding than it would anyone else. It just smelled... old. He thought about her question, and he cast his eye behind him. "Well," he thought it was...

One look at his boots and his eyes shot up to Magdalena and he smiled quite broadly, saying, "he is a sweetheart, isn't he." He really didn't fault Esmond, and only saw the humour in it despite how inconvenient it was. He could tie the hell out of a knot, that was for sure. As for his other...

It was so oddly comfortable to just rest there a moment with his shoulders and arms finally free again. So much so, it was almost startling when Magdalena leaned over him. "I said pass me my pack," his eyes followed her finger to nearly the tip of his still very tender nose, "not pass me my...

Of all the things he could have chosen to do with this time, this was his grand plan: to squeeze himself through an opening that a small woman had enough difficulty getting through. He tried to move his arm a bit this way... the other arm that... he felt like a tangled mess with little more than...

From where Mack knelt by the opening, he remained mostly silent throughout the exchange. Even he glanced down at his own feet, and then he looked at Esmond's. Mack's were bigger, to which he smiled wryly before slowly frowning. He wasn't exactly sure what she meant either, or how it pertained...

Each passing moment seemed to heighten the collective anxiety of those present, and Mack wasn't immune to this. It wasn't like him to get too agitated by things like this, but he found himself becoming just that as he started whispering come on as Magda struggled to free herself from her...

"Stop - stop!" And so he did, and repositioned himself a bit more comfortably, but he left one hand placed firmly against the bottom of her foot - so she knew he was still present. And then came the commotion, and it was not a welcome one. The shuddering of the crypt, this time at least, did...

Mack watched with anticipation. He was without doubt that Magdalena would make short work of this obstruction, and so he idly reached for his pipe and- damn it. He pursed his lips in general disinterest and folded his arms across his chest. What the hell was he going to do with himself now in...

And you're damn right he didn't. Mack was quite proficient in a number of things, but tact was not necessarily one of them, and certainly not in a situation like this. He was liable to offend someone or something along those lines, and he knew it. Better to let Mags do the talking until their...