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</div><span style="font-size: 26px"><b>Rhys Adaar</b></span><br/><b>Chosen By:</b>Cromm Cruach (Celtic)<br/><b>Location:</b>Forest<br/><b>Date/Time:</b>Noon, Dec 21st<br/><b>Wearing:</b>Outfit shown- except shirt is dark grey v-neck t-shirt, iron faery star and leather cord necklace, platform<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fmedia.discordapp.net%2Fattachments%2F878904166888644642%2F993849148774297700%2Funknown.png%3Fwidth%3D559%26height%3D559&amp;hash=acdb5eaa0fd73e46da03337894f9bc45" href="https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/878904166888644642/993849148774297700/unknown.png?width=559&amp;height=559" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">boots</a>, left ear<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fd1flfk77wl2xk4.cloudfront.net%2FAssets%2F95%2F587%2FXXL_p0118358795.jpg&amp;hash=580882ada38aa277b65f84f28bca3e78" href="https://d1flfk77wl2xk4.cloudfront.net/Assets/95/587/XXL_p0118358795.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">piercing</a><br/><b>Tagging: </b>Clayton Barker (<a class="username" data-user-id="7193" data-username="Letum" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/7193/">Letum</a>)<br/><b>TRIGGER WARNINGS:</b>None<br/><hr class="bbc-hr"/>Rhys hummed at the thought of dreamsicle cupcakes, mentally sorting through his recipes for one that might work. He still had some homemade vanilla paste he'd infused with kief, and that would add a hell of a flavor to orange juice and zest. Perhaps a Chantilly icing? The marscapone and almond would round out the flavor of the orange and vanilla, and he could top them with candied orange twists. If he infused the sugar, heavy cream, and butter, he could probably bump up the dose enough to split a cupcake. Or eat it all yourself and get higher than giraffe nuts. Both sounded like a fun afternoon to him, though one came with the offer of company. "Should warn ya I'm a helluva baker. Ya got an oven in your dorm?" Gesturing to the vardo with a jerk of his thumb, he smiled softly. "One I have is kinda small. Ain't good for cupcakes in any sizable quantity." And by that, he meant anything outnumbering a half dozen.<br/><br/>Taking another hit, Rhys nodded at the offer. 'Good with plants' could be anything from a green thumb- like him- or a patron god who dealth in nature. He heard the rustle of leaves, but whatever it was... wasn't human. Meaning he wasn't concerned with whatever it was. Humans- especially Chosen- were a much bigger concern than any of the creatures the forest had to offer. Now if a unicorn came barreling around the corner... well, he and Clayton might have to get cozy in the vardo. "Ain't in a rush. Could always hand ya seeds n' see what ya can make of it. Think I got some extra in the house that are nice n' dark." He usually kept extras in case one of his friends needed seeds, and his last seed harvest had been... bountiful was a word for it. Prolific probably explained it better.<br/><br/>The admission of which pantheon earned a tightening of Cromm's grip on his shoulder, almost painful it was so insistent. Well, pain wasn't quite accurate. More like the pressure was making his head swim, and if it were a physical touch he'd likely be in agony. "Celtic here too. N' I agree. Mine just doesn't give a fuck about 'clean' offerings. Kinda pointless for a death god." The pressure increased, causing near vertigo. Clearing his throat, he took another hit as he stood to head for the door of the vardo. Rhys wanted to grab the seeds before he forgot, and offer one of the sugar cookies he'd baked a couple days ago to Clayton.<br/><br/>He halted as a... dog?... came bounding into the clearing, furrowing his brows in confusion at its anatomy. Frankly it looked like the forest floor had gotten up to go for a walk, and been given the personality and intelligence of an orange cat... at least if the body language was anything to go off of. At the introduction, Rhys nodded at the creature with a polite bow. If Clayton was being literal, fungus and dead leaves placed the creature<i>strictly</i>in his realm, if only in part. That it was made up of plant matter almost entirely put Clayton in the realm of a nature god, which could explain why he was wandering fearlessly in the woods. Celtic nature gods were aplenty, but with the context of the forest? "He's rather handsome if ya ask me. Looks like Cernunnos gave ya a nice gift or two. Least, if the uh..." He indicated the antlers with a wave of a finger adorned with gold rings, taking a hit before continuing. "N' the fact ya called him- Fox, n' your god- a male. Second guess is Sucellus, since ya mentioned he likes drinkin' wine." Seemed as good a guess as any, though it stood to question whether Clayton would guess his god.<br/><br/>Continuing into the vardo, Rhys braced his hands on the door frame as he hoisted himself up the couple stairs. His right knee was bothering him, meaning there was likely rain in the area, and the pain reflected in his gait. Opening a drawer, he sorted through the packets for the right strain as he spoke. "Well you're welcome to join me for my Yule revel. Ain't much, but I made sugar cookies- medicated of course- n' got a small pot roast on the fire. Enough for two, with room for my offerin'. N' plenty of wine n' weed." They were both of the same pantheon, which likely meant they both celebrated Yule. Certainly better than spending their time in fluffy celebrations, when their customs usually involved more... carnal indulgence. Usually drinking, laughing, and feasting around a fuckall huge fire. The flames could always be built up if they wanted to celebrate proper. Finding the manila seed envelope, he shut the drawer and climbed out of the trailer with a wince as he put too much weight on his right knee. Ducking back under the canopy, he shuffled over to his chair and offered Clayton the packet with 'PE' written in black Sharpie. "Here. See what ya can do with 'em. No rush. Only payment I need is smokin' the results together. Gotta test our collaboration at the same time." Offering a charming smile as he sat, he left it up to Clayton's interpretation if he was flirting or not.