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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 grumbled at the mention of the youngsters running around campus. Ten or so years didn't seem like that much of a difference, until he had spent time on campus taking his introductory classes. Suddenly the difference was glaring, and it made him all the happier to<i>not</i>live in the dorms. Though, it sounded like Clayton might be a bit older like him. "Well shit, I always have booze n' weed here if you're interested in hangin' more. I've got a preference for avoidin' people that make me feel older'n I am. Thirty-three, if'n you're curious. We can just be the troublemakin', snarky Southern men on campus. Bakin' edibles in the community kitchen... though I guess that checks out for the Celtic pantheon." He snickered, taking a hit off his joint before ashing it into the fire and turning the roast over. Most would guess him to be in his early to mid twenties. He couldn't help but preen a bit when people guessed him to be young, and their reactions were always delicious. He doubted Clayton would be<i>too</i>surprised, since they were likely in the same age range. "S'fine if ya don't push it in avoidance of weird shit. Though I'm almost curious what ya define as 'weird shit'."<br/><br/>How many pantheons<i>were</i>there, actually? Rhys wasn't sure he knew, despite being a DJ at more than a few pantheon parties. He could think of at least four, though no one partied like the Greeks. "Mine either. He tends to be just as happy with me takin' care of scavenged bones n' offering part of my meal." From the way Clayton was talking, he almost had to wonder if they had a similar relationship to their respective gods. It would be a first, though he had hardly thought of himself as the<i>only</i>Chosen who could see or hear their gods. If any others did, they hadn't been vocal about it.<br/><br/>The question was answered in short order, earning mild surprise that shot across Rhys's features. Surveying the plant hound, he huffed out a quiet laugh and took another hit. Silver smoke curled from his lips as he spoke, deepening his baritone slightly. "Funny, I'm an artist too. Do ya just sketch, or do anythin' else? I sketch, n' work with ink and colored pencil mostly. Can do watercolors. Don't anymore. I don't hate myself<i>that</i>much." He'd wait and see if he could get more information about Cernunnos 'popping up'. The loosening grip of Cromm's claws on his shoulder was indication enough that the god was getting more comfortable with their companion, though he was clearly still studying the nature worshipper. Rhys couldn't be sure if that was out of curiosity or wariness, since... well, voids weren't typically expressive.<br/><br/>Rhys grinned, arching a brow as he considered for a moment. "How about pineapple? S'in the name. N' mine already has a bit of that flavor, though most Pineapple Express does usually have a hint. Thinkin' it would be killer in a pineapple upside down cake." An idea sparked across his features, and he snapped before wagging his finger at Clayton as he took a hit. "Add a bit of cherry. Call it Upside Down Express." The name had a ring to it, and told the person exactly what they could expect.<i>Especially</i>if it maintained the strength of his current plant. "Far as New Year's... I'm workin' a rave in the city. I try to avoid fireworks, so I usually aim for a gig on those kinda holidays. Could come with me? I have OSHA compliant earbuds I use beneath my headphones, n' I probably have a spare ya can have." He knew it helped him get through the holidays to be at raves, since consistent bass was good for drowning out the pops of fireworks. He hated the noise, and it was better than sitting alone in his vardo with music blaring. Company was always better on holidays, since it distracted him from diving too deeply into his own thoughts.<br/><br/>Indicating the vardo with a tilt of his head, Rhys beamed at Clayton. "So what ya think? Joinin' me for my revel tonight, once ya find a spot for your offerin'? Could point ya toward a good one I found the other day. I don't need it." He motioned to the clearing around them, looking up at the waxed linen canopy with a fond expression. This glade<i>was</i>his offering to Cromm, in a way. He'd found a spot with ash and oak trees, and planted the common hawthorne between them. The trees had since spread slightly because of the birds, but he made sure to cull the sprouts that sprung up as he came across them. Rhys wanted to hang colored bottles on strings from the branches, which he would likely do with the first snow. Help might be nice, if he and Clayton became friends.