Treehouse Meme

[torine]

Your character is now the owner of a bitchin' treehouse! Give a quick description and/or a link to an image of what it's like. How many people can it hold? Does it just have the bare necessities, or is it decked out in enough gadgets to make Tony Stark proud? Invite your friends, or visit others. Feel free to age down characters for kid shenanigans.

Need a scenario?

PARTY!: You're throwing a wild party in your brand-new treehouse. Anything from a pizza party to a wild kegger.

SECRET CLUB!: You're having a secret meeting, and it's invitation only. You need to know the password to get in. No Homers Allowed. What sort of club is it? Or maybe you want to break in on someone else's meeting. It's not fair that they won't let you in!

INVASION!: Another treehouse group is plotting a takeover! You better defend yourselves, or get ready to take over that lousy club next door.

SLEEPOVER! Get into your sleeping bag, gather 'round a lantern to swap scary stories. Or maybe you want to cuddle up to that special someone on a cool fall night.

BUILDING! Your treehouse is still a work in progress. What are you adding to it? Maybe someone can come along to hinder help get it ready.

ALONE TIME! You're hiding in your treehouse, minding your own business and totally not reading dirty magazines, when someone crashes in on your fun.

WILDCARD! Whatever else you can think of!

Comments

[barnaculled]

[ Fjord is and isn't so lucky - he grunts as the knife hits him right in the leather of his shoulder, more with the surprise of the impact with anything. Now that'll teach him to be Beau's literal back-up. ]

Sonovabitch!

[ He reaches up to pry it free; it takes a couple of tugs and he's lucky for once that he's tall since it looked like it'd have hit Beau's throat if she hadn't dodged. ]

...I mean, let's be fuckin' honest, Nott would probably do it if she had a finite amount herself.

[ Beat. ]

Means there might be some good shit in there, right?

[ Fjord's not planning on getting sloppy when they're in some unknown territory, but fuck if he would mind a cold beer right about now. A cold anything, for that matter.

With Beau out of the way, he steps forward ( and aside, albeit on the other side of where their monk is ) to... give the door a good shove the rest of the way open before ducking behind the chest as a shield.

Nothing else immediately spews out from the mouth, making him look very much the fool. But he's in good company for it. Fjord arches his brows at Beau over the door. ]

You're about as close to an expert on these things as we've got, I figure.

[ That being said, he's still peeking in a little... and makes a face. ]

There's, uh... some leftovers too.

[impatientdefense]

[She's wide-eyed when she whirls around to see the damage.]

You okay!?

[But Fjord's already prying it from his armor, and it looks... pretty bloodless. Not even a nick, it just got caught in the outer edge of his outfit. She sighs relief, then does her best to look a little more macho, like she didn't just spook at his getting stabbed. Tough, and ready for any more knives that shoot out as he opens the door the rest of the way.

So of course, no more pop out, and it's just the two of them sheepishly peeking into the coldbox. She starts pulling things out enough to look for labels, or just the design of the bottles, and giving her best guesses.]

Wellllll... Let's see. This one... looks like some moonshine shit. These ones... Trosts, but they're fuckin' Baumbauchs. Those two look like some real good wine, but why are they in here? They're not supposed to be cooled.

[Insulted at this, she drops the question of the rest of the booze, and looks at the leftovers in question. Some kind of roasted meat, rotisserie-style, thoroughly carved into but a good half of the body still in there... It's unusually large for what looks like a rodent, but kind of lizardy - without the scales, and yet somewhat like a pig at the same time.]

It looks... Maybe Nott or Yasha will know what that is.