The decision to leave the castle comes so quickly, Dave might as well have left that night. The rain outside and the warmth of the fireplace, however, kept him for a few hours. He can be a strong, independent man later, when the sky loses its incontinence.
He sets up in his shack, and he accepts the fact that he'll probably die here, because he doesn't know the first thing about fending for himself as far as hunting and gathering goes. Lucky for him, he doesn't have to wait long before the festival sets up for the day. The smell of food cooking is what lures Dave in, and it's not long before he's hovering around being anything but discerning about what he samples.
[Shopping.] Dave has no money to speak of, but that doesn't mean he can't window shop. He doesn't know anything about this place or the people in it, so he might as well gather whatever kind of intel he can from their wares.
He's getting a..very particular vibe here. A phallic one. It's a Freudian field day out here. He wonders if flashing nip is enough to buy anything he might have his eye on, then reminds himself that he'd probably rather starve and die than show off a pasty, little chest bump for free shit.
Up until now, he's been pretty good at not touching all of the dope, enchanted doohickies all up in the markets, but something impressive catches his eye. It's a blown glass horse dildo covered in colours and patterns the likes of which he's never seen. He can't help but pick it up and try to look down it, as if it's a kaleidoscope or some shit. While peering through one end to the other, he catches sight of the sign behind the dildo's mount.
Fit this up your ass, win it for free. He repeats it to himself, processes, and suddenly the dildo is falling from his hands to the cobblestone as he looks horrified. He's looking from his hands, to the shopkeep, to the ground as if he'll find an answer.
"Do you have any magic hand-sanitizer behind there or did I just catch an STD?" He asks, as if he didn't just break the merch. When the shopkeep expresses his displeasure (menacingly) Dave realises just how much he fucked up.
"April fools?" He makes jazz hands, for emphasis. No dice. "No?" Nope. He'll glance around for help, but if he doesn't find any in time.. well. He's the newest clerk of Heedsworth's Fucktiques, with a snazzy apron featuring a colourful dick on the front.
He can't help you, he has no idea why he's here.
[Fuck cakes.] Free food is free food. Free food shoved under your nose by attractive people is even better. Dave doesn't ask what anything is before he eats it, he's going purely by smell and by the fact that it's being offered to him.
Eventually, a weird tingle sets in and starts to pool in his gut. It's starting to feel similar to the beginnings of a boner and also kind of like he wants to take his pants off. Don't mind him if he's just going to shove his way to the nearest stall to grab a drink of whatever to wash away the feeling before he starts muttering to himself, as he tends to do.
"I feel like the kid who ate three corn dogs, candy floss and a bag of popcorn and got on the drop tower." He rubs his tummy idly, even though the feeling is pleasant and warm and not at all like the sensation you feel before you blow chunks.
Day 2 stuff only dudes
He sets up in his shack, and he accepts the fact that he'll probably die here, because he doesn't know the first thing about fending for himself as far as hunting and gathering goes. Lucky for him, he doesn't have to wait long before the festival sets up for the day. The smell of food cooking is what lures Dave in, and it's not long before he's hovering around being anything but discerning about what he samples.
[Shopping.]
Dave has no money to speak of, but that doesn't mean he can't window shop. He doesn't know anything about this place or the people in it, so he might as well gather whatever kind of intel he can from their wares.
He's getting a..very particular vibe here. A phallic one. It's a Freudian field day out here. He wonders if flashing nip is enough to buy anything he might have his eye on, then reminds himself that he'd probably rather starve and die than show off a pasty, little chest bump for free shit.
Up until now, he's been pretty good at not touching all of the dope, enchanted doohickies all up in the markets, but something impressive catches his eye. It's a blown glass horse dildo covered in colours and patterns the likes of which he's never seen. He can't help but pick it up and try to look down it, as if it's a kaleidoscope or some shit. While peering through one end to the other, he catches sight of the sign behind the dildo's mount.
Fit this up your ass, win it for free. He repeats it to himself, processes, and suddenly the dildo is falling from his hands to the cobblestone as he looks horrified. He's looking from his hands, to the shopkeep, to the ground as if he'll find an answer.
"Do you have any magic hand-sanitizer behind there or did I just catch an STD?" He asks, as if he didn't just break the merch. When the shopkeep expresses his displeasure (menacingly) Dave realises just how much he fucked up.
"April fools?" He makes jazz hands, for emphasis. No dice. "No?" Nope. He'll glance around for help, but if he doesn't find any in time.. well. He's the newest clerk of Heedsworth's Fucktiques, with a snazzy apron featuring a colourful dick on the front.
He can't help you, he has no idea why he's here.
[Fuck cakes.]
Free food is free food. Free food shoved under your nose by attractive people is even better. Dave doesn't ask what anything is before he eats it, he's going purely by smell and by the fact that it's being offered to him.
Eventually, a weird tingle sets in and starts to pool in his gut. It's starting to feel similar to the beginnings of a boner and also kind of like he wants to take his pants off. Don't mind him if he's just going to shove his way to the nearest stall to grab a drink of whatever to wash away the feeling before he starts muttering to himself, as he tends to do.
"I feel like the kid who ate three corn dogs, candy floss and a bag of popcorn and got on the drop tower." He rubs his tummy idly, even though the feeling is pleasant and warm and not at all like the sensation you feel before you blow chunks.