artemis-entreri:artemis-entreri: [[ >_____>  I’ve got a million things I ne

artemis-entreri:artemis-entreri: [[ >_____>  I’ve got a million things I need to get done and this definitely wasn’t one of them. >_> Ah well, have a grumpy assassin Easter bunny everyone. XD ]] [[ I’m reblogging this thing from last year because I’m lame. Since I didn’t draw anything new for this year, have a crack ficlet instead to celebrate this Easter coinciding with April Fool’s Day. xD Disclaimer: Easter and April Fool’s aren’t actually observed in the Forgotten Realms. ]]One morning, Artemis Entreri found a basket of egg-shaped objects wrapped in thin parchment that had been dyed bright purple. Even without looking at the note hanging from the matching ribbons decorating the basket, Entreri knew that the spectacle must be the work of Jarlaxle. The assassin was in a good mood this day and therefore bothered to glance at the note long enough to register that it implored him to try this gift, while also advising that he could return it if he didn’t find it to his liking. The address where the sender could be found was included underneath his extravagant signature. The note reassured Entreri enough for him to allow his curiosity to surpass his mistrust. He unwrapped one of the objects to find a dark brown egg. Its pleasantly rich scent tugged the corners of his lips upward. This was a substance that he enjoyed, but not one that he indulged in.Basket hanging from one hand, Entreri pictured the location described by the address as he bit off a piece of the confectionery. It wasn’t too far, and he could ask Jarlaxle about the occasion for the gift, even though he knew that the drow who was prone to excess hardly needed one. However, as he chewed, the flavor began to change, farther and farther away from the taste of intense cacao tinged with sweetness. His expression was first bewildered, but quickly turned to disgust and anger. The basket landed on the floor with with a dull “thud” as Entreri spat, gagged, wiped his mouth, and spat again. A blastwave comprised entirely of a small angry assassin man blew out the apartment’s only window, scattering glass in the direction of the nearest well.Less than a bell later, in a different and infinitely more extravagant apartment, a human quivering with anger pinned a drow against the wall with a jeweled dagger against the ebony throat. The drow was patting the air and delivering entreaties through a disarming smile, however his explanations of the many fascinating uses of prestidigitation magic and his jokes about the nostalgia values of simpler times provided by sewerage substances for his friend only drew the blade’s sharp edge closer against his skin.Long after the sun had set, the assassin stalked out, looking as though he’d been wrestling in mud. Despite the grim set of his jaw, the fury in his steel-gray eyes had cooled. Back inside the abode, a sad and disheveled drow sat amidst shredded bits of purple paper, his entire face, especially the areas around his mouth, stained with layers of stinky brown substance. He gagged and attempted again to regurgitate the substance the human had forced down his throat. He knew that the “treat” would be coming out of his other end, however he was hoping to reduce the ultimate “output”.  [[ 5 years later, I’m still this lame. :P ]] -- source link

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