(These are not mine. I found them on a Facebook thread and through Google searches. If any of these are yours and you want them taken down, just shoot me a message. If any of these are yours and you want credit, just shoot me a message or comment on this.)
For now, the set is complete! All six player character party members, three mounts/companions (plus one friendly mouse), a former character turned NPC, and Malthus’ demon familiar with a will of his own. Fun little project! I will likely complete the rest of the major arcana at a later date, once we have more NPCs to fill out the cards.
“In the new game, released this month, a designated Profanity Judge lays down a card that shows an uncompleted sentence, such as: “I’m getting a degree in English. It’s basically four years of _______.” Players select appropriately suggestive Shakespeare cards from their hand…”
Lydia’s a study in disinterest. Gaze stretching out
across campus, lips pursed in judgment of the impromptu Frisbee match forming
on the quad, position oriented to scarcely acknowledge that she’s standing with
Stiles is tempted to tell her to drop the act because once
obsession with someone has been coded into his DNA, there’s not so much as a
micro-expression that he’s likely to miss. He’s definitely already caught
on to and catalogued the shrewdness that has been attacking her face all day. She
knows something but she doesn’t know what she knows and she’s been hawk-eyed and
predatory ever since she figured out that much.
Stiles is not going to encourage any of that, thanks much.
Side note: why is everyone around him comparable to some type of bird?
Not that he’s thinking about hummingbirds, because he isn’t. He
could be, but he’s not, because he’s in control of his brain and he’s decided:
no. Crap. Firstly, he’s totally thinking about hummingbirds. Second-of-ly, what kind of bird would that make him? Oh
man, probably some kind of friggin’ goose.
He hates geese.
Now he knows it’s likely because he’s subconsciously
recognized a kinship to them.
“If you had to pick a feathered representation for me, it
wouldn’t be a goose, right?”
Years of following his bullet-speed trains of thought has
led to Lydia taking that completely in stride. She doesn’t even bother to
look up at him, hand fishing in her purse for her phone to check the time. “A seabird
probably,” she offers, lighting up the screen, “they’re clumsy on land.”
“Well that’s a self-esteem boost I didn’t know I needed,”
Stiles says dryly. “You’re a true humanitarian, Lyds. Also, the correct answer was secret option C) some kind of dinosaur. I would’ve preferred stegosaurus, for the record.”
She brushes the hair out of her face, glances at him.
“I could have said a hoatzin.”
Stiles has legitimately no idea what that is. “Th…
anks?” He thinks. Probably.
“More commonly known as stinkbirds. You’re welcome,”
she confirms. Her gaze is less glancing, more stripping and Stiles
pretends not to notice. “Expert deflection, Stiles, truly.” She
golf claps mockingly and Stiles glares back at her. “Now what are you
“If I tell you, they’ll revoke my ‘expert’ status,” Stiles
points out smartly, “And rip up my ribbon. I can’t have that, I’ve
already put it in the family newsletter.”