Because I love to turn mental disorders into prose. Also Games.

Dork Brotherhood.

I nod off in my bed that has a few skull staffs sleeping on it and wake up an hour later by this ugly night-motherf*cker.

He jabbers on about killing a figment of a troll’s imagination and hands me a knife.

A knife I seriously consider using on him. It takes a lot of willpower to let that smug bastard walk out of MY house that he so rudely invaded in my sle-oh. I guess that’s a bit hypocritical of me, isn’t it.

The very first thing I try to do is drop the damned thing, but I cannot. I should have killed him before he stuck me with this damn thing. It’s a curse, I tells ya!

Alright, game Cyrodiilian gods. I’ll play by your rules. I have to keep this token of shame, have I? Okay. Fine. I’ll use it.

This little realization brings me to the conclusion that the gods are a bunch of numbnutses in the sky who think it’s funny to mess with a man who is SERIOUSLY wracked with guilt over killing a (I think) innocent man.

So piss on the gods. I’ll be my own man. And my own man thinks that I should dump all of these stolen goods on some poor schmuck, and use the resulting money to pay my fine. From there, I can rebuild a goddamn good reputation.

Yes, this works fine as a plan. I start by reducing my inventory to things I need, and things I’m going to sell. First must go all of the stolen things. For if I don’t get rid of them, I could lose the money. A lot of stolen food is turned into legally owned potions of my own devising. I also eat the remainder to keep my hunger away.

Jericho’s stealthy self walks through the door and towards town. This will take a lot of cunning and effort to – Oh bloody hell the pirates spotted me. And there comes the guard. Running time is now.

Thankfully Jericho’s athleticism is high, as is his acrobatics. I jump, leap, and run to safety on the other side of the bay. “Okay.” he thinks. “This needs to be smooth…”

I chug a chameleon potion and try again. This doesn’t work either. Perhaps I should just sell the goods while RUNNING FOR MY LIFE.

I try that. A modded merchant buys all my stolen goods, and tells me where to get more. “Not right now.” Says Jericho, holding a guard in a chokehold.

This nets me almost enough gold to not be able to pay my fine. I run, and the guards stop chasing me at the waterfront. Again. Strange. So I stroll over to my house, walk inside and

OH COME ON.

“This plan is SO not working out.” I think as I run for my life outside. I’ve already tried yielding and bribing, but I shouldn’t make him laugh. Trying to gamble one last time before I run across the bay to get away from this guy, I pull out my trusty charm spell and wave my fingers at him.

What. This guy was WAITING AT MY HOUSE TO GET ME. And I make him hate me slightly less, and suddenly he’s my best pal evarrrrr.How does that…you know what? Never mind.

Whatever. I’m not complaining. The gods smiled on me today. Or someone frowned on the rest of Cyrodiil. Either way, I’m now a law-abiding citizen again.

I turn to walk back to my house and the entire waterfront appears to have gathered to watch me bribe a guard. Cool.

Yippee.

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