Topic: I'll warn you in advance . . .

[The Last Standing]

Here's an improv game I've found to be a lot of fun where instead of commenting on the avatar above you, you decide the fate of the one below!

It starts in a tavern, the first person chatting with some people, when a friend of hers walks into the tavern. This person entering is a bit . . . strange, which the first person notifies the group of before he makes it to the table. The next avatar picks up from there, RPing the peculiar person for a bit, before warning the table of that person's odd friend making her way towards the table. So . . .

"Hey Jack, Jill. How's it going? Times are rough, I'm telling you. Gotta climb hills both ways to fetch a pail of water in this economy, eh? Oh, hey guys, here comes a good friend of mine. I have to warn you in advance, though, she's got an unhealthy obsession with Leprechauns."

[Angeliqua]

A young lady walks into the tavern wearing attire of emerald green including tights and pointy shoes.  As she meanders her way to the table greeting everyone along the way with a wave and a hearty, "Top 'o the mornin' to ye!" using a highly exaggerated Irish accent.

"Well, well if it ain't me good friends!  Fancy meeting ye here." The lady glances about the room cautiously as though trying to spot something elusive then lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "Don't mind the accent, I hear that if you can convince *them* you're one of them, it's easier to find and catch one."  Another quick glance under the table before she returns to her whispering, "What do you mean who?  The wee folk of course.  I'm talking leprechauns!"  The last is said much louder than she expected it to be and she quickly switches back to her accent, "We of the wee folk must be ever so careful around strangers, ye know?"  With another furtive glance about the room which takes in who's entering the door at this moment, she lowers her voice once more to explain to her good friends, "See the one coming through the door now?  A nice enough person for certain, but I have to warn you in advance not to make eye contact, it causes extreme paranoia!"

[The Last Standing]

A man of short stature bearing a sweater vest and over-sized glasses awkwardly shuffles into the bar. He glances around nervously, twiddling his thumbs for a bit until he relaxes with a sigh, gets a drink from the bartender who knows better than to look him in the eyes, and sits down at the table. "Hey guys!" he chirps in a nasal tone. "You won't believe what happened to me on my way over here! So, I was walking down the street when some woman tried to kill me! She gave me this soul-crushing stare before she pulled out a can of pepper spray and was ready to dump that stuff in my eyes and presumably stab me. Still, I ran away screaming, so everything's OK." He takes a sip from his gin and tonic and sinks into his seat. He glances around at everyone, their heads jerked away from him. "Is something wrong guys? Is there something on my face. Hey, miss in the green, can you take a look? Ultimately, she darts her eyes to his face then back to her plate quickly. He jerks and turns his eyes to his drink. "Why did you look at me like that?" He twitches, and sniffs his drink before taking a sip. Abruptly, he sprays it out over the table and jumps back, his eyes quivering in fear. Other members of the tavern are starting to look at him, and he notices. "You're all out to get me! Poison my drink? Hah! So original! I've survived so many assassination attempts like this. You'll never catch me!" With that he sprints out of the tavern, passing another person entering. "Also, watch out for that guy. She only talks in rhyme!"