It's inevitable. Watching little human children run around playing in the snow, it's too tempting for the big lug of a troll that is Toska. Thankfully, the temptation isn't at all about eating little human children, oh no, he'd never, but to join in on the fun. Unfortunately, his idea of joining in isn't to pick up snow and throw it, too. It's to bury himself under the snow and lay in wait, which is something he used to do when he was playing with his brother long, long ago.
Dig in, wait, leap out. In past instances, that meant his brother punting him in the face. In this instance, it means a giant snow-covered man with horns, claws, and horrible teeth is erupting out of the ground and scaring the hell out of a bunch of unsuspecting kids.
"Grrarrr!"
His roar is a little too convincing when he does this. Even though he is grinning like an idiot the whole while, they're having none of it. There's a few screams and they're scrambling away, taking cover a safe distance away from Toska, who just stands there, arms held up and wide, clawed fingers curled slightly. It's only when he realizes -- after an entire minute -- that they're not coming back out that his grin will fade some and he'll drop his pose, instead falling into a crouch.
"Haha, whoops. I guess that was too much."
ii. recon [ as either side ]
For all his other downfalls, the goofing off, the messing up, the misunderstandings, Toska is shockingly good at recon. He covers ground swiftly, silently, picking his way over rock and brush as though he were born to it. Who knows, maybe he was. Maybe he's just well-trained for it. Regardless of which, he's leading the way cheerfully through the snow, right up until he stops just under an overhang to check out the vaguest of leftover ash from a campfire.
"Huh," he crouches down by it, already having stooped to even get under the overhang in the first place, and picks up a bit of burnt refuse to squint at. "So they did stop up this way. Must have left during that snowstorm the other night, though. Hey..."
Toska turns, looking back up from the ash to the poor soul stuck scouting with him, that same big, doofy smile he's been wearing more or less constantly since they started out from base camp still there.
"If we find them and they've frozen to death already, do you think anyone will mind me eating one?"
A question he asks without a single ounce of malice. He may as well be asking if he can pick out a piece of candy from a store, the way he poses it.
toska | prague race | ota
It's inevitable. Watching little human children run around playing in the snow, it's too tempting for the big lug of a troll that is Toska. Thankfully, the temptation isn't at all about eating little human children, oh no, he'd never, but to join in on the fun. Unfortunately, his idea of joining in isn't to pick up snow and throw it, too. It's to bury himself under the snow and lay in wait, which is something he used to do when he was playing with his brother long, long ago.
Dig in, wait, leap out. In past instances, that meant his brother punting him in the face. In this instance, it means a giant snow-covered man with horns, claws, and horrible teeth is erupting out of the ground and scaring the hell out of a bunch of unsuspecting kids.
"Grrarrr!"
His roar is a little too convincing when he does this. Even though he is grinning like an idiot the whole while, they're having none of it. There's a few screams and they're scrambling away, taking cover a safe distance away from Toska, who just stands there, arms held up and wide, clawed fingers curled slightly. It's only when he realizes -- after an entire minute -- that they're not coming back out that his grin will fade some and he'll drop his pose, instead falling into a crouch.
"Haha, whoops. I guess that was too much."
ii. recon [ as either side ]
For all his other downfalls, the goofing off, the messing up, the misunderstandings, Toska is shockingly good at recon. He covers ground swiftly, silently, picking his way over rock and brush as though he were born to it. Who knows, maybe he was. Maybe he's just well-trained for it. Regardless of which, he's leading the way cheerfully through the snow, right up until he stops just under an overhang to check out the vaguest of leftover ash from a campfire.
"Huh," he crouches down by it, already having stooped to even get under the overhang in the first place, and picks up a bit of burnt refuse to squint at. "So they did stop up this way. Must have left during that snowstorm the other night, though. Hey..."
Toska turns, looking back up from the ash to the poor soul stuck scouting with him, that same big, doofy smile he's been wearing more or less constantly since they started out from base camp still there.
"If we find them and they've frozen to death already, do you think anyone will mind me eating one?"
A question he asks without a single ounce of malice. He may as well be asking if he can pick out a piece of candy from a store, the way he poses it.