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earthnashes · 4 years

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A big ol’ sketchdump I did for my original project Feathers and Flowers, with a big focus on Sakura! I was mostly exploring her as a character, specifically the aspect in which she’s a star athlete on her college team and some sketches exploring the relationship between her and Evangeline. uwu

ALLLLRIGHTY! Now that I've had some sleep I'm ready to share that lore and funfacts with ya, soooooo here we gooooooooo! ------ 1.) As a student athlete, Sakura is expected to train almost daily in order to keep herself in tip-top shape for the team. The training she goes through is pretty intense and ruthless at times, but Sakura actually really enjoys it; it gives her an outlet for the high amount of energy she typically has (she's basically an overgrown puppy). On "cool down days" she runs so she at least stays active, and in this instance Evangeline wanted to come along and run with her. She's never played a sport before and outside the occasional walk, she's never actually exercised before, and she asks Sakura to help her change that. Let's just say, uhhh... well. She couldn't keep up; barely was able to run a full mile (almost gave up half-way but Sakura encouraged her enough to do it) and afterward she's a puddle of goo on the track ground. By that point Sakura's already a few miles in, but she stops to scoop her exhausted roommate up like she weighs no less than a pillow and carry her to the shaded bleachers for rest. "I... I'm sorry..." Evangeline rasps through her gasping, feeling ashamed at her lackluster performance. "I-I should have been able to do more." "Whatdya talkin about? It's ya first time doing this, yeah? You did amazing!" Sakura says, but when Evangeline tries to protest, she shakes her head. "Nup up up! No beating yourself up; ya tried your hardest and that's all I can ask for." She cuts a crooked, sharp smile to her roommate and beams at her. "I'm so proud of you!" With the full force of that smile directed to her, Evangeline's exhausted flush deepens and she feels butterflies in her stomach. 2.) Sakura coolin' out after a hard workout. I was gonna give her a gatorade bottle but I didn't feel like drawin' it, so ya get a default waterbottle instead. Sorz. ;w; 3.) The concept sketch for her college uniform with their home colors. Another thing I'm kinda thinkin' about is, as a star player of her team, Sakura and a few others are often asked to pose and take pictures for magazines geared toward college-level sports. This one could very well be one of 'em; actually that might be fun, to do a sketchdump of Sakura on magazine covers. O: 4.) Towel in hand, Sakura's gearin' up to leave the gym and head on home for the day. Before she goes, she hears one of her teammates shout playfully "didn't know it was sheepdog season, Scruffy!" A cant in her hip, she laughs out,"shut up, Quincy, I look good like this!" Sakura often keeps her hair well maintained and cut in her usual style: long in the front, short in the back. But every now and then, she'll allow her hair to grow longer than usual, and this is what it typically looks like. I really like the look, actually! <: Also, Sakura is pretty confident in herself, but it isn't often she acts smug and cocky about it. o3o 5.) A doodle to show off a clash between Sakura and an opposing player as she tries to run the ball. Sakura's job as a power runningback is to... well. Literally power through anything and anyone who tries to stop her from advancing the ball forward. It's no secret she's strong, really strong, but she isn't the only one, and there are instances where she has to really put her back into bulldozing if she wants to get through. This instance could be a part of a super important game or somethin'; not gonna lie I'm highly considering maybe writing a short story surrounding this doodle. o3o 6.) Evangeline in Sakura's most favorite jacket (outside her letterman jacket). Maybe the two of 'em went out for a post-game party and Evangeline got cold, so Sakura just wraps her up in her jacket without question. Now would be a good time to officially state that, while I don't know the endgame of their relationship, Evangeline canonically does develop a crush on Sakura (this happens a little later, when the whole gang are friends). The football player doesn't actually know that, though, and she's entirely oblivious to it. 7.) Kaela: *knowing look* Evangeline: ... "Why are you looking at me like that?" Kaela: "You like her." Evangeline: What? No I don't. Kalea: ‘Ae, darling, you do. That blush isn't just from the sun, no? Evangeline: "I-! That's jus... O-of course it is! It's hot out and I'm gross and sweaty and... stop looking at me like that!" Kaela: E kala mai ia`u. But you look cute with your face red like that." Evangeline: *sputters and blushes harder* Sakura might be oblivious to Eva's crush, but Kaela certainly isn't. And she certainly isn't above some gentle teasing about it. >:3

8.) Just a quick doodle of Sakura being happy uwu One of the biggest aspects of her design is that her smile is always crooked (always favors the right side) and she always shows her teeth when she does, hence her signature sharp-ish grin. :>

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Aaaaaaaaand that’s all I got for now! Feel free to ask me any questions if ya have any, and other than that thank you so much for takin’ a looksie! ^.^

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#character study #feathers and flowers #sketchdump #my art #my characters #fnf #fnf canon #original content #kaela #evangeline #sakura #football

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thetriggeredhappy · 3 years

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Speeding bullet with Billy the Kid and David Crockett as per the comic image?

bro i am Intrigued

catch me taking literally whatever liberty i want with historical facts and dates because they really did put an adult Billy the Kid in the same shot as Davy Crockett in the same shot as Abraham Lincoln with a flamethrower. like anything fucking goes

(warnings for mention of animal death in the context of hunting and trapping)

The clatter of something landing on the roof drew Davy’s eye, narrowed in suspicion. That suspicion was confirmed by the grin that the man perched up there was sporting.

“Hidy, lawman,” Billy drawled cheerfully.

“Hello, cattle rustler,” Davy replied, his own tone dry, eyes falling back to his task scrubbing a pan clean. “Careful, now. That big head of yours’ll bring that whole roof down from under you.”

“Aw, c’mon there,” Billy complained. “Here I am, doin’ you the service of keepin’ you company while you get chores done, out of the honest-to-God kindness of my heart—“

“Fairly certain if I asked, God’d say he doesn’t know you and would rather not be associated,” Davy shot back.

“You’re no fun at all,” Billy scoffed. A pause. “Say, where’d you get that hat, by the way? You really shoot it yourself?”

“You don’t shoot raccoons, you trap ‘em,” Davy all but snapped.

“You trap it yourself, then?”

“Yes, I did. And no, I won’t trap one for you.”

“Naw, I like my own hat just fine, curious is all,” Billy replied. Another pause. “You skin it yourself, frontiersman?”

“Damn it all, yes, I did. Caught it, killed it, skinned it, sewed it. Front to back. Only way I could’ve done more myself would’ve been raising the raccoon. You happy now?” Davy grumbled, glaring at the pot he was scrubbing.

“You oughta teach me how to do all that.”

“What, teach the cattle-rustler outlaw how to catch and skin a woodland animal? I’ll start teachin’ Big Henry how to jump over barns, next.”

“No faith at all!” Billy exclaimed, and Davy flinched as he dropped down to land a few feet away, clattering against the boards of the porch. “You really don’t think I could do it?”

“If I thought you could, I wouldn’t be makin’ the accusation. Run along now, go get more practice drawin’ a gun too fast to aim it, why don’t you?”

The sound of a bang, and by the time he looked up, Billy had already holstered his gun again, vest fluttering gently back into place. Two seconds later, he turned his head towards the sound of something hitting the ground, and spotted the dead sparrow lying there, the dust settling around it.

When he looked back up again, there was fire behind Billy’s eyes. “I’ll tolerate you mouthin’ off at me about my lifestyle, about how I made my livin’, hell, even the place I was born and bred, but don’t you dare accuse me of bein’ anything but the best at what I do,” he said, voice suddenly very quiet and serious, and Davy glanced him up and down warily.

“Easy there,” he tried after a moment. “No need to get hasty.”

“Unfortunately, hasty’s what I got hired here for,” Billy spat, and glared at him for another moment before sighing hard, turning on heel and storming back off again.

A few moments before Davy could get his head back together enough to say anything. “I could still outshoot you at ninety paces!” he called.

“Only if we gave you all damn evening to do it!” Billy called back at him, and he didn’t have anything to say to that, really.

He looked back down at the pots and pans he was scrubbing, and sighed, wondering if maybe he’d be any good at teaching after all, and what sorts of critters even lived all the way down here in the deserts of New Mexico.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #sniperscout #speeding bullet #at this point i don't even know if it qualifies as tf2 or speeding bullet fic but I'm tagging it #shut up me #everybody talks #my fanfiction

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the-awkward-outlaw · 4 years

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Hello deary, I have a request to make. Let's have a bit of fun with Arthur, yeah? Reader does that " Don't let your boyfriend kiss you " challenge on him. He does everything he can to get a kiss but the reader playfully avoids every attempt. You can have him come close to almost kissing her but she turns her head and has him kiss her cheek, and he gets upset but she finds it amusing, loving how worked up he gets for a kiss. He then asks what does he need to do in order to get one and she tells.

This one was fun to write, I enjoyed it! (But I did end up hurting my own feelings). Hope you enjoy it, Anon!

Warnings: does fluff count?

Arthur’s a funny man, there’s no question on that. He’s a very thoughtful man when it comes to trying to find ways to please you. There’s one problem though: he keeps trying to do things that are uncharacteristically him. He does things to make you happy that, while you enjoy them, he doesn’t. Unlike his ex Mary, you don’t want him to do things just to please you.

The first few dates with him had been fine, a little odd as they always are with both people feeling incredibly self conscious. Despite you having been in the gang and been friends with him for a long time, he was so cute and nervous during that first date. He blushed and stammered a lot. Even now, You like flustering him, he always gets that embarrassed little grin and his cheeks go pink.

You’ve kissed him, oh, probably a hundred times. However, your relationship with him is still in the dark as far as the others in camp know. You’ve played things very close to the belt, not wanting anyone to know just yet. Neither of you are really ready for anyone to know (Hosea does, but he’s been good on his word and hasn’t said anything). Both you and Arthur know now isn’t a good time for people to be worried about your relationship, what with being on the run from the law and Pinkertons breathing down your neck. It was hard enough hiding your desire to be physically close with Arthur up in Colter where it was so cold. It’s not much different here in Horseshoe Overlook.

Arthur comes up to you just as you set out the morning coffee. He greets you and grabs a cup.

“I was thinkin’ we could go to town today,” he says, setting down the percolator. “Maybe get you some new clothes or find a new book for ya.” He knows you love to read, but you also know that while he can read well, it’s not his favorite thing to do.

“Or we can do something you like,” you suggest. It’s frustrating to watch him take care of everyone else, including you, and completely disregarding his own needs.

“Nah I do plenty to keep myself occupied,” he says, sipping. “Like yesterday, when I came back from hunting. I had a good ol’ trip, met some interestin’ people.”

“And that’s something you have fun with?” you say skeptically. “Arthur, you hate people.”

He chuckles. “Well, I ain’t fond o’ most of ‘em, few are a’right.”

“And hunting? I know the only reason you do it so often is to get away and get into the wild open. But I also know that can be terribly lonely. Not exactly what I call fun.”

He smiles, his cheeks growing slightly pink. That’s how you know you’ve hit it on his head.

“You know me too well for your own good,” he says. He checks to make sure no one’s looking then he bends down to kiss you. You’re not going to give him that satisfaction though, so you turn your head and his lips meet your cheek.

“Awe, come on, darlin’. Just a small one before everyone else wakes up,” he begs.

“Nope, you gotta earn this one, Mr. Morgan.” You pat his shoulder and start walking off. He follows behind a few steps.

“So how do I do that?” he says.

“I ain’t makin’ it that easy for you, Arthur. You’re smart, you’ll figure it out.”

He stops and just watches you walk away, his hands on his hips and he smiles. You know how to play him, but unlike his ex, you don’t use it to your sole advantage.

Over the next few hours, he tries a few different tactics. He brought you your favorite flowers and even bought some expensive chocolates (both earned him another kiss on the cheek but not one he really wanted). He offered to go find a new book for you again, to which you just shook your head. He invited you on a hunting trip to West Elizabeth, which he knew you liked a lot. Your resolve almost crumbled when he asked you to go to Big Valley, bathe in the sun, pick wild flowers and herbs and then lie in the open starlight and watch the skies. Again though, it’s not something that will only benefit him. You want him to ask you to do something or go somewhere that will be for him. He needs to take care of himself.

Just past noon, he finds you behind a wagon, hidden from sight of the others. He grabs your hand, taking you from your work. He tries to kiss you again, but you just dodge out his grasp with a playful smile.

“Darlin’, I will do whatever you want,” he says softly. “Hell, I’ll walk into the middle of this camp and declare my love for ya right now. Is that what you want? I know you’re gettin’ tired of hiding.”

You put your hands on your hips. “While tempting, Arthur, that’s not what I want. Have you really not figured it out yet?”

He shakes his head and puts his hands up. “I gotta admit, no I ain’t figured it out yet.”

You smile again. “Well, think back to our conversation this morning, it’ll come to you.”

He just sighs and walks away. As he does, you hear him muttering something about the mysteries of women.

********************************

It’s sunset and you’re sitting on the edge of Horseshoe Overlook on the cliff gazing out across the canyon and its river. You’re watching the first faint stars coming out as the sky grows darker. Arthur sits down beside you, having just finished his stew.

“You gonna relinquish yet?” he asks with a smile.

You grin back at him. “Never. You figured it out yet?”

He just looks away, his lips stretched into a small smile. “Maybe. I ain’t too sure, not like my streak is good. But, I had an idea.” He reaches into his satchel and pulls out his journal. You’ve never looked inside it, nor have you asked him since it’s no mystery he’s a very private man. He holds onto it tight and then undoes the straps. He flips it open to a page that has an incredibly detailed drawing of a piebald stag. He lets you inspect it, though you know he’s nervous.

“I never knew you could draw, Arthur,” you say softly, admiring the strokes.

“Just somethin’ Hosea taught me, and… I taught myself some too.”

He hands the book to you and allows you to flip through the pages, even reading some of his entries. You admire his writing, he writes with a beautiful hand. You smile and look at him.

“It’s beautiful, but why you showin’ me this?”

“Because I love you. Because… I want to be able to be completely open with ya, darlin’. Hide no secrets, share my fears with ya.”

This is big of him. There’s hardly a person in the world you truly knows the depth of Arthur Morgan. Even around Hosea, he plays the big dumb brute that many people see him as. You’ve known for a long time how sweet, gentle, intelligent and caring he is. In fact, he probably cares too much about the people in the gang.

You gently close the book and hand it back to him. He’s so damn close to earning that kiss, but you feel as though he has more to add. He takes the journal and puts it back in his satchel. He lays his hand on yours and looks out across the canyon.

“I was thinkin’,” he says slowly, “maybe tomorrow, you’d come with me. Help me find some… some colored pastels.”

“What for?” you ask. He’s growing hotter.

“I always wanted to experiment with ‘em, think they’d make my drawin’s better. It’ll be a trip though, probably have to go all the way down to Saint Denis to find ‘em. Valentine won’t have ‘em, I know that.”

“Arthur Morgan, are you asking me to help you find something for you?” you say.

He sighs and smiled, looking at you finally. “I guess I am. I know it’s selfish, but-”

You cut him off with a kiss. Not one on the cheek or even on his hand like you’d done earlier. Right on his warm, slightly dry lips. His hand goes up to your cheek and he moves with you. After a moment, you pull away from him.

“This is all I wanted,” you say. “It’s not selfish to take care of yourself just as well as you take care of everyone else, Arthur. You deserve to be loved too.”

He smiles, his thumb tracing over your cheek. “I don’t know what it is you see in me, but I’m glad you do.”

He hesitantly leans in, looking for another kiss, and you give it to him. He moves closer to you, moving you so you’re nearly in his lap. His strong arm winds behind you, his hand planting against your lower back. You loop your arms behind his neck, trapping him against your lips, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Neither of you care if anyone else sees you, tangled around one another like this.

After a few moments, you pull away slightly breathless. You slide your hand over his cheek, feeling his scruff scrape your palm. He puts his hand over yours.

“I just want you to take care of yourself, Arthur. I love you, and you should love yourself too. I know you’re a good man, despite your mistakes and sins. You’re too hard on yourself.”

He kisses your palm lightly. “I don’t know what I’d do without ya, honey. Probably end up dyin’ within the year if it weren’t for you.”

You kiss him softly again. “That’s not happening on my watch.”

He smiles. “Good, feels nice to have someone watchin’ my back. So we’ll go tomorrow when I get back.”

“Get back?” you say, pulling away slightly.

“I won’t be gone long. Just have to go collect another one of Strauss’s damn debts. From some do-gooder named Downes. I won’t be long.”

“You better not be. Just as long as he doesn’t kick your ass. Know some of these debtors try to.”

He grins. “If you’d seen this man, you know he won’t. There’s no way that man is takin’ me down.”

#rdr2 fanfic #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #awkward asks

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blackbirdmuses · 3 years

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Storm || Monologue

Heavy, black clouds hung over the skeletal trees at the edge of Halloween Town. Darkness swiftly descended and the first roll of thunder boomed in the distance. Storm sat on the roof of the treehouse, watching the horizon with expectant green eyes. There had always been something about encroaching tempests that had relaxed him. While his mother jolted at every flash of lightning, Storm stared up, wide eyed as the sky filled with jagged light. Perhaps it was because he was born during a colossal, raging storm, or maybe it was his namesake, but he’d always held an affinity with gloomy weather. He would nestle himself among the broken slates, pressing himself to the hollow base of the dead tree, then, he’d wait patiently for the first droplets of rain to fall from the weighted heavens.

However, something more than an anticipated downpour had coaxed Storm to his perch on the roof today. He’d had an argument with his twin brother, Thorn. It seemed as though, in their ten years of living, neither of them had ever had a very serious disagreement; until today. The boys had got into trouble over a piece of graffiti on the back wall of the Town Hall (a drawing that Storm had concocted) and, instead of taking his share of the blame in encouraging Storm, Thorn had placed all the blame on Storm and managed to escape punishment. Now, Storm would have to spend his entire weekend cleaning the wall by himself. The twins had fought, loudly shouting at one another and stomping around until Thorn had retreated to their bedroom and Storm had run for the rooftop.

With his knees up at his chest and his hood firmly hooked over his head, Storm watched a bright flash illuminate the billowing clouds on the horizon. “Stupid Thorn,” he muttered. “Wasn’t even my idea. Always getting me into trouble for nothin’.”

He kicked a slate from the roof, watching it slide down the edge until it smashed on the ground below. With a huff, he heard a gentle scuffing sound behind him. It was probably Thorn, so he ignored it.

“Thought I might find ya out here,” That wasn’t Thorn’s voice. Storm turned around and looked up to face his father. The shadows dropped away from his sides and he leaned one arm against the dead tree. “Mind if I join you?”

Storm licked his lips and shook his head, shuffling aside to allow him to sit next to him. Now he was in for it. His father hadn’t been around when the Mayor had berated the twins for their graffiti, but he had assured the twins that he would tell him all about it when he saw him. Thorn hadn’t taken the threat seriously, but Storm had. Look who was right, he thought.

Oogie lowered himself into a seated position next to Storm, casting a glance towards him. “Ah,” he breathed, pointing at his hood. “Probably a good idea.” Storm blinked, watching as his father scooped a hand down towards the shadow of the dead tree and swept it over his shoulders like a cape. When the darkness parted, a dark green hood appeared over his brown curls and covered his shoulders.

Against himself, Storm couldn’t help but smile. “Cool,” he muttered. Oogie looked towards their view. “Won’t be long ‘til that storm hits us, huh?” he commented. “Your mother will pro’ly want us to come inside before it starts gettin’ too close, though.”

Storm sighed, scratching at his hands. “I don’t wanna go back inside.” He could feel his father looking at him again. “That ‘cause of your fight with Thorn?” he asked him earnestly. Storm didn’t answer. “I heard ‘bout what happened today. You ain’t in trouble.” Storm blinked, turning back to him. “I’m not?”

Oogie shook his head. “I thought your drawin’ was pretty gruesome, actually,” he admitted. “Although, you pro’ly shoulda picked a different wall-” Storm shifted around. “That’s what I said! But Thorn wouldn’t listen! He said that wall looked too boring and needed kickin’ up a notch!” Oogie chuckled under his breath. “Well, it’s certainly a lot more vibrant now, that’s for sure. I like the colours you chose, neon green an’ red? An’ that skull with the snake comin’ out of it? You got a real gift, Storm.”

Storm smiled. He’d always hidden his artwork in sketchbooks before, just doodling in the margins of writing pages or on the corner of napkins. It had been Thorn that had noticed his talents and suggested the idea of street art, but after the Mayor and some of the townsfolks’ reaction, it had felt as if Thorn had encouraged him just to get him into trouble. Thorn had insisted that wasn’t the case, but Storm couldn’t help but feel betrayed nevertheless. “Does that mean I don’t have to clean it off the wall?” he had to ask.

Oogie heaved a sigh. “Afraid not, fella,” he confessed. “You kinda covered up an important notice board with ‘Boogie’s Boys’ an’ some folks ain’t very happy about that, but...I guess y’know that already.” Storm looked at his feet dejectedly. Off in the distance, the thunder continued to ominously rumble and lightning cracked through the clouds. “I wish Thorn would listen to me,” he muttered. “I told him it was a bad idea...and now everybody hates me.”

“Hates you?” scoffed Oogie. “Storm, nobody hates you. All you did was upset a couple ghouls, but forget about ‘em! The Mayor changes moods as quickly as he changes faces an’ the other ghouls will have forgotten all about it in a week.” Storm sniffed. “I thought you’d hate me.” Oogie’s gaze softened. “Me? Why?” Storm buried his face in his knees. “Because...you’re friends with the Mayor and Uncle Jack and they were mad at me and that’d make you mad and then you’d hate me-”

Storm looked up as he felt an arm wrap around him, pulling him closer to his father. “Stormy, kiddo...” he breathed. “...I could never hate ya, okay? Never. You’re my son an’ I love you. One li’l’ badly placed wall doodle ain’t gonna change that.”

Swallowing thickly, Storm wiped his eyes and rested his head on the side of his father’s chest. Storm had almost expected his father to lose his temper and lecture him about how disappointed he was, as he had done on the couple of occasions where he and Thorn had almost fallen into the acidic vat of sewage or played among the - mostly - dismantled sharp instruments in the Lair. It had seemed as serious as that when the Mayor was huffing and puffing at him in town.

“An’ you know someone else who could never hate you?” asked Oogie. “Thorn.” Storm pursed his lips and sat up straight, looking into his father’s eyes. “But, he deliberally got me in trouble, Dad!” Oogie hummed and shook his head. “I don’t think he did. I figure that Thorn really thought his idea was a good one, an’ when he saw you gettin’ in trouble...he panicked.” Storm frowned. “Thorn? Panic?”

Oogie leaned in, looking left and right before he whispered: “Wanna know a secret? Somethin’ that even Thorn’ll never tell ya?” Storm blinked, nodding enthusiastically. “He’s real scared of bein’ caught red handed when you guys set up pranks.” Storm’s eyes widened. “He is?” “Oh, you bet! An’ I should know, because I’m the-” “Boogieman!” hissed Storm, amazed. It suddenly made sense why Thorn was eager to ensure their pranks were quick, concise and failproof every time they set them up. Storm had always assumed that he was just being efficient, but this made a lot more sense.

“An’ I’ll betcha anythin’ that he was just as scared of gettin’ in trouble as you,” continued Oogie. “An’ I know for a fact that he’s real sorry ‘bout it, too.” Storm made a face, looking off onto the horizon. Rain was beginning to fall in the distance, making dark spots on the ridged grass at the edge of the moors. Against his frustration at his twin, Storm had to admit to himself that he was missing his brother. They were rarely ever apart for longer than a few hours, and it felt like much longer than that today.

“I guess I could talk to him,” sighed Storm, watching the rain getting closer. “Atta boy!” breathed Oogie, ruffling his hood and looking into the distance. “We should get inside real soon, huh?” Storm looked up at his father. “Think Mom’ll mind if we stay in the rain for a little bit?” Oogie returned his gaze to the approaching rain. “As long as neither of us catches a cold an’ we dry off when we get inside, I don’t see why not.”

“Thanks Dad.” replied Storm, lifting his face as the rain came thundering down upon the roof, soaking the two of them within seconds. Storm broke into a peal of laughter and he could hear his father join him. Rain cut through his jacket and onto his t-shirt, weighing him down as the thunder roared above them. “Okay, let’s go!” shouted Oogie, wrapping an arm around him. Darkness covered them both in a blanket, and the next thing he knew, he was flopping into the sofa with his father sitting next to him, the sound of the storm far above them.

“That was fun.”

#| monologue: twins #[A quick monologue from when the twins were younger :3]

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a-chaotic-dumbass · 3 years

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🌈 Do you use more warm or cold colors?

✏️ Do you prefer traditional art or digital to relax?

🖍️ When did you start drawing? Do you remember?

💐 Do your drawing suit your aesthetics?

🦋 Do your drawings resemble you?

For the art thingy🤩✌️

i tend to use kind of a mix? it depends on the character's colors, but i rlly like usin warmer ones

tbh, im startin to like digital more than traditional at this point. like, i like drawin in traditional and all, but digital is just more fun

oof. i mean, i was drawin almoust all my life, but i droped art for more than 3 or 5 years, so i think i picked it up agian in 2019

sum of em do. tho i do lots of meme redraws, but when i actualy do sumthin else, it does tend to be more pink and sumtimes had gothic under tones. i dont post it much tho

i mean, kinda? i cus like, i just draw to escape reality and all, but lots of my drawings are vent art so??

#asks #rurifangirl

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neerasrealm · 4 years

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just imagine this: slender and jack are going out and bc all the responsible pastas are out they hire a babysitter (y/n) to look after slendra. she’s rlly shy at first but eventually she and y/n become best friends (and they steal slender’s gramophone to play some music while they make cookies and maybe wreck the kitchen in the process depending on y/n and slendra’s combined skills)

I ABSOLUTELY ADORE THIS REQUEST AND I HAD A BLAST WRITING IT sorry it took so long school murdered me plus I was jumping from draft to draft and just. A lot happened ok. I didn’t get all the prompts in because I couldn’t work em in but I feel like I did good. I loved writing y/n just subtly noticing that this house Is Not Human and it- it was a fun dynamic to do gshdjdshj Also new hc this is the origin story for y/n in the poly slenjack fics

You're starting to have regrets about taking this babysitting job. Maybe it was that you'd seen too many slasher movies, or maybe you were just paranoid. Or maybe it was the fact that you were dragging your bike through the woods in order to get to the address you'd been given. The sane part of your brain is saying that this is dangerous and you should turn back, but the broke millennial part of your brain is saying that the $500 paycheck is too good to pass up. I mean- $500? For babysitting for one night? That's insane! It’s gotta be a joke right? Maybe it is. Maybe you are going to be murdered horribly tonight in the middle of the woods.

You’re broken out of your thoughts by the sight of- a house. Presumably the house you’re supposed to be babysitting in. It’s gigantic- more of a mansion than a house. The outside looks refined and welcoming. There’s even flowers planted around the place. Cute pink pansies and blossoming bushes of roses. You look around hesitantly, then wheel your bike along up to the front door. You very carefully lean it against the wall and look around some more. How come you never heard about this place? I mean- a giant house in the woods? Why has that never come up? You’d think someone would talk about it, right?

As you’re looking around this odd place you realise something. It’s sprawling with cats. At first you only noticed a couple, and assumed they were pets, but now your counting has hit the double digits. Why do cats hang around here? Are they all pets? Is the owner of this mysterious house a cat person? Or do they just- kidnap cats? What if you’re babysitting a cat…

Okay no that’s dumb. You turn around again and knock on the front door. It’s silent for a moment, and out of awkwardness you look down at your feet. You’re standing on a fancy doormat that reads ‘welcome’ in elegant cursive. The door opens and your head shoots up to attention.

Standing in the doorway is a tall man. Far taller than you. His skin is deathly pale, almost white, and his hair is neat and blonde. He’s wearing a suit, and as he looks down at you you realise his eyes are the brightest blue you’ve ever seen.

‘’M-mister Schlankwald?’’ you ask, stepping back and away from this strange man. He nods and smiles.

‘’That’s me.’’ he holds out a hand to you. ‘’You must be y/n, yes? The babysitter?’’ he smiles gently, and you realise he actually- looks kind of nervous. That’s a tad reassuring. You take his hand and shake it. You nod.

‘’Yeah, that’s me.’’ you say. He steps aside and you cross the threshold. As you take your coat off you look around. Past the small entryway is a large living room. There're three whole couches, and a few more armchairs scattered around. There’s a large TV surrounded by cabinets full of DVDs and videogames- it looks like a very luxurious place. And also there’s more cats just- hanging around in various places, but you’re not really paying attention to them. Your attention is grabbed by the person standing in the living room. He’s- insanely tall, with long black hair, striped socks and sleeves, feathers on his shoulders for some reason and- bandages. Just wrapped around his torso. He’s also wearing a grey crop top, and what you assume to be white face paint. His nose is striped too, and cone shaped. Everything he’s wearing is either black or white. You stare at him in surprise and just- disbelief. He raises a hand in greeting.

‘’Ey.’’ his voice is deep and rough. ‘’Ye’re th’ si’er?’’

You blink for a moment, not sure what he- even just said. ‘’Y-yes?’’ you say, hoping that’s the right answer. Apparently it was, because he smiles at you.

‘’Ah!’’ he steps towards you and leans down, holding out his hand. ‘’Me name’s Jack. pleased ta mee’ ya!’’

You shake his hand and nod. ‘’I’m y/n.’’ you murmur. Jack stands back up and you look over your shoulder at Mr Schlankwald. He gestures to the other male.

‘’This is Jack, my husband,’’ he explains. ‘’Do excuse the makeup. He’s a performer, you see.’’

‘’Ah.’’ you relax a bit. A performer...that makes sense. I guess. You look around a bit. ‘’So uh- where’s the kid?’’ In all this strangeness you almost forgot why you hiked into the deep dark woods.

‘’Righ’ ‘ere.’’ You turn to look at Jack again and watch him step aside to reveal a small girl who’d apparently been hiding behind him before. Her eyes widen as she comes into view and she stares at you. Her skin is a dark, almost reddish-brown colour. Her face is peppered with freckles and her hair hangs around her shoulders. It’s bright blonde, like Mr Schlankwald’s, but a bit more yellow. She quickly skitters back to Jack’s leg and hides behind him again. You frown. Jack looks at you. ‘’She’s a bi’ shy.’’ he murmurs. He crouches down to the girl. ‘’Ey, luv, i’s okay. Th’ si’er isn’ gonna ‘urt ya.’’

‘’Wh-wha’ if I scare ‘em or say somefink?’’ she mumbles. She has the slightest hint of her father’s accent, but more- refined almost. And a lot easier to understand.

‘’Ye’re no’ gonna, ye’re a smart girlie, ain’t ya?’’

Mr Schlankwald taps your shoulder and you look over at him. ‘’We- haven’t gotten a sitter before, so she’s a little nervous about the whole thing.’’

You nod. ‘’That’s alright, I’ve had shy kids before.’’ you smile at him. He seemingly brightens up.

‘’Righ’,’’ Jack’s voice interrupts you two. You look at him as he stands up. The girl shyly steps out from behind him and Jack lightly pats her head, ruffling her hair. ‘’We’d be’er ge’ goin’, luv.’’

‘’Of course.’’ Mr Schlankwald says. He shakes your hand once more and then looks at the girl. He holds out his arms and she quickly runs over, hugging him tight. ‘’Be good now, won’t you my dear?’’

‘’I will.’’ she mumbles. Her parents step away, with Jack heading for the door. Mr Schlankwald looks at you again.

‘’Her bedtime is at nine thirty, snacks are in the kitchen,’’ he nods towards a door behind you. ‘’Feel free to help yourself.’’

‘’Got it!’’ you chirp back as they leave. Once the door has closed it’s just you and the girl. She turns slowly and looks at you. You smile at her and lean down to her. ‘’Hiya.’’ you greet. ‘’I’m y/n. What’s your name?’’

She gulps and steps towards you. The tiny child looks you dead in the eyes and holds out her hand to you. ‘’I’m Slendra. Slendra Jackson.’’ she says with all the authority of a business CEO. you almost, ALMOST, crack up laughing but force yourself to take her seriously. You shake her hand.

‘’Well nice to meet you.’’ she retracts her hand. ‘’How old are you, Slendra?’’

‘’Fo-’’ she stops. ‘’Eigh'. I’m eigh'.’’ she folds her hands behind her back, just like her father did. You smile at her. She takes after her father, you suppose. It’s cute.

‘’So what do you like? Got any hobbies?’’

‘’Uhh…’’ she toys with the sleeve of her striped shirt. ‘’I like...music...and bakin'...I like readin' too and uh-’’ she shrugs. ‘’That’s abou' it, I guess.’’

You nod. ‘’I see.’’ you smile at her. ‘’So what do you wanna do? We got…’’ you glance down at your watch. ‘’Three and a half hours to kill.’’ She shifts on her feet and shrugs again. You tilt your head at her. ‘’We could watch TV...maybe draw something? Are you hungry?’’

She seems to perk up a little bit. ‘’I have drawin’ stuff in my room,’’ she says. ‘’We could do tha'.’’ there’s a glint of excitement in her eyes. ‘’I-if you want to.’’

‘’Of course I do,’’ you stand up and smile at her. ‘’Lead the way.’’

Slendra smiles a little in excitement and turns, heading quickly up the stairs. You follow after her, looking around curiously. This place is massive. Upstairs is a hallway with doors running all along the right. Each one is decorated differently. One is striped, with ‘laughing jack’ written on it, another is pink with a castle-shaped sign on it that reads ‘Sally’ and under it ‘& Dina’ is written in what looks like sharpie. The one right across from the stairs that Slendra climbs up has a metal sign on it, decorated with a skull and crossbones, that reads ‘Kate’s room, keep out!’

You follow Slendra up the staircase and arrive on the third floor. Slendra leads you to her room. Her door is also decorated, with flowers and butterflies and bowties. Her walls are purple, and the room kind of reminds you of...and office. She has a large desk covered in boxes and papers. Shelves are piled high with toys and trinkets, and she has a massive bookcase stuffed to the brim with- well, books. Fairy lights hang over her bed, which is large and round and covered in pillows and plushies. Glow in the dark stickers decorate her ceiling and walls.

Slendra grabs a large plastic tub from under her desk and drops some paper sheets onto it. She picks up the tub and smiles at you. You frown. ‘’Isn’t that heavy?’’

‘’Huh?’’ she looks at the box. ‘’I guess- I’m kind’ve strong though.’’

You smile a bit. ‘’I bet you are.’’ you step towards the door and open it. ‘’C’mon. If you need help with that I’ll take it.’’

Slendra shakes her head and walks past you. ‘’I got it.’’ she says, holding her head up proudly to show off how big and independent she is. You smirk a bit and follow after her. You walk past the hallway of odd doors and through the living room into the kitchen. Slendra places her box on the dining table and smiles over her shoulder at you. You glance around the kitchen. it’s- well, a normal kitchen. The fridge is covered in children’s drawings and magnets, but oddly no photos. Thinking about it now, you haven’t seen a single photo up on the walls. Odd.

‘’So you like drawing, huh?’’ you say to Slendra. She pulls out a chair, which has a big ginger cat sleeping on it. She pets it and nods.

‘’My brother Helen is an ar'ist. He lets me join 'im sometimes, and he teaches me a lo'.’’ she smiles over at you.

‘’Your brother’s name is Helen?’’

‘’Yeah.’’ she tilts her head. ‘’It’s a unisex name innit?’’

You- don’t really have the heart to say no, so you just nod. ‘’How many siblings do you have?’’ you ask, watching the ginger cat roll over. Slendra scratches its stomach.

‘’Ten.’’ she replies without batting an eye. You freeze for a second. You blink. Huh- so- Mr Schlankwald, the strange gay man who lives in a mansion in the woods, apparently has eleven children. You slowly tilt your head.

‘’How many people live here…?’’

‘’Fourteen, though my uncle Ivan sometimes comes to visi', so maybe fifte- oh!’’ she’s interrupted by the ginger cat suddenly jumping down off the chair and wandering off somewhere. She climbs up onto the now empty chair and looks over the table at you. "Dad left snacks for us," she points over at the counter by the fridge. "Do you wanna grab some?"

"Oh uh- sure." You walk over to the counter Slendra pointed to. There's some plates and a bowl covered in tin foil, probably to keep the cats from eating whatever's been left for you. You grab one of the plates and peel away the tin foil. You're greeted by a plate that's sectioned into thirds. Each third contains...snacks? Of some sort. One section is miscellaneous coloured potato chips, one is full of little black squares that look like...seaweed? Maybe? And the third section looks like- thin slices of various vegetables. Dried out to a crisp. You slowly glance over at Slendra.

"What're uh- what're these?"

"Oh! Dad's healthy snacks. They're real good." She smiles. "Try one!"

You hesitate, then reach to grab one of the potato chips. They're all different colours. Orange, red, yellow- even a couple purple ones. You grab a yellow one and very carefully bite into it. Your eyes widen as you chew. It's...good. really good. A nice balance of cheese, onion- are those chives? Yeah! Chives. Fancy. You pick up a second, orange one and toss it into your mouth. It's a bit sweeter, but still just as good.

Pulling aside the foil on the bowl you're greeted by popcorn, nuts, and various shaped potato chips that also appear to be homemade. You grab one and toss it into your mouth, and get hit with soy sauce and spices. Surprising, but still really good. It reminds you of asian takeout. You take the foil off the last plate and- "Oh! Cookies!"

"Yep! Dad made 'em especially for you." Slendra says as she opens the box she brought down and pulls out a few things. "He always tries to make sure we have food for guests. Every time we ge’ a visitor he tries to feed 'em."

"Huh…" you grab the plates very carefully and carry them over to the table, setting them down between you and Slendra, who's already begun her drawing. "What is your dad like anyway? How'd he afford a giant place like this?" You ask as you wander back over to grab the bowl you left.

"Oh uh- well-" she suddenly seems nervous. "He said tha’…" she pauses for a moment, like she's thinking. "He invested in stocks b'fore the economy wen’ bad." She finishes, speaking like she's reciting a line. You smile a bit.

"I see." You put down the bowl of various snacks and grab another potato chip. Slendra reaches over and grabs one of the black squares of seaweed, biting into it and crunching on it happily. "Weird that I never heard about this place, huh? Giant mansion in the woods…’’ Slendra stares at you, eyes wide. ‘’...That’s full of cats for some reason…’’

She nods and smiles sheepishly. ‘’Heheh, yeah…’’ she puts down her pencil and grabs a thin, dried out tomato slice, crunching on it quietly. ‘’Dad feeds 'em. He loves cats.’’

‘’Huh.’’ you grab a cookie from the plate and bite into it. It’s soft and crumbles in your mouth. Like shortbread, but with deliciously sweet chocolate chips. Without thinking you reach for a second one before you’ve even finished your first. ‘’So what’re you drawing?’’ you tilt your head at her.

‘’Fairies.’’

‘’Oh yeah?’’ you lean over to get a look. You were expecting to see friendly, childish drawings of little people with wings, but instead...you’re greeted by creatures with odd proportions, eyes in odd places, sharp teeth and mean expressions. ‘’...oh.’’ you regain your composure quickly. Kids sometimes draw scary things, it’s normal- probably. ‘’You’re really good at drawing.’’

‘’Ehh…’’ she shrugs. ‘’I guess. I’m still learnin'. Helen says I’m gettin’ better though!’’

You smile a bit. ‘’Keep practicing. By the time you’re ten I bet you’ll be amazing.’’

Slendra laughs a bit. ‘’I only really draw when Helen asks me if I want to.’’ she murmurs. ‘’I mostly like to sing.’’

‘’Oh yeah?’’

"Uh-huh. Dad taugh’ me to play piano, and pops taugh’ me the accordion." She grabs a handful of popcorn, chips and nuts from the bowl and calmly grabs a single nut, putting it in her mouth and crunching on it softly. "I'm learnin' ukulele right now."

"Wow," you tilt your head at her. "Guess your parents can afford a lot of tutors for you, huh?"

"Nah, we're all homeschooled."

"Oh." You blink in surprise. "Does your dad do all of that?"

"Uh-huh. He's real smart." Slendra puts down her pencil and neatly puts her page aside. She delicately grabs a couple more snacks. She has awfully good table manners. A thing that comes from her father, you guess. ‘’He makes learnin’ fun too. My brothers say school is real borin’.’’

‘’Huh…’’

You spend a couple hours sitting there with her, watching her draw odd creatures and talk about her even more odd family. The cookies have been eaten, and most of the other snacks are gone completely. Including the seaweed squares, which weren't actually all that bad when you tried them. And now you're lounging back in your chair, petting a chubby chausie cat that's apparently named Brian.

"So...he covered up...the hole in the wall...by making more holes."

"Yep."

"...No offense but this Jeff guy sounds pretty dumb." You say. Slendra laughs a bit as she puts away her coloured pencils, dropping them back into the large box of supplies she brought down.

"Jeffery is a good boy, he means well." She murmurs. She grabs the last of the dried out tomato slices and crunches it down. "Wha’ now?"

You shrug. "I dunno. Whatever you want." you smile at her. She frowns in thought, then suddenly perks up.

"Oh! I could practice my music," she looks suddenly excited. "Dad has a lo’ of records in ‘is office. Could we listen to those? And I can play along with my ukulele."

You shrug and smile at her. ‘’Sure, I don’t see why not,’’ you tilt your head. ‘’Where’s his office?’’

‘’Downstairs.’’ Slendra hops off her chair and grabs the box. ‘’I’ll grab my things! You go wait.’’ she adds before quickly leaving the room. You laugh a bit and grab the last couple potato chips, then the half-empty bowl, just in case. After nudging Brian off your lap you walk down to the basement and look around. There’s a few rooms, but the thing that catches your attention the most though is the lounge area that’s full of comfy looking chairs and cabinets stuffed with videogames. And also the cats, there’s even more down here, but you’re kind of used to them by now.

You glance around at the doors down here. There’s three doors on the left, and none of them are really decorated. There’s a couple other doors, and one of them has a large padlock on it for some reason. The one next to it, surprisingly, is decorated. Fish and deep sea creatures are painted onto it. You’re pulled out of your thoughts by footsteps on the stairs. You look towards them and see Slendra running down them with a ukulele in hand. She grins at you as she walks up to you. You notice she has a small concertina accordion hanging off her waist from a shoulder strap. ‘’Dad has the door locked,’’ she says as she walks past you towards the last door on the left. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out...a cat claw…? You frown. ‘’I can ge’ it open though.’’

You watch her attempt to pick the lock with the claw. ‘’uh...I don’t think that’s gonna-’’

‘’Click!’’ the door opens as if to spite you. Slendra grins over at you.

‘’Told you!’’ she chirps. She walks into the office and you follow her in, bemused. Inside the office is...odd. Grey walls and carpet, lots of bookshelves, a cat tree in the corner, and comfy looking wicker chairs in front of the desk. On the walls are photos of Slendra and other kids who you assume to be her siblings. There’s an...odd painting hanging on the wall across from the door. It contains two faceless white beings, a similar being with black eyes and no mouth and a strange creature with similar black eyes and a wide smile. You frown at it. Abstract art, you suppose. The creatures remind you of Slendra’s drawings.

‘’Here we go!’’ Slendra catches your attention again. She’s knelt on the ground, looking through a drawer stuffed with records. You glance over at a table in the corner of the room. To your surprise, it isn’t a record player, it’s a gramophone. An old looking one at that. Must be an antique. It honestly wouldn’t surprise you if Mr Schlankwald was a collector or something like that. Slendra gets up and very carefully places a record on the player and drops the needle. It’s silent for a couple moments and then a delicate piano starts playing. Slendra strums her ukulele and begins to sing.

‘’I know...you belo-o-ong to so-omebody ne-ew…’’ her voice is almost...mesmerising. You relax despite yourself as she sings along. ‘’But tonight, you belo-ong to me.’’ Maybe you’re imagining it, but you swear you can hear multiple voices coming from her. Or maybe it’s just the vocals from the record. You’re not really paying attention. Instead you sit down in one of the wicker chairs and watch her. ‘’Although…’’ she smiles a bit. ‘’You’re a apa-a-art, of my he-e-a-art,’’ her eyes catch yours. They seem to glint a moment and something- odd, passes over you. You suddenly feel extremely relaxed, all tenseness leaving your body. You lean back in your chair. ‘’And tonight, you belo-ong, to me.’’

-------

You don’t remember much else from the evening after that. Just that Slendra continued singing along to the greatest hits from the fifties and sixties. Things start to become a bit less fuzzy around nine thirty. Her bedtime. You read her a bedtime story, told her goodnight with a wide smile, and took a seat on the couch downstairs. Which is where you are now, watching a movie in the dim lighting. You feel...good. Really happy for some unknown reason. Not that you’re complaining.

The front door opens and you glance over as Mr Schlankwald steps inside. He closes the umbrella he's holding while Jack shakes himself off, kind of like a dog. Mr Schlankwald looks over at you and smiles.

"Ah, hello." He steps towards you, with Jack following after. He strides past the blonde and collapses himself in one of the armchairs. Somehow his makeup is still flawless despite the rain outside. "How were things?" He asks, tilting his head. He seems nervous, slightly. Jack opens one eye and looks over at you.

"Good," you sit up. "No trouble at all. She behaved excellently, we just sorta...chilled." you smile a bit. "She's the most well behaved kid I've ever looked after honestly. She didn't even complain when it came to her bedtime."

"Oh!" Mr Schlankwald smiles a bit. "I'm glad to hear that- we were worried, eheh." He reaches into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. He frowns. "Hm...Jack have you got three hu-"

"Righ' 'ere luv." Jack reaches into his striped sleeve and pulls out a small wad of notes. Mr Schlankwald smiles and takes them, folding them up neatly before holding them out to you.

"Five hundred, as agreed." He says as you quickly count the money. You knew you'd be getting that amount but still, actually holding the money now you can hardly believe it. You stand up quickly.

"Thank you." You barely manage to get the words out. "I had a great time babysitting her- I uh- I've babysat some real demons before so uh- heheh-" you're just rambling now because of the sheer elation of actually being given five hundred fucking dollars. Mr Schlankwald smiles, as polite as ever.

"Well, if we ever need another sitter we'll call you." He says, walking over to the door. He grabs your coat from the coat rack and holds it out. Quickly, you walk over to him and take it. He opens the door while you put it on. "Do get home safe," he murmurs. "Does your bike have a light? Do you need an umbrella?" He frowns at you, apparently worried.

"No, no. I'll be fine." You give him an anxious smile while you pull your hood up and step outside. You grab your bike, flicking on the light on the front of it. Mr Schlankwald smiles at you, pleased to see that you won't be in the dark going home. You walk off towards the forest path you followed earlier and wave over at him.

"Get home safe!" He calls as he waves back.

"I will!" You turn away from him and smile wide.

That's the best babysitting gig you've ever had.

You really, really hope they call you back for another night...

#ask #request #frozensriracha #writing request #creepypasta #creepypasta oc #slendra jackson #slenderman #laughing jack #creepypasta fanfic #creepypasta fanfiction #writing #slenjack #y/n

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enigmatist17 · 4 years

Text

Pen to Paper (Uncharted)

I need to stress how much a good big brother Sam is.

Pls NaughtyDog

More Sam and Nate pls

-------------------

Nathan had started drawing young. Even as a young child the art fascinated him, clumsy fingers wrapping around crayons and pencils. Various books throughout the Morgan household, as well as walls and curtains within reach. Sure, being yelled at by a father that was hardly around wasn’t fun, but Nathan just wanted to share his art with everyone. The child was beyond ecstatic when his brother came home with a notebook one day, happily handing it to Nathan.

“You practice in that, ‘kay? This way, you can keep ‘em forever.” Nathan had nodded, giving Sam a tight hug before going to cover the blank and waiting pages. The notebook had been the first of a small set before their world came crashing to a halt. The loss of Cassandra had been hard on the household, a stoic father ordering the boys to prepare to be taken to an orphanage. Nathan had protested, Sam quietly gathering up keepsakes as child yelled at father. Sam wasn’t sure where the idea came from, but after locking up their keepsakes in a forgotten chest, he spent the better part of an hour burying them in a deep section of the garden. It was a sturdy chest, remaining hidden for dozens of years in its hiding spot. Family after family moved in and out of the house the Drake brothers had called home over the years, and still the chest remained.

The current family received a visit one day, a man answering the door with twin girls peeking from behind his legs. A man was standing on the porch, in his late-forties and quickly stubbing out a cigarette with an apologetic smile. He introduced himself as the brother to Nathan Drake, being invited inside after explaining it had once been his home. Sam spent the day reminiscing, the little girls warming up to him as their parents asked him curious questions. The mother and father helped Sam, later that evening after insisting he stayed for dinner, dig up the chest he sought. It had weathered in the soil, the lock falling off with a simple strike of Sam’s shovel. Doing a minimal cleaning of the outside, they helped load the chest into the back of Sam’s truck.

“Thanks for this, I’ve been meaning ta come an’ visit.” Sam glanced back at the house, a pensive look on his face.

“Well, you and your brother are always welcomed back.” The mother gave him a small hug, nearly throwing Sam off. She hugged him as Cassandra did, Sam certainly not wiping away a tear as he drove off. For a good week, the trunk sat in his car, carefully covered by a tarp as Sam kept wavering back and forth. Sometimes he would grip the handle, ready to pull it up and open, but every time something would stop him. He awoke one night, mind made up as he grabbed his phone with a slight curse. Sully to his credit didn’t ask much, just cursing the dirt that stained his newest shirt, Sam just grinning when he offered a bill. The flight to Hawaii was surprisingly calm, the two chuckling when little Cassie saw them from the beach. The little girl jumped up and down, Elena keeping up behind her as the girl ran for Sully’s dock.

“Hey, there sweetheart!” Seeing the bright-eyed blonde always lifted his and Sully’s mood, the pilot scooping her up as Sam watched from afar.

“I didn’t know you were coming!” Cassie gave them a bright smile, hugging onto Sully tight.

“Yep, this is a surprise visit.” Sam grinned, finally walking over and ruffling her hair. The girl laughed, swatting away his hand as Elena finally joined them. “Hey Elena, how’ve ya been?”

“Pretty good, all things considering. I thought you were taking it easy for a while?” Sam shrugged, watching as Sully wandered off with his niece.

“Hey, is Nate around?” Elena nodded, pointing towards the secondary building that doubled as her and Nathan’s office. “Warning, he’s deep in research...again.”

“Then I taught him right.” Sam chuckled, looking back at the plane. “Can I borrow ya for a second?”

“Sure.” It didn’t take much effort for the two to lift a trunk from the back of Sully’s plane, carrying it up to the office as they chatted amicably. Nathan was startled from his work when something was placed on his desk with a loud thud.

“Hey, what gives! I was...Sam?” The way Nathan would brighten at seeing his older brother never got tiring for Sam.

“That’s my name.” He laughed, leaning against the desk as Nathan moved to hug his brother. The smile vanished when he saw the object on his desk, looking at Sam with slightly wide eyes.

“Is that…?” Sam nodded, resting a hand on top. “I finally got around to getting it.” Nathan gave out a shocked laugh, circling the chest before looking up at Sam.

“I...have you opened it?” Sam shook his head, stepping back.

“Nope, all yours little brother.” Nathan stared at him, the two sharing a conversation in a glance before looking at the chest. Placing both hands on the lid, the younger Drake pulled the lid up with surprising ease. A trash bag was the first thing he saw, covered in dirt and some leftover moisture. It all but fell apart with a simple tug, the bits of weathered plastic gathering on the ground around the desk.

The top of a white box met his eyes, the lid carefully removed to reveal its contents. The first thing he saw was a small wooden carving, a figure from one of their mothers’ past digs. Slightly trembling hands lifted the figure, remembering how Cassandra had treasured it and how she had taught the tale to her sons late at night. Nathan stood staring at it, Sam reaching forward to grasp the next piece he had scuttled away years ago. It was a heavy disk, inset with numerous runes of some forgotten people. Nathan had found it on the last dig their mother was able to go on, Sam smuggling it out of the sight.

“You found your first treasure Nate!” Nathan had often wondered if the small act had been the reason he sought out small and forgotten treasures over the years. Currently locked away from Cassie, many of those lay in its cabinet, awaiting the day he and Elena would explain all. The disk, made of steel, sat heavy in Sam’s hands, the elder brother smiling as he gave it a close inspection.

“I remember when you found this...man that seems like a lifetime ago.” Sam chuckled, setting it down as Nathan lay the figure beside it.

“I just remember how mom almost caught you.” Sam rolled his eyes as Nathan snickered, pulling up a small cloth bag. “Holy crap...I thought I had lost these…”

“Go on, see if they still move.” Nathan carefully opened the bag, five small stone-like objects falling into the palm of his hand. At first, they just glittered in the sunlight from outside, making Nathan pout a little. About to set them down, Nathan grinned when the stones began to rattle, a glow emanating from the center of each one. In front of their eyes, each stone took the form of some variant of ancient dragons, their bodies rattling as they stretched and took in the room. Elena watched with wide eyes as the creatures seemed to recognize the brothers, Sam laughing as two jumped onto his outstretched hand. For a few minutes, the brothers let them do as they pleased, Sam eventually reaching into the chest again. He re-emerged with some sort of helmet, Nathan looking surprised as he reached out to touch it.

“You stole that from his collection?” Sam nodded, setting it right on Nathan’s head.

“Reminds me of that lady’s house, when you kept that samurai helmet on.” Nathan gave a shrug, reaching up to rub the side of the helmet. His mood seemed to be shifting, taking on a slightly sorrowful look as Sam dug around some more. A shawl was handled like it was made of glass, two of the little dragons nesting on top. The elder paused at the sight of neatly stacked books, the faint stench of mildew rising up when one by one they were pulled out. Some were white journals, the two silent as they were carefully stacked aside. Others were leather-bound books, sixteen-century Spanish inscribed on the sides among varying other old languages. Whatever Sam seemed to be looking for appeared to be on the very bottom, six books pulled out and sat beside the white journals.

“Oh my god...you saved them?” Nathan sounded touched, eyeing the stack as Elena slowly entered the room.

“What are they?”

“These are the sketchbooks of Nathan Drake, circa ages four to about ten.” Sam announced proudly, holding one out to his sister-in-law. Elena took it with a bit of a smile, opening it halfway through. A drawing of some sort of church met her, looking surprisingly detailed despite the smudge here and there. Notes were scrawled in the corner and ledger, something that Nathan still did to this day.

“This is amazing for someone that young.” She flashed her husband, who looked fairly uncomfortable, a smile.

“Nate’s always been good at drawin’, ever since I can remember.” Sam boasted, clearly proud of his brother. Elena chuckled as she flipped through the pages, the brothers beginning to talk about past experiences.

Elena had never pried into Nathan’s, then later Sam’s, past life. Sure, she had been skeptical of his claim as the unknown heir to Sir Francis Drake, who wouldn’t be? Whatever they did to start over had been top-notch, Elena’s contacts coming up only that they had begun their lives at the age of 13 and 18 respectively. To see Property of Nathan Morgan scrawled on the cover was fairly jarring to say the least, Elena taking a closer look.

Fisher-Drake suited her just fine if she was honest. Looking up, Elena smiled at the sight of her boys animatedly chatting about some theft, one stone dragon nestled up in Nathan’s hair while another rested upon Sam’s cigarette case.

Questions could come another time, for now two brothers laughed over artifacts spilled before them.

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astraladvent · 4 years

Text

Prism: So far...

((A lengthly excerpt from the Prism Arc catch-up event!))

Berrod Armstrong looked around the room. "Ah, this is a good turnout. Thanks for comin'. There's -- a lot to go through, so I'll begin at the beginnin' and we'll work through it from there. Feel free to add any details you noticed or ask relevant questions as I go on. Won't spend too long answerin' questions before I'm done though."

Berrod Armstrong: "Some time ago, durin' a social gatherin' in Costa Del Sol, it so happened that we came into contact with a queer manner o'crystal. There was a fireworks show on, an' it seemed that the crystal fell outta the sky, skipped on the water an' hit a cliff wall near us. The spot on the cliff wall that it hit got streaked white an' chalky. The crystal itself was...strange. Colourful, bright an' packed with aether. Goin' near it or touchin' it was enough to wash a man in the stuff."

Berrod Armstrong: "Didn't take long for us to realise how much it enhanced not only our reserves of aether, but the things we could do with it. The white stuff on the cliff wall on the other hand, killed everything it touched. Stilled the aether in it until it ended up just as white an' dead as the rocks. Fortunately, it was contained to those streaks."

Louma'li Jinjahl looked sheepish. "Also brought out a few...undesirable qualities in a few."

Milo North: "Ick."

Berrod Armstrong eyed Lou for a moment and inclined his head slightly.

Louma'li Jinjahl: "You're really lucky ya didn't end up lickin' it."

Berrod Armstrong: "At -first-, we decided to let the La Noscean an' Lominsan authorities handle it. We arranged for the crystal -- the Prism, we called it, to be collected by the Yellowjackets an' taken back to the city proper for the Arcanist's guild to keep in their custody." He rubbed his face then, "Really wished it all stayed there, but the Gods had different plans it seemed. They cordoned off the streaked area, but a couple of our people got samples of the dead white rocks. They were harmless if you didn't let it touch flesh."

N'hara Tia: "Also got samples of some of the sea creatures it killed. Not the prettiest sight."

Orion Llewelyn stroked the lizard in his lap, attempting to lull the creature to sleep. It was having none of it with all the people around and hissed.

Soyer Perera entered and remained silent. No greeting and not motions beyond walking and picking a spot.

Berrod Armstrong made a face at the mention of the dead sea creatures, but nodded to acknowledge it. "Least chalky fish don't stink..."

Berrod Armstrong: "Anyroad, a couple weeks later the Arcanist's guild called us up for our help with a matter involvin' the crystal. Apparently since we were the once who had 'experience'--" He made quotation marks with his fingers then, "--with it, we were the ones they wanted. Turned out they tried to cast some standard protective stuff around it for safe keepin', but the crystals amplified the magic to the point that it got a bit -too- well shielded. We were hired to work with a fella named Hartsald to break that shield. From the reports it seemed like one hell of a job, but nothin' catastrophic, an' nothin' the team that went couldn't handle."

Berrod Armstrong turned to offer a tip of his chin to Soyer by way of greeting.

Soyer Perera nodded but made no sound.

Berrod Armstrong: "We used the success of that job to curry some favour with the Arcanist's guild, to the point where we managed to get a sample of the crystal for the company for our own to study. Unfortunately, a couple weeks after -that-, we got another missive from the guild. Hartsald had gone missin', an' from the investigation we launched into it, he'd gone barkin' mad before he vanished. He'd been drawin' nonsense on maps, rippin' up books, writin' over an' over again about somethin' called -blàths bloigh-. No language I'd ever heard of. With the help of those of us gifted in understandin' such things, we learned that it means 'blooming essence'. An' so the hunt for Hartsald began."

Natja Bafsk breezes on in like she was here all along, peering around and filing her nails into even pointier points.

N'hara Tia brought a hand to the bridge of his nose. Not a fun assignment…

Milo North: "Baths Bentlow, yeah."

Milo North: "... Blowfly."

Milo North: "... Blarfs."

Orion Llewelyn: "Spoilers: He was found."

Natja Bafsk nods her head agreeably at Milo's valiant effort, knowing damn well she can't do anything better.

Berrod Armstrong: "The hunt led us to the Blac--" He quickly and apologetically eyed Jancis in the distance, "Uh, the Twelveswood, where the search team encountered all sorts of mischievous magics. Weird plants, floaty-stuff. The reports were...wild. Even though that was dealt with, apparently the team came into contact with an anomaly that caused the same whitenin' effect from the cliffs in Costa. I still...don't really understand what I read about what the team there saw, but everyone came outta it okay."

Berrod Armstrong: "Mostly, anyroad."

Louma'li Jinjahl: "And one overly animated annoyin' blue...person."

Berrod Armstrong: "Ah, aye. Jock whatsisballs."

Louma'li Jinjahl couldn't remmeber how many Jock-Jocks it was.

Zachary Evans mouthed the phrase 'blue person' in absolute confusion.

Louma'li Jinjahl: "Jock-Jock somethin' Jock, covered in woad an' crazy, aye."

Milo North: "Somethin' made outta Light."

Bayan Dataq cracked a small smile. This was getting good. Now there were blue people. He wondered what strange Eorzean people that was.

Milo North shivers at the memory.

Berrod Armstrong: "He'd been hired to find Hartsald too -- an' now we know by who. But I'll get to that in time."

Louma'li Jinjahl had a sneaking suspicion of the 'who' but he'd be happy if fate decided to surprise him. Lou just nodded along with Berrod's assertion that they'd get to it, in time.

Berrod Armstrong: "Arcanist's guild hadn't made any headway either, an' so as more time went on, the more everyone feared Hartsald was dead. You know how it goes with missin' persons. Anyroad, -another- issue popped up in Mor Dhona that we went to investigate. After what happened in the Shr...er -- -Twelveswood-, we were expectin' to find Hartsald. Instead, we found a Hyuran fella with an axe an' way, -way- too much power. The team went in, accompanied by one Grave Shadow as an observer, the reports said. The Hyur -- Breaker, or Baby or whatever -- was subdued an' separated from a prismatic crystal that he'd been given with the promise of power. It was there that the monk twin ladies some of y'all came to know were sighted for the first time."

Orion Llewelyn leaned over to Bayan with a hushed voice, "That's where I came in." A thumb was jerked in Berrod's general direction.

Bayan Dataq nodded. The cast of characters was getting a bit much for him to keep track of, but he was doing his best.

Jancis Milburga looks thoughtful, "And that odd sludge that came off of him."

Soyer Perera || It occured to Soyer that it was around this time he had joined the Company too...He had a faint smile at the thought.

Berrod Armstrong: "Breaker was pretty badly affected by what had happened to him. He wasn't an enemy, not really. Just someone who'd gotten a raw deal. We took care of his recovery an' such,an' in doing so, found out he had a connection to those twins...like -- a thread. Oh--" He consulted his book then, "I shouldn't forget the group out in the ruins of Nym either. After the Hartsald incident, we went to investigate some aetherial spikes there an' did battle with an entire group enhanced with shards of prismatic crystal. It wasn't enough to make 'em -crazy- powerful, so they got taken down smoothly enough. One of 'em was above the rest though...Astrologian gal with a -weapon- made with one of the crystals in it. Our first encounter with a prismatic weapon."

Milo North: "Someone had fun lickin' crystals."

Zachary Evans shifted from foot to foot before finally deciding on doing squats. The whole chain of events had given the young man a surge of nervous energy.

Louma'li Jinjahl: "An' she up an' ran before we could finish kickin' her arse. Seems Shadow got to her though an' finished things."

Natja Bafsk 's expression slowly takes a turn for the morose, more and more.

Bayan Dataq 's face gave away he didn't really approve of leaving a mark alive in a hunt, but didn't say anything.

Zachary Evans: "I'm not exactly sure of -how- comfortable I am working with Shadow again...wherever the Shadows are, things go from worse to catastrophic."

Sarij Rahzersyn: "Alright, focus folks."

Zachary Evans: "Sorry, chief."

Sarij Rahzersyn: "And listen tah what Berrod has tah say, ya can ask shite after."

Natja Bafsk nods to Sarij Rahzersyn.

Berrod Armstrong: "It turns out that the Astrologian gal didn't quite get away -- so proven by a box sent to us by a -mysterious benefactor- at the time. It contained the prismatic weapon...broken, though that didn't make the crystal itself any less potent. The box itself was made with...arcane stuff written on it that turned it into a kind of compass that pointed us north, to Coerthas. Again, we decided to investigate, an' the team sent met -- another arcanist? Nah -- a uh, a--" He checked his notes, "Nymian-styled Scholar. He didn't quite have a prismatic weapon, but his -faerie- was made of the stuff. From what I read, his spellwork was...damn powerful."

Tiergan Vashir blinked at that. "His /faerie/ was made of /crystal/?"

Berrod Armstrong: "Aye. Bright an' colourful an' glitterin'...an' -potent-."

Autgar Bloode: "Yes, his fairy was a crystal. He was very strong."

Orion Llewelyn looked away to take a swig of his drink.

Tiergan Vashir frowns deeply, brow furrowing.

Berrod Armstrong: "Was around that time that our study into the crystal itself showed us some of what it was capable of. Like allowin' me to conjure as if it was nothin', for example. Healed a gash on my own arm with a twig an' it didn't even leave a scar." He offered his arm as proof.

Berrod Armstrong: "I should note that the crystal samples in our possession went up to two. The weapon, an' the sample we got from the Arcanist's guild."

Jancis Milburga furrows her brow at Berrod's arm.

Tiergan Vashir: "Did.... you have much conjurying ability before or did you go from none to suddenly proficient?"

Berrod Armstrong: "I tried to learn once. They were nice about tellin' me I would never be able to do it."

Aulen Mistbreaker was totally not taking a nap or anything as he showed up late.

Berrod Armstrong: "I don't have a lick of castin' talent, sad to say."

Orion Llewelyn: "Shame, that."

Louma'li Jinjahl: "Ya punch things better anyways."

Zachary Evans: "That's...disturbing. Granting that much power out of the blue is dangerous."

Autgar Bloode: "You've got plenty of other talents chief."

Tiergan Vashir: "So these crystals can turn anyone into a skilled mage."

Berrod Armstrong: "Nnnh -- well, I knew the -motions-, I just never made anythin' happen, you know? But that crystal changed that."

Milo North: "Or jus' let you throw enough power at a spell."

Orion Llewelyn: "An' those of us already skilled t'start with, well..." Orion leaned back.

Milo North: "That it makes it look like you can do it."

Soyer Perera frowned at that--he hadn't been told they could do that too.

Berrod Armstrong: "Go on," He urged Orion.

Milo North: "Scarier thought is what happens when someone like fuckin' black mage casts one of their clever lil' spells with the power of one of these."

Natja Bafsk nods to Milo North.

Orion Llewelyn: "Huh?" He sputtered. "Oh I've got nothin'. Just sayin' I can imagine how it'd be like for those of us with a lick o' talent an' skill."

Milo North: "Power and the nuance to properly use it."

Berrod Armstrong nodded, "Aye."

Tiergan Vashir: "Is that why Mountain's Shadow has an interest then?"

Martin Adler: "Probably." Martin grunts.

Autgar Bloode: "Save the questions folks."

Aulen Mistbreaker spoke up. "Well... back on the beach. A simple spell I used turned a small flame into a massive pyre by just being near the damn thing."

Berrod Armstrong: "Aye..."

Berrod Armstrong: "Alright -- back to Breaker an' his ability to trace the twins...much like the box had become a compass that led us north, he led a team of us south into the Sagolii to follow the twins' trail. From what I read, the trip was an interestin' one. They utilised their crystals to their full potential and put up a hell of a fight. It was hard, but our team won out with Breaker's help. Poor bastard ended up abed again, an' we took the twins into our custody. Treated them well, mind you."

Natja Bafsk smiles, but with a notable twinge of sadness.

Jancis Milburga: "Had to, those crystals were embedded."

Berrod Armstrong: "That fight was an' educational one, 'cause we learned about the flawed crystals. Turns out that they were not only different to the samples we had, but they had awful effects on the user. Uh --" He consulted his book again, and began to read directly off of it.

Orion Llewelyn: "They amplified the user's flaws."

Milo North: "They got real ugly?"

Berrod Armstrong: "Our samples achieved perfect resonance with the user's aether. Perfect prisms. The flawed crystals however, sought to compensate for their imperfection by resonating oppressively and affecting the user's aether in a detrimental manner -- usually to the tune of illness or behavioural changes."

Berrod Armstrong: "Aye, what Orion said."

Louma'li Jinjahl: "Not ugly enough to not fluster Autgar."

Autgar Bloode would remember that.

Orion Llewelyn snorted, "Not that kinda flaw. Made angry people angrier an' that kinda thing."

Bayan Dataq: "Weaknesses?" he asked softly.

Berrod Armstrong: "After some questionin' -- gentle, mind you, we never treated 'em badly," We learned that -Hartsald- was apparently creating the flawed crystals and temptin' people to power with 'em. First the twins, then he tried to get 'em to bring Breaker on board. S'what was happenin' when we met the lot of 'em in Mor Dhona. What was most interestin' is that they said that we couldn't just go -find- Hartsald. He had to be -summoned-. The ritual to do it was queer as all hells."

Tiergan Vashir: "Summon. Like some sort of voidsent?" There was audible distaste in his tone.

Milo North: "You can summon other stuff, too. Kinda."

Berrod Armstrong: "I would think that if the ritual wasn't...downright stupid."

Orion Llewelyn wavered a hand before Bayan at his question. "Sorta like that."

Berrod Armstrong: "Once again a team went out -- to the Cloud Sea up above the Spine. Aether's rich there an' it was far away from people just in case things got hairy...which they did. Still don't really understand what happened, but they called him. He was strange, with bright blue eyes with rings in 'em," He gestured at his own eyes, ever one to talk with his hands, "Talkin' funny too, not nearly the same as he was before. Borin' an' kinda stodgy."

Bayan Dataq perked up a bit. Sounded like the red haired hyur was describing him. Badly, but still.

Berrod Armstrong: "Seems like he tried somethin', but the team figured it out and put a stop to it before he finished. Unfortunately, one of the twins got turned into a plant -- or was it eaten by a plant...?" He checked his notes again, "Ah, she got turned into a bush. When they finally managed to put Hartsald down, a big ol' pair of flowers grew. One spat out the twin, the other...Hartsald's body. The -real- Hartsald. Poor bastard had been dead all along, an' somethin' was wearin' his face. Accordin' to what I read, he'd been killed long before, even though he wasn't rottin'."

Milo North: "So.... Voidsent."

Soyer Perera frowned a bit deeper. If he were the type to be ungrammatical, he'd say this entire thing was getting curiouser and curiouser.

Jancis Milburga swears to Nald'thal quietly.

Soyer Perera: "That doesn't sound like a voidsent."

Berrod Armstrong shook his head. "Would be simple if it was. Read more like a ghost to me."

Orion Llewelyn: "Aye, I'm inclined to agree with Berrod."

Bayan Dataq shook his horned head. This is why he preferred sheep and horses. Less magic and spirits. More things that were simple to skewer with his lance.

N'hara Tia: "This whole fiasco gets worse and worse when you really stop and think about it..."

Orion Llewelyn: "Like....another soul." He offered up.

Tiergan Vashir: "A ghost that turns people into plants and grows flowers that hold bodies?"

Milo North: "A ghost who makes people inta plants? Ashkin ain't that powerful. Or smart."

Milo North: "Mosta the time they jus' moan about how much it hurts or whatever."

Berrod Armstrong: "Team came back, though the affected twin hadn't regained consciousness. Reks examined her, an' it turned out there -- wasn't a soul in her body. I dunno how that was possible, or how it worked, but that's what happened. We decided to keep her safe, an' her sister didn't leave her side. Breaker was fully recovered an' decided to go out there an' try to make some headway."

Berrod Armstrong: "Took a couple weeks, but he came back...different. He'd acquired a bit of prismatic crystal, which somehow -fused- with him while he slept. It...made him strong. Real strong. I dunno if he's immortal now, but I know it's real hard to hurt him. Or was. We had to press him for answers, but even when he finally caved an' tried to give 'em to us, he couldn't speak of it, or even write of it. He'd been hexed, and pretty badly."

Berrod Armstrong: "The same night he came back to us, somethin' happened to the unconscious twin. Long story short, whatever had been masqueradin' around as Hartsald jumped into her, pulled a switch on us, an' ran off into the night. Was a damn mess, I'm told. Her sister an' Breaker went off to try an' find her."

Natja Bafsk stares down at her lap, ears drooping backward.

Berrod Armstrong: "'nother couple weeks went by. Breaker an' Rookmin -- ah aye, that was her name -- kept in contact, wrote to us an' stuff...an' then the contact stopped. Stopped for a worryin' while, with the last place they mentioned bein' Tailfeather up in the Dravanian lands. Of course, we sent a team up to find 'em..." He rubbed the back of his head then, "An' what a time that was."

Berrod Armstrong: "There were so many things -- a cave full o'gold dust. Talkin' to dragons...followin' the trail on a whole. The trail led to a white, magical coffin' with the words 'Let sleeping beasts lie' on it. Anybody who tried to tamper with the coffin got...frozen? Stilled -- though it came at a cost to the coffin's aether. With enough people triggerin' it, it eventually ran out, an' broke open."

Milo North: "W..."

Orion Llewelyn: "Nothin' like brute forcin' some magic."

Milo North places his face into his hands, "You opened the magic box sayin' please dun open."

Jancis Milburga: "And good we did." Her tone is sadder after the mention of gold dust.

Tiergan Vashir visibly tenses up at this portion of the tale, shoulders locking. He glances back towards Jancis once before his jaw sets and he looks to Berrod again.

Louma'li Jinjahl: "To be fair, at least we did it an' didn't die. Can't say if someone else woulda lived if they did the same."

Berrod Armstrong rubbed at his face with one hand. "I'm glad I can just give the facts here now, because at the time it was confusin' as all hells. Breaker, as it turned out, had been jumped into by the Hartsald-wearer. It was a bad combination, because Breaker himself was fused with a prismatic crystal an' powerful as all hells. Not only that, but in tryin' to resist the thing tryin' to ride him, he unleashed -- well, a beast, is the best way to put it. Y'all would be interested to know that one Mountain Shadow showed up, yellin' at the team for openin' the coffin. He looked pretty chewed up. Even lost consciousness, I think."

Cerina Borlaaq gave a very audible grunt of pure /disgust/ at the mention of Mountain, however, she didn't say anything about it.

Orion Llewelyn finished off what remained of his drink.

Berrod Armstrong: "We know now that Rookmin and Breaker had found the other twin -- Sumintra, which is when the...thing...jumped from her to him. Apparently Mountain was on their trail an' used that coffin thing to subdue the thing -- which we opened. Ah well. Anyroad...there was a fight. Details...don't matter. There was a fight that we won. Autgar managed to kill the thing...for good. Breaker was safe, though the twins were missin' still. Both of 'em this time."

Jancis Milburga glances back at Martin briefly before gazing at Tiergan for awhile, silently echoing Berrod's words.

Milo North: "Course he put a cryptic phrase on the fuckin box instead of, I dunno, -something explainin' exactly what was inside-."

Berrod Armstrong: "Mountain got extracted from the area an' we dealt with the fallout as we always do. Got some blessed quiet for a while after that. We needed it."

Louma'li Jinjahl: "An' he wrote it in ways that only people versed in an arcane science could understand. Coulda gotten better results with a slab o' wood an' some paint."

Orion Llewelyn: "That's got me wonderin' though. It /was/ quiet for a good bit. Us meetin' here though..."

Orion Llewelyn: "does that mean somethin's happened?"

Berrod Armstrong: "Quiet couldn't last, I suppose, 'cause who else came marchin' up to our gates a few weeks later but Mountain himself, with the balls to ask us to -leave it all to him-. Didn't need to consult leadership to outright refuse that, no matter how much I'd like to wash my hands o'this stuff." He smiled at Orion then, "I'll get to that in a lil bit."

Milo North: "Really. Is "There is an awful monster in here, this box is keeping it from killing you. No touch.' So hard? Fuckin' Mountain."

Orion Llewelyn: "Wait, he came /here?/ What'd he want?"

Orion Llewelyn: "Oh well, I guess you just said that." he leaned back again, slightly less agitated.

Sarij Rahzersyn: "To be fair... even if he wrote that people would have opened it."

Berrod Armstrong: "Aye. We said no an'...he was uh, awfully gracious an' decided that in the event of our refusal, -he- would leave it entirely to -us- instead. Apparently it'd be one or the other, so long as it meant we no longer clashed. So he officially withdrew from the matter, an' shared with us some information, includin' the whereabouts of some missin' people. The scholar, the twins, an' the Astrologian."

Mholi'to Valrei offered the room a brief wave as he walked over to an open spot to stand. He was quiet for now as to catch up on the current conversation.

Berrod Armstrong: "Apparently he'd convinced them all to withdraw from the whole ordeal, an' has managed to keep 'em safe in his own way." There was an unconvinced shrug from him, but he went on, "He also handed over his prismatic crystal -- the Scholar's faerie. We have three samples now."

Cerina Borlaaq: "So it is only a matter of time before he tries to swoop in again." She huffed. "We should have just cut him down when he showed up at our doorstep."

Orion Llewelyn: "He gave ya his faerie...?" Orion bunched up his brow.

Berrod Armstrong: "Hmn. Oh -- aye, though it turned back into a chunk o'pretty crystal when it left his side."

Orion Llewelyn ran a hand along his jaw, pensively, saying nothing further.

Sarij Rahzersyn: "Kindly keep murder plans to yerself. Mountain is a company owner of a known company and on the level in the terms of the governing bodies."

Sarij Rahzersyn: "I don't feel like going infront of a judge again."

Milo North: "I ain't sayin' anything about killin'. I'm thinkin' it real loudly though."

Cerina Borlaaq: "I did not ask for your assistance, Sarij. But do not make this company bend to him again."

Berrod Armstrong: "Speakin' of which, couple folks from here parleyed with 'im an' made some requests, one o'which he granted." Very carefully did he pull an envelope from between the pages of the book he'd been reading his notes from. The envelope was handed across to Autgar, though in stretching to do so, Berrod held it dangerously close to the candle's flame. "Ah -- shite, whoops. There y'go."

Bayan Dataq was starting to wonder why everyone was talking about some mountain. And why everyone hated a geographical feature.

Natja Bafsk peers over at the envelope questioningly.

Autgar Bloode plucked up the letter and held it infront of him on the table without a word.

Dylan Skye: "...What is that, Autgar?"

Orion Llewelyn leaned back forward, eyes shifting toward the envelope as well and then to Autgar.

Orion Llewelyn: "Aye, what he said."

Mholi'to Valrei took a few steps closer to Autgar to peek over the man's large shoulders out of curiosity.

Sarij Rahzersyn: "I am saying.... stay the hells away from 'em and not deal wtih em, so if as ya think he tries tah get his fingers involved wit us... we got solid feet undah us rather than having the Immortal Flames kicking in the door again to arrest folks."

Autgar Bloode elbowed Oli. "We can talk about it when were all caught up."

Bayan Dataq 's eyes shot open, and then he looked to Orion for clarification. “What kind of company was this anyroad?"

Mholi'to Valrei frowned as he was lightly jabbed. "Fine, fine," he grumbled. His curiosity still burned bright, but his eyes were forced back towards Sarij. "Honestly, the best thing to do in my opinion would be whatever the hells we intended to do before he showed up. Regardless of what he's offerin'. He smells like trouble."

Louma'li Jinjahl looked on skeptically as this was unfolding. He didn't have history with Shadow, but at this rate, he was hating him just out of spite.

Cerina Borlaaq: "That has certainly worked for us in the past when it comes to dealing with him, yes? Because he has not managed to weasel himself into the company, and out of what ever--" she waved her hand in front of her in frustration, "solid ground you are talking about. Figured you would know that better than anyone else."

Sarij Rahzersyn: "This company is not a wetworks." Sarij replied simply. "Berrod feel free tah continue."

Cerina Borlaaq scoffed loudly, but decided not to press on.

Autgar Bloode was scanning over the letter before he returned it to the envelope and rested it on the table infront of him.

Berrod Armstrong nodded at Autgar, then at Sarij. "I agree that we have to be careful. He's got a legitimate thing going an' -if- he means us ill, which I'll never rule out, he's gonna get us tangled up in a lotta legal shite before the final blow. Either way -- if he says he's out, I agree with Oli there...we press on like he's not around. Granted...it might mean followin' some of his...advice."

Soyer Perera: "And what's wrong with that?"

Jancis Milburga nods in agreement. "Coincidence."

Berrod Armstrong: "Or rather, followin' his methods. He said that he wanted to dissipate the crystals by givin' their aether to the land -- it's why Breaker was put in that coffin, to drain him of the prismatic aether he'd been fused with -- and contain that thing inside him too."

Soyer Perera: "Provided it doesn't harm anyone or the land itself--we have enough mages here to confirm if the method would actually put it back into the land, right?"

Mholi'to Valrei: "Then make sure that information is verified independently somewhere else. Facts are facts, regardless of who's sayin' it. Are you sure that it's the best method, all things considered?"

Berrod Armstrong: "So we have three samples. I want us to begin lookin' into ways to gettin' these crystals smelted down into the land, for lack of a better term. Once we find a way to do it safely, that's how we'll handle any o' the prisms we come into contact with goin' forward."

Berrod Armstrong: "Aye, those things are a menace in man's hands."

Mholi'to Valrei nodded back. "A broken clock's right twice a day."

#FFXIV #Crystal #Balmung #Astral Advent #Astral Agent #Prism #Story Arc #RP Event #Catch up Post

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