aimspirente - Tumblr blog

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its been a while! im not dead im just too busy to draw as much as i did  😭

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me, a dumbass, every time i replay poe

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”I know that look”. He draws up beside you with a found smile, close enough to brush you knuckles with his. Oh! I love Aloth so much!

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Tekehu: Ha, not all of those go around my neck!

Aloth:

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People spun stories wherever Defiance made port. It was bound to happen, she supposed. Tales of their exploits echoed ever louder here in the Deadfire. People here were desperate for heroes.

The Watcher was no hero. Heroism implies choice, implies bravery. The Watcher was compelled to set foot on this journey. The Watcher was compelled to stare down nightmares, but she didn't do any of it out of heroism. There simply wasn't much left for her to lose.

She'd lost everything, many times over. Her shop, back in the Living Lands, turned over and shattered and ransacked, her wares scattered through the street. Friends from the lawless Dyrwood. Caed Nua, the first place she'd dared to call home in many years. The keep she had resurrected from the crumbling wreck Maerwald had left behind. She'd poured her money and time and sweat into rebuilding that withering ruin, only to have it torn to pieces by the dormant adra giant that lurked beneath.

All she had left was this shoddy boat. Everything else was lost to the rubble, even her life--Berath's interference notwithstanding. She hears irregular bouts of laughter bubble up from the floorboards beneath her feet, slurred with cheap ale. They must be throwing knives again.

The deck creaked as it limped across the main toward Neketaka, not half as grand as the grog-soaked shanties made it seem. She sighed as she felt the deck sway with the swells of the sea. This life...for all of its grandeur, it was lonely. There was no final destination, no home port, she and hers simply drifted along as circumstance pushed them.

To make things worse, she'd caught herself pining again. Stealing glances at Corfiser when he wasn't looking. It made her heart hurt more to do it, but she couldn't help but wonder if he would see her if she didn't have these damned horns. What he would think of her if her skin weren't mapped with vines and roots. Would she be enough of a woman to him then? Worth wanting? If she could shed her monster's skin, would he come to value her as much as he did their friendship?

The rumors made it seem like she carried blessings. That the cobblestone beneath her feet turned to gold wherever she went. But in truth, she'd merely made an art out of swallowing sorrows and doling out the kindnesses that she could. She gave out her heart and kept none of it for herself. She felt cold and clear and empty.

She wondered how she came to lose the great stag that had slept in her flesh for as long as she could remember. How it had come to be replaced by the smell of rain and the howl of winds, her flesh wreathed in mist. Whether the storms were born to fill the silence within...

The crown of Neketaka appears on the horizon, distant, still... but forboding. It feels like there are marionette strings tugging their boat ever closer. Every power on that island has designs on them. She hopes she can do right by as many as she can.

She hopes she has more than loss to bring back with her.

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"Maybe she doesn't respond to 'Fiery Whore'"

FUCK YES, DRAG HIM, ALOTH!

I AM SCREAMING THIS IS WHY I LOVE YOU

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Kana's out here, straight up roasting Durance. My sweet aumaua cinnamon roll is spitting fire and it's the best thing

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kana every damn time u enter scouting mode: hewwo? hewwo????

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Tekehu: says anything

Aloth:

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"Do you ever get tired of smelling like rotted hagfish, Watcher? And here I'd thought you were supposed to be merciful," a gravelly voice groused loudly from the Watcher's pack.

Concelhaut's skull never shut up. It was a sharp reminder of why the Watcher had jammed that skull away the last time they'd cut him down. His mouth constantly spewed derisive, petulant garbage. The Watcher was normally a very temperate, not easily ruffled soul but the lich's crabby blathering challenged even the most stoic of souls.

They were hiking out to the shrine on the western edge of Neketaka, cutting through a grove of fruit trees. The sun blazed overhead and they had chosen to wait out the heat of the day and take a meal while the worst of the heat burned itself out. Despite being only a skull, Concelhaut spared no detail about how trying arduous and annoying everything was, including the heat. Aloth was begging the Watcher with his eyes to shut the stupid skull up.

The Watcher spots a juicy-looking koiki on the tree overhead, just out of reach. Edér offers to climb up or shake it down, but she stays his stride. She had a better idea.

"Edér, I'm concerned our dear old friend may be bored. Let's give him the task of knocking down that fruit. Here," she says plucking the complaining skull from her pack and passing it to Edér. "Make sure to give it a good whack. So he knows how much we appreciate his contributions to our group."

"Unhand me, you dimwitted oaf! I am not a toy," he snarls.

Edér rolls the misshapen skull in his hand with a smile as he aims it and lets it loose, the skull snarling invectives the whole way. Wind currents sweep the floating skull back over to the watcher again.

It is the first laugh they have had in a while. It feels nice.

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Pallegina

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deadfire companion aesthetics

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pallegina, edér, and aloth in the pillars of eternity 2: deadfire art

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Malnaj stared them down from the rail of the ship, swaying with the motion of the swells. The orlan doffed her hat in greeting, though her eyes were flinty in the shadow beneath the brow. Her rough, tawny fur was crusted with sea salt.

"'Eard you was around here, Watcher. Interesting, seein's though I tracked that shit-swillin' traitor Remaro 'ere. You wouldn'ta lied to me, would ya lassie?"

The Watcher held her gaze as she felt the scurrying of men and the shifting of cannons underfoot. She hadn't written off the possibility of running across Malnaj again, though she hadn't expected for it to be so soon. And she was madder than a kicked hornet's nest, no less. But The Watcher had fought bigger, had killed nastier and was woven into the cloth of the gods. If she wants to fight, she will get the highlight of her life.

"I told you what I knew. Remaro's long gone. I would advise you to look somewhere else," the Watcher said, mustering a little iron in her voice. "We are due back in Neketaka. I would hate to be late."

Serafen stands at her side, his suppressed rage hovering over the ship like a noxious black cloud. His hate was palpable. She could understand why. Malnaj was the profoundly unpleasant sort.

"So sorry, lassie. 'Fraid you're gonna be a little late. On accounta bein' dead an all," she says, pulling out her pistol and squeezing off a quick shot that whistled by The Watcher's ear. The crews of both ships explode into action, crewmen swarming the decks to subdue the other party. The Watcher throws herself to cover, lining up Malnaj in the sight of her pistols.

Serafen moves like a man possessed, a furious blue blur weaving between bodies and his blunderbuss is pouring fire and lead. He wears a mask of blood spray as he cuts them down with his hatchet, his eyes a cold lance of hatred. He's gonna put a bullet between Malnaj's beady eyes. He deserves the kill and The Watcher lays down covering fire to give him his chance.

Eder hurls bodies into the paths of the enemy, his burly arms yanking them off their feet and slinging them into the path of the enemy. The confusions is tripping them up as they try to cross between decks and hop on the Defiance, but some miss their mark, slipping between the ships to be smashed between the hulls.

The air is rank with gunpowder and smoke and iron. Fireballs bound across the deck from Aloth's bespelled fingers, splashing onto the deck and slinging liquid fire on all beneath it. The screeching of the men was horrendous as they roasted alive.

Malnaj had scurried to hide behind a barrel, apparently shell-shocked by the ferocity of the Defiance's crew. She hadn't expected this. She was supposed to just walk in and win the day handily. Maybe fight a little, but lose? No, there's no way it could have been happening at all! Her powers abandoned her in her rising panic as she sees her crew cut down like wheat at harvest. Her attempts to weaponize her will failed in the face of her fear. She had taken a shot to the thigh in that storm of lead. There would be no more running.

A pair of bloody boots stomps into her listing field of view, shoddy leather that's seen months of wear at sea. The hot barrel of the blunderbuss kisses her forehead and she looks past the barrel to greet Serafen's fierce, unyielding eyes.

She expects a quip, but there is none. Only rage on his face and a murderous glint in his eyes.

A lance of brilliant pain shot clean through her head in a flash and it was gone. The world turns white and fades away like mist. Now it is only her in the swirling grey, lost and unsure of herself. Is this death?

She sees nothing else but the Watcher now; she glows.

She feels a pull in the fog and follows.

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The Watcher watches as Tekehu walks through his training forms on the deck of the Defiant, his movements smooth and controlled with a particular flair of showiness and grace that suited him well.

"Hmm. Perhaps I need to push more heavy weapons on you? You seem to have a natural grace for it. Have you trained with one much?"

"Ekera! Few things in life are as invigorating as mastering the heft of a mighty spear," he laughed, favoring the Watcher with a saucy wink. "I have spent a fair amount of time and sweat learning that grace. I'm glad it seems to have paid off!"

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Eder, impatiently shining and sparkling while Ixora's chatting with Aloth about serious business

"WATCHER, STOP TALKING TO YOUR BOYFRIEND AND LEVEL ME UP ALREADY"

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Tekehu, tugging his tentacles in public

I COMBUSTED