graftage

[graftage]

“Nice day, ain’t it?” He’s chewing on some kind of squash-like vegetable. It’s definitely very raw. (Why is he like this.)

[graftage]

benefacto‌:

Haven’t I always? It’s the easiest way to get what I want, in the fastest possible way. Are you volunteering?

I’d rather sooner be trampled by a stampede of wild cows than be your butler, thanks!

[graftage]

You’re paying people to be your butler, now?

$100 for the first one to deliver me chocolate hazelnut frozen yogurt. Optimal temperature, perfect condition, strawberries and brownie pieces on top.

[graftage]

Hey everyone! Thanks for the follows! If you want a starter, just send me a message! I’ll write you up something as soon as I can!

[graftage]

One man was so mad at me that he ended his letter: “Beware. You will never get out of this world alive.”

this is an indie RP blog for John Steinbeck of Bungou Stray Dogs fame! like/reblog/send in an ask if you’d like to RP with me!

[graftage]

extraplanaire:

Lovecraft already described what kind of people. They are troublesome ones. The specifics that this question is probably asking for shall have to wait until the ice cream is in his hands. This is a bribery, after all. All that is left is for John to complete the first portion of this deal.

There’s a shrug in response. Lovecraft doesn’t think it’s ability users that animals get mad at, he thinks it is things like himself. Some of the other god-spawn have similar issues. He wishes to say he’s used to it, but mostly he’s just afraid of dogs.

Same end result.

         “Why would I want to?”

Lovecraft reacts as if John had just asked him if he ever considered working for free. John, what are you thinking, the mere suggestion is disgusting.

         “They are horrid beasts who want me in multiple pieces.”

There isn’t much space for petting in between all of the attempts at biting. And the noise. Dogs are noisy and dumb and don’t like him. He’ll stick with cats, the only animal species that tolerates his presence. And, coincidentally, the best animal species.

Sorry, John.

“Horrid beasts?”

Steinbeck repeats the words incredulously, staring at Lovecraft with wide blue eyes like he’s just heard him sing the Happy Birthday backwards. (Which, honestly, isn’t something he would put past Lovecraft.)

“Are you sure we’re talkin’ about the same animal? Like, I get being afraid of big rottweilers and stuff, but like...what about beagles? Or terriers?”

He shakes his head. He’s always wanted a dog, as a kid. Dogs are dependable. Reliable. Friendly. Willing to give love even when others wouldn’t be so eager to do so.

“Have you at least tried to pet one? Like...once in your life?”

[graftage]

steinbeck: yeah he’s my bf steinbeck: my big fishman

[graftage]

johnathan. johnathy. johbert.

“Can you NOT.”

[graftage]

extraplanaire:

          “Troublesome people.”

The docks are getting messy in certain areas, along the edges. Potentially newsworthy, since it causes Lovecraft occasional trouble that might spread. (Lovecraft has found that it’s difficult for people to forget him, difficult for people to resist testing his vague ties to the Guild’s former power.)

          “Yes. I do.” Mostly he only wants ice cream, it just happens that the things he wants and offers can coincide. He’s glad John is willing, and that John is a human who is not prone to inexplicably being jumped by dogs.

          “No, they’re all like that. They know. But I am innocent.”

He doesn’t know what it is with dogs in particular that make them not only know, but also abhor what Lovecraft is, but most animals at least dislike him. Except cats, who know and (in a catlike way) completely fail to care. (He is very thankful that humanity has passed on from the age of horses, which was a very inconvenient age for someone cursed to be greatly disliked by animals.) He has done nothing to warrant being in trouble. He does not deserve this blockade between himself and chocolate ice cream.

“...What kinds of people?”

He knows he’s not going to get a reply to that question. Not until he gets the ice cream, anyways. He rolls his shoulders back, eyebrows furrowing at Lovecraft’s answer.

“Weird. They usually can’t sense anything off with me.” Once again, another clue that whatever Lovecraft has, whatever Lovecraft is, is something far beyond explanation. Ability users are mostly like everyone else, perfectly human, and Lovecraft...

He’s something.

To anyone else, it would be a question one would work hard to answer. Lovecraft is a mystery, from the top of his head to his worn shoes, but Steinbeck, while curious, seems fine with letting the mystery remain a mystery. Animals hate him. He doesn’t act like regular people do. His ability is too extravagant, too powerful compared to abilities he’s seen from others.

But Steinbeck doesn’t care. Lovecraft is Lovecraft. That’s all he needs to know.

A question does occur to him, and he turns to Lovecraft, his tone almost one of pity.

“...So, wait, does that mean you’ve never pet a dog before? Aw, you’re missing out...”

[graftage]

extraplanaire:

“Потому что я думаю что мы будем закончить работу быстро. A потом, я забыл.” Конечно, он забыл; Лавкрафт был занятый и иногда, мертвый. Это простительно.

“Не волнуй, они пожалуй не стал– мн, все равно. Этим вещам не нужна еда. Так, где машина?” Это не помогает ему с Джоном, может быт. Но, всё будут хорошо… если Лавкрафт может найти, что он потерял.

“Что?!” Рот Стейнбека падает. “Что ты имеете в виду, этим вещам не нужна еда? Они живы? Tы привезли животных в Росинанте?” Он в шоке. Он не видел ничего необычного. Лавкрафт не сказал ни слова. “Чёрт побери!  Лавкрафт, почему ты мне не сказал?!”

[graftage]

extraplanaire:

          “Ааах, конечно… жал. Но, у тебя Росинанте есть, да?” Лавкрафт (немного) волнуется (он всегда волнуется о чем-то), но он думал о  этой машине. Она орошая (и легчая) место, в которой спать.           “Важные вещи был вот там.”

“Важные вещи...?

Стейнбек наклоняет голову. 

“Какие важные вещи? Да, конечно, у меня есть Росинанте. Она в надежном месте. Лавкрафт, ты что-то оставил там? Почему ты не взял их , когда мы оставили её?”

[graftage]

"Нет, нет..."

Стейнбек вздыхает.

“К сожалению ... У меня не было времени, она по-прежнему должна быть исправлена. . О, моя бедная Росинанте ... надеюсь что я исправлю её, когда закончу работу в Иокогаме.” 

@graftage // practice w me PUNK у меня есть эхамен зафтра.

“Джон, ты починил Росинанте? Тебе нравится она, и я не увидел её на улице где мы устроили аварию.”

[graftage]

“What things?”

It’s not often when Lovecraft speaks up about something - Steinbeck is usually the talker, the one who manages to draw out information that Lovecraft may or may not be willing to supply. He turns his attention completely to the other man as he feels the finger press into his shoulder, perking up his ears.

Well...that’s a request.

“You want ice cream. For the news.” He quirks an eyebrow. He refrains from the urge in making a joke like, “oh, so you want to make it sweeter, huh” or something like that, choosing instead to stare at the terrible monster that Lovecraft is too afraid to come near. Nothing too bothersome. It’s just a dog. A mean-looking dog, but still a dog. He’ll brave the terrible danger of maneuvering around a dog for Lovecraft’s sake. It’s hardly the first time he’s bought ice cream for the man, anyways - he’s honestly lost count.

“It looks like it wants to tear your throat out,” remarks Steinbeck, twisting his head back to meet Lovecraft’s eye. “...What did you do? Show off your ability or something?”

@graftage // starter call

           “Things have been amiss lately….” He should probably update John about the ‘things’, since it may come in to play with him. But Lovecraft has priorities. A bony finger pokes John in the shoulder, then points at a small stand a few yards away.           “John, buy me ice cream for the news.”

He’d buy it himself, but there is a large dog sitting next to the stand that is giving him a look clearly stating that if he gets within range, this dog will go out of its way to remove as many limbs as possible from his body. (Lovecraft thinks this is entirely unfair, as he’s been very careful to give this dog a wide berth and stay downwind of it.)

Good thing he has John he can try and bribe into braving the horrible dangers of dogs for him.

[graftage]

im basically constantly stressing out about how capitalism, if not quickly overthrown, poses an extinction level risk to humanity

[graftage]

‘ a sacrifice is required. ’

“That so?”

It’s cold. Steinbeck pulls his long black coat tighter around himself, his eyes narrowing in thought. The sky is gray, almost abnormally so, and the dock they’re standing on groans with the movement of the waves underneath it.

The dark figure in front of him, his partner, the force in the shape of a man who he just summoned only minutes ago, is asking him for a sacrifice in return for what he’s done.

Steinbeck almost wants to laugh. He doesn’t. There are dark circles under his eyes, though they’re not dark enough to match the ones Lovecraft has. It’s taken a long, long while to do something like this. To scour through as much as he can, piece together hastily written or poorly translated clues, dig through secrets and rumors of the locations of things that should be best left untouched.

And yet, Steinbeck is here now, since he’s never been the best at heeding warnings, anyways. He half expected Lovecraft would just come of his own accord. But no. For everything, even this unspoken bond between them, there is a price.

His throat feels dry, even as the sea spray soaks his coat and pants. He just spends a brief moment to admire Lovecraft in all his dark, exhausted, glory. Part of him feels bad for dragging Lovecraft out of his eternal sleep. But part of him doesn’t regret a thing.

He steps forward, a gloved hand reaching out to that worn-out tie, covered with eyes that seem to stare into him, silently reproach him for what he’s done. He grasps it, pulls himself in.

(Ah, but he’s sinned thus far. What does it matter if he sells his soul to forces beyond his understanding?)

“But you already know what you can take from me,” he finally says, voice almost cracking, quiet against the sound of the turbulent ocean around them. “Do you really need to state the obvious?”

He swallows, leaning his forehead against the other’s chest with a sigh. This isn’t just some tender rendezvous. He needs Lovecraft. He will not survive the oncoming war without him by his side.That’s what he tells himself, anyways. (It’s highly likely he won’t survive at all, and Lovecraft will merely be the only witness to his inevitable, gruesome death).

His breath trembles, but whether it’s from the biting cold air or the anxiety of an uncertain future, it’s hard to say. Steinbeck murmurs, closing his eyes just to capture this moment, this one moment, before everything descends back into the chaos he’s found himself in.

“...You know that I’m yours.”

[graftage]

destiny item & quest description sentence meme

feel free to change pronouns & etc as necessary!

’ you did not receive the bond so you could babble arcane words. go forth, and burn our enemy. ’

‘ i think she’s hungry ’

’ you stand for something immutable and transcendent. act like it. ’

‘ the vault whispers of a world beyond. ’

‘ beware of false prophets. ’

‘ i count myself a king of infinite space. ’

‘ imagine the crowds. then block them out. ’

‘ nobody comes back the same. ’

‘ in vacuum, fire flows like water. ’

‘ be wary of what you find between the stars. demons have breached the gates where once only angels dared. ’

‘ join the eternal dance. ’

‘ all things converge. ’

‘ … til even the stars heed our calling. ’

‘ to each a purpose, and to all a fitting end. ’

‘ for this judgement, there is no protection. ’

‘ our enemies watch us huddle and just laugh. but it’s our show now. ’

‘ let no challenge lie. let no question hang. let no music fade. ’

‘ just… come on. just don’t. ’

‘ …a rattling shriek, the crunch of bones and the fading echoes of a brave woman’s last laugh… ’

‘ don’t include it unless you intend to use it. ’

‘ most helmets protect the mind from the universe. not this one. ’

‘ one throne beneath the howling dark. ’

‘ let this bone I reaped in battle give me strength to reap again. ’

‘ you have chosen to explore the depths of the darkness. you better be able to run. ’

‘ this helmet will keep you happy. why shouldn’t you be happy? ’

‘ how does it feel to land a six-meter jump in full armor? that depends who you’re landing on. ’

‘ are you afraid? listen closely: so are they. ’

‘ psychologically tuned to reinforce an important skill: holding down the trigger. ’

‘ swamp camouflage is the hottest fashion these days. ’

‘ feel the swamp. smell the swamp. be the swamp. ’

‘ learn the swamp’s secrets. keep the swamp’s secrets. lie awake at night, horrified by the swamp’s secrets. ’

‘ you can see everything. you can unsee nothing. ’

‘ of bladedancers seem a little unfair it’s because they are. no room for honor in a fight. ’

‘ your job on the fireteam is to answer the question ‘can we kill that thing?’ make sure the answer is always yes. ’

‘ don this monster’s face to hide the monsters lurking behind your own. ’

‘ he never sought glory or prizes. only peace. ’

‘ drive fast and take risks. ’

‘ feet alone cannot take us where we’re going. ’

‘ i face the challenges to come with dry eyes. there will be a time to mourn, but not until we have our vengeance. ’

‘ risk is it’s own reward. ’

‘ the last word. yours. not mine. ’

‘ everything is luminous. ’

‘ blot out the sun. ’

‘ they cast him out. but his words never left. ’

‘ for the more light the worms consume, the hungrier they become. ’

‘ YOU WILL DREAM OF TEETH AND NOTHING ELSE. ’

‘ i saw myself! slaying the darkness! that’s what i saw! ’

‘ the light shines the brightest in those it consumes. ’

‘ if you learn nothing else, learn this: when a hunter takes up the cloak of a dead comrade, this is a vow. ’

‘ the start is always the same. enter his court, and call him out. ’

‘ i will put an ocean into a thimble. i will build a world on the edge of a blade. ’

‘ a sacrifice is required. ’

‘ there was a moment where the hare chose not to defeat the tortoise. ’

‘ witness. ’

‘ are you the dream of a sleeping god? or the nightmare of a dead one? ’

[graftage]

Steinbeck for Robin (@takasukis)