hobbybound

[hobbybound]

Staircase, British Rail Depot, Paddington

1964-8

Bicknell & Hamilton

Image from RIBAPix

[hobbybound]

sorry for no art ever but i'm still on the animatic grind and this is where i've been the last month. riz gukgak violence enjoyers RISE

💥 youtube link

[hobbybound]

most of the time everything sucks but when the sky is blanketed in dark blue-grey clouds after heavy raining and the sun starts to peek through the clouds so that the tops of trees glint pale green and every white structure is starkly, blindingly silhouetted against the sky i’m ok.

[hobbybound]

In the Tinkerer's Office

Autor's note: this is mostly practice for character voice and dialogue, technically in the Whimsyf_ck setting but not really the type of thing that would become a real story from there so half-cannon.

Wordcount: ~300 words.

Moss rapped their knuckles against the door twice and waited.

"Just a second!" came a response from inside the office. Then there was a scraping (which they knew was the old chair being pulled out) and a faint sound of leather on fabric (meaning Spindle was wearing their apron) and the voice came again, "Welcome to my little workshop I'm spi–". They interrupted themselves as they came around the doorframe and saw Moss, "Welcome Moss, come inside" they continued after a soft exhale.

Moss followed them back into the workshop and sat on the padded stool on the opposite side of the desk to Spindle. Today they restrained themselves from asking about any of the new items lining the desk and the workbench behind Spindle. Instead they waited.

After a few seconds of silence Spindle spoke "glad to see you, anything I can help you with at all?".

Wincing internally at their casual address Moss placed a small wooden box with metal fittings on the desk, beside Spindle's presented hand, "this needs fixing, how much will it be, tinkerer?". They had managed to keep their voice stable, somehow.

Spindle blinked twice before picking the box up and bringing it up to their spectacled eye, turning it over as if to buy themselves a little time. "You needn't have waited for my opening hours Moss, I–".

Moss couldn't stand the familiarity of Spindle's ramblings so they cleared their throat, in response to which Spindle deflated and stopped talking.

"5 pieces will do, I'll have it done by tomorrow morning" Spindle said flatly. Moss nodded and rose from the stool, turning quickly and walking out of the office. Spindle sighed heavily as Moss passed the doorway but they kept walking.

[hobbybound]

Microstory

The demon looked around. There was a summoning sigil drawn in the ruddy sand, but nobody… It shifted its perception to the spiritual plane. Ah. A dust devil. “Why hast thou-” “A battery.” “A battery?” The demon looked around. “What need for a battery on Mars?” “For our friend.”

[hobbybound]

A figure on the road

Summary: two travelers are interrupted on their walk by a figure who means them no good.

tw: death, broken bones

Two travelers were walking along a road while the sun was setting in front of them. They were talking of small things and laughing merrily, distracted from their surroundings by their conversation. One wore a green hood and had a bow slung over their shoulder, the other wore a chestplate and had a shield over theirs.

Up ahead of the two a figure emerged from behind a tree, silhouetted by the setting sun. This figure had a long cloak pulled around itself, hiding the shape of its entire body. The cloaked figure spoke with a raspy voice, "Evening" it said flatly.

The two travelers looked between themselves, both unsettled. The hooded traveler unslung their bow.

"Best not, it will do you no well child" the figure spoke, as flat as before.

The hooded traveler – who was no youngster by any means – huffed, drew and arrow and nocked it before speaking "I wouldn't be so cocky if I were you". The other traveler shrugged the shield from their shoulder and unsheathed a sword.

The figure spoke again, "So be it", and began walking towards the two. The archer hesitated for a moment but feeling threatened they fired an arrow and it flew true at the figure, passing through its chest.

"Switching to ivory" the hooded traveler stated, growing steadily more worried. The other sheathed their sword and drew another weapon, wooden with wolves teeth embedded in it. The archer drew an ivory-tipped arrow and fired it at the figure.

It lunged to the side and the arrow flew past it. It was now near closing with the travelers. Once within a few meters it shrugged its cloak off. It wore black and an ebony top-half-face mask but wasn't wielding any weapon. Its eyes glowed orange.

The plated traveler stepped in front of the other, keeping their shield in front of them and swinging the fanged weapon towards the figure. It caught it and yanked it out of the travelers hand. As the figure threw the weapon aside the hooded traveler fired again, a mere meter from the figure but it ducked its head to the side.

The figure threw a punch at the plated traveler's shield who was horrified to feel the bones in their arm break. They had never before faced something with such power. While they were wincing back the figure reached around their shield and grabbed them by the throat. It then turned to the hooded traveler and swung their companion into them. The archer hit the ground, knocked off their feet by the strike and before they had time to react felt a strong hand around their neck.

The figure held the two in front of it and spoke "Make peace with your gods. Or do not".

Whatever that thing was it killed them and left their bodies on the road. Each was left with an assortment of broken bones but nothing stolen from them.

[hobbybound]

A fleeting meeting

Summary: A group of travelers meet a strange figure while resting on their way to wherever they are going.

It was within a clearing in the evergreen forest that five travelers were resting. They had come traveling along the road on a quest most important when they first spotted the clearing. They had then stopped there for a brief rest. One stood watch in plate, another plated traveler lay beside them, resting with their eyes closed. Also on the ground were the three others, one dressed in light leather was laying back, another in plain traveling clothes was idly whittling where they sat. The last was a traveler in flowy garb who wore a pointed hat. They spoke.

"How long have we been resting here now Boot-spur?" they asked the plated traveler who was standing watch. The one called Boot-spur turned towards the sun and became still, a long moment passed before they answered.

"By my judgement or the sun's, Sparkborn?" they responded at last, sounding unsure.

"So you see it too, my own judgement says nearly half an hour, the sun's says no time at all" the one who had been called Sparkborn said. They had a tone of worry in their voice which caused the others to stir.

A harsh wind whistled through the pine needles, then a bright giggling was heard, it was as if the first sound had morphed into the latter. "It usually takes people longer to notice, how are you enjoying the day, you of sharp wit?" a bright jovial voice spoke after another few moments of laughter.

"Quite well, and yourself?" answered Sparkborn, matching the voice's tone and pace of cheerful conversation. As they did their eyes scanned the trees for the speaker. They knew who –or rather what– they were dealing with and knew not to interrupt until their own question had been answered.

"Quite well myself, delighted to meet someone of manners" the answer came, laced with delight and a cunning understanding.

Sparkborn turned slightly to their companions and said under their breath "it is a dancer, be merry" before returning their sights to the trees.

It was motion that revealed the speaker to the group. A figure swung down from behind one branch onto another and landed in a deep bow. As their pale cloak and braided amber hair came to rest around them a wooden mask was visible, hiding the top half of their face. With a wide smile the dancer began walking out along the branch, arms confidently relaxed at their sides.

Sparkborn spoke again, "So am I, it is a lovely clearing that we have been allowed to rest in, dancer". They knew it was well-mannered not to let the conversation die before the dancer had turned to leave.

"So it is" the dancer responded simply. The branch upon which they were walking had then dipped low to be only just above head-height and the dancer came to a stop. "Yet the question blossomed in your mind, no?" they added before throwing themselves forward and summersaulting to the ground. They landed and spun to their feet smoothly.

"So it did, I am not so jaded as to not see a miracle when it is before me" Sparkborn responded, careful not to reveal that they had feared themselves to have been in a trap.

"So it may be, and it would be impolite of me to assume otherwise of course, mannered one" spoke the dancer as they tumbled gracefully around the group, hands and feet having equal time on the ground. "You are free to leave whenever you yourselves may wish, but no sooner. You can rest assured the world outside will not have ran away without you" the dancer added.

"So we shall kind dancer, have you anything exciting planned before the sun sets?" said Sparkborn, hoping the dancer was making its leave.

"So I do" the dancer said, they then stepped and motioned as if they were catching an invisible figure, span said figure in front of them and moved out of the clearing in a dance, following a rhythm none of the travelers could hear with someone they could not see.

A few moments passed after the point the dancer had passed out of sight before any of the travelers dared speak. It was the one dressed in leather who did so. "Do we leave now?" they said.

"No, that would be impolite. We keep resting for now, since we are in here already we may as well sleep, nothing will bother us" Sparkborn answered quickly, dropping the cheery tone and gesturing for boot-spur –who was still standing– to join the others sitting in a circle. "I gather you may not have met a dancer before, simply remain polite for now", after speaking they gave a gesture to be quiet and laid back with their eyes closed.

"What was with all the 'so's while you were talking?" asked the traveler in plain clothes with a cheeky grin.

Sparkborn spoke with a warning tone, "Be aware, they might still hear you. But unless you yourself were to be sufficiently impolite manners would dictate that they pretend not to. You would do well not to speak about them behind their back". Their eyes remained shut as they spoke, but they were listening carefully to the rhythmic steps of the dancer circling them in the forest.

[hobbybound]

Fae busyness

Arack was laying prone with his eyebrows furrowed on a stone ledge four meters above the ground. The creature had somehow spotted him, forcing him to retreat and reconsider his approach. The retreat had cost him some of his already nearly depleted resources, leaving him with significantly less fall-backs than he was used to. He took proper stock of what little useful tools he had at his disposal.

One last mistpearl, iron scraps, a flintlock with a single iron bullet, two iron stakes inside his padded vest, his knuckledusters and of course his immense wits.

He scratched at his cheek absentmindedly. Having thought it over he still deemed the fight winnable, so long as he was able to keep stunning it with pain and kept up the pressure he should be able to take it down. At that point a stake through its neck should finish it off. Readjusting his knuckledusters he crawled forward to the edge again to peek down at the creature.

A barely humanoid shape of inky black stood below, just short of three meters in height. Its torso was thin and elongated, the limbs were of uneven length with differing amounts of joints, it had immense claws on one hand and ten extra fingers on the other. Its flat face was rolled well over 90 degrees to the side as it looked around for Arack. Then it turned right towards him, three large purple eyes with wide blown pupils. Arack felt the familiar howling of unknowable terror pick up in the back of his head.

"Let's dance then you fey bastard" he growled, grabbed the edge and pulled himself down off the shelf. He fell and landed in a roll. The fae roared (a crackling and gurgled sound) before charging at him. Arack charged straight at it in turn.

It whipped its claws horizontally out at Arack as it got close. A moment before the movement began Arack leaned back and hit the ground with his hip, sliding clear under the attack. Once past the arm he got a knee under himself and, still sliding, connected his knuckles harshly with the inside of the creature's lowest left knee. Its inky flesh hissed like boiling oil upon contact with the iron. The knee gave way and the creature fell to the side, a gurgled sound of rage leaving its throat.

Arack span back to his feet, pushing off the ground with one hand and was then facing the creature's back. It turned its head around to face him but before it had the chance to reach for him he drew his flintlock and fired at its face. The creature shrieked as purple liquid spilled from one of its eyes, the howling in Arack's head heightened to drown out any external sound.

He threw the weapons to the side, stepped one foot on its bent knee and launched himself towards its chest. Hanging across its back by one arm he grabbed a handful of iron scraps and pressed them into its face, if it screeched again he could not hear it. He was jerked harshly backwards, feeling an unsettling amount of fingers grabbing his side before they winced away as they came too near the two stakes. He turned himself in the air cat-like while hurriedly reaching inside his vest, finding the last mist-pearl and crushing it between his fingers.

The howling in his head went quiet for a brief moment as his vision flashed pale grey and his skin covered in shivers. Then the howling came back and he was in the air above the creature, falling onto it with one of his stakes in hand. He drove it a near half-meter into the side of its neck, pushed off and landed into a backwards roll to avoid its corpse as it fell towards him. Quickly back to his feet he drew his second stake and threw it hard down at the creature, piercing where its mouth should have been and passing through its throat. He moved forward and stomped harshly at the stake, driving it into the ground below the creature and feeling an indecipherable collection of bones crack beneath his foot.

Standing still for a moment he felt the howling begin to die down before flooding back even stronger. The fae spattered and flailed for a few moments before again falling still. In the seconds before it would return again Arack wrenched the first stake from its shoulder, stepped over its arm and drove it into its pelvis at an angle so there would be no way for it to get up should it somehow remain alive for long enough to attempt it.

He then stepped back a few meters and waited. He counted ten returns before the fae gave up from the pain and let the body remain lifeless. He then walked back up to it and cut free all three of its eyes (the damaged one having been reformed in the first return) and laid them onto the ground. Next he took three ribs and the collarbone. Last he dismembered the entire clawed hand. By the time he was finished the eyes had turned a familiar misty grey and he restocked his pockets.

The rest of his spoils he put into a sack. He then reloaded the shredder he'd left on the ledge with the last of his iron scraps, collected his flintlock and set on his way back to the guildhouse. Whatever landowner would find the corpse could have the joy of burning it, it was always a spectacle.

[hobbybound]

Joy Sullivan, from Instructions for Traveling West: Poems; “Of Wildflowers”

[hobbybound]

Hi 👋, My name is Mohammad, and I’m reaching out in a moment of desperate need. I’m a father of three young children living in Gaza, and we are caught in the midst of a catastrophic war. Our home is no longer a safe haven, and the future here seems increasingly uncertain. 💔

I’ve launched a fundraising campaign with the goal of raising $40,000 to relocate my family to a safer place where my children can grow up in peace and have a chance at a brighter future.

Unfortunately, my previous fundraising efforts were abruptly halted when my account was terminated without explanation. However, I remain determined to keep fighting for my family’s safety and well-being. 🫶

If you could take a moment to read our story, consider donating, or simply share our campaign with others, it would make an incredible difference. Every act of kindness, no matter how small, brings us one step closer to safety and a new beginning. 🙏

Thank you for your time, compassion, and support. ❤️‍🩹

https://gofund.me/fd1faea2 🔗

^

[hobbybound]

You’re not going to get lost. You’re not. The trees are not so close together here, the sun and the moon can both reach you. Even the stars will.

The underbrush won’t tug at your clothes, never. Your hair and your coat won’t get snagged on branches. You can leave your coat, though, if you like. It’s not cold enough for you to need it.

If you wanted to, you could even take your shoes off. The ground isn’t cold or dirty here, it’s all moss. At least wherever you are walking. All green softness covering your path. Before you and behind you. It doesn’t even show your footsteps, that’s how soft and thick it is.

These are your woods now. All of it. There’s nothing here that would ever dream of harming you.

You’re not going to get lost. How could you? You don’t even know where you’re going yet

[hobbybound]

When you don’t have the ocean near you, befriend a river, a pond or a lake. Let the new waters take care of you for a while, landlocked child.

[hobbybound]

Craterside...

Another terrifying blast of sickly pale green shook the ground beneath their feet but they did not even flinch. Two figures stood on the edge of a large crater—next to the ruins of the great cathedral—in a silence heavier-set than bedrock. As the rubble rained within the crater one of the men spoke.

"Can't you let them rest?", the voice was dry and tired, partially lacking its usual deep rumble.

"Aftershocks... such a big blast- it leaves crumbs", the other man responded. He seemed impossibly even more tired and spoke in a stilted way as if part of his mind was elsewhere.

The first man gave a brief groan of acceptance as he shrugged, shoulders weighed down by pauldrons of stark white metal. He adjusted the cloak over his full plate armor. Every piece matching, starkly whiter than ivory, save for the large splatterings of blood which told of what he'd been doing. He felt another shake under his feet and glanced at the other man, who stood just as motionless as him.

The second man was covered fully in his cloak, sown of cloth partly black and partly burgundy and embroidered with silver thread. His short salt-and-pepper beard served only to magnify his already angular features. His eyes glowed faintly of pale green. A chill ran down the first man's spine, this other man would and could gladly destroy near everything he was ordered to. The clergy should see themselves lucky each day he did not turn on them.

"Anything- you wish to say- father Ailon?", the second man spoke, eyes trained ahead at the heart of the crater, where just a few hours ago a castle had stood.

"May their souls rest or rot, whichever the fates see fit. And may we both be forgiven for each and every skull we brought them today. So I decree it in the name of the twice-seen fate, the work is done, the anvil struck, the fire beaten out. The world may weep."

As the white-clad man spoke the last word of his tribute the rain began falling. The man in the dark cloak gave a tired chuckle as the water reacted with the crumbs still in the crater and four blasts went off at once and yet another a second later.

"So, we remain blessed", father Ailon noted as he turned around, leaving the other part of his thought unsaid; "damn the fates, let us rest". The two walked away from the crater, each donning their hoods as they with heavy steps set sights on the next city.

[hobbybound]

[hobbybound]

Andrea Gibson, The Madness Vase

[hobbybound]

To Chase a Raven

Summary: A powerful man finds himself surrounded and must escape through his city

Louke landed on the roof with only a faint thud, far too light for his speed, and fell into a crouch. He adjusted his grip on the cane in his left hand, made of dark wood with a silver raven's-head at its handle. He peered over the edge and down to the street below, as he did he willed the ring on his finger to recharge and the second eye in the tiny bird skull lit up in a faint blue like the first.

His pursuers hadn't seemed to follow him over the building, nor were they running along the street below to catch him on the other side. A pebble fell from the chimney next to him, looking up he saw a cloaked figure about to drop down onto him with a dagger in hand. Instinctively he raised his right hand and pointed across the street towards an open window. Looking down it, past the silver bird skull on his index finger, to check his aim he let out a single harsh syllable.

"Kuh" he said, and he was flung towards the window, his grey coat and cloak whipping in the wind behind him. Flying at a speed double that of sprinting he cleared the street in a moment, tucked his feet and passed the windowsill, and willed the shutters to close behind him. As they swung closed he rolled to the floor inside the room and skidded to a stop.

Quickly back on his feet he searched the walls for the door. Since he hadn't seen that particular window closed he only knew that it had been closed previously in theory and as such willing it back into that state had been more difficult. Due to this he now didn't have enough of his magical resource, Knowing, to relight the second eye of his ring and would have to do with the one charge for the moment.

He found the door and rushed through it to find himself in a corridor, at the end of it he saw a window and began sprinting towards it. There was a loud knocking on the door of the floor below, the people chasing him were quick. Approaching the window and feeling that not enough Knowing had regrown in him to will it open he resigned himself to having to burst through it with force alone.

He jumped towards the shutters and curled into a ball, hitting them with his shoulder and hip. They were knocked open and he found himself flying out of the second story into the air over another street. He looked around quickly as he began to fall and saw a man on the street below drawing back a longbow aimed at him. How someone would have gotten a longbow past the inner wall was baffling.

Again he pointed with his right hand, this time diagonally upwards over the building on the other side of the street from the one he'd just thrown himself out of. "Kuh" he spoke again, spending the last charge of his ring and sending him flying clear over the building in front of him. An arrow whistled past him, missing by no more than a meter, as he turned his head towards the direction he was flying.

Seeing that he would indeed clear the building he swung his cane and with the sound of wings flapping he rolled into a ball and summersaulted in the air to be facing forward. As if spun by invisible hands his rotation was started and stopped in a way that seemed impossible.

He hit the wall of the next building over from the one he had cleared with his feet first. He absorbed the landing as if it had been at a tenth of the speed before dropping a story and a half and landing leisurely on the street below.

Looking quickly around himself he judged that he must have gotten past those surrounding him so he ran down the street towards the outer wall. With the adrenaline flowing through his veins he felt the Knowing grow within him and he was able to will his ring to relight one of its charges. This was made easier than closing the shutters due to how many times he'd already done it and because he had seen it charged before.

[hobbybound]

see you at basrar's! ✶✶✶

bonus: yearbook page!