leerofthevinegaroons

[leerofthevinegaroons]

"You don't know me. I'm not the same person anymore."

"That's okay. I'll get to know you again."

[leerofthevinegaroons]

// @toodamnloyal THEODORE HAS DONE THIS TO BARIBUS AND HE’S STILL FINDING THEM!

Love how you can feel his sanity slipping away…

[leerofthevinegaroons]

toodamnloyal

Having safely retrieved the rest of the food that Manse hadn’t snapped up, and done so without being bitten, the cursed sailor slunk closer. He was low, belly almost touching the floor and tail lifted only enough to avoid dragging and sidled up to the edge of the wading pool. It was true that Theo didn’t know how to feel about the bug-like creature. It was true that he was friends with Baribus, not necessarily Manse … but all the same … he didn’t like seeing the creature ill and miserable. Theo’s ears flicked forward and then fell flat, his whiskers drooped. Carefully he reared up enough to rest his forepaws on the edge of the plastic pool and lay his chin atop them. So … Manse was thinking about what fixing the whole mess meant for himself. Before the bug was … created? Was created the correct term? Before Baribus had been turned into the creature, the Professor had managed to devise a spell that returned him from his half-nadder state back to human in order to spend time with Mathafew, to be able to leave the museum and have a relatively normal existence. Then some trickster creature had ‘finished’ the experiment that had made him that way, and the result was a simple crustacean-like creature, and Manse had been content the way he was. Ivory’s experimentation had once again led to Baribus returning occasionally, but being unaware of Manse and the nadder-creature unaware of him and all of that had started making the monster more self-aware. Then Baribus learned about his alternate self, and so had Manse and they were really pulling away from each other, Manse becoming its own person. Theo pondered the mess as he half-lay against the top of the pool. The only reason he struggled to be friends with Manse, was because he wanted Baribus, he wanted his friend back. “Manse…” The otter creature questioned and ignoring the order to leave the miserable monster in peace, “…Are you ill… or are you frightened?”

A Sick Nadder

[leerofthevinegaroons]

A Sick Nadder

[leerofthevinegaroons]

Manse clicked his mandibles irritably and lifted his head from the water. "Den cold," he reiterated. "Cold. hard to get. Manse sick. Hard to get in den... not come out again..."

He rested his head on the edge of the wading pool, before slipping back in the water. He was talking too much and it was taking so much energy just to answer the water-hound that he was growing too tired to tell him to just go away. he really wanted to do was sleep, really, but something inside him was... afraid to sleep in his den. At least while he was sick. He didn't want to be sick in the dark of his den. Something in being sick made his den isolating... frightening... like he'd go to sleep and never wake up...

Manse made a soft grating whine that might've been a sigh and curled up in the wading pool, his shoulder carapace poking out of the water into the warm air. A weight rested on Manse, one that only amplified the sickness, making the nadder more miserable than he had been.

"Go, water-hound," the shelled beast rattled tersely. "Go to friends. Manse knows he is not your friend. Sailor is your friend. Not Manse. Go. Others will help... Leave Manse alone..."

With that, the nadder curled up tighter, clamping its shelled head closed as it lay miserably in the wading pool beside its giant aquarium.

It seems while Theo has been meandering the museum, Manse has commandeered his kiddie pool. The bug usually isn’t out of his tank nowadays, but he seems a bit peakish and only gives a low, rattly hiss to warn passers by.

It seems the lanky crustacean isn’t feeling as well as he should.

Weeks had passed since Theo and Manse had returned to the museum after the bug had run off. Very little progress at all had been made with trying to return Baribus to them, and even less progress on Manse and Theo’s relationship. The transformed-sailor had grown reluctantly used to being a waterhound, resigned to waiting while the professor and his assistants worked to aid Manse and Baribus first.

As Theo wandered the museum, his gait was much easier these days, tail held aloft behind him rather than dragging on the floors and not struggling so much to move freely on four legs. The transformed sailor skid around a corner, his tail lashed out behind him as he swerved to escape the three mannequins trying to chase down the snack-thief. Theo galloped off until he’d managed to duck through the door leading into the giant aquarium.

The frills around is throat and along his dorsal fin were glowing with his amusement as Theo laughed around his mouthful of stolen snacks. He dove into his small plastic pool and ducked down to hide - then immediately threw himself out of it again in a huge splash of water after realizing that it was already occupied. “Manse!” Theo yelped. His snacks, several bags of sweets, fruits, and the occasionally sushi roll fell and scattered across the floor. “Sorry!” He backed away from the hissing water bug, ears and head down. “I thought you were in the pool, you know, you’re pool?” The one Theo avoided like a plague.

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[leerofthevinegaroons]

Manse clicked his mandibles irritably and lifted his head from the water. "Den cold," he reiterated. "Cold. hard to get. Manse sick. Hard to get."

He gave a sigh and rested his head back in the water. He was talking too much and it was taking so much energy just to tell the water-hound... All he really wanted to do was sleep, but something inside him was... afraid to sleep in his den. At least while he was sick. He didn't want to be sick in the dark of his den. Something in being sick made his den isolating... frightening... like he'd go to sleep and never wake up.

Manse made a soft grating whine that might've been a sigh and curled up in the wading pool, his shoulder carapace poking out of the water into the warm air.

"Don't want to sleep," he burbled softly. "Don't want to sleep... or not wake up..."

Being jostled was never something Manse enjoyed. Usually he responded with a his and snap of his helm or a darting slash of his claws. But as the water hound dove into the pool, crashed into him, and promptly dove out, all Manse managed to do was lift his head with a displeased hiss before resting his head half submerged in the remaining pool water.

He then spotted a piece of fruit that had landed in the pool and slowly nipped at it with his helm. It took a minute, but he finally got it and ate it when he heard Theodore’s statement. The nadder let out a rough groan and opened his shell so he could glance out at the water hound.

“Den… too cold,” he rasped, lifting his beak out of the water. “Not… well…” he continued before resting his head back in the water.

[leerofthevinegaroons]

The shadow tutted. "Is that any way to greet me?" It said still using the hated form, "I created you, after all." It smiled more amused by the aggression coming from Manse than anything else. "And my face is whatever I want it to be, and I thought that this would be more than appropriate to celebrate your escape."

"But," The shadow sighed like it was indulging a small child and the borrowed shape broke away into mist before coming together again with a new face. This one a tall man with long pale features and dark hair tied back in a neat queue. Golden eyes strikingly similar to those of Manse that peered at it glittered down at the nadder. "Perhaps this is more to your liking." The shadow rumbled in a rich voice.

It continued walking along just above the water in the direction of the open ocean. "Your lovely 'foeman' will be looking for you I expect. This time you should make certain it is the one who leaves bloodied. I did try to warn you that those people are not your friends. If they could, they would kill you."

The moon was bright in the canal, the water low and the current not quite as strong. Safe in the shadows of the half-filled canal, the nadder peered at the Threwdish figure, its mandibles clicking with agitation. It wanted the Threwd to go away, to leave it to its venturing. Museum wasn't safe. No longer safe. Not with foeman. Not with new rival nadder. It was stung, hurt, betrayed, and its feelings boiled in its stomach.

Manse gave a low, rattling growl as it carefully clambered to the edge of its perch and scooped up a large mouthful of water, sloshing it down to its face within its cracked helm. Feelings would turn water to acid, help defend Manse, protect it from enemy foemen.

But then the thoughts of Ivory, Katherine, the Night Guard, and even the one lady, Lavinia, came to mind. They hadn't harmed him. They were not enemies...

"Not all are foemen," the nadder muttered, his belly at least somewhat full of the cool water. "Some are foemen. Some... still friends."

Then he heard it - the rich, familiar baritone that made him stop cold. The nadder froze in place for a time before slowly turning to look at the Threwdish figure. There, standing just above the canal water, was the tall man, his dark hair pulled back in a queue and his eyes mirroring the nadder's own.

He knew that voice. He knew it in his bones deep beneath his carapace. Something stirred in the nadder, a recognition, a will - another's will. Awe, indignation, but most of all recognition.

"You..." the nadder hissed, "you use wrong face. Face not threwd, not yours." The nadder made a spitting hiss and snapped his shell at the specter. He didn't know why he was angry, but the sight of the man before him hurt him deeply, made him sad in a way he couldn't even describe! Seeing him made his chest ache more than even the water hound's terrible bite!

"Begone!" Manse barked, clapping his claws against his cement perch. "Begone! Manse is not slave of Threwd! Manse is Manse! Leave! Manse will deal with foeman! You not master of Manse!"

[leerofthevinegaroons]

we all know and love dog coded characters but what about their cousin, falcon coded characters. characters whose loyalty is fierce, but more distant, less physically affectionate, an unspoken but mutually understood bond. whose devotion to you is a language that only the two of you understand. whose fearsome appearance never lets you forget the privilege you hold in having earned that devotion. who require careful handling and patience to bond with, so you don't slip and cut yourself on their sharp edges. whose trust is given after you place yours in them, not before. whose dependence on you is less apparent but no less real. whose power is only equal to their fragility. who can easily leave your side, but will always return when you hold out your hand and call them home.

[leerofthevinegaroons]

@toodamnloyal

Pequeño pero matón

[leerofthevinegaroons]

her battle feels more like a dance than a fight and i love it

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[leerofthevinegaroons]

A trope that gets to me: 'guard dog' character and their partner who are both fully aware of it and honestly don't care/kind of like it. Someone says "call your guard dog off" and their partner does call them off. That person, their 'guard dog', is someone who is unreservedly, irrefutably loyal to them. Someone undoubtedly dangerous who is willing to kill, to maim, to obey, simply because of their love for one another. There's no manipulation involved— it is loyalty, brutal, dogged loyalty. And it goes both ways.

[leerofthevinegaroons]

get you a man who despite his literal decades of practice repressing and hiding his emotions to survive physically cannot hide how smitten he is with you

[leerofthevinegaroons]

A trope that gets to me: 'guard dog' character and their partner who are both fully aware of it and honestly don't care/kind of like it. Someone says "call your guard dog off" and their partner does call them off. That person, their 'guard dog', is someone who is unreservedly, irrefutably loyal to them. Someone undoubtedly dangerous who is willing to kill, to maim, to obey, simply because of their love for one another. There's no manipulation involved— it is loyalty, brutal, dogged loyalty. And it goes both ways.

[leerofthevinegaroons]

God I'm a sucker for characters who are so utterly loyal to someone that they're completely unhinged. Characters who have no moral compass except their overwhelming devotion to whoever they've chosen to listen to. That's the good shit

[leerofthevinegaroons]

when kafka said ‘you wouldn’t believe the kind of person I could become if you wanted it’ and when brontë said ‘if you ever looked at me with what I know is in you, I would be your slave’ and when Sartre said ‘if I’ve got to suffer it may as well be at your hands’

[leerofthevinegaroons]

Lady Maria sketch