lingeringlibrary

[lingeringlibrary]

the on time-ness of various hels posts will vary greatly henceforth. the executives. they're dysfuntioning.

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Day One: Grian

It comes to the Knight Champion’s mind, vaguely, that he has never seen someone with feathered wings before. It hadn’t registered before - hearing the faintest noise of a swoop from the air above had him focused on far more important things. But now that his opponent is… subdued? Can he really call the cackling winged man clutching his bleeding arm subdued? Regardless, the active danger has passed for now, and he can take stock of him. His sandy hair hangs in his face, which is fully obscured to the Knight Champion just now. The man is notably shorter than him, bent over slightly at the strength of his laughter. His wings have sandy brown and pinkish white feathers. He seems to be wearing mostly red.

The man’s head snaps back up to look at him, and the Knight Champion raises his bloodied blade in warning. There’s something wrong with his eyes. Matte black, flat - like thin discs of blackstone had been placed into empty eyesockets. He sees the Knight Champion’s slight grimace at the thought, and a smile of needle sharp teeth is flashed at him.

“So you are as sharp as he says,” the winged man says, and the Knight Champion feels something ugly twist in his gut, “Had to see for myself.”

“As who says?” the Knight Champion asks, though he knows the answer that will come. The winged man’s laugh is crueler, this time.

“Is there more than one man who claims you in this city? Should I tell our dear Master Trader?”

The Knight Champion’s glare is withering, but the winged man stubbornly stays unphased.

“No. I thought you might be smarter than crossing him. That’s all.” 

His clipped speech just sends more amusement through the winged man.

“He won’t mind. He likes me.”

He knows when he’s being toyed with. He’s been too obvious with his feelings. It stands to reason that any of his oldest friend’s business partners would be the type to play like this. He turns to look at a window of the manor house - a very specific one. He can’t see inside, but that isn’t the point. He can practically feel the winged man’s smugness, and as the Knight Champion looks back he’s just opened his mouth, about to say something else-

A spectral arrow hits the ground at his feet. Clearly shot through the window.

The winged man’s laughter ends in a scoff, and he takes flight.

“Sentimental about all his pets, then,” he says, seemingly to himself, and the Knight Champion wishes it were easier to ignore that.

In a way, his wish is granted when the winged man throws a fire charge as he departs - the Knight Champion deflects it easily, though he doesn’t care to see if it hit the winged man. Instead, he makes his way to the doors. 

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Notes under the cut. See masterpost for world lore.

We are starting off weak with the guy who has possibly the least relevance of anyone in the story these meetings come from! I am not sure I'm happy with this characterization for Hels!Grian. I went with a crueler edge to his tricksterish nature, and given the way that the Knight Champion and Master Trader are entwined I decided that this sort of situation is the most likely way for them to encounter each other. And in case it is too vague, the Master Trader's identity can be found in the tags.

[lingeringlibrary]

Hels-a-noon June - Masterpost

Several important facts about my iteration of Hels before we begin:

Nobody in Hels remembers being a young child. It is unclear whether Hels denizens come into being in their older teens, or if they simply do not remember anything before that point. It is widely accepted by those who believe the latter that the instinctive knowledge and fear of the spawn warrens are tied to this forgotten childhood.

The world spawn of Hels is deep underground, and the tunnel system known as the spawn warrens must be navigated if you are unlucky enough to be sent back there. Without exception, that place invokes deep fear in Hels denizens - even the most curious will not intentionally set foot in them.

Hels denizens do not, by and large, have names. They are far more likely to hold certain titles based on their accomplishments or skills - but those who don’t have any to speak of are referred to by any notable physical characteristic, if they are referred to at all.

The Knight Champion of Hels is perhaps the highest title one can hold, and certainly the one that commands most respect - it is not known when, how, or why the order of knights formed. The title of Knight Champion is determined via tournament - anyone who is able to inflict a violent enough death upon the previous as to prevent a respawn will gain the title for themself.

Speaking of - yes, it is possible in Hels to kill someone so violently they are incapable of respawning. This does not have any known impact on the player they are modeled after.

Hels denizens refer to themselves as the ‘shadow’ of the player they emerge from - all the dark and none of the light. A shadow may resemble their player’s behavior very closely should that player indulge their darker instincts, or they may seem almost wholly unrelated if the player ignores the temptation to.

Shadows can see what their player sees if they enter a trance state. However, they are only capable of planting suggestions that many players ignore, and the shadow themself is left vulnerable while they do this. As such, one almost never sees a shadow in trance.

The scenes written here are all from Helsknight’s perspective, but they jump around in time - each scene is a first meeting, and those did not all happen near each other. As such, the name used for him will vary - he becomes the Knight Champion after he meets a few of our cast.

Day One: Grian

[lingeringlibrary]

a poor method of dealing with hating your coworker

Do You Copy? (Podcast) | Blair Whitfield/Dakota Maxwell | Rated M | 283 words

This is probably, definitely, a bad idea. That's never stopped Blair before. or: at an indeterminate point before main canon, Blair and Dakota argue, kiss about it, and resolve to never speak of it again.

Read Here

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Discovered the Yuri Shipping Olympics. Feeling normal about them. Anyway read Still Here on Ao3 for podcast yuri! Do You Copy? Podcast | Blair Whitfield/Reese Williams | Rated T | 442 words

Read Here

[lingeringlibrary]

@uncooked-glass made some amazing art and I got inspired to write a snippet based off it. Perhaps someday there'll be a larger storyline this snippet settles into, but for now it stands alone.

Garden Dweller

He didn't notice it at the start - couldn’t even tell you when it started, really. Maybe it started from the moment he set foot here. Maybe his thought to depict himself as a ghost for his base was influenced by it. But he’s noticed now, of course. There’s something funny about it taking growing a new eye to really see the changes. He can’t ignore them anymore, not like he could when he felt the changes.

He doesn’t feel them anymore - roots and vines don’t squirm under your skin in the same way once it has hardened to bark. The only part he does still feel is the constriction of vines and resin around his heart - it’s still trying to beat, unaware that there’s no blood left to pump. He shouldn’t be able to think. There’s no blood carrying oxygen to his brain, he doesn’t even breathe anymore. Sometimes, out of instinct, he still tries to, but the creaking noises that come from his chest are unwelcome reminders of his current state.

He’s making the best of it. Of course he is. This game they’re playing is fleeting, transient. He’ll be somewhere else again as soon as it ends, somewhere that anything that happens in these worlds can’t follow him. He isn’t really dying, he won’t find himself growing roots and joining the garden for good. He’s not going to fulfill some self-prophesied haunting, building himself as a ghost for his home won’t matter after this.

So when he isn’t alone - when he’s talking to his friends, or to those curious eyes that he lets follow him to get a better look at the show - he can act like himself. When someone is watching, the transformation doesn’t progress. 

But it is in his nature to slip off on his own and do simple things that those curious eyes tire of quickly.