#Guest Muse: Evil Frog

[musecheerios]

She has been unintentionally staring at the frog for about three minutes right now.

She can’t put her finger on it, but something about this fella seems...menacing. He suddenly blinks, making the brunette flinch.

“Ed...it just blinked.”

“No duh, they do that.”

Is oddly fascinated by the frog.

Takes pic. Though the flash triggered the creature, and made it hop RIGHT on the brunette’s face.

SHRIEKS!!

[nightlyvisitor]

[ adore ]   your muse being near reverent with mine in bed. ( for Ray 💕 )

What a turn of events.

This evening had been nothing but a slow show, where most agents had to be present for an important event. Financial and material supporters were an important piece if the BSAA wanted to keep its personnel together and ensure its firepower in the clash against evil minds. Some less familiar faces to him were in good spirits, chatting away with other guests, while others listened into conversations. Raymon wasn't feeling too chatty, in fact, the loud whispering voices would eventually exhaust his mind, as he tried to keep up with any important information. Laying down in a white chair, hand gently clasped over his closed eyes he can't help but grow restless. A curious hand combs lightly through his slicked-back hair, the sniper leaning into the touch.

A gentle stroke that releases a deep sigh out of him as if all that tension in his bones had subsided. It's when his brain finally catches up, do amber orbs snap open to see the older operative before Raymon. Of course, it could only be him. Giving the taller man a reassuring albeit tired smile Ray can't help but let his gaze trail over him. Maybe he hadn't thought about this much, but seeing Chris in a suit...it really looked good on him. Defined edges highlighted by the midnight black material of his blazer, the way bright blue and hazel shards reflected in the other eyes would contrast strongly against the dark...perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad idea to join another fancy event. But all his daydreaming ends quickly when calloused fingers cup his jawline before directing his attention back on Chris, seeing a shift in beautiful hues, darkened by something mischievous....it was all he needed to abandon tonight's event.

Cut back to the present both men were tangled in a hot mess, hands wrapped around each other and lips connected in a longing kiss. It's not until Raymon has to pull out of the kiss, taking a deep breath to keep his mind clear. As soon as his face returns back to a peachy tint, he catches on to a quiet laugh...a delicate sound that made the smaller operative yearn for more.

"Looked too much like a frog with puffy cheeks ey?" The sniper snickers now imagining a tiny frog puffing and croaking in protest...but having the other smile was enough for him to let it slide. Soon they return to their plans, shirts discarded in a faraway corner of his bedroom as Raymon coaxes the other to lie down. Supporting himself on both hands the shorter of the two connects them back into a soft sensual kiss that's only strengthened by a hungry desire clawing at them. As soon as both of them are left breathless, Raymon starts his trail of soft kisses and marks etched into the other soft skin. Anything done harsher would be soothed with a few licks, some more mischievous, gazing at the other whenever his teasing touches would descend lower, kisses and sucking marks splayed playfully along the other's happy trail.

Yet despite all of his moves, amber hues would keep an eye on the man who treasured him the most. Every moan and groan passed from his lips or the way Chris' body would shake at the marks on his sensitive points...it was a reminder and a promise to himself, that he would love and share that part of him, he wanted to stash away from other people. Yes, people saw him as an optimistic guy, someone who would extend his hand to help...but when it came to such a deeper connection those thoughts would be swept into the back of his mind. He couldn't always give everyone who showed intimate interest in him a deeper piece of himself...if everyone would get a small piece of him, what would he be left with afterwards? It was a frightening thought...but right now the whining man before him should have his attention.

It isn't until he feels a sneaky hand gliding over his inner thigh that Raymon purrs in delight. "You have been very patient so far my sweet boy...Don't you think you deserve a reward?" His voice is quiet, but laced with sincerity as hands lean to gently unhook and discard any remaining clothes. The sniper can't help but take in the other's form, a beautiful canvas coloured in hues of red, pink and plum complimented by the blue hues that pinned him in place. With a soft smile, he can't help but place a soft kiss on his forehead, before shifting back into action. "You gotta let me know if it hurts bad okay big bear?" A part of him knew Chris was sturdy and that strength was more than visible in combat...but a part of him wanted to treat the other right. Maybe not to the fragile extreme but not to the point where it would cause harsh pain to the taller operative.

"I want to make you all mine tonight"..and for as long as I am here.

Words are hummed like a poem and soon any gentle ministrations are applied to ease any big discomfort, calloused fingers stretching the other for him. It was a hard task, especially since his mind was hazy with want but for the other he would take that time.

"Ready for me, mon clair de lune?"

[archaeval]

MUSE QUESTIONS

What is your character’s favourite physical activity?: She’s not much of an active person. Her main two active pass times are playing pretend with Jane, or killing people. And while the latter ultimately feels more fulfilling in the short term, she’s far happier to do the former a majority of the time.

What is your character’s favourite weather?: She likes early spring mornings -- cold, with a bit of frost on the trees and a mist on the ground, while the sun is just starting to turn the sky pink.

What is your character’s favourite season?: Late winter/early spring. Color is starting to return to the world, but there’s still a bracing cold she loves.

What is your character’s least favourite season?: Summer. She does not tolerate the heat well.

Is your character a morning person, night owl, or something else entirely?: Morning person mostly.

A stranger makes a crude comment to your character. How do they react?: It depends entirely on context. As a more-or-less seelie fairy, manners are paramount, especially when coming from house guests. A poor guest can face a punishment anywhere from cleaning her windows to being fed to the bookwyrms, depending on her mood and the severety of the comment, regardless of how “fair” it may seem. But she might find their crassness amusing, depending on her mood, their presentation, and how clever the comment is. The woes of being capricious, truly.

What is your character’s favourite beverage?: Tea when the sun is up, red wine in the evenings.

Does your character know how to swim?: Nope. And she mostly just sinks right to the bottom with how dense her body is.

It’s the first day of truly good weather that your character has seen this year. What do they do?: Ruby is going to drag Jane out of bed. After a hearty breakfast, they’d take a picnic and head out to see what animals have come out of hibernation and to seek out frogs.

What was your character’s last nightmare?: Ruby doesn’t dream in quite the same way most people do -- nor does she need sleep every single night. While she does occasionally enter REM sleep and have proper dreams, she’s still aware of the world and somewhat disconnected from the dream itself. While it occasionally leaves her with emotional remnants, she rarely remembers the dreams themselves.

What was your character’s last pleasant dream?: See Above.

What is your character’s worst fear?: While her main fear is losing control over her surroundings, her worst fear is losing Jane specifically. She’s compromised and sacrificed too much, even before the library, in the name of protecting her daughter, that it would all but kill her to lose Jane now.

What is your character’s favourite colour to wear?: While she’s a fan of most deep colors and jewel tones, her favorite is black with gold accents.

From your point of view, what is your character’s worst flaw?: While i joke that it’s her snobbery and arrogance, her true biggest flaw is her dependence upon the world she’s created around her. The routine and rules have given her the feeling of safety she went without for so much of her mortal life that she’s unable to even consider leaving it, and even perceived threats to that safety leaves her anxious and on edge.

From your point of view, what is your character’s greatest strength?: She loves who she is. Ruby knows she’s left human morality long behind, and thrills in things she would have once considered evil. While she will never be able to completely silence that part of her, she still relishes fulfilling the role of monster in fairy tales and legends in a number of different worlds.

Is your character an introvert or an extrovert?: Introvert.

What method of transportation does your character use?: When not simply walking and crawling along the walls, Ruby uses a magical mist that crops up. She walks through it to get to the goblin market for her monthly shopping sprees. Even if she wasn’t too big to ride a horse or in a carriage, however, she gets motion sick too easily to enjoy it.

How does your character feel about sex?: Extremely repulsed to the concept. She likes to consider herself a sexless, heartless monster with one redeeming quality -- her love for Jane -- and sex opens up certain vulnerabilities she’s all too skilled at shoving deep down and locking away, supposedly forever.

Has your character ever deliberately set out to emotionally hurt someone?: Multiple times, though she prefers physical punishments to emotional. Though she can be cold and callous, she doesn’t actively seek out ways to hurt others unless they give her reason to. After all, she is a gracious hostess first, and a wicked beast only when she needs to be -- even if it is an all-too-common occurence.

TAGGED BY: @nykrose

TAGGING: @reastless @thegreatstrongbow @empathicstars @ @cosmicnexus @beautiful-mischief and you!

[shardclan]

Dust found the imagery before her hard to describe. Education hadn't exactly been high on the list of her captors' priorities, so an appropriate word didn’t immediately spring to mind.

The hall was impressive enough on it's own. All pale, sandy granite and so high it made her dizzy. Circular windows lined the walls so high up it would have been impossible to peek in from outside without flying. In the ceiling, still more vast circular skylights allowed a soft, pinkish light in through barriers. On the back wall was an enormous stained glass image of the clan's emblem, and the hall echoed with the gentle flapping of the banner that hung between the massive entry-way pillars.

And yet even in a structure so massive, the woman occupying it  seemed to fill the space with her presence.

Her gown stretched from the curve of her collar to her ankles, the colors all soft dawn pinks that descended into misty lavenders. The fringes glittered with a woven mesh of gold and silver and tiny pearls that hardly made sense to Dust eyes, but was beautiful. A rapier hung at her hip, a shining white accent to the dress, and by the obvious swell of muscle that showed on her open shoulders, it probably wasn't for show. And topping it off were her horns; curving, faceted spires in a blue too aggressive to be ignored which completely outshone her modest crown.

Resplendent. That would have been the word going through Dust's mind if she knew it. But the feeling of awe was very much intact without it.

"I am Telos," the woman said smoothly. "The Morning Queen of Clan Aphaster. I'm glad to see you're both recovering."

Dust glanced to the side. She had almost entirely forgotten that Tràthail was with her she was so quiet. Silent awe was new on her. They both made sure to bow, but it was an entirely silent, slack-jawed affair. Or at least it was until Tràthail recovered.

"Thank you!" she blurted. "You saved us!"

"Not quite," Telos clarified. "It was the Smoke Gyre who discovered you, and he came to request my help. I gave him my Umbra Wolf's aid."

Tràthail's energy died down again. Her feelings about the Smoke Gyre were complicated to say the least. "You did not leave us to our fate. That is the important part."

"That much is true. I have called you here to determine what your fates will be from now on. If you would like to search for your families or go to your homelands, I am willing to sponsor you. Otherwise, we are willing to provide you homes here for as long as you would like to stay."

Dust's eyes dropped to her fidgeting hands. She had been bathed and oiled and clothed. The doctors had worked her back up to solid food. She was still far too small and she tired easily and her head ached frequently and she was prone to dizzy spells and when she walked too much her vision went gray and she began to sweat and Tràthail had already become quite friendly while Dust couldn’t find it in her to relax at all...

"What do you get from all of this?" she asked. "Why would you keep such a burden?"

Telos frowned and swept her skirts aside to kneel in front of Dust. "That is no way to think of yourself. All children need to be provided for, whether they are sickly or well. When you're an adult, you can think about what you want to do for the clan or if you'd like to leave. But you are a child. If you live here, I will make sure you are taken care of. Your only job will be to get well and learn to control your powers."

"And that's it? You nurse me back to health and I can just...leave if I want to?"

"No strings attached."

For Tràthail, there appeared to be no question at all. "I will stay with Dust."

Dust jumped. "What? Why? You know where your family is, go home to them."

"You think they will let me come to see you when I like? A harpy skipping on the wind to see a dragon among other dragons? Ha! No, I will stay with you and go see them how I like."

Dust felt her head throb. Her friend was...a lot to deal with now that their circumstances weren’t so dire. "Tràthail that's even worse. They're not going to smile on that either."

"Dust is right," said Telos. "This clan is not well favored by your kind."

"The kind I care about is Dust,” Tràthail said bluntly. “If you care for her then she is your kind too, and I will be kind to you."

"Even knowing the Smoke Gyre frequents this clan?"

Tràthail pressed her lips together and her feathers lifted into a mass of agitated fluff around her shoulders. "Stories of him came to the hidden roosts in the snow lands. When our clans fled to the fire lands, the roosts already there spoke of him like an evil spirit. A force like the sickness in the deadlands, unstoppable, but preventable. There is no harpy that would look on him kindly."

"I'm aware. We've been unable to make peace with the harpies here due to his presence."

"Why does he follow you?"

"His son lives among us," Telos clarified quickly. "His protection is over us, but he isn’t under my command."

"I see." Her feathers smoothed, but behind her mask her feelings were still very complicated. "Does he hate us, Matriarch Telos?"

"No. It's not how he is."

"I did not think so..." She ran her claws distractedly through her feathers. "He carried me. He did not let me die. The Smoke Gyre I was taught about would never have done this. ...I can be kind to you knowing he is here. Because he was kind to me."

"I'm glad your mind is so open." Both their eyes turned to Dust. "What would you like to do?"

"I don't know," she said weakly. "But...I can stay here until I do know, right? As a guest? With Tràthail?"

"Yes. We can discuss the topic again when you're older. For now," she called over her shoulder. "Bestealcian."

Both girls jumped as the coatl emerged from the shadow. Unlike the queen, she did not bother to shape-shift, so she was easily identifiable.

"You!" Trathail exclaimed. "Dust, this is the Umbra Wolf!"

"I-I remember," Dust stammered. She tilted her head. "Did you have that scar before...?"

"Fraid not, kiddo. Took a hit in the explosion, just like you two."

"I'm...I'm sorry."

The coatl’s face split into a wide grin, and she ruffled Dust's short coils. "Don't worry your head over it, tiny. I'm fine."

"Bestealcian will guide you to your new living quarters,” said Telos. “You will continue to see Alala regularly, but you will both be housed together with Azricai."

"Is she nice? Can she cook? Does she know Miss Alala?" Tràthail bubbled.

"Your friend's very chatty," Bestealcian mused to Dust with a wink. "Azricai is...special. She was almost eaten once too."

Both girls stopped cold. "She survived the serthis as well?"

"Not the serthis, no. She was almost eaten alive by a giant toad." The look of horror on their faces was so intense that Bestealcian actually felt a little bad for saying anything. “Don’t worry, she made a full recovery. And that frog’s very dead. But that’s why she limps, so be polite about it.”

Both girls gave out a nervous ‘okay’. Dust glanced back at Telos, and saw her still standing there, watching them go. It was hard to tell because she understood very little about coatl bodies, but Bestealcian was probably built solidly as well. She had to be, the fan had been surprisingly heavy but she swung it like it was made of paper.

Someday, she thought firmly, she would be strong too. She tugged at Bestealcian’s side, leaning in close so Tràthail couldn’t hear. “Are the serthis all dead?”

Bestealcian looked down at her. Her tongue flicked slowly, and in the time it took to slither back into her mouth, Dust felt she had been seen through completely. She didn’t care.

But she might have been more careful about the question if she had known Bestealcian as anything other than a savior.

“No,” the coatl finally answered with an eerie leer. “But we'll get to that later.”

[musecheerios]

It stares at you while you sleep.

It wants to destroy your bloodline.