#florent

[agent-lapin]

confessional..

[agarthanguide]

Agarthan this might be really silly but could you tell us more about Florent? I’d love to write about him for you after everything you’ve done for this fandom

First of all- that’s very sweet of you. This is why I left twitter and Reddit but resumed life on tumblr. Nothing is expected, but for the sake of the record, I’m gonna see what I can remember about our time together.

So Florent… hmm, let me think. He’s middle aged and has a workmanlike vibe. A little anal, but not neurotic. He wears a well broken-in workshop apron. Lots of canvas and linens. He’s never intentionally looked in a mirror, but he’s more craftsperson than artist. Keeps his hair short, workshop is well-organized, but not Neat. He’s also mostly non-verbal, but his quiet cursing, snorts of irritation, and side-eyes are almost a language. He’s a bit deaf from life in the workshop.

I don’t really know if he has immediate family- a spouse or something. He does have siblings. And friends. And always stands his round at the pub. He is extremely proud of the commissions he takes- not because of the prestige of the subjects, but because he is devoted to his Craft. His earlier commissions involved designing decorative panels in the city squares, installing patterned pieces into walls, that sort of thing.

I don’t know if he Got Out of Avalir. I’d like to think that he heard Loquatius Seelie’s announcement and command to leave, but frankly he’s a sort of staid individual, the type who assumes it will be okay because we shall All Get Through This Together. And I think he would be devastated to leave his workshop. He wouldn’t know what One Thing to grab on his way out. And he’d probably go door to door making sure the neighbors he doesn’t really talk to are all out, first.

[ak-illustrate]

In the chapter I am currently working on, Lori, Florent, and Lucian don't really show up at all, and I missed drawing them.

So here's some practice drawings!

[houserosaire]

KISS: What was your OC's first kiss like? Who was it with? Do they remember it?

Silvaineaux's first kiss, like probably a significant number of first kisses, was hesitant, rather strange and awkward, and still somehow managed to be just a bit earth-shattering. It was with Florent, and it was rather a long time coming. He had spent all that summer growing more and more aware of Florent. He usually thought Florent felt something of whatever it was too but he could not be entirely certain. They spent months flirting with it, that awareness, that thing between them, flirting with it, and with each other. There were a few close calls, where they came close, where Silvaineaux almost made the attempt or when he thought Florent was considering it. One or the other of them always seemed to shy away, until finally one rainy fall day when Silvaineaux had come in soaking wet from a ride and found Florent slipping into the stables with a bottle of alcohol he'd filched from somewhere. They sneaked up into the lofts with it and sat in the dry, musty straw scented dimness and passed it back and forth. And that time when Florent leaned in a little too close Silvaineaux's patient with their little game of hesitations broke. He grabbed Florent rather awkwardly by the collar and kissed him equally awkwardly. He pulled back about half expecting Florent to punch him or push him down the ladder, but Florent didn't. He will never forget.

[michaelenthusiast]

michael sprites . perfect for shit post

[postcard-from-the-past]

"The flower", painting by E. Pascau

French vintage postcard, mailed in 1913 to Saint-Florent

[cariciapadre]

art trade part with @pnutsdotorg ?!!!!!! kicks feet . look at these queermos

read more 4 alts ( without filter n crap )

[yaizaworld10]

Love words (Snapdragon x Popcorn)

Well Florent (Snapdragon) and Sam (Popcorn) sometimes say very corny phrases and nicknames

[thekingofchungus]

YEEHAWGUST, WEEK 3: VENOMOUS / TRICK ROPING

florent is a therapist for monsters. sometimes its hard.

[nogoodsheepstealing-greatgrandma]

[agent-lapin]

wowowowow my cute ocs!!!!!

[windupsanson]

♒ - cooking/food headcanon

Thank you for the ask!

I got those twice so different ocs.

This goes for Florent, he is the cooking oc, it’s his hobby and favorite activity for his wife and children joy because he is great at it.

Sometimes they joke he should retire as a guard and open his own place, Tataru approves of the idea.

Most other ocs and faves are either functional cooking for survival and the basic or will probably explode stuff if try to cook.

Exception is Blanchefleur with sweets, she makes excellent cakes and cookies her favorites but can manage most sweets, other food is okay but she enjoys more making tasty sweets.

[ak-illustrate]

Chimeran Legends - Being With You

[houserosaire]

Prompt #25: Call it a Day

“Don’t you think you should call it a day?” Honore asked.

No one else had troubled him at his practice with that question, though Silvaineaux had been aware at intervals that others were watching him. He swung the sword at the dummy again, concentrating on his form, on the ache in his weary arms, on the way the blood pounded in his ears, and the way the metal of the practice blade crashed against the mail on the unmoving dummy. If he fixed his attention hard enough on those things, if he kept the dummy and his blade ringing together loudly enough then surely he would stop hearing Florent’s death.

Or perhaps he might never stop hearing it. 

Every time he slowed for a moment, every time the rasp of his own breathing in his ears paused he could hear it: The snap, the broken cry, the crunch of metal and bone in merciless teeth. 

“Silvaineaux! I said you have to stop.” 

He paused, his shield arm dropping a little beneath a weight that had never been so heavy. His lungs were burning, He could taste blood in the back of his throat, in his mouth. He leaned over and spat, not surprised to see a small spatter of red on the stone. In the rasp of his own breath he heard the way Florent’s father had drawn in one sharp breath and then let it out as if the sight of his son’s body had been a blow to drive it from him. 

 Silvaineaux clenched his jaw and raised his sword again, focusing on form and precision and the way he needed it to be louder than the soft sound of a broken father's sobs for his only son. 

“Silvain! Stop!” Honore grabbed for him, fingers sliding off the plate on his arm but still throwing him off just enough that the blow landed awry.

It was too much. He drove the point of the blade against the stones at his feet, felt it glance and grind and then catch in the space between them. He put his shoulder into it, and then took his hand off the hilt to round on Honore. “I can’t stop!” He shouted and was surprised by the rasping roughness of his own voice, the way it almost cracked on the words. “Don’t you see that? I have to be good enough for both of us now.”

“You will not be good enough for anybody if you kill yourself in the practice yard.” Honore snapped, his eyes flashing with a rare display of the temper everyone always said his hair should entitle him to. “You have to stop. We’re going in.”

“I can’t.”

He swung at Honore, a wild desperate sort of blow that he regretted as soon as it began. He was surprised when Honore managed to catch his wrist, then simply pulled. His brother’s brief embrace was only a sense of pressure through his armor but Silvaineaux almost fell into it. The pressure tightened and he heard more than felt Honore’s palm slapping the back of his breastplate once then twice before he released him.

“You have to. We’re going in.” Honore said. “I’ll put your practice sword away.” A small grunt followed as Honore tugged at the blade embedded between the cobbles. “We’ll get it tomorrow.” He finally said. 

Silvaineaux wished he would shut up. 

And he wished he would keep talking because if he had to focus on Honore’s words he could stop hearing it. “I need to…”

Honore ducked under his shoulder and slung an arm around him as if he were wounded and needed the help making it to the doors. “You need to stop.” Honore said. “And a bath. You smell. You can go back to fighting tomorrow. You’re done for today.”

[michaelenthusiast]

thinking of them SO HARD.