#sparklelore

[sparkleonanon]

Fun fact: Despite not visible in the art, ✨ has a little deer-like tail most of the time. What about the rest of the time? Just as height is a suggestion so is form. They simply have whatever is comfy or convenient. Like their wings when traveling <3 They are so eldritch I love them.

[sparklecare-good-au]

me when the cinematics are parralleling

[sparkledeerfr]

for the ask meme: Lady and Santi; Samuel and Pietro

Oh man two of what could be considered ‘the most absolutely stubborn people who will go about their jobs until it literally kills them.’ The only other contestant nearing their ranks is Walter, who fights with Lady for supremacy.

As such they don’t tangle with each other often- their skillsets and jobs keep them well separate and busy, but of course Santi both appreciates Lady’s skills and the fact that she can keep the biggest and most destructive morons in check. He’d call it ‘if he had to pick someone to respect’. Lady is the shore upon which the other members of her science team break, and he’s well glad she’s there to at the very least keep them contained. He does not know of another person who could do this so consistently AND that could also patch you up.

This does not stop him from getting into a spat with her if she or another member of her team pick up and want to study something potentially dangerous, and he’s kept a private mental tab of the times he’s lost said fight when attempting to get it away from her.

She relents on occasion but it’s been well stacked in her favor. 

Unlike other members of the clan Pietro does not call on him nor does he wear the objects that allow Sam to manifest near him. 

Sam, for his part has tried to engage with Pietro person to person on occasion- which he will admit is both out of concern and private interest. The few times Pietro has responded with his actual voice (Sam is not great at the animalistic body language Piet tends to use) has both assured and kind of worried Sam. This is a creature sure of itself and it’s place in the world, with utterly no need for him. One or two of these conversations has left him shaken, though he is one to doubt himself.

Pietro for his part thinks Samuel is excellent to have around for the safety of the clan as a whole- he just doesn’t need his skills personally. He also knows well enough that no matter how stable an Arcane dragon seems they always have something, don’t they? Pietro sees the scars on Samuel’s best friend. It could happen again, and possibly to someone else.

[sparkledeerfr]

Warnings: None

(I’m tryin’ to get back into it okay. It’s a shortie)

--------

The Breach

It's a familiar enough scene to those in it- Adeline is sitting in one of the chairs in Mochi’s tent, sitting rock still as he applies the speciality mix of henna to her hands.

She has enough tattoos and chimes and ornaments, and indeed back up, but this mixture weaved by him and infused with burnt sage always makes her feel a little better, the delicate patterns and unknown words inked on her skin for a scant few weeks, the flowers lacing her knuckles. Mochi as always is mostly silent but precise, focusing on the work and making what few could.

“So I hate to ask you this,” Adeline starts, knowing aburbt speech won’t disrupt him, and indeed the flow of the mixture onto her wrist does not stop in the slightest, but his ear twitches to her. “But you’re the only one who might know so is Pietro...okay?”

She didn’t really want to push the issue with Grenfell. Gods knew the man would not so much lie as bluster and tell you everything but precisely what had been asked, but he was actually touchy with his child in a way she hadn’t seen before. It was though...well it was though Piet was one of the few things Gren genuinely loved, without reservation.

But really just looking at Pietro one couldn’t help but ask if maybe something sinister wasn’t goin’ on there.

“Back at my school,” Mochi said, voice calm and even and slightly soothing as always, not stopping the work. “We were told that if you trained in fleshweaving for an extended period of time, you may not wish to have children. This is because you significantly change your own body structure,” he looked up at this and a small smile appeared, not so much half heartedly as Mochi did not really do gestures of any kind that was not placid evenness. “I must tell you I thought it was just a rumor but obviously my opinions have...changed.”

“‘For an extended period of time’.” Adeline looked toward the tent flap, though she heard no one. It was more her own nervous energy. She didn’t like sitting still for long and always kept an eye on the doors. “Well Gren did that, didn’t he? So Piet’s just really kinda like that?”

“That he is,” Mochi replied. “And that we all are.” She quieted and watched for a moment, wondering at how steady his hands were, how he could trace those interlacing scripts and designs with such precision each time, not even needing to move or adjust the chunky henna slurry before it began to dry.

Mochi was always so precise and exacting- and he’d help with the smallest thing like a sewing error or a knitting project. Always unflappable, never angry, always doing the job ahead of him with the utmost of him no matter large or small.

It was perhaps Grenfell’s fault that she remembered that he too was a fleshweaver, and one with his nature...well if he wanted to do something…to a person...

She cleared her throat in an attempt to clear her thoughts. “So what made you want to start up Fleshweaving?” she asked. 

“I enjoy helping,” he said, and that his ear did not even flick towards her told her that he had perhaps caught onto her line of thinking. “If I can help in a way few can then so much the better. I like little things, Adeline- the sound of windchimes, the boiling of soup, the way the sun hits the clouds on particular mornings. I find joy in these, and good work. I don’t need anything grand if I can help a person stay warm, or gain feeling back in a hand.” He looks up again at this. “I’m sure you can understand that.”

“Yeah,” she replied. “Yeah I can.”

----

Adeline walked out from the tent with a gentle reminder from Mochi to watch her hands and to let it settle in fully, perhaps in the sun. He said that every time, but she looked out through the odd hole in the city wall- The Breach.

She heard the windchimes that had been hung, looked out over the fields of swaying wheat and grass and far beyond it towards the woods and stream. It was a good view, she thought. Peaceful and very Mochi. He’d chosen a good spot.

But her eyes went up to the stone work and noticed the hole did not look like it had been broken in by a siege weapon. Not so much broken as melted- a giant fissure in the near impenetrable wall of the Stone City. 

Something that could melt stone. Maybe a lot of fire could perhaps do it but...no. She turned back to the tent and opened it, Mochi barely glancing back up at her. “Hey, uh, weird question because I know the whole Weaver non-interference and non-violence thing but uh...would you ever participate in like...a battle of any kind?”

Mochi’s eyes lit up for just the barest of a second. “That is, perhaps, the great irony of my order,” he said, putting a small garden shovel carefully and exactly into its proper spot in a drawer. “We may be called upon to take down any member who, let’s say, gets out of hand. The only battle we fight would be against our siblings.” He turns his head and again there’s that small smile. He of course has followed her line of thinking as though he’s been waiting for her to ask. “Not that I’ve ever been called. It’s rare enough, though I do think on it more since moving here.”

-----

Adeline is still looking at The Breach when she feels a familiar form approach, and she doesn’t move as it carefully crawls up her back. It’s both warm and soft, like the feeling of a hairless cat, but this particular individual is much more hearty than he feels.

“Auntie?” he asks, several multi-colored eyes looking at her as two long tails wrap around her waist. His voice is odd for those who haven’t heard it before- precise and clipped when you expected something more growling and guttural. Her hand reaches up to scratch through his stolen mess of a mane and she knows he’s hoping that she wants to hunt something.

Pietro did so like a hunt. Always had since he could move his legs quick enough.

“You know that saying that you should beware the anger of a patient man?” Ade said and Pietro nodded. “I’m thinkin’ your dad pissed off a whole bunch of patient people a long time ago.”

Pietro’s voice was nothing like you’d expect, and so rare that few had heard it, but his laugh- his laugh was deep and wet and meaty, the smile of it going far past where his jaws should be and showing every inch of his many teeth. It was something very slightly unhinged, monstrous, and joyful.

Yeah, she thought, still petting him as he nuzzled into her neck with his nose. He might be different but he was still his father’s son. He thought that to be great fun.

[sparkledeerfr]

Excerpts from Harper’s Diary

The story of what happened to two kids from a small house, as told by their lifelong butler/caretaker.

Warnings: Child death, death mentions (neither graphic).

My work with the Whitmore family has thus far been quite easy and enjoyable. One never knows when taking a new position how exactly things will work out, but I do like taking chances with smaller upstarts such as this.

That’s not technically true- Lady Mendoza apparently comes from an illustrious lineage, since fallen on hard times as such things are wont to do, looking to reclaim some position in society by marrying a man of good standing but with little wealth to his name. One of those families that likes to hide how close they are to bankruptcy. No doubt the in laws may come around should Mendoza succeed in righting the ship. The decision to settle south, right on the border of her home flight and Plague is a bit odd, but perhaps she intends to keep her head down and out of the way of more powerful houses.

I myself prefer staying back, helping where I can, seeing how things work out. They seem a good match, and both their backgrounds means they are more grateful for ‘the help’ than others of their peerage might be. At least they hardly seem the type to be angry should they find this diary.

---

A first nest! Of course Mendoza had the good sense to wait until they were fully settled, the prospects of money in place and some saved despite Regent’s (and such an odd name, perhaps his parents had always intended for him to be a placeholder? No matter) insistence on spending it on luxury items. Always need to keep up appearances with him.  

Due to my condition I stayed far away from the eggs, and will do so when they hatch. Young children are so susceptible to even the slightest change in magic, and should anyone find out about my ailment, should anything happen to the children, I know who will be blamed. The Lord and Lady might understand, being more educated, but the rumors always do start flying and it doesn’t take long for backwards notions to become ‘truth’.

‘Vampire’. Please. As though I’m some sort of blood drinking monster.

----

Sad news- it seems none of the children made it. There is a thought among the staff that being so close to Plague while not being of that flight themselves may have led to some problems, but no one knows for certain.

Mendoza of course is trying to keep a cheerful face and things running, though I can see the worry. I did do a little digging and searching- no foul play at least. Perhaps just poor luck. They’re both young and in good health, they can try again.

---

More sad news- only one child in the nest, and they did not even fully hatch. Next time I will be less cautious and try and find out more directly what is going on. It seems I can hardly make things worse.

---

The problem was more fully and quickly discovered than I expected, though again through sad means. The issue is not with disease, perhaps closer to a genetic fault, though not one of the usual ones: the children have a great overabundance of magic, simply too much to allow their mortal bodies to keep up.

The poor thing was oozing pink and red, pure concentrated energy right through her mouth and nose. She and her brother perished within two days.

At least...well at least I can be of service. Hopefully Mendoza will not take my suggestion poorly- offering to leech energy from children can come off as quite sinister.

---

Another singular child, one I kept close to and was there for his birth, the Lord and Lady eyeing me not with suspicion but a sort of worried hope. The birth seemed blessed from the start- a boy with strange Plague eyes and the spiral form of a distant relation. Incredibly lucky.

But of course I was considered lucky- the wildclaw boy from a wildclaw mother and a skydancer father. Strange dark eyes instead of whites. Lucky. Blessed. And cursed.

As I held the boy in my hands and a nurse wiped off the remains of the egg I realized- he was like me. There was no magic whatsoever. He would live but…

Did I somehow do this?

----

The boy is growing, and the parents do not seem to blame me in the slightest. In fact they seem well relieved, even if he’ll never be able to cast anything, even if he’ll have to leech energy from others to stay alive, even if it means he can never really be alone for long.

He is alive, they have a son and heir who is growing into a healthy young man. That’s all that matters to them, and they thank me for helping solve their ‘deficiencies’ (a thing said in private, a confession- poor things overly blame themselves).

They want another child, and they want me to keep close by again. I don’t have the heart to tell them no, nor to tell them what rumors will surely circulate in the future.

An essence ‘vampire’ noble. Well. At least he will be difficult to ignore.

---

Another singular egg, this time a girl, and this time with the ‘fault’ of the other children. She began coughing and shaking not long after being born, but with me around to leech some of it off she seems to have quieted into a more healthy baby. At least I can buy her time.

Her brother loves her already- they are hardly apart. Hopefully he will not lose her, and perhaps they can balance one another out.

Far too much and far too little. Perhaps there is such a thing as destiny.

---

They are both growing nicely, and one would hardly suspect that either of them have an ailment. The boy has taken to nobility quickly, though I must admit his attitude leaves something to be desired at times. He doesn’t have the patience or forgiveness of his parents, seems to have forgotten the hard work they put in to make sure he grew up wealthy and with a name.

Perhaps it is the children of other houses that he hangs around with at times influencing him. I must admit I also worry that he’s taken to his condition a little too well- yes, it can be used offensively, but he seems to consider himself better for having it. I worry that with no one (especially myself) around to watch him, he bullies others. Why ask for what you can take?

His sister on the other hand has thankfully gone in the other direction. She’s willful but kind, almost always outdoors with the animals, her nose in a book. You’d think she was a stable girl looking to up her station through education. They still balance one another out well, and hopefully will continue to do so.

---

The boy and girl had an awful falling out. It seems he thinks her wanting to seek education elsewhere, to teach somewhere, is a personal slight against him. I know she has been teaching others in private- she is a powerful creature when she chooses to be, a mix of Plague and Arcane- but actually leaving was a bridge too far for him.

I do not think this is pure selfishness on his part, whatever else I think of the boy. I believe he genuinely loves his sister and thought they would always be together. He is afraid to be alone.

---

There is something wrong, but I do not know what.

It started with the girl’s sigils- easily spotted glowing a reddish pink, popping up all over the manor. When asked, she responded that they were nothing and not to worry about it, but something in her voice and face were off. I wanted to trust her, and for her to trust me as she always had, so I left the matter alone, insisting that she could talk to me about anything.

But the situation has only gotten worse, they are near everywhere now, growing in size, scaring you half to death when you round a corner at night and see glowing runes nearly in your face. She looks worn as though from worry, lack of sleep, or both. She has taken to carrying a clock around with her, glancing at it at all hours of the day.

I have heard no rumors, no stirrings from nearby houses, no nosy cooks or housekeepers with an inkling of what is causing her to do this, as though she’s preparing for something. There are always casual threats of course, especially further to the south, but even with a smaller force such as we have it would be foolish for some band of raiders to attempt something.

Her brother has confronted her as well, so at least I can be assured that the blame for this does not lie with him.

---

I still do not know exactly what happened or why it occurred, but I will be writing in as much detail as I can lest I forget anything later.

She was tired, exhausted, sitting on a bench and drinking a near full glass of brandy and smoking a cigar. I knew that she had picked up the drinking habit heavily the prior week, but again did not know the reason why. She looked like she had been fighting something by herself- worry aging her to the point that she looked older than her brother.

I sat by her, determined again to at least attempt to get something out of her, but she surprised me by talking first. “I tried, Harper,” she said, staring ahead at nothing. “I’ve tried everything in all kinds of ways, but there’s no point. It ends the same way, so I’m going to at least save you and Ambros.”

“My love, what are you-” I started, completely unsure of what she was talking about, but knowing that she was no liar. Whatever this was, it was important, and true at least to her.

“Harper in two minutes you’re going to get Ambros and go out through the south door,” she said, reciting with a dead voice. “Two men are going to try and stop you from going forward. I need you to kill them and keep going, and you don’t stop, okay? You don’t stop for anything and you get my brother out of here.”

“And what about-”

“One minute fourty-five.”

“What about you?”

“I’m going to go north, and you’re not going to try and find me, not for a long time,” at this she looked at me, those eyes that could be mistaken for plague or arcane pink depending on the light devoid of their usual warmth.

“Love, what has caused this?”

“One minute,” she said, glancing down to the ever present clock. “I know you can do this, Harper, I’ve seen what you can do when you decide to stop putting a clamp on that ‘condition’ of yours. You’re the best to take care of Ambros. You can teach him.”

“When did you see me-”

“Again and again,” she said, standing and looking back to me. “You’re a good man, you know. Sorry I didn’t appreciate you more.”

“And you a good child,” I replied, not knowing what else to say.

There was an explosion, screaming, but she just looked down to that clock and then back to me.

I did as she asked.

---

The boy blames his sister now, for everything. I do not know what else to tell him aside from that I feel it is untrue. I do not know how to comfort him at the death of his parents, his house, his future. It's all ash, aside from me, and I hardly feel a worthy substitute but at least I can teach him how to survive.

I hope his sister is well. I hope I will see her again.

Somewhere in the southern Icefield…

...a man enters what used to be a barn, converted now into a small living space. He clicks on the light and a woman looks up from a glass covered desk, bleary eyed, hands around a clock. “Cake,” Ruthers says,  somewhere between a snap and a growl. “You were supposed to pick up that feed shipment hours ago.”

She stares at him, eyes half hidden by unkempt hair, her long since past caring at the state of it. “Whoops,” she replies, trying not to roll her eyes. “I’ll get it in a minute.”

“Once real winter starts-”

“I know, I know,” she says, waving a hand and looking back down at the clock. “Can’t go mistiming things.”

[sparkledeerfr]

The Castle

Warnings: None

Let’s get this plot point a rollin’ so everyone can just kinda stare at Gren for the next three parts wondering ‘why dude’. 

“Ya’ll know you look like two spooked cats?” Hawk said behind them, and the fact that they both jumped meant that he was right. Adeline stopped for a moment, Katsu beside her doing the same, her trying to reason out why she was nervous.

Well there was plenty of reason for it, even though she knew they weren’t in any real danger. Back when there was just Can Town, The Castle was always home to the largest and most twisted beasts- you damn sure didn’t go in there unless you wanted to meet the angry cousin of a dracolich somewhere in the dark halls. There was also the fact that now she knew the place was made by Gren, which...yeah, that on its own probably told you enough. There was going to be some hidden stuff that you absolutely did not want to touch.

That and Nimue had never asked Adeline to meet her inside, in her office. They’d met out in the wide opening lobby the few times Nimue had wanted something, but aside from that? No. Adeline left the place well enough alone and let them keep to their business, and Nimue left Ade to hers. It was an arrangement that had lasted years.

“So…” Katsu asked. She could feel nervous energy radiating from him, though he didn’t outwardly show it. Katsu didn’t like new things, surprises or uncertainty, and usually she was the one reassuring him. That she was wary was doing him no favors. “Which way?”

“Just up the-” Adeline started when she looked around the space they’d just walked into, a smaller though still wide indoor courtyard area. There were supposed to be stairs spiraling up to the next floor at the back on either side of the room, but there was just one set of slick black ones.

Ah yeah. This place still hadn't settled yet. Great. “Guess we try there,” she said with a sigh, trotting over to the stairs and then pausing and waiting for Katsu, Hawk following behind them with a sort of bemused grin his face. He liked the little things around here, like the fact that he knew Ade could fly up those stairs with those wildclaw legs, but instead she'd shoulder against Katsu to compensate for his limp (he’d get grumpy if she helped any more than that). Everyone kind of unconsciously did things for each other. It was adorable.

“So, what do you think?” Adeline asked Katsu as they made their way down a hall, her glancing up and around at the space. Katsu knew she was mostly asking to take his mind off things, though she would listen to what he said.

“Absolutely stupid, like most things that bright idiot made,” Katsu replied. “No defensive points at all- everything’s wide open. It’d put you on even ground with anyone sieging. I’m betting there’s also entrances to the tunnels.” He stopped and looked to Ade, who nodded. “So that means you have escape routes and obvious points of entry.”

“He don’t seem the type to worry about things like that,” Hawk said.

“Not at all. Suppose that’s my job,” Katsu said with a hint of amusement. “Though confusion would be a definite advantage here…..along with said bright idiot.”

They turned a corner and Adeline paused when she saw Nimue standing in the hall waiting for them. She didn’t have on her full set of armor but there were still golden bracers at her wrists and armored boots, the rest of the outfit pale gold silk. She always looked like she was backlit, and as she turned and smiled gently at them Adeline began to feel self conscious. “Hawk,” she whispered as the man stopped at her left side. “Do not.”

He grinned and touched his broad-brimmed hat before nodding at Nimue. “Ma’am.” Honestly what did Ade think he would...okay yes he definitely would be hitting on that woman if he hadn’t just been forbidden. She was a tall thing, broad, and had two guardian horns decorated with gold cresting from pale pink dreadlocks. Bit heavy on the Light symbolism there, but he wasn’t one to fuss.

“Thank you for coming, Adeline,” Nimue said, gesturing to a doorway as Hawk tried his best not to snort at how dang tiny Ade looked next to her. “If you two wouldn’t mind waiting outside?”

“We’ll entertain ourselves,” Hawk said as Katsu did something like an irritated grunt, putting his back to the stone wall.

The door shut behind the women and Katsu muttered: “If she’s not out in five minutes we leave.”

“Bit paranoid, aintcha?” Hawk asked, mimicking his posture and taking a bent hand rolled cigarette from his jacket.  “Think we can smoke in here?”

“I am,” Katsu said, taking out a pack and pulling one out with his mouth. “Besides, I’m not the only one that’s paranoid.” He pointed to something as the hand went back to fetch a lighter, and Hawk squinted, trying to see what he was on about.

Ah, there it was. Black smoke in the corner, difficult to spot in the dark hallway. “How the hell does he do that, anyway?” Hawk asked, watching it curl around the ceiling though the man himself had not shown up.

“No idea, but he can piss off because we were invited,” Katsu said, eye narrowed at the smoke as though it would answer. It didn’t move away from its position. “I’d also bet you lunch that Crow is hanging out somewhere around here, not that I mind.”

“Noooooo…” came a small voice a few feet away. It was hard to tell where he was hidden because it seemed this place was nothing but shadows aside from the tiny sconces that did little to keep the dark at bay. “Maaayyybbbeeee….”

“Huh,” Hawk said to no one in particular. Katsu had gone quiet, staring at the ground and Hawk could tell that he’d done some mental calculations of what would happen if things went poorly, and even with Crow as added back up he wasn’t liking the numbers. Hawk didn’t much fuss on it, nor did he say that if Ade had really expected something she wouldn’t have brought him. She wouldn’t risk Katsu. Himself? Sure, probably as payback for the scrapes that he’d dragged her into over the years, which was fair enough.

Hawk looked back to Katsu, who was still silently staring and smoking. Probably wouldn’t like being asked about the arm. Ice Pop knew Hawk was tired about people asking about the left side of his face, and he’d usually answer ‘I was being a stubborn cuss.’  Wasn’t like it was a lie. “So uhhhh…” he started, grasping for something to talk about that wouldn’t irritate the man next to him, and quickly realizing most of his opening talking points were stories and questions meant to put people off balance.

“Why do you call everyone ‘Shorty’?” Katsu asked, turning Hawk into the one put off balance. Katsu didn’t generally initiate the conversation. “You’re taller than most everyone else. What’s the point?”

“It’s funny, is all. Ade’s the Shortest Stack just ‘cause,” Hawk said, nodding his head in acknowledgement of a point made. “And don’t ask if I have Gaoler blood, because I’ll answer you the same as everyone else.”

“Which is?”

“One- I’d like have some Gaoler in me, if you know what I mean, and two- never compare me to a cop ever again.”

Katsu snorted a short laugh and Hawk grinned. Hey, a little headway was better than nothing. “You like being aggressively dumb, don’t you?”

“Do indeed,” he said, then paused and looked up at the noise of the door opening. Adeline walked out, hands in the pockets of her coat and seeming slightly dazed. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Well...” she started, then breathed out and looked to the ceiling. “First, guess I gotta find a place for Nim, Jamison, and two kids and second…”

“Yes?” Katsu asked.

“We...uhhh….I guess we have The Castle now?”

[sparkledeerfr]

Nope

Leading a city mostly made of your friends sounds easy, until you remember that friends sometimes like to be jerks for the fun of it. 

Warnings: None. 

“West, I really don’t think that he should be in here,” Adeline said indicating Chirok, the iron creeper’s heavy footsteps giving off a worrying ‘chink’ against the stone as they walked.

“He’ll be fine,” West said, Chirok’s blue glass eye moving around and taking in the space in a way one could call curious, or maybe analytical. “If he breaks anything you know who’ll be fixing it.”

“Yeah, true,” Adeline shrugged. There was very little point in arguing with him when he was on alert status. He didn’t trust this place and until he settled he’d be about as fun as arguing with Walt, which was to say you might as well try and convince a brick wall to move out of your way. “So what’d you find?”

“It’s more…” West paused, trying to think of exactly how to phrase it without giving her a hint. “Visually interesting than anything.”

“As long as it's not more nightma-” she started when Sparks came around a corner, saw the two of them and started making an excited keening noise, waving both her hands. “What?”

“Look, look what we found out!” Sparks said, walking over to where a brick had been taken carefully out of the wall. “West, take off your glasses.”

“Must we?” he asked.

“Yes nerdlord, do it,” Sparks said, reaching into the hole in the wall as West sighed and removed his heavily tinted sunglasses. “Now look at him. Watch.” Adeline looked to West as the lights above them shut off.

She could still see his glowing yellow eyes like two small lamplights, Chirok’s a dull blue behind him. The hallway was dark enough to obscure anything else.

“Pfftttt,” Sparks said, bursting into a laugh and flicking the lights on and off above them. “It’s so good! Like where’s West?” The lights turned off. “There he is!”

“At least I can see in the dark,” West said, the eyes narrowing and Adeline covered her mouth trying not to laugh at him. He looked like an irritated cat. “For example can you tell what finger I’m currently holding up? Because I can.”

“If you weren’t such a baby about the tunnels we would have found this out years ago,” Sparks said

“Oh no,” West said as the lights turned back on, his voice unmoved from placid evenness while he replaced his sunglasses. “How have we survived?”

“You show her the boss room yet?” Sparks asked him, tilting her head to indicate Adeline.

“We're headed there right now.”

---

It was a huge room, almost like a hallway the size of a whole building floor entirely made of either polished obsidian or black marble, flanked on either side by windows encased in decorative black wrought iron. Looking up there were giant chandeliers, again black wrought iron and dangling with crystals that reflected light onto the ceiling. It mimicked the night sky, and she could make out vague shapes of the few things in the room, rather like a foggy mirror. At the center near the back there was a large obsidian seat.

Adeline tossed a rock along the floor, sending it skidding and bouncing over the tiles. “Who wants to bet one of those tiles has a trap if you step on it?” she asked as the rock slid to a halt.

“Oh yeah, one definitely does,” Sparks nodded. “You can totally picture Gren sitting in that chair, waiting for someone like a creeper.” She paused and spread her arms wide, flicking her hands outward and mimicking him. “‘ Hello and welcome to my castle. You made it this far good for you.’’’

“He would.”

“He super would. That's why I'm callin’ it the boss fight room.”

Adeline noticed West pinching the bridge of his nose. He occasionally got headaches from bright light, but the castle seemed perfectly suited for him to be comfortable in that respect. “You two adorable hicks that I love very much,” he said, taking his hand away from his face. “That's not a chair, it's a throne. It's a huge and empty throne room.”

“Oh,” Sparks said, looking back into the space. “Well, I mean still works that-” she started, then stopped and inhaled a breath, reaching over to slap Adeline gently on the shoulder with both hands repeatedly. “We have a castle and a throne! Let's make you queen!”

“No,” Adeline replied, glancing from Sparks to West, who had a barely noticeable smile on his face and his eyes slightly narrowed. “You are not plotting right now. No. I will leave you all to fend for yourselves. I will screw right back off into the wastes.”

“My,” West said, the smile spreading just slightly. “Not listening to the will of the populace? That sounds very queenly of you.”

“Nope nope nope,” Adeline said, turning around and moving quickly past Chirok, who scooted politely aside, or as much as his massive frame could manage in the hall.  

“I'm going to put together a vote!” he called after her as she walked in a direct line away from them.

“Yeah, fine!” she called back. “Go for it! Look forward to reading the write ins!”

Sparks waited until she was far enough away, which was quite a distance considering how sound bounced around the cold stone hallways of this place and how good Adeline’s hearing was. “We doin’ this, right?” she asked West.

“That we are.”

“We gotta talk your boyyyfraaand into it,” she said, leaning on his shoulder and grinning up at him.

“He's not my boyfriend,” West said, walking away and down the hall, her trotting after, Chirok taking a moment to examine the throne room before following.

“But you like him.”

“I do. That's why he's not my boyfriend.”

“Yeah, you are garbage at that stuff. Getting better, though! Proud of you!”

---

“So,” Viltri started as West walked up to him, Viltri sitting on a couch in the office with his usual companion, Iosefka. “What exactly are you planning?” He’d gotten to know West about as well as Adeline over the course of their...well friendship right now. It was tough to tell with the black skydancer exactly where you lay with him at any given moment, even with Viltri’s empathy gifts. That mostly just gave him more of a hint, but he knew that West and Sparks had been gathering signatures to start a vote. They could be rather organized for such a disorganized bunch, though perhaps that’s why they had so many clear and detailed little laws. It left very little room for ambiguity, and if it did they would surely argue it to death.

“I’d like your help with this,” West replied, pulling a small sheet of paper from his coat and handing it to Viltri. “You are much better at precision in language than I am.”

Before Viltri could look over the words Iosefka snorted and put a hand to her face, giggling into it. “Oh man, we have to do that.” That her other hand was around Viltri’s shoulders he didn’t even notice anymore, but he glanced to her before reading. So it was likely some sort of prank, as she enjoyed those. “She’s gonna be so mad,” Iosefka said in a small voice, still giggling though trying not to.

Viltri looked over the proposal and glanced back up to West, eyes narrowed. “A bit of revision could help, but do you really want to…?” he trailed off.

“Adeline thinks we’re too chaotic as a group to get anything done, but she forgets something,” West said, the small twitch of a smile on his face. “We’re good at organizing for three things: Parties, helping other people, and very especially for embarrassing her.”

“And that’s the entire reason?”

“Is there any better reason?”

“No,” Iosefka squeaked.

[sparkledeerfr]

Other people: Work for years to gain power, notoriety, and a title.

Adeline: WHY GUYS

(Yup, it’s the slight continuation of this. No warnings.)

“OKAY,” Adeline said, putting both hands on the podium and gripping it, trying not to let her frustration boil over as she stared down at the papers in front of her. They had gathered in the city square to hear the results of the vote, a thing that rarely happened, and there had never been this many people that had decided to show up.

That they had set out folding chairs and a drink and snack table and were now all looking up at her, trying not to giggle, told her they knew exactly what they’d done, and if one person wasn’t directly involved they still wanted to watch this. Even August and Jesse were hanging out at the back, clearly entertained.

“First of all I’d like to remind everyone what happened with the last two votes,” Adeline started. “‘What Should Our Emblem Be’ had the top three picks of, and I quote: ‘One) A Bagel. Two) A Butt, and Three) A Nice Butt.’” There were scattered giggles across those gathered, maybe from what she said and maybe because they knew she was mad at them and thought it was hilarious. Probably that one. “Our last attempt to name the overall city ended up with five people voting, and the top result was ‘Robot Moron Empire’.”

She paused to lean on the podium and look out over the gathered crowd, most looking back up at her with a smile, waiting. Might as well get this over with. “So how in the hell,” she paused again when she heard an ‘oooo’ from someone at the swear. “With sixty-seven percent participation-”

“Missed it by two!” Sparks called out.

“Did this get voted in?” Adeline continued. She glanced to West who was casually leaning back with his arm slung over the back of the chair, flanked by Sparks, Viltri and Sefka. “Granted there were two votes for ‘No’,” she said in a lower voice, knowing those two came from Katsu and Walter respectively. “And three for ‘water slide’ but…”

“That was us,” August said, leaning over to talk to Jesse in a lower voice. She nodded and patted his shoulder. “Woulda been neat, is all I’m saying.”

“Stop stalling and read it!” West said in a rare moment of him raising his voice.

“Fine, fine,” Adeline muttered, staring down at the paragraph in front of her. “‘In regards to what should be done about The Castle, it shall be put in place that from the moment of this being voted in and read, that it will serve as Adeline’s new office space. Adeline will live in The Castle and will henceforth be granted the title of….Queen,” she faltered at the word and looked up with a sigh, everyone attempting to sit still and waiting for her to finish. “Failure to do so on the part of Adeline will result in new titles and honorifics being added on a once per week basis until this law is complied with. Examples include ‘Empress’, ‘Pope’ and ‘Blessed Holy Wanderer.’ More elaborate items of clothing and headwear will also be purchased in accordance said timeline, the money coming from the account listed in...you know what I’m skipping that part.”

“Time starts now by the way!”

“‘The Castle will be used as Adeline sees fit, including continuing the allowance of those already in said castle and office to reside there or move. PS- We voted this in so you either have to do it or you can ignore us and admit laws are bullshit. Ha ha got you now, sucker’,” she finished, rubbing the bridge of her nose with a finger. “Who the hell wrote this?”

West raised a hand. “Viltri helped,” he said when Ade’s eyes landed on him.

“I- I just added a few things,” Viltri replied, trying not to stammer at being singled out. “To make it more clear, you understand.”

“Yep...yep I do,” Adeline said, nodding. “Well, I’m going to take a few minutes to think about this. Thank you all for coming and participating, I hate all of you except apparently like twelve of you. You’re welcome to stay and chat or drink.”

“Oh man, we get to do a castlewarming and coronation party!” Sparks said, raising both her hands as Adeline walked away and into the winding streets of the city, intent on finding Walter. She didn’t notice that one figure raised from his seat and followed.

----

“Addeeeee,” Grenfell said, watching her eye a building that she was about to climb up. She paused and turned around.

“Yeah, Gren?” she said, sighing and reaching out for Pietro, who climbed from his father’s shoulders and into her arms. It was kind of weird holding him, as he felt somewhat...soft, like a hairless animal covered in strange adornments, but he liked being petted. “He’s still kinda skinny. Has he been eating?” Adeline asked, looking down and scratching gently on his neck.

“Yes, he eats quite a bit,” Grenfell said. “Remember I had to apologise for it.”

“He ate someone’s pet,” Adeline replied, continuing to scratch as Pietro’s odd sickly purr started up. He was directly in between ‘kind of sweet’ and ‘something that might burrow directly into your midsection’, but thus far giving him affection when he wanted had worked. “He might have a blockage. That happens with animals sometimes.”

“Look he’s fine, and that person should maybe have thought about teaching their stupid fangar to run faster,” Grenfell said, snarling and showing those long fangs he had. “You’re distracting me. Shut up a second and let me think of what I was going to say.” She waited, knowing him snapping was irritation at having lost his train of thought, not any actual anger directed at her. “Ah! Yes! I wanted to tell you that I’d be very happy to formally give ownership of the city over to you, since I technically built it. That combined with Nimue releasing the castle will make everything official. A short line but a long history here, one might say.”

“That’s...” she said, crossing her arms under Pietro and holding him like a baby. He noticed that she seemed drained and tired as she looked up and closed her eyes. “My problem isn’t the legality or lineage or whatever.”

“Then,” he said, tilting his head, not understanding. “What is? Most people would be very happy to be royalty, and it could be fun.”

“Gren,” she said, taking out a hand and clutching her fingers slightly in irritation as her voice changed to a sort of raised whisper, the tone people used when they wanted to yell but didn’t want anyone else to actually hear them. “I have no idea how to run a damn kingdom! None! I have no training! I don’t know how any of that works! And neither does anyone else aside from West, who won’t tell me because he thinks it’s funny! Everyone’s lucky I know how to goddamn read considering my background, and now I’ve just gotta stumble through figuring out how to be royalty? It's not some joke- everyone expects things from a Queen and I’m not it.” Grenfell pulled his head back slightly, assessing what she said for a moment as Adeline touched the hand to her forehead. “Look, you didn’t-” she started when he began laughing.

The laughter continued for longer than probably necessary, him bending over and putting a hand on a knee. “That’s it? That’s the problem?” he said in between gasps as though he had to get his breath back. Pietro’s stolen dog ears perked as he watched this play out.

“Yeah, I mean,” she said, tucking the hand back under Piet. “There’s a huge difference between being some resort town and being a kingdom. It's a whole different game and ...I don’t know if I can play it. I don’t want to put everyone in danger.”

“My, I forget how limited people’s thinking is,” Gren said, straightening himself. “Don’t you get it, Adeline? It's all made up! Rules, laws, formality, it's all a game like you said. Do you think the gods descended and declared what the proper fork to use is?”

“I...” Adeline paused, bouncing Pietro nervously. “I guess not?”

“Everyone’s stuck in a little box, hoping that the other person won’t figure out that they’re not holding all the right cards. They say things like ‘When I rule’, never thinking that they should destroy the rules, keeping that power structure that they hate intact and thinking themselves better than the last fool in the slot. Even I gained the title of King, through no effort and with no one to rule, because people want to quantify things. It's all fake, Adeline,” he reached out and touched her on the shoulder. “Do you know why I am so very proud of my son? He was born knowing this. There are no rules to being a person, or a people, and there are no rules that will save you in the end. You make up your own game and then everyone else has to play it if you tell them to. The more you put them off balance the more you reveal their flaws instead of your own.”

“That’s...weirdly inspiring. Thanks,” Adeline said, looking down to Pietro. Yeah, she could definitely see what he was talking about. “I guess I just don’t want to disappoint people, or offend someone.”

“Please,” he said, waving a hand. “There are tyrants of all stripes all across the globe, and they don’t often stay up at night worrying about such things. I think your particular brand of leadership would be refreshing rather than irritating. No matter how hard you push your morality would stop you far before someone else would.”

“Even if Etzel sometimes gets mad that I eat with my hands when I’m not supposed to?”

“See? That’s fun. I want to see what game you come up with.”

---

She walked back to the office, intent on taking at least the night to mull things over.

She hated that stupid castle. It was a huge nightmare of a building, one Grenfell couldn’t keep and one that each time she looked up at it reminded her of what would happen if she failed. She’d probably end up like Nimue had- angry, holing herself up and blaming herself for what had happened to her friends and charges. There was nothing good about the place, really, and now she was expected to live in it? Maybe she could talk them out of that after a week or so.

Adeline paused in her thoughts when she saw March walking up to her. Alone, which was unusual, aside from the times when he’d get bored and want to spar for fun. It had never been particularly fun on her end, but he was definitely teaching her how to take a punch, and maybe one day she’d actually win.

Well. Probably not, but it was good practice. He wasn’t doing his normal fast paced walk towards her if that’s what he wanted. “Yeah bud, what’s up?” she asked him. March stopped about a foot away from her, crossing his arms and tilting his head.

Usually that meant he wanted to know something. He raised a hand and slowly signed out: “Queen now?”

She let out another irritated and defeated sigh. It seemed that’s all she was doing tonight. “I...I don’t know. I guess?” He was just standing there, head tilted at the slightest angle. “Look if I do become a Queen, I promise that if I ever get out of hand I fully expect you to break my arms. In fact I’d want you to.”

Still standing there, arms crossed. “Arms and legs?” she tried. Nope, no change. “Okay...everything except my skull and neck?”

He nodded, raising a hand again to sign out: “Enforcer?” before pointing to himself.

“I….if you want to?” she said as a squeak. He probably did know how ranks and titles worked more than she did. “What does an enforcer do, exactly?”

“Hit people for you,” he signed. “I will do that until I do not like who you ask me to hit.”

“Deal,” she said with a smile. 

[sparkledeerfr]

Some sketchy mess of world/city building! This is just, like, a lot of rambling on how the place is laid out and little things. Thought this might be good for dragon organization day.

Overview map! Definitely not to scale.

(More rambling and pictures below ofc)

Purple portions are kind of free for all, with the darker purple being the northern portion where most of the ghosts hang out. Definitely not the place you want to pop into the tunnels. If you ever get lost most people know to look for the ‘wheel spokes’, aka the larger interior walls or roads.

The building by the north gate is Ade’s office/the crash pad for a good portion of people. The eastern purple section is mostly taken over by Bardsey and Demo’s orchards and plant growing. There’s also Mochi’s tent, the Breech, Morley’s cart and the giant bone unicorn statues.

Blue south corner is The Quarter (see it’s a quarter of the city hurf hurf), complete with the main casinos, housing for workers/hotels, large kitchen buildings for food prep, and open areas for parties/festivals/travelling traders. The green portion is the Bone Garden and the Stone City’s interior lake known as The Strix.

Red is where Can Town is slowly being absorbed into the Stone City, and though the place is getting smaller most people are loathe to fully abandon it. The red portion definitely has some holdovers, and you’ll see more metal siding patching or keeping up crumbling stonework. This area houses Prizma’s, The Workshop, and Lady’s main clinic.

The main front gate, again not to scale but I tried. The skulls are Ink’s houndskulls keeping watch, and the glass is a Dan invention meant to warn of anything too magical being brought through or nearing the gate.

They accidently work as flashbangs, though. Please do not touch.

The exterior wall isn’t laid out quite right for anyone that knows city/defensive planning. There are no watch towers or real places to be behind cover on top of it- it’s just giant slabs of stone.

The messiest sketch by far but this is the Breech- an odd hole in the wall where the people who tend to the fields/animal herds come in. Mochi’s tent and garden are directly by it, and there’s a large pile of stone slabs partially hidden by the tent. They’re there in case The Breech should need to suddenly be closed and yeah, Mochi can handle that.

Trading carts: there’s only a few of them because they’re slightly expensive and Jack gets real defensive about ‘other people doing his work’. Pulled by a team of anywhere from 4-8 iron golems (seen here in slightly passive mode). Thanks to the weight each of the golems can pull these things can carry quite a lot and could probably substitute for a tank in a pinch. 

The golems don’t appear to have bridals or any way to steer them until the driver gets in the seat with a special enchanted device (usually a ring), causing reins to suddenly appear. This is mostly an anti-theft feature, but golems that have been used for a while can tell their owner and will simply refuse to move for anyone else.

You can always tell Jack’s personal cart by the tent on the top where Peoria keeps lookout, and by the fact that it is probably full of hidden compartments and ‘upgrades’ from West.

Anyway hope you found this neat! Happy lair tab day!

[sparkledeerfr]

Mom Said No

The Quarter takes care of most of its own business, with the understanding that it’s to follow the laws.

Which means sometimes Neko decides that just means ‘plausible deniability’.

Warnings: Implied abuse and death, but who cares about that dude.

It was the annual spring marketplace, one of Neko’s favorite times of year. There was no chill in the air, the heat hadn’t yet settled in, and there was a cooler breeze that tended to wipe away the humidity that naturally came with Plague. She’d wished that Belladonna had saw fit to come with her as she weaved around the stalls set in the open courtyards, the various traders, food sellers and buyers moving around each other in the packed space. Even in one of her more demure walking dresses people tended to glance up and get out of her way, though she ignored this and focused on how proud she was to have seen this place grow with a feeling like one assessing a well tended garden.

Ah well, Neko thought, eyeing a flower stall and moving over to it with what she hoped had not been an overly obvious smile that the seller had caught. She had been rebellious enough in her youth, though she had hoped that Bells would grow out of that particular phase. Neko would’ve bought her anything she asked for if only she’d come, and why spend time with a man who seemed to speak only in insults?

Neko tried to push that from her mind in order to just enjoy the day- the pennants, bright colors and mix of wonderful smells all around her, and looked over the flower bunches. There was something sort of satisfying about buying a little bunch or two all twisted in twine, displayed in wicker baskets versus simply ordering them, a sort of farmgirl or wistful notion. She was about to search through the lavender to find the best bunch when she noticed someone standing about a dozen feet away, someone even harder to miss than herself- Snowblood, in that thick oiled leather jacket and hat, hair falling far past her shoulders and obscuring a face mixed with scars and a red smoke coloration that made it difficult to tell exactly what was a former wound. There was something solid about Snow, like everything else faded into the background when you looked directly at her.

Neko immediately stood and walked over to her. Snow knew her boss’ preference, and wouldn’t be bothering her if it was nothing. “Something wrong?” Neko asked in a lower voice, glancing around, though she couldn’t see anything immediate. Snow jerked her head to the right, indicating for her to follow, which of course she did.

They weaved past people and stalls, Neko glancing occasionally as they passed to people or vendors, both eyeing them over and to get an idea of what she might like to buy, but as soon as her vision left them her mind went to whatever task Snow was interested in. Snow walked in between two tents, stepping over the ropes tied to spikes in the ground, and into the back areas.

Soon enough she stopped just behind a tent and jerked her head again. Neko scanned the area and then saw a gap between a tent and a stall that showed directly into the back of a food vendor’s, with black iron grills spewing smoke. There were two people working back there...two skinny people. Working a food stall.

Neko’s eyes narrowed and Snow grinned, pulling a thin fawn colored cigar from a pocket and putting it to her mouth as her boss continued assessing. Neko noticed faded scars, cuts, and bruises barely hidden under worn clothing. Both of them also wore metal bracelets and things that could be necklaces if you didn’t look too hard, but also resembled collars. A taller, much more healthy looking man came past to grab the finished food, and you could see the two duck slightly each time he did.

“That what I think it is?” Snow asked, her voice always kind of a low scratchy rumble as the end of Neko’s tail twitched, and even from here Snow could sense a rising anger.

Neko was about to answer when the two noticed her staring. “Can we help you, ma’am?” the girl asked. She was a slight thing, obviously, but taller and weedier than her companion, who seemed to want to hide behind her. They both looked so young, though perhaps she was getting older. “You want to order something?”

Neko straightened and put on a thousand watt smile, waving in a way that could be considered embarrassed. “No! I’m so sorry, I was just talking to my friend here and it seems I’ve spaced out! Sorry for the bother, didn’t mean to stare!”

“Arright, you have a good day,” the girl said, still eyeing her suspiciously as Neko turned and walked away.

“I think I’ll be handling this,” Neko said to Snow, hitching the front of her dress as she moved slightly faster, Snow tailing her without much trouble. The barest hint of a grin showed as Snow lit her cigar.

----

A few people received messages, and when they saw it was being delivered by a well cared for Trick of the Light, the tiny scroll tied to the collar glimmering with either gold or an enchantment made to emulate it, they nervously took it as the creature dipped its head and disappeared.

Most breathed a sigh of relief when it was only a small thing, asking if they could please move their carts a few feet? So sorry for the bother, it seems the safety crew had noticed it could be a hazard. Rules would of course be updated so as not to trouble anyone with having to move their things again in the future. Please enjoy the festival.

Some noticed that the Trick of the Light (named Brioche, though of course they wouldn’t know that) seemed to hang around for a while afterward, appearing on eaves and rooftops, occasionally cleaning itself with a sort of bored indifference. Maybe it just wasn’t that well trained yet. It’d go back home on its own soon.

----

“Luca!” They heard behind them, and involuntarily jumped at both the sudden noise and the overly sweet way of the person saying it. Luca had been working on the main stage, setting up fireworks for the display tomorrow night.

“Um, hello Neko,” they replied, glancing over their things and tools just to make sure they’d done nothing wrong. “Something I can assist you with?”

“No, no,” Neko said, waving a hand. “It’s just that we don’t get much of a chance to talk when it's so busy. Pity you’ll be going on break soon, I wanted to catch up.” Luca immediately caught on to what she was getting at, and the fact that Neko was holding out a hand with several gems clutched inside it, looking the other way as though simply observing her surroundings.

“How long am I going on break for?” Luca asked, gently palming the gems and stuffing them into their coat.

“Oh about forty five minutes?” Neko said breezily before turning to her with a smile. “You are part of the safety crew. Don’t want the place to burn down without you.”

“Yes ma’am,” Luca said, then paused and looked at the ground by the stage. “There’s some accelerant back there, so...you may wish to be careful.”

“Thank you dear, you’re always so helpful.”

----

Jesse sat on the rooftop of The Diamond Palace, swinging her legs and twirling her open parasol though dark had fallen some time ago. She supposed it was mostly habit, and the fact that she liked when people looked up to see a woman in all black on a roof with a lace umbrella. It gave a very particular sort of impression.

“Hey,” August said, climbing up and sitting beside her in a clumsy sort of way that was very him. “Got something called a spaghetti taco from a vendor. Wanna try?” he asked, holding it out. Ugh he was lucky that he didn’t get that all over his suit.

“No, thank you,” she said, looking back over the grounds, seeing the glow from lanterns and personal campfires people had lit as things settled down for the day.

“It’s good,” he replied. “Kind of weird though, who would think-”

“Ah, there it is,” Jesse said, watching a glow from one particular fire grow.

“So should we call for Luca or is that something we’re not supposed to have seen?” he asked, taking another bite.

“Second thing.”

“Cool,” August said, watching for a moment as the light grew and flickered. “You know sometimes I think we need more stuff to do. Remember when we used to-”

“And we almost died several times, yes,” she replied, still swinging her feet and leaning back to prop herself up on a hand. “Occasional boredom is a small price to pay for wealth and safety, don’t you think? Besides, we make our own fun.”

---

They returned to find the cart on fire, a blaze lighting up the night as several people rushed around them, trying to find water or to look for help. Indrid set down the crate she’d been carrying and looked with a mix of horror and, if she was being honest, a little bit of hope.

That was when she noticed a woman standing in front of the fire, a hand to her chin as though in contemplation. She looked slightly familiar, though Indrid couldn’t place her. The woman turned, her bright curls bouncing and reflecting the light with a healthy sheen. “Oh, hello!” the woman said, smiling. “My what a pity! Is this your cart?”

“Not...I guess sort of, ma’am,” Indrid replied as she could feel Collins duck behind her.

“Oh yes, you’re the two I saw earlier!” the woman said, still with that chipper, cheery voice as the bottom of the wagon blackened and fell in behind her, the firelight making it hard to tell her features aside from like a cutout. “The barbeque stand, wasn’t it? Well, at least you still have that. And I think I saw someone running away a few moments ago, the other man working with you?” Indrid tried not to feel her heart sink, even as she was scared and unsure of what was going on, what was going to happen. “You know I do believe he just plain ran away, but I’ll send someone to look for him. In the meantime why don’t I offer you two some food and lodging?”

Indrid’s mood immediately shifted to suspicion. “Where at…?”

“How very rude of me!” the woman said, reaching out a hand as someone else approached, and another behind them. One slim figure in black, pink, and furs and the other glowing orange, covered in black metal plate. “My name is Neko, the owner of The Cat’s Meow. I’m terribly sorry about this accident, and I don’t want you to leave with a bad impression. Please allow me to make it up to you.”

“I...I guess?” Indrid said, shaking the hand but still wary and just plain not understanding what was happening. The slim figure began to pull and move the fire, seeming to push it into the glowing figure, and the blaze began to die down.

“Really this is such an odd thing,” Neko said, moving over to the person behind Indrid and gently touching his shoulder. The way he flinched under her fingers made her more assured that she’d made the right call. “Occasionally we do have strange objects pop up around here. Perhaps one of you accidently picked up something...magical?” Neko glanced down to the bracelets on their wrists. “We do have a very good enchantment breaker nearby, if you think that’s the case.”

The boy...man? It’s difficult to tell... behind Indrid rubs a wrist and finally speaks up. “How much would it cost, ma’am?”

“Oh my goodness, free of course,” Neko said, wanting to take him by the shoulders and reassure him. “Didn’t I say I’d be treating you two?”

--

“How are they doing?” Neko asked Lysander as she sat behind her desk. The room was octagonal in shape and opulent in a way- glistening wood, hints of gold and copper, small brass statues and lamps with tinted green glass. She did not so much go in for tacky, but well made and sturdy was much more her style. Neko leaned back in her chair, smoking a specialty herbal cigarette and tapping it into a faceted crystal ashtray. She hated the smell of smoke, but these perfumed the air, and even if they weren’t as satisfying she rarely indulged anyway. She liked to think she kept her vices small and contained.

“Still a bit shaky,” Lysander said, just a hint of drawl to his speech. Neko often wondered if that was an affection meant to be charming. It certainly seemed to work for him, in any case.

“And you hinted that I would be happy to hire them?”

“Of course, ma’am,” Lysander nodded. “Don’t know how keen they are on it. Suppose I don’t blame them not trusting employers.”

“Me either,” Neko said, breathing out a plume of smoke and tapping the cigarette into the tray before continuing. “Thank you for staying late and helping me with this, Sander. Please leave some money in their rooms in case they decide to take off in the middle of the night.”

Lysander moved towards the door and opened it, pausing once his natural flirtiness was screaming at him to not waste the opportunity. He tipped his hat and winked at her. “Always happy to stay up late at night for you, ma’am.” She giggled and waved a hand at him in an ‘oh, you’ sort of way. He smiled and shut the door behind him.

The Trick of the Light Brioche appeared on her desk, and Neko slid the waiting silver tray of food towards her, Brioche gently taking one of the hors d’oeuvre sized snacks in her mouth and chewing like an unimpressed golden cat. Neko put out a hand and gently scratched behind her ear as the creature squinted her eyes contentedly. “Honestly,” Neko said. “Some people just think they can do whatever they want.”

[sparkledeerfr]

Just a small blurb on how Yuki was accidently the inspiration for her younger brother.

Warnings: Well Hawk is in it so swears and alcohol mentions come naturally

Grenfell was walking back to The Workshop when he noticed someone climbing the Castle, the massive hulking beast of a stone and concrete building situated directly in the center of town. It immediately irritated him in an ‘damn idiot tourist’ sort of way and, if he was being honest, he still kind of thought of the Castle as his and didn’t want some drunk moron touching it, or accidently impaling himself or blowing himself up.

Well, not unless he was the one to do it. Then it was just fun. But the days of owning said building and waiting for people to stumble into it, looking for secrets or treasure (people always did tend to think that the best stuff would be in the tallest building) were over….at least for now. There could always be time again later.

He walked over to the structure and looked up at the man in the ratty leather duster attempting to heave himself up farther for a moment- this was obviously not a person used to climbing. Absolutely none of the skill of some around here was on display, even with all the excessive decoration he could be grasping on to. How very embarrassing.

“Excuse me!” Grenfell called up, crossing his arms behind his back. “You shouldn’t be on there! It's quite dangerous!”

“There’s a hatchling!” the man called back down, slurring his words in the way of the obviously inebriated or painfully tired.

“There’s a what?”

“A hatchling! There’s a kid up here, man!”

Grenfell set his jaw. Well. Most likely he was just drunk and mistaken, but better to end this quickly if he wasn’t going to listen. He walked over to the wall of the Castle and put a hand to it.

Hawk started to notice that his own hands were slipping, and then they felt...wet? He inspected one and there seemed to be clay stuck to it.

That was when he saw everything under and around him was starting to grow slack and melting down, as though the stone itself was returning to some kind of primordial ooze. He looked back up and that hatchling pearlcatcher he’d spotted was slipping down as well. He reached out for it but he could rightfully say his coordination was not the best at the moment, and the kid slipped past on the slurry with an angry squawk and onto the street, right next to the man who had been calling up to him. “Hey shit, grab ‘er before she takes off or something,” Hawk said, pointing at the scrambling kid as his own feet touched ground. The fact that he’d just had a portion of a building melt around him did not seem to faze him in the least, even with some of it stuck to his boots.

Grenfell noticed the baby and picked it up, holding it slightly outward in the way of one unused to children. This was not a child he recognised, but she was rather cute, wasn’t she? A sort of chocolatey color and with large matching red-brown plague eyes staring up and a paler horn set between them. She rather resembled some sort of living confection. He was about to suggest they find whatever errant parent had misplaced her when she sank her teeth into his hand.

“Ha!” Grenfell said, watching her start to turn her head back and forth like an animal attempting to tear flesh. “Look at her go! What a good child!”

“That...that don’t hurt?” Hawk asked him, the hatchling now making small growling noises and tugging, her teeth still fully latched in. And she had those puppy-like needle baby fangs. Dang.

“Not a bit!” the man replied, smiling and holding the her up as though positively delighted.

“Well all-” Hawk started when he noticed black smoke around them, along with the sudden appearance of a man in a long black coat. Hawk instinctively put a hand to the cleaver stuck rather haphazardly in his belt, but stranger just crossed his arms and looked at the man in purple.

Grenfell lowered the child and looked to Daud, each old enough to have a silent understanding- D was here for the hatchling and if Gren would just hand her over without the need for physical threats so they could both get along with their day. “Ah!” Grenfell said, and Daud couldn’t help but start to smile a little when Gren tucked his hand under the hatchling, holding her close as if she were his own, even with her teeth still in him and not noticing that he’d done so. “A delightful creature. Not yours, though, surely?”

D simply held out his own hand and gestured with his fingers to give her over. He was never any fun.

“Fine,” Grenfell said, a slight growl to his voice. He pulled his hand away, a small bit of his own skin left behind and held her out to him. “Here.”

D disappeared again and Grenfell looked at the spot where he’d been standing, considering. He’d never really thought about children before. They all seemed to be rather useless, like admitting that you might fail and had to pass on your work to weaker progeny, but that little creature was different. And whose was she? Had to be someone in the Castle. Perhaps things would be-

“The whole shit was that?” Hawk asked, cutting into his thoughts. Gren snarled internally and a slight bit externally. Having people around was entertaining, yes, but there was something to be said for being alone. “That guy was real, right?”

“Yes, very much so,” Grenfell replied. “How drunk are you?”

“Ah man Zanril gave me sommathis mushroom beer and lemme tell you,” Hawk said, holding up his hands and moving them in a rainbow arc. “I don’t even know if we’re really talkin’ right now.”

“Wonderful.”

[sparkledeerfr]

Castle Snoopin’

Some vignettes of the first day of everyone getting to snoop. We learn a little about Gren and it doesn’t surprise anyone. We learn a little about other people that might.

And yeah, there is a bunch of stuff in there. That’s just what happens if you leave Gren out of sight for long enough.

Warnings: Death mentions (we didn’t know ‘em it’s cool), a swear or two. 

It was honestly weird seeing the giant doors- things nearly the size of the main gate- open on the front of The Castle, weirder still to see people milling in and exploring out of curiosity. Booker and Hex were keeping an eye on things, making sure no visitors went inside until the place was good and cleared out. Between Daniel (traps and mimics that Adeline swore were now breeding new varieties of their own accord. There was no way the man remembered how many he had), Grenfell (definitely had things in there, would flat out refuse to say exactly what until they found it, of course), and the place itself deciding to move things it could be dangerous, especially for anyone unused to the oddities of the city. Pattel had been good enough to offer to help and March would likely be wandering somewhere with Kylie.

That combined with the Shielders meant there was more than enough people keeping watch that hopefully, really, really hopefully, someone wouldn’t blow themselves up. Or get a hand or foot eaten.

---

Grenfell was wandering upstairs intending to check on something, but in the meandering way of one who didn’t want to go directly to his destination and possibly lead someone else there. He also rather enjoyed seeing people walking around, making little comments about things. Yes, he knew the place was dark and creepy. It was supposed to be. It was also supposed to make him stand out though yes, looking back on it the place was a bit dreary and poorly laid out, but that could be easily changed.

Gods he was becoming domesticated, wasn’t he? He was actually looking forward to planning and revamping with Sparks, possibly with some snippy input from Katsu. A hand reached up to absentmindedly pet Pietro who was in his usual place- slung across his shoulders like a cat, or more accurately the bodies of at least three pets gelled together. Perhaps it was parental instinct to improve the nest. His son did deserve to grow up someplace nice, maybe with some potted plants decorating-

“Hey,” a voice said, and there was a light slap on his arm. Grenfell paused his thought process and looked down to see the slight but athletic frame of Crunch.

“Yes, darling?” he asked. There was a momentary scrunch of her face, easily visible even with the travelling hood and goggles. Crunch wasn’t fond of his tendency to call everyone pet names, but she also knew he meant nothing by it and was unlikely to change. It was simply habit, a thing he did to signal that he liked you, or could at least stand you.

“There’s somethin’ I’ve been wantin’ to ask you about for a while,” she said, putting a gloved hand on a hip. “You mind?”

“Not at all.”

----

“Alice, be careful,” Samuel said and she tried not to snort. He was still rail thin and looked about half dead, dragging his left foot slightly as it hadn’t regained all of its feeling.

“Me be careful?” she asked good naturedly, coming up and putting a shoulder under one of his arms. “We should find you a chair. You need rest.” He was on the trail of something in this place, and his curiosity wouldn’t let him stop until he found what was bothering him and examined it. Unfortunately he couldn’t just manifest in The Castle and relax- there was some kind of odd warping magic that as he put it it ‘made it feel like there’s wind stinging my eyes.’

“Just a few more minutes,” he said, trying not to let wear enter his voice. He was grateful to be able to actually move again, to have a body, but why did everything have to be so slow and tiring? “And yes, you’re the one most affected by sudden magic surges.”

“Hush fuss bucket,” she said, sticking her tounge out. “I’ll be fine for a few m-m-m-” Alice shook her head, though Samuel caught it, the slight blinking skip in her form. “-Minutes.”

“Ah,” he replied. He’d apologized repeatedly about what had gotten them into this state in the first place but still felt poorly, perhaps because it seemed she could never be mad at him. She was just happy that he was alive and recovering, which didn’t exactly relieve his guilt. Odd that it would be easier if she’d yell at him a little.

“Skip?” she asked when she saw his face, even half covered in rot and bandages it was easy to see what he was thinking. He never was any good at concealing feelings.

“Skip,” he nodded as they continued slowly forward and found themselves in another open hall. What was this one supposed to be? A grand dining area? Formal living? It just looked like a large fancy room with peeling black and gold wallpaper.

There were more stairs, some leading up and some down. His instincts said down, but externally he sighed. This place seemed to be made of stairs, and Alice was right, he was getting tired. “Man, finding our way back out is going to be a nightmare,” she said, looking up to the decorative tin ceiling that didn’t seem to reflect much of the low lighting in the room.

“I believe that was an intentional design decision,” Sam said, making his way slowly down the steps. “But we’re close to whatever it is, I can feel it.”

---

Adeline walked, hands in her pockets and feeling over the small rocks she’d placed in there to toss at things that seemed suspicious. Already she’d found three rug mimics and a brand new fun breed- a painting mimic. That one was at least easy to spot as it was a splotchy purple that almost looked like an impressionist painting, until you realized it was a bit too thick and its ‘frame’ was also purple.

She heard an irritated sigh coming from an open room down the hall (at least this hall was average sized) and recognized the voice: Santi.

Adeline poked her head in. “What’s-” she started when she realized what the room contained. In the center was what could be considered a statue. The thing was enormous and looked to be a mass of skeletons all carved of grey stone, each crawling over each other and reaching out with bony fingers almost plaintively, jaws open in a silent cry.

Then she saw what the mass was reaching for- statues of the gods against the walls, faces barely lit. It could resemble a very inclusive prayer room if you didn’t notice that the gods were all twisting over each other, constricting as though swimming in a strong current, and each face was a mocking and angry mask. She found Stormcatcher whose mouth was open and baring fangs, mantis arms lifted as though intending to take a chunk out of something larger in front of him.

She wasn’t exactly religious, but there was no damn way she was going in that room. Santi was a bit braver in this regard and was currently standing in front of Lightweaver, the heels of his hands pressed against his eyes in irritation. “It’s all enchanted, isn’t it?” she asked him.

“MmmmHrM,” he said as an annoyed noise, nodding and standing as though attempting to give himself the will to push entirely through his own face.

She pointed to the mass of carved skeletons. “And there are actual bodies in that?”

“MmmHRM.”

“Welp,” she said, hands still on the frame of the doorway as she looked back up and caught the face of the Arcanist, needle sharp teeth coming from a strange alien form. “Just uhhhh….let me know if you need something. And thank you. A bunch.”

----

“So”, Crunch asked Gren as she looked up at a giant stone face that slightly resembled a porcelain mask with its eyes shut. They were in a lower area, near what one would call the basement if it weren’t for the tunnels even further below them, but this place looked unfinished, especially as it had hard packed dirt floors. The giant mask, easily more than ten feet in height, was placed high above them between two sets of stairs leading upwards. “What’s it do?”

“Oh that thing,” Grenfell said, waving a hand and walking over to a blank grey brick wall. “Where is it where is it?” he asked mostly to himself as he looked the bricks over, trying to remember. “Ah yes, here.” He reached a hand through the stone as it if were water and Crunch tensed, ready to run if there was the slightest thing off, but still she was curious.

The face opened its eyes, revealing they were made of painted ceramic with bright blue irises. She waited but it just...blinked. After a few more seconds when Gren had stood back next to her and was watching it with her, she realized that was it. “I have been looking at that damn thing for years,” Crunch said as the face blinked again with a slight grinding noise of stone against stone. “I was like ‘man that’s gotta do some bullshit’...and you’re telling me that’s it?”

“Yes!” Grenfell said happily as Pietro hissed at the unfamiliar sight. “Not everything has to do something. That’s the art of it, Crunch. If everything does something then nothing is frightening. It’s all about ambiance.”

“So it's all made to scare people?”

“Most things in the Castle and some of the city, yes.” Grenfell said, bouncing on the balls of his feet and clasping his hands behind his back. “You see any fool with a knife can make someone afraid, but to do it simply through environment without them setting eyes on you? Now that I would call a skill. You want a sense of creeping dread, so that when you do finally arrive, it has settled into their bones.”

“So its kinda…” Crunch stopped and looked back up at that stupid face. Yeah, she guessed if she was crawling around in an unknown place and saw that thing she would be put right off. “Tactics?”

“Oh no no,” Grenfell said, happy to share his thought process. “My very favorite thing is when I finally corner someone and they know, they absolutely know that they are going to die and there’s nothing they can do about it. You can see it in their face. It’s artistry, really. Environmental storytelling followed by force.”

“Right,” she nodded, not really getting it but understanding the idea. “But you’re fine with us? I mean your favorite thing is murder and all.”

“It is,” he said, and his hand went back up to pet Pietro. There was something very reassuring about his strange purr and the way he rubbed his head against his hand. He was such a good child. “And perhaps if different people had taken over my city there would be a very different story happening. But...I have friends. I have my son. Let us enjoy this collaboration while we have it. Time marches ceaselessly on, and I can afford to wait.”

“Yeah,” Crunch said, crossing her arms before looking up to his face. “You’re alright for a crazy person.”

“Thank you!”

---

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be exploring, dear?” Nimue asked Kylie, who was currently holding a child in her arms as they stood in one of the few rooms Jamison had re-done completely. There was actual paint, color, light and furniture.

Of all the things Kylie had expected to find in this city, the fact that the giant creepy castle was home to parents wasn’t one of them. It wasn’t that they had kids, it was just that they exuded...parent...ness. It was probably that Nimue was lounging on a padded bench by the window with Yuki and Jam had offered her sandwiches. You also kind of felt weird cussing around them.

“Oh heck no. I am not touching anything in here until Santi’s looked at it first,” Kylie said, bouncing the kid in her arms. Apparently the boy had earned the nickname ‘Near’ for his tendency to stay out things and instead observe them from a distance. Well, when you had a sister like Yuki you probably let her take care of the action. “Why do they call you Jam and not like...James?”

“I’ve changed my appearance quite a few times over the years,” Jam replied. “One look contained a lot of purple, and the nickname stuck.” He noticed that March was attempting his usual passive mode of lounging with his back against a wall, ankles and arms crossed, but his tail was twitching. “Are you certain that you wouldn’t like to sit?” Jam asked him. He’d said hello to March a few times before now, so what was making him be on edge? Nimue? The new environment?

March shook his head before tilting it at Jam. Ah. “Relax big guy,” Jam said to him, wanting to go over and clap him on the shoulder but knowing that wasn’t the right move. He’d settle on his own. “Been retired a long time now. Longer than Walter, actually.”

Jam felt his wife’s eyes suddenly on him, boring a hole straight into him as Kylie asked: “Who’s Walter?” Oh dear. March put a hand out and traced something onto her shoulder, causing Kylie to gently set Near on the ground. “Excuse me I need to go right now. Just uh...forgot something. Be right back.”

Jam looked up at the ceiling and sighed, knowing who was going to be behind him if he turned around. It was a thing you got used to. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m used to it just being us in here.”

“Great,” Walter said, walking around him and picking Near up from the floor. “Everyone’s going to know in-”

“WHAT,” the voice of Jack came from down the hall. “It’s been TEN GODDAMN YEARS YOU SHIT.”

“-thirty seconds.”

----

Samuel was feeling about how Adeline had felt about the god room, standing just outside the doorway and peering into something he wished 1) wasn’t there and 2) that he hadn’t seen. He was a naturally curious person and something of a magical researcher, but there was no way he was stepping more than a foot in there.

He knew what the strange glowing thing in the center of it was- silvery rings twisting and flitting around each other like a child’s toy. A Rifedel’s Compass, an item meant to slowly leech magical energy from an area and then later be reversed to expend said energy. A handy thing when you were working with say, magical items that could be dangerous. Arcane energy in particular had a tendency to do what it wanted if not properly contained.

But he’d only ever seen ones with three rings, and he also knew the more power they leeched the more chaotic and potentially dangerous the compass itself became. The world’s energy wasn’t meant to be stuffed into a container, after all.

This thing had twelve rings, it was spinning wildly and there were inscriptions all around the conical room that he could feel were moving the energy around, expending at least some of it. He was also aware that the city itself was sitting on a Shadow leyline. Grenfell had put this stupid thing on a goddamn leyline and left it there. There was an obsidian circle set in the floor below it, which probably did something he didn’t understand quite yet. Sam put a hand to his face. No wonder this whole city was constantly flooded with magic, and if he attempted to turn it off there was a very, very large chance of it exploding and a possible chain reaction with the leyline.

For someone so clever Grenfell could be really dumb. Or maybe the entire point was mutually assured destruction. Samuel straightened himself and looked back to Alice, who had her hands over her mouth and nose and was breathing slowly, concentrating on not skipping. “Let’s get you away from here,” he said.

“That would b-b-b-” she looked towards the ceiling and gave a frustrated sigh as her entire body flickered like candlelight in a breeze, threatening to blink away somewhere in time. “BE good.”

“Really, really sorry about that,” Samuel said, wincing slightly. Maybe he shouldn’t be so hard on Gren for trying things that were very stupid in hindsight. It seemed a habit of Arcane dragons to push the limits and occasionally have it snap back into your face.

“I know, you don’t need to k-k-k-....ugh.”

“Yeah, I do.”

[sparkledeerfr]

Great Nothing Wrong Here

I still need to fix up Sam, but in honor of the nest curse finally being lifted (sorry about that it just...happens) I thought I’d put this up first

Warnings: None unless you count baby Pietro  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“Going to see ma and pa! Going to see ma and pa!” Hemwick sang, running around Crunch in his mirror form, her in the same galloping forward and occasionally creating a small gust of wind to glide for short distances. It was a damn fool thing to do, but she’d hoped they’d get ahead of that sandstorm she’d seen coming up earlier. Didn’t look like they would- there was an angry wall of red coming directly for the road.

Navigating the Wound Road in a sandstorm near dusk. Yeah, she’d had better plans, but Hem had been bugging her relentlessly about going and visiting. Worst came to worst they’d set up a tent and bunker down for a bit, but she stopped for a moment to cover her mouth and nose with a handkerchief as the silt-fine dust started to blow upwards, a warning of what was soon coming.

It didn’t much bother Hemwick, who was still running around her, bouncing. Maybe because he was Plague born and such things took longer to bother him, maybe because he let her worry about and take care of things. She’d smack him on the shoulder in a few minutes and remind him to put on the kerchief and goggles.

“CRUNCH!” he called out happily and nipped her left earfin, tugging her down like a hatchling learning to play with its siblings.

“WHAT,” she snarled and tried to yank it away, but of course he was rather burly and she built for speed. Vision was starting to get real murky and soon it’d be hard to tell three feet in front of your face. Should they just run for it? They were both pretty damn fast when need be.

“Mom and dad!” he said, releasing her.

“I KNOW. WE COME OUT HERE ALL THE TIME. AND EVERY TIME. YOU TELL ME,” she snapped, both annoyed and trying to cover for the fact that she was starting to worry. He grabbed her earfin in his mouth again and yanked her to a stop. “Stop it! We gotta get-” she started when she noticed that he was pointing with a claw. Crunch looked up (well as best she could with her head being twisted sideways) and someone was coming out of the forefront of the sandstorm.

No fricken’ way….but there was very little mistaking that frame, or that bright ass coat. Hem released her.

“Hi!!” Hemwick yelled, waving to him. “Hi friend! We’re going to see ma and pa!”

“Very bad time for travelling,” Grenfell said, even though he wasn’t wearing any sort of protective gear and appeared to just have one cloth side bag. “I’d stay and chat but I don’t think it's very good for a child to be inhaling this much dust.”

“Chi-” Crunch started when Hemwick cut her off: “BABY? Where’s the baby??” he called out, bouncing around Grenfell and looking him over like a dog knowing their owner had a treat. Hem always was fond of kids, even if you couldn’t let him babysit for too long.

“Ah, here,” Grenfell said, reaching into that cloth bag. “Just for a moment, then I should be getting along.” Hemwick immediately reached out for the bundle, but Gren pulled it back slightly. “Do be careful. He hasn’t quite learned ‘do not eat’ yet.”

“Okay!” Hemwick said, taking the bundle and pulling the cloth back to have a look. Crunch wanted to back away. It was...a mirror hatchling? No the eyes were all different colors, and it was too thin. Actually if she could describe it, it would be like someone had slightly stretched out a mirror hatchling into a skydancer shape. And the coloration was, well, best she could figure it was like that one meat jelly dish that Etzel called ‘an abomination to man, gods, and the culinary arts.’

Actually that descritor worked pretty well here, too.

“He has dog ears!” Hemwick said (Crunch looked and there were indeed two small canid ears on the kid’s head, perked towards the stranger that was holding him...also were those teeth or spikes on his back?). Hem was not bothered in the least, which wasn’t hugely surprising. “What’s his name?”

“Pietro- and indeed he very much likes dogs. Takes after his mother in that way,” Grenfell said, taking the hatchling back. Pietro curled into the bundle as the word ‘mother’ hit Crunch like a truck. She couldn’t really even feel the sand smacking against her for a moment because 1) someone did that, someone willingly made a child with Grenfell and it turned out to be that and 2) who the blood soaked hell was it? Who made an egg with-

“Thank you!” Hemwick said, waving again. “See you both at home??”

“Yes,” Grenfell said, nestling the bundle back into his side bag. “Charming place you’re from, Hemwick. I’m sure I’ll be visiting again soon, very interesting people.”

“You’re not gonna-” Crunch started, turning her head at him and leaving the various implications.

“I will not cause trouble, that would be unforgivably rude. Do take care. The way up ahead is clear aside from the storm.”

With that he walked away and Crunch looked after him for a moment until he disappeared in the red sand. Should she send a message...? Eh. Nah. Let them have fun with that one. She also wondered if anyone had been damn fool enough to try and rob or mess with him along the road, and if they were how bad their day had been. ‘The way is clear’. Yeah, she bet it was. Time to really get going.

“We should get them a gift while we’re here!” Hemwick called, running far ahead of her, paws kicking up even more dirt along the path. His energy rather cancelled out his bulk when it came to running. “You should always get new parents gifts!”

“Yeah, sure, Hem.”

[sparkledeerfr]

A shorty. Sam gets (mostly) put back together and West gets a robot son, which is in no way scary. 

Warnings- surgery mention? Idk better safe than sorry

Sam watched trepidatiously as this new person- a smaller woman with curly hair, originally reddish orange but now streaked with grey- picked up his jar that had been separated from the mana converter. Lady stood behind her, looking over her shoulder as she lifted and tucked it against her chest. “You got it?” Lady asked, trying to keep the fret out of her voice. She’d worked hard and she wasn’t about to lose her patient now.

“Yes, I do,” the woman said, glancing behind her with faux irritation and a smile. “I’m not so old that I can’t lift things, you know.”

“Sorry, Oph,” Lady replied, a relieved smile on her face as she patted the other woman on the shoulder and they made their way out the front garage-style door.

Sparks, West, and Grenfell watched them leave and after a few moments when they were sure they were well gone Sparks spoke. “Okay narc’s gone, time to work.” Even as she was saying it West went over to a shadowed corner and pulled a tarp from something stacked there, revealing a huge black iron creeper that they’d been insisting to Lady was just ‘spare parts’.

Sparks held a screwdriver and started undoing the plating when another voice said behind her: “Uhhh who’s a narc?” She squeezed her eyes shut and handed Gren a plate, which he quickly took and started scrawling things on with a finger.

“Damn it, other narc,” she said, looking back over her shoulder to see Crow half out of a shadow, leaning on it as though he was peeking through a window. “Just keep your trap shut for a few hours, okay?”

“I’m not a narc,” Crow insisted, looking over this new project. It wasn’t nearly the size of Big Daddy, but staring at a large black metal spider that could possibly be up and running soon was unnerving. “Sooooo why can’t Lady know about this?”

“We’re gonna slap a developing AI that we totally legit got into it, and Gren wants to see if he can have the thing automatically repair itself,” she said, still unscrewing the plating. The one Grenfell was holding glowed briefly with a finished enchantment. “But Lady’s gonna be all ‘that’s dangerous, guys, don’t just slap things together without testing, mah mah,” she raised her voice mockingly for a moment. “So we gotta hurry and get it running before she’s done with the surgery on Sam.”

“And she won’t just stop you once she’s back?” Crow asked.

“Not if we have it make beeping noises,” Sparks said. “Then she’ll think its cute.”

----

“Excuse me,” Sam said, manifesting his eye and trying not to look at the large jar in the woman’s hands. It was more than a little unsettling to look at pieces of yourself. “I don’t believe we’ve met, miss…?”

“Ophelia, no ‘miss’ needed,” the woman replied. He noticed she had on a worn black priest’s robe and a staff slung across her back, the ring on top jingling with bells and metal chimes.

“...are things bad enough that a priest might be needed?” Samuel asked, glancing to Lady. He knew getting back together was always going to be risky, but he did hold out hope that something could be done. They were walking to meet with a man named Mochi in his tent as apparently he didn’t much like going into the Stone City.

“We like to use ‘just in case’ around here,” Ophelia said, smiling gently at him. “So, I’m here just in case.”

“Ah.”

----

The surgery was long, though not the hardest Lady had ever done. She and Mochi tended towards being quiet and exacting while working, both of them with an eye towards detail that meant suturing first while he healed, weaving back together organs, veins, and nerve endings with delicate precision that had made for a long day.

Samuel was still asleep, and they’d left Ophelia to watch for when he woke up while they took a break. Mochi was still unsure of how much Samuel would be able to feel after all was said and done- unfortunately the parts of his original body were fairly well gone even with the regeneration, and dead things weren’t a weaver specialty. Maybe they could set something up, she thought as she made her way slowly back to The Workshop, intending to make sure that crew had actually saved and put away the pink charcelony. If he could regenerate with that stuff, then maybe they’d just set up a bigger chamber for him to-

She heard the noise first, the clunking and whirring sound of something metallic, heavy and robotic on the concrete floor. For just a moment she wondered if Big Daddy had needed repairs, but that thought was quickly banished. Those three always got up to something the second her eyes left them.

Lady peeked around the corner and into the large central garage, eyes bleary and annoyed in the way of a mother having been woken up by loud children.

There was a black iron creeper in the center of the room trying to step carefully around the people beside and beneath it. A gold plated blue glass eye zeroed in on her and the thing beeped in greeting.

“Uhhhh, hi!” Sparks said, waving as she screwed back in a plate on its side. “Meet Chirok! How’d the surgery go? Sam okay?”

[sparkledeerfr]

Carthus

Just a little discussion between the boys about why the blacksmith does what he does in his off time.

Katsu saw the figure and the fire from between the trees near the Shadow border far before he was in range to talk or call out, which wasn’t hugely surprising- Carthus was bright orange and glowed slightly. He’d stand out anywhere aside from directly next to an active volcano or magma vent. Katsu glanced around as he approached, taking note of the area, making sure there was nothing and no one else around. He walked over the dried pine needles that littered the ground from the trees, which would make for fast kindling if that fire got out of the stone circle Carthus had made, but he wasn’t that worried. The man knew flame and he always built out by the river.

“Need something?” Carthus asked, voice muffled by that black iron mask he wore, throwing a small hemp bracelet into the bonfire and watching it slowly crackle and be consumed. He rarely removed that mask and was one of the few people who preferred staying in dragon form. It wasn’t that difficult for a wildclaw to move around the city that way, but it was one more odd thing about him.

“Why do you always wear that mask?” Katsu asked, looking from the blaze to Cathus’ hands. There were several more trinkets in between bright orange claws, though none made of the iron or glass he usually worked with.

“Protection,” Carthus replied, his voice low and calming. Much like Mochi, he never seemed to be bothered. “It traps the heat. Helps make sure I don’t burn anyone on accident.”

“That happen before?”

“A time or two,” he nodded before tilting his head to the other man, who was staring at the fire. Carthus knew that look well enough- he wasn’t looking at it but past it. “Something you want to ask?”

“You pick this tradition up from your family?” Katsu said, but Carthus knew that wasn’t really what he wanted to know. He was trying to edge into it in a polite way that Kat usually wasn’t capable of, but the man had been trying to be more friendly as of late.

“No, somewhere else,” Carthus replied. “You want to know what I toss in and why.”

“Guess I do.”

“I toss in things that mean something  to me,” Carthus said. “Even if it's a small thing that I spent a little money on. It helps remind me of what’s important, and that everything is temporary. It's also an offering to life, to help ensure its continued existence.”

“And you don’t burn the things you make?”

“No. Those are important to other people. The act of creation from fire is also an act of recognising the flame. An act of devoutness,” Carthus said, drawling in the way of someone who has given this speech a few times and did not expect the other person in the conversation to understand.

“So not for Flamecaller….but the fire itself?”

“Flamecaller was born from the fires of life,” Carthus said, tossing in what looked to be a small statue made of twisted dried leaves. “As were all the gods. They did not spring forth from nothing, they embody an aspect of what they sprung from.”

“Magic.”

“You could say that,” Carthus replied, staring at the fire with him and casually throwing his last offering. “By magic we live and die….but I think there’s something else you want to ask.” Katsu glanced to him, but his clear eye turned back without speaking. “You are picturing people being tossed into the flames.”

“Yeah,” Katsu nodded, slightly off put that he was that easy to read, though Carthus did have a way about him that told you he’d had this discussion before and knew the usual questions.

“That’s not what I do, nor would I ever,” Carthus said. “The point is to ensure life, not destroy it. It would be a blasphemous offering, among other things.” Katsu nodded. “You do not trust any sort of religion, I think.”

“Got it in one,” Katsu said, taking out a cigarette and wondering how blasphemous Carthus would find it if he lit it with the bonfire.

“Many people have been hurt by it. Many find comfort in it. I just happen to be the latter,” Carthus said, not wanting to argue or convince. He simply didn’t want Katsu to think he was out here sacrificing babies or blood or some other nasty thing. “I’m not looking to convert anyone, and the cities don’t seem a place for devout people.”

“That they aren’t,” Katsu said with a nod, not adding the ‘thankfully’ he was feeling. Beliefs and superstitions, those they were plenty good at, and Katsu had a little room in his heart for those things.  He could file Carthus’ particular habits under ‘superstition’ and come to terms with it.

Still. There was something slightly off-putting about the thought of a man who calmly tossed things that meant something to him into a blaze, no matter how nice he seemed.

[sparkledeerfr]

A Hunt

Aka ‘Poor York is not built for this’

Warnings: A big monster gets dead, and some mentions of blood.

-------

Adeline is sitting on her heels, far north of the Cities in the wastes, staring at a set of tracks. She hasn’t laid eyes on what they’re hunting, but she can tell enough about it from the clear prints now that they’re off the spongier Plague soil and onto the sandier. It’s big- about the size of a pronghorn stomper if she had to guess- and slightly wolfish judging by the pad and claw placement. It also has a slight limp or injury on the back left leg by the way it drags it.

But these prints are older. They’re closing in on it, but it would likely be a bit longer before they caught up to it, especially if York kept lagging behind. She knew her and March were tough to keep up with, especially for someone who was unused to longer distances like he seemed to be, but it was a tiny bit annoying particularly as he’d insisted on not bringing too many people. Or as he put it ‘I don’t believe we’ll need an entire retinue’. There was also something about ‘not being able to afford it’, but she didn’t believe that the mention of payment had come up. Really the whole thing was a bit weird but he did look worn out as though he’d been chasing it himself for a long while, and if someone asked for help and genuinely seemed to need it she wasn’t the type to say no even if the person did seem a bit… Well. He was kinda dumb, if she was being honest. Sweet, slightly formal, pretty, and kinda dumb. Either the kind of person you’d feel bad about letting wander into the wastes on his own, or the exact kind of person you’d send in to bait someone else into a trap. If it was a trap they were taking their sweet time with it (and had staged it well), but she didn’t worry about it considering March had agreed to come with her. With March by you you didn’t really worry about much. “‘Bout another day I’d say,” Adeline said, standing back up and dusting off her hands. March was scanning the horizon, DeSoto sitting patiently by his side. “That long?” York asked, and the barest end of March’s tail twitched. York was annoying him, Adeline knew. He’d signed ‘King’ to her about him, which to her made very little sense as he was alone, but March did have some very strange definitions of words at times so perhaps he’d just meant ‘someone from a noble house’, which March was not particularly fond of. Actually quite a few in the clan seemed to have that- She paused and looked up at a noise, zeroing in on where it came from like a hunting cat and training her eyes on it. York for his part just saw her freeze, the strange glittery (Android? Robot? York didn’t really want to ask) guard that was next to him moving around and by her right shoulder, the red painted steelhound taking her left. He tried to see what she was searching for, but around them was just those gross slightly fungal and bulging Plague trees and the barest chirping of some insects. The sandy soil where Adeline had spotted the tracks led out into open space, but there was nothing there either. After a moment York became uncomfortable in the silence. “Excuse me-” he whispered when a man came stumbling out of the trees, spotted them and then froze as if he’d been caught doing something. York ducked behind Adeline.  Not the bravest reaction, in retrospect.

“Wait,” she said. “Hawk?”

“SHORTSTACK?” the man replied, a grin spreading across his scarred and dirty face. He looked like he’d been travelling for quite a while- his entire ensemble was stained, torn and mud splattered.

“HAAA!” Adeline said, opening her arms and making an excited keening noise, which the man (Hawk?) returned before running over and hugging her. From this distance York could now smell him quite clearly, and the scent was something along the lines of ‘fermented fruit and garbage left in the sun.’ Absolutely horrendous. Was this just how people in Plague lived?

Hawk pulled away and looked her over. York was slightly embarrassed for his home flight to see he had snow white Ice eyes. Perhaps he’d just taken going native a bit far. “So,” Hawk said, glancing over to March, who had those almond red eyes on him for just a moment before determining he wasn’t a danger and looking back to the horizon. “Guard duty or somethin’?”

“Nah,” Adeline said, smiling and putting a hand on his shoulder before reaching into her bag for a water skin. “Hunting. You?”

“Lookin’ for a gig, I suppose,” he said, taking the skin from her and swigging a drink. “Not real hard, though, obviously. What the hell you huntin’ with this bunch though? The grand daddy of all Wave Sweepers?” He looked from the steelhound to York, who had to resist the urge to duck back behind Adeline. She shrugged. “Ha! Didn’t ask, did you?”

“Guess it needs doing,” she replied, handing him some dried food, which he immediately stuffed into his mouth.

“And lemme guess...ain’t gettin paid?” he said, mouth half full of food. She shrugged again. “Ain’t changed a bit.”

“I’m...” York said, attempting to speak up. “I don’t mind paying.”

“Yeah sure,” Hawk said, turning around and facing the direction they were heading. “Let’s go find whatever stupid thing needs to get dead.”

----

“So, um,” York said as they walked, Adeline moving in looping circles around them collecting various items. He’d been annoyed at that at first, but it became clear she was scavenging more supplies, a thing he didn’t think they would need until they picked up Hawk. He supposed it was always good to be prepared, even if being prepared meant coming back holding a bloody skinning knife and smelling slightly of viscera. “How did you two meet?”

“Could ask both of you the same question,” Hawk said, lighting a dog eared hand rolled cigarette. He glanced to March who in answer flipped him off. “Ha! Arright.”

“Ah yes,” York said, sort of glad to have Hawk between him and March now that he thought on it. “He came with her. I suppose they travel together on occasion. He’s not very talkative and I’ve been told not to take offense.”

“Yeah well, whatcha gonna do even if you do take offense?” Hawk said with a grin, looking at York out of the sides of his eyes, the other man’s darting from him to March and back again before subconsciously making sure that as much of him was hidden from the android as possible.  “Exactly,” Hawk said. Man Shorty always could pick ‘em.

He of course included himself in that category.

---

“I would really rather not,” York said, looking at the small tent. He hadn't really minded sharing one with Adeline and March despite the indecency of it. They were both at least clean and there was a definite sense of safety from them keeping watch all night, but adding Hawk in…

Especially a Hawk that had again not bathed and in fact had spent the day on the road with them occasionally wandering off to pick various flora that York was somewhat certain was not safe to ingest.

“If someone comes up to us I don't want you far away,” Adeline replied, kicking dirt onto the embers of the fire to put them out.

“Yeah, come in here and get real close,” Hawk said, already laying belly down on a bedroll.

“Knock it it off.”

“I'll knock some-”

“Hawk.”

“Yes mom.”

----

“Should...should we help?” York asked, watching Adeline circle the beast that he knew had taken more than a few lives. It was a massive thing, what could be described as a lizard mashed together with a wolf with huge front talons and breathing out ice and frost. It was really a good thing she’d had the foresight to bring along that steelhound, as it was running around keeping the thing distracted and sending out jets of flame to counteract the worst of it.

But still as he watched her he couldn’t help but feel responsible. He started forward, but he felt hands on his shoulders, one from Hawk and one from March (and March’s was more than a tiny bit unsettling simply because he could feel him being as gentle as possible). “Nope,” Hawk said, pulling him back. “She’s got this. Wait for her to say somethin’.”

“But she’s-”

“Look kid you don’t ask a hunter for help and then tell ‘em how to do the job,” Hawk said, breathing out a plume of smoke even as he could hear DeSoto’s flame being set off again, the growl and snarl and pure rage of the beast increasing as they stood there.

“March!” Adeline yelled over the noise, and immediately he took his hand from York’s shoulder and began walking forward. “Right leg!”

There was a sickly wet crack and York winced. The beast turned to snap at March and Adeline took the opportunity, jamming her spear into the exposed neck. “See?” Hawk said, gesturing towards the scene as March straddled the beast’s neck and...what was he doing?

There was another wet crack, this one more turning and crunching, and the thing shuddered and laid still, York putting his hands to his mouth in shock. “You, uh,” Hawk said, noticing that this probably wasn’t how he should be reacting. “You never see anything die before?”

“I have, just…” York said from behind his hands. “That thing was my father at one point.”

“Your...” Hawk started, then looked back down at the scene unfolding from their safe vantage on a hill. He could already see Adeline taking out a skinning knife, and some new person in all black pointing at something on the dead beast. “Wait! Crap crap crap!”

----

“AAADDDEEEEEE!!” they could hear way, way before they saw.

Adeline stopped, looking slightly annoyed and defeated. “Are you freakin’ serious?” she asked, mostly to herself as Hawk started grinning.

“ADELIIINNNEEEE!” the voice yelled again, and whoever it was they could get some volume.

Adeline cupped her hands to her mouth and yelled, though obviously she didn’t have the lung capacity of whoever was screaming for her. “JACK YOU’RE GONNA ATTRACT EVERY DAMN RAIDER IN THE NORTH!”

“TELL THEM TO BRING IT I NEED A BODY ANYWAAAYYYYY!”

“Gods, let’s just find him and get home,” she muttered.

---

“So what the hell is it?” Santi asked Grenfell as they sat at a table in The Warehouse, looking over the two items sitting atop a blood splattered null cloth. Apparently Bryan had been the one to point out the egg-like object imbedded in the creature York had asked Adeline for help with, and she’d cut it out of the thing and wrapped it.

The other thing looked like a crown, but grimy with blood, hair, and muscle as though it’d grown onto the creature’s head and had been pulled off.

“Oh this is interesting…” Grenfell said, picking up the small stone egg, cracked in places with lines of gold showing as though it’d been repaired with it. He looked it over as though inspecting a rare jewel and Santi waited for an explanation. He could see the inscriptions hovering in the air just above the thing but he didn’t have Gren’s expertise. “Someone very much wanted to kill someone.”

“Didn’t seem like it worked then, if Ade and March had to put him down,” Santi replied, turning his head and trying to piece together the script and what it did on his own. Anything egg shaped was bad, anything Gren really liked doubly so.

“Oh no no no,” Grenfell said, his grin growing wider. “You see this is more of an area of effect curse. Set it somewhere and people will begin changing into twisted forms. It's rather like what used to happen to animals here in the City if they stayed too long, but much more concentrated,” and here Gren paused and looked into Santi’s gem eyes. “The best part is they change into monsters based on personality! A vain person may become a swan beast, wolf for viciousness-”

“Ah, yes, so…” Santi said, cutting him off. “Is it working right now?”

“Indeed! It isn’t really something you can turn off.”

Santi looked at the egg again. “...and you’re touching it with your bare hands?”

“Please,” Gren said, waving him off with one hand while still holding the thing in the other. “If cursed objects could kill me I’d be dead several times over. Do be rational.” Santi sat back, crossed his arms and gave him a look that could melt steel. “Besides this very much works off of intent. The maker poured everything they had into this little thing, and their hatred burned outwards. Since we are not the object of ire it would take much longer to work on us.”

“But it’ll still work?”

“Yes, of course.”

“So how do we destroy it?”

“No idea!” Grenfell said happily, still looking over the thing as though slightly fascinated. Santi buried his head into his hands. “What? I’ve never made one before. You literally have to die to power it.”

“Someone-” Santi started, then looked back to the egg. “Is someone’s soul in that??”

“Oh no, just their life essence, magic, and their last dying wish for revenge,” Grenfell said. “A real go-getter, whoever it was. Plus someone likely had to sneak it into the intended cursee’s residence. Shows some real planning that it worked out.”

“And the crown?”

“It’s just a stupid crown,” Grenfell replied, not even looking at it. “Clean it off and sell it. Who cares?”

Santi glanced back and forth between the objects. Something was still bothering him. “But why didn’t the curse affect York? It apparently affected the rest of his family.”

“Could be a few reasons,” Grenfell said. “Some sort of protection, or perhaps the curse maker just didn’t hate him as they did the rest.”

“Man,” Santi said, shaking his head. “How bad did they have to screw up for someone to make that?”

“All it really takes is angering one wrong person,” Grenfell said. “But why couldn’t I have had fun enemies like this?”