#(ARTAIR IS SO SWEET GET OUT)

[gunslinginnhogtyin]

A bag is placed in front of Butch. Artair's expression is almost hopeful as he looks at him, placing it on the table between them.

Inside seems to be a lot of bullets! A whole bag of them. Runes in curling, decorative markings are inlaid on the bullets and casings. The lines look almost like a coppery gold, and have a glimmering prismatic sheen. There's a hum of energy to each one to anyone sensitive to magic.

"I ah... made these for you." Artair offers, fingers starting to tap together in front of him. "I don't know if you even need them? I mean you're always so resourceful and all." He shoves his hands in his pockets. "But ah... you know. If you're ever dealing with some supernatural bullshit and mundane bullets don't cut it.... I just had this thought that maybe I could give you a little magical boost, haha. And you know-- I need to improve on some of my skills too! So. It was good practice even if you don't use them. And you don't have to take them either! But.... I hope they help. If you do."

// @townofcadence

Butch can feel the magic radiating off of the bag as it’s placed before him. Curiosity piqued, he pulls the bag over to himself, looking between it and Artair before peeking inside.

He plucks one of the bullets out, surprise taking up his face as he turns it in his fingers, admiring Artair’s craftsmanship. He had handmade these…? For him? He can feel a sudden swelling in his chest as he looks back to Artair, a familiar feeling it seemed only the other man was able to evoke from him.

Artair speaks and he listens as the other tells him about what they’re capable of, a smile stretching across his lips all the while. When the taller of the two finishes speaking, Butch snatches him by the collar of his shirt to bring him to his height, planting a kiss on those lips of his.

“Course I want ‘em! This’s—… ya didn’t—er, thanks so much! I love it!” Dropping the shell back into the bag, he picks it up and holds it to his own chest with a smile, peppering a few more kisses upon Artair’s face before releasing his shirt. His spaded tail wags behind him excitedly at the prospect of using them if he’s ever in danger and facing something that happened to be magic or otherworldly (which seemed to happen an awful lot so he’s positive they’ll come in handy!).

“Y’did one helluva job, Artair! Th’ engravin’s… how’d ya get it so small? I didn’t even know y’could make stuff like this—an’ magic? Color me ‘mpressed! Hehehe, shoot. F’only we had somethin’ like this when we battled that snake freak, huh?” He snorts, wrapping his beloved in a tight hug, bag still in hand.

“Mmmm! Y’gotta stop bein’ so perfect’re yer gonna make me lose my mind~”

[townofcadence]

The hand is soft against his back. Artair realizes who it is without even needing to see him. Just the feeling alone is enough, and there's as much shame as their is gratitude. He hates the idea of Butch seeing him like this-- they'd been through hell together, or at least Resonance, which was adjacent to something hellish. Him being this way because of a woman with a phone camera feels.... small. Smaller still at the brusque response from Butch.

The annoyance isn't strictly at him, he's sure, but it's hard not to let the guilt crawl it's way into his throat. He didn't mean to put him in this position. He didn't even know he was here and now he's having to swoop in and it's--- not okay. But the apology stays on his tongue, the words to offer it scrambled a bit too much to articulate. And it might be best they are, given Peyton's presence.

"Harpy?" The woman bristles at the words, but her tone comes out almost pleasant compared to her expression. Her camera raises back up. "How dare you-- can't you see we were having a conversation? One you have no part in?" She looks him up and down, the camera following suit. "Who do you think you are? Also Halloween was last week, Texas Pete."

The panic is still welling up inside at a steady rate, but the adrenaline is keeping it at bay, especially when he sees that camera angled at Butch. It could be live. Butch didn't understand-- he didn't even know about social media, he hardly understood his own phone. If he was caught on camera, if he did something not human or-- something very human for his time, he could go viral or something, and the kind of harassment that could come with that, the more eyes that saw you....

He's heard the doxxing stories. The people picking you apart with theories and thoughts because to them you're just a concept. And Butch isn't online, but he'd be vulnerable to people like Peyton, or the wrong people seeing that video. He didn't know her audience, but if she was big enough scale, it could end with even her disagreement sending fans after someone else just to 'protect' her. Or they could just want to--- to get a chance with the 'demon cowboy' and try to find him and harass him and stalk him. And given what people doing that could do....

Artair steps in front of Butch with a small side-shimmy, to block him from view. The hair makes that easier.

"C-come on, Peyton." He sounds softened and calm, more calm then he felt. His hand was starting to shake until he pressed a prosthetic thumb against the palm of his glove. He locks his joints to manage the tremble. It doesn't stop his heart from racing, but nothing will right now. His eyes stay on the phone. "D....don't. He's right-- this-- this is a library. Not the place. Phones aren't even allowed."

She stares at him. Then she presses a button on her phone and it lowers. "Fine. Fine. Then we'll just go elsewhere, how about that?" Her voice drops to a respectable library tone. Her hand reaches out to snag his wrist. "But I'm getting my story. From the source."

Butch wasn’t much for books or reading for that matter, but recently (while perusing a friends book store) he’d discovered that books weren’t super boring like they used to be. Some had images in them, pictures that told him what the words were trying to convey! Even better, some were nothing but pictures—panels of action with little thought bubbles to read instead. The visuals kept him engaged and the conversational nature of what he’d learned were called “graphic novels” didn’t lose his attention right away because of it.

It’s for this reason that he’s decided that visiting a nearby library was worth his time. The books were free, and there were plenty of areas in the building to read unbothered. Not to mention, he wouldn’t have to lug the book along with him afterwards—he could just put it back on the shelf and be on his way!

Upon entering the building, Butch would find that there was an unexpected event going on—either that or it had been promoted and he just wasn’t privy to it. Either way, it’s a pleasant surprise and he takes to browsing, immediately gravitating towards the graphic novel and comic book section. In the midst of his search, a familiar voice reaches his ears from a few tables down and he would peer over to find Artair having a conversation with a woman he’d never seen. He decides it’s none of his business and turns his attention back to the comic book he’s skimming but it’s hard to focus, his attention being drawn to their conversation.

Yes, he’s kind of eavesdropping. Unintentionally! It sounded like this woman knew Artair and some other fella who supposedly disappeared? He’s not sure, it’s hard to keep up with the line of questioning, but it seems to become a bit hostile. Not in tone, of course, it’s just—to him it sounds invasive. Just who was this woman and was it really any of it her business? She carried herself like some sort of journalist with the way in which she bombarded Artair with questions, not giving him a moment to respond before moving right on.

Still, Artair was a grown man and could defend himself. Even still, he’s fighting the urge to step in which he promptly stops fighting the moment he hears that stammer from Artair. He clearly doesn’t know how to respond and this chick was up in his business! The cowboy sets his book back down where he’d got it and approaches casually, as much as he wants to stomp over to make his presence known. A hand moves to press gently against the small of Artair’s back as he steps in, eyes sweeping over the woman who’s clearly overstepping a boundary with a captious stare.

“Hey now, what’re we playin’ here? Twenty questions? Maybe it ain’t yer story t’tell, harpy.” Butch interjects, cutting her off. A little rude, maybe, but he didn’t take kindly to the passive aggressive accusation. Artair is quick to mediate as expected, assuring him that there’s no problem and that he needn’t worry, but—

“—Too late.” He retorts, turning his attention back to the woman after taking in Artair’s bristled expression. “S’hardly a conversation f’one party can’t even get in a word, ain’t it?” He sounds genuinely curious but there’s a hint of smarminess laced with his tone, coupled with an annoyed dead pan expression.

“Yer bein’ annoyin.” He states bluntly, “Library’s a place t’read, not t’yap. Why don’cha go make up yer own story an’ leave th’ man be?” He suggests as passive aggressively as he can muster.

[nightmaresgiven]

@townofcadence from here

He doesn't remember how he got here. Artair feels metal beneath him, the hard surface uncomfortable and cold. His arms are strapped down with leather belts far too thick to make sense. A test of movement, and his legs are restrained as well. Artair's breath catches. It smells like the same cleaner, the same antiseptic scent he remembers. He squirms in place, yanking on the buckles binding his hands down. They don't budge. A glance around only confirms things. He's on a table, and he can see the stand of surgical tools placed carefully nearby. There's a deep-welled sink in the corner, and glass cabinets filled with things-- both reagents for the kind of work one would do on a table such as this, and others that glow, or move, specimens of others like him. The beat of his heart is hammering behind his ribs. He kicks his legs, he wrenches his arms. The force might dislocate something, but that hardly matters. It already feels like his chest is on fire, and all he can think is get out get out get out--. The door opens across the room. Artair struggles harder, eyes wide and aglow and sharp teeth bared, seeing a silhouette backlit by white light. His brain fills with static and he can't breath and his ribs itch and ache and all his insides vice tight enough to suffocate. It has to be a dream--- he's not here anymore. He not. He thrashes wildly, the effort near drowning out the faintest sound of jingling bells.

It wasn't often that he found one's who had so much good material to work with! Most people were so boring, their worst nightmares dealt with showing up somewhere important with no clothes, or being ostracized from society somehow. But this one! Ohhhh this one was his very own sweet nightmare come true! This mind was rich with turmoil and unrest, so many things the subconscious was struggling with on its own.

It had been so hard to pick just one thing to play with!

But it's been awhile since he's really gotten his hands dirty, and what better way to do so than by putting them inside of someone? Physically, at least, if you think about it he was in people all the time-- in their minds! But that was a different kind of mess.

And he gets to make such a dramatic entrance, here! The door creaks open slow, revealing a silhouette too familiar for comfort to the other. And then he pauses, lets him really soak in that fear, before moving into the room. The silhouette that was oh so familiar shifted until, well-- Cosmo isn't disguising himself, and he certainly looks different from some evil broad or whatever went down here. Felt too literal to be one of those metaphor dreams!

"Hey there, no need to be so im-patient!" He laughs at his own pun. "I'll get you cut open here real soon!"

[ghosthuntcr]

@townofcadence from here

The padded chairs are comfortable, but the frames are build of solid, thick pinewood. On the armrests, a band of metal built into the frame has been closed and locked over both wrists on each of their arms. Artair jerks against his bindings, thrashing, but solid wood was much harder to maneuver in any truly useful way. Of the two, his mouth is the one gagged, if only to keep that clever tongue from spilling spells. He makes a noise, but it's garbled nonsense, and he jerks harder, to no avail. The wood of each leg seems bolted to the ground. "Ah ah." Richard intones with his reveal, standing with his hands clasped behind him. "None of that, darling." His eyes scan Artair as if appraising him, and his smile seems deceptively warm. They flick to his counterpart. Steph is also restrained, though he has been permitted to speak, mouth free of cloth and tape. "I hope you two are comfortable down here. Though I'm afraid no other arrangements can be made. Unless one of you would prefer to lie down? Not you, of course. You might find some way to make me regret that." He glances back to Artair. "But perhaps....you?" Baby blue eyes are back on Steph now, and his smile only seems to widen. "Though perhaps you don't need it either, Mm? You still seem a bit drowsy. Was Teddie perhaps a bit too rough with your invitation, Darling? I apologize."

Steph groans softly as he comes to, eyes fluttering open. His head hurts, and he feels... very disoriented. But he can hear some commotion next to him, and sees Artair? He goes to reach for the other but quickly finds that he's cuffed down to a chair just like his dear friend's. What even happened, that they were here? An escape room? No, he hadn't had anything like that planned, and that sorta thing costs money.

But then there's someone else, and wow his accent sure is cool! And, oh that's sweet, he wants them to be comfy. He's still a bit slow to process, unable to connect the dots just yet... until the other mentions someone called Teddie being rough. "Teddie..?" He asks, searching his mind. That's right! He'd been doing, something, and this really big guy came in a hurry and bonked him on the head! He'd looked like he was in some sort of rush. Wait a minute... he got bonked, and woke up in-- his eyes glance around them briefly-- a weird prison basement looking thing, and they were basically tied up, and Artair was struggling, and gagged.

Each piece of information he strings together gains momentum with the next, his brain firing faster and faster. It feels like a ball of electricity in his chest, growing and growing until-- Mismatched eyes are wide and filled with sparkles, no longer bearing any of the drowsiness from before. His hands instinctively go to raise but are stopped, though he doesn't seem to notice much. He leans towards Richard as much as he can, a grin on his face. "Oh. My. Stars. Did you kidnap us?! I've never been kidnapped before! Except for kinda that one time at this fae carnival but that was different because I walked into it and wasn't tied down or in a basement or anything but this! Wow! I got knocked out and, oh, my head still kinda hurts actually." His torrent of words is paused only briefly for a laugh. "But I can't believe it! I got knocked out and kidnapped and now I'm tied up in what's probably a basement! There really is a first time for everything! Honestly I thought this would've happened a lot sooner, not that anyone ever hopes to get kidnapped I guess but I totally thought something like this might happen at some point! Wow, and to think it didn't even happen on a case, that's so neat!"

[maddgical-boy]

madd ask game!! (from @scuttledusk!) yet another lantern eclipse guy because. well. i’m brain rotting i guess BUT!

his name is Pearl Artair! He’s 32 years old and uses he/him pronouns, and his faceclaim is Ncuti Gatwa <3 he’s so babygirl

Pearl is the owner of the Visionary, a queer nightclub/bar in the Violet District! He’s incredibly charismatic and capable of making just about anyone feel comfortable around him, and he also gives off distinct old money vibes (mostly through the way he speaks and dresses) despite that being entirely false lmfao. Big academic words, an English accent, and faux-designer clothes can get a guy a long way yk??

Pearl is undeniably a very kind person!! He cares about everything and everyone all the time so much that it hurts!! He does however have the unfortunate tendency to mask all that hurt behind a little charming smile, so. owie. He also has the need to feel like he’s in control of everything happening in his life, but he’s also very good at being in charge so most of the time it’s a win/win. And!! He’s got book smarts AND street smarts! double package baybee

sorry if this is wildly incoherent it’s uhhhhhHHH late here 😭 BUT! picture me slowly pushing him towards u across a poker table <3 here’s his collage

he is perfect. i shall matchmake him with ME /j

i think he would be a perfect match with my para august fitzsimmons! his faceclaim is shane madej, one of my favorite internet funny guys

august is a religious studies professor! (the science of religions) he strives to be a really good educator to all of his students and wants them to feel like they can come to him for any problem. (though, his kindness means he can often forgive people too much or be taken advantage of.) he loves learning new things about the world and telling people fun facts, as a treat :>

pearl and august would be so cute together imo, just two sweet guys out on the town. singlehandedly could create world peace HAVSKSJDF

but seriously they would be like that cute little couple everyone knows and thinks is wholesome. they both have issues with repressing negative emotions but knowing them, they would probably just take turns talking to each other about it lol

[celticbarb]

Book: Sworn to the Scot

Author: Emma Prince

Series: Four Horsemen of the Highlands

Book Order: Number #4

Print Length: 296 Pages

Release Date: November 16, 2023

Overall Rating: 5/5 Stars

Blog Rating: 5/5 Saltire Flag

King John Balliol, great pretender King, usurper King who forcefully stole the throne from Robert the Bruce’s four year old son’s during the second war of independence. This great pretender King has ordered his soldiers to slaughter any warrior that does not support him! Lairds MacAyre, MacLeod, MacNeal and MacKinnon all meet in prison starving to death, sentenced to hang where they had been giving very little food and water. The three Lairds saved Laird MacAyre from his hanging and became brothers and made an oath of revenge and vengeance for all who were traitors to them and their country. Also known as The Four Horsemen from the apocalypse in the book of Revelation in the New Testament of the Bible.This is Artair MacKinnon’s tale, in the fourth and last installment of The Four Horsemen of the Highlands, Book 4 and the series finale.

Scone, Scotland 1332

Artair MacKinnon is out for revenge after the cruel evil usurper is to blame for his young brother’s death! He is more than ready to get rid of this great pretender who stole the throne from Robert the Bruce’s four year old son during this second war of independence! Plus he is nothing but the English King’s puppet and only cares for himself! He was assigned to this classified mission with Lady Sybil Douglas, who was to keep this mission confidential and under wraps so no one would suspect them of this secret attack. Especially since he will be keeping his true identity a secret and pretending to be Lady Sybil’s bodyguard. On top of that she is the Guardian of Scotland’s daughter.

Artair agrees to find out information for a secret attack. The problem is Lady Sybil Douglas is his delicate partner in crime for this highly classified operation! They start off like oil and vinegar both wanting to be the boss and the leader of the operation and seem to know how to get under each other's skin that makes them furious with each other! A noblewoman who thinks she’s always right and Artair who thinks this woman was born with a silver spoon in her mouth is only going to slow him down and be in the way. However in this mission she pretends to be a high born lady diplomat and Artair pretends to be her bodyguard. Yet without drawing a lot of attention to themselves except unknown to them a big surprise is waiting for them!

The problem is their forced captivity in such a small space in this mission forces them to get close and cozy and really know what is in their true hearts and this attraction quickly builds.The problem is she is the one woman he is not allowed to put his hands on being the daughter of the Guardian of Scotland. However he gave his word she would be in safe hands and no one would put their hands on her or seduce her!

Furthermore she is supposed to marry another, for a political alliance which is not unusual for a noblewoman. However this is a very high nobleman with royal bloodlines. The Guardian made certain Artair knew that, in case he had any other romantic ideas for his beautiful daughter!

For Sybil Douglas how can she refuse this honest, braw, handsome highlander? Even if he is rough and tough around the edges, as it is just another appealing thing she is attracted to. Sybil sees into Artair’s true heart and all that he has suffered and how he wants to protect Scotland from a tyrant as well as the less fortunate!

This could ruin their mission as well as break their hearts. What can this couple possibly do to succeed in their mission and in their love? Could this possibly ruin everything including Scotland? Read and find out.

Another phenomenal read in the series finale that I absolutely loved. Showing how a sour mission turns into sweet love! However this love might ruin everything and put everything they worked for in jeopardy and possibly start a war! A book readers don’t want to miss.

I love when true iconic Scottish characters from history like this usurper King that everyone hated are weaved into these romantic fictional stories! Also the guardian of Scotland and the Earl of Carrick are part of Scotland’s true history! It makes the book that much more fun and exciting to me when real historical figures are included in the story. It is a finale where all the four horsemen will finally reunite. A finale that is both unforgettable and absolutely breathtaking! A book I highly recommend!

This is definitely a book readers don’t want to miss! A magnificent series finale that will dazzle readers from start to finish! Bravo Emma Prince well done indeed!

Disclaimer: I received a gift copy from the author for a fair and honest review. I read this voluntarily for free to read, review and blog. All words, ideas and thoughts are my own.

[gunslinginnhogtyin]

"Hey Butch..." Artair looks nervous almost. "I know this might be a weird question but... do you... um. Do you think I could check on your wings? I haven't looked at them for a little while. I just want to make sure they look healthy." They were a part of Butch, after all, so he wanted to make sure they were doing well. Also they were cute, as much as he held back on that thought due to the messy circumstances.

// @townofcadence

When Artair approaches him, the subject of his wings is probably the last thing he expects him to bring up. It doesn’t upset him, of course, not coming from Artair… but he can feel the slightest bit of warmth rising to his cheeks, probably on account of the concern in his voice. It was a nice having someone care enough to ask how he was doing, let alone inquire about a life altering event for him. And it was Artair inquiring no less.

Butch stares for a little bit too long, a look of surprise in his eyes as he processes the question. In truth, he had done his best to ignore the pesky growths. It wasn’t easy considering he had to get dressed everyday and they were a constant reminder, but thankfully he had learned how to hide them by making them vanish just like he could with his tail! It took a lot more out of him, sure, but it kept passerby’s from having a staring problem and him from decking them in the face because of it!

Honestly, he’d rather not think about them. He’d rather not see them. If he could just pretend they weren’t there and have them go away permanently, he absolutely would. But… it was so sweet of Artair to ask, and—he had experience with this kind of thing, it was probably for the best if he checked on them. Lord knows he hadn’t!

“Ah… s-sure, f’ya want to.” The cowboy says a little sheepishly at first. He can’t leave it at that, though. He doesn’t want Artair to think it bothers him as much as it truly does, having those things apart of him now. So naturally, he falls back into a joke,

“I mean…sheesh, f’ya wanted me t’take off my shirt, y’coulda jus’ asked, y’know~

[townofcadence]

The Crow is here with a gift because of course he is!

"Ah...uhm... I was told it is your day of birth..? I am not used to such celebrations so I asked about it. The Heart said that it is important to give a gift to the person whose day of birth it is. The Merchant said it is customary to wear a bow on one's head for the occasion..." The Merchant had definitely just been messing with the Crow, but alas, he did not notice and now he's looking like a little present himself.

He offers the gift to Artair. It is a fairly simple box, though the contents of the box clearly took some thought and effort. There was a little nest made out of twigs, leaves, and some strands of animal hair. Inside the nest are two little birds that have been made out of various materials; twigs, straw, feathers, and dried flower petals. One looks like a crow, the other like a mixture of a Strawberry Finch and a Gold Finch. They are admittedly a little... primitive... looking, but he's tried his best!

"Happy...day of birth?"

(apologies, I got a bit carried away when I saw it was his birthday :p)

@forestofforever // Birthday Shenanigans!

A smile comes to his face as the Crow speaks. He is still kind of surprised to be receiving anything at all, especially when he's hardly spoken about his birthday. The idea of obligating someone to center him is one he hates. So if people find out, he's fine with it, but he doesn't say anything, so no one has to remember.

Color him surprised that the Crow found out. Maybe he'd overheard something. Or talked to his uncle? Whatever the case may be, it's beyond sweet, and he's touched just seeing the box, and the bow planted on the Crow's head.

"You're too kind." Artair accepts the box. "You didn't have to get me anything. Gosh... Though, ha, the Merchant was probably messing with you a little. The bows usually go on the gifts." But then a hand comes out and rub along one of his feathery cheeks. "Though in that case you still got it right. Because you're definitely a gift to me too, haha."

Artair pulls it from the box once he's opened it, and his smile is already bright. "Aw! Look at them! They look like us, that's so adorable." He lifts it, inspecting all the little pieces. It may be rudimentary in craftsmanship, but it is made with love he can feel through his fingertips, and it is honestly so thoughtful and beyond what he is expecting.

Artair points at the crow, with a smile. "I love it. That one is totally me, right?"

[townofcadence]

The boys would have two VERY different approaches to the scenario of Artair being called a monster.

Jonas would come up to the bat in Artair's defense and in a heartbeat. A remark like that would absolutely override any desire to people please he feels THAT strongly about it regardless of if he knows about Artair's true nature (possibly it would piss him off even more if he knows). Excuse me WHERE do they get off calling his friend something like that? His first instinct would be to get Artair somewhere out of the vicinity of this prick and their nasty hurtful words and then after that promptly go to work. He wouldn't care who the fuck they were or what influence they would have or how many job opportunities it would ruin for him, he'll burn his bridges on Artair's behalf in a second. His tendency would be more using his words to tear them a new one, to socially destroy them and their reputation in the circles they frequent and oh would this little guy hold a BIG grudge towards them and anyone who associated with them.

Mr. Fox on the other hand well. Now he'd usher Artair off somewhere as well, his first concern like Jonas would be how it was affecting Artair. He'd be remarkably calm and cool about it all, dismissive of it as idle words from an idiot.

But only because later he's planning to find that offender in some dark quiet alleyway and oh he will show them what a real monster looks like and why they need to fear them. If there's an apology somewhere in the midst of his work well he will graciously accept it on Artair's behalf and communicate it to Artair later. He will also gladly let fate determine if they survive afterwards. If they don't well...one less waste of a human being in the world. If he has his way Artair won't ever find out

@foxedthecards // Calling Artair a Monster

PFFF Jonas pulling a Peyton Protocol for Artair is so sweet though. He won't ruin them physically, but honestly socially will do SO MUCH MORE DAMAGE to a person a lot of the times!! Boy knows how to pull strings and that can really make a huge difference lol. I think Artair would be worried if he burned any of his bridges though, he doesn't want Jonas to lose any opportunities, but he'd be grateful that Jonas wants to do so for him, even if he tries to stop it and says that sometimes being called a monster is just a fear reaction to something you don't understand.

Fox he'd be grateful for removing him from the situation too, because he's just glad when it doesn't escalate. He was honestly more worried about him rising to the bait but it's so great and just proves fox is such a good guy that he chose to take the higher road. Better hope he doesn't find out about secret alley time though!! then he might look really sad and cross his arms even!!

[townofcadence]

Well! That went about.....85% according to plan! The fifteen percent when he forgot how top-heavy he was and fell through the hole in the roof-- didn't count! He didn't remember how heavy snakes were, and he'd landed on something soft in the attic, so he was chalking it up to a minor issue and a couple of bruises at best. He'd brushed himself off, clambered his way back up there via a ladder ouside, and finished the job. And he'd done a pretty good one, too! Hopefully it'd pan out like he hoped.

That done, most of what was left was puttering around and organizing and cleaning. He'd taken a break to get in contact with a friend on the phone, to get the food he needed delivered. Jace, he couldn't trust not to be at least a bit curious (thank goodness neither he or Steph had found out something was up). But Saffron? He was a sweet guy, but his own shadow scared him sometimes. If he told him not to come inside and leave what he'd asked for on the porch--- the man would, simple as that. So he'd gotten what he needed from him, and reimbursed him for the trouble.

So now, he hand ingredients for multiple things. He stowed them on the counter and in the fridge. And then the rest of the day went to cleaning, organizing, and putting up some decorations. He'd get some of the baking done tonight, and finish up tomorrow! So now, it was just a matter of invitation left.

Artair's fingers played with one another, while he looked at his phone. Then he tapped out a small message.

[townofcadence]

💐 he’s holding out a bouquet he’s put together himself this time; he’d gathered a bunch of flowers he’d come across on his travels that had reminded him of Artair including Iris’, Lotus’, Red Camellias, and Blue Stars. There’s a rosebud or two in there thorns and all but they’re tucked near the middle so Artair doesn’t accidentally prick his finger taking them. “They ain’t anythin’ near’s pretty as you, but, ah… ahah. They made me think’f ya.”

Surprise My Muse with Flowers

Artair's eyes roam the bouquet as he takes it carefully in his hands. His eyes scan over every flower, plant, and-- he has to wonder, if Butch knows what they mean. Maybe not, he didn't know what the ones he'd given him before were. But it's.... sweet. Special. Butch is.... he's really something. He smiles, almost hiding his face behind the bouquet as he brings them up to take in the scent. He loves camellias, but all of them together--- it's a wonderful blend of fresh cut stems and the soft floral aroma of sweet flowers.

The feelings inside are too much, too much to know how to handle. He feels like he's shaking in the hands, and goosebumps rise over his skin. The heat is getting to him, almost painful, but he has no complaints. He almost buries his face now, amongst the flowers, but without touching them, so nary a bud or leaf falls out of place.

".....Thank you." He mumbles. His chest is pounding. He feels breathless. It's so silly of him to feel like this of all things, but-- Butch is too sweet, too kind, too perfect. "I-- I love them. You picked some-- um. They're really lovely. The arrangement is-- Butch, they're perfect, you shouldn't have. I...." Was it possible to be more flustered than flustered? He can't even think of how to say anything. "I-- I'm going to go put these in water. So they live as long as possible."

Then he'd dry them out, so he could keep one or two as a memento.

[townofcadence]

Artair notes the bag--- shuffling, in his lap. It's hard not to see when he's looking at the kid. It's definitely squirming a bit on his own, and he swears he can hear a meow? But the kid didn't feel like bad news, so he was probably shuttling a pet the best he could-- or maybe adopting a new one and didn't have a carrier. The sentiment is sweet.

He's still looking at him though, and now he's smiling. Man, this kid must've been having a really rough day if this meant so much. He grins back. "It's really no trouble." Now he shrugs, instead, a showcase of his ease in the situation. The question makes him glance towards one of the signs noting the next stop. "Mmmm-- just two away from this one coming up, I think. I'm getting off at....Jimbocho? Kanda-Jimbocho. I... hope I didn't butcher that." He lets out a small huff of a laugh. "The place with all the bookstores."

As the bag is placed on his lap, still held close, he can feel tiny paws readjust as Morgana says something in quiet confusion ("What happened? Did you get a seat?") that only comes out as meows to anyone else, once again drowned out with the rumble of wheels on tracks and the murmurings of strangers around them.

But he continues to watch the stranger in front of him with no small amount of gratitude and intrigue. Life in Tokyo is very much different to how life had been in Inaba, and has not been here for long. Getting lost in the urban jungle is a common occurrence for him, in the same way that getting looks for asking on certain things was. It was like people were too far in their own bubbles to really care much about what was happening outside them. The need to stay in their own lanes, but taken to the point of trying to avoid any other person.

But this, here, is a pleasant surprise, and Akira finds himself appreciating the small acts of kindness from strangers.

(A small reflection of himself: the inner desire to do right by others, even if they do not know him, even if it might put him in a worse position or, hell, put him in danger. He thinks of a recent evening.)

Lips quirk upwards in lieu of a small smile, and the young man chuckles. "...As long as you'll be okay standing," he finds himself saying, "but thanks. I really appreciate it." He's already given the sentiment once before, but reiterating it feels a bit more genuine and less rushed than before. "Where's your stop?"

[gunslinginnhogtyin]

«SPELL-BOUND»   for the sender to use a spell to entrap the receiver.

"Oh, what a sweet, noble little thing you are." It's easy enough to make Butch move with the cuffs on his arms, a magical binding shackling him to the ones on his own wrists. The rest of Butch is bound in emerald thread, so he's restrained for the moment with glittering patterns across his form. The person dragging him along looks like Artair if he was rolled in dirt, had shoulder-length hair, and it lacked the usual gradient for just his yellow, with a few streaks of brown. That, and this body was healthy, filled out like he ate regular meals. But already, scales in a myriad of greens were beginning to grow in patches ion his skin, becoming more and more visible as his magical alterations began to fade and weaken. If anything he seemed stronger now, as he dragged Butch through a cavern opening.

"Your friend calls, and you come running. How...endearing." The saccharine voice pairs well with the too-wide smile, as they drag him further into the first chamber of the cavern. There's a bifurcation, and they turn right. "It's too bad. Really, you ought to have been more cautious, you are truly much too pretty to be dying this young."

The tunnel opens up from their downwards trek to a large open area, studded with countless stalagmites. Stalactites hang far above too, near the roof of the cavern. A circle of runes on the floor light an acidic green, ringing the perimeter of this large amphitheater. With a tingling thrum, the threads binding Butch are gone. Resonance yanks him a few feet further by the manacles before he can find his feet, letting out a laugh that's almost familiar as he forces him that last stumble. "But don't worry, I'm sure if you try so very hard you can make your escape. Go on, little cowboy, feel free to try."

CAPTURE MY MUSE! // @townofcadence

«SPELL-BOUND»   for the sender to use a spell to entrap the receiver.

Butch felt stupid, to say the least, for falling for such an obvious trap. The moment he thought he heard his friend in danger, he had sprung into action—only to find that it wasn’t his friend at all. In fact, he’s not sure what this thing was… but it sure resembled Artair in a few ways, albeit with a few notable differences that weren’t quite obvious from afar in the dimness of the night.

This wasn’t the first time he had been bound by magic and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, so he’s far from fearful—more so AGITATED by this unfortunate turn of events and even more so when the thing begins to taunt him as he’s dragged along off to god knows where. “Shut up.” Butch growls, struggling in his confines yet again despite knowing his attempts are futile.

Whatever this thing was, it had some sort of dark aura surrounding it—god, if only his senses were a bit sharper. Perhaps he could recognize what sort of magic this was, or what this being was in general and then he could ponder his escape with what advantages he might have had. Sadly, that had always been his old partners area of expertise. Fuck.

The cowboy makes sure to keep an eye on their surroundings, hoping that remembering the location in which they had traversed so far will assist him in some way when making his escape. If he even gets the chance, that is. He’s determined to free himself, he had been in rougher patches before—he’s sure of it! So there was really no need to panic, and he doesn’t… not until dying is mentioned, anyway.

His eyes go a little wide and a nervous laugh escapes him, and suddenly he’s much friendlier than he had been on the entire trek here. “Heyyyy now—let’s not talk like that! Heh—“ Butch swallows his disgust before continuing, “U-Uh… this… pretty lil’ thing can do other stuff too, y’know… y’don’t have t’kill me.” He tries, looking from his captor and then around himself as they enter a peculiar tunnel. What the…?

Then, he stops and Butch feels the threads binding him dissipate just before being thrown forcefully forward which indeed causes him to stumble, his tail whipping around as he tries to maintain some balance. He nearly trips but manages to catch his footing just in time, shooting a glare at the thing that had nearly knocked him over. That laugh is what really pisses him off… the fact that it sounded like Artair, it disgusted him. Among other feelings, he’s confused as to how and why exactly this is happening. Surely this guy knew Artair, right? It was no coincidence they shared scarily similar physical attributes, right? There was no telling at this point.

A growl rumbles in the back of his throat but he has to stop himself from saying anything he’ll regret; he’s in an awfully compromising situation after all. Maybe playing nice was the best course of action. It had gotten him out of many scrapes before. Gritting his teeth, he has to force a smile, scoffing loudly in response to the others mocking,

“Tch! Escape? Th’ fun’s jus’ gettin’ started, ain’t it? Y’brought me alllll th’ way out here,” He gestures around himself with his bound wrists, looking around as well before his eyes land back on Resonance, “…an’ y’want me t’ escape? Let’s have a lil’ fun first! Or ‘least make a game out’f it? C’mon, what d’ya say~?” His tone is playful now, free of any worry. He could put on a little show if it meant waiting for an open opportunity to escape.

[townofcadence]

Here's the fun thing about having a laminate floor in a hotel room. You can do things like taking a running start and sliding in your socks right across the floor and in front of your sweet friend who is currently sitting on the couch. And totally not almost fall on your ass. Jonas did manage to narrowly catch himself in time and saved his dignity a bit by quickly dropping on his knees in front of Artair like he totally meant to do that the whole time!

He clears his throat and Artair suddenly finds himself offered a little boutonierre of snowdrops and light red carnations. " So...right...happy birthday, Artair! And uhm I'm gonna take you somewhere nice tonight, ok? Anywhere you want! I'm gonna treat you for your birthday, ok? Uhhhh....wait here!"

He patted himself down before pulling out a little list of activities to do in Las Vegas and presented it to him also, shuffling a little closer to get a better look. " So uhm. What do you want to try out? "

@foxedthecards // Birthday Shenanigans!

"Aw, Jonas...." Artair totally pretends he does not see any minor slips, and he accepts the flowers. He hasn't looked at the list yet, smiling up at Jonas instead. "You don't have to do anything--- I'm surprised you even knew it was today but--- really, this is enough. You thinking of me just... means a lot."

[townofcadence]

🐸 New/Developing Friendship ▲ Best Friends ♝ Found Family (with blake!)

Relationship Dynamics

Absolutely! I think Artair has a inherent desire to protect Blake. He's such a kind guy, and sweet as can be and reminds him of someone from his past who also had the worst befall him because of terrible luck. Artair wants to give him the best life he can and figure out some way to deal with shadow, and the two getting close and seeing each other as friends and family along the way would be so sweet !

[splinter-sister]

"Sweet! I actually grabbed two so if yew want one-" The hatch to the attic pulled open. The loud music poured up through the attic and out the open window with the accompaniment of creaky hinges keeping the ladder attached. Someone was coming up, giggling and dragging someone else with them.

"Shit!" Rachael grabs the bottles by the neck and quickly scrambles out of the window onto the roof. She got out and closed the glass to the window sill just as a group intoxicated party goers clamber up, laughing and talking like sailors. They must be looking for a quieter place to hang out as well. The last one up pulls the attic door shut behind them, trapping Rachael and Artair on the roof.

Rachael has a gecko esque way of laying on her back on the roof. She didn't want anyone else getting the same idea as them to take the party up onto the roof. This was probably the last place anyone could go for some peace and quiet. Her wide eyes dart to the side at Artair and them she holds out the two bottles still hanging between her fingers.

"Guess we're chillin' up here fer a while. Glad we got off on th' right foot. Yew weren't lying either! Yew did shower." She get a lopsided smile on her face.

Artair focuses on her when she speaks, taking her in as she leans out the window. She's pretty, her short hair an auburn that burns a bright red where the light of the fire below catches it. He had an undercut for a while himself, until he just gave up on maintaining it, but she makes it look cool. With the jacket and patches, he's definitely reading something alternative. It's only brought out further by the dark circles rimming her eyes.

He chuckles as she speaks, listening to the languid flow of her words. The gesture really sells it, and his smile grows a few fractions wider. When she taps the shingles and they slide away and fall like some well timed comedy sketch, that's when the laugh finally breaks out from him. He can tell no one downstairs was hit, there's no bloom of pain, so the worst that happened is they lost a pair of shingles. So-- he laughs. Artair covers his mouth, as if to cage the thing back inside, but it still escapes a moment or two longer.

When he reorients himself, he shifts a little further down the roof. "Ha... sorry-- I'm not laughing at you. But that was--- well, it was unlucky, but the face we both made-- ha, I'm pretty sure we were both thinking 'oh shit' when that thing started moving." He offers her a smile. "Anyways. I can promise I did shower today. So you can enjoy some nice clean air. And there's plenty of room. If you're making a break for it, and willing to trust this very reliable roof, then I don't mind sharing." He patted the shingles beside him, and by some miracle these didn't follow suit of the first ones.

"Still...If you want to bring a beer with you, I'm not gonna complain. It's a party, right? Might as well enjoy it."