#(Avelline next)

[hidden-nowhere]

reason to want ac1 remake: potential of more screen time for this sarcastic king

gifs for @paintsplantspaws

[creepy-crowleys]

“Years passed,” Lilith continued. “A thousand? Time moves strangely when Ages flip. Again, I searched. Just a century ago, a Norweigan explorer found a city entombed in the ice of Antarctica.” 

Crowley perked up at that. The journal she’d picked after her confrontation with Beaumont. The voice in the ice. “The Amundsen expedition.”

Lilith nodded sharply. “He vanished and I spent the next ten decades following his trail. I used a woman, a simple girl, to urge Avelline Belmont-” (Crowley winced as the name drove needles through her skull, familiarity tasting metallic on her tongue)  “-into doing most of the chasing for me. And I found it - a Gaia Engine buried in the ice. I- ” 

A horrific screech pierced the air, both women separating to avoid the dark mass that dove upon them, leathery wings ruffling with the speed of its descent. It caught the rooftop with gnarled talons, wings scrabbling at the surface as it twisted its bulk to snap a toothy mishappen beak in Lilith’s direction and nearly catching Crowley with the sweep of its lashing tail. ‘Lilith,’ it hissed in a voice Crowley knew all too well, rising to its full height to strike at the other woman once more.

“John, wait. We’re-”

The Filth bird’s beady eyes snapped to Crowley, a retort in throat, in the same instant Lilith caught its core with a burst of green magic, crushing it down to a more manageable size. The bird shrieked in its fury, whirling back on her and cracking its jaws on the barrier she she formed around herself.  Lilith glared at Crowley and jabbed a finger at her from the safety of her barrier. “Deal with this, if you want to hear more from me.”

Crowley tensed her jaw and huffed a frustrated sigh, wrapping her arms around the the thick trunk of the bird’s neck and yanking it back, away from Lilith. “John. Just. Give us a minute. I want to hear what she has to say,” she hissed to the bird thrashing in her grip.

‘Thought we had a deal, Chuck,’ the bird snapped back, throwing its weight against her and breaking her hold. Both pairs of wings splayed high in the air and came down with a wave of Filth dust in the rush of air between, sending Crowley diving out of the way.

When she righted herself, the bird stared down at her with a feral sort of hunger, no John in sight.

[creatorofcolour]

Day 3 of Twist today. What a fabulous festival with so many nice people. We need to get those #grocerygirls here next year. #twistfestival #twistfestival2018 #twistfibrefestival #mrsbrownsbags #theyarnsofrhicharddevrieze #rhicharddevrieze #rhicharddevriezeyarn #rhicharddevriezeyarns #fibrefestival #fiberfestival #crochet #knit #knittersoftheworld #knittersofinstagram #crocheteroftheworld #crochetersofinstagram #knitmoji #knitmojiworld #asimplerhome #closetoamish (at Saint-André-Avellin, Quebec) https://www.instagram.com/p/BmqOo8DHcS3/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=6gtkssmcfece