#She is a Babby

[kiwimeephu]

basketsmall

[loupy-mongoose]

Lil speech guide: Randy's speech Jamie's speech (Pokespeak will be in parentheses.)

It got pretty long, so under the Bar it goes!

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Jamie, the Gardevoir, and the three Lindens stood locked in tense silence. Randy fought to string together an explanation that wouldn't give away too much, while also trying to gauge Akoya's stance.

Jamie was the first to break the silence. Her expression hardened, her eyes displaying a sharp fury. Well? I'm not letting you a step further until I know it's not a threat.

The pointed stick in her hand lowered to point toward the family, and her authoritative tone chilled Randy. She meant business, which didn't help ease the man's racing mind.

Akoya answered before Randy could, her voice a bit too defensive in his opinion. It's none of your business what's in our bag. It's stuff for travel! What's wrong with that?!

Jamie clearly didn't believe her for a second. Her icy eyes bore into the white haired visitor. I won't tolerate a threat at my home. Tell me what's in there, or you WILL leave. Her eyes flashed ominously. Or worse.

Feeling a wave of protectiveness, Randy shuffled to stand in front of Akoya and Lavender. He hoped they couldn't feel the surge of utter dread that coursed through his body.

Listen, Jamie. He tried to keep his voice low, level, and non-threatening. What's in that bag is very precious to us, and we can't show you out here where others might see it. If we can go somewhere private, then maybe we can work something out.

He felt the sharp jab of Akoya's disapproval from behind him. Between her and the protesting red-head in front of them, he felt his resolve being wringed out of him.

Jamie stood still, her glare unwavering. After a moment, her head lifted slightly as she addressed their Pokemon company in an strong bark. (Darren, Sheila, Percy, please hide us with your wings.)

Percy and Darren gave startled, bewildered looks, while Sheila tilted her head and chuffed questioningly. But they did as she asked, reaching out to their widest wingspans, touching tip-to-tip with each other.

The Lindens hesitantly shuffled to adjust their positions as their space shrank.

There. Jamie eyed them all closely You wanted somewhere private; this is it. If you still won't show me, you'll have to leave.

Randy and Akoya glanced nervously at each other.

What could be done?

They came to a silent agreement.

Akoya turned back to Jamie, giving her a glare that verged on desperation. We're showing you because you forced our hand. NOT because we trust you. If you try anything...

To Randy's surprise, he caught a falter in Jamie's resolve, and something changed. A new expression slipped into her demeanor, if only barely.

Curiosity.

The look on Jamie's face turned from shock to determination.

Swiftly she addressed her three winged Pokemon. (Spread the word; we need to find a little pink Mew with blue accents. It is to be brought back to these three safely and secretly.)

The three beasts nodded in sincerity and took off.

Persim poked his head of of the bag, his face etched in horror, while Momo was shrieking. Stay in there for now, Perzi. Randy's voice was shaky, but reassuring. We'll handle it. Could you please try to calm Momo down?

The orange feline nodded uncertainly and ducked back into the bag. Randy saw a green bubble form in it as he zipped it shut. Momo's screams went quiet, but he knew it was just contained by the bubble. Poor Persim...

The red-headed girl looked solemnly at the devastated family, her expression softer than any of them had seen from her yet. I'm truly sorry about that... I promise you all, this is the best place for a Pokemon like them to be lost at. There will be lots of good Pokemon looking for them, and any humans will be curious at worst. It might scare them, but nobody will hurt them.

I would've done things differently if I'd known they were in there...

Akoya gave up looking nearby for her son and took a breath. She turned to Jamie, for once without venom. Listen, Jamie, with all due respect, we'll be able to find him easier than your little... network, or whatever you have here. He's gotta be terrified! He might just keep teleporting away if strangers find him, human or Pokemon...

Jamie folded her arms with a hesitant nod. You're free to search too, if you think so. Maybe you're right, and he'll only show for you guys. But if anyone spots him, I'll hear of it, so I'd best stick with you.

Akoya gave an uncertain look and opened her mouth to speak. But, feeling her about to protest, Randy interrupted her. We can talk later. Let's go find Midas.

~~~~~~

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New skill acquired~

And just for the fun of it, I'm uh... gonna share some of the (very) rough sketches I did for this part, because I find them hilarious.

Luna (my cat) randomly decided to leave the comfort of her cat tower to come lay on my arm. The trouble was, it was my drawing arm. So I made due. XD

[galaxywarp]

^ doesn’t know she’s going to the vet in a few hours

[esmes]

look at me baby, dead in my eyes it's the end of our holiday, but it isn't goodbye carry me with you all of the time eat of me baby, skin to the bone body on body, until I'm all gone but I'm with you, inside

🎥 @theriddletrades

[torra-and-the-toons]

Numbuh 9L carrying Nigel around by his hoodie and "bathing" him like he's her kitten [*runs away*]

Anon, how did you know what I was already drawing lmao

Nigel is portable, much to his own chagrin.

I just love their potential friendship SO much.

[magistralucis]

her name is milkshake. go girl give us nothing 🤗

[sporeclan]

do you have any lore to share about silverpaw, the starclan guide?

-🌾

I did have something in mind for her! I wasn't sure about it at first because the in game ages don't line up with this lore at all (having died 185 moons before SporeClan was founded, years before even Goldpurr existed). So I've gone and changed the ages because I liked the ideas I had

The basic jist of it is that Silverpaw was Crowwhistle's apprentice back when they were both members of PuddleClan. She was one of the first victims of the unrest and ensuing wars that took out the clans, and her death in particular was what threw PuddleClan into full on war with their neighbors.

[steeb-stn]

seeing screenshots of hemlock (or one of the cxs?) holding omegas little arm in their big rough hand at a painful angle and thinking… what if they had dislocated it…

What if when she hugs crosshair and hunter she only uses one arm, and when hunter realizes why his vision just. Blacks out with rage for a few seconds

[starryytales]

:C

Hampter,,,

[mareastrorum]

if Kalina was a baby familiar at the wedding, does that mean she was a wedding gift?

[seabeck]

a chicken named pickle.............. love her

Me too, she is precious

[neechees]

More bad-mom-sister complaining but not long ago my sister came to the house to scream at my mom for some incomprehensible shit at like 10 pm (basically taking out her frustration with her own choices & blaming my mom for it) which included getting mad that we didn't have the kids because they've been with the babby daddy this whole time (again, because my sister left them with him herself, because she didn't feel like being a mom, & my mom even told her to come take care of her kids & my sister replied "i don't want to". he's had them this whole time because she literally handed them to him and didn't want to get them back when she had the chance to)

[goldmouse]

KITTY KITTY KITTY KITTY KITTY

Please don't repost I will bite your knees

[loupy-mongoose]

Ok,you know we gotta do it.

*places lemon wedge in front of babies*

[modern-inheritance]

Modern Inheritance: Cracked Armor (Short) (Extended War Timeline)

(A/N: This devolved into Saphira and Glen quietly squeeing to each other while Eragon and Arya have a camaraderie moment completely oblivious to the possible deeper meaning of Eragon being so understanding of Arya's connection to Fäolin and Arya being so touched by it. It started out as a touching piece where Arya feels vulnerable about Fäolin and Eragon is, as said before, very understanding of it, but I had to run an errand in the middle and we ended up with this badly toned, no one is consistent with previous characterization slop. So take it with a grain of salt.

Also, if you ask Arya if she's superstitious, she'll say no. However, she finds many things the Varden soldiers do to honor their fallen friends a good way to respect the memory of the dead, so she follows some of their traditions. She also wears Fäolin's dogtags on her belt, muffled by magic ofc so they don't jangle around.)

CRACKED ARMOR

Glen looked over when Arya let out a soft curse. “Ah, damn it all.” The familiar sound of an armor release clip clicked into the still dust laden air as the younger elf undid the fastenings at her right forearm. “Fucking Wardbreakers. I can’t fix this out here.” 

The dismay in her tone was enough that Glen leaned over his battlemate’s shoulder to take a look at the damage. The bracer was dented in significantly, enough that a dark bruise was already blossoming up on Arya’s forearm as she lifted the sleeve of her combat suit to check for any bleeding. Cracks shot out from the divot in the mix of spidersilk and aramid weave, all the way down to the interior layers. The thin sheaf of spongy aerated gel peeked through in places, a shimmering, foamy white among blued steel and matte black.

Mentally mapping out the angle of impact, Glenwing racked his brain. He was sure at some point he had–

“Ah!” The medic looked down. A blob of malformed metal was embedded in the abdominal region of his own armor plates. “Was wondering where that ricochet came from.” 

“Are you alright?” That she had asked him was telling, at least in their odd little language. The round must have stung on impact, enough that she was worried it had not slowed enough to prevent him from being harmed. He would have to look at her arm, but for now he was pleased she was moving it without any wincing or restricted range of motion. 

Having made his own assessment, Glen waved away Arya’s increasingly troubled frown. “Barely felt it. Looks like your armor’s the most damaged of all of us.”

Frown eased, the disappointed air returned to Arya’s face. “Yeah. Better the armor than any of us, but…” She trailed off, fingers tracing the damage. 

“You two okay?” Eragon was tugging off his helmet as he approached. He had caught the concern in the voices of his companions and, leaving Saphira in Blödhgarm’s capable hands to finish up the final nicks and scrapes, went to investigate. “Sounds a bit depressed over here.”

Arya held up the damaged bracer. “We took a casualty.” Eragon took the armor piece and let out a low whistle. “Don’t know who the hell fired it, but it was definitely a Wardbreaker.” Her expression soured further, eyes oddly soft despite the obvious annoyance. “I can’t repair it out here. Rhunön’s the only one who can fix something this broken, and who knows when we’ll go back.” 

Eragon passed the bracer back. “You have spares, don’t you?”

The elf shrugged. “For this one in particular, yeah. I guess it’s lucky in that regard.” 

“Oh.” Glen’s voice was muffled as he slid his chestpiece over his head. Once free he gave his currently wild silver mane a good shake to clear his eyes and tilted his head in condolences. “It’s that one.” 

At Eragon’s raised eyebrow, Arya rubbed the back of her neck. “It’s…a good luck charm. It’s not my original bracer.” Glen rolled his eyes and not-too-subtly kicked the side of his battlemate’s foot. “Fine! Fine. It’s Fäolin’s.” An unexpected blush met Eragon’s gaze when he flicked his eyes from the damaged armor back to Arya’s face. “Some…old tradition a buddy of mine taught me. Even if our dead stay dead, they can protect us in a way. I might have taken that literally.” 

To the elf’s surprise, Eragon was smiling at her when she finally looked up. A genuine, gentle smile that lit his face. Shit, why did he suddenly look so much like Fäolin in that moment? Not really, not his appearance, but the feeling he was giving off, that warmth? 

“That’s a wonderful idea.” The Rider touched Arya’s shoulder. “I know I’m not much on the whole repair side of things, but if Rhunön made it, then perhaps her spells from forging Bris–my sword. From forging it could help?” 

Glen didn’t move. This was a moment. Don’t breathe, don’t move, let them have it. He could feel Saphira’s mind hovering at the edge of his, questioning, and he let her in to explain and show what exactly was going on. The pleased amusement that radiated into his thoughts echoed his own, though far less tense in anticipation. 

…These two dorks were fast becoming a fascination for the dragon and medic alike.

“Thank you.” Arya’s hand covered Eragon’s at her shoulder, genuine appreciation thickening her words with emotion. “That…that you offered means a lot. But Rhunön’s armor spells are different from her weapon spells.” 

Ah! Glen could see another hint of blush on both of them now. He shared his internal excitement with Saphira. The equivalent of a draconic high five buffeted his mental form in equal elation.  

“I see. Well, if you do want some help with it, just let me or Saphira know.” Eragon shifted his grip and gave Arya’s hand a quick squeeze before pulling back. “I think Rhunön did pack me some aramid repair tape when she was going through Saphira’s saddlebags. Would that help?”

“Immensely. Thank you!” The gentle squeeze was returned and just like that, the two separated. 

Glen hastily busied himself with unlatching the hidden clasps at his left bicep, a grunt of dismissal all Eragon got for a goodbye. The difficulty wasn’t entirely false, the armor never having been altered to fit over his prosthetic properly, and it provided the perfect cover to hide his smile.

A bit too tight still. Damn it. Okay, now he actually couldn’t–

“Oh, come here.” Arya reached up and seized a handful of his combat suit, giving the stretchy material a firm yank. Glen hit his knees with a whuff of surprise, eye to eye with his friend and giving her a sheepish grin. “If I get you out of this without taking your arm off, then will you tell me what the hell that weird look you were giving me and Eragon was?”

“What look?” He may have sounded the picture of innocence, but the open handed cuff to the side of his head made clear that his face was betraying him yet again. “It was nothing! I just hadn’t realized that you and Eragon had talked so much about Fäolin.” 

Arya rolled her eyes and, with practiced ease, teased the stubborn clip open with a satisfying clatter. “Uh huh. You looked like you had eaten some fermented mango again.” 

“I did not!” A teasing smile had started at the edge of Arya’s lips, her fingers finding the next clasp in the system out of pure habit. At the positive sign Glen lowered his voice. “Okay. I really didn’t know how you two were getting along. Neither of you mention it, but the Bloodoath is almost two years past now. You both seem…better. Even better than before.” 

A softness flitted across his battlemate’s eyes as she lifted away the medic’s bracer. “He’s really grown up. Saphira too. They’ve both matured a lot.”

“Yeah.” 

The silence between them grew until Arya had finally shimmied the armored glove off Glen’s prosthetic. She regarded the final piece with a thoughtful look before turning back to her bestest of friends and, as gently as gently got with Arya, whapped him on the side of the head with it. 

“Stop being so weird about me and Eragon, weirdo! We’re friends! Stop making it weird!”

[battlemaster-ofceremonies]

im thinking ab karna and what it means to be chronically ill and blame urself again.