#feralego

[timetell]

@feralego

luz //: what do you call a fish with no eyes?

[glacierfront]

feralego knows what it's about..

[tahitiwoke]

                             HERE IN THE SPIRIT OF COOPERATION.

[exspiritment]

@feralego // daniel said: a kiss to anger a third party 

@wristful // stevie & @withbeasts // andrew 

It’s one of Spirit’s favorite restaurants in the city. It isn’t far from Andrew’s apartment — and proximity to there is what brought her here, anyways. She wonders if Daniel realizes this, wonders how much he cares. 

Spirit and Daniel are leaving after their meal when Andrew and Stevie arrive. (Stevie looks like shit. Perhaps Andrew is trying to comfort him, to revive him, like he had done countless times with her.)

Daniel recognizes Andrew and Stevie even though he shouldn’t, even though he only can because of the night he followed Andrew after the play and all the times he’s spoken to the doorman about Spirit’s visitors. He wraps his arm ‘round his girlfriend’s shoulder, turns her head towards him — always towards him, always away from any other distractions or interferences or people who she doesn’t belong to, not like she belongs to him. He kisses her quickly, chastely, on their way out the door. But it’s enough. 

Spirit feels an invisible wall between herself and Andrew, feels too stunned to say anything after he left with an I’m sorry. She’s frozen and rigid when Daniel kisses her. She’s not thinking straight when she whips her head back towards the boys, walking out as they walk in. 

She doesn’t expect to see Stevie staring at her — cold, almost angry. No, definitely angry. His jaw is set in a way that Spirit thinks must be uncomfortable. Her lips part, and she wants to say something, but Daniel has her steered out the door. 

He’ll text her later, Stevie will. He’ll say something that Andrew won’t — because Andrew won’t, because he’s Andrew’s hero, because he’s always got to protect him. 

Spirit will throw her phone against the floor and scream into her pillow.

[fakedsciences-a]

If they had a kid meme for Tao/Juniper 👀

Name: xiù grace song

Gender: girl

General appearance: juniper's bone structure, radiant smile

Personality: angsty for many years, because she just has those genes. passive aggressive. compassionate, loyal, serious.

Special talents: both of her parents possess some degree of gracefulness — maybe she's a dancer? idfk

Who they like better: juniper, sorry.

Who they take after more: tao.

Personal headcanon: can we get into this? lmfao? i want them to have a really angsty tortured artist kid neither of them really ~~understand now

Face Claim: kelsey chow

[pathfaring]

The stranger emerges from the darkness of the trees, well wrapped in a cloak. The being's voice takes a little concentration to understand---- maybe accent, or perhaps that the dialect is different from that further down the mountain, and his spell needs reinforcing.

It's hard to make out the other's features in the flicker of torchlight, nothing more than light skin and dark hair.

"Of course not," Ruskin answers easily, even if something deep inside him responds to the other's wariness, sitting up on alert. A hindbrain response, one that has his fingers twitching just slightly on his staff. He tries not to let old paranoia make him jump at shadows. It rarely serves him well, these days.

Instead, he smiles. "Would you like to share a meal, friend? I don't have much, but you are welcome." He knows magicks to make the food he has more filling, more nutritious than it would otherwise be----- although never quite as satisfying as a full hearty meal, it's something of a necessity in war and winter.

Ruskin's lived in many worlds where generous hospitality to strangers is the unspoken law of the land. He's been in enough others where wealth is hoarded and famine is rife. Whether the other needs it or not, he'll offer to share his meal.

And maybe they can share a few stories, too. He wonders if they have heard tale of a dragon too, or if they're just passing through. Perhaps a local, out late on their way home.

"If you're in a rush, don't let me keep you," he adds, moving to seat himself on a convenient rock at the foot of his hammock, "but I like to keep company when paths cross."

He’s been hunting for an hour or so now, setting and checking traps for smaller game as he follows a set of deer tracks with his sharp, golden-eyed gaze. With some luck, he’d snared a decently sized hare, but just after he’s given his thanks to the creature, he hears something that startles him. And his luck runs out.

In his distracted state, the knife knicks his hand before it ever gets to his dinner, and when he reflexively recoils, he loses his grip. Watching the hare bound away with his luck, its fur stained with his blood, Efren crouches low to the ground and wraps a few clean strips of cloth around his new wound.

His stomach growls in protest, urging him to press on and ignore the snapping of twigs and the distinctly human sounding footfalls. But he knows better than to do so.

Efren prefers to hunt in the handful of hours that flank pre- and post- twilight. He finds that–usually–he’s less likely to stumble upon humans when he hunts during these hours, as their lack of appropriate night vision usually keeps them away. But every so often, well.

His luck really had run out, hadn’t it?

A fire is lit, giving away the stranger’s exact position in the near distance, and when he calls out into the trees, Efren knows he’s been heard as well. Staring into the torchlight, he has a decision to make.

Pulling his reptilian wings in close against his back and securing his bulky cloak in a way that covers them completely

“Yes. I did not mean to frighten you.” He’s not spoken conversationally in years, and despite his desire to sound casual, or even friendly, his voice sounds gruff and garbled from the disuse. Efren does not move any close to the light, or the man’s impromptu campsite. “I am just passing through.”

He does not want to give away the fact that he lives nearby, in a small wooden structure he’d built into a half hidden, rocky outcropping. Better to look transient; to have no ties to this land than to raise questions about it.

“I will give you no trouble, stranger, if you do the same.”

[wristful]

@feralego​ / for josh

    “-- don’t look at me like that, it’s not a big deal.” 

[withbeastsarc]

DUSTY TOYBOX;  accepting.  @feralego​ asked:  “  you’re jealous,  aren’t you?  “  

          josephine has never been shy about seeking out physical affection with him.  she does it easily,  her hands constantly reaching,  her body next to his wherever he goes.  watching her and luz from afar,  it is much the same;  she lingers close to her,  hand on her shoulder,  hand on her back,  fixing her hair and her shirt.  of course luz notices him watching,  even when he turns away,  so that when josephine leaves for just a moment she takes it to tease him. 

           “  of you?  “  there is a rise that she always manages to get out of him,  no matter what she says.  “  you’re old friends.  of course not.  “  

[dangerstxrlet]

+ @feralego​ asked:  ‘ did you think that i had left you for good? ’ harry

+ “ I don’t know , you didn’t leave a girl with much to go on. “ Mary Jane answered as she eagerly wrapped her arms around Harry in a hug. “ I’m so happy you’re back though. “ 

[timetell]

@feralego / luz

" -- you're gonna fall. "

[glacierfront]

[a text from marcus]: how do u fix a broken pumpkin?

[text] you

[text] call it smashing and give it a hit album

[text] the lots of money cures its depression (because it can suddenly afford therapy which it's been craving for years)

[chaotiicgoods]

@feralego​ said: ❔ MULTIMUSE ASK MEME | ACCEPTING

I’ve mostly followed you because of your Spider-Man muses (mine are at my sideblog @marvclsiums​), so I’d love to interact with them as mine, but I’m also open to any crossover with this blog  too because you have really  great muses 🥰

[pathfaring]

"A beach sounds lovely," Ruskin says fuzzily, blinking at the other. He rubs at his forehead, at his temples, but the pressure does little to soothe the ache and the touch of magic does nothing to clear his mind. He curses, silently, face screwing up.

"I am Ruskin," he adds, because that's the only one of their questions that he knows the answer to. His memory of places he's been is not perfect, but California doesn't ring a bell. No, that's right. He hasn't been here before. He's lost. He... he needs to be lost. Did he lose them?

He looks around himself, suddenly, and then back to his rescuer. "Sorry, what was your name?"

Safe? He believes himself to be safe here, but he doesn't know where here is.

Pippa chews at her lip. This community could be safer than wherever he'd come from, certainly, but she'd not sure she'd consider anywhere where she is to be wholly safe. Not when she's on the clock for her employer, at least.

"Hermosa Beach," Pippa answers after a slight pause, all the more concerned about this stranger. From his legs giving out from under him to this disorientation, he doesn't seem to be well. "California," she adds for good measure.

"Do-- Do you know what year it is? What's your name? Do you need me to call someone for you?"

[heartborrow]

happy bday!

thank u so much!! please enjoy your complimentary party hat!!

[fakedsciences-a]

@feralego // daniel

Juniper does not resent or regret frequently — but she is furious with Spirit for giving her phone number to Daniel Romano. 

There is an awkward text message exchange — tense and formal. Juniper plays nice with the man who shook Harris to the core, the man who Spirit wants to spend the rest of her life with. But she does not like the way he talks to her, talks down to her. She’s sensitive to such things, and she notices them immediately in Daniel’s communication style. 

He wants to meet, and he wants to meet at the Harris household. He sent you to the hospital once, and I don’t want to watch him do it again she almost tells him, but she doesn't want to seem casually cruel or like she holds this over his head. Juniper is nice. She is gentle. She will let Daniel come over on this weekend, when Harris spends most of his time in the city, when she doesn't work until later in the day.

So she's anticipating his knock on the door — but it still makes her flinch, makes her want to crawl out of her skin.

She opens the door slow enough for it to creak and sees Daniel. Then — she sees the boy. Eyebrows furrow, mouth parts slightly — her confusion is impossible to hide.

"What is this? What are you doing?" She does not offer to let him inside.

[pathfaring]

Starter for Efren @feralego

They say there's a dragon in the mountain.

They had dragons in Earthsea, far out in the west, noble and ancient and dangerous. but Ruskin had never met a dragon there and he doesn't know what dragons of this world are. The locals seem scared enough to ask a stranger for help, but neither are their crops burning and their town ravaged.

But in spite of himself, in spite of what he tells the villagers, he is curious. He's allowed to be curious, he tells himself, even if still the feeling sometimes makes him nauseous with memories.

The path up the mountain is rocky, steep. Unforgiving, perhaps, if he couldn't soothe the ache in his feet and lighten his pack with a touch of his hand. Anyhow, he's used to walking, and it's a bright, crisp day, rays of sunlight dropping through cloud and leaving a shimmer in the air.

Still, he should probably, he thinks, as he stands on a grassy ridge, unable to see an obvious path, have checked exactly WHERE they thought the dragon was. He's passed a small tarn, the odd nook that might be a prime spot, but found nothing alive and larger than a rabbit.

It's dark before he gives up the search for the night. he slings a hammock between a tree and a rocky outcrop, fastening it with deft fingers. He has nothing to cook so he doesn't bother to light a fire--- he can keep himself warm well enough. But he does light a torch, a soft orange flame that will keep burning the small kindling of dried leaves all night.

Footsteps in the twilight. Ruskin looks over his shoulder, and thinks he can see a half silhouetted figure hidden in the foliage. "Is someone there?" he calls, soft, uncertain he's not just seeing a trick of the light.

It doesn't look like a dragon.