#fishermcn

[yellowfingcr]

@fishermcn liked for Something!

"Here's your gift, Sam. You have been drawn by my very own hand. And if you're asking, what are those squiggles? They mean an explosion happening behind you. You aren't looking at it. You are cooler than that."

"You also caused it."

[schattenmagier]

"I want to see you wear" a pirate outfit?

[ I'm having fun with these! :D // Accepting! ]

// A pirate but not a pirate captain surely! She is not the leader type. And a relatively simple outfit ofc! An outfit like this is perfect to move quickly on a ship as well.

[izar-tarazed]

@fishermcn suggested:

"Milk o'them Trina lilies. Puts ya out, though. Cost ya too."

​..."Honestly, at this point I don't mind either of that if it just works. How much of that stuff will a Hero's Rune get me?"

[zcrayas]

@fishermcn said: "Fuckin' hurts when they bite ya."

"Oh, but they only bite when they feel threatened! Or scared - you would too, r-right?"

[through-fire-and-flame]

"Godsdamned ingrates..." Mornings after the hunt in Yharnam rarely arrive with fanfare or celebration, the overcast sky scarcely giving ground to the sun as the doors being creaking open. Even when the streets are scrubbed clean of befouled blood and the corpses piled onto wheelbarrows and carriages for their fiery fates, there's little words to be said by the citizens to their supposed saviors... little good, that is. Soot takes a nasty sort of pleasure in returning an older man's sneer with the menacing rattle-clank of his riflespear shifting, flinging a rude gesture at the swiftly retreating figure before pulling out his pipe. "Mother Kosm take'm. Got some nerve puffin' about like that..." Once, twice, thrice flicks his match against the tinderbox before the pipe is set alight, and Soot takes a long drag before puffing out a perfect ring of smoke. "Don't know how ya do it." His grey eyes slide over to Laurentius, and without so much as a warning tosses him a wrapped bundle of fresh biscuits. "Not sure why ya do it, neither. Why bother?"

"Wot, the hunt?" comes the coughing reply, as a soot-stained hand emerges from his coat to catch the bundle. Careful inspection of the shadow underneath his hood would reveal, in fact, a mouth somewhere in there, though it would have to be a careful inspection indeed, given all the ash.

"'s wot we do, mate," Laurentius says, eyeing a biscuit plucked from the bundle. It's an odd sensation, watching gray daylight bleed back into the skies overhead - it's the way the adrenaline recedes from his blood, the way his shoulders sag and all the eager violence from the night before catches up with him.

"'s all I know how to do, at any rate," he mutters, a moment later. "There's beasts where there shouldn't be beasts, and if it ain't us wot gets 'em, it'll be them wot gets us."

[miserycorde]

@fishermcn "Some o'them bastards like it. Live to fight'n die, fight'n die… bloody madmen."

"I don't doubt that for a second... one would hope that people like this are few and far between?"

[sxnguinesxnctum]

f for old yharnam im sorry you guys had to burn next time dont get the furry plague

thoughts and prayers 🙏😔💔

[dragonskxn]

A sharp whistle is her only warning before a small pouch is tossed Anna's way, the depraved perfumer offering her a slight shrug. "Miranda bloom seeds. Case ya wanted t'grow some yerself."

Give my muse an item and see how they react!

"Ah-" She reached her hands out to catch the pouch, making sure her sharp nails did not poke holes in the fabric.

"Thank you; that's very kind of you. I think they'll also become good guards for my cottage."

[svngraced]

@fishermcn asked: "That's a lot of blood." No real surprise there. With the house of recusants tucked away on these very slopes and the proof of their blasphemy plain as day in the corpses they've strung up, blood flows more freely than water up here. Bit more surprising to see a tarnished not sworn to Rykard scaling the rugged peak of Gelmir, though. From a rocky outcropping a few feet above her, Soot doesn't seem terribly fazed at her being covered in blood up to her elbows. "Woulda been quicker t'just push him over the edge."

it had taken a long time for the Sun-Graced explorer to climb the mountain, most of that may have been spent sneaking around a Magma wyrm and a Fallingstar beast, that was a terrifying experience.

she almost slips when she hears a voice, that would have been quite a tumble. her gaze travels up a few feet to the one who had announced themselves so abruptly. " it would have been, but he would not leave me be. " she does, however, push the body off the cliff with her foot once her crystal dagger is pulled free from the torso.

" i wish 'i do not wish to fight.' was understood by all. "

[dragonskxn]

"You've been— that doesn't...seem...very healthy..." She trails off, her voice dropping to a soft murmur. It wasn't her place to judge, anyhow; and the stranger seemed well-enough acquainted with the toxic blooms he was harvesting.

"I couldn't leave someone behind when dealing with something so deadly. Help is hard to come across nowadays. Danger, nearly around every corner." The woman shakes her head, eyeing the flower hoisted over the perfumer's shoulder curiously. It looks somewhat adorable, in a way, upon finding out that it's merely sleeping from the dosage given to it.

"My name is Annalise. I'm a farmer, and a bit of a wanderer." Her hand wanders yet again to one side of her cloak, rubbing the leathery skin and feathers between her thumb and forefinger in a self-soothing fashion. "The cloak was a gift. I'm not the sort to go around hunting dragons," she laughs gently.

"And you are?"

She stumbles backwards after the stranger takes her sickle, hesitant to attempt to fight the floral creature alongside him. Fond of plant life that she was, one as poisonous as this particular breed she tends to avoid. Not skilled in blades or magic, Annalise did not know any way to help out other than offer her harvesting tool.

The woman watches fearfully as the perfumer wrestles with the plant, before eventually felling it with the combination of her sickle and the concoction he had poured onto it. As the toxic plant perished, releasing its pollen like a death rattle, she covers her mouth and nose with the cloak around her shoulders, breathing in the scent of dragon.

"You're not hurt, are you? I-I apologize for not doing more to help...not that I could do much. I have some healing remedies, if needed," she stammers, gently taking the offered sickle and vial and tucking it away into the basket at her side. "I know much about various plants...except how to fight them."

[rotten-pest]

(Some itty bitty sketches for a few of yall... i would like to do more but ive been awake since 3am 😅)

Izar for @izar-tarazed a heysel for @yellowfingcr and my attempt at Samuel albeit he's hidden @fishermcn

[yellowfingcr]

scorpion to scorpion, viper to viper [ @fishermcn ]

[schattenmagier]

[ Locked in a Room // Accpeting! ]

@fishermcn asked:

[PACING]: Back and forth, back and forth, the ragged crow of a man paces back and forth. Between his restless hands sit the innards and casing of a soon-to-be bomb, clanking and clonking against one another as Soot fiddles with the thing distractedly. Every so often his pacing takes him back over to the table they've used to plan this little co-operative venture, flinty eyes glancing over the marks they've made for patrols and the best places to slip past them... before trotting off to continue wearing a hole in the floor. It's about another minute before Soot finally gives up the ghost with a raspy sigh and a glance spared towards Lilli. "Sure we can't blow'm to bits? Assassinatin' him, burnin' the place down, same difference ain't it?"

The thief watches Samuel like a hawk as he so restless paced around the room. Again and again. It was so different from her more calm behavior. And it somehow annoyed her in a way. Why did she needed to work with him anway? Could they have not hired only her to kill that target? Apparently not. Or their client simply didn't trusted that one person was capable enough for this job. Who knows. But one thing was clear, she did had to deal with having a 'partner' for this job. Now the woman just hoped he was as good as she was told.

Lilli then let's out a low sigh when the man spoke again. Either he wanted to get over this job as soon as possible, or he simply wanted to blow something up. And while that sure would be an easy way to kill their target AND everyone else who was around, it wasn't exactly the most subtile way. And not what their client wanted...

" I am very sure we can't do that... Our client said we should just kill one guy... "

A moment passes, and she looks at the map with the markings again. Perhaps using his experience with bombs could still be useful. So, why not including it? It might be not her style, but perhaps it will satisfy him.

" While I prefer my way for an assassination, you can blow something up as a distraction I suppose... Would that be satisfying for you? "

Lilli proposed to Sam, while glancing at the man with her usual blank expression... Or perhaps there was a hint of annoyance to find in the way she looked at him.

" If you blow the whole place up, we surely would attract to much unneeded attention... "

[necrophcge]

NAME:

Lee

PRONOUNS:

he/him

MOST ACTIVE MUSE(S)?

// Meddles here is technically my most active, but I'm doing stuff behind the scenes for my lads Brom ( @of-forossa ), and Samuel Whist ( @fishermcn ) so I'll add them here too lmao.

RP PET PEEVES?

// Ah hell man, probably a lack of progression when it comes to replies? When I'm writing a thread with someone, I do what I can to make sure they have enough from my own to continue the story we're telling together. So getting a reply in return that doesn't move things forward puts me in kind of a bind y'know? Matching or similar length comes with that as well, though I don't expect folks to match me word for word so much as giving as good as they've gotten!

Communication is also key! I know that it can be uncomfortable or a bit daunting to try to chat with folks you haven't gotten to know all that well, but with threads being something we create together we really should be on the same page. Even just a little update or the like is preferable to total radio silence rofl.

EXPERIENCE / HOW MANY YEARS?

// Shoot, it's probably been about twelve, maybe thirteen years now? Been on here the whole time and have bounced around to a few different fandoms before more or less settling down into the soulsborne community.

FLUFF, ANGST, OR SMUT?

// I'm definitely an angst kinda guy, though usually in the sense that things are going down or conflict is brewing rather than interpersonal drama. I live for fight-writing and the tension that comes with lives being on the line. Fluff is usually reserved for one and done replies rather than threads because I feel it's more impactful thst way, while smut is... well. I'm getting better at it, but it's definitely my weakest writing of the bunch. That, and I admittedly can get a bit nervous posting it out here in the wild for everyone to see (////-\\\\)

PLOTS OR MEMES?

// Both! Plots and plotting are my preferred go-to for our muses to get to know each other and establish what their relationship will be like going ahead, while with memes I'll usually go ham on a single reply with the intent of further fleshing out what we've pieced together for our muses.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES?

// If you've known me on my other blogs you already know I tend to get long winded XD. Short replies never feel like I've said enough honestly, and by taking the time to get in depth with them I reckon it opens the door wider for potential interactions (memes) or it gives the other person more room to reply with (threads). Least amount I'll do is around two to three paragraphs.

TIME TO WRITE?

// I'd love to tell you folks that I'm a responsible, orderly guy who keeps a good sleep schedule and has a set time for writing. Unfortunately I'm little more than an animal who's as likely to bump out an ask or reply at 4:00 in the morning as I am to post something mid-afternoon. Ideally though... I prefer the evenings for it. More privacy, more time to gather my thoughts and less demands for me personally to have to address.

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S)?

// I'm a firm believer in the notion that muns typically have something either in common with or identify strongly with their muses in some form or another, and I'm no exception. Meddles might be a conqueror, cruel and malicious, but struggling against a seemingly impossible task and not wanting to be alone in this world... yeah. Yeah, I can relate to that. It helps me put myself in their shoes and understand them better if there's something about them I identify with.

tagged by: @ferinehuntress (much obliged panda :D)

tagging: @yellowfingcr, @hexenjagd, @bcwblade, @rotten-pest, @izar-tarazed, and you!

[zcrayas]

@fishermcn said:

"Ain't nothin' blasphemous in a godless world. Order's gone, Marika's gone... and we're better off without'm."

" I am pleased of knowing someone thinking alike. Still, even in her absence... there are conquests in her name, worships in her name, people are killed in her name. Her legacy lives on, among her followers. "

[through-fire-and-flame]

Hunt's moved on from this street, the baying of men and beasts alike growing ever more distant even if the ringing in their ears hasn't yet died down. Everything here might be dead or getting ever closer to it, but for those fortunate few who aren't trotting around Yharnam during the midnight hour just to hunt... well, the picking's still more than plentiful. Soot's pockets and puches are near spilling with gleaming silver, bullets and medallions and other gaudy trinkets pried from the still freshly fallen hunters, and he's in the middle of reaching for another before he realizes someone else has stuck around. "Don't gimme that look. Not like they got any use for'm now."

The powder kegger stares for a long moment, then coughs, producing a faint cloud of ash in front of his face.

"'s not exactly respectful, izzit," he rasps, from somewhere in the depths of a loose hood. "Thievin' from the dead and all. 'sides, you're just cen..."

There's a pause as he searches for the word, one hand idly clicking the igniter on what appears to be a long-nozzled gas can on his right hip.

"...centralizin' all the loot. Someone could come along and thieve it from you, couldn't they?" he finishes, leaning back so that the gleam of a hazel eye becomes apparent beneath the cowl's shadow. "Not that I would, of course, I've no use for it either."

A grin - bright and brittle white against the ashen shadow of his face.

"Does that make me dead too, y'figure?"