#found a lot of holes

[therealmnemo]

misandry isn't real. transandrophobia isn't real. you're not oppressed for being men. please learn about anti-transmasculinity and how it partners with transmisogyny and how trans women would actually consider community with you if you realized we are all in this together and not spouting off mra shit.

[lucky-fydraws]

ArtFight attack on @frogcroaks :D

I told you I wanted to draw them on Twitter, and here they are indeed!

These designs were immediate favorites when you posted them. When  you mentioned Nekomata liked soft drinks, my immediate thoughts went to the numerous vending machines in the streets of many Japanese cities and towns... So this little scene, with Bakeneko holding such a drink and Nekomata wanting a sip, quickly manifested itself in my mind.

It was the occasion to practice perspective and urban backgrounds. I also tested out my new grey fineliners, but unfortunately, the scanner doesn't really like them much (the black ones are processed just fine), so I had to overlay the sketch I had scanned earlier.

I messed up the character perspective, though. I know Nekomata looks smaller here, even though they're taller than Bakeneko :(

I hope you'll like this!

[nyaa]

Moe personification of Siberian anticyclone Weather Girls 気象・天気, 2010

[serpentface]

This image had a far superior, silly first draft that I kind of wish I went with instead

[churchandstateofbeing]

was walking along a beach in LA and found a stone that deadass looks like an ace attorney magatama (left is with some stone clay to replace the piece that broke off, right is how i found it)

[kirby-the-gorb]

[onyxsboxes]

If your character had to get a tattoo what would it be? And What does your character smell like? For Buck and Bucky ❤️

Hi dear, thank you for your ask 🥰🤗,

If your character had to get a tattoo what would it be? (I've been thinking about it all day)

For Buck, I don't think he'd get a tattoo. As someone who always wants everything to be perfect, I think he'd have trouble finding a design that suited him, because he'd be afraid of what might happen later, if it wasn't what he wanted, and if he didn't like it anymore…

But if he had to, he'd opt for a subtle design, both small and not very explicit in its meaning. I was thinking of maybe a constellation tattoo, not the kind with the lines but just the stars in their usual position, like little dots on his skin. Small enough not to be seen at first glance and dismissed as spots or beauty marks for people who don't know.

Maybe monoceros, the unicorn constellation (because it's Bucky's favorite extinct animal) on his inner wrist to keep a little bit of john on his skin. That way, when he's anxious or missing Bucky, he can swipe his fingers over the tattoo to ground himself in reality.

Bucky is more inclined to get tattoos, not necessarily many but a couple. He loves the process of getting a tattoo, finding a design, the pain, the excitement …

And he's quickly learned that it helps him on his bad days. Just looking at his tattooed arm is enough to help him remember that he's not back in the camp, that he's free and alive, far from Europe, safe.

For the design, perhaps a quote 'fly like an angel' to remember Curt, 'this new you will be worse knowing', two little B17s flying side by side and a small moon (because Buck is the moon to his sun) on the inside of his wrist.

Their matching tattoos on their inner wrist, the monoceros and the moon, are their own secret wedding vows to each other 🥹

What does your character smell like?

Apart from the usual fuel smell that surrounds them, they both have very different fragrances.

Bucky's scent is warm, strong and comfortable, like a nice evening with friends, enhanced by a spicier note and a hint of tobacco.

Buck's scent is fresher, cooler, like the large green expanses, with additional notes of citrus and mint (and a hint of coffee).

From this character ask game

[neversetyoufree]

Was reminded tonight that vnc volume 10 also had a special edition that came with an artbook, but I was way too broke to consider buying it at the time.

Bad realization to my make vis a vis international shipping charges.

[simgerale]

me after attempting to get back into sims and realizing i had a lot more to do than play the game

[tallytals]

dazai would be so miserable with braces it is actually hilarious. could you imagine the process of getting them tightened once every couple weeks. or if he had to wear rubber bands. do you guys hear me he’d look like this at the end of every appointment

[safyresky]

Grand Tour

Part I

"Pygmys."

"Pygmys?"

"Pygmys. They're fascinating little creatures!" The Prince tapped the glass of the jar he held in his hand. A fluffy little spike ball jumped a bit, spindly legs going wide as it ran all over the jar. "They travel in a big cloud and wreak havoc. They don't mean to, of course. They're just surviving. As we all are. But they do have a tendency to clump and stick to things and they do not come off that easy. We don't have these at the castle! The name is most definitely localized. It'll be exciting to study these closely and—"

"WAIT. THEY WHAT?"

The Prince frowned, turning around and shouting back at the farmer's fields. "THEY STICK."

"OH. WELL THAT EXPLAINS A LOT." The other Prince came around the corner of the farmer's shed, hopping on one foot, covered in pygmys. "Great news, Pyros, Jeremiah. I think I got them all."

"And they're going to eat right through your armour, Blaise. Marvin's going to kill you, you know."

"Not if my twin brother helps me out before then!"

Pyros tried very hard to look stern. He really, really, did. But they'd been travelling cross country for almost a month now and he was feeling quite good being away from home and Blaise looked really very funny with that monstrous big grin of his and he was going to be able to study a creature he could never get his hands on all cooped up inside the castle, so the smile did not slip out so much as it did explode across his face. He laughed to himself, waiting for Blaise to hop right beside him before summoning his staff. Mumbling to himself, he drew a few shapes around his brother, tapped the jar-ed pygmy with the top of his staff, and, once the jewel glowed, tapped the tip of Blaise's armoured foot. The Pygmys flew right off him.

"There we go! Better?"

"Much," Blaise grinned, summoning his own staff. Quickly drawing a circle in the ground he struck his staff in the middle of it. The Pygmys suddenly stopped bouncing around and were pulled into the circle, light stretching up around the perimeter and successfully trapping the sticky little fuzzy creatures within.

"Hmm. Nice. Think that'll hold for the night? I should be able to figure out how to dispose of them by the morning."

"Yeah, it'll hold. And we could always just. Y'know. Relocate them. We don't need to destroy them."

"Blaise, they're pests."

"Maybe they're useful somewhere else! Away from the crops and groves and what have you—"

"AHH! Your HIGHNESSESS!!"

Pyros looked appalled. "Is he calling the both of us? Really?"

Blaise snickered. "Hey, Marvin!" he said, eye contact with Pyros unbroken.

"No no no no NO don't you HEY MARVIN me, Prince Blaise. LOOK at the STATE of the two of you!" The angry drow thrust his hands out at them, face a deeper than usual shade of purple as he caught his breath. "Your armour is COVERED in some sticky substance and WHERE are your surcoats? Tippet? Robes?" He whirled, glaring at Pyros now, arms on his hips. "And YOU, Prince Pyros. WHERE is your ARMOUR?"

Both boys protested, both insisting they did not need the bits they were missing.

"Look, Marv, I've got the armour and Pyros has the robes and surcoats and royal colours so I think we're fine. I mean, between the two of us you have a whole dressed prince!" He grinned, throwing his arm over the drow's shoulders and bringing him in close.

The drow gulped, ducking a bit to avoid the fiery mess that was Prince Blaise's hair. "Your parents will have my head if I don't keep you shipshape and safe and that INCLUDES properly armed AND clean!"

"Marvin, please," Pyros said, raising a hand to placate. "Between the two of us, we'll be fine. We're both nearly masters at the warlock craft—some of us more so than others—and we do have our innate summer sprite lineage at our disposal as well."

"Which some of us excel in, more so than others."

"More so than others—"

Blaise stuck out his tongue with a very immature mlem.

Pyros returned the favour in kind, with a MLEM of his own.

"BOYS! This is really very unbecoming of the both of you—"

Pyros rolled his eyes as Blaise waved carelessly in the air with a very passionate, "Pish, posh."

"What? Pish posh?" Pyros looked perplexed. "Really? Where on Earth—"

"Winter."

"Of course."

"What? It's a fun turn of phrase!"

"You know, you are smitten with that season—"

"BOYS."

"Marv."

"Marvin."

Marvin closed his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. He inhaled deeply. Exhaled. Pressed his fingers together one by one before opening his eyes. "Prince Blaise. Prince Pyros. I really must insist—"

"We're fine, Marvin! Really. Look, I'll clean the sticky off in a snap!" And he did just that. Blaise snapped his fingers, the sticky residue left from the Pygmies peeling off of his armour and disappearing into thin air, the armour itself looking freshly polished. "Boom."

"You still aren't wearing—"

"And I'm not going to! Just like Pyros isn't going to wear the armour!"

"It'll only impede my evening's work."

Marvin wrinkled his nose. He looked like he wanted to protest. "Fine. If you insist."

"And oh but we do!"

"Really and truly. I assure you, we will be just fine. You're dismissed, Marvin."

"Yeah, go enjoy the sights! We don't get to go out often, y'know."

Marvin's nose somehow wrinkled even more. "Very well."

Hands still clasped, he turned on his heel and headed back towards the royal entourage, immediately barking orders and dispersing them throughout the town.

"He's going to kill us."

"Oh yeah. One of these days, for sure. But that's a problem for later! For now, you've got fuzzballs to study, and I've got several other tenants to check in with. Unless you want to join—"

"Absolutely not, thanks. Jeremiah, if you wouldn't mind directing me to your local castor? Prisma, I believe is the name?"

"Sure, your highness. Big tower up the street. Very purple. Can't miss it."

"Much obliged. Blaise, I believe we'll have to stay overnight."

"I'll get Marv on it."

"Shout if he tries to kill you," Pyros said, heading down the path.

"He'll shout louder!"

Pyros laughed, turning at the gate and heading up the street.

Blaise watched him go, chuckling to himself. "Ah. I'd say poor Marv, but he makes it too easy. Anything else you need our assistance with, Jeremiah?"

"Well, there is one thing. It's not so much an assist more so as it is a concern. I'd take it to an audience day but uh, I don't often make it up your way."

Blaise smiled warmly. "Sure. What's up?"

"Well, ah. Your Majes-ah, Highness. Sorry, sorry. I mean no offence, I just—the titles—I—"

Blaise held up a hand. "Don't worry. Just Blaise is fine."

Jeremiah paled. "Are you certain?"

"The only people who care about titles are the King and Queen and Pyros and Marv and they are all not here so yes, I'm positive."

The magibean gulped. "Well, ah, Blaise." The corners of his mouth twitched; Blaise grinned. "I hope you don't take offence to this—"

"Why would I?"

"It's about her snowiness. I don't want to impose or, or suggest anything bad or untoward or—"

Blaise tensed. "Is she okay?"

"Ah, I imagine so, yes. I've not heard anything otherwise. It's just...the crops have been freezing."

"Pardon?"

"Every morning I've woken up and the crops have been lightly frosted. I would've attributed it to the East's natural tendency to frost over, on occasion, but that seemed illogical given the time of year...and then I saw her."

"Who?"

"The Season."

"Winter."

Jeremiah nodded. He wrung his hat in his hands, swallowed with an audible gulp. "Um. Every night. Around the same time. She appears just on the edge o'er there," he gestured vaguely to the farthest reaches of his fields. "She lingers for a bit. And then leaves. And every time I go out afterwards, everything is frosty. And it lasts through to the morning. It melts with the sun, but the frost isn't good for the crops and I can't afford any loss—"

Blaise held up a hand. The farmer stopped abruptly, his heart racing, breathing heavily.

"Have you talked to her?"

"Talked? To a SEASON?" Jeremiah blanched. "I'm just a mere farmer, I could never—"

"She's very friendly. Frosty exterior aside."

"Well, Prince Blaise, if it's not out of turn for me to say...you can interact with her. I cannot."

"Why not? I'm sure she'd stay and chat. She's one of Mother Nature's seasons, she won't ignore you if you have a concern—"

The farmer cleared his throat. "Castes, Your Majesty. Ah, Highness. Sorry."

"Blaise. Just Blaise."

"Right. Well. Being what you are—"

"A sprite?"

"A prince."

"Oh! Oh. Right."

"You travel the same circles as her, as it were. It's normal for you to just. Walk up to a season and talk to her. But not for farmers like me."

Blaise's shoulders dropped. His hair died down. "Oh."

"I'm sorry, Blaise, I didn't mean to—"

"Ah, don't worry about it!" He perked back up, the brief moment of sadness gone as fast as it came on. It was enough to give Jeremiah whiplash. "Every night, you said?"

Jeremiah nodded.

"Perfect. Tell you what. If you wouldn't mind running over to Marv and letting him know as fancily as possible that Pyros and I have decided to stay the night here, and to make preparations. Y'know. Station guards wherever, find us some nice lodgings—"

"Oh! Okay, sure! So something like," he cleared his throat, straightening his posture and holding his hat behind his back. "The Princes have decided to stay overnight. Prince Blaise has asked me to ask you to make whatever preparations you see fit to, and to procure lodgings for them for the night. Like that?"

"PERFECT! Thanks, Jerry." Blaise clapped his arm, grinning. "And while you do that, I'll gather up the rest of the Pygmys for Pyros, and tonight I'll stake out your fields! If Winter comes by, I'll talk to her and see if I can figure out the frost for you."

Jeremiah brightened. "Really? You'd do that?"

"Of course! Why wouldn't I?"

"It's just...you're so hands on! The King isn't. We usually have to wait a few days before the appropriate measures are taken for various issues. You and your brother tackle them right away! It's not—it's unexpected. And, um, to besmirch the character of a Season in front of a royal?"

"Besmirch?" Blaise laughed. "Nah, you're just concerned, is all. And I appreciate you telling me. I'll get it sorted, don't you worry. I'm sure it's nothing."

Jeremiah nodded. "I'm sure you're right."

---

Lodgings set for the night and Pyros hard at work with the local castor, Blaise set himself up at the farthest reaches of Jeremiah's fields, watching the sun fade and the night creep in. The sky was clear as can be, a crisp chill in the air if his visible breath was anything to go off of.

Stars shone brilliantly. Blaise lay between the wheat stalks, hands behind his head, watching the stars as the night grew later still. Hair out, he was surrounded by darkness, enjoying the rare moment of silence and beauty.

Sure, they had stars at the castle. But it was never completely dark. There were always lanterns lit and soldiers marching about, armoured heavily compared to Blaise. There was so much world beyond the castle, and he loved the quarterly outings the King and Queen had the pair of them undertaking, despite knowing full well the reasoning behind it.

After all, he and Pyros were approaching eighteen-hundred. They were well past the age of majority and neither ruler had deemed who would be next in line yet, and it was coming up fast. It was obvious to him that they were trying to keep the two of them out of the way of their decision making. Especially with how Pyros kept asking. And how he himself kept not asking. In fact, Blaise was avoiding the topic entirely. It was clear as the night sky to him that they'd been sent out to give the King and Queen a break, or to test the pair of them, or maybe even both.

He tried not to think about it too much; tried not to bring it up. Pyros got all weird about it, and he'd missed his brother lately. See, going into the advanced studies with the Queen had been...

Intense.

Yeah.

It was intense.

Pyros had doubled down his already double-downed practise and study routine and they didn't get to hang out as often anymore. Not until they'd been assigned to do these outings. And Pyros had been all weird at first, but as their time out grew, his weirdness seemed to disappear, and things felt almost normal which was a very nice change as things were feeling very not normal back at the castle as of late and Blaise Did Not Care For It.

Deep breaths, he told himself. We're not home right now. We're out and about. Just enjoy the night. And also maybe keep an ear out, like you told Jeremiah you would.

His breathing evened out (he hadn't even realized it'd started speeding up) and he cast his gaze back up at the sky, watching the stars twinkle as the planet turned, the cosmic dust coming into view high above him. He sighed, smiling up at the sky, when suddenly a pale, round face obstructed his view, white tendrils of hair framing her flushed cheeks, blue eyes lit up.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?"

"It just got even prettier, if you'll believe it."

She snorted, her head snapping back up—but not before Blaise caught the silly little grin. With one of his own, he sat up, staring up at the season before him.

"Ever the flatterer."

"You love it."

"I don't recall saying that."

Blaise smirked, bringing up a knee. He rested his elbow on it, holding his head in his hand. "You don't need to."

A delicate hand came up, blocking her mouth as she let out a little laugh.

Armour clanking, Blaise stood up, blinking briefly when he realized she was a lot farther down than he remembered.

"Why are you so small?"

She snorted. "I believe it's because you have gotten tall. Er. Still. I'm going to throw out my neck at the rate you're going, Blaise—er, your highness."

"No need for that! It's just us, Winter."

"Oh! Good! In that case!" She shifted, adopting her regal stance, folding her hands in front of her dress. "Blaise. What on Earth are you doing laying in the fields this far east and this late at night?!"

"Waiting for you, actually."

The Season flushed, her posture relaxing. "Oh! That's sweet. Unless I'm in trouble, of course." She paused for a moment, curiosity overtaking the flush. "You'd sneak out for me?"

"I mean, if you asked, probably! But I'm not sneaking around. It's, uh, the quarterly check in."

"Already?"

"Well, it has been three months since the last one."

"Good heavens. Time certainly flies, doesn't it?"

"It would seem so, but you know, I've never asked. Does he?"

"You know, I'm not quite sure! I've never thought to ask either. Perhaps Mother knows?"

"Maybe. You should ask her."

"I'll forward that to management. Right! Now then! You haven't answered my question. What are you doing laid out in the fields this late at night?"

"Waiting for you."

She blinked, dumbstruck. "You were serious?"

"Well, yeah!" Blaise chuckled. He ran a hand through his hair, sparks trailing behind him as it lit up. He took a moment to admire the way the firelight played on her face. There were angles at play, breaking through the childhood roundness. He wasn't the only one who'd grown, it seemed.

"Blaise? Earth to his highness? You there?"

"Yes! Right." He cleared his throat. "Jeremiah—the tenant who lives here? He had a bit of a concern he brought up earlier today when we rolled into town. Apparently his crops are frosting over every night, and though it melts during the day, he's concerned about the long term exposure effects. He thought it was you doing it. Says you've been stopping by every night?"

"Indeed I have! But not for the reason he thinks. Actually, this is great timing because I have a concern to raise with you."

"Oh?"

"It's about Jeremiah's crops. They're frosting over!"

Blaise snorted. "You don't say?"

She nodded, giggling quietly to herself. "Come along, your highness. I'll show you. Right this way!" And without waiting for him to reply, Winter grabbed his hand and led (dragged) him to the corner of the field Jeremiah had pointed out earlier that day. She pulled him down, the pair squatting in the stalks, staring at the wheat. She let go, keeping her hands above her shoulders and maintaining eye contact. "See how my hands are way up here?"

Blaise nodded.

"Right. Well. Look at the wheat."

Blaise did, and immediately found himself frowning as frost crept over the sheaths, tickling the very tops of the plants and settling in for the night. It stretched on, right through the entirety of the field. He glanced back over at Winter: hands still up; no obvious magical signature showing. He felt the magic in the air around them. Her magical signature was not pulling at the threads.

It wasn't her.

"So that shouldn't be doing that."

"What's worse is it won't listen to me."

"What?"

"Watch."

Winter stood up, the heads of the wheat tickling her elbows. Her hands took on a white glow as she pulled them back, and the frost stayed perfectly comfortable on the spikes of the wheat. She gestured towards it violently, the white glow gone, the most frustrated pout on her face. "See?"

"That's really weird. I thought all frost and snow and wintry stuff listened to you?"

"Ah, but even we seasons have our limits. Sometimes nature takes its course and we let it do so. Mother Nature says that perhaps this is one of those times; perhaps nature is trying to tell us something."

"So why doesn't she just tell you straight up?"

"I think she's using it as a lesson. Anyway, I've started my nightly rounds here every day for the past few weeks, trying to see if I can make the frost go away, but nothing I do seems to work! So I looked closely at the pattern, and though the frost is mirroring the shapes of the wheat, there's a slight little group of curls that look quite similar to the pattern that usually resides within the frost in the Snowy Lands to the North of here."

"But it would only be doing that if the crops were on Northern holdings."

"Precisely. I think the current land holder is committing a spot of encroachment. I haven't had a chance to look further into it, but given the facts..."

"It seems likely the land Jerry's using for this year's harvest is actually in the North and not the East."

"Exactly. And I don't think Jerry knows this! I think the Lord here is trying to keep it on the down low." She squinted for a moment. "Leo? Zeo? Neo! That's the one. Bit of a prick, if I recall correctly."

Blaise snorted. "Checks out. He's always complaining about his holdings when we host court." Blaise rubbed his chin. "If he's trying to gain more land, he'll want to do it quietly and carefully. The royal surveyors are the best at their jobs. It would take quite a bit to trick them."

"Precisely. And! We are fairly close to the border right now! The town beyond here is a hub where denizens from both the North and East meet up, do business, and so on. If you played your pieces right, it could be a fairly easy point to start growing your holdings illicitly. Especially since the North is so sparsely populated."

Blaise continued to rub his chin. "That's a hefty accusation."

"Indeed. But it has merit. If you look at the other half of the field, the one that's closer to his farmstead, the crops there are all fine. Not a single bit of frost on there."

"Hmm. Interesting." Blaise stopped rubbing his chin. "I suppose I should go take a look." He smiled softly at her and held out an arm. "Walk with me?"

Winter blinked up at him in surprise. "Oh! Ah, certainly."

She carefully grabbed his arm, her cool touch frosting the burnished metal of his armour. Careful to weave between the rows (least they accidentally crush the wheat), they made their way over to the other side of the fields, where sure enough, not a smidgen of frost graced the stalks.

"See?"

"Huh. That's...okay. I mean. It's not okay, obviously, but I didn't think "land stealing conspiracy" would be on the list this fast."

"But you expected it?"

"It wouldn't of surprised me. At any rate, I'll have to work on this after the check in." He rubbed his chin again. "And I'll have to figure something out for the short term."

"Perhaps, in the interim, there's something I can do to help? I'm sure one of my sisters can move the wheat consequence free while you get this sorted. This way Jeremiah doesn't have any loss? Lady knows what Neo would do if he knew we were on to him."

Blaise's hand stilled. "Oh? You think your sisters would be able to do that?"

"Oh, please. They have this very strange soft spot for me. They would quite literally do anything for me."

"Even Spring?"

"...sometimes. And if not, I can be, ah, very persuasive."

Blaise laughed. "I believe it. Are you feeling okay?"

"Quite all right. Why do you ask?"

"Your hair is melting."

She flushed, her free hand reaching up and touching her very thawed roots. "Oh! Well. That happens sometimes."

"Oh?"

"Yours is literally on fire. And I've been near you for a good moment now."

"I see," Blaise replied. (He did not, in fact, see).

"I'm sure you do. Now, you don't think it's too late to talk to Jeremiah, do you? I'd like to apologize to him and let him know one of us seasons will be on it post haste. He and his family are probably asleep, though, aren't they?"

"We'll go take a gander. He said he'd been seeing you these past few nights, so I wouldn't be surprised if he was still up."

"Very well." Winter tightened her hold on his arm. "Lead the way."

Seconds after they came into view of the small house, Jeremiah popped out the back door, clicking it shut quietly behind him, candle in his hand. "Your Highness! And Your Snowiness!" Frazzled, he bowed twice, his hair nearly catching fire.

"Oh, no need for formality, really. It's much too late in the night for that. And pardon my intrusion. I hope I didn't wake you?"

"No, of course not your, uh. Season-y-ness."

"Just Winter is fine, please. Don't fret. Sorry for the crop fright. I've touched base with Prince Blaise," she gestured towards him, as though her hand wasn't still looped around his arm. "And we think we've figured out the issue. It's all a little hush hush right now, and we'd both appreciate your discretion."

"Of course. Whatever you need."

"Now! In the interim! About your crops! Unfortunately I cannot control the frost that seems to have made itself cozy in your fields. But! My sisters can control the wheat! I'll talk to them and we'll be by in the next week or so to move the crops over to a portion of land that is not being assailed by frost."

"Oh, well, that sounds nice and all, but the unplanted fields are to remain fallow this year, y'know, to replenish the soil and the. And the like." He scratched the top of his head nervously.

"Oh, I'm familiar with the idea, yes. Of course, my sisters are more well versed in it and my mother is, of course, the expert. We can take care of replenishing the soil just this once while we work on the frosty problem back there."

"Really?"

"Of course! Our duty is to maintain balance and help the people, sir. You are one of those people."

"But I'm just a farmer—"

"Ah, pish posh! You are a denizen of Crystal Springs same as any of us, castes be damned."

Blaise guffawed. Jeremiah blanched.

"Does that work for you, Jeremiah? And would your highness be alright with this arrangement?"

"I believe Jeremiah's fields actually supply the castle, too, so yes, absolutely. This'll give me some time to confer with the King and Queen and see if we can get to the bottom of the land issue."

"Then that's settled! Jeremiah, I will be in touch. You best be off now. It's late and you have kids, do you not?"

"Yes ma'am. Two. Very little, quite rambunctious. Give the wife and I a run for our money some days."

Winter laughed. "Then you best be getting some rest. Worry not." She placed a gentle hand on his forearm. "The Seasons and I will take care of your crop issue, okay?"

He nodded, stifling a yawn. "Yes ma'am."

"And really, just Winter is fine. Now then! Off you go!"

Nodding once more, Jeremiah turned around, letting out a proper yawn as he made his way back inside the house. The pair waited for a moment until the final light glowing in the back of the house went out.

Winter hummed. "That takes care of that, then."

"You are a very impressive woman. Have I ever told you that?"

"Haven't the foggiest," she lied, smiling up at him coyly. "I do apologize for taking charge there, ah, your highness."

"Pfft. Don't! Please. I…it’s nice to not have to be all formal and what have you. Can I escort you anywhere?"

"No, I best be off. I've only just started my rounds, you know! There's a whole half of the globe waiting for me tonight beyond these healing waters."

"Globe?"

"Yes. My job takes me all over it, Blaise."

"Huh. I guess it would, wouldn't it? I just...I never really thought about it, you know?"

Winter watched as Blaise looked thoughtful. Smiling to herself, she let out another little hum, tugging on the arm she still held captive. "Perhaps I can escort you to your lodgings for the night?"

"Oh, no need! But I'd ah, appreciate the fine company on the walk."

"Lead the way, then. And do elaborate, if you please."

"Elaborate? How?"

"You've never thought of the world beyond Crystal Springs? Ever? At all?"

They took the path that Pyros had trodden hours earlier, heading straight into the heart of the town instead of hanging the left to the tall purple tower in the distance, where the windows glowed with light, magic sparking right out the chimney. The Royal Guard patrolled the street, local guards in tow the closer they got to the centre.

"No. Never."

"Not ever?"

"Well...okay, maybe I'm a bit of a liar. I have thought about it. But I've been taught all my life that it's unsafe, y'know? As most of the people are taught. That ordibeings would hunt us for our magic again the moment we left the safety of the Springs. So I try not to think about it, and I try to enjoy the cross-continent trip here every time we're sent out. It's nice to remember that there are places, beautiful places that exist outside the castle walls. To remember why Pyros and I are doing what we're doing."

"And even more beautiful places exist outside the continent! Beyond the oceans and the icebergs. There are a whole different set of stars on the other side of the globe at night! It's amazing. It's beautiful."

"And dangerous."

"Sometimes, yes. But not as bad as it was during the Wild Magic era. Most ordibeings have their own set of beliefs and their own versions of magic; they don't really need ours. Oh, they have stories, of course. But to them, they are simply stories and I'd wager that were we to venture out of Crystal Springs...we'd be okay. I mean, my sisters and I are! So is my Mother, and we're out of the continent nightly practically! And the Legendary Figures, they're all quite all right, the ones who roam about."

"Yeah, but they're Legendary Figures!"

"So?"

"I mean...they have more power at their disposal; they don't need to worry when they go out. But we do. That's why we were brought here, right?"

"So the history books say. But that's the thing, Blaise. It's history. We're very stuck in some ancient ways here, when you think about it, and I know you do."

He was silent as they approached a cozy main street, taverns and inns still lit up for the night, though the music had ebbed and silence had descended.

"Look, Blaise. I go beyond the Springs and I'm not a Legendary Figure."

"But you're a season."

"And technically, so are you, you know. We're the same type of sprite! Seasonal as opposed to elemental."

"I know, but I wouldn't want to step on Summer's toes. I wouldn't be allowed to."

"Says who?"

"Who do you think?"

Winter scoffed. "Ah, they're old. Very stuck in the old ways. Sometimes I think that's a bad thing."

"...Sometimes I think so, too. I mean. Mom and Dad are all about power and they interlink it with safety all the time! And when we're out here, I don't have to think about all that! And Pyros stops thinking about it too and it's kinda nice, you know? I mean, they've been here and in power for thousands of years. To think the world is still the same is...insane!"

Winter laughed. "Tell me something, Blaise. Would you still sneak out for me?"

Blaise blinked. "Oh. Most definitely. Between you and me, your snowiness," he leaned in, close to her ear. "I hate being in the fucking castle all the time."

Winter laughed. "I can't believe the magic let you get away with that!"

"I'm that passionate about it! That's why I love these outings so much! I'm not in the castle and," they came to a stop, Blaise spinning her about as the guards in front of the nicest inn in the sector stood to attention and dutifully looked away. "I get to see lovely people like you."

"Well, maybe you should accompany me out one of these days."

"Out like out out? Like out there?"

Understanding the sudden need for less words, Winter nodded. "Oh yes."

Blaise paused, fighting back a grin. "I think I'd like that. A lot."

"Oh, brilliant!" Clearing her throat as the guards shifted, Winter stepped back. "Thank you for the escort, your highness," she said, dutifully casting her eyes down and curtsying most graciously.

"Of course, your snowiness. It was my pleasure," he replied, placing his arm across his chest and bowing back. "Be safe tonight."

"Of course. And good luck on your travels."

Nodding at one another (and biting back grins something fierce), Blaise watched as Winter turned on her heel expertly, fully thawed tresses bouncing about. She nodded most graciously to the royal guards (the few that had been giving the Prince a moment of privacy as best as they could clanking as they stood to attention, scrambling to salute) and disappeared on the spot, the smattering of snowflakes left in her wake drifting down his way.

He gazed goofily up the street, maybe for a bit too long, only coming to his senses when one of the guards beside him cleared his throat. Straightening up, he waved (the guards happily standing down) and walked up the path and into the inn as regal and posh as possible, only dropping the act and grinning to himself when he closed the door to the inn shut behind him.

"And at what time do you think this is? And looking like THAT?!?!? And WHAT is IN your ARMOUR?!!"

Blaise frowned in quite the over-dramatically grotesque manner, one eye squinting in distaste as he plucked a tiny bit of wheat out of his couter. He held it up in front of him, Marv an angry purple blur behind it.

"It would appear to be wheat, Marv."

"And why is there wheat in your armour?"

"Because I was doing my do diligence and investigating a wheat problem in the fields."

"Hmm." Folding a napkin, he got up gracefully, surveying the prince with an unamused look. "And are you sure you acquired it like that? And not, per chance, tousling around in fields with a certain high ranking season?"

Blaise glowered. His hair burnt taller and hotter. He flicked the wheat away, approaching Marv at his full height. "I would appreciate it, Marvin, if you would refrain from using such crude language when talking about any of the seasons."

"And I would appreciate it if you made it easy to be your steward."

Blaise rolled his eyes, hair dimming. "I'm not the one you should worry about, Marv." He stepped around the drow, heading towards the stairs. "You and I both know that." He paused by Marv's table, grabbing a bun from the small bowl of bread in front of him. "You're not staying up to wait for him, are you?"

"Indeed I am."

Blaise snorted, half chewed bread going flying. "He's not coming back here for the night."

"I beg your pardon?"

"He'll spend the night with the castor."

"No he will not."

"Yes he will." Blaise spun on his heel, clanking up the first two steps. "So you MIGHT AS WELL get some sleep. You're so grouchy when you don't."

Marv's undignified yell gave Blaise great satisfaction as he bounded up the stairs, polishing off his pilfered bread and ducking into his room (one of two heavily guarded doors). He chuckled to himself, throwing off the armour (the burnished metal casually floating itself into a neat pile) and the layers underneath until he was left in nothing but his briefs. He slid into bed, arms behind his head as he thought of the world outside the healing waters and well beyond the floating icebergs.

---

The morning dawned bright and early, as it was wont to do in the early fall. Outside, the grass was crisp; a fresh layer of frost slowly melting as the sunlight hit it.

Up and at 'em and fully armoured once more, Blaise bounded down the stairs, barely able to withhold his snort when he saw Marv snoring at his table, head on his arms. Carefully, he pried a napkin out from under the bread basket, conjuring a pencil and writing something down very fast. Satisfied, the pencil disappeared and Blaise crumpled the napkin in his fist, sliding up to the counter top and clearing his throat.

Marv shot up. "Gah! Your Highness!"

"Morning Marv! I guess he didn't come in last night, huh?"

Marv cleared his throat, stepping up and righting his table. With a wave of his hand, his robes straightened themselves out, his hair looking less bedhead-y and nice and neat. "I am…unsure."

"Mm. That checks out. Ah! Tilly!"

The barkeep let out a meep, rushing to curtsy. "How can I help ya, your highness?"

"I was just wondering if there was a washroom I could use down here." He glanced over at Marv surreptitiously. The Drow was distracted, talking to Kira, the chief of security. With a flick of his wrist, Blaise slid the crumpled napkin towards the barkeep, glancing down at it and back up at her.

Catching his gaze, she reached out and uncrumpled the napkin. Her eyes skimmed the words quickly, brightening as she finished reading the hastily scrawled message. "Ah! Of course! It's just behind the staircase! There's a hallway. Make a right, and it'll be right on the end."

Blaise grinned. "Thank you, Tilly."

She bobbed her head. "Of course!"

Chuckling to himself, Blaise grabbed the crumpled up napkin, crushing it up in his palm and reducing it to ash. He followed her instructions, grinning when he turned the corner and sure enough, there was the back exit, door wide open as staff brought in the groceries for the day.

Excusing himself politely, Blaise scrambled around the staff, ignoring the scrambly bobs as he looked up and down the street for any sign of his counterpart.

There was none.

Avoiding the front of the inn, Blaise put out his hair, blending in with the crowd as best as he could and reaching out with his mind.

He was close. Just coming down the path and turning towards the main street.

Blaise rushed past the taverns, turning up the street (briefly skidding), relieved when he saw Pyros coming down the path. His gaze was intensely focused on an object in his palm as he headed down the way, looking very, very dishevelled.

Hey. Hey. Hey. Look up.

Blinking, Pyros looked up, making eye contact with Blaise, who was grinning maniacally and waving boisterously, in Pyros's very humble opinion.

I didn't realize you could wave as loud as you could speak.

Blaise laughed, bounding up the street and coming to a stop beside Pyros, turning on his heel and falling into step. I am a sprite of many talents! He smirked, his hair lighting up with a soft whoosh. We have a problem.

We do?

Well, you do. Blaise cleared his throat, pointing to the bottom corner of his own mouth. "You got something there. What is that, Jam? Jelly? Ketchup? Dye?!"

"I've yet to wash up. Figured I could do that in whatever rooms Marvin secured for us and have a nice breakfast before getting down to business."

"Not to be confused with the business you have obviously already gotten down to."

Pyros glanced down at his outfit. It was...wrinkled; dishevelled. The, uh...dye (lip paint. It was 100% lip paint) was smudged on his face AND his hands, he realized, and Lady only knew where else! His outfit was covered in magical residue and glitter that seemed very not magical. "Okay, and? What's your point?"

"Marv knows you didn't come in last night. Your royal hinny is screwed and not in the fun way I imagine it to have been last night."

"I would appreciate it if you didn't imagine my royal hinny in any capacity whatsoever."

Blaise snickered. "It's not literal."

"Good."

"Thankfully! My royal hinny is very clever and very suave and snuck out to intercept you which thank the LADY I did because voila!" Blaise snapped his fingers, and Pyros was suddenly looking as pristine as he would've had he gone home and done his morning toilette before emerging for the day. "All fixed up, and now it'll simply look like we are walking back to town together, having gotten up to none shenanigans whatsoever last night."

Pyros flashed him a wry smile. "Really? None shenanigans? From you?"

"None whatsoever."

"That'll be the day. And oh, there he is. Right on time."

"Brace yourself. I already had my lecture. He's had all night to think of yours."

"WHERE have you BEEN!" Marv marched down the street, three guards behind him, Kira at his side. "I turn around for one second and you disappear—"

"Very unwise, Blaise."

"And YOU! I leave you alone for a night and you DON'T come HOME?!"

"I was busy!"

"Yeah you were. Grrrr—oof."

Blaise rubbed his stomach as Pyros retracted his arm, standing at full height and looking down his nose at Marvin. "As you were well aware, Marvin, we had a sticky—" (a pause for Blaise's snort and another whack, on the chest this time) "—situation to find a solution for. And since Blaise requested it to be non-lethal, it required a bit of an…intense magical research session."

"You could've sent a letter! A scry, a fireball literally ANYTHING! You are a prince! The both of you! If something happened to either of you that would be very very bad all around."

"Ah, please. We can handle ourselves."

"And if anyone did anything to Blaise short of killing him, they'd give him right back. Ten minutes, tops."

"They'd give you back in five."

"Is that a challenge?!"

"NO! There will be NO challenges of this particular sort!" Marvin pinched the bridge of his nose. "I am just looking out for the two of you. And if the both of you MUST mess about in the evenings at least elicit some decorum and for Goddess's sake let me know."

"Mess about?" Pyros raised an eyebrow at Blaise. "None shenanigans, eh?"

"None whatsoever."

"Hm. How's Winter doing?"

"Very well, thanks."

"Lady help me. At LEAST you are presentable, Prince Pyros."

Blaise flashed him a smug look. Pyros sighed. Thank you.

His twin grinned. Anytime.

"Feel better, Marv?"

"There is nothing short of an overnight stay at the springs that could make me feel better."

"We'll add it to the itinerary for you. So! Pyros! How'd it go?"

"Very well! We managed to isolate the sticky bit of the pygmys and extract it from them, reducing them to harmless little fluffy. Things. As for the sticky secretion, Prisma had the delightful idea to isolate it and use it to make a new kind of adhesive. She wants to test it first, so we only have the one at present.” He lifted the object in his hand—an unmarked tube. Also slightly covered in glitter. “She'll be joining us shortly to do just that."

"Where is she now?"

"Placing little sticky absorbing devices across town. This way, should the pygmys start secreting once more, the devices will use the magic we imbued within them to take it right off and store it."

"And the pygmys?"

"Can now bounce around no more harmful than, say, a tumbleweed or Blaise when you wake him up too late in the day."

"Hey!"

"He's right, your highness."

Blaise made an undignified sort of moaning and or groaning sound in his throat. "Whose side are you on here, Marv?"

"Mine. And it is a lonely, fruitless side, let me tell you. Now then. We've much to discuss and itinerary changes to make so, let's go eat and then go about our day. I shall have a setting put out for this castor of yours, Prince Pyros."

"Very good."

"Shall I set one for her snowiness, Prince Blaise?"

Now Pyros grumbled while Blaise held back a snort. "No, no. That, uh, won't be necessary. She'll be coming by at a later date to touch base with the tenant whose fields are frosting over. She's, uh, not joining us for breakfast." He scratched the back of his neck, sheepish.

Pyros smirked. “You’d like that though, wouldn’t you.”

“Immensely.”

“Shame we can’t switch.”

“Alas! She is a season, not a talented castor.”

Deciding against chiding the pair of them for their silly little banter, Marvin pressed his fingertips together. "Hmm. Very well. Come along, you two."

Clapping, Marvin set back towards the inn, hands behind his back, head held high. The detachment of guards that had surrounded him now surrounded the Twin Princes, ushering them forward while preventing them from backtracking or making any other attempts to escape and or engage in tomfoolery, as it were. After all, they had a schedule to keep. Rounds to continue on and issues to address. Being behind simply would not do. Not for Blaise, not for Pyros, not for Marv or any other members of the royal detail that'd been sent out to keep the peace, as it were.

---

Days later the Twin Princes found themselves once more shut into their carriage, both boys looking out the window with similar, thoughtful frowns. The carriage rumbled on, rain splattering the rooftop as the sun shone brightly.

Thoughts in faraway places well beyond the sun showery path before them, Blaise let out a melancholy sigh.

"Hmm. That's not good. You're usually rearing to get to the South."

"I do love me a good beach."

Pyros smiled to himself, glancing back out the window. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

He could ask mentally. Didn't even need to ask; could just pop on into his head and figure it out for himself. It's not like he blocked his end of their connection; neither of them did.

But it was a lot more fun to outright ask.

"Hey, Blaise."

"Mm."

"What're you thinking about?"

Success! His twin smiled through the hand pressed onto his face, the severity dropping and revealing the more carefree brother he was used to. "Land disputes. You?"

"Pygmys."

"Pygmys?"

"Pygmys. See, here's the thing." He leaned forward in his seat, hands folded between his knees. "The word pygmy is just that! A word! It usually denotes something smaller than the regular. And they used it to describe those small fluffy things."

"What would you call them instead?"

"Hmm. Don't know. Fluffs? Fuzzes? Fuzzies? Fuzzballs? Furries? Furbies?"

"I don't like that last one."

"Nor do I. Furby sounds like it could be a curse word. Like, a good and proper curse you'd cast, not a cuss word." He paused briefly, taping his nose. "Now, here's the thing. If the word pygmy denotes a smaller version of something, it begs a question."

Blaise dropped his hand from his face, giving Pyros his full, undivided attention. "Go on."

"If these pygmys are called that by the locals simply because they are small, is there a bigger pygmy? A giant pygmy to rule them all? A fuzzball the size of both of us?"

Blaise laughed, a right and proper loud laugh. "Maybe that's why they're so sticky? Maybe it's because they stick together and make a big ol' clump of fuzzball and THAT'S the one fuzzball to rule them all!"

Pyros lit up. "Ou! I didn't even think of that possibility! Now, IF that's the case, where is it? Where does it reside? What does it want? And should we find it?"

"Or will it find us..."

Now Pyros found himself snorting, the pair of them laughing up a storm to out storm the sun shower outside.

The carriage rumbled on, bringing the princes closer and closer to their next stop, their laughter echoing about the entourage. Guards perked up; Blaise's horse whinnied happily, trotting up to the window and trying his best to shove his little head into the carriage with them.

On the covered seat of the carriage, Kira chuckled, elbowing Marvin gently.

"You gotta admit. It's nice to see the two of them getting along and in such high spirits."

"Kira, if I admit that, I am sure it will be my downfall. I have a reputation to keep, you know. Lady only knows what'll happen if I destroy it. All my credit!"

She laughed. "Of course, of course. Goddess forbid."

She looked away, smiling to herself, because even Marvin could not hide the slight smile their jovial (and, quite frankly, very unbecoming of their station, if you asked him) hooting and hollering brought to his face.

[cicidraws]

okay so

ignoring the dirty mirror and how Rough this looks

i tried to do some sebastian cosplay stuff with spending as little as possible - if i had the money to get better supplies it would look way better than this. but for what it is its Okay-ish. i need to adjust the face proportions the best i can + fix the esca + lower the fins on the headband, etc. theres alot i still need to do for these. but i just wanted to show what it looks like.

unfortunately its very hot to wear as there isnt enough holes in the mask for me to breathe. so ill actually be cutting the jaw off under the top lip, and making it movable so that i can breathe and it wont be as restricting on my face. nothing is done so here is my wip of these things! i still have to paint and fix the tail but everything thats been used has been what i have around the house.

[chaos-in-one]

I find it funny when people talk about how a zombie apocalypse would look "more realistically" and completely forget that a decomposing body looses all muscle function in less than 2 days after death- even if somehow there was anything realistic that could make dead bodies get up and attack people, unless there was a way for it to functionally replace the nerves and muscles of the body (for example, very futuristic Nanotechnology) they wouldn't be functional zombies for very long, the apocalypse would be over in probably a handful of weeks.

[eemcintyre]

Terry Silver-coded lyrics from "The Black Parade"

Aka one of the best albums of all time

(I know this is a very niche post but hopefully y'all will see my vision; there's some Twig, 80s, and CK-era content, and a lot overall relating to my personal theory about how his character might/should end up)

"Did you get what you deserve- the ending of your life... Have you heard the news that you're dead? No one ever had much nice to say; I think they never liked you anyway. Oh, take me from the hospital bed. Wouldn't it be grand? It ain't exactly what you planned."

"If life ain't just a joke, then why are we laughing?"

"To un-explain the unforgivable, drain all the blood and give the kids a show... There're things that I have done you never should ever know."

"And now, you wanna see how far down I can sink?"

"Well, I think I'm gonna burn in Hell. Everybody burn the house right down and say what I wanna say. Tell me I'm an angel, take this to my grave. Tell me I'm a bad man, kick me like a stray."

"But the shit that I've done with this fuck of a gun- you would cry out your eyes all night. We're damned after all. Through fortune and flame we fall. And if you can stay then I'll show you the way to return from the ashes you call. We all carry on when our brothers in arms are gone."

"Some say 'now suffer all the children' and walk away a savior or a madman and polluted from gutter institutions. Don't you breathe on me, undeserving of your sympathy, 'cause there ain't no way I'm sorry for what I did. And through it all how could you cry for me? 'Cause I don't feel bad about it."

"A drink for the horror that I'm in. For the good guys and the bad guys, for the monsters that I've been. Three cheers for tyranny, unapologetic apathy, 'cause there ain't no way I'm coming back again."

[stabbyfoxandrew]

omg guys yesterday i said i was gonna answer asks and disappeared sorry TWT

[hershelwidget]

wait hang on

HANG ON

DO YOU SEE MY VISION