#kestrel skull

[keuwibloom]

Its been a while since ive posted anything Parasynth, so I thought id make these polaroid-inspired drawings to make up for it!

As an added bonus-- I have nicknames for the guys! I actually made these a while back, but I figured id post them here for organization purposes, and so its easier to differentiate when talking about Parasynth.

The nicknames + my reasons behind choosing them listed below the cut!

Blue "Polaris" - Also known as the "north star", polaris is the only stationary star in the night sky, commonly used as a compass for navigation. A star that symbolizes stability when you've lost your way.

Dream "Apollo/Pol" - Named after the Greek god of the sun, music, medicine, and archery, twin brother to Artemis. Went with this because of the twin thing and sun symbolism, plus the healer and archery association.

Ink "Opal" - Opal is a gemstone that shines with rainbow colors. A true opal gem also has a base color of white, which fits with Ink's whole thing. Ink also calls others "pal" so I thought the name would be a nice reference to that.

Axe "Condor/Kon" - A large scavenger bird, related to the vulture. One species of it is the largest flying bird in the world. A condor's head also has no feathers, which kinda reminds me of Axe's skull.

Nightmare "Artemis/Arte" - Named after the Greek goddess of the moon and the hunt, twin sister to Apollo. Chosen for the same reasoning as Dream's nickname. Artemis is also the goddess of wilderness and wild animals, which fits with the gang (in a "they're a group and they are dangerous" way).

Killer "Shrike" - A cute little passerine bird that is known to impale its prey on sharp things, usually thorns. Shrikes are also known as "butcher birds". I think it fits with his vibe, plus shrikes have these black markings over their eyes that remind me of Killer's eyes.

Dust "Owl" - A nocturnal bird that has eerily silent flight and large eyes that reflect light in the dark so it looks like its glowing. I was in between this one and "Kestrel", but I feel like Owl fits Dust's general vibe better.

Cross "Cypress/Cy" - A tree that symbolizes longevity and endurance, but also mourning. It's also associated with protection and strength. I was looking for stuff that was associated with the goddess Artemis and the cypress tree was one (also the gang as birds and Cross as the tree they rest on).

Error "Oregano" - An herb that has a very strong bitter/peppery taste and smell. It's known to have antiviral properties and other benefits, but it is best used in small amounts. I also chose this name to parallel Opal (rock VS plant).

Swap/Blue belongs to the AU Community

Dream and Nightmare belong to Jokublog

Ink belongs to Comyet

Horror/Axe belongs to Sour-Apple-Studios

Killer belongs to Rahafwabas

Dust belongs to Ask-Dusttale

Cross belongs to Jakei95

Error belongs to Loverofpiggies

[fuckyeah-mcyt]

I just started watching Pirates SMP (through Martyn's perspective) and I noticed something interesting in the background of the Kestrel House.

This skull looks suspiciously similar to another skull in another SMP. Namely...

This one. I know the picture doesn't properly show the empty eye socket, but the skull in Scott's Empires 2 series has the same reddish-pink gem in the right socket and nothing in the left one.

I'm sure someone else has noticed this before but I thought it was so interesting. I don't know if it's a purposeful easter egg or just a coincidence but either way it's fun to think about.

[bittercoffeeonmykeyboard]

Pushing Buttons

The Riddler x Fem!Reader

Summary - The Riddler pushed a few too many of your buttons, and you accidentally pushed a couple of his. Pent up frustrations lead to... surprising developments.

Authors Note - Reader is referred to as "Kestrel." Genitals and pronouns for the reader aren't specified, but reader is also referred to as "Ma'am," so I figured it would be alright to specify fem!reader and FemDom. Can be read as GN!reader. This Riddler is not from any specific media, but inspired by ArkhamVerse and CodotVerse.

Warnings - NSFW 18+, Canon-Typical Violence, Dub-con, Hand-job, Hair pulling, Blood, Grinding, Biting, FemDom, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Enemies to Lovers and back to Enemies, Hate-Fucking (without actually fucking), Degradation, Reader Insert, Kinda verges on OC Insert, No use of Y/N

Word Count - 3.1k

Beta Reader/Editor - @timesnewreader

The crackle of a shitty connection stabbed your ears suddenly, as you were crouching in the rafters of the warehouse.

"Is that the sound of a bird trapped in my warehouse? Someone call pest control!" The Riddler quipped, invading your earpiece. You clenched your jaw.

"Watch out, I might have rabies." you shot back, thoroughly over this already. Your eyes scanned the building from your perch, searching for a hidden entrance or exit.

"Hah! Only mammals can contract rabies, Kestrel. And here I thought that was common sense?" Fucking hell. Time to find him, sooner than later preferably.

"You think you're so fucking smart-" You began.

"Think? No, I know I am, darling." He grinned through the radio, ego echoing in the earpiece.

"I'm going to beat the shit out of you." You growled as you started to leap through the rafters as quietly as possible.

"You're welcome to try, if you can find me! Too bad you can't keep up with my marvelous intellect."

His grating voice and laugh echoed in your coms.

"Kestrel. Everything alright?" Batman's voice broke over the Riddler's fading laugh.

A heavy sigh. "It's fine. Everything is in control." You reported. "We should have Oracle check our radio security. Riddles keep finding their way into my ears, so to say." A pause.

"Understood. I'll bring that up to her soon. However, the sooner you find him, the sooner that stops happening. Good luck." A beep followed his words, and Batman closed the line.

Really. Really?

"'The sooner you find him, the sooner that stops happening', oh fucking hell, Bats." You mocked. It's not your fucking fault he keeps escaping, and then deciding to make it your issue. A bubble of frustration rose in your chest.

You started to close in on a vent above a well-disguised room, dropping down next to it as silently as possible. Which, considering how frustrated both Riddler and Batman just made you, left you quite impressed with yourself.

You fiddled with your coms controls for a second, opening a channel with the rest of the group on patrol. "I'll be off coms for a while. I have a bone to pick with the Riddler." You paused, before adding "I shouldn't be long."

You closed the line and pulled the earpiece out, readying yourself. With a loud bang, you opened the vent and dropped into the room.

"Well would you look at what the Bat dragged in-"

He was cut off by a grappling hook to the ankle, accented by a thud when his body hit the ground. Your fist would have met his face if he hadn't rolled out of the way, scrambling to his feet. "I have to give you credit-"

Your foot interrupted him with almost breaking his nose. Just glanced him. Damn.

"You found me! And quicker than expected-" He levied his cane and swung for your skull. You ducked, and hooked his ankle out from under him. He hit the ground again, but hooked your own ankle and you landed on your ass. He shuffled to try and get to his feet again, and you flipped over to claw at his leg, dragging him back towards you. He swiftly tried to kick you, and landed a solid kick on your shoulder.

"Truly, one could say-" You reached to grab his arm, and he whacked your head with his cane. "Your intellect is almost on par with-" He managed to roll away form you again. "Your viciousness!" He landed a strong kick to your ribs, making you roll and groan.

You both staggered to your feet, a good six feet between you now. "You talk too much." He brandished his cane like a baseball bat. You lifted your fists, feeling rage and excitement mix in your chest.

"Now where's the fun in silence?" You barked out a laugh, before lunging forward. He swung his cane for your ribs, and you blocked it with your hand, grabbing it and pulling him into a punch, cracking his nose. "AH!"

To his merit he recovered quickly, staggering into a defensive stance as you went to kick at his ribs, managing to dodge with a jump backwards. You both still had a hold on his cane and you used both hands to drag him forward, off balance, twisted and threw him over yourself and onto his back. He landed with a cough, the impact releasing his grip on his cane.

You quickly followed him down, pinning his arms down with his own cane and straddling his waist.

"You are the most annoying man in the world. Your puzzles are shit, your ego is shit, and you deserve to get the shit beat out of you." Riddler seemed dazed, his breathing was quick and blood was starting to trickle out from his nose from your punch. "You're weak, your whole ethos sucks, and the only thing moderately acceptable about you is your sense of style, if only you weren't focused on inflating your own sense of self worth by ruining people's lives."

You spat each word at him, glaring down at him. Your breathing came heavy, filled with the adrenaline of the fight and fire of your words.

The Riddler stared up at you, eyes wide and face flushed. His face kept twitching, as if he was stuck between two expressions, unable to settle on one. "Is that all?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing as he smirked.

You removed one hand from the cane, leaning forward to pin him more securely as you grabbed his face. "You wish." You sneered down at him, piercing his eyes with yours. "Every single one of your stupid riddles and puzzles has been solved, every time. Makes you think that maybe, oh, they aren't that hard? Your riddles are easy and if you're trying to be a villain, you're failing. You're a nuisance at best, and a danger to society at worst. Maybe you should like, get better? Get better at doing the thing you made your entire identity around."

He was taking short panting breaths, face thoroughly flushed. You let go of his face and he licked his lips, catching some of the blood from his nose and smearing it. Your eyes caught on the motion, before pinning his eyes once again. His pupils were blown, and he chuckled. "Well! That's not very nice, now is it?" His legs shifted behind you, and you felt the movement from where you sat on his waist. He swallowed. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that words hurt?"

You scoffed. "You're one to talk." You leaned back, releasing some of the pressure on his wrists, and instead placing your free hand over his throat. Not pressing, but threatening to. To your surprise, he didn't immediately try to break free from his position. Shifting slightly, you felt something press against you from behind. His eyelids fluttered at the pressure and a quiet exhale left his lips. Realization dawned on you. "You're fucking disgusting." A disbelieving chuckle left you, as you suddenly found yourself nervous.

"Never claimed I wasn't, darling." He lilted, a smirk on his lips. "What can I say? Your physical prowess and verbal assault left me defenseless. I pushed your buttons, and you pushed mine." He breathed out a chuckle, and you felt it resonate beneath your hand. "If, if you'd like…" He hesitated, gazing up and down your body, before meeting your eyes again, half-lidded. "We could push each others' buttons some more?"

The suggestion sent blood rushing to your face, and loathe were you to admit it, warmth began pooling between your legs. Your hand twitched and tightened over his neck briefly, drawing a tiny moan from the Riddler. Shock at the noise caused you to release the cane and his neck, leaving his hands free suddenly. He took this opportunity to grab your wrist and roll the two of you, flipping positions.

"Ooo, see? This could be fun!" He pinned your wrist, and traced his free hand down to your hip. "A little push, a little pull, and we're off to the races." His face came close you yours, breath ghosting over your cheeks as you felt your chest stutter. Arousal mixed with anger at his audacity, heating up with a dash of shame at letting him flip your positions.

A smirk that came off as more of snarl danced on your face, and you hooked your legs over his hip and gripped his hair, dragging him down as you flipped the two of you yet again, landing him beneath you with a breathy groan. You hand firmly found his throat again as you grinned. "Bold of you to assume you'll have any control." You punctuated your statement with a harsh grind of your hips against his, drawing out a pathetic moan. "You'll do as I say, brat. Understand?"

He nodded and swallowed, breathless.

"Speak up."

"Y- yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes… ma'am?"

Another grind of the hips. "Good." A fire was lit in your abdomen, seeing him like this. Oh, the things you'll do to this man.

You grabbed the collar of his shirt and dragged him up to face you, noses nearly touching. "You're pathetic." Your lips ghosted over his, before meeting as you went to bite down on his bottom lip, keeping it trapped between your teeth as you rutted against him, reveling in the friction and his gasping moans. His hands fluttered at your hips, unsure. You slapped them away, and started pulling at his jacket and shirt. He quickly started helping you strip him until he lay before you, bare-chested. You released his lower lip to instead start trailing bites down his neck. He damn near moaned with every bite, and it was driving you wild. When you reached the junction of his neck and shoulder, you bit hard and rolled your hips, listening to the pretty little mewl he let out. You continued rolling your hips as you licked the bite, savouring the friction against your core. You could practically feel him twitch beneath you.

"Does it feel good, brat?" The Riddler nodded. "Are you so pathetic that me grinding against you is enough? "

"N… Not enough- please…."

You dragged your hand down his chest, his stomach, and down further as you drank in the flustered look on his face. His lip was caught in his teeth, trying to reign in his gasps. You shifted from straddling his pelvis to one of his thighs, guiding your knee to put gentle pressure on him. He blinked heavily and gazed through his lashes up at you. A cheeky grin crossed his lips.

"If I knew you had this in you, I think I would've tried harder to piss you off, darling."

Your hand reached the hem of his pants, tracing them. You popped open the button and slowly, slowly dragged the zipper down.

"If I knew you would've tried something like this, I would've cuffed you earlier."

With that you shove your hand past the hem and down his pants, cutting off whatever reply would've left his lips and replacing it with a choked moan. He shuddered and threw his head back. The touch of your hand had his dick twitching, you could feel his pulse as you gripped his length. It was hot in your grip. A single pump from base to head and you could feel the precum leaking from his tip. He brokenly mewled and grasped at your suit, finding purchase on your shoulder. His expression was wrecked, pupils blown and eyebrows pinched, chest heaving as he leaned his head towards your shoulder.

"Hah, so needy. I've barely touched you, and you're about to cum? Poor little touch starved fuck." You carded your fingers through his hair, gripping and tilting his head back so you could gaze at his expression better. "Riddle me this, brat. What do you want?"

His eyes locked with yours. A shuddered sigh. "Please, touch me, please, please…." he whimpered. Your hand stayed still in his pants.

"Please, what?"

Your hand tightened on his hair, and he gasped at the sting.

"Please, Ma'am! Please…"

"Good boy." A sweet, sadistic grin passed your lips. You started stroking him in an even tempo, rolling your thumb over the head with each pump. His breath stuttered and his eyelids drooped. Each stroke of your hand had little moans spilling from his lips, his hand gripped tighter on your shoulder, digging in just shy of painful. You kept his head craned back, facing the ceiling, watching every expression flicker on his face. Increasing the tempo you pull a depraved moan from his chest. Your own breaths came faster enraptured by his reactions. The air felt like fire as it passed between the two of you, charged with energy. You started pumping faster, faster as you drank in every moan and gasp, fixed on watching him come undone with pleasure. He was so close, so very close now. He was completely flushed, cheeks and chest rosy as he panted. Whimpers and mumbling falling from his lips, shuddering underneath you. "Please please pleasepleaseplease-" fell from his lips in a chant, begging. His dick was throbbing now. His eyes met yours.

"Almost there, brat. Stay with me," a firm tug on his hair as you kept his gaze pinned with yours. His hand slid from your shoulder to the back of your neck as his face started to pinch in pleasure. You kept the pace fast and steady, watching with bated breath. His eyebrows furrowed and jaw went slack as he tipped over, eye lashes fluttering as he tried to keep eye contact with you. He let out a strangled keen, moaning as he climaxed, hot cum spurting and landing on your hand, his pants, and the floor. He went nearly limp in your grasp and you supported him with the hand in his hair, letting go to wrap around his shoulders instead. His head fell forward and into your shoulder. "Sh shh shhh, good boy, you did so good for me." You held him as he caught his breath, inhaling slowly as he came down from his high. You let go of his cock and wiped the cum off your hands with his pant leg as he raised his head back up, his rational mind starting to return. Similarly, you began to realize exactly what just happened. You looked him in the face, making sure he was alright (he was grinning), before briskly letting go and backing away from him, standing up. "Shit." "I'd say that was quite the contrary, dear. Definitely not shit." He let out a breathless chuckle.

"Put your fucking clothes back on." You turned away from him. What the fuck did you just do?? Gave the Riddler a goddamn hand job right after beating the shit out of him, that's what. Fuck it all what were you thinking! You heard the shuffle of him putting his shirt and coat back on, and only turned around once you heard the zip of his pants. He recovered quite well from the mess of a man he was on the floor mere minutes ago, the only tell being the cum stains near his crotch and the specific smell of musk emanating from him. "Well now riddle me this-" he starts. "Don't-" "What gets longer when pulled, fits snugly between breasts, slides neatly into a hole, and works well when jerked?" He grins back at you, delighting in the riddle and watching your inner turmoil flash across your face. "Oh my god. Bubble gum? A cigarette? Fuck off." You paced away from him, setting distance between the two of you. "Certainly not your dick," you called over your shoulder. "Is that your final answer? Really, I expected more eloquence but I guess you can't win all the time, now can you?" He sighed over dramatically, picking up his cane and inspecting it. The Riddler rubbed at a tiny scratch on the handle.

You could feel your blood pressure spike again. Your jaw clenched as you glared back at him. Attempting a sardonic smile but really only succeeding in a snarl, you tilted your head at him. "Eloquently, I hope rats turn your mattress into a refinery of their trash, and you wake up in a pool of your own piss." You started to stomp back over to him, anger pumping into your bloodstream, thankfully masking anything else you might be feeling at the moment. "In-eloquently, fuck off and suffer." You stabbed your finger into his chest for punctuation. He clasped your hand between both of his. "If you keep telling me to fuck off, you'll start to give me the wrong idea about us, darling." the Riddler cooed with an exaggerated pout. "You already have the wrong idea; there is no 'us'." You snatch your hand away from his. His eyes narrowed, even if his horrible, snarky grin remained. "No us, huh?" He clicked his tongue. "How disappointing." his finger found its way to your chin resting there for a moment. Next thing you know, his hand is behind your head and he's kissing you hard, more teeth than lips, and keeping you tight there against him. Shock flashes through you before the rage kicks in again, and you promptly launch your knee straight into his crotch. He releases you with a pained groan, gasping as he doubles over. Between gasps of pain, he starts a stilted laugh. You grab his arm and kick him behind the knee, pulling his arm behind his back while he's still reeling in pain. He jerks, but not before you manage to cuff both of his hands behind his back.

"That's enough of your bullshit, to the GCPD you fucking go." You haul him around and start half dragging him, half leading him to the door. Once he's fully got his feet under him, he smirks down at you. "Aw, but we were having so much fun! Truly, Kestrel, sometimes you are such a killjoy." "If you know whats good for you, you'll shut your mouth." You growled out. "Ah, I've heard that before. In fact, if I had a nickle for every time someone's told me to shut up, I think I could rival Bruce Wayne's wealth!" He chirped. Opening the door, you shove him through first, reaching to turn your coms back on. Before you can, The Riddler tilts his head back at you with a smile. "For the record, the answer is a seat belt."

big thank you to times for being a true bestie and helping me make this legible lol. they're a great beta reader!!! she has a lot of good recommendations if y'all would like to check them out!!

[riacte]

Links:

Martyn neither confirming or denying an ask that claims his character is in love with Ren (for the record, do not send ship stuff directly to CCs and keep it in the tags).

The ask: “people freaking out over you reblogging the kissing kestrels post as if you haven’t reblogged posts that say your character is in love with rendog”

Ren re playing DnD with Martyn: “there hasn’t need to be any more flirting done”

Ren saying the series he made with Martyn was “quite special for him” and he “never really felt the same after that one”

Day 1 (Axe/Shield): Martyn posts his 3rd Life movie, his community post has the axe emoji

Day 3: Martyn reblogs the altar monologue with the tags “that improv though” 3 mins after OP posted

Day 3: Ren uploads an HC ep showing his name on a sign bordered with skulls (reminding people of the Red Winter Axe)

Day 4: Ren announces his Hermitcraft King Rendog plushie (not Red King)

Day 4: Martyn watches Pale White Horse AU by cocoabats and watches Pale White Horse / Where Is Your Rider by genesis frog

-

Most of these are coincidences but uh hello Renchanting fans. How are we. In the middle of TBW too damn 😭🪓👑

[c-casu]

Islands have always hosted some of the weirdest ecosystems: giants and dwarfs, flightless birds and relicts of almost gone lineages.

The European islands of the Epigene are no different and host ecosystems much more different than the mainland.

The biggest European archipelago, the British isles, have quite similar ecosystems to each other, being so close and so similar in climate.

Both have ungulates as their biggest animals, with Reeve’s muntjac’s descendants in Ireland, one of the last places where cervids still thrive, that became as heavy as cows (the Hibernian cow-elk Hibernelaphus canobarbus), and ox-like boars in Great Britain (like the London Ox-hog or Bosus londinii).

These islands also share other herbivores, such as big fully flightless pheasants (like the Piasunstruth or Pterolophus chlorus), big walking wallaby descendants (like the Ebdanian maned kangaroo or Hibernopus cervinus) and semiaquatic fur less boars (like Wallace loch-hog or Hyopotamus wallacei) that graze on the smaller island like the Isle of Man during the summer.

One of the biggest predators of toady’s isles are red foxes that survived as medium-sized mesocarnivores, like the Irish giant fox (Ebdanocyon murphyi), but the apex predator is the Devil stork (Diablociconia higginsi), that peck their prey in vital parts to bleed them out and grabs small prey from afar.

In the Mediterranean Crete is quite different from the mainland too. The main herbivore on the island are the Cretan Dodos (Pseudodo ariadnae), flightless pigeons with a skull resembling that of the extinct dodo, hunted by the short-haired Minokatis (Minofelis cretensis), bobcat sized descendants of the endemic wildcats.

The most different of all from the mainland, tho, is definitely Malta, already without any big wild mammal it was almost instantly colonised by birds, who now rule the island. The two biggest species are the almost flightless Valletta’s Cinju (Cygnarius guelii) and the flightless Ghotifalkun (Flacoraptor gabrielis), descended from swans and kestrels.

[practically-an-x-man]

Tamiasciurus (Kestrel x Warren)

Summary: By now, Warren thought he was familiar with shapeshifting. He'd been with Kestrel for years, seen all manner of shapes and forms from them, though he'd never experienced it himself.

And after a run-in with a dangerous forest witch, he never wants to experience it again.

Word Count: 4.2k

Tags: forced transformation, shapeshifting, body horror, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, established relationship

Crossposted on AO3

____

He hated dealing with witches.

And for very good reason. It was his personal opinion that human beings were not made for magic. Magic could be given to them, of course, particularly in connection with innately-magical beings such as fairies, but it was not human nature to harness it.

He trusted fairy magic. He trusted Kestrel's magic. He even, in a strange way, trusted the magic of demons - it was not a benevolent magic, true, and he tended to avoid being stricken with such magic, but at least it was predictable.

But the magic of witches and wizards? No.

History, of both the mundane and supernatural varieties, had shown him that nothing good came from a human being with too much power. They were not bound by the rules the way creatures of innate mysticism were. They were not restricted by a code of truth, nor a code of honor, nor a set of binding internal restrictions.

The only things that held them back were the limits of the magic itself - and that meant very, very little.

Warren Burgess did not enjoy dealing with witches. But this one had begun extending her magic into the forest around her, withering trees and shriveling the wild flora like a blight, he had no choice but to attempt to reason with her.

He lasted a whole two minutes before she waved a hand at him, and he found himself shrinking.

His anatomy warped and compacted, not painful but certainly not comfortable, and he tried to move as little as he could for fear of wrenching some delicate bone out of place. He knew better than to try and fight the transformation. It would only make things worse.

He felt his skull shift, his eyes shifting almost around to his temples. He could almost see the whole room, though in a strange and almost two-dimensional way. It made his head spin, suddenly flooded with more input than he knew what to do with.

His vision darkened, reds and greens fading into muddled shades of brown - he had a colorblind cousin, and wondered very briefly if this was how he saw the world. Sensory feedback sparked to life around him: musky animal odors amidst a scent that could only be described as verdant, sharp human sweat covered by an even sharper chemical sweetness that speared into his brain, and below all of that the simple rotting richness of old wood.

His body continued to shrink- more and more and somehow even past that, until the witch standing before him might as well have been the Colossus of Rhodes. He'd stood much taller than her before this - he was knocking at the door of six feet tall, and she had the short, stooped posture of an old woman - but now his head hardly came up to the laces of her boots.

He glanced around to find that his own work boots rose around him like shipwrecks, his clothing pooled in rippling waves across the dirt floor of the shack. Somehow that felt more real than anything else.

It was too much. His thoughts sped up to Mach Ten, some hypersonic jet rattling around the inside of his brain. He felt.... jumpy. Unsteady.

Squirrely.

The witch loomed over him, and fear spiked through his body like a bolt of lightning. He was moving before he even knew he was moving.

His hands crunched down on dried leaves and soft earth- he glanced down and found that they weren't hands but paws, covered in gray-brown fur and tipped with curved black nails. He lifted his head, refusing to look at them, but that just made the world tilt dizzily on its too-wide axis.

Warren stumbled, his feet going out from under him. He felt a furry tail flick to the side, unconsciously trying to correct his balance, but it wasn't enough. He went sprawling through a mess of underbrush, the forest still spinning around him.

Massive fingers closed around him. Ripe human sweat stung his nose with almost a physical force. He writhed in the grip on instinct alone- and then paused, forced himself to pause though it made his whole body ache, these were his allies, this was his rescue. He didn't know them well but he still knew them, they could fix this, they had to fix this.

"Damn. She did it to another one."

Another? his mind echoed, Another? Another?

How many other creatures in these withering woods had once been adventurers like him? Had the armadillo he'd seen caved-in and crawling with flies on the side of the road once been a friend of his? Had the snake he'd nearly stepped on across the trail once been a Knight of the Dawn, seeking help from the only thing that looked familiar?

The grip around his body eased, and sunlight poured in. It took everything within him not to spring away. He would hold onto himself. He wouldn't let those instincts win.

This didn't seem nearly so hard when Kestrel did it.

"Warren?"

He tried to nod. It felt... foreign, somehow. He tried again.

The hands closed back around him.

"We should call Kestrel. They'll know..."

Yes! he thought, rejoice and relief dancing in his chest, Call Kestrel, please call Kestrel. They'll fix this.

More voices from above. He should have known the words, but they floated above him like clouds, shapeless and far out of reach. His heart was a staccato drumbeat in his chest. He couldn't seem to shake the panic still whirling through him.

A shadow passed overhead, and his whole body locked up. Bird. Hawk. Predator.

Before he could stop himself, he sank his teeth into the hands that held him. The man above him flinched, half-dropping and half-throwing him towards the trees, and then there was rough bark under his paws.

Moving came easily. Too easily. There were no thoughts in his mind as he hopped among the branches. The human side of him, however much of that still remained, had taken a back seat in the wake of his fear. All he knew was that he was running, and he couldn't stop.

"Warren! Wait!"

That voice wasn't human. It wasn't English. It was more of a chatter, entirely animal, somehow both foreign and familiar to his ears. But he understood the words, and knew the voice surrounding it.

He skidded to a halt, pulling on those fraying reins in the back of his mind, and forced himself to turn towards Kestrel behind him.

They had shifted into a squirrel. He guessed that was why he'd understood their cry, though it wasn't in any language he should have known. Their fur was a strange shade of brown - red, he thought, like always, but he couldn't see red now - with a brindling of grey and black along their back and limbs. Their tail flicked, and they took a few careful steps towards him.

"Not that I'm not having fun reenacting The Sword in the Stone with you," they said, and he could imagine them smiling, "But why don't we go home and try to fix this mess?"

He didn't trust himself to speak. He didn't want to hear how it would come out. All he could do was nod, the motion almost painful.

Help me, Kes. Please.

He didn't even realize he'd spoken - or made some sound, though it didn't seem like speech - until Kestrel's posture crumpled in front of him.

"I will, sweetheart. I promise." they said, "But I need you to follow my lead, okay?"

He nodded again. He'd always follow them. To the ends of the earth. He trusted them like he trusted his own heart to beat.

Kestrel took a few steps closer, and pressed themself in against his chest. Even in this strange circumstance, even in this awkward form, it comforted him.

"Take a deep breath, okay?" they murmured, "Smell is your strongest sense in this form. Memorize my scent. Hold onto it. I'm going to shift, and you're going to want to panic, but I need you to hold onto that for me."

He did as he was told, and filled his lungs. Kestrel smelled like the forest incarnate, something both primal and infinitely familiar, and it made him think of nights spent holding them in his arms, with his nose pressed into their hair. He clung to the memory with everything he had.

"Close your eyes," Kestrel urged him, gently but firmly, "Just focus on the scent. That won't change."

He closed his eyes. Kestrel, after a moment, slipped away from him.

There was a rustle, a flurry of movement, and the branch dipped underneath him. Warren forced himself not to open his eyes, much as he wanted to. Kestrel was right. He wanted to panic. Every cell in his body told him to run.

Careful fingers scooped him up, and he couldn't help but flinch. He took another deep breath- the forest incarnate, late nights held close. Kestrel. His body relaxed.

He was lifted, slowly and gently, then found himself surrounded by weathered fabric. There was a firm warmth on one side, and he could hear Kestrel's heart beating steadily beneath it.

He still felt wrong. He still felt panicked and jittery, he couldn't speak, his thoughts were running away from him, his body hardly listened to him-

But it was the safest he'd felt since the shift. And that was worth something.

Warren curled in on himself, fighting hard to keep his thoughts calm. That was his job, he told himself. Kestrel would take the lead in fixing this, his only job was to keep himself anchored until they could.

Kestrel climbed down the tree. Warren only knew this from the sound - he still didn't open his eyes or lift his head, he worried if he moved he might just go flying. They spoke with the other Knights, and he heard them apologize for the one's bleeding hand.

I'm not diseased, Warren thought, rather ludicrously, I'm still human. I'm still me. You don't need any rabies shots for that little bite. I'm so sorry.

Then he was in the car, and heard it rumbling like a great animal around him. It became unfamiliar again after only a few moments, and he had to keep reminding himself of the sound.

Beast, that animal side of his mind told him, increasingly louder, Bear. Wolf. Growl. Danger. Run.

No, he reminded himself, time and time again, It's a car. It's my old truck with that little rattle under the hood, that Dale keeps saying he'll look at but keeps getting pulled away before he can. Not a bear. Not a beast. Kestrel's driving us home.

He was slipping. He could feel himself slipping. It was growing harder and harder to hold onto his thoughts with every minute, every little bump in the road. He fought hard to focus on Kestrel's heartbeat, that forest-incarnate scent, the sound that he knew was his car, he'd had that car since he was sixteen and that was going on twelve years now, but it was growing harder and harder to keep his mind in order.

"Sweetheart," Kestrel said, and Warren had to remind himself that they were speaking to him, "Are you still with me?"

Could they still understand him in this form? When they were human and he was still... not? Through some wild fae magic?

He couldn't bear to risk it. He shifted in their pocket, twisting around until he could press one hand- paw - to the space right over their heart. He hoped that was good enough.

"It's a lot to get used to," Kestrel mumbled after a while, with the growling hum of the engine still undercutting the words. He didn't know if they were speaking to him, or just to themself. "You're a prey animal. It's so easy to be frightened. It's so easy for these normal, familiar things to feel huge and scary out of nowhere. Your brain's not meant to hold all that complicated thought like it usually is. And all your senses are thrown out of whack, it's nothing like what you're used to... it's hard."

Warren tried to hold the words in his mind, he really did, but only about half of them went through. But their voice was familiar, that gentle raptor rasp, and he could feel it all around him like a warm breeze.

He thought of animals. He thought of dogs and cats and horses, how love and safety were one and the same in their minds. Love was food and water and shelter and touch, and nothing more complex than that. He wondered if his world was shrinking to that same little pinprick. He wondered why, when so much else was frightening about this new and strange existence, it was Kestrel that had made him pause.

He thought of how he'd courted Kestrel to begin with. He thought of offering them shelter and safety after they'd been attacked by a feral troll. He thought of sharing his meals, offering everything he had to give until they began to open up towards him. Was it that human beings were the same as animals, in that way? Or was it that he'd treated Kestrel like an animal, back then- and was that wrong of him?

If it led to this, he thought, then it couldn't have been wrong. He loved them. And they loved him- and loved this life he'd been able to bring them. He couldn't regret what had turned out so beautifully in the end.

And Kestrel had no safety back then. Nobody to care for them. If he treated them as a feral animal, offering simple necessities and the barest care in the hopes of gaining their trust, it was because they saw themself as a feral animal and wouldn't let him get any closer.

The car hit a bump and the engine roared, and all of Warren's thoughts were purged from his head.

Bear. Beast. Wolf. Growl. Roar. Run.

No, he thought, No... it's the car.

Car?

He tried to picture it, but it came out all wrong. He'd had that truck almost half his life, he knew every dent in the chassis and every scuff on the seats, and yet he couldn't pull it into his head. He couldn't even remember what color it was. He'd repeated the word car in his head so many times it had begun to sound like utter nonsense.

What if Kestrel couldn't fix this? What if they could never change him back? How long until the rest of his thoughts unraveled - would he even notice when they did?

Would they still keep him around?

They had before. After the revenant. Two whole years. They'd promised for years that they'd run, but when it came down to it, they never did. They'd been broken, and verging on hopeless, but they hadn't left.

But if he wasn't even human? If his mind broke entirely, and there wasn't even a flicker of himself still left inside? If he couldn't even recognize them, if he was just another animal, if his body would run him out the door the instant he got a chance?

He didn't know which was worse: the idea that they'd surrender him to the forest, or the idea that they'd cling to him long after he was gone.

Now the fear had sparked back to life. This time it was an entirely human fear.

A shadow passed over him, and then there was a firmer pressure against his open side. Kestrel's fingers slid over his head and back, through the fabric.

"Hey, you're shaking," they murmured, "It'll be okay. We're almost home."

He wasn't sure how he'd make it. He was falling apart at the seams. He didn't know what to do.

Kestrel kept speaking. Warren tried hard to keep himself anchored to their voice. Just a little longer, he told himself.

"Remember when I got stuck? Back in Greece?" they asked, but didn't wait for a response, "Shifted and broke my wing, couldn't shift back without making it worse. You had to imp the feathers just so I could get around while it healed. I didn't know you knew how to do that."

I learned for you, he thought, grasping for the memory, I called a falconry school after we got together. Knew I'd have to do it someday.

"That was a tough few weeks. Before it was healed enough to shift back. I think not being able to speak was the hardest part. It... it isolates you faster than you can believe."

I can believe it now. I didn't then. But I can believe it now.

"And there's that animal instinct. It's hard to hold onto yourself. It's not too bad for a while, and when you're used to it, but for weeks at a time..."

Weeks? Had it been weeks already? He was getting his wires crossed. No... it had only been a few hours. Barely even that. Kestrel was telling their own story. It was different magic, and he wasn't built for this kind of magic, and he needed to fix this soon. He wouldn't last weeks.

"But you were there for me. The whole time. Even though it was hard, and even though it was weird, and even though you had to do it all and still focus on the mission that had us in Greece in the first place, you were right there for me. You kept me steady."

It was nothing, Warren thought. Or maybe it wasn't nothing - it wasn't easy, it was still effort - but these were the things you did for love. You helped your loved one when they needed it, and they did the same when the roles were flipped. It wasn't easy, but it was... intuitive.

Kestrel's hand fell away from him again, and he felt his momentum slow. The car (beast! bear! run!) came to a careful stop and went silent. He was faintly jostled as Kestrel stood up.

He wondered how long it had been. Time seemed to spread out before him, shapeless and indistinct. It could have been minutes or it could have been hours. The words in his head were meaningless.

"Almost there." Kestrel said, nearly jogging. He heard their feet crunch on grass and dried leaves far below, and the forest filled his nose.

Dimly, he thought of his cabin. Home, he thought, and that word still had meaning, but the image of it was blurred in his head. Instead his thoughts were filled with images of damp little coves, knots in trees and hollows under bushes. He'd have grimaced, but his mouth wouldn't move like that. This wasn't right. His mind was falling apart, piece by piece.

The screech of a door- bird scream run hide - and the smell of dust and warmth and home surrounded him. Another voice from above. Words, he thought. Maybe his name. They floated in his ears but didn't reach his brain.

Clinking. Clattering. Unfamiliar sounds. The same voice above him. Mumbling. The forest incarnate.

Jostled- he lifted his head, peered out at the world around him. A dusty room. Colossal shapes. Clutter. Colors.

A door- open door trees run free go go go and then his legs kicked out and he soared into open air and his tail flicked out before his balance could list and his paws were on solid wood and he nearly went sprawling as he caught the rug instead and then he was near the trees, near the grass, near home safe run go now trees safe safe fast safe-

A shouting voice and he flinched ran faster bent a nail back and felt a burst of pain smelled blood ignored it kept running. Cold water splashed his back but not water this bubbled it tingled it was magic he stumbled he fell get up go go not here not home go fast go run-

He stretched his body to keep running and it just kept stretching. Awkward limbs skidded on the rug and his body- heavier larger stranger than he remembered it- hit the hardwood and his shoulder clocked the edge of the doorframe with a sudden blinding pain and he hit the floor and stayed there.

His senses blinked in and out before they finally stabilized somewhere near normal. His body hurt in ways he couldn't describe. Warren groaned - dimly grateful to hear a human voice when he did - and passed a hand clumsily, blindly, over the parts of himself he could reach.

"Hey." He knew that voice and turned towards it, and Kestrel tucked something around his body. A blanket- the soft blue one he had draped over the sofa. He remembered his boots rising like shipwrecks around him, his clothes massive seas of fabric. He wondered distantly how Kestrel kept their clothes when they transformed. Different magic. Magic they were meant for. Not the same.

Kestrel slid in close beside him and helped him sit up. Their fingers touched his face. He reached for them almost without thinking, finding comfort in the way his fingers wrapped around their wrist.

"It's okay," they murmured, as his thoughts slowly fell back into place, "You're okay. I promised I would fix this. Let me get you a Band-Aid."

He glanced down and realized he was bleeding. His crazed scramble across the wooden floor had torn off the nail on his ring finger, and his blood dripped onto the blanket in his lap. The blue fabric had darkened to a sickly purple in spots.

His fingers fell away from Kestrel's wrist as they stood up, and he watched them cross the room. It seemed to be all he could do. He still felt off-kilter, not quite right, and he wasn't sure he trusted himself to move just yet.

Kestrel returned after only a few moments and reached to bandage his bleeding hand. Warren fumbled for words for a moment or two. They felt like crickets jumping around in his head, near-impossible to catch.

"How did you..."

"Put a bit of my own magic in a stable suspension," they replied, "Probably not as sophisticated as the sort of potion Tanu would have come up with, but it worked well enough. Do you feel okay?"

Warren nodded, vaguely, though the motion sparked some strange aches up and down his spine. His body wasn't ever meant to be warped in that way. But he could feel himself settling back into it, little by little.

"I will. Soon." he answered, and felt like that was a decent enough answer. Warren dropped his head back against the doorframe behind him and let out a long, slow breath. "No offense, Kes, but... I'm never doing that again. I don't know how you do it every day."

"I'm made for it. You aren't." they reminded him, and reached to brush their fingers through his hair, "Sleep will help. Do you think you can stand up?"

He nodded again, and slowly worked to get his legs under him. The blanket slid off his lap when he stood up, and the tips of Kestrel's ears flushed crimson.

"Easy, now," they mumbled, reaching to snag it and tuck it back around his waist like a kilt, "Don't want to flash the whole forest. The fairies would never stop talking about it."

He chuckled under his breath, still a little too out-of-it to really feel embarrassed, and grabbed the hem of the blanket to hold it in place. His other arm went around Kestrel's shoulders, using them as an extra point of support in case his balance fled. He still felt heavy and awkward, lumbering around like Hugo, though he hoped that sensation would fade after he'd gotten a little sleep.

If there was any perk to how small- cozy, he told himself - the little cabin was, it was for days like this. He didn't have to hobble too far to reach the bed. Kestrel found him some clean boxers and a pair of sweatpants (more for his own modesty than their embarrassment, he knew they'd seen it all before), briefly ducked out of the room to shut the front door, then climbed into bed with him and tucked themself against his chest.

Warren folded them into his arms as he had a thousand times before. He'd never get used to it, he thought- sure, it was easy enough for it to feel like a treasure on days like this, when things had come so close to going wrong, but even when things were utterly mundane. He'd spent two years separate from the world and the people he loved. He wouldn't ever take these moments for granted again. Not in his life. He could have ten thousand more moments like this, a hundred thousand, a million, and they'd all be just as special as the very first.

He pressed his nose into Kestrel's hair and took a deep breath. The forest incarnate. The scent of home.

That never changed.

[cadcreates]

Make way for the Pirate Queen!

I wanted to make her look really intimidating, but I don't think that's possible, Ros is just too sweet, even when she blows people up (in all fairness, it was an accident). Though I did give her her skull instead of a flower crown, just because I thought it'd look cool Also no, I have no idea how big any of these birds are in relation to humans and yes, I probably made them to big, but minecraft animal physics are weird anyway so that's my excuse. Oh, also also, apologies to all the kites and kite lovers out there, I did not know where to reasonably fit one, the kestrel already was a little to large for my liking... you get a peacock and a small songbird instead.

[van-goghs-smoking-skull]

Update: Due to Tumblr's decision to partner with MidJourney, I'll be moving to Cohost.

Music: https://cohost.org/downtempo-kestrel?page=0

Art: https://cohost.org/sibi-barknd?page=0

Writing: https://cohost.org/windblownsand?page=0

Everything else: https://cohost.org/van-goghs-smoking-skull?page=0

(My works/posts will be deleted from here as I move them over as separate posts on Cohost)

(Oooo, bonus, I can switch individuals posts on Cohost to 18+ without sending my entire blog to the void - no need to have an entirely different account for one whole fic.)

(If we were mutuals and I stopped following you, you didn't do anything wrong - it's part of the process of migrating. If you have a Cohost account, just DM me what it is and I'll follow you there, instead.)

(5/13/24, the export begins. It'll take quite a while, but once I have the full download - so I can sort things out offline - I'll only be around here for DMs. I'll be available otherwise on my Cohost blogs and I'll still be on Discord, so if you want faster responses, look for me there)

(Cohost went read only on 10/7/24 and will shut down entirely by the end of the year. If we worked out keeping in contact since, you'll know where I've moved on to. If not, I'm taking it as a sign you'd rather not keep in contact at all, so there's no point in posting my online moves here anymore. I'll miss you, but it is what it is, I suppose. I still hope life treats you well. Goodbye, old distant friends.)

[professionalscrublord]

IS Heavy Lance from the Alpha Strike box set, IS Scout Lance and Clan Star to follow. Map beneath them is Racice River Delta.

"Kestrel's Lament" (Combined schemes of Kestrel Grenadiers + Stone's Lament)

A few WIP shots at the end of the reel. This was pretty fast, white primer + blue speedpaint quickly slathered on got most of the job done. Basically looks already washed, and even has a partly drybrushed look. From there I put metallic black near the tops to make the blue into a flame pattern, then white bones. A little dusting of white drybrushing to bring back the shapes concealed by the black metallic paint and presto.

Steel on weapons/heatsinks/joints and other functional parts of the mech, a touch of heat-treatment blueing on laser/PPC barrels, colored highlights on cockpit glass/searchlights/lasers, black wash on the Atlas skull. River bank basing made with water medium + stone + grass flock.

Also first time putting red/orange/yellow into the rear heatsink gratings to make an "overheating" look.

[ivyprism]

FarmHorrorfell and Farmhorrorswap Skeleton Boys (Info Dump)

Warning: Fighting, etc.

Acacia - Farmhorrorfell Papyrus

Personality: He's very serious, direct, forceful, and protective. He is the terrifying dog that everyone requires. Anyone who believes they have the right to offend their brother is met with hostility and scorn. He will be sensitive and kind to those he trusts, as well as protective, regularly covering his loved ones with his arms. He is a really caring and compassionate person. If his brother or loved ones are threatened or hurt, he will not hesitate to break up the situation. He refuses to let up and is willing to go to any length to protect his family. He is an expert with axes and will cut down trees if necessary.

Appearance: He has bright red eyelights. He has two scars on his left eye that are very big and splintering at the edges. He has freckles and a red bandana around his neck.

Kestrel - Farmhorrorfell Sans

Personality: He's a tough but caring individual. He is no-nonsense, gruff, and forthright. He never backs down from a verbal confrontation and knows how to fight. He is forceful, flirty, and protective. He enjoys having fun, but not too much so. He is determined to defend his loved ones, and he makes this obvious. He is the leader. He is highly clever and has much farming and ranching experience. He is capable of teaching others about farming. He works hard to protect the farm and its animals. He's a touch prickly, but he relaxes with those who don't wish him harm. He's also a bit of a showoff.

Appearance: He has deep red eyelights. He has freckles. He has a golden tooth and a scar on his left eye. He has a large hole in his skull that leads to a scar on his left eye.

Everett - Farmhorrorswap Papyrus

Personality: He's a ferocious, playful, and powerful skeleton. He is quite powerful and can lift some massive objects. He is a smart, astute skeleton. He realizes that in the end, it's all about plants, animals, and trees. He appreciates practical pranks. He gets a giggle at the reactions. He never backs down in a fight and is fiercely protective of his loved ones. He is quite nice and understanding, despite having a dirty tongue and being somewhat anxious, which he handles well. He enjoys serving others and, like his brother, is highly knowledgeable in this area. His desire to assist others seems to motivate him on the farm.

Appearance: He is a skeleton monster with olive eyelights. He has a large scar on his right eye that is diagonal. He has freckles. He wears a scarf.

Mallon - Farmhorrorswap Sans

Personality: He's a very protective and powerful skeleton. He is a happy and cheerful skeleton. He never backs down from protecting his loved ones. He is incredibly powerful and helps wherever he can. He's a tough guy who can help you transport your belongings. He adores his job and isn't scared to help those in need. He is courageous and clever. He is quite knowledgeable on a wide variety of things. He is very calm under pressure and enjoys helping take care of animals. He is personable and astute. He understands how to help people when he can and is not afraid to do so. He knows how to help and always resolves problems quickly.

Appearance: He has bright teal eye lights. He has a large scar on his left eye. He has freckles. He has a bandana around his neck.

-------

[clockwork-duck]

I FOUND YOU

HI ITS ME FROM THE KESTREL PACK

YK THE WIERDO WHO HAS FOX SKULLS

I KNOW, I FOLLOWED YOU BECAUSE I KNEW ALREADY.

[snkts]

🎲 - From Victor

Kiss Roulette!

38. A kiss while one party is carried

He’s struggling to stop his eyes from glazing over. Logan is a good soldier. Logan memorises and follows his orders. He carries out his missions without complaint. He’s effective. He’s good. He’s the best. He’s bored out of his skull. He knows he’s not the only one. He catches Victor’s eye and, when the COs are turned around, makes a show of letting his shoulders droop and grimacing. There's a ghost of a smirk on Vic’s face and he pops his eyebrows in silent agreement. A flicker of movement, the sound of shifting weight, hints that the CO is about to turn around, and the two men face forward. More information they don't need. Yeah, knowing was half the battle. Yeah, Logan always made sure to read the reports and briefing notes. He did his homework. 

But this was too much. The officer turns back to the display, and Vic nudges his shoulder. Logan glances his way. Vic raises a hand to scratch innocently at his jaw, then, for just a second, his hand makes the shape of a pistol, and he jerks his head to the side as though ‘shot’. Logan clamps his jaw down to avoid grinning. At least they have this. Makes it halfway tolerable. At his right, Maverick sighs and rolls his eyes. Nice to know he was dead set on being a drag. Finally, finally, the display clicks off. Thank Christ. It’s a struggle not to say something like that out loud, but he manages. 

“... Which concludes our briefing.” The officer said. What was his name again? He wasn’t one of their usual handlers - Parson, or Peterson, or something like that. Whatever. “Are there any further questions?” 

Silence. 

Special Agent Parson-or-Peterson nodded. 

“Very well.” He said. “If that’s the case, we’re done here. Your personal briefings will be delivered to you later today.” 

“Sure. Drop it off when you put the mint on my pillow.” Victor retorts and Logan has to duck his head and bite his lip to keep his reaction contained. He gets away with just a snort. Maverick sucks in a sharp inhale. Silver Fox hisses a warning “Victor!” through her teeth. Kestrel huffs his quiet amusement, and Mastodon tensed so suddenly Logan heard his shoulders clench. Victor didn't spare them a parting glance. He wasn't looking for their approval. Logan caught his eye when he looked up again and, when Victor sees his smile, his entire scent and posture blooms to delight. It's adorable, and Logan lets his smile show a bit more. Victor grins. 

“Sabertooth.” Parson-or-Peterson snaps. Vic’s expression shifts to a barely restrained irritation. “Do you think you’re funny?” Vic seems to ponder this for a moment, then shrugs, clasping his hands loosely behind his back. 

“You saying I should quit my day job, sir?” The humour in Victor’s voice is colder now, sharper. More dangerous. Uh oh.

“I would advise against it.” The officer sounds equally terse. The air in the room is thick with anticipation, dominance, anxiety. 

“Vic-” Logan mutters. His caution is ignored as Parson-or-Peterson continues. 

“Perhaps we should have you take point on this mission.” He sneers. Victor grins again, making a point of showing his fangs. 

“I’d love that, sir.” He rumbles. That, at least, is not a joke. Victor may not have much interest in leading the team, but being set loose with nobody in charge of him? Dream come true. 

“A shame.” The officer sniffs. “Because Maverick will call the shots.” At Logan’s other side, Maverick sighs quietly and stands straighter. 

“Yes, sir.” He says curtly. Victor snorts, but says nothing. The officer turns and leaves with another harsh ‘dismissed’. Wild Cat, Kestrel, Silver Fox, and Mastodon go one way. The real top dogs of Team X - Wolverine, Sabertooth, and Maverick - go another. The door shuts and, to Logan and Victor, the officer’s footsteps continue in a third direction and vanish. It’s safe to talk now. It’s safe to be close. 

Logan adjusts his stride until his arm brushes Victor’s with every step. In a movement as natural as breathing, Victor hooks his little finger around Logan’s. (Subtle enough they won’t get caught, warm enough to mean something.) 

“You should be more careful.” Maverick breaks the silence. 

“Careful?” Victor echoes. 

“Yeah. Careful.” Maverick says again. “You’re stirring up trouble for all of us. I don't like this Paulson guy any more than-” 

“Paulson! That’s the bitch.” Logan exclaimed, snapping his fingers. Victor let out a surprised bark of laughter. Maverick blinked.

“What-?” 

“Couldn’t remember his name.” Logan shrugged. Victor snickered. Maverick groaned. 

“Never mind. Do what you want. Just don't make me haul your dumb asses out of another firefight.” 

“Wouldn't dream of it, bub.” Logan grins. Maverick shakes his head and peels off down a different hallway. Once he’s out of sight, Logan slips his hand into Victor’s properly. Victor’s ears turned pink even as he squeezed Logan’s palm. 

“I don't like the way he was looking at you.” He muttered. Logan’s face scrunched in confusion.

“Who? North?” 

“Wh- No! No.” Victor shook his head and held on tighter. “Agent Paulson. He was freakin’ me out - didn’t you notice?” Logan shouldered open the door to the bunkhouse and tilted his head. 

“Is that why you were so tense back there?” 

“I’m not tense.” Victor grumbles. Logan studies him for a moment, watching as Victor stands with his arms crossed and looks anywhere but at him. Something is really bothering him. 

“You wanna-”

“No.” Victor turns away more, but Logan doesn’t miss the way he fidgets. He frowns.

“But you’re not tense.” 

“I’m just peachy.” Victor’s claws flex in and out. So he didn’t want to talk. Fine. 

“Alright.” Logan shrugged, wandering over to his own bunk. “Guess I don’t gotta help you relax, then.”

“What?” Victor’s head snapped up so fast Logan swore he heard the vertebrae crack. Bingo. 

“Well, if you’re not tense.” Logan says innocently, peeling his shirt off and tossing it on his cot to fold. “Ya’ don’t need any help unwinding.”

“I’m tense!” And Vic is behind him, his hands on Logan’s hips. “I’m tense, I’m so tense.” Logan smirks and turns around.

“Yeah.” He said, then hooked his hands under Vic’s thighs and lifted. His mate’s back hits the wall with a thud and it’s so sweet, watching his face flush so quickly. “I know.” He leans up for a kiss and Vic responds eagerly, holding the sides of Logan’s face in his palms. 

“Don’t get yourself so worked up, Kitten.” Logan whispers against his lips. “Anything they wanna throw at us, we can handle together.” 

Victor responds with teeth.

[feliniakattus]

Name: Cassia

Role: Legionaire/Historian of the Coalition

Family: Kunai (parent), Kestrel (father), Bateleur (grandmother), Vulvark (grandfather), Pagoda (sister).

Description: A tall, slender dark brown and white jack with a broken horn and several scars, including a prominent one on xis back. There are antelepus skulls on a string on their belt, three bags hanging from his shoulder, and three rings with differing engravings on the unbroken horn.

Age: 7 cycles, roughly 35 human years.

Orientation/Gender: Nonbinary lesbian (they/he/xe)

Personality: Disorganised, Dignified, Affectionate

[codenamehazard]

.:Explanations and Shark Teeth:.

Chapter 12: Explanations and Shark Teeth

Hey guys! I hope it hasn't been too long since I last posted a chapter. Sometimes the brain doesn't want to brain and with my brain, if you try to force it, things come out a mess.

Hope you guys like this chapter! Let's jump in!

--------

I groan as I wake up from a nap. The trip back to the HEMTT was uneventful to say the least. Definitely not as awkward as the trip to the mine, but there was a lot of tension between Kestrel and Pangolin. It was clear that the bird was still rattled from being ripped a new one last night, but the thing I noticed more was the fact that she didn’t seem as bothered by my presence as she was before. Well, at least she wasn’t trying to meld with the side of the jeep just to be as far away from me as possible. So that was refreshing. I was even able to ask Kestrel if I could have the Blast Core for safe keeping. She was hesitant at first, but by showing her that no, the Blast Core won’t disappear as soon as I touch it, she gave it to me. Begrudgingly so, but she did it. 

The trip had actually lulled me into a catnap, it was that uneventful. a welcomed surprise as my sleep was fitful last night. Nightmares are a fucking bitch and I about punched Pangolin in the face when he woke me up to get moving.

When the jeep parks next to the HEMTT, one of the trailers opens up and out pours Mako and Dove as we exit the vehicle. I stretch my limbs as I watch Mako walk up to Kestrel with annoyed look on her face, giving her a good “twack” upside the head, then a hug and a good scolding for making her worry. Dove jumps onto Pangolin and the two have a playful brotherly tussle to welcome him back. After Mako finishes giving the girl an earful, she turns to me and gives me a light greeting.

I nod back at her, but I couldn’t help but to feel a small pang of jealousy prick my heart. Seeing how Mako worries about Kestrel and gives her a hard time, how Dove and Pangolin act like brothers… Memories of how Zeke and I used to give each-other hard times and rough-housing with my own brother flicker into the mindscape.I shake my head to clear it, the past is dead and gone. Nothing can be done to change that. No point in dwelling.

Still hurts like a bitch though.

With the warm and fuzzies all done and over with, I watch Kestrel dash off as her signature plume of shimmering smoke into Droptown. Most likely to finish her project. Fine by me, the sooner she gets her pet project done, the sooner she can get to work on my shotgun.

Dove leaps off and climbs up top of the HEMTT before going airborne. Fucking flyer. Pangolin walks over to Mako and starts talking to her. From the expressions and the facepalming coming from the Calcium Conduit, I can only assume he’s talking about what happened back at the mine and at the camp. Great, I thought we were burying this hatchet, but apparently I was wrong. Or is it a “rules for thee and not for me” situation? I’m about to go up and confront Pangolin, but the Spartan heads off to unpack the jeep before I could get to him.

Mako walks over to me and I give her a nod. We get to small talking a little bit before Mako looks at me, noticing my annoyed look.

“I would normally ask how did the mission go, but from what Pangolin has told me and the sour look on your face, I take it that it didn’t go well?” She asks and I give her a look that screams “Gee, what gave you that idea?” before stretching and venting sparks idly.

“Understatement.” I say flatly, the shark rubs her temples and mumbles something under her breath before straightening up.

“Love the girl like a sister, but sometimes she needs a proper kick in the head for things to get through that metallic skull of hers.” I can’t help but to snicker slightly at her snark before my expression returns to the annoyed look. “No worries, I’ll go have another “chat” with her.” She states before she turns. I shake my head. I’m not done talking to her. She still owes me some explanations.

“Woah, woah, woah.” I start, getting Mako’s attention. “Before you go running off to give the bird an earful. I need to talk to you about a pressing matter.” The shark-woman turns her head to look at me and tilts it.

“Sure.” She responds. “Is something wrong?” Her face looks concerned. Not surprising, seeing as the only time I really took someone aside back when I led was because someone fucked up and I was going to read them the riot act. I still might do just that, but for right now, a sternly worded conversation will do.

“There have been a couple of questions that’s been irking me over the past few days.” I begin with a firm tone, crossing my arms. “You haven’t been upfront about a few important details.”

“It’s about Kes and the Warped, isn’t it?” Mako murmurs. She still catches on quick, good. It’s reassuring to see that she still remembers how things went.

“Yeah.” I simply confirm. “Kestrel and the Warped.”

“I figured you’d be asking about it sooner or later, you were never one to let a discrepancy go. I’ve talked to Pangolin about how I was going to explain this.” She says as she rubs the back of her head.

“Better start talking.” I warn. “Give it to me straight. I wanna know why you weren’t up front about Kestrel being the Gunsmith you were talking about and that “tip of the iceberg” thing included literal zombies.” I see Mako sigh while popping her neck.

“Okay… To the Kestrel issue- I knew as soon as you started describing who stole your Blast Shards that there was something familiar about it, but I wasn’t 100% sure. In a wild wasteland like this, there are plenty of Conduits with similar abilities with spirit looking masks. Kestrel wasn’t exactly forthcoming about who she stole from either. Explaining that she went up against a “strong electric conduit with really cool black lightning.” Electric conduits are far from uncommon around here and I’ve never seen anyone use black lightning until recently, so I wasn’t sure who she was talking about and I didn’t want to give incorrect information.. Especially with how excited you were about the guns.” I listen to Mako explain, narrowing my eyes a bit. She knows my powers, why shouldn’t she suspect that the bird stole from me? 

Still, I’ve seen quite a few electrokinetic Conduits running around the Wildlands and Mako has never seen me with the black and red bolts before, only the red and oranges... Not to mention she wouldn’t have known where the hell I went after she split as we were half-way through Texas by that time. With half baked details from the bird and vague details from me, there’s a lot up in the air. So I can’t really fault her for the caution… A heads up still would have been nice though.

“And the zombies?” I question.

“Look.” She starts. “I’m aware we’ve seen a lot of shit. New Marias with the swamp things and the icemen, along with other such fuckery, but be honest with me. Would you have believed me if I told you that there are Rayacite hungry zombies running amok and eating any RFE source they can find, raw ore and Conduit alike?” I rub my chin in thought, it’s the same argument that Kestrel used. Then again, she is right. Even though I respect her and trust her the most out of everyone in the Misfits, the thought of zombies in general, let alone zombies that could overpower a Conduit? That is the stretch of the imagination. Not impossible, I guess, but still a very unlikely thing.

“I know I should have just told you. Would have saved everyone a lot of grief, especially with this recent debacle, but sometimes the knowledge that you might not be believed is paralyzing.” Another good point, one that resonates more than I’d like. I remember the pain of having to bottle information inside after the revelation of Kessler. Hell, it took a violent outburst at Zeke for me to spill to him and even then I could feel the fear grip my heart. Thinking he wouldn’t believe me. Why would he? I hated his guts, I made Empire City my personal playground, I showed no mercy. Why would he think I was anything but stark raving mad? The whole thing was insane! So I couldn’t really blame the shark for keeping quiet about it.

Whatever, what’s done is done.

“Seems like there’s been a lot of vagueness going around.” I state, my eyebrows furrowing. “Frankly I’m getting a little sick of it. Can we agree to cut the crap and explain everything in full so we can avoid situations like this going forward?” She nods her head in agreement.

“Right… I’m sorry for not being clear.” She pops her knuckles nervously. I nod my head at her. Normally I would pat the shoulder to show no hard feelings, but I remember that Mako doesn’t like to be touched without permission, so I keep my hands to myself.

“No worries Mako, hopefully with the elephant addressed, things can go a little more smoothly now.” I pull out the Blast Core from my backpack and give it to her. “Hey, can you hold on to this for me? I don’t want the bird messing with it until it’s time.” Mako nods her head and puts it in her backpack.

“No problem. Seeing as how Kes screwed the pooch back in the mines, I would be surprised if you let her keep the core.” She states and I nod. “I’ll go help Pangolin out with checking supplies since we’re going to be hanging around Droptown for a while, might as well do some extra restocking.”

“Not a bad idea. I’ll probably be exploring.” I hum as I relax. We both nod our heads before heading our separate ways, her to the HEMTT and me into the conclave.

I hop onto a nearby wire and zip off. Black and crimson sparks arcing in my wake as I revel in the feeling of the wind on my skin. Now with two less questions to worry about, I can think a little more clearly. There were still so many questions, but I get the feeling that I’ll find the answers soon enough.

As I blitz around, a thought comes to my mind. Maybe I could pay the little birdie a visit and see how the guns are made? Yeah… That sounds like a good idea. I shift directions and zip off to the Forge to pay Kestrel a visit. If she wanted alone time? Tough titties. I wanted to see what makes her work so special with my own two eyes.

[pacifymebby]

Something I love about Ben Howards music is that with every new album we hear another little story, a kind of diary entry updating us on the life of a mystery woman who lingers in his life like a shadow (but a good warm kind of shadow)

Like she's vague on Every Kingdom but shes there "with me always around me," shes ever present through the very fact that she appears to have been and gone, to be missing and lost somehow always just out of reach but never given up on completely, all the songs kind of hint to her lack, "Gracious goes the ghost of you..." "a ghost, a shadow at the most" "I'll grow weary, happy still with just the memory of your face"

And then on I Forget Where We Were shes so clear and its almost like he's given me a memory because I can see her there when he says "And as per usual, you were skipping and laughing, eyes at the bedroom door "Don't take it so seriously, no, only time is ours, the rest we'll just wait and see!" like he says he can't remember where they were, can't remember what they were talking about but I can, I can picture it all so vividly and shes so clear, this faceless girl laughing at the news, when he says, "Oh hey, I wasn't listening, I was watching Syria, Blinded by the sunshine strip. You, you were in the kitchen, Oh, your mariner's mouth, The wounded with the wounder's whip, And that's how summer passed away, The great dividing range, the green, green grass"

Shes so clear!!!

And then she just keeps getting clearer, always faceless but so real, dancing like a shadow through his memory

"Door is locked, My gums are bleeding, Outside she reads, Outside she's reading, The evacuation procedure out loud"

Theyre not particularly detailed lyrics but I think its the details he chooses to include, theyre so specific, so vivid you can't help but see the whole picture despite the lack?

"Should have known better, you were talking to the spirit kingdom, Fox, Hare, Kestrel skull, The movement large, the weather dull, Pick again until the cards can form our meaning..."

Like, with every album we see her in the middle of a mundane scene, shes giggling at the news, shes reading an evacuation procedure, shes reading tarot cards shes going "Down to the courtyard slinging, Last year's Sundays in the river of time..." "Down to the citadel Sunday, Red church bells and the moon on the rise"

"Out of town for the afternoon, highline flier blue air, you climb down to my station, "you should see the view up there." I'm trying."

Idk theyre all like little watercolour paintings, little impressionist flahses and flickers. None of them are full images but theyre so vibrant and intimate and I feel like I know that woman so well but really all I know is that she laughs at the news.

[practically-an-x-man]

OC ask time!! I just woke up and I always ask the best questions when I just wake up.

Your characters are at a fancy formal event, wearing whatever they consider to be appropriate formal wear. They arrive, and are informed everyone needs names tags, but instead of name tags, everyone must pick a sticker to represent them. There's a bucket of stickers that looks like someone tore through Wish.com and orders every pack they could find.

What stickers do each of them pick?

Ooooh, fascinating! Let's see...

So I'm not going to try and find pictures of actual existing stickers since I don't want to miscredit anyone's designs, so I'll just stick with describing my own ideas

Rae: Finds a sticker that looks like Medusa, slaps it on top of a sticker that looks like a stereotypical Viking shield.... boom. Aegis. Or close enough.

Robin: Is looking for anything music-related, but finds a sticker of a volume button labeled "You're on Mute" and has to go with that one instead.

Madison: Manages to dig out a Rainbow Fish sticker from somewhere at the bottom of the stack, and decides it's good enough

Ophelia: Anything octopus-related, of course!

Jasper: Finds a sticker of an anatomical heart with a bloodied arrow through it, with the words "The closest way to a man's heart..."

Katherine: Anything art-related - a paintbrush, a palette, a rendition of a famous painting like Starry Night, anything like that.

Kestrel: Any kind of bird. Obviously a kestrel would be best, since it's their whole theme, but they'll take anything. They also briefly found a sticker of Morph from Treasure Planet, but dropped it because they haven't actually watched Treasure Planet

Quinn: Finds a sticker that looks like a TV set filled with static, pulls out a Sharpie from somewhere, and scrawls out her name amid the static like it's a normal nametag.

Eris: A sticker of the goose from the Untitled Goose Game with a knife in its beak

Nikoletta: Tries to find a sticker that looks like a skull, or maybe a NOLA fleur-de-lis... ends up finding one that looks like a slice of pie instead. It's more of an in-joke with Abner, but she'll take it