#one foot in a fairytale & the other in the abyss ( my art. )

[lighthouseborn]

𝓜𝓮𝓻-𝓶𝓪𝔂 5/31 • catch of the day

[strywoven-moved]

@crystalcracked asked : ❛ at every moment of our lives, we all have one foot in a fairytale and the other in the abyss. ❜ // olenor to dyn?

𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

“I am … Working …”  Comes the grunt from the forger , painted face turning just enough to send his lover superior a narrow-eyed l e e r , where within all-dark hues burns less a resentment for the able disturbance to his craft and more a softened ire ( how can he be dismissive of the other ? they both know that he would listen to olenor for the rest of time , work be-damned ) .  Looking forward again , skillful paws continue once finding a momentary relish of q u i e t ; the table is given a calculated TURN ( first the outer rim , then the inner circumference ) , bringing the runes and materials into c a r e f u l , and particular alignment.  

“Your words resonate with me …”  Voice comes disjointed , interjected by the ( last ) Dustling’s CONSTANT MOTION ( a meticulous machine , he seems , he could very well not even watch his paws & still transmute something from the very depths of his mind's-eye ) .  ��... For a fact , I fear , I know well …”  He pauses again , reaching to take up his hammer , letting the handle weigh easily into his hardened palms ; a whisper pressed into the engraved head , eliciting a quiet t r i l l of the alloy and stones.  As if watching art in motion , Dyn’lo reels back ( an oddly graceful curve & crest , the tool arching overhead , gathering energy ) and performs a deliberate downward swing , striking with such f o r c e the magic exhumes from him in some GREAT EXHALATION — frothing forward in trembling bellows and crackling warbles that splinter away from the forger in palpable current , in a shrapnel flurry of sparks ( some of which near-harmlessly find themselves caught on olenor’s attire , skittering ‘cross him as a testament to his subordinate’s unwavering strength ) .  “... What you mean.”  Dyn’lo finishes , laying his tool to rest once more and turning his chair to face Olenor awaiting , observing nearby.

“For some while , I have felt an entire disconnect from the rest of the world since my first passing.”  First passing ... He means to say when he first stood 'pon the threshold ; when Death itself told him its secrets and pushed him back into the living world. Claws enfold together , perhaps to stop their mindless futzing about ( after all , he feels a need to move , to always be moving lest he be felled by the raving mind ) .  Head tips , momentarily looking down to his lap , then to his loyal hammer.  Then finally he looks up again to Olenor.  “As much as I have felt the same way in part due to the visions I have told you about.”  Furless brow creases , a frown pulls his maw.  “... But none of that is a fairytale.  What I - we - saw … Is very much r e a l !”  He stops , reconsiders the words , begins again , “I a g r e e with you , Master Olenor,” Dyn’lo admits , “I do not find what you say to be entirely incorrect.  Not for me , for you , for any of us , truthfully.”  Body leans forward , eyes narrowing some , voice lowering to a growling octave , “But which for you is the fairytale and which is the abyss ?”  Those obsidian eyes GLEAM with the intensity they take when studying a new material ; the URGE to pick something apart , to SCRY for answers.  “Life … Or Death ?  War … Or Peace ?”

[docholligay]

Doctor Holligay’s Birthday Contest

HELLO FOR MY BIRTHDAY I WOULD LOVE BLORBO, FROM MY SHOWS. 

So I’m getting old, and I know nothing comes without a price, so I would love to offer you some fine prizes as a bounty for Preferred Content. I think I found a way I like that rewards both effort and aim! I really appreciate everyone who tries, and I wanted to reflect that. 

Every entry gets an...entry. So if you put in what I consider a good faith entry, you’ll get a ticket to the draw.

The first drawing is made up solely of the first and second place winners from these categories.

3/24 winners, that means if you’re in that drawing there’s a 12.5% chance you’ll win.

Those three winners get to pick their prize, and then we’ll do the second drawing.

The second drawing is all entries, 3/however many entries.

There is only one of each of these prizes available! 

Prizes

$50 penzey’s giftcard

Book review (October) 

Movie review (September) 

Liveblog slot (October)

$50 giftcard to my sister’s custom clothing work (should be able to get you a custom shirt or skirt, depending on what fabric you pick and your measurements)

Holligay custom videochat/document/whatever for a specific problem/need. So let’s say, “Hi I’m trying to gather a ore intentional wardrobe” or “I want to host the most fucking BANGER thanksgiving this year” etc. So you’ll send me your ~wish~ I’ll send follow up questions, and we’ll get together for a session where I show and explain stuff and at the end of it you’ll get a document with the notes and such. This is something I’m piloting! I know it feels vague and weird! It is for me too.

To enter, you’ll need to submit to @holligaysduderanch The entry needs to include which category you are entering for, other than People’s Choice, since all entries are included in that. I will publish them there WITHOUT commentary so as not to tip my hand. But I really very much encourage you to follow the blog and comment on each other’s work because reason trust me you will want to comment on other’s work. 

You can enter for every category, but only once for each, and each unique submission is a new entry for the draw, so you can be in the draw like…10 times, if you’re annoyingly talented ahaha. 

Submissions must be received by August 21st, which you’ll notice is a full week after my birthday because I’m great.

ANYWAY CATEGORIES AND PROMPTS ARE BELOW

Categories:

OW--Humorous and/or Fluff (Writing)

OW--Humorous and/or Fluff  (Art)

OW--Serious and/or Angst (Writing)

OW--Serious and/or Angst (Art)

SM -- Humorous and/or Fluff (Writing)

SM-- Humorous and/or Fluff  (Art)

SM -- Serious and/or Angst (Writing)

SM -- Serious and/or Angst (Art)

Listen, You’re Gonna Love This (Writing) -- What this is, is a prompt NOT included below, a vibe, a whatever. It’s not there. But you know, YOU KNOW, I’ll fucking love this idea. Any fandom, or even original.

Listen, You’re Gonna Love This (Art)

*People’s Choice* (Writing)

*People’s Choice* (Art)

Prompts:

Ghost Hunting

The Persistence of Memory

The Dead Cannot Repay Your Kindness

Something Old, Something New

Magic For Liars

Describe The Perfect Date

Rainy Days

Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story. -Richard Siken

“Have fun being dead.” “I will.” 

Summer and Smoke

Thunderstorm

Kissing scars

Drunk

“Didn’t we establish that this wasn’t your fault and that there was nothing else you could have done?

Motherhood’s made you soft. 

In dreams

“One foot in a fairytale and one in the abyss--Paulo Coelho

Shitty chain restaurant

“She had a list of things she needed to do. The first thing was always ‘Confess’ “

Spitting blood

Wedding day

“The people you love become ghosts inside of you”–Robert Montgomery

[lighthouseborn]

🎨. I would legitimately cry. Your art work is so beautiful.

If you send a 🎨 you might maybe get a doodle of ur character. (depending on how long my motivation holds out)

bonus transparent version. just for fun.

[lighthouseborn]

𝓜𝓮𝓻-𝓶𝓪𝔂 4/31 • new friends

[lighthouseborn]

𝓜𝓮𝓻-𝓶𝓪𝔂 3/31 • tropical shallows

[lighthouseborn]

𝓜𝓮𝓻-𝓶𝓪𝔂 1/31 • koi inspired

[lighthouseborn]

DETAIL DIVE: Henry's Scar & Necklace(s)

Henry's (Face) Scar

Result of a modified canon event. While possessed by the bloodthirsty Armando Salazar, Henry was forced to cross blades with Jack, and either of them went away from this encounter uninjured. Jack took a nasty cut to the collar, while Henry caught a experimental swipe across the face. By rights, it should not have been so awful. A cut, clean and simple, from a sharp edge. There wasn't even any real reason for it to scar. Except that possession is not a simple thing, and the edges of what was Henry and what was Salazar had been blurred. The cut spread after it landed, splintering out in a mimic of the ghost's decay that remained even after the Trident's power purged Salazar from Henry's body.

It’s not abundantly pronounced -it healed very nicely, in fact, after a little bit of initial drama (that might have had more to do with Henry running himself ragged than the cut itself, but I digress.) At a distance or a glance, only the blade mark is really visible, and even that may not draw that much attention. A much closer inspection will show what's left of the splinters, which healed in delicate, cobweb-like lines over his cheekbone and back toward his jaw. At any given moment, Henry is far more likely to be conscious of the full breadth of the scar than someone who is looking at it. The edges are really quite faint to the eye, but there is a part of Henry that still very much feels all that it was and continues to be to him.

For several years after the fact, he struggles to reconcile with bearing it — it doesn't feel like a part of himself, he didn't choose the actions that led to it or gain anything worth having in the course of it. It is born of what was, unquestionably, the worst experience of his life. It's not so fun to have a permanent reminder. Later in life it haunts him less (the only face his children know is the one with the scar: it being there is an inherent part of their definition of dad. That helps. A lot.) but it takes time and growth to get there.

Henry's Necklace

For several key years of his life, Henry defined himself by the necklace his father passed to him, and the vow it came to represent. So much so that when he completed the vow, achieved his goal, and returned the talisman to his father, he began to feel somewhat... off-balance. Truly it was about many more things than just a piece of jewelry, but nevertheless it became the sticking point. Henry became hyper-aware of its absence, and coming up empty handed when he reached for it tended to send his thoughts on a steep spiral, sometimes even causing panic. All through this, he maintained that he did not want to have the necklace back: the chapter was done, and it had never been his necklace anyhow. He was determined to simply power through. Luckily, his loved ones are well versed in his brand of stubborn, and the answer came along after a few weeks.

A sea-heart; draped around his neck by Hetty, his oldest friend and closest confidant. She noticed right away that there was a part of Henry that missed the familiarity of his father’s necklace, and after he told her of his lingering fears and worries, the reasons why seemed perfectly clear to her. Thusly —and though he had not, truly, asked for her assistance— she devised her plan to help. Mere weeks after Henry’s reunion with his family, Hetty presented him with a fine leather cord, on which hung this etched sea heart charm.         Sea hearts (also called sea beans) are the seeds of the entada gigas plant. These seeds are carried by the ocean as part of the plant’s natural cycle, and typically wash up on beaches in and around the Caribbean. In Jamaican traditions they are considered good luck charms. It's said that these buoyant little seeds cross over entire seas unharmed, too strong but light to drown, and they likewise protect their owner from drowning and keep them in good health as they travel. The symbol etched into Henry’s is a Celtic shield knot: a ward against evil spirits primarily, though the protection is thought to extend to physical well-being too. Hetty’s mother helped polish and strengthen the sea heart, turning it into a sturdy pendant, and Hetty’s father provided guidance and assisted with the carving of the symbol. It is, ultimately, a token from the whole family, their blended good will for Henry encompassed in a token they all believe will help to keep him whole and well.

The whole thing got Henry thinking. Over the course of his life, he's been presented with a curious number of charms and talismans meant to provide protection and/or luck. Another person might think to be insulting (just how reckless do people think he is?) but Henry sees only fondness and well-wishes. And, in that moment, he saw something falling neatly together.

A hag stone; pressed insistently into his palm by Thyra, a woman from the small town of the lighthouse island, the very day he returned home. She is regarded as the town’s healer and respected as a wise-woman; her husband is a farmer and likewise a pillar of the small community. She acted as midwife when Henry was born, and has ever after kept as much of an eye on him as she has the whole little village. As she puts it: she saw him here and has no wish to see him off.         Also called a mare stones or witch stones, hag stones are formed on pebbled beaches by nothing more than water and time. There are many legends and beliefs associated with hag stones, most commonly that looking through them will reveal various unseen things, fae or witches or spells, and that they offer the wearer one protection or another from these forces. This stone in particular was used by its previous owner in aid of spirit work and minor ailment healing. When she bestowed it to Henry’s care, she told him it was because of its ability to protect his sleep. She explained that nightmares attract the attention of evil forces, demons & their ilk, to the then-vulnerable souls of those who have them, and that while the stone would not prevent the unpleasant dreams, it would guard him against the dark things that seek to take advantage of them. If ever the stone splits in two, Henry is under instruction to return the broken pieces to the sea, and to seek Thyra out so that she can check on his spirit and replace the charm. A split of that nature supposedly means it prevented him being killed or otherwise claimed by the Mara, a powerful nightmare demon. To date Henry’s unsure how Thyra even knew he was having nightmares. Nevertheless, he wears the stone (and double checks for it before he goes to sleep.)

A silver skull ring; handed to him by Captain Teague shortly before Henry sailed out on his quest for the Trident of Poseidon. Teague was the only one to know Henry was leaving before he disappeared on this venture. Perhaps owed to his many years watching over Henry, or his many more years watching over the Cove, keeping its code and secrets, spotting trouble before it boiled over. Whatever the case he saw the boy off with this grim grinning token and reminder to keep his wits and fists raised (or, if not both, then one or the other.)        Something of a legend among those who have set foot inside the Brethren Court's hall, the ring is said to have been powerfully spelled for the protection of the wearer by a voodoo priestess, though which priestess and by which spell and to what effect exactly, Henry cannot say. (That's the trouble with whispers, isn't it?) He has guessed, by the shape of it, it is meant to prevent the death of the wearer — though it could just as likely be that the design is purely ornamental. Originally, by combination of the fact that Henry does not like to wear rings and that this one does not fit him in the slightest, Henry kept the silver skull tucked into his pockets or looped onto the old necklace, though it never seemed to quite fit there. After being gifted his new necklace, Henry was quick to slide the ring into what felt like its rightful place.

A poesy ring; paired with a kiss on the cheek from a highborn paramour (whose name he is very careful about not disclosing) some time after he aided her escape from an arranged and miserable marriage.         More of a token than a charm, posey (also spelled posy, posie) rings were given as gifts between both friends and lovers to represent the givers affection for the wearer. It has been said, too, that the golden ring serves as protection, as it represents or holds a prayer for safe travel. There is a small inscription of verse on the inside of Henry’s, oft hidden from view, and the relief around the outside of the band displays a winding bunch of forget-me-not flowers. Despite his dislike of wearing rings as intended, Henry did in fact briefly carry this token on the pointer finger of his left hand (the place he thought it least likely to impede him or vanish without his notice.) These days he wears it on a golden chain.

A shell-shaped locket; gifted to him on a birthday by childhood friend Allie for no other reason than she hoped to make him smile.         The little golden locket is filled not by a portrait but by a thimble-measure of sand from the beaches of the lighthouse island. It is not so much a lucky charm, having no spells or prayers upon it as far as he is aware, but it is, undoubtedly, an embodied sentiment of great care and affection. A wish that he be content. A hope that he can carry good things, happy memories, with him wherever it is he roams. He has found that it makes for a very good grounding item, something to hold in hand which reminds him of his home (and of the island he was born on, too.) He wears this one on the golden chain as well.

A jade pendant; passed to a young Henry for luck by Yijun, a young born-pirate sailor whom Henry met as a small boy and saw often when he was in Singapore with his mother. Henry wore it every day until, less than a year later, the ship Yijun was sailing on went down and he was presumed dead. He was only seventeen years old. Henry (who was thirteen) looked up to him greatly, and misses him still.         Considered the stone that represents the heart and “the jewel of Heaven” in Chinese folklore, jade is said to bring prosperity, wisdom, courage, and equity, as well as encouraging groundedness and -as this pendant is green jade, the color associated with the dead- spiritual wellness, protecting the bonds of the living to their ancestors. The ring shape is meant to work as a ward: only good things may pass through the circle, while bad things become trapped in the center and purified so that they can no longer cause harm. For many years after Yijun’s disappearance, the pendant resided in Henry’s attic bedroom at the lighthouse, tucked into a hiding place of the utmost secrecy. Partly, he was afraid to lose it. Largely, it made him sad to hold it. Though Henry never once forgot the charm, his memory of it was brought to the front of his mind by Hetty’s similar gesture, and Henry added it to his new necklace. It seemed a fitting place to carry it, since he is willing to again.

A carved bone turtle; offered to him by imperial pirate lord Mistress Ching mere days before she announced she intended to pass her lordship on so that she could enter into a life of leisure in her final years. Seemingly, the act was spurred by nothing else than the fact that he asked her about it, after he’d seen her rubbing its shell in thought.         One of the four gods of Chinese folklore associated with the cardinal directions, the turtle(/tortoise) is associated with the northern point of a compass and considered a shaper and protector of the physical world. Associated with knowledge, perseverance, prosperity, and long life, the carving is meant to draw those things as well as encourage the wearer to keep these traits in their conscious mind when they are making decisions. A mixture, then, of good luck charm and reminder to utilize ones’ wits. When Henry asked what sort of bone it was carved from, Mistress Ching’s only answer was to smile quite widely and pat him on the cheek. Henry rediscovered the bone turtle there when he retrieved the jade pendant, having tucked it away in the same hiding space some years prior. Unlike the jade, Henry had quite forgotten it. After some deliberation, he decided that having something lucky and long-living resting over his heart to remind him to think wasn’t such a bad idea.

A polished stone crab claw; a strange little charm Henry knows very little about at all, as it seemed to simply appear, carried to him in the surf of an incoming tide. Given all he has been through, and that a stone colored crab is one of Calypso's known forms & associated symbols, he thought it best to take it as a gift. (Or at the very least to take it. Shunning a sea goddess when your livelihood and -arguably- life itself rests with her would be plain stupidity.) Its unclear if the charm is carved from some type of grayish rock, or a fossil of the genuine thing. The surface is sooth, polished to an almost glassy shine. Henry had a metal loop affixed to the top so that it could be worn. Curiously, it always seems to be slightly cool to the touch.

Additionally, while we're talking about grounding luck charms, Henry also wears a nazar bracelet, tied ‘round his wrist by fellow sailor Bashir on their parting after they spent several months as shipmates… and a bit more. Mutually understood and agreed to be more of a fling than anything else, they parted on perfectly amicable terms and in fact maintain a considerable amount of affection for each other. Their lives, though, continue to move in directions that seem opposed to each other.          The nazar is an eye-shaped amulet worn to protect a person from ‘the evil eye’, a malevolent or envious gaze from another person that can (sometimes intentionally and sometimes unintentionally) inflict harm or a curse of bad luck on the subject. The charm is made of glass in the traditional shade of blue, and the band it is attached to was woven by Bashir himself during the voyage. He bestowed the bracelet with a quiet prayer. The next morning saw him on another ship, off into some flight of search that continues even now. While Henry always errs on the side of believing in magic and spiritual currents, the truth of this particular charm resides far more in the sentimental than protective value of it. He has worn in consistently since it was given to him and doesn’t plan to stop.

[lighthouseborn]

Gentle Touches || @dolhood ( Carina )

✿ : trailing soft kisses down their arm (to reach his hand )

  The first kiss lands on the height of Henry's shoulder, surprising a light hum out of him. The wooden frame of the bed squawks quietly, joints shifting as Carina sits on the mattress next to him. They've rented a room with view of the quay. The wind and the water are free, then, to keep calling, but for now the ground and the room and all are refreshingly sill and solid and spacious and solitary. With walls and a door and everything between them and the rest of the world.

  The second kiss surprises him, too. Appearing against expectations, and, even further unexpected, it is further down, pressed against the top of his arm. She says nothing, and he wonders if she's trying to test his commitment to sitting there. Eyes closed, propped up on one lumpy little pillow, head leaning against the wall. Tired, but waiting. He hadn't wanted to settle in or douse the lamps before she was beside him. Now he was simply curious of her aims.

  She pulls his arm to her, and the third kiss goes again a little lower, and this time shifts in toward him. The time between them is narrowing, and he thinks the first may have been an impulse, but now she has a plan. When she begins to mess with his sleeve, rolling it up a little higher, he's certain of this.

  The next kiss she places into the cradle of his elbow is the first to find his skin. It's a curious place for a kiss. All he can seem to think is that she would not have dared while they were on the ship. The crew had grown accustomed to their nearness (and squabbling) and if anyone had thoughts about the propriety or suitability, they kept it wisely to their own counsel. But that did not change the fact that hammocks strung across the covered decks and even passenger bunks were not especially private places. She had kissed him before, in both of these places, but had never lowered her guard.

  The fifth kiss goes to the scar on the inside of his forearm. He cannot remember what put it there. He must have deemed it unimportant, at some point. Either the very day he earned the cut or else when it had ceased paining him. The way she brushes her thumb over it after the kiss makes him reconsider the decision.

  Next, one to the middle of his forearm, then the forward fourth, then, warm and lingering, over the pulse in his wrist. He decides she is making a map. Equal turn for the way his idle hands always find a way to be with her; laced in hers, or resting on her back. Tracing aimless circles on her thigh. It seems, also, the whole thing has been her way to move his arm around and tuck herself behind his shoulder, drawing him toward her to that their heads lean together. He has no complaints.

  She kisses the middle of his palm. Like with his elbow, it strikes him as curiously tender — that quiet gentleness she does not speak of and keeps well hidden unless they are alone.

  They sit that way for awhile, shifting only lightly, so his hand is more against her cheek than her lips. Henry hums the melody of a song he can't quite remember the words to, and traces those little circles on her temple. The wind and waves accompany him. Carina keeps his arm like a prize she's caught.

  Privately, Henry hopes she decides to never let it go.

[lighthouseborn]

𝓜𝓮𝓻-𝓶𝓪𝔂 12/31 • water babies

[lighthouseborn]

𝓜𝓮𝓻-𝓶𝓪𝔂 9/31 • sweep

[lighthouseborn]

𝓜𝓮𝓻-𝓶𝓪𝔂 7/31 • a little trade (and a little showing off)

[lighthouseborn]

𝓜𝓮𝓻-𝓶𝓪𝔂 6/31 • a flicker in the deep

[lighthouseborn]

hello this is still a wip and naturally as soon as i saved progress and closed it i saw a couple of major flaws so don't squint but. feelin some kinda way

[lighthouseborn]

[lighthouseborn]

frankly this was really funny of me btw