#ooc: also going back to being simple and less descriptive writing for this one XD

[bm96ocs-askhub]

BM: Hmm? Oh, there you are! I was looking for you, you know?

Hugo: Really? I see... Is it because you are afraid to go alone in zhis new place zhat you never been to before and worry zhat you might get lost, so you vant me to accompany you?

BM: N-no! ...Yes, I am. Why do you always figured me out??!

Hugo: You're just quite easy to read, and zhat I have taken care of you for years. That's all. :)

[shadowdianne]

The mysterious grey blob returns with yet another prompt. Should you choose to accept this challenge, it must be completed AFTER A GOOD NIGHT'S REST. Ahem. Five words: Narcissa teaches Hermione about art. Go nuts-- provided you have slept.

Hello blob. (Tagging your creator since tumblr is not the best at letting people know their ask has been answered: @naralanis) I truly hope you like this approach xD

Also: A03 version

-The description of the National gallery is amix of what I remember from the time I visited London and the few pictures andvids I’ve been able to find. Probably not perfect and one part of my fic writerpersona is crying at but I implore clemency on that.

Also, insert here the usual disclaimer of I’mstill learning to navigate through these characters so apologies for anyOOCness.

PS: Slight mention to another one shot I wrote titled“Halt”. Which, as a jibe to our tumblr situation of not being able to writeyou-know-what I will merely describe it as lemon.

On with the story, shall we?

The museumwas about to close, the echoes of quiet steps from the few people still walkingthrough the maze of mixed big chambers and quiet corners a barely-there soundthat Hermione didn’t truly pay attention at as she walked briskly to one of thesmaller rooms; the lavender hue in where the walls were painted framing thepaintings she passed by a blurr, the golden frames that supported each portraita glimmer as she craned her neck; trying to find the blonde witch she had regrettablyleft behind a few minutes ago.

She foundher staring at one small portrait, back facing her and hands grasping the longsleeves of the blouse she wore; perhaps just slightly closer to the wizardingworld’s fashion than the muggle one but simple enough to not truly stand out inthe middle of the Gallery. Smiling despise the slight soreness on her calvesafter wandering for so long inside the museum, the brunette witch approachedthe older woman, tilting her head just enough so she could get a glimpse ofNarcissa’s profile; on the easy, yet small and soft, smile that curved herlips. Lips the brunette looked at for what felt the hundredth time ever sincethe woman had apparated inside her home a few hours ago; the shade of faded byobvious red the only thing she could truly focus on.

UntilNarcissa rose the blonde brow she was able to see from her position and turnedtowards her, soft smile turning into an almost teasing one.

“Boredalready?” The question held the same mirth-laced tone her expression conveyed,and Hermione found herself blushing just slightly, the heat on her cheeksrising and then fading as she swallowed, shrugging noncommittally as sheapproached the older witch with less brusque steps.

“I’m notbored.” She protested, but it was a feeble try and both of them knew. It wastruly no secret that art, any form of it, wasn’t exactly something she admired.Not in the same capacity Narcissa obviously did. “I just didn’t think you wouldfind muggle paintings so interesting.”

That, atleast, was partially true. When Narcissa had mentioned the idea of a date likethis Hermione had needed a few seconds to process. Not because she doubtedNarcissa’s capacity to enjoy muggle-made things (that much had been proved theday after her elevator had broken and she had carried her to every other placeshe had been to think off that the blonde witch would enjoy) but because shehad ingrained the notion that every portrait in the wizarding world moved quitedeeply. Watching immobile paintings didn’t seem like something Narcissa Blackwould enjoy.

She obviouslyneeded to re-check her facts because the blonde had been completely enamored byevery other painting they had come across, pointing details Hermione wasn’teven able to focus on before her own mind pushed her to move forwards.Something that, back when she had been a child, had elicited a sigh from herparents more times than she was able to remember as she memorized the shortlines beneath every other portrait before declaring she was already done.

And,despite the years passed, she seemed to still be holding on that habit as,after more than an hour of following Narcissa around she had found herselfwalking quicker between the rooms, paying attention to a few portraits here andthere, glancing at artists, dates and the sparse descriptions before moving tothe next one. Which had led her to finish way quicker than the woman she nowhad in front of her; almost immobile if it wasn’t because of the small knowingglint on her eyes, the trembling of her upper lip.

“But I do.”The older witch finally replied, raising her chin, pointing at the portrait shehad been staring at before Hermione had found her. At some place at their backthe brunette could hear the quiet whispers of a couple walking, probablytowards the same direction she had just come from: The Exit. “Painting… or anyother form of art really is just an interesting form of magic. Whether if thepaintings are imbued with hexes or not.” The addition to her first statement madeHermione blush again, forcing her eyes to focus past Narcissa and the blue andblack palette she had chosen for her clothes that day and gaze the painting onitself.

She wasable to recognize it, of course; the title coming to her just a second beforeher eyes -majorly because of simply muscle memory- fell to the small noteattached to it.

“TheArnolfini portrait.” Her mutter echoed between them, the quiet voices of thecouple lost in the maze once more as Narcissa nodded approvingly, the movementcausing Hermione to glance back at her; curious.

Of all theportraits the National Gallery had she would have never considered this one inparticular would catch the other witch’s attention. She could remember someone-her mother perhaps? - telling her about the complexity of the portrait, thedetails hidden to the naked eye, the use of lighting and colors. Still, thescene presented to the viewer wasn’t really all that majestic if someone wantedher opinion; two people, man and woman, looking directly to them, hands intertwined.

“Goodmemory.” Narcissa’s voice reached her from behind, the brunette realizing toolate that the blonde had approached her, standing closer than before, slightlyto her back. Her tone was but a whisper, the pitch soft and the words caressingher earlobe in the form of soft puffs of air. Despite her automatic try ofmasking her emotions on such a public place Hermione couldn’t help theautomatic pleasurable shiver that run down her spine; the praising getting thebest of her.

“Don’t dothat.” She replied, and she could hear the chuckle from the older woman beforea small nod close to her temple told her that Narcissa would stop the teasing;for now. Sighing, raising her shoulders a little with her eyes focusing oncemore in the portrait, Hermione read the date, the artist and the year theGallery had bought it, her voice sounding much more colder than intended.Wincing a little, not really knowing where to look, how to look, at the portraitthat had obviously entranced Narcissa, she glanced back to the older witch;completely at loss. “Van Eyck.” She repeated, the strong cluster of consonantssounding slightly off, as if her tongue wasn’t exactly rising in the right way,nor with enough force. “Didn’t he paint the Altarpiece? In Ghent?”

Chucklingbut with a warm glint on her blue eyes, Narcissa nodded. “He didn’t do italone.But yes.” She added, pressing her side against Hermione’s just enough forthe brunette to feel her warmth through their clothing. A little trick that itdidn’t matter how many times the blonde told her wasn’t produce of any hex orspell since she was convinced it must be an enchantment, a jinx, a curse even,of any kind. Taking a sharp gulp of air, feeling the scent of lilacs hangingaround the immediate proximity of Narcissa, Hermione tried to focus on theportrait alone, on the objects that cluttered the space behind the couple; themirror, the dog at their feet.

“I’m justnot very good at this.” She admitted, with a dejected sigh but her somberattitude was quickly fixed by the touch of Narcissa’s left hand on her hip,guiding her to the closest spot in front of the portrait without crossing thesmall line marked a few inches away from it.

“You arevery good at picking details.” The blonde said, still close enough for hervoice to caress Hermione’s neck as they both stood in front of the painting,the fact that they had minutes at best before they were asked to leave a fadingmemory in the younger witch’s mind.

“I preferthings that I can quantify.” The Gryffindor replied, and it was true of course;magical laws, arithmancy, transfiguration. All of those skills were easy forher to pick, to use, to understand. Two plus two would always equal four. Art,however, was different; more fleeting, less obvious, and while the brunettecould admit that the portrait felt life-like in a very different way magicportraits looked, she couldn’t truly understand the catch behind it, theimportance that the portrait had.

“Qui desponsari videbantur per fidem" The blonde’s voice sliced throughHermione’s musings and made her rise her brows, curious. Narcissa’s Latin was,obviously, flawless, but the brunette needed a few seconds to translate the phrase,Latin not being exactly something she used all that much if one didn’t countthe spells she used.

“Marryingaccording to the faith?” Her voice rose, not entirely sure if she had pickedthe subtleties of the language. The slight nod from Narcissa, one that made theblonde’s hair brush against her skin, made her hum, curious.

“There aretheories.” The blonde spoke, her hand still at Hermione’s waist, fingersdrawing circles as she spoke, lazy slow caresses that made the brunette biteher bottom lip. “That say that this portrait wasn’t only a portrait but amarrying contract.” Smile widening, Narcissa pointed at the portrait with herfree hand, her fingers at the level of the headdress of the painted woman. “However,a non-married woman -one that is about to be married- wouldn’t have had herhair like that; she would have it down.”

“Oh.”Despite her initial weariness, Hermione couldn’t help herself on feelinginterested by this sudden piece of information, her eyes focusing now on theposition of the hands, on the way the man looked directly at them while thewoman didn’t as much, on how everything was positioned, on the manner the otherhand of the woman had been painted. “So, they were already married when thishappened?”

A chuckleand Narcissa stepping away made her glance at her back, confused.

“That’s themystery.” The blonde replied, a wink on her azure eyes. “Shall we go? I had theimpression you were bored.”

Grumblinggood-naturedly but following the blonde nonetheless, Hermione casted one lastglance to the portrait they were leaving behind, a few pointed glares of someguards the walked past telling them they were cutting it close already.

“I guessart is not as boring as I thought.” She admitted once they finally reached themain hall, glancing at Narcissa as the blonde grazed the back of her hand,clasping it in a far too light touch, letting Hermione being the one whorotated the wrist, so they could intertwin their fingers together.

“I can always try to paint you. See if thatmakes it more interesting to you.” Narcissa’s salacious remark elicited yetanother blush in who knew how many minutes. One the brunette was quick to respondwith a light yet quick slap on the blonde’s forearm.

“I knew weshouldn’t have watched Titanic.”

Narcissarolled her eyes good-naturedly before grasping Hermione’s offending handbetween her own, a quick kiss on the brunette’s knuckles buying her time asthey, finally, walked outside the Gallery, the quickly losing light creatinglong shadows around them both as lamps blinked; pools of light deterring theblobs of black.

“I didn’tsay I planned on painting you naked.” The blonde’s chuckled, a little more airily.“But if that’s your wish…”

“Cissy!”

[mandakatt]

My OC’s.

So! Here’s my grouping of OC’s that I am currently active with. [I have many others that I haven’t put here such as Voltron, Star Wars, and Dragon age cause all those Rp’s are on hold. =p I refuse to grow up, what can I say?]

So! For some of these characters I have artwork, some I don’t so the ones that don’t their description will be much longer.  [All art is © their original creators! I’ll link them/tag them in the descriptions.]

Mandakatt  [Ref sheet art by: @sbneko​ ]  - My OC that I use in the Furry Fandom. Yes. I’m one of those kinda dudes. Heh, but not in the way that’s usually associated with the stereotypes of the fandom. I’ve been in this fandom since about 2002 I think, but I’m starting to kinda fade away from it. So, she’s changing into what you see for my avatar here on tumblr. [Art by: DamnEvilDog - I miss you bubba.] - Out of all my OC’s she’s the closest to me in personality, and such. So just a fancy version of yours truly. XD

Kai - [Art © @sbneko ] Mandakatt’s sister. I created her as a joke cause everyone kept calling Mandakatt a Koi-Cat. So, here you go. Kai is older, and more mature than her sister, however, she is a derp, and will at times, when she’s nervous, grab her flowly showa tail and nibble on it, claiming she is her own sushi. She’s like the mom side of my personality. 

Amari Mao - Shrine Maiden [ More Art! ]  [ Art by: @tomochii-chan​ and @mageheart​ ] From the SLBP Universe. - She came about from a story that I had started to write involving the Date Clan. I don’t know if this story will ever see the light of day because I feel that I’m way too OOC with the lords. Her personality is Bubbly, Outgoing and she’s typically full of smiles and curiosity about the world. She’s a wandering Miko, so she’ll do rituals for those that ask. She carries a simple wakizashi vertically on the small of her back, her skills with it are above average for those that are used to sword fighting, she’s an expert with a long bow.  The scar over her left eye that stops at her cheek came about when someone tried to rob her on the road, and they got too close - she’s not completely blind her her left eye, she can see movements and shapes, but nothing in full clarity.

Major - My Overwatch Reader insert character. -  You were adopted as a young child into a Japanese family that lived in America, keeping your birth last name. You know some respectful phrases in Japanese but cannot speak it fluently. You reached the rank of Major [O-4] as a US Marine till you were ‘Honorably discharged due to injury during training.’  You are the bodyguard of Yumi. You are almost blind in your left eye. - Wanna know more? I am gonna be cheeky and go - Go read it. XD

Mao - Final Fantasy XV 

“There’s nothing special to me, I’m just trying to pull my weight in the world.”

Height: 5 foot 2/158cm 

Body type:  Tone, but she carries a bit of extra weight making her slightly curvy. 

Hair Color: Brown - and long. When worn in a high ponytail it rests at her shoulder blades, she has a distinct braid behind her right ear, crystal beads adorn it at the end, the braid itself is long enough to rest on her shoulder.  When she’s not out hunting, these beads get put onto a silver chain and worn around her neck. The beads were a gift from her mother.

Eye Color: Dark brown.  

Scars: Long scars that start on her right cheek, one on top of the other,  and travel down the side of her neck. When she takes off her coat the scars are noticeable on her shoulder. The scars go down over her shoulder and across her side and stops in the middle of her back. She was pounced by a Voretooth trying to save her mom. It didn’t go well.

Outfit: Black boots, dark grey cargo pants, a thick black leather belt, a grey sleeveless t-shirt, and a long dark red overcoat that rests at the back of her calves. She keeps two daggers sheathed at the small of her back, so her weapons are always in plain sight yet never seen. 

Weapons: Dual daggers  – Her mother's, they’re slim and simple looking, will be somewhat distraught if she ever loses them.  She is also quite proficient with short swords, carries two across her back - will only bring these as her ‘heavy hitters’.

Skills: She’s an excellent tracker - all those years hunting by herself - and can track both humans, and animals.  She’s quite quick, and knows hand to hand combat as well, never underestimate her, as she will use her size and speed to her advantage to put you into some form of a hold, or punch your lights out if you deserve it..  For example, she’s been seen sprinting around a Spiracorn to jump up on it’s back, rush up it’s neck and stab it in the eyes. She know’s it’s reckless, and will usually only do such things out of desperation,or showing off.

Personality: She comes across as friendly, and flirty to anyone and everyone, however, she can come across being very forward, or brash, and can also come across very stubborn and sarcastic. She’s a bit of a hot head at times, but will backpedal with someone if they call her out on her shit. 

Bio: She grew up on the outlands of Lucis, with her mother. Life wasn’t easy, but she learned to track, and hunt from her mom. She was in her teens when her mom died of an “illness” near Lachyrte Haven, close to Galdin Quay.  She grows melancholy every time she has to use this haven for this reason, and after leaving the area, she’ll perk back up. 

She can be heard muttering the words “For hearth and home.” when she’s finished with a battle, as if she’s reassuring herself she’s still alive, and what she’s alive for. If she’s hunting beasts, she can be seen resting her hand on the downed animals side, thanking it for it’s life.  

She’s gone on hunts for, and with The Marshal, and will admit she has got quite the crush on Cor, if you get friendly enough with her for her to admit it. She blames this crush on the fact that he’s so kept to himself. And he’s a mystery. 

She met the bros in passing once at Hammerhead, curious about their entourage, and hearing them pick up a hunt, decided to tag along, from a distance, and tracked the bros through the wilderness - not that it was all that hard to do, and helped them out of an MT ambush.  She offered to track the beasts they were hunting after that, and has gone along with them on their other adventures. She, at first, will admit, she didn’t know that Noctis was the Crown Prince, and that the others were his Crownsguard, which Noctis appreciates as she treats him like any other hunter, and not what his title entails. Though she will lay her life down for him and his group, much to his dismay. 

She has no shame what. so. ever.  And enjoys the flirting banter she has with the boys. The more she gets Prompto to blush, or Noct to roll his eyes, and become more quiet and awkward, the better. She’s out to get Ignis to lose his composure, and Gladio and her flirt like crazy, probably doing so just to get Noct and Prompto to cringe, however she’ll always put him in his place with a witty comment. 

She’s come to love the boys equally, and fears one day that they may ask her to choose one of them. She knows that she couldn’t do it, and as much as it would pain her, she’d rather slip away one night, and leave them, then cause a rift between the banter she has with them, as selfish as this may be. She would be ecstatic if she could make it into a huge poly relationship, but she knows the Astrals are cruel in their ways, and wouldn’t let her have such a thing, so she remains as that close, flirty friend.

She adores Iris, and Talcott and acts like their older sister, and don’t let her find out you were bad mouthing or bullying either of these pure souls. She will end you. When the 10 years of darkness happens, much to Gladio’s discontent, she teaches both Iris, and Talcott how to defend themselves and hunt. Staying by their sides through the whole ordeal, giving Gladio truly, one less thing to worry over, as he knows she’d let nothing happen to either Iris, or Talcott.

She has an affinity to domestic animals, where stray cats and dogs just seem to follow her, and it has not been unheard of to have her pocket meow in the middle of a conversation, and a small kitten pops it’s head out of her chest coat pocket.