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shady-tavern · 8 months ago

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Preview for "The Magic of Consequences" the April Patreon Short Story

(warnings ahead for temporary, implied child death and implied abuse. Please take care of yourselves)

*.*.*

See, the thing about being a witch was that people had misconceptions about your profession. They thought you were busy cooking soup made of eyes and frog feet, or bottling the souls of whoever pissed you off to sell them to monsters and demons.

And sure, sometimes you handled disgusting ingredients – some made you whisper 'ew ew ew ew' under your breath the entire time. And sure, sometimes you made deals with unsavory, strange creatures. And, yeah, alright sometimes you did bottle souls, but you had never cut off a poor frog's feet. Or plucked out someone's eyes.

The sad part was, despite your best attempts to polish your reputation, people rarely sought you out for good reasons. You had made so many health tonics at the beginning of your career, excited to go around and make things a little better, only to be semi-gently reminded by reality that you should have gone and become a herbalist instead.

But herbalists had little to no magic and wasting your talent for the arcane had seemed stupid at the time. You hadn't had the money for the mage schools growing up and when a hedge witch had found you spelling apples to turn your bully's hair a bright, ugly color, you had found yourself with an impromptu teacher instead.

By now you were used to being sought out for less than savory deals, people appearing in your shop with hooded cloaks and shifty eyes and overly-obvious glances around for any witnesses. The utterly unimpressed face you greeted them with tended to make them even more shifty.

More often than not you managed to talk them down from their really, really dumb ideas – like desiring to love-potion-trap a prince in marriage or robbing a barony – but the rest of the time people were too intent on their dumb decisions.

Everything had consequences. You had written that in big, big bold letters on everything you sold. You pointed it out verbally as well every time someone bought an ill-advised potion or spell from you.

"Why did I become I witch," you groused to yourself as you bottled a potion that made flowers smell like rotting corpses and beer-farts, because some asshole two towns over knew he wouldn't win the flower presentation competition next week with honest, hard work. What a loser.

"Oh, I'll help people, I said," you grumbled, stuffing a cork into the bottle and almost making it spill in the process. "Oh, I'll make people happy, I said."

You set the bottle aside and started to clean the cauldron when you heard the bell of the front door jingle. "I'll be with you in a moment!"

After cleaning up and making a face at something squishy that squelched beneath your foot – some things liked to bubble over and this potion had just been an all-around headache – you walked to the front of your shop.

A very young woman, clearly a noble considering the stupidly fancy clothes and jewelry, was waiting for you, peering at some of the bottles for sale.

See, nobles were trouble. Nothing but trouble. If the farmer wanted to take revenge on his cheating wife, fine. If a bandit wanted to conjure a storm for his robbery, whatever. If a miner wanted to steal jewels from his employer unnoticed, it was none of your business.

You could deny those people whatever you wanted or grant them whatever you wanted. At the end of the day, they were just normal people who were more or less stab-happy.

But nobles? Ugh.

They had mages in their employ to deal with many problems, Astrologers who could tell their fortunes, treasurers who ensured they could afford nearly anything they wanted and there were other nobles they were allied with. In short, they had power and if they showed up at your doorstep it meant they wanted things that their already impressive collection of options couldn't grant them.

Which was curses.

"I hear you're quite the competent witch," the young noble said and you eyed her warily. She looked like she was barely eighteen, it wouldn't surprise you if her wedding was in, like, a month or something.

Nobles always got married to someone, last you heard, which made many lads and lasses, no matter their station, sigh and day-dream about one day being chosen as a spouse, no matter how impossible that dream was in some cases.

What, did she want to ensure her future spouse wouldn't cheat? Or had she been spurned and turned away in favor of someone else and now she wanted to get rid of the competition before she had to officially cancel the wedding? It happened sometimes and people really loved to gossip when nobles chose a different partner than their intended.

"I guess," you said, barely keeping a sour tone in check. This young woman probably wanted nothing good from you. Great.

You really should stop stocking healing tonics. For some reason, people always thought they would turn them ugly or give them illnesses or crooked dicks.

The young woman frowned. "You don't sound very sure about that." She then pressed her lips together. "But no matter, you are my last resort."

She turned to face you fully, her fancy dress sweeping dramatically with the movement and she raised her chin, proud and confident and it could almost hide the anxious shine in her eyes. "I need a curse."

Outwardly you nodded sagely. Inwardly you sighed so dramatically and theatrically that you had to bite down on the urge to whine like a spoiled child. You didn't want to do curses. Curses fucking sucked. But who were you to deny a customer? Especially one with both the money and the ability to make your life either better or a living hell.

Because, surprise surprise, plenty of the ingredients you needed for potions or spells did not come cheap. No one had ever bothered to tell you that being a witch in general was not cheap in the slightest. All the stories about witches in walking huts or in cottages in the woods had really set you up for disappointment.

"What kind of curse?" you asked and then pointed at the sign hung right behind and above you. 'Everything has Consequences' was written in big, big letters by a really fancy hand.

You had even paid a fairy to make it glitter a bit. People liked glittery stuff, right? So far the glitter certainly had made sure everyone read the signs, but that was it. At least, the ones that could read did.

The young woman read it quickly too, then focused on you with more determination. "I need a curse that turns a princess into a monster."

Oh. Uh. That was...well, you could do it, but... "That's a very hefty curse, with equally hefty consequences," you said cautiously. "Maybe there are other ways to get you what you want? Maybe a temporary transformation spell? Perhaps something to pretty you up to catch a prince's eye, not that you need it, of course."

You were not in the business of selling love potions, because ew. Same with those annoying sleeping-beauty potions that required the asleep one to be kissed awake. Look, you were an asshole and you had cursed a couple of people already, but you did draw the line at all that non-consensual love stuff.

Even witches needed to draw lines somewhere.

"No, I need a curse," the young woman said, with a voice firm enough to give mithril a run for its money.

You considered saying no, before you remembered all the reasons why you shouldn't. If you refused her you'd probably have to escape her wrath, uproot your life and settle down elsewhere.

You were lazy, though, and you didn't want to do that unless it became necessary. Besides, every curse could be broken and you'd just give this curse a really easy way to get out of it. You did that for every curse you sold, because you weren't asshole enough to leave people stuck in some horrible reality for years on end.

"Do you want the monster to be sentient or not?" you asked. In case she didn't, you'd make sure the curse could be broken by, like, drinking water or something.

The young woman blinked, then seemed to perk up, looking suddenly eager. "I can decide what the monster is?"

"If you're willing to pay more," you said with a shrug. You were a good witch and curses, for as little as you liked to cast them most of the time, had always been your best subject.

You threw your health tonics a forlorn look, noting the faint dust that had started to gather on the shelves around them and a bit on the bottles themselves.

"I'll pay you anything you want," the noble lady said, her eyes suddenly filled with a hopeful gleam and a smile appeared on her face for the first time. It made her look even younger and you realized just how grim she had been previously. Huh.

You leaned against the counter to be more comfortable and reached for a piece of paper and a quill to write down what she wanted. The young woman was downright grinning by the time she had the curse tailored to her every whim.

"Wait here," you said, studying the list of demands as you ducked into the backroom. Thankfully, you had bought a couple of rare ingredients just a couple of days ago, so you managed to cobble together what you needed for the spell.

Fairy wings – not plucked, because again, you weren't that kind of asshole and a number of fairies had to molt their wings a number of times as they grew and some even every spring - wolf teeth and a griffin feather.

You carried everything out, the young woman watching curiously as you ground the teeth and wings to fine dust which you then rubbed thoroughly onto the feather. All that was left was the transformation spell that would complete the curse.

Dark magic flowed through you easily enough, the wood around you graying and the very air itself growing cold and hungry, like a drooling beast was gnashing its teeth, bright eyes focused on the tooth-and-fairy-wing-dusted feather.

Once the spell was completed, your surroundings returning to normal, you put the feather into a silk bag and handed it over.

"Put it under the pillow of the one you want to curse, they must sleep on it for six hours straight," you told the young woman. "And remember, consequences."

The young woman clearly wasn't listening anymore, accepting the bag while she absentmindedly set down a pouch of coin. You started to count out the gold you'd need, since she had brought more than enough, when you heard the bell and the door closing.

Looking up, the young woman was gone.

Huh. Well, you weren't going to say no to all that extra money. You scooped everything up and dropped it off in a spelled chest to protect your most precious possessions from sticky fingers. That taken care of, you returned to cleaning up the backroom, especially the squishy smear on the ground.

A couple of days later you heard of the terrible curse that had befallen the kingdom's princess and how the wedding between her and some kind of far-away prince was off the table for the time being.

The thing with your curses was, the cursed one instinctively knew the cure the moment they got cursed. You ensured that, to give them the chance to go and fix the problem themselves. None of that 'someone must fall in love with you' nonsense. This particular curse could be fixed by seeking the nearest doorway, doing a little chicken-dance and clapping trice afterwards and et voilá, the curse was gone.

Easy-peasy. The princess should be back to her old self in no time.

You quickly got distracted by some asshole teenagers that wanted to buy itching-powder to prank someone and just as they left with a vial of the stuff in tow, a little boy hurried inside with tears on his face. He put down three copper, looking very, very scared and asked in a wavering voice if you could fix his dog, holding up a tiny and very weak puppy.

It was the first time someone had asked you for that kind of help. To heal. You grabbed harpy feather and reached out to rest your fingertips on the tiny puppy's tiny, feverishly hot head and the light magic spell you used felt like a warm embrace. As though someone powerful was wrapping their arms around you and the boy and the puppy with endless kindness and soft reassurance.

It was the most beautiful spell you had ever gotten to perform and the moment you were done, the feather turned to dust in your fingers, the puppy opened its eyes. It wagged its tiny little tail like mad and when the boy broke out into tears, it licked the tears away.

"Thank you," he sobbed and you gave the boy's head a few pats, resisting the urge to tear up yourself.

"Of course," you said, pretending like you weren't touched and glad and emotional. There was just so much dust in this stupid shop. That was all.

You gave him back the copper, telling him that he got the spell for free if he promised to take great care of the dog and to bring it to you if something bad happened to it again.

The little boy grinned, so relieved and happy you swore he was the reason sun shone through the window in that moment, before leaving with his puppy who looked perky and awake again.

You puttered around, restocking some things and you set the health tonics up by the counter, hoping that maybe now someone would buy them.

When, a couple of days later, a merchant asked for a spell that turned all his copper to gold, you heavily considered getting 'consequences' embroidered on your clothes as well. But he really wanted the spell so you gave it to him and of course he didn't want to buy a health tonic.

You were sulking on your counter when the door opened and a very fancy young man entered. You resisted the urge to groan like a blacksmith's bellows. A noble, again. Nothing but trouble.

"Good witch," he said with a small bow, the fancy feathers on his fancy hat bouncing perkily. "May I trouble you for a curse?"

You waved grandly at the sign behind you. "You may. Please read the fine print." The very big, very bold fine print.

He did, nodding solemnly. "I hear you offer curses that turn people into monsters?"

He must be a friend of that young lady. Lovely. Now that you thought about it, you hadn't heard anything else about the princess. Was her wedding off the table for good? Surely not, she had to have broken her curse by now.

Or had that noble lady pounced on the far-away prince instead and there would be a wedding announcement once a proper amount of time had passed to avoid rumors from spreading? Maybe the princess would go and marry another prince. Well, it was none of your business.

*.*.*

Would you like to read more? Would you like to check out other, already published short stories of mine? Would you like to support an artist so more stories can be written and published more often? Feel free to head over to my patreon and check it out!

If you'd like to read more of my other stories available here on Tumblr, give my Masterpost a shake! Every story is written with passion and love and I hope you have great time reading!

And lastly, thank you all so much for your support! Be it a patreon membership, leaving a like or reblogging with or without tags (and yes, I do read them all) or sending me messages, it all makes me so happy. It encourages me to keep going and it makes creating and sharing those creations with you all an absolute joy.

Truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. I hope you have a wonderful day, lots of love to you all!

#my writing #preview #witches #found family #no romance #magic #fantasy #short story #I hope you'll like it!#i had a lot of fun writing this one

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randomitemdrop · 3 years ago

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Table of Liquids

You find a bottle and it contains:

Pleasant fresh drinking water

Gross nasty stinking water

Seawater with a small creature swimming in it

Anti-water

Bubbling green acid

Real acid, which is frequently a still colorless liquid

Delicious fruit juice

Unpleasantly sweet fruit juice

Unpleasantly sour/tart fruit juice

Spoiled/moldy fruit juice that hasn’t quite fermented into drinkable alcohol just yet

Unpalatably savory vegetable juice that probably has vitamins and antioxidants and whatever but still. Ew

Coffee (roll d6: 1 decent black, 2 poorly filtered so it’s full of grit, 3 so full of cream and sugar it’s basically cake, 4 extremely fancy drip coffee with hints of aromatic spice, 5 Popular Coffee Chain Seasonal Flavor, 6 tepid office break room coffee)

Tea (roll d10: black, white, green, yellow, oolong, sassafras, hibiscus, mint, patchouli, cannabis)

Boba (see Table of Flavors/Scents)

Spruce beer

Fairy Drink

Zooper Dooper Bubblegum Milk

Peg Nog

Punker Punch

Crystal Pepsi

Dr. Nut

Chicken Partner

Masochist Cider

Salty potato-flavored Soda

Pancake and syrup-flavored soda

Bird-nest-flavored soda

Iron-girder-flavored soda

One of those weird Jones Soda savory flavors. Go around the group and everyone say what they had for dinner last night, then the DM decides which would make the worst soda flavor

Crass Soda

Energy Potion (roll d12: Original, CodeRed, Livewire, Voltage, WhiteOut, PitchBlack, Baja Blast, Spark, GameFuel, Supernova, VooDew, Flamin’ Hot)

Capri Suns of dubious flavors

Coca Cola of dubious flavors

Asparagus-water

Clamato

The Sludge

Frobscottle

Meat drippings

Milk (DM’s choice of source)

Clotted cream

Grungnort

Lamp oil

Cooking oil

Baby oil

Snake oil

Ink (roll d6: black, blue, red, pink, luminous green, invisible)

Booze that makes you raucous and boisterous

Booze that makes you sentimental and melancholy

Booze that makes you lose all sense of balance

Booze that is basically a Potion of Irresistible Dance

Booze that makes you hallucinate fairies and sing Baz Luhrman jukebox musical showtunes

Angostura Bitters

Wine of Mystery

Non-Alcoholic Vacation Juice

Soup broth (you choose the flavor idk there’s thousands of soups in the world and I don’t think any of them will affect the gameplay more than another)

Pickle brine

Reeking Smatch

Onion juice

Garlic Cola

Potion of Skill or Proficiency or Ability or Whatever; a creature that consumes it gains a skill of the DM’s choice or roll d100 on the Table

Very Cool Pirate Juice

Cowboy Juice

Disinfectant

Mouthwash

Old man cologne

Potion of Damage Resistance (roll d12: Acid, Bludgeon, Force, Fire, Cold, Psychic, Radiant, Thunder, Lightning, Poison, Necrotic, Slash/Pierce)

Potion of Damage (use as a splash weapon or trick someone into drinking it; same table as above)

Bone-hurting juice

Metal polish

2-in-1 shampoo/conditioner

Potion of ___ Friendship (roll d20: 1-7 Animal, 8 Monstrosity, 9 Undead, 10 Ooze, 11 Aberration, 12 Celestial, 13 Construct, 14 Dragon, 15 Elemental, 16 Fey, 17 Fiend, 18 Giant, 19 Humanoid, 20 Plant)

Potion of ___ Repellent (causes the indicated type to act as Turned. Roll d20: Arthropod, Birds, Magical Beasts, Horses, Ooze, Shark, Beholder, Elemental, Undead, Good, Evil, Lawful, Chaotic, Fey, Draconic, Human, Goblinoid, Psychic, Aberration, God)

Potion of ___ Attractant/Pheremone (same table as above)

Potion of Giant ___ (roll d4: Strength, Weight, Height, Head)

Potion of Gaseous Form

Potion of Animal Form (Table of Animals)

Potion of Healing

Potion of Monster Alarm

Potion of Data Compression

Potion of Shit the Bed

Potion of Boob Have

Potion of InfantSee

Potion of Regalia

Heroic Brew

Potion of Animate Object

Potion of Stat Swap

Rose-hibiscus tropical probiotic THC-infused Elixir of Love

Beard tonic

Anti-beard tonic

Sleeping Potion

Poison/venom (roll d10: Cobra, Scorpion, Centipede, Black Widow, Pfeffer’s Flamboyant Cuttlefish, Platypus, Cane Toad, Doll’s-Eye Plant, Hemlock, Death Cap Mushroom)

Love Potion

Hate Potion (as Love Potion but instead with hate)

Indifference Potion (as Love Potion but instead they are indifferent to the subject)

Potion of Resting Face, compels a creature that consumes it to display a particular emotion (roll d10: blank, happiness, sadness, fear, anger, disgust, :3, Dreamworks face, Gary Busey, DM’s choice of RageComic/emoji)

Potion of Sin, filling a creature that consumes it with a compulsion to act on the urge (roll d8: Envy, Wrath, Lust, Gluttony, Sloth, Pride, Greed, Blasphemy)

Phlogiston

Alkahest (universal solvent)

Ice-Nine

Lethe-Water (Potion of Forgetfulness)

Humour (first roll d4: Blood, Phlegm, Black Bile, Yellow Bile, then roll d10: Human, Dwarf, Elf, Dragon, Weird Bug, Unicorn, Displacer-Beast, Rust Monster, Demon, God)

#tables

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animeomegas · 3 years ago

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Can I request omega Asra pregnancy headcanon?

You can indeed!!

Asra never stops pottering around and doing things while he's pregnant, all the way up to the day his water breaks.

He'll climb ladders to reach potion ingredients.

He'll crawl under tables to clean.

He'll carry back a huge shopping load home from the market by himself.

So, basically, what I'm saying is that he spend the majority of his pregnancy stressing his alpha out immensely.

Asra's libido is very up and down while he's pregnant. For his first trimester, it drops to almost zero, which is strange because he has a very high sex drive. And then for his second trimester, he's basically insatiable from the moment he wakes up to the moment he goes to sleep.

(And oftentimes in the middle of the night too, but Asra is too empathetic to wake up his alpha in the middle of the night just because he's horny, so instead his alpha will wake up to Asra... dealing with it himself...)

Craves bread in any and every form.

He will try and live off of bread and soup/butter for his entire pregnancy so his alpha will probably have to intervene.

He likes soaking his feet in fancy soaks, like warm milk and honey with flowers and spices. He waters it all down though so he doesn't waste too much milk.

He really, really enjoys nesting in his down hours, and spends far too much on nesting supplies but his alpha probably can't bare to tell him no when he looks so earnestly excited about it.

He puts the baby crib in his bedroom because he wants the pup to stay with him after their born, and he puts a special little smaller 'cradle', aka a basket and lots of blankets, in his nest so the pup has a place to rest that's safer than just laying them on the ground.

"Yes, of course, you're lucky that we just got that back in stock last night," Asra smiled while dealing with a customer. "Let me just fetch it for you."

Asra turned around and pulled the ladder over to the section where it was needed. Of course the man had asked for the herb they keep right on the top shelf.

Asra climbed slowly, his seven month pregnant tummy making it very difficult, but he was determined.

"Er, I'm not sure you should be..." the man said nervously watching Asra climb the ladder. "Don't you have another staff member to get it, or perhaps your mate?"

"Hmm? No, I'm almost there-"

Just as the words left his mouth, Asra's foot slipped and the whole ladder shook, rattling against the shelves. Thankfully, Asra regained his balance.

"You know, I really think you ought to get down from there..."

"Just one moment," Asra called back down, arm stretched to grab the bottle. Nearly there... Aha!

And just as slowly as he climbed up, Asra climbed back down, before swiftly bagging and giving the still sweating customer his herbs.

"Have a nice day," Asra called as the man left.

"Asra," you said, stepping out from upstairs where you'd been on a break. "Everything going okay?"

"Yes, it's fine, but I had a man come in for some of the herb we got in last night, I knew it would be a good call to stock it."

Your face froze and Asra watched your eyes slowly move from his face to the bottle of herbs on the top shelf, before settling on the incriminating ladder.

"Asra," you cooed in a dangerous tone. Oh dear. "How did you get the herbs down from the top shelf?"

"Ahaha, about that..."

#asks #the arcana #asra #asra x mc #asra x reader #headcanons #hcs #pregnancy #a/b/o #omegaverse #omega asra alpha mc #alpha mc #omega asra

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mushroomdungeon · 3 years ago

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030CRtober Pumpkin Spice

I’ve been sitting on this sense October. Forgot to post it now it’s mid-December.

This was for Halloween Zero-to-Thirty Challenge Rating Challenge but as you can see I never posted/finished it. Well I’ll be posting what I did do.

Day 1 - CR0 - Pumpkin Spice

Pumpkin Spice Elixir & Drink Powder Mixer

Elixir is just a fancy way of saying soda in my modern fantasy dnd world.

They look like potions cause branding, however aren't magical in any way. Pumpkin Spice Elixir is a pumpkin flavored soda and pumpkin spice drink powder mixer is like those powder packets that would be placed into water to make it taste different but for fake pumpkin flavoring, nutmeg, and cinnamon.

The world has drink vending machines that give out elixirs, bottled coffees or teas, andor other drinks found in those types of machines. None of these have any stats to go with, they are merely the equivalent to "what type of mead where we given" kinda stuff.

Keep Reading is for Lore

~~~

Summary: Pumpkin soda with a lot of spices mixed in sold around the time autumn happens in the Feywild. It's sold year round in elven cities surrounding where pumpkins are grown in Nov, but extremely expensive outside of harvesting season.

Item Type: Drinks (soda), Drink Powder Mix (“spice”)

Value: 5 sp (low end 1sp, high end 5gp)

Eatability: Fey, Kuo-toa, illithids, Myconids, Stoneling, Thri-kreen - can't consume it, mostly cause of the carbonation or inability to consume any elixir.

~~~

Description: A carbonated drink of pumpkin puree. Tastes more like pumpkin soup that is fizzy with cinnamon, unless you get a coffee variant then its most fizzy black coffee with a hint of pumpkin flavoring and a butt load of cinnamon.

Most come in simple cylinder glass bottles, however some manufacturers will make pumpkin shaped bottles and tint the glass orange. Autumn soda competition will often make extremely detailed containers for prize winners.

~~~

Vague Recipe - this is a generic recipe; elixir bars, MAM variants, and personal recipes may differ drastically. This is the closest to what you'd probably get from a vending machine.

Water

Sugar or Corn Syrup

Pumpkin Puree and/or Pumpkin Flavoring Syrup

Spice Mix: Cinnamon, Ginger, Nutmeg, Cloves, Allspice

Sparkling Water

Whipped Cream

~~~

Available - Pumpkin Spice Elixir can be found at most vending machines during Fall and within the first two weeks of winter.

~~~

MAM (Magic Amedity Market) variants:

1, 2, 4, 6, or 8 Ice Cube Tray

Pure vial of the syrup

Thick liquid variant

Dry powder mix spice bag

Drink memory brain pastry

~~~

History-

Created by a hobgoblin chef, reportedly drunk after work.

#030crc #homebrew #dnd #dnd art #potion #pumpkin spice #homebrew item #homebrew food #homebrew drink #pumpkin #soda #fantasy recipe

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years ago

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Personal Demon (Indruck)

@pantstacular requested: 58 Is such my entire jam I’d pretty much die if you did it with Indruck. “I’m a demon, you’re a witch, we’re enemies but when I show up to kill you, you’re crying and I really don’t know what to do now.” SFW

A talented, young warlock will employ the most complex, innovative, and powerful wards on their home.

A seasoned warlock who was never that excited about all this in the first place will employ straightforward but deeply aggravating wards on their home.

Indrid’s nemesis is in that second category. His wards are never fancy, but they’re durable and reliable, an utter pain in his tail to break down. Some cannot be broken by spells at all, and even a demon of his skill could burn through all his power trying to destroy them.

Which is why Indrid simply pays a passing human twenty dollars to kick a gap in the salt barrier, grits his teeth passing through the Rowan trees while his skin feels like he’s getting a full-body tattoo, and uses an oven mitt to open the iron door knob (the door is lined with iron, so he cannot slip as a shadow beneath it), hissing in pain all the while.

“Duck Newton…” He lilts, certain the warlock will be terrified to hear his voice in his strong hold, “it is time to end things once and for all, dearest enemy.”

He keeps his eyes on the present, not wanting to spoil the fun for himself by peeking at the futures. He glides into the human’s bedroom, plants his feet on the floor, “your worthless soul is mine.”

“Ughhhh” a muffled sound, Indrid flicking on the lights to find the human face-down on his bed, “are you fuckin serious? Now?”

“Yes, Duck Newton, now” dark energy crackles in his fingertips.

Thwump

“Ack!” He shakes his head, Duck now sitting up, preparing to throw another pillow at him.

“Get out.” Duck glowers, voice flat.

“You dare to order me-”

Thwump

“Get!” Duck’s eyes are wet, red-rimmed, and Indrid notices he’s in sweatpants and a ratty t-shirt that’s damp in patches.

“Have you been crying?”

Thwump and his glasses are knocked askew.

“How many of those blasted things do you have?”

Two hovering pillows turn to four and all collide with him at once.

“Clearly you are, ow, in no mindset to, ow, duel me as I, ack, see fit. I shall return!”

He dissolves into shadow and speeds out the door, materializing on the sidewalk and paying a passerby ten dollars to fix the salt ring.

Not willing to let a plan go to waste, he repeats this process the next night. This time, Duck is laying in the darkened living room.

“Now, my greatest adversary, it is time to meet your end--why are you still crying?” He cocks his head as Duck magics the light on.

“Because I’m in my own fuckin’ house and can do whatever I want.”

“But you seem upset.”

“No fuckin shit, sherlock.” Duck raises a throw pillow and Indrid covers his face far faster than he’d ever admit in public.

“I merely mean that, ah, perhaps a duel would be a welcome change of pace?”

“I look like I’m in the headspace to duel to you?”

“Not at the moment, but that could change, yes? I do wish to destroy you, is that sufficient motivation to shake off this fog of misery that’s hanging about your soul like stale cologne?”

Duck groans, but straightens, reaching over the far arm of the couch. Indrid perks up, approaches at a safe distance, certain he will see a familiar sword or spell in a moment.

What he gets is misted with holy water.

He hisses, wiping his face in a hurry. His power is so great that the diluted mixture doesn’t harm him, but it’s as if someone is squirting him in the face with lemon juice.

“I banished you worse ways than this, demon, but I’m fuckin tired and you ain’t worth the goddamn energy and you don’t wanna end up straight back below. So get.” He raises the spray bottle, spritzes him again and Indrid backs away, spluttering and hissing.

“You, you think you can threaten me, shoo me out like OW some common ghost GAh that was in my nose that time fine, fine I am going.” He stumbles over the threshold, falling on his ass on the pavement as Duck slams the door.

Perhaps a new plan is in order.

----------------------------

“You wanna know Ducks’ what?” Aubrey taps her spoon on the edge of the potion she’s mixing.

“His favorite food. I wish to cheer him up. Unless of course, you wish to simply tell me what is troubling him.” Indrid grins at the witch.

“You know the rules, Cold; I don’t trade information between sides. And, like, even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you what’s going on with him. It’s...personal, okay?”

Indrid sighs. He expected that answer. Aubrey is the child of a witch of the light and a witch of the shadows, giving her a rare balance of powers. It also means entities of all moral alignments will come to her for aid. Her rules are simple; no fighting in her house and no getting her in the middle of major conflicts.

For all that, Indrid still has never told her his true name. She calls him ‘Cold,’ as everyone does.

“French Onion Soup. That’s his favorite thing, from the Wolfe Grill downtown.”

“He likes that coffee fudge too, the one Barclay makes” Dani, Aubrey’s wife, adds from her spot spinning fur off a massive angora rabbit.

Barclay is a kitchen witch, one with whom Indrid has a shaky truce (he egged on a fight in the restaurant, needing some quick points with the higher demons. It’s not his fault one of the humans knocked over a candle). He can probably manage to buy fudge without being scolded.

Duck’s added more fortifications since yesterday, and Indrid only needs a few moments anyway. He finds a sliver in a plane that lets him slip into Duck’s mirror, knowing the human is getting ready for bed.

The human senses him, looks up from the sink, toothbrush still in his mouth. He blinks once, to tired to even count as annoyance.

“ ‘wat ‘ow?”

“I have brought you food.” Indrid waits until Duck spits into the sink to pass the two bags out of the mirror.

“Why-”

“It will cheer you up. It is your favorite. Then you will have your fight back, and be ready to face me.”

Duck takes the bags, then several steps back, “y’know, most demons would see this is a chance to get me while I’m down.”

“Well” Indrid sniffs haughtily, “I am not most demons. Besides, what good is claiming your soul if it was like stepping on an ant?”

The warlock looks at the food, then at Indrid, “I ain’t gonna eat this.”

“Bu-wha-I got it specifically to please you!”

“And it could be poisoned or cursed or some shit.”

Indrid growls in frustration, “fine, wallow in your misery.” Then he’s out on the street again, ready to cause some evil. Or to go back to the bakery and drown his aggravation in a caramel eggnog latte.

----------------------------

Duck stares at the bags, still sitting on his kitchen counter. If he’s not going to bed any time soon, he should at least eat something. Not that though. Even if it’s his favorite. How the fuck did the demon know that?

Cold has never quite been like other demons Duck’s run across. When he’d yanked him out of Boyd (because Ned decided to read the inscription on a new artifact for the Cryptonomica), he hadn’t taken it personally, but proceeded to try and tempt Duck for two days solid with everything he could think of. Then he decided he liked Kepler and could do plenty of demonic work in it, which had Duck worried. The demon is powerful, he can feel it when they fight. But, while he still worries, Cold sticks to being a mid-level threat at best even if he keeps promising to destroy him.

God that soup smells good.

He picks up a piece of amethyst, runs it over and over the air around the bag. No trace of anything dangerous.

Fuck it.

Twenty minutes later his belly is full, he actually feels kinda sorta almost borderline happy, and he hasn’t turned into a frog or been transported to the underworld.

When Cold inevitably shows up again a few days later, Duck doesn’t even look up from the model ship he’s working on .

“Thanks for, uh, for dinner.”

“How did you know I was here?” The silver-haired man steps out of the hall, red eyes glowing behind redder glasses.

“I may not be able to sense auras or souls or shit, but you and I been dancin around each other for long enough that I can tell when the hair on my neck is standin up thanks to you.”

“Then you are prepared to fight?”

“No. Look, I dunno now how it is for demons, but takes more than nice food to make a fella get over somethin serious.”

“I see…” Cold looks around the room, “are you certain you are not interested in even a small bit of conflict?”

“Nope. Busy.”

“Well I am not!”

“Can’t you just go find another warlock to bother?””

“No! Well, yes, but I do not wish to. You are my adversary, the one I devote most of my time to tormenting.”

“That’s kinda an exaggeration. And it don’t change that I’m workin on this.” He points to the model, “so I’m just gonna ignore you until you leave.”

There’s a huff, followed by the fluttering of his mail as the demon knocks it onto the floor. He glances up and notices that Cold’s tail is now visible and twitching with agitation. When Duck does nothing else, he knocks the remaining mail on the ground.

“That ain’t changin my mind.”

A roll of glass on tile, Cold pushing a water glass towards the edge of the counter with his finger.

“Y’won’t like what happens if you do that.”

The glass tips over. As water spills onto the floor, Duck summons a towel with one hand and a dish of salt with the other. Before the demon can stop him, he draws a salt circle, trapping him in a small spot by the table.

“Erase that this instant.”

“Nope. You been poppin in and out the last two weeks and not leavin when I ask nicely, so now you’re gonna stay right here until I decide you can leave.”

The demon drops down onto the floor, arms crossed and tail thrashing, “I just do not see what is so severe it makes you uninterested in anything but work, sleep, and making ships that cannot go anywhere.”

“Don’t expect you to understand.”

“Yes, but you also will not tell me so how can you know if-” a future flickers into vision, “your romantic partner left you.”

“That’s cheatin’.”

“That is what has upset you so?”

“Yeah, because we were together for six fuckin years, and she watched me grow up since I was eighteen and was my mentor and it feels like a big constant in my life is just fuckin gone.” He leaves out the part where he'd felt it going for awhile, where part of him knew it needed to but the rest wanted things to stay as they were.

The demon cocks his head in that way of his, smirks but says nothing.

“Nevermind. You’re a demon, love ain’t somethin you got a concept of.” He stands, retrieving another bottle of adhesive from the too-empty living room.

As he picks up the next piece, Cold murmurs, “It is not so foreign a concept as you might think.”

Duck shoots him an incredulous look.

“I was a creature of the divine once, beings capable of great love, even if many of them do not utilize that capacity. Even if I was not supposed to in my role. But more than the memory of that feeling, I have moments in which I suspect I can feel it still.”

“Like when you see someone do somethin real wicked?”

The demon doesn’t rise to the paltry bait, “When I go sit in a park, or those woods you like, and draw and watch people coming and going in a thousand little moments of mundanity, I feel something more than mere tranquility. Sometimes I will go to movies or to concerts, to feel the swell of joy and excitement, and it almost seems as if I love those around me.”

It’s the last thing Duck expects him to say, and so all he can do is stare at him a moment before returning to his work. The demon, content with the silence, watches cross-legged. When Duck grabs a packet of cookies from the kitchen he pauses, then hands one to Cold.

The demon sniffs it, proceeds to nibble on the edge before making a delighted sound and shoving the whole thing in his mouth.

“You never had Girl Scout cookies before?”

“No. I do not need to eat, and often only do so when temptation requires it. Or when Barclay makes something with eggnog in it. Which is a pity; I really enjoy human food, you come up with such interesting things. Now it is my turn for a question. Why are you making those?”

Duck looks at the near-complete model, “I dunno. Helps me relax, nice to just be able to focus on one thing rather than worryin’ about work or warlock stuff or dyin’ alone or if you’re gonna randomly turn up in my goddamn bedroom without warnin’.”

“Knocking is not exactly demonic.”

He says it so matter-of-factly, the smile on his face oddly honest, that Duck cracks up. Giggles spill out of him as he rests his face in his hands. His elbows slip on the shiny tabletop, collapsing him forward, laughing loud enough to startle the cat from her hiding place.

“Yeah” he sniffs, finally sitting up while wiping away tears and still chuckling, “guess it ain’t.”

The demon is smiling again, softer than his usual grin that glints like a knife in the dark.

“Will you show me more of your ships?”

“You ain’t gettin outta that circle that easy.”

“I am aware. But you could bring them where I could see.” He seems genuinely excited at the idea.

Duck stands, hands him the packet of Thin Mints, “I could do that, yeah. Sit tight, I’ll be right back.”

-----------------------------------------------

Duck picks up to the two reusable grocery bags, locking doors and throwing up extra wards behind him as he walks to his car.

He slides into the drivers seat, sets the bags in back behind him. Turns around and finds the passenger seat occupied.

“Venturing forth at last, I see.”

“I ventured forth plenty.”

“That was only for work. You have been the picture of a hermit since you were dumped, Duck Newton.” Cold adjusts his glasses in the rear-view mirror.

“Have not. And it was mutual.”

“Shall we get out of the car so I can destroy you?”

“We could do that. Or…” he points at the bags, the demon peering into them curiously, “we could take these two bags of snacks to a concert in the park.”

Cold bites his lip. Duck holds his breath, already gearing up his spells in case the demon says no.

A seatbelt clicks, “very well.”

They find a spot under some trees, far back from the crowd. Cold is in his human disguise, but Duck would rather not risk being seen if his tail or horns make an appearance. The concert is all movie soundtracks that Duck doesn’t pay attention to. He’s too busy watching the demon gleefully explore the food he brought (he chose the weirdest desserts and snacks he could find, wanting to give him a taste of things he’d never had) and talking with him about more or less everything.

As they’re getting into the car under the light of the half moon, Cold sighs happily, “we should do this again sometime.”

“Yeah, we could. Just uh, don’t get your hopes up, okay?”

-------------------------------------------------------------

Duck is up to his elbows in the pieces of an IKEA dresser when Cold’s voice comes through the mirror.

“I need to be let in right now please and thank you.”

He sounds pained, so Duck hurries out to the front yard and opens the circle, allowing the demon to pass through. He’s hunched at an odd angle, clutching at his back. Once they’re inside he strips off his coat, revealing a splinter at the base of his neck.

“Shit, what happened?”

“I materialized in the house of a well-prepared witch and was immediately backed into a Hawthorne bush. Lucky I am not a vampire, but gracious it stings.”

“Why come to me?” Duck is already guiding him to the couch.

“I thought you might be able to help. Also it is movie night.”

Duck examines the injury; it’s a small splinter, but the skin is already looking sickly.

“Should be an easy fix. Lemme get my tools and I can get to work.”

------------------------------------------------

Indrid waits patiently for Duck to return, tries not to hiss at him too loudly when he pulls the splinter free. The human works quickly, and soon a tingling salve coats the sore spot.

Rather than pull away, Duck smooths his hands down Indrid’s back, “damn, you’re all knotted up.”

“I was trying not to move too much and aggravate it.”

Duck’s thumbs rub small circles along his back, “here, I can fix that real easy.”

Indrid foresees where his fingers will touch next and let’s his desire overtake his caution. When Ducks hands come down again, he whimpers and wiggles happily.

“Uhhhhh”

“It is my wings. In a way. They exist on another plane when not manifested here, and where you are touching is the place where it feels as you are stroking them.”

“That a good thing?”

“Yes, but you do not need to continue if you do not waAAhnnnt” he gasps as Duck slowly, steadily, runs his fingers over the spot again and again.

The human leans forward, giggling, and whispers in his ear, “you’re purrin’.”

“I am awarerrrrrrrr.” His tail and horns appear, seeming to understand there is no need to hide here. One of Duck’s hands skates up to his head, petting his hair and stroking his horns.

He whines, pushes his head into Duck’s hand for more.

“Is this-”

“No Duck Newton, it is not sexual. It can be, but at the moment it simply feels comforting and pleasurable.” He purrs louder as Duck rubs the base of one horn.

“That’s a good, uh, good demon? Bein’ so patient while I patch him up.” Duck coos.

“Yes.” Indrid whimpers.

“Lookit you, goin all mushy on me, so goddamn cute. Who knew you had it in you.”

“Duck.” Something is coiling through his veins, warm and ecstatic, as the human keeps up his stream of praise.

“Right here, demon of mine, just relax, lemme tend to you, there we go, you’re bein so good, such a charmin demon.”

Tears prick his eyes; he can’t, he can’t handle Duck speaking this way but speaking as if Indrid could be changed out for any one of his kind. He wants to know he means those words for him, he must, the feelings flooding him are incomplete without it and if they remain so he will wither away.

“Indrid, please, call me that.”

“Indrid.” It sounds joyous in that drawl as Duck adds a hint of pressure to his touches, “Indrid, you oughta stop gettin into trouble, oughta just stay here and put your head in my lap.” The human is getting carried away, the fantasies becoming more elaborate, interspersed with his name, until the name itself becomes the litany.

Indrid cries out, the energy in his veins enveloping him utterly for a moment, wings of absolute darkness flashing into view for an instant

He collapses forward, shaking, hoping the thanks pouring from his mouth are intelligible.

“You, uh, you doin’ okay--Oh FUCK!”

Indrid whirls, finds Duck staring at his arm. There are glowing markings on it, blue and black light fading into a facsimile of ink on his skin.

“What did you do?”

“What did I do? What makes you think this has anything to do with me?”

“Because this wasn’t there a minute ago! And you got one too!”

“I…” Indrid gapes at his forearm, where a matching symbol is setting in his skin. “Oh dear.”

“What?”

“It is, ah, well, it is a soul bond.”

“How in the everlovin’ fuck did that happen--wait, fuck, is Indrid your true name?”

“Yes.”

“Shit! I thought you gave me another false one, or I never woulda kept saying it. I ain’t that kind of warlock, I don’t want a personal demon.”

“I am not exactly thrilled either. I cannot return to the underworld, and for the first few days of the bond I will need to stay very close to you. All the same, that was rash of me and I am sorry.”

Duck rubs his forehead, takes a deep breath, “we’ll deal with it tomorrow. Right now, all I wanna do is sleep.”

“I as well. I suspect that took a lot of energy from both of us.”

The human stands, heading off towards the bedroom. As soon as he’s out of sight, pangs pulse through Indrid’s chest.

“Ah, Duck?”

A groan, “yeah, I feel it too. Get in here.”

Indrid hurries to the bed, finds Duck down to his boxers as he turns over the covers.

“I, ah, I can sleep on the floor, or get a blanket for that chair, or lay by your feet.”

Duck pats the bed, “sleepin next to you ain’t nothin’ compared to bein’ soul bonded. Bed feels too big anyway. And none of that by my feet talk; you’re my equal, not my fuckin pet, even if you are a pain in my ass sometimes.”

Indrid crawls in beside him, lays stiffly on his back as the lights go out. After so much contact, his body aches to touch Duck again.

A hand rests in the space between them, and Indrid takes it.

“Duck? I, ah, I am glad that if this had to happen to me, it was you who it happened with. I cannot think of another warlock I would actually enjoy being linked too.”

“Feelin’s mutual.” Duck squeezes his hand, voice gentle.

Indrid rolls to face him, and in the dark he can just make out the slight smile on the warlock’s face.

“Goodnight, Duck.”

A yawn, then, “sleep tight, Indrid.”

#indrid cold/duck newton #Indruck #duck x indrid #meet ugly #demon au

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juliandev0rak · 4 years ago

Note

Dolls and disease for them all? — leila-of-ravens

dolls and disease sounds like it could be an indie band i kind of love it ssjsdfk thank you for the ask lovely laura 💗

fear themed asks

this got so long oops, it’s going under a cut

Dolls: Has your muse ever collected something?

Beatrice: books, white lacey blouses

Freya: she tends to travel light, so she pretty much only collects memories (many of which she wishes she could forget)

Aster: rocks and crystals, she occasionally uses them for magic but mostly they’re just pretty to look at

Stella: she’s quite a patron of the arts and likes to collect art when she can, and she also has quite an extensive closet because she basically collects clothes

Cam: fancy glass bottles for potion making and pressed flowers

Willa: paint brushes and knitting needles, she has too many and she’s always losing them

Cadmus: scars lol .. no but probably swords and other weapons would count as a collection

Disease: What does your muse do on a sick day?

Beatrice

Beatrice doesn’t take sick days 😤👊unless someone tells her to take a break and practically forces her to go lay down she’ll just go about her daily life being miserable and trying to hide it

Freya

She tends to just work though the illness, but in a more healthy way than her sister. Freya still gets stuff done, she just leaves lots of time for breaks and naps

Aster:

Aster loves nothing more than to be doted on by her loved ones when she’s sick, she won’t necessarily ask to be cared for, but if someone brings her tea or keeps her company while she’s resting she’ll be forever grateful- being alone is the worst part of being sick for her

Stella

She just sleeps it off and takes time to do nothing while she gets better, she also makes a tea her mother used to make that’s supposed to cure colds, but its honestly just an entire head of garlic so she tries to avoid it unless she’s really sick

Cam:

They eat soup and nap and generally don’t make a big deal of it beyond just resting until they feel better

Willa

She also eats soup and takes various herbal remedies to help with symptoms

Cadmus:

If he has the time to stay in bed and do nothing he will, but Cadmus gets restless easily and would probably need to go do something after being cooped up for even a few hours resting, so he’d probably go for a ride or train despite being sick

#i have too many of them ahh #thank you for asking about all of them though it was helpful to think about them all #i had to make at least a few references to soup

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soujun-arts · 6 years ago

Photo

Case 4 : Cupcake Madness

Reginald’s 4th Case ! English isn’t my first language so bear with me.

You can read the previous cases @ /~SilverBaron

Neovia, 15:30

I'm laying in my bed, staring at the roof of my room. I've been stuck in there for 3 long and boring days already and it doesn't look like it will be over anytime soon... My name is Reginald Acorn, I'm 20, a grey gelert and I'm currently fighting a cold. I'm a detective working for the police force of Neovia. Three days ago, the boss and I had to hide in front of the abandoned asylum to catch all sorts of thieves, including the most annoying one you can think of. And by the looks of it, thieves aren't the only things I caught that night ... But, the good news is, we were able to recover a stolen locket and give it back to Vincent Von Verzweiflung. The look on his face when he saw the "treasure" inside was well worth this nasty cold. I'm getting all emotional just by thinking of it !

It reminds me of how I miss Mama ... When I was young and sick, she would make me the most delicious of cocoa with some marshmallow floating in it. It was delicious and helped distract me from whatever sickness I was suffering under at that time...

A loud knock on my door makes me go back to reality. The doors opens to reveal an enormous darigan skeith, engulfed in tightly fitted trench-coat. A hat is deeply screwed on his head, letting only small tufts of grey hair around the sides of his head show.

_"Oh good, you're still alive kid !" he says, laughing loudly and slapping his stomach.

_"My wife made this soup for you. It's extra spicy but it should help free your stuffed nose." he grumbles as he lays down the bright red tureen on my table.

This tall and heavy Skeith is my boss, "Big Skeith". His name is actually Marcus Worsley but everyone calls him Big Skeith at the station so being the new guy, I just went with the flow. He's a bit rude, has a very loud mouth but I assure you that you could never hope for a better chief of police. He also kind of became a father figure for me since I've never met my own father... I respect him a whole lot ! _"Oh, almost forgot, I also got you this, kid." he says as he puts down a small green bottle on my night-stand. "Should help fight the cold, at least, that's what the pharmacist told me. And if it doesn't work, I can always arrest him!" Big cackles at his own joke like it was the funniest thing he ever said. I smile, not because of the joke, but because I'm genuinely happy he's there for me.

_"Okay, I must leave now, I have a job to do yaknow. I'll stop by later tomorrow to check on you kiddo, so sleep well and eat like there's no tomorrow. See ya !" he yells as he storms out of my flat. Big's appearances are always something.

I taste Big's wife's soup and it's absolutely delicious. No wonder he keeps on praising her cooking everyday ! I'll have to ask him to thank her for me, when he comes back to check on me. It really is spicy though, I thought, fighting the tears coming in my eyes. I glance at the medicine bottle ... I've always hated medicine and mama had to trick me with cookies every single time to get me to take them. The bottle is really pretty and the liquid is bubbling inside. The eagerness to go back to my cases is stronger than my disgust for medicines. I drink a spoonful of it and promptly go back to sleep.

Neovia, 7:15 am

I let out a big yawn and stretch while still laying in bed. The pharmacist kept his promises as I really feel fresh and ready to tackle whatever challenge comes my way ! The only weird thing is that I don't feel hungry at all, and if you know me, you know I always crave a huge breakfast. Thinking nothing more of it, I jump in the shower and let the warm water drench my fur. I wash my grey hair that is a bit sticky for some reason, plus it really needs a trim, they're getting way too long...

Once I've dried myself, I dress with my usual work attire and feel tremendous joy at the thought of finally being able to get back to work. I step outside and let the freezing air fill my lungs. Yes, to another awesome day of investigation !

Neovia, 8:00am

_"Oh hey kid, you're back !" shouts Big as I enter the police station. "Guess that potion and the soup worked well uh ?" _"Yes, they did ! Thank you for taking care of me boss ! And please thank your wife for me, she really is a talented cook !

_"Ahaha, I know, right !! Well, since you're up and ready, how about you join Lenny. He's going to investigate a theft and break-in at the Crumpet Monger.

_"Sure boss ! I'll be going !"

I've never had the occasion to work with Lenny before. Lenny is, well, a Lenny. He's a weird mix of faerie and grey colours and looks always completely depressed. Maybe it's the fact that he is bald that makes him so upset ? He's very nonchalant and walks as fast as snail. He also speaks in a monotonous voice and I always feel like sleeping when I hear him talk.

Neovia, 9:00am

Finally, I can see the Crumpet Monger ! The shop is actually only 20 mins away by foot from the station but Lenny being so slow, it almost took us a WHOLE hour to get there. And since I'm still the newbie, I can't say anything. The Crumpet Monger shop is relatively small but it sells the best baked goods in all Neovia ! A cupcake is drawn right over the porch roof, and just underneath, an elegant door that opens upon a world of delicious treats ! As we get closer, I can see that the door was fractured but the frontage is thankfully intact. Lenny pushes the door and a bell rings inside. We were standing in the entrance when a mountain of hair came rushing out of the kitchen like a storm. Underneath all that hair, a meerca.

_"Oh so yer finally here ! Thank goodness ! As yer can see, we were robbed last night. All ther cakes, scones, pies, tarts and everything in between, gone !" she shrieks, visibly upset.

_"I see." ponders Lenny, completely out of it. _"Did they steal anything else, like the cash register ?" I asked, ready to do my job.

_"Well, yer see, no they didn't. They only stole and ate whatever we had in there.

But ... shouldn't the shop be empty of pastries during the night since you make fresh ones everyday ?" I say, pointing at a small sign saying so by the counter.

_"Oh yer, we do ! In these kind of jobs, we work at lot at night. My main baker was working tonight, made a whole storm of pastries yer see to set the shop for ther morning. He then left for a short while to see our supplier as per usual yer see. It was during that short time ther shop was ransacked." she lets her arm fall flat on her sides. "We lost a lot of money tonight yer see...

_"I'm very sorry Mrs Crumpet. We will do our best to wrap up things quickly so you can re-open again. Would it be possible to talk with your main baker ?" I glance at Lenny as I speak, hoping he would step in to take the reigns but he was busy dozing off with a bubble popping out of his beak. Charming.

_"Sure yer can darling ! Aaron please come yer !" she shouts.

Coming out of the kitchen, wiping his hands covered in flour on a towel, a young Maraquan Gelert. He's of average height, has a long and weird tail with a, what, fin on it ? He is purple and his hair, which kinda look like algae, is greenish. He wears a big cooking hat on his head and a fancy looking uniform with a star on it. Around his neck, a red neckerchief.

He holds out his hand and I shake it amicably, this guy seems to be really friendly.

_"Hello, name's Reginald Acorn and here's my colleague Lenny Dot. We're here to investigate and we'd like to hear what you have to say please.

_"Thanks for coming, both of you. My name is Aaron Watson, I'm the main baker here. I think you won't have much trouble finding the culprit.

Really ? How so ?" my ears rising up in surprise.

_"Look at this, they left their prints all over the display cases. Should be easy enough to find, no ?

I get closer to the case and indeed, Aaron was telling the truth, you could see distinct prints all over it. I glance at the few leftover cupcakes there, suddenly feeling hungry.

_"Hmm yes, this is all very importance evidence...

_"Hey Regie, I hope you're talking about the prints and not the cupcakes" cackles Lenny, suddenly awake.

_"Of course I am !" I yell angry he found me out. "Dust for the prints instead of dozing off, that'd be helpful" I say, still sulking.

Alright, alright, let the pro do his job baby." he shouts proudly while holding a weird pose, showing off.

_"I really hope you catch that thief, but in all those short years I've worked here, it's really the first time this happens.." adds Aaron, rubbing his chin with his hand, still in disbelief.

_"No offence here, but you seem really chill for someone who had all his hard work eaten without being paid for...

_"Oh, that's because he took out his anger on yer poor innocent dough sweetheart" giggles Mrs Crumpet.

_"Boss, please !"

_"Okay I'm done dusting the prints and taking pictures here" says Lenny, striking another weird pose. "We will have the results tomorrow or so, so you can get cleaning your fantastic shop my beautiful darling." he adds, kissing Mrs Crumpet hand in a what I assume was supposed to be a gentlemen like gesture.

_"Oh, Oh, my, my, what a charming gentleman you are Mr Dot !" says Mrs Crumpet, blushing.

_"Urhg, disgusting." whispers Aaron while laughing slightly. "Then, I'll get back to work, thank you for coming."

Neovia 13:30

I'm sitting at my desk, eating my sandwich. It took us forever to get back here, as Lenny took his sweet, sweet time. Sometimes I really wonder how come this guy still had a job considering how slow he is in everything he does, but Big told me that he's the best when it comes to little details and all the other stuff we tend to overlook. He's currently studying the prints we found and comparing them to the files we have. Whenever someone decides to move in Neovia, they're obligated to give their prints as well, I'm not really sure why, but I guess after being a cursed town for years, they prefer to use some caution. I had to do it too when I filed all the paperwork in the City Hall. I swallow the last bite of my meal when Lenny comes rushing out from the lab and sprint right into the boss's office. How weird it is to see someone as slow as a snail go as fast as a cybunny ... I guess he did find something. Not two minutes later, Big yells for me to come to his office right now. Why do I feel like I'm not gonna like this ?

_"Kid, we have a match for the prints you guys found." says Big, dropping the file on his desk. He turns around to face the window, turning his back to Lenny and I. "The culprit is a Gelert.

_"Oh, really ? Is it that annoyingly annoying jewel thief ? Though, I wonder why he would steal cupcakes..." I say, rubbing my cheek.

_"No, praise Fyora, this guy is innocent for once. Though, I wish it was him right about now...

Knowing how Big despises that thief, I feel the anxiety rushing through my body.

_"That thief never leaves any prints behind, that's why we have so much trouble identifying him... Reginald, don't you have anything you want to say to me ?" he says calmly, turning back to face me again.

_"No.. I don't understand, I haven't done anything wrong..

_"Kid, the prints are yours. Your prints are all over the display cases of the Crumpet Monger shop. Lenny even found some grey hairs that belong to you on the scene, hair that were covered in frosting. You are the cupcake thief." he looks at me, visibly disappointed.

_"But ... I haven't left my flat yesterday.." I cry, upset I could tarnish my reputation this way. "I ate the soup you brought me, took the medicine as well and went to bed. I swear I didn't do anything wrong..." I state, still sobbing. Disappointing Big is one of the last things I want to do...

_"Look Kid, I know you, I know you're not a thief nor a liar. There has to be an explication, and we will find it." he says, putting his clawy hand on my shoulder. "Oh and wipe your nose, I don't want any snot on my desk!" he adds, smiling snarkily. "Let's go on a walk, I think you need some fresh hair. Thanks Lenny for your work, you can go back in the lab work on whatever you have left to do."

Neovia 14:00

_"Okay, let's go to the pharmacy and see what the guy has to say. I don't feel like you're lying like I said, but how come every evidence found incriminates you..." he grumbles as we walk in the main street.

_"I don't know, I'm really lost here... I don't remember a thing, but I do recall not feeling hungry this morning and my hair being sticky when I woke up." I follow him, looking at my shoes, still feeling shameful.

_"We're here." he says as he pushes the door open.

_"Oh hey it's you !" points a young Zafara with his head full of blond and spiky hair. "How is it doing man ?

_"I'm not your man, kid.

_"Yeah, yeah, what can I do for ya ?

_"I want "ya" to tell me more about this medicine I got from you yesterday. Are there any side effects I should have been told about when you gave it to me ?" asks Big, pushing his finger into the zafara's coat.

_"It was groovy eh man ?!" he says, still pointing his fingers at us. "I think I'm gonna slap some sense into this idiot, if you know what I mean." whispers Big in my ear.

Oh, Oh...

_"Stop being such a moron Arnold !" yells a middle-aged Kacheek, hitting his head with a stack of paper. "Ugh, I swear to Fyora, you're really an idiot. Please excuse my employee sirs. What can I do for you ?

Big Skeith, after a glance at my pathetic face, decides to explain the situation to the Kacheek himself. She closes her eyes as she listens to him. _"Uh, Uh, I see. I do have an explanation for you, I believe. Did you wife happen to add some clawmatoes in her soup ?

_"Yes, it's one of her favourite things to put in there. Why ? Is there an issue with it ?

_"As stupid as it sounds, yes actually. I do not know the full details, but they contain some enzymes or something that react quite badly with the cold medicine your friend here took. They can induce sleepwalking tendencies and cravings when mixed together. Since the poor guy doesn't remember a thing, I believe that's what happen. What were the odds though ?

_"I see, thank you Ma'am ! Please keep slapping some sense into your apprentice.

_"I will good sir, have a nice day, sorry for the trouble !

Neovia 14:30

_"Wait for me here, I won't be long kid." says Big gently slapping my shoulder as he opens the door of the Crumpet Monger shop.

I'm leaning against the façade, still unsure about what's going to happen. Am I going to got to jail ? How are Mrs Crumpet and Mr Watson going to react ? They seem really nice to me and I really don't want them to hate me. As I'm wondering what's going to happen, I hear the bell and the door opens. It's Aaron.

_"Rough day, eh ?" he says as he leans against the shop next to me.

_"Yeah, pretty much. I assume you know everything." I whisper, still full of shame.

_"Yes, I do."

The sharp answer makes me shiver, but I didn't feel any anger in it. _"Look, as upset as I am, we know it's not your fault. Your boss said he was going to pay for the damaged door.

_"Really ? But what about the cupcakes, I mean, I ate all your stock...

_"You sure did!" he cries in laughter. "I can't believe you ate all that without feeling sick, you have some strong stomach kid !

_"Hey, don't call me kid, you're barely older than I am !" I manage to utter as I start to laugh with him.

_"Now that's better ! We have agreed on something with your boss. We're not gonna ruin a promising career, so hear me out. When you're not working your usual job, you'll come and work part time with us, that includes cleaning, deliveries, tasting my new recipes and other little things. That's how you're going to pay your debt to us. Does that sound fair to you ?" he grins.

_"You bet, thank you so much !" I say sobbing, finally relieved from the tension in my shoulders.

Neovia 21:30

I lay down my pen on my desk. I desperately needed to write a letter to mama to tell her everything. After that chat with Aaron, we came back inside the shop were Mrs Crumpet gave me a delicious crêpe to cheer me up. We ended up having a good laugh over this unlikely story and I'm going to start working part time with them tomorrow. I'm really eager to make it up to them. Once again, Big Skeith was there for me, and I can't thank him enough. He talked food with Mrs Crumpet during what felt like an eternity but it was a peaceful moment. As for Aaron, despite him being rightfully angry for his destroyed goods, he opened up to me and showed me how passionate he is about his job. I felt like we were the same on that point. I really wish I can become his friend because I really enjoyed his company. I better go to bed now, I have quite a doozy of a day tomorrow !

#neopets #neolodge #reginald acorn #writing #gelert

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trvelyans-archive · 7 years ago

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For Yvette Hawke - 9, 12, 16, 31, 32, 34, 47, 50?

putting this under a read more bc it’s so long…

9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals?

yvette prefers bigger, stronger animals to smaller ones - she doesn’t particularly care for bunnies, cats, etc. but she lOVES mabari and had one for a while as a child named mud. she gets along well with dogs and big animals bc she loves them so much and theyre so useful!

12. What is their favourite food?

yvette loves bread. so much. she carries at least 2 loaves of bread with her at all times and just picks away at them constantly. she also loves meaty stews and soups

16. Do they collect anything? What do they do with it? Where do they keep it?

yvette has a knife collection of like. small throwing knives that she steals off of peoples bodies when she kills them? enemies quite often have throwing knives in their pockets and she steals them all. as of the end of da2 she probably has about 30 different throwing knives and brings them around with her depending on what seems most useful and who she’s fighting. she keeps them in a chest under her bed in hightown

31. Do they drink? What are they like drunk? What are they like hungover? How do they act when other people are drunk or hungover? Kind or teasing?

yvette is a brutally honest/sad drunk. it’s literally the only time she shares her emotions or lets anything go? she mainly bottles up her feelings bc it gives her more of a drive when she fights but when she gets drunk she lets it all go. after fenris, she cries about him basically every night in varric’s room at the hanged man and then doesn’t think about it the next day, but she does feel a lil bit lighter.

she doesnt really drink much, actually. she just drinks when shes feeling REALLY sad and doesnt have anything to fight. or she’s already fought through everyone possible in lowtown

32. What do they dress like? What sorta shops do they buy clothes from? Do they wear the fashion that they like? What do they wear to sleep? Do they wear makeup? What’s their hair like?

yvette is very practical. she wears clothes she can always fight comfortably in and offer protection - she wears thick leathers, cottons, furs, etc. she just wears whatever is comfortable and helps her fight in.

when she goes to sleep, she either sleeps naked when she’s alone, or wears v thin dresses. she likes covering herself with all the blankets possible when she sleeps but then she gets hot really easily cuz she moves around alot, so she’s gotta stay cool somehow…

yvette doesnt wear makeup. pssh. who has time for that.

yvette has rather thick curly hair that she ties into 2 braids on each side of her head. when she’s at home, she has it in 1 or a bun - post-kirkwall, she cuts off her hair entirely, however, and just has it down to her shoulders, which she likes tbh

34. What is their body type? How tall are they? Do they like their body?

yvette is very pear shaped! she has a thin waist, small breasts, strong but thin arms, and then a fat ass and thick thighs. she stands at about 5′3 although she wishes she was taller! and she likes her body because it’s very strong and muscular and she feels very powerful and capable of just. doing shit

47. How do they act in a formal occasion? What do they think of black tie wear?

yvette thinks balls and dances and parties are stupid. like. she doesn’t go to any because she thinks they’re so dumb? she values honesty and the game is stupid bc everyone are just filthy liars all the time and go behind people’s back, etc.. however she has one fancy outfit that she only showed varric ONCE and then put it away forever bc she felt so bare compared to her armour. she still has it in her dresser in hightown, tho

50. If they could only take one bag of stuff somewhere with them: what would they pack? What do they consider their essentials?

yvette’s bag would be a really big one. inside of it would be: her whole throwing knife collection (30 knives), her trusty waterskin, her knit stockings that she’s had for years, at least 4 loaves of bread, a red ribbon from her childhood that she’s always kept, some various dried vegetables, bandages, potion bottles, and some bones in case she meets some wild dogs

thank u for asking!

#ask

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