#urlae

[djdjcic]

[ruhibeyler]

Sığacık | İzmir.

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[123nazli]

[pinkinternetpizza]

[ruderubicante]

Gods I love this so much thank you again!!! TAT

Late Winter in Divinity's Reach

Summary: Winter and Urlae are invited to celebrate the Lunar New Year's festival in Divinity's Reach.

Characters: Winterlayt, Urlae Summer, Lily Summer, Verdanzy

Notes: Winter's POV (2nd person); fluff; 1.2k words; this is my 2024 secret santa red envelope gift for @ruderubicante! happy new year!

—

The charr have this theory about humans, that they insist on being so noisy all the time to make up for their dull sense of hearing. You’re inclined to believe it. You’ve only just arrived in the Crown Pavilion and the cacophony of firecrackers and joyous shrieks bombards you from every angle, unrelenting. This was a bad idea.

“This was a bad idea,” Urlae remarks, echoing your thoughts. “We should leave.”

Well, now you obviously can’t leave. That would be letting him win.

“You can leave, if you’d like,” you offer, perfectly cordial. You even give him this sort of sympathetic look you’ve been practicing.

Urlae sees right through it. “You can drop the holier-than-thou act. I know you hate this racket just as much as I do.”

Your reply is as pleasant as spun sugar and just as substantial. “Hm? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” A gaggle of human teenagers rush by, and for some reason, every single one of them feels the need to knock their bony elbows into your legs as they pass like you’re some Dragon Bash piñata. “Ow,” you intone with the same lofty cadence.

Urlae crosses his arms, unimpressed. “Winter, I can see your eye twitching.”

“You should get yours checked then, Doctor.”

“You’re acting like a huge prick right now.”

“And is that your personal or professional opinion—”

“Dad! You made it!” A new voice interrupts your bickering. Urlae turns faster than you, eyes scanning in the direction of the familiar shout until he spots a young charr squeezing her way out of a sea of humans. The tension bleeds from his shoulders as his daughter makes her way over to the pair of you.

“Oh,” he murmurs, a fond smile stretching across his face, “Lily, you look stunning.”

That, at least, you can agree on. Her hanbok is gorgeous in its simplicity, consisting of a pale green chima, an even paler yellow jeogori, and as she gets closer, you spy little white flowers embroidered on the goreum. Combined with her soft, well-brushed fur, she looks like the last frost before spring, in spite of her namesake.

Speaking of spring. Verdanzy is next out of the crowd, the blue-and-orange ribbons of their hanfu fluttering wildly behind them in their hurry. Their beizi is light and delicate, long sleeves billowing around their body like a cloud.

“Hi, Uncle! Hi, Dad!” they cry, and now it’s your turn to smile. Which, to everyone else, looks like an infinitesimal uptick of the corner of your mouth. It seems like a hassle for them, having to constantly dodge lanterns and paper dragons and the occasional stray sparkler because of their height, but when they skid to a halt in front of you, it’s clear that nothing short of an apocalypse could ruin this day for them.

“Wow, Uncle,” they start, breathless, “you look great!”

Pleased, Urlae gives them a short bow. He’s wearing an áo dài himself, a long-sleeved peach-colored tunic embroidered with matching blossoms over black trousers. The whole ensemble is made of silk, and the reflection of the warm lantern lights in the fabric creates an illusion of luminescence.

“Thank you, Verdanzy. I’m glad at least you two understand the importance of dressing well,” he says, shooting you a sidelong glance.

You look down at your extra lumpy sweater. It’s a thing of beauty—in your humble and unbiased opinion—made of eye-catching (though some would say eye-searing) red and yellow wool. “I’m told these are the traditional colors. Very auspicious.”

“But not traditional dress,” Urlae says, picking at a loose bit of yarn on your shoulder. You slap his hand away.

“When did you get here? Have you eaten? Just in case you haven’t, we got something for you!” Lily manages all in one breath. “Here!”

She shoves a paper carton under your noses. Yours, literal, and Urlae’s, figurative. The gentle reminder that you two can’t eat regular food dies on your tongue when you open the container.

“...Is it human custom to eat raw meat during this festival?” you ask instead, staring down at the chilled pile of—you sniff the meat—uncooked pork.

“Nope!” Verdanzy chimes in, “We just asked if we could have some of the, uh, what’s it called?”

“Bánh chưng,” Lily provides helpfully.

“That. We asked for some of the filling before they cooked it. They didn’t even charge us.”

“You’re kind to think of us,” you say, taking the small wooden skewer that Verdanzy holds out to you. The raw pork strips are soft and marbled with fat, yielding under your teeth with surprising ease. Seasoned well with salt and pepper, but unlikely to make you sick later. It’s not bad. Urlae gives you a knowing look as he chews slowly on his own meat skewer. It’s rare the two of you get the opportunity to actually enjoy the food you eat.

“Have you two been enjoying the festival?” Urlae asks after swallowing. 

“Yeah!” Verdanzy nods fervently. “We’ve been having lots of fun at the game tables. I think one of the dealers is using loaded dice, though. I lost a handful of silver there.”

You reach for your gun.

“Dad.”

“That was humor,” you clarify, holstering your pistol. What, did they think you were actually going to shoot someone for your kid? …Hm. Unconvincing even in your own thoughts.

“I liked your joke, Uncle Winter,” Lily reassures. “And you two are just in time for the lion dancers! They’re about to start, c’mon!”

You and Urlae are unceremoniously dragged through a throng of people and all the way to the front of the crowd. Some people glare up at Verdanzy, who can’t help their height, but quickly find other places to look after catching a glimpse of your glower. A crash of cymbals and rhythmic drumming pierces the air, and cheers erupt as costumed dancers bound into the middle of the circle.

They don’t look like any lions you’ve ever seen, but what do you know? Perhaps Canthan lions are much more friendly and colorful than their Elonian counterparts. Admittedly, they’re growing on you. The puppetry is impressive, and for most of the performance you even forget that it’s two human dancers under there, and not one giant, fuzzy beast.

A little ways to your right, Lily urges a reluctant Urlae to offer a cabbage to the lion. “Quick, Dad, he’s coming back around, hold it out! He’s not going to eat it if he can’t see it—”

The lion considers the offering for just long enough that you can see Urlae’s patience wearing thin, then takes the whole head of cabbage into its mouth, making a show of chewing the vegetable with great vigor. Abruptly, it stands up on its hind legs, opens its mouth—

“This is my favorite part,” Verdanzy whispers.

—and begins spitting cabbage leaves back into the crowd. Before you can move out of the way, Verdanzy holds their arm up above your head, protecting you from being pelted by the chewed-up cabbage. To your endless amusement, Urlae is not so lucky. As soon as he peels a cold, wet leaf off his face, he’s immediately hit with another one. And another one.

“It’s supposed to bring good fortune, apparently,” Verdanzy explains, grinning. They look down at you, eyes bright with unrestrained mirth. You would give the world for them to be this carefree all the time.

“Is that so?” you say instead of voicing that thought, “I suppose I am feeling rather fortunate right now.”

“Yeah? That’s good. Happy New Year’s, Dad.”

“Happy New Year’s.”

[umutrblg]

[lucindaspartnerrealandtrue]

you should draw Donna and Logan's family if you want to draw multiple characters. they are Yip, Lello, Rollo, Luca, and Urla. Lello and Luca's wiki pages are tragic

Family Portrait(they've been there for over two hours...)

Well. Didn't this take a while. Bit it's done! Thank you, anon, for requesting! Never drew these guys before! I couldn't justify having Urla here, soo you get a doodle under the cut!

[Art Requests are Open]

I thought it'd be silly if she was a fish person too....while also being, you know, the crazy cat lady..

Tagging: @gumbootrambles @the-martyrfication-of-the-matron

[cafunes-world]

Urla,sanat sokağı

[buscandoelparaiso]

TERZA PUNTATA DELLA SPALLETTI CAM

[djdjcic]

[ragazzoarcano]

“La ragione non urla,

la ragione si siede ed aspetta.”

— S. Randall

[the-martyrfication-of-the-matron]

I love how my speculative stuff is like ‘either Donna’s family was secretly rich, Donna’s mother married into a lower social class or Dr Doctor was up to something sketchy because there’s no way Donna is in the Babe House and Urla lives in her little Cat Shack… and then Dr Doctor is a Trained Physician…’

It just doesn’t line up, that’s all I’m saying

[123nazli]

[kedisizasla]

12 Ekim 2024, Urla, Pietra Cafe

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