#you will rip wavy haired Leo from my cold dead hands

[fr00tb0wl]

(WIP) BETCHA THOUGHT I FORGOT HUH 💪👀

(I promise I didn’t, I’ve missed him terribly )

[royal-writer]

Challenger

sometimes you gotta put a bitch in their place

-

“I can’t believe this is who you hire for experts, Asher.”

Pretending that he had not overheard the whispered fury of the man’s voice, Amon settled himself on one knee before the dead body. Who could blame the old man for his words? He’d thought the very same thing when he’d begrudgingly employed these over-exuberant strangers in his territory to reclaim his manor. Then it had been a hopeless cause that he dared to believe could be solved so that he could return to his estate once more.

It took time to understand their character, and each of their strengths. As individuals maybe they had their niche, but were otherwise small cogs. Together, they formed clockwork; each piece of the puzzle put together to make something more spectacular. Stronger than before, when they could actually function as a coherent team.

Reaching for the man’s gaping mouth, the nobleman carefully removed the crushed petals of the bloom left behind by the assassin. It had already began to wilt; making the edges brown, but the color was still sharp and vibrant elsewhere. A spiraling hue, from pink to red and orange hues the further out from the center its petals stretched. Lengthy yellow pollinating anthers in the center had already collapsed as the flower began its decaying process.

“I haven’t paid them a single coin, I swear,” one man hissed back to another.

Ignoring the rising tone of bickering, Amon grimaced to himself. He turned a glance over to the paladin who had taken a knee closest to him, but he didn’t seem to catch the gesture. Abernathy was grimacing prominently as he studied the deceased’s wounds; clearly made by some sort of blade judging by the slash and stab marks.

“Careful what you touch there,” a deep rumbling voice warned from behind.

Caught off guard, Amon looked over his shoulder at the younger man staring down at him. The lad crossed his arms tightly before his fine expressively colorful sleeveless outfit and stuck out his chin with youthful arrogance.

He snorted. “If you’re concerned about the planets toxicology rest assured: it’s harmless.”

One short, fuzzy haired elf leaned over the corpse uncomfortably in his space. “Ooooh. It’s pretty. What is it?”

Leaning away from Ravamora, Amon cleared his throat and uncomfortably straightened his jerkin. “It’s a Brimstone Phoenix. They’re a very rare flower, only growing in volcanic ashes in a few places in the world.”

“What’s one doing why out here?” Penimra wondered aloud on all of their behalves. “There’s no volcanoes around here for thousands of miles. What sort of custom tells you to shove rare flowers in some dead guy’s mout,h anyway?”

“I think it’s some sort of cult sign, not some sort of honor, Pen,” Adela gently whispered, her eyes round and wide.

“Or ritualistic, in some manner,” Abe agreed softly, staring into the departed’s clouded green eyes. “It is an identifying calling card though. Have any of you seen any other bodies like this?”

Three of the four men huddled around them shook their heads slowly. The fourth; and youngest of them with his arms still crossed, merely pouted like a sulking child. He unfolded his arms to ruffle his long wavy hair absently with a hand, the startling cyan color of his glowing eyes moving over each of the party members. The freckles on his deep chocolate skin shimmered faintly like miniature stars scattered across his body; a trait of clear angelic bloodlines.

“This would be the second I’ve heard of, actually. First I’ve seen, but the Fentonwithers’s further out of town called in the constable a few weeks back about a strange dead body.”

“We need to pay them a visit,” Sulhadur declared, quick to stand.

“Speakin’ of pay,” coughed an older one, wringing his hands. “We ah… We don’t really have the means to fund you upfront-”

“The mayor should though-” another quickly jumped in.

A comically well-timed screech of cawing laughter escaped the resident crow, and Amon flinched at the ghastly sound. Adela shrank back a bit sheepishly, trying to shush K’varr from his dark humor. All of the surrounding townsfolk looked startled from the sudden volume compared to previous whispers.

“Paynet will not be necessary,” Pri’cha reassured them gently, clasping their small hands together. “Nee have the gratitude, and that is thanks enough. Pelor will shine Their light upon us for our deeds, and that is fortune enough.”

“See granddad,” one man quietly murmured, nudging an older folk. “They’re just helpful travelers; no pay necessary.”

“There’s always pay to be had, boy,” the old man coldly replied, his sharp eyes meeting Amon’s as he glanced quizzically up to the whispering pair. Embarrassed to be caught in conversation, the younger of the two gossiping men turned away, but the elder held his eyes like a challenge.

A twisted feeling curled in his stomach, and Amon turned away. There was something familiar and malicious about the man’s approach that rubbed raw an old stinging wound.

Standing up to brush off her slacks at his other side, Essätha let out a heavy sigh. “How far’s travel on horseback are the Fentonwither’s?”

One of the men rubbed their hairy chin. “Only a couple hours; shouldn’t be a long trek. I wouldn’t go out past dark mind you, just to be safe.”

“We’ll be fine,” Sulhadur assured the man. Amon almost had to laugh at the calm enthusiasm of the Dragonborn. Out of the whole of the party, only himself and Sul lacked the power to see well in the dark, and he was boosting so proudly they’d be fine?

The young Aasimar; pushing back his wavy hair so his striking eyes and the angular lines of his face were easy to view, stepped forward with an air of importance. “There should be room in our barn for the lot of you-”

“A barn?!” Penimra shrieked, mortified and balking as he interrupted. “I’d rather risk the rickety wagon ride!”

“We could probably accommodate some of you,” the young man irritably countered. The warlock high-elf instantly inclined himself in the well-built man’s direction, but his eyes moved to train directly upon Essie with a smile full of teeth and smoldering eyes.

“A fantastic rare beauty so fine should not be designated to sleep with the riffraff, after all.”

The absurdity! The tasteless form! Amon’s jaw locked; his stomach twisting at the nerve of the man. Such poor manners; coquetting before a corpse.

To the relief of his rising blood pressure, Essie took a meek step back and out of the range of the man’s body as he leaned into her orbit. She cleared her throat respectfully, tilting her head.

“That’s very kind of you, but as part of the riffraff, I am inclined to stay with them.”

“My apologies!” The man sang, raising his hand with a short laugh. “I meant the animals in the barn ma’am, not your fine compatriots here. I understand that Yuan-Ti prefer the warm, do they not? I haven’t met any in person.”

He could see the immediate reaction in Essätha’s posture at the mention of her heritage. She shrank further back, her lips in a tightly forced smile. It was as fake as the man’s attempts to play cool his intentions.

“Leave her be, Leo, we got other priorities.”

The Aasimar shrugged nonchalantly, turning to follow one of the other men. “I’m available, if you change your mind. I will happily lend my warmth to a cold blooded babe anytime.”

His ears were ringing. Amon’s teeth locked, grinding, a muzzled dog ready to rip off the restraints and bite. The innocence of the man’s playful wink as he blindly ignored the discomfort in Essätha’s posture had his head pounding with the beat of his racing pulse. She didn’t look just uneasy and insulted now; she looked humiliated and miserable.

Was he overreacting? He planted his feet, trying to assess the need to see blood and feel throbbing pain in his knuckles from hitting the man square in the jaw. He couldn’t think straight. All he wanted to do was hurt, and be hurt.

He’d insulted and hurt Essie’s feelings.

Amon glanced to her, looking for something. Approval?

She was staring off to the side, weary and clammed up.

It was a challenge for her heart. A poorly executed one, but still an opposition.

The nobleman swallowed the rolling anger that threatened to claw out of his throat like a battle cry. It was a battle worth having.

Reaching out for Essie’s hand, he cleared his throat. “Are you alright…?”

The relief in her smile undid him. She reached for his hand, speaking softly, “Yes. Unsettled, but okay. Thank you, m’lord.”

She stepped closer. While the buzzing background noise of debate and questioning continued between some of the gentleman, Essätha slid his arm around her waist to press into the open space at his side. It was enough to labor his breathing, her hand overlapping his, her hip pressed to his own, the smell of honey and flowers in her hair.

He caught sight of the Aasimar; eyes darting from the man he was speaking with towards them, scowling.

Feeling a peculiar swell of pride and confidence, Amon pressed Essätha a little tighter into his side, whispering softly in her ear, “Is this okay?”

“Mmmm,” she hummed gratefully, leaning her head against his collarbone.

“Do you want me to go speak with him? You deserve an apology.”

“Thank you, but no, m’lord. This is fine.”

Grimacing, the Aasimar was quick to turn away.

A small victory. Amon relished it regardless, resting his chin lightly atop her head while pretending to tune back into discussion. He was still fighting to find his own worthiness to earn her love. He wasn’t going to let Essätha slip out of his grasp without at least putting his best forward and hoping that, in the end, she choose him, for he’d already chosen her.

[yellow-mapleleaves]

Immortal

an immortal skeleton discussing the intense highs and lows of life

*the skeleton character doesn’t have a specific gender, so I used they/them pronouns

An icy cold water drop that plummeted from the leaking roof of the cabana was enough to make Neoma’s body temperature drop lower. Realistically, anyone’s blood would have run cold if their eyes caught a glimpse of the soulless character that had planted their skeletal feet next to her small frame.

Their sharp heels clicked against the termite infested floorboards as they rocked their weightless body back and forth, all the while craning their neck upwards towards the invisible heavens.

The two gaping, empty black holes on their skinless face, that were usually filled with multi-coloured eyes on living beings, stayed deserted with dust collecting at the edges. Neoma wasn’t able to decipher whether they were capable of eyesight or if they were suffering in the insipidity of eternal obscurity.

Their skinless hands lay on the wooden railing of the cabana where the two melancholy individuals silently stood, mourning their own recent low-spirited lives. Their existence was like two overflowing rock pools on a forever abandoned beach.

Neoma’s breath seeped into the air as it escaped her chapped lips, floating off into the cool night and falling asleep against the sky. The hot steam shifted into doves as it floated away from them both.

A creaking sound cleaved through the ringing silence like a knife slicing through skin. The creature had tilted their skull sideways towards Neoma, black pits of nothingness beaming into the side of her head, which was coated with thick layers of murky silver hair. She had wavy milk-stained strands reaching to a couple of centimetres below her waist. The moon was jealous of the light she reflected.

The skeleton held their searing gaze upon her locks. They grew envious, for they wished their sunset pink hair remained with them after their woeful demise. They distinctly remember the perplexing amount of compliments they would receive each day aimed towards their coloured mane. Faces were painted with dumbfounded expressions when they explained that the unnatural colour had remained with them since birth.

It complimented their luminous eyes. Their now empty, black eye sockets once encased magnificent, viridescent orbs that appeared to hold an entire rainforest behind them, waiting to be explored.

“What do you think?”

Neoma was stunned to hear such a human sound escape from the remains of their mouth. She had expected to hear a more uncanny sound, like the kind of eerie noise made when scraping sharp knives against one another. But instead, their voice could only be elucidated as profound as a tigers growl, but as friendly as a newborn cub. Though, Neoma wasn’t able to decipher if their voice had a more masculine or more feminine tone. It seemed to incorporate both sexes stereotypical voice traits, creating a gorgeous, melodic tone.

Neoma shifted her gaze from the neglected landscape towards the towering, emaciated figure. Her ocean eyes locked onto their non-existent ones, staring into the darkness of their inner skull as they waited for an answer.

“What do you mean?” she murmured almost inaudibly.

“I mean the sky of course! It’s purely superb isn’t it?” the skeleton exclaimed. They threw their skinny hands upwards in excitement, gesturing towards the shimmering firmament.

“What would I have given to be carried up there by dead spirits instead of staying on this floating rock.”

“I mean, yeah. I guess it is pretty elegant,” Neoma stated whilst fiddling with the sleeves of her plum coloured jacket. She beamed at the emaciated hands that were placed on the railing, tapping slightly in anticipation.

“How long have you been alive for?” the creature asked, not taking their empty gaze off the lustrous stars.

Neoma scrunched up her nose in confusion.

“How long have I been alive for? My whole life, I guess?” she answered, turning her head towards their face.

“Yeah, I know that?” they said matter-of-factly. “I apologize, I forgot you’re only mortal. How old are you?”

Neoma held a face of confusion before answering their question.

“I’m… twenty-two years old,” she responded.

Talking to this creature was exhausting. Their speech seemed much more elegant and intelligent, like they were from another time.

“Oh! Wow, you’re very young! You have a lot of years ahead of you. Wow, I wish I was still that little,” they said, shifting closer to her, clearly excited.

Most people when approached by a humanoid creature with no skin would rush to find an escape, but Neoma felt no urge to start running. If anything, she was incredibly curious of this monster's origins and how they came to be.

The vibe that the skeleton held was delightful. Their jumpy tone made the air smile and laugh. Elation covered the surroundings like a soft blanket, making Neoma feel safe and warm.

“Well then, how old are you?” she asked after a short junction of silence.

The skeleton threw their head back and gripped the railing harder, laughter ripped from their extinguished voice box.

“How rude of you!” they giggled, making Neoma’s heart jump, afraid that she had offended.

“Trust my speech fragile mortal, for you wouldn’t wish to have the knowledge of the amount of time I’ve walked the Earth for,” they responded, holding a hand over their ribcage as if they were trying to calm their heartbeat

Neoma frowned at their movements. She wondered if they did possess a heartbeat, even when the lack of pulsating organ was very clear.

“How come?” she asked curiously. She cocked her head to the side, her moonlit locks pooling onto the decaying, wooden railing.

The skeleton let out a yelp before rocketing their hand forward and gathering her long, silver hair into their undead hand. They scolded her like a mother.

“Be careful! I would hate for your extravagant hair to become unclean from the rotting wood. Please do be careful with your hair. I would die a million times to have hair even half as fascinating as yours on my head”

They held Neoma’s hair in their bony hand, the strands overflowing on their fingers due to the thickness of it. Neoma stood up straight and watched the skeleton stare at her hair, bewitched by the amount of care and obsession they seemed to have for her locks.

“Oh, please excuse my disrespect,” the creature said, surrendering their constraint on the girl’s hair. “I only wished to study your hair a bit closer.”

Neoma gave a half-hearted smile to the skeleton, allowing her pearly white teeth to shine past her lips, reflecting the moonlight alongside her hair.

The skeleton felt their ‘heart’ skip a beat as she did so, being dazed by her almost inhuman beauty.

She turned her body back to the railing and looked up towards the scintillating sky again. The suns flickering billions of light years away shimmered and gleamed at her. It’s like they were speaking in Morse code, trying to disseminate with the rest of the universe that their time is almost up. The moment when they will detonate into a black hole of nothingness is nearing. They would demolish everything that comes in a specific radius of them, stretching and pulling them until eventually snapping out of existence.

A rough shiver rippled up Neoma’s spine, vibrating her bones. She figured it was about time she began walking home, back to her lovely abode to settle in for the night with her feathery companion, Leo the barn owl. Even thinking about it made her feel warmer.

“I apologize, but I should start heading home,” she declared, looking back over to the skeleton.

The creature glanced at her and gave the best smile they could while having no skin or face muscles. Neoma admired their attempt of returning her kindness, even when they were biologically incapable of doing so.

“Don’t worry, pretty one, I completely understand. I really appreciate that you took time out of your short life to talk to me. You sure are one of the kindness and most gorgeous mortals I have met this decade. I’ll commemorate you,” the creature said. “And don’t forget to maintain your hair, it’s awfully too exquisite for its own good.”

The girl gave an effusive smile towards them, but it dropped again when she realized that she most likely won’t encounter the emaciated being again.

“Where will you go?” she asked curiously, “Do you have a home to get back to?”

The skeleton leaned forward and implanted their ulna on the rotting railing, placing their head into their hands, creating an odd sound of bones rattling together.

And so, he began his monologue.

“No, I haven’t had a home in a long time,” they began, “Actually, it’s more like I’ve had too many homes in a short period of time. I have all this space and time on my hands and I’ve used it to travel everywhere that is physically and emotionally possible for a being like me. I know every nook and cranny of this Earth. I’ve seen and felt the extent of how phenomenal things can be, like pleasant feelings of love and affection. I know the depressing and longing feeling of meeting someone for the first time, knowing that they will grow old whilst you remain the same for all eternity. And although you will be with them through all their good and bad ordeals, they will never have the time to truly help you with your own.

“Although, that’s only one of the feelings that I’ve grown so accustomed to during my life.”

“The heart-string pulling feeling of holding a newborn puppy. The small bean-shaped animal jiggling in your embrace and letting out sighs of exhaustion. Squeezing their feather-weight body closer to your chest to tune in to your heartbeat, your smile widening when they eventually pass out in your arms.

“Graduating high school and escaping all the stress of handing in papers in time and dating drama that everyone seemed to obsess over so much. Being so afraid yet so excited for what lays ahead of you in life.

“Being married to the one you adore with all your heart, feelings lodging in your throat when giving vows, coming out in the form of a choked sob.

“Walking down the aisle and attempting to glance at your soulmate through your tears of happiness. Tackling your own inner self to not sprint up the soft carpet to throw your hands around their neck, because even if you only had to wait a few more seconds to feel their warmth, that time never goes fast enough.

“The painful yet exhilarating awareness of going into labor with your first child. Going through hours and hours of torture, but holding the tiny human in your arms for the first time is always worth it.

“The feeling of watching your loved one going into labor with your child, eyes filling with happiness and proudness at witnessing your partner holding your child after a long night of agony.

“Watching your young children walk away from you for the first time. After taking forever to unlatch their clingy hands off your legs, pressing them to go into the big scary playground.”

The skeleton lifted his head to place his gaze on the empty air in front of them. “I am able to truthfully tell you that I remember each and every life that I have lived, and the amazing unique humans and creatures that I have encountered in each one.

“I’ve seen millions upon millions of dead pets. You’d think that I would have grown used to the feeling of grief, but to be honest, it gets worse every time I am forced to experience it. At this point, I begin grieving before they are even gone.

“I know the horrific and heart crushing feeling of being told ‘I don’t love you anymore’. That by far is one of the hardest statements to accept, because it makes you question yourself when you were most likely not the cause. It’s just by chance.

“I have developed more of an empathetic response rather than feeling sorry for myself during this situation. I am aware of how hard it is to tell someone that you know longer feel romantic love for them. I’ve had to do it myself many times.

“I know how it feels to be trapped. Having been locked up in a harsh prison for over half a century, watching my friends say their goodbyes before being taken to the lethal injection process.

“I’ve watched a lot of my families be shot to death in front of my eyes. I had to attend their funerals, eventually falling into an unemotional wistful being afterwards.

“The worst feeling I’ve ever had to experience though is the one that is a constant headache in the back of my skull. I have to invariably live with the reality that I am never going to escape this prison of living infinite lifetimes. I am never going to be able to end it. I can’t perish from old age. I can’t succumb to murder. I can’t die of execution. I can’t die of starvation. I can’t depart life from cancer. I can’t even take my own life. You can trust me, because I have tired all the options that I have, multiple times. I have done everything that one entity can accomplish on this cramped Earth, and I can tell you that it’s not amusing anymore. 

No matter how much I want it, or how much I try, I will never be able to close my eyes and die a proper and real death.”

The skeleton shifted their skull towards Neoma, a cracking sound cutting through the silence as they did so.

Neoma stared back at the skeleton, emotions swimming in her eyes, her mind battling itself about what she should say.

“I-I’m sorry,” she suddenly cried. She buried her face into her arms planted on the wooden railing, hiding her tears from the creature. “I’m so sorry.” she screamed, “I wish I could do what you so desperately want. It seems so simple yet so complicated. I am so sorry that us humans complain about having such short lives, when having a never ending one would be a literal hell.

“You immortal beings always seemed so powerful and strong to us, but from what you've said, I can tell you’re just like us. Only, whilst our problems are temporary, yours’s are eternal.”

Neoma sucked in a huge breath to fill her exhausted lungs. She lunged sideways towards the skeleton and encased them with her warm-skinned arms, placing her cheek on their collarbones.

The creature was taken by surprise and stumbled backwards. They watched as Neoma’s long silver hair weaved through their bones, falling in between the gaps and into their ribcage. Exactly where a heart would be if they were existing comparably to a regular human being.

The skeleton held an invisible smile on their face as they wrapped their skin-less arms around Neoma, placing one hand on the back of her head and the other on the small of her lower-back.

In that moment, the great and powerful creature held no regret or sadness, no thoughts on how bad their eternal life was and how much of a curse it was to breathe everyday. The old yet young creature was thankful to have someone who didn’t run, but treated them as an equal. As a normal human being.

Because that’s what they were, just a normal human soul inside a frame that will never fade away.

“Thank you, for helping me forget. Even if it was just for a second, you gorgeous human,” the skeleton mumbled out.