mr. blue sky @acourtjayster - Tumblr Blog

🃏︎ — a court jayster.

ntwali mutanguha, found at @grymmrp.

#the mun.#DORIAN. HE/THEY. 25. CST.#grymm.intro #grymm.task

𝐖𝐇𝐎? open , capping at 1/3 . 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄? collections office . 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓? prologue : quoth the raven .

she is not a woman accustomed to waiting , and if her patience isn't already running thin , the faint hum of conversation and the bright fluorescent lights in the large office are enough to drive anyone mad . she sits stiffly — posture perfect — on a cracked leather chair that squeaks every time she so much as shifts her weight . the antique tones of the collections office — the grays and beiges in marble are simply abhorrent , as is the particular wood they've used everywhere — make her eager to retreat to her bardo as soon as this is done . her lips curl into an irritated sneer , as if the indignity of waiting is enough to disgust her . the echo of footsteps catches her attention , cutting through the cacophony of the typewriters clicking , and when her eyes flick toward the source , a familiar figure steps into the room . recognition flashes sharp and immediate — she knows this grymm , knows their feathers , knows their name , knows why they're here . sunisa automatically adjusts — back impossibly straighter , chin tilted up , sneer dropping to a neutral expression . " fancy seeing you here , " she croons , voice a smooth , practiced melody with just enough coolness to border on condescension . she nods to the shimmering black paper in her lap , psyche's photo resting atop it . " so . . . decided to join the circus ? "

acourtjayster

The bigger they are, the harder they fall and all that, and no matter the times Ntwali rotates their map of the Department of Afterlife Affairs, they can't make heads of tails of the Collections Office. Perhaps it's due to the sheer number of folk runnin' round like bairns that make the Collections Office so discombobulating, and reminds Ntwali of a playground in late June when schule's all done with. But the recent hubbub is prolly 'cause of the current news as well. To say the least of an emergency Their Emmy declared on a cosmic level.

While they'd love to go to Near Vane and take advantage of an empty, and it's always deserted there in the fog, Ntwali's got a clerk or two soft on them and if their charm can make their job easier than harder, what's not to try with a tassie of tea or coffee or a toddy?

As Ntwali enter Collections on the scout for the Assignment Lobby, they take a misstep and walk in-line to none other than Barbet.

Aw, in the name of feck.

Ntwali's never been feart of nothin' since finding out that they're in the After. Naw, mate, that's a lie. Them hollowed are skeerie, and Their Emmy isnae somebody to be coorie wit' too. But Barbet? Ntwali hopes they haven't caught the grymm's braw yaks, but those eyes spark nae danger for the Jay. While most fawn and some are leery 'bout Ntwali's not-so-short tales, a wee few give Ntwali a burgeoning dread of THEY KEN THAT AH'M KEN. Or, in their practiced posh: they know that I know.

The feeling of court in session returns, that dance of wits and wiles calling like music. Ntwali's dodged many a procurator fiscal, and that sort of 'perience is needed now. Barbet is a people-reader, but Ntwali's isnae a slouch in that branch of social library themselves. But gitdam, their hands are sweaty.

Ntwali settles their hauns into the pockets of their caramel-coloured leather jacket, and sets a grin as they greet back, "Guid tae see ye, Barbet!" Their eyes had already spotted the photo of Psyche and don't dare to settle away from the eye-lock. Barbet is a stunner in tidy features and sharp patter. Best be ready. "Craic'n the case, ae?"

They stumble a bit, and a smidgeon of their Aberdonian accent splices through the standard fancy they'd managed to switch comfortably since they moved to the dear green place. Ntwali corrects themselves though and leans back on their heels with an assured casualness. "It sure beats the monotony of Hollowed hunting and soul reaping, doesn't it? I'd gather you're participating, or at the very least, getting orchestra seats to the show?"

#deck of cards. prologue.#shuffle. barbet.#hullo :D #hope this is ok!

kestrell

where: the department of afterlife affairs, collections office when: shortly after the events of the prologue status: open [cap - 2/3.] anger is the most prominent emotion romeo feels as he parses the letter, once, twice, a third time, just to be fucking sure that its contents are laying out the insulting proposition he thinks they are. it's almost as if he is instantly transported to the moment of the failed reaping, to looking into that abnormal individual's eyes and feeling their soul slip neatly and promptly through his fingers. upon unwillingly revisiting that memory, he finds that the immediate stab of his first failure in the after is, unfortunately, no less sickening the second time around. for strategic reasons, he makes a concerted effort to calm the storm in his mind, to appear interested but unbothered. his eyes are too intense in their focus, even as the glide of them along the mass of departing ravens is slow, lazy. "well, well, well," he drawls. "hear that? it's the sound of hundreds of desperate little sycophants fluttering their way to the registration desk. part of me thinks this is some ploy to weed out the weak and overeager."

acourtjayster

The letter couldn't have come at a worst time. Ntwali thunk they'd be used to the fates giving their arse a good kicking by now, but it still seemed that they were privy to some torture from Good Ol' Their Eminence themselves. Was it any more scarier knowing there was a face to the madness, that this was ordained on The Magistrate's measures? And if that were the case, then was this slip-up always in the works and this godlike.... being, for a lack of a better comparison, always known Their system was doomed to fail? Shite, studying for the bar had done bonked Ntwali's brain. Gots to curb that curious cat before it got them dead. Or, dead-er, seeing where they were.

Ntwali's blue feathers fluttered as another one of their new mates drew in close. They were always surrounded by new faces lately it seemed. Though this bloke was gossiping already, saying, "I see Kestrel here."

And loudly at it, too.

Haud yer wheesh... Dinnae your mums teach ye when ye'a wearn? Rightful dunderheid. Ntwali hid a wince under a megawatt polished smile and lightly joked back in their practiced posh affectation, "Mate! 'Course we'd gander upon our pal Top Flight in action! He's a shoo-in for the challenge........... besides me!"

The odds may never be in my favor.

"Speaking of!" And wanting to be away from Loudmouth Lorrie over here, Ntwali hailed Kestrel with a wave and a greeting. "Kestrel, mate! G'to see you! Would've been shocked if I dinnae catch your bonnie plumes 'round these parts!"

They gave a little step aside, weaving out like they always did if a situation looked to be getting treacley... and walked over to Kestrel right as the grymm's commentary dropped within earshot. Outtae the fire and into the quicksand.

If Ntwali's ears were burning at the word sycophant and weak, that was between them and God, or, again, seeing where they were, The Magistrate. "Hah-ho! Mate, if Their Emmy wanted to do a culling, They'd just do a free-for-all in the Hintys, nae? So, are you gracing the challenge as well or... shock twist, abstaining?"

#deck of cards. prologue.#shuffle. kestrel.#hope tis ok!#i'm a jump in sort #we can always hash out in dms too!

katestewartt

“You can exist as multiple things. You don’t have to cut off any part of yourself.” - NCUTI GATWA photographed by Daniel Riera for "The Times" (May 11, 2024)

#ace of diamonds. face.

music-of-the-era

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mewsik

Mr. Blue Sky - Electric Light Orchestra

#king of hearts. tunes.

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