ursa minor

Cricket Eldritch | 16 | Bugbear | Human. Is the world too big? Or am I too small? [Closed RP Blog for Touch Of Strange]

[cricketeldritch-blog]

wrenjekyll:

Really? I like to explore the forest so I usually just pick the nearest tree and rest on it for a while then go back home or keep exploring.

Yep! Maybe you slept in mine once? I take a nap until I feel better and then I go back to work or school.

[cricketeldritch-blog]

nevensato:

Seriously. It’s okay. I got it.

My name’s Neven.

Got what? Do you have the animals? Are they okay? Did you hurt them? I’ll scare you if you did

Nice to meet you, Neven. 

[cricketeldritch-blog]

earthenlinguist:

No I don’t actually think so. 

How do you say it? Humans say strange things. Do you still think I’m human? Oops.

[cricketeldritch-blog]

hawaiianhalfwolf:

Quick question… you know what the internet is right? Where’s Ashton? Cuz I’m getting weirdly punk’ed aren’t I. 

No! Does that net catch what’s in the...the Netflix stream? If it’s called the “internet,” is there something in it?

[cricketeldritch-blog]

quiteashocker:

Well…. it is. Whatever happens in the past is useless, happy or upsetting. It’s important to take whatever emotions it makes you feel and look towards the future so you can avoid something or make better memories. I didn’t do that. I was supposed to stay away from people and here we are. 

Of course I have good things that I remember.

That sounds...hard to do.

Like what? I lived in the forest with my parents and we had the greatest time ever! I have lots of family memories!

[cricketeldritch-blog]

quiteashocker:

I’m not sad, I am perfectly happy. There’s no need to ‘make me happy again’.

But you said the past was...useless? That doesn’t sound like happy talk. I don’t like my past, too think it’s good to remember some good things. Do you have good things to remember?

[cricketeldritch-blog]

liesanders:

Now, now, don’t shame him for being a hermit! In fact, he once did the 100 layers of Polo shirts challenge. He lives inside of us. He is life, he is love. And we must praise him.

It’s wonderful, isn’t it? Nature. Love it. Not as much as I love Dr. Seuss though.

What’s a hermit? Isn’t that a frog? I heard about him when I What is that shirt thing? Have you tried it? I don’t wan’t someone living inside of me! I’m Cricket! Nobody else! When my parents tell me they love me, they’re telling Dr. Seuss, too? Or are they calling me Dr. Seuss? I want to be Cricket! What does praise mean

It is! So pretty! I love it a lot! Why do you love him? Does he give you food? Does he tell you goodnight? 

[cricketeldritch-blog]

nevensato:

Yup, okay sure. I’ll definitely not try that. 

Yeah, I’d imagine walls hurt if you crash through them. Which is why I’m making a stronger one so that they can’t. I’m only trying to help here, Cricket. It’s not even an actual animal we’re talking about it’s me as giant deer monster give me a break, dude.

Ooh! Let me help! It’ll be fun! Where are the animals?

Hmmm...animals don’t like walls. Or cages. I know because I lived in one Why don’t we take the animals somewhere far away so they can play? I think that helps even more! What’s your name?

[cricketeldritch-blog]

hawaiianhalfwolf:

What in the hell? Um. It’s a streaming service to watch movies, on the internet. And stranger things is a tv show on that service. But thank you , I hope i do too.

A stream? Can you wash up in it? I saw a stream once with very big fish. They were strange, too! Are there other things in the stream? You’re welcome!

[cricketeldritch-blog]

quiteashocker:

Am I supposed to like having to isolate myself in fear of hurting someone

I didn’t say that.

I know. But you seem really sad? Is there a way to make you happy again?

[onalarkspur-deactivated20170213]

Cricket’s Call || Lark & Cricket

@cricketeldritch

While Lark knew that it was useless to go off and search in the forest for his village, it didn’t mean that he would stop any time soon. He didn’t want to give up hope that one day the village would appear right where he left it. Instead, each night, an empty plain of bad grass that used to surround the village greeted Lark. It made a knot twist in his stomach, reminding him that he would never see his mother or father again. He might not even see Ashford River again, which seemed cruel since there was no one he could talk to about what happened except his cousin as there was barely anyone who understood since he didn’t know that many people that had bled over, too.

Lark sighed heavily before turning and leaving. There was no point sticking around an empty field, not when he was certain that his siblings would be waiting for him back home. However, as he walked, he could hear shouting in the distance, someone calling out in the woods. It wasn’t safe to be doing such things, so Lark changed directions, making his way towards the noise. He was surprised when he saw a boy in the middle of the woods, looking concerned as he called out into the darkness. He frowned, feeling bad for the other, knowing what it felt like to be lost, so he approached. Slowly, of course, with his hands up, so the boy would know he was unarmed, as Lark didn’t want to startle him.

“Hey,” Lark said as he approached. “Everything okay? I heard you as I was walking home. Did you get lost? You should know that it’s not safe to be out in the woods at night all by yourself.” Lark winced. “That sounded threatening, but it wasn’t. I’m honestly concerned. I was wondering if maybe I could help you find your way before you came across someone who might not be so genuine with their concern.”

[cricketeldritch-blog]

Life was a cycle. That much Cricket knew. The winter would pass and eventually return, the flowers would die and grow back again. And like that very cycle, Cricket found himself at the forest’s edge, staring through the negative spaces between the trees, deciding if he should begin his search again. Should he keep looking if he’ll never find them? Each time the venture to find his parents came up empty-handed. It made him bitter. Unsure of anything. Were his parents still alive? The last time he saw them, they were barely responsive. As bugbears they needed to feed on fear to survive, and it was hard to do that when in the circus, the only reaction they brought forth in others were love and amazement.

But Cricket was unable to resist the pull of the trees, as he always was, and now he stumbled over branches and inclines, calling for his mother and father. Maybe they had escaped from the circus and could hear him. Cricket didn’t know what he would’ve done once he found them; he figured he could start leading humans into the woods so that his parents could scare them just enough to regain their health. He was just about to step over a dead log when he heard the tentative steps behind him. Did they belong to his parents? A feeling of joy made him dizzy with excitement and he grinned. Spinning around to face the sound, his happiness faded when he saw that the sound belonged to a man instead.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” Cricket had asked a bit too fiercely, despite the hands-up gesture he saw. He could tell by that alone that the man wasn’t going to hurt him, but that didn’t stop him from showing suspicion. His walks through the forest were solitary. Peaceful. Anything other than that and he wanted to know why. “I’m okay. I’m looking around. Not lost.” He shook his head. Cricket made it a point to look for his parents at night. It was easier that way as there were less chances to be seen or heard. The darkness didn’t mean a thing to Cricket, who lived in the forest his whole life. Why wouldn’t it be safe? The other words didn’t make sense, more or less, and he frowned. “I do this all the time and I’m okay. People are never here.”

[cricketeldritch-blog]

marvelousevelyn:

Honestly you sound worse than Lark so far Yes. It’s across the Atlantic Ocean. Where are you from?

Yes, I do suppose that it does.

I’ve never seen it. I’m from Ashford River! Have you been there?

I knew it! Are you the greatest at anything?

[cricketeldritch-blog]

sciencebanshee:

[pm] Crickets don’t speak English, they just make noise to attract ma I see I understand. In that case, I think it’s a clever name. What happened to your pare

I live for my work. There’s nothing more rewarding. I hope that you’re able to feel that way about whatever you do, some day. I can’t imagine dish washing is satisfactory.

I’ll keep that in mind. 

Can I ask what happened to your parents?

[pm] Thank you! Why did your parents give you your name?

If I live for my work, I can’t live for anything else. That sounds mean.

You can put things in your mind? Can you show me how?

I don’t know where they are! Or how they are! Do you? Please tell me what you know! I miss them so much! I don’t know what happened to them.

[cricketeldritch-blog]

marvelousevelyn:

My father is Lord Robert Hoffman from England. 

I suppose ‘great things’ would be better.

Where is that? England? Is it far?

Or “greatest things”? That sounds even better!

[cricketeldritch-blog]

professor-exorcist:

Why…why would we do that.

So they know we’re thinking of them! If we let them know that, they’ll stay soft!

[cricketeldritch-blog]

sciencebanshee:

[pm] I am curious. Why is your name Cricket?

Oh, no, I want them in my way. But that’s not what I meant. Merely that I work with humans not non-human animals, like pigs.

It’s a phrase meaning “I understand,” in this context. I never thought I would be less literal than someone els

[pm] I was born on the first night of summer! And all of the crickets were saying hi, and I was really small! My parents thought it was a nice name!

Do you like your work? I don’t. It doesn’t have anim

Why not say that, then? That you understand? If nothing’s there, why tell me you see it?

[cricketeldritch-blog]

nevensato:

I don’t think they can understand me, Cricket. And their home was never there? 

You don’t know what tools are? A hammer? A screwdriver? A drill? Sharp things that can hurt an animal crashing through the wall?

But they can. Animals are smart. They live everywhere! Just like humans we do! 

No. They sound evil. Doesn’t the wall hurt, too?