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@crystals-and-claws
Crystals and Claws.
"The world is cruel." / "Therefore I won't be."
Independent OC RP Blog
18+ Only, but low on sexual themes
Darker themes will be present
Both canon and ocs are welcome
Working mostly through original lore of both fey and eldritch
Manifested by Naiad
Following back from @the-snowy-river
On semi-hiatus
If you are on mobile, here are links to my Resources, Rules, Verses, Cyrian's Sheet, Jackdaw's Sheet and Nox's Sheet!
It wasn't that she didn't notice the disappointment in his sigh, it's just that she didn't care. What was so wrong with crashing in her car under an overpass for a night? Obviously she was safe being hidden away. And she had a gun. And a knife. And her fists. Whatever, man.
She sauntered after him, her short legs going at their own pace to keep up as her gaze wandered over his home. Smaller than the last one she broke into, that was what... a full on mansion? This was more like a lord's vacation manor or something. At least to her. She grew up in a small port town with a few old Victorian mansions here and there in town. One a hotel, one a museum, one still a house. Jailer-- Cyrian's lifestyle was still fancy by comparison.
"Oh, cool. So we'll have a sleepover and catch up. I got pajamas and snacks in my car." Just like that. His embarrassment amused her and she was sad he put the mask on (even if he had valid reasoning for it) and she couldn't see it. But there was always opportunity later, she supposed. Especially since he just locked her the fuck in on hanging out tonight.
Marie blinked at him sharing more about himself. How part of his face and hands weren't complete. She wasn't sure what that meant, exactly, or how he even managed to fix that himself. But that's what sleepovers were for, right? Figuring out the weird stuff about your other girlie. Or, well, Cyrian.
Abruptly, she took a big hop forward to land beside him as they walked, her hands clasping behind her back as she leaned forward to peer up at him. "Well, you did a good job on your face. I never would have guessed." Her head tilted slightly as she stared at him for a long moment before looking ahead. "So you're like, even more magical than I initially thought. I thought you were just a fella that liked playing with chains. Which totally was fun and fine by me, of course. But like... y'know, you're way more chill." Maybe it was because she wasn't actively antagonizing him? Pfft. Who knows.
Before it felt like a competitive game of who could have the upper-hand. It was super fun and frustrating. Challenging. But this fella here, same guy, was different than before. She found she liked this side of him, too.
"Lucky for you, I like chill." She nudged him playfully.
Marie's general demeanour and energy already made the house feel more lived in. Just the way she walked and spoke about things - just the way she was - made the small manor feel like a home rather than just a building.
He flicked the switch at the bottom of the stairs to turn on the light at the bottom floor, a former small internal ballroom he turned into a living room since it easily connected to most parts of the house and it was nice and centred with the rest of the building. The former owner was much too eccentric for the size of their wealth when they paid for the building to be made relatively recently to other manners.
It was odd to hear anyone compliment him on his face. Back when he first carved himself he was proud of his work, but time, insults and his own use of his odd appearance made him think of himself as having disfigurements.
"Compared to my current sculpting work, my face and claws are below amateur level," he shrugged, trying to shake off the uncomfortable feeling. Why did he feel uncomfortable with a compliment? "I am a living statue of marble that houses the corpse of an eldritch horror beyond reality. If your image of my abilities was limited to my chains you severely underestimated me."
"Of course I will be much more 'chill',-" people these days and their terms- "if I do not run a political party and criminal underworld at the same time. While everything I said back then is still very much part of my character, I simply got tired of keeping up that side of me all the time," he sighed. "...I could go back to threats if that makes you more comfortable?"
She was a good highlight of those days though. The game they were both in was a much easier one for him to play. It was relaxing even, despite his irritation in the moment. It was cathartic.
"Go get everything you need from your car." On perfect timing, the front door clicked as it unlocked. "The bathroom is second door on the right as you go up if you'd like to take a shower or bath. I will be there in a few minutes."
"Dearest, your multiversal harem seems to want new members... Just be informed I will help them unionize."
“If you start affecting my chocolate supply we’re getting a divorce.”
"....And here I was wanting to add to it." He knows exactly what he is doing. "But I guess I will cross that off the list...." Pen veeeerrrrryyy slowly moving down to the paper.
"Pfft. I slept under a bridge on the way here already." In her car. Technically, it was an overpass. Because she was always going to drive everywhere unless it was a necessity to use another mode. Those flying tin cans won't get her so easily!
She waved her hand off, as if it was no big deal. At least he totally understood her habits, though. That was nice. He didn't lose his touch or forget about her. He did like her, she knew it.
When he pointed back at her, she mocked gasp. Rude. Fair, but rude. But his explanation was one she could accept. Marie nodded in a sagely manner, wisely agreeing to his words even if she had no idea why. Like, why was that vase so utterly fucked up in the first place? How'd it get like that if it wasn't his intention? He could be manipulative, but he didn't seem like he was playing with her on this. Maybe it was because she figuratively caught him with his pants down? She was skeptical but... alright. She'd go with the flow.
"Woah! My own room? Fancy. Here I thought we'd be laying together on the bed and kicking out feet. Kinda a bummer but I ain't gonna complain." She practically skipped along after him.
"So, uh. How long have you had a face for?" Marie chirped, because why ask about the vase right now? Had it always been under there? Why did he always hide it before? She was buzzing with energy, ready to rapid fire so many inquiries his way.
"Of course you did," he sighed. He wasn't mad, just disappointed. Somewhat. He expected this of her. But he wanted to expect better.
This house was tiny compared to the mansion he had before, but it was still very well kept and very spacious. He hated how empty it felt, so there were different gifts given to him by his neighbours that decorated it - a hand painted wooden egg on a bookshelf here, a few embroideries here and there. Even a sculpture made by one of the kids in a class he taught over summer.
He was again embarrassed when Marie spoke about laying together in bed. She was so casual with something he tried to distance himself from. Should he even try to distance himself in the first place?
"I assumed you would have liked your own room. I am not opposed, just did not want to impose." He answered over his shoulder, careful as he went down the steps to the ground floor.
"All of my existence, except for a little over a year after I came into consciousness." He didn't treat the question as being funny or absurd because it felt like a genuine question to him. "Both my hands and right side of my face were incomplete, and I could not see from that eye. I had to carve and chisel myself while I still had very little dexterity in my - at the time - blocky fingers." He explained it like one would explain their circumstances of birth.
Marie was the first person in Cyrian's life to hear about his 'childhood' if it could even be called that. He didn't knew why he felt comfortable saying all of it.
Maybe it was because somebody else finally asked without a hint of fear or disgust. Maybe it was because Marie asked. Maybe he just wanted to speak about his life without thinking of work. Maybe it was all of those things
Hearing she didn't kill him and that he was actually fine made her doubtful for a second before she finally relented. Her hands lowered, seeing as he was too tall to reach now. Rude. That's how she knew it was the Jailer, though. So she couldn't be upset.
As he fitted his mask on, she was about to comment but the offer of refunding her or a new vase stopped her. And then he was asking if she had somewhere to stay the night.
Marie's arms folded over her chest as she let out a soft, "Pfft." A classic sign she hadn't thought that far ahead. She was probably just going to crash in her car in his driveway, to be honest. But... wait, was that an invitation?
"Hehehehe." She beamed up at him. "You want to hangout, huh? Knew you always liked me even when you're so grumpy half the time!" She rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, clasping her hands behind her back for a few seconds.
Then her expression turned sly, "I'll stay... no refund or replacement necessary. But on one condition." She suddenly pointed at his mask, "YOU TAKE THAT OFF! I just got to see your face and you're HIDING FROM ME?! I'll freakout more, watch me!" She braced her feet against the floor, ready to go full feral freakout mode.
Of course she did not figure out a proper place to stay for the night. He knew from the moment he realized that it was her climbing through the window. Reckless and jumping into things head first, that was just like Marie. He sighed, rubbing his eyes underneath the mask
He was happy to see her again even if he would have never admitted it - he would have much easier said she was entertaining. Despite his 'frustrations' though, he didn't see her as something to string along in a a play of criminal cat and investigator mouse anymore. He didn't see her like that for a long time.
If not for the mask, Marie would have seen Cyrian's embarrassed expression at the 'accusation' thrown at him. Luckily the mask was perfectly stoic. He did recoil a bit at her sudden jolt of energy, arms crossing as she braced herself.
"I just know you well enough to know you would most likely sleep under a bridge because of how much you are... yourself," He scratched at one of his arms awkwardly, clearing his throat. "Fine, I will take it off -" He raised a pointed finger at her because it was his turn to finally point! "After I put the vase away; because it helps in the same way a weld mask does."
He then took the vase and the cloth, and started to head towards his bedroom's door. "Come on, I will also show you to your room."
His frustration started to subside as Marie's freakout ended. He almost found it odd that when threat arose she calmed down, but he knew this reporter well enough that he should have not found such a thing odd.
"Just call me Cyrian. The Jailer is a title and persona put to rest for now," he sighed, almost ignoring the comment about his chains being 'cute'.
He watched her approach hesitate then start to approach, claws coming to rest on his hips in expectation. With her it could have been anything, so he prepared for any comment or action that she might have brought up at that moment.
He wasn't surprised she had one of his items - he saw her name on the receipt. He leaned in to look at the vase, examining it and tracing one of his claws carefully over it. The craftmanship was his, and so was the magical pattern etched into it.
The mention of the vase being haunted made his eyes shot wide. "Wha-?" Instantly he went to examine the patterns deeper, eyes going hazy and spilling over with a black ichor. And truly there it was, something more than just the protective pattern. "Oh- Oh no. It was supposed to be just durability enchantment, not that."
It was his turn to freak out.
Cyrian. Cyrian?!
She pointed at him, "WHAT KIND OF NICE NAME IS THAT?!" It wasn't an insult, amazingly. It was a very nice name. She wasn't surprised, he was a fancy fella so of course he'd have a nice name.
Finally, what she came here for, the vase. No longer in her hands. Yippee! She bounced excited away as he took hold of it, examining it as she opted to skip around his room. Been a while since she had been in here. Some stuff was different. Nosy, she began looking at some of the stuff he had on shelves.
Hearing his reaction she snapped back, skipping back over. As his eyes began spilling some black stuff she began flailing and reached out, grabbing the vase and placing it on the ground. It was the only conclusion to her, that the vase was causing his eyes to bleed like that.
"Ohmygod, dude, don't freak!! I'm freaking now!" She tugged a clean cloth she kept in her pocket and unfolded it. Unceremoniously, she threw it onto his face and tried to stop his leaky eyes. "WHY ARE YOU LEAKING?!?! Ohmygod, oh no, of fuck-- I KILLED YOU! I'LL KILL THAT VASE!"
"DON'T DIE, I JUST RE-MET YOU, CYRIAN! LIIIIVE!"
He ignored the comment about his name in the moment, too worried about the base in front of him to respond. He also allowed her to go around and look at the things in his room - a few handmade pieces of decoration and a lot of law college books were brought in since last time Marie had been around. Everything was still as tidy as last time.
His freakout was much quieter than Marie, although the eldritch-sounding mumblings and the panic in his face were very much still noticeable as he started making a recall plan for everything he had sold until that point. He had to track down each buyer, even .lre work had to be done if they sold or gave away whatever they brought, give their money back plus compensation, replace the items and-
Marie getting all up in his face derailed his train of thought. She was practically assaulting him with that cloth! He stood up to be out of her reach, taking the cloth with him to still wipe his face.
"I am not leaking- And you did not kill me!"
His eyes returned to normal with a few blinks as the ichor retreated, making sure that Marie sawit happen. He placed the vase of his nightstand, and the stained cloth next to it. He would have to properly dispose of it later.
He spoke without turning back to look at her, procuring his mask from a drawer. "You will see a lot of... unusual changes to my head and face when I do not have my mask on. Part of the reason I still keep it on is that it prevents people from freaking out just like you did." He fastened the mask around his head while turning to face her again.
"I can give you your money back or get you a new, not hunted vase in the morning. Do you even have somewhere to stay for the night?"
He partially hopee she did not - or that she would at least say she did not. He wanted to offer her to stay over. Her company was much welcomed in a house that felt empty.
“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read, Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed:”
“And on the pedestal these words appear:”
“My name is Ozymandias, KING of KINGS!! Look on my works ye Mighty, and DESPAIR!!”
"Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away."
Cyrian's constitution and endurance are insane. He'd be able to pound a parter for an hour straight with breaks taken for said partner. Good thing as well is that he's a service dom.
He gets around being the whole 'made of stone' by having minor shapeshfiting. So size isn't a problem either.
Why was he addressing this freakout to himself? He wasn't the Jailer!
...Unless?
The chains came out, blocking the window she had scampered in through. Oh. It was him. Her freaking out ceased immediately as she whipped around to look at him, listening for a long moment.
"...well, you should have just said you were the Jailer." Marie countered, stubborn and flustered all at once. "Didn't have to bring out your cute chains and shit." She tugged at her shirt collar, clearing her throat. This wasn't fair. He had that magic shit and now she couldn't scamper to an advantage. This guy... always showing her up.
The bottom of her shoe scuffed against the floor as she looked away for a moment before straightening once more. Tentatively, she took a step forward. Then another. Wandering up to him to stare directly up. Memorizing this face she has never seen before. Ignoring the fact his man-tits were out.
"I got this from you." She patted the bundle strapped to her chest. "It took some searching, but it led me here. I thought you were up to some new scheme or, possibly, someone else lived here now and was just using your name." She'd throttle them if it had been the latter.
Marie unstrapped what she had been carrying. A vase with some questionable energy surrounding it. "This thing is haunted! So if I got a haunted vase, who else must have?!" She held it out to him.
@ofmanytxngues
His frustration started to subside as Marie's freakout ended. He almost found it odd that when threat arose she calmed down, but he knew this reporter well enough that he should have not found such a thing odd.
"Just call me Cyrian. The Jailer is a title and persona put to rest for now," he sighed, almost ignoring the comment about his chains being 'cute'.
He watched her approach hesitate then start to approach, claws coming to rest on his hips in expectation. With her it could have been anything, so he prepared for any comment or action that she might have brought up at that moment.
He wasn't surprised she had one of his items - he saw her name on the receipt. He leaned in to look at the vase, examining it and tracing one of his claws carefully over it. The craftmanship was his, and so was the magical pattern etched into it.
The mention of the vase being haunted made his eyes shot wide. "Wha-?" Instantly he went to examine the patterns deeper, eyes going hazy and spilling over with a black ichor. And truly there it was, something more than just the protective pattern. "Oh- Oh no. It was supposed to be just durability enchantment, not that."
It was his turn to freak out.
This thing in the Jailer's home new her name?! Maybe she was on a list after breaking and entering a number of times... she wouldn't put it past the guy.
His window. Did Jailer reward this dude with a fancy room? Maybe he did some house renovations or something and now this rando was staying here? It would make sense, maybe he was just hired security or some working partner. Either way, terrible job.
"Why are you addressing me with such familiarity? I don't know you. Never seen your face before. If you really knew me, you'd know that a second floor can't stop me." Marie muttered, disapproval to her tone.
But... wait. That voice. That was Jailer's voice, wasn't it? It had been a while but it was embedded in her mind. But Jailer didn't have a face. Well, he did. It was a skull. Right? Creepy and cool. She vibed it. This was a normal man-face, though. Less cool. Well, he had some cool markings on his face so actually that went up to 'cool' again.
Anyway. Time to freakout.
"WHY DO YOU SOUND LIKE HIM?!" Marie pointed as she hopped slightly, feet planting on the floor a little wider. "WHAT IS ALL THIS?!" She motioned a hand over her face, meant to be questioning his face. "Did he know I was coming here? Is this another scheme?!" She motioned to him further. "Why are you hot?! And shirtless?! He did this on purpose. He's always trying to provoke me as much as I provoke him."
Marie's own confusion made Cyrian confused in return. The accusation of not knowing her only doubled it. The fact that she had a child-sized satchel then tripled it. Did she really bring a child when breaking in? Was this an attempt to accuse him of impregnating her? It would never work, he was sterile - no, that wasn't a baby, he did not feel the presence of anything alive besides her.
Then her freakout made him pause that train of thought.
"Sound like who?!" He was close to ripping his own hair out in frustration now. "Woman you are not making any sense! And you are not provoking me, you are giving me a damn headache!" Usual and expected outcome when around her, but it had been so long he lost the tolerance he built up before.
Rubbing his eyes, he raised a hand and pulled on a few chain links connected to nothing that manifested in the air. In an instant more links clinked with that familiar metallic sound as the window got covered in chains - stopping any possibility of Marie using that as a way out.
He was going to stop this mess now that he understood what she was thinking.
"I did not know you were coming here, I am not scheming anything. This is how I look beneath that mask, I am shirtless because I was in my bed, resting. The door is locked, and I answered your questions so you now better answer mine. What are you doing in my bedroom?"
@crystals-and-claws cyrian reunion!
It was just another evening of her breaking into fancy schmucks homes. Tonight, she was searching for a familiar Jailer. She successfully scampered all the way up to this window, forced the lock to open and slipped inside. All relatively quietly until she passed by the bed where she saw a figure laying there. Asleep? With a light on? Well, who was she to really judge.
"Hey! You! Where's the guy that owns this place? I got some beef I need to sort out with him!" Marie didn't hesitate to out herself, because... well, she probably was caught, right? He was right there and she needed info.
Standing there, pointing at him with one hand as the other held the bundle wrapped against her chest. An odd shape, wrapped in a baby sling. Was it an infant? No. It was a vase. A really fucked up one, at that! And she had a receipt that better be honored. (Okay, she didn't have the receipt but she was gonna get that refund!)
It had been a long day - not because it was strenuous but rather tedious. The former politician decided - after cleaning himself and remaining in just a pair of comfortable pants - to simply lay down in his bed and empty his mind.
Peace did not last long, however. He heard somebody attempt to break in, and continued to pretend to be asleep so that he could catch them once they were in. They did not expect the familiar voice of the intruder.
He jolted up to look, and a familiar reporter was just... standing in the window. "Marie?!"
"What in everything beyond the stars are you doing in my window?! This is the second floor, for goodness sake!" He almost could not believe this woman actually climbed. He was properly stunned.
He probably should have known better, but he didn't. He was just staring at her like she was an illusion or a dream that would disappear if he blinked. Good thing he didn't need to blink.
Sorry for disappearing again, going through a really rough patch mentally and I don't have the energy to be here much - been playing Darkest Dungeon to cope and it's been surprisingly helpful
Alongside this a new muse has decided to make their appearance and it's holding me like
And frankly I just don't have the energy to bring them over on tumblr. Discord's open if you want to hear more about/interact with a changeling that looks to become rot personified
@crystals-and-claws liked this post for a lil' thang nox!
"There you are." The witch leaned over him, watching as he lay among the wildflowers and grass. Her hands settled upon her knees, her hair slipping over one shoulder to rest in the grass near his head.
"Hello, lovely. Hunting something new, are we? Or merely enjoying the forest?" Her head tilted slightly, studying him like the curious thing he is,
The hunter almost fell asleep, were not for a familiar voice that appeared next to him. He hadn't even heard her approach, which ironically functioned as another sign that let him knew who was really talking.
"Recuperating after being hunted." He answered without opening his eyes. The hand that rested over his stomach pulled up his shirt to reveal his work underneath. The skin looked slightly withered around a patch of the deep purple-red crystal that grew over like a scab.
"But the forest is lovely. Even more so now that you are here." He spoke without worry, a smile spreading across his face.
"I am sufficiently bored... I think some villany will help solve that."
"FAUST! You are either hearing me calling your name or are currently feeling shivers down your back! This is your warning that I want a proper chase, little rat! It better be a good one, or I will have to entertain myself more after I catch you!"
[closed started continued from discord with @dick-meister]
There is a crack! when Adam's fists slam against the deer skull mask. The material bends under the blow, and the whole object shifts on top of Cyrian's head. But the statue did not even blink when the hit landed, eyes remaining locked on the angel.
"Precisely what a coward would do."
Before Cyiran's foot could touch the ground to take a step back, a chain shot up from the ground. Metal of a black ooze make spilled from the shape of a chain and the hole in the ground, binding Adam's wrist to that one point.
"You keep trying to lie even to yourself. And you are failing. So you decide to start screaming to shut everyone, including yourself, up."
@crystals-and-claws
“Aren’t you all about like justice and stuff? Can you really torture a man who hasn’t even DONE anything yet?”
"You heavily misunderstood my character then. Title of 'The Jailer' never had anything to do with any sort of justice system. I am just really good at keeping things locked up."
"Now run. I am giving you a five second head start."
Currently just playing with a simple silver ring in their hands. "Well, what am I supposed t' do with this then?" Totally not related to anything.
