lion / lamb

do you love me?

[dismalice]

| BLOG | CARRD |

[sharedpast]

IN HINDSIGHT, LUKE ISN’T SURE what he expected. Maybe it was wrong of him to chastise a total stranger on manners when said stranger looked like . . . this. There’s no way he’s human, right? Is he some sort of critter, then? Where did he even come from? He wasn’t there a second ago, Luke is sure of that. What did “the original starwalker” even mean? He’s . . . kinda star-shaped, if one squints. A lopsided star. In any case, he doesn’t look offended by Luke’s words. He’s only guessing. The other’s face hasn’t changed.

“Never heard of—“ Luke’s eyes widen and he has to consciously close his slack jaw. Well, no wonder The Original Starwalker is mad. If Luke randomly appeared somewhere he didn’t know, alone, he would be upset too! But how could someone not know London? It’s London! Does Starwalker even know about England? Europe? Earth? It would be impolite to barrage him with questions, but Luke is curious, if a little perturbed.

“I’m a what?” That didn’t sound like an insult, but Luke’s never heard the term Lightner before, much less be referred to as one. Maybe it’s a word where this person comes from for strangers. “Um, well, London is where we are right now. It’s a city, probably the biggest in country. You can go shopping for almost anything, or eat at a fancy restaurant, or learn at an institution.” Luke looks around them. “We’re at a train station right now. It’s really busy. If you’d like, we can talk somewhere less crowded.”

[dismalice]

"Lightner." Starwalker repeats, very helpfully in his opinion, because obviously everyone knows what those are. Starwalker knows that, and a lot of other stuff. He may not know London, or England, or Europe, but he has a general idea of what a country is, and he definitely knows about cities and towns. He's been on his share of travels to various Dark Worlds, and some of them have been those things. But they've never been this bright, or had this many people going all over the place at the same time. Now that he knows this is a train station, that makes a little more sense. The Light World must have a lot more people than Dark Worlds do... You'd think more Lightners would make Dark Fountains then, but whatever. Maybe most of them are boring?

"Yeah okay." Going somewhere else is sounding like a real good idea to him right about now. There's just one problem, though... or, well, there's multiple problems, though... "No rest-rants. I don't have a mouth. Or money. Where's the trees?" He likes those more than weird-looking buildings. There must be a forest or something around here, right? What kind of self-respecting World wouldn't have one of those?

[fanfeifour]

Yay

Free jelly babies

[foodforthot]

did trilobites walked among flowering plants

[foodforthot]

life could be dream…

[desconned]

Damn this stupid city to hell and back.

The first day that Descole had set foot into the ruins had ended in cautious relief, after spending hours mapping out portions of the city all without encountering a single trap. Fool he had been to think that luck was finally turning in his favor. Now, several days later (three? four?) he has come to realize that the whole of Ambrosia is the trap, one big labyrinthian expanse of architecture. Corridors upon corridors, designs that would take years more study to try and work out the purpose of—nevermind the entire flooded underground portion that Descole can only pray does not contain what he seeks.

To say they are cranky is a severe understatement. They are all too aware that they are running out of time; Raymond is on permanent lookout duty to keep watch for the first sign of Targent coming out to claim the location while Descole surveys the city, running on a concoction of too little sleep, more painkillers than is probably wise, and not much else. The radio nestled in the inner pocket of their cloak is perhaps the only thing tethering them to sanity at this point. Shadows lengthen; some of these buildings have interiors that seem bigger than their exteriors. They keep seeing things out of their peripherals. They keep going because they’ve dealt with worse, or so they tell themself. Time is running out.

Descole climbs to the rooftop of one of the outermost buildings with their heart pounding in their ears just to see the sky again. The sun has sunk low to the horizon by now; all they want is to return to the Bostonius, but in lieu of that, the expanse of unmarred ocean in front of them will have to do.

Except—it’s not unmarred, no. A distant set of lights catch their attention out in the water. Descole squints, trying to discern if what they’re seeing is a Targent vessel, but it resolves into something else entirely, some massive, moving thing the likes of which he has never seen before. A whale, their mind wants to insist, but they know instinctively that isn’t right.

Whales surely don’t glow.

A voice echoes inside their head, sudden and unfamiliar. Descole whirls around, drawing their sword on pure instinct. The swift turn leaves them slightly dizzy, but they can’t see anyone else on the rooftops either. Nor can he spot anyone in the streets below—just puddles of seawater, and dead fish that hadn’t been lucky enough to get out of the way when Ambrosia rose. There can’t be anyone here. Descole checks the radio, clicking it just to hear the hiss of static. Raymond would have notified him if anyone else had come.

They’re hearing things. That’s all. It wouldn’t be the first time.

He hesitates, shooting a wary scowl at the deserted city before turning their back on it. “Any of you damnable Azran specters hanging around can piss off. I don’t care if this is the city of Eternal Life or not.”

[dismalice]

"Azran?" She doesn't recognise that name, but perhaps they were the architects of these ruins. They would be long gone by now, though perhaps they think she is some remnant of this old civilization. For all she knows, that could be true. She heard stories of her species' past from her elders, but so much of their time was spent in the darkest depths of the sea... Something this close to the surface would have been familiar to them, but not intimately so. If they had come from it in the ancient past, that knowledge would be lost to those near the distant seafloor. Regardless of any relation, she does find herself admiring the architecture. It's very unlike what she has seen the modern surface-people build. She enjoys strange, unique things such as these. Perhaps she should pay closer attention when she swims in the waters near the shore. There may be more lost relics to find, and she thinks she would feel rather accomplished if she rediscovered one herself.

"I do not... represent them." She does not know what they were like, but this surface being seems disturbed by the idea of them. Perhaps they did not play well with others. She has seen many peoples in conflict throughout her long life. Their ways of fighting amongst each other have evolved quickly. While she can admit to a certain appreciation for innovation, she would much rather see their talents directed elsewhere. The uncovering of this city, if carried out by them, is something for which she would admire them far more.

"I come from... the ocean. Deeper... than your kind can reach." Their thoughts are racing, paranoid and overwhelmed by more than just her presence alone. It's difficult for her to keep up, but the overall feeling is familiar. This is a human, as they call themselves; she's sure of that much now. They have such dramatic reactions when they meet her. This one may be difficult to connect with. They feel almost as if they have been fleeing from a predator. Strange... Humans have very few of those these days outside of each other, and she doesn't detect any hostile ones nearby. Could she be missing something? "I felt a vibration... strange and unfamiliar. I see now that something has risen."

She swims closer to the land's edge, allowing her head to breach the water's surface. She can't breathe the air like they can. Unlike many denizens of the deep, however, much of her body can remain outside of water for a modest duration. In her few close encounters with humans, she has come to realise that they tend to be more trusting of a creature that they can see, and that--much like her own kind--they prefer to observe the face. Even at this distance, her size should allow them to see her quite clearly.

"Do you investigate this ruin? I am curious to know what you have learned."

[bullybunny]

Dual Muse RP BLOG for Jax + Evil Jax - Pinned by Zero!

Like or Reblog if you're interested in rping with me, and I'll check you out! Be sure to read the Rules before you follow!

---

Free TADC RP Icon Store: Here [Updates occasionally when I finish Icons]

[dismalice]

blocking everyone who unironically says jax is bad trans rep and somehow damaging the community or "making the good ones look bad" btw

[bandaalarga]

I should watch more classic episodes with these two

+ flats and lineart :3

[rosenkranz-does-things]

we choose it 🌏

[tlirsgender]

Being critical of your interests is sooooo fun when you have the critic gene & then you sound kind of insane to the average tv watcher when you're like "this is my favorite show, It's Racist" & then you try to clarify what you mean & get that [Speech (legendary) - FAILURE] "the racism is really interesting though"

[tlirsgender]

[Speech (legendary) - SUCCESS] I find the sociopolitical context of pulpy old sci-fi born circa the civil rights movement really fascinating to analyze especially when it was progressive for its time but still reveals the writers' unexamined biases in the subtext

[dismalice]

@bosstonius

There has been a disturbance in the water; a change drastic enough that its vibrations can be felt from miles away, if her distant scouts' thoughts are correct. Her network will soon deliver news from the site, but this time... This time, something compels her to investigate personally. There's an unusual but familiar presence she can't quite place, shifting not only in strength, but also elevation. The surface-dwellers have been known to excavate the ruins of the old structures their ancestors built during her girlhood, but such a large change all at once is entirely unprecedented.

And so she heads toward the source, her movements slow as she ponders what she might find when she arrives. By the time she reaches her destination, it looks as if whatever surface creatures were at the scene have already passed. Except... No, there's still someone here. She can sense them, somewhere among the crumbling ruins that she assumes must be a recently-uncovered ancient structure. It does look familiar to her... Perhaps she encountered it once before, in her youth, before she realised the importance of such things. Regardless, her first priority is to establish contact with whomever it is that she senses. They can't be too far from the water. Perhaps, from higher ground, they can already see her at the surface.

"What... are... you?" Oh yes, there's definitely someone there. It will take her mind some time to learn how best to interact with theirs, but she recognises this as some manner of human, so she should be able to get basic ideas and questions across. What are they doing here alone? When venturing out this far from their homelands, she has only ever known them to travel in groups, aside from the occasional accident leaving one (usually soon to be deceased) human alone in the sea. "Are... you... lost? Do not... worry. Want... to help you."

[davidtennan-t]

this is permanently pinned on Donna’s fridge

[dismalice]

🧪 for alastor! who was his first victim, and why did he kill them?

...That's all he's being asked? This isn't the sort of thing you need a truth serum for, but he'll certainly take it.

"It was nothing too special, I'm afraid! I merely decided to take a hostile work environment into my own hands. We didn't have human resources departments in my time, you know." Not the modern kind that most have come to expect, anyway. Mostly just a bunch of old white men in tacky suits telling you to get over it or quit. "I grew tired of putting up with an insufferable nuisance of a 'colleague,' so I invited him to meet me for a hunting trip! I must confess I hadn't informed him of what would be on the menu. He hadn't prepared for such exotic prey!"

Alastor lets out a jolly laugh, as if recounting an innocent, nostalgic memory.

"I saved the best cuts for myself, and used the rest to fertilise my garden." The following harvest had been a pretty good one, if he remembers correctly! "The bones made for wonderful decor! They're much easier to work with than you might expect." And they have all sorts of practical uses, too! Both of the mundane and the magical variety. "It was an immensely valuable experience for me! Sometimes I do miss those simpler days."

[wonderwinters]

It was crystal clear that the snowman had next to no idea how to actually speak with someone belonging to loyalty. The children who made him didn't consider bringing it up to him, nor anyone in the North Pole. Not even his partners brought attention to it, so he had no basis on what to actually do and what to actually say. Oh, but there was no right way of speaking to someone if they had some sort of title, right? Every king was different, and there was nobody else like Lucifer Morningstar. A blessing to the unbeknownst deity of pride, a curse to the overly friendly, overly cautious Frosty. He looked both left and right when Lucifer brought up one of the intended activities visitors should (or could, because how did he even get here anyways?) indulge in. To the left, he spotted a lot of red spilled on the ground. On the everything, actually, Frosty noticed when he looked up and around that general vicinity. He slowly blinked, seeing if that would render his vision, but it hadn't. There was actually someone bleeding out that way, now. Frosty tried the other way, which was met with a bunch of Hell's inhabitants looking out of it. They stumbled around each other, bumped into each other, yelled at each other... Frosty looked for any signs of a bar, but nothing down that way was marked. What he saw instead was a syringe roll close to his feet from that area. He had a hand on his pipe as he stared at it silently. Frosty was more than aware of that was, alongside the other substances weren't related to alcohol. That would probably surprise Lucifer, given how quick to assuming he was about his intelligence. Frosty eventually put his coal eyes back onto the aforementioned king, hand still holding the piece of corncob from his mouth. His expression brightened, but not too much due to feeling unwelcome and not wanting to make Lucifer think or feel worse because of his behavior. The snowman's head tilted.

"A hotel you say?" It sounded better than staying around here. A hotel still posed the possibility of having all of these elements and more (the triple x mention still rolled around in his head) there, but there was something about it that stood out to Frosty. Based on his intuition, it seemed too specific to be a throwaway hotel that Frosty could stay in. Why would someone who hated his presence want to take him somewhere considered safer than the outside world that was Hell's Pride Ring? It couldn't be important to Lucifer, but the snowman could dig for more anyways. "That sounds quite lovely and mighty convenient for a visitor. Though, I didn't catch a sign for a hotel anywhere nearby. I don't mean to bother you, sir, but could you lead the way for me? It would be pretty silly if someone like me stumbled somewhere a snowman really shouldn't be."

[dismalice]

Lucifer watches Frosty take in the scene around them as if it hasn't been like this the entire time. It's almost fascinating, really, how dense this guy is. It almost feels like he's being pranked. But, alas, the situation he's found himself in is quite real, and Lucifer has just inadvertently volunteered himself as a hotel escort. (Not that kind! He's pretty sure he's still married!) That might be the best way to get this guy out of his hair, though, and getting him somewhere safe is probably the most responsible thing to do... It's what Charlie would want, right?

"You know what? Fuck it, why not! You're the exact kind'a weirdo my little girl likes to play with." He starts walking without waiting for an answer; Frosty better act now, or lose this opportunity forever! Not that he thinks it would do all that much for him other than provide some (hopefully very temporary) shelter. Alas, despite all his progress, Lucifer still doesn't treat the whole hotel thing all that seriously. A part of him hopes that this is just a game Charlie's playing. Something she'll lose interest in before the real danger comes knocking. Each and every day, that part of him grows quieter, and his flippant façade becomes more and more difficult to maintain. She's always been so much like him, and he never could leave well enough alone. Before he can think himself into an inescapable spiral of doom, Lucifer whirls around to face Frosty again. He's playing a dangerous game, walking backwards like that.

"Hey, you got ice powers in that fatass body?" Man, what the Hell? "I haven't seen real snow in eons. Don't think Charlie ever has." Maybe he can at least get a nice wintery, wonderlandy show out of this whole ordeal. The 'snow' in Hell is about as close to real snow as its rain is to real rain. Like, okay, yeah, it's definitely real, but it's all fucked up and evil and full of radiation or asbestos or something. Not the sort of substance he wants to have around his kid, even if she is an adult now.

"Asbestos..." Hey, isn't that what that deer guy's called...? Lucifer has no idea he just muttered (growled?) that out loud, and just keeps on talking as if nothing is amiss. "You better not hold out on me, snowboy!"

[sharedpast]

CUPPING HIS CHIN, LUKE READS the updated train schedule with growing displeasure. Looming above him and slightly swaying from the breeze, the departures and arrivals board throws a wrench in his plans. It wasn’t his instinct that lead him to check, but his mother’s. He didn’t mind, grateful for the opportunity to leave their flat. Adjusting to London is still difficult, and he misses Misthallery. It was so simple there when you didn’t take The Specter mystery into account. He wanted to visit for a while now, but time is not on his side.

THE POUT ON HIS FACE is replaced by surprise when someone speaks behind him. “Ah!” Luke startles, jumping in place. He turns on his heel to admonish the rude stranger only to pause at his appearance. His not-human appearance, his not-anything-Luke-has-ever-seen appearance. What’s more striking is his choice of words.

“Uh . . .” Luke’s slack jaw and wide eyes settle into a firm, disapproving look. Hands balled on his hips, Luke leans forward and frowns. “There’s no need for that kind of language, The Original Starwalker.” Once he aired his own truth, Luke’s posture relaxes and his expression turns into confused sympathy. “I’m sorry you’re upset. Are you new to London?”

[dismalice]

Starwalker doesn't at all notice that his sudden appearance has caused the boy any distress. Instead, he simply stares at him with perhaps the most unamused set of eyes that the world has ever seen. Nothing against this kid--he seems pretty nice--but Starwalker just can't get behind whatever this place is. City life isn't for him unless he's being famous in it, and he's starting to get tired of appearing in random places. This has to be at least the fourth or fifth time just this week alone.

"Never heard of it." Sounds pretty stupid if you ask him. He takes slightly too long to decide how to respond, unsure of how to proceed from here if he can't describe his experiences in terms of how much they do or do not piss him off. He may be a rude star creature, but he doesn't fancy upsetting a human kid with his language. Surely there must be a way...? Think, star thing, think!

"...You're a Lightner. Tell me about Lond Onn."

[slutpoppers]

[tesspool]

girlfriends