Taste Steel!

Training ✛✛ Stan&Butters

"Well, I don’t know if it would be any easier for me to obtain one, but… I’m sure I could scrounge up something." The paladin felt a little ill at the thought of stealing—no, borrowing— some kind of equipment without the king knowing. Were he found, the Grand Wizard would probably hound him until he got the information out of him and forbade him from ever seeing his mentor again.

When Stan spoke again, Butters bounced a bit on the balls of his feet and tried to focus the most he could on his movements. His footing seemed solid enough, and he looked up at Stan, who looked even greener than him.

Butters simply laughed and twirled his hammer expertly in his grip, nodding. He felt a bit cocky at that small motion, how fluid and natural it was, and he jokingly piped up with, “I was born ready, Marshwalker.”

#knightreplies #training #stan's inner 'proud dad' is showing

"I really need you to block this, okay, even if you get scared. You have to trust me, because I know you can do it, okay?" He was feeling sick, forcing himself not to imagine accidentally wounding this poor soul in front of him. For a moment, he considered that he might be ill, but his body decided against it last-minute.

Receiving a nod from the paladin, he readied his sword. Holding it at his side, he brought it up and over his head, striking downward with enough force for it to make a crack against Butters' hammer. Stan breathed a sigh of relief; Butters wasn't split in half. In fact, he seemed to be holding up pretty well, hammer clutched between his hands, shakily holding up the weight of Stan's swing.

"Good!" Stan exclaimed, bringing his sword to his side once again. "That was really very good! I'm surprised you blocked it so effectively, if I'm honest. You didn't even stumble."

Making Nice ; Kenny and Stan

There were a lot of things that Stan had said he'd never do, only to have his metaphorical vows broken; meeting the princess was one of them. He'd never intended to even see her, but curiosity and anxiety got the best of him. It was hard to resist knowledge when it was being withheld from him, especially by his own king. He felt betrayed, almost, and his pride was more than a little bit chipped.

Regardless, upon seeing King Kyle with the princess, he had begun to write up a message for her, a quick note he had slipped to her when nobody was looking or cared enough to question. The directions had been simple: meet him at the Giggling Donkey at a disclosed time to discuss personal matters. Looking back, that seemed a bit sketchy, but that was precisely the reason he chose the tavern as his meeting place. He didn't want her to feel threatened by someone who meant no harm, and as far as he knew, he meant no harm.

He waved a hand, beckoning for mead while he waited. He'd downed a pint already, but he was getting increasingly concerned that the princess hadn't accepted--or worse, that she had told someone of their arranged meeting. What if his intentions were misinterpreted? What if he was suspected of treason? Surely there would be little dispute. He was a human, after all, and he'd been trusted doubtfully. The mead arrived, which he was thankful for. Still, there was not much else he was capable of than waiting. So he waited.

#knightreplies #making nice #maidenmccormick

Training ✛✛ Stan&Butters

It was honestly hard to imagine Marshwalker—tan, muscular, tall— ever being Butters’ size. The thought was strange, and Butters wrinkled his nose."Well, I don’t really think I’ll get much bigger than this, I’m afraid. I’m about out’a growing power."

Butters smiled softly and watched Stan thinking, before nervously beginning to speak. Honestly, Butters didn’t know why he was afraid at all! He had a commanding presence, and his words were careful and measured with the slightest hint of hesitance, as though he was scared he was going to frighten the paladin off.

"Oh, uh. I have a shield, somewhere, but…well, it wasn’t actually mine. My father’s, and I can barely hold it, let alone drag it around in battle." The paladin looked down sheepishly, holding his hammer and spinning it in his hands. "I’ve been taught, but I wasn’t very good. Battle wasn’t exactly an imperative part of my training as a paladin, you see, ‘cause most of ‘em play supporting roles. But the human kingdom’s got too many’a those, so I got stuck on the front lines. Sometimes the fellas back home call me the human shield, since that seems to be all I’m really good for." Again, Butters looked down sheepishly.

#knightreplies #training #IM SORRY ALSO ABOUT THE WAIT XX

On the bright side, they were establishing a dialogue, albeit a tentative one. He reckoned, from his position, that the paladin would make a pretty good supporting or defensive class, should he become confident enough to work on his skills. That was his main problem, Stan decided. He just didn't believe he was a good enough paladin. Self confidence would come later, though. "Well, hm, that sure is a problem. Do you know of any obtainable training shields? I could perhaps manage to secure one, though it may be risky..." He trailed off, mumbling his thoughts aloud before snapping back to reality with a nervous laugh.

"I suppose the first thing is to, ah, show me how you would go about a block. I'll swing, okay, and you block it how you were taught." The look on Butters' face made him smile sympathetically, and he felt it was necessary to reassure his safety. "I--oh god, I wouldn't swing it at you! Please, you make me feel like I'm going to murder you in cold blood, which I really have no intention of doing!" He raises his sword, slashing at the air a few times again.

"Are you ready?"

Not in the Description (Stan and Kyle)

Kyle blinked a few times at the offer, before losing his eye contact with a slightly flustered chuff. “I…well I can take it off, but I don’t think it’s really needed for you to carry me…” He trailed off though, thinking it over before looking back up and giving a devious grin. “However I am in heels, and they are terribly uncomfortable. So I think I’ll take you up on that offer after all. Just let me get the corset off and we’re good to go.”

Hands slipped into the bell sleeves and in the dress behind his back. His tongue poked out and curled as he fidgeted around to untie the cords and loosen them enough for the fabric to allow him to breathe. He breathed in and held it until he felt the cords lose their hold on him, and he breathed out with a chuckle as he pulled it back through the sleeve and felt his torso moving back to its normal state. He soon plunged his free hand down the front of his shirt, pulling out the mounds of cloth used to form his chest. “I have never felt better than now to be honest.” He stated, holding the garments in his hands. “Women are insane. Clearly.” He soon put his arms out cheekily. “Okay, ready when you are.”

#knightreplies #not in the description #SORRY ABOUT THE WAIT OH MY GOODNESS

Stan smiled, scooping his king up and trying to gain his footing. Kyle wasn't the heaviest he'd carried, but he was certainly not the lightest load he'd had to bear. Plus, he had never actually carried a person in such a fashion so calmly; the last time he had done this sort of carry, a fellow had broken his leg and required assistance to get to an infirmary. Needless to say, it was much nicer to carry Kyle, who did not have a bone sticking out of his leg and seemed more than content to be in his arms. "What will they think," Stan asked aloud, trudging through the forest, "of their king, dolled up as though a maiden out for a romantic getaway." He shook his head, glanced down at Kyle nervously, and let his conversation die out. Kyle seemed to be tired, though not enough to fall asleep, and he let the silence remain. He was tired, too, now that all the stress had vanished in his relief and embarrassment. After a comfortable gap in conversation, he said "I bet the council will be extremely surprised to see this."

nheyguys-deactivated20181204

i have a problem

#headcanon #oh my GOD LOOK AT STAN AND CHRIS #ooc #knightart

Not in the Description (Stan and Kyle)

"Stanley please, use my real name when we’re alone." He cooed softly, letting go of the knights chin and hand slid to rest on his shoulder once more. "You know how much I hate formalities in public, let alone in private. Especially from you." He gave a chuckle and moved his hands to cradling Stan’s face, his closeness however still standing. "No, they’re just jealous you’re at my side and they’re not. But there is no way I will allow you to be in the front lines without me. You are mine and I cannot replace you. Nor do I think I can live without you."

Kyle gave a sigh and ran a hand through Stan’s locks before finally letting go of him. Slowly and hesitantly however. “I think. I think I may have a compromise I can push forward. Where you can have it both ways. And I think I can voice it once we get back; now that I’m in a much better mood.” He fidgeted a little; as if trying to pull something under his dress bodice. “And I think, that I need to get back and get this stupid corset off. I find it amazing women can still breathe in them.” He suddenly wrapped his arms around himself and blushed a bit. “Can we go home now Stan? I think we’ve been gone long enough now.”

#not in the description #knightreplies #stan: waxing poetic about his king. ultra gay

Stan's cheeks tinted pink, his heart thumping in his chest. The king, allowing such informalities with him? And calling him irreplaceable? He felt as though he was dreaming, and if he jostled himself too hard, he'd wake up. If it was a dream, he definitely didn't want to wake up. If he had to, he'd keep it a secret forever, but Kyle's closeness was almost too good to be true. He hadn't been within hugging distance of the king since the two of them were much younger. He'd never given the king a hug, then. Kyle finally pulled away, and he didn't feel so hot and sticky without the king's warm body pressed against his chest. He wondered if that's why children clung to their mothers whenever they could, or why lovers never wanted to separate when in proximity. "If you'd, ah, like to, you could take the corset off. And I can carry you if it's winded you!" Stan smiled shyly, trying to maintain eye contact but failing miserably. "I mean, you are more than welcome to decline, your m--Kyle."

Training ✛✛ Stan&Butters

When Butters stood in the growing darkness with the knight’s eyes on him, he couldn’t help but feel…poweful. Buzzing with energy, the magic around them swelling. He smiled, rather peacefully, and curled his hands absently before turning them so that his palms faced the sky. It was nice, being here again. He felt stronger than he had in any of the years he’d been serving in the kingdom of Kupa Keep, and it was lovely. The idea of being able to show off, just the littlest bit, made him grin.

Stan’s voice cut through the silence easily, and Butters smiled and chirped out his words. “Well, ah, I trained here for a while learning how to control my faith and magic. From there, I went on to traditional paladin’s training with my hammer…” He trailed off, rather distracted, as he pulled the hammer from a loop on his belt.

As if rehearsed, it tumbled rather comically from his grip and he giggled nervously, scrambling to pick it up and brush it off.

When Stan spoke, he sighed and drooped, and it was clear that the knight noticed, as he was quick to backpedal and shower him with reassurances. It helped a little, as he puffed out his chest once more. When he spoke of the king, Butters flushed a bit, pleased, and nodded. “Well…you know, I bet he sure would be proud! The princess too! Oh, oodelally, Marshwalker, I’m awfully glad you agreed to do this with me, I’m feelin’ better about myself already!” And it was true. There was no doubt that Stan was an amazing teacher, what with the elves having a rather superior army (no matter how many times he slandered them in front of the king for the same of soothing him as he ranted).

He watched Stan draw his sword and looked on, eyes wide and curious. “That thing looks awful heavy, how in the world do you manage to hold it so easily?”

#knightreplies #training #oodELALLY

It was kind of amusing at how quickly Butters' mood could change with just a simple compliment, and the idea that it was Stan that made him feel better made him feel pretty good. It wasn't his intention to make Butters feel bad about himself; he honestly didn't have very good training, it seemed. "Well, I'm pretty strong, I suppose. When I was about your size, it was definitely a struggle to hold, but I'm taller and older and now I can hold it right." To test his own words, he lobbed the sword around in his hand--it felt as light as his old training swords had, and he wondered to himself how long ago he had become strong enough to make that comparison. "Soon you'll be pretty strong, right?" He recieved a beaming nod from the paladin and took it as his cue to keep talking. He backpedaled, rubbing his neck with his free hand. "Okay, um, Butters, right? Yes, okay, well, the first thing you need to do is learn how to effectively block and dodge with that hammer. If you have a shield, it'll be easier, but until then, we'll work with the hammer." Stan smiled, looking at the paladin, who was eating up his words like they were a feast. "Have you been taught any ways to block?" He figured if Butters did know any technique, he could build off what he already knew and fix any missing information.

Training ✛✛ Stan&Butters

"Well, gosh, don’t worry about it! I understand a million times over— Why, if I were that strong, I wouldn’t have any reservations about beatin’people up the way you do! It’s honestly no surprise that the king picked you." Perhaps his voice was a little too chipper for the words he was speaking, but he was far too excited to calm himself.

Butters smiled and adjusted his cape before beginning to walk toward the location they would be using to train. The walk was rather silent, save for Butters’ humming and whistling and the sounds of the woods around them. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon when they arrived, and Butters turned, arms outstretched in a gesture.

"Well, here we are! I know it ain’t much, but it’s… well, it’s home." His voice was softer than it had been in his excitement, and he looked up the hill at the dinky little church that cast its shadow down upon them. Ah yes, back to the place he’d spend his childhood training in, to the place where he’d been kicked into the dirt far too many times to count. It felt almost right to be here, to return and learn to become a new warrior; a warrior worthy of the title he’d been given.

With the pink sun floating just above the skyline and the church's long black shadow beside his own, Butters looked like a truly holy man, oranges and purples reflecting off his halo of a headband. Stan could see the appeal of this location; in the light it seemed to be teeming with magic, so much that the knight could feel it pooling in the air around him.

"I think it's lovely." He wished he could paint it, or at least put the image of it away in his memory better than he knew he would. "I--I mean it. It's feels, ahm, holy? I'll happily train you here." He could tell the praise that the little clearing recieved was boosting the paladin's morale, because his skinny shadow shifted a little straighter, chest puffed more proudly.

"Now, firstly, what sort of training did you recieve previously?" He removed the sword at his side from its holster, slicing the air as though to test how its density fared against his blade. "I have no intention of offending you, but your hand-to-hand combatting skills are, um, lackluster. At best. At worst, a little sad."

The shadow drooped. Stan swore under his breath, then thought better of it; he was in a holy place, after all. "But that's why I'm here now! You'll be an incredible fighter by the time we finish! Your king should be very proud of you for taking the initiative without prompting! I would be."

#knightreplies #training

Not in the Description (Stan and Kyle)

Kyle attempted a smile, before his bottom lip quivered and his brows creased to stop himself from crying. Something he wouldn’t like to show his knight it’s all he wanted to do. Instead he lamely threw Stan’s hands behind him to shuffle forward and wrap his arms around him tightly. “It’s more they’re concerned your presence is making me…well, encouraging me to sway to other things and this is preventing a marraige or even courtship of young women.” He scoffed at the sentence, finding it as ridiculous as before. “I think I am capable of making my own decisions with that aren’t i? I hardly need you tempting me.”

"They said something else that I found…odd." He squeezes his arms a little tighter as he bit his tongue gently to find the words. "In fact, your skills did come into play and they’re well, impressed. You’re the best we have. Ike is the only one that may be able to challenge and just lose by a hair. But they…they wanted you on the front lines. To lead the charge should another war break out." He leant back a bit; his fingers resting under Stan’s chin to tilt his head to look into his eyes. "And I said? No. Unless I was there with you." He finally mustered a smile. "So you can tell what kind of argument ensued before I decided to leave and hide out here. No doubt this will be the topics for weeks to come."

#not in the description #knightreplies

"What," Stan questioned, "Do they assume me to be some harlot intending to steal you from your royal duties as king? I have always followed the council's decisions!" He gave Kyle a defiant squeeze, a hand rising to plop on top of his king's curls. Part of him was nervous about being so close to Kyle; he had been trudging through the thick of the forest, and he was still a bit sweaty and heated from the exertion of it. Still, Kyle looked as though he might burst into tears at the first loss of contact, so he held onto him all the same.

"My lord, I, ah, appreciate the sentiment, but a location of active confrontation is no place for someonr so vital for the survival of the kingdom!" He smiled awkwardly, unable to break the eye contact he was being held in. "I, on the other hand, have no choice but to serve the kingdom should a war arise." He paused, chewing on his next words for a while. He wondered why there was talk of war and why the council chose him specifically for the front lines.

"Not that I would go against the council, your grace, but, um, do they intend to send me to into the throes of battle in an attempt to eradicate me from your presence for good?"

Not in the Description (Stan and Kyle)

Kyle swished his lower half a little bit, still giggling to himself. “It is quite a sight isn’t it? But it is kinda pretty. Although the corset isn’t comfy at all and I don’t know why I agreed to wear it but here we are.” He slowly moved over to the embarrassed knight; placing hands on his broad shoulders and giving them a comforting squeeze. “Of course I told you in high regard! You are my knight, my right hand man and you’re my best friend! Why wouldn’t i think that of you?”

his grip tightened slightly; and his face fell a little to that of concern and a bit of guilt. “I apologise for well, this. I did not mean to make you worry so much; I just wanted a bit of space. An of course wanted you to vent! I could tell you needed to for a while. I’m glad that you’ve finally had the chance to.” He moved to grip the knight’s hands and move them away from his face. “Unfortunately the reason I hid was the situation with the council struck a nerve. I didn’t want to burden you but maybe you should know that they…” He pursed his lips with a frown. “Well it had to do with our…well with how close we are. They wanted to…t-they want to take you away from me.”

#knightreplies #not in the description

“Take me away? I—I’m not sure I follow.” He squeezed Kyle’s fingers, furrowing his brows and trying to make sense of what his king was saying.

It didn’t take long for him to wrap his head around it; it was an obvious conclusion. He was a human, essentially an unmentionable in an elven kingdom. He was practically breaking the rules and social norms simply by existing.

“That...that’s blatent racism, isn’t it? I worked myself to death just to get to this position, and believe me, I will fight tooth and nail to remain as I am!” The thought of someone else as Kyle’s bodyguard, his right hand, made his blood boil in his veins. Had he not participated in training like those he had grown up with? Had he not prevailed over them and won his place as King Kyle’s knight? Had he nothing to show for himself?

“Try as they might, the council will not take you away from me so easily! I should think your opinion worth more than that!”

30 Day Challenge: Day 1 -- Basics and Cosmetic

Age? 21 Date of Birth? October 19, 1993 (assuming this au has the same way of keeping time) Hair color? black Eye color? brown Skin color/nationality? olive skin, possibly Armenian? Accent (if any)? n/a Height? 5'11" Weight? 155 Tattoos? nope Piercings? nope Birthmarks? two blotchy circles on his stomach, one above and one directly left of his belly button Disfigurements? nah Scars? lots on his hands, some on shoulders and legs Do they have any nicknames? Where did they come from? stan, a more convenient version of stanley

#30 day challenge #OOC

asgardianthunder-archive-bl-blog

The most in-depth 30 day character development meme you'll ever find.

Because I wanted to see something that really got into the nitty gritty details of a character.

I tried to organize it into sections and equalize the amount of writing you’d be doing each day, but obviously that’s going to vary from character to character. Good luck, and may the force be with you.

#i guess i'll do this too! 0-:

Training ✛✛ Stan&Butters

There was an almost tense silence between them, and the paladin chewed his lip, knuckles knocking as he waited rather impatiently for the knight to make up his mind. He could tell easily that he wasn’t making a very good impression— not that he really made one when they first met, what with Marshwalker literally kicking his ass into the dirt without so much as breaking a sweat.

Honestly, he hadn’t expected Stan to even consider him, let alone accept with a slightly bitter sigh.

After he spoke, Butters all but crumpled, looking down pitifully. “You know, I… well, I can offer you money, though I’ve not got much. I really hope that it can make you reconsi— Wait, r-really?" He looked up and met Marshwalker’s gaze, eyes wide and bright with astonishment and thankfulness. "Oh, gracious alive, thank you! I promise, you won’t regret this!"

As he spoke again, he nodded eagerly and hung onto every word.

"I know the perfect place," he said, more to himself than the knight before him. He was thinking of the open clearing just by one of the abandoned human outposts, one by the church he’d grown up praying and learning in. "Sir, I will do my very best to ensure you safety within your kingdom. Your dedication and willingness to help me will not go unnoticed by the thunderous Gods, I assure you." He was practically glowing with happiness, and he rocked to his toes and back to his heels.

"Um…by the way, sir, I think you’re mighty amazing. You’re so…well, golly, you’re so strong and brave and noble, all while coming in as an underdog. You know, what with you bein’ a human and all…" He trailed off, willing himself to shut up rather than let his accept slip out further in his excitement.

#knightreplies #training #its short im sry it relies on u since i dont know the location :-(

Stan blushed a little, running a hand over the back of his neck and grinning. "Uh, wow, thanks I guess. Sorry about, you know, beating on you. It's my job, so..." He trailed off, looking up at the sky and rubbing his toe into the dirt.

He'd never considered himself to be much of a good teacher; in training he'd always gotten the name of movements mixed up, though he knew how to complete them. He had created a pattern to remember them, but he'd forgotten that when he graduated from the stage in which memorizing patterned attacks was necessary.

"Well, uh, okay. I guess you know the best place, so lead the way, paladin."

Not in the Description (Stan and Kyle)

Kyle gave a soft sigh before lifting a sleeve to rub at his face; faint traces of freckles unearthing themselves from the amounts of makeup layers on his face. “I really think you don’t think of yourself very highly if you don’t think you’re considered a friend to the king. You seem to be the only one he keeps close and in high regards.” He slid off the rock and moved around to face him. “I think you should know he considers you a very close friend. Possibly closer than he admits. And maybe he just didn’t want to hurt your feelings by telling you he needed space.”

He twirled a strand of hair again and hummed before speaking again. “That may be true. Or maybe you don’t like to think about it because you like the responsibility of protecting and caring for the king instead. I mean, some people like to have a companion in someone withot having such a commitment to them at times. That I find is completely normal.”

he have a small grin, before deciding to pull the wig off and shake his curls out before running a finger through them. “But it’s very nice for you to hold me in such high regards.” He gave a grin and giggled. “Do you feel a bit better now you’ve had a chance to vent?”

#knightreplies #not in the description #DONT LOOK AT ME IM SO

Stan's mouth moved, though no words were passing through them; he was caught off-guard, completely embarrassed that he'd been spilling his concerns about his king to his king. He blinked a few times, trying to test if he was just imagining things or if Kyle had really been allowing him to bluster about the entire time.

"My lord!" Stan cried, turning red and standing, eyes darting everywhere but at his king. "You're wearing a dress!" He ran a hand through his hair, feeling nervous, and tried again. "I--I mean, it looks lovely, but it's, ah, startling! And, um, I, uh, I apologize immensely for all that!"

Stan took a seat on the rock again, cupping his face in his hands in an attempt to hide himself. A silence passed between them, but it was not unwelcome. "You hold me in high regards?" He asked after the pause, voice muffled by his hands.

Training ✛✛ Stan&Butters

Alright, maybe he should have just given the knight a little time to process the fact that he was here rather than rush straight into what he wanted. The man seemed taken off guard, to say the least, and Butters could tell the alcohol in his system clearly wasn’t helping very much.

"W-Well, that’s the thing exactly. I came for, um. Ah, well…" Butters shuffled and knocked his fists together harshly, swallowing thickly his nervousness and embarrassment. "I came for battle training." The last words were all but winced, and Butters squeezed his eyes shut as if expecting a blow.

When he didn’t receive one, he looked at his feet and sighed.

“If you need a reason, I… Well, I’m kinda tired of being the worst fighter in the human kingdom. That’s all.” He looked up to meet the knight’s eyes, face burning with shame, and he attempted a shaky smile. Maybe it was the nerves getting to him, maybe it was his mind playing tricks on him in an attempt to make him feel better, but he almost felt as if Marshwalker was…well, feeling a little bad for the paladin.

There was a definite softness, albeit confusion, in his eyes, and Butters felt a little spark of hope in his chest, which made him stand a little taller at attention. “I’m not too good at this whole combat thing, sir, but I’m willing to learn and cooperative.”