Saint of Knaves @saintofknaves - Tumblr Blog

saintofknaves‌:

“Cú… No shit? I’ve gone toe to toe with legends and descendants of legends but never any kind of faerie. Just. Cultists mostly. Mermaids sometimes. Ghosts.”

“You really think there’s a goddess here, though?” He looks up at the moon, blows some smoke rings around it, catches it for himself for just a second until the snow disturbs enough air to shred the fragile rings.

Cú listened intently. A man whose heart was full of desire and yet it lacked the one wish to believe. He inhaled, tasting the bitter smoke.

“Why shouldn’t be a goddess here? You seem to be the one completely opposite to me. I don’t have any wishes more than living every single day. But still, I can’t imagine the one behind this not bein’ a real goddess. If she’s done her thing out of kindness or if there’s some hidden reason, it doesn’t bother me.”

His gaze followed the other’s, back into the icy moon.

“If there isn’t a goddess, then, what brought us here? Is that what you’re tryin’ to discover?”

saintofknaves

“If it is a goddess behind this... well that’s one goddess I’ve met without my grandpa getting there first. But in my experience things aren’t always so simple. It could just be that we sent ourselves here. It could be some creep using us for weird labor in a distant, frozen land! Whatever the truth is, I’ve just gotta know.”

He takes another big drag and thinks for a moment, scratching his chin before playfully blowing the cloud of smoke and icy, foggy breath at Cú. “We should take bets on it! A little competition that’s not with hungry wild animals does a body good.”

trckstrthokk-blog

( lupin )·:

Lupin’s shoulders snap up to attention and he wheels around on his heels on the ice… and keeps spinning in that direction because of the momentum. He decides to let himself spin until he stops rather than try to pull himself out of it because he knows. He swears. He will fall.

“Oh? Oh? I haven’t gotten any offers until now.” He smiles, so wide, so bright and his eyes shine with mirth and… craftiness. But really? He’s listening to her voice. He can’t pick up any accents she knows so quickly gives up. That woman’s probably not from Earth. “You know, I can’t just turn down an offer from a pretty lady like you but I’m real curious. You’re not gonna just kill me out in the snow or something are you? Leave me stranded tied to an icicle while you make off with the moss?”

It’s clear he’s joking around, but there’s something there–it’s not even wariness it’s amusement akin to hearing the same joke for the fifth time– that suggests these things HAVE absolutely happened to him before.

{♣} —; She watches him spin on the spot, settling into a more comfortable demeanor as he does so. Most people would have stopped themselves, but he had not. If her hunch wasn’t right before, it certainly was now—for this wasn’t a man cut from the cloth of the common mass. It seems like she has her work cut out for her.

{♣} —; “Oh, pretty? Me? I’m flattered, darling—I’ll be sure to bring more than just beauty to the table though with my accompaniment.” she grips her staff , bowing a little bit before stifling a small laugh. Oh, what a thing to say. There’s no accusation in his voice—merely jest. Just what sort of uncouth women has he been dealing with?

{♣} —; “Why I’d never do anything like that! I love being a big help to people, especially dashing adventurers such as yourself. You’re aware of the dangers though, right? You wouldn’t want to be mauled by a bear would you? I do promise however, I will neither kill you in cold blood or leave you strapped to an icicle—not my style.”

saintofknaves

“Of course I know the dangers out there. I go through stuff like this about once every five years. Bears and ice and cold? No big deal. It’s the things I don’t know I’m a little worried about. Alchemy and all that.” He rubs his hands together. “But the best way to learn is by the seat of your pants! If I run into anything terrible and magical do you know how to deal with it or do we just hit it with your staff and run?”

He’s already unfolding a map (hand drawn and remarkably accurate, probably half-copied, half observed because the detail gets sparser farther from the settlement) to show to her. “Where do you think the best stuff is, ma’am? If you know. I’ll let you pick our destination.”

trckstrthokk

{♣} —; Cold, lifeless, dull. All these words were the sort to describe the generic atmosphere in Eidolon. It was just like the rock, sitting by the side of the road. Nothing exciting, sitting still even with people passing by here and there. She was bored. Biding time was her specially but this? Ridiculous.

{♣} —; She’d almost gotten up to leave before there was a bit of a ruckus. She scanned the room for the noise, watching as others dismissed his antics as drunken drivel and the babbling of a foolhardy man. Though she knew what this was. A diamond in the rough. Treasure—adventure—possible mauling in the wild? Oh she couldn’t miss this.

{♠} —; “Really—no one watching your back? Sounds to me like you could use some company, traveler.” she says, strutting over confidently. “I haven’t seen someone get so worked up here in a while, you know. You said something about a castle? Care if I come along with you—I just have to see what a person such as yourself is capable of. Maybe I can even be of some assistance, what do you say?”

Lupin’s shoulders snap up to attention and he wheels around on his heels on the ice... and keeps spinning in that direction because of the momentum. He decides to let himself spin until he stops rather than try to pull himself out of it because he knows. He swears. He will fall.

“Oh? Oh? I haven’t gotten any offers until now.” He smiles, so wide, so bright and his eyes shine with mirth and... craftiness. But really? He’s listening to her voice. He can’t pick up any accents she knows so quickly gives up. That woman’s probably not from Earth. “You know, I can’t just turn down an offer from a pretty lady like you but I’m real curious. You’re not gonna just kill me out in the snow or something are you? Leave me stranded tied to an icicle while you make off with the moss?”

It’s clear he’s joking around, but there’s something there--it’s not even wariness it’s amusement akin to hearing the same joke for the fifth time-- that suggests these things HAVE absolutely happened to him before.

He’s loud. He makes no effort to disguise his small talk and plans and really having no natural enemy (yet) worthy of his wariness he’s gotten cocky. Lately he’s been getting as much information on the valuable things that can be gathered around the settlement, what they do and how exactly to do it... and how rare they are--

--how hard they are to get--

--how dangerous they are to acquire.

Without some kind of challenge he knew his little heart would go septic in his chest and kill him on the spot, more or less. There’s no rough voice to talk him down for stupid ideas, not that he would have listened to that voice anyway but the lack of familiar resistance or even familiar goading gnaws at him in a way he can’t say he likes. “It’s just like the castle that first time again, huh?” He speaks to himself as he readies his meager supplies outside the bunkhouse. “No one watching my back, I have no idea where I’m going. It’s perfect.” Lupin is only vaguely aware of the volume of his self-direction, mentally noting tasks out loud, checking a small list of things he’s searching for. The moss. The little crystals... and anything that looks like a useful material he can use to replicate valuable things by looks alone.

He can’t let forgery go stale after all.

If he knew he had caught someone’s attention, he probably wouldn’t have cared. @trckstrthokk

#wildcard - starters #trcktrthokk

blue-hound

“The name’s Cú Chulainn, or just Cú. Some around call me Lancer. Don’t worry, all works.” He inhaled again and looked up into the icy moon, it was one pleasant last snow.

“So an inventor was dragged into this place, searching for a wish. In the end, I think it’s us the ones who got themselves here, more than being summoned, y’know? Still. We’re trapped. But I guess an inventor like you probably realized what was goin’ on.” He smiled, careless as he exhaled another white cloud.

“So far so good, until the goddess decides to get rid of us.”

“Cú... No shit? I’ve gone toe to toe with legends and descendants of legends but never any kind of faerie. Just. Cultists mostly. Mermaids sometimes. Ghosts.”

“I know I got myself into this mess my heart is so full of desire~! Someone so full of wishes must have been irresistible to a force like that.” He makes an exaggerated gesture, hand on his heart and a terrible little wink. “But it all seems just a little farfetched to me still. And I’ve seen everything from Nessie to nahuals. I did think it was some kinda trap, a real elaborate one.” He almost goes on to say JUST how impossible he is to catch but leaves that out for now. “You really think there’s a goddess here, though?” He looks up at the moon, blows some smoke rings around it, catches it for himself for just a second until the snow disturbs enough air to shred the fragile rings.

blue-hound

Nightlife? Oh, right, he had forgotten about that. This ‘nightlife’ of modern times was quite different from the nightlife involving raids, plunder, and feasting. It took a few seconds for him to understand how quiet the footsteps of that stranger truly were. Was he a hunter of some sorts?

“Sure,” Cú picks up one of the matches, offering it. “Shame your lighter isn’t working. Those things are the best. I kinda miss ‘em too.” He sighed, dishearted, just remember the advantages of the modern era he wouldn’t see anytime soon.

“And yup, that’s right. You see, I have several jobs across the village and sometimes I gather stuff for one of the alchemists. I chose to be paid like this.” The smile widened, it was clear the stranger shared a similar interest.

“Name’s?”

“I’m still figuring everything out. I’m a bit of an inventor. An artist. But really I wanna know the locals and the food before I dive into workin and hunting.” He strikes and takes a couple of puffs and doesn’t seem to care the cigarettes are poor quality. He looks as happy as can be, puffs his chest full of smoke and lets it flood out his nose and mouth in billowing clouds with a satisfied sigh. “I’m real excited, whether anything grants wishes here or not... I’ll never be bored.” Name though. He considers giving one of his aliases for a second, remembers sadly--and with some strange excitement-- it doesn’t really matter here. He drops any connotation he ever came from a family with a legacy. “Lupin. Just Lupin is fine! N’ you?

I’m gonna be more active on here now and got some more following so it is time for another STARTER CALL

I’m gonna leave it uncapped for now!

#eido rp ad #already forgot my ooc tag cool

blue-hound

His eyes had closed as he inhaled deeply and sighed a white mist. Yet his senses easily caught the silhouette in the darkness. One eye opened, bright red, a slit pupil like a large beast. But there was no malice, instead, a friendly blink regarded him.

“Oi. I’m guessin’ you also need a break from the Bunkhouse’s mess?” He finally turned his head, inviting him to approach.

“It’s a nice one, probably the last of the year.” He judged the stranger, an adult with a scruffy look, a human, most likely another of the “wishers” as he lacked the local folk charm.

“Want a cig? They taste like tinder but it’s better than nothin” A hand reached to his side, holding out the hand-made box.

”Believe it or not I’m used to living in that kinda mess. It’s not too bad but I’m too nosy to stay warm. Not much nightlife out here though.” several long strides through the snow and it’s probably evident he has his socks roped to the bottom of his shoes instead of on his feet.. A little weird, yeah, but it muffles his footsteps a fair amount. Lupin makes a very tiny, joyful noise at being offered a smoke. He goes from smooth and cocky to Immediate Friend. “Oh, oh I owe you. Yeah I’d love one! Where’d you get a hold of them? I figured maybe some alchemists here might make ‘em.” He reaches inside the lining of his jacket--not the obvious pocket where his hand should have gone--and pulls out a little cheap lighter... which clicks and clicks and the flint never strikes a spark. He groans and gives up on it. “Mind if I use a match, there....?

blue-hound-blog1

@saintofknaves

That was probably the last snow of the year. Or at least, so he guessed. He could feel it, just like he used to feel the Wheel of the Seasons back when he was still alive in Ireland.

it was the gentle cold, a reminder the winter season would soon fade like a white dream at dawn. And he could only wonder what it meant for the residents of Eidolon and the goddess.

Cú stepped out of the bunkhouse, his hands buried in the warmth of his pockets soon knew the cold of the night as they retrieved a cigarette and a box of matches.

He stood outside, lighting up the fire between his hands as he inhaled, sighing a wave of sweet smoke. Cú looked up at the starless sky as the silent flakes continued to fall onto his face. It was a strange happy peace.

saintofknaves

The usual boisterous manner leaves itself in his bunkhouse. He'd worked out how to be completely silent, but to be silent and warm at the same time was something else entirely with the gear he had now. Still, the smell of tobacco smoke pulls him in like a magnet pulls iron. Usually he'd just stride up, slip a cig out of whatever pack someone was holding, light his and theirs and hope to strike up a conversation but he stops short.

This guy is one of those hero-types, or that's what Lupin calls them to himself. People with big weapons and wild intensity he'd only ever truly encountered before in one guy he was lucky enough to have on his side.

It's a good chance to watch and learn, so he stands back and slows his approach. Maybe find out about these people... after all they seemed more at home in a place full of alchemy and monsters than he did, and Lupin usually considered himself more versed in supernatural encounters than most people.

streetsworn

saintofknaves‌.

Another day, another building decades of know how about the world from scratch. This is hardly a problem for Lupin.

People-watching is a forte of his, not to mention a joy. With quite a few slips and stumbles he gets himself up to a nice vantage point and peers over the landscape like an ermine popping out of the snow.

People’s habits give a small idea of who is who is what and how, and even a gait might let him know who is angry, who is haughty, who is friendly and who he needs to relieve of special possessions (though he doubts he’ll note anything juicy this early on).

What he does note is cigar smoke and that wakes up a heavy pang for nicotine in his throat. It’d be a good idea to make friends. He slides down the roof to try to land in front of the guy but misjudges the depth of the snow and winds up face down in a snowbank with his legs in the air like an awkward spring flower.

@cudgel

HE HAD JUST WANTED TO enjoy his cigar in peace ─ but, apparently, not even THAT could be made simple for him! his eyes narrow into a sharp, judgmental stare as a body manifests from ABOVE( but kudos to him! roman hadn’t spotted the man earlier ─ not the easiest task, going undetected by a man with such sharp skills ) and lands pathetically into a snow drift in front of him. his brows pinch together in confusion over anything else. how can he feel irritated at a time like this? it’s almost… comical.

roman sighs, taking another inhale and tapping off the excess before giving the stranger ( or, more accurately, his legs ) his attention.

❝i may not be the most suitable man to judge acrobatics, ❞ he starts, ❝but i don’t think i need a degree to tell you how poorly that landing was executed. ❞ his tone is deadpan with an expression to match. he shifts his weight into his cane, letting his cigar rest freely in his other hand. maybe he should offer a hand for assistance, but… nah, he doesn’t feel like it.

❝ is there any particular reason you’ve decided to descend in front of me, or were you really just trying that for fun? ❞

saintofknaves

The landing was graceless, but the reversal flip that got him out of the snow and onto his feet again was close to the opposite and definitely needed some kind of core strength to execute.

But he still looked like a fool. A cold fool. A cold fool whose face, red from the cold, somehow just made his sheepish greeting smile seem... disgusting amounts more cheerful. “Yeah I trained for years but I never really could pull of stunts like ol’ grandpa. It’s just not my thing.” He dusts as much of the wet flakes off of himself as he can, finishing off by shaking like a dog in a big, exaggerated shiver. Then he points to the cigar. “I was actually hoping you could point me to someplace I could get some of that. I already ran outta my emergency stash because I chainsmoked on arrival. Y’ know. Real weird and stressful.”

#don't worry lupin exists to bother Big Rudes)

saintofknaves

The last thing Lupin expected to be a piece of familiarity in this cold, strange place was the familiar sound and appearance of dress shoes. Used to recognizing people by sound he had heard the soled first and wheeled around to wave, thinking (there he is, here to watch my back, he’s late and I’ll let him have it for that–) that it was someone else. A stranger wears those shoes, but they are just familiar enough that he thinks he should take a shot at communication, not to mention the fact he has to commit now that he’s waved down a stranger. On a whim, he greets in few languages one after the other, hoping if he casts more lines he’ll get a bite. English. French. Italian, since that was what he recognized in the cut of cloth and leather even if the fabric was… kinda eccentric. And a big grin he had been reserving for greeting a friend.

He didn’t mind sharing that. @stlckyflngers

deept000t-deactivated20250220

Bruno was used to getting stares and glances from people one way or another, back at home, it was because he was infamous. Here, it mostly because of his seemingly peculiar outfit and attitudes. He was more than used to getting an awkward glance at this point, but judging by the voice in the background, it was going to be quite different this time around. He hadn’t gotten a warm greeting in quite a while, let alone one in three languages. It was strange, but he could insinuate that maybe the person was just trying to talk to him. His outfit must’ve been a giveaway, wasn’t it? He couldn’t help but grin a little, ah, it was a giveaway, wasn’t it? Or this person could’ve been a fashion connoisseur of sorts. With that, he turns to face the man, his grin matching the other’s smiles.

“Ciao.”

saintofknaves

Bingo! He quickly and easily switches his conversation to Italian. “Oh boy I thought I wasn’t gonna find anyone from a similar era or country or... anything here. How long have you been freezing for?”

His reedy little arm sticks out, palm out for a handshake.

“Call me Lupin... That should be easy enough in any language right?”

((Now that I’ve gotten my actual starters out, I got a cap of two more specifically for Rekindling p2 Looking to do some threads with glass working especially, or if you wanna dance with the flirty idiot lemme know!

#eido rp ad #eido event ad #event: rekindling p2

The last thing Lupin expected to be a piece of familiarity in this cold, strange place was the familiar sound and appearance of dress shoes. Used to recognizing people by sound he had heard the soled first and wheeled around to wave, thinking (there he is, here to watch my back, he’s late and I’ll let him have it for that--) that it was someone else. A stranger wears those shoes, but they are just familiar enough that he thinks he should take a shot at communication, not to mention the fact he has to commit now that he’s waved down a stranger. On a whim, he greets in few languages one after the other, hoping if he casts more lines he’ll get a bite. English. French. Italian, since that was what he recognized in the cut of cloth and leather even if the fabric was... kinda eccentric. And a big grin he had been reserving for greeting a friend.

He didn’t mind sharing that. @stlckyflngers

#wildcard starters #stlckyflngers

saintofknaves

Finding a friendly face becomes a quick priority, but he hadn’t expected it to go so well so fast. Extroverted body language and a vocal pitch he quickly, easily commits to memory for a larger alibi…. perfect.

He slides up next to the shorter man, hands in his pockets to keep warm (to keep that jaunty attitude). And then:

“Heya! Whatcha doin?” It’s his usual voice. English, very fake sounding American accent. Friendly! Right?

@facadist

facadist-blog

Finn’s always been used to the biting winter cold, so it’s not uncommon for him to take up a seat with a nice hot lunch near the center of the village. It serves a purpose for people-watching, and also filling his usually-empty stomach. It’s a win-win, and usually even more of a win when someone approaches him.

But this time it’s sudden and unexpected, just as he’s taken a too-big-to-chew bite out of his sandwich.

“Eadimg,” he says, his cheeks puffed full of food like some weird hamster. He doesn’t even swallow before he keeps talking. “Y need smmf?”

saintofknaves

“Actually yeah, I just wound up around here and I’m trying to get my bearings.”

“I just got here and I am real, REAL lost as to what to do about it. I haven’t been to a place like this for years.” He’s hoping by playing the dumb friendly fun guy he’ll win more hearts, and maybe more information the less suspicious and more open he seems.

Finding a friendly face becomes a quick priority, but he hadn't expected it to go so well so fast. Extroverted body language and a vocal pitch he quickly, easily commits to memory for a larger alibi.... perfect.

He slides up next to the shorter man, hands in his pockets to keep warm (to keep that jaunty attitude). And then:

"Heya! Whatcha doin?" It's his usual voice. English, very fake sounding American accent. Friendly! Right?

@facadist

#wildcard starters #facadist

Another day, another building decades of know how about the world from scratch. This is hardly a problem for Lupin.

People's habits give a small idea of who is who is what and how, and even a gait might let him know who is angry, who is haughty, who is friendly and who he needs to relieve of special possessions (though he doubts he'll note anything juicy this early on).

What he does note is cigar smoke and that wakes up a heavy pang for nicotine in his throat. It'd be a good idea to make friends. He slides down the roof to try to land in front of the guy but misjudges the depth of the snow and winds up face down in a snowbank with his legs in the air like an awkward spring flower.

@cudgel

#wildcard - starters #cudgel #lmk if i should change anything #crimes and crimes and crimes and crimes

And with that it's time for a starter call. Capping at 3 except for roomies in bunkhouse 3

WHO WANTS SOME TROUBLE

#eido rp ad

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