Hiatus notice
I seem to have temporarily (I hope) lost my Sarah-muse, so I'm putting this blog on an indefinite hiatus.
In the meantime, I can be found at Madeleine, Ellie, or Andrew.

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Andulka
Claire Keane

★
Not today Justin
d e v o n

JVL
Today's Document
tumblr dot com

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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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todays bird
Game of Thrones Daily
Jules of Nature

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$LAYYYTER
wallacepolsom

ellievsbear
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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@shortforadragonslayer
Hiatus notice
I seem to have temporarily (I hope) lost my Sarah-muse, so I'm putting this blog on an indefinite hiatus.
In the meantime, I can be found at Madeleine, Ellie, or Andrew.
nice characters are good and important and strong
nice characters are not in any way inherently less interesting or complex or cool or badass than asshole characters
nice characters who go through hell and still remain good and kind and compassionate are so so strong
nice characters are not weak or boring or less badass, nice characters are awesome.
road trip au
What Chess Piece Would My Muse Be and Why?
♔: King
♕: Queen
♗: Bishop
♘: Knight
♖: Rook
♙: Pawn
Her eyes flicked open, but not until the haruspex had finished her prayer to Athena. “In order: yes — in some versions of the tale, Heracles dipped his blade in the blood to prevent regeneration, in lieu of flame; yes, an unattended head will grow two; yes, I’ve got the torch.” And one more for Artemis. There was more that she could tell Sarah, but nothing too necessary. She didn’t want to overload her ally of circumstance with too much to dwell on. “Agreed.”
Familiar was a bit of a stretch. In a scholarly sense, sure, Velia knew just how to handle a hydra. In reality, though, she was but a glorified repossession agent / grim reaper with a few interesting tricks. She offered up one last prayer to Hades. Leaving her crouch, she slung her walking-stick’s leather strap across her side, cinching her briefcase closed. That was leaned near a conspicuous tree, and nodding, she took a few steps back, opening her hand in a palm. A raven alighted upon it, the real tracker of the hydra.
"The eyes, but don’t risk your safety, and don’t swallow it." It cawed, flew off, and Velia turned back to Sarah, adjusting the lighter and WD-40. “You’ve the blade, love. On your ready.”
"Huh. There's something goofy about that, a beast whose own blood's its own enemy." She dismissed the thought; monsters didn't have to make sense. Best just to be glad slicing bits off would work.
She glanced at the bird and added it to her mental tally of moving objects to be aware of, though the heads topped the list. "Right, here we go then," and she darted round the tree, swinging her sword low to avoid catching the beast's attention as she moved, then bringing it up in an arc that caught the nearest of the two smaller heads a little ways behind the jaw. It was definitely newer than the others, she thought briefly. It should have taken more than one slice to get through that neck and spine.
Well and good, then; get the two easiest heads out of the way quickly, won't have to worry about getting chomped from behind later. The second of the small heads turned abruptly and swung itself right into her next slice. Like a nest of lindworms, but bigger, and not quite as independent, but old enough to be cleverer, I'd bet-- She twisted out of the way of the blood still pumping from the flailing neck. And that was the last of her element of surprise; now it was a game of reflexes. She brought her other hand up to the hilt and shifted mental gears to a two-handed grip.
The usually composed look Celia wore was suddenly transformed to surprise when she heard the ‘shhh.’ People didn’t usually tell Celia to hush, and she found herself stunned into silence by the mere thought of it. But soon enough, there was a girl stepping forward. Celia was about to say something about hushing her, but as the girl spoke, she fell silent again for a few more moments. “It’s nighttime. Not the best time for children to be playing,” the magician remarked with a slight incline of her head. “And…what did you mean it?” Celia asked, looking around with a new sense of caution. “What were you looking for?”
"Oh, good." As difficult as it was to work at in the dark, it at least meant that there were fewer people in harm's way, and those who were out and about in the night were more likely to be capable of taking care of themselves. "A dragon," she answered. "A nesting mother, or rather she was, until the last of the fledglings left the nest. Now she's got the chance she's liable to take out all the frustration of staying in one place on whoever she happens to run into. It would usually be large game, but for some reason she headed into the city instead." She blinked through the gloom at the woman. "I'm Sarah," she said, offering a hand to shake, "and this," gesturing to the sword at her side, "is Peritus. I'm afraid he's not inclined to be considerate enough to talk to people just now."
shortforadragonslayer has entered the illusionist’s tent.
The night was cool, a slight breeze blowing over the scattered buildings as Celia walked along by moonlight. She knew the Circus would be in town soon, but probably not for another day or so — or rather night. Regardless, tonight she was simply enjoying being alone, her gaze trailing up to the moon hanging bright in the sky. Unfortunately there weren’t too many stars to be seen, the curse of being in the city. But no matter, Celia wouldn’t be in town for more than a week, in which case, she’d see the stars again soon enough. As she walked along, she discovered a small park and immediately disappeared into it. It wasn’t much, but there were a few trees, grass, a playground near the back. Celia took up residence at the base of one of the larger trees, leaning back as she pulled out her deck of cards. But she became aware of a presence soon after, and peered into the dimness of the park. “If you’re trying to hide, it won’t do you much good.”
It had been several minutes since she lost sight of her quarry, but she kept searching in the near-darkness for a glimpse of scales or a flick of a tail. Hearing the voice from the tree, she put a finger to her lips. "Shhh." She held that stance for several minutes, as still as she could be, ears straining for a sound--any sound--something to indicate the creature was nearby. But there was nothing to hear, except for the usual sounds of the city. Finally she let out her breath in a resigned sigh. "Hello. I'm not hiding from you, it's hiding from me. Or maybe it's just gone." In a worried tone, she added, "D'you know--there aren't any small children nearby, are there?"
don’t
UNDERESTIMATE
me.
Send "Tap" for my character's reaction to yours tapping on their bedroom window late at night.
Velia wouldn’t have even needed the smell. Even the tracks of the Lernaean — well, to be fair, this would be the Mississippi Hydra, if she was going by geography, not lineage — Hydra were virulent, blighting the earth where it tread. All that said, however, it’s not often that someone calls her out with regard to her weird smelling thing, and it catches the haruspex off guard. She nodded, sharply. “Alright, keep in mind: poisonous blood, noxious breath. Dipping that sword in the blood might do you some good, but no need for overconfidence.”
She produced a pair of surgeon’s masks from her briefcase, offering one to Sarah Wetherell, of Nobody in Particular, and donning the other herself. “There may be a crab lurking around.” Velia paused. “That sounds dumb, but Grecian beasts tend to be cyclical. If the hydra is here, so too will be Cancer.” Shit, how did the tale end? Heracles took off the last head with a golden blade enchanted by Athena. Well, Athena wasn’t coming, so WD-40 would have to do.
"If you’ve prayers to say, offer them now."
Sarah returned the nod with one of her own and tugged her pushed-up sleeves down to cover her arms, judging that with that much poison involved in this fight, bare skin probably wasn't the best idea. "Would it be affected by its own poison? 'Cause otherwise--it's just that magic and that sort of thing doesn't usually stick to Peritus for very long."
Accepting the mask and tugging it over her head, she looked over at Velia in surprise. "A crab? --Oh. Neat. Well, not neat... I haven't run into many creatures from that part of the world, is all. This is the one where you have to cauterize the necks to keep more heads from growing, right?"
"--'Andrew, George, and Maggie Antioch' seems to fit." She looked over the hydra, more analytically this time. The two heads on the near left seemed to be a hair slimmer and a shade paler than the rest of them. Did that mean they were newer? In any case, they looked as though they would be the easiest to cut off quickly. "You've got the torch? Starting on the left, whenever you're ready." It was still a large murderous reptile, so it was't that far out of her area, but she figured she'd follow the other's lead since Velia seemed to be familiar with this particular variety of large murderous reptile.
Happy Munday! For every ✫ in my inbox, muse will tell one fact about the mun.
{Staying up the night before Monday, particularly this Monday, may not have been the cleverest thing I’ve ever done. Good night, my dears.}
¿
Send me an ¿ and I’ll tell you one fear of my muses.
Something happening to Madeleine, probably.
Not dragons or monsters. Not something she can slay.
Not Calder. (Lie.) Because that’s in the past. Heart temporarily broken, courage temporarily lost, and both those things mended with time and one good punch.
Send me an ¿ and I'll tell you one fear of my muses.
"The second Labour which he undertook was the slaying of the Lernaian Hydra, springing from whose single body were fashioned a hundred necks, each bearing the head of a serpent. And when one head was cut off, the place where it was severed put forth two others; for this reason it was considered to be invincible, and with good reason, since the part of it which was subdued sent forth a two-fold assistance in its place." --Diodorus Siculus, Library of History 4. 11. 5 (trans. Oldfather) (Greek historian C1st B.C.)
"In your defense, they smell the same." Either she’s been very, very quiet, or Velia Durand has finally been whispered the secrets of shadowmancy (It’s the former. Last time she tried, she ended up going transparent in bright sun for a month). After flicking up to gaze at the beast (it seemed to be fighting among itself for some poor cow carcass), she let go of a long-held breath, a murmured prayer to Athena released with it.
She’s put aside her walking-stick-turned-spear, and is rummaging around her briefcase. Eventually, she unearths her quarry - a Bic lighter and a can of aerosol spray. Hardly the torches of Ioloas, but it would do. A raking once-over at the girl. Mortal, young, and more surprisingly, rather mundane. That brought her some ten steps higher in the haruspex’s opinion.
"Velia Durand, του Άδη. I think we share common cause. How’re you with that blade?”
She blinks in surprise at the idea. "Smell? That would be useful. I was following the tail-marks and small drippy pieces of cow, though." She's very, very glad it turned out to be an animal that the creature had taken; the amount of blood had concerned her, leaving an obvious trail for almost a mile from where she'd picked it up near a local farm. She's not at all surprised that somebody else noticed it, though she wouldn't have expected someone who was so clearly no local or farmer.
Her eyes light up at the sight of the lighter and can, and she turns a delighted smile to the woman, continuing to watch the enormous reptile out of the corner of her eye. "Sarah Wetherell, of nobody in particular, except perhaps Peritus," she replies, indicating the named sword, "and it looks like it."
Then, with a widening grin, "--Fast."
"Hello!" She’s bouncing along the side of the road, having once again managed to let the beamer get taken out of commission. "Do you know where I could find a place that sells tires? I only carry two spares and there’s three of them shredded. There was a bit of a thing with a cactus cat and a ham sandwich. You know, I don’t think cats like me very much," she says sadly. "Not that cactus cat, not the ball-tailed cat, not the tailypo. They always go for the car.”
Then she brightens. “Or an ice-cream shop. That would also be good. To find, I mean.”
Cough basalisk cough
fifteen fucking feet AND 2,502 POUNDS ARE YOU SHITTING ME
AND IT WAS 15 METRES NOT FEET THAT’S ALMOST 50 FEET LONG