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@punnybonessnas

Arrow feels the portal open and pushes himself up from his lazy sprawl with a grunt. Blinking tiredly in the direction of the portal doesn't do much, considering the view is cut off by the smudged outline of trees. Perhaps he should have guessed his old apprentice would come immediately, rather than later in the day...

He draws out his pen- glaring at it for a moment to make sure it stayed a pen- and raises it to draw against the horizon. The landscape of his sphere response to his intent, sketch-lines sharpening and smudge-lines shifting to something distinct. Willing a path to form from Percy to his current location, Arrow dismisses his pen and yawns before shifting to grab his mug and thermos. Now he simply needed to wait.

All around Percy, what was once a plane the color of aged parchment smudged with indistinct shades of black and grey would sharpen as their artist redefined the world for his guest, the charcoal blurs outlined with strong strokes of inky lineart. He was in the midst of a meadow of bright white flowers gently swaying in an absent breeze, a forest of tall, shadowy pines all around.

This was not where Arrow's home was within his sphere.

A path would form beneath Percy last, meandering up and around the slope of the mountainside meadow and angling into the woods. A clear indicator of where to go to find his former mentor in the unfamiliar surroundings.

As the path is followed to its end, washes of color would slowly fade in and out like diluted watercolor- another unusual sight in Arrow's sphere. The reason becomes apparent as the harsh pine forest abruptly opens up onto a vibrant spring of colored ink, a prismatic willow tree leaning over the rainbow expanse from the far side, it's delicate branches trailing ethereal green leaves over the rainbow pool. The color from pool and tree bleeds into the very air, highlighting the white of the monochrome landscape with a beautiful blend of watercolor light.

"Here, Percy." Arrow quietly calls from where he sits on the nearby grassy slope down to the ink pool. He gestures to the teal-shaded grass beside him with his free hand, the other wrapped firmly around his mug.

Most that looked at him wouldn't realize anything had happened, beyond perhaps needing more sleep, judging by the bags beneath his sockets. The smudges of ink over his cheekbones were fairly common for ink's after all. The dull, muddy red of the eye-light that wasn't a permanent V-shape would be the most obvious tell of something wrong, slowly fading.

"My apologies for the impromptu hike. I should have gone back home after I messaged you. May have been able to at least start the kettle before you got here." Arrow says with a teasing smile. He sets the mug back down beside him, fully freeing his hands- just in case he needed to catch an armful of his former ward.

#;; Arrow

Who are you in this haunted house story?

Arrow is: The Father

You’ve made mistakes. You see them play out on an endless and nauseating loop whenever you close your eyes. If you could just interfere! Somehow pass on what knowledge you now possess to the person you were then. Of course, now you know, you know, YOU KNOW. But what’s done is done, leaving you behind, holding the shards of what you broke in your bleeding and calloused hands. They look at you differently now, so you smile bigger and hope it reaches your eyes. It’s okay though, because you’re going to make it better, you have to. And god knows you can’t be wrong again, you simply won’t allow it, can’t even entertain the idea. When doubt creeps in, you’ll stamp it down. When things begin to go wrong, you’ll turn a blind eye. There isn’t room inside of you to hold any more wrong.

Noctis is: The Dark Entity

You’re not from here. You don’t need what they need. They’re fear is so…. trivial. They are small, so very small compared to you. They eat and walk and cry and laugh. You just watch. It’s fascinating really, their little rituals and their meaningless concerns. Sometimes you envy their small joys, or even their modest pain. They don’t know what it is to wait in the dark, unfeeling, as time passes over you as eternal as the sea. But my, how you are glad to have guests again. You see, over your many years, you've become aware of a secret: Fear tastes sweet.

Corey is: The Youngest

They talk down to you, as though you couldn’t possibly understand. They speak down to you in a language consisting only of simple, happy concepts, unaware that you hear their whispered conversations in the dark. Funnily enough, they don’t know how much they miss, that the many voices that call to you from elsewhere are standing right in front of them. They don’t see, but you do. You will make these overlooked souls into friends and they will soak up the loneliness that has seeped into your world. You miss when it was easy to spend time with those you love, when it was a given, as sure as the sun rising in the morning. But still, they think you don’t understand. How can they think that when you love them so? And after all, love is just understanding.

#;; about muses #;; arrow #;; noctis #;; corey #//strangely accurate for my outcodes

“Animal inside” noctis, arrow and Ro-Ro cuz for some reason that's what my brain picked out first XD

I'll do the others... probably, but for now, an Arrow-Hare. Oddly, he consistently appears to be covered in... charcoal? How odd.

#;; Arrow #;; mun art #animal inside ;; meme

“Disgusting...”

#{ - dashboard commentary - }#;; arrow

|| CONTINUED FROM HERE ||

When night had fallen, Knuckles awoke from a restful sleep and placed bare feet on the cold floor of his home. Around him everything was hushed, there wasn’t a creak even as he stood, and outside the air had chilled and stars twinkled against midnight black.

It would have been a routine night, quiet and still like the island had been for most of his life, but there was one difference: he wasn’t alone. In the very same hut one of his most cherished friends was resting, recovering from ordeals no one his age should have gone through. Elsewhere, The Hero of Mobius was out exploring, trying forget or piecing together his next action, Knuckles did not know but he assumed.

There was hope in his heart as he heard the fox in the next room shift, movement had been unimaginable for the kid until he had performing a healing ritual with The Master Emerald.

Tails was safe. Knuckles was home. For now, nothing else mattered.

#;; character update #;; arrow #;; miles