Had a good pose ref that I wanted to draw some gay bitches in, thought Mabel and Anna would be perfect. They were!
(@mabelpod-described, @mabelpodcast)
IMAGE ID: A copic marker illustration of Anna Limón and Mabel Martin standing together naked. They are both mixed indigenous Mexican women. Anna, whose left arm is made of black bone, is slightly taller and has thicker, darker, and straighter hair. She has normal eyes. Mabel is slightly shorter and has curlier, redder hair. Her skin is slightly warmer. The whites of her eyes are green and she has pointy elf ears. They stand in front of a tree covered in lichen. Mabel has her left arm wrapped around Anna's shoulders and her right arm behind her head. Anna has her left arm, the one made of bone, reaching up to hold Mabel's left hand, and her right arm wrapped around Mabel's waist. END ID.
mabelpod enjoyers before i go to bed would y’all like me to write a little drabble about anna cleaning mabel’s ears to help get the writing juices back
The Heart of Ether/Mabel crossover. Rose and Mabel meet again and catch up.
on AO3
This revel was proving to be quite an annoyance.
Don’t get her wrong; Rosemary Quinn knew well enough the delights of revels, the bountiful pleasures they could provide that nothing above the ground could hope to match. But revels always ended up being an end unto themselves, and when you had another end to focus on, another goal that needed achieving, getting stuck in the middle of a revel was merely a hindrance to that goal, any enjoyment to be offered there very much beside the point.
Rose didn’t even know what the event that had triggered this particular revel was, but whatever the cause, it made finding her path, seeking out those she hoped to see more than anything, all the more difficult as she stumbled through the fanciful crowds around her.
After some time (minutes, hours, days--it was impossible to know down here), Rose finally spotted a familiar face, and while it wasn’t the one she really longed to see, she made a beeline for its owner just the same. Allies were valuable down here, as were true friends, and Rose was pretty sure that the woman she was approaching counted as at least one of the two.
“Mabel?”
Mabel’s head turned towards Rose upon her speaking, and Rose could see that Mabel looked in better spirits than the last time they had met. Her outfit was nicer, too, covered in the finest fabrics that the Underhill had to offer. Rose knew too well, though, that a gilded cage was still just a cage.
“Rose?”
“I have to admit, I had hoped not to see you here. Not because I don’t want to see you, of course, it’s always a pleasure! I just... wish you had gotten your chance to leave.”
“I did get that chance.” Before Rose could ask for clarification, Mabel pressed on. “I left, though I had not asked to return to the world above, had not expected such a rescue after all these years. But then I found...” Mabel’s eyes wandered away from Rose to another reveler nearby, an equally finely-dressed woman. “...a reason to return to my former prison. If I remain trapped now, it is a trapping of my own choosing, and that is what matters most of all.”
Rose nodded. “And what reason is that?”
“Have you not heard?”
“Heard what?”
“...do you not even know what it is that we’re celebrating here?” Mabel let out a laugh, and though there was a sharpness to it--as Rose knew was common enough for Mabel, even in levity--it did not sound bitter or solemn in the slightest.
“I can’t say that I do, no.”
“Hell is under new management.” Mabel’s smile was wide, toothy; it put Rose in mind of a wild animal baring its teeth upon conquering a foe. “The Underhill has a new King, and I am her consort.”
“Who-”
Before Rose could even finish her question, Mabel grabbed the hand of the reveler that had caught her eye before, brought the stranger to her side. Now that Rose was looking more closely, she could see the crown of dark feathers upon the stranger’s head, the bold hues of gold and crimson and black that marked her as no mere passerby.
“Rosemary Quinn, I introduce you to the ruler of this place, King Anna Limon. Anna, I introduce you to my old friend Rose.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Anna said, extending a hand in Rose’s direction.
“The pleasure is all mine, Your Majesty.” Rose did her best attempt at a curtsey, which wasn’t stellar, before returning the handshake, careful to keep her grip firm but not overpowering. Anna’s hand was thin and sharp, but only after they broke their grip on one another did Rose spot the reason why--Anna’s hand had no skin, no muscle, none of the sinews that should be holding it together, only bare bone.
“No need for formalities. Please, just call me Anna.”
“If you say so, Anna.”
“I do. I’ve had quite enough of formalities for tonight, I assure you.”
Rose offered up a tentative grin and took in the image of the Underhill’s new King. Anna Limon had thick curly hair, almost as dark as the feathers that lay atop it, deep brown eyes... and most importantly, apart from the hand made of bone, she looked to be utterly human.
(Rose knew that appearances could be deceiving, of course, but in her experience, revels weren’t generally the sort of event where the participants would try to appear more human than they actually were.)
Anna and Mabel grabbed one another’s hands, and the smiles on their faces were wide and true.
“So how did you two meet? What story is there behind all of this--your union, your coronation...?”
Anna and Mabel locked eyes, both looking as thought they were trying to stifle a laugh.
