Yet another Sunday gone by with not a single word written in Neon 🥺 I will finish this story. By the grace of the gods lmao!
Meanwhile, since I,haven't updated on this blog in two weeks, have another random snippet of Alastor and his mother from The Devil's Forked Path:
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In the early hours right before sunrise Alastor's mother woke him and ushered him outdoors. There was the tire swing. There was the mound nearby where Alastor's father had buried the bird, that clearing of earth free from grass where Alastor had spent countless hours scuffing his feet; grass was growing back.
"Mama," he said. "What are we doing?"
That early morning sweetness clung to everything; that humidity that didn't suffocate yet, that aura of blue previous to dawn that whispered with bugs in trees and the scuffing of nearby wildlife.
They knelt in the dirt near that tire swing and she beckoned him close. Near to her again, he was able to see how her eyes gleamed with unfallen tears as she reached to a pack at her side and took out some items.
"A lesson for you this morning," she whispered. "A lesson about Gede. About Mother Mary, and Gedeon in tandem, because they watch over us both at once. Take this," she handed Alastor a stick.
"Draw in the dirt. A crossroads."
Still sleepy, Alastor sat with his bare feet digging into the earth beneath him and did as she asked. When the crossroads was complete, she placed a little white candle in the center and lit it reverently, giving Alastor a cigarillo to offer to the god, and placed her own offering there next to the candle of a small glass which contained rum.
Gede.
An invisible guardian, an enigma of chaotic energy who smiles with unhinged grace and protects with the same zeal. A figure, his mother once told him, who appears physically as a well dressed man in a suit and a top hat, carrying a scythe.
"Greet him with respect," his mother reminded him gently.
"Bonjou, Gede," he murmured.
"Bonjou," he mother echoed, laughing a little.
He cast her a look of nervousness and she said, "Oh Al, our Gedeon has a sense of humor. There are no wrong prayers with him. You should ask him for protection."
If Alastor shut his eyes he could nearly vividly imagine it, this spirit with a boisterous laugh and and a wildness who would scoop you in long arms or cut you down with his scythe just as eagerly any way; that perhaps Gede's laughter fell onto the wind and cut like a weapon and made the candle flicker oh so slightly in the humid air while Alastor's mother was muttering her own prayer in her native language.
Alastor's prayer was silent. It was in his heart, in his mind; it filled his blood with a simmering of longing that he could not comprehend. He longed for that wildness for himself. He longed for that ease of laughter, and imagined that if the god would speak with him, it would be with a suave carefree grace, that Gede's heart and soul was like a drum beat of dance and song and language.
Perhaps Gedeon liked jazz music.
Alastor thought that might be so.
"Mwen Cheri. Listen to me. Listen to the songs in mass today. And if they get too much, listen for the protection of our Gedeon. Remember to hail Mary with respect today. Please? Honor your father today. Do as you're told. Endure it with grace. Because mother Mary watches just as Gede."
Don't stumble, Alastor, he thought, don't fall to your stuttering and forget the ritual of it.
But he'd much prefer, instead of keeping a straight back, feeling restrained in this church mass full of incense and guilt, to dig his toes into the earth and run his hands over the rough bark in the trees and forget the whisperings of Mary, the Saints, and Christ. He'd not enjoy that tang of sour wine which represented blood.
The body of Christ.
The laughter of Gede.
The protection of Mary, full of grace.
"I understand mama. Don't cry."
By the time he had gone back to bed, and morning sun had lit the tops of the trees outside with a magical orange light, his lesson about Gede had seemed like a strange dream.
So it's been a hot moment sense I've drawn nutcracker’s or Erica. So I figured why not draw Hanz and Gedeon (my mouse king but he doesn't look like this when Erica encounters him)
I drew this by hand for a envelope card, figured I'd post it here incase I never digitalis it and yes there will be a reason behind why Hanz and Erica have a very similar design besides her being his daughter. Anyways ENJOY
SPOILERS below if you haven't read Chapter 13 yet!
Quest Masters!
IT HAS ALL BEEN A LIE! 😱
May I re-introduce you all to the main OC of this story...who isn't Mr. Vance after all, but...
Gedeon the Grotesque!
Full Name: Gedeon Pepperbucket (but for "reasons" you better call him Gedeon the Grotesque)
Geh-de-on (pronounced like Gideon, but with an e instead of an i)
A mysterious cloaked thief with the magic gift who is after Ian and the S.S. Medallion, Gedeon will stop at nothing to get what he believes to be HIS talisman back in his scaly green gremlin claws, even if it means going undercover….
yoooo almost forgot about this!! i finished it today too lmao
the context is a bit long but first the characters;
(first pic) omega is the one on the left (he/him/they/them)
sadxd is the middle (any pronouns)
ray (me lmaoaoaoa) is on the right (any pronouns)
(second pic) left is gedeon (any pronouns)
right is birch (any pronouns)
uh basically
sadxd was a god (ray and gedeon are still gods) and she was killed by gedeon twice (we had a lives system but gods have 3 lives), birch was in on it (they suggested it) and soon ray found out and set up a trap for both of them, this is sadxd getting their revenge and shitting on them both lmao
Here’s @houses-of-lamentation ‘s OC Gedeon in the Mafia AU!
The family’s jailer for the lack of a better term. Most of his work is done in the basement and he and Azul are the family’s two information scouters. Most family members tend to avoid him while he’s doing work since they can’t really stomach what he does down there ( it doesn’t bother the higher-ups like Sorrel, Azul, and Set though). Alongside this job, he also accompanies Set to any meeting with other family leaders in the event that a deal might be made. Set refuses to shake on or sign anything without Gedeon’s approval first.
