#gentlegiantingvar

[picorihero]

@intothewildsea, @gentlegiantingvar, @lylxt---you’re all under arrest for being too cute

I just wanted to draw scenes from our threads because it’s so wholesome ;u;

[cosmicuncanny]

@gentlegiantingvar​

I’m going to need a horse, Jason had said, quite firmly.  If that thing starts chasing me and all I’ve got’s my own two feet, I’m dead.  The village council had only been slightly moved; a fair argument, but they’ve already agreed to reward him handsomely, a horse is impossible.  You asked me to do you all a favor, and a suicide mission is not a favor, Jason had said, bristling.  You all have built your lives here.  I’m just a visitor, I have no roots here and I won’t die for this place.  If that’s your expectation, send somebody who actually has a stake.  They told him to stop being ridiculous.  He told them he was leaving.  They’d given him a horse, with strict instructions about returning it and a hefty cut to his reward.

Scamming people outright isn’t usually Jason’s style, but for this particular nest of vipers he felt moved to make an exception.  Oh, he’ll send the horse back; people can get so hung up about horse thieves, he doesn’t need that kind of drama in his life.  But it can take him far away from his lovely neighbors in the meantime.  He’s already planned it out -- he’ll send a note with whoever he hires to return the animal, and the note will only say “keep the reward.”

They really should have seen it coming.  It was right there in his argument, that he has no stake in this place.  Make contact with an eldritch child-eating being, on the off chance it will grow some food for a species that hates it?  How is that a viable strategy!  It’s hard not to wonder if the villagers’ main goal wasn’t maybe to scratch Jason’s name off the list of mouths to feed.  Well!  No use worrying now.  If that really was the case, it seems both parties understand each other perfectly.

A third party in this game, which Jason has failed to consider, is the horse itself.  The villagers weren’t prepared to send him off with a creature of great value, a creature certain to give its rider an easy time of things.  Paired with Jason’s inexperience with riding, it’s not necessarily a recipe for a good time.

Looking back, it’s hard to say what exactly spooked the horse.  A dangling vine that looked like a snake?  The sudden motion of a bird taking off?  A horror of its own horsey construction?  Whatever it was, Jason had been making great time towards a new life and better company, until suddenly he wasn’t, until suddenly the sky was in the wrong place and his foot was caught in a stirrup and an enormous animal with hooves was trotting and dancing to shake him loose.

The horse continues on its way when Jason’s foot comes free.  Jason just lies there on the path, breathing, rallying, managing pain.  He has no illusions about being in a position to get up and walk away.  There’s no way he can make it back to the village, or to any other place he knows about.  The villagers won’t expect him back for days.  Where does that leave him?  He doesn’t know.  He doesn’t know at all.  For the space of right now, he can’t convince himself to do anything other than simply keep lying here.  Maybe he hit his head worse than he thought.  He doesn’t stay conscious for long.

[rashiidakazan]

@gentlegiantingvar

         She’d never met a giant so... human looking. Most ‘giants’ that villagers prattled on about were usually some type of large ogroid or rarely a hybrid of some kind. This creature... this man, was new to her. He was lucky that he spotted her and addressed her, however, before she had lept up to slice his ACL. She had been hired to take care of him, after all.

           She remembered stories in Nilfgaard she had heard, the legend of the Colossi, the giant people with metallic skin and more intelligent and gifted in magic than the elves, but were lost and thrown out of existence during the Collision of the Spheres. Sure, his skin was pale, but not shiny or metallic in any way... perhaps the legends had been true, but not accurate.

            She backed away and sheathed her sword (not like it would have done any good against him now that he had spotted her) and craned her neck to meet eyes with him. He was probably expecting her to say something.

            “....How is weather?” She wondered if he got that a lot.

[ivakir]

@gentlegiantingvar continued from here [x]

It was not as though Ingvar was not drinking- apple cider made in a certain way, he found out several visits ago, was indeed alcoholic- but he was by no means drunk. Nothing like Ivakir, slurring and reeking of the stuff as she spoke and touched him and tried to look him in the eyes. Ingvar was not one who looked people in the face often, so Ivakir could not look him in the eyes when she tried to.

Maybe he was overly-serious. It wasn’t that he wasn’t having fun, or that he was upset. He was simply thinking; he was confused, puzzled, suddenly, as things about Ivakir suddenly seemed to line up. He had his own theories about it, why she acted like this, and drunk herself silly, but he kept them to himself, for he did not want to be rude, nor assume, nor make Ivakir upset with him.

He frowned. “I have not moved, Ivakir. I am listening,” he said, crossing his arms. “And what you were just saying is an example of what I ask about. You… are always saying such strange things, like that people are in awe of you, or… er… you will… eat my beard. But then you are acting differently sometimes. Why?”

"But they are really in ... awe of me, and I really want to eat your bea-ard! Ah, what do you understand? Again you with your stupid questions!"

Ivakir pushed Ingvar lightly, as if he was drunk on her shoulder, and frowned at her glass, propping her head in her hands. Oh, his questions, how she hated them! And why did he have to spoil her mood? Ivakir this, Ivakir that, Ivakir why are you behaving this way, Ivakir why are you like that, and go on - goddess, what kind of person will ask such questions?! Probably the one who lived in the mountains for a long time, like a damn hermit, without seeing people, and... ah, yes.

"And you..! You always walk like this, hanging your beard!" the witch decided not to remain in debt and, slightly nudging Ingvar in the shoulder, attracted his attention again. "And you never... never... never smile! How can I trust you if you never smile?"

It impressed her so much that she even sobered up for a moment, and then got drunk again. In the evening, it was the only sober thought, and she discovered it by accident, only when she only had beer in her head instead of brains. No wonder they say that brilliant thoughts come only when you're drunk. But the fact remained the fact - Ingvar never smiled. Or she just has never seen him smiling. Sober she never noticed it, or just didn't want to pay attention, but it only came to her right now. When he spoke or did something, he always looked either too depressed or too serious. Even when the situation was never sweet and never serious, the corners of his lips always remained lowered.

"You... you never smile!" Ivakir, who poked her finger at Ingvar, as if he had committed some crime, already attracted the attention of other visitors with her loud voice, but then they turned away. "Why is it so? Aren’t you having fun with me? What harm do I do to you that you never smile at me?" she fell silent for a while, and then her face changed into an ugly one, as if she was about to cry. "Am I that evil? Is this a reason?"

[spellsandpixiedust]

“Oh, look: the Incorruptible One comes out to play. Bother not with succumbing to your flight instinct. It won’t lead to anything and I am under the impression we need to talk. Would you have the kindness to join me on a stroll; through the park perhaps?”, Berith managed to sound exactly the way he dressed: sophisticated, trustworthy, British - and as such he was overflowing with politeness. A Victorian gentleman in modern day London, not any more out of place than a fallen angel in the mortal realm or a giant by the size of a mere human. A tall human, granted, but that was the charm, wasn’t it?

@gentlegiantingvar

[adventuresxme-a]

“ Can I get a look at the forest from the top of your hat, friend? ”

@gentlegiantingvar ❤︎‘d

[notoriousmissridinghood-blog]

@gentlegiantingvar

It was said that at the top of a particularly big cliff bloomed the most beautiful flower. Many didn’t dare to go up, understanding the risks involved in retrieving such a delicate thing.

Little Red Riding Hood was all about taking risks.

The trek up the cliff was long, and it hurt her arms and legs, but up she climbed anyway. To keep herself entertained, she sung some of her favorite songs, from cutesy ones like “The Inseey-Weensy Spider” to, as we will hear now, more morbid tunes like “There Was an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly":

“There was an old lady who swallowed a cow, “I don’t know how she swallowed a cow!

“She swallowed the cow to catch the goat, “She swallowed the goat to catch the dog, “She swallowed the dog to catch the cat, “She swallowed the cat to catch the bird, “She swallowed the bird to catch the spider, “That wriggled and jiggled and ticked inside her - ”

Midway through the song, Red lost her footing - down she fell, with a loud cry! Who could save her?

[awiishingstar]

@gentlegiantingvar:

Had he not worried it would further frighten what he believed was a human, the giant would have knelt and put out a hand to catch him as he fell. Instead, he remained standing.

“… What is you being sorry for?” Ingvar whispered in return, a frown of concern fresh upon his face. He looked towards the outside of the cave as the man did, though he could see nothing that could have drawn either of their eyes. The poor human seemed so frightened that the giant only felt a little nervous, as opposed to his usual terror which mirrored the little one’s. “Whatever it is, it alright.”

There was more than enough room for the both of them here, and it was beginning to rain outside. Who was Ingvar to make him leave? This was not his cave; this was not his home, but a shelter for now; he owned no land, and even if he did, he wasn’t going to turn away a helpless human.

“I’m....I’m sorry for...i-intruding?” He stumbled over the words, old manners coming through in muscle memory, as his brain tried to force it’s way through the shock, so he could actually think. He couldn’t stay here, but it wasn’t as if he could leave either. If those men found him...well, it would be back to the dark, and after seeing the sky again, Cecil didn’t think he’d be able to make it through another round. 

Still not trusting his legs, the star scooted backwards, until his back was pressed against the wall of the cave, and his legs were folded close to his chest. It wasn’t the smartest position. In fact, it may well have been the opposite, but there was comfort in it. 

“I-I can leave...” He offered after a moment, fingers fidgeting with a long lock of silver hair, as he desperately tried to get his legs to stop locking up. Or at the very least, get his heart to stop beating so fast.