#gravexheart

[lovelorngus]

For: Prospero Perry @gravexheart or Hughie @dirtyxpawx Location: Open clearing around camp. He was aware that, technically, she probably didn't feel any worse for ware. The ability to form from a wand, repair any damage taken, probably survive even after death, all of that seemed incredibly useful given the nature of the world they lived in. Simulation or not, however, that didn't stop him feeling the need to make it up to her that absolutely everything she had wanted to dine upon was a mechanical monstrosity or just plain old fakes. He'd made the request of those far more talented with hunting than him to at least grab something fit for a... snake of her rather huge proportions. And they had delivered. Some type of bird that he did not recognize and probably didn't want to push for too many details on, but it was definitely filling her belly, and left her content enough for Gustave to lean himself against and just... Talk. "I think we did alright out there. You and me." It was easier to ignore that voice in the back of his skull when he could only hear his voice. And the vague sound of digesting fowl. A hand settled on iridescent scales. "I hope we did. Don't want to feel like this much longer."

The sound of snapping brought attention to company, head lifting a little but not moving too far, just offering a simple raised voice.

"Don't worry, she's harmless when she's eaten."

[scalesworn]

@gravexheart location: lake of lost souls notes: hope this works <3

the  lake  was  still.

cian  stood  near  the  water’s  edge,  boots  damp  from  the  dew-laced  grass,  arms  folded  loosely  against  his  chest.  mist  curled  off  the  surface  like  it  was  exhaling.  even  the  usual  camp  sounds—distant  clatter  from  the  kitchens,  the  rising  hum  of  morning  drills—felt  hushed  here,  like  they  stopped  short  at  the  treeline.  it  suited  him  fine.  he  wasn’t  hiding,  exactly,  but  peace  like  this  didn’t  last  long,  and  he'd  learned  to  take  it  where  he  could.

he  let  out  a  slow  breath,  watching  it  cloud  the  air  in  front  of  him.  the  lake  didn’t  scare  him  the  way  it  seemed  to  scare  others.  not  anymore.  maybe  it  should  have.  but  there  was  something  honest  in  it—dark  and  deep  and  still  breathing.  like  grief,  or  memory.  it  reminded  him  of  home  in  the  strangest  way.  of  nights  in  the  churchyard.  of  listening  for  ghosts.

he  crouched  down  after  a  moment,  fingers  brushing  the  cold  water,  and  felt  the  weight  of  things  slip  through  him.  his  heartbeat  steadied.  his  jaw  unclenched.  the  silence  here  wasn’t  empty.  it  was  full.  and  it  made  the  rest  of  the  day  feel…  manageable.

then,  a  sound.  soft  footfalls  over  stone  or  grass.  someone  else  was  here.

he  straightened,  blinking  through  the  mist—and  there,  across  the  clearing,  was  a  familiar  shape.  tall.  shadowed.  someone  he’d  fought  beside.  someone  whose  power  had  stirred  something  quiet  and  wordless  in  his  chest.

“morning,”  cian  said,  voice  low  but  not  unfriendly,  as  perry  came  into  view.

his  mouth  tugged  into  the  edge  of  a  grin.  “bit  early  for  the  reaping,  isn’t  it?”