#jawsonsblog

[vineapple]

May we ask for your voice? We found your cover of Zia's Song exceptionally phenomenal. Don't be afraid. We merely wanted to add your voice to a collection of songs we were planning on featuring, to replace the old. Rejection is acceptable, should you not feel willing.

lwjlkJSGKLJDGKLEJKLTEJKTL???????????????????

UH Y-YES SURE im honored you liked it so much!!!!!!!!!!

just let me know where to send it to!!

[gdffddasdfadf-blog]

For @Percy-Thesnitch

[Nordy stumbled away from the skyway, splattered with mud and still staring at the cut on the back of his hand. He felt awful, physically and emotionally; he had a headache, his hand was throbbing, and he was tasked with bringing his- his friend- back to the bog for the same treatment.

To be perfectly honest, all he really wanted to do was sleep and take a bath and perhaps eat something. To forget about the swamp with its strange fog and stranger creatures. But the place had threatened to hurt his friends if he didn't bring back Percy- and he couldn't quite convince himself that it wasn't able to do that.]

[Over the next few days, Nordy recovered, but was strangely distant from Percy. If he talked to him, it was only briefly before he'd scamper off to go visit the bird or go look over the edge of the Bastion at the land below. 

He couldn't work up the nerve to bring Percy to the bog. 

It was after a week or so that Nordy finally came up to Percy, tugging at the sleeve of his jacket as he looked at the ground; anywhere but at the Snitch's face. ]

"Can I talk to you? Privately?" 

[buildthatwall-builditstrong-blog]

Hungry for More (for jawsonsblog)

She didn't know why she was back; no, she knew what excuse she used.

'Oh, I'm making something for Kid and Zulf for Lemagin's day, I need to get some flowers and feathers from the Bog. I'm sure I'll be fine,' she thought as she passed by the familiar trees and plants, recounting her last time at the Bog.

Her shoulder still hurt from it, too; it had been a good few weeks now, and she still had nightmares every now and then, although not as often as she had when coming back for the first time.

And yet, why was she back here? Why did she willingly let herself come back when she was still afraid? She pushed herself through it, though; she'd dare not let something stop her from making this first holiday on the Bastion wonderful.

She was smart; she snuck out late at night so she wouldn't get scolded by Rucks; so Kid wouldn't see her leave for the Wild Unknown and Zulf wouldn't worry. She remembered to take a lantern, although she knew the fireflies would be light enough.

It started to rain; she forgot to account for the weather, and she sighed as she stuffed what flowers and feathers she had collected into her pocket.

Hopefully they wouldn't get too ruined in there; she'd hate to have to come back and search for more. Besides, the holidays were close, and she didn't have much time left.

She kept her wits about her; every sound made her jump, look around at everything that caught her eye, and wonder if the Bog was toying with her. No, just get what you need and leave, she told herself.

And yet, she somehow hoped she'd see those figures again; That Kid . . . he looked scared, too. She wondered just how cruel their Rucks was. She couldn't help but be curious, yet every time the thought crossed her mind, she was reminded of her shoulder by a surge of pain.

As her thoughts wandered, Zia stopped paying attention to the Bog; she stopped for a moment to look at what she had gathered so far: a couple feathers and just two flowers. Maybe they'd know where the prettiest flowers would be.

Or maybe not. Maybe they'd take that opportunity and break her, finish whatever business they wanted to those weeks ago; without the Storyteller or Siren to stop him, the Doppleganger could-- . . .

No, no, what was she thinking? Zia shook her head and trudged on, determined to get what she needed and leave.