I feel like Vik would use Col as a “shield”, because it’s so hard for Linden to be actually mad at him after seeing how far he’s come. Plus, I think Col’s initial “mischief” would just be so goofy and cute, like sticking a note to Lindens back or putting a plastic bug in his tea box.
-justbreakonme
Vik would, until he inevitably took it too far and got told off by Linden. "You can't just rope Col into it every time you do something genuinely stupid."
Col's brand of mischief would look like this, I think:
-convincing Linden that random things dont exist aka squirrels or turnips
-seeing how many things he can balance on Linden while he's asleep
-"it says gullible on the ceiling". comedy gold but can only be used once
-plastic bug would be a good milestone. he'd be pretty damn worried, at the back of his mind, that Linden could get legit angry at that one. he'd always worry about one day pushing things too far and having Linden turn on him, even if he knows its irrational
Col delicately nibbling at a cupcake, trying to not to make a mess, and Vik taking a picture. It’s a picture Linden treasures forever… Col, a little smear of frosting across his thumb, laughing at something Jaffa was doing (probably shaking off a party hat), his cheeks flushed. Vik and Linden make eye contact, and for once he’s grateful for Viks need to photograph everything.
-justbreakonme
@justbreakonme YOU NEED TO STOP BREAKING MY HEART LIKE THIS
here’s a lovely writing piece i commissioned from the amazing @justbreakonme . 💕
This story takes place in Nephfei -> info here
Toyhouse for my ocs: -> Adelaide 💛 -> Tatian 💜
Beautiful Things
The morning bells announcing sunrise woke him as they always did.
Adelaide shifted, yawning and blinking in the first fingers of light snaking into his room, then sat up, hurriedly stuffing his latest smuggled magazine under his pillow. He couldn’t believe he'd fallen asleep reading it, if Tatian had seen...
He didn’t want to think about what would happen.
With another yawn, he reluctantly pulled himself out of the warmth of his bed, kicking the ripped sheet he’d “rescued” from the trash farther under his bed and away from any prying eyes.
It wasn’t as white as it used to be, but he was sure with some bleach and time, he could get it close enough.
He paused in the doorway, taking a deep breath. Bracing himself, in a way, for the day to come.
He’d managed to stay out of too much trouble for the past few days, but he could never do it for long... Just one day at a time, right?
Before he could get too distracted, he started down the hall towards the kitchens. He collected Tatian’s breakfast tray, a smattering of greens, tea, toast, and poached eggs, and stuffed a spare piece of toast in his mouth as he went.
The tray glided along gracefully before him, while he scarfed the toast down in three bites on the way to his office.
The door swung open silently on well-oiled hinges, which only made the clatter of the tray being set down sound louder.
Tatian had one of his latest projects set before him, impossibly tiny gears and wheels arranged in neat rows, a manual open in the air beside him. He looked up over it with a glare, catching sight of Adelaide and shaking his head.
“It’s not enough to make a racket this early in the morning, you have to trail crumbs along after you?”
He looked down, noticing only now how his toast had indeed left a few crumbs leading back down the hallway.
Tatian sighed again, mumbling under his breath. “I don’t know what I could hope to expect...” “I- I’ll go sweep; I am sorry-”
“Go then. Stop making excuses. You’ve already made the most noise for the least reason, there’s no need for more.”
With a wave, he turned a page of his book and brought the mug of tea to his lips, not taking his eyes off his reading.
He turned tail and hurried off, only to turn back to make sure the door didn’t slam behind him.
Not even noon and you’ve already made a mess of things.
His own internal voice seemed to be sounding more and more like Tatian by the day. He didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.
Following the trail of crumbs back down the hall towards a broom and dustpan, he tried to shake the feeling.
Obedience was the only thing that made him worth anything. The only reason he was here at all. If he wasn’t obedient, what was he?
Just a spinxyn. Barely a step up from the dirt he was cleaning from the floor.
He let his mind go quiet, focused on his task, as he made his way back down the hall, past the office and into the main chapel.
He’d always loved the chapel in the morning.
The sun through the stained glass formed puddles of multicolored light on the stone floor, and he was more than happy to give it a clean canvas.
It was quiet this morning, the only sound coming from his talisman dragging behind him and his hooves, most of the residents of Catalis still sound asleep. Tatian called it a sin, but he imagined it must be nice to let the sun get up before they did. Let it warm the streets and the roof tops before leaving the cover of their blankets.
He paused in the light of the largest window, admiring how the colors saturated his hair and glittered off his hooves.
He only scolds you when you need it. After all, if he didn’t want you to be better, why would he give you such a gift?
Why must you constantly doubt his judgement? Or is that just the nature of a spinxyn?
Once he had tossed out the dirt, he returned the broom and dustpan to its place and started down towards the laundry. It was one of his favorite places after the chapel, surrounded by quietly humming machines and the smell of soap.
It was also a good place to find materials, scraps and other bits and pieces otherwise destined for the garbage. He felt a strange joy in them, almost solidarity. He too was nothing special, but he could be, if cut and clipped and pinned and tucked into the right shape.
He could be the best of the worst.
And that would have to be good enough.
He moved the wet sheets to the dryer, careful not to snag them on his needle point spikes or his horn, then the dirty ones to the washer. As he did, his attention was caught by a clattering noise.
Shutting the machine doors, he stooped down, examining the space between them.
A little golden button, likely from someone's coat based on its shape, had bounced back between the washer and dryer amongst the dust bunnies and lint.
Fishing it out, he leaned back and looked around, never sure when he would see watchful eyes appear behind him.
Assured that he was alone, he dusted it off. It seemed to glow even in the dim light, and he grinned.
Pretty...
He hurried up to his room, the newest addition to his collection carefully tucked out of sight as he slunk past Tatian’s door.
His mind was already racing with ideas, letting them unfold and reform in his mind's eye. He might even be able to get away with wearing something like it, after all, if it was off a church members coat it must be acceptable, right?
There are different rules for them. What is acceptable for others is different than what is acceptable for you...
There it was again, Tatian’s words in his own voice.
But it’s just a button, could it truly be that bad?
He supposed he would find out swiftly if it was, once he decided the best way to use it.
Once in his room, he placed it with the sheet, rolling it up in one of the corners so as not to lose it, and then went back to the laundry.
He wouldn’t dare hang around too long, not while there were still chores to be done, and not while he was already walking such a thin line.
He was in the middle of carrying the last basket of clean towels to one of the bathrooms when he heard steps in the hallway behind him. He tensed, turning slowly, hoping he hadn’t done yet another thing wrong.
Tatian was looking over a list but paused to catch his eye. “Adelaide.”
“Yes sir?”
“Are you nearly done?”
“Yes, sir, just these left.”
“Very well. Finish them, then you’ll accompany me into town. I expect you to set an example, do you think you can manage that?”
It wasn’t a question. It was a test. “Yes sir.”
Once around the corner and out of sight, he all but ran. This was his chance to prove that he could behave, to smooth over the mistakes of this morning and keep on his good side.
Even with his stern tone and glare sharp enough to cut diamonds, the idea filled him with a golden, glowing feeling. He was being brought to be an example.
He was still good enough to be the among the best of them.
After leaving the now empty basket in the laundry, he met Tatian quickly by the front doors of the church, his head bowed.
He looked him over, and Adelaide kept his eyes down, his heart pounding.
Please, please, I promise I’m good, I swear...
Finally, he seemed to deem him at least presentable, and off they went.
Adelaide followed a few steps behind as they made their way out into the bustling street. Despite keeping his eyes fixed on Tatian’s back hooves and his head down, he couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by everyone and everything around him.
Laughter popped here and there among the chatter, the occasional shout making him jump. He kept his head down, but his chest swelled, hoping Tatian noticed how quiet, how tame he was among the rest of the spinxyn.
Someone shoved past him, calling a quick “Sorry!” after them, and he heard Tatian hum in disapproval.
Look at me, see! See, I can be so much better, right? Right?
Is better good enough?
Even without looking at the buildings, he knew where they were going. Tatian didn’t often leave the church without a good reason, and there wasn’t often a better reason than finding a missing part or piece to his latest automaton.
After a few turns, he knew they were getting close.
Still facing the street, something flicked by out of the corner of his eye, and he looked up without thinking.
Oh...
Pretty...
She was walking by with a few others, giggling and gossiping like everyone else, but her tail...
Unlike his talisman, hers was still fluffy, and strands of it were braided with beads and pearls, making it sparkle with every movement.
He didn’t realize he was staring until he heard Tatian’s voice, far closer than comfortable. There was also his grip on the scruff of his neck, unmoving, but a warning nonetheless.
“Do you remember what the gods say about the temptation of vanity?” he asked, and he knew that tone far too well.
It was the one always used in public, calm and kind and deceivingly patient. “T-that vanity is- That spinxyn are not worthy even for the sin of vanity, sir?”
“Exactly... Now, I’d advise you turn your mind towards why I had brought you in the first place, yes? As an example, not as a tourist.”
“Yes sir, I am sorry sir.”
“Do not be sorry,” he snapped, letting go of his neck and starting to walk again, “Be better.” He turned back to the ground, trying not to let the tears starting to form escape.
“I don’t know why I expected anything more... They’re all the same.” Tatian muttered under his breath, and with that, he felt the last of that warm, glowy feeling dissipate.
Even if he had wanted to, he doubted that he could lift his eyes from the floor now. He let them slide over the doorway to the parts shop, barely seeing the nuts, bolts, and washers that littered the floor. Tatian seemed to find the items on his list rather quickly, and he was grateful.
“They’re all the same.” played over and over on the walk home, and dread had begun to settle as they grew closer and closer.
He hoped that he would be in a better mood, now that he had found the piece he had been looking for, or at least more focused on his automaton project than his spinxyn work in progress.
The automaton was certainly less difficult.
He slipped in the door, silent as the grave, in the hopes that he would simply be forgotten.
“Adelaide.”
His heart dropped.
“Yes sir?”
“There are several stacks of books that need to be reshelved. And when you are done, I trust you can find one of them to review. You seem to need more time to study, considering your behavior today.”
“Yes sir.”
“If you need any further correction,” his voice was as cold and hard as the stone floors they stood on, “I am sure I could find a method of teaching that could get the lesson through your thick skull...”
“I- I understand sir.”
“Clearly not well enough.”
And with that, he was off, leaving Adelaide to watch him go.
It could have been worse.
He started for the library, taking a deep breath as if that in itself could stop his heart hammering.
You could have been better.
The library was empty, and he was grateful.
You could always be better.
The books hovered and spun, slotting into empty spots on the old wooden cases, making little puffs of dust and air as they did so.
While he couldn’t unhear Tatian’s words, he also couldn’t unsee the strangers glittering braids, the way the sun played off her beaded hair.
He would never have the opportunity for something so beautiful, even if it was allowed. He looked back at his talisman, jealousy pinching at his heart.
He pulled down a few books with promising titles, letting them fall open before him to read the first few pages of each. He settled on one with a deep green cover and set the rest back on the shelves before sitting down to read.
Reading was a much better option than Tatian’s methods of teaching; it kept him from frustrating his teacher further.
He had been very, very lucky...
He read in silence until he was shaken by the bells tolling sundown. He folded the book closed with a sigh, letting it slide back into its spot, and started towards his room.
Tatian’s door was open as he approached, and he slowed, walking as quietly as possible as he passed, catching a glimpse of him inside, still pouring over his manual.
Once safely away, he walked faster.
He couldn’t handle being scolded any further, and he had learned long ago that the best way to avoid getting in trouble was to stay out of sight when at all possible.
Once inside his room for the night, he let his shoulders slump. Hopefully Tatian would spend the rest of his night in his offices, and in the morning, maybe he would have a fresh start...
Despite everything that had happened that afternoon, Adelaide still unrolled the corner of the sheet and retrieved the button, turning it in the light of the setting sun.
He couldn’t braid it into his tail, but...
Three strands of his mane began to twist around each other, forming a soft golden braid. He slid the button over one of the strands about halfway down, finishing off the braid by wrapping one of the longer strands around the bottom and tucking it through.
In the now dark window, he looked at his reflection, turning this way and that to see the way it looked. He’d never be able to wear it out, but...
It’s just as pretty...
After one more glance, he sighed and undid it, returning the button to its hiding place and curling up in bed.
How could beauty be so wrong? Was it truly so terrible to look for the beautiful things in a world so full of them?
He rolled over, squeezing his eyes shut and then opening them again.
It doesn’t matter what makes sense to you. It matters what you’re told. You’d think you’d have learned that by now.
He fell asleep that night hoping for a better tomorrow, a more obedient tomorrow. But when he dreamed, he dreamed of beads and buttons, of braids and beautiful things.
