#professor gray

[tsundozer]

Spiders: Does your muse squish bugs or put them outside?

“Ghm... neither.” He rubbed the back of his head, sheepishly. “Ain’t go tellin’ nobody this. But I have a terrible—near crippling fear of bugs.” He furrowed his brow, “—Ain’t this supposed to be an interview about my museum?”

[swampchild]

Prompt #04: Your Fault.

“You know, this wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t let me crash at your place, sometimes.” 

The man stared, blankly, at the assertion. Before him stood the speaker, a young miqote girl ( no, not a girl, not a guy, garbage, he dimly recalled them saying on several occasions). The miqote youth, then. It was getting hard to keep track of this nonsense. It gave him a headache. Another thing that gave him a headache, the one pounding between the center of his eyes and radiating out like a tight band across his forehead. “This wouldn’t have happened, y’say.”

Across him the bright-eyed youth shrugged, the corner of their lip tugging at a confident smirk even as their tail lashed and whipped anxiously about in the air. “Yeah! Y’know. You’re the one who invited me to stay here,” the gem embedded upon their forehead flickered, “So, like. Let’s break this down. If I hadn’t been welcome here, I couldn’t possibly have been swinging a sword in your house, right?””

“I--suppose? No. No, y’woulda gotten in here to see Velkha regardless, ain’t you try an’--”

“But I didn’t have to find my own way in! You let me in!” They gave a spirited bob of the head before whipping out their hand after a little flourish to showcase...a priceless nymian urn, shattered and ruined beyond repair. “So! It stands to reason, at the minimum, it’d have been more difficult for me to get in here. Now. If I hadn’t been swinging that,” they motioned to a wood club, a simple training weapon, which was leaning innocuously against the door to Velkha’s room, “There’s no way I woulda been able to knock loose the shelf above it, when it suddenly and inescapably fled my hands in a way that, really, nobody could have ever predicted.” They pointed to the wooden shelf upon the floor. “So, it wouldn’t have fallen onto the vase. Which wouldn’t have knocked it onto the floor. So. Really, like. This is your fault. What kind of idiot just lets in strays? I don’t know what to tell you, old man.” Gray stood there, mouthing over what was said. Trying to process what just happened.

Zihva slipped around him out the front door and vanished for a week, like the stray they were.

It was the third time this moon alone.

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

[relic-xiv]

Shadowplay

We at RELIC kindly thank @wyranimh , @weepingknight, and @floating-city-of-nem for their efforts and support in unearthing an invaluable treasure and knowledge about the fate of a viceregent wiped from the annals of history. We kindly do not thank @rhotanored for making off with an incredibly dangerous artifact better suited for our vault, although frankly, expected no less.

Thanks for coming, y’all!

LOG

(Thanks to Ruran for the screenshots!)

[mokkri-valandiel]

Visit Original Link

For this Musical OC I’m going to try to pair a song I record with each drabble. Please enjoy.

WARNING: It is somewhat LOUD

MEMORIES: The Beginning

“Hey, Mom,” G’mokkri said sleepily, belly full of rolanberry pancakes. “Do you remember the time that Rha took me and Rhivvy to beach but it was winter and it was so cold that no one got into the water?” She giggled, “Well, except for him, to prove a point about how not-cold it was. You remember, right?” Her tone was hopeful.

“Sure,” G’zixa said, long auburn hair falling over one shoulder as she sat on the bed beside her daughter. “You...brought back a bunch of shells, right? One for everyone back home and a big one for me.”

Mokkri grimaces, headache forming as she tries to remember something that just didn’t seem to be there. “It was...big.” She repeats, turning over to hold her mother’s arm. “With spikes on it! And there were a bunch of colors. What--what happened to it?”

“Oh…” Zixa said thoughtfully, “I must have…given it to Rha before he left.”

“But Mom,” Mokkri says indignantly, “Why would you give away a present I gave you!” She frowns, rolling into a ball around her mother. Her bark had very little bite, but the hurt feelings were still there.

“Mokkri, you helped me give it to him,” Zixa said calmly, adept at telling a story when one needed to be told. “It was a goodbye present for when he left to go to Eorzea. I bet--I bet if you ask him, he probably has one of the many, many shells you’ve given him over the years.” Carefully Zixa spoke in maybes and might bes, “Why don’t you ask him, now that you are in town?”

“I could,” Mokki says tentatively, “But--”

“But what?”

Mokkri frowns. It was so close, yet so far away. “I dunno. He always seems like he wants to walk out of the room when I go around. Today he wanted to run errands, the other day he wanted to go out with his lady friends more than he wanted to see me. And something about vases.” She brightens. “But I made a friend! His name is Kouga and he’s short and won’t kiss me. We’re going to fight the darkness together!” She makes muffled punching motions against her blanket coccoon. “Hi-yah!”

“Mokkri, you shouldn’t be fighting. You need to stay safe.”

“Ugh!” Mokkri turned away in disgust. “I’m just joking, Mom.” She lied--it came as easily as breathing. So many answers to so any questions when she couldn’t remember the truth came out as convenient lies. “I’m just attending training for Kouga to make sure he doesn’t get hurt.”

“Mm. So that sword you brought home is going back to the museum tomorrow?”

“I guess.” Mokkri didn’t bother to ask how her mother knew about the rapier. “But it’s not fair, for the record. You get to study at the Ossuary, Kouga gets to study with a sword and all I get is to wait for us to go to Gridania and hope the conjurers with the horns will see...me.” How did she know they had horns? She shrugged. “I’m bored. Why not just let me train?”

Zixa hesitated, but then acquiesced. “I will speak with Rha about training you as soon as I can.” G’mokkri make victorious punching motions under her covers. “But-- but. The sword stays at the museum. I don’t want violence in the inn.” Mokkri sighed a long suffering sigh but nodded. “Okay, night, little marvel.” Zixa bent down to kiss Mokkri, leaving the room.

Mokkri sighed again. But really, who needed a sword when she could throw the yard at someone? She reached a hand into the air and the beams around them creaked angrily in resistance to her magic.

“Mokkri!” came the sharp reprimand from the other room. Mokkri stopped, sheepish, tucking the arm back into bed.

There would be time to throw things tomorrow.

Mentioned: @lominsadan and @isseyas

Recorded using the FIFINE PC Microphone here.

[tsundozer]

Character Bingo!!!

Y’ALL I DONE DID IT!!!!

[tsundozer]

Prompt #03: Twelveswood Elegy

Exercise: an extensive, meandering monologue, deliberately breaking form an appropriateness. A dialogue that goes on, and on, and often loses it’s way--so the reader, themselves, become lost within it. Express intense emotion through nothing but spoken word, with sufficient weight.

Dearest G’rha,

It is with heavy heart that I reach out to you today to deliver this most unfortunate news: G’ihsa Ohsen passed on the eve of the 10th sun of the 4th Astral moon. She has been burned, and will be returned to the soil beneath the trees, as were her wishes, and as is custom of our people. Pursuant to this, we will be convening to mourn at the sunlit clearing and taking the time to speak of her memory, fondly. Your attendance has been something of a hot topic. While there has been much debate within the community, ultimately as Nunh, the final decision rests upon my shoulders.

You, G’rha, former Tia of the Griffons, second son of G’ihsa Ohsen, have been requested to attend and speak your piece. I understand this request may be presumptuous, even hurtful, for you, for myself. I take no joy in inviting you, and will take less joy in speaking myself.

But Rha.

She was our mother.

And nobody else is going to mourn.

G’ruhn Nunh

“So I had a long time t’think, on my way to these woods. In these woods. There’s an old log, where my lil’ gaggle of fuck-ups used to spend time. Y’know the place. I didn’t really try to find it, I just sorta wound up there. Funny how the wood seems to change, over time. I always thought it was dead. But there I was, unsure where I was, at least, until I found that log.”

Gray flexed his hands twice before wringing them together, as he surveyed the small gathering. Only five, maybe six people besides his brother had come to see their mother returned to the wood. He didn’t recognize either of them. When he looked in his brother’s direction, he couldn’t help but sneer. It didn’t fit the scene (that’s all this was, a scene), wearing that disdain upon his face. But disdain was all he had, wasn’t it? He decided to just talk. Shut everything else away.

“Gray, by the way. G’rha, I guess. If y’all gonna insist. I used to go there a lot, with G’rhun. With G’nerha. WIth a buncha other misfits who ain’t fit in here--an’ I just kept thinking about that. Misfits, we were misfits. I’d jokingly call us the Bastard’s club. On account o’ me an’ G’nerha, I guess. but really. We were all out of sorts, in some way. It’s really fucking sad, to see how many of you here just. Crawled your way back in-- oh, don’t give me that fucking look. Am I bitter, hells, yeah, I’m bitter. I don’t-- I don’t know what I’m doing here. I don’t know why I’m here. Where even is here? Home? I don’t think so. It weren’t home for mom, either. --Right. Mom.”

Gray gave a long, steady sigh.

“Mom-- G’ihsa Ohsen-- was born sixty-eight turns ago an’ a few moons. She was a miqote, belongin’ to the griffon tribe, daughter of G’ohsen Nunh, the nunh prior. And she died a few moons ago. When I was young, she taught me a song. Magic chords, she said, to chase the nightmares away. She had a way with music, I’ll tell you that. She had a way with her words, too. She loved t’ use ‘em to dig, t’hurt. Not just me, but boy, did she ever have a lot t’say my way. Bastard this, bastard. That. But not just me. No. She turned ‘em in towards herself, too. I’m sure that’s why she asked to be burned. We usually just bury ‘em, yeah? Bury deep under the wood, let ‘em nourish the flowers. I don’t think she wanted that. T’be flowers. I don’t think she wanted to exist at all. Not that she had a godsdamned clue, near the end. I don’t--y’wanna hear a story ‘bout her? Bet y’all don’t. Bet whoever’s here just can’t wait to see us empty out this urn all over the fuckin’ grass, and that’s that. Bet you were hopin’ for a few quick, empty words. Well fuck that. Fuck that.She’s not--she’s not allowed. To go peacefully, into the godsdamned night.--”

Gray felt words catch in his throat for a moment, the world spun and he stumbled, bracing himself against a tree. Another sneer. Did they know he’d been drinking, before this? They probably knew. They could see it on his face. Well, what’d the expect? He was going to do this sober? He spent enough time sober, lately. All of it, even. He was proud of that. But he can’t-- you can’t expect him to come here, and look you all in the eye, with a happy smile and a lucid gleam in my eye.

 “What,” he nearabouts growled,  “we’re--we’re all gonna wave her off, an’ pretend none of it ever happened? No. Fuck it. Story time. When I was twelve. I had my heart broke, for the first time. I tried talkin’ to G’nerha an’ she called me a runt, and you know what? I was. But I think it went deeper, than that. I don’t have to say it. There was no way in hells, I was ever gonna be the Nunh. Had no right to be, I wasn’t really part of the griffons. So when I went home, an’ I told her. She slapped me. You know--a kid comes in crying, and what, you fucking slap them? And--and do you-- d’you know what she said? Do you know what she fucking. said. to. me? It’s a good thing, Rha, that she didn’t take you seriously. What if she told the nunh? You’d make our lives worse than it already is. You’re a bastard, and that’s all you’re ever gonna be. A bastard. What a. What a loving, fucking mother, huh? Well, she was right. I’m a bastard. Especially tonight. Y’know. Y’know why I don’t wanna let her just, go, like this? Get off free? Because there ain’t nothin’ I can do otherwise! I went to see her, six moons ago. I’m sure y’all remember that on account o’ it not bein’ so pretty. You had her in a lil’ hut. Alone. It smelled like piss an’ her clothes were in tatters and I felt the bile rise in my throat, an’ even as angry as I was I remember myself askin’ but ain’t no-one takin’ care of her? And y’know, I knew the answer to that. Of course not. Because who would ever take care of a monster like her. And I didn’t feel better, about that. I thought I should have, but I didn’t. I didn’t feel sad, either, and maybe that woulda been appropriate too. No. Y’know what I felt? I felt even more pissed that--that. That y’all didn’t take accountability. Because you know what? You’re the monsters that made her. Gods, fuck. Why am I even here? Where--y’know. Like I was sayin’. She didn’t even know me from none of you. Have you ever looked into someone’s eyes, and just thought. They’re gone? There’s nothing there. They’ve checked out, given up, long ago. She spent the whole time babblin’ about Rhun. Of course she’d talk about Rhun. She must have been so proud of him, for makin’ it so far-- you’re doin’ great, brother! Really! Thank you so much for inviting me! -- and y’know what? I came there. I came there, to tell her I fucking hated her. I wanted to tell her how those words sunk into my skull and wrapped around the folds in my brain and how I can’t think of myself as Gray I can only think of myself as The Bastard, and that was her fault. That was her fault. I remembered the time, she told me that I was sick. And she was sick, too. That we were all sick. And I wanted to blame her, for that. I wanted to tell her, I’m poison. I’m poison, you know that? I’m fuckin’ rot, and you put it inside me. You put it inside me an’ I give it to everyone I know. And I couldn’t. I couldn’t, because she wasn’t fucking there. Then she looked at me. Really, looked at me. I thought. And I was ready. I was ready. I woulda taken her wrinkled, decrepit face in my hand and squeezed while I told her. That I hope the rest of her life is a wakin’ nightmare, and that I hoped that without me to blame, she’d realize she were the problem. Always the problem. I was gonna ask her, why she ain’t never loved me. Why she ain’t never cared. Why she’d teach me songs, if she’d only tell me I’d never play them right. Why she’d feed me, if she’d blame me for never having enough. Why she’d raise me, only to remind me, every godsdamned moment. that i was never gonna be enough for her. I was gonna scream. I was gonna rant. I was gonna make her feel every onze of hate she ever gave me tenfold. ...And then it all just. Went away. When she looked at me, she asked me.

Where am I? And then she started to cry. She started to sob. Hysterically, like she ain’t understand none of this and let’s be fair, she didn’t. This wasn’t her home. This wasn’t her young child, Rhun, even if she kept insistin’ I was such. And it was all just. Gone. There was her guitar, in the corner. In a heap of garbage. Out of tune, but whatever. I started t’play. We’re in your tent, I told her. We’re in your tent. And tomorrow, Rhun’s gonna challenge the nunh. Ain’t that swell? He’s gonna give you a better life. The respect you deserve. Ain’t nobody gonna mistreat the mother of the Nunh. There’s a warm fire in the center. The flaps are open to ventilate. I saw her think about it. I saw her smile. Just a bit. I’d never seen her smile before. She asked me where Rha was. I’m right here, I wanted to say. I’m right here, an’ I’ve been here all along, I wanted to. Cry. I wanted to ask her why she’d never seen me, why she’d never see me, why I was just the bastard and not her son. But instead I said, he’s out playin’, with his friends. That’s good, she said. That’s good. She wished he’d come in. He was too content to waste his life away, he should have been learning to hunt already. But if that’s how he was going to have it. I told her, he’ll be back in time for the fight. Y’all are gonna have your favorite meal. This is gonna be a night y’all won’t ever, ever, forget. She asked me if the night were gonna be pretty. If we’d see the stars in the clearin’. Reckon we will, Ma. I still don’t think she knew where she was. I think she was lost. She looked me over one last time, an’ she said, get out. You can stop that racket. My son plays it much better, and he’ll be home soon. I cried. I didn’t know what else to do, but cry. I curled up at her feet and sobbed, while her gaze grew distant and she took to starin’ at the wall, lost in the memory I’d helped put together. And now here I am, again. And I can’t help but thinkin’. When she asked, where she was? I just keep thinkin’ about it and. Maybe she was always lost. It couldn’t have been easy, shoulderin’ the blame of a kid outside the nunh. Not receiving support. From any of you. In raising me. And y’know. I’m lost, too. I don’t know where to go. I don’t know what to do. It’s not like any of you ever gave me direction. Why would you? A runt and a bastard, I’d never amount to anything. But even me bein’ born? That was ma lookin’ for somethin’, searchin’ for somethin’ outside of this. That I don’t think she ever found. And y’know. ...Fuck you all. For what you did to her. Because this ain’t about my mom. Not really. It’s about the people who made her the way she was. Because this is on all of you. You’re all responsible. Not just responsible. Culpable. The blame, for people like my mother. Lies on y’all. She didn’t know what to do, she had nothin’, an’ y’all took even that. You left her. IN a fucking room. And y’know. I bet--I bet. Y’all called me here, to hear this. You wanted me. To talk about how awful, she was. How shitty, she was. And y’know what that was my plan too but suddenly I don’t want to. I wanna say how shitty all of you are. And I wanna ask. Where am I? Where was I ever? I don’t know, what I want. I don’t know, where I’m going. I’ve been chasing something all my life. I’ve been trying to fill up holes y’all left in me. Tryin’ to curse the poison, you all. Put in me. So I’ll spread the fuckin’ ashes, myself. And I’ll tell her, I forgive you. And I’m gonna look y’all in the eye.

Each. And every one of you. In the eye. And I wanna ask.

Why didn’t you see me?”

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

[tsundozer]

Memories

[tsundozer]

🤐Would they ever confess their feelings first?

Sort of. Gray will make an initial move but then will rapidly backtrack and try and take it back. Gray has a lot of impulse control problems, and often jumps the gun on his feelings--his first admission probably isnt a true one?

Then when it does it, REALLY HIT,

He panics and tries to cut and run unless someone puts a hand over the self destruct button before he slams it.