祝日 / Permanent Vacation
AnasAbdin
noise dept.
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
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trying on a metaphor
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Product Placement
occasionally subtle
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
YOU ARE THE REASON
almost home
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NASA
roma★
taylor price
RMH
Peter Solarz
i don't do bad sauce passes
d e v o n
seen from Brazil
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seen from Japan
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seen from Saudi Arabia
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@townofcadence
TownofCadence!
⛈ - Indie Fandomless OC Multi-muse Blog
⛈ - 18+ only blog!
⛈ - 25+ Mun, 10+ years RP Experience, 20+ including ttrpg
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⛈ - Semi-selective, Crossover/OC friendly!
⛈- Mostly para or more, Icon or Iconless
⛈ - May Contain Dark Themes, Ask to Tag!
One of my besties ( @townofcadence / @eerieeyedleveret ) drew Sterling for me recently istg their art is so wonderful I JUST--
I don’t think I posted the whole thing at any point but a while back I was having fun drawing goobies (ft @townofcadence & @ssnowbunnii ‘s characters )
He's got spurs that jingle jangle jingle!
Happy Birthday @gunslinginnhogtyin!! I know you said you were interested in Butch animated like this meme, so surprise! I went a little overboard since you've been so generous and kind to me (I needed revenge for the gifts you got me for the holidays and my birthday you know, mu hahaha!), and also just because I care you!! I hope you like it!
Happy Birthday again!! 🎉🎉
I think he’s onto something (ft Hades from @townofcadence )
Butch can’t tell if what Gallant refers to as a ‘lifestyle’ is supposed to be insulting or not but he makes a face anyway. “Hey now, I still travel but I gotta place t’stay these days. ‘Fact I gotta whole house! Er…anyway—” Butch is quick to move on, knowing that probably isn’t the wisest information to share with this guy.
Gallant seats himself and Butch shoots him an incredulous stare at his words; he can practically feel the people around them move away in unison. Shameless… his eyes dart from one side to the other and he can’t help but roll them before shaking his head. “An open book, huh?” He turns to face the other man, hand moving to grab his refilled drink. He brings the glass to his lips and takes a few large gulps before setting it upon the bar table once more, licking his lips.
“I…how’re ya here?” Butch starts, “I mean, I figured ya woulda gotten yerself killed by now with all y’get up to. An—an’ why? How’re ya jus’ prancin’ ‘round an’ actin’ a fool like nothin’s differnt? Doesn’t it—doesn’t it bother ya? All this?” He asks, gesturing around them. Butch may have managed to adjust somewhat, but deep down it was still something that bothered him. Being ripped from his time and thrust into another with no one he knew. He’s not sure if Gallant had experienced something similar or not but damned if he isn’t curious as to how he’s coping with all of times change. If anyone understood it would be him, right?
“Ya’ll haven’t changed at all, have ya? How?”
"A house of your own? It seems you've done QUIIITE well for yourself in my absence! Well DONE!" He thumps Butch's back perhaps a little too firm, but not painfully so. There is too much enthusiasm to contain, it seems.
Gallant sips at his own, far more inclined to the company than the alcohol coming with it. It is a slow thing while Butch fires his questions as he does his own pistol, rapid and precisely to the point. Gallant hums after swallowing down what really should have been thrown back in a shot, though it doesn't phase him in any way but a shake of his head not unlike that of a horse.
"I'm FAR too capable and powerful and perfect at what I do to be killed by anything, Butch! My fervent belief we would perhaps meet once more drove me as well! Though I daresay I expected you to cycle back into this world a new man, not immortal such as I!" He laughs as if it must have been a playfully absurd thing to say, to imply his demise. "And is that not the duty of a hunter? To ADAPT to the situation? Any that may be put in our PATH? Well, I myself have DONE so! With aplomb! Truly it is not as you say. Nothing is different in a way that matters!" He chortles, tossing back the rest of his drink and gesturing them a third. This glass he lifts as well.
"Time is always changing, my love! You keep up or you fall behind! It was something I learned long before you were more than a wink, and something infinite stallions such as ourselves must remember henceforth! The world will always change! But the hunt itself will not! And that is worth holding to!" He raises his glass in a micro-toast.
Butch’s brows furrow. Olivier seemed so aloof, content with whatever might happen…an attitude that stifles his confidence a bit. Screw it. What did he really have to lose besides the game?
“Maybe I will.” He decides matter of factly, reaching to draw another—a seven. He tosses the card onto the table and with a sudden burst of annoyance, slams a fist against the table. He knew he should have called it! Damn it!
“Bullshit. Ghhh…alright, wise guy, let’s see what ya’ll’ve been cookin’ with!”
The most Olivier does to his outburst is lift his cards so as to keep them from scattering from the slam. The deck bounces and a few cards slide from the top, and Butch's own scatter a bit along the wood, but Olivier's stay seated like a magicians tucked between fingers. The grin never fades.
"Is this your card, dear fellow?" He asks, flipping one with a finessed flick, revealing his eight and three. "Oh my! Seems I may have read your number a bit wrong! Ah well, it's these eyes you know. So hard to see beneath all the scruff and fluff!" His tail sways behind him leisurely, and his laugh bounces about the cell.
Well, Cataleya can't deny that seeing Jace's delight at knowing that someone enjoys his passion project is making her day. And this is on top of him being the tattoo artist who's doing her special fox tattoo.
It's nice that stencils take as long as they do to dry so they've been able to chat like this... He's a really cool guy!
"Oh, he's got a YouTube channel, but it'll look like a personal one and not something for specific content." She sits up a bit straighter and gestures for him to bring the phone over so she can see. "I can help. His username is MalcontentSoul. They'll look like urbex videos but the titles are just the dates they were posted on... Nothing fancy."
If Jace were to look through the channel's videos, he would find that they go back almost a decade and were posted very sporadically. As little as a couple day between some and over a year between others.
Overall, it's rather unassuming.
"If you see a ghost emoji in the description, that's what you'll want to see for the ghost ones. Otherwise it'll actually just be urbex stuff, heh."
He's glad for her help; a channel without specific tags or keywords on their videos can be a hard thing to find through a public search. Results for videos of urbex hauntings are pretty saturated, usually by people who don't take proper precautions, by those who make the whole thing into a comedic gimmick, or even those who falsify their findings for views. And that didn't even cover AI bullshit that now pervaded.
Jace scrolls, a few flicks of his thumb, eyes scanning over the names and icons. She's right in that it looks a lot more low-key. But something as covert as MalcontentSoul's page is actually the perfect kind to look at. Creators like him tend to be more authentic, because there isn't this self-applied pressure to sell themselves and put on a persona. They're exciting, almost a first-hand account of a space getting explored! He'd put even his own videos in this category, even if he's a chattier kind of documentation, and his videos are named to make them easier to find.
They grin and tap the subscribe button, eyes flicking up to her. "I'll be bookmarkin' 'im t'check out what he has! Both haunts an' explorin' 's of interest t'me, anyway! Got a few friends who also dabble." Jace stows his phone for now, though. His eyes flick to the stencil paper and the edges of his smile curve to something sheepish. His fingers find the edge and begin to peel it off with a gentle pull. "Now that that's square, I wouldn't mind hearin' a bit about t'lady o' th' hour, though! Since we got a good while ahead o' us." He would knock off some time on the clock for good measure, given he probably made that time even longer. At least it seemed mutually enjoyable!
"Huh... fair enough, I reckon. I ain't ever really thought too much on it either, now that I think about it." His head nods. He hadn't ever really thought to stare wistfully into the eyes of any vampires enough to notice, not that he had anything against them! But well... his usual outings had him focused, ironically, on the one creature he'd hated the most. Maybe he'll make a point of taking note if he ever meets other vampires, to see if it's really all red eyes or if there's variance. Not like he doesn't have all the time in the world for it, after all.
Caesar can't help but to grin watching the way she scrunches up her shoulders, undone a bit by the way he's called her out. He laughs again, hands raising in front of him innocently. "Hey I ain't blamin' ya none! Honestly I never thought I'd see you again either, not that I'm complainin' any. Yer pretty good company, from what I'n remember. Y' gotta be, fer draggin' my drunk ass outta the street." He points out, the laugh aimed more at himself this time. "Especially since you were workin'? Oh darlin', it's awful sweet a' you, but that ain't gonna get you in trouble is i-- wait."
Like a switch, his concern for her livelihood is temporarily shifted to a back burner. "Did you just say I was at a beaver gas station? Goooood damn it! Don't tell me I was drunk and found my way to a god damn Buc-ees..!" His head drops, hand dragging down his face. "I'd say I should stop drinkin' but that ain't ever gonna happen so maybe I just need someone t' keep me chained." He sighs, clearly distraught over what has happened with the beaver's personal ring of hell. "You didn't see me eatin' none a' their jerky, did you?"
The thing he says that truly settles her isn't the self-aimed derision-- it's the mortification. That which moves him. His usual unfazed and easygoing demeanor is fine, but it also feels like a front, one she is too polite to call on when she hardly knows him. All they had was one night, a very in-depth one granted, but still just a single one. But she knows his mask is just as much a farce as her own, it must be. So to see it placed so far off his face on realizing what the drunken version of himself was doing? It is exactly what she needed; to know she's not the only one exposed.
Her arms shift, and she takes a strand of her hair, twirling it around her finger. "I don't really pay attention to gas station names, but I imagine that must be correct. I didn't see you eating their jerky.....but there were....mmm, I'd say an obscene number of wrappers around your person. You were quite upset about one of the flavors, I think? You kept complaining about it even in your stupor while I carried you here."
Now it's her turn to smirk, and her hip leans against a wall. "I guess the chain might have come in handy for you. Poor dear."
The inflection his temporary assistants tone carries in response to his observation serves to boost his ego a pinch, as if it isn’t already inflated. He’s quick to elaborate further, a clever smirk curling at his lips. “Of course. It’s probably the most valuable piece in this museum after all—what fiend wouldn’t be drawn to it?” He asks as if it’s supposed to be obvious, unaware of the fact that he’s entirely incorrect about it’s value.
“Netting?” Sterling repeats, rubbing at his chin curiously. “Ah, so you’ve come prepared as well…while it could be useful, I believe incorporating my own trap may be a bit more efficient.” He pats at himself first as if the aforementioned trap could be in his pockets and then his eyes dart about the area before he turns around.
“—Where is my briefcase?”
Fortunately for the conniving thief, Sterling is far too focused on locating his briefcase to even consider the fact that such heinous actions could be occurring right under his nose! The quickness as well as the efficiency in which the jewel is replaced goes unnoticed by his truly perceptive eyes.
“Oh, there it is.” The detective hurries over to his briefcase which he had previously sat upon the floor next to the glass case that held the very gemstone that had just been swapped. He grabs it by the handle and pauses briefly, the color of the gemstone catching his eye. “Hmm…lovely color.” He hums before turning then and striding back over to Mr. Topo. He clicks the button on the front and opens the case to reveal what looks to be a medium sized bear trap, resting upon a mess of papers and manilla folders.
“Here we are! Far more efficient than rope. And guaranteed to keep our rat trapped in place. First lesson in catching a criminal, my dear Topo, sometimes you have to take justice into your own hands.”
Olivier's smile tightens as Sterling whips around, towards the display case. But he does nothing to give anything away, and the stones have already been exchanged. The detective doesn't notice in the least bit it seems, not astute in the arts as he has had to be. Here it is their advantage. But....
It is clear they are working with a buffoon the moment he pulls out a bear trap of all things.
He blinks several times as it hangs in Sterling's hands, chain clinking where it dangles over the chaos of his bag. His brows have entered his hairline. "A---- -beartrap? What a...... clever ....method of capture." He licks his lips. "Is that---mmh. Well. Where do you propose placement of this unique tool for the job, monsieur?"
He ignores the tiniest squeak he can hear. Olivier ought to be more careful and not laugh so loudly.
She had to go back. Bonnie remembers it like it was yesterday, those rough clawed hands grabbing her and lifting her up, shoving her up on the wall. Growling at her... it hardly felt real, now! She'd been mostly scared at the time, but she'd be lying if she said she hadn't been a bit flustered, too. She's only ever found one other person who'd been able to lift her like that before! Though, that aside, there was something.... more. Something else that made her want to come back. She just couldn't put her finger on what.
But those were good excuses as any to go check up on her new friend! Especially since it's getting so cold out that it's started to snow.
Her eyes light up when he says she can come in, and she dips her head thankfully. "Oh! Thank you, and that's okay, really. I don't need anything anyway!" She shuffles inside as he steps back, hands laced tight together. She hovers once she's out of the way of the door, though, unsure of where would be okay to go. "Chilly out there, huh?"
"Not if yer built fer it." He flicks an ear. Not that he'd feel much of the cold anyway, but being fat and furry helped. "Don't worry 'bout yer shoes none. Track shit in m'self all the time."
Mack moves in a lumber, tail plastered to his leg and hunched below the ceiling to squeeze through the hall. It leads out towards the kitchen. He points a claw at a chair. "Sit there." It's a rickety piece of wood, but for now it's the nicest chair he owns. "Just remembered I got some chickens. If yer wantin' to eat."
Did a piece for my birthday and Artair's as is my tradition, and I decided to play around with animating even though I've pretty much never done it. I had a lot of fun! They're relaxing in their garden/greenhouse patio while it rains and enjoying the peaceful atmosphere with a book ^^
"Oh? Well alright, here's hopin' it wasn't nothin' too bad, then." He shudders to think of what might've come out when he was that level of drunk, especially around other people.
"Uh? Well, yeah, I thought y'all already knew that." He admits with a laugh. "I ain't ever seen a vampire with purple eyes before. Though-- I reckon it might be possible. More 'n that though I reckon I just figured y'all must 'a had some way 'a just recognizin' other vampires. Guess that one might be on me fer assumin'." He shifts back on the couch then, getting to a more comfortable sitting position.
Usually he's uncomfortable with this kind of questioning. But he's in like company, or at least like enough. And it was good company too, given how everything's shaken out so far. Caesar laughs again, flashing a playful grin. "It's kinda funny seein' y' like this, doll." A callback to an old charming nickname from ages ago. "Yer usually pretty straight-laced, ain't'cha? Never thought I'd hear ya stammerin' fer yer words." It's a light teasing, clearly meant with no ill intent. "To answer at least one a' yer questions though, I'n eat humans just fine! I ain't picky enough t' turn down some good damn blood, 'specially since it might just be all ya' had fer all I know." A hand reaches to scratch at his 'scalp', and then push his bangs back out of his face. "I reckon I didn't exactly really taste the hair color, either. I mean, kinda, but it was more so just me takin' it in and takin' a peek at the DNA sequencin'."
"Vampires can vary." Hades shrugs. "I have white eyes, mostly. Though... I suppose the pupils are red, from what I've been told. And vampires I know have red somehow. But I didn't think much on it." A second shrug, eyes askance. Purple was kind of close to red anyways. And her first inkling he wasn't human was the predatory way a vampire was, in her experience. He's laughing, self-effacing, but her arms fold over themselves where she stands. "I suppose both of us do learn new things every once in a while."
Somehow the world is so much bigger and at the same time smaller than she thought.
The reverie is cut short. Her face would likely have caught some color had it been capable of such a thing. Instead her lips thin and her shoulders rise like she's been caught doing something indecent. It is almost out of her control, which makes it all the more like fire in her face. The nickname he'd given her when they'd danced near a century ago does not help. She is a child next to him almost, uncollected and called on it. The play on his words are for her expense, though no bite lies under them. It is like their departure had no effect on him, set aside entirely.
"Well--!" She fights to find words, to sound more like what she always has to be. "I never thought I'd hear from you again at all, so I think I'm allowed the confusion. And you're saying strange things. What manner of creature are you that you can--- can 'take a peek' at DNA with your tongue?" She wants to sound almost nonchalant, but the utter bewilderment and what the fuck at everything he's saying breaks through the window at the last moment. "I just--- I can't believe I'm working and find you drunk and rambling about jerky flavor profiles outside one of those inane beaver gas stations, only for you to vex me with every new choice of yours on your waking!" Like sails her arms unfurl, gesturing in a large circle as if to encompass the entire space, before taking a fresh cigarette out of her pocket and shoving it without ceremony between her lips.
Butch is plopped into that chair abruptly and he blinks once or twice in surprise before annoyance fills his features once more. An elbow leans against the bar top and he rests his cheek in his hand, pouting a bit at what it would it cost him to get a truly expensive drink. "Yer kiddin." The cowboy snorts. "That's th' dumbest thing I ever did here!" He's sure he wouldn't have an appetite in that case, even if it entailed free food. What a waste.
Butch downs his drink once it's in front of him rather than joining Gallant in a toast, placing it down on the bar top as soon as he's finished and waving the bar tender over. "Whatever I order's on his tab, l'right?" He says in a whisper, nudging his glass towards them, "Gimme some'a tha good stuff." He swivels back around to look at Gallant, raising a brow. All those sweet words and Butch doesn't believe a lick of it's authenticity.
"....Yee-ah, t’ rejunif—whatever ya'll jus' said. Now pipe down an’ park it.” Butch demands in a way that surprises even him, pointing a finger to the stool next to him. “I got some questions fer ya’ll.”
Perhaps if Gallant hadn't been so incredibly boisterous in his volume, the bartender might have listened. But the conspiratorial whisper and what Gallant has said in audible range of everyone has the bartender giving the back of Butch's head a look that screams 'I don't want to be fired by helping you bum an expensive drink'. She only moves to fashion a fresh glass of the same when Gallant spouts "Another for my beloved!" in her direction. Pays to be the one paying.
"There's a way to do things with class, my dear!" Gallant beams with his usual smile. "I understand you haven't had much in the ways of riches when you live such a NOMADIC lifestyle, but I can SHOW you just how ELEVATEDDD a drink of such fine quality can be when paired with a dining exPERience!"
That said, they obey the command, taking the seat next to him with a truly manspread of his legs draping to the floor. "Ask away, delighter of mine orifices! I am an open book to you!"
Another glass hits the counter in front of Butch, but the bartender quickly slips away. As do many in the bar within too close an earshot. Gallant certainly has a knack for a barrier of awkward erecting around him.
🌻 - @eerieeyedleveret is Artair's new blog should anyone be interested in interacting with them! - 👁
Butch’s first impression of Gallant was that he was a brave, strong, and very handsome huntsman who was quite talented at what he did. He didn’t hold back and at the time, neither did Butch! It was admirable in his eyes—though, the more he got to know Gallant, the more obnoxious the guy has proved himself to be. While Butch still enjoyed his company to an extent, usually when they were alone, he often times felt he would overstay his welcome when assisting he and Darlene with jobs. Butch has no shame but Gallant has long taken the crown for lack of shame in any facet of the word, which often times manages to surprise Butch and even embarrass him. A rare feat!
Nowadays, Butch no longer holds the same views on monsters and otherworldly creatures—not like he once did. If only because he has met plenty who are kind and caring and very ‘human’ in nature despite their appearances. Not to mention, he’s becoming one in a way which is its own can of worms. Because of this, it’s difficult to commiserate with Gallant about the topic, especially considering Gallant can never be wrong and doesn’t seem to even want to listen when it comes to changing his mind.
However! Butch’s view on Gallant is also complicated because while he annoys him to no end, he’s also someone Butch knew in his time who’s still alive. He’s familiar. Not only that but while Butch still hasn’t quite come to terms with his transformation, still struggling to accept himself and his fate, Gallant often makes him feel validated—like he’s still human. The part of himself that even he favors. He appreciates the respect Gallant has for his hunting abilities, even if he doesn’t quite use it for that kind of thing anymore. It’s flattering! Not to mention, sometimes it’s… a really nice feeling to have someone outright dote on you despite what you may throw at them comabativitely. Despite everything, Gallant is still extremely attractive to him (on the outside atleast) when he shuts his mouth and when Butch has got a few drinks in him, he’s bearable! Not that he would ever admit to ANY OF THIS.
(This is so long omg but Butch has a lot of complicated feelings about this considering his situation jdjjdjd)
@gunslinginnhogtyin // Perceiving my Muse
Haha, Gallant is kind of like a disney prince in looks and charm, but then he opens his damn mouth! He's fun because he kinda plays a midpoint between someone self-confident that is pretty open-minded despite being a little overwhelming, and someone you definitely don't want anything to do with because of how close-minded he is when it comes to things that were never human at any point. His coping mechanism and the type of man he is makes him a pretty good villain in the right circumstances! And yet he's both familiar and passionate and when he holds you in high esteem, it can be nice to be the center of his attention because he gives you ALL of it. I don't blame Butch for feeling a bit flustered sometimes and confused, even if he has to knock back a few drinks to power through what this terrible man says xD
