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arlula shan
Your name is Arlula Shan and you are this crazy. But I mean, its not completely your fault, you have been raised all alone in the deepest part of the forest all your life by your completely batshit Tasmanian Devil Lusis, and have never really ever met...
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*collapses*
i made a fantroll picrew! includes pride flags, binder/top surgery scar option, hijabs, moveable facial features, and a Fuck Ton of hair. i worked rlly hard on it, so please send me the stuff u make in it
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CLICK HERE TO PLAY!!! THANK YOU!
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Bestiary: Genis Loci
A Genius loci is the protective spirit of a place. Genius loci are usually extremely powerful and usually also very intelligent, and nearly omnipotent and omniscient inside the area they inhabit, while others are simply vast, semi-sentient wellsprings of energy.
They are formed by powerful magical events, and in others they are the results of ley lines, mana pools, or an equivalent. Very few genius loci of this form are able to move from their native area, either because they are “part of the land” or because they are bound to it.
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Preview of an art trade im doing with @anotherinufan thats coming up
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The little shuttle the two of you had been able to commandeer was meant for much shorter trips (ie to a planets surface and back and not much else) then the deep space the two of you needed to cross. So you where left with little option but to sell the thing at the next port and get a new one. Fortunately with the shuttle being from an hospital ship it had a plethora of medical supplies on hand that could be used for trade as much as it pained you. You knew whatever war, what ever rebellion you and your mate where headed too would probably need all the medical help they could get, but what help was a trained combat medic and her solder mate to a rebellion if they couldn’t get to the action so you suck it up and start sorting things into ‘trade’ and ‘keep’ piles. Its an exhausting task, and by the end of the day you have a decent amount set aside for trading that your sure the two of you can use to get a decent sized cruiser with hopefully warp capabilities and a decent nav system.
The port the two of you land at is a weary of two trolls as could be expected; your fleet did just wipe out two planets two solar systems away. You also make an intimidating pair; both your clothes a mix mash of military garb and civy clothing found on your travels mixed with the protective air you both hold over the other in an alert wery stance one only gains from having to defend ones self for years on end. The crowds have a habit of avoiding your in that kind of way
Neither of you even suggest splitting up, even though it would be must faster and lessen the danger of being spotted as fugitives, the two of you still so over protective of the other after all the time apart. You get a good sum of money from the medical equipment, and mixed together with what the two of you got from the shuttle you are able to procure a decent sized ship with some left over. Your happy it has an actual medbay with lights and a table, your mates happy with the actually interstellar navigation system after having to go by star maps for months on end. The bigger bed is a plus too. It takes both of you almost no time at all to load up what you have broughten from the old shuttle, mostly the med supplies and troll only living requirements, before you decide that yes you do have to go and buy food no ration packets are not a thing that the two of you are gonna live off of for the rest of ever.
Clothes are also a thing that is needed; hes still wearing blood stained pants and your uniform feels too heavy on your back like a weight of a past you desperately want to leave behind. So after general supplies and tools your shoveling him into the clothes clothing store for organisms your size. He gives you a lost look, and you realize for the first time that he hasn’t had control over anything especially his appearance since hes left your home world. You haven’t really ether, uniforms a uniform, but its nothing like his chopped hair and clipped ears. So you approach it more gently, because you are not going to have him in bloody clothes any longer after all the two of you risked to get out of that life, so you help him go through what they have. Your horrible at it, even before medical uniforms you where bad at anything relating to clothes (bless Bat Dad and his joy of dress up). You yourself had gotten rid of your boots the moment you could, no shoe had ever been comfortable on your overly calloused flat feet. He had as well, but it had taken him much longer then you and you chalked it up to the mind games they had messed him over with and let him do it on his own time. You also want out of your ranked clothes, and find a few plan black tops and a small roll of fabric in your blood color, figuring you can put your symbol on them later if you want. By the time Zios ready his selection is about as small as yours, but its enough.
The two of you don’t stay in port much longer, its too risky, but after you’ve made a good distance and the auto pilots been set you drag him to take advantage of the first real shower the two of you have seen in weeks. Its small and the water doesn’t get too hot but the two of you manage, ether way his wounds still need to be properly cleaned and for the first few minuets the water runs blue from the dried blood. (And other colors too, that’s been trapped in both of your hair from your escape and maybe even before. But neither of you talk about that.) Your careful with him again, not just because of the still healing wounds around stitches and staples but because your not used to the way he looks at you so vulnerable like this. Its like hes ashamed of his body, all his new scars and there stories and what hes done to get them. You have your own share too, but not like this. Even when you had mostly ones from all the times when you had killed and eaten trolls before you ever meet him feel so pale in emotional comparison to these. So you wash his hair, and his wounds and his face. You press into him and kiss him gently, on his cheeks, on his clipped ears on all his new scars. You still love him, you never stopped and this doesn’t change that. You think he understands it, as hes washes your mane of hair and teases you about how much longer its gotten, at least you hope he does. Things are getting better you can tell, and it’s a long rode before your home.
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ALEXANDER NO I AM GOING TO CRY
(Video here)
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The first few days on there get away shuttle felt more surreal then the days waiting at his bed side. Arlula still couldn’t believe he was here, like this was some dream and she will wake up to find she had nodded off listening to his song again. But no it was real, her Matesprit was here in this tiny shuttle and she couldn’t stop touching him. There where things to do of course, like dismantling the ships tracing beacon and plotting courses and figuring out fuel and rations and -, but her hands would brush his as tools where passed or instruments adjusted and there eyes would meet in that sad-hopeful-disbelieving way.
At night they curled close and tangled on the too small single bunk the shuttle sported. Zio still needed all the rest he could get with his still healing injuries and ever returning trickle of memory; but Lula often found herself awake long after him some nights just watching him in disbelief that he was really there, just touching him.
She would often find him staring off into space, a far away look on his face. Lula often wondered where his mind went then; to there little hive in the forest together with Bat Dad, or was it the war plaguing him? He would often startle when she found him like that, looking at her vulnerable with his clipped ears and dark circles under his eyes. One day it got too much, too much of him hurting and struggling in his own head in this quiet way hes developed in there time apart, so she gently gathered his face in her hands and kissed him with all she could muster. He clung to her desperately then, an arm around her waist as the tips of her fingers brushed into his too too too short hair. When they finally broke apart for air she pressed her forehead against his and reminded herself to breath as her Matesprit shook in her arms.
By the time she had gently ushered him into the tiny resprite block his trembling had barely subsided. She tugged him into there bunk, tucking him into her in the way she used too during aftercare, his head under her chin her hand in his hair her arm over his back her legs tangled in his.
howz c^nz m helpz
He just shook his head and buried his face closer to where is was pressed into her chest, right over her blood pump. She held him tighter, stroked what was left of his regrowing hair in the way she knew he liked, and pressed her face into the top of his head between his now tall proud horns. She defiantly didn’t notest him start to cry, or how he clung tighter when she pressed a kiss into his hair. Arlula felt so lost on how to help him, she was no Geoff, but then again she was never all that good at the quadrants thing to began with. So she did what she knew how to do, in that desperate way she always claimed him as hers, she tipped his face up to hers and kissed him again.
Things flowed like one would think from there, but slower then she was sure they had ever done it. Cloths sliding off bodies as they touched in a way that was more of a need to ground a need to reassure themselves that the other was really there then anything else. She didn’t start crying herself until he entered her, like it meant this was for real in a way nothing else had before. He kissed the light teal tracks from her cheeks even as his quietly fell to join hers there. She scratched down his back, claws leaving four clean cuts through the brand on his back as he kissed her like she was air and he’d been living at the bottom of the sea this whole time.
i h^z youz, m noz letinz youz goz
[] I know, I lov- you.[]
m lovez youz tooz
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