Tumgik
#tulsi ain
aaapplepie · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
tulsi! yeehaw
(unblurred/unfiltered bg under the cut bc I spent too much time on it and then covered it up lmao)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
right pic is the original bg for tulsi's shop!
164 notes · View notes
cursed-nyxan · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media
Looks like I did it again but this time with Last Legacy characters cos I have no life. Today's host are The "Flirty prince Queen" Type The "Mom Friend" Type The "Tall and wild" Type The "Little devil deer" Type The "Bun-bun" Type and The "Secretly Babygirl" Type
127 notes · View notes
mothacabra · 4 months
Text
there is a very disappointing lack of last legacy merch and i have an issue with that
29 notes · View notes
crabbarts · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media
When this is all over, let’s get drinks!
426 notes · View notes
diamo-chan · 2 months
Text
Spontaneous thought (headcanon)...
Tulsi drilled multiple time-consuming hair-care routines into Sages brain.
Like, have you seen her awesome gorgeous long hair?! Please let me envision her being responsible and successful in her mission of getting Sage's hair from a neglected rat's nest to his luscious silky braided testimony of good ilephtan genetics.
Unfortunately he only started listening after he left her with Zenith and no clue of his future whereabouts. After mournfall when he no longer regularly visited the bath at Fathom, out of need with his hair matting. And so he could occupy himself with something for a while.
He told himself that it was just to get the ladies, but the whole progress has something almost relaxingly ritualistic to it. And with his hair looking better and better he'd sometimes look into the mirror and ask himself 'what would Tulsi say, if she saw me right now?'
14 notes · View notes
pugwitharug · 2 years
Text
MC Petting The Ilephtas, Part One: The Fluffies
I miss having something soft and warm to pet, so I'm making this to compensate. And I also need to separate this post or else I'm never gonna finish this
GN Reader, I debated putting Anisa on here since she's half-Ilephta but I'm not sure if she would get the reaction I'm going for lol, you're dating them in the different scenarios because yes, I miss them and I want them to come home from the war, they gonna be somft......because I said so
🐱Sage Lesath🐱
He's a big physical touch guy, we all know that. He's constantly rubbing himself against you, scent marking you, smelling your own unique and lovely scent, seeing how red you can get when he inconspicuously squeezes your ass lol
And we know it's canon he likes getting his ears rubbed so
*grabby hands* gib me kibby ears
You know that special way he likes it, cupping his ears in your hands while your fingers rub against the thin skin, feeling the heat of his blood rushing through as you massage them. His eyes flutter closed and he lets out a long purr as you sit in his lap, his hands cradling your hips
He especially loves it after long days of hunting down bounties and hitting the taverns and whatnot
I think.......if you pet him before he goes to sleep he'll sleep better and I don't think this poor man has a good sleep schedule
KISS 👏 THE 👏 TOP 👏 OF 👏 HE 👏 HEAD 👏
Mess around with his hair! It helps him calm down! Just don't hit a tangle or he'll bite you. Nom nom
Do you think Ilephta hair is sort of a different quality than normal human hair? Like, I don't know, is it softer than human hair naturally? I'm gonna say yes because I can
You joke that you'd sleep better if you had a pillow stuffed with Sage's hair. He laughs but you notice him trying to push his braid behind his back
Normally touching his tail is a sign of smexy times for him but when he turns around with a smirk and wiggling eyebrows and he sees you innocently twirling around his tail fur he feels guilty
Overall 9/10, wonderful petting experience until he bites you
🐯Lucan de Bhaldraithe 🐯
I looked it up specifically for this and tigers can't purr, but you know if he could he'd be like a fucking lawnmower
He likes it best when you massage his scalp! After a long day he plops his head in your lap and you work your magic fingers on him and he's in heaven
His ears are so fluffy omg. I think they're a little less sensitive than Sage's so you can mess around with them a little more
Run your fingers through his hair...........please 🥺
His hair is so soft, it's a little sad he doesn't have long hair cuz you would have a free blanket
Also please rub his back. I headcanon he has back pain from carrying those fat badonkadonks because the human spine is an architectural nightmare so give him a massage. Rub his back as he tells you about his day. His tail will wag happily
Speaking of his tail he's constantly having it touch you. Wrapped around your leg, your waist, your wrist, your arm, even just letting the fluffy bit tickle your back
Actually I don't think tigers have a fluffy bit on their tail but...I don't care he's gonna be a fluffy boi
His hair is like, a little more smooth than soft if you rub it in the right direction. Like velvet, with a little more poof. I read that a tiger's fur gets more coarse as they get older but Lucan isn't that old
He be just..........babie
🗡️Elowen de Bhaldraithe🗡️
Look, she has a reputation to uphold. If you're out in public and you try to pet her, she will put on her unbreakable poker face
But at home? Hoo boy
Is she a mountain lion? I don't know but I'm saying yes because they can purr and I think that's adorable
She doesn't have as loud of a purr as Sage does, but it's nice and soft. Good to listen to as you fall asleep
BRAID HER HAIR! It reminds her of Lucan when they were young, when he would always mess with her hair as he tells her about every single little detail of his day. It's useful for work too :3
Her tail........it looks soft and sleek, and it is, but it's also pretty strong. Not prehensile, but she can pick up certain items that might seem too heavy
She likes shoulder rubs! It's canon now! Massage her shoulders after a long day and she'll melt into you
She's not a big snuggler but if you're having a bad day she'll offer her head for you to pet and mess with
I also think she tends to bite if you snag your fingers or your comb on a tangle, or growl at you at least but she doesn't really mean it
Or does she.........?
I love her, my wifey. I'm married to (almost) everyone in LL lol
🐇Tulsi Ain🐇
She knows people want to pet her, but when she was younger she probably had some experiences with people petting her, then swiping something of hers while she was distracted, so she might not always be up to being pet
But she'll make a special exception for you. She trusts you :3
The fur on her ears isn't super long but it can get tangled sometimes. Gently comb her hair after she wakes up. She likes it, but she might fall back asleep lol
Does she have a little bunny tail? I hope she has a bunny tail. Little wiggle wiggle
She gets embarrassed if you pat it. But please do. Do us all a service
ALSO👏 KISS👏 THE👏 TOP👏 OF👏 SHE👏 HEAD👏
I think she prefers full body cuddles as opposed to rubs on individual parts, but she won't complain if you decide to do that
But her hands.........hold them........kiss them..........cherish them................
Bumby wife🥺
153 notes · View notes
nonbinaryspy · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Part 2
187 notes · View notes
astranautic · 2 years
Text
Welcome to N*x H*dra, we have an elaborate variety of characters including:
1. Wizard
2. Alcoholic
3. Girlboss
4. Alcoholic’s girlboss little sister
5. Goatman antagonist who somehow became the fan favourite and will also get very mad if you call him goatman
6. …… who?
401 notes · View notes
bri-the-bi · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
Sage you literally did the exact same thing to tulsi lmao
85 notes · View notes
hallow-moons · 2 years
Text
Names in Last Legacy and their meanings
I made a post like this a while back but didn't go into too much detail and only did the names of the main 3 plus Rime, Lucan and Elowen.
So here's a more in depth look plus more characters.
Tumblr media
Sage - Latin for "wise" or "healthy" or English for the sage plant.
Lesath - 1. Greek meaning "foggy." 2. The name comes from the Arabic las’a, meaning “pass (or bite) of a poisonous animal.” Also one of the stars in the Scorpio constellation.
Tulsi- Hindu meaning "basil"
Ain - Arabic meaning "eye" or Estonian for "Yahweh is gracious." Also one of the major stars in the Taurus constellation.
Anisa - Arabic for "pleasant companion" or a possible play on the star anise plant.
Anka - Hebrew meaning "grace" or "favor." Ankaa is also a star in the Phoenix constellation.
Felix - Latin for "happy" or "lucky."
Iskandar - Arabic variant of the name Alexander.
Escellun - Son of Escell.
Elowen - Cornish for "elm tree"
Lucan - Italian for "light" or the Irish variant of the name Luke
de Bhaldraithe - An Irish surname
Rime - English meaning ice or frost. Or Old English for a poet or minstrel.
Solano - Spanish & Aragonese for "place exposed to the sun."
Varela - Galician meaning "belonging to the sea."
Saaros - (Saros) Greek meaning "sweep" or The Saros Cycle - A period in which eclipses repeat themselves.
Azimuth - (noun) 1. the direction of a celestial object from the observer, expressed as the angular distance from the north or south point of the horizon to the point at which a vertical circle passing through the object intersects the horizon. 2. The horizontal angle or direction of a compass bearing.
Orion - Greek meaning “rising in the sky” and “dawning.” Also "The Hunter" star constellation.
Vega - 1. Spanish meaning "dweller in the meadow" or "one who lives on the plain." 2. The name is a loose transliteration of the Arabic wāqi‘ (“falling” or “landing”), from the phrase an-nasr al-wāqi‘, meaning “the falling eagle.” Also a star in the Lyra constellation.
Florian - German form of the Roman/Latin word for "flower" or "blossoming."
Valerian - Latin meaning "strong" or "healthy." Also a type of plant.
Anguis - Latin meaning "dragon" as in the Hydra constellation.
Scylla - Greek meaning "tear", "rip", "smash to pieces." A sea monster in Greek mythology.
Escella - daughter of Escell
Balsam - German occupational name for a seller of spices and perfumes or Latin balsamum 'balsam aromatic resin'
Celena - Greek meaning “the moon.”
Escell - no name meaning found
Mirun - Greek meaning "myrrh"
Ayanna - Swahili origin meaning "beautiful flower."
That's all the characters from the actual VN, but below I wanted to include my two LL MCs as well. Just for fun.
Aura - Latin for "wind" or aura as in spiritual energy.
Gallagher - Irish/Gaelic meaning "foreign helper."
Ris - Bosnian word for the Lynx cat.
Alcyone - Greek meaning "kingfisher" (a type of bird), and the name of the brightest star of the Pleiades in the constellation Taurus.
99 notes · View notes
poisonouswritings · 2 years
Text
LegacyTober Day 2: Fall
Yes I know Day 2 is supposed to be MC but since my MC's birthday is on Halloween, I figured I'd save it for then. So we're gonna sub it out for what everyone likes about Fall!
Felix loves the aesthetic. Leaves falling to the ground and leaving gnarled branches clawing at the sky is just. so aesthetic. His taxidermy barn owl and raven get special attention this time of year. He likes to stay inside but he'll do his work with the window open.
Anisa loves the different treats that come out this kind of year! She'll grab your hand and drag you into the marketplace where it's pumpkin spice for days. Always gets extra cinnamon. Wears a scarf. If you're cold then she'll give it to you, but you could probably wrap it around you both if you stay close together.
Sage wants to crunch the leaves! It's a pain in the ass to rake them all together but it's worth it. He'll spend a solid hour just rolling around and making everything crunch. Will pull you into it too. May fall asleep if the sun is hitting you. He also loves warm apple cider. May go with Anisa to the market for fall snacks.
Rime likes to melodramatically wander around in a black chiffon robe and monologue about death. At first you think it's some kind of coping thing?? And maybe it is, in part. But for the most part he just likes being dramatic. If you earnestly start comforting him he'll get flustered and tell you to knock it off, but he'll be smiling.
Elowen also likes leaves! She'll bring you on walks and say that it's too admire the countryside but really it's so she can (discreetly, so as not to ruin her reputation of a super badass femme fatale) stomp on as many leaves as possible.
Tulsi likes getting to dress in warm clothes! Big floppy sweaters where she can use the sleeves to smack people, lazy day sweatpants, scarves, etc. Obviously she can't wear them in the forge but when she goes out, she's dressed for the season.
82 notes · View notes
gwenene · 2 years
Text
Last Legacy headcanons 💫
Fun hcs I felt like making because I miss last legacy and desperately want them to come back
Felix’s favorite board game is scrabble (and he always wins. Sage will no longer play with him)
Anisa tests all of Tulsi’s prototype weapons for her. Her favorite is the swordchucks
Speaking of swordchucks, Sage is banned from touching them. Tulsi won’t let him anywhere near her prototypes after he nearly sheared his tail off
Tulsi grills fish and kabobs every Friday for the Starsworn (and her raccoons)
Felix randomly hums songs as he works
Rime is the only good cook in the Starsworn. Sage is second best. Anisa and Felix are banned from the kitchen.
Elowen likes to collect shiny objects. Sometimes she’ll find random things while walking and scoop them up like a crow
When he’s tired, Rime will occasionally use illusion magic to make it look like he got dressed and ready in the morning. He didn’t.
Felix and Anisa like to share snacks with each other
Sage hates birds. He won’t explain why (kitty man)
Sage and Anisa once binged on a bunch of sweets from the market together. When they got back to Fathom, they promptly threw up and Rime made them lay down under his care for the rest of the day
Felix despises pumpkin spice coffee. Rime gets it to piss him off
Anisa has a scarf collection. She’ll lend anyone a scarf if needed
Saaros likes to recommend everyone skincare products. They are absolutely appalled by Anisa’s use of hand soap-
Felix loves dark chocolate. He keeps his stash in a false compartment so nobody (including Stella) takes it
Elowen will occasionally do Felix’s eyeliner for him. She can make it look SHARP
Rime and Sage have mini knife-throwing contests. Felix and Anisa had to intervene after a knife thrown just barely missed their faces.
Anisa likes frappes. She’ll always ask for extra drizzles of caramel
Elowen and Stella have an unspoken alliance with each other. They slow blink.
After Felix is done snacking on olives, Sage will drink the olive juice
Sage likes to nap under sunny windowsills. Someone tell Rime to put the marker away-
Tulsi can make sun catchers well. She’s given Felix one. Stella tries to catch the light that shines off it
136 notes · View notes
choleraciemna · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
Wellcome to the club, Carly 😹😹😹
162 notes · View notes
pelibirdie · 2 years
Text
I HAVE FINISHED. ITS THE HOTTEST TULSI IVE EVER DRAWN.
I'm also gonna post this to @pelibirdie on insta later lol
Tumblr media
Anyway, @poisonouswritings @pugwitharug yall rang? I literally rose from the dead slumber to finish this in the blessed hours of artists: past 1 AM <3
119 notes · View notes
evanox · 2 years
Note
Hello! I love your stories about last legacy, and I take advantage of the fact that the requests are open I want to give one, basically some platonic headcanons of sage and tulsi with a reader who took care of them as children and was like their mother / father figure during their youth, thanks in advance and thanks!
I'M SORRYYYY I'm so sorry this took so long but I loved the req sm I def went a little overboard with it... I hope at least it is worth the wait!! Also big thanks to Zeke again for beta reading and helping brainstorm stuff <33
Also I've written the reader to be a baker bc Sage did mention in ch2 that the street bakers were some of few people who looked upon him and the other kids with a little kindness and I thought it was v sweet
m.list
i.
'Wharf rats,' the people had called them: a group of homeless kids who made a home out of Porrima's docks, and every day they would venture deeper into the city to hunt for food and pickpocket for a living. You've been here long enough to notice when one of them bumps into a shopper, stubby yet nimble little fingers passing over their pockets in search of coin, all while the person remains none the wiser.
You also notice when they swipe a warm loaf of bread or fresh fruit from the stalls lining the shopping district, and you've never tried to stop them when they came for yours. It'd be a shame to throw away what remains of pastries and cake after you close for the night anyway, and while you'd be more than happy to offer the kids the excess yourself, there are one too many stingy customers who complain about having to pay for your goods while the kids get them for free.
Also, it's terribly adorable when a proud, satisfied smile draws over their little faces once they get their hands on a baked treat without getting noticed. You notice though; it's your fun little secret.
This one boy, however, has always seemed particularly ambitious, swiping three or more slices of whatever rather than one or two at a time. You've wondered if you should do something about it, but greed came to kick him in the ass before you could make up your mind. Unlike you, and a few other kind vendors, people do not take too kindly to petty thievery, and a misstep from that little kid leaves him curled on the ground, arms hugging the bruises blooming over his ribs.
He hisses and scratches and bites as you pull him over behind your stall. There's a bucket of water, some bandages, and a salve (meant for burns from the oven, but it's not like you've got much else to work with; this is a bakery not an apothecary), all of which you lay out before him so he knows you only mean well. Slowly his shaking subsides and he pulls the worn out rag hanging off the bucket's rim, dips it in the water, then wipes at his face and cleans out the blood from where the sharp tip of a boot had split his skin open. In the meantime, you rush to a stall that sells fish closer to the docks, and borrow a bucket of ice that you can empty into a cotton bag to press against his bruises.
You half-expect the boy to have already left when you come back, but he's right where you left him, staring wide-eyed at the racks upon racks of fluffy loaves and intricately-carved pastries. That's when you get the idea—you grab a fish-shaped pastry filled with spicy curry (it's always been his favorite, you've noticed) and offer it to the boy. He scowls at your outstretched hand, but you can clearly see the internal battle through his amber eyes. Eventually he succumbs and grabs the pastry, wolfing it down and almost choking twice. Only then does he let you get closer, but his careful gaze never leaves your hands as you place an ice-pack over a particularly nasty bruise.
You offer him another pastry, then another, and then you ask his name. "M'Thage," he manages to say between bites, crumbs flying all over the place. At some point Sage stops eating and looks over the tray of goods you put before him, seemingly guilty, then pockets a few (avoiding all deer-shaped ones) and scurries away. At least he has the decency to yell out a 'thank you!' over his shoulder as he disappears into an alley.
ii.
You think the persistent banging at your door is a customer who missed the very obvious 'CLOSED' sign outside (a far too frequent occurrence ever since you moved business indoors for the winter), but it's Sage, trembling under the weight of a small body draped over his back. Two fluffy, bunny-like ears droop over either side of her head, and snow coats her black, messy hair in a fine layer of white.
"She's sick. I don't—I don't know what to do." This is the first time Sage has spoken to you since that one time you helped him after he got kicked to a pulp in the shopping district. "Please, help her."
Though he pleads for your help, he's still too reluctant to let the little girl go, so you lead him inside where he can lay her over the carpet right by the fireplace. You decide not to say anything about the trail of wet, muddy footprints he leaves on the floors.
You pull your warmest blanket from where it was folded at the top shelf of the closet, along with two towels; one you hand to Sage and the other you dry the little girl's hair with. Her pulse is slow and her fingertips are so cold they could freeze and fall off, but her face radiates heat that rivals that of the hearth.
"Is she gonna be okay?" Sage's eyes are blown wide with fear, and he looks at you like you're the one person in Astraea who can save her. You're no doctor, but in the face of his fragile hope you can't help but smile reassuringly and pat his head. "Don't worry; she'll be alright."
You show Sage how to keep dipping a washcloth in cold water, wring it until it's no longer dripping wet ('and not too dry either,' you have to remind him when he squeezes it with all his might), then place it over her forehead, rinse and repeat—keeping him busy while you mop the muddy footprints off the floor, then prepare dinner for the three of you.
For a while, all is quiet in your house save for the fire crackling in the other room, and the soft scraping of metal against metal as you stir the savory stew bubbling before you. It feels peaceful, even as the howling winds rattle the windows, until Sage's voice rises above the storm and breaks the silence, "Tulsi! Tulsi!"
Rushing to the bedroom—stew long forgotten on the stove—you find the girl has finally woken up, delirious eyes shifting around the room until they focus on her brother, then you. You look to Sage before you carry his sister to your bed, and prop her up against the pillow. Back in the kitchen, you ladle some stew into two bowls, one you hand to Sage and the other you slowly spoon-feed to Tulsi.
With every sip she seems to regain more of her strength, until you can barely fit a spoonful of food into her mouth between all her rambling—about how good the food is, how warm your house is, how lovely your hair is, how rambunctious her brother is, so on and so forth.
So this is to whom all those extra pastries went, you realize absentmindedly.
"Say 'thank you,' Sage!" Tulsi folds her arms, trying to glare at her brother, but it's hard to feel threatened by these sweet oxen-eyes. Still, Sage relents and thanks you with a huff, before frowning at his empty bowl.
"Would you like seconds?"
"Yes!" he answers a little too quickly, and blushes when Tulsi giggles. You refill everyone's bowls, and add a third one for yourself. It isn't long before Sage is frowning again, and you think you know what pulls his eyebrows into such a worried furrow this time, so you try to put his mind at ease—
"You can stay for the night. Maybe the storm will calm tomorrow, then we'll call for a doctor."
"Don't got doctor money," Sage grumbles.
"I do."
He begins to protest, but a glance at a very sleepy Tulsi renders him voiceless even as his lips try to form the words.
"You don't owe me. Not now, not ever."
Slowly, Sage starts to relax, until his little shoulders slump like a heavy burden had fallen off of them.
Later that night, you try to make quick work of cleaning the kitchen until your attention is drawn away by a tug at your apron. You look down to find Sage, and he fixes you with a sharp gaze that looks out of place on such a young face. "I've got to go. You take good care of Tulsi."
It's a little endearing how he reminds you of a mother cat, leaving her kittens with a nice human because she decided she trusts them. However, Sage is but a child himself, and the storm rages on outside with no sign of stopping anytime before sunrise. "In this weather? Where to?"
Before he could answer, Tulsi emerges from the bedroom, wide eyes brimming with tears, "You're leaving?"
"I've got to find Balsam," he tries to sound firm, but it seems any conviction Sage might've had withers before Tulsi's gaze, the latter only looking more frazzled by the second.
"Take me with you! I want to see if Balsam is okay too! I don't wanna stay here alone!"
"We can look for him tomorrow, and you can tell him you had to stay with Tulsi. He knows you went to find help, no?" You reassure Sage, who nods, then you turn to Tulsi, "This isn't his first winter here, is it? Your friend must've found a place to hide. I'm sure he'll be fine."
Or at least you hope so. You have to believe it for their sake.
After reminding Sage to leave his shoes at the front door, you tuck the siblings into your bed, wish them goodnight, then head for the couch with a spare blanket and pillow. Hours later, sleep still refuses to grace your heavy eyelids, not because the couch is uncomfortable, but you can't stop thinking about Sage and Tulsi, their friend, and how many other kids are out on these streets, weathering the raging storm all on their own. How many aren't going to make it through the night, and who will remember them?
The doctor who answers your call next morning prescribes some medicine for Tulsi before reassuring you that she'll be just fine. You look over her frail body lying in your bed, clinging to Sage to leech at his warmth, and your heart aches at the thought of sending them back to the unforgiving cold, so you fix a warm breakfast of assorted pastries and tea for the three of you. In the afternoon you run a warm bath for Tulsi and only go in when she asks for help with her hair, then in the evening you make dinner for the four of you after Sage brings Balsam in. Later that night, Tulsi sleeps in your bed again.
And that's the story of how you accidentally adopted one (two? three?) little wharf rat(s).
Tulsi lives with you now. You read her bedtime stories every night, even after she learns to read them herself. You find out she has a knack for historical fiction, so that's what fills your bookshelves (which Sage refuses to touch—'I've heard better stories from the sailors by the docks,' he'd gloat). As the days pass, Tulsi becomes more comfortable sleeping without Sage watching over her. One night she slips out of bed and curls up next to you on the couch, so you carry her back to your bed where you sleep side by side.
Sage, on the other hand, comes and goes as he pleases. Some nights he sleeps huddled with all the other kids by the docks; other nights he crawls in through the bedroom window to make sure Tulsi's sleeping well. Sometimes he'll stay over for dinner after bringing you a large bucket of fish he proudly claims he caught by himself (if you couldn't tell by the stench of fish and rotten seaweed clinging to his clothes—he fights tooth and nail before he succumbs to a bath), and sometimes he'll stay well past dinner, so you teach him how you make the fish pastries he loves so much.
Every so often he hands his sister a meager allowance though she very much does not need it now that she lives with you, and he refuses to tell you how he makes the money. You're starting to worry that pick-pocketing isn't his only source of income, if the scars and bruises are anything to go by, and every time you try to express your concern he snaps that you're not his parent and it's none of your business. He's right, of course, yet you find your heart hurting when he says it.
You think it's pride that keeps this little boy from settling down with you and Tulsi, but really, Sage has learned early on that you can never rely on someone for too long. Should the rug be pulled from under their feet—should you decide you no longer want them in your house—he'll always be ready to catch Tulsi before she takes the fall.
iii.
Try as you might, this wood bends to neither your will nor your hands, the latter now covered in splinters. The blacksmith from next door raps his knuckles against your windowsill to wish you a good morning, and when you invite him in for tea and scones, you pray he knows his way with wood just as he does with metal.
After coming back with some tools from his shop, your neighbor sets to work, putting together a new bed for Tulsi, who watches him with awe. You don't think you've seen her blink at all. One too many times you've had to pull the hammer from her little fist before she could hurt herself.
Eventually, the blacksmith shuffles on his knees to make space for Tulsi, and wraps his fist over hers as they tap a nail into place with the hammer together.
"Look at you! You're a natural!" he exclaims, and Tulsi beams. "How'd you like being an apprentice at the smithy? Maybe once you get a lil' taller... These bones are too old to keep hammering at swords for much longer anyway."
"You talk like you've got one foot in the grave," you tut at him. "And how do you know she doesn't want to be my apprentice? I've been teaching her how to separate the egg whites from the yolk, you know, and she's taking to it very quickly!"
That's a lie... mostly. Tulsi's only successful dish so far has been grilled cheese; even Sage has better luck in the kitchen.
"You're just mad she doesn't like waiting for things to bake in the oven. I tell you kid, you're gonna love working the forge."
Tulsi pays no mind to your banter, still starry-eyed ever since your neighbor complimented her hammer skills.
Sure enough, she becomes the blacksmith's apprentice only a year later, much to your dismay; you end up paying for his drinks for the next month now that you've lost the bet. At least you know it's worth it when every night she comes back from work beaming brighter than a firefly on a summer night despite the soot covering her face. You've bought a new towel that you hang on a chair in the kitchen so Tulsi can clean up her face first thing when she's back home. You still have to do it for her since she always forgets to do it herself.
She gifts the first sword she makes under the blacksmith's mentorship to Sage, and the first dagger to you, and the second one to Balsam.
You swear time runs by too fast; next thing you know, you're celebrating the opening of Tulsi's very own smithy. It hasn't been a day since she declared being open for business but long lines are already forming at her door.
"She did build up quite the reputation as an apprentice," your heart swells with pride every time you repeat the story to one of your fellow vendors, killing time with small talk before the streets fill with shoppers. "Now she's the youngest blacksmith of Porrima, and one of its best, if not the best."
Though Tulsi had moved out, and crowds of mercenaries and knights keep her busy all day, she'll always make time to visit you in the evening, and you'll prepare the oolong tea she loves while you catch up. She still wears the headband you gave her years ago to keep her hair out of her face; far too often had she come back from your neighbor's workshop with burnt tips. The towel you used to wipe her face with still hangs off of the same chair in the kitchen.
"Do I have to move in with you just to remind you to get that grease off of your face?" you huff as she laughs. Perhaps some things are never meant to change.
Meanwhile, Sage doubles up in height seemingly overnight and his body has yet to catch up, so he looks more like a lanky, awkward dandelion stalk struggling to readjust to his new sword (also made by Tulsi, though this one was hammered into shape over her very own anvil). You take him out for his first drink at the tavern to celebrate his birthday; it feels like it was just yesterday he was a mangy little kitten sneaking in and out of your shop.
You try to nudge Tulsi towards getting outside her workshop a little more often, make some friends, but she insists she prefers the heat of the forge, unless Sage drags her out for an impromptu fishing and grilling trip with Balsam or another drink at the tavern. She always complains to you about how, more often than not, he's just trying to send her off on a blind date she didn't ask for.
Sage, on the other hand, seems to have grown into quite the party animal. He disappears for longer amounts of time, comes back looking more beat up than before (yet his grin never leaves his face), crashes on your floor (or Tulsi's couch) blackout-drunk more often, and speaks of a certain Lucan like he's the best thing to exist ever since fish-shaped pastries were invented.
"They're good people," he tells you about Lucan and the Griefers. "You don't have to worry so much."
iv.
You think the persistent banging at your door is a customer who missed the very obvious 'CLOSED' sign outside (a somewhat frequent occurrence ever since you moved business indoors after the Lord of Shadows' undead soldiers infiltrated the city), but it's Tulsi, shaking like a leaf in a storm though the skies are clear tonight. You don't remember the last time you've seen her crying, let alone wailing so desperately.
"Sage, he's gone." She shows you a broken, bloodied sword—Zenith, the magical Relic that chose Sage upon joining the Starsworn. You distantly remember how smug he looked the day he was chosen, because apparently it pissed off some guy called Rime.
You gently pull the sword away from her trembling hands and put it aside, before holding her firmly by the shoulders. "What do you mean he's gone?"
"He came to my place and he— and he— oh, he looked terrible," Tulsi hiccups into the crook of her elbow. "There was so much blood and a big wound in his chest! And he— he dropped this," she sniffles, and points at the sword, "then he disappeared. I looked for him everywhere."
You can clearly tell she ran around the town at least twice by the way her windswept hair stands every which way and her legs shake from the strain. Every morbid possibility runs through your mind all at once; you've heard this story before—people who disappear for a while before coming back and quietly blending back in with the crowds, seemingly unharmed; a miracle, they called it. It isn't too long before they start maiming people left and right; these are the undead soldiers of the evil necromancer—innocent civilians killed at his hands then brought back to do his bidding.
Fear swells in your heart until it tries to break out of your chest but fuck, someone has got to keep it together, so you hold Tulsi tightly and run your hand through her unruly hair until she can catch her breath. "He'll be fine. Sage always bounces back; you said it yourself!"
"This time... I don't know."
The best gossip and juiciest rumors are found amongst the vendors still populating the shopping district, going out to sell their wares despite the approaching war. That's where you start looking, and that's where you first hear it: whispers about the Griefers hunting down the traitor who killed their leader in cold blood. Those who were once beacons of safety in Porrima, holding down the fort when the knights got too busy with war efforts, are now more like rabid dogs terrorizing the streets in the name of the Lord of Shadows. Sage is nowhere amongst their ranks—that's what Balsam says when he finds you before you could find him.
He'd accosted Tulsi like a raging boar just as she was leaving your place, eyes bloodshot and hair clinging to his face with sweat, looking nothing like the loud but sweet boy you'd always see following Sage around town. There's a mild tremor in his hands as he digs his fingers into Tulsi's arms, and it takes her breaking down into tears for Balsam to believe that you're not secretly hiding Sage nor do you know where he ran off to; she swears up and down that Sage didn't tell her anything about what happened before he left Zenith.
All falls silent when Balsam lets you know Sage is indeed the traitor they've been hunting down. As if it's any consolation, he reassures you that he won't let the other Griefers come after you, and spares Tulsi one last apologetic glance before disappearing into the night.
You've assumed Sage would leave the Griefers once he joined the Starsworn, conflict of interest and all, but to straight up kill their leader in cold blood? Perhaps Sage has a shady past; perhaps he'd done unsavory things he wouldn't dare speak of, but you've always known, deep down, he's a good kid. He's your kid. Everything he does, he does to protect the people he loves. In what realm of possibility could he kill the one man he practically idolized?
You and Tulsi stand there in silence; for how long, you do not know. A cold breeze sends a shiver down your spine before you remember to shut the door Balsam left open. A thousand unspoken questions weigh down the air between you, but as you meet Tulsi's eyes, you realize one thing's for sure, there has to be a good explanation.
Only Sage can provide that explanation... or perhaps the people he pledged loyalty to. You turn to the Starsworn, who had declared they are marching to Mournfall for the final showdown against the Lord of Shadows. Sage is nowhere amongst their ranks—that's what Anisa confirms cold and curt before marching off, her grip painfully tight on her sword's hilt.
Once upon a time you'd hoped joining the Starsworn would straighten Sage out, or at least encourage him to spend less time getting into pointless fights and passing out drunk in the sewers. Now he's accused of murdering the one man whose praises Sage sang at every chance, considered a traitor by both parties he once claimed loyalty to, and is nowhere to be found—dead or on the run, nobody knows.
What games have you been playing, Sage? What did you get yourself into? You silently call out to the stars as you walk the line between sea and shore, but no one answers. You go out to the beach more often these days, especially after the sun sets and night drapes the city in a dark speckled blanket. Sage loved hanging around here at this time. In a rare, quiet moment of vulnerability, he once confessed to you how the loneliness of an abandoned beach always brought him peace whenever the world became too overwhelming. There's no worries here, only himself, the relentless crashing waves, and the moon and stars above
You find yourself hoping that in this time of turmoil, the beach will draw Sage back in again, and you'll catch a glimpse of him laid out on the sand for a moment's peace before he runs off again. Every time your excursion lets you down, you soothe yourself with the thought that maybe he's watching over you from where you can't see him. 'I'm staying away to protect you,' you can imagine Sage saying. You can't wait to find him so you can give his ear one big painful tug and a piece of your mind.
Tulsi always complains about how you shouldn't go out alone in the dark, let alone as far as the beach—your search is futile and it's not worth risking your life over. As far as she's concerned, her brother has already died. She says it's fine, really, she's getting over it, but she almost never parts with the forge, throwing herself into her work and visiting you less often.
You still bake the fish-shaped pastries Sage so loved; you count how many you've made in the morning, and you keep count of how many you sell throughout the day. You still wait for the day one or two pastries will go missing, maybe three or more if a certain mangy cat is feeling particularly greedy.
98 notes · View notes
diamo-chan · 1 year
Text
I want more OCs stuck in the timeskip camp on Sage's route.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Shaquille is found by sunstone allies in one of their client's residences. They'd help out with setting the camp, teachinc the community defensive magic and ways to preserve foods, showing Tulsi how to keep a fire hot enough for blacksmithwork. Life was far from the comfort they were used to. When they weren't whining about the situation, they were drinking their problems away. I also picture them discussing vairi courting methods with Elowen, supportive of the prospect of her supporting Annie & having her back during missions.
Tumblr media
They knew from Tulsi, that Sage was still alive. Thankfully their mark kept their magic in check, when Sage quietly sneaks in with MC in tow.
Upon Rime's arrival however, all their anger of the years since mournfall unload. How could he just show up like "I was dead, then I was evil, now I'm back as an ally" ... not that they could do much damage without magic, in a fight against someone like Rime of all people.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
This'll be added to, over time...
54 notes · View notes