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sasster · 6 months

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Made It Out Alive

So there I was, on the train ride home from class, and I thought.. Man. I’m gonna write something really indulgent. Hope you guys like it as much as I do! [Doc] —

Turning from the stove to the counter, with a knife and cutting board in hand, Lopard comes face to face with a jade blooded nuisance who smiles back at him from his seated position upon it.

The orange blood rolls his eyes.

“Get your ass off of my counter if you want to keep it.” He warns, waving the knife in the air for emphasis.

“Two problems with that, chief,” the nuisance starts, despite jumping off the counter with an ‘oof’ when his feet hit the ground. “S’not your counter and that’s a stupid threat.”

Once again Lopard rolls his eyes, but happy that there would no longer be an ass where he plans to chop vegetables, he carries on his prepwork.

“I’m sure Areios doesn’t want your ass on his counter either. Make yourself useful and—”

Before the command even leaves his mouth, Demuye is already behind him setting some pots to boil and pulling seasonings from cabinets.

“Yeah, yeah, on it boss man.” He says with a smile he doesn’t bother fighting.

Just as the pair are getting into the groove of cooking together, the owner of the hive paces his way into the kitchen with large, frantic steps that would shake the foundation of a less secure building, worrying the front of his shirt between two very anxious hands. Lopard barely gets to open his mouth before his much smaller “babysitter” comes toddling in behind him, on legs much too short to keep up with the exaggerated gait of the behemoth.

Thuein pauses to catch his breath, resting both hands on his thighs as he heaves.

“Running a marathon?” Demuye questions with ill-contained humor, only to receive a sharp look from the therapist in response.

Areios paces his way to the far end of the kitchen and stares at the undecorated stone for several seconds as silence overtakes the kitchen. His three guests exchange worried glances with each other.

Slowly, unable to be serious for too long, Demuye raises a hand and presses his index finger to the tip of his nose.

Thuein copies the motion.

For the third time in such a short stretch, Lopard finds himself rolling his eyes.

“Alright big guy,” He says as he wipes his hands clean on a dish towel. “What’s eating at you so bad that our best and brightest can’t help you keep it together?”

Truthfully, his annoyance with Demuye and Thuein doesn’t last long. It is barely a fizzle before it dies out on its own, really. As the oldest of this portion of their inner circle, he’d been used to wrangling everyone in for some time now. A part of him thrives on it, if he had to be honest with himself.

Areios lets his shoulders slump forward, too prideful maybe to face his friends as he speaks. “Do you think he’s actually going to come?” He finally asks, after his own silence becomes too much for even him to stand.

Once again the three exchange looks that the behemoth can’t see. Demuye seems annoyed at the notion, indicated by him sucking his teeth, Thuein only frowns, and Lopard lets out a resigned sigh.

“I don’t think he’d lie about something like that.”

Areios inhales sharply and exhales in a way that suggests he wishes, right now at least, that he was smaller than he is.

“What if he gets here and realizes he hates me as much as--”

“Ah,” Lopard interjects, holding up a hand that the other party cannot see but heeds regardless. “I’m not entertaining that sort of talk. He’s going to come and we’re going to have a great time. Just like we always do.”

The orange blood crosses the kitchen and pats Areios on the back.

“I’d beat his ass otherwise.” He offers and gets a laugh out of the purple blood.

“Imagine the emotional toll that’d take on you.”

“Smashing those guys is like second nature to me. Now get out before I put the pair of you to work.”

Demuye emphasizes Lopard’s point by slamming a pot onto the counter and Areios laughs again, putting up both hands, as he and Thuein leave the way they came.

Thuein mouths a ‘thank you’ to Lopard on the way out.

“We really don’t pay you enough.” Bemoans a more than humored Demuye, shaking his head, while Lopard returns to his post.

“Yeah, I’ll have to garnish it from somewhere.”

“If you touch my check, and I mean this so seriously, I’ll skin you.”

—

Later the hive is alive with chatter, the way it used to be when Areios housed most or all of the current guests in their respective times of need. The intoxicating bouquet of Lopard’s cooking carries from the kitchen to the large front room that most of the trolls occupied.

His chest swells with pride each time someone so much as compliments the smell of the goods. It is nice knowing that his hard work is appreciated, after all. Soon the smell will be overshadowed by someone else's, probably Achina’s, baking skills. But for now, the pride was all his.

Lopard plops, exhausted, on a couch between the host and a violet blooded sailor who the pair have not seen in countless sweeps, waving a three fingers hand around as he exposits what’d happened to him in those sweeps.

“It hasn’t been all that crazy,” Velrum concludes, shrugging his shoulders in a nonchalant manner that suggests he was merely describing a shopping trip and not a literal odyssey. “I was on the sea. That’s where I came from, so it wasn’t awful.” He lets his good fin flair for emphasis.

Lanaen, seated in a chair across from them, scoffs.

“Were your more stuck-up personality traits concussed out of you, then?”

“Quite possibly. And yours?”

“Oh, no. He’s still very much a dick.” Lopard chimes in before Lanaen can defend himself, and the four of them enjoy a good laugh at the fuchsia’s expense.

It has always been too long since the last time they gathered everyone together like this and the hive itself is practically a flutter with it’s own life.

Lopard chances a glance to a corner of the living room occupied by Zurven, of all people, signing away in a conversation with Isnons who appears to have turned off his hearing aid for the evening.

Each of the pair jumped at the chance when they heard that the other would definitely be in attendance, masterful trickery executed by Thuein and Achina, who were convinced neither would come otherwise.

From what he can make out from his bout of eavesdropping Isnons just wrote his first book and Zurven’s gotta get his hands on it.

He smiles to himself, satisfied that he would not have to field any angry partners for a botched night out. He hardly notices when Velrum and Lanaen leave the room, absorbed in yet another conversation.

This one possibly about the former’s missing fingers.

“See, we’re having fun.” Lopard nudges a shoulder up against Areios as he speaks. “Regardless.”

“Yeah. It’s always nice having everyone back together. Makes the hive feel less lonely.”

“I think that’s called empty nest syndrome.”

“Look at me, your sad mama bird.”

Lopard only laughs and nudges him again.

Very suddenly, Holoth appears in their space, beaming despite the way sleepiness decorates her features.

“Does that mean I can call you mommy?” She inquires, brightly.

“Please don’t.”

“C’mon guys, I brought something you need to see.” She quickly pivots, seizing Areios by the arm and giving him a tug that actually pulls him to his feet.

Nonplussed, he follows her lead with Lopard bringing up the rear.

Holoth leads the two of them outside, away from the excitement of the hive and closer to the cliff that overlooks the sea. It does not take long for Lopard to recognize the form of a troll pacing back and forth at the end of it, but he is certain that Areios cannot make it out, what with his deteriorating eyesight and all.

He turns his surprise on Holoth who only winks back at him. Then she trudges forward with the giant in tow until he and the pacing figure stop short, staring at each other.

Briefly, Lopard thinks that it was very wise of her to not bring him inside for this reunion. He would never tell her the thought, lest everyone have to reckon with her ego for the foreseeable future.

She gives Areios a shove and he continues the rest of the way on his own, where he and the newcomer continue to stare at each other in stunned silence.

What must be running through their heads right now?

“Areios, I’m so sorry I--”

The full apology dies in the doctor’s throat when Areios, unable to contain himself, wraps him up in his arms and crushes him into his chest.

“I missed you so much, Aelium.”

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trashyswitch · 4 months

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Sly and the gang in: Laughing Liar

The Cooper Gang barely make it back to their secret hideout with an ancient artifact. Bentley tries to reprimand Sly for goofing off, but can't get through to him. So Bentley must resort to using his wheelchair arms, and a little childish knowledge, to get Sly to listen.

This fanfic is for Velrum. We have been through hell and back, but through it all...I'm thankful to have such a strong, patient saint as a close friend. He was with me through the biggest surgery thus far...and I couldn't be more grateful. <3

After a long heist, Sly Cooper and his gang of thieves had made it back to their hideout, exhausted but proud of themselves. They had successfully stolen a priceless artifact worth so much money. Though, money was never their reason for stealing such an artifact. The fact is, the artifact was in the hands of some other thieves, who failed to keep their eye on it for only a minute or two. They swiped it from under their noses, and now it was free to be added to the Cooper family vault.

“Whew, Carmelita really didn’t hold back tonight…” Sly muttered, tossing the artifact a few feet away from him haphazardly.

“You said it, Sly. I think it’s time for a good ol’ Murray Power Nap.” Murray said, before sitting on the edge of the couch.

Bentley made his wheelchair arms catch the artifact mere moments before it hit the ground. “I told you not to poke the bear!” Bentley reacted, lifting it up and putting it into his actual green hands. “Well…poke the fox, in this instance.” He corrected himself. “And don’t go around throwing the things we just busted our tails to get!” He held up the artifact. “It’s a priceless artifact, likely centuries old!” He told him, looking it over.

“You pawing it up isn’t exactly helping your case, Bentley.” Sly mentioned, taking the artifact from him and dusting it off.

“And you pawing it up is any better?” Bentley muttered.

Sly put it on the table, and dusted off his shoulder. “I’d say that was a successful heist, if I do say so myself.” He declared.

“You didn’t exactly make it easy, Sly.” Bentley mentioned. “You flirting with Carmelita and dancing with the guards when we should’ve been fleeing, almost made the whole mission go up in flames.”

Sly scoffed. “Oh please, we were fine. It worked, didn’t it?”

Bentley frowned. “Barely.” he muttered.

Sly sighed. “Hey Murray! Back me up, here.” He said.

Bentley snickered a bit when he saw Murray still sitting up on the edge of the bed, but sound asleep. “He’s a little…preoccupied.” He told him.

Sly looked at Murray, and sighed. He walked up, and gently pushed Murray onto the couch. He flopped his head and body onto the couch, completely unphased. “I could tell Murray “I trust you with my life”, and he’d be sleeping just like this.” Sly muttered out loud.

“Since Murray’s too busy to back you up, are you willing to accept that you’re wrong, and that you overdid it this time?” Bentley asked.

“No way! We were perfectly fine.” Sly replied.

“Are you sure?” Bentley asked. “All you have to do is admit that you were wrong and overdid it. That’s it.” Bentley told him.

Sly poked Bentley with the top of his hook. “Not happening, Bentley.” He responded.

Bentley smirked and looked down at his wheelchair. Unbeknownst to Sly, Bentley had installed a little button under a flap on his wheelchair armrest. He opened the flap on his armrest, and moved his finger towards the button. “You leave me no choice.” He said, before slamming his fist onto the button.

His robot arms popped out of the back of his wheelchair, and picked up Sly by his waist. “HeyhEYHEY! BENTLEY-” Sly yelped as the robot arms squeezed his waist again.

“Sly, shhh.” Bentley warned as he pointed to Murray. “He’s still sleeping.” He told him.

Sly looked at Murray, and softened his expression. He would hate to wake Murray up after all he did for them. So, he tried to keep his voice down. “Bentley, what is this?” He whisper-yelled.

Bentley smirked and rolled himself closer to Sly. “Just a little thing I added to my wheelchair recently.” He admitted, pointing to the red button with the white feather on it. Sly’s eyes widened as he quickly noticed the feather.

Was that what he thought it was?!

Was that…a tickle button?!

“Any last words?” Bentley asked as he readied his finger over another button.

Sly rolled his eyes. “As if tickling me is gonna do anything…” He muttered aloud, crossing his arms.

Bentley smirked and pressed the button. And right as the robot arms started continuously squeezing his hips, Sly yelped. “BaHAHAHA!” He bursted out cackling.

Bentley clicked the button again to stop the tickles. “Sly, you have to be quiet.” Bentley told him.

Sly covered his snout with his paws. “S-Sorry Murray-” Sly mumbled.

Bentley fixed his glasses and moved the robot arms to his armpits with his mind. “Perhaps your underarms would be a better option…” He said, before clicking the ‘go’ button.

Sly gasped and squeezed his arms against his middle, attempting to stop the robot fingers as they aggressively attacked his armpits. He kicked his feet and wagged his tail helplessly as he tried so hard not to laugh. But tiny little titters were still leaving his mouth against his will. “I-’m…g-gonnabreakyourwheelchair-!” He spat through his teeth.

“I’d like to see you try. My wheelchair is virtually indestructible.” He declared proudly.

“Sh-Shut up!” Sly ordered.

“You are allowed to laugh. But you are not allowed to laugh too loudly, or we risk waking up Murray.” Bentley told him.

Sly bit his lip and let out some giggles to save his tired lungs. “Hehehehehehe! Gohohohosh, yohohohou’re bruhutal.” He told him.

“Depends on your definition of brutal, Sly.” He teased, before clicking a little button on his wheelchair rest.

All of a sudden, one of the robot arms moved itself to his chin. Sly widened his eyes in surprise when the robot hand placed itself there, before narrowing his eyes at Bentley. “Don’t you dare.” He ordered.

“What’s wrong, Sly? Too embarrassed about this little ticklish spot?” Bentley asked with a little smirk on his face.

“Of course I am! You know this!” Sly fought back.

“But it’s so hard to resist not tickling it.” Bentley told him.

“Well, resist, dude! It’s just a button!” Sly ordered.

Bentley looked at the button, and smirked a slight bit more. “Well, now I don’t want to.” He told him as he pressed the button. Almost immediately, the robot hand started tickling gently under his chin.

Sly jumped and flicked his ears, surprised by the feeling. It was so strange being tickled by robot fingers rather than paws. They were cold, which made his chin slightly more sensitive. “aaAAAH-” He yelped, curling his neck in. “Waitnohohooo!” He reacted as quietly as he could, dropping his guard slightly.

Bentley smirked. “Ticklish chin, Sly?” He teased. “Or as Carmelita would call you: ‘Ringtail’?” He said in a higher-pitched voice in an attempt to mock Carmelita and her voice.

“Shuhuhut uhuhup!” Sly reacted.

“I’d rather not…We all know you like her.” Bentley joked.

If Sly was capable of it, he probably would’ve blushed from that response alone.

Bentley knew this, and just couldn’t stop himself from chuckling at him. He felt almost lucky that Sly wasn’t afraid to be soft around them. He always kept up a front whenever he interacted with Carmelita, or anyone else they were usually up against. But Bentley could tell that Sly was mostly comfortable being teased and babied by them.

“Now, if I remember correctly:” Bentley picked up Sly with his robot arms and brought him closer.

“Bentley- Bentley, don’t-!” He reacted, But Sly was thrown off guard the moment he was promptly plopped into Bentley’s lap. “Wh-wha-”

And as if it couldn’t get embarrassing enough, Bentley started tickling his chin and jawline with his own, green fingers. “There’s a specific spot on your chin.” He moved his fingers around, keeping an eye out for a reaction. “That if I tickle hard enough, you’ll start chittering.” Bentley mentioned.

He fluttered his fingers on the edge of the chin, but had no success. He tried the right side of his chin, but found no success. But when his fingers fell on the left side of his chin…THAT was when he started purring.

Bentley gasped slightly and smirked evilly. “Found it~” He teased.

“NonoOHNO-” Sly squeaked and started letting out the very chittering sound that Bentley was talking about.

“Theeere it is.” Bentley teased, smiling brightly as he heard the iconic Sly sound. The chittering sound was quite similar to purring, yet it was mixed with high-pitched whimpering as well. It was a genuine happy sound that only Sly was capable of making. Or, so they believed.

He squeaked and chittered, whimpered and purred. The sounds would be absolutely devastating to show off if it had been literally anyone else in the room. But when it was just his friends, he felt a small bit better. And though he was shaking and wiggling, Bentley seemed to have an amazing grip on him. For a turtle nerd, he was unbelievably strong. Maybe his arms were making up for the lack of strength in his legs? And perhaps he was using his newfound strength to hold Sly down? That had to be it!

“Goodness, you’re squirmy when you’re being tickled.” Bentley reacted.

“Need help with holding him?” Someone said nearby.

Bentley looked up, and adjusted his glasses. “Oh! Murray, I didn’t see you get up.” Bentley admitted.

Sly gasped and looked at Murray with fear. Oh NO! “I didn’t wake you up, did I?” Sly asked.

“Nope. I woke up on my own. But I did wake up to you making those funny sounds again.” Murray admitted.

Though he probably would’ve felt relaxed by the thought of not waking him up, he still could feel the embarrassment hitting him like a huge wave crashing into a building.

“So how did you make him make that sound?” Murray asked.

“I’m glad you asked!” Bentley declared.

At that moment, Sly knew he was screwed. Bentley was literally going to teach Murray how to make him purr?! Does he even have a choice in whether it doesn’t happen or not?

“So the sound is called ‘chittering’. You scratch right about here…” Bentley scratched in the same left spot of his chin, and smirked when Sly started chittering and purring. “And he starts making that sound.” Bentley told him.

Murray chuckled. “Well, will you look at that…” he muttered curiously.

“Sometimes the sounds change, but he mostly chitters and purrs.” Bentley jumped when Sly squeaked suddenly. “-Though he does screech like a hyena occasionally.” Bentley teased.

“Can I try next?” Murray asked.

Bentley smiled. “You can try now, if you want.” Bentley told him, letting him go the moment Murray got a good hold on him.

Murray picked up Sly under his arms and scratched gently right against the left chin. “Right about here?” He asked.

Sly squeaked and yelped right away, chittering almost right away. Bentley’s nails were smaller and more precise, but Murray’s nails were bigger and covered more ground! Which one was worse? He couldn’t say. He just wasn’t expecting such big nails digging at that spot.

“Ooooh! This is awesome!” Murray reacted, picking up the pace.

“aaAAAHAHAHAHAHAAA!” Sly cackled, before falling into another fit of chitters.

“This is hilarious! Does it get louder if I tickle harder?” Murray asked.

Sly jumped and shrieked as the nails dug deeper into his chin. As it would turn out, the chittering did get louder! Though that wasn’t without consequences. Sly found that the stronger tickles on his chin didn’t really feel good anymore…it actually kinda hurt him more than anything. “STAHAP! PLEHEHEASE STOHOHOP! Stopstopithurts!” He yelled, pushing his hand away.

Murray quickly paused his hand and looked at him from the side. “Sorry, Sly. Was that too hard?” He asked, visibly worried.

Sly nodded his head a bit. “Y…Yeah.” He admitted.

“Okay. I’ll be gentle.” Murray told him before lessening his stronger tickles to the softer fluttering he provided earlier. He made sure he was staying on the left side of the chin, only occasionally moving to the middle when he wanted to give Sly a Murray break. “How’s this?” Murray asked, looking at Sly curiously as he resumed tickling him in the designated spot.

Sly squawked almost like a bird at first, and started chittering and purring all over again. And the best part? It didn’t hurt at all anymore! It actually felt like a massage on his favorite spot. The breaks were really considerate of him, and they actually made the massages feel extra enjoyable as a result. And to make things even more funny, Sly had started to enjoy it so much that his tail started wagging! It was just like he was that little kit from the orphanage again!

“Hey Bentley! I think I feel something fluffy moving against me!” Murray reacted.

“Is it his tail?” Bentley asked.

Murray chuckled. “I think so.” He replied. “He’s wagging his tail really hard!” Murray reacted.

“Awww, that’s cute. It means he’s enjoying it.” Bentley told him.

“Ihihit seems lihike it.” Murray admitted.

Bentley titled his head slightly, confused.

Murray couldn’t stop the big grin that filled his face. “Ihihit feeheeheels fuhuhunnyhy.” He admitted.

Bentley smirked as it finally clicked. “What feels funny, Murray?” He asked.

“Hihihis tahail ihis-” Murray moved his tickling hand to his mouth to cover up his laughter a little bit. “Ihihit’s tihickling mehehehehe!” Murray admitted, unsure whether to let go of Sly or keep holding onto him.

When the scratches had stopped, Sly had temporarily stopped his wagging. But hearing Murray’s reactions, Sly kept up the wagging just so he could tickle Murray longer. “Ihi forgot your belly was this ticklish.” He admitted.

Bentley chuckled a bit and adjusted his glasses as he saw Murray struggling, but laughing. “Do you want me to take him?” He asked.

“Noho no, Ihihihi’m gohohood.” He admitted before tickling Sly’s belly. “Hehe’s ticklish ohon hihis behehelly tohohoo.” Murray said.

Sly threw his head back and laughed, wiggling around and wagging his tail, keeping the cycle of tickles going. “HAhahahaha! Behehehentley, hehehehelp!” He called.

“Nah…” Bentley told him.

And though Sly and Murray looked to be having a lot of fun, Bentley was quite comfortable just watching the entire thing. Even if Sly didn’t really learn his lesson about admitting when he’s wrong, he knew Sly understood where he was coming from. And Sly was somewhat right: Though they were very close to getting caught, they managed to flee with a thousand-year-old artifact.

The truth is, they would be lost without each other. And this little moment…was one of many examples of the friendship they have successfully developed over their lifetime. And nothing in the world will change their unbreakable relationship.

[Sly and the gang in: Laughing Liar, END]

#friendships #orphans #cute #funny #post-sly 2: band of thieves #pre-sly 3: honor among thieves #ticklefic #ler!bentley #switch!murray #switch!sly #chitters and purrs

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pyrotrolls · 4 years

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@sasster

Your name is VELRUM and you’re not Himbo’s troll. You’re Sasster’s troll. But Himbotrolls loves you very much.

(I jacked the PDF files from GTA 5 Online’s tattoos to overlay because fuck you and I draw for fun not to painstakingly draw tattoos lmaaaao but still wanted to disclaim that)

#pyro talks #sasster #velrum #my art

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sasster · 1 year

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Wisdom

[Google Doc]

You know the song Words of the Wise by Truslow, don't you?

The Sailor

The night is cool, with an ocean breeze that rushes toward the dock and welcomes Zurven with a sweet, salty kiss. As far back as he remembers, the sea has always been a welcome escape. It carried his fears away on billowing waves, where they disappeared into a distant horizon, and he was allowed respite from his vanilla scented tomb. Even just for a second. That was the single perk to his time with Persep, a thought he will take to his grave whispers, access to Areios’s cliffside hive.

Before he has much time to think on and be upset by it, the dock creaks under the weight of someone walking behind him and he turns to meet their gaze. A troll that was at the same time familiar and entirely new to him fills his field of view. His hair was much shorter when he disappeared, cut tight in order to maintain a proper appearance just like any other pretentious violet blood might have it. Today, it casts down past his shoulders, in waves that resemble the ones he spends his nights navigating.

Shock overtakes the seadwellers features, but it is quickly replaced by a smile that accentuates the scars that pepper his face.

That’s another change, imperfections decorate the violet blood in a map that tells the story of where he has been. Of who he is now. A fractured horn and torn ear and fin. This is not the Velrum that disappeared all of those sweeps ago.

Zurven should be surprised, but he knew what to expect. Harlan’s intervention made sure of it.

Velrum waves a three fingered hand as he comes closer, and he tries not to let his stare linger. But the gold band around the middle digit draws the eye with the way the twin moons shine off of it. The seadweller does not seem bothered.

“Zurven, is that you?” Even his voice doesn’t ring with the same uptight, strictness that it did in the past. Instead, it seems light. Free of burden. He comes to sit and lets one of his legs dangle over the sea below.

Though neither of their feet touch the water, Zurven cannot help but notice how much further his own is away from it.

“Wow, how long has it been?”

The smaller troll makes like he is looking at a watch that isn’t there and shrugs.

Velrum laughs.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m glad to see you..” He pauses to get a good look at him. “Out. Away from all of that.”

The sailor sounds unsure as he speaks, each of the six words enunciated slowly. Worry almost creases his brow.

A quick nod assuages his fear and he lets out a quick sigh.

“Good. It was a fucked up situation.”

“No kidding.” Zurven sighs. “How did you do it?”

“Hm?”

“Move on from everything.”

Velrum seems taken aback by the question. Anyone who knows anything about Zurven would guess that he would sooner swallow his tongue than choose to speak about this for longer than necessary. Even someone who hasn’t seen the brown blood since he was six sweeps old.

The seadweller runs a hand through his hair, knocking it so it cascades down along his back instead of over his shoulder. It frames his face in a way that makes him look much older than he is.

“Zurven,” he starts, moving to take one of his hands between both of his. The metal of his jewelry feels cool against the smaller troll’s skin. “Time is a weird thing.”

Zurven's laugh is breathless.

“Tell me about it.”

The response he receives is a squeeze, one designed to keep him grounded.

“Time and space are a wonderful tool. They will not heal all of your wounds. They can only provide you with the chance to come to terms with them.”

“That’s what people say. All the time, it’s what they say.”

“It’s hard as hell, Zurv.”

“Doable?”

“I didn’t say impossible, kid.”

Zurven swallows his uncertainty, not really sure what he was expecting to hear in the first place.

The Soldier

Koteus is much easier to track down, despite the claims that he is all but a hermit now. The seadweller lived in the same hive, surrounded by dense forest and an expansive lake from the time he was discharged from the fleet. What is surprising, however, is the sprawling garden that hugs around a considerable length of the hive, and the lively sheet moss that grows up the wall that the hive shares with the garden.

It is a sight to behold.

Certainly not one anyone would expect a so-called shut in to keep up with. Zurven sucks in a deep breath, admiring the warmth of the garden as it brings him to life.

“Hey kid, y’lost or somethin’?” Calls out a yellow blood from the front door, he waves a robotic hand in the air to get his attention.

The brown blood blinks back at him, kicking himself internally for neglecting to account for hivemates when setting out for this trip.

“I’m just here to see Koteus.” He finally says, when the silence blankets them the same way the moss did the residence. “It’s been a while.”

“‘Course you are,” The stranger starts, then pauses to look at a display on his arm. Finally, he motions for him to follow him as he moves back into the hive. “C’mon.”

Zurven nods and toddles along after him.

The yellow blood leads him through a front room and a living room first, where he takes in all the sights the home has to offer. The most important thing he could note was that there were family pictures littered throughout the two rooms. All sorts of faces smiled back at him, with each other, as the pair made their way into a kitchen much larger than he would know what to do with.

“Little man!” A familiar voice calls out and draws his attention to an island at its center.

Standing there beside it is Koteus, a bright smile on his face and a curtain of dreads that threaten to kiss the floor despite much of it being tied up into a bun. The tattoo on his face obscures much of his expression, but it is easy to tell he is happy.

“Little is right.” The cyborg emphasizes as he exits the way they entered.

Zurven can’t find it in him to be offended by the sentiment, he is easily the shortest person in the room. Aside from the very small human that sits on the counter, handing Koteus bowls of varying sizes with great enthusiasm.

She uses a free hand to wave at him.

“Jessie, Zurven. Zurven, Jessie.”

“Hi!” Jessie beams, pointing at Zurven and then her own chest. “Your sign?”

“Horologium.” He says pulling the hoodie he’d stolen from his partner tighter around his shoulders, suddenly incredibly self conscious. “It’s a clock.”

“Har-go-lum!” Jessie shouts as she clasps her hands together before getting back to her very serious job of handing the violet blood her bowls.

“Hawr-uh-lo-jee-um.” He says, slowly this time.

She nods with vigor and goes on to mouth the word Horologium to herself, going through the motions of learning a new difficult word.

He is momentarily taken back to a time when the name of his own sign was foreign to him. Five sweeps old when he learned what to call it, how to pronounce it. Thuein and Lopard were patient, but the pity they felt reigned in their eyes.

A human will learn how to say it better before she hits three sweeps.

Dwelling doesn’t last long, Koteus’s voice fills the room again and brings him back from his thoughts.

“Had I known you wanted to meet, I could have met you somewhere more convenient.” His voice is apologetic. “Middle of nowhere is a little out of the way, yeah?”

“I think I needed the trip.” He admits.

“Clear skies’ll cure a cluttered mind like nothing else.” The seadweller says as he lifts the young human off of the counter and sets her on her feet. “Something on your mind?”

“I think so. If you have time.”

Koteus watches as Jessie quickly finds her way to the entrance of the kitchen and disappears further into the hive. He smiles.

“A spot just opened up.”

Despite his time in the fleet, Koteus’s scars are not physical ones. The only markings on his skin are the tattoos he received from the planet he was stationed on. But the scars on his heart, Zurven thinks, must be innumerable. Impossible to count. Heavy.

He leads Zurven to the table and they sit across from each other.

Koteus looks wiser than he would ever care to admit. Always said wisdom means you’re old.

“Lay it on me, little man.”

“You’ve uh. You’ve been through a lot, right?”

“Nothing I didn’t sign up for.” He sighs. “But yeah.”

“Doesn’t it weigh a ton? How do you–”

“Carry it all?” He interjects, voice soft.

Zurven nods slowly.

The soldier leans forward, causing the beads clinging to his dreads to knock against the table between them.

“Not all at once, and never on my own.” He whispers, and the safety of Benjins hoodie starts to feel more real.

The Magician

There is a market in the city, filled with fresh produce from the grounds of the House of Restoration and other goods ferried from parts of Alternia the typical city dweller would never find the time to visit.

Zurven stands among the produce, fighting hard to remember the instructions given to him by Achina on how to pick out the perfect avocado. He is fairly certain the one in his hand is hard enough to give someone a concussion.

“Nah, brother. You try ‘n eat somethin’ that unripe it’ll knock your teeth right outta your skull.”

Zurvens gaze drifts from the rock in his hand to the observer he must have been preventing from getting one of his own.

“Think ya’ gotta put it in a paper bag to make it ripe faster or somethin’. Unless you’re tryin’a--“

The purple blood stops cold as they lock eyes, the recognition on either side is instantaneous. The swirly face paint that starts at the tip of his nose and spirals outward takes Zurven back to a place he doesn’t want to be and he gives the avocado a harsh squeeze. Hard as a baseball, it does not yield to his attempted mutilation.

“Shit! Little fuckin’, Curly top? Zurven? Damn! You grown up, huh?” The clown sputters out clumsily, measuring Zurven up with his hand as he does.

“Didn’t see you none once the. Well, y’know.” He says as he mimes a hand over his left eye, mimicking the trauma Persep subjected his illusionist friend to. “And you’re all out and about and shit, huh?”

“It’s nice to see you too, Parcae.” Zurven mumbles, resisting the urge that threatens to pull his thoughts back to the past. “You’re always so peppy, despite everything. That’s a real wonder to me-- “

The brown blood is cut off by the magician as he scoops him up into his arms and crushes him close against his chest.

Zurven goes stiff.

“Nah, we ain’t talkin’ about me. We’re talking about you!” He does not seem to care that the display is causing his suit jacket to wrinkle. Not that that really comes as a surprise. “Been thinkin’ about you, brother. Always wanted to scoop y’up like that and let ya know how you were always stronger than you shoulda had to be and shit.”

He says nothing.

“Y’know? I’m thinkin’ you’re one a the strongest guys I ever met. I’m thinkin’ you could survive anything, brother.”

Like the avocado in his hand will in a few days, Zurven softens. He wraps his arms around Parcae and breathes out a shaky sight as his tears start to stain the collar of his dress shirt.

#long post #zurven #velrum #koteus #parcae #rav and jessie are here too but that's irrelevant #coko writes sometimes #hey guys hi HEY GUYS HI

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sasster · 2 years

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hops up on a stool and shoves my arm down this mcfuckhuge box

|) does your curiosity know no end?

#velrum #8bit-mau5 #askter #omg hi velrum hiiiii

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sasster · 1 year

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zurven u seem pretty cavalier about everything thats happened. already leaving thorezille to go run abt. havin a lil memory tour. surprising to me

^i visited a man who lives in his own bubble out in the middle of nowhere and a small market in the closest city to where i live>

^also in the middle of nowhere>

^the only one that ran real risk was velrum, and i've been thinking about that one since the day we left that stupid church>

^i live in illioneus, not thorezille>

^and, finally, you want me to be scared of leaving my home for the rest of my life?>

#zurven #anonymous #askter

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sasster · 1 year

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What changed your mind about their antagonist vibes, Zurv? Did they do or say something in particular or were you just reflecting on it yourself?

^for what it's worth, i still think parcae is probably not a great guy>

^but, again, i've been in velrums head>

#zurven #dis-asterism #askter

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sasster · 1 year

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Zurven if they were “antagonists” what made you wanna go see them?

^how the hell can you guys know so much and so little at the same time?>

^your scope of the world is so... narrow... and broad. at the same time. how do you all do it?>

^i know a thing or two about a little window into peoples lives, but you guys are real special about it>

^anyway. we all thought velrum was dead, because that's what persep told us, because of harlan and the way he fucked my brain over three ways to sunday i've been more sensitive to having visions about people>

^so i saw a) he wasn't dead and b) he was a completely different person than i remembered. i wanted to see how he pulled off a radical change like that>

^i never had any issues with koteus i love that guy he's great but i was.. uhm>

^apprehensive to seeing him>

^for reasons i don't quite understand myself>

^and finally, if you must know, i wasn't seeking parcae out he bowled me over at a damn fruit stand>

#zurven #anonymous #askter

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sasster · 1 year

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Do you think going to see all those people from back then helped at all, Zurven? Or, maybe, was it just nice to see them all again in some way?

^nosy>

^how do you guys know everything all the time?>

^it was just nice to see them>

^i used to consider parcae and velrum antagonists in my life...>

^but i guess that was a shortsighted mindset to have>

#zurven #dis-asterism #askter

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pyrotrolls · 4 years

Photo

@sasster seffy is jumping up at him i just wasnt gonna draw feet if i didnt have to-

y’all ever just get excited to see ur dead matesprit who isnt dead, just ran off to be a pirate because he thought YOU were dead?

#pyro talks #sefalo #velrum #sasster #my art #also i needed more practice just letting my flat color be flat without going and trying to fully render it every time

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sasster · 4 years

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velrum, wherest the heckaroni have you been all these sweeps??????????????

>Velrum hasn’t been reintroduced yet! He’s kind of concerned that you find him at all. What do you want?

|) who’s asking?

#velrum #owo)/#himbotrolls #askter

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pyrotrolls · 3 years

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Sefalo meet Thrixe

@cloudbattrolls

Waves crash against the rocks with no mercy. The weight of the water threatened to knock the rocks from their already unstable tower, weathering them till they were smooth enough to crumble down and hit anyone unfortunate to to be under them. It wasn’t always like that- there was times where the moonlight was bright and the water was calm enough for lovers to have picnics at the base of the cliff. Now it seems like a storm was always ready to carry the history away, to hide the blood only visible to those who had shed it.

But Sefalo knew it was there.

Her head screamed as she dragged herself from the water up the rocky shore to stand where she would always stand. Memories flooding back to her, of falling into the water, the searing pain of a rock connecting to her temple, the confusion and loudness of trying to reach for a hand that wasn’t there.

“Velrum,” she whispered to the wind, but the waves drowned her voice. Her eyes narrowed to the spot she knew he had stood too, right before the rockslide happened. She half expected it to happen again, to confirm her fear.

Her gaze broke from the imaginary ghost, and drifted down to a puddle where she caught her reflection- if she could call it that. Moments like this were rare, the total clarity, the memory of who she could have been possessing her now. Her eyes were black, pupils shifting from bright icy colors like the single eye her Friend had. More noticeable was how they were leaking ink down like tears. Curiously, she squatted down to touch the puddle, but a tendril reached out to wrap around her fingers, blocking her from looking too hard at herself. When her mouth opened to protest, more ink expelled. As if she had released a valve or a dam. It could have fallen like mist, if she didn’t feel it drip from her teeth, her tongue, down her chin and through the fluttering of her gills as she tilted her head back and screamed.

The waves stopped, all movement in the water stopped, even her puddle didn’t bounce from the echo of her voice. She knew it made a noise though, could feel her vocal cords vibrate as her fingers tightened and those tendrils appeared from the still water. It snaked towards her, but stayed out of touch, just threateningly on the outskirts of her person as she pushed down against the air and kept screaming until more and more ink pooled out of every hole in her face, ears, and gills. Sefalo brought her hands up to her face, catching the ink through her fingers. As it fell between them, tendrils began to form like thick slime. She pulled her hands away and flicked it off, watching it hiss and react as it clung to her, starting to climb back through her hands, covering her up her arm until it stopped. Completely and entirely as her head snapped to the sound of rustling.

The ink crawled back into her gills, like liquid going down a drain. The waves started back up, and the ghostly tentacles collapsed into shadows of the rocks, dancing with the water’s reflection.

She tilted her head to meet the gaze of the guest, invader really... This was her spot, she lost herself here, she deserved privacy when she fought to regain it.

“Hello?” Her carefree, almost clueless voice came through, sounding friendly though it contrasted the way her eyes slowly returned to normal instead of black with ice blue pupils. “Someone there?” Even slower, it felt like her memories were fading again. Once again she was losing herself- thanks to this stranger. But even the anger was fading as the memory left her.

#sefalo #my writing #sefalo lore #cloudbattrolls #just a girl regaining her memories by evil squid magic <3

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