Come away, O human child!

“DEAR SIR, 

I am sending the two fairy pictures ; they are interesting, are they not?“

Dual blog for fandomless OCs James Pollard and Muriel. Heavily based in fantasy and folklore. 

Independent | Multiverse | Medium activity

James || Muriel || Verses || Rules || Carrd

[[ Well hello! Surgery went really well! I'm still in recovery, but I'm hopeful about a lot of things right now and itching to get back to my blog. Don't mind me while I get to dusting things off around here. :) Going to be updating my pages, theme, and just about everything else.

If you've stuck around with me this long, I can't tell you how much I appreciate you. :) I've been writing James since 2017- and I don't quite plan on stopping just yet. After the holidays, I'm going to go ahead and do a full blog refresh with new threads, new info, and even a couple of new characters! My hope is to bring in the new year with the spirit of creativity in mind.

There is not a creature alive that could possibly blame him when Muriel's hands find their way up to grasp Niamh's lovely backside. Not a single goddamn one.

"Good boy." ⛓️❤️⛓️

James’ answer seems to be enough to soothe Crowley’s mounting paranoia and demon nods along with the words, showing his approval. After the accidental encounter with a blessed object he has just had, he is ready to not have to deal with anything of the sort at least for the rest of the year.

“Better that way. Far from me to generalise, but most of those so called men of faith? They are definitely not the saints they want people to believe they are,” he claims, not without a hint of distaste. He doesn’t care that James might deduce that he has a dislike for the clergy and for religion in general. Atheist are a thing, after all. “You should consider yourself lucky, being allowed to live your life without ever being bothered by them.”

Someone could argue that he, as a demon, is biased, and for obvious reasons. Crowley himself knows that it’s true and he won’t waste time denying it, but his antipathy is born more out of his personal experience with said men of faith than from his personal prejudices.

His companion chooses that moment to speak up once again, preventing him from starting to rant on the subject. As frustrating as it feels, it’s probably for the best. The Serpent is aware of his tendency to slip in a little too much information when he runs his mouth, and he has already made too many missteps that morning.

“Yeah, well…Of course. I might come off as a bloody jerk at times, but I am one only with the people who ask for it,” he replies in a more casual tone, following the words with a shrug. He distractedly realises that the road they are on is familiar. They must be close to the shoppe. And that’s good news, because the longer they wait, the more his burns will heal and he wouldn’t know how to explain that to James.

His expression, however, quickly becomes darker and distant, as his mind travels back in time, towards events that have taken place centuries before.

“I can respect a curious mind, even if…At times asking questions can lead you to your death sentence. Literally or metaphorically. It makes you wonder if they are worth the trouble or not, don’t you think?”

His voice is so quiet towards the end that his companion is probably forced to strain his ears to be able to hear his words. The gloomy shadow that has fallen on the demon, however, is gone as quickly as it has appeared as the building where James’ shop is comes into view.

“Home, sweet home!” Crowley exclaims, with renewed energy, as he speeds up his steps, forcing the other to do the same. “Finally! Let’s make this quick, I have unfinished business to take care of.”

Catching the tone in Crowley's voice, James looks up with a concerned furrow in his brow. Even only just getting to know the fellow, James had assumed that the fellow's proclivity towards independence would naturally include flagrantly questioning authority. However there is something in the way he talks about it that suggests there is a painful past there. Perhaps some consequence to his own curiosity.

Of course this is all only speculation. At the end of the day James hardly knows Crowley at all- which is strange because he feels quite comfortable around him. Though he likes people, James often feels like he has to think awfully hard about what he's saying around them. There are so many things he still doesn't understand in his limited time of being an official part of society, and people are far less inclined to be understanding with someone of his age about it. James isn't bitter about it- but he wonders now if he and Crowley might have more in common than he'd thought.

That notion might have evolved even further if it were not for Crowley suddenly propelling them forward. With a soft yelp James finds himself running to keep up, and he's out of breath from keeping up with Crowley's long legs by the time they make it to the door. He takes a moment to fumble for his key- shocked out of daydreams and back into the present- and chuckles dazedly as he gets the old heavy door open.

"Goodness, it sounds like that wound might be more painful than you've let on, Mr. Crowley! But not to worry, I've got all sorts of good poultices for burns..."

James doesn't pause to take off his coat. Rather, he gestures his new friend towards a chair and goes straight for one of the cabinets, where he pulls out a blood red pot. His next stop is to fill a metal basin of wire and grab some gauze.

Her eyes couldn’t help but follow the motion of his arms as he reached for her basket, grabbing a few berries and popping them in his mouth. At his question, she jolted, realizing he’d gotten even closer to her.

A trade. With a faye? 

Giving him something had been bad enough. But an exchange? That sounded worse, right? She blinked too quickly, eyes quickly darting to the basket of fruits to avoid his glance. What sort of things did she desire? 

No. No, she couldn’t reply to that. She couldn’t trust him! Her father had warned her, and yet she had not listened to his words! Now, she was certainly in trouble. 

Just watching her, James can tell that this lass is wise. The others of his kind have spoken extensively of humans and their greed- how easy they are to manipulate. Some do it for a laugh and some do it to teach a cruel lesson. James isn't so certain yet what he wants, but what he does know is he doesn't have the heart to bring harm to this lass. If anything, this interaction alone is entertainment enough.

Sneakily James plucks up another berry as the girl thinks, and she does look a mite concerned now. Maybe she's heard stories of the not so friendly Fey. Truthfully, it would be unwise of her to trust him. Though he may not be the bloodthirsty sort, it's never a good idea to start thinking you can just walk up to a Fey and start haggling with them.