ཐི ( ᶠᶸᶜᵏ ᵧₒᵤ! ) ཋྀ ︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ⊱༒︎                  ❝ Did you eat a fucking Smurf ? ❞ He couldn't help but run up to get a better look --- and biting back his other remark about eating out Grimace. Now in the other's personal space, Aluin places his face really close and sniffs the unusual colored blood, extremely tempted to LICK him.

                      ❝ Can I TRY it -- ? It's not every day someone's offering free grape juice... or is it like poisoned or something? ❞

Zelda’s head snapped up so fast her braid nearly slapped her in the face. Her eyes went wide—affronted and darkening faintly like an offended sea—and her whole spine straightened with royal indignation.

How bad can it be?

She stared at Airin as though personally insulted by the question, mouth parting in absolute disbelief. Then—

“Hah—!” Her breath hitched, a choked sound halfway between a gasp and a scoff.

She jabbed one finger at the bandage on her arm, then at Airin, then at herself, her gestures sharp and dramatic, as if the sheer audacity needed to be physically pointed out.

An indignant “Hmph!” burst out of her, louder this time, edged with fiery offense.

It was quite bad. And she 100% blamed him for not warning her about that sudden drop in the woodland floor into a ravine full of sharp branches and rocks.

A quiet beach with an even quieter town. A small, insignificant shell over dark, unknowable innards once pulled out && tossed into the sea. An altar sat inside a sea cave. Inside, a statue depicting a man with the lower half of an octopus sat atop an altar decorated with runes. At the the foot of the stature were freshly prepared seafood dishes, clothing made by hand && decorated with greens && blues, && different carvings of the very statue that sat below.

Something, not beast nor man, trasped across the beach, watched by stormy eyes just above the top of the sea. Never had the creature seen the being in the sand, four-legged && small with golden yellow fur that shone in the sunlight. Yet it was no animal. Almost like a man, but not. It was something between, unlike anything the creature had seen deep in the abyss.

They followed the being into the sea cave that held the altar, curious. Mass of tentacles became two unsteady, green-tinted legs. They hobbled through the mouth of the cave, claws gripping along the wall for support. The creature paused just next to a flaming torch, observing the strange mammal take something between its teeth.

ᴅᴏɴɴɪᴇ ʙʀᴀꜱᴄᴏ 1997 ► accepting

"I dunno, ask the mannequin chick." Franco never properly learned her name on account of her being absolutely terrifying to be around. The other assets he could deal with, this one beside him included, but her? No. He'd rather stick a fork through his thigh than talk to her. She was weird and creepy and just... She was worse than anyone else in here, according to Franco.

This was her trial, at least, it was mainly hers. For now, it was a special event Easterman did on occasion that allowed all the prime assets out into the field. Usually, only two were ever allowed, maybe even three if they were feeling generous, but this time they were all allowed to roam. It made it a little cramped in some spaces, but it was to 'provide the reagents a little more therapy', or whatever excuse the big wigs used to justify this. Still, this was annoying. Had he known that he'd be heading to the coldest part of the damn facility he might've worn something to keep him a bit warmer!

INBOX CALL. // @airxn

Sterling glances up, his brows furrowing slightly as his notebook is tapped upon. He's silent for a long moment following Airin's words but when he does finally speak, his tone is stern.

no sword wall, only sword bag