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Well, after sitting in my sketchbook since July 2023, this old linework of Ximena finally has color! (Digitally, anyway. Still gonna do the OG in marker at some point, I just liked that I could fix the nose ring placement easier in a program)
Also yes, I am falling back in the rabbit hole. I even finally scrounged up my Sims 3 save (which I thought was corrupted and lost, but no!) where everybody is sharing a house. Might share some screenshots from that, I tried recreating the magic shop and it came out fairly decent imo.
Nasty case of the sniffles this week, but I still wanted to finish these headshots I made to practice my drawing skills with some fan apprentices, particularly of mutuals or other people I just find neat. There’s more that I love, so I hope to get to practice with them soon.
Vesuvia would bring a lot of new change for Annike and her family. New beginnings, a new home, and for little Katarina, new friends.
Finally managed to complete my fourth submission for @arcana-echoes , as long as it is not May yet, I am definitely not late. Featuring some new, yet familiar faces...
(Background by The Arcana)
No warnings apply. No beta, we die like Fools!
“Remind me again how you managed to even find this place?”
The old shop was dark, save for the afternoon light creeping through the windows. Dust covered the surfaces and hung in the air, the open door only providing so much fresh air to combat the stuffiness.
“I overhead the former owner complain about it,” Annike responded as she set Katarina down. “He got it from his grandmother, but apparently he had no use for it. Considering we needed a place to stay…”
“You bought it from him?” Jacobus finished. “How much did it cost you?"
“Actually, not that much.” Annike shrugged. “Said he didn't care about whether or not he gained profit from it, just as long as it was off his hands.”
A loud sneeze interrupted the two, coming from Katarina. The small child blinked as she was covered head to toe in dust.
“It's dusty."
Annike chuckled, pulling out a handkerchief to to dust off Katarina.
“That's because it's been abandoned.”
Katarina's eyes seemed as blank as newly made parchment.
“It means no one has lived here for a long time.” Jacobus explained, causing the girl to light up, before her eyes furrowed once again.
“Why?”
“Well, maybe the owner already had a place to live,” Annike stood up, walking to the open door to shake off the dust from the handkerchief. “Either way, this will be our new home now.”
Katarina's face scrunched. “Can we clean up the dust first?”
Jacobus let out a hearty chuckle, patting Katarina on top her her head. “Don't you worry about that, we will.”
Katarina turned her head around, gathering more of the area, her curious eyes landing on the staircase that led up. Annike had not yet seen what happened up the stairs, but the man she bought it from said no one had set foot in this place for a while.
“Can I go and look up there?” Katarina pointed.
“Upstairs you mean?” Annike asked, and Katarina enthusiastically nodded.
There would be no harm…
“Alright, but be quick. And don't run.”
Katarina nodded, walking up to the stair case, but only having set foot on one step before she fell over. Before Jacobus and Annike could react, Katarina stood up.
“I'm okay!” She proclaimed, before she sneezed once more. She smiled a big toothy grin before she continued to walk slowly up the stairs.
That girl was going to be the death of them.
“This may actually work for a shop, now that I think about it.” Jacobus mused. “It could be like the wagon we used to operate from. Only with a more permanent roof over our heads.”
“And no more homemade manure?”
Jacobus chuckled. “Yes, that too. The forest out on the outskirts. looks like a good place to scavenge, anyhow. We may not need to buy as many ingredients.”
Callen's judgement had been correct. Vesuvia had turned out to be promising for the family. And easy purchase, a forest ripe with ingredients, a fresh market. This may be the start this family needed. The type of life Aldert had begged his friends to give his daughter.
A shadow formed over the light coming from the door, snapping Annike out of her thoughts. She flipped her head to see a man in glinting chain mail and armour knocking on the open door. He held a halberd as tall as he was, a shield hung behind him
What was a guardsman doing here?
“Excuse me, madam.” He raised his free hand up. “I hadn't realised this place was abandoned. I'm simply here to investigate.”
“Well, technically it was abandoned,” Annike stepped twice towards the door. “My family just moved in.”
“Makes sense,” The guard said with a nod. “Still, I'd be thorough if I were you."
“And why is that?”
The guard did not respond for a while, simply weaving past her, looking around the room.
“You seem to be lacking-”
“May hide some suspicious people.”
Annike opened her mouth to say something, before Jacobus placed a hand on her shoulder, clearing his throat as he addressed the guard.
“I'm suspecting that is what you wanted to ask about.”
The guard turned to face Annike and Jacobus. “We received a testimony from a street vendor that two children stole apples from him. One shorter with fluffy hair, the other taller with a scrap for a blanket.”
From the top of the staircase, Katarina froze in place. Her eyes wide, and her shoulders hunched. She shook her head and waved her hands towards her aunt.
“Do you have any idea where they could be?”
Katarina's gestures were more frantic, one finger moved to her lips in a hushing manner.
Was something wrong? Why was she so insistent?
Choosing to follow through, Annike shook her head. “No. No, there is no one here.”
“And you are sure...”
“Yes. We just did an inspection. All we found was dusty blankets.”
Jacobus ran over to the counter where a pile of dusty blankets was. He picked it up, fanning away dust from his mouth.
“Would you like one, brother?”
“No, thank you.” The guard winced, letting out a cough. “If that is the case, I am just wasting my time here. Let me know if you see them around.”
The guards eyes switched from Annike to Jacobus, back to Annike and back to Jacobus, as he slowly walked out the door, making a sharp turn. Footsteps could be heard on the cobblestone for a brief moment.
Katarina slowly walked down the stairs, still eyeing the door.
“Alright, show me what you're hiding.”
As Annike made the request, Katarina froze right at the bottom step.
“What?”
“I'm serious, little lady.” Annike's tone was stern. “You looked paler than a ghost born in winter.”
“I didn't…” Katarina's steps became smaller, her head was ducked. Guilty as sin.
“What was it you saw upstairs? And why did you not want to say anything?”
Katarina was silent, looking as if she wanted to shrink. Her hands clasped together nervously.
“Don't be mad at her."
A soft voice interrupted, and brought Annike's eyes back to the staircase. Slowly coming down were two children. One with hair as fluffy and white as a cloud, the other much taller, with a withered blanket. Both barefoot.
They were the children the guards were looking for.
The taller boy looked away after the sentence, his cheeks dusted with red.
“She wanted to help us. It's us the guards are looking for.” The white-haired child chimed in.
Katarina finally lifted her head and looked at Annike and Jacobus with pleading eyes.
“Can they have supper with us?”
The white haired child nodded. “We'll leave tomorrow morning, I promise. We don't want to get you in trouble!”
“And where do you intend on going, if we may ask.” Annike crossed her arms.
“We'll just go home. We live by docks.”
Annike and Jacobus exchanged looks. Orphans. Like Katarina.
“But Auntie told me that's where all the kids with no families live.” Katarina spoke
“Of course I have a family.” The fluffy haired child pointed to the boy next to him. “He is my family. And the rest of the kids there.”
Annike knew what Jacobus was trying to tell her from his expression. He didn't want to send those children back. Not without a proper meal.
They couldn't help every orphaned child. But it would be cruel to turn them away when they could help.
“Alright,” Annike agreed.“We'll let you stay with us for the night, but no more stealing from merchants. You nearly wounded up in a lot of trouble.”
“Understood, ma'am.” The white haired child nodded.
Katarina smiled and giggled, meeting the other two children at the bottom of the stairs, grabbing their hands in hers.
“That's my uncle Jacobus and Auntie Annike. My name is Katarina.”
“I'm Asra.” The white-haired child introduced “And this is Muriel.”
The taller boy, Muriel, looked away again.
“He's a little shy, so he doesn't talk a lot,” Asra explained
Katarina let out a toothy grin. “It's nice to meet you, Muriel.”
Muriel did not respond initially, causing Katarina's smile to drop. He seemed to have taken notice of this, as he looked at her once more.
An eternity of traveling leads Jacobus to a stranger, who provides on answers of how a promise old can be fulfilled.
Part three of my submission for the @arcana-echoes event! A little longer this time, as a treat!
(Background belongs to The Arcana)
Mentions of violence, death and a canon genocide which occurred in the universe. And once again, no beta for we die like fools!
“Uncle, you lie!”
A serious accusation from six-year-old Katarina that Jacobus was nearly taken aback.
“Oh? How so?”
Katarina sat on Jacobus's shoulders, her arms crossed on top of his head, lips downturned into a pout.
“You said we're gonna be climbing shiny stairs! There are no shiny stairs!” Her arms spread open.
Annike burst out into laughter, to the point of having to wipe tears from her eyes. “Oh, you're in for it now.”
“I said we're at the Shining Steppe,” Jacobus responded with a smile. “It was the name given by the people who lived here. The Khokuri.”
“Why?” Katarina tilted her head. “It's not even shiny.”
Annike chimed in. “That is because it is the perfect spot to stargaze.”
“Star case?”
“Stargaze,” Jacobus corrected. “When night comes, the twinkling stars come out at night, and they shine so brightly. That is why this place is called the Shining Steppe.”
And just like the stars, Katarina's eyes seemed to sparkle as they widened.
“Can we go see them? Please?”
Jacobus was about to answer, when a voice echoed through the tundra. “Ho, there! Travelers!”
Jacobus and Annike froze in their tracks, as a bulky figure stood in the distance, spear in hand. Their silhouette indicated he wore a parka- common amongst the Khokuri.
Jacobus had not realised there were survivors among the people who attacked the Khokuri. It would explain the weariness surrounding the little family- They could be part of the group that attacked his people, for all he knew.
Annike gave Jacobus a knowing look, understanding the gravity of the situation. She raised her hands up, and gave him a nod.
“Uncle?” Katarina asked hesitantly.
“Don't be frightened. He'll know we're just passing by.”
Slowly, the family began approaching the figure. Their towering stature became more obvious as they got closer. His posture began to visibly relax.
A great weight lifted.
“Good day. You are Khokuri, are you not?” Jacobus asked when they became within talking distance. “We mean no harm. We'd just like to cross.”
The man sighed, lowering his spear as his stoic expression became more relaxed and welcoming.
“Forgive me, you could never be too careful these days.”
“I am Jacobus. This is Annike, and the little one is Katarina.”
“Callen.” The man introduced. “Once again, you must forgive me, I thought you were from the South. Scourge.”
“What is a Scourge?”
Katarina looked over Jacobus's head inquisitively. Callen was more than likely the tallest person she had ever met. Jacobus wouldn't be surprised that she was intrigued… or intimidated.
“A bad group of people.” Callen's voice became playful, his face crunching up. “And they like to snatch little children who do not listen.”
Katarina gasped, shaking her head. “But I listen! I listen good!”
“Is that so?” Callen barked out a laugh. “Well, then, you'd do good to continue listening to Mama and Papa.”
Katarina's expression changed. Her gazed lowered, and she appeared to make herself seem smaller.
It was hard enough to accept how to explain what happened to her parents, let alone that it was for her safety that she left.
Callen's smile dropped. He looked over at the pair with a questioning look.
“We're not her parents.” Annike explained.
“My sister and I were friends of her father,” Jacobus elaborated. “He asked us to take care of her.”
“You have my sympathies.” Jacobus nodded. “Have you been on the road long.”
“We've been nomadic for almost a year, now.”
Callen tutted, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Come, let me take you back to camp. I have family matters to attend to, but you are welcome to stay until tomorrow morning. The little one looks like she could use a proper rest, and a hearty meal.”
Annike and Katarina gave Jacobus an expectant look. It seemed as if the decision rested on his shoulder. If the limited number of books suggested correctly, the Khokuri were peaceful and generous. It might be foolish to turn down the offer.
“Very well.”
Ten minutes the group spent walking, until they arrived at Callen's camp, guarded by a white wolf-dog with piercing blue eyes. He'd shared with them a hearty meal of lamb stew, and a peculiar milky drink, given to him by a family friend.
The sun had begun to set, and Katarina could not keep her eyes open for much longer, worn out by the travel. She was curled up in Annike's lap, Annike rubbing the child's shoulder.
Having finished cleaning the dishes, and giving some meat to his furry companion, Callen joined the fire.
“You said the girl's father had to send her away?”
Annike frantically motioned with her hand for the man to quieter down, shushing him. She motioning her head in Katarina's direction.
“Yes,” Jacobus responded in a hushed tone. “Our home, Vivalen. In the Crab Isles. It had fallen to violence. Her mother… gave her life to protect her.”
Callen frowned. “And her father?”
“We haven't heard since the last letter he sent, two weeks after we left. I'd wish to believe he'd still live, but…”
Jacobus's eyes landed on Katarina once more. He didn't know which explanation was more cruel towards her- a comforting lie, or a cold truth.
Jacobus sighed. “I don't want her hopes getting too high.”
The wolf-dog hugged his snout in Callen's hand, and the man returned with a few scritches. He seemed solemn, but at the same time contemplative.
“Men and women from my tribe had to give away their children when the Scourge attacked,” Callen spoke lowly. “Most of them never got to live to see them again. Eithne and Naran, for instance. Good people. And strong warriors. Fought to the bitter end. They had a young boy they sent away when the Scourge started attacking.”
The wolf dog whined, sensing his owner's pain, and rested his head on his lap.
“I hope he's doing alright. Wherever he is.”
Jacobus couldn't help but wonder how many lives were lost
“Most of the Khokuri are scattered now. Once a year, around this time, we'd come back. Hold ceremonies. In honour of those lost. And the hope that our people will remain strong.”
The fire had begun to dim slightly. Callen took a long stick and began poking at the flames.
“You two have a destination in mind?” Callen asked. “I, obviously, cannot shame you for your nomadic life as a nomad myself. I just wonder.”
“Not really,” Jacobus admitted. “We weren't happy with the places we had initially planned on. We're hoping to find somewhere suitable for the little one, but it hadn't been easy.”
Callen's attention turned back to the family. He set down his stick.
“I heard Vesuvia had become a hub for people like you,” He explained. “Further north from here. Warmer weather, a good trading hub. Lots of opportunities… at least, as I've heard.”
“Have you been there?” Annike asked.
“Not much longer than a few days. Most of what I've heard is word of mouth.”
Jacobus and Annike looked at each other, realising they had the same idea.
“It would be worth seeing, if we can.” Jacobus answered.
“There's a village off of the Great Gate, with ships that frequently make trips to the area. It shouldn't be too hard to catch a trip.”
Callen's eyes soon landed on the sky. Jacobus followed his gaze to the sky changed into a gradient of deep oranges and purples. And a few little bright dots began to litter the sky.
Annike, smiling, looked over at Katarina, still asleep. She woke her up with a gentle shake of her shoulders.
“Mm?”
Annike whispered softly. “Do you still want to stargaze?”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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With a hint of prompt 3 but we'll (hopefully) get to that later. I'm super late because life, but I'll try to do... some of the list hahah. For now have a journal entry that's a bit over-the-top because it's in-character for this nerd. He writes his journals like he wants someone to read them someday. Art by varineur.
@arcana-echoes
1432 SE, Egezis 26th
Spending the night in the middle of the Arundum Pass left me with a sense of homesickness I haven’t felt in some time. Bulan mountains are, of course, a magnificent sight, and so are the other mountain ranges I’ve visited so far, yet it seems like none of them will ever match up to the Southern Spines in my heart. They might not be the largest mountain range on the continent, but I suppose one tends to have biases towards their home.
How fitting it is that the Spines were once known as “The Dragon’s Cradle”! I do wonder whether the name originated from the sharp jagged peaks along their northern edges (which certainly contributed to the new name), or if they stood out as our people’s territory even when we were more plentiful on this continent. It would make sense, I suppose. Even though we never left large grandiose marks of our presence in the Spines, the caves and the Realms carry echoes of generations of ancient dragon families that inhabited the territory before mine.
The scholar part of me wishes that we would leave more behind, that we’d be more inclined to building and carving like some dragons of old, as I’ve discovered, have done in the past. But after having the privilege to grow up under the Spines’ protection, I also understand why it’s been preserved as it is. There is a serene, ancient kind of power in these mountains. The magic sources within them are calm and constant, nurturing the land around them more than changing it. They never gave rise to guardians akin to silent spirits of Tarske or vicious insects of the Canyon of Giants, so instead the Spines have… us.
Before I first called upon my fire breath, before I could even take flight, I was taught to “listen” to the energy filling the mountains and the valley within them. I did not yet know what words were, but I knew the slow rhythm of magic – dare I say, of life. Later, when I was learning the skills that a fledgling ought to learn (and some that I was probably not expected to), I would spend weeks exploring the valley. There are corners of it where I know every tree, large rock and patch of crystal lichen by heart. The minute changes in magic around every single thing I “studied” fascinated me. At some point, I came to a conclusion that magic sources must be living beings much like dragons are, and that if I tried enough, I could understand and communicate with them somehow. It was quite amusing for my parents, I’m sure, to watch their offspring try to talk to trees and lakes, so certain he’d come to a great understanding of the Universe. I wasn’t, of course, correct in my assumptions, though I can’t help but wonder if those attempts of mine were ever noticed by something in the other planes nonetheless. I would like to think that even though my presence in the Southern Spines was relatively short, I still managed to leave my own impression on them. Perhaps next time I return – which, I think, I should try doing soon – I will visit the Realms near one of the sources, and “communicate” with it in a more educated manner.
---
[Some time later]
“…stor? Alastor! Are you listening??”
Pulled out of his thoughts, he tears his eyes away from the horizon and to his pouting partner.
“Sorry, love, I got distracted a bit there,” Alastor says with an apologetic smile. Instantly placated by the pet name, Lucio waves off the apology.
“It’s fine, you’ve just been standing there for a while. I get it’s your first time seeing the Steppe and all. We need to get going though, I do NOT want to still be outside when the night cold hits.”
“Right.”
Despite the perfectly timed gust of southern wind, Alastor’s attention is called back to the mountains in the far distance.
“Hey, Lucio? Those are the Southern Spines, right?”
“Huh? Uh, yeah.” With that terse answer, Lucio pointedly steps away, eager to move towards the nearest town they’re supposed to reach. When Alastor doesn’t follow, he sighs and adds, “There’s nothing there, just a forest and a bunch of rocks. And cold.”
It’s more than that, something tells him. As he turns and catches up to Lucio, that something turns into a soft pull that won’t leave him for the months to come. It’s an odd kind of yearning, eerily similar to the melancholy Alastor briefly feels after waking up from a dream he can never recall.
