#riftward

Linea wiggled her toes against the stream of the quaint river she was using to soothe herself. She’d spent the better part of the day lost in a town she’d never been to or heard of. She clapped her flats together and plunged them into the water too. That amount of walking in just these was brutal. After dumping the water back out, she set them both aside and enjoyed the rush of the water on her hands.

Julien was pacing very close by; the only comfort she had right then. They’d gotten lost in the woods - not something that’s never happened before, but this place…

Riftwood. It was straight out of an episode of the Twilight Zone. The town had definitely seen better days, and the nearly hostile welcome she’d gotten from the residents didn’t help it. Didn’t help her, more importantly. She only knew the name because she’d found an abandoned newspaper. It was hastily folded and stashed into her bag with the rest of what little she’d brought for this surprise adventure.

Linea whined a little. It was embarrassing, really. And very scary. What was she going to do about their food? Where would they stay? It was already obvious they’d be here through the night. All she had in her bag to eat was a bag of pretzels, a pack of gum, and a few liquid tube treats for Julien. At least he’s not going to be upset about having treats for dinner.

Nothing is right here, she ruminated. She couldn’t stop. This place was sketchy in such a weird way. She could remember the exact moment she started to feel the innate oppression, the exact step she took. And when she’d fruitlessly tried to appeal to the residents for help, she’d been met with another level of cold shoulder. And- everything else, she couldn’t explain it.

Nothing is right here.

At least it was raining - little joys. She amassed her hair to the back of her head and gave it a series of twists before setting it with her hairpin. Linea caressed the smooth jade pin while keeping her face turned up to the sky to receive the raindrops for a bit.

Linea pulled her airy robe around herself more. Under that she was only in a long dress made for warmer weather. It suddenly occurred to her that she had nothing else to wear either… it renewed her fury.

How did she manage to get this lost? She and Julien went to the same lake several times a week for almost a year by that point. Nothing about this situation was right either.

She pulled her legs up to her chest and hugged them. Julien came to curl against her. He was as off-put by this entire thing as she was. He could feel it too. The underlying hostility, even in the flora.

memes, accepting

in his feverish fog, things come to him slowly. the bandages, winding a limp arm. the mournful bay of a dog. the person’s face blurred above his half-shut eyes. (it clicks, hazily, that she asked about his collapsed shelter.)

“ i read survival manuals. ” hoarse, haggard whisper. “ the rest is trial-and-error. ” his mammoth heavy head rolls toward his right. the whole room sways with the movement.

@riftward with ❤️🐶⭐️

❤️ - What is your favorite character you've written?

dont do this to me. don't do this to me. i feel like i am obligated to say my stinky wraith boy, gabriel. i've been writing him for 9 years (almost 10) now, and he is BY FAR my most developed muse. i have built his stupid ass from the ground up, b.lizzard PAY ME MY MONEY (i'm joking but also). i started writing him at a conveniently dark time in my life, and i put a lot of my energy into him and who he is because i unfortunately resonated with a lot of what he went through in his story. he will always always always have a special place in my heart.

🐶 - What's your favorite animal?

I LOVE A RED PANDA!

⭐ - What line of work are you in? Do you enjoy it?

i am banned from speaking about my line of work SO i'll answer this with my other primary job which is being a stay at home parent to my gremlin of one who consistently keeps me on my toes in everything she does. she's currently obsessed with kpop d.emon hunters and asks me every morning for "ru.mi hair". have you ever wrestled an alligator? same experience

Linea lay there on the grass on her back under an overcast of trees in the O’Connor back yard. Her arms were lifted above, making a simple game out of blocking the way the sunrays peeked through the leaves while the wind jostled them. It was a hot day and so she wore only a simple, grey cotton sundress. She smiled and pressed one eye closed to jump her perspective and avoid another beam.

“Behind a wall there is a boy, I tried to reach for many years. Each time it rains I see his face. I offer shelter, he walks away.”

Julien paced the yard around her, leisurely and observant as ever, but turned his attention towards her when she started to sing. She was looking at him as she did, a happy little lilt in the rhythm. He came closer to her and gave her hair a gentle sniff. It was laid in a mess underneath her head, twisting and looping, stacked on top and beneath itself.

And then she sprung up, grabbed him and smothered him in her arms. Between kisses and giggles and coos, Linea sang the next verse,

“May you have brighter tomorrows, the past your had was shrouded in deceit. May you be eternally beautiful the way you are, the way you are to me.”

She hugged Julien and every ounce of his fluff to her chest, quietly continuing the rest of the song until she felt it - that tell-tale shiver. Almost as if she already knew he was there, Linea’s surprised gaze found his instantly.

Arlo was stood there in the doorway, clearly stopped in the middle of his motion. His face flushed when he’d been caught and he looked away as quickly as she’d met his eyes.

Mirrored Perspectives Prompt

🤝 sender offers their hand to receiver after a fall

The entire O’Connor family must have been unreasonably tall, the way Arlo is, because she needed a stool to just barely manage to grab the hanging line to the attic. And she still needed to do an ill-advised hop. The place was quite old, so she’d learned quickly to put real intention behind getting things open-

Except this was the one door to slide open with ease. It swung down and she reeled back to avoid being hit. The stool tipped and then toppled and she went down with it. Her back hit the hardwood floor, wholly knocking the wind out of her. At least she’d slid out of the way of the fold-out ladder.

Still, there wasn’t enough air in her lungs to appreciate that. Linea let her head knock back against the floor and she writhed there in her struggle to make her body breathe again. Through her wheezing she could hear Arlo’s heavy steps rushing up the stairs to her. If she could groan in the moment, she might’ve.

When he was up the stairs enough to see her, he gasped and moved faster. He slid across the old wooden floor in his socks for some speed and grabbed the hanging ladder to easily stop himself. Having grown up here, she was sure he was a pro in this sport.

Arlo nudged the stool aside and leaned down to help her. Finally she took a breath. When she opened her eyes, he was bent right over her, hand outstretched. Linea laid there dazed and got a little lost in the vivid green of his eyes. They reminded her of the lush foliage that dangled over the river they'd met at. He looked so concerned, the way his eyes were so, so wide and pursing his full lower lip like that…

Her face flushed and she sat up. She kept her eyes locked on his helpful hand while she took it in both of hers, accepting the lift. The task was effortless for him; it made her feel like she weighed nothing. To him it probably felt like she didn’t either.

Linea staggered a little bit, needing to lean against him to recover. Her cheek pressed his chest and she smiled a little bit. He smelled nice.

@riftward with ❝ you startled me. i…i was miles away. ❞ — for gale, from leah

The hand upon the druid’s shoulder wasn’t meant to elicit the jarring reaction it’d received. Approaching from behind, the simple scattering of her nightly attire flourished delicately over the battered log she’d considered to be a seat before the simmering of the lake– Gale was simply seeking some evening chatter. Striking a conversation with someone new to their group seemed to only benefit him in the long run– taking the first pick, almost. Getting to know someone when they weren’t surrounded by the misfit band of the rest; it was serene, calming. A setting that invited careful pose just due to its atmosphere alone.

A gentle palm retracted itself almost immediately, flinching from the edge of her silhouette as though he’d dipped his fingers into flames. 

“Gods– forgive me. I assumed the rather loud crunch of the few twigs under my soles would have alerted you enough to my presence, my apologies.” Gale offered a sincere twist of his lips, letting the stretch of his hand fall and rest at his side once more. “May I?” The same hand gestured itself toward the latter half of the oak, “I’m willing to offer an ear if there’s something that troubles you.” 

Send me 📏 (ruler) + your muses height and I'll compare them to mine!

people weave between the bones of the building like ghosts, feet rabidly kicking up trails of brick dust and dirt as the music pulses into the earthen floor. maverick doesn't really do this kind of music, this kind of dancing; he doesn't like anything he's not good at. he circles until he feels someone finding enough purchase on the sleeve of his shirt to drag him into the horde.

she's nothing but a drop in the bucket. he almost can't see her under the shadows of the other dancers. when he tries to step away, there's already someone at his back, enclosing him in.