#thoseofonen

continued from here. @thoseofonen​

It was a fearful voice, and therefore not likely to be of any danger to Dustfinger.  He found himself in the opposite situation he’d expected - that of convincing his unfortunate companion that he himself was safe to be around.

The voice was also soft and deep, clearly no woman or child’s.  Not anybody who should have anything to fear from Dustfinger.  Maybe somebody of his own social class, living far enough outside of the protection of the law that a chance meeting with a soldier or noble could mean trouble.

“Is it alright if I shelter here for a while from the storm?”  Asking for help was the quickest way to earn trust.  “I don’t want anything else and I’ve no intentions of hurting anybody.”

Hilda glanced to the man lying supine and asleep upon the floor. “I’m not asking you to, it’s just– I dunno. Could have found a better place to put him to sleep, maybe, saying your Seothín-or-however-it-went incantation, y’know?”

Still, he– what’d he say his name was?– Liam was right. The guy, probably drunk off his ass, shouldn’t have been fucking snooping on their conversation in the damn back room, and that was that. Problem was, now Ingvar was asleep, too, slumped over the table and head in folded arms, half-filled pint of hard cider beside him. He wasn’t snoring, but his breathing was a bit loud. Peaceful. Big old sap, praise her ironic language for the green-thumbed former-giant. He’d not covered his ears in time. That was fine. He probably could have used the rest, however long it’d last.

“Right, as I was in the middle of asking– how the fuck did you get him,” him of course being Ingvar, “to fit in here? How’d you even meet? He’s– good at hiding, usually, for a giant and all.”

Liam furrowed his brows. “That’s not how it works.” Not how he worked anyway. Props to ‘all the other magic users’ out there who only needed to think of an outcome and have it happen or at least could blame every mishap on how their powers were well beyond their control sometimes. Not with Liam though. He always was in full control, he just made stupid decisions on a regular basis.

One of which led to their current situation. Although it could have been worse. Much, much worse. So the mage took another sip of his beer and gladly jumped on the bandwagon of going back to discussing things as if nothing ever happened.

“I got lost in the great outdoors and he helped get back to civilisation. Yeah, I know, I’m a text book city child”, he shrugged, “I’ve a friend to whom we are as big as Ingvar would normally appear to us. Pixie, that is. Little pointy eared creatures with wings. I’ve traded their size differences in a ritual. She tall, he small. Well, he’s still taller than her, but ye get the idea.” The idea was that he had alienated a demonic ritual. But really, there was no good or evil in magic, only good and evil intentions. And he had had the best intentions.

Ingvar shook his head.

“You misunderstanding; I… I ought to be… being brave. For not being brave, it… it not helping, and… making things worse, often.”

He sighed. Was he making a lick of sense to her? Maybe it was his Common; perhaps it was simply too rusty for him to get anything significant and personal like this across efficiently.

“It… different. When you are being last of people like you, it… responsibility to be being brave, or else dooming entire people of giants to being forgotten of.”

  “.... that sounds stupid.” Arching a brow, Abby crossed her arms before her chest. Ingvar was right - she did not understand. But she doubted that the language barrier really was to blame.

  “People do not forget because you not brave, but they forget if you not proud. You feel shame for who yourself, but you should feel proud. You should step up and say ‘Look, this me, I can’t change me but that okay’. All you have to do - talk to people. Nobody who talked to you could forget.” She smiled.

|| Meme Starter || 

@thoseofonen​: “ Please, allow me t-to be... explaining. ” ( from Ingvar! )

    He was a giant. Not a Hinox, thank the Goddess, but a giant none-the-less. Zelda looked up at his massive form and fought the urge to turn her horse around and run. Yet the ruins beyond him were absolutely necessary for her research— if they were even still standing. She suspected that some of the crumbled structure of the ancient temple was in part due to its guest. 

    Call for help, whispered a voice in Zelda’s mind, he’ll kill you. 

    Yet his eyes seemed to carry emotion, fear and guilt, and he spoke— surely those were all signs of intelligence. Please, he had said. What sort of monster would say please? 

    Alabaster tried to turn, huffing and stomping his hooves at the giant. Zelda soothed him with a murmur into his mane, though her eyes never left the stranger in front of her. Her heart felt tight. She still wanted to flee.

    Do it, the voice urged again. 

    She stayed.

    “...Very well, then...explain.” 

Neff was used to a lot of things.

She was used to creatures far and wide, she was used to the paranormal and supernatural, she was used to being thrown across time and space and meeting all the unique and colorful people she did.

However there was always something new to discover....and right now was one of those times. She’s certain she’s dreaming, but this doesn’t feel like HER dream. It was possible she’d end up crossing paths with another in her own dream, given her outfit was not her usual fighting gear. She was in the clothes she usually wore for her nightly walks. Strange.

Even funnier was how she found all of this stranger than the EXTREMELY large man sitting about. This was a dream after all, and even if it wasn’t....well she’s used to this.

This is not at all a silly question and I’m glad you asked. Thank you so much. <3 This is why you’re really the best.

So there’s a bit of tribalism in fandom where people like to give themselves cute nicknames to show who they are. Most fandoms have these groups and the names are often based on a word, phrase, or object that a character is associated to. A great deal of the time these fans are harmless.

A sad thing is that the Once Upon a Time fandom, even though it’s not really an active fandom, still has active strongholds for certain characters. Some of these strongholds engage in very bad behavior. Cut here cause this is getting long! For those stopping here, our fandom is not nice and I’m not entertaining it here. For those reading on...eyyy!

That Mun on Fandom Politics!

----- IT wasn’t entirely clear why Taryn had decided to stay out in the giant’s forest far after sunset. Was something wrong back at the village? Was she simply too exhausted to make the trek back? Whatever the reason, she hadn’t said it aloud, but INgvar had been kind enough to let her stay in the area.

She felt that building a fire anywhere near this place would be wrong, and there wasn’t much need for one with how brightly the moon shone through the spaces between the trees. She and Ingvar had been indly chatting, but the giant was clearly tired as he’d taken to sleeping amongst the long grass and flowers a while ago.

Everything was quiet. If she listened close enough, she could hear the small fluttering of firefly wings and the babbling of a not so distant creek. Heavy eyes blinked slowly at the darkness, undecided between admiring the stillness or finally finding a night’s rest. However, the disgruntled sounds from the nearby giant quickly drew her attention.

Thick brows furrowed, the uncomfortable tossing and turning, the way his mouth fought for words, it was obvious he was experiencing an unpleasant dream. Moving closer, the smaller woman carefully placed her hands in the giant’s thick hair, speaking his name and urging him to wake up. When those emerald orbs finally revealed themselves, Taryn could see the hint of tears glittering in the corners of Ingvar’s eyes.

She, of all people, knew the terrible power of nightmares, and offered the giant a sympathetic look as she did her best to soothe him. Nimble fingers and small hands gently urged the knots from his hair, massaging his scalp here and there as she wove thick braids. She looked back to him, brushing her fingers over his forehead to smooth away some hair before hesitantly leaning down and pressing a kiss to his skin.