MOVED.

it's  been  counting  the  days,  counting  it's  footsteps,  counting  every  little  tool  and  small   -   enough   -   to   -   fit  book  in  those  messy  old  bags  with  each  day.  it's  habitual;  compulsive,  but  it  keeps  the  scientist  sane.  a  wandering  mind  is  a  festering  one.  presently,  it's  counting  the  hours  until  the  second  brother  wakes,  because  while  the  early  hours  were  favored  in  the  castle's  blackened  halls,  it  finds  that  it  sparks  a  rather   ...   antsy  feeling  out  here,  even  if  the  noise  and  smells  of  active  life  are  nothing  short  of  a  sensorial  nightmare.  at  least  comfort  can  be  taken  in  the  moss  and  wet  sod  being  a  much  more  yielding  surface  than  gnarled  stone,  despite  the  comparative  alien   -   ness. 

    skekLach chooses to ignore their elder’s disbelief. an error in judgement, that they could concede, but discoveries could not properly be made without some level of risk. surely, they of all skeksis knew that. besides, they are young, hardier than most. after some more bed rest, they’d be out in the wilds of Thra again, searching for new specimens to add to their impossibly large collection.

“I have,” they answer, head canting to the side as they continue to study the strange plant. it was unspoken that the Scientist keep it. if it meant that they would finally figure out this mystery, they did not mind, and besides, they trust skekTek. it is one of the few they can trust nowadays. 

“a monocarboxylic acid amide was one of my first guesses, but it seems a bit more… concentrated and aggressive.” they reaffirm eye contact with the Scientist, their own golden hues all but aglow. “the gelfling don’t even know what this is,” they breathe. “it’s–it’s something new, or at the very least, an undiscovered hybrid. how exciting!”

an  unfortunate  phenomenon  the  two  share  these  days;  having  to  scan  courtiers'  beaked  faces  for  something  ugly.  skekTek's  unsure  of  it's  origin,  but  assumes  that  it  has  something  to  do  with  more  and  more  grey  tufts  being  found  in  their  ever  thinning  fluff,  even  if  saying  it  out  loud  makes  it  sound  so  much  more   ...   silly  than  it  does  in  their  head.  but  either  way,  the  hypothesis  still  nags  them  and  it's  interactions  like  this  that  remind  the  scientist  why  they  still  trust  and  value  skekLach's  companionship  in  these  strange  times.

stained  with  soot  their  face  may  be,  but  anyone  could  see  it  warp  into  something  prideful  under  all  that  grime;  smug.  skekTek,  in  their  usual  fashion,  is  the  one  breaking  eye  contact  once  the  collector  says  their  part  —  but  ah,  it's  not  out  of  foulness,  no.  it's  the  precursor  to  the  engineer  pulling  themself  to  their  feet,  popping  back  their  back,  and  drawing  the  earthen  pot  up  in  arms   /   and  immediately  readjusting  to  be  hold  in  a  more  outward  fashion.  right,  leaves,  delicate.  "  well,  collector,  you  may  label  it  that  way  for  now.  but  with  the  specimen  in  my  care  it  will  require  a  much  more  specific  classification  soon.  very  soon.  "

a  weighty  statement,  but  one  they  throw  with  ease.  the  youngest  of  the  avians  has  done  nothing  to  bleed  their  pride,  in  fact  the  elder  of  the  pair  firmly  believes  they  have  no  reason  to  ever  worry  about  such  a  thing.  not  from  skekLach.

"  and,  if  i  may  share  a  sentiment  just  between  the  two  of  us ?  "  it  continues,  carefully  stepping  around  the  shorter  skeksis  and  scanning  the  shelves,  the  desks  —  where  oh  where  is  it  to  place  this  oddity ?

"  this  is  far  more  interesting  than  the  engine  model  his  majesty  has  requested  of  me,  i  thank  you.  "

the rules are simple: for each of the below items, fill in three to five things that your character might be identified by. After that, repost and tag away !

emotions/feelings :  analytical,  prickly,  scattered,  critical. 

greetings :  a grunt  or  similar  blunt  exclamations,  simply  calling  out  one's  title,  a  bow  if  appropriate,  a  nod.

colors :  musty  green,  a  dull  cream,  brown,  the  color  of  metal,  blue.

scents :  metal,  smoke,  chemicals. 

clothing :  laden  work  apron,  carapace,  ratty  silken  collar,  long  work  gloves,  chrome  tubing  threaded  through  actual  clothes. 

objects :  tools,  workbooks,  vials,  small  crystals,  surgical  equipment  casually  kept  on  person.

vices and bad habits :  teeth-grinding,  repression,  internalization,  anger-management.

body language  :  idle  fidgeting,  head  tilt,  hands  raised  and  kept  close  to  chest,  scowling,  aforementioned  jaw-grinding.

aesthetic :  chemical  beakers,  skeletal  structures,  mechanical  bits  and  parts,  viscera,  astronomical  charts.

REPOST. DO NOT REBLOG

tagged by :  kept  seeing  it  on  the  dash  so  naturally  i  did  what  i  always  do  and  ganked  it tagging :  idk  man  i  started  filling  this  out  at  5 am  and  have  no  idea  who  hasn't  done  it  or  not  yet

     ‘ 𝙾𝙷 𝙽𝙾 – you found me. i’m shhhhhaking. can you see me shaking , skektek ? ’ skekgra perhaps has never sounded more bored in his entire , quite lengthy life. with his abhorant flare for dramatics , however , even bored sounded a bit too… exciting. ‘ i’m still banished. see ? me ? in this tastefully decorated cave ? banished ! so either you are very lost , or you need something. and if it’s the latter , i have one thing to say to you , my old friend. tough noogies ! ’

skektek & skekgra go to white castle @vliya​​

a  bit  too  exciting,  especially  if  you're  a  creature  as  PARTICULAR  as  skekTek.  as  if  it  was  a  mollusk  and  that  wooden   /   decorative  carapace  perched  atop  it's  back  a  shell,  the  scientist  draws  in,  in,  and  further  inward  on  itself;  scowling  as  usual.  it's  annoyance  voiced  as  a  drawn   -   out,  nasal  whine.  "  oh  i  can  see  that  CLEARLY,  thank  you.  "

       If the Scientist has developed a sickly obsequiousness in order to survive the frayed nerves and non-existent camaraderie of the court, then time spent away from it has caused Snow to develop– re-develop– the pride SoSu once lovingly fostered within her. Her gaze hardens at her old friend’s horror, but not because she is angry with them. Oh no, she’s still debating whether or not it is worth it to teach the remaining courtiers a far over-due lesson. skekSil might have slunk away after the hakskeekah, but the general’s pompous blustering and skekZok’s baleful, calculating eyes in that corpse-like skull pick at phantom wounds, still festering even after all this time.

“And jussst wat is haf done?” she hisses, curls physically flaring along with her aura– once habitually ashen, now the same ethereal ivory she bore during the golden age. “Control de sunsss, you cannot. Listenink to corrupt foolsss for too lonk.”

Yet her reignited anger is just a mask to hide her deep-rooted anguish. She remembered a time in another age when mistakes and miscalculations were welcomed as learning experiences– the vague sensation of a hand upon her shoulder and a slow, patient smile whenever she apologized– But once the Emperor grew desperate to build his empire, that all faded. Science was merely a means to an end for weaponry, transportation, and engineered soldiers. If the Emperor was not pleased, if he did not hear what he wished, the Scientist was punished, often for things outside their realm of control.

It seems skekUng is little different in that regard.

“Lossst patience haf I. Hate me, you may, put will always pe my friend. Haf peen way-layed by skekSil’s whispers too many timesss. Will not stand py if tat Kakofrontesss harms you.”

She knows her words are vain and unwelcome as soon as they leave her lips, but she cannot help but voice them. Some things she has learned to let lie, but the sight of skekTek lurching down the hall, clutching a cloth to a bloodied socket will always be seared into her mind– a brand reminding her of how she has terribly and utterly failed them.

TekTih, forgive me, she prays. That is, perhaps, vain, too, but a habit she has donned again now that the suns are close to alignment. It keeps her sane, at least. Focused on hope rather than the despair that crouches at the door of her soul, like a peeper-beetle ready to devour the soft bits.

"  DON'T  ACT  STUPID !  "  skekTek  yells,  startling  nearby  caged  animals.  it's  frantic  edges  grow  ever  sharper,  fists  going  white-knuckled  as  it  rips  itself  away  and  stumbles  back,  back,  back,  thumping  against  the  desk  and  both  hands  fumbling  to  grip  the  splintered  wood  edge.  "  control  the  suns  ?  NO,  NOT  YET,  but  this ?  "  it  snaps,  mechanical  eye  traveling  up  and  down  as  it  focuses  in  on  the  once-councilor.  "  ' COULD'VE  AVOIDED  THIS.  "

it  could've  and  it  didn't,  for  it's  own  inane  reasons.  this  isn't  the  first  time  the  scientist  broke  a  sacred  rule,  but  it  always  had  clever  reasons  and  excuses,  the  chamberlain  to  back  up  any  odd  claims.  but  now ?  now  it  has  none.  it  has  no  excuse  skekUng  will  understand,  no  reason  skekZok  shouldn't  point  or  accuse,  no  chamberlain  to  stand  just  behind  it's  shoulder  and  croon  —  well,  it's  not  like  that  toxic  solidarity  didn't  fade  trine  ago,  when  skekTek  was  given  the  chance  to  show  their  support  to  a  potential  emperor  skekSil  and  practically  spit  in  his  eye  in  every  way  but  literal.  it's  not  foolish  enough  to  take  comfort  in  empty  sweet  words  anymore,  it's  just  disappointed  at  how  little  time  the  new  emperor  gave  it  to  tear  into  him,  but  to  digress;  the  support  has  never  been  needed  more  than  in  this  moment.  

with  a  ragged  breath,  the  scientist's  eye  now  falls  to  the  floor,  spots  it's  cane,  and  shakily  stoops  down  to  retrieve  it  before  speaking  again.  "  if  you  were  smart,  ' WOULD  STAY  OUT  OF  IT.  any   ...   any  harm,  as  councilor  puts  it,  could  be  avoided  if  just  let  me  handle  it.  "

                            ━━━━━━━━⸢   🌱  ⸣━━━━━━━━

       “ Life  is  sacred !!  Because  of  what  you’ve  done ,  they  can’t  return  to  Thra ! ”

      Both  sickened  &&  saddened  by  the  words  she  spoke ,  the  smaller  Gelfling  wrapped  her  arms  around  herself  in  a  feeble  attempt  to  fend  of  the  chills  she  got  from  being  in  the  skesis’  threatening  presence .

the  click  of  serpentine  tongue,  it's  own  spindly  arms  cross.  words  so  heavy  leave  the  grottan,  but  to  the  reptile  they  weigh  just  the  same  as  a  formula  it  hasn't  fully  deciphered,  or  —  no  —  lighter  than  that.  in  fact  it's  not  even  sure  such  a  thing  had  been  considered  upon  the  first  experiment,  even  back  when  shreds  of  normalcy  clung  like  burrowing  bugs.

❝ you’re not a lord at all . ❞   /   age  of  resistance  1x06. 

raw,  raw,  RAW  nerves,  blinding  white  hot !  shrieking  upon  something  as  soft  as  a  spring  ninet  breeze  barely  grazing  the  shredded  bundle;  all  cut  up  like  something  delicate  a  fizzgig  caught  in  it's  too  many  teeth.  you'd  think  this  would  spawn  an  AVERSION,  mold  more  bricks  for  the  particularly  scrawny  skeksis'  walls,  but  you'd  be  surprised.  

if  anything,  skekTek's  waiting  to  snap  it's  tooth-cluttered  jaws,  and  the  stonewood's  small  hand  came  too  close.

"  WHAT  AM  I  THEN ?  "  a  statement  of  their  collective   /   malignant  gluttony,  it's  sure,  or  at  least  a  little  subconscious  piece  of  it  is  sure.  but  here,  in  the  heat,  it's  just  so  much  more  personal.   is  that  the  light  voice  of  a  gelfling  the  scientist  hears ?  or  one  much  more  guttural ?  "  i  would  just  adore  a  lecture  from  an  EXILE.  "

HIS FOOTSTEPS echoed along the empty castle halls, slow but with a consistent stride, mind lost, wondering within himself on this quiet night. thoughts of his other half, his mira, swam across. the bellflowers that she loves so much bloomed brightly around this time. ‘  although not as bright as she does. ‘  he found himself musing ; no, not even great sun of the three brothers could be as bright as she was. quickly as that thought emerged an idea struck to accompany it, perhaps if given the chance he would quickly pluck one that laid in the dark woods ; his father had laid to rest for the night and the guards at the castle gates were good friends of his. ( and if not a small bribe never hurt to sway. )

❝  that settles it, watch out bellflowers i come for you.  ❞

as he turned towards the hall leading to the gates rian stopped as a large shadowed figure walked about. years of training drew his hand to reach for the blade strapped to his side before slowly making way towards whatever walked in the shadows. once the distance shorten the stonewood gelfling found that he recognized the shape. hand falling from the handle of his sword he cleared his throat to make himself known to one of the great lords of the crystal,  ❝ m’lord, are you alright?  ❞ upon close inspection he realized this was the great scientist, one he had only seen once or twice.

starter for @vliya

to  put  a  long  story  short :  the  laboratory  just  needed  to  air  out.  to  put  it  in  a  way  that'd  satisfy  nosy  brethren  —  which  was  most  of  them  —  the  latest  prototype  had  met  a  rather   ...   explosive  end,  and  the  laboratory  needed  to  air  out.  to  put  it  the  way  skekTek  prefers,  the  whole  fiasco  would  be  skipped  entirely  despite  the  ash  smears  and  the  reptile  would  simply  say  it  needed  air.  and  to  visit  the  great  library,  and  maybe  eat,  but  especially  visit  the  library.  which  wasn't  a  lie,  in  fact  the  incident  finally  spurned  it  to  do  so.

the  night  air  is  certainly  a  refreshing  change,  and  with  its  fellows  tucked  away,  quiet  too !  really,  it's  all  too  easy  to  take  a  metaphorical  step  back  and  become  lost  in  it's  own  mind,  the  cluttered  labyrinth  it  is.  always  thinking,  thinking,  thinking,  also  all  too  easily  swept  away  from  the  world.  the  scientist  could  let  it's  ironclad  guard  down  just  for  once,  visibly  so  to  those  who  know  it,  else  the  tiptap  of  gelfling  feet  would  have  been  as  loud  as  a  thunderclap.  no,  it's  the  unfortunate  act  of  being  outright  addressed  that  settles  reality  into  place.