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Accurate as the rules Macaw lives by.
So I guess he’s a ferret more than a parrot???
A long-overdue request for one of my giveaway winners, umbrarex! Thanks for being patient while I was swamped with school. Hope you like it!
…Oh. Oh man I am SO glad I stopped avoiding Tumblr today of all days.
You did him justice and I just can’t even.
What are words.
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU AHHH.
The colours, the lighting, the pose. HE LOOMS.
X, LOOKIT MY PRECIOUS.
Rebagled to the proper blog. Eee still so pleased, and still cannot properly express my delight.
The amount of comfort derived from the hydra’s eager presence at his side surprises Oti’eno considerably.
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Done originally because I wanted SOME sort of image to go with Meej’s “What would you eat?” ask for putting up on my silly new ask blog (because it’s painfully blank and she was nice enough to give me a prompt to try).
But what was supposed to be short and quick ended up being… not so much. I went through like five different doodles before finally settling on this one because I was bound and determined to get his awkward, ugly, gap-toothed smile just right on that border between creepy and cute.
I still don’t think I succeeded and it’s as unfinished as all my work, but I’m tired and this’ll have to do.
Edit: fml I forgot his ears.
Whatever. I’ll fix it tomorrow.
Because Draiol is kind enough to put up with my blathering, I guess.
This is super long, so behind a cut.
Once, when Tisho and Penny were still shaping their relationship and Penny was even more clueless than he is now, Tisho got it into his head that since living elves like flowers and chocolates and all those other things (and I believe Love Day was going on, on top of it), he would try his hand at courting Penny a little more obviously than he’d been.
So he bought chocolates and he flash-froze some flowers, and gave them to a dead elf.
Who had no idea what either were for or what to do with them (I don’t think he remembered what chocolate even was, in fact) and while he thanked Tisho, it still fell kind of flat for the poor guy.
And it was made worse by how there happened to be a gaggle of living elves nearby watching this awkward little bit of courting. They mostly laughed at Tisho or tried to offer “advice” on it—including describing courting as “because sex is the end goal” and that confused Penumbral even more when he and Tisho can’t have sex because DEAD and REASONS and the whole mess ended with Penumbral having a bit of an aversion to the whole idea of courting as a result.
Thankfully, he later [re]learned what courting really was and that relationships don’t need to involve sex. These two remain a rather fun interpretation of how a relationship can be, since it’s largely romantic interests and some handholding and sharing food tastes and emotional support and being Useful Dead Things together for the living things present in their lives.
Macaw - Offer Me
His sturdy legs took him far to the other side of the city, and in his lost wandering, they took him furthest to a room with rich colours, thick plush rugs, and brilliant, smoky crystals bigger than his own self.
“Why so glum, my little honeybee?”
GOING TO LAY HERE AND PET THIS. lksjfk;s’s;
Have a thing. It’s barebones because I’m still fixing it up, and I need to either wheedle art from someone or suck it up and do shitty little doodles myself, but in the meantime… uhh. Have at thee?
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The chewed up hand that peels off the vellum-wrapped tome trembles minutely. Blackened, skeletal fingers shred the paper only with concerted effort, for their owner lacks even the meager strength and vigour he once possessed.
Click goes the lock at his touch, and roll goes the nebulous, shadowy eye within its socket. The attached chains begin to disintegrate into nothing, like fine grains of sand puffed away on an errant breeze.
Crackle, the shelfback whispers as he opens the tome up; shhh, says the folded up note that flutters free into his lap. Reading it taxes him just as much, but he persists, mouthing the syllables as tired, hollow eyes scan the elegant script with slow, ponderous persistence.
Sometimes to See, you must brave darkness.
His trembling hand spasms, involuntarily crumpling the parchment between the stiffened fingers. Daring to read another line—with the cruel susurration of darkness humming through his mind—becomes a struggle of will versus crippling fear.
You can become the master, rather than the slave.
An enticing promise—but he remembers promises, and how all of them habitually end as false hopes hellbent on crushing him beneath the weight of their failure and disappointment.
Desperation trips him into kindling a flicker of hope, however, and his reward becomes the finally, penned line:
Do not fear the bees: my Eyes are all around you.
The Forest does not cry, and while his shell might be an elf’s, he remains Forest through and through, and so the hot, salty tears that brim over and dribble down dirty, sunken cheeks cannot be his.
The dark-skinned, fel-riddled creature that can barely pass for a boy tucks the opened lock against his cracked, callused palm—clutching to it as much as the heavy book cradled in the crook of his bony elbow, because they represent the only Light a monster like him might dare dream of beneath the barbed sting of Solly’s bees.
((THANK YOU FOR THE BOOK, X. I WILL WORK VERY HARD IN GETTING ‘TALA TO 90 AND GEARED FOR THIS ADVENTURE. <3<3))