Post by mintedstar/fur🦇 on Dec 21, 2018 3:20:45 GMT -5
The busy malls, the crowded stores, the packed parking lots. Everyone is rushing around and I was no exception. ^^ Over this month a couple of you have already had these spoiled to you, but I still wanted to collect these all together - and add a special message. You've all been a special light in my life this year and I wouldn't be this happy this December without you. I know not all of you celebrate Christmas - I know not all of you are having a good month or year - but I just wanted you all to know that I love thinking about all of you and you truly have brought me a lot of joy this holiday season.
Now, not all of you still visit the forums very often or at all anymore. But I tried to either send this link to all of you or the message/art itself. Just about all of you were sent a list of mediums to pick from and most of you chose without asking what it was for. Well, here are the results!
Also, if you aren't hear, I'm so, so sorry. I really tried to make a gift for everyone and I really, really don't want to have missed anyone. So, please, if I missed you, tell me. I might have mixed up your name on the list. @.@
In order of gift list:
Katanaheart
I sent you a list to pick from and you picked Story. So I wrote a story about The Lighthouse. The Lighthouse has been a great story for me to read to and from school and I've looked forward to each new episode. Figuring out the puzzles - or failing to - has been a great joy.
I love talking to you and want you to know that you have been a wonderful person to plot with. Hearing about your journey has been a highlight of this year. Please don't ever give up on being you!
---
Rain fell around the lighthouse in pounding sheets, making the mud run outside and the walls slick. It pattered into cracks and dripped down the lines the lighthouse was made on.
As the night progressed, the storm grew colder and the rain was interspersed with scatterings of snow and sleet. In the lighthouse, it was completely quiet, even in the constantly shifting halls and impossible locations. The water was still, the garden was silent. The world held its breath within the walls.
And outside, the wind blew snow against the roof.
A cat looked at it from a distance, tail flicking over the soaked stones under paw. The lapping water of the sea and the darkness around them was useless when it came to making the storm easier. It might have been pretty to watch, from the inside, but the cat would never willingly enter the lighthouse several dozen tree-lengths away.
Their nose wrinkled up in distaste, though it didn't seem like they cared too much about the wind and wet. Their eyes, instead, were focused. The light on the top of the light how spun, piercing the darkness. It was only one its dozen rotation or so that the cat stood. They turned, walking in another direction. Away from the lighthouse.
It was, they thought. A shame. A shame it couldn't burn down to its foundations. That any snow that fell might as well be covered in blood.
Maybe this Cycle it would end, but they held no hope for that.
They jumped down to another set of rocks, their gray pelt getting dusted with damp flakes of white. Sleet dripped down their ears, brushing against their eyes. The cat only paused to shake out their fur. It was disgusting. And not the weather. They didn't care much about the weather. It wasn't harming them. No, what harmed them was the thought that they were this useless.
Some of the others could move, they could have some control. But not them. They were confined to inaction.
Another rock was jumped to, until the dangerous black waters were nearer to them. The white flakes and rain disappeared into its expanse.
The muscles of the cat bunched. Tonight, perhaps? Perhaps tonight, there would be some purpose. Maybe the storm would change something. Maybe whatever powers-that-be could make this life different?
They jumped. Paws reached for the crashing water. But the cat never got to see the distant waves reach them. There was a tug at their spine, the world spinning ... and then they were back on the rocks again, flakes of snow falling around them, rain dripping down their pelt.
Through their pelt.
Nothing changed. Still a spirit, still confined to the place that was a curse.
The cat looked up into the sky about, the storm and the snow and the patterns of flakes in the sky.
"StarClan," they breathed into the sky without a star to guide them. "If you could see your way to bury this place in snow ... so they never find it again."
Their attention turned to the ground again.
"So they never find me ..."
Numquam
I know we haven't know each other long or often interacted, but you are a wonderful person and I want to get to know you better. Your posts are wonderfully written and you're personality is something to be treasured. I hope you like this gift. You requested watercolor and I did my best to capture an OC I have never drawn before. <3 Please continue to be my friend into the next year.
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Sησω
I really wanted to give you art of one of my favorite characters of yours. Vanta is very cute and I'm looking forward to what you do with him in the future. I picked black card stalk because I wanted to draw the light instead of shading. Thank you for joining TPH. It's been a lot of fun and I can't wait to see your improvement and strides in the future! <3
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Shadepelt15
Years been wild, right? But I've liked it none the less. Chatting with you late and night has been great and talking to you and Des has been awesome. I drew Shade, of course, but I tried some blue color accent. It's been great planning things with you and thanks for always returning my messages, even when I know you're busy. ^^ I hope the future looks bright.
---
»ƑαƖcση
Misspelling 'merry' as 'marry' was very humorous, so I kept it. Thanks for sticking around for my Arthur plot ramblings. I hope this next year brings you more time for the simple joys in life and that you can continue to expand your horizons.
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Cloverleaf
Lately we've been talking more and I've never regretted it. There have been some late nights on both ends, but they've been great. Hearing your insight and spirit is amazing. You are a very bright fire and your energy is something to be looked up to. Thank you for listening to all my ramblings - and laughing with me - about things that no one has found funny. Your positive voice is just amazing and I can't express how great it is that we all have you.
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Iceclaw
Seeing you late at night is sadly a common thing now. But I still appreciate you talking to the girl in the past - sometimes in more ways then one. Thank you for being there and thank you for helping me through English. <3 I drew Kid and Rex after getting dunked in the lake. I said it would just be the SS art.
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<Raintalon>
Thank you for so much fun and being a good friend. <3 Your input is always appreciated and thanks for putting up with my excited Myrnin lore at odd hours. Your continued support keeps me going and I look forward to seeing where are little mad genius trio goes.
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Brownie
Thanks for all the love, Brownie. <3 You're still so nice to me and I hope your life is going well.
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Tidestripe
Your energy is still great to see. Never stop loving things the way you do!
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Stranger Things
I still can't go a day without laughing or smiling about something you've said or that we've RPed. :') Please continue being the person you are.
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Owlmoon
Your continued support of me is so very helpful. <3 I miss you sometimes, but I hope you're life is treating you well.
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--cato phoenix
Thank you for all your help and support and thank you, thank you for always being vampire kat. XD It's so nice to have you around despite my living-in-the-past life.
I drew Vyra because I don't pick on her enough. This was a joke picture about her mile long hair that would grow every time you drew it.
---
ᴛᴜᴇsᴅᴀʏ
My favorite named-after-a-day forumer. <3 Thank you for being one of my supportive friends and still hanging around. I miss you, if I'm honest, and that we don't get more time together.
This is art for Way of the Wolf. Now, I know it looks a bit blended between the cat and the wolf, but that was intended.
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» ѕнαdσω ⚔️
Still a calico and forever one. I told you the gift was early. XD But there's still Cursedmas. But that aside, thank youuuuuuu! You're so special to me and I know this year has been so hard, but I need you to know that I love and care about you. You are the best and I hope this next year is so much better for you. <3
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Leapkit
I still want to RP with you and I haven't given up yet, I promise! You've been great this year. You've taught me a lot, believe it or not, and I'm going to keep it to help me next year. Thank you for always offering to be there for me, but never give it a second thought of talking to me.
I drew Fletcher this time, because it's been a long time and I wanted to try my hand again. I hope that it looks good. <3 Please have a better next year than this year. Aim for the stars, because you deserve them.
---
dawn
I've never drawn your cat OC, so it was high time I did so!
Recently I got to talk to you and that was honestly awesome. I'm very pleased with the amount of time I've gotten to interact with you this year and I hope next year can be more so!
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🍁Searipple101🍁
I have loved watching you grow as a writing so much! You are infinitely patient with me and I don't deserve that, but I thank so much for it. Your stories are always so wonderfully displayed and I can't wait to see what's in your future. You are so nice and, just ... thank you. *hugs*
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🎃❅❖.Şp໐໐kฯຟiຖ໓.❖❅🎃
Thank you for all your kind words and wonderful art! Never give it up and I can't wait to see the improvement in your future! I said I'd draw a certain someone.
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Dingoleap
AAAAAAAAAAH What can I say? What can I say? Amazing author, wonderful friend, impeccable taste in ... everything! Perhaps my only complaint is that there's a computer screen in the way of me hugging you. Does that count?
I made a playlist for you. If you don't have the site, please say and I'll copy the list. The aim of the playlist was for your fic, but I also hoped you'd like the songs as well, ha ha.
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tiger beetle
Reading about your day is quite awesome, truly. And you are a wonderful artist and I look forward to hearing from you so much. Thank you for supporting PtS! It means the world to me.
Now, there was a slight mix up with your art. You requested colored pen, but directly below you on the list was a request for colored pencil. So IOU one colored pen art. Until then, here's 'Glass' from Broken Glass and some fun collars.
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𝓓𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓱 𝓑𝓻𝓪𝓶𝓫𝓵𝓮
Honey, I will say until someone tells me to shut up, but you are such a great person. You are always helping me out and always there to talk and that's just something so rare these days. Please have a good December and keep smiling.
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EthanTheAnnus
Too be honest, seeing you rant about IW after it being out so long is very cute. And I've loved watching your art grow and change with you along with it. You're a good person. I'm looking forward to continuing to know you.
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Mosspool
Thanks for continuing to let me talk about books into you're ear so much. <3 It's very awesome. I hope that your next year goes well and that you get all you want.
You're welcome to take this picture however you like!
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~∂єѕтιиу
I hope you're doing okay! I miss you!
Have a Hook-hook with interesting colors.
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Kuragehime
You asked for colored pencil. You got a cat on a ski slope. Of course!
Thanks for hanging out with me and entertaining my wild schemes like - well - all of them. I love seeing you and I love all the suggestions I get from you even more. Happy holidays!
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Nightwisher
Yes. It's another joke piece of art. Thank for playing Mint's art lotto. But that aside, thanks for the fun, Wisher. XD Shilo is a great kid. Looking forward to getting to know you better as we go!
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Razzle Dazzle
You are ... just great. You are very nice to me and I just don't have words to express how much seeing you around brings me joy. :'D
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Darkshine Laufeyson-Barnes
Heeeeeeeeeeeeey! I know this year has been busy and more for you. <3 I just hope the next one treats you better. Thank you for still talking to me and I hope that wont change! You're still a great person - why? you thought that had changed? - and I love hearing from you whenever you have time.
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~Sapphire~
How are you still here? I'd have thought you would have gotten bored of everywhere we go ending up as a chatroom. And the fact that our PM is three years and still going. It's amazing. I knew you from your first fic and look at you now! I'm just ... speechless. Thank you so much for still being here and great and ... *tackle hugs*
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𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛
Wow. Wow. And Wow. Hello! Look! XD It's the holidays! Where do I even start?
It's awesome fun having you, Dia, and Hime all talking with me and it's just ... I need to look up more words for awesome. I really love it.
I did a spark crackling fire and I really like how it turned out.
---
®Hawkpath®
My gosh. Watching my characters grow up along side yours has been really great and I ... as it gets later I run out of words, but I really have to say that you're still someone I look forward to talking to so much.
I wrote about Samuel and Sherlock, for varying reasons. It is also the longest story because ... buildup.
---
There was a clatter as Samuel blinked in, falling into a bookcase and supporting himself against it with one arm. He growled through his teeth, spitting several times to clear a bad taste from his mouth. He looked exhausted and he pulled himself straight, brushing off the simple t-shirt and jeans he wore. Ice chips fell to the ground.
"Gee House," he muttered. "You could have left the ice back there at least."
He was wet, but at least he wasn't cold. His fingers still felt stiff, but they were unthawing now.
Looking around, he waited to see if anyone else was going to appear.
Sherlock blinked in, his instrument held in one hand and bow in the other, moving it along the strings. The playing only stopped when he seemed to deem it something he wanted. He lowered the instrument, looking over at Samuel. There was no one else in the room, but he seemed to be picking ice chips off his sleeve. The detective noted that he must have been ankle deep in snow - at least - considering the varying patterns of snow against his pants. "Hello," he greeted.
Samuel looked up, having already realized Sherlock had blinked in. "Hello," he returned. "That's nice music." It was more a statement to be polite then anything.
He'd finished removing ice chips, though everything seemed wet, sticking to his body. While other planets could be interesting, he didn't like pushing through ice. He pushed hair away from his eyes before his attention moved around the living room. Was anyone else going to blink in? He didn't have anything to talk about, much less ask Sherlock about.
Leaning against the back of the couch, Sherlock waited for Samuel to finish. This wasn't out of politeness. He just had nothing useful to say, other than the pleasantry of asking how he'd been - or where.
"Room?" suggested Samuel, after Sherlock didn't seem like he wanted to put in anything. The vampire didn't intend to wait anyway, so he walked toward the hallway.
His footsteps still crunched a little and he had to be careful not to slip on the puddles his shoes were leaving.
The hallways was the same as always. Even if Sherlock didn't follow then at least Sam was confident that he could handle a room without too much trouble. A hand rested on one of the first doors and he pushed down on the handles.
There really was no reason to refuse, so Sherlock left the instrument on the couch and hoped it would blink out with him. Then he followed Sam into the hallway in time to catch the door he'd opened, just before it closed. The detective was a bit offended the boy hadn't waited, but he continued after him.
Inside the room, the ground was a chalky grey color, while around the world was equally colorless. Samuel was the only spot of color, directly ahead of the detective.
Samuel looked back when Sherlock entered the colorless room. The detective probably wouldn't be able to understand, but it wasn't just colorless. Samuel couldn't smell anything from it either. There were things that looked like colorless trees - really, it looked like they were in a park. But the trees had no details on them and the floor below his feet could have been concrete. But there were no flaws or variation in the colors.
"Odd," said the vampire, glancing at the grey sky with its stationary grey clouds. "What do you think?"
"I can't tell," admitted Sherlock. He looked around the room again. He'd noticed the same thing that Samuel had. There seemed to be a lot to the room - but a lot more of it was missing. There was a lot to see into the distance, but there were no details. There was no scent and hardly any feeling under his shoes. There had to be some trick to the room, of course. A way to get out, of course there was that as well, but it wouldn't be what they expected. And what he expected was something to do with the lack of color.
"Do you want to know something?" asked Sam. He pointed around. "No sound but us. No smell but you and me. Even the feelings of the room are dulled." He walked over to the nearest tree, feeling along what was supposed to be the bark. His fingers hardly felt any difference in texture.
"I don't get it. There doesn't seem to be much to the room." If they walked around, would there be some difference?
Samuel breathed out, shaking out his pant leg. A couple drops of water dripped onto the ground. Like everything else, it just showed no color, though he had no idea if that was because it was clear or because it had changed to match the area. "Should we try and find anything in color?" he asked. Apparently, he was thinking along the expected line of thought which Sherlock had already rejected as too easy.
Despite the fact that the detective didn't believe the color to the room would effect much, he was stuck for other ideas. Instead, he pointed in a direction. Usually, the House let them run into a hint sooner or later. He wanted to figure this room out without one, but he would settle for moving onward.
Stepping forward, he passed over what might have been a path in the park. There was a bench - in lighter tones of grey - beside it. There wasn't much to the world, but Samuel was correct. Even though this looked like a park, there were no animals or even real life. No grass, no trees that were truly more than lifeless blocks. If there was going to be color in this world, he hadn't seen it yet.
Samuel sped up, his feet hitting against the floor with the only sound in the room. It didn't sound right either. Not the sound of grass, but more like concrete.
Keeping up with Sherlock was easy. But that might just have been because he was a vampire.
They both walked for several long minutes. Nothing changed, though an equally lifeless city was beginning to turn up in front of them. Samuel's eyebrows rose and he was about to point it out to Sherlock when there was a sound in the sky. Wind? The sound of something loud moving.
Sherlock looked up, hearing it as well. He tensed, prepared for something to happen. That's what happened in more rooms.
What he saw, however, surprised him. Which was rare.
It was a large ... stick. Which did include color, from the point to the brush on the end.
"Ah," said Sherlock, looking up. "I get it now." The shadow that the paint brush cast was pretty impressive.
Sam reached out, gripping at Sherlock coat. "Yes, yes. Move now, before it comes this way."
He pulled, and because he was a vampire, the coat started to rip before he got Sherlock to move. But he started to dart away as the paint brush started to fill in some green on grass near them. Sam couldn't see any giant hand steering it, but this was worrying enough.
Sherlock moved after Samuel, mentally complaining about the coat. He would have moved without the boy's help!
But that aside, he was moving. He had no idea how they were going to get out of that room, not completely, but he'd started to come up with something.
Maybe it did involve color after all.
The paint brush was following them. Sherlock rushed ahead of Samuel. "Follow me," he said. After over a dozen yards, he took a sharp turn to the left.
Eyes widening, but not seeing a better option, Samuel did just that. The paint brush still followed them, spreading green across the ground. This world started to remind Samuel of painting on clay, now that he was running. Or a paint by numbers, though he hadn't seen any numbers yet.
He would have continued running forward, but he caught Sherlock's tight left before he overshot and lost the detective.
One, two, three, four ... thought Sherlock. He had to time this and hope he was right. That brush was the only thing in color right now, apart from them. It was a very obvious hint.
He kept running for another dozen yards, the paint brush still following. He hardly dared looking back, but he had to.
It wasn't running out of paint at all. This was going to be close.
"Left again!" he informed Sam, taking another sharp left. A shorter amount of time passed in this stretch, and here he grabbed Samuel, pulled him sharply in the direction he wanted the boy to go.
Being pulled around wasn't pleasant for Samuel, but he did have a bit more freedom to look back. The paint brush had followed them pretty closely. That puzzled him.
A paint by numbers. But that didn't have different shades of grey and white. Something seemed familiar, especially with the jerking way the paintbrush followed them. Which wasn't running out of paint, no matter how much it had covered already. The line looked weird as well - too straight and un-paint-like - but he didn't get a chance to say anything because Sherlock was still pulling him.
Sherlock grabbed Samuel's arm again. They'd almost doubled back on the same line of green. He just hoped he was right in his understanding of this room.
"Roll," he said, pushing Samuel just before they ran into the old green line. He followed the boy, ducking away from paint brush that then connected with the previous green line.
And stopped moving.
Sherlock remained tense, looking at it. Between one blink of his eyes and the next, the paint brush was replaced with a large paint bucket full of green paint. It tipped dangerously over them and Sherlock ducked his head, hoping Sam would as well.
And Sam did just that, covering his hair and head. If he'd thought he'd been wet before, this changed. He was soaked, covered in green, a second later. When he felt the onslaught end, he looked up, carefully cracking open his eyes. Spitting out paint, he asked, "What was that?" The paint brush had disappeared, but the paint bucket seemed to be attacking a nearby grey tree. It didn't seem to be having as much luck as their makeshift square. Paint got onto the truck, and suddenly the bucket was a giant eraser and the paint was gone.
Sam gaped. "Oooh!" he finally said, realizing why the line of paint had looked weird. "We're on a computer painting program!" A cheep and old one, very probably.
Sherlock uncurled and resisted the urge to swallow whatever was in his mouth. "Yes," he said, scowling to himself. "And if we wait around, we might get out when that thing finishes painting everything. I'm not leaving this place until then. It might come back to see why some spaces were we were aren't green." He pointed at where Samuel's body had blocked the paint.
Samuel couldn't really disagree. They'd nearly been crushed by a paint brush. He crossed his legs, looking around the room. And picking drying paint of his sleeve. At least watching paint dry in a room might be fun? Maybe?
Ver Million
You're always asking how people are and it might not seem much. I mentioned this before, but it needed to be said again. It does mean a lot to me to see someone care enough to check up on everyone. :')
You requested a story! I choice Duck and Samuel for this little show.
---
There was a 'quack' and a duck appeared in the living room.
Sam was glad for the distraction, but he couldn't really understand how this was one.
Had the duck blinked?
He removed his feet from the coffee table and the drawing pad from his lap, setting it down. He'd blinked in with his watercolor set. Complete watercolor set, which he found interesting, but not particularly noteworthy. He'd just been doodling aliens. Were they aliens if you were currently traveling around in a space ship and hadn't seen modern-day earth in about a year? It was a tough call.
"Er," he said to the duck, which, if was possible, looked at him with annoyance.
Was it an intelligent duck? Could it talk?
"Hello?" he questioned, leaning forward. It was a young duck. He at least knew that much. It looked at him, shuffled its feathers a little, and quacked again.
He'd heard cat-foxes speak and dogs speak and dragons speak. He didn't see why a duck wouldn't. But it wasn't, so he wondered if it was someone's pet. Could pets blink in? Or maybe it was a magical item that just looked like a duck? Or maybe it was a blinker, but just couldn't talk?
Or if it was a monster, then he was sticking his nose far too close to it for safety's sake.
"Er ..." he said again. "If you can understand me, can you ... hop up and down once?"
The duck flapped its small wings, but it did hop. Sam blinked, impressed. So ... it could probably understand him.
"Are you a blinker?" he asked. Then added, "One wing flap for yes, two for no?"
He waited and got one flap of the wings. Good, good. They were getting somewhere.
"What's your name?" he asked, then realized that wasn't a yes or no question. "Scratch that. Are you a duck?"
No real answer. The duck just looked at him and Sam could practically see the answer in its eyes: 'No? Duh mister? Say another joke and maybe I'll laugh'.
"Okay," he said again. "I'll ... try and not ask stupid questions." The duck walked away from him, nearer to the coffee table, and seemed to loose interest in him.
It jumped several times, not making it very high, and then looked back at Samuel. Samuel wondered what he was missing. All that was on the coffee table was his paint, water, and bushes.
"Do you want my paint brushes?" he asked. The duck blinked, waited, and then flapped its wings twice.
"Paint?" Sam hazarded. Maybe to draw something?
Two flaps.
"Water?" he asked, feeling a bit desperate. That only left the paper.
But the duck quacked several times and jumped up and down. It flapped its wings several times, excited.
"But ..." said the vampire. "It's dirty! You can't drink it."
He got the 'are you stupid' look again.
"Okay, okay," he said again and reached out, setting the container of water down. It was too high for the duck to reach the top anyway, but it didn't seem to mind. Sam watched in worry as it tipped over the container, getting muddy black paint water all over the floor. "Watch it -" he started. But something else happened and he gaped.
The duck was gone. In its place was a rather wet girl.
Who gave him a bright look, no longer the 'are you stupid' look. "Thanks! My name is Duck!"
It was Sam's turn to give her an 'Oh? Duh?' look.
phantomstar57
Wow. You're just ... the life and soul of the WFF, Phantom. I love seeing you around and suggesting ways to improve things and keeping an interest in us all. And I love your New Blood series dearly. It's great seeing the world grow and expand and this latest story was just so heartwarming. I really do enjoy you being here.
I drew Kyestorm!
---
Maplestone360
What can I say? You're great and I love having you around. <3 Your stories are all great and I am always so impressed with how you continue to make such lovely works. And your art? Well ... speechless. Thank you for Rattlesnake and Dream, once again!
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broken
<3 I hope this next year is better for you and I'm sorry that school went badly. I hope you gain more time for yourself and peace of mind.
I painted Noe for you.
---
HᥲꙆƒꙆɩɠᖾt
I still love Myrnin and 7S interactions so much. Thank you for all your help in-RP this year and I hope your life is going well.
---
The House had a habit of making things easy sometimes and other times downright impossible. Today, it seemed to be favoring Myrnin because he blinked in with pictures and 7S turned up a second later.
Myrnin bounced around her, excited and clapped his hands. She turned her head to watch him, seeming slightly amused.
"Hello Myrnin."
Myrnin bit his lip, calming down a little, and came to a halt before he circled his friend any more times. "Hello 7S," he greeted. He was grinning like the madman he was. "Guess what, guess what, guess what?"
7S waited until the 'guess whats' had petered out before she said, "What?"
Myrnin rummaged around in his pockets - which he had a lot of - and pulled out a stack of old polaroid camera photos. "I stole them from Aurelia - a not-friend of mine - so I thought these would be good?" They were actually rather recent pictures, including him and some of the Goldmans. Which were the family that Aurelia was a part of. Though he wasn't sure if the people would interest her, there were several shots of the house and it included the technology of his times. So he figured that would interest her.
7S took the photos and as far as Myrnin got, she was looking at them. But for all he knew, she was scanning them.
"What do you think?" he asked after a little, still grinning. 7S looked up and seemed, to the vampire, to be pleased. "They're great. Can you tell me about this?"
She pointed at some of the pictures. Myrnin looked at it, eyes roving over the picture. "Ooooooh! That's the laundry room. This ..." He pointed to what was around the room, explaining what everything was in Myrnin fashion. This meant the drier was called: 'makes a woooosh sound, spins the clothes around until they get dizzy, and then I don't know ... they have a cat now, so maybe the cat goes and makes a nest in there. If you sit on it, Theo glares at you a bit.'
And it went on.
When he was done, his grin widened a bit more. "So ... did I win?" Since they were trying to come up with who could get the most amount of pictures.
7S chuckled and shook her head. Pictures began to play over the wall as she pointed to them. Maybe of where she was now. Myrnin crossed his legs as he sat on the couch, clapping his hands in interest.
"Better than a laundry room," he agreed.
Lark
Something wise I once heard told me some advise and that advise is the reason I can call you friend. It's interesting how many times I'm enjoying our interactions these days. It's lovely seeing your witty remarks and your humor is honestly such a breath of fresh air - even if I'm currently choking on water and crying with laughter, but you get my point.
As per your request, I wrote about Maladict and Dipper.
---
Maladict blinked into the room and at once started sinking.
"What in the Duchess' name?" he exclaimed, trying to paddle his way out of ... sand.
"Don't move!" said another voice and Maladict completely froze. His uniform was getting completely ruined. He did not want to explain that to the Lieutenant. But right now, he was a bit concerned about the fact he was now waste deep in wet sand. He looked around, trying to spot the voice, but having no luck. It had sounded young.
"I - I ..." said the voice and at least Maladict could tell where the voice was coming from. "I think you're supposed to try and float?" The voice was very hesitant. "It's quicksand."
Which told Maladict nothing. He'd never heard of quicksand in his life. So with that, he just payed attention to the first part. He didn't fancy the chances for that. His legs weren't that deep in, but he couldn't move them out. He gritted his teeth, bending backwards. At this point, it honestly might have just been better to dust him. But getting his ashes to properly collect wouldn't be a good idea.
"Eeeerg," he muttered. "I hate this."
The voice wasn't saying much, but there was nervous humming. Maladict sunk a couple more inches. The 'floating' idea wasn't working.
"I," said the vampire, though hesitating. "Think I might try something." He didn't like it. And he didn't like it for one clear reason.
His body warped, and the wet sand couldn't keep up with the swiftly shifting body. For a second, Maladict was a flapping, disgruntled magpie which spiraled away in short dips of its wings, before collapsing - human shaped again, and clutching his head. A deep, resounding headache pounded through his skull. A large human becoming a small bird wasn't strictly possible, but he could still do it. It was the other part he disliked. He couldn't conjure up clothing, not like the others. But he noticed something ... different as he opened his eyes.To his amazement, the same uniform he'd been wearing before had appeared on him again. Well, everything really, not just the red and white uniform. He ran a hand over the lapel and even the black ribbon pinned to his breast pocket. And gaped. "What in the ...?" he said. But then he shook his head. He probably shouldn't question.
He looked around. The room was ... impressive. And by impressive, the vampire meant deadly. There was a bear trap around there somewhere ... and one of those where you stepped into the lope and you were jerked up by your ankle. And cages and barbed wire and other things that Maladict didn't know about but didn't want to run into.
Maybe he should have stayed a magpie.
"Hello?" he asked, turning slowly and careful not to fall into the sand again. Then he looked up. The voice had sounded like it was coming from an adult's head height, but apparently there was another reason for that.
The boy might have been in his tweens. And he was spinning in a slow circle, face red, so Maladict couldn't really get a good look at him.
"I'll ... get you down from there," said the vampire, picking his way around the edge of the sand.
"Thanks," said the boy with a huffing exhale of breath. Maladict studied this trap and carefully picked his way around it. When he was close enough, he unsheathed his sword. "This may hurt a bit," he admitted. The boy's eyes got wide, but it was already too late and the rope which was keeping him suspended was cut.
The boy landed on his arms and partly on his head. "Sorry!" admitted Maladict. He sheathed his sword and then reached down, helping the boy to his feet. His face was still very red. "Thanks for the help."
"N-no problem," wheezed the boy. He rubbed at the bruises that were forming on his elbow.
"Maladict," introduced the vampire. "Who are you?"
"Dipper Pines," said Dipper, looking a bit less red around the face.
"Nice to meet you," said the soldier. "Now ... do you see a way out of here? Before something with metal teeth catches one of our legs?"
Auransky
Gaaaaaaaaah, you're awesome! I love plot talking with you so much, and hearing about your characters so much, and the fact you keep dragging me into your fandoms is infuriating but there we go!
Thanks for helping so much with Percival! He wouldn't be the person he is today without all the help with the RPs. And I'm so glad to see you enjoying TPH. Thanks!
Yes, yes. You said not to make anything. Well, what I made doesn't look good enough to me, so I still IOU for your birthday. XD
---
strider
Oh gosh. What can I say? You are honestly ... just ... :') eeeeerg. I appreciate you so much. You are so, so nice and I look forward to you messages and I love talking with you so much. Your singing is lovely, please never forget that. Never, ever, ever forget your dreams, because boy do you have the talent and skill to meet them. Maybe you can't see it now, but I can see you doing great and exciting things. I'm always here - as I've said - but I just ... I feel so great that we've been good friends for at least a year now. My nickname - the first one I've ever had that wasn't directly off my name - is so treasured and you are one of my best friends. Thank you for this year. It's taught me a lot and brought me a lot of joy and laughter.
Here's Crutchie!
---
Now, not all of you still visit the forums very often or at all anymore. But I tried to either send this link to all of you or the message/art itself. Just about all of you were sent a list of mediums to pick from and most of you chose without asking what it was for. Well, here are the results!
Also, if you aren't hear, I'm so, so sorry. I really tried to make a gift for everyone and I really, really don't want to have missed anyone. So, please, if I missed you, tell me. I might have mixed up your name on the list. @.@
In order of gift list:
Katanaheart
I sent you a list to pick from and you picked Story. So I wrote a story about The Lighthouse. The Lighthouse has been a great story for me to read to and from school and I've looked forward to each new episode. Figuring out the puzzles - or failing to - has been a great joy.
I love talking to you and want you to know that you have been a wonderful person to plot with. Hearing about your journey has been a highlight of this year. Please don't ever give up on being you!
---
Rain fell around the lighthouse in pounding sheets, making the mud run outside and the walls slick. It pattered into cracks and dripped down the lines the lighthouse was made on.
As the night progressed, the storm grew colder and the rain was interspersed with scatterings of snow and sleet. In the lighthouse, it was completely quiet, even in the constantly shifting halls and impossible locations. The water was still, the garden was silent. The world held its breath within the walls.
And outside, the wind blew snow against the roof.
A cat looked at it from a distance, tail flicking over the soaked stones under paw. The lapping water of the sea and the darkness around them was useless when it came to making the storm easier. It might have been pretty to watch, from the inside, but the cat would never willingly enter the lighthouse several dozen tree-lengths away.
Their nose wrinkled up in distaste, though it didn't seem like they cared too much about the wind and wet. Their eyes, instead, were focused. The light on the top of the light how spun, piercing the darkness. It was only one its dozen rotation or so that the cat stood. They turned, walking in another direction. Away from the lighthouse.
It was, they thought. A shame. A shame it couldn't burn down to its foundations. That any snow that fell might as well be covered in blood.
Maybe this Cycle it would end, but they held no hope for that.
They jumped down to another set of rocks, their gray pelt getting dusted with damp flakes of white. Sleet dripped down their ears, brushing against their eyes. The cat only paused to shake out their fur. It was disgusting. And not the weather. They didn't care much about the weather. It wasn't harming them. No, what harmed them was the thought that they were this useless.
Some of the others could move, they could have some control. But not them. They were confined to inaction.
Another rock was jumped to, until the dangerous black waters were nearer to them. The white flakes and rain disappeared into its expanse.
The muscles of the cat bunched. Tonight, perhaps? Perhaps tonight, there would be some purpose. Maybe the storm would change something. Maybe whatever powers-that-be could make this life different?
They jumped. Paws reached for the crashing water. But the cat never got to see the distant waves reach them. There was a tug at their spine, the world spinning ... and then they were back on the rocks again, flakes of snow falling around them, rain dripping down their pelt.
Through their pelt.
Nothing changed. Still a spirit, still confined to the place that was a curse.
The cat looked up into the sky about, the storm and the snow and the patterns of flakes in the sky.
"StarClan," they breathed into the sky without a star to guide them. "If you could see your way to bury this place in snow ... so they never find it again."
Their attention turned to the ground again.
"So they never find me ..."
Numquam
I know we haven't know each other long or often interacted, but you are a wonderful person and I want to get to know you better. Your posts are wonderfully written and you're personality is something to be treasured. I hope you like this gift. You requested watercolor and I did my best to capture an OC I have never drawn before. <3 Please continue to be my friend into the next year.
---
Sησω
I really wanted to give you art of one of my favorite characters of yours. Vanta is very cute and I'm looking forward to what you do with him in the future. I picked black card stalk because I wanted to draw the light instead of shading. Thank you for joining TPH. It's been a lot of fun and I can't wait to see your improvement and strides in the future! <3
---
Shadepelt15
Years been wild, right? But I've liked it none the less. Chatting with you late and night has been great and talking to you and Des has been awesome. I drew Shade, of course, but I tried some blue color accent. It's been great planning things with you and thanks for always returning my messages, even when I know you're busy. ^^ I hope the future looks bright.
---
»ƑαƖcση
Misspelling 'merry' as 'marry' was very humorous, so I kept it. Thanks for sticking around for my Arthur plot ramblings. I hope this next year brings you more time for the simple joys in life and that you can continue to expand your horizons.
---
Cloverleaf
Lately we've been talking more and I've never regretted it. There have been some late nights on both ends, but they've been great. Hearing your insight and spirit is amazing. You are a very bright fire and your energy is something to be looked up to. Thank you for listening to all my ramblings - and laughing with me - about things that no one has found funny. Your positive voice is just amazing and I can't express how great it is that we all have you.
---
Iceclaw
Seeing you late at night is sadly a common thing now. But I still appreciate you talking to the girl in the past - sometimes in more ways then one. Thank you for being there and thank you for helping me through English. <3 I drew Kid and Rex after getting dunked in the lake. I said it would just be the SS art.
---
<Raintalon>
Thank you for so much fun and being a good friend. <3 Your input is always appreciated and thanks for putting up with my excited Myrnin lore at odd hours. Your continued support keeps me going and I look forward to seeing where are little mad genius trio goes.
---
Brownie
Thanks for all the love, Brownie. <3 You're still so nice to me and I hope your life is going well.
---
Tidestripe
Your energy is still great to see. Never stop loving things the way you do!
---
Stranger Things
I still can't go a day without laughing or smiling about something you've said or that we've RPed. :') Please continue being the person you are.
---
Owlmoon
Your continued support of me is so very helpful. <3 I miss you sometimes, but I hope you're life is treating you well.
---
--cato phoenix
Thank you for all your help and support and thank you, thank you for always being vampire kat. XD It's so nice to have you around despite my living-in-the-past life.
I drew Vyra because I don't pick on her enough. This was a joke picture about her mile long hair that would grow every time you drew it.
---
ᴛᴜᴇsᴅᴀʏ
My favorite named-after-a-day forumer. <3 Thank you for being one of my supportive friends and still hanging around. I miss you, if I'm honest, and that we don't get more time together.
This is art for Way of the Wolf. Now, I know it looks a bit blended between the cat and the wolf, but that was intended.
---
» ѕнαdσω ⚔️
Still a calico and forever one. I told you the gift was early. XD But there's still Cursedmas. But that aside, thank youuuuuuu! You're so special to me and I know this year has been so hard, but I need you to know that I love and care about you. You are the best and I hope this next year is so much better for you. <3
---
Leapkit
I still want to RP with you and I haven't given up yet, I promise! You've been great this year. You've taught me a lot, believe it or not, and I'm going to keep it to help me next year. Thank you for always offering to be there for me, but never give it a second thought of talking to me.
I drew Fletcher this time, because it's been a long time and I wanted to try my hand again. I hope that it looks good. <3 Please have a better next year than this year. Aim for the stars, because you deserve them.
---
dawn
I've never drawn your cat OC, so it was high time I did so!
Recently I got to talk to you and that was honestly awesome. I'm very pleased with the amount of time I've gotten to interact with you this year and I hope next year can be more so!
---
🍁Searipple101🍁
I have loved watching you grow as a writing so much! You are infinitely patient with me and I don't deserve that, but I thank so much for it. Your stories are always so wonderfully displayed and I can't wait to see what's in your future. You are so nice and, just ... thank you. *hugs*
---
🎃❅❖.Şp໐໐kฯຟiຖ໓.❖❅🎃
Thank you for all your kind words and wonderful art! Never give it up and I can't wait to see the improvement in your future! I said I'd draw a certain someone.
---
Dingoleap
AAAAAAAAAAH What can I say? What can I say? Amazing author, wonderful friend, impeccable taste in ... everything! Perhaps my only complaint is that there's a computer screen in the way of me hugging you. Does that count?
I made a playlist for you. If you don't have the site, please say and I'll copy the list. The aim of the playlist was for your fic, but I also hoped you'd like the songs as well, ha ha.
---
tiger beetle
Reading about your day is quite awesome, truly. And you are a wonderful artist and I look forward to hearing from you so much. Thank you for supporting PtS! It means the world to me.
Now, there was a slight mix up with your art. You requested colored pen, but directly below you on the list was a request for colored pencil. So IOU one colored pen art. Until then, here's 'Glass' from Broken Glass and some fun collars.
---
𝓓𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓱 𝓑𝓻𝓪𝓶𝓫𝓵𝓮
Honey, I will say until someone tells me to shut up, but you are such a great person. You are always helping me out and always there to talk and that's just something so rare these days. Please have a good December and keep smiling.
---
EthanTheAnnus
Too be honest, seeing you rant about IW after it being out so long is very cute. And I've loved watching your art grow and change with you along with it. You're a good person. I'm looking forward to continuing to know you.
---
Mosspool
Thanks for continuing to let me talk about books into you're ear so much. <3 It's very awesome. I hope that your next year goes well and that you get all you want.
You're welcome to take this picture however you like!
---
~∂єѕтιиу
I hope you're doing okay! I miss you!
Have a Hook-hook with interesting colors.
---
Kuragehime
You asked for colored pencil. You got a cat on a ski slope. Of course!
Thanks for hanging out with me and entertaining my wild schemes like - well - all of them. I love seeing you and I love all the suggestions I get from you even more. Happy holidays!
---
Nightwisher
Yes. It's another joke piece of art. Thank for playing Mint's art lotto. But that aside, thanks for the fun, Wisher. XD Shilo is a great kid. Looking forward to getting to know you better as we go!
---
Razzle Dazzle
You are ... just great. You are very nice to me and I just don't have words to express how much seeing you around brings me joy. :'D
---
Darkshine Laufeyson-Barnes
Heeeeeeeeeeeeey! I know this year has been busy and more for you. <3 I just hope the next one treats you better. Thank you for still talking to me and I hope that wont change! You're still a great person - why? you thought that had changed? - and I love hearing from you whenever you have time.
---
~Sapphire~
How are you still here? I'd have thought you would have gotten bored of everywhere we go ending up as a chatroom. And the fact that our PM is three years and still going. It's amazing. I knew you from your first fic and look at you now! I'm just ... speechless. Thank you so much for still being here and great and ... *tackle hugs*
---
𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛
Wow. Wow. And Wow. Hello! Look! XD It's the holidays! Where do I even start?
It's awesome fun having you, Dia, and Hime all talking with me and it's just ... I need to look up more words for awesome. I really love it.
I did a spark crackling fire and I really like how it turned out.
---
®Hawkpath®
My gosh. Watching my characters grow up along side yours has been really great and I ... as it gets later I run out of words, but I really have to say that you're still someone I look forward to talking to so much.
I wrote about Samuel and Sherlock, for varying reasons. It is also the longest story because ... buildup.
---
There was a clatter as Samuel blinked in, falling into a bookcase and supporting himself against it with one arm. He growled through his teeth, spitting several times to clear a bad taste from his mouth. He looked exhausted and he pulled himself straight, brushing off the simple t-shirt and jeans he wore. Ice chips fell to the ground.
"Gee House," he muttered. "You could have left the ice back there at least."
He was wet, but at least he wasn't cold. His fingers still felt stiff, but they were unthawing now.
Looking around, he waited to see if anyone else was going to appear.
Sherlock blinked in, his instrument held in one hand and bow in the other, moving it along the strings. The playing only stopped when he seemed to deem it something he wanted. He lowered the instrument, looking over at Samuel. There was no one else in the room, but he seemed to be picking ice chips off his sleeve. The detective noted that he must have been ankle deep in snow - at least - considering the varying patterns of snow against his pants. "Hello," he greeted.
Samuel looked up, having already realized Sherlock had blinked in. "Hello," he returned. "That's nice music." It was more a statement to be polite then anything.
He'd finished removing ice chips, though everything seemed wet, sticking to his body. While other planets could be interesting, he didn't like pushing through ice. He pushed hair away from his eyes before his attention moved around the living room. Was anyone else going to blink in? He didn't have anything to talk about, much less ask Sherlock about.
Leaning against the back of the couch, Sherlock waited for Samuel to finish. This wasn't out of politeness. He just had nothing useful to say, other than the pleasantry of asking how he'd been - or where.
"Room?" suggested Samuel, after Sherlock didn't seem like he wanted to put in anything. The vampire didn't intend to wait anyway, so he walked toward the hallway.
His footsteps still crunched a little and he had to be careful not to slip on the puddles his shoes were leaving.
The hallways was the same as always. Even if Sherlock didn't follow then at least Sam was confident that he could handle a room without too much trouble. A hand rested on one of the first doors and he pushed down on the handles.
There really was no reason to refuse, so Sherlock left the instrument on the couch and hoped it would blink out with him. Then he followed Sam into the hallway in time to catch the door he'd opened, just before it closed. The detective was a bit offended the boy hadn't waited, but he continued after him.
Inside the room, the ground was a chalky grey color, while around the world was equally colorless. Samuel was the only spot of color, directly ahead of the detective.
Samuel looked back when Sherlock entered the colorless room. The detective probably wouldn't be able to understand, but it wasn't just colorless. Samuel couldn't smell anything from it either. There were things that looked like colorless trees - really, it looked like they were in a park. But the trees had no details on them and the floor below his feet could have been concrete. But there were no flaws or variation in the colors.
"Odd," said the vampire, glancing at the grey sky with its stationary grey clouds. "What do you think?"
"I can't tell," admitted Sherlock. He looked around the room again. He'd noticed the same thing that Samuel had. There seemed to be a lot to the room - but a lot more of it was missing. There was a lot to see into the distance, but there were no details. There was no scent and hardly any feeling under his shoes. There had to be some trick to the room, of course. A way to get out, of course there was that as well, but it wouldn't be what they expected. And what he expected was something to do with the lack of color.
"Do you want to know something?" asked Sam. He pointed around. "No sound but us. No smell but you and me. Even the feelings of the room are dulled." He walked over to the nearest tree, feeling along what was supposed to be the bark. His fingers hardly felt any difference in texture.
"I don't get it. There doesn't seem to be much to the room." If they walked around, would there be some difference?
Samuel breathed out, shaking out his pant leg. A couple drops of water dripped onto the ground. Like everything else, it just showed no color, though he had no idea if that was because it was clear or because it had changed to match the area. "Should we try and find anything in color?" he asked. Apparently, he was thinking along the expected line of thought which Sherlock had already rejected as too easy.
Despite the fact that the detective didn't believe the color to the room would effect much, he was stuck for other ideas. Instead, he pointed in a direction. Usually, the House let them run into a hint sooner or later. He wanted to figure this room out without one, but he would settle for moving onward.
Stepping forward, he passed over what might have been a path in the park. There was a bench - in lighter tones of grey - beside it. There wasn't much to the world, but Samuel was correct. Even though this looked like a park, there were no animals or even real life. No grass, no trees that were truly more than lifeless blocks. If there was going to be color in this world, he hadn't seen it yet.
Samuel sped up, his feet hitting against the floor with the only sound in the room. It didn't sound right either. Not the sound of grass, but more like concrete.
Keeping up with Sherlock was easy. But that might just have been because he was a vampire.
They both walked for several long minutes. Nothing changed, though an equally lifeless city was beginning to turn up in front of them. Samuel's eyebrows rose and he was about to point it out to Sherlock when there was a sound in the sky. Wind? The sound of something loud moving.
Sherlock looked up, hearing it as well. He tensed, prepared for something to happen. That's what happened in more rooms.
What he saw, however, surprised him. Which was rare.
It was a large ... stick. Which did include color, from the point to the brush on the end.
"Ah," said Sherlock, looking up. "I get it now." The shadow that the paint brush cast was pretty impressive.
Sam reached out, gripping at Sherlock coat. "Yes, yes. Move now, before it comes this way."
He pulled, and because he was a vampire, the coat started to rip before he got Sherlock to move. But he started to dart away as the paint brush started to fill in some green on grass near them. Sam couldn't see any giant hand steering it, but this was worrying enough.
Sherlock moved after Samuel, mentally complaining about the coat. He would have moved without the boy's help!
But that aside, he was moving. He had no idea how they were going to get out of that room, not completely, but he'd started to come up with something.
Maybe it did involve color after all.
The paint brush was following them. Sherlock rushed ahead of Samuel. "Follow me," he said. After over a dozen yards, he took a sharp turn to the left.
Eyes widening, but not seeing a better option, Samuel did just that. The paint brush still followed them, spreading green across the ground. This world started to remind Samuel of painting on clay, now that he was running. Or a paint by numbers, though he hadn't seen any numbers yet.
He would have continued running forward, but he caught Sherlock's tight left before he overshot and lost the detective.
One, two, three, four ... thought Sherlock. He had to time this and hope he was right. That brush was the only thing in color right now, apart from them. It was a very obvious hint.
He kept running for another dozen yards, the paint brush still following. He hardly dared looking back, but he had to.
It wasn't running out of paint at all. This was going to be close.
"Left again!" he informed Sam, taking another sharp left. A shorter amount of time passed in this stretch, and here he grabbed Samuel, pulled him sharply in the direction he wanted the boy to go.
Being pulled around wasn't pleasant for Samuel, but he did have a bit more freedom to look back. The paint brush had followed them pretty closely. That puzzled him.
A paint by numbers. But that didn't have different shades of grey and white. Something seemed familiar, especially with the jerking way the paintbrush followed them. Which wasn't running out of paint, no matter how much it had covered already. The line looked weird as well - too straight and un-paint-like - but he didn't get a chance to say anything because Sherlock was still pulling him.
Sherlock grabbed Samuel's arm again. They'd almost doubled back on the same line of green. He just hoped he was right in his understanding of this room.
"Roll," he said, pushing Samuel just before they ran into the old green line. He followed the boy, ducking away from paint brush that then connected with the previous green line.
And stopped moving.
Sherlock remained tense, looking at it. Between one blink of his eyes and the next, the paint brush was replaced with a large paint bucket full of green paint. It tipped dangerously over them and Sherlock ducked his head, hoping Sam would as well.
And Sam did just that, covering his hair and head. If he'd thought he'd been wet before, this changed. He was soaked, covered in green, a second later. When he felt the onslaught end, he looked up, carefully cracking open his eyes. Spitting out paint, he asked, "What was that?" The paint brush had disappeared, but the paint bucket seemed to be attacking a nearby grey tree. It didn't seem to be having as much luck as their makeshift square. Paint got onto the truck, and suddenly the bucket was a giant eraser and the paint was gone.
Sam gaped. "Oooh!" he finally said, realizing why the line of paint had looked weird. "We're on a computer painting program!" A cheep and old one, very probably.
Sherlock uncurled and resisted the urge to swallow whatever was in his mouth. "Yes," he said, scowling to himself. "And if we wait around, we might get out when that thing finishes painting everything. I'm not leaving this place until then. It might come back to see why some spaces were we were aren't green." He pointed at where Samuel's body had blocked the paint.
Samuel couldn't really disagree. They'd nearly been crushed by a paint brush. He crossed his legs, looking around the room. And picking drying paint of his sleeve. At least watching paint dry in a room might be fun? Maybe?
Ver Million
You're always asking how people are and it might not seem much. I mentioned this before, but it needed to be said again. It does mean a lot to me to see someone care enough to check up on everyone. :')
You requested a story! I choice Duck and Samuel for this little show.
---
There was a 'quack' and a duck appeared in the living room.
Sam was glad for the distraction, but he couldn't really understand how this was one.
Had the duck blinked?
He removed his feet from the coffee table and the drawing pad from his lap, setting it down. He'd blinked in with his watercolor set. Complete watercolor set, which he found interesting, but not particularly noteworthy. He'd just been doodling aliens. Were they aliens if you were currently traveling around in a space ship and hadn't seen modern-day earth in about a year? It was a tough call.
"Er," he said to the duck, which, if was possible, looked at him with annoyance.
Was it an intelligent duck? Could it talk?
"Hello?" he questioned, leaning forward. It was a young duck. He at least knew that much. It looked at him, shuffled its feathers a little, and quacked again.
He'd heard cat-foxes speak and dogs speak and dragons speak. He didn't see why a duck wouldn't. But it wasn't, so he wondered if it was someone's pet. Could pets blink in? Or maybe it was a magical item that just looked like a duck? Or maybe it was a blinker, but just couldn't talk?
Or if it was a monster, then he was sticking his nose far too close to it for safety's sake.
"Er ..." he said again. "If you can understand me, can you ... hop up and down once?"
The duck flapped its small wings, but it did hop. Sam blinked, impressed. So ... it could probably understand him.
"Are you a blinker?" he asked. Then added, "One wing flap for yes, two for no?"
He waited and got one flap of the wings. Good, good. They were getting somewhere.
"What's your name?" he asked, then realized that wasn't a yes or no question. "Scratch that. Are you a duck?"
No real answer. The duck just looked at him and Sam could practically see the answer in its eyes: 'No? Duh mister? Say another joke and maybe I'll laugh'.
"Okay," he said again. "I'll ... try and not ask stupid questions." The duck walked away from him, nearer to the coffee table, and seemed to loose interest in him.
It jumped several times, not making it very high, and then looked back at Samuel. Samuel wondered what he was missing. All that was on the coffee table was his paint, water, and bushes.
"Do you want my paint brushes?" he asked. The duck blinked, waited, and then flapped its wings twice.
"Paint?" Sam hazarded. Maybe to draw something?
Two flaps.
"Water?" he asked, feeling a bit desperate. That only left the paper.
But the duck quacked several times and jumped up and down. It flapped its wings several times, excited.
"But ..." said the vampire. "It's dirty! You can't drink it."
He got the 'are you stupid' look again.
"Okay, okay," he said again and reached out, setting the container of water down. It was too high for the duck to reach the top anyway, but it didn't seem to mind. Sam watched in worry as it tipped over the container, getting muddy black paint water all over the floor. "Watch it -" he started. But something else happened and he gaped.
The duck was gone. In its place was a rather wet girl.
Who gave him a bright look, no longer the 'are you stupid' look. "Thanks! My name is Duck!"
It was Sam's turn to give her an 'Oh? Duh?' look.
phantomstar57
Wow. You're just ... the life and soul of the WFF, Phantom. I love seeing you around and suggesting ways to improve things and keeping an interest in us all. And I love your New Blood series dearly. It's great seeing the world grow and expand and this latest story was just so heartwarming. I really do enjoy you being here.
I drew Kyestorm!
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Maplestone360
What can I say? You're great and I love having you around. <3 Your stories are all great and I am always so impressed with how you continue to make such lovely works. And your art? Well ... speechless. Thank you for Rattlesnake and Dream, once again!
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broken
<3 I hope this next year is better for you and I'm sorry that school went badly. I hope you gain more time for yourself and peace of mind.
I painted Noe for you.
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HᥲꙆƒꙆɩɠᖾt
I still love Myrnin and 7S interactions so much. Thank you for all your help in-RP this year and I hope your life is going well.
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The House had a habit of making things easy sometimes and other times downright impossible. Today, it seemed to be favoring Myrnin because he blinked in with pictures and 7S turned up a second later.
Myrnin bounced around her, excited and clapped his hands. She turned her head to watch him, seeming slightly amused.
"Hello Myrnin."
Myrnin bit his lip, calming down a little, and came to a halt before he circled his friend any more times. "Hello 7S," he greeted. He was grinning like the madman he was. "Guess what, guess what, guess what?"
7S waited until the 'guess whats' had petered out before she said, "What?"
Myrnin rummaged around in his pockets - which he had a lot of - and pulled out a stack of old polaroid camera photos. "I stole them from Aurelia - a not-friend of mine - so I thought these would be good?" They were actually rather recent pictures, including him and some of the Goldmans. Which were the family that Aurelia was a part of. Though he wasn't sure if the people would interest her, there were several shots of the house and it included the technology of his times. So he figured that would interest her.
7S took the photos and as far as Myrnin got, she was looking at them. But for all he knew, she was scanning them.
"What do you think?" he asked after a little, still grinning. 7S looked up and seemed, to the vampire, to be pleased. "They're great. Can you tell me about this?"
She pointed at some of the pictures. Myrnin looked at it, eyes roving over the picture. "Ooooooh! That's the laundry room. This ..." He pointed to what was around the room, explaining what everything was in Myrnin fashion. This meant the drier was called: 'makes a woooosh sound, spins the clothes around until they get dizzy, and then I don't know ... they have a cat now, so maybe the cat goes and makes a nest in there. If you sit on it, Theo glares at you a bit.'
And it went on.
When he was done, his grin widened a bit more. "So ... did I win?" Since they were trying to come up with who could get the most amount of pictures.
7S chuckled and shook her head. Pictures began to play over the wall as she pointed to them. Maybe of where she was now. Myrnin crossed his legs as he sat on the couch, clapping his hands in interest.
"Better than a laundry room," he agreed.
Lark
Something wise I once heard told me some advise and that advise is the reason I can call you friend. It's interesting how many times I'm enjoying our interactions these days. It's lovely seeing your witty remarks and your humor is honestly such a breath of fresh air - even if I'm currently choking on water and crying with laughter, but you get my point.
As per your request, I wrote about Maladict and Dipper.
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Maladict blinked into the room and at once started sinking.
"What in the Duchess' name?" he exclaimed, trying to paddle his way out of ... sand.
"Don't move!" said another voice and Maladict completely froze. His uniform was getting completely ruined. He did not want to explain that to the Lieutenant. But right now, he was a bit concerned about the fact he was now waste deep in wet sand. He looked around, trying to spot the voice, but having no luck. It had sounded young.
"I - I ..." said the voice and at least Maladict could tell where the voice was coming from. "I think you're supposed to try and float?" The voice was very hesitant. "It's quicksand."
Which told Maladict nothing. He'd never heard of quicksand in his life. So with that, he just payed attention to the first part. He didn't fancy the chances for that. His legs weren't that deep in, but he couldn't move them out. He gritted his teeth, bending backwards. At this point, it honestly might have just been better to dust him. But getting his ashes to properly collect wouldn't be a good idea.
"Eeeerg," he muttered. "I hate this."
The voice wasn't saying much, but there was nervous humming. Maladict sunk a couple more inches. The 'floating' idea wasn't working.
"I," said the vampire, though hesitating. "Think I might try something." He didn't like it. And he didn't like it for one clear reason.
His body warped, and the wet sand couldn't keep up with the swiftly shifting body. For a second, Maladict was a flapping, disgruntled magpie which spiraled away in short dips of its wings, before collapsing - human shaped again, and clutching his head. A deep, resounding headache pounded through his skull. A large human becoming a small bird wasn't strictly possible, but he could still do it. It was the other part he disliked. He couldn't conjure up clothing, not like the others. But he noticed something ... different as he opened his eyes.To his amazement, the same uniform he'd been wearing before had appeared on him again. Well, everything really, not just the red and white uniform. He ran a hand over the lapel and even the black ribbon pinned to his breast pocket. And gaped. "What in the ...?" he said. But then he shook his head. He probably shouldn't question.
He looked around. The room was ... impressive. And by impressive, the vampire meant deadly. There was a bear trap around there somewhere ... and one of those where you stepped into the lope and you were jerked up by your ankle. And cages and barbed wire and other things that Maladict didn't know about but didn't want to run into.
Maybe he should have stayed a magpie.
"Hello?" he asked, turning slowly and careful not to fall into the sand again. Then he looked up. The voice had sounded like it was coming from an adult's head height, but apparently there was another reason for that.
The boy might have been in his tweens. And he was spinning in a slow circle, face red, so Maladict couldn't really get a good look at him.
"I'll ... get you down from there," said the vampire, picking his way around the edge of the sand.
"Thanks," said the boy with a huffing exhale of breath. Maladict studied this trap and carefully picked his way around it. When he was close enough, he unsheathed his sword. "This may hurt a bit," he admitted. The boy's eyes got wide, but it was already too late and the rope which was keeping him suspended was cut.
The boy landed on his arms and partly on his head. "Sorry!" admitted Maladict. He sheathed his sword and then reached down, helping the boy to his feet. His face was still very red. "Thanks for the help."
"N-no problem," wheezed the boy. He rubbed at the bruises that were forming on his elbow.
"Maladict," introduced the vampire. "Who are you?"
"Dipper Pines," said Dipper, looking a bit less red around the face.
"Nice to meet you," said the soldier. "Now ... do you see a way out of here? Before something with metal teeth catches one of our legs?"
Auransky
Gaaaaaaaaah, you're awesome! I love plot talking with you so much, and hearing about your characters so much, and the fact you keep dragging me into your fandoms is infuriating but there we go!
Thanks for helping so much with Percival! He wouldn't be the person he is today without all the help with the RPs. And I'm so glad to see you enjoying TPH. Thanks!
Yes, yes. You said not to make anything. Well, what I made doesn't look good enough to me, so I still IOU for your birthday. XD
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strider
Oh gosh. What can I say? You are honestly ... just ... :') eeeeerg. I appreciate you so much. You are so, so nice and I look forward to you messages and I love talking with you so much. Your singing is lovely, please never forget that. Never, ever, ever forget your dreams, because boy do you have the talent and skill to meet them. Maybe you can't see it now, but I can see you doing great and exciting things. I'm always here - as I've said - but I just ... I feel so great that we've been good friends for at least a year now. My nickname - the first one I've ever had that wasn't directly off my name - is so treasured and you are one of my best friends. Thank you for this year. It's taught me a lot and brought me a lot of joy and laughter.
Here's Crutchie!
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