[O] Bug a Boo [Crafting] - Printable Version +- HELOVIA || The Way to the Sun (http://helovia.com) +-- Forum: Out of Character (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=1) +--- Forum: Archives (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=11) +--- Thread: [O] Bug a Boo [Crafting] (/showthread.php?tid=23370) |
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Bug a Boo [Crafting] - Johnny - 03-22-2016
doing some crafting! @Albrecht (as per their agreement in exchange for the scarf? xD we could do it at a later time if you don't have the time now!) other crafters/members are invited but this isn't mandatory or anything, just gonna tag y'all in case you feel like showing up @Ahvelyn @Calder @Eldala since the season is almost up you've got a week to post and then I'll reply with Johnny doing the thing :D RE: Bug a Boo [Crafting] - Albrecht - 03-26-2016 The sing-song clamor of infantile lilts in tone is unmistakable – and conveniently pinpointing exactly where the caroler is as he roams around the Basins inner caverns. Peppermint-Johnny is skipping along (at least, that’s how the old man pictures him moving since nothing else would seem appropriate) projecting his voice ahead of him like a foghorn of warning. Run, Albrecht! It calls, though he hardly needs to be hasty to avoid the Weavers cursory search. He’s really just skimming along the well-worn tracks and expecting his prey to present itself. Not likely, the old man snorts, safely tucked into a dark corner of the rock walls, but as he listens to the gradually softening noise a tinge of guilt pricks at his senses and sends his ears flicking back and forth uneasily. The wrap of soft, undyed wool around his neck suddenly seems to weigh an inordinate amount. Normally cozy and warm, the scarf is now inexplicably uncomfortable, soothing pressure turned to choking collar. Had the crafter bewitched it? Or is the old coot just being overly sensitive? He believed in keeping promises once... but for now he'd rather accuse and blame than risk the pain of introspection. “Fucking bullshit.” He mutters, shaking his mane-less, bearded neck in aggravation. Why should an old man like him have to go bumbling through the woods searching for twigs and leaves? Isn’t that what apprentices are for? Phantoms aren’t assigned that duty! But despite his inward complaints the black moves forward and out of his hiding spot, dragging his hooves along the tiny, slush filled tracks of the Weaver. Even his hoofprints smell of peppermint. OOC // @Johnny You can notice him following or have him catch up whenever. :) RE: Bug a Boo [Crafting] - Johnny - 03-31-2016
@Albrecht Posted from my phone because it's the last day and I forgot :| so sorry for any typos or weirdness! RE: Bug a Boo [Crafting] - Albrecht - 04-09-2016 The Peppermint-Pony is as bright and overzealous as ever, flashing his white teeth in a welcoming grin, but today there’s something new about him too. Sprawled across his sugary back (and in exactly the style one would expect from an ally of Johnny) is some sort of patchwork creature, apparently made from all the leftover pieces of other animals. It’s got a little beak and little wings, but it’s also got little paws and a little fluff-tipped tail that doesn’t seem to belong to either birds or dogs and, as if the rest of the details aren’t incongruous enough, it’s edges and undersides are as pink as any blooming peony he’s ever seen. What a pair they are. “A companion?” He questions, but as the rosy Feather-Fluff squeaks its own ‘hello,’ Johnny waves a dried out branch of something in the old man’s face, explaining that this is the material he needs gathered. Albrecht’s less than crystalline eyes have just enough time to focus on the stringy tufts of white at the branches ends before the Weaver bounds away, clearly intent on finding the things he needs before the morning ends. Morose as ever, the elder sighs his discontent and shuffles away to nose at sticks and branches made bare by the season, accidentally jabbing himself on more than one occasion but managing to bring a few mouthfuls of the plant back to Johnny’s pile, each one tossed down with more abandon than the last. Finally the crafter plops himself down, unceremoniously dismounting his Dog-Bird in the process, and scrunches his eyes in concentration. Slowly, though possibly quicker than the last time Albrecht witnessed the Weaver’s magic, the plants white fibers straighten and detach from their twigs, twining and crisscrossing together until several evenly woven blankets assemble before them. The blankets lay in a neat pile, apparently finished, and the unhappy Dog-Bird stomps right up and into them like they’ve been made especially her. Maybe they were? Albrecht snorts approvingly as she burrows into the pile and shifts them around to cover her every feather and fluff. At least one of them has a little sense. OOC // I didn't want to leave this unfinished. They're too much fun together. :P @Johnny RE: Bug a Boo [Crafting] - Johnny - 04-24-2016
@Albrecht :D RE: Bug a Boo [Crafting] - Albrecht - 04-28-2016 “Alright,” He answers mildly, cocking his head to examine the ‘Griffin’ more closely, or what little of her is visible among the pile of magically woven blankets. A little crest of rosy feathers rises along the top of her head as Johnny speaks, mimicking the way the stallions ears would cup forward when they’re listening to something with interest. Albrecht takes a curious step forward, reaching out his nose to snuff at the creature. He’s seen a few companions before, animals of all shapes and sizes that are somehow irrevocably bound to their partners (even natural predators, interestingly), but they usually seem so distant and unfriendly when anyone else is near, or maybe they only act that way toward him specifically. He does tend to have that effect. Questions string together in his mind, following and building off one another - What makes them different from regular animals? Are they magic? How do they bond with someone? Why do they bond? Where do they come from? - But instead of bombarding the Weaver with what might seem like genuinely stupid questions to someone more familiar with Helovia than he, he settles on just one inquiry to get the ball rolling. “Where do companions come from?” He’s fairly certain the Peppermint Pony will rattle off an entire dissertation on the subject anyway. The only thing bigger than the guys flamboyant presence is his mouth after all, so he doubts he'll need more prompting than that and settles in for a long explanation. It's not like the old bastard has anything better to do with everyone still in a hissy about the herd meeting. Might as well learn something new and possibly useful. OOC// @Johnny |