Onwards to the Snake's Lair by demonofnothing, literature
Literature
Onwards to the Snake's Lair
Neither said a word to the other as they traveled to the next town over to Skid Row. Jason Arkal-Jenkins appeared to be bored about the whole ordeal, while Ichabod Nightingale was sure that his nerves were showing. There was a gnawing anxiety at the back of his mind and he was from the decades of his father forbidding him from ever stepping one foot near the infamous P.I.T.S. He was excited about seeing what the fuss was about, though he would be lying to himself if he said that he wasn’t terrified of meeting Ethan Ciar. Everyone who ever knew Ethan would warn about his temperamental state and the extremes of his wrath and rage, but Ichabod wasn’t sure if they were true or exaggerations of the truth. He always trusted his father’s words when he was a smurfling but now that he was an adult, well, he had to see for himself. He cast a glance over at Jason to see him taking in the scenery. He looked downright bored as they were transitioning from the swamplands to forest. Sure, Skid
Collin Hardings held the purple crystal between his fingertips, looking confused as to what he was supposed to do with it. Tony Thyme had tried to give it to him, and when he refused, the little bastard had the audacity to get Ekon to force him to take it, knowing damn well he wasn’t going to say no to older gnome. Ipkiss peered at the crystal curiously, before looking at Collin as he asked, “What’s it do?” “I don’t know and I don’t care to know,” Collin answered, ready to throw the thing, but a small part of him refused to do it. He sighed as he stood up, Ipkiss hot on his heels as he asked, “Where are you going?” “Alex will know what to do with this,” He answered, trying to rack his brain on where the gnome might be hiding out at. There was a chance he was with Shashi as they both shared that operatic musical interest, or he was potentially with Ichabod. For whatever reason, he was getting awful chummy with the Nightingale. He wasn’t sure if it was because they once knew each
The Nightingale scowled when he saw his best friend smirking at him, waggling his brows as if he knew a hidden secret but was waiting for the other to speak of it first. Ichabod let out a heavy breath as he picked his teacup up, not wanting to take the bait, but of course he couldn’t bite back his annoyance as he snapped out, “What?” The weresmurf merely laughed in glee at his irritation, knowing full well that it was easy to ruffle the Nightingale’s feathers without too much effort. The two had known each other for far too long and they were like bickering brothers who knew how to poke and prod the other with just a glance. “You’ve met someone,” Stranger commented with a mischievous grin plastered on his face, earning a deeper scowl from the other. “Who?” The Nightingale scoffed as he looked around the empty living room, seeing as they were the only two in the room, “What person have you hallucinated up for me because I sure as hell down see them.” Stranger let out a bellowing
It was cold outside. The crisp chilly air brought a freezing breeze with it, and yet the mortician barely registers the cold as he sat on the roof of the Mors estate. A pale moon clung to the night sky and it was the only source of light tonight as everyone else had gone to bed for the evening. The Nightingale knew he should probably rest like the others, but his mind was racing far too much for slept to overcome him. He was like his father in that regard. When he felt he needed to get away, some place of great heights was always a comforting spot, whether it be the roof of a home or simply a tree branch, any place that had to scaled was good enough. He grimaced as he pulled the purple crystal out of his coat pocket, examining the small mineral as if it were too good to be true. It had been centuries since he had laid eyes on a crystal such as this, and the last gnome he knew who had one was no longer living. They had died a terrible death, one they didn’t deserve and it was