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
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
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
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
On Your Best Behavior by demonofnothing, literature
Literature
On Your Best Behavior
Pitching the idea of going to the Pure Incarnate Titan Sanctuary was the easy part, requesting to bring the youngest Nightingale along with him proved to be a bit of an issue. When he had first suggested that Ichabod should tag along, Arkham nearly choked on his tea, throughly confused as to why Jason would want to bring someone so inexperienced and as to why he wanted to go to the PITS now. It was clear that Arkham had been sick, and was still in the recovering stages, so he was definitely not up for the trip. Jason knew that his own temper is what was worrying the older gnome, and given how timid Ichabod acted, it was easy to assume the Nightingale wouldn’t be able to handle the PITS. Jason knew he had to come up with a great excuse, otherwise he would have to get creative in ways he didn’t necessarily want to. “I merely suggested Ichabod as he’s the one who actually showed me one of Mr. Ciar’s beast, it was at their house,” Jason said as he gestured to Dominus, adding quickly, “We were passing by one day to go to the floral shop in the next town over when I saw her. She’s a colorful hybrid—what’s her name? Jolly? Holly?” “Hollibee,” Ichabod answered, nodding in agreement, “We were passing by a couple months ago and Hollibee was doing her usual rounds. Seeing Mr. Ciar’s work usually does capture someone’s interest when you get to see it up close–Not that we entered your yard without your permission, Grandmy!” Dominus got a chuckle out of that, as they leaned back against the couch saying, “I understood what you meant, and yes, Mr. Ciar does do some fascinating work, I will give him that much credit.” Arkham seemed to be having a difficult time trying to find the words he wanted to say, as if there were a lot more cons than there pros to going to the PITS. Finally the old gnome sighed as he went with, “Ethan is special hybrid himself, and—“ “Katherine and Jonathan filled me in on what to expect from Mr. Ciar and to what exactly he is, so I know to not to run my mouth with him,” Jason interrupted, trying not to fold under Arkham’s cold gaze, but he knew he had to keep pressing. He didn’t want to be talked out of this, he wanted to go with the one person would benefit going there. “I understand why you would be worried,” Dominus spoke up, their eyes flickering over to Arkham, a knowing smile on their lips, “If I may be so bold to say, both Mr. Arkal and Mr. Ciar have a bit of bite to them—“ “Which is why I’m suggesting Ichabod! He’s a smooth talker!” Jason smiled, wrapping an arm around the young Nightingale’s neck, “If he can charm his wife, he can charm anyone!” “Mr. Arkal!” Ichabod hissed warningly, but Jason ignored him as he continued with, “I already asked Jonathan to help me, and he there is no persuading him. At least send me with someone I know will appreciate seeing those beasts like I will!” Arkham let out a sigh, closing his eyes as if wishing himself somewhere else, as he finally said, “Let me send a message to Ethan to give you a proper tour….Ichabod, are you really wanting to go to this place? Be honest.” “I do want to go,” Ichabod answered immediately with a rare eagerness to his tone, “Father wouldn’t allow me over there as he wasn’t too keen on being around Mr. Ciar. I believe he was afraid of that grudge Mr. Ciar had over our grandfather, though on the rare moments we saw Mr. Ciar, he was not hostile towards us, and we all know Mr. Ciar does not hide his feelings well.” That answer seemed to suffice enough for Arkham, as he slowly nodded his head and said, “Okay. If Ethan agrees to it, then I’ll give you the dates. If he doesn’t, then you’ll have to go with one of the Jackals. Remus would have to go with you, as Hysteria is pregnant and is by means unavailable to travel.” “Thank you! I’ll be here whenever you get that response,” Jason grinned, bowing to Arkham. “You won’t be thanking me after you meet the bastard,” Arkham coughed into his handkerchief, “Ethan’s bark is loud, but his bite is even worse. If he agrees, you need to be just as behaved, do you understand me, Mr. Arkal?” “Perfectly understood, sir,” Jason nodded, “I’ll leave you two, to your tea.” He started to leave the room, thinking he would have been exited alone, but Ichabod was hot on his heels, waiting until the door was closed before saying, “What was that? Why on earth are you bringing me?” “Why would I bring you?” Jason asked as he started to walk down the hallway, shoving his hands into his pockets as he knew better than to have this conversation with Arkham within hearing reach, “You were telling me you’ve been wanting to go there yourself. So kill two birds with one stone. I get to meet this big bad snake and you get to see pretty little beasties. And hey who knows if everything goes great, I might buy you one.” “Oh don’t buy one for me, buy for yourselves if you’re going to adopt one. They’re expensive beasts,” Ichabod huffed, shaking his head, “Please, for your own sake, don’t get cute with Mr. Ciar. He doesn’t match energies, he gives it back in double.” “Awww, you really worried about me?” Jason purred, as he petted Ichabod’s head, earning a huffy breath from the younger gnome. “When don’t I need to worry about you?” Ichabod asked, as he swatted Jason’s hand away, “I don’t won’t Mr. Ciar to hurt you, because he will.” “I’ll be on my best behavior just for you,” Jason laughed, as he hugged the young mortician, rubbing his head against the other’s as he said, “So unruffle those feathers mother hen, I’mma be just fine with you by my side.” “You are insufferable, sir!” Ichabod haughtily growled, as he pushed Jason away, his face a few shades redder when Jason laughed harder. “C’mon! Y’know I gotta give you a hard time!” The young mortician said nothing as he moodily stormed off, leaving the older gangster laughing in the hallway.
May I Question You Too by demonofnothing, literature
Literature
May I Question You Too
The Nightingale was surprised at how comforting he found Jason Arkal-Jenkins to be around. The gnome was pretty blunt and straightforward with any of his questioning, and he really had no filter to his mouth. He was an unapologetic hot mess, and for whatever reason, Ichabod found it almost endearing. He couldn’t quite place his finger on why he liked the odd gnome so much, other than he was quite the quirky character. Every moment he got to spend with Jason, he found something new and interesting about him. With each visit, it felt as though they were somehow getting closer even if they were nearly complete opposites of each other. Jason was impatient and loud, while Ichabod could wait an eternity and silence was golden. Ichabod loved listening to him talk. He didn’t know why he found the gnome’s voice so soothing, he wondered if it was the older gnome’s accent. Jason had been coming to Ichabod on and off over the last few years, usually having questions about Jonathan, the other families, or about Ichabod himself. The older gnome seemed nonchalant and uncaring, seemingly unlistening, but Ichabod could see him silently processing the information that was provided. Jason had minor ticks in his facial expressions that were subtle, easy to miss, but they were there nevertheless. Ichabod liked to test Jason’s knowledge to see if he was just as dumb as his father had made him out to be, but the odd Smurf proved that he was more than just some pretty face in a pastel suit. There was an intelligent brain hiding away behind those gorgeous violet eyes, him being new to the business was a bit of hinderance, especially since the gnome was a prideful little guy. Jason wasn’t one to mask his displeasure with someone. He let one know exactly how he felt and sometimes being direct in this field of business was not the best tactic. Ichabod’s wife, Jacqueline, didn’t know what to make of Jason. She didn’t seem to hate him but she didn’t exactly like him either, but she wasn’t indifferent either. Ichabod noted how she seemed to enjoy the banter that Jason could bring during his visits, and the fact that he could handle his own with her without getting offended was a grand thing on its own. Ichabod was happy that his wife actually had someone she could conversate with, and she was more reasonable with Ichabod in return. They both looked forward to Jason’s visits, and she seemed happy that Jason always had a job for her, so she could always leave the house, and it gave Ichabod peace of mind that he wouldn’t have to fight with her. Jason seemed to understand that Ichabod and Jacqueline’s relationship was strained at best, and he was sure Jacqueline was the one who filled him in on their unhappy marriage. “So why did your father think she was a good idea for you?” Jason asked him as he helped treat a wound that she had inflicted on Ichabod just prior to Jason coming for his usual visit, “That dame’s a damn good brawler, and no offense, but you aren’t exactly a cockerel.” Ichabod laughed at that as he allowed Jason to bandage his hand, trying his hardest to keep the bitterness out of his voice, “I honestly don’t know why he chose her, other than her father used to take care of my father. Mr. Francis wasn’t as—,” he paused as he tried to find the right word. “Brutish?” Jason offered, as he tied the bandage tight enough to stay on, but loose enough not to further hurt the young mortician. “Brutal,” Ichabod nodded, admiring Jason’s handy work, as he tucked that information away that Jason did have some medical understanding, “Not to say, Mr. Francis didn’t have his crotchety moments, but, Mr. William raised Jacqueline more while Mr. Francis was overseas.” “Well that just explained everything so clearly,” Jason snorted, as he started to put the medical supplies away, “I take it because you’re a little more forgiving, he thought this would toughen you up? That’s not how this shit works, if anything, it’ll just make you more withdrawn or eventually you’re going to snap. Does she always hurt you like this?” Ichabod shrugged his shoulders, eyes downcasted to the coffee table as he replied quietly, “It’s not often our fights get physical. My reflexes have saved me a time or two, but it’s easier if I just let her vent out her issues. There’s not much she can do to hurt me that I haven’t already done myself,” He winced at his own words, realizing he may have said too much. His shoulders sagged as he let out a sigh and said, “I never know what’s going on in my father’s mind or what his plans are….only he understands what he does. You should know that by now, he’s been with you long enough for you to draw your own conclusions.” “I’ve drawn that he’s an enigma,” Jason sighed as he closed the medical box, and put it back in the cabinet by the fireplace. He seemed to want to say more, but shook his head as if decided against it. “You’re just as mysterious as he is, you know?” Ichabod quietly responded as he kept his eyes focused on the cracks in the wood of his coffee table. He could now feel Jason’s eyes on him, but he couldn’t make himself look at him. “May I question you too?” “Depends on the answers you’re seeking,” Jason answered honestly as he chose to sit in the armchair across from the mortician. He crossed one leg over his knee, hands folded neatly together, as he leaned back against the chair saying, “Shoot, and maybe you’ll hit your target.” “I want to get to know you,” Ichabod said carefully, rubbing a hand over his bandages, trying to figure out the best route to go, “You’ve gotten to know me and my family……is alright if I ask you some personal questions?” Orange eyes met with a violet gaze, and the older gnome simply nodded his head, granting the mortician to ask whatever he wanted. Ichabod swallowed hard, knowing his line of questioning could turn invasive if he wasn’t too careful. Jason rarely spoke of his past, just peppered tidbits of information, but Ichabod wanted to know more about the gnome before him. If they truly wanted to trust each other, then they would have to allow the other in, no matter how uncomfortable the topics may be. This was going to be scary for the both of them, he was sure, as it was always hard to find anyone to trust in this business. “Where are you from?” Ichabod asked, deciding to start with something easy, “Your accent suggests you’re from overseas.” Jason lightly chuckled at that, as he rubbed his chin and said, “Here I thought I was doing a pretty good job at hiding it….I’m from New England.” “You’re a long way from home,” Ichabod chuckled lightly, shaking his head, “Why on earth would you come here?” Jason frowned slightly, musing over his words as he carefully told him, “I needed a career change. Things….they weren’t working out where I was. You know that feeling that no matter what you do, the bad outweighs the good? So if you can’t beat them, join them? Sometimes a new change of scenery helps a body out, y’know? I’d like to think I’m making a difference here, then I ever could there. Starting over fresh….not going to lie though, I feel like a fish outta water.” Ichabod felt like he was now stepping onto a lake of ice and had no clue where the ice was thinning. Jason’s face gave away no indication on where Ichabod should trend next, and he knew he had to be careful or he would fall in the icy waters. It was obvious that Jason didn’t want to talk about his old job, which is why he wasn’t revealing what it was he had done for a living prior to coming to the swamplands. He wasn’t ready to share that information, so Ichabod would respect that boundary for now. He would book mark it for a later date. “Let’s back track a little,” Ichabod suggested, leaning back against the sofa, “Let’s go to your youth. What was your family like?” Jason visibly flinched at that. He could see Jason’s jaw tense, his right eye having a slight twitch as if an unpleasant memory struck him. He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he said, “Why you wanna know about them?” “Same reason you want to know about mine,” Ichabod countered, knowing where he had stepped, was starting to crack. Family was a sore spot just like his job, but if had to get to know Ichabod on a personal level then he had to give something in return. Jason bit his lip for a moment, mauling over what he wanted to say before finally releasing a sigh as he said, “Here’s the gist of my family history. I’m the youngest out of eight. I’m the only boy. Now imagine have an overbearing, over opinionated, dickwad for a father, and a haughty, contempt, cold viper for a mother. For whatever reason, my parents wanted eight girls and you know, I so rudely had to disappoint them at birth for things I had no control over. Growing up, I was the scapegoat child. Everything I did was wrong. Every problem, every misdeed, anything broken, it was my fault, whether I did it or not. I wasn’t even allowed to dress as a boy for the longest time. I got all my sisters hand-me-downs….they all wore dresses. I bet that’s a comical image to picture.” Neither laughed. They sat in perfect silence, Jason looking at the wall with a far off look, while Ichabod watched him. He could see the way Jason’s gritted his teeth with that tense jaw, the way his fingers gripped and plucked at the fabric of his pants leg. There was a lot of unpleasant memories with his family. What little he vocalized painted enough of a visual without the need of details. It explained a lot about Jason’s personality, the heated temper of a gnome who had very little control in his life. “You fight like a girl,” Ichabod suddenly said, earning a deep scowl from Jason. That flash of angry and hurt was apparent, and Ichabod quickly added, “I don’t mean it in a disrespectful way. Only it makes sense how you’re able to hit a woman without a second thought. I’ve seen you scrap with my wife, and few other ladies….with your predicament, it makes a lot more sense.” Jason looked away, an irritated huff escaping him as he growled, “Yeah, you try living with seven older girls and tell me you wouldn’t throw hands with any woman afterwards. I didn’t have to take shit from them, and I’m not going to take shit from anyone else.” “I take it you’re not close to any of your siblings then?” Ichabod asked, pressing his hands together, a sharp pain shooting in his palm as his injury protested against the pressure. He ignored the pain, keeping his attention only trained on Jason. “I don’t hate my sisters,” Jason lowly told him, that far off look still on his face as he stared at the wall, “We’ve talked about how fucked up it was in that house. We were all too young to understand what was going on—“ “But the pain still lingers, even with the knowledge,” Ichabod said quietly, wanting to reach out to the gnome across from him, to offer some sort of comfort, but how do you comfort someone who’s suffering was on a different level of abuse? Ichabod father’s was emotional unavailable and neglected him throughout his childhood, tossing him around to anyone who would take him before he actually started to beat life’s lessons into him. He dealt with one gnome, Jason dealt with nine. The older gnome was understandable fucked up, and maybe that’s why Ichabod was so drawn to him. Even now, he felt like he was getting closer to him. Jason finally looked at Ichabod, those violet orbs looking so vulnerable for a moment before his features hardened again saying, “Yeah, but it’s a pain we gotta live with, and no amount of talking will ever make it go away.” Ichabod stood up from the couch, as he could tell Jason no longer wanted to talk. Whatever hell he was reliving right now, Ichabod had a feeling he was only going to worsen Jason’s mood and potentially get him on a violent streak. He knew he best end the conversation now before he dampened the mood any further. There was so much he wanted to ask, so much more he wanted to divulge into, but he could read Jason’s demeanor as clear as he could read his own. The older gnome was switching to a defensive position, ready to go on a vocal showdown if it came to it. Jason looked challenging and Ichabod was by no means trying to pick a fight with someone who could out maneuver him. Ichabod knew how to pick and chose his battles, and he wanted Jason on his side, not as his enemy. Jason’s need for control was understood, and Icahbod was more than willing to give the reins back to him, “One final question, would you prefer your usual whiskey or try some some of my wine tonight with your dinner?” That question seemed to catch Jason off guard. He had been prepared for another wave of questioning, arching a brow as if wondering what Ichabod was up to. The mortician waved his hand as if telling the older gnome to give him an answer quickly, and Jason cleared his throat as he stood up, stretching his limbs as he pretended as if their previous conversation hadn’t happened, “Tell ya what, I’ll drink your wine if you drink my whiskey? Sound fair?” “More than fair,” Ichabod nodded, a faint smile on his face as he noted the appreciate half smile on Jason’s face. Ichabod knew all too well how damaging and draining it could be reliving a moment that one had fought so hard to keep under lock and key. He wanted Jason to trust him, so, backing off was the best solution for now. As Ichabod was walking away he felt like he needed to add something more of value to Jason. The older gnome had opened up to him, so the least he could do was open up in return, “I understand what it feels like to be unwanted….if you would like, we could be unwanted company together more often if you need it. My home will always be open to you.” Jason hummed a little before saying, “Thank you Ichabod…..if ever you want to come to Black Vine, I’m more than willing to be your guide.” Ichabod smiled at that as he headed for the kitchen, “I would like that very much. Maybe next time I’m off, I’ll see if Mr. Jenkins can allow me a visit.”
"Happy ending? There are no happy endings. Life is an uninterrupted series of humiliating failures." ~The Brain. (Pinky, Elmyra, and the Brain)
Hello I am Rebecca, also known as Pip or the Demon of Nothing. I am a nobody and I am a negative person a good 90% of the time and positive a good 10%. I have a dark, crude sense of humor, and I tend to like to make others happy rather than myself. I have a pessimistic view on life. Oh yes, I can be fun and silly to amuse others and myself sometimes, but most of the time I am a grinch. I'm sarcastic, snarky, but tolerant to others to a certain degree. Don't start shit with me and I won't start shit with you! Okay? Then enjoy my gallery with all of it's terrible depravity!
Current resident: Between everywhere and nowhere.
Personal quote: Why fit in when you're born to stand out?~ Dr. Seuss
Ya’ll knew this day would come. You knew what you were doing when you decided to watch me! Don’t expect child friendly answers! Here we go! Ya’ll know the drill! You want to ask a certain character a question, pick one or more, and ask it and they’ll answer it. You may ask your questions in this journal, comment section of the answers, or even note me with “Ask the Seuss”. Here we go! The list of characters: Edit 03/14/2020 In case anyone is confused, this “Ask the Seuss” is an AU that is a combination of Dr Seuss books, (loosely)Seussical, movies, and tv shows. I worked them into one universe. So they will be different from their respected books and movies as it will be a mix of them all. Some things will have to go and changes will be need to be made in order for them to work this way. I’ll give an example of what I mean. Example: “Green Eggs and Ham” the book/ also the 1973 movie is about Sam I Am pestering his nameless Knox roommate to try a dish of green eggs
One thing I hate about the mobile app and the actual site is neither seem to sync and I can’t edit literature once it’s been posted. It won’t even let me edit it to put it in the folder it needs to be in, as the mobile app doesn’t put them in their proper folders when selected either……is this a problem they are ever going to fix?
Sorry for the absence, but due to mental health reasonings, I took a step back from a lot of things. I’m slowly getting back into things that I enjoyed. I’m hoping to start drawing again, but taking my time into doing so.