sticks and bones. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sticksandbonesmods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sticksandbones2024-07-19 09:51 am
sticksandbonesmods) wrote in sticksandbones2024-07-19 09:51 am
And Callie was a goner
Who: Callan & You
What: The Lake Guardian escapes gay baby jail I mean prison I mean the lake—
When: Forward-dated 7/31
Where: The Grove
Warnings: usual Callan warnings apply, so this log will probably mention eating people & violence, as well as Callan's usual shapeshifting to have too many limbs/eyes/etc.
The fog wall imperceptibly rolls back after everyone arrives back on dry land, back to the safety of Aldric's Grove, where the scary wet creatures cannot get anybody anymore.
Well. All except one scary wet creature, who realises with a start that the fog wall is passing over his head, stopping in its roll-back at the opposite edge of the lake. Which means he's free. He can leave the lake.
Finally.
Thus does this half-corrupted Thing haul himself out of the lake on long, spindly human limbs and scuttle through the woods, making a three-day journey in the record time of about four hours, plowing over trees in his wake. And when he arrives at the Grove, he still doesn't stop moving; a blur of black is all anyone will see, a strange shape in the daylight, as Callan skitters forward and then pitches himself into the well.
...
Anyway, good luck with that, y'all.
What: The Lake Guardian escapes gay baby jail I mean prison I mean the lake—
When: Forward-dated 7/31
Where: The Grove
Warnings: usual Callan warnings apply, so this log will probably mention eating people & violence, as well as Callan's usual shapeshifting to have too many limbs/eyes/etc.
The fog wall imperceptibly rolls back after everyone arrives back on dry land, back to the safety of Aldric's Grove, where the scary wet creatures cannot get anybody anymore.
Well. All except one scary wet creature, who realises with a start that the fog wall is passing over his head, stopping in its roll-back at the opposite edge of the lake. Which means he's free. He can leave the lake.
Finally.
Thus does this half-corrupted Thing haul himself out of the lake on long, spindly human limbs and scuttle through the woods, making a three-day journey in the record time of about four hours, plowing over trees in his wake. And when he arrives at the Grove, he still doesn't stop moving; a blur of black is all anyone will see, a strange shape in the daylight, as Callan skitters forward and then pitches himself into the well.
...
Anyway, good luck with that, y'all.
no subject
Just looking for something cozy, that's all...
[Still keeping a firm grip on the wriggly little thing, he scans the shelves. Maybe there's, like...a fishtank or something...? He doesn't intend to hurt the little guy just in case it is ultimately harmless, just...y'know. Perhaps find something to keep it in to better keep an eye on it.]
no subject
Meanwhile, Callan starts singing a song, except he's too small for it to really be heard, so it sounds like a distant mosquito sound with a beat to it. Hooray.]
no subject
Siffrin carefully sets the tiny Callan inside the fishtank before quickly closing the lid again.]
See? Homey, right?
[He even picks the fishtank up, carrying it back outside where the view is possibly more interesting.]
You could even call it a...mobile home?
no subject
A mobile home! That means I can go anywhere I want!
[...he can already do this.]
I'm going to move this home everywhere! Thanks, little hat guy!
no subject
Oh well. Too late, they're committed now.]
You sure can.
[In theory. If he carries the tank. Which maybe he will, if Callan promises not to eat anyone in exchange. For now, Siffrin just carries the tank across the grove to the inn.]
no subject
Second house! Hooray!]
no subject