Yannick (he/him) | BG3 - Art blog at @ cowboyan
283 posts
Insane Twitter Convo I Have Screenshotted On My Phone
insane twitter convo i have screenshotted on my phone
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More Posts from Cowboy-eldritch
It's an impulse thing, leaning forward and giving him a soft kiss on the lips where he's laying in bed.
category of blorbo called "technically i like them but fanons obsession with them to the exclusion of other characters pavloved me into having a negative reaction whenever i see them"
Commission illustrated by @antisocialxconstruct of the moray scene during the Hollow Ground meeting in Fallen Hero: Retribution.
Book text under the cut:
Hollow Ground's head is unknown territory, but you don't need to go deep to do what you need to do. All you need is a nudge and a tweak, find a reason she'd be ready to let you go and strengthen it.
And you've got to do it fast.
Slipping in through her shields is second nature by now, walking the minefield, a coral reef of creatures hungry to devour you. Don't touch the tentacles, feeler anemones tangling the currents, coat your thoughts with scents close enough for her mind not to immediately recognize the intrusion.
Curiosity is a subtler feeling than fear or paranoia, but no less potent. Especially since it's shared by you. What is going on here? There's something more than superficial chance resemblance, sure, and those are not your thoughts. Those are Hollow Ground's.
Interesting.
Worth exploring.
You gently brush your fingers over her mind, bringing feelings to life. There are dangers everywhere around you, but you don't let them catch you unawares. It's a beautiful mindscape, a coral reef filled with life and color, hidden dangers lurking in crevasses, the ever-present sea anemones trailing their tendrils everywhere. A less talented telepath would be tangled and risk triggering a memory, but you're a master of your craft.
Familiarity can be a useful shield. You can brush against thoughts and memories, picking up details. There's already enough of a rapport you can use for groundwork. Similarities, not just in looks but in…demeanor?
Very carefully, you reach into one of the darker crevasses, a crack going deep, as if an earthquake cracked the mind down to the core. There are things there, old memories, slippery and cold and out of the sun.
"Put your hand in that crack,"
"and you won't get it back…."
Singing? A memory?
The aquarium is as tall as you are, filled with all the brightness of the tropical sea. Fish glitter past like confetti, too small to pick out, but together they're strong. Your breath is misting the glass, but you're entranced, it's the best day of your life, you didn't think…
Wait. Your life?
A reflection in the glass, your face but far younger than you've ever been, eyes meeting yours and too young,too innocent, the smile, the chubby cheeks, and there's a hand on your head, a fond ruffle and a whisper in your ear.
"…that's a moray."
A memory. Of course. It stinks of Hollow Ground. A fond memory? Intense enough to form her mindscape? Looks like it.
You yank your hand out just before the moray strikes, two sets of teeth missing your fingers, and you bare your teeth in an echoing growl. It's dangerous this deep, you can feel yourself sinking into memories of your own, of different tanks, not filled with saltwater but amniotic fluid, trapped, the faces glaring at you covered with surgical masks, tapping the glass, and you twitch, echoes amplified and you can't get out and do you even know what's out? Do you know anything?
Too loud. Everything echoes, their thoughts so loud, and none of them concerned with you. You. There is no you. Just a body. A potential. Nobody bothers to name the fish in the tank. If you did, you'd have to grieve when they started floating belly up.
Lies. You named them.
You named yourself.
Floating belly up. How did you lose yourself in here? You went too deep, you need to breathe, but everything you touch gives way, climbing kelp and looking for the sun.
~I got you.~
Dragged back, pulled out, pushed behind. Protected. The ghost of a memory.
"Fuck." Hollow Ground coughs, leaning against Nocturne, who is glaring daggers at you. You're back in the room with blood in your mouth and salt on your cheeks. "What was that?"
Excerpt from Fallen Hero: Retribution by Malin Ryden