Lucian Asphodel

— combination that is. So…”

Lucian scanned him up and down.

“Exactly which parts of you are wolverine, and which parts are dragon?”

Lucian had always considered himself a kind of creature, but he supposed he had some feral tendencies as well. Roman definitely acted much more civilized than Lucian. *Sapient being* was a far more apt term.

“Sapient wolverine dragon,” he noted with a nod. “I’ll remember that. What an interesting —

— suddenly a little embarrassed he’d had to ask for help, but grateful nonetheless.

“You fixed her. How did you do that…?”

— to give a confused look around. Then she jumped down from Lucian’s arms and nudged the woman’s ankle with an appreciative purr. All of her symptoms had completely disappeared.

“Persephone!” Lucian exclaimed, crouching down to her level. “You’re all better!”

He looked up at the blond lady, —

For an agonizing moment, the cat didn’t seem to improve. Her breathing still ran ragged, her little pink paws twitching…

But then, she relaxed in Lucian’s arms. Her trembling and panting stopped. Basking in the kind woman’s warm glow, she seemed to nod off for a moment, then raised her head again —

❝𝖶𝖾𝗅𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝗃𝖾𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗌❞
🦋
⋆
✧

★ ☆

✬

᯽︎ ✳
✧

✦ ⋆

۝

❝ 𝘾𝙤𝙖𝙡 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙙, 𝙨𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙤𝙤𝙡𝙨❞
🦋

#blueskyrp #Originalcharacter

I guess im not enough of a hoe because I definitely get cold a lot

…………..

gives a blanket

this is your own fault.

and that’s the price of beauty.

lucian won’t be spending all night warming him up.

(unless he looks really really cold,,)

yeah well maybe if he didn't wear ONLY metal plates...

-- out one of the smaller ones, a baby, trailing a little further behind the group. He squinted at the faint shadows near the tree line.

"That one might be getting lost in the storm..."

"They must be gentler than they look, then. I'd hate to get caught underfoot of one of those things. They are beautiful, though..."

Lucian tightened the cloak around his shoulders as the wind began to pick up. The snow swirled thicker, obscuring their view of the Popo. Lucian could hardly make --

-- disgruntled Percy soaring through the air and landing in the snow next to their tent with more than a few broken bones. Percy was a tough guy, but these things were much bigger than any humanoid.

-- whispered, as if he would spook the Popo if he spoke too loudly. "How close do you have to get to them?"

They were the kind of beautiful that Lucian felt was best admired from afar. Just a turn of a Popo's head could clothesline someone with a tusk and send them flying. He imagined a --

Lucian was entranced by the large animals. They were so slow, but so purposeful and methodic in their movements. Their heavy footfalls could be heard and felt across the clearing. How would Percy herd creatures that were so large and powerful?

"Aren't you scared you'll get trampled?" he --

-- safe? That was a weird feeling.

"The fire looks great," he said, emerging from the tent to kneel next to Percy as he shifted logs around with a stick.

"How do you start your fires? Do you use matches or do you like to rub sticks together?"

-- the trees and the swirling snow, it felt like they were worlds away from his castle. Any other time, Lucian would've been terrified, but Percy's presence kept him calm somehow. He was even a little excited to spend the night chatting with his friend.

Did he... actually trust Percy to keep him --

Lucian huddled by the space heater as Percy worked. He'd piped up once or twice to ask if he needed any help, but Percy had insisted that he was perfectly fine, and that Lucian should focus on warming up.

So that was what he did. With the strange-sounding calls of the Popo coming from within --

-- His burning hunger wouldn't be satiated tonight, but at least he wouldn't be tempted. The desire for a warm, safe bed and an uninjured spine far outweighed his need for sustenance.

"If I may ask... What sort of creature are you, anyway? I've never seen someone with a physique quite like yours."

Lucian laughed. It was a genuine laugh, though quiet and soft, like he didn't do it much.

"I'll admit that I'm a little stronger than I look, but I trust you wouldn't give me the chance. You look like you could snap me over your knee if you wanted."

Strangely, that brought Lucian some comfort. --

— would be about nine more hours. If Lucian was warm and comfortable, maybe he could endure. For a pretty boy.

“Well, I guess you couldn’t have asked a better person to keep you awake,” he said, tucking the watch away. “I don’t need much sleep. I definitely appreciate the big tent, though.”

— He liked to have the added security of knowing what time it was, or at least that was the justification he used for carrying around Vespyr’s old pocket watch.

As he neared the tent, he pulled out the watch to take a quick glance at its face. Percy had promised they’d be done by sunrise. That —

— much, save for a book, a change of clothes, and a spare blood pouch in case his cravings got too bad. But Lucian’s inner coat pocket was always weighed down by a heavy brass pocket watch. It was one of those familiar feelings that he almost didn’t notice anymore, but would miss if it were gone. —

Grateful that he didn’t have to participate in the setup, Lucian started shuffling faster to cross the clearing toward the tent. Already, it looked so warm and inviting. If all he had to do was keep Percy awake and hold down the fort, maybe they’d get through this night easily.

He hadn’t packed —

— skilled hunter. Haven’t you done this kind of thing on your own before?”

— human, Lucian avoided cold weather at all costs. Frigid winds burned his skin and chilled him to the bone. And somehow, Percy had convinced him to leave the safety of his warm hearth to camp out here in the worst blizzard he’d seen in decades?

Lucian really was weak to pretty men.

“You’re a —

“And remind me again why you need me here?” Lucian asked as he shuffled along in the snow. His narrow frame was hidden under many thick layers of furs, coats, and jackets, turning him into a walking, fluffy lump. Underneath a wool hat, his cheeks were already pink from the chill.

Even when he was —

"𝗗𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗯𝗹𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗮 𝗰𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮 𝗰𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗻. 𝗕𝗹𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗴𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗶𝗿𝗰𝘂𝘀."

卄卂丨ㄥ 匚ㄖ几ㄒ尺卂

-Clyus Cazador,
Lancer of the Hyspanian Cavalry.

At your service—

⚙️ Mech Pilot
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