#owlscratch

[owlafterhours]

[[ B is closest to the traditional worm on a string, but A and C have their merits as well. ]]

--

I was working on something else (also, ice worm related,) n' talking to a friend this wormed it's way into my head;

And then it sparked The Question of Where Would The Eyes Go?

#armored core 6 #c4 621 #ice worm #this is a bit of an ensemble cast but raven is the mc here #coral containment sphere #owlscratch #originally carla had the appetizer head but it was a little unrecognizable.. #tumblr don't kill image quality challenge

[drhu0806]

Remembrance of things past

“And once I had recognized the taste of the crumb of madeleine soaked in her decoction of lime-flowers which my aunt used to give me...immediately the old grey house upon the street, where her room was, rose up like the scenery of a theatre to attach itself to the little pavilion, opening on to the garden, which had been built out behind it for my parents...all from my cup of tea.” - Marcel Proust, À la recherche du temps perdu

“What the heck is all this?”

Luna is a storm in the kitchen when Seven returns to the apartment. The counters are littered with open packages of raw meat and fish, platters of sliced vegetables, a bucket of uncooked noodles set off to the side. There are jars holding sauces of various colors and fragrances she can’t even begin to name, and a pot of something is left to boil on the stove.

“Hi, Seven! Happy New Year!”

A head pops up from beneath the counters, and Luna greets her with a big smile. She pulls out something large from below: it’s a portable stove, attached to a small propane tank.

“Happy… New Year to you too? Is that what we’re celebrating?”

Luna nods happily, oblivious to the wariness in which Seven regards the large amount of uncooked ingredients as she brings the stove to the small dining table. Behind them, steam begins to billow up from the pot as its contents are finally brought to a boil.

“Yup! I wanted to have hot pot, so I got all this stuff just for the occasion. Help me get all this stuff onto the table, won’t you?”

Hot pot. Seven’s at least seen the term before, written on some packages she’s seen when Luna takes her grocery shopping at the local Asian market. She assumes the titular pot in question is the one that’s currently boiling; she ferries as much as she can over to the table as she keeps watch over Luna out of the corner of her eye. The latter sets the portable stove alight before gingerly transferring the boiling pot onto it. Through the glass lid, Seven can finally make out some of its contents: the pot is split into two sections, one half containing a pale yellow broth, while the other houses a scarier, oily red liquid.

“Lunes, at some point you’re gonna have to explain how this works to me.”

It takes several more minutes of setting the table and beckoning from Luna before Seven feels comfortable to sit. A bowl of mixed sauces topped with cilantro sits in front of each of them, with a fork and spoon—and a set of trainer chopsticks, a joke on Luna’s part, much to Seven’s chagrin—included with hers. With a dramatic flourish, Luna lifts the lid to the pot, and they’re both hit with a brief wave of heat as a plume of steam blossoms. A wonderfully rich aroma fills the small apartment, and the February winter chill instantly melts away.

“I guess it’s like, uh, fondue?” Luna explains. “Not that I’ve ever tried that myself… But watch, you just take what you want here, like this, when the broth is boiling...”

She pries away a slice of what appears to be finely cut lamb, swirling it around in the pale broth to cook for a few seconds before placing it in Seven’s bowl.

“Make sure to get it real good in that dipping sauce, and if you need a little extra spice,” she waves a hand over the angry red half of the pot, “then you use this side.”

The smell is truly divine, a hearty aroma rising from one half of the pot, cut with the peppery fumes from the other half. Its oily surface bubbles in a magma-like fashion, and Seven can’t help but regard it with a hint of fear.

“Is it normal to have a spicy side? It looks so…”

Luna laughs. “I’ve just never had this kind before! It’s always fun when there are two, don’t you think? I think they pair well together.”

She’s skeptical, but it’s hard to resist Luna’s enthusiasm as she begins throwing in ingredients to simmer, tending to the pot like a witch tends to her cauldron. Before long, the small apartment is filled with delicious aromas and raucous laughter. (and the occasional tears, as Seven discovers very quickly how truly hot one half of the pot is). The table quickly becomes a mess, splattered with water and sauce as the careful arrangement of raw ingredients scatter all over, yet neither of them pay any mind. Seven can’t remember the last time food as ever tasted this good, or the last time a meal in general has ever been this fun.

It shouldn’t surprise her, really. It’s always fun when it’s the two of them.

The night wears on, food is steadily finished, and eventually the time to clear the table comes. Seven has to lean back in her chair, feeling as though her stomach will burst.

“Ugh… Luna, how are you even moving? I’m so full.”

Her companion truly doesn’t look much better off than her, yet Luna continues to do her best to clear away as much of the table as she can. Muttering a promise to help her in a bit, Seven painstakingly moves to the old couch nearby, collapsing onto it with a groan.

Minutes pass by, and the sensation in her stomach doesn’t fade. Even with her eyes closed, she can still hear Luna shuffling about, her footsteps slow. She can’t stand the thought of hauling that large pot of broth anywhere in their current state, and Seven calls out, “Luna! We’ll get it tomorrow. Come sit before you throw up and we have to clean up more.”

There’s no response, but she feels the weight of someone plopping into the space next to her. The sudden jostle elicits another whine from Seven.

“Don’t… I’m gonna barf.”

“Not on me, you’re not.”

It’s instinctual and automatic, the way Luna crawls into Seven’s arms, the way the latter opens them for her. Their tangled forms are unceremoniously draped over the couch, smelling rather unpleasantly of meat. Yet in spite of her roiling stomach, how much she wishes to simply turn into a formless blob right there and then, somehow she feels content and peaceful in that moment. There’s nowhere else she’d rather be.

“So, is there a reason you wanted to turn us into overinflated beach balls for New Year’s or…?” she mumbles.

Luna doesn’t answer immediately, and Seven can almost hear her thinking.“We’d have it whenever we visited family. Not so much with my folks here though.” She shifts, lifting her head so she can look at her. “Hot pot is always better with family and friends, you know?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s just me here,” Seven snorts in response.

Luna smiles peacefully, lowering her head to tuck it against her shoulder. “That’s all I need.”

Seven doesn’t say anything, because what more needed to be said? With Luna, she knows they could find fun and joy in nothing more than a brown paper sack. Seven and Luna, Luna and Seven. What more did they even need, when they already had it all?

“Hey, Sev?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think I’m gonna move from the couch until morning, just saying.”

She lets out a laugh, wrapping her arms tighter around her as she brings her closer. The discomfort in her stomach hasn’t abated, but she finds she doesn’t mind much, feeling nothing but warmth and content in this little space just for the two of them.

------------------------------------------------------------

Later…

Luna, with a grunt, has contorted her body on the cool floor of her tiny kitchen as she rummages through the lower cupboards. Various mismatched pieces of dishware are extracted and sorted in a slow, painstaking effort to organize.

Without a light, she can’t see all the way into the dark interiors of the cupboards, and she extends her arm deep into one, searching for anything left in this particular spot. Her fingers brush against something cold and metallic, and Luna, confused, pulls it out.

Its weight and odd shape are explained when the object comes to light; it’s a small portable stove, covered lightly in dust from sitting forgotten in the back of a cabinet for who knows how long. She recognizes it as the one she used for a very specific type of meal, one she hasn’t had in about as long as the stove has gone unused. Memories involuntarily bubble up to the surface, ones she thought she buried.

A boiling pot of broth. Startled shrieks as hot liquid splashes. A diverse, colorful spread across the table, as close to a modern feast they may ever know. A pot split in half, mild to spicy, light to dark, two halves of a whole. Boisterous, joyous laughter, warm smiles.

After all this time, she’s always taken by surprise, again and again, of how it can sneak up on her. The silence within the apartment suddenly becomes too loud: no other footsteps to be heard, no other voice besides her own to listen for within this tiny space. No matter how hard she tries to look away from it, it dances in her periphery, the frayed edges of the Seven-shaped hole in her universe.

With a huff, Luna unceremoniously shoves the burner back into its dark corner. Abandoning her kitchen to a state of unorganized stacks of dishes and kitchenware, Luna grabs her keys and throws on a jacket. She storms out of the apartment, begging for escape from its claustrophobic stillness, for the release that may come with the air that could blow it all away.

Yet no matter how long she runs, she can’t shake off the faint scent of broth that clings to her wherever she goes.

=======================================

BONUS:

A bell rings as the door opens, the members of Soft Violence laughing as they step into the restaurant. Avina halfheartedly tries to hush them as they signal to staff, who eventually lead them to an available table.

“Damn, look at what they’ve got over at that table,” Pope points out. “Maybe we should get that.”

“Pope, don’t just stare at someone else’s food!” Avina chastises.

Seven grins at their boisterousness, switching her attention to the menu. Compared to the others, it doesn’t take her long to pick out what she likes, and after a bit of waiting their table is laden with various dishes, family style. Pope and Kieran waste no time piling food onto their plates as they dig in.

“Damn, Seven, you were so right ordering this,” Kieran praises through a mouth full of food. “This is so good!”

“That’s great, man, but do you think you could tell me without spitting all over the rest of the food?” she laughs.

She spoons some mapo tofu onto her plate, a personal favorite of hers. The sauce isn’t quite the shade of red she likes, but she doesn’t fault it too much as she takes a bite. It’s got a strong flavor profile, expected of this particular dish, perfectly fine, and yet…

“It’s so good.”

Seven purses her lips, contemplative. “It’s not bad, but to be honest it’s not as good as when Luna ma—”

The name slips out before she can stop herself, and her throat immediately closes after. Everyone at the table freezes, in a moment that really only lasts for a second, yet it feels like it stretches for an eternity. Seven claws herself back to reality, forcing words out her lips.

“I mean, it’s fine, I guess. Yeah.” She conspicuously piles more tofu onto her plate, aggressively shoving more pieces in her mouth, even though she feels like throwing up. Even though all she wants is to spit it out, to tear away at the inside of her mouth, to rip out the memories that she now knows are painfully sewn into not just her soul, but her very flesh.

It just isn’t fair. She wants to run out and scream. To curse the one person in the world responsible, to scratch away at her own skin in hopes of exorcising the ghost that haunts her every step, every breath, and down to every last bite.

She never could have imagined sitting at a table of four could be lonelier than sitting at a table of two.

But she has to remind herself that it’s lunchtime, and they’re in a public restaurant. So Seven swallows her food and her pain, like she’s done so often before.

Avina, as always, is the first to recover. “Oh, is it really that good? I’ll try some.”

The tense moment passes as everyone else refocuses on the meal, leaving Seven woodenly chewing for the rest of the night, trying hard to ignore the way everything turns to ash on her tongue.

#infamous if #infamous oc #seven lawless #my writing #owlscratch #oc: luna gao #revising this i realized i was in some kind of mood when i started this LOL #i'm gonna be straight up with y'all i think i either just had hot pot when i began #or i was really craving it LMAOOOO #anyway food as a love language my beloved: SHADOW VERSION haha

[petersheltonblog]

Owlscratch. #sculpture #sculptor #contemporaryart #contemporarysculptor #contemporarysculpture #petersheltonsculptor #petersheltonsculpture @petersheltonsculptor @petershelton.com @petershelton @sheltonbigart #petershelton #bigart #sheltonbigart @metmuseum @metbreuer https://www.instagram.com/p/Bt2ckfPly-2/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=qtawf5wjtkza

#sculpture #sculptor #contemporaryart #contemporarysculptor #contemporarysculpture #petersheltonsculptor #petersheltonsculpture #petershelton #bigart #sheltonbigart

[clockworkjackdaw]

Sometimes I think I can write

So here's the little blurble 

The now frozen crust of snow crunched noisily under Garu's feet as he stomped toward his cabin, shifting the armload of wood to open the sturdy oaken door. He nearly dropped the logs all over the entryway when his door swung open before he could lay his hand on it. One arm, covered in speckled fur and well muscled, stopped his forward momentum.

"Careful, there, pinkie." The voice was sharp and clear, like a bell, and belonged to a stocky feline-like woman standing before him, keeping him from dropping the load of firewood.

He gaped dumbly for a moment at the shelvarian woman before bristling, "I told you not to just barge into my house when I'm out, Fera."

She laughed and pulled away "You were only out chopping wood, Garuda. Not like I was gonna steal anything."

Garu huffed, shuffling the rest of the way inside before carefully setting his firewood on the stack against the far wall. He took time to make it look orderly before straightening and brushing his hands off on the soft leather patches of his pants.

"Are you here about a job?"

His visitor turned from poking a wreath made up of tree branches and nodded, pulling a small pad of paper from the pouch at her hip, "Not too far from here, actually. Heard about it on my way up."

Garuda paused, surprise written across his face. He hadn't heard of any sightings nearby, not even so much as rumor. He motioned to a small, rough hewn chair, "Let's hear about it."

#Keev's characters #OCs #owlscratch

[owlafterhours]

621! and 621 stealing someone's coat because it's cold,

(they do not appear to be having the same conversation,)

#armored core 6 #coral containment sphere #c4 621 #g5 iguazu #ac6 #that's a bogan mullet there! #or an attempt at one #owlscratch

[owlafterhours]

pot, kettle

sir, that's my emotional support ice worm,

621 has a habit of making little critters it seems - Walter isn't sure if he got that from Carla or if he was like that before augmentation, but it has made keeping the place cleaner, so he's not sure if it's something he wants to complain about.

The sea spider's a fire alarm system+extinguisher and the helianthus are actual roombas that can do heavy duty cleaning - it can even clean carpet! The iceworm is also a roomba, but looong, and good for getting into corners and very specific cleaning. It will also come and twine around your legs if you 'call' it :)

I think by the time he's got all these critters, Walter's also taken to dressing down more on base - but he'll always have his harness on, juuust in case. He acknowledges that it's small comfort, but he'll take what security he can haha

621's eyes are pretty bad and they suspect they deteriorated during his time being frozen tuna. It doesn't impact his ability to pilot an AC so its all good! It's a part of why his clothes are the way they are; it lets him use literal plugins. That being said, they're also not great for him, so he usually gets around with a tricked out cane instead.

#armored core 6 #c4 621 #handler walter #ice worm #coral containment sphere #owlscratch #i cannot explain how much the iceworm just entertains me #all of them are so cute... #tbh can't say im happy w/ walter's nose but i can work on that..

[owlafterhours]

"Yeah yeah, they're getting as many of those Coral-aug'd guys on this as they can - nothing higher than fourth gen. Nothing but old tech. ACs? They just stop. Drones? Don't come back, and if they do? Can't get anything useful out of them. It's bad enough that the PCA's willing to cut a deal with the corps - 'cause word is? Rubicon-Three's haunted."

THIS WAS. MEANT TO BE A ONE-OFF FUNKY LIL' ASTRONAUT AU. NOTHING WAS MEANT TO HAPPY BEYOND hehe iguazu in funny space suit

anyway,

G5 Iguazu, on loan from the Red Guns because he gets no fucking say in anything, is on a dinky little space station with some suits and techies as they work out how exactly they'll use him as a lab-rat to approach the now, 'haunted' planet. No machinery has made landfall and no signals have gone in or out of the place since an incident three years ago that turned Rubicon-3 into a maelstrom of Coral.

The suits had tried. He'd had a good laugh or ten about how futile their efforts were with Volta. Not that that lasted long - augmented humans were catnip or some shit, and he'd drawn the short straw of being one of the few naturally marinated lab rats around.

So he's stuffed in this shitty suit that he's sure came from a museum and then thrown out of airlock like fish bait. And what do you know? He starts bloody hallucinating. That's the only thing he's willing to call it, cause none of this shit is showing on the cameras or sensors, beyond a rise in coral levels.

The nerds are excited though. 'It's promising!' and 'we're getting closer!', but all Iguazu knows is that these are like fucking aliens or ghosts or some shit, and there's something about that freak in space with all their little buddies that makes him want to punch their face in.

--

Clickbait title: SECRETS FROM THE HAUNTED RUBICON-3! 7 THINGS THE PCA DON'T WANT YOU TO KNOW.

Despite everything, Iguazu's actually pretty dedicated to making sure every safety procedure is completed before he goes out, but he also tends to make small mistakes; the most common is him not tucking all of his hair under the cap whoops.

The PCA does not have contact with their coral weapons on the ground and it Concerns Them Greatly.

A large stock of inactive Gen-4s had disappeared sometime around when Rubicon-3's situation - this Also Concerned The PCA Greatly.

The guinea pig from Arquebus' side is O'Keeffe and he is also Not Very Happy About It.

The situation on the station is full of intrigue that Iguazu absolutely does Not care about, but it's safe to say that even he recognizes that it's a tense situation of decidedly un-jolly cooperation.

The planet seems quite volatile; threads of coral escape from the atmosphere like solar flares before being drawn back into the storm.

Is Rubicon-3 Actually Haunted? Who Knows, But Iguazu's Definitely Seeing Something Out There!

#armored core 6 #g5 iguazu #c4 621 #coral containment sphere #EXCEPT ITS ACTUALLY A CORAL CONTAINMENT SPHERE THIS TIME #this this really spiraled #owlscratch #many familiar faces on this dinky space station #kinda rolling this around like a ball of clay right now #truly the dangers of asking 'what if?' while drawing #i Do need to fix up that spacesuit properly i can see some sizing issues but this Was Meant To Be A Quick And Fun #So I Kept It Quick And Fun.

[owlafterhours]

BARREN FLOWER

#armored core 6 #o'keeffe #thank you to my friends and tumblr whos infected me with the ac6 #i dont even have the time to play this yet but #soon....hopefully....crying #anyway o'keeffe is such a mood #might want to clean this up more when i've had more practise w/ the mechs #owlscratch #coral containment sphere

[owlafterhours]

portrait hanging

me trying to work out heights as well...im a sucker for capes, sorr

#armored core 6 #c4 621 #owlscratch #coral containment sphere

[owlafterhours]

happy delusion day everyone!!!

#armored core 6 #c4 621 #g5 iguazu #owlscratch #coral containment sphere #technically past the day where i am but w/e #sorry if there's anything egregiously terrible #something about 621 n iguazu really just makes the brain churn #ngl its kinda like that trips over wallet falls out meme #everything spilling out on the ground...

[owlafterhours]

got to the icefields!! changed up our AC (at last) and got some more brainworms (additional notes under cut o/)

also got to bonk mr vii on the head :)

Cane is Absolutely non-standard; it doubles as an icepick and has sensors in it for general use. Honestly, fairly limited use if he actually ends up trapped in thick ice, but it's probably quite effective against humans aha,

He prefers having a coat to this, but won't deny that this cloak also provides quite a bit of warmth.

Am using the basho head rn and that shrunken in head+no-neck look is kiinda great www

Slowly, Unpeeling the bandages,

ayre :) she's got some fun ideas!

#armored core 6 #c4 621 #v.vii swinburne #i'd really like to get drawing other npcs that've been living rent free in my brain for a while #but im also having far too much fun with mechs n what not #owlscratch #coral containment sphere

[owlafterhours]

Loader 4 x 621, combat-ready (and playing with his tts) and casual \o/! etc. stuff under cut;

lots of pockets!

probably decently good for rubicon for real, asides from maybe having a few too many strap but w/e

it's a fairly modular outfit though, easy to adjust for different circumstances.

I wanted to keep some scrappiness to it! not too sleek or smooth, but i did want to make it a bit chunkier hmm

the casual version is also fairly outdoor work, practical stuff.

the finder eye does help him 'see' but honestly he's not a fan of the vibe, so he makes do with a white cane he scounged from...somewhere! it's very old. there's an upgrade in the works.

#armored core 6 #c4 621 #vaguely feel like i want to go a biiiit further with this but #for now!!!! #i feel the rust shaking off a bit #owlscratch #ah i forgot the patches #aiyo.... #coral containment sphere

[owlafterhours]

please,

#honkai star rail #hsr blade #hsr caelus #tbh trailblazer is perma preservation for me bc i also #only have march for preservation #but i have no destruction asides from tb so #please i dont want to mobhunt all the time ;w; #owlscratch

[owlafterhours]

burning tides

#c4 621 #coral containment sphere #owlscratch #it's been busy but the brainworms are still strong #i guess even with the recent news its like...ah well guess i'll just have to Do My Part

[owlafterhours]

Rating: T, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationship: C4-621 Raven/G5 Iguazu (One-sided) Characters: C4-621 Raven, G5 Iguazu, Ayre, ALLMIND Summary: Or as 621 likes to think of it: if fate is what you make of it, and you are very good at making things, then, surely, you can remake the fate of another. (Post-Alea ending, not that spicy imo but mind the tags)

Inspired by all the post-Fires AU I see around! A worldbuilding note under the cut bc some things got, haha, cut-

So this post Alea AU is like, kind of, Coral Release made a lot more mutations and they're mutations of different types some are more creature etc.etc. which is to say, the old BAWS arsenals are like, nests, of old BASHO machines. They're like super territorial, and always live in packs. You step into one of their nests without thinking about it and they Will come swarm you. You might see one or two mixed parts in there but they're all like, if they're not a BASHO they're probably a construction MT of some sort.

I think it would also be very cute to have roosts of Lammers and Nachts. Yes it is because they are bird themed. But also, imagine them divebombing like magpies???? Lammergeier swooping season…

#armored core 6 #c4 621 #g5 iguazu #coral containment sphere #owlscratch #cw dehumanization #621 seen getting hit with 'love at closest attempt to kill them' #ayre has soooo many doubts lmao #i am cringe but i am free

[owlafterhours]

i succumbed to more ac6 x ffxiv brainrot; Locksmith Freud (The Necromancer)

casual miqo freud, allround good raider who spends a normal amount of time looking over his logs, rps at balam after the tier's ended. sometimes will fantasia for what stats it gives him, but generally just a super greedy dps (not that it's been difficult recently, according to him, with the sizes of those hitboxes).

Open Faith (Saint of the Firmament)

lalafel raidlead snail, usually wears whatever raid gear is current dyed purple - to his delight, the top weapons are also purple! to his suffering, however, freud still doesn't listen to him, and it drives him up the walls. spends too much time looking at logs, even after the tier's ended.

[snail's text in the second panel: So don't forget to stack with your partner and stay away from the people baiting the lasers-- snail in the third panel: ARE YOU EVEN PAYING ATTENTION freud: yes snail.]

#v.i freud #v.ii snail #coral containment sphere #aethersands research facility #owlscratch #ffxiv #mild regrets with the spur of the moment ff armor #it's been a while... #armored core 6