I’m not thinking about having a threesome with Harvey and Eddie—nope.
outofcatnip; WIP doodle for my Ammy-boo and our little BROTP. I just CAN’T with these two. I friendship them so hard I just—ASDFGHJKLKJHG. And Ammy in wolf-form is so fluffy I just wanna smoosh my face in its fluffiness asdfghjkl. After this, it’ll be on to chibi doodles of them derping in Brazil. 83 Also, I guess this counts as a 926 follower celebration thingy?
“It has taken some time after such a tedious winter. But my wait is finally over, thus begins and sets the warmth that is spring once more, my dear Selina. This evening has proven to be ever calm.”
“The winter was a bit harsh, wasn’t it? It feels like true renewal—that we all get a fresh start. And with the sunset, with you…it’s like I’m allowed to feel at peace, even if it’s just for a moment.”
”Another soothing evening— this Summer has not disappointed yet. As I hope the fellow human folk bask in it’s glory.”
“It is beautiful, isn’t it, Ammy? And to think that everything warmed up so quickly—I finally got to see the sakura in bloom while it’s warm.~”
outofcatnip; Here’s an itty-bitty selfie for Munday, that won’t clog up yer dashes. …It’s been awhile since I took one. 8I
This sculpture is so beautiful. I am tempted to brave Cleveland just to go see it.
This angel was sculpted in 1924 by Herman Matzen and now sits on the Haserot family plot in the Lake View Cemetery in Cleveland, Ohio. It has been called “The Angel of Death Victorious”, or just Haserot, for the family plot he sits upon.
He sits, wings outstretched and staring out into the distance with a blank gaze. In his hands is not a sword, but an upside down torch, symbolizing an extinguished life. Over the years, a patina has developed all over the surface of the bronze, but long dark streaks are left down his face that resemble tears.
This sculpture is absolutely haunting and you can almost feel grief rolling off of it just looking at the picture.
Finally agreeing with me? I don’t suppose this would loosen you up for something to drink, would it? Don’t worry—I’ll keep it from Bruce.
Etiquette blistered forward as the golden trail of proliferous stepping sewn a fleeting dream in the counting paws. Infant buds to sprout in hastening steed over the glided knowings of the devoted guardian. She had wondered a hopeless reverie time and time again. Cautioned by many of taking heed of the valour she kept neatly within the boons of her heart. Neatened curves of delicate anatomy grazed neatly in a pacing motion, sweetened still by the flora that gave silent haven yonder the azure skies. Tracing outlines of her mighty Brush, thickest obsidian ink to balance natural alluring atmospheres and bending will of summoning gales to bustle through unknown towns. Barking and howling would satisfy naught; but an attempt to try these latter remained futile in impending events. Fairest maiden was this oriental divine, hailing from lands whom etched their ways of that of noble dragons and flaring designs to the eastern coasts. Acceptance of oneself became fitting lifestyles of mortals bound, ever adored by their mother sun whom harnessed an everlasting devotion to sanctify her people. As was the right and abiding duty of a ruler and one of pantheon lines. To then dismiss bliss had been a trembling crime itself, another must neither abolish all pleasures granted safe passage by the Kami and their wholesome paths. Push and pull are divided, reflecting upon that of east and west. Delving cultures and history notes carved outlining mistakes, whether it be of a phantasm or mere dim dream. Bursts of luminance would lay to hefty waste in tuneful appendages, taken wings that glided through tempest roars. Symbolising equal faith, as dawn shaded hour always chimed the shadows beckoning before the grand awakening of her solar monument. Whether the matrons kindred lay in lunar kingdoms or rising storms of summers end. A flame that bowed an immortal duty, neither wasted upon naked flare, for it must illuminate.
Leap before you think
Vibrant still were hues to Spring and shading dawn; captured to fair plum lips that rose behind the vessel of a canines paw. Grandest of attributes adorned total divinity, accompanying equal favour that was transient to the golden verdure that sprouted forth. Single exhaling from woody dampening breathe, ceasing the frozen landscapes that accompanied these Northern paths. Following a melancholy road, glistening still were the ending efforts to a journeys delight. ‘Tis the adventure itself that truly matters, curdling as mighty waves coursed through a essences veins. Crisp and crunching against dusted haunches, ashen under a pristine pelt in aligning senses through ushering bounties. Ears taken hold and heightened in sharpened tones, flickering in every ounce and second trickling of vibrations. Abyssal rustling of an alabaster tendril, seeping across from the sacred carmine disk situated upon this passionate beast. By both the immortals of her lands, her kin and beloved relatives whom hailed each corner and flowing stream. Were the spirits too keening amongst these trees? Whispering willows reached the fair notice of this ivory mother, draped in regal garbs was she then. Men saw naught but a meddling pup, itching a wayfaring existence whom cleansed an unworthy establishment of a canines common interest. As addressed amongst the golden pagodas of highest heavens, pondering still if these Norse realms held such pride and only sought that of the earth. Gods of both soil and incarnated skies; steps that ceased in soon beating to meet an intoned gaze. Ebon locks caressed a porcelain visage, distinct of unknown beauty of those whom she had admired. Titles befitted all, but too many and countless aliases proved to be a wretched hassle. Coating fine filaments of opposing hue that shaded against an unfortunate spirit. Selina? Those tied to the lunar orb.
An impatient behaviour, accompanied thus by a stubborn demeanour, proved conducted tempers of fury. Rarely had anger piqued and filtered across so of the beasts psyche. Callings of punishable tendencies, yet such proved to naught be a surprise of an ancient maiden. Jovial tunes now ceased; silent musings etched bearings to put an end to this foolish exposition. Mortal affairs or not, this lupine was that of an older line, glancing heritage soaked in golden tress. Presence noted in single regard, as ears flickered once more to reach a stretched state of the beauty and her form. Poise still as illuminated guiding that was blind to all men and common mortal alike. Piteous was this fact, as supernatural flames burned an ignited knowing in these provinces beyond. Humble fear ceased a long time ago, when a she-wolf was but plain in her coating markings and wondering a journey that lacked memoirs of truth. Execution and death neither bothered one endowed in natural law and binding— all the same was this a corrupted force. Witnessing the splinter and inhuman violation of innocent, was a tightness sight left for only heartless. Nebulous orbs lay inquisitive noting a fated despair written to a fair line of criminals. Wavering a slick tail, questioning now to vocal actions that spread in a harsh barking rhapsody. A snarl or so to soon follow at those whom read out the titles and fair names of morrow ridden folk. Baring now witnessed canine jaws, fangs that grew in accordance of the frame and feminine works of the lupine. But a mere bite of these magnificent jaws could render a male useless from waste down— nay, she was a kindle soul yet. But this rush of a empowering force hastened a burning richness that coated but a single realm. This aura disturbed the beast so, now raising a snout skywards in common inquiry.
Azure tapestries woven together in strident splays of beauty for mortal mirth, amorphous volumes of aqueous discretion sculling across such saturated expanses in lieu of the furious beast that was to alight upon mortal throne frameworked upon organic looms weaving forth abysmal tales to be wrought upon fleeting fancies yet incumbent within draconic mind effervescent with malevolent sketches of ancient rumination. Such was the nature of the world eater, Alduin, arisen from the etches of time and hellbent upon proceeding with original intents, carmine perceptions finally alighting upon humanity’s reserves of fortitude against outside indolence that threatened fiery virulence upon unsuspecting mortals regressed within pompous affairs unlike the threat waiting to behoove them from the skies. Nefarious extrusions beat once upon streaking winds plummeting from aloft to buffet the mountaintops escalating with heightening, jagged duress against the flight of winds tearing upon achromatic densities windswept into vaporous extant and whisked into the very winds and the peerless flight. Bellowing maunders vociferated from strident heights as Alduin made his presence known, much to mortal depression and skepticism daring forth whispering ambivalence that was quickly dismissed for the ample roars of turbulent winds easily denouncing the deadened peace that strangulated freedom in the wake of death’s attendance upon the periphery of Helgen that would soon find itself within the straits of demoralizing destruction should the Dovah soaring high aloft, a predator circling for ample opportunities promised by dissuaded prey below, the World Eater’s plot for destruction looming high as the afternoon sun cresting into its zenith at the epoch of the Nordic skies. Rays of indelible hope were sequestered behind the retinue of graying masses as though the presence of another sun goddess inspired fearful reticence of both her and the restive evil alighting upon the world once again despite being from a time far-flung within the future.
Variations of mortal regress entreat upon alienated tidings, the rabble of liberation’s criminality and dulcet tonalities lifting within flagrant airs as the turbulence of decaying life’s regret was subtly abolished within the wake of death’s first monumental effacing casualty to their cause was dealt with deprecating attention for those struck within silent observances. Vestiges of such strength were struck asunder, though few remained pressing in their strength. Jarl Ulfric’s eyes hardened with a rigid sort of frigidity as the thickly swaddled man was girdled straight with a stoic and stalwart sort of bravery that those within nearby vicinity were awestruck by, this the man that had inspired to capture their lives and sell their souls to worthy cause coloring Nordic entrenches crimson and navy as though respective tidings were swept across the land in swells of the like that sharply polarized the reaches into tones of neutrality and of stark contrasts that left little to remain untouched by the rampant civil wars proliferating with deadly touch across the region. Emanations of disquiet rippled with assuaged fervors that were greatly diminished in lieu of the barking demands of Legate Rikke and her entourage of guards who seemed to have only exacerbated the barely quenched furies of their authoritarian jurisdiction that were unfailing in their intent. However, the roiling bellows of draconian demand uttered forth and rippling throughout with languorous resonance that echoed with terrifying dissonance throughout tensity-beleaguered minds. And despite the maundering rumbles diffusing throughout camouflaged airs, the Jarl threw a suspicious glance at the silence resident upon the persona of the cat thief merely focusing upon the pristine, blanchette of a wolf with stunning airs of silence that piqued the man’s interest, knowing her to be a thief and knowing that the impossibility of her traitorous motives to be made known could imperil them all, yet he had no other votive but to remain silent and swear hope upon the fealty of his men who seemed languishing within trepidation themselves.
The girl…she must be planning something. If the rumors are indeed true, it cannot bode well. If it comes to it, she shall be the first to die. After all, I highly doubt that was merely the wind…
A stern exchange of quietude yet laden with volumes of magnitude passed between he and Ralof, they three of the last remaining of their caravan. The Legate passed her stern physiognomy above the demeaning countenances of rebellious fare, focusing instead upon the wolf currently making headway towards them, a brow lifting beneath the silvery bulk of sheltering metallics, scoffing derisively. “Shoot it if it comes too close. I don’t have time for scavengers making an early appearance.” However, the creature’s strange decals and abundant light that seemed to source independently from even the sun, impossibilities and legends etched in canine articulation as blanched extrusions shone forth with pearly divinities that spoke of heightened caliber. However, in the land hardened by the appearance of magical creatures, such perceived and misinterpreted abhorrence detailed upon canine visage simply conveyed forth magical malevolence. A mere gesture of one of her guards beckoned forth an advance, pleated folds gesturing forth as bare extrusions strode forth, the unsheathing of a sword seemingly echoing throughout the impasse of silence weighing upon them all. Passages of hostility borne towards the lupine-formed goddess were noticed only by the young thief seemingly attuned to celestial graces, the man striding forth to conceive of flagrant offenses. The Legate was mired within the pals of detachment and was swift to forget of the man’s aforementioned task, gesturing to the cat thief and boisterously announcing, “You there! Thief! You chose the wrong path, didn’t you? Following the tenants of the goddess Nocturnal a bit too astutely, isn’t that so?” Flippantly jerking her thumb towards the execution block, her foot rested upon the desecrated body beheaded, flinty perceptions watching as it fell heavily to the side to make space for the next victim before the silently jeering countenances, equal revulsion borne from them all at such lowly occupation.
Escalations of rumbling maunders crested within the futility of human notion as the cries of the infernal beast culminated to abysmal zenith, the mien of complete diffidence slowly dissipating for one of complete focus, the thief working through her binds with deliberation as flares of injustice tempered through by the repletion of configured actions were acted upon and resonant themes beckoned action with the aid of a small blade slicing through roped bounds with imperceptible precision. Though the binds were quick to fall, slender digits hastily captured their descent and secreted them along with the blade in a small tear within the inseam of a sleeve, the illusion of capture maintained despite the thief’s freedom fully afforded, emerald optics remained steadfast in her presence and her glare cut through chestnut orbs possessed by the Legate despite the dull shadow antecedent from the brash escalation of her visage as pertinent frays of exchanges clearly denoted Selina’s deluge. Though it was unknown to the rest, she’d set forth a preceding conspiracy in which would truly evolve into an advantage of shock. At the border where she’d been taken, the fellow thieves of shadowy intents had journeyed with her, though were soon to disperse upon her frantic plea and she’d been taken in their place as a nearly sacrificial proxy and yet they’d all schemed together before her forceful departure. Lilting remedies had been vowed and promises sworn, and so she’d been taken. However, the culmination of her journey had at last reached its equinox and a nascent advent incumbent upon her mind. Laden with proliferating intents, the young woman knew that her khajiit comrades were within close proximity, ready upon her command to ambush the lessened number of Imperials, pigheaded gratification having thinned their number and leaving but a few to tend to the executions.
The gods help those who help themselves, right? Least, that’s what I’ve come to see—literally.
“Alright, now!” languorous command prevailed upon the stunned vastness, a series of unconsidered talons erupting from her gloves at the apex of her nails, clenched ivories borne it the ferocity of predatory grit before as metallic fixtures effaced armored physiognomy and the Legate drew back without a cry, rather reflexive action. The heralding of camaraderie manifest as both votive intents and the decry of battle, the clash of blades commencing as few slipped beneath helms, augmenting speed and cunning with the wickedness of dishonorable modes of combat as were customary to the thief, though Selina’s ranges were directed upon them as she meandered with unparalleled grace throughout the ensuing battle, the harmonization of clashing blades and the symphony of war cries as khajiit engaged Imperial with the liberated aid of the Stormcloaks, directing lengthening strides towards the she-wolf present not far from the demand of battle. Selina hunkered near the canine entity as achromatic configuration was immediately defended by the young woman, raven-tressed crown currently hooded twisting as another sound was pronounced above the commotion, an unfurling vociferation demanding great attentions. Selina watched with an accrued amount of horror as the fulsome might of an ebony-infused dragon alighting the precipice of an ascendent tower worked of crudely hewn stone, draconian mien bellowing forth a mighty call upon the resonant blistering winds, the calm of the skies drawn into a gyrating, aqueous volume that emitted a fearsome effulgence of chromatic light that burdened the skies, the thunderous emanations plaguing forth and dispersing absolute destruction and calamitous reign threatening idle bystanders and breakouts of battle alike.
Selina’s emerald orbs pooled with panic as she efficiently drawn above her face a form-fitting cloth as to protect it from the calamities of dust proliferating throughout, the destruction wrought upon mortal homesteads brokering panic and pitiful diffusion. Stricken as the dragon ascended into the azure expanse of the sky, the nimble thief caught sight of a contingent of survivors, jaundiced strides upon fortitude of stone as they made direct headway towards the keep, the last sanctuary within the village of Helgen that could possibly withstand the onslaught of a dragon. Biting upon tinctured roseate, the thief so no other option. Upon the flurry of calamitous storm and fiery rain, Selina spoke softly but within the tuft of prickling furs denoting the tapered ear, “Listen, I know what you are, and I’m not sure where you’re from but we need to leave. I’m sorry, but I can’t afford to have you be burned to a crisp out here,” and acting with hastened action. She hefted the canine upon her back in the manner of a shepherd with a lamb, casting an anxious glance back as Alduin poured forth an intense conflagration of flames along with the meteors hurtling from the sky in flaming abundance, a latticed, metal-worked visor flippant upon her emerald optics and preserving them from damage to be interred upon by the flames, her worry now completely extended to the wolf-like goddess mounted upon her shoulders like a lamb. Darting forth, meandering graces proliferated through deterrent obstacles crashing forth in calamitous volleys, dashing with all speed towards Ralof towards the entrance of the keep, praying to all gods and goddesses to preserve them in their flight.
No… I guess not. I’m just on edge. I’m sorry.
Don’t be. People like us need to be. You’re not doing your job right if you can sleep at night, right?