![[Pouf] Ghosts and Friends by @ducclord](/assets/pixel.png){kind=tracking}
zoom_in
- visibility328
posted last year, edited last year
Looking for their ghostly friends in the dark together
More From family_staralternate_emailducclordSee Morearrow_outward
Similar ArtworksSee Morearrow_outward
WingmanThe crowd chattered relentlessly around Scurlock and Bryon, though it did part easily for Scurlock’s massive form. The two brothers strode side by side, enjoying the mild spring weather during some much-needed time off from their respective jobs. With the carnival in town, they had decided to pay it a visit together, taking in the colorful tents and numerous craft stalls. Bryon, it seemed, had another agenda in mind. “So when are you going to begin courting somespire?” Scurlock did a double take, frowning. “You know I don’t do well with all that… romance stuff,” he said, shrugging. “Besides, the Academy keeps me busy. I don’t have time for that.” “Eh? Weren’t you the one going on about family lines and noble obligations the other day?” “I didn’t mean both of us have to find someone! Just… one of us, and you’re the one who likes to attend social gatherings and parties and all that stuff.” Bryon scoffed. “Come on, there has to be someone who’s caught your eye. What about Bramble? He’s into all the gym stuff like you. Or Sadine, they’ve been eyeing you pretty blatantly the last two times you were in the same room. Or-” “I said no, Bry!” Scurlock growled, rage suddenly roiling in his chest and forcing the glowing markings of his furnace to ignite and spark with energy. “I don’t want to pursue any of that romantic junk. Just because you want to doesn’t mean I have to. Now drop it.” Bryon raised an eyebrow, taking one step back at the display of anger. “I didn’t realize how strongly you felt about this.” “Neither did I,” Scurlock admitted, taking a deep breath to calm his furnace. “Sorry. Can we move on to something else?”Always Gold, Part 2“What a boring party. Dad keeps saying we have to socialize and ‘get ourselves out there’, but I don’t see him talking to a bunch of windbags all night!” Bryon swayed in place a little as Scurlock ranted, still lightly buzzed from the vintage the host of the affair had handed out. Whatever it had been, it had been potent and unlike his older brother, his slight form couldn’t handle liquor that strong. He closed his eyes as Scurlock went on, enjoying the way the breeze cooled his flushed face. Behind them, the mansion of a much older Vespire flooded light into the backyard garden they had fled to for some relief. Even then, Bryon heard others muttering and talking in low murmurs elsewhere in the garden. Dim fairy lights illuminated the small patio they had found, catching the gilding on the ornate bricks beneath their claws. In the distance, Bryon could still hear the violinist playing a slow, elegant tune. “At least this gala isn’t breaking out into a fight like the last one,” Bryon said at last, snorting as he thought back to two weeks ago. “Hey, I’d give anything for a fight!” Scurlock replied, flexing his large claws. “Maybe if someone challenged me to a duel in dad’s honor, we’d actually get somewhere tonight.” “No one would challenge you, Scur,” Bryon said, this time laughing heartily. “You scare half the nobles just by walking into a room!” The violinist’s song drew to a close, and Bryon felt the air of the party start to pivot behind them. He rolled his shoulders and butted his head against Scurlock’s burly shoulder. “Come on, I think the party’s winding down. Let’s say our goodbyes to the host and then we can go for a round of Cliff Swooping before we go home.”