"Thought and Memory serve their Master well."
"Ye do know 'ow much of a pain in the arse it is to clean grass stains out of clothes, don't ye?" the boy asks in irritation, holding up Jim's filthy blue sweater. "An' ye had to go an' do it during me turn."
His foster-brother gives him a guilty expression, rubbing his neck awkwardly. He hadn't exactly meant to get himself covered in mud.
"An' what's with the whole 'Mole Mania' thing?" he flicks off a piece of dirt from his own shirt. "I get tha' ye needed a theme, but really?"
"Sorry?" Jim offers, trying to back away from the scolding.
"Oi!" Tyler yanks the boy back, eyeing him sternly. "Shoes off."
He looks down at his feet in confusion, only to sigh in defeat. His lovely sneakers are coated in several layers of muck. There goes whatever sense of cleanliness he had.
"Go 'ave a shower an' we can talk 'bout this later," the bronze-haired instructs after picking up the ruined shoes.
"Only if you've cleaned up all the feathers," Jim retorts, earning himself a snort of amusement.
"Aye, was done yesterday," he chucks the dirty items of clothing in the washing machine. "Don't use all the hot water!"
"You don't need it!"
"Bugger off, would ya!" he snaps playfully, baring his teeth in a half-smile.
His foster-brother laughs, ducking down to avoid a pair of his own underwear being thrown at him. He flashes a quick smirk of achievement before slipping out the door.
Tyler sighs to himself, finishing the task at hand as he thinks. Just this morning, he saw something out on the soccer field that made him feel ill. A grotesque figure with glowing gold eyes and roots growing across its back that manipulated the shadows surrounding.
He had actually been sick.
Unsure whether or not it was the result of his mythological imagination or something he'd really seen with his two eyes, he chose the former, and continued on with his day. But the bubbling panic in his system was alarming, and with it still remaining, he's practically trembling with every movement. Something is most certainly not right.
However, he had been pleasantly surprised to discover that Strickler was back in town, taking up the position of acting-principle.
"I'm very glad to be back and excited to get started," the boy grins at his mentor, locking eyes with him for a brief moment. "But let it be known, with me in charge, things are going to change."
That last bit of his small speech makes the dazzling smile falter, because no matter who Strickler claims to be, the darkness was not glossed over. That was a very clear, and very disturbing threat to someone.
But, he's happy to see the man again, having missed the company of the person who taught him how to stand tall throughout his challenges.
After the assembly disperses, he strolls down the bleachers, ignoring the quizzical stares of students nearby. The box in his hands shifts slightly, and he quietly hushes the inhabitant inside, adjusting his grip to be more suitable.
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《Dogears》Trollhunters/Merlin
Fanfiction"All that glitters is not gold, but all that is pure most certainly is." The Dark Ages are over. Camelot has been lost. Killahead is scattered. Those that remember recall bright days filled with the laughter of young boys, one with a crown on his he...
