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  • At this point in time, Ewan felt he had worn out his welcome. He had joined the Veil, he had done some tasks, he had thrown a party, he'd made maybe a couple of almost-friends, gotten a promotion for reasons that still seemed beyond him, and now he was here. Ewan was a known face, a known name- "known" of course, being a subjective term that, in this case, really only meant if someone went "Have you met Ewan?" most would reply "Oh, uh, yeah I know him". This did not mean people knew him. This did not mean he necessarily had people he felt close to, people who made the Veil feel like home. This was why it felt like he had outstayed something. Because Ewan was not a resident of the Veil in his mind, he was a guest that had just stuck around. The dog was an outsider who was loud enough to get people's attention.

    What this meant- the feeling that maybe everyone was getting tired of him- was that there was two possible courses of action. One, pack up and leave. Or, two, do everything he possibly could to have some semblance of home in this place. The first option was shit. Ewan had been alone quite a lot and it sucked, so fuck no would he do that shit on purpose. He'd rather lay down and take it then run away, anyways. He'd stay till he got kicked out. The second option, was alright, but could make the situation worse. Like a teacher's pet trying to prove their worth. But it was better than the alternative, so he went with it.

    This, this ridiculously too-deep train of thought, was how Ewan ended up where he was that morning, making a blanket. More accurately, he was shittily sticking pieces of scrap fabric together in an attempt to make one big backwards ass piece of Franken-scrap-fabric. Something that was uniquely his, to uniquely make his room in the Veil feel like... he belonged? Man this shit sounds dumb as fuck... he thinks, before promptly continuing his scrapbook of felt.

    Ver Million




  • Even a year later she wondered if she truly belonged here in the clans or if she was just fooling herself into denying her true nature when so many things about these groups disagreed so heavily with her way of thinking and acting. She'd always been independent when it came to certain things, always held to her stances on things older clan-creatures clung so heavily to. She was always more adjusted to the life of a drifter, would always hold those attitudes that marked her as one. She'd only dropped that life because she found her loyalty and love tied to individuals and not to clans or titles, she didn't give a rats ass really about clan loyalty or dedication. She was here for the people she loved not to serve or give her respect to leaders who came before her only the ones who'd trusted her with their duties when they left her behind.

    She has family here and that's what keeps her leading and moving forward instead of ditching everything to live with her wife full time in the Ruins or running after the trail of Mercy with intent to never come home until she was back; a desire she desperately wanted to give into. But even without them she still had a duty to her friends here and those who'd earned her liking; Orf, Kira, Enjolras, and in a way Ewan as well who'd made a interesting impression on her. She liked the man a fair bit and did want to get to know him, she wanted to see him grow and saw a potential buddy when she looked at him. Someone she could shoot the shit with, someone she didn't have to worry about protecting her hurting, an equal in every way despite the differences in rank.

    She makes her way over to the young male brow perking up and head tilting at what he holds in his hand ”I hope you don't plan to wear that on your body” she woofs jokingly ”You're a little late to be making another ugly sweater though, so whats this for anyway?”