ready & waiting to gatekeep, gaslight & girl(?)boss their way out of every ( and any ) situation they wriggle themselves into.
if you've got a free hand, and some free time, they'll be stealing both for a while to satiate their limitless want for attention
keep them pretty, keep them dangerous & alarian will be drawn like a moth to a roaring flame!
they don't fall for threats, or scare all that easily -- unless you've got a pair of wings to flutter their way!
oh, and hopefully you're alright with the sight of a 'birthday suit', they worked hard on this body, after all! ( they will wear clothes... 65% of the time )
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' lean back a little, ' fiyero says with a glint in her eyes. it's all playfulness, her tail thumping against the mattress behind her as she lounges half atop them.
like finally getting her hands on a treat she'd been wanting, she plays her fingers across alarian's collarbone, tapping and patting. then to the edge of their throat, though her hands stay at the bottom. she leans up to be able to kiss their throat instead, languid, enjoying herself.
then she glances back up, smiling. ' tell me something. anything. i want to feel your voice against my mouth. '
without resistance, they comply. own tail unfurling to allow their backward arch, each set of eyes lowering their gaze the further alarian went. not an inch of their view allowed to be without that candy pink hue.
a gentle inhale follows the progression of the tieflings touch; chest rising with each lifting tap towards their collarbone. the adapters exhale comes while canting their head, escaped breath rattling softly against clicking mandibles behind a growing smile. her very touch is like a rejuvenating blanket of warmth across their skin, near addicting the closer they become. those lips upon their throat enough to elicit a rumble of laughter -- a pleasant chuckle.
"ohh, that's a new one," alarian murmurs, clicking coming to a softened fade as their voice breaks their silence. "most dive in to smother my noise -- less talk, more play and all that." while they speak a hand rises, elongated digits set to twirl and wander within pastel strands.
hair falls away from between their claws as they're brought to rest upon the others shoulder, tenderly scratching shapes against the skin through what fabrics sat between.
"...... how do you like it then, sweet orchid? and," they breathe, tone lowering to deepen the vibrations in their throat, "which pitch do you prefer."
"oh, have you? i am quite an unforgettable face. though it does appear like my memory is failing me, too. why don't we... help each other recall the last time. what do you say?"
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quickly do fingers extend, latching onto newfound strangers bicep. they wait for no invitation, no permission -- arms slipping over and under; gripping with an unspoken purpose. satisfied -- and quite comfortable -- with their hold, weight shifts to offer with it a pull. a nudge in the right direction, even.
"careful, now, big boy. we don't want to be wearing the poor missus home as a toupe now, do we?"
digits squeeze, gently, at the muscle beneath them while their head gives a directional tilt. motioning above the man's head to the woven silk centimeters away. a design alarian had been intently watching take shape within the shops awning. it's done its job well, drawing things in -- not for the spiders benefit, unfortunately.
"she's done too well of a job to be starting over," they begin, cheek coming to rest against the other quite casually. "nice as it was to watch."
｢𓆄｣ "Since when did I need permission to leave the house in comfy clothing?" Hawks is choosing to not take issue with the pattern, but instead: that he's totally dressed down and comfortable.
"since you decided to pick out something more unsightly than a dung beetles savings," they retort, drawing back their hand. as main eyes fix on hawks' face, the lower sets continue their judgement on his so-called comfort.
"comfort and style can work hand-in-hand, chicken scratch. your thrifted bomber jacket from last time i saw you had more flare."
dissatisfaction, displayed in low, muffled clicks. a chittering, of sorts, behind pursed lips and clenched fang. recognition was found in a particular hue of red -- bright and vibrant, similar to their own. wasted on oversized plumage.
a matter they recall loathing the last time paths crossed with this individual. however, they find something new that leads their eyes in a dissatisfied squint. palm finds a place against a jutting hip, bright, white irises traverse downward, then up.
"who allows you to roam the streets in something like that?" alarian raises a hand, wrist rolling in a gesture meant to bring attention to the man's jacket, and it's design.
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❛ I'm never— ❜ satisfied, is what Cecil wants to say, but then his throat is caught and his voice swallowed up with it, making a noise that is half surprise and half hiss as the acid stings his skin.
❛ Nngh, this... ❜
❛ I like it...very much. ❜
His heels settle back onto the ground as he wraps both arms around the scorpion in an attempt to pull him closer. There's a warm, wet, stinging sensation where the other licks him; in return Cecil digs his fingers into Alarian's hair, losing his digits in the lush red locks.
❛ Your hair is so long, I could choke you with it, ❜ the assassin murmurs absently. ❛ But you have other soft spots, yes? Won't you—tell me where? ❜
His eyes are a little glassy, but they're still sparkling like gems.
"you do, don't you?" cooed words accompany a softened hiss, the arachnid's back arching -- folding within the embrace that pulls them in; fastens them to a place they willingly claim as their own. delighted claws rise from their resting place around their preys waist, crawling up along a spine set beneath the adapters touch. it finds a new place to settle, digits curling, hooking in.
chittering, alarian offers a tilted head, their tongue slithering back behind jagged teeth. their smile persists as mandibles take the place of guiding fingers, one such extension curling -- like a finger beneath cecil's chin. tilting, drawing him in.
"does a spider tell its dinner how to escape from its web? you'll get no secrets from me, little monarch."
lowering their head, they accentuate a hooded stare. as if daring the man to explore; find what he wished to know. all the while the mandible beneath cecil's chin lightly trails across the skin, slipping away as it -- and its twin -- retract; hidden away once more.
good luck with that! there are only two individuals in their entire existence that have their trust -- their complete trust -- and it's remained the same two for decades. it take a lot of work and patience for alarian to feel as though they can rely on someone, let alone open up to them.
there have been plenty that have tried, some even still trying, and this bug refuses to budge. they're very particular with their people and for good reason... that they won't share.
they'll certainly try to earn your trust though! for their benefit, of course.
9. Do they swear? Do they remember their first swear word?
they do not! alarian holds their own form of colorful insults or exclamations, avoiding swears most commonly used. they don't find the words all that appealing to listen to, let alone say.
their version of 'swearing' is quite silly, honestly, as its more akin to child-like insults. like using "worm gobbler" or referring to someone as a "grub" or "dung pile". it's all in the way you say them; the tone needs to carry the meaning, y'know?
it's certainly not the first time somebody's made such a remark about her choice of drink. astarion's always had something to say about it, when they were sitting around the barely lingering campfire in the morning. and zevran, of course, with his affinity for a good cup of coffee ... her preference isn't good, she'll admit that much.
but it's perhaps the first time somebody invites themselves to her seat and cup, acting as though she'd allowed either.
she watches with interest, balances her writing feather in hand. reaching forward to shift the little ink pot away from them, she doesn't yet put her notebook away. if they want her full attention, they'll have to fight a little harder for it.
' if you wanted my attention, you could have just asked. ' it's lightly spoken, no true malice behind it. taking the same cup, fiyero rotates it until she spots the new line of charcoal alongside it ... takes a sip while framing her own lips over the print of theirs.
' i doubt you're as sweet as you say, but i'm not one to deprive people, sweetheart. ' she grins, looks them over pointedly. ' as you could tell, i have a taste for the more bitter things in life, too. '
laughter bubbles out as no more than a chirp of amusement, chin coming to rest against the backs of folded hands. they liked this, when they weren't immediately shooed away, left to gingerly worm themselves in where they otherwise weren't invited. an enjoyable hobby, if they were to label it.
"oh, but where's the fun in that? it's simpler to take," as they've already demonstrated, remnants of acidity left to melt against their tongue, mixing with their own. a comforting tingle sitting behind a pleasantly sharp grin.
"especially when it reels those pretty little pearls towards me." his eyes, they mean; a captivating pair that draws in three more, lower pairs falling to the mug -- how he brings it to his mouth from the very same spot the scorpion stole from. there's a hiss rising in their throat, a gentle, airy note; pleased.
"you're more than welcome to settle your doubts, sweet orchid," would that not be fair? after all, they've already stolen a taste... they can offer one back. "but i merely suggest."
slowly, a hand is brought against the table, clawed digits tapping along the surface. playfully catching the rim of their company's ink pot.
when they're caught actually showing that they care. which they are still capable of despite how often they say/act as if they don't.
for a majority of the time, it holds true. they don't care, they hold no shame. they're allowed to do whatever they want whenever they want... but there are rare moments here and there where an attachment is born and they become a little soft hearted.
having that pointed out to them will have them drawing back immediately.
23. How does envy manifest itself in them (they take what they want, they become resentful, etc)?
they'll take, demand, threaten -- push themself into areas they otherwise should not be, all for the sake of getting what they want. spoiled by themselves to the highest degree.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
A) Why are you excited about this character?
who woudn't be excited about a hot, partially-anthropomorphic, alien bug? alarian is my baby, my original pride and joy, and i love being able to put them out there and have other people experience them and form their own thoughts about them.
H) What trait do you admire most?
physically or emotionally?
because the latter doesn't have much for me to admire, they're kind of a hot mess. if we go by physical then i have a hard time choosing, they were crafted with a lot of my own personal interests in character design.
though i suppose i do admire their personality to a fault. their ability to not care, to be themselves unapologetically. they think themselve perfect and nothing anyone can say is going to knock them from their opinion -- they hold strong in that regard, and the strength to do that is admirable in its own right.
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What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?
alarian can hang around for hours without doing much at all, merely sitting in wait until something comes along that catches their interest or draws them in. a partial habit built up from their years inhabiting scorpions, as they can naturally remain motionless for some time if needed.
though they'll never spend more than six hours at most in one spot. they could, but a change of scenery is always welcome... and their prey is usually mobile.
2. How easy is it for your character to laugh?
extremely.
it's usually nothing more than a show; sticking to giggles and small bursts of laughter between words to keep conversation, and mood, eerily lighthearted. if you wanted to make them genuinely laugh? that might take some extra doing. they have far too many walls put up beneath the surface, so any actual enjoyment that would elicit honest laughter is hard to come by.
7. What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?
fingers gliding across worn journal paper. laying beneath a bed of stars with nothing but the wind caressing their face, the grass their only pillow. standing within a field of fireflies, their lights blurring within wandering eyes.
they hate it.
nostalgia works as nothing but a reminder for what they once had, what they can no longer have. of promises made that were left in tatters, of a soul so hopeful. crushed, ruined, dead. it reminds them of love, innocent and pure -- and it disgusts them.
11. How do they cope with confusion (seek clarification, pretend they understand, etc)?
usually alarian will simply pretend to understand until the answer finally comes to them. very rarely will they ask for clarification, not wanting to have things explained to them when they can teach themselves in time.
20. If they were asked to explain the difference between romantic and platonic or familial love, how would they do so?
"familial love is those that never leave you. they take you for how you are, who you are, what you are.. and cherish you. even should you disagree, they remind you otherwise. they care for you, they hold you, they wipe your tears and see that you keep going. encourage you to change, to better your life. regardless of if you listen to them, or not.
platonic is vaguely similar, though far less intense. a more casual thing, sometimes fleeting.
romantic? please. there's never existed a bigger lie."
22. How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)?
possessive, and frighteningly so. they'll hiss, spit, threaten -- whatever / whoever is theirs and theirs alone. you can't take it away from them, they won't let you. you're not allowed.
they resent when you have what they don't, what they can't obtain. it's unfair in their eyes, regardless of who you are; what your circumstances may be. they've lived so long, they've been through hell -- they deserve it. they do, they do, they do.
27. What causes them to feel dread?
ironically, the promise of death.
being what they are, they steal the bodies of living organisms -- creatures, humans, plants -- and those bodies are susceptible to wearing away and perishing. they've experienced it plenty, being scooped up by owls and other avian life while occupying an arachnid host. being hunted or squashed, ripped apart, burned, eaten.
they hate the sensations, never killing their nerves fast enough to avoid feeling any of it before they can remove themselves from a host and find the next. but they're used to it by now, even if the feelings towards it linger.
the dread only solidified once learning that morphing lights, such as themselves, are capable of a true and permanent death. hard to come by, but its there. a way exists... and they were lucky to live through that, once.
a dread they carry that twists itself into something natural; a normalcy they play off of. that they accept.
42. How badly do they want to reach their end goal?
truthfully, they don't have one. not anymore.
when they did, alarian held an eagerness that could rival a child's own on christmas morning. the uncontained joy and want to tear away paper and know what lies in the box hidden behind it; they wished to do the same with an outstretched hand, and hopes, that lead them skyward -- through the stars and towards a history they wished to learn of. to know and grasp at a truth not found on earth, all while accompanied by another who wished to do the same.
but such is life.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
B) What inspired you to create them?
funnily enough, the first rendition of them was sparked by the song Lucifer's Angel -- they were meant to be a play on the theme of said song, but all that stuck was their color palette when i eventually redesigned them.
i wanted a character that broke away from my typical edgy, sad "bad boy" trope i kept falling into, wanted something more monster-esque. horrifying yet captivating and beautiful. deciding to form them around a scorpion was al an aesthetic choice, as i love the way those arachnids look. and a hot character with a big, deadly tail? ( or just... a tail in general ) sign me up!
after that it was a lot of spit-balling ideas and seeing what sounded fun to play with at the time. the setting for their world was never something i decided upon until well after designing them and figuring out what they were, how they came to be as we see them. i took up writing them not too long after, to help flesh them out more with friends and discover the kind of character i wanted alarian to be.
and now we have this menace to society.
D) Have they always had the same physical appearance, or have you had to edit how they look?
to touch on my previous point of redesigning them! they originally looked like this! we can all thank teen!aiza for his horribly bland choice in character design, because that thing was in desperate need of a do-over.
F) What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)?
pride, excitement. little bit of lust, if i'm gonna be frank here.
i've always been extremely proud of how they turned out as an oc, regardless of how they are in character. this is a little freak i built from the ground up, put years and years of work into -- designed with my own two hands and was happy enough to put forward. i don't really know how to put it into words in a way that expresses my full feelings on the matter, but they were like taking the first steps into showing people a side of me i had difficulty showing.
like, the level of creativity and dedication i hold that i was always scared of holding back for fear of being judged. i look at them and i feel free... if that makes sense.
Send me a # (questions for OCs) or a letter (questions for creators) and I’ll answer
QUESTIONS FOR YOUR OCs
What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?
How easy is it for your character to laugh?
How do they put themselves to bed at night (reading, singing, thinking?)
How easy is it to earn their trust?
How easy is it to earn their mistrust?
Do they consider laws flexible, or immovable?
What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?
What were they told to stop/start doing most often as a child
Do they swear? Do they remember their first swear word?
What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?
How do they cope with confusion (seek clarification, pretend they understand, etc)?
How do they deal with an itch found in a place they can’t quite reach?
What color do they think they look best in? Do they actually look best in that color?
What animal do they fear most?
How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot, or do they rehearse it in their mind first?
What makes their stomach turn?
Are they easily embarrassed?
What embarrasses them?
What is their favorite number?
If they were asked to explain the difference between romantic and platonic or familial love, how would they do so?
Why do they get up in the morning?
How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)?
How does envy manifest itself in them (they take what they want, they become resentful, etc)?
Is sex something that they’re comfortable speaking about? To whom?
What are their thoughts on marriage?
What is their preferred mode of transportation?
What causes them to feel dread?
Would they prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth?
Do they usually live up to their own ideals?
Who do they most regret meeting?
Who are they the most glad to have met?
Do they have a go-to story in conversation? Or a joke?
Could they be considered lazy?
How hard is it for them to shake a sense of guilt?
How do they treat the things their friends come to them excited about? Are they supportive?
Do they actively seek romance, or do they wait for it to fall into their lap?
Do they have a system for remembering names, long lists of numbers, things that need to go in a certain order (like anagrams, putting things to melodies, etc)?
What memory do they revisit the most often?
How easy is it for them to ignore flaws in other people?
How sensitive are they to their own flaws?
How do they feel about children?
How badly do they want to reach their end goal?
If someone asked them to explain their sexuality, how would they do so?
QUESTIONS FOR CREATORS
A) Why are you excited about this character?
B) What inspired you to create them?
C) Did you have trouble figuring out where they fit in their own story?
D) Have they always had the same physical appearance, or have you had to edit how they look?
E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?
F) What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)?
G) What trait of theirs bothers you the most?
H) What trait do you admire most?
I) Do you prefer to keep them in their canon universe?
J) Did you have to manipulate or exclude canon factors to allow them to create their character?
