"What doesn't kill you might still maim you."

1. What is one word to shut them up?Probably “Boy.” You know the tone.

3. What is the worst pain they’ve ever experienced?Getting the ink removed from his skin has to be up there.

4. Describe their worst nightmare.Losing himself to madness or ink and hurting those he loves.

5. List 3 fears; one “surface level” fear, one “repressed” fear, and one “deep dark” fear.On the surface he’ll show a fear of very few things. Shadows not his own make him jumpy, Thorn, ect. A repressed fear is that he will lose control of his mind, one he’s had ever since he got too close and heard the whispers of the void. As for deep dark fear, it’s that he’ll face rejection from someone he really loves.

5. On an average day, what can be found in your character’s pockets?

Mahy’s hands patted down his sides, sliding down to his pockets. Fingers dug into them, searching for something. He pulled a wadded note of of the right, and a few silver out of the left. Setting those aside, he reached back in. A faintly glowing blue gem came next, then a piece of what looked to be ivory carved into something. A few coins with wax seal like symbols came next, and finally a neatly folded piece of paper. “Ah, here it is.” He proclaimed to the puzzled man at the cart of regents. “Hippogriff hoof trimmings and a few blood garnets, un-enchanted please.” He began to stuff the items back into his perfectly flat pockets.

10. Does your character feel more comfortable with more clothing, or with less clothing?(Mahy is honestly very comfortable in his own skin. He doesn’t have much shame unless the situation calls for it. He doesn’t like being humiliated or vulnerable in front of others, so his mood can quickly change if he’s not wearing much.)

19. What is your character’s biggest relationship flaw? Has this flaw destroyed relationships for them before? He had to protect them, even from themselves. Starling was young and naive, easily hurt. Like Mahy, he took rejection badly. He’d thought to let the bird go in order not to hurt him any further, but in the end he’d grown and learned to face the fear. He’s living with Starling now, and devoted come what may. Keirik had his anger, and his bullheaded habit of rushing into danger. It worked for Mahy’s advantage a few times, and he was always there to heal the man even when it didn’t. After he’d stopped Keirik’s blind rage towards Starling, he learned that even he was not immune, and that the older elf’s moods and habit could not be contained. He stepped aside, giving Keirik over to care for Shadrien and trusting the rogue to watch over himself a little as well. As for Vy, his obsessive and controlling brother, Mahy no longer bent over backwards to appease him. However, he didn’t run either. Despite what Vy likely thinks right now, Mahy is going to prove to him that he won’t let him go.

(Aah this made me a little happy. Mahy’s flaw was basically trying to micromanage and fix everyone else’s flaws and problems, and running when the going got tough. It’s ruined every relationship he ever had--mostly because of Vy’s influence as well. He’s learning.)

20. In what ways does your character compare themselves to others? Do they do this for the sake of self-validation, or self-criticism?Mahy’s fingers ran through his long blond hair even as he watched Basil comb through those red curls of his. The color was appealing, notable, and vibrant. It held attention. His eyes would trail to Kieros, who’s calm and commanding voice was telling them all what to expect of their next mission. The tall elf’s fit figure easily provoked the desire to be held down, even as the knowledge of just who they could hold down burned. He glanced to Kieryl, who watched Kieros as if his life depended on it. Alright, it might and Mahy should really be listening, but instead he was daydreaming about being as loyal and capable as the little paladin.

(Mahy often compares himself to others in a bad light. He sees what they have and what he doesn’t.)

26. How does your character behave around children?

Mahy walked along the bazaar in a sweat, his hand curled around the little one in his palm. The child was crying, nearly hyperventilating, and he had no idea what to do. His eyes scanned the crowd frantically, searching for someone that looked as frantic as he would be, should a child of his be lost. Finally he swallowed, turning to kneel down. “H-hey, shhh now little one.” His hands came to lift the small boy’s chin, a smile on his face. His thumbs came to wipe away the tears from those puffy eyes. “We’ll find your papa, I promise. I will not leave you until we do. Alright? You’ll be with me. Now come, let’s go and find a friend of mine who can help,” help him handle a child, “His name is Basil.” When in doubt, find the most motherly member of the guild he knew.

Part 1;

Such a feeling was rare, and completely foreign to the priest. They were the little moments in life when he wanted for nothing at all. A lightness with each breath that left him feeling drunk with the sensation of weightlessness. Fleeting as they were, he lived for those moments. Didn’t everyone? There were a few things that could make him feel truly content.

Being needed. Mahy didn’t need to be told that he was useful, he knew that already. He could do a great many things to aid those he worked with, lived with, even slept with. But none of those were when he felt needed. Needed was holding someone through a bout of night terrors or waves of fevers and sickness. It was healing a would-be mortal wound, or giving kisses to soothe hurt feelings. To put it simply, to be needed was to be irreplaceable to someone else.

Praise. Though he didn’t need to be told what he’d done was good, or that he’d done it well, it certainly didn’t hurt. Sometimes this went hand in hand with the above, because there was nothing better than receiving praise in response to providing a service that wasn’t readily available elsewhere. Something that only he could give, or at least that was appreciated greatly. Everyone wanted to feel appreciated, didn’t they?

Security. Confidence he had in regards to his skills, his knowledge, and his body. Security often came alongside little bouts of confidence which relied on many factors. Sometimes it came with being protected, while other times it was being told directly that he was something special. That he had a place, a home, he was wanted. Carrying permanent marks of lovers on his body wasn’t something he did lightly. He knew all too well that bliss could be upended in the blink of an eye, and insecurity often had an ugly and violent fallout. That was why security was possibly the most important of the factors in being truly content. He could do without praise, and he could even accept that he wasn’t needed at times. They paled in comparison to the feeling of security that was so hard to find.