Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!
Passing the tag onto @skyderman @jay-avian @daisywords @fleurtygurl and open tag!
going to be 15 lines of afsara - hopeful and hotheaded, interchangeably
"What is dangerous is your attempted murder."
"Shut up, Ola," she snapped, no heat behind her words.
"Enough. We’re actually here for a reason, aside from seeing your ugly face."
"The fae told us to leave. Didn’t come with us, obviously."
"You left her with our crying mother?"
Afsara snarled, "Because you were so talented and so fucking perfect the first time you tried Gaihira magic."
"Sometimes I want you to explode."
"Oh, no, I saw it all right. Cannot believe I caught you doing something fun, for once."
"This place is like a cult," Afsara spat, forced calm giving away to bubbling rage. "You’re destroying their minds. Magic isn’t like this. People aren’t supposed to be like this. Mindless, loyal to you and only you. They’re soldiers."
Afsara tried to glare a hole in her faerak’s head, but Ola steadfastly looked ahead. She scoffed, and turned to Nya. "If we see her, we’ll send her this way. Promise."
She shrugged. "Ground told me."
"You don’t get to lecture me if you’re just as willing to go along with it. What changed, huh? What made you want to save your own skin?"
"The only thing that needs to be cleansed," Afsara cut in, "is the North of your disgusting smell."
"What the fuck?" was all she could say.
"Do a better job, then. Or, here’s an idea," Afsara said, whirling around and glaring, "how about you fuck off?"
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thank u for the tag @keysandopenmind ! i haven't ever seen this before so this will be a lot of fun.
first up: afsara. kendra (puffybunni on ig) and attia (a.ttis on ig) are two of my inspirations for her, and kendra has the beautiful high feminine style that is also a big part of afsara's look!
for ola i think cheryl dunye would be a perfect fit, but if i could pull her from the 90s during filming the watermelon woman. ugh she's just so gorgeous. also hanonthegr8 (ig) from lydia garnett's close shave portrait series.
cosmos does not have a specific face claim yet, but after doing some searching i think these two would be most accurate in my head (trreigh on ig and mrclydewalker on ig)
keid's faceclaims are slightly different. they are simultaneously roberta colindrez and dev patel in the green knight, minus the beard.
something i would like to quickly point out is that these are faceclaims and not always the right body types for my ocs :)
tagging: @vcaudley @mrbexwrites @imbrisvastatio @fleurtygurl @ibuprofen-exe and @elizababie
‘Does she know we don’t have a library here?’ Cosmos said after a moment.
‘Leave her.’ Bitterness and understanding warred in her stomach. Ola hated being associated with her. They were on a mission, not a social visit. Really, the disappointment making itself known shouldn’t be there; she knew what Ola thought of her.
Cosmos pushed at her shoulder. ‘Come on. Sulk about her later, let’s go see Ma.’
Afsara shoved the ugly feelings into the pits of her heart and smiled. ‘Sure. She’s really excited about you going to university this year.’
He shifted, expression darkening imperceptibly. His grin was brittle. ‘Yeah? I haven’t chosen one yet, but—’
‘You’re not going to.’
‘…no. No, I’m not.’
‘I won’t tell her.’
‘Thanks.’ They were silent for a moment before an idea struck him.
‘Want to meet the horses?’
‘Yes! Ma said you had them, and that’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.’
‘Really? Need an expert, do you?’ Cosmos struck a pose and Afsara shoved him good-naturedly.
‘Yeah, didn’t actually want to see you, just needed the equine hook-up.’
‘Don’t talk about my children like that.’
‘Well, introduce me to them then.’
introducing cosmos! i love him. he can do no wrong. he is a horse girl
tagging (no pressure!): @asher-orion-writes @hallwriteblr @valanke
the faery children taglist: @mel-writes-with-her-dragons @hydrancheas  @charlesjosephwrites  @kosmic-kore
5 words to physically describe your OC (do you have a drawing? even better!)
tall. pointy-eared. brunette. beautiful. lanky.
i do have a BEAUTIFUL piece of artwork done by caleb @/sethpuertoluna on twitter (not sure if he has tumblr) from a couple of years ago.
look at her. loml. amazing gorgeous wonderful
Who inspired your OC?
afsara is a long time in the making. she originally came from a 'realistic' story i was writing about a lifeguard and a waitress, which i then tore into a million pieces and from its ashes rose her.
Give me a song to define your OC
ohhhhh i have playlists and playlists for her. i think if i was to narrow it to one it would be wild eyes by mariee sioux
If I met your OC on the street how would they greet me?
probably a glance if she didn't need to talk to you. if you stopped her for a conversation she would be to the point but as friendly as she could.
Can your OC be your best friend? Why?
there's some similarities between us, but i am not as single-minded as afsara, so i think that would be a point of contention between us.
1 adjective and 1 noun to describe your OC:
hotheaded idealist. she's got some emotions, and some baggage, and goddamnit she has to channel that somewhere.
tagging: @fleurtygurl @valanke and @annlillyjose :)
taglist for the faery children: @mel-writes-with-her-dragons @hydrancheas  @charlesjosephwrites @kosmic-kore @outpost51​ @megarywrites ​
Away from the summit, the woods darkened steadily, trees becoming arching black shadows, the snow swirling around until the way ahead was reduced to grey mist. Winters on the Tolenea Isles, though short, were bitter. Summer, its long stretch of lazy heat, couldn’t come quickly enough. Nature always seemed taken aback by the snow’s sudden arrival; leaves promptly dropped dead from trees and flowers shrivelled into themselves, hiding from the wind’s bite. Even the fae were seen less, though their presence on the populated part of the island was rare. Only Saa’ih remained a fairly oft-seen face, and they had retreated since the Kissing Moon.
2. Magic
She felt the same rage build up in her again, and the ground hummed, ready for her command. With a brief flex of her fingers, branches grew out of the ground, wrapping around themselves into a short sword. Thorns sprouted into mean curves, and she gripped the sword at its hilt. As she approached, she heard a crunch to her left. Her head snapped around, just in time to spot another black-clad figure darting away. She hefted the sword up and whispered to it. It stretched, wood warping itself into a spear that sailed through the air and sank into the back of the murderer’s neck. They fell face-down in the snow and did not get up.
3. Horror
The bag itself was made of brown leather, fastened with a shining black buckle. Well-made. She turned her attention to the contents: papers, a few daggers with wicked blades that she avoided touching, a brass compass, and a lumpy thing that she couldn’t quite make out. She grabbed for it, only to pull her hand back sharply as a white-hot pain shot up her arm. Her fingers blistered, and she hissed, shoving them in her mouth and sucking to ease the stinging. The small blackened thing sat on the floor and she leant down to look closer.
When she realised what it was she flinched back, bile rising in her throat. Her fingers felt too big in her mouth and she removed them to clap them over her face. She couldn’t tear her eyes away though her brain was screaming at her to bury it, to burn it, to hide it away from the world.
4. Home
The window faced the same way her childhood bedroom had, and she remembered far simpler times, staring out at the stars with Cosmos, hoping to catch the daybreak but falling asleep curled against each other before they could. The only things she worried about in those days were how dirty her favourite skirt was, or Cosmos’ latest skinned knee. There was no talk of cults, or sacrifices, or oaths to her coven. She thought of her last letter home, months ago; she hadn’t wanted to worry her mother or brother, and had not written since.
5. Lightning
Her arms were carved up by white-hot lightning bolts, crackling and sparking with barely-restrained energy, glaringly bright against her dark skin. They seemed almost alive, and as she turned her arms this way and that, the sparks were eager to chase each other over her skin like deadly wolf cubs tripping over to impress their mother. Around them the wind was lashing her face, rain now falling in earnest and soaking her to the bone. It all felt connected to her, the storm. Every drop of blood and miniscule muscle in her body expanded out, out into the bolts and thunder and beyond into the sky. The air smelled headily like salt and sour burning and she breathed in deeply, the air filling her lungs with gentle pricks. The pain dulled until it felt like the thrumming of her heart, beating in time with the waves and the thunder. Above her, the dark clouds seemed to wait for her command.
6. Strange lands
Ola stormed through the docks, slipping through the crowds like an eel. Afsara had to elbow more than one person out of the way in order to keep sight of her. The ground was uneven and slippery—she would have slipped if she had been carrying the bags, but Ola, burdened by both, strode on. The smell of fish grew fainter as they moved into the residential areas, washing hung out on lines above their heads. Afsara winced as she saw the remnants of her journey over in the form of dripping wet linens. A woman appeared at an upstairs window and shook the line, sending droplets splattering over Afsara’s head. She shook them free and kept moving. People sleepily exited their houses, eyes sliding over Afsara’s soggy form.
7. Pain
The tinder exploded. White and blue fire bloomed, spreading rapidly across the grass. She frantically stamped out her surroundings, hissing in pain as the fire sputtered wildly, more lightning bolt than flame. They licked her forearms, wrapping around them like chains and stinging like a brand. She whined, dropping to her knees and cradling herself, her grasp on her power gone. She looked down and gasped.
The rivers carved into her skin were blasted apart, into nasty patches of bright silver pooling with her blood. The silver blood poured down her arms, dripping from her fingertips. The more the fire raged, the more the silver burned, spreading to her shoulders, her chest, her torso. She screamed as the fire hit her stomach, stabbing into her organs.
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🌾 Describe your OC through the eyes of someone absolutely head-over-heels in love with them
oh man. well, here is ola talking about afsara:
It was infuriating, looking at her. The sun haloed Afsara as if it had been brought into creation to do so, the tiny flyaway hairs catching the light and the rings in her locs glowing bright in the sunset. Though she faced away from the sun, her eyes were still liquid pools of gold, piercing into Ola’s and warming a heart that tried its best to refuse to thaw. Ola knew the number of moles on her faerak’s face, could have found them blindfolded. She felt burning in her core from looking at Afsara too long, so forced her gaze away, out towards the horizon, hoping that the sun would blind her so she would not have to keep doing this.
🌿 What way does your OC show that they care without using words? What way do others show your OC that they’re cared about without using speech?
afsara likes to do things for people - she's an acts of service type of girl, but doesn't like to frame it as a big thing. for example, she helps her brother shave properly, and does it only out of love for him. her brother is very perceptive: cosmos shows her he cares for her by being someone she can talk to, and sometimes pushes her to answer questions about her wellbeing properly.
ola is also a sort of acts of service/gift giving type of lover. she will try and do things for afsara without her noticing, because she's so emotionally constipated it would practically make her explode if she tried to voice her feelings towards her.
