#othrwrlds

CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT QUESTIONS: HARD MODE // accepting

What does your character like in other people?

he likes... playfulness. mischief. he likes those little snappy comebacks susannah comes up with all on her own. he likes setting jake up for a good joke and seeing the kid Deliver and Deliver Hard. he likes the little echo inside of roland that sometimes wakes up and makes him do absolutely batshit things. (shooting open a newspaper vending machine delights and terrifies him to no end). 

he likes people who don’t take themselves too seriously. he likes people who read like weathered old maps and every tear and fold can be seen. he likes people who are unapologetic in who they are, who love deeply. 

(he loves people who look at him like he’s someone worthy to love. that’s the main thing.)

Describe a scenario in which your character feels most comfortable.

i have a really good quote by danielewski that i wanna use for this. 

“I want something else. I’m not even sure what to call it anymore except I know it feels roomy and it’s drenched in sunlight and it’s weightless and I know it’s not cheap. It’s probably not even real.”

he craves affection and love and often denies himself those things. he craves to be told that he’s good and jokes that he doesn’t matter to him. he wants emotional closeness, bonds, friends, but he’s terrified by it. he doesn’t want people to see him as he is, sometimes. 

not to get too much into dysphoria but to absolutely do that: eddie feels absolutely alien in his own body. it both is and is not his own. he feels strongly about some parts, and distantly about others. like phantom limbs only the limbs are still there, they just can’t be his. because he isn’t supposed to be like this, exist in that way. 

          a drink  ----  like old times.  old times that never came to practice.  so many missed moments;  playing play outside, starting a garage band together,  &  any other brotherly cliche’s.  that’s what you do with siblings.  you spend time with them, not because you have to, but because you want to.  you need their company to feel whole in this world.   to know you’re not alone.  to know you’re not a freak.  i never had that.  i dreamed about those moments,  but debra was always there.  making sure i felt included,  i was important.  even when dad excluded her from our routine activities to feed my young dark passenger.  &  yet, she would never understand the blood-lust that lies within me,  that calls my name as another killer roams free.  i will never be normal  &  brian reminds me of that.  a drink...  

on her majesty’s secret service / selectively accepting.

The wide, diffused glow of the street lamp coasts a pair of abandoned traffic cones on the embankment with a soft glow that is bitingly at clash with the toxic orange underneath, not to speak of the reflective sleeve. Arthur, awake since letting his brother into the apartment but not necessarily awake enough to deal with the nightlife light evading his space through the window, drew the drapes shut. 

He was barefoot, wrapped in a bathrobe and his hair disheveled. He bit back a yawn and blinked at Luke. The digital clock on his microwave bleared his eyes with a bright display that read 3:19 am. 

“Look, man, it’s not like I don’t appreciate seeing you, but what the–” 

“I suspect they’re trying to kill me.”

Jesus, fuck. What? 

He blinked again.

“Say what?” 

Awake now.

The irony had enough time to hit him: Of all of them Arthur would have thought himself to be the most likely candidate to show up at one of his siblings’ various places, an out of time out of place man, and declare himself on the radar of some shady entity of They. 

Not Luke. Goddammit. 

And another voice: Maybe Luke. Possibly, perhaps Luke. Irony wasn’t surprise, that too was something he processed early on. You can carry that monkey on your back for a lifetime without making it a big deal but when it gets its hands around your neck it can strangle you just the same. 

on her majesty’s secret service / selectively accepting.

She sits, legs crossed, at the center of the rose, at the heart of the universe: there’s dream catchers dangling from the lower branches of the beech tree, like beads from the strands of her hair; the dark and gnarled bark a presence against her back, her eyes closed yet soaring high and wide. Her mind’s a biting thing, sharp as a single razor tooth that tears souls and grins malice. It’s a shadow underlying the soft way she can smile, too, as she does now: it makes her look sarcastic, always. Her palms are loosely on her knees, open to receive. 

And Crow comes to her because she called for him: it is the way it is when one is at, is the center of the universe.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄'𝐒 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋, and she shakes her head as an amused smile plays at her lips. “Just because I’m doing the Jedi training, doesn’t mean I’ll be galavanting all over the galaxy like my brother,” she says, though her words are fond. “I can do so much more here with the Resistance. I was raised for politics and leadership, adventure—” another chuckle and a smile as if she’s remembering back a very specific adventure. “— well, maybe in small doses.”

queen lyric starters.

              There’s something sitting on their chest when the man speaks, a feeling they haven’t experienced before. Something sentimental and woeful. There’s even a brief moment where something other than stoicism washes across their face. A fond little smile, their gaze softened. But the expression vanishes almost as quickly as it came because another thought comes to mind before they can sit on the previous feeling for too long. Is this nostalgia yours to feel??

“Cool,” they murmur, and they peer at the other man out of the corner of their eye. A pause. “You ready to go back??”

“ Right, 𝙲𝚄𝙻𝙴𝙱𝚁𝙰𝚂. Mexican vampires  ─  I get it. ”  Standing in the middle of the hideout, his arms resting over his chest in a barrier between the creatures before him. Wyatt let his eyes fall over the people in front of him. He’d been dragged into too many battles, being pulled each way by The Elders...and then the demons that seemed to swarm the area. It wasn’t just his job to keep order, to keep everyone safe. But, apparently, the Elders didn’t quite get that memo.  “ But what I don’t get is how demons fit into this whole thing. This isn’t really their M.O. ”