Tag List: (message me to be added or removed) @fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds @pigeonwhumps @mr-orion @scaewolf
@the-ellia-west @melpomenelamusa @juneofdoom
CW: fever
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Draven knew something was wrong when he got up the next morning and the door to the living room was still open.
It was well past noon when he awoke, the shadows beginning to lengthen as the sun slowly descended in the sky. Draven wanted to keep sleeping, to lay in oblivion for just a few more hours, But he knew that wouldn't happen.
So he dragged himself out of bed and drifted out into the kitchen, eager for a cup of coffee, and froze.
The door to the living room was still open.
Draven stared at the dark space between the cracked-open door and the doorframe, trying to remember if he had seen Octavian close it. No, he had gone to bed before Octavian had, though he remembered strongly encouraging the elf to rest.
Did he leave?
Insomniac or not, even Draven knew not to go without a small amount of rest, particularly after a hunt.
Frowning, Draven pushed open the door the rest of the way, and paused.
Every night since Octavian had come to live with him, the elf had chosen to sleep in the form of a large silver wolf, his other self as a skinwalker, curled up on the rug in the center of the room.
But today, Octavian lay on his back, right arm thrown across his face over his eyes, the other flung out as if he were a discarded doll. A blanket was crumpled next to him in a manner that suggested it once covered him, but had been kicked off in restless slumber.
He didn't react to Draven standing in the doorway.
That in itself was blatant indication that he wasn't well. Octavian slept lightly, always waking before Draven or when he heard Draven moving about.
Moving quietly, Draven stepped into the room and lit the lamp on the table beside one of the sofas, holding it up to get a better look. The living room had no windows, and the light from the kitchen wasn't enough to see by.
Octavian's breathing was shallow, his already pale skin flushed from fever. As Draven studied him, the fingers of his left hand twitched and curled into a fist, as if grasping for something unseen.
"De Silv," Draven said softly.
The elf didn't respond.
"De Silv, can you hear me?"
Still, no reaction.
Hissing through his teeth, Draven gently placed the back of his hand against Octavian's forehead. "Damn!" He cursed, withdrawing. "You're like an oven!"
Octavian barely stirred at his touch.
Draven rocked back on his heels, thinking rapidly. Doctor, he needs a doctor.
But I shouldn't leave him, what if something happens?
He sighed. If something happens, I'd rather have a doctor here.
Jumping to his feet, Draven quickly crossed the apartment to his own room and tugged on his boots. He'd gone to sleep in the clothes he'd worn the night before, they were rumpled, torn and bloodstained, but they would have to do. Stopping in the tiny bathroom, he snagged a rag from the cabinet and soaked it in cool water from the basin.
Octavian hadn't moved in the few minutes he was gone.
Draven bit back another curse as he crouched again and gently moved Octavian's arm from his face. The elf's eyes were open, but half-lidded and glazed over. He mumbled something unintelligible at the unexpected shift, his eyes darting in place.
"I'm going to get a doctor," Draven said softly, laying the damp rag across his brow. "Don't do anything stupid."
He didn't know if Octavian could understand him. But the cool cloth seemed to help, at least a little bit, his eyes closing, though his breathing remained shallow.
It would have to do for now.
Rising, Draven ducked out into the hallway of his building and locked the door behind him.
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Draven, what’s your favorite way to drink coffee? Hot or cold/iced? With cream and sugar, or black? Any flavorings like caramel, mint, chocolate/mocha, or pumpkin spice? Do you like to experiment, or do you just stick with one tried-and-true favorite?
*Draven considers the question for a moment.*
Draven: "I take it hot, with milk sometimes if I have it at home. When a job takes me out of town for a while I just drink it black, I don't carry more than I need.
"I'm not much for sweetness. Alexander's the one who's into that, he made me try one of those chocolate coffee drinks when we were in training. I'll admit it wasn't bad, but much too rich for my taste. The kid, on the other hand, adores them, and Octavian claims the chocolate'll help her recover, so who am I to stop them?"
*He shrugs.*
[OOC: Reese suffers from iatrogenic anemia and low iron post-captivity. Chocolate, especially dark chocolate, is rich in iron so it balances her levels. Octavian knows this because he's dealt with blood loss-related injuries before and the elves in general are very advanced in medical science.]
Character wheel coming in clutch today for I got my darling girl Reese!
(for context, I have a saved file on wheelofnames.com that has all of the ocs I post about listed and I spin that if I do not have a particular character on the brain. Comes in handy for ask games)
1. What was the original thought that led to the creation of this character?
In my WIP The Hunter, the Myth and the Cure, I needed a tertiary main character to provide another perspective on this world I created, in particular the lengths some people would go to find a cure to the werewolf plague.
So, I made Reese Takari: a thirteen-year-old girl kidnapped and held hostage as leverage against her father, a diplomat rumored to have contracted---and miraculously recovered from---the plague.
3. What was the first thing you decided on, the character's name, appearance, personality or their role in the story?
Her role for sure, though I picked her name pretty quickly too. She is not, in fact, named after Reese Witherspoon :P but a shortening of a specific pronunciation of my middle name.
4. And reverse, which one of the four things did you struggle with the most?
I think her personality, mainly because this girl is insanely traumatized at a young age, and I have to constantly consider how that would affect her actions during the novel. Once I started writing short stories that took place after the events of the novel, though, her personality started to cement for me.
7. What is an aspect of their appearance that you like the most?
I'm fond of her jacket because I wrote her to be fond of it. It was given to her by Oswin, one of the only people who was kind to her during her captivity, to keep her warm during her escape. It essentially becomes a security blanket of sorts, and she still wears it years later.
12. Do you have a playlist for the character? What songs do you associate with them and why?
Not Reese specifically but I do have one for the WIP as a whole!
The songs I have specifically for her are as follows:
Heathens - Twenty One Pilots
We don't deal with outsiders very well
They say newcomers have a certain smell
You have trust issues, not to mention
They say they can smell your intentions
Mainly referring to her later arc where she feels like an outsider in the hospitality of two werewolf hunters.
Fight On, Fighter - For KING & COUNTRY
This song as a whole sums up her character for me, no particular lyrics just the whole thing
Bleeding Out - Imagine Dragons
You tell me to hold on
Oh, you tell me to hold on
But innocence is gone
And what was right is wrong
'Cause I'm bleedin' out
Girlie loses so much blood she gets anemia but also the loss of innocence line.
Stressed Out - Twenty One Pilots
Wish we could turn back time to the good old days
When our mama sang us to sleep, but now we're stressed out
Her mom walked out of the family when Reese was three, leaving her with vague, blurry memories and an inheritance that turned out to be more of a curse than a blessing.
17. Are there any motifs or symbols associated with the character? How are they represented, in their design, personality or in some other way?
The only one I can think of is blood.
Basically, Reese's father is human. But her mother is Draigo---humanoid species most notably immune to magic---and Reese inherited the magic immunity. At its core, the werewolf plague is magical, therefore she cannot be infected.
The people who kidnapped her figured this out and also determined that the best way to produce a cure to the plague is to harvest her blood.
So for the first half of her arc, the only thing keeping her alive is her value as a bloodbag. Once she escapes, she grapples with the knowledge that the fate of the entire world thrums in her veins, to the point that she is placing her self-worth in this immunity. She is also recovering from iatrogenic anemia---illness characterized by low iron and low blood volume---at this point.
Her blood is also intoxicating to werewolves, to the point where they will blindly chase after her if they catch her scent.
There's a bit more to it but I haven't fully hashed that part of the novel out yet so I will leave it there.
Tragic death scene - 15 sentences for @wizisbored @stonemaskedtaliesin @inevitablyuncertain @nevermind-see-pg-42 @camelotsfavouriteknight
Parental reunion - 9 sentences for @eriquin @zyrafowe-sny @tamsinswriting
ToS backstory shenanigans - 6 sentences for @auburnlaughter @twyrewolf
Contains major spoilers for The Hunter, the Myth and the Cure and Trials of the Six under the cut
Tragic death scene (WIP: The Hunter, the Myth and the Cure) I got carried away and ended up with a total 1k words of devastation, which was the goal :3
"Not a skilled liar, are we, Oswin?"
He said nothing.
"You allowed her to escape. Helped her, even. Sent her to Zariya with false hopes built on unfound promises. Do you not understand her purpose here? Her importance to finally ending this plague?"
Oswin said something, too quiet for Reese to hear, but Sagon stepped back, recoiling as if he had been slapped, rage twisting his always impassive face. The doctor made a sharp gesture to the man in the light brown coat.
He started, but obediently raised his gun.
Too late, Reese realized what he planned to do.
Crack!
In the silence of the snow-covered night, the gunshot was deafening.
Reese clamped her hands over her mouth, rooted in place as Oswin fell.
Only then did his final words to her return.
Parental Reunion (WIP: Trials of the Six) Heavy on the fever and delirium but little does he know this is his actual mother
A shadow moved at the far side of the small hut, lit only by a small brazier in the center of the room.
Familiarity tugged at Hiel as they approached and knelt at his side.
He tried to pull forth the memory.
A cool, damp cloth pressed to his forehead.
A gentle hand brushing aside the stray strands of hair.
Something about the action….
The word escaped his lips before he realized it.
"…mother…?"
The shadow gasped and started to say something, but his awareness was already fading.
ToS Backstory Shenanigans (WIP: Trials of the Six)
If she could just run for long enough, Roone would be okay.
He had to be okay.
But there weren't many places she could go.
The cliff edge to her left.
The burning airships at her back.
And the army on her right.
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Some ballpoint pen doodles of a couple of my Tales from Valaria ocs. Left: Reese Takari (The Hunter, the Myth and the Cure), her Magician knife unsheathed and sheathed. Right: Maelyn Sorro (The Watcher and the Thief)
(Here we go! I'm probably going to be using the prompts to work on my ongoing WIPs, with the intention of posting the snippets containing parts relevant to the day's prompt that I worked on)
Day 1 Prompts
Write Camp Rules/Enrollment
Masterpost
Prompts: "You shouldn't have run from me."
WIP: The Hunter, the Myth and the Cure
Words: 370 (snippet: 200)
Tag List: (message me to be added or removed) @fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds @pigeonwhumps @mr-orion @scaewolf
Octavian inhaled slowly and set his shoulders as they arrived at the office door. No weakness.
It's cute how you do that.
Do what? The question slipped out before he realized he was asking.
Erase any sign of exhaustion or emotion from your face and body on a whim. Her silhouette lurked in the shadows between the windows, invisible to all but him. A farce, but a convincing one. She giggled. When I arrive, you won't have to pretend. I've found some runes that do wonders when it comes to the limits of the body.
Octavian had no desire to respond, nor did he have the chance, as Sagon rapped twice on the door before opening it and striding purposefully inside.
No weakness.
Y'know, you shouldn't have run from me. Then you wouldn't be in this mess.
The guards marched him after the scientist, and Octavian fixed his gaze on the man seated behind the desk. I'd rather die than spend the rest of my days in servitude.
Isn't that how you spent your days before you met me?
He ignored her, focusing instead on his current predicament as the guards shackled him to the lone chair placed before the desk.
Exhaling slowly, she dropped her guard and finally trusted somebody. Her voice shook as she spoke. “I... I should have been overjoyed. Or relieved. Something… something reasonable. But instead… I was so, so scared. Scared for her. For me. For… for you.”
Mare wrapped her arms around herself. “I’m still scared. Because… everything’s going to change. And I don’t know what’s going to happen.”
A beat of silence. Then: “I’m scared too.” Oswin chuckled softly. “Ever since I promised I’d look after her, not just keep her alive, I’ve been scared. Neither of us really knew what they were getting into, were we?” He sighed. “Mariel, If you want out, I understand. It’s too much of a risk—”
“No!” She snapped, wiping the tears from her eyes. “You made me promise, and I intend to keep it. We’re seeing this through.”
