#oc: heloise

[jasmariswonderland]

Heloise: When someone points at your black clothes and asks whose funeral it is, having a look around the room and saying 'Haven’t decided yet' is typically a good response.

[fruitpuppi]

i know bliss lies in ignorance 🌹

[nebulous-apocrypha]

19, 26 and 34 for the oc ask game?

okay so since i haven’t really mentioned her here at all, i’m going to answer this for heloise.

19. are they quick to anger? what sets them off? - heloise, despite outwardly being a very serene person, is very quick to anger. she gets angry at anything she perceives as a slight of some sort, especially if it’s directed towards her family and their circumstances; her family once carried significant prestige as considerably powerful magicians, but had a gradual fall from grace in recent generations. it’s a touchy subject for her.

26. how do they move? are the clumsy? light on their feet? do they use mobility aids? - heloise has a very decisive way of moving, if that makes sense. she tends to walk briskly and quickly, and doesn’t really stop to let people pass by her.

34. how would they describe themselves? - i think that heloise would very much describe herself as a victim of her circumstances. not with that exact phrasing, of course, but that’s the way she tends to paint herself.

[star-synth]

Tried something a little different for the shading, I really like it tbh

If you'd like to support me further, you can find more here!

[seepylilthing]

Oc time ! This is Gabbles . Her lore ties in with the secretary au , she was created by Citrine (the secretary) ! She's going to take on an irresponsible aunt type role to the warner kids .

Gabbles is an adult . Around 27 like Citrine is in the story , but she calls Citrine "big sister" .

This was a small bit I wrote to depict their dynamic

She's taller than the warners , but still pretty small . I headcanon yakko around 3 feet so for me she's probably 4 feet !

Yes ! It's okay to draw her ! Please tag me in it if ya do

And feel free to ask me questions about her in my ask box <3

Oh , and she uses she/he/it ! Nonbinary :]

[fishfingersandscarves]

some imagined boardgame cards featuring my ocs :)

[cdmodule]

Been seeing too much negativity lately so new tag "game" time: Object show fans and artists, reblog this and talk about your favorite object show artists in the tags (and maybe what you like about their art)

[lacnunga]

No pressure to read it at all but here's a wee drabble about my ocs, specifically Perfidious ruining his own fucking life by telling Eustace what an asshole he's been their entire friendship

"Come in, come in, im glad to see you, Fideous," Byng said excitedly, practically grabbing my arm to pull me into his little room. It was a plain but cosy affair, unlike the stuffy little rooms aboard the Advantage which stank and putrified even with every gun hatch thrown open for air - here, the landlady at at least put pretty enough curtains on the windows and there was only a little built up dust along the edges of the floor. A pair of singlesticks had been thrown carelessly onto the narrow daybed, which was already mountainous with laundry, Roman tomes and octaves of poems and plays. Half the counterpane trailed on the floor and several half-drunk cups of tea gathered on sideboard and sea chest like girls at a party. Byng had thoroughly installed himself here.

My captain turned to me and beamed, his brown eyes glittering as the setting sun washed over him.

"What excellent timing you have; Mrs Battersea will have tea ready any moment now, and you must dine with me and we shall discuss my letter to Napier. Oh, do not look so perturbed," he laughed, having evidently seen some of my agitated state in my eyes, "all things good, I assure you."

Yes, I needed no assurance of it. I knew Byng would write only too enthusiastically of my time in his service, and it was here wherein lay the entirety of my problem. Had I never met this man I would not know myself to be one to dislike inner turmoil, for I don't make a habit of engaging in it. It was Byng who never knew when to leave well enough alone and when to leave an enemy an enemy without towing him into friendship. It had always been my curse to resent him near as much as love him.

"Please, take a seat."

I cast an eye about the room and found no available surface.

"...where, sir?" I jabbed.

"Oh! Well, you may throw down Cicero," Byng said, pronouncing the name with his usual hard 'c', "Lord knows he deserves it! Ha!"

I made a smile at his words, although not understanding the reference and not letting it bother me. He might have pressed Voltaire onto me, and Swift and Gay, but i draw the line at Romans. I took Cicero in my hands and set his papery corpse on a half-unrolled housewife; I had to restrain myself as always from following behind him and tidying up, lest I prove the jabs of my own wifeliness true and lose what has remained of my Machiavellian reputation. Although I suppose Byng had an excuse this time - at the thought, my eyes flickered guiltily to his half-wooden hand. It was clear that despite his period in the naval hospital, my captain was still struggling to change from his sinistral upbringing.

Still, it was not to critique his slovenliness that I had come to his room.

"Sir," I started, seating myself on the little space I had cleared of the footstool, "there was something....something I wanted to discuss."

"Please, you know I will always bend my ear to you, Fid," he said, before peering closer at me, "Why, your face-! Is it awful news?"

"No, I- that is-. Ah!" I did not want to look at his concerned expression. All the words had dried up in my mouth as soon as attempting to speak them; how ridiculous, to waste away the night with harrowed rehearsal only to find myself fish-jawed when it came to the opening performance. Me! He whom trouble followed in consequence of caustic wit, struck suddenly dumb!

And the longer I remained silent, the deeper the furrow between Byng's brows got.

"Is it...money?" He near whispered the last, afraid of offending some invisible etiquette teacher by mentioning finances so crudely.

I shook my head, my auburn hair flying about.

"Then I am at a loss," Byng declared, placing one hand on his hip, the other dangling unnaturally - his new asymmetry made that noxious cauldron of guilt and shame roil in my stomach, "but it cannot be as dreadful as you are putting on. Tell me all about it and we shall have the matter sorted by coffee, my friend."

"I have not been your friend," I blurted, clumsily.

There was a long pause, in which the clatter and shouting outside the boardhouse seemed to swell like a choir to fill it. For a moment I could not fathom how the entirety of my disclose was not obvious to him within those six words, forgetting that they had only consumed my reality by the throes of my own inner repetition. No, that my confession was still a secret was obvious, for instead of outraged, Byng looked only confused, and scratched at his moustache. The fine golden hairs that had escaped his pomade caught the low sun and blazed like beaten gold - my fancy saw him in that moment like the Archangel Michael with myself as always, cast as the devil himself.

"If you are still dwelling on my words about being abandoned on the hospital, I beg you to forget them. They were a bad joke and I ought to have known you would take them to heart. I understand how busy you have been," he said kindly.

I did not want his kindness. I had not wanted it at the beginning of our aquaintance and I did not want it now, when I must expose myself to him entirely. It would have suited me better if he was dismissive or pompous or selfish, but then, had he been any of those things, I would never have found myself in the position I was in.

Maybe it made it easier in the end, as his kindess irritated me and there is nothing better for loosening the tongue than irrational stress.

"We hoped you would die," I snapped, and with those savage words it was as though a damn, long rotten and straining over the years, broke within me and out came spilling a torrent of filthy, diseased water, "You often said our friendship began on the Courland expedition. It is true, I did recommend you for the negotiations to Gainsford, but not because I thought you would do well at it."

When Byng said nothing, I continued, "I don't know if you were even aware of my dislike of you. I hated all things you represented - priviledge, education, connexions. You had the impertience to be friendly and humble and forgiving and there was little I could not find a way to despise about you. Yes, I sent you off to the Governor and greatly you thanked me for that boon afterwards, but with sincerity I had done it with the presumtion that you would not come back."

It hurt to say these things to the man I now loved, but it was necessary. It was necessary - I had repeated as much to my pillow in the dark of the night - for him to know the depths of my depravity before he risked his reputation by recommending me to the Admiral on false understandings.

I was glad that it hurt.

When I risked a glance at him, Byng had gone very still and very pale. His good arm had dropped to his side.

"I see," he said woodenly. To hear his normally bonny voice so expressionless was near as debilitating as the sight of him clutching his mangled hand had been. "I...I suppose there have been queerer starts to friendships. It will be a funny thing to tell people at dinner parties, certainly." His chuckle sounded forced, "but it has been years-"

"That was not the end of it," I interrupted him. I had to dispell him of his good opinion of me, for my own honour as much as his.

"Oh?" Came the faint, reluctant question.

"Yes," I said. There was a heat building in me, like a fever reaching its climax and I believe in the moment it sent me to the very edge of madness, "I resented you your success - we all did, but I the most, for your fortune was my own doing and the praise of one so far my junior in rank but superior in society galled me to the extreme. For my own benefit, I pretended at friendship. I took your affection and betrayed it for years. Had it not been for my own sense of duty towards my superiors - I couldnt imagine where we would be now."

"You cannot be serious," Byng protested, and now he too sounded hot, "you are confused, Fidious. You've saved my life, twice over, three times if you would allow me to count Chatham!"

"My duty, as I said, sir."

"Then-, then you took me into your care when I was attacked," he pointed out triumphantly.

The memory of that winter night and Byng's staggering form bearing me dazedly to the pavement, blood running down his face, shot through my mind. A reminiscent shiver ran down my spine.

"You might have died," I pointed out, determined not to allow him to paint me as any kind of samaritan, "I may have betrayed your good opinion but I would not have allowed any man of woman to just pass in the street."

"You are making this very difficult, you know," Byng said crossly and I felt a familiar pang of satisfaction in making myself disagreeable, "there was no danger of me dying from the attention of the Duchess of Whitby, though. There was no need for your intervention but your rescue of me from matrimony when I asked it of you."

He seemed very assured of his victory there, but the shame threated to swallow me again at the reminder.

"I was glad to 'rescue' you; it was gratifying to me to deprive you of a greater fortune and a title in one fell swoop."

Byng's fine face fell.

"Tell me this is a joke," he said eventually. My words had begun to penetrate his rosy view of the world. I could feel my heart crack in tandem with his.

"I cannot," I replied, my voice wavering like a snotty's.

"I have asked you for counsel, and you have given it. I have told you my fears, and you have reassured me. I asked you to share in my joys, and you did."

"For my own benefit, sir." I swallowed the lump in my throat, "for my own advancement."

"...I introduced you to my sister."

"Yes," i whispered.

The dam had run dry. There were no more words. I had done what i had set out to; to destroy the bridge Byng had built between us over the years. As I watched, I saw the flesh fingers of his hands curl into fists, and his whole body strike up rigid. It was only those wooden fingers that sat slack and I did not miss the irony that in that moment, the only part of my captain's body not set against me was that which he had sacrificed to save my life. It was in that gory, mutilating moment that my love for him had flowered, belatedly, selfishly, only then had my eyes opened. How could I have visited him in recovery knowing, feeling now thoroughly, all those years I had plotted against him or accepted his friendship with ill feeling?

"I had been warned about you," Byng said quietly, face like procelain. "Lieutenants, midshipmen, seamen - even those Buffs you played the tables with; all seemed to have black words to say about you. But I dismissed them. Every one; I even got a little irate at some of them. My own honour felt besmirched that these people would cast aspersions on my closest friend in the world."

Each blow struck me like a sabre. Good. It was good that he make me bleed.

"Sir-" I began, only to be interrupted by a knock on the door and the impertinent entry of a white-capped maid.

She bobbed a curtesy.

"Mrs Battersea says to tell you tea's ready for you, sir - and to say there's enough for two if your friend is staying."

Byng did not take his eyes off of me.

"No. This man was just leaving."

Surely there was an ocean of blood lapping at my knees by now. It was good, and it was right, but like a drowning man taking one last breath before going under, it was instinct that moved my lips without knowing what my next words would be.

"Please-"

"I think, Mr Jones, that you have thoroughly obliterated your right to say 'please' to me, don't you?"

My last breath of air went out. Here were the consequences of my actions - Byng's blithe counternance one of stony betrayal, my commendation to the Admiral no doubt would find itself fuelling the fireplace, the hesitant understanding between myself and Lady Babington crumpling with the news of what I had done to her brother. Obliterated indeed.

"Then I will take my leave," I said. My words seemed to come from very far away to my own ears.

"Good day, sir," Byng dismissed me curtly, turning his back on me, halo fading with the approaching dusk.

"Good day."

And, with the maid looking between us askance, I left.

When later I received a summons from Napier concerning a glowing letter of commendation from his protege, I could never have felt worse.

[guilhertic0]

I have three sides

[hopalynes-art]

Day twentyfour : Purikura

they hangin out !!!

[jasmariswonderland]

🌟Sweet Dreams with my Twst OCs Part 3🌟

PART ONE HERE  |  PART TWO HERE

“You will become the protagonists of your own fairy tales…”

Hello everyone!

So…how about that most recent update in EN?! With everyone on the Isle of Sages currently in a deep slumber, I thought it’d be fun to explore just what my ocs are dreaming of. In this final part, we’ll be looking at the dreams of Vidaira, Heloise and my RSA oc Florine!

What is your oc’s ideal dream world?

Warning: Vidaria and Heloise’s dreams include spoilers for Book 7 content not yet available in EN

~~~

I recently touched upon this in an excerpt I posted of her overblot AU, but I’ll add upon it here.

In Vidaria’s perfect dream world, not only are the Draconia’s defeated by the Silver Owls but they never again regain power to retaliate against the Cheriths. It’s not known if Malleus still exists in this dream but regardless, Vidaria is in no danger of being forced to wed him. Her betrothal to the infant prince of dawn is then set to proceed and twenty one years later, she marries him. Her dream begins while she’s preparing for her wedding. 

Heloise is still in her life and still her faithful handmaiden and  even Iman is there too to be her maid of honor. They talk about her future ruling the Land of Swords and its revealed that Vidaria and Silver have grown to love each other similarly to how they have in real life. They both love horses, fencing and the prince loves hearing her play the harp and sing. They also share the same dream of everlasting peace between human and fae and look forward to ruling the Land of Swords together to make it happen. Iman muses how theirs is a match made in Heaven and it’s true. 

Now, Heloise’s perfect dream world is interesting because in her dream, the Cheriths are still in power but she and Vidaria still attend NRC with the Diasomnia crew. They all still get along well enough, albeit a bit closer than before. Ane because the Cheriths are still in power, Heloise is never taken hostage. 

Her dream begins with her, Vidaria and Igraine enjoying an early morning flight around the Isle of Sages before classes begin for the day. In history class that day, it’s further revealed that in this dream world, the Cheriths and Draconia’s actually formed an alliance against the Silver Owls and drove them off the land they tried to take from the fae. But in time, the humans and fae also came to some sort of understanding as well. Later, she, Vidaria and Iman have lunch together where they talk about a trip to the Southern Isles they’re planning to take together when school lets out for the summer. 

Florine’s dream begins a few months earlier right before the cultural festival. Initially, she wanted to take part in the VDC but her anxiety about being around Neige for so long prevented her from auditioning. By that point, he had already picked Lilianne to lead the girls’ team and was not being very subtle regarding his feelings for her, making Florine feel pretty insecure. 

But in Florine’s perfect dream world, not only is she part of the RSA Diva’s but she’s also their leader. She makes quick friends with all her teammates and she has a lot of fun creating a performance with them. Neige also takes notice of her and they quickly form a very sweet bond. It’s not known if the RSA Diva’s still lose or if Neige still wins but for Florine, it doesn’t matter. She’s finding her confidence, making more friends and best of all, her crush is taking notice of her. 

[markanddebbie-protectionprogram]

Invincible OC: 6/?

STATUS: Anti-hero (active)

Heloise Contraire, AKA Hellcat

they're @plasmacandle / @dasinclair's oc!!

"My mom's got the whole 'fitting in with humans' thing down a lot better than me, but she never ripped open a hole in reality at her fourth birthday party. That's one infernal power that skipped a generation. It isn't all bad, though - not everyone is lucky enough to know exactly where they're going when they die."

[brudrak]

[oc] The shark pirates have got in the news headline for the first time, this calls for a celebration!! ... For some, at least

Rigel is tired of Kai and Galen putting them in trouble all the time, he just wanted to avoid unnecessary conflicts as much as possible! But it seems they have other plans :‘)

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My spread for the @/opoczine [twitter / instagram] !!! Ft. a few from my OC’s crew 💞  I had a great time meeting everyone and their OCs aaa 🥺💖

The zine is FREE and still is up to download, come check it out it has tons of amazing arts, writings and merchs!! <33

Untold Stories of the Grandline: A One Piece OC Zine

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Instagram | Twitter

⚠ Please, DON’T repost and don’t use this artwork;

[grottweiler]

He's not short, he's fun-sized!

My laptop died the other day, so I'll be using pen and paper until I can get it fixed.

Special thanks to @eldstunga for letting me use their lovely fox girl Heloïse.

[star-synth]

Every second you're not running, she's getting closer

[random-senseless-art]

Today is a [very well known date] But also Heloise's Birthday~

I know i've been slacking for a while Personal problems just keep coming and i'm overwhelmed, but i'm trying to get back to the usual drawing schedule...