#ryxtlin

[beingatoaster]

From the Prompt List: (you don't have to do them all but I figured to give you some options) Fluff 11, 31, 50; Angst 15, 29; General 3, 7

Coyote. My friend, my buddy, my pal. You knew that I was going to do all of them. XD

Fluff - 11. “I’m so proud of you.”

"Well?" Yelkha asks after the second day.

She's not nervous, not at this point, not now that Urtha has warned Bryn, and wrestled her, and grinned at her after. Or at least she's not nervous about Urtha's opinion of Bryn. But this is the first time they've been alone since they met up, Bryn off fetching water while the two of them get wood, and if there's anything Urtha might think it was better to say alone… now's the time to say it.

With her arms full of wood, Urtha can't thump her like she normally does, but she elbows Yelkha hard in the shoulder and grins down at her when Yelkha looks up. "Your own shaman! You did good, little Bull Mother."

"Bryn's great," Yelkha agrees, grinning back up at her. But then she hesitates, the true worry that's been preying on her continuing to stir. "No children with her, though, unless she finds some magic like her mothers did. And I'm not taking a man to bed for them while I'm with her," she adds fiercely, because she's determined on that point.

Urtha comes to a stop, and when Yelkha stops and turns towards her, shifts her load enough to lean in and elbow Yelkha again. This time she leaves her elbow resting there on Yelkha's shoulder and leans forward, bending down so that her long dark grey-streaked-hair falls around her face and brushes against Yelkha's cheek.

"Hey. Bull Mother, listen," she says, low and rumbling and serious, her eyes fixed on Yelkha's. "What Luthic's shamans told us? That was bullshit. Worse. At least you can light fires with what aurochs shit out. Agshru's why I left, but those priestesses are why I didn't come back. Real glad you figured it out in time to make good."

Yelkha sighs, feeling a weight lift off her chest. Then she nods at Urtha, shrugs her elbow off, and ducks out from under her, starting back towards the fireplace again. "I did make good, hey?"

"You did. I always knew you could, Bull Mother. And I'm real proud of you for it."

Her stride stutters at that, at the grin she catches a glimpse of on Urtha's tooth-scarred face when she glances back at it. Yelkha feels her cheeks heating, but she grins, too. She didn't need to know that. But it feels good to hear, all the same.

***

Fluff - 31. “I’m never going to leave you. I promise.”

Almost as soon as the sun has set, the desert grows cold. Saffron Kite is used to this, has been used to this for a very long time. That doesn't mean she likes it. Especially when she's out in it alone.

She'd thought about starting a fire, but then she'd thought about someone coming, strangers or bandits or the giant scorpions that roam the sand, and she hadn't been able to bring herself to do it. Not alone. Maybe once Faush comes. Faush is going to come, they said so. They just have to finish their business in town and then they'll be along.

Except that it's dark, and late, and getting later, and they're still not back. What if something happened to them? What if they were attacked, or hurt, or put in jail again? Or what if- they want a new pack, lots of people. What if they found people they like better than Kite? People they're going to stay with? What if they leave Kite alone out here and never come back?

Kite rises from where she'd been huddled under their blanket, peering out of their tent. She throws the blanket off and begins to pace, nervous energy running through her, making her lash her tail and flex her claws. She wants a tree to scratch against, or a wooden wall, or even a stone, something she can dig into like she can't with sand. She know Faush won't leave her like that, when she thinks about it rationally, but she's cold and she's alone and it's so hard to think with the jitters running through her until all she wants to do is dig her claws into something and-

She sniffs the air and catches a whiff of gnoll-smell, friend-smell. Tailtip twitching with delight, she turns and bounds over the dunes. There's Faush, trudging over the sand towards her, a bag slung over their shoulder that should have their new equipment inside. Kite flings herself at the gnoll with enough force to nearly topple them, purring as loud as her voicebox will allow. Faush yelps, then steadies themself and hugs back, laughing.

"Did you miss me?"

"I did. I got wound up," Kite confesses, shamefaced. "I started thinking maybe something had happened in town, or you were hurt somewhere, or- or you found people you liked better, and you were going to leave with them, without me, and I know you wouldn't, but- you know how I get when I get wound up."

"I know." Faush is patting her on the back, long gentle slow strokes down her spine, in line with the direction of her fur. The shivering anxiety drains out of Kite bit by bit at their touch. "I'd never leave you like that. I promise."

"I know," Kite echoes, rubbing the side of her face against Faush's shoulder, reinforcing her scent-marks from the night before. "Thank you for saying it anyway."

"Any time," Faush promises her.

They let Kite rub her face all over them, and then they push her gently away, and take her hand, and walk hand-in-hand with her back to the camp to light a fire.

***

Fluff - 50. “Stay.”

Yelkha awakens to the sound of rain on the roof. They're on the top floor of the inn, shoved into a tiny room just below the eaves, not by any unkindness on the part of the proprietor but because the inn is full to bursting. She and Bryn had been two of the last to straggle in last night out of the wet, and this is the only inn anywhere along this stretch of road. She's grateful that they had a room at all.

More grateful still that they had a run-in shed--the innkeeper had apologized for not having a stall free for Gurgiu, but he's never been fond of stalls, so it's just as well to have him out in the pasture instead of trapped inside where he might kick his way out. The shed will keep him out of the worst of the weather. And if he wants to frolic in the mud, as he sometimes does, that's a problem for tomorrow. The rain is due to last all through the day.

Somewhere far below Yelkha can hear the intermittent sounds of the staff and other visitors waking up and beginning to fill the taproom. Up here it's almost too far to smell breakfast cooking, but she catches a snatch of bacon and rolls, reluctantly, out of Bryn's arms. She'll collect up food from downstairs and bring it up for Bryn to eat in bed. Even Yelkha doesn't have the heart to bully her out of the sheets in this weather.

Before she can leave the bed entirely, though, Bryn grabs at her, hand settling on her hip, and whines a protest. "Nnnnno. It's too early to get up. Stay."

Yelkha chuckles at her and reaches down to pat her hand. "I'm just getting breakfast. You don't have to get up."

"Stay," Bryn says again, stubbornly, her grip tightening. She tries to pull Yelkha back into bed, but has absolutely no leverage at this angle, so it's just an impatient tug against Yelkha's hip that almost makes her fingers slip off. "It's too early for breakfast."

"Too early for breakfast?"

"If you have to get up for it."

Yelkha doesn't think there is such a thing, but Bryn is peering just far enough out of the nest of blankets for one yellow eye to gleam in the dark, and her pouting mouth to be visible. Looking at her pursed lips makes Yelkha's resolve slip as she imagines what else she might do with themm if Yelkha stays. Her stomach isn't growling, not yet, but perhaps….

"How about I stay a little while longer, then go down and get breakfast once you're more woken up?" Yelkha is already sliding back into the bed and under the covers, reaching out to wrap an arm around Bryn and tug her close.

"Good," Bryn says, sleepily, moving to nestle her head into Yelkha's shoulder.

Yelkha intercepts her, catching those lips with her own and pulling her into a kiss. Bryn makes a startled noise, but leans enthusiastically into it as soon as she's realized what's happening. Yelkha breaks away long enough to grin at her. "I only said I was going to stay, hey? I didn't say I was going to let you go back to sleep."

***

Angst - 15. “What gives you the right to just waltz back into my life after all the pain you’ve caused."

"What gives you the right?" Itherai demands, glaring up at the bugbear towering over her.

There's a broad grin on that shaggy, idiot face, spotted arm reaching down to offer Itherai a hand up. She ignores it, pushing herself slowly and laboriously off the ground, almost falling when she puts weight on her left knee and pain pierces through it. Gritting her teeth, she powers through and rises, swaying, to her feet. A touch against the silver star at her throat sends a belated pulse of power through her, soothing away the worst of the hurt, though there's not enough moonlight left gathered in it to restore her as fully as she needs. At least it's strength enough to glare up at Kolya again without toppling.

Seeing her touch the star, Kolya thumps her hand against her own chest, where the golden star that's twin to Itherai's own still hangs. "You are finally doing as the gods wish, and not what you wish, and so the gods wished me to save you. That makes me right."

"Do you not even understand the words I'm saying? After all the trouble you've caused, after everything you've done, what gives you the right to come back here? You ignited this spark, you reinvigorated the rebellion, you gave them a cause and a name and a champion to unite around, and then you just- just left! Do you know how much pain you've created? How much turmoil? How many have died, because you could neither let the ashes settle nor stay to support what you roused?"

"But I am back now," Kolya says. She doesn't even have the grace to sound wounded; she just grins even more broadly at Itherai, showing all those sharp shining teeth, like that should make up for everything. "We will work together, and my band will help, and the priests will find out what the gods really think of them."

Oh, no. She has more people with her. Just as undisciplined and stupid, Itherai is uncertain, and just as disasterous to the delicate work of shifting society without throwing it further into disarray. Itherai shakes her head and turns on her heel, ignoring how it makes her head spin. Kolya's fingers brush against her shoulder, but don't grip to catch her as she starts to walk away.

"No," she says coldly, not looking back. "You threw away that chance when you left the first time. I will not be working with you."

***

Angst - 29. “You deserve better.” (I, um, forgot that this one was supposed to be angst >>)

The forge is small, and dark, and dusty, and half the tools are broken. Finding it had taken far too long, even with directions, because Ryxtlin hadn't expected it to be tucked so far into the back of an alley in the artisan district, despite what Scrape had said. She stomps inside when she finds it at last, guided by the sound of hammering and a kenku's off-key whistle, and looks around with obstinate displeasure.

"Ugh," she says, and then, when that doesn't feel like expression enough, "Not worth two gold. Not worth two copper. Smith-friend deserves better."

Scrape, who had set her hammer aside when Ryxtlin came banging in, shrugs. "A forge is a forge. Scrape has tools and metal. There is an anvil, and light."

That sentence comes out all in one piece, the same voice all through, something mammalian--human, Ryxtlin thinks, or deep-voiced halfling--and far too condescending. Ryxtlin only bristles more. Especially when she looks at the anvil and sees that the horn is broken off on it. Scrape can fix it, probably. But she shouldn't have to.

"Who rented to Scrape?" she asks. "Ryxtlin is paying them visit."

***

General - 3. “I love you.” “You shouldn’t.” (and then I made this one angsty, so it balances out!)

There are words that Tulkar has been careful not to say. He's aware of the ephemeral nature of their relationship; he's aware, also, that it weighs on Sudryal on a way that it doesn't on him. Someday Tulkar will have to return to his forest and his duties there, and Sudryal will have to return to his own. For Tulkar, it will only be a pleasant interlude in what he very much hopes will be a long and fruitful life, but whether it's because he's an elf, or because of his hermitage's solitude, or because of his own inner nature, he can tell that it weighs on Sudryal far more.

So he tries not to make it worse by saying things that Sudryal will have to remember and regret. It's not easy, especially after a certain point. He's used to being open in his affections. But he keeps the words to himself and expresses his feelings through gesture, instead, which Sudryal seems to appreciate, even if he blushes and squirms and grumbles at him when Tulkar pulls him into a hug or leans down to kiss his forehead or his cheek.

But he forgets himself now and then in the morning, or more often if Sudryal stirs in the middle of the night, when he's still a bit sleep-blurred. Fortunately, he forgets himself in his native language. Sudryal, it seems, doesn't know Orcish. There's no reason why he should. And so if Tulkar murmurs to him, "Shhh, I love you, go back to sleep," it's just noise to him, a comforting sound to go with Tulkar's arm around his chest and a kiss against the tip of his ear or the back of his head. He still stiffens or squirms, because that's what Sudryal does, but it's simply grumpiness and not a more heartfelt complaint.

If Grai is awake, sometimes she'll looks over in recognition, but Tulkar never thinks anything of it. She won't give him away. He doesn't think about Gul, who is never awake for those quiet interludes, or that Tulkar talks to them now and then about things he wouldn't mention to anyone else. Not until the long, restless night when Sudryal wakes screaming into Tulkar's hand and tries to pull out of his arms and Tulkar, unwilling to let go, murmurs calming nonsense into his ear. "No, stay, go back to sleep, I love you and I'll keep you safe…."

Sudryal goes stiff in a way entirely different from the rigidness of embarrassment. He stops fighting, but doesn't relax into Tulkar's grip like usual. "You shouldn't," he mutters, so quietly that Tulkar might think that he wasn't supposed to hear, except that it was in Common, not Elvish.

Tulkar goes still too, holding him, though he doesn't risk letting go. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, churning through all the possible answers. Sudryal likely didn't mean that to sting like rejection, but it does, hurting the way the elf's self-loathing so often does whether he means it to or not. Tulkar wants to argue with that self-loathing, make the case, as always, for why Sudryal deserves his affection and he deserves to be allowed to give it. But he can never win that argument against the implacable black creep of self-hatred flowing through Sudryal, and he's even less likely to do so now, in the dark of night, with Sudryal still shaking from the memory of his dreams.

"Maybe," Tulkar says instead, as much as he hates making even that concession. "But I do, and you can't stop me."

When he tugs Sudryal a little closer, nestling him close to his chest, Sudryal lets him do it. He relaxes only slowly, but eventually the iron goes out of his spine and the tension out of his muscles, and he settles, however annoyed, back into Tulkar's embrace.

***

General - 7. “Is that blood?” “Yes but that doesn’t matter right now, what does matter is-” “You are literally bleeding.”

Isgrac stumbles forward towards the body of the one bandit who hadn't run. She feels absurdly tired for the amount of magic she'd used; she's practiced Mind Spike with Filgrun before, so she knows she has the spellpower for it, but she's weak and shaky nonetheless, an odd chill spreading upward from her fingertips and toes. The woman is dead, now, but her face swims in front of Isgrac's eyes still, white with terror, blood streaming from her nose and trickling from her ears.

Her chin and cheek are streaked with it when Isgrac reaches her body, already darkening as it dries. The flow has slowed to a bare dribble, if that. Right. Once the heart stops beating, blood stops spurting from wounds, it just drains slowly. Isgrac has read about that.

The blood had gotten to her collar before it slowed, though, and there's more blood on her shirt around the arrow-wound where Kanti had gotten her in the chest. Isgrac thinks that might have been the killing blow; it's around where the heart would be for a hobgoblin, and humans aren't built that differently. But she's not sure if it was. Maybe her spell was, instead. In the chaos of the battle, it's hard to be certain of anything. She's only grateful that the rest broke and ran when this one fell.

Doing her best not to touch the bloodied cloth, Isgrac fumbles for the pouches at the woman's belt. She'd seen one that looked like a scroll case. When she opens it up, it's not a magic scroll rolled up inside, but it's something almost as useful. Her hands are strangely shaky as she spreads out the map.

"Is that blood?" Kanti says from behind her, sounding alarmed. Maybe she's in shock. It was the first time Isgrac has killed someone, it's probably Kanti's first time, too, unless something happened at the circle that she hasn't told Isgrac about.

"Um, yes?" Isgrac says, not sure if she should be gentle with her or not. Probably she should. It's Kanti, after all. She tries to stand up with her prize and stumbles as she rises, but Kanti catches her arm from behind and hauls her the rest of the way up. Swaying a little, with her head spinning for some reason, Isgrac turns to show her the map. "That's not important right now. Look what I found, now we can-"

"Isgrac, you're bleeding," Kanti interrupts her. She puts a hand against Isgrac's chest and there's a sudden cool rush much more welcome than the numbing cold in her limbs, a feeling like an autumn breeze through the mountains. Isgrac can almost smell the pines. The world stops spinning quite so badly, and the chill in her limbs fades, replaced by the warmth of Kanti so close.

Then the faint sensation of nausea that Isgrac had been ignoring rolls through with sudden, surprising force. She shoves the map roughly into Kanti's hands and doubles over, emptying the morning's ration onto the dust of the road. Out of the corner of her eye she catches sight of the bandit woman's wide, staring empty eyes, and white face streaked with blood, and a second wrenching wave passes through her as she vomits up more bile. She closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths, then rises again, shaky but less so.

"We can, um. Find the main road again. With the map," she proposes weakly, not quite looking at Kanti.

"Yeah," Kanti says, sounding a bit faint. She puts an arm around Isgrac's shoulders. "Let's sit down somewhere for a while first though. Off the road."

Isgrac nods, her eyes prickling. "Yes. Let's, um, do that."

[beingatoaster]

MY OTHER GIRL (I really love this pose and style!)

a commission for @beingatoaster of her kobold, Ryxtlin!

[beingatoaster]

Hester: 2, 10, 20, 35; Ryxtlin: 5, 11, 21, 29; Fsssh: 4, 12, 26, 37; Kolya: 1, 7, 32, 40; Jedda: 8, 18, 33, 38; Isgrac The Returned: 9, 14, 28 (once it's on the spell list), 37?

Here we are! :D

Hester

2. what’s their current hairstyle? has it changed? do they change it often?

Her hair is currently long and tangled and matted, which is its usual state. Sometimes she hacks it short, when it frustrates her, but it always grows out again. She's not any good at keeping it tidy even when she's in a state where she can do so, so it just... grows, and tangles, and eventually matts.

10. would they sneak out at night to look at the sky? how long would they stay there looking?

Sometimes Hester will, when her head doesn't hurt too much. It clears it sometimes when it's just a minor ache, staring up at the stars for ages. If she does go out to do that, she stays there all night.

20. do they like to keep plants/growing things in their space?

She thinks... maybe she did? once? In the life that doesn't exist anymore, she vaguely remembers bright little water plants, if plants is what they were, though she has no idea if they were in her space or she was in theirs. These days... somehow they always end up destroyed when the headaches get too bad, if she tries.

35. do they sing with their head voice or their chest voice?

She doesn't like music. Or maybe the voice doesn't like music, but it can't be the voice, because it makes her head hurt to hear it. Given the way the migraines grow when she can't escape the sound... she doesn't try to sing.

***

Ryxtlin

5. if they wear any, how does your character go about applying makeup? (methodically, nervously, messily, etc)

She doesn't much go for makeup, but she has tried scale polish and horn polish before! They were fairly nervous and uncertain applications because she was not super familiar, and they stained some perfectly good robes, so she has decided that they were too much work.

11. how do they feel about casual endearments? (babe, etc)

I think Ryxtlin would be super tsundere about it, honestly--she'd gripe and protest, but secretly be very pleased that someone liked her enough to do that.

21. do they touch or mess with their hair/horns a lot?

Not a whole lot! Once she gets a hat properly settled on the horns (she's usually had to cut horn-holes in it, which has the side benefit of making it more secure once placed), she doesn't mess with it, because she doesn't want to have to do that again.

29. if they wear any, where did they get their jewelry?

Any jewelry Ryxtlin wears would be a prize, justly won or taken. Maybe not by the standards of the local law, but by her personal standards, anyway. Unless they were gifts from friends, which I don't know has happened, but would make them even MORE valuable prizes to carry and display.

***

Fsssh

4. would your character sing along to a vaguely familiar song, even if they messed up the lyrics as they went?

As long as no one told him not to, and there wasn't anyone authoritative around to be annoyed by it! He would only be able to sing along if he'd heard it before, so he figures most people would understand that the incorrect lyrics aren't his fault, anyway. He would be happy to take their corrections!

12. what color would they paint their room? would there be a design on the ceiling?

Fsssh wouldn't really think of painting a room, especially if it had nice wood walls--he likes nice natural wood patterns. But if the room was the kind of gross that needed repainting, he'd probably pick something nice and cheerful, like a light blue or yellow. Diagrams on the ceiling would be fun, but he wouldn't think of it on his own, someone would have to suggest it.

26. do they write in their books? do they mind other people writing in their books? what do they write?

If it's HIS book and not one that he's borrowed, yes, he makes notes in his books all the time. And he doesn't mind other people writing in his so long as they don't mark anything (original text or his own notes) in the process. He writes notes on the text and sometimes commentary in the margin, and obessively corrects anything he knows to be wrong (not by striking it out, he doesn't get to do that either, but by writing a detailed correction in tiny font in the margins and then drawing a line over to the incorrect bit).

37. how would they pass the time on a train?

It depends on how lively the train car was. If everyone was quiet, he'd mostly read, but if people were chatting and talking, he'd people-watch! He wouldn't get involved in conversations unelss invited, but he always loves a chance to put new stuff in the Memory Banks.

***

Kolya

1. what kind of clothing does your character like to wear? do they have a style? anything they avoid wearing?

She loves anything flashy, bright, and expensive, though it has to fit some requirements--no or minimal sleeves, nothing long on her legs either, and it can't either be so tight as to be binding in action or so long and drapy as to get in the way. Between those ranges, anything goes, so long as it's eye-catching and draws attention.

7. how would they react to eating something that was spicier than they expected it to be?

Spitting and a lot of that cat lip-curl... a pause while she drinks water... and then diving anew into the food, because now it's a CHALLENGE.

32. can they play darts? would they?

Can she? I've never rolled her stats, but I know she's largely a Strength-based build, so probably not well. WILL she? Of course! She just needs to keep practicing, and she WILL practice every opportunity she's able. Especially if it's a competition.

40. if their mattress became uncomfortable as time passed, would they notice it? would they do anything about it?

Oh, she'd definitely notice, and would remedy it as soon as possible. Kolya CAN sleep rough, but why do that when she doesn't have to? She should have luxury whenever the opportunity presents itself.

***

Jedda

8. are their hands steady?

Yes! She's one of those people where when she's scared or nervous, the world narrows down and she paradoxically gets steadier.

18. would they sing a lullaby, if the opportunity arose?

She grew up with a bunch of niblings on a houseboat, so she has a lot of practice, and honestly would LOVE the opportunity to sing one for her group. In fact, maybe that's what the wizard needs for her sleep problems....

33. where are they in a group hug? (dead center, outside, etc)

Well, going by recent in-game events, the nucleus, because she's usually the instigator, and everyone else gathered around after she hugged the first person both times it happened. (Being the shortest of the group also contributes. She might be on the outside more in an all-halfling group!)

38. do they bother to clean ink/chalk/gunpowder/etc off of their fingers? are they likely to forget it’s there and smudge their nose?

Oh, she absolutely forgets and smudges herself up, at least if it's any kind of attention-grabbing situation. The fate of the ship, or the successful completion of the letter, is more important than a little bit of smearing!

***

Isgrac

9. if someone gave them flowers, what would they do with them?

Previously answered!

14. do they tend to run hot or cold? do they do anything to deal with that?

Isgrac is actually pretty insensitive to temperature. She probably LOOKS like she runs cold because she wears so many knits and layers, but that's just because that's what she's used to wearing after spending all her life in the mountains. She doesn't notice that she's hot in them, though, really, unless she gets grossly sweaty (and at that point it's usually post-fight and she's gross in so many ways that temperature doesn't register). She likes bundling up, but it's honestly more an emotional response than a temperature response. She couldn't tell you which way she ran if asked, temperature is just... an irrelevant variable to her unless it's really, really intense.

28. if they can fly, how do they feel in the moment their feet touch the ground again?

I suspect she'd feel both relieved (that she doesn't have to worry about concentration breaking and being knocked out of the sky) and disappointed (that she's not high up above everything, able to see the big picture so much more clearly). I think she is going to LIKE flying outside of a combat situation a whole lot, so if there's no danger present, it's just the disappointment.

37. how would they pass the time on a train?

Almost certainly reading, unless someone was there willing to be infodumped at, in which case she could also spend a couple happy hours with a captive audience!

[beingatoaster]

for the Prospective Titles, may a comrade humbly submit: "Ryxtlin's Big Day Out," "War and Pizza, the Farreach Monologues," "The Keeper of the Hunt and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day," "Of Mice and Mer," and/or last but not least, "James and the Giant Leech"

"Ryxtlin's Big Day Out": a story in which Ryxtlin wanders away from the party, tricks some bandits, fights a chimera, goes into town and steals from a bunch of rude kidnappers, hangs an arrogant wizard-tower headmaster upside-down from the top of his tower with his underwear showing, and then finds a nice knife and takes it to Scrape. At the end of the day she goes back to camp and, when Corric asks what she did all day, just mutters, "stuff."

"War and Pizza, the Farreach Monologues": equal chance of a day-in-the-life story of a Farreach pizza seller overrun by the Stormlight and Rideout families, or a timid lost locathah there to ask for military help, according to treaty and alliance terms, only to be overwhelmed by friendly halfling hospitality.

"The Keeper of the Hunt and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day": I feel like you've already met her on one of her own worst days, so: this is someone's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad day. :) That someone is not Uaxotzin Cotloxoche, Guardian of the Gates of the Wild Hunt, Mistress of the Horned God's Hounds, High Priestess of Balinor, and Keeper of the Hunt. :) If there was one less adjective on that title they might live to regret it, but... sometimes lessons learned are very, very final. (Listen: I love writing bloody and savage murders and you know this.)

"Of Mice and Mer": I know this probably meant "mer" as in "merfolk," but my first thought was "mer" as in "the elves of the Elder Scrolls," and thus this is the tale of the Nerevar and a small mouse he befriended as a moral lesson to his followers.

"James and the Giant Leech": A small boy and his very, very large leech-friend! Who roam across the land dealing with large, dangerous monsters in a very effective way. People think James has tamed the leech. This is incorrect. The leech has tamed a human translator.

[beingatoaster]

My girl arrived from the Heroforge Kickstarter! I'm genuinely impressed with the level of detail--my camera can't pick it up, but the red of her eyes are even there under her hat. Literally the only detail that isn't visible is her single flat ring, and even that I can kind of see it. :D

[beingatoaster]

More pics of my new Heroforge color-printed mini, in order to show it in a better light and definitely not just to show off my girl >>

[beingatoaster]

🍁🌻 for Corric, 🌳🌸 for Ryxtlin, 🍄🥀 for Fsssh, and 🌾🌺 for Phyrea?

A very long delay on this one, but at last, all the questions have been answered!

Corric

🍁 Where does your OC go when they need to have some time to themself? Would they ever have their own “comfort corner” filled with all the things they like? Do they have a favourite spot outside that feels like its theirs and theirs alone?

TBH, Corric doesn't isolate herself much, because a childhood in a large halfling family made that difficult, and it worried her family when she did do it. But she did have her own little corner of her room (which was shared with siblings, mind) which was all hers, where she kept her childhood treasures, when she was young. Probably she wouldn't feel the need to do that as an adult, she'd like her own house but she'd spread her stuff across it and invite people in, but she would keep a couple things (mementos and letters) secret to look at on her own. As for the outdoors, again, there was no place that was just hers because of the size of her family and the nature of halflings, but she got into the habit of, if she needed some fresh air and space, to find a chore to do outside, and she still does that. If Corric volunteers to go wood-gathering or water-hauling or hunting for the party, that's what she's doing.

🌻 What little things do they notice about people or the world around them that make them happy? What tiny little treasures do they find in the normal every day that makes the world seem a little brighter for them?

Well, on the larger end of the scale, she notices every time someone she considers a friend calls her one, whether to her face or in her earshot! She knows everyone isn't as freely affectionate in that respect as she is, so it's nice to be reminded that they think they've crossed that threshold with her. As for the everyday, she's one of those people who really likes brisk clear mornings, and bright sun with a breeze, and so on, so it always delights her when the weather's nice. She also likes just watching people go about their regular business and routines. It is very soothing to see someone do something they're so practiced at that it's automatic, especially, if it's clear that it's soothing for that person as well.

---

Ryxtlin

🌳 What is your OC’s favourite way to relax after a stressful day? Do they have a favourite book to curl up with? A hobby? Or do they have a nice bubble bath and have an early night to bed?

It sort of depends on the stress of the day! If the main stress was people being judgemental at her, she'll spend some time going over her spellbook and fantasizing about being a dragon and eating them, while if it involved frustrations re: the spellbook and her reading difficulties, she'll leave it alone and just daydream entirely about the dragon thing. On the other hand, if it's more of an action-stressful day, e.g. adventuring troubles, she's more likely to spend a lot of time self-grooming, getting herself clean and neatening up her scales, and then go to bed early and... fantasize about being a dragon. Listen. Thinking about being a dragon is always soothing.

🌸 What are some of their favourite things and why? List as many as you can think of!

Fun spells that she feels justified in using, fancy wizardly clothes, the feeling when she masters a spell and feels it click, the admiration or fear on other people's faces when she does show it off, people asking her advice or listening to her opinion, really good clay and the free time to play with it, watching Scrape work at the forge, having her questions answered clearly and without complaint, finding something rare and fancy to pass on, a very nice hat (whether wizardly or not), good quills that haven't gotten tattered yet, cheese (any cheese), good conversations with friends who take her seriously and don't have a problem with how she talks.

---

Fsssh

🍄 What are your OCs favourite snacks? Their favourite comfort food which always cheers them up when they’re down? Favourite meal to make? Do they enjoy baking and cooking and are they any good in the kitchen?

He doesn't have cook's tools proficiency in the Wormwood timeline like he did in his original design (UA artificer versus actual book artificer, a tool proficiency got dropped somewhere), but I do still headcanon him as a pretty decent cook, just because he puts a lot of effort into getting it right. He likes doing it for other people, but cares less when it's just him he's feeding.

His comfort food... people get real weirded out when he says this, but it's scrambled eggs. Listen, they're not kenku eggs, there's nothing weird about it, but he keeps it kind of private because it is upsetting for others. His favorite snacks are nuts and hard candy, both of which he saves for himself as treats.

🥀 How would your OC decorate a notebook or journal? What kind of things are written in there? Could you give an example of a nice entry?

Most of Fsssh's notebooks are pretty bland--he takes what's available at the time he goes looking for them, and usually buys in bulk. Taking what's available means that he does sometimes end up with some fairly wild ones, though. He doesn't really have a personal journal, he has notebooks divided up for different projects, but there is usually one that he saves for his own observations that he thinks would be irrelevant to his master or anyone else reviewing it. Sketches of people, mostly, and little personal notes about them, such as things they seem to like or dislike. That notebook isn't any visually different than the others, but it's the only one where he just draws and doodles, instead of diagrams, so there's usually doodles on the inside of the front cover....

"Spent the evening in the garden. Several small insects.

[rough little pictures of crickets or whatever]

Purple flowers glowed at what I calculated to be about an hour after twilight. Saw the kitten again, it liked the fish, wasn't interested in the soft cheese. Approximately .8 pounds now and becoming more agile.

[several very rough doodles of a kitten playing with a dangled flower]"

---

Phyrea

🌾 Describe your OC through the eyes of someone absolutely head-over-heels in love with them

Phyrea is always bright. Physically and literally, of course, because only when her magic is damped does her hair stop blazing; even when she's overextended herself and too short to do any but the smallest spells, her tight coal-pale curls still glow redly with the fire within them. But internally, too, and it shines through in her bright golden eyes, flashing with anger or delight in turns, and in her quick tight movements, never still, always pacing and turning and bouncing on the balls of her feet, and in the sharpness and energy of her gestures, like she has to talk with her whole body to get her passion across.

She's small, a little over five feet and nothing on her but wiry muscle, but she has endurance to spare, and that muscle flexes and tightens over her bones like a dancer's, giving her a grace and speed to match the flames that she creates. She wears little, and what she wears is simple, because when there's a good chance you'll be ablaze at some point during a fight it's foolish to don what will only burn. She's light on her feet and light-fingered, precise, if not delicate, though she can be so very careful when handling something, or someone, she wants to preserve. But most of all she's passionate, filled with the light of justice, refusing to ever stop shining in its pursuit.

🌺 What does your OC do to calm down when they’re scared or after a nightmare? Do they have any special comfort items or need to be reassured by a specific person? How do they handle this if they’re alone?

Phyrea doesn't spook easy, which sounds like the kind of brag she'd make, but is also pretty much true. She has the kind of self-confidence that makes it hard for her to be intimidated, and the firepower to back it up. She is frightened of things happening to other people, though, and the nightmares that wake her up in fear are generally on that theme as well. The best reassurance is to check on those people, if they're available--Tiaathque will sometimes wake up to Phyrea leaning over her, checking anxiously to make sure she's all right. (It sucks when the nightmares involve something happening to her family, because they're far away at this point.) She doesn't really want reassurance besides affirmation that someone she was frightened for is fine, it wounds her pride. If she's alone, she mostly takes deep breaths and tries to talk herself up with how unlikely it is that the person she's worried about is actually in trouble.

[beingatoaster]

Dice organization means character dice pics! I only repeated one, for updates, but in order:

First up is Ryxtlin! I've gotten lots of new dice for her, so I cycled some out to add the nice new ones. :>

Felicity! She has a "core" set, but I got her a bunch more for a wider spread.

Franzka! Originally she just had the amber-and-iron set (which didn't photograph well), but the other players keep drawing her in purple and blue, so they've become her colors too.

I realized I never posted Nib's dice, so here we are! I did replace a set from my original spread for her, because they were similar colors, but the new set was sparkly.

And because his one-shot is today, Usakrut! I didn't need dice, because we're on Roll20, but I always like having a set on hand, and this was perfectly his colors.

[beingatoaster]

...if i haven't managed to fling asks your way yet (or if you just need more): 🌹☄️💐 for Ryxtlin, 🍄💦🌸 for Housin, 🍂🌼🌺 for Fsssh, 🌾🌲🍁 for Malithah, and 🌿🥀💫 for Nib?

Once again, I apologize for the delay in answering (and to answer the other implied question, you did send another set for this meme, but I’m saving it for the next time I need a writing warm-up :P).

Ryxtlin

🌹 Where in the world does your OC feel most at home? Is there any reason why? If it’s not the place they were born, where were they born? Is there a certain somebody that makes them feel at home where ever they may be? What does home mean to them?

Ryxtlin defines "home" as a place where you're comfortable being yourself. She's still fond of her tribe, and of the home they made for themselves, but she's not sure how much like home it would feel if she went back now. She will eventually, of course, when she's a dragon, but she'll have to build her own home in those mountains then, and she's secretly not sure how much it will feel that way either until she's worn it in for a couple centuries. And as fond as she is of Corric, that crew isn't her home either. Honestly, the closest she's come is hanging out with Scrape, not that she'd ever admit that.

☄️ Does this OC deserve better treatment from you? Do you make them suffer just a little bit too much? Be nice to them!

She gets to turn into a dragon, that's PLENTY nice. Ryxtlin is another of those characters who I feel like is made who she is by her challenges, so I as a writer wouldn't take them away. I don't actually think I've ever done something gratuitously mean to her? Not so far, anyway.

💐 How does your OC handle being unwell or forced to rest in bed? Who cares for them and in what ways? Does your OC enjoy being doted on or are they a terrible patient? Reversed: is your OC good at taking care of others who are ill or in need?

Ryxtlin gets very cranky when she's sick, and all she wants to do is curl up in a little ball and be left alone until she recovers. She wouldn't mind being brought helpful things like soups and teas and blankets, as long as it's someone she trusts with her weaknesses, but even a hint of fussing or pity and she'll get all bitey about it. She's not good at all at caring for others, because she assumes they want the same privacy, so anyone she's in a position to have to tend to will wake up to find things left for them while they were sleeping, but no other interaction.

---

Housin

🍄 What are your OCs favourite snacks? Their favourite comfort food which always cheers them up when they’re down? Favourite meal to make? Do they enjoy baking and cooking and are they any good in the kitchen?

I think I've mentioned before that Housin really likes grapes and raisins, not that she'd put it that way. She would be completely baffled at the idea of comfort food, honestly, and I'm not sure there's anything she'd even react to that way--most "comfort foods" are carb-heavy, so that's for when you're going to have a busy day tomorrow, but she wouldn't want to eat anything that heavy unless it was for a reason. She's a very indifferent cook, with her only standard being "edible," but she knows a range of different soups sandwiches that aren't hard to put together fairly fast. Cooking is something you do for fuel, not for pleasure, so she's not going to waste time on too much fancy stuff.

💦 If you as the writer could erase one traumatic event from this OC’s life what would it be and why?

This once again hits the complication that, as a writer, a lot of her trauma is characterization-building! I guess, as a creator who does love her... well, I wouldn't want to change her original kidnapping because then she'd never have been in a position to meet Fifth Red Petal and Bloom, but I've always assumed that the original ocean crossing was pretty Awful, and it wouldn't necessarily have to be, a little kid's not going far on a big sailing ship. Or her "testing" as a gladiator-trainee, which was the first time she killed someone. Or... okay, I might have been a little extra mean to her now and then.

🌸 What are some of their favourite things and why? List as many as you can think of!

Since it's on my mind, grapes, raisins, raisin oatmeal cookies, wine.... Fifth Red Petal, in general, and getting to see her uncovered smile, which is rare. Swinging an arm out or a knee up at just the right angle to get someone who thought they were sneaking up on her. Landing a perfect hit with her quarterstaff and feeling the thunk as it connects. Cutting her own hair and getting it perfectly even. Being able to say no to missions she doesn't want to take. Having a reason to say no to missions. Being warm when it's cold, especially when that warmth is a person who will fold themselves around her to warm her up. Having her input solicited, and being listened to when it's given. Being listened to even when it wasn't solicited. Having people she can trust at her back. Being trusted by those people, too.

---

Fsssh

🍂 Does your OC enjoy hugs? What do they do as a show of affection for: their friends, their family, their significant other(s) or for strangers? Over all what are they like with recieving affection from others?

Fsssh understands what hugs mean to most species, and appreciates getting them! They're a little physically awkward for him, feathers getting ruffled and so on, and they're not natural enough a gesture for him to offer them himself except in moments of extreme emotional awkwardness, but he is glad of the feeling behind them when given.

His main forms of affection are gifts and acts of service! He gives useful things to people in general, even if they aren't close, so long as there's any kind of association--it's best to keep teammates and co-workers well-supplied. But friends will find more and more trinkets and other impractical gifts, ranging from shiny stones and bits of metal (corvid instincts XD) to little art pieces and such, as Fsssh becomes fonder and fonder of them. He'll also do small favors for anyone he's even mildly fondly inclined towards, but he will dedicate more and more time and effort to friends as he gets closer to, as well.

He's never quite sure how to express appreciation for gifts, and he's pretty sure that his responses are underwhelming, but it's just that he's not very effusive about showing he's happy. His thanks will be sincere, though. And if something really, really delights him, he might hop around a little bit.

🌼 Who are this characters friends and found family? How did they meet, how long have they been friends for, could they ever be something more than just friends? What do they look for in a friend or a romantic partner?

Leaving aside a bunch of NPC goblins that I know exist but haven't really detailed for myself (except that a lot of them are dead, due to his hobgoblin masters treating them as disposable), probably his two best friends are Ferosi, from our discussions about them, and Iroh, in the Wormwood D&D server. I don't recall that we actually discussed how he and Ferosi met! XD But they of course bonded over being artificers, and despite the significant roadbump of Differing Views on Hobgoblins (or at least certain hobgoblin military powers), I consider them to be good friends who have known each other a while. I know that Fsssh, at least, writes Ferosi many regular letters. (She's also an "invisible" part of his backstory in Wormwood, in that while she hasn't come up directly, I play him as if he's had her in his life and still writes to her often.) Iroh he met by going on a number of missions together for the adventuring company, and found that Iroh was a fellow scholar and science enthusiast--focused in a different area of study, but with broad enough interests to be an avid observer of, and sometimes participant in, Fsssh's work. (Fsssh thinks of him as very like a lab goblin, since he has happily volunteered to be a test subject for dangerous experiments, in the name of science.)

There's a few other people in Wormwood that he thinks positively of--RowKoo, Calypso, and Diarmuid are at the top of the list--but he hasn't interacted with them much outside of missions yet, so things are developing more slowly. When seeking out friends, he wants people who share similar interests, and can hold an interesting conversation about either their passions, his, or preferably both. Personal connections and concern are nice, but they come later.

In regards to what he looks for in romantic partners.... I haven't quite figured out if Fsssh is outright aro-ace, or if he's just only interested in fellow birds, given that he hasn't met any kenku or aarakocra in his adventures so far. But it's one or the other! He's vaguely wistful about it sometimes, because the people around it talk romance and intimacy up as such big important things, but most of the time, he is content with friends. Having people actually care about him can sometimes be so overwhelmingly heartwarming that he's not even really sure what more there COULD be to ask for.

🌺 What does your OC do to calm down when they’re scared or after a nightmare? Do they have any special comfort items or need to be reassured by a specific person? How do they handle this if they’re alone?

When possible, which it rarely is because he has to be 100% alone to take the mask off, Fsssh preens himself to calm down after troubling experiences and thoughts. When that's not possible, which is most of the time, he fiddles with things instead--pens, commonly, or tools from his various sets of tools, or anything else that he can do some little, unobtrusive repetitive motions with. He might even engage in a spot of soothing alchemy, if he has the time and space, running through a very simple recipe repeatedly in order to soothe himself by the way it always goes exactly right and always turns out just as expected. Repetition and movement are his touchstones.

---

🌾 Describe your OC through the eyes of someone absolutely head-over-heels in love with them

Mal is a little slip of the thing, and she's not the sort where you forget that when she's raging--she's not even a full five feet, and if you're taller, that doesn't go away. But that just means that she takes people by surprise, coming in under them and hitting them hard from underneath, and she smirks so wide when she knocks them over that you love seeing them underestimate her like that. She's not one for all that much clothing, which is all the better for seeing all the strength she's packed onto that wiry little frame, the way her shoulders knot up and her biceps bulge and every muscle flexes all the way down through her core to her curled toes when she pushes hard upward against something or someone bigger and taller than her. In a fight or out of it, she's got the kind of grace that you want to modify with 'brutal,' moving so smooth, hips swinging when she walks, but still moving heavy and with intent. It's like a big cat, prowling through her territory. Her hair swings around her like a long white curtain, and she might not smile often, but her scowl looks like the kind you'd put on a hero's statue, with the way her lips curve and her brow furrows and her eyes flash. And when she does smile, it's fierce and wild and satisfied, and you know that whatever wrung it out of her earned that glimpse of it.

🌲 How deeply does your OC feel? Are they typically empathetic or do they have a hard time connecting with others in this way? What are they like when offering support and comfort to someone they care for?

Malithah only knows RAGE. No, that's not true, but she's very angry very often, and it has the unfortunate side effect of squashing a lot of other things she may be feeling at the same time. She connects best with other people who are embittered or easily angered, whether by injustice or loss or any other reason, and she's not good at all at empathizing with people who respond to pain with sorrow instead. Her comfort is usually in the form of offering to kill someone for you, but if given a clear request that doesn't require too much for her emotionally, like just sitting with you, she's capable of that. Left alone or with vaguer parameters, she flounders, and generally goes to off to find someone else (specifically, Nan) to deal with the problem.

🍁 Where does your OC go when they need to have some time to themself? Would they ever have their own “comfort corner” filled with all the things they like? Do they have a favourite spot outside that feels like its theirs and theirs alone?

Back when she lived with her house, Mal actually did have a "comfort corner" like that! Well, it was hers and her twins, but the main thing that comforted them when they needed to resort to it was each other, so that worked out well. Even when she needed to be alone, she liked having Erennis around--they joked that since they were twins, they weren't really with another person, just their other half. But with him gone, she does a LOT of stalking off to find solitude. Out on the road, that's usually just far enough from the camp that she can't hear what's going on there. Finding another, permanent place to hole up will have to wait until she's not living the traveling lifestyle anymore.

---

Nib

🌿 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?

This is kind of a weakness for Nib in a couple different ways! First off, how do you *vague hand gestures* make friends? Secondly, how do you tell whether they're friends once you've made them? Third, IS there a way to indicate someone you like them without babbling at them about how great they are? One of Nib's traits IS that she has trouble filtering her emotions and is prone to emotional outbursts, and most of those outbursts are verbal. XD

But presuming that she made friends, and was around them long enough to learn how to moderate her fondness into something other than chattering away at them, she'd probably end up giving them gifts, as a secondary way of showing she cares. Did she acquire these gifts legally? Does it matter? I think she'd be very big on forcing colorful, garish clothing on people, in particular, because I don't think she has the emotional intelligence just yet to understand that people might not be overjoyed by the same things that would delight her.

Speaking of emotional intelligence, she wouldn't be able to read most non-verbal indicators that she is Liked, but she would probably be able to interpret Nice Hats and Nice Scarves and other Nice Garments (i.e., anything colorful that is not pants).

🥀 How would your OC decorate a notebook or journal? What kind of things are written in there? Could you give an example of a nice entry?

Nib would decorate the CRAP out of a personal journal, probably with a whole bunch of bright-colored fabric patchworked together over the covers, then sparkly stuff (glitter, little chips of colored glass, tiny mirrors... does Eberron have rhinestones?) on top, and at random inside as well. If she could get colored ink, she'd definitely use colored ink. It would have fairly random entries, because she would forget she was journaling, or get bored with it, for long stretches of time, but whenever she got sufficiently excited about something she'd write it down, possibly long after the fact if she'd forgotten about the journal a while, in a very disjointed and staccato style.

"Train today - big bear! - v. crowded, changed clothes a bunch, definitely no one saw me - made a badge! TRAIN DEPUTY. - sky pirates, big harpoons!

- could've been someone ELSE'S fire?"

💫What is your favourite fact about this character and why?

That she loves sabotage via explosions and arson, and yet doesn't actually have any spells that would directly enable that, and my mental image is that she just gets really, really excited about spreading, like, blasting powder or lamp oil around and then lighting the fuse and watching from a distance.

[beingatoaster]

For Ryxtlin: 5, 11, 19, 31, and 41; for Fsssh: 1, 8, 12,, 13, and 22; for Fifth Red Petal: 16, 21, 27, 36, and 49; and for Franzka: 7, 15, 23, 37, 40, and 47?

Let’s find out if Tumblr has fixed cuts in asks!

Rxytlin

5. If they had a theme song, what would it be?

There's a couple songs I lean towards for her, but Legendary by Welshly Arms is probably the most encompassing.

11. What was their favourite fairy tale growing up?

I imagine that kobold fairy tales aren't often the same as human ones! That said, I imagine that there is a kobold version of Jack and the Beanstalk, in which a cunning your kobold trades away something precious to the tribe on their behalf for food, gets the beans instead of bread, and then defeats a giant that had been making life miserable for everyone around--thus not only getting new riches with which to feed their tribe, but proving that a kobold can do what the other people around them can't.

19. If they could shop for free at one store, what would it be?

Any magic store, 100%.

31. How would they conquer the Earth?

Step 1: Turn into a dragon....

More seriously, I think she would set up a scam with her friends, once she became a dragon, to have them "save" each successive country or other political power from the dragon, so that they end up with a lot of power in the system. Some of her friends would have to be convinced it was for the greater good, of course.

41. What is the dumbest way they’ve ever been injured?

Listen, combining Jump and Featherfall was a good strategic decision for moving quickly, it had nothing to do with creating the illusion of flight for herself, and it's not her fault that she cast Featherfall first and it thus wore off a few seconds earlier than Jump.

---

Fsssh

1. What is a rumor people tell about them?

There seems to be real popular theory that he's hiding something--maybe some kind of disfigurement or damage, maybe something else--under his mask. It's like no one understands the dangers of working with volatile chemicals.

8. If they were given 1000 acres of land with no strings attached, what would they do with it?

It kind of depends on the setting! In both places I've played him, just land, straight-up, would be of very little value at best, and actively toxic at worst. XD But assuming it was Safe land, or in a setting where it wouldn't be dangerous by default... probably sell a big chunk of it, keep like ten acres, and use the income from the rest to build an orphanage. Or maybe keep a little more so the orphanage could have a farm, and hire someone who knows things about farms to run it. With good fortune like that, he'd like to pass it on.

12. What’s a skill or craft they would like to master, but haven’t?

Sewing. Fsssh would be a very, very happy bird if he could make and patch up his own clothes, instead of having to adapt to other people's ill-fitting cast-offs.

13. How did they find out Santa isn’t real?

No one that Fsssh remembers clearly would ever have given him the impression that Santa was real in the first place! But if it happened in a concrete moment, it would be his first winter with the hobgoblin tavernkeeper--maybe one of the other urchins he employed told a tale about some kind of jolly gift-giver, and Luggub overheard, and spat, and kicked the tale-teller for telling "foolish stories," and then mocked Fsssh and anyone else listening for paying attention to it.

22. If they were given a one minute ad slot during the Super Bowl that they couldn’t sell, what would they fill it with?

A seminar on proper safety procedures with unknown substances would probably be of the most public use!

---

Fifth Red Petal

16. If they were arrested with no explanation, what would their friends and family think they had done?

She almost definitely popped off and clocked someone who was being perfectly law-abiding, by local laws, for doing something that she personally considered reprehensible. The only reason for the "almost" is that, while she tries to be careful about it, there's also the chance that she did something illegal by the local laws by accident.

21. If they had to bury treasure, how would they hide it?

Consigning things to the ocean is usually pretty reliable! Especially when you're a paladin of "earth, sea, and sky," and the sea is the most capable of both holding a heavy treasure and moving it on its own. Trust it to the sea, and hopefully the sea will carry it away again if it comes too close to being found.

27. What makes a person beautiful to them?

All people are beautiful in some way or another. Fifth Red Petal genuinely believes this, and it's part of her spiritual practice that she looks for the beauty even in people to whom her first response is revulsion.

She's also demi, so in the more physical and practical sense, by the time she's come to trust and care for someone enough to be interested in them, they're already beautiful to her in their own way. Since she's a suspicious person by nature (something that doesn't come up a ton in what I've written for her because I've mostly written at points in the timeline where she already knows and trusts Bloom and Housin), developing that trust is a big thing for her. So, loyalty and trustworthiness.

But also, in the non-spiritual, non-sexual sense: everyone is most beautiful when they care about something deeply, and are expressing that.

36. Do they believe things happen for a reason?

The important things, at times. The divinity she serves is all around, after all, and can affect things in many ways to steer the course of events. Then again, her faith involves a strong belief in free will--so the power she serves may open doors, but they never force her through them.

49. What’s their ideal temperature and weather?

Very warm (probably in the 80's), sunny with few clouds and medium-low, and breezy. That's basically her island, most of the year, except for the humidity, which is usually quite high on the island and also why she wants the breeze. ---

Franzka

7. Are they more of a leader or a follower?

More of a follower! She's actually been more forceful with her group lately than would suggest it, but in every case she considers herself to have been following instructions from someone who, to be blunt, she respects the authority of more than them--at one point they were working for the leader of her temple, in which case, obviously, but more recently she got very tetchy about everyone following the directions given by someone very familiar with the very dangerous sewers they're in, because none of them have ever been in it before. She's quirky and eccentric, but not as rebellious as her deviations from the norm suggest.

15. Do they believe in getting revenge on those who wrong them? If so, how do they go about it?

For Franzka, revenge is a "nice to have," but far from a necessity. If she has a chance to get some of her own back from someone who made her life difficult, without putting herself in any danger, she'll take it. But if she has to go out of her way, or spend significant resources or effort, or run a risk to do it--nope, at that point it's just not worth it. Besides, they do say that living well is the best revenge.

23. What’s the most important object they own?

Her wedding ring, which she still wears when in civilian clothing, and wears around her neck under everything when she armors up for adventuring and combat.

37. What do they think is a conspiracy?

There are! So many! Conspiracies out there! (Franzka's always been a little bit of a paranoid on this point, and having there be actual conspiracies in-game is not helping.) But the biggest one is the sky, which is absolutely pulling the wool over everyone's eyes re: its degree of harmlessness. The sky causes so much trouble, people, why does no one understand that?

(She's aware enough that the surface-dwellers she lives among find this laughable at best that she hasn't pulled it out yet in-game, but if she gets to talking about the sky specifically, ever, or discussing surface living with someone else whose culture has the good sense to live underground... well, I'm looking forward to pulling that out.)

40. What’s a superstition they believe in?

It's bad luck to crack or break a gem--in this setting, all gnomes have a gemstone somewhere in their body, and if it's destroyed, even if by a wound that would otherwise would be survivable, the gnome dies. So I imagine Franzka's people having a superstition that damaging a gem (not by cutting and polishing it, obviously, but, like, damage that makes it non-decorative and non-functional) is an omen of misfortune.

47. If they could start a charity what would it be for?

Housing for the homeless. This isn't religious or cultural or anything, she just personally, as someone who has always been lucky enough to have a roof over her head when she wanted it even when her job involved traveling, thinks it's horrible that there are people out there who don't.

[beingatoaster]

Yildgrunn: 🐇, 🔥, 🐝; Ryxtlin: 📚, 💳, 🃏; Vasuvinti: 💅, ⛄, 🍑; Phyrea: 🔫, 🌹, 💉; Housin: 🎲, 🍰, ⏳; Rudnik: 🎉, 🌙, 🙁

Under the cut!

Yildgrunn

🐇 What animal would they say best represents them?

She'd say it was the noble badger: mighty, warlike, and determined to persevere!

(Dwarves tend to, for obvious reasons, subconsciously limit their heraldic symbols and fursonas to burrowing creatures. The badger is basically the dwarven heraldic equivalent of the lion.)

🔥 What’s their favorite candle scent?

She really likes woody scents, but also has a soft spot for jasmine.

🐝 What stereotypical high school clique would they fit into?

The jocks, but definitely the girl jocks--the girls who played soccer and basketball and hung out with the cheerleaders, but got away with being not quite as femme as they were because they Did Sports. (I don't know how stereotypical this is, but that was a definite actual clique in my high school.) Though she wasn't one of the really popular kids, she was one of the ones who hung on the edges but was permitted because they were on the team together.

---

Ryxtlin

📚 If they were the protagonist in any book series, what series would they choose? Alternatively: what would be their favorite book?

This is hard! My immediate instinct is actually to say the Harry Potter series, because she'd like being allowed into a wizard school and basically being The Chosen One, but I think she'd chafe at the institution of Hogwarts and the whole thing where Harry's status and power come from his parents. I wish I remembered the Percy Jackson series better, because if I am remembering it correctly, they beat out arrogant opponents by working semi-outside the system, and she'd definitely go for that.

Or, to go non-fantasy, I think she'd really enjoy being Miles Vorkosigan. Underestimated and derided for his physical abilities, but smart and capable enough to run rings around his opponents, and always coming out better at the end than he started with.

💳 What one thing that they don’t need do they waste the most money on?

Fancy wizard-looking clothes! Depending on how we define "need," anyway, because Ryxtlin's reasoning is that she has enough of a disadvantage in being taken seriously that she needs to wear the fancy wizard outfits to balance that out. If we're talking something that even Ryxtlin admits she doesn't need, it's probably either tasty snacks or decorative trinkets.

🃏 If you had to choose one tarot card to represent them, what would it be?

The Chariot! Going by my tarot book, both the upright and reversed meanings fit well for her.

---

Vasuvinti

💅 What are some things they have strong opinions about?

Pretty much all of her opinions are strong opinions! Vaz doesn't believe in being lukewarm about something. But she feels very strongly about fair competition (if you don't make sure the playing field is level, there's no pride in having won!), acting compassionately towards others (indifference and cruelty corrode the soul and cause you to dissociate from your inner self), and stretching routines (they're not just vital, if you do them right, they're fun!).

⛄ What’s their favorite season and why?

Summer! She feel obliged to like it best, since "summer's child" was one of her nicknames as a child, but she also really likes the heat.

🍑 Which emoji would they use the most?

🌞 (why post a mere smiling face when you could smile with the sun's enthusiasm?)

---

Phyrea

🔫 What would they die for? Kill for?

Phyrea would die for Tiaathque or any of her family, easily. She'd also die, in general, to protect an innocent. Overall, though, she's of the "I would die for this, but I'd rather make you die for it" school of handling villany, so she'd kill for all of the above and more! She's actually very cavalier about killing anyone she sees as having bought too deeply into the Bad Systems she's trying to overturn and uproot, in part because she's very bad at articulately talking them around.

🌹  What songs remind you of them?

Burn It Down, by Vixy & Tony, is a ship song for her and Tiaathque for me, but it's very much Phyrea's attitude and voice speaking throughout.

💉 Which Deadly Sin do they most correspond to? Which Heavenly Virtue?

Pride (with a definite side-helping of Wrath) and Courage.

---

Housin

🎲 Do they have any vices?

Housin is one of those people who, asked to name their flaws, would provide you with a list that looks suspiciously like "has actual human emotions when they think they shouldn't," but as for actual vices.... She's not supposed to take intoxicants, since they interfere with her faculties, but she's had to get tipsy "to successfully accomplish the task" a lot more than is really reasonable. And there's the whole... coldly assassinating people thing. Also, she gives in a lot to anger, since she's successfully pretzel-twisted herself into believing that any deep desire to do harm to someone is borne from logical grounds and a sense of righteous justice, given that she, supposedly, doesn't feel anger.

🍰 What’s their favorite food?

Raisins. Or grapes. Or anything derived from grapes (when the mission requires her to drink, it's funny how it usually requires her to drink wine). But raisins are the most common and "permitted" treat.

⏳ How do they feel about death?

It's a natural part of life! Given that she's a former gladiator and a part-time assassin for her monastery, Housin doesn't feel a lot of weight around it. She's supposed to--the theory of her monastic training is that she judges the impact of each death around her carefully, and kills with the understanding of its import--but she's already fucked up enough about emotions that she never was able to really pick up on that and internalize it properly.

---

Rudnik

🎉 Do they celebrate any holidays? How do they celebrate?

Back home, Rudnik celebrated all the traditional dwarven holidays--the Feast of Smiths, Silvernight, the Deep War anniversaries, and so on--but they're mostly social holidays, and he doesn't have the social structure for them as an adventurer. Also, a lot of the religious ones, he doesn't feel right participating in anymore with his warlock connections. A few of the rest, mostly the solemn memorials, he tries to honor quietly on his own in some small way or another.

And once he's in a party, he definitely finds or makes everyone Silvernight gifts, even if the rest of them don't recognize the holiday.

🌙 Which D&D class would they play as?

He'd play as a fighter. Solid, sturdy, able to protect the group and take the big hits without going down, with a purely physical approach to obstacles. Not a self-insert, but definitely some wish-fulfillment going on.

🙁 What do they consider to be their worst quality? What actually is their worst quality?

He would consider his worst quality to be his cowardice--he's afraid of his patron, he's afraid of his own priests and society, he's afraid of the awful thing he's committed to fight. His actual worst quality is probably his behavior towards those he thinks of as his lessers, which includes his unthinking bigotry, his snap judgements based on appearance, and his overall rudeness to people he finds, based on those judgements and presumptions, wanting.

[beingatoaster]

For Ryxtlin: 1, 16, 31, and 72; for Hester: 29, 48, and 60; for Krue: 19, 20, 32, and 58; and for Tiaathque: 36, 53, 54, and 86?

I also finished these answers today and I’m not sure how it happened, but I’m not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth….

Ryxtlin

If your character wasn’t an adventurer, what livelihood would they lead?

Going by the tools she’s proficient in and the needs of her tribe, she’d be a potter. It was the craft she was trained in, and she was actually good at it; she could make very nice designs with the simple materials and glazes they had on hand, and she liked experimenting with glazing techniques. So if she’d stayed with the tribe, that would have been her primary role, though in her tribe everyone does a little bit of everything.

Which means she had basic jeweler’s skills early on, but kobolds don’t have the infrastructure and materials to create really fancy pieces (her tribe worked mostly in copper and tin, with what gems they were able to mine and cut themselves, and her training was as much gemcutting as actual jewelry-making); she taught herself some fancier metals and techniques, by secret observation and experimentation, after she left the tribe and stole some fancy jeweler’s tools from an artisan she spied on. So if somehow she’d been forced to give up on being a lizard wizard, she might have turned to that to support herself.

16. If your character wasn’t whatever class they are, what would they be instead?

Scout rogue! Dex is actually her highest stat, and one of the non-crafter duties that she shared in her tribe was being a scout for the tribe (which pretty much all young adults were at some time or another). She’s always had a thieving soul, and she’d love to learn how to use lockpicks as-is, so if her life had gone down another path that also led her to adventuring, she almost certainly would have gone rogue.

31. What stereotypical group role does your character play in the party? (The Mom, the Mess, the Comic Relief, etc. Optionally: What role would your character play in the “Five Man Band” structure?)

Corric’s crew doesn’t map real well to the Five Man Band structure, honestly, but in a group that did, Ryxtlin would be either the Smart Guy or the Lancer depending on whether someone else fit one of those roles better.

More generally… she’s the Guest Appearance member (Hendrich is more so, as are other OCs that I imagine Corric’s crew meeting/allying with, but of the core four Ryxtlin is the only one who just leaves the party for long stretches once Corric has roped them all together), at times most of the party reads her as the Back-Stabber/Potential Traitor, and she’s definitely, in that group, the Token Evil Member.

72. Who in the party would your character trust the most to keep an important secret?

Depends on the secret! Counting Corric’s crew as the party, she would trust Brochilde with a Crime Secret (Brochilde is the most understanding about how sometimes you just gotta do a crime), and Rudnik, eventually and grudgingly, with a Magic Secret (Corric would be too likely to share or use it, but Rudnik is even more secretive about magic than wizards, and for what she can reluctantly admit are better reasons). No one gets Personal Secrets until super late in the game, carefully sharing them out and watching for the reaction. Corric doesn’t get any secrets that she isn’t willing for the rest of the party to know, because Corric would share them. Hendrich, who only shows up sometimes, doesn’t get any at all.

Of those not in Corric’s crew, Scrape would get Personal Secrets, Magic Secrets, and most Crime Secrets–just not any Ryxtlin is actually ashamed of, because she knows Brochilde is carrying a Big Crime Shame around and doesn’t have the moral high ground on her, but she actually values Scrape’s opinion of her. Viv would be told Magic Secrets as a matter of course, more than anyone else, because she might use them for the benefit of other kobolds.

—

Hester

…man, I just realized on re-reading Hester’s bio that I originally was gonna make her have the weapon-calling pact, then got caught up on the idea of extra cantrips while doing the mechanics and never went back and changed the fluff. XD;;

29. What are your character’s hobbies and interests outside of their class?

Hester vaguely remembers that she was an artisan, once! Or at least, she assumes she was an artisan. She remembers making chains of braided seaweed and shells, bracelets and anklets and pendants and crowns…. Sometimes she tries to do it with the materials she’s found on land, polished rocks and string and wire, but it never comes out the same. She tries anyway. It’s a learning process.

She hates music, books it right out of there if a visiting entertainer pulls out a drum or lute, but she likes stories. She��ll sit entranced for hours, listening to the legends of the land. And while she doesn’t remember any sea-elf stories in full, and doesn’t like poetry that’s too much like music–no rhythm or rhyme, just flow–she can invent sweeping epics herself, reams of loose verse invented from choppy memory and stories she’s heard and the empty air.

48. What aspect of your character’s future are they most curious about? (If they could know one thing about the future, what would it be?)

She wants to know if everything is worth it. If her patron really means to come through. If, should she finish meeting all its inscrutable demands, it will heal her entirely, make her pain ease and help her block out the relentless sensory and emotional assaults of the world. Because she thinks it might betray her, that it might just be dangling the impossible to pull her strings, but the only reason she’d stop answering to it would be if she knew for absolute certain that it wouldn’t pay off in the end.

60. What decision would the party have to make in order for your character to consider splitting off from the group?

Honestly, they’d be more likely to cut her off if she slid too far into darkness, but…. Given the group that I made her as a back-up character for? If the party decided to try and pull her away from her patron. I could see that lot doing it, tbh, and she wouldn’t stand for it.

—

Kr'AUKtktktktkwer

19. Where in the world does your character most want to visit?

Given that she’s specifically in the Breaking Light world… she doesn’t want to go underground but she does want to meet drow, so somewhere in Fyrsteinn where they live above-ground. And she’d like to see the mountains of Vazlann–she’s seen snow before, but only on the highest peaks, and the idea of it being everywhere is exciting. Also, it would be nice to meet orcs who aren’t super-invested in the duels of the thunder gods.

20. What is the biggest mistake your character has ever made?

Well, if you asked Krue, it would be not realizing how unhappy her sister was, or that she might run off and do Super Dome Shit. If you asked Krac, it would be not supporting her, even emotionally, in her attempts to rebel and find happiness. If you ask anyone else… definitely the time early on in her attendant training when she accidentally dumped an honored elder’s ashes on their grandchildren. The conductor of rites had to improvise real fast to make it seem like that was a New Religious Addition and not an accident.

32. What is your character the most insecure about?

Getting Things Right. Krue wants to do things exactly, precisely, the proper way, and she hates messing up. That goes for rituals, physical tasks, social interactions… she’s super polite and formal because informality leads to the possibility of offense, and so it’s really hard for her to lower her guard and actually chat like a normal person. Even when she does, though, her subjects of conversation often throw others off, so… it’s a lose/lose situation.

58. If somebody (an NPC, someone from their backstory, etc.) your character trusts/loves asked your character to do something against the party’s best interest, who would they side with?

It really depends on who it was, since she has more… fraught feelings about this than she’s willing to say or admit. One of her ideals is ‘blood is thicker than water,’ and if she was asked about her family she’d say that she’s hoping Krac will decide to go along with her family instead of considering any dangerous course she might be upon, in truth Krue would be very torn if she Krac had a convincing story about her reasons–she might actually side with her. As for the elders and her peers and parents, she respects them all intensely, but if she bonded with a party, they also might come first… deep down, she’s very much about individuals over people.

—

Tiaathque

36. What would be your character’s theme song/favorite band/favorite genre of music?

Very soft, light music. She would be all over Enya.

53. What is your character’s favorite spell? If they don’t use spells: what is their favorite personal weapon/combat maneuver/skill/etc.?

Mage Armor is the spell she uses most often, but once she starts getting involved in Phyrea’s peasant-rebellion hobby, and also reaches a high enough level, she becomes very, very fond of Hold Person. Slap it on anyone: the snitch you caught trying to sneak off from the rebel’s meeting, the injured person who can’t seem to hold still long enough to be treated, the constables who showed up with sword in hand to try and put an end to the rousing speech against the local authority. It’s not her chosen school, but it’s one of the few non-Abjuration spells she does regularly prepare, just because it makes so many things so much easier.

Also, combine it with Glyph of Warding and you have the perfect trap for assassins and saboteurs. Tiaathque really wishes she didn’t ever have to worry about assassins, but when she does, it’s a beautiful combo for handling them.

54. How does your character feel about keeping secrets from the rest of the party?

Though I’ve played with the idea of them picking up Hicwynn as a tank, for the most part, “the rest of the party” is Phyrea, and Tiaathque doesn’t keep secrets from her. Not intentionally, anyway, not things that she thinks of as secrets. Sure, she’s reluctant for a long time to tell Phyrea the fully story of her origin, but that’s not really a secret. Nor is it a secret when something is troubling her–she’s just not bothering Phyrea, that’s all. And if it’s something personal, something she treasures or something that’s hurting her or something that she doesn’t want to waste people’s time with, yeah, she’s gonna fold around that thing and lock it down until and unless it comes out on its own and bites her in the ass.

If she was traveling with someone that she thought might not be trustworthy with their secrets, hers and Phyrea’s, especially the fighting-for-liberation stuff, she wouldn’t hesitate to stay mum or lie as needed to keep that knowledge safe. Whether they were good-hearted and loose-lipped, or too certain that authority could be trusted and reasoned with, or outright against the idea of helping people gain their freedom… the reason wouldn’t matter, whether she liked them wouldn’t matter, she’d keep that stuff close to her chest until she trusted them. No regrets.

86. Does your character consider themselves a hero, villain, or something else?

Phyrea considers them heroes. Phyrea is a bundle of good intentions and poor impulse control and can justify any harmful mistake to herself because they meant well. Tiaathque… is much more cognizant of the ripple effects of their actions, and how they can unintentionally do more good than harm. And yet she helps Phyrea anyway, even when she can see it rebounding on people down the road. So no, she doesn’t consider herself a hero, personally. Or even a hero’s sidekick. An enabler of heroic tendencies, that’s probably the best way to look at it.

[beingatoaster]

Character Description Ask - Ryxtlin, Yelkha, Nels, and Hiophis. 1, 3, 9, 14, and 16 - either for all or any combination of your preference!

I’m sorry I took so long to answer this! I answered anything that I hadn’t answered before and was relevant (several of these characters didn’t know their parents due to cultural factors, Nels doesn’t have a best friend, and so on), which means I did at least a couple for each of them.

Ryxtlin

1. Them as a child

She's a quick little brown slip of a hatchling, darting through the doorway before anyone else, in a hurry to get the best seat for their daily lesson. She leans in close to listen to the potter as he demonstrates how to shape the clay, asking why it matters if the clay is too wet or two dry, the first to raise her hand and volunteer when he asks them if he remembers how long a piece should dry before it's ready for the kiln. Later she hangs behind and pesters him with questions: how is the kiln built? why does it have that vent in the bottom? where does he get the wood for it? When he finally sends her off with a growl, she scampers deep into the tunnels, instead of returning to the hatchling cave as she was meant to; the tribe members watching over the hatchlings that day ask where Ryx is, and the others say that she was with the potter still, asking more questions. Sooner or later the potter will go for his supper and they'll realize that she never returned, but for now Ryx is curled up small in a tunnel too narrow for any adult to enter, poring over the little treasures she's hidden there, a broken curve of iron from an old shovel that didn't get scooped back up into the smelter with the rest of it, and a few cracked gems, and now a shard of pottery from a bowl that shattered during firing, still smooth and glazed even though the piece itself is useless as anything but a shiny child's treasure.

9. Their interactions with their best friend

Ryxtlin brings Scrape all the novel things she can find: old swords that she hasn't seen the like of before, unusual foreign weapons made of curved blades and chains, dented armor fastened in a different way than she's seen before. Scrape needs strange things, new things, so that she can add them to her smith's library, the same way Ryxtlin needs new spells for her spellbook, instead of copying Prestidigitation down another twenty times. She always delivers them with a smug grin of satisfaction, and when Scrape seems to pay one piece or another particular attention, or say that she hasn't seen something before, Ryxtlin's chest puffs out with pride.

She finds a warm place to sit in Scrape's workshop, always a little closer to the furnace than Scrape seems to think of as safe, and sits with her legs dangling over the edge of the table or the shelf, kicking idly as she interrogates her: what's she making? is it something she's made before? is she going to sell it or keep it? does she want to make something with that sword-hilt Ryxtlin brought her, the one she said was an unfamiliar design? does she want dinner, and does she want to buy it or for Ryxtlin to swipe it for her? are the smiths here being nice enough to her? did she have a good journey here? where's she going to next, so Ryxtlin can find her again?

14. Them in an uncomfortable outfit

If this is the uniform of this wizard college, Ryxtlin is surprised that it has students at all. She tugs impatiently at the collar of the rough homespun robe, too tight around her neck because the back keeps catching on her spines, and then tugs the slipping skirt up and re-ties the rope that they'd given her for a belt, so she wouldn't trip on it, and then has to roll her sleeves up again because they're coming loose, too, and of *course* their stupid scratchy robes don't come in kobold sizes. Her tail keeps catching, and the bottom part that she's folded up over her belt keeps sliding out of the rope and coming down, and they don't even have hats with the uniform, and- she's very, very glad that she's just pretending to be a student long enough to listen to this one lecture, because she'd never, ever go to college here, just because of the clothes.

---

Yelkha

9. Their interactions with their best friend

Gurgiu is almost as much her child as her friend, but he's a grown bull now, and Yelkha wouldn't try to lean on the habits he had as a calf and thereby insult his pride. She's respectful of that, respectful of him, even when she's asking him to do things he otherwise wouldn't, and that's why he trusts them enough to leap or charge or even hold back his temper when she asks, most of the time. Despite their sometimes quarrels, Yelkha shouting at him in fury or thumping him on the shoulder or flank in her rage, Gurgiu shifting his weight and bucking her off or shouldering her over onto the ground to make a point of not stepping on her as he bolts from an unwelcome demand, there's a steady affection that flows between them. She sprawls over his back to reach down and wrap her arms around his neck or stretch out forward and ruffle the thick hair between his horns, he headbutts her in the chest and then stands over her to lick his face, she grooms him carefully every day to soothe his itches and shed out his coat, he lies down and lets her and her mate shelter against his warm hairy belly when the night is cold. And they fight together, she swinging a hammer or wielding a bow, he charging and goring and trampling the foe, moving together like one creature as they bull their way through battle.

14. Them in an uncomfortable outfit

The shirt is too tight and the skirt is too flimsy--Yelkha had been thinking something like the thick pleated kilts she'd seen on the dwarves around here, not this gauzy thing--and Yelkha keeps picking at both of them, which is going. Badly. The collar of the shirt is already ragged, the top button inadvertently popped off, and the skirt is so thin it tears under her fingers, which Yelkha minds rather more. She's on the verge of just taking the shirt off, whatever the locals have to say about it, and she's just waiting until she finds Bryn again to get out of this skirt. Either into comfortable pants again, or just out of the skirt entirely, is really up to what she can talk Bryn into.

16. Them sleepy

Yelkha is an early riser, and that means she prefers early to bed, too. But Bryn is usually up late, playing for a crowd, and sometimes Yelka stays up for her, sitting slouched and comfortable on a bar stool or bedroll or bed, chin in her hand, stifling one yawn after another until she can't hold them back anymore. She slumps farther and farther as the yawns get bigger, until finally she's just sprawled wherever she's at, half-listening to what's going on around her, thinking contented sleepy thoughts of her pillow. Which is usually the point at which she leaves to find it, because as hard as she tries to stay up, she's just not a night owl.

---

Nels

1. Them as a child

She's a brat. Everyone says it, sometimes with affection, sometimes with dislike. She can't sit still in school for her lessons, doesn't put in the effort to learn and refuses to be helped, asks the teacher why they're bothering with Shakespeare and what good it's going to do her in her life instead of accepting the tutoring she's offered. At home it goes a little better, because her aunts and uncles explain how she can use these skills, tell tales of how they've done it, as they show her how to tinker and how to forge handwriting and how to make herself look just a bit like somebody else. But she'd rather watch than do, rather listen to stories than think them through, and she doesn't ever seem to respond to praise or censure quite like a healthy child should.

3. Their parent(s)

Nels is a Grackle through and through, the same dark skin and ginger-brown hair as the rest of the family, and she looks just like her mother. So much like her that it hurts, her uncle says once and doesn't explain, looking at Nels in her mother's arms and smiling like he's happy and like he wants to cry. Nels' mother is an angel in her eyes, kind and funny and beautiful (she has to be, she looks like Nels, even though her hair has started to go grey and she dies it vivid colors to hide it), and she always has a smile on her face. Even near the end, when she's only wrinkled skin and lesion-riddled bones, she smiles, painfully, for Nels, and holds her hand, like she always had since Nels was a child.

As far as she can tell, patching together her few lingering memories of a pale gnomish man, tall (in her mind's eye, at least; maybe he's tall for a gnome) and stick-thin, with a Roman nose and bushy eyebrows and wild hair the color of the old dirt-streaked, age-worn brick courthouse. She remembers him wearing cordoroy jeans and a button-up shirt and the stupid kind of sweater with patches at the elbows, and a hat that maybe was a beret stuffed down over his flyaway hair. But she doesn't try to remember him often.

14. Them in an uncomfortable outfit

Comfort is secondary to style, which means that you can't show it's uncomfortable by plucking at it or squirming, though after enough drinks, or enough monsters, Nels doesn't hesitate to bitch about it anyway.

16. Them sleepy

A sleepy Nels is a cranky Nels, if she's not allowed to ditch and knock off for the evening. She gets crabby, craving solitude, shying away from touch unless she's decided to annoy someone by draping herself on top of them, eventually trying to back herself into a private room or a corner with something to serve as a social barrier--some food, a drink, something to read or pay attention to, that she can justify ignoring people for--to keep people out of her grill. If they insist on getting in it anyway, she's rude back, making mean comments and jabs and laughing hysterically at deliberately-unkind jokes that no one else thought were funny. Eventually she'll take off no matter how rude it was, lock herself in her room alone, and bar out anyone else who intended to sleep there if the room was shared. You made her stay up when she was tired, so you get to sleep elsewhere.

---

Hiophis

1. Them as a child

Thick Tail was a quiet child, a lazy child, slow to rise and always trying to dodge out of her lessons and bury herself in the mud for a nap. She seemed slow, and sluggish, and all the elders were certain that she'd die, especially as her clutch began to starve. But the ones who ran and played and squabbled for food withered first, and Thick Tail was always there, seizing what she could and then dragging it off to secret away in one of her nap-burrows, curling around it to defend it instead of wasting energy fighting, or sneaking up on another hatchling's stash while they were trying to hunt an extra few bugs or birds to add to it. By the time she'd hit her first shed, she'd grown into her too-thick tail, and the elders knew that she would survive after all.

3. Their parent(s)

Her father wasn't one of the males who stuck around to help raise the nest; her mother could have named him to her, if she'd ever asked, but it was more common than not in the clan for hatchlings to be brought up by their mother and her sisters, and she had no reason to know who had sired her. Her mother was one of the great crafters of the tribe, able to weave reeds into baskets and furniture and mats, and into fancy patterns for the elders and the druids to decorate their home. She'd lost a leg to a crocodile, some years ago, but the wooden peg she wore in place of it served her well enough for the sedentary life she lived now, and she had sisters enough to help her with the parts of raising hatchlings that took more mobility. She was scarred from that same battle, her white eye-markings and bright rust-colored spots slashed and marred, and the druids had tattooed her with the axe-sigil of one of the tribe's ancestral warriors in recognition of her survival, and she always had a stern look on her face when she dealt with her hatchlings.

9. Their interactions with their best friend

When they were younger, hunters together, Hiophis and Alepho had always felt like they were one mind in two bodies. They could look at each other and know just from the look what the other was thinking, could curl up together in a mud wallow and not mind the other shape in their den. Hiophis doesn't know when that began to change; perhaps when Alepho began tutoring as a druid, when she was barred from his presence for months on end. She only knows now that she can't speak to him without arguing, that even when he was engraving the ancestor's tales onto her skin, he was stiff and uncomfortable behind her, as if she was a stranger, as if she had somehow asked too much of him, who she had always thought she could ask for anything.

14. Them in an uncomfortable outfit

In the strange dream that she only vaguely remembers, Hiophis remembers best the drape of cloth over her scales, the unfamiliar rubbing against her shoulders and underarms and legs as she moved, the constraint she'd felt when it had dragged at and slowed her movements. She has no idea why she'd dream it so vividly, when she's refused more than the merest token of clothing since she first discovered people who wore them--but if that's truly what softskin clothing is like, she can't imagine how they haven't long since developed calluses.

16. Them sleepy

She stands and doesn't wobble, because she can't show weakness, but she shifts and stretches and scratches at herself as she feels the exhaustion creeping in. As she carries on with what she's doing, she becomes slower, more lethargic, until eventually she has to find a secluded corner and lie down and do her best to drowse a bit, since she can't really get a proper sleep in dry. Given a wet bed, she settles down into the tub or the mud with a slow blink, squirming only a little to shape the bottom of the wallow to her figure. The water rises around her and she breathes a sigh of relief, though she props her chin up on the edge of the wallow to eye the people around her until she eventually slides backwards, eyes closing, only the tip of her snout showing as she falls at last into comfortable sleep.

[beingatoaster]

“Ryxtlin wouldn’t bother friend, but seems to be... spreading....”

I know October is over, but I still wanted to finish out Inktober! This is for day twenty-nine of this list, so the theme is Wounded (since I swapped their 29 and 31, on the original concept that I’d be wrapping up on Halloween). And although I have a couple variations, I have this rather self-indulgent hurt/comfort scenario wherein Ryxtlin, who usually holes up when sick or injured, instead decides that she trusts @whats-ursine‘s Scrape, a kenku forge cleric, enough to seek her out....

[beingatoaster]

For Tiaathque: 1, 6, 25, and 31; For Hiophis: 4, 7, 13, 35; For Vroskaul: 3, 10, 20, and 28; for Ryxtlin: 9, 15, 24, 26?

Sorry for the long delay on these!

Tiaathque

1. Which should be saved – a bus full of innocent lives or a loved one?

“The bus is the right answer, isn’t it? That’s what I should do. I- I wouldn’t be happy about it, but I think it’s what I would do. All my loved ones, they’d understand. It’s what they’d want too.”

6. If you tell the truth, an evil person gets to walk away free. If you lie, you may be able to send them away like they deserve. Is honesty worth more than justice?

“What did they do? What’s the lie I’d have to tell? Would anyone else be hurt by it? And it’s complicated because I can’t imagine a court that wouldn’t bring a truth spell into it, so it would have to be a lie of omission to keep form being found out. And in a lot of places I’ve read about, if someone is caught lying in court proceedings, it makes their case harder to carry through, so I might just make things worse.

But if I could do it without those consequences, and they were really terrible… I’d tell a lie, to keep people safe from them.”

25. What is more important to you? An idea of yours being used and appreciated or the credit for that idea beings yours and yours alone?

“If I was still in the Tower, I’d want credit… but it doesn’t matter as much out here. I’m not a scholar anymore- I mean, I’m still a scholar, I still study things, but now that I’m doing more with my life than just reading and writing, it matters more that I do it than that people know I do it. Especially if the idea helps other people with their lives.”

31. What is more important to you? Being respected and praised by your elders or being looked up to and championed by those younger or of the same age?

“It, um, depends on the elders? I have a lot of teachers who, if I thought I was disappointing them with my life, it would hurt a lot… but if it’s someone like Headmistress Gennan, I care more about what Phyrea thinks of me than she does. But, um, it also feels really nice when we meet children who look up to me and are excited to see me. If I have to pick one, though, it would be my elders. The elders who matter.”

—

Hiophis

4. You have a secret you swore not to reveal. But this secret is the only thing that would prove your innocence in a separate matter. Is it worth risking your own well-being for the secret? Or would you betray the trust given to you?

“What is the secret? Who trusted me with it, and why? Is the other matter something very hurtful to be accused of, or does it simply make the people who accused me look foolish to believe I have done it? It might be something that makes me seem more fearsome, and if they are foolish, I don’t care if they are afraid of me.

I would keep my tribe’s secrets, my brother’s secrets, and the secrets of those who have proven themselves beside me, no matter what. I will find my own way out of the trouble of being misbelieved. If it is a foolish mammal secret, though, and the accusation is something I would be very ashamed of or that would make my goals impossible, then I would give it up.”

7. You have the key to immortality in your hands. But not for free. If you want it, as a price, your worst enemy also gains immortality. Is it worth it?

“I am not afraid of facing my enemies. I will take immortality, so that I may have hundreds of clutches and fight hundreds of battles, and my tribe will never die. Then I will find my worst enemy and kill them, or if by immortality you mean the power to never die, make them unable to fight, so they can never hurt my hatchlings.”

13. Could you sacrifice yourself for the good of everyone else?

“Who is ‘everyone else’? I would sacrifice myself for my tribe once I have hatchlings that live, but not before, because I don’t know if my tribe will live otherwise. If not for my tribe, then no, I will not.”

35. Is every person in this world wholly unique or can they be categorized? Can they be grouped and mentally dissected? Are you just another sheep in another flock or are you the sole unique soul?

“There are two kinds of people, which are lizardfolk and there is everyone else. Or there are two other kinds, your tribe and everyone else. Or there are three kinds, lizardfolk and trusted non-lizardfolk and everyone else…. You can sort people however you want, and many times it is useful, when you are asking muddy questions like the ones you have asked me. But sometimes the only sorting that is useful is one-by-one, because we are all different in some ways, even from the people in the same sorting.”

—

Vroskaul

3. If you could jump back through time to save a loved one’s life, would you? Despite what it might to do the timeline? To everyone else? Do you believe it is their fate to die regardless?

“My loved ones who have died all have done so in our quarrels with Two Moose. If they had not died, maybe my father and the chief of Two Moose wouldn’t have agreed that they didn’t want more dead children, and then we would keep fighting, and they might just have died later, along with even more of my clan.

Though my eldest brother died when I was so young, I barely remember him, and I didn’t love Hrothga, who was cruel, or truly know Reskarr, who was so hurt by our brother’s death that he ranged far from the tribe and only came home to die. If you talked to the me of that future, who got to know his brothers, he might answer differently.”

10. If a lot of people, possibly innocent people, have to die in order to make a real change, is it worth it? Can you live with their deaths even if it helps people in the present?

“If they’re innocent, then no. I may not have been the first choice for my father’s heir, or the last, but I was his heir long enough to learn that a chief’s job is to protect their people, and find the complicated answer to fix a problem, instead of simply saying that the only way to solve it is to allow harm to be done. If these people’s chiefs can’t find a way to make the change they want without death, then they aren’t fit to be chiefs. Or else the change shouldn’t be made. Who deserves life so much more than these people, that they should die just to help these others? No one does.”

20. Are there people in this world who, no matter how much time and penitence is given, should never be forgiven?

“Yes. There are tales I’ve been told that make me think that if those responsible are truly penitent, they can only have have accepted that they don’t deserve forgiveness. I’ve never met such a person myself, but I count that as good fortune on my part, not a sign that such people don’t exist. When we made peace, we accepted that we had harmed them as deeply as they had harmed us, and there was forgiveness in that, or at least the promise of it. But that was people who had been our enemies. To commit atrocities against those whom you claim to love is the act of a true monster.”

28. How long would you wait for the one you love? A year? Fifteen years? Forever? Could you honestly be loyal to an unfulfilled love?

“She is my wife. My honor comes into it. And my gaze may fall where it may, but thoughts alone are not disloyal. Honor and loyalty are both shown through actions.

I think that’s enough talking.”

—

Ryxtlin

9. Can people be held accountable for things people close or related to them did or are they innocent?

“No! 'Can,’ yes, idiots blame all kobolds for one kobold all the time. But is not all kobolds’ fault! Or all kenku. But if stupid fathead wizard headmaster’s friends also stupid fatheads, probably the reason headmaster so much stupid fathead.”

15. Is lying to others to gain their approval more important than being genuine and hated?

“Depends. Does Ryxtlin need approval? To get spells, food, warm place to sleep? Lie. Honest and dead is stupid. But if they can’t hurt Ryxtlin… nice warm feel when fatheads hate you and can’t do anything.”

24. How do you feel about tears? Are they cowardly and weak? Do you cry? Would you consider that shameful?

“Sometimes Ryxtlin’s eyes leak. Wastes water.”

26. Is your personal happiness more important than anything else in the world? Than fame? Than the happiness of others?

“If Ryxtlin is famous, Ryxtlin is happy. If Ryxtlin’s friends are happy, Ryxtlin is happy. But being dragon is more important. And helps other things. Dragons are famous, and dragons can kill enemies and take treasure for friends.”

[beingatoaster]

6 and 10 for Yelkha, 2 and 16 for Ryxtlin, 4 and 12 for Fsssh, 9 and 13 for Fifth Red Petal, annnnd... 20 for Ye Fire-Happy Warlock Man

Gonna put these under a cut!

Yelkha

6. Their interactions with their children, if they have them

If she interacted with her own children in her tribe, she doesn’t know it. But every so often as she’s tending to the youngest whelps in the pens–leaning over the edge to throw in a mash of meat scraps and stale bread and whatever wilting vegetables the tribe has gotten–she leans a little longer than she needs to, looking. That boy, he’s shorter than all the others his age, and that girl, her shoulders are real wide. Does it mean anything? She looks over her shoulder, just to make sure none of the priestesses are watching, and then tosses a scrap of meat straight to the boy’s feet. He’s got a lot of spirit, she’s seen it, so no matter who whelped him, he’d be useful for the tribe if he lived, she figures. She watches long enough to see him scrabble it up out of the dirt and shove it into his shirt, and then she turns away, deliberately casual, not thinking on it any longer for today.

Later on, with Bryn–with a little raven kenku, or a handful of adopted misfits, or maybe even two stocky half-orc adolescents stolen from the pens–she bends low over their soft little heads and waves a sweetroll, and dares them in a playful growl to take it from her. They tackle her around the knees and butt their heads into her stomach and grab for her elbows and wrists, while she gently fends them off, until someone finally snatches it from her hand. She watches them close as they divide it out, on the ground as if they’d actually been able to drag them there, leaning on one elbow and still absently holding the littlest child away from her with one hand on their forehead as they, giggling, keep trying to headbutt her.

10. Their interactions with an enemy/rival

She comes in with a hammer-blow, clocking them back, and then she drops the hammer and grabs their shirt and backs them up into the nearest flat surface, a wall or a convenient tree or stone, and then she starts to swing bare-fisted. Her eyes are a little wide as she gets into their face, and then they narrow into anger, and if she’s breathing hard it’s fury and exertion and she’ll never admit that her pulse might be racing out of fear. She swings and keeps swinging, knocking their head back with each blow, snarling a war-dirge in time with the rhythm, the hand fisted at their collar shaking, swinging, and swinging, until they go limp and don’t move.

—

Ryxtlin

2. Them several years past their main adventure

There’s a high cliff to leap off of, and a thermal to catch, because it’s a bright, sunny day, and the sun is beating warm and steady on her back. She circles lazily upward, riding the thermal, using it to go higher and higher until she can see the walls of a town in a distance, out past the forested hills and the river running through them. Her sights set that way, she abandons the thermal and begins to fly in earnest, the big long slow wingbeats that it took her a while to learn to do, less agile but more efficient than constant flapping. As she passes over a small town, her shadow gliding across the ground and falling over the little thatched houses, children shout and point and parents look up at her with worried eyes; she snickers, a little flame flickering around her mouth just to give her a scare, but no one there’s ever offended her, that she remembers. Instead she makes for the town, settling almost delicately onto the wall along the artisan district, her horned head stretching out and down to study the sign of a blacksmith’s shop near to the wall.

16. Them sleepy

She’s curled up with her feet tucked under her robe on a chair too big for her, at a table also a little too high, so that she has to wedge her chin against it to get a good look at the spellbook she’s copying. Her own spellbook is in her lap, and it keeps nearly sliding out of her hand whenever she stops scribbling in it and lifts her hand to turn the other book’s page. She’s grumbling under her breath, incomprehensibly–not even in Draconic, just little “grr grr grr"s of discontent, interrupted every so often by a toothy yawn. She blinks away sleep, and she’d be tearfully frustrated if this spellbook was just a little more difficult, but this wizard believed in the importance of illustrations, which is what makes her certain that she can get this spell down if she just stays awake a little longer. She rubs her eyes, catches her sliding book, leaks ink on her robe as her pen stutters and doesn’t even notice it, and turns another page.

—

Fsssh

4. Their laugh

All his laughter is borrowed, of course, but some of it he uses so regularly as to be almost unconscious. There’s the long rattle of an actual rook, like a stick rattling over rough cobblestones; that one isn’t laughter at all, but if he uses it in the right places, it seems just enough like it that people who think it’s funny that he’s like a bird are pleased that he thinks they’re funny too. There’s the high goblin cackle that he borrowed from- he can’t remember who, actually, one of the first lab goblins he met, before he found out how quickly they came and went. It’s both laugh-like enough and bird-like enough to put the more nervous and ignorant sorts of mammalian people at ease, and he uses it when he wants to be reassuring. Then there’s the hobgoblin laugh, deep and hollow and bitter, that he got from his master at the tavern. It’s an unnerving one for a lot of people, a reminder that he’s imitating every sound he makes, because a laugh that deep and echoing shouldn’t come from a bird’s throat or a bird’s beak, because sometimes the only way to cut off a joke he doesn’t want to hear is to make the comedian a little uncomfortable.

(And if it’s a good joke, he heard a victorious trill on a flute once that serves very nicely as appreciative applause.)

12. Them in their favorite outfit

The clothing most folk use is a bit confining for birds, even if they don’t have wings to worry about, and Fsssh has never been lucky enough to be in a position to source clothing actually designed for his kind. But there’s a particular type of robe he likes, open in the front so he can wear it as loose or tight as he wants, with big wide sleeves that leave plenty of room for his arm feathers, made of soft cloth that’s gentle on his feathers, tied closed with more cloth instead of buckled like a belt…. Fsssh is aware that this is an accessory to bathing rituals for the mammal-types, but for him, it’s just comfortable clothes. Throw a smock underneath and you’re only short some gloves and a mask for safely doing some alchemy, too, since it’s always a plus to be able to get out of things quickly if you spill the wrong stuff on them.

—

Fifth Red Petal

9. Their interactions with their best friend

Fifth Red Petal has never been able to point to just one person and say that’s her best friend. She’s always had a small handful of people she’s close to, a handful that grows just a little faster than it shrinks, since it’s not often that she forms new bonds, but once they’re forged they’re rarely broken by anything but great change or death. But with them she’s open, honest, speaking freely with them if they’re a friend from the island, as emotive as she can be with those she’s made on the mainland. She’s discreet by nature, keeping their secrets to herself, trusting her to keep her own, careful never to overshare with someone who isn’t in a good place to bear her burdens, but that doesn’t keep her from leaning in close, making jokes, deliberately tripping over her own tail to get a laugh from those she must be silent with; she’ll keep an eye out for things they’ll like, touch their hand or whisper their name to get their attention and point them to it, push them towards things they want instead of taking point and getting it for them. She’s always touching them, casually and affectionately, unless they express a dislike for it that she tries to respect.

13. Them in formalwear

The whole concept of formalwear is a little foreign to Fifth Red Petal. They have ceremonies and special events on the island, of course, religious rituals and festivals, greetings for new children and goodbyes for old friends, and you dress for all of them, but you dress the way you feel–no one has more than a couple pieces of clothing, just enough of a range to wear weather-appropriate and task-appropriate things, and so ‘dressing up’ is more in how you decorate. She’s never been much for jewelry, but she has a few accessories friends have made for her that have personal significance because of it, and there’s a lot of accessorizing with what’s available in nature. So formalwear at home is the bough of a flowering tree tucked into the shoulder of her armor when greeting a newborn, or a band of shells around her arm at a ritual honoring the sea.

She… doesn’t see much reason to change that on the mainland, though she knows it’s not what’s culturally acceptable here. She’s steadfast in her determination to wear what she thinks is appropriate–really, she thinks, for someone in her position, armor decorated with seasonal plants should be appropriate to any formal occasion, since it shows very clearly who she is and what she’s there to represent. But she’s a lot stiffer on these occasions, because she knows she’s starting off with a foot wrong, and if someone gives her something simple and culturally sensitive she can add to it (hold her holy symbol front and center so people write it off as her sect’s weirdness, cover her hair to show solemnity at a funeral, etc.), she will take their suggestion gladly and with relief.

—

Naal

18. Them eating (I rolled a d20 for this!)

It’s really not a surprise, when he’s so thin, spindly hands and sunken cheeks and ribs and collarbone showing too clearly through his skin, that Naal eats like a starving man. Or more like a starving child, if we’re being honest; there’s a part of him that’s still and always six years old and hasn’t eaten for days. He does his best to make up for it, these days, and if he’s come upon a windfall or fallen in with anyone with a drop of sympathy he’s allowed to, second helpings of stew and extra piles of sweetrolls and an extra loaf of bread tucked into his pocket for a midmorning snack on the road. He still eats hunched over his food, watching with wary eyes as if he expects anyone coming close to try to take it (or to knock it out of his hands, spill it into the filth of the floor while he’s scolded at length for eating so much when he doesn’t do a damn thing to help out his father), and it never seems to fill out his near-skeletal frame no matter how much he devours. It’s like the food burns away when he eats it, curling into smoke before it can ever stick to his ribs.

Probably he just has one of those super-fast elfy metabolisms.