Kharris
(& Khaeris) @kharrisdawndancer - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
Kharris
(& Khaeris)
@kharrisdawndancer
((This is an inspiration board for my characters "Kharris" & "Khaeris" on WoW's WrA server. Face claim: Deepika Padukone Look in the "Tags" menu to see posts specific to alts. So many alts also live here. Character mini profiles My Art My personal Tumblr is http://jennmcstuff.tumblr.com/ ))
Send ‘!!’ and I’ll write a para description of your muse from mine’s perspective, including:
Their looks, their personality, and who they are to my muse + Etc!
___
Pyraelia & Mesandrèaux
Mesandrèaux was kind. And a little awkward. Pyraelia wasn't sure how much of the latter was the language barrier and trying to find her way in a different elven kingdom that was so different, but still much the same, from Suramar.
Her own family had never been religious. Arcane was less fallible than gods and goddesses. Her pilgrimage seemed to make her happy, though, even if it had been stymied by the unrest. It was probably nice to see so many new things, and experience so many new people.
Was it strange, at all, to be dark haired among the shining silvers and pastels? Pyraelia, and Fiorenze, had grown up brunette in a sea of platinum and strawberry blondes. At least now, well outside of the Court of Nobles, things were a bit more diverse.
It would have been nice to be better friends, but that seemed so beyond reach now. Between the interruption from the Terrace, Dawnwell and general chaos and whatever Pyraelia had done to upset Keyalin, the gulf seemed too wide to bridge. It wouldn't do well to push in and potentially cause more problems.
Send ‘!!’ and I’ll write a para description of your muse from mine’s perspective
Tinnaire and Laeynna
Hello, little friend.
She'd thought it as she was sizing up a flowerbed of stone and dirt that she'd put outside on the front steps leading to the apartment. In the collective of talandra roses that was growing upward, she'd found a unicorn beetle. Tinnaire could probably tell her a lot about them. The most Laeynna knew was that she thought they were pretty darn cute.
Most beetles were. Most bugs were, in fact.
As she sat down to observe it waddle along, she admired in quiet and her thoughts turned onto the woman with the hair like it had been kissed by the very sun. Tinnaire, Tinnaire, Tinnaire. That sure was a name. Sometimes thinking of her filled Laeynna with dread. Sometimes it filled her with anger. Sometimes it filled her with something very sombre and wistful.
It was a strange thing. Things could have been different. Should have been. Laeynna hated that they weren't. She also hated that she couldn't just fix it and it had taken a lot of time for her to understand and accept that it wasn't her situation to fix. She had been nothing more than an innocent bystander pulled into a situation she didn't ask to be involved in and was blindsided. And afraid of the consequences of it she had offered multiple times to step aside, only to be met with reassurance that... probably came with the best of intentions but was mostly untrue.
It was really hard not to feel betrayed and lied to, though there was no actual betrayal or lying that had occurred. Only a withholding of information and an inability to predict the future.
Tinnaire, she thought, was a woman of contradictions. Laeynna always tried to be thoughtful and polite. Tried to be conscientious and considerate and kind. And once, she'd been told that in order for the relationship she now found herself tied in most seriously to be celebrated, Tinnaire needed to see it. So Laeynna had been brave and tried to be more in the public eye. Except then came the commentary within earshot. Then came the looks.
Not once. Not twice. Three times. Over the course of one year and then some. Three separate occasions. And Laeynna gave up. The message was well received. She wasn't welcome in public galas and soirees with him. They could go separately, probably, but that defeated the point. They could go and stand on opposite sides of a room, but that also defeated the point.
It felt like Tinnaire set her up to fail on purpose.
It was aggravating. Laeynna liked her. As Laeynna got to know her more, Tinnaire made her think of Alcilia, who had been so formative to her adolescence and many of the things that she liked. Sure, she'd idolised her father, but it had been Alcilia that really got Laeynna into plants and flowers, bugs and spiders, and so much of the natural world.
Laeynna set her jaw a little. She liked Tinnaire so much. Loved her free spirit. Loved that she liked things that other people might have found strange. Knew they had so much in common. That they were accustomed to being misunderstood by many around them. That neither of them really fit into the moulds that had been set for them by older traditional standards.
She didn't like being angry. She didn't like what it did to her. She didn't like how it impacted her. She wanted things to be different. Didn't know how to make things be different. Definitely couldn't force things to be different and she was never going to ask or expect Tinnaire to change how she felt about anything or what she wanted. People didn't work like that and Tinnaire deserved that respect and consideration.
She could have asked, but Tinnaire was contradictory and gave mixed messages and Laeynna couldn't determine what was the truth and what was a lie. Would she just get trapped again? She didn't want that. She didn't want to keep trying only for it to proverbially get thrown back in her face.
She just wished she knew what the secret criteria was, because clearly she hadn't hit it yet. Kindness, consideration, being polite, being amicable, none of those things had seemed to work. Maybe there wasn't anything she could do. Maybe nothing Laeynna would do would ever be good enough for Tinnaire.
The botanist's expression twisted up a bit. She didn't like thinking like that either. As she eyed the cute little unicorn beetle as it moved along across the soil of the flower bed, she knew there was still a little hope remaining in her heart. She wanted them to look at flowers together. She wanted Tinnaire to share more of her taxidermy with her. She wanted to learn what Tinnaire knew about bugs. She just wanted them to spend time together. To get to know one another without being coloured by things that were out of their control. They deserved that, she thought. Even when it felt like everything was against her, she didn't want to give up.
How much did she really believe in surrender, anyway?
~Sign-ups will be open DAY OF!
~You MUST be present at time of raffle drawing to win!
~Raffles are drawn Friday and Saturday AFTER performances at the main stage!
Send ‘!!’ and I’ll write a para description of your muse from mine’s perspective
Braedyn & Laeynna
As Laeynna leaned onto the counter and looked between the recipe for umbernut cake next to the bowl that she had mixed in the required ingredients, her nose scrunched right up. She was pretty sure whatever she made was definitely not the way it was supposed to be.
How the hell did Braedyn make things so flawlessly?
Practise, probably. As Laeynna sank down onto an elbow, she cradled her chin in the palm of her hand, gaze drifting absentmindedly. She had been baking for years, but had she always baked? Laeynna didn't know. She didn't ask, but it occurred to her that she felt like she hadn't taken more initiative in asking more. What did she really know about the proprietess of the Fancy Cakes Bakery?
She was married. Her husband's name was... Fortune, right? And she had kids. How many, though... Two? She was almost certain she'd asked about that. She sometimes blushed that soft pink that kissed her cheeks and when she did, it was extremely endearing. She hadn't ever dyed her hair, which she had recently learnt. But she didn't need to. It would have been difficult to picture her without that bright blonde hair.
Had Braedyn ever thought about doing something other than baking? Maybe it had been her life's passion and dream. Not very many people were able to follow that or to obtain it, but Braedyn seemed happy. She was good with people, Laeynna realised, but that probably came with running her own business and being the face of it. Sometimes people who weren't good with people or particularly sociable were still put in places like that out of necessity.
She worried sometimes that Braedyn didn't get enough conversation that wasn't on a professional level. Would she be receptive if Laeynna visited her during the week just to stop by for conversation that wasn't completely business-related? Would she be too busy for that kind of thing? Running a business, running a household... It was probably a lot. Maybe she didn't have time for that kind of thing.
The only way to know for sure, however, was to ask. There was no harm in it. Laeynna's expression grew firm. No. She would ask at the next open house if Braeydn would be open to some visiting time together. No bakery talk. No cake talk. No admitting that she completely was botching the umbernut cake mixture currently sitting on the counter.
She just wanted to make Braedyn the focus. And maybe learn a little more about her.
Our annual Fire Festival is back! Come and join us for our Chillin & Grillin BBQ on Thursday, before the Festival opens on Friday & Saturday!
WHEN: Thursday, June 18th - Saturday, June 20th
WHERE: Mar'at, Uldum
!! THIS IS HOSTED ON WYRMREST ACCORD !!
ANCHORS:
Horde: TBD
Alliance: TBD
🍖🍹THURSDAY EVENTS🍹🍖 (Begins at 6pm WrA/PT - 8pm MG):
Chillin' & Grillin' BBQ Social
This is a laid-back 'calm before the fire storm' event, there will be NO vendors, performances, or raffles today, but there will be A LOT of food, drink, swimming, dancing, and general fun! BBQ provided, bring a side/dessert/drink to share!
🏳️🌈FRIDAY EVENTS🏳️🌈 (Begins at 5pm WrA/PT - 7pm MG):
Vendors, performances, raffles, Pride party, and camping!
🔥SATURDAY EVENTS🔥 (Begins at 4pm WrA/PT - 6pm MG):
Vendors, performances, raffles, fireworks, and the Heat Rave 'til the sun comes up!
For more information, please check out our website: FireFest.crd.co
Or our Discord link: tinyurl.com/TartFireFestServer
Send ‘!!’ and I’ll write a para description of your muse from mine’s perspective
Mesandrèaux and Marint!
He was fairly certain he could do some, at the very least, vague sketches from memory.
Marint certainly had looked at her face long enough and often enough to have the idea of it in head. Part of him was amused that she humoured him. At least, she seemed inclined to. He couldn't even say when he'd begun to think on that project of his. That collection of moments frozen in the stones of time that would convey thought and emotion alike. He just knew when he was considering concepts and ideas he wanted to portray that Mesandrèaux would be perfect for it.
She didn't see what he did. Not at all. Didn't know she was beautiful. Didn't know she was charming. How had no one ever told her these things before? He had joked and said it was because they must have found her intimidating, but... She wasn't. At least, he didn't think so. She was so easy to speak with. So easy to spend time with.
Mesandrèaux always seemed to ask him a lot about himself. He never knew if that was a good thing or not. Could have simply been her curiosity. He suspected it was really that. People in the past had expressed such things, but considering the lines of work he was in, he'd never known if they just wanted information or if they were genuinely interested in him. In how he thought. In how he felt. In how he perceived the world. He thought Mesandrèaux was genuinely interested in him and that was a nice feeling.
As he sketched, thoughts of her swam about his head. Sharp features. Wide glowing eyes. Dark hair. Dark skin. She had said that she didn't think she was particularly pretty based on those features. Marint wanted to know who'd given her such an idea, so he could give them a solid right hook in the face. She didn't seem to think much of herself at all. Maybe a result of being so sheltered. That humble demeanour of hers was charming. As much as it was when she seemed completely befuddled by the idea that he was interested in her. As much as it was when she softly blushed that shade of violet each time he said something kind to her.
She must have thought him full of so much flattery. That wasn't the absence of truth, however. Flattery could be honest. When he gave it, it usually was. He didn't think himself the kind to flatter for no reason at all. If he'd been a more terrible man, he supposed he could have done that with purely the intentions of capturing the Moon Maiden's heart, but he didn't work like that. Mesandrèaux had no reason to believe it, though. She was right to be wary. Uncertain.
If she was to give him any of her time, Marint wanted to earn it. He wanted to be worthy of it. He wanted to bask in it, as if her time and any sliver of potential affection was moonlight. And of course, anything she did give him had to be of sound integrity. There had to be trust.
She made him more nervous than she knew. Marint wasn't an easy guy to do that to either. He could talk to people without breaking a sweat. He could even cunningly threaten in the most gentle way without ever shifting from that facade he sometimes had to play. He was a fairly calm, composed, level-headed man when it came to some of the work he did. He didn't worry about keeping his hands clean for he had clear lines there. And yet he worried a little when it came to Mesandrèaux.
Worried she'd get hurt. That he wouldn't be able to protect her the way he wanted to. Worried she wouldn't want him to protect her. Worried she'd think he wanted anything of her that she couldn't give. He liked her, of course. Was fond of her, without doubt. But he prioritised what she wanted above all else. As he had reassured her, his respect for her wouldn't change. It wouldn't shift. He would still see her the same way.
A curious young woman who spent so long sheltered that she viewed the world with no shortage of interest and fascination. She worried over how others perceived her. Worried that her habits others would find off-putting. Worried that she lacked the social grace she wanted to have. She worried so much.
It was likely that Mesandrèaux would never see the version of her that he saw. She didn't realise how perfect she was for that idea. Reverence. He revered her, in his own way. A gentle sort of fashion that was inconspicuous. That wasn't what made him think it, though. It was the way she looked at certain things. Statutes. The sky. The way he thought she saw things that no one else could.
She didn't know that she had reverence in those eyes of hers.
Send ‘!!’ and I’ll write a para description of your muse from mine’s perspective, including:
Their looks, their personality, and who they are to my muse, + Etc!
___
Braedyn & Andaeros @andaerosdawnflare
Braedyn picked up the plate with donut icing on it and knew who had sent it back to the wash basin. Andaeros liked to activate the enchantment early. None of the other dishes were back yet. She washed it and wondered if he felt when the runic tattoos lit up, or if it was more like blood through a vein, passive and natural? The tattoos had certainly drawn her eyes more than once. Their history and function both were fascinating to her. She envied his use of magic, like she envied so many in Silvermoon.
The Spellbreaker's fitness had been noted several times. He took care of himself and kept up. How had that been when he was a bodyguard for his cousin Feywren? Long hours shadowing the heiress must not have left much time for working out or training, surely? But he boxed, and he'd taught her some.
Braedyn paused, thinking on all the years they'd known one another. Once, she'd thought them friends, or at least on her glacial path to be friends, but that had been set correct in front of her and she had not forgotten it since. It still stung a little, or rather embarrassed her, which was unpleasant and irritated her. Friendly. As any businesswoman should be with a regular customer she enjoyed. She still had a fondness, and she would still take him up on the boxing lessons, but she was more careful with how she thought of their relationship now, recognizing it as more transactional on his side of the ring.
She dried the dish and put it back in its place on the shelf.
I never saw that you reblogged this one, so I'm gonna ask now. Apologies for my lateness: 26. What makes a character "ping" for you?
I am not 100% was "ping" means in this context... But I am going to assume it means get you excited and thinking about them.
Generally, I form a kernel of an idea of the character, and throw them out there. Interaction with other people is what makes a character feel good and vital to me. Some of my long-time characters have backstories and the basics of personality, but very little motivating me to play or explore them at the moment (eg; Adastrea).
Send ‘!!’ and I’ll write a para description of your muse from mine’s perspective, including:
Their looks, their personality, and who they are to my muse, + Etc!
____
Mesandrèaux & Keyalin @keyalinvendel
She closed the book. She left it laying on her chest as she lay in bed, well into the morning. She should have gone to sleep hours ago. She'd had to finish it; just one more chapter had turned into the story's climax, and then on to the epilogue. Messy looked over at her nightstand where her electronic communicator rested and contemplated messaging to ask if he was available to loan her book number two in the series this evening.
Then she thought that perhaps she should just go buy the series herself and not bother him. Maybe it was irritating to loan his personal copies--he'd just finished rereading them himself. Was it too forward or too familiar to borrow something beloved from a relatively new friend? It was an imposition. Probably. Maybe? Should she even ask him to borrow the book?
She carefully set the finished novel on the nightstand and did not pick up the communicator. She spelled off the arcane lamp, but the darkness in her room didn't clear his face from her mind. Even in her own mind she couldn't definitively tell if the expression on his intelligent, kind face was reluctance or simple shyness. She could see his short sandy blonde hair and his slight squint as he thought through whatever was being discussed. She could see the way he tended to look down or away, and how heavy gazes seem to rest on him. She could hear him telling her "Yes, I'll go with you," though that have been all in text--still she heard it in his voice. She saw his mouth scrunch a little at the noise and flashing lights.
She smiled gently to herself, remembering how carefully he'd handed her the ear plugs, how steady his hands seemed when he was doing something useful. He spoke about repairing things like it was inevitable to be his responsibility, without rancor, but not always with enthusiasm, either. She could understand that.
She closed her eyes, and rested with her decision made, though it made her a little nervous, but not in a bad way. In a maybe, way.
Send ‘!!’ and I’ll write a para description of your muse from mine’s perspective, including:
Their looks, their personality, and who they are to my muse, + Etc!
Several in here, so beneath the cut!
___
Tinnaire and Laeynna @webbedwine
She had blonde hair now, though not the golden yellow of Tinnaire's own, but platinum. Moonlight made manifest. She knew what had caused it for Fiorenze, but Laeynna was a mystery. That was a good word for the woman. Tinnaire hadn't seen much of her lately, but had heard through the grapevine that she and Andaeros had gotten engaged. Good. For both of them, they deserved happiness in each other. Her eyes flickered down to the other woman's hand and could just see the dark stone there. It suited her.
It had always been a little unclear how things were going to go with Laeynna. Tinnaire wasn't ready to spend time with the couple, may never be ready. But the two were so often out together, as couples in love should be. Still, she missed who had been her best friend, and she suspected she always would. She felt a little ache for missing getting to know his partner, too, and that was it's own sort of sadness for her. A bitter feeling, she knew was anchored in only her own issues.
When it was just Laeynna, it was easier. Easier to focus on the woman and not the couple. Easier to talk to her. Easier to be around Laeynna alone. She liked Laeynna, though sometimes she was surprised by the other woman's intensity and tendency to jump to conclusions.
Maybe it was easier for Laeynna to leave things be. For a long time, Tinnaire had wondered at Laeynna's desire to have a friendship with her. It seemed to wound the other woman no matter which way it went. Tinnaire would let Laeynna decide where things went.
Andaeros daubed a bit of frosting on Laeynna's nose. Tinnaire smiled a little and then turned around before any one spotted her, walking away from the weekly open house of the bakery.
light mention of: @andaerosdawnflare
___
Braedyn & Laeynna @webbedwine
Malleable was the wrong word. Laeynna did change frequently, and yet it did not seem to be so much a change forced on her as one Laeynna ran toward. Most often her hair color seemed to indicate changes. Braedyn reached up to tuck some of the fly-aways back into her own hair. Her lips tugged down at the corners as her brows pulled together slightly. Her own hair hardly ever changed. It had even been brought a few weeks ago.
It was annoying to think of herself as rigid, but looking over at Laeynna made it obvious she was.
___
Braedyn & Soryk @tealribbons
Her gaze landed on Val. His hair pulled back and his expression neutral as he listened to the others at Fancy Cakes. He quipped in occasionally, but typically he remained a little on the periphery, listening and cataloguing things happening around him. A little brusque at times, but usually friendly enough when spoken to and interactive when requested. She liked him. She wouldn't say she trusted him.
She felt they were alike in ways, though perhaps that was just projection. Still, she trusted her gut.
Send ‘!!’ and I’ll write a para description of your muse from mine’s perspective, including:
Their looks, their personality, and who they are to my muse, + Etc!
___
Braedyn & The Construct
He did not usually drink, just held the cup. Occasionally moving it from one hand to the other; trying to make it look like he was partaking? He had ordered food before, too, but that seemed harder to disguise. She didn't think he felt threatened or worried about the food. He didn't seem to feel anxious about the thought of eating or drinking, like a few other patrons had. He just seemed very uninterested. It seemed to her that he ordered solely for the purpose of trying on 'what you do at a cafe' and 'what everyone else was doing'. He'd gotten better with his expressions, too. The first few times they'd been a fraction of a moment too late, too precise, too flat. He was still usually fairly flat, observing everyone in that slightly unsettling gaze and interacting little.
She could understand some of that. Listening. Watching. Present, but a step removed. She wouldn't say anything.
@theconstructsworld
Send ‘!!’ and I’ll write a para description of your muse from mine’s perspective, including:
Their looks, their personality, and who they are to my muse, + Etc!
___
Khaeris & Ahuatli
She couldn't help the deep soul sigh of pleasure as she watched Ahua and little Zia'ja where they sat in the now quiet shallow waves. It was sunset, and like the golden city of Zul'dazar behind them, Ahuatli was radiant with sunlight reflecting liquid pools of gold up on the beautiful troll woman and her baby. The pair were laughing and cooing, delighted in each other. Love was all around.
Khaeris shifted where she sunbathed on her surfboard and felt her heart growing too big for her body. This family meant so much to Khaeris. Had taught her so much. Had given her so much. All that might have made it better was if Zul'jawa and Pollux had been there--then again, Khaeris treasured the time she got with Ahuatli (and the baby!) now. Maybe she shouldn't be too eager for the men to join them. The veildancer was such an inspiration to everyone who knew her kind, generous, and playful heart.
There was sentimental mist in her eyes as Khaeris lay her cheek down on the board, still unable to take her eyes off her friend. This. This was what life was about.
(Art of Ahuatli by @kissfortheelves )
@darkspear-dancers
Send ‘!!’ and I’ll write a para description of your muse from mine’s perspective, including:
Their looks, their personality, and who they are to my muse, + Etc!
___
Mesandrèaux and Marint @arealnowhereelf
She picked up the small wooden owl carving and stared down at it, recalling the crafter. She imagined what it must be like, to be an artist and create things, to have a vision and plan for materials. Mesandrèaux returned the carving to its home on her bookcase and sat at her desk. Her room was small but so familiar when the rest of life was feeling large and heavy again. Even so, she was restless and walked up the long way toward the small courtyard of the temple, avoiding her family that were working in various spaces.
She sat on the bench and looked at the small fountain, the woman lifting her arms in reverence toward the sky. Reverence. Her hands folded in her lap and she kept her expression soft, though she felt the heat rising in her cheeks. She wondered how embarrassing sitting for him was going to be. She didn't like to be the center of attention, and to think he was going to draw her face for hours...
Her mind wandered and she wondered if only having the one eye hindered his art at all. She wondered how he got started sculpting and carving. ... She wondered how he had gotten into his current work that gave him coin, since he did not charge for his art. She rolled her lips and wondered if she could trust that he wasn't in too deeply, too close to dangerous information and people. She trusted his answer to be as honest, but she wasn't sure about how close you could get to that sort of work and not be stuck in it--even if you wanted to believe you were careful. It seemed such a slippery slope. But he was smart. And he was cautious. He had to be, to take care with his son.
He was older than she was, by a good margin, she assumed. She supposed he had been doing it long enough that it was none of her concern how close to dangerous people and jobs he might be. But it was natural to worry after a friend, wasn't it? Were they friends? She hoped so. She thought so. Budding and awkward as she made it, he always smiled and seemed charmed--though she didn't set out with the intent to charm! He had an expressive face and such an amiable attitude, what he must think of her!
Reverence.
She blew out a sigh and rose, leaving the temple to wander the Suramar streets.
Send ‘!!’ and I’ll write a para description of your muse from mine’s perspective, including:
Their looks, their personality, and who they are to my muse, + Etc!
___
Tinnaire and Altherei
The astromancer was a lovely woman and Tinnaire could feel the warm, curious spirit that she held. It might have been easy to think she was fragile, as well, when the first visions that came to mind were from K'aresh, after the brutal attack that had happened around Altherei. Naturally, shock and fear had been so close to the surface in the eco-dome. But since then, when Tinnaire had seen her, the woman was poised and kind. She hosted frequently, and had that air of welcome and efficiency. Fiorenze and Altherei had become better friends, Tinnaire knew, perhaps drawn by parallels: hosting parties and stars and more. Tinnaire looked forward to getting a chance to know her more, but she wondered if what Altherei saw when she looked at her was K'aresh, as well. Perhaps she'd leave the play for Altherei to make, rather than push in.
Send ‘!!’ and I’ll write a para description of your muse from mine’s perspective, including:
Their looks, their personality, and who they are to my muse, + Etc!
___
Tinnaire and Nahilvi
It was only pineapple juice in their glasses, but even then the laughter came freely. The softer evening sunshine made them both glow as they sat on the patio, each of them stretching long legs out toward the street. Dessert plates were cleaned and now they were simply catching up. It was easy, it was fun, it was warm. Tinnaire took another sip from her glass, eyes admiring Nahilivi's striking hair and fashion style--even for this casual dinner, the woman looked ready for anything. Sometimes, Tinnaire felt old around Nahi, but the other woman never treated her in any way except a valued friend. Maybe it was the part of her nature that had called her to be a good nurse, to help others. Or all that Nahilvi had gone through and how she'd had to grow up so quickly, herself. Tinnaire's heart warmed, listening to her friend talk about the schedule for Fire Fest and upcoming work; Nahi was a busy bee, and she hoped she could give her a few moments of quiet and peace and easy'ness.
