((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
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.
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 Raxwel
There was a cigar, waiting. Tinnaire's eyes softened, thinking on the man it was waiting for. She could picture his pleased with himself shit-eating grin and she could hear the warm richness of his voice, softened by bourbon and good conversation. She missed the days they met in Dalaran for coffee. She should send him a note, tell him to come to Silvermoon now that it was open. He'd have to sneak into the part of town her apartment was in--but he seemed to kind of like doing that. Raxwel was missed. It had been a season for an elf, but perhaps longer for a human--did he think she'd forgotten him? Had he forgotten her? Surely not. Life just gets in the way. It felt good to remember a platonic friendship that was easy and meaningful; she would try to reach out, send a letter.
Send ‘!!’ and I’ll write a para description of your muse from mine’s perspective: for Messy & Ries, and Tinn & Fio
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 & Riesling
There was a glow to the woman, like an aura of the sunshine so beloved of her people. Dr. Vinesong was certainly an asset to the Shielded Mind clinic--positivity and competence could go a long way in helping with an injured person. Mesandrèaux wouldn't have called herself envious of the other woman's easy-going attitude and outlook, but she did admire it and sometimes wish she, too, could be seen as a 'golden retriever puppy'. She felt a wistful little pull at her breastbone, seeing the other woman's free smile and warm expression.
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Tinnaire & Fiorenze
Whiskey in hand, Tinnaire sat back and looked up. And up. A tree. A fucking tree had opened itself up and allowed Fiorenze to home inside it like she a beautiful wood nymph. Tinn shook her head with immense fondness warming her warming her more than the whiskey, and silently admitted to some envy of Fiorenze. The other woman was sipping her wine and telling Tinnaire about her fencing match and Tinn let her friend's voice wash over her, casting a spell all its own to describe the colored enchantments, the arena, and the feeling of the bouts. Fiorenze had changed over the last several years, but it was mostly for the good. Tinnaire remembered the rich brown of her hair in youthful days; now the white hair glowed like the moon. Tinnaire remembered how her friend had drawn gazes and intrigue both, how she'd commanded a room with her smiles and laughter.
This felt so much more natural though--two old friends, drinking and divesting life's much smaller secrets and snickers. Tinnaire had always been comfortable with Fio; they'd schooled together, fought together, and laughed together. A time without Fiorenze somewhere in her life was hard to recall. Tinnaire hoped it would remain that way for the rest of her days.
___
@riesling-vinesong @fio-renze
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
____
Khaeris lay back, relaxing on the sofa now that things had quieted from the semi-regular dinner. The boys had gone and it was quiet. Pollux was reading something Keyalin had brought over, though his left hand rested gently between her legs where she'd draped them over his lap. She was always getting in his personal space. Sometimes she wondered what his eyes had looked like before his accident, before those ingenious prosthetics--she could not imagine him without them. He was focused on the manual currently, but she felt her dimples slowly come out to think about how they looked when they were focused on her. He hadn't yet taken off his prosthetics, but she knew he was in evening wind-down mode. She wiggled deeper into the couch--her evening wind down looked more like a 'pleasantly melted' mode--and the motion earned her a flick of those eyes. She smiled and her breath caught in the back of her throat as her pulse picked up. Just from that. He smiled and leaned down to kiss her briefly before going back to his reading. Gods and goats when he smiled... This had been an unusual campaign for him, with him home much more frequently, but she was not going to waste the extra time she got with her lover. She would drape over him every private moment that she could not quite pull him in to dancing with her.
Little bit of a weird mood tonight, could use some creative stuff to ponder and post.
I'll do it for Khaeris, Tinnaire, and Messy--please specify in your ask.
I envy people that can make a plot! I am not good at full storytelling; I am sure I could get better, but it feels overwhelming and I feel extremely unskilled in telling a full story.
Which is probably why I lean on character profiles and introspective pieces mostly. >.>
But, man!, do I wish I was good at plots.
Kharris
(& Khaeris) @kharrisdawndancer - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
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