IF I CAN'T MAKE IT RIGHT ; THEN I WON'T MAKE IT WORSE
-- Indie + semi-sel rp blog for Miriam Jewel an undead human Lich (Mage DK) OC for WORLD OF WARCRAFT
-- as loved by buggy.
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One Nice Bug Per Day
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@lichbride
IF I CAN'T MAKE IT RIGHT ; THEN I WON'T MAKE IT WORSE
-- Indie + semi-sel rp blog for Miriam Jewel an undead human Lich (Mage DK) OC for WORLD OF WARCRAFT
-- as loved by buggy.
Rules (and more) | Headcanons | Ask | Submit
Cigarettes After Sex— Don’t Let Me Go (via lunamonchtuna)
I've never been much of an artist but I'd love to try and draw a buoquet that sums up Miriam's current self... Victorian flower language is calling to me once again, I'm afraid.
幻想の楽園
Finally taking the time to re-look over a lot of miriam's info bc my memory has gone to the curb. I've adjusted the carrd rule pages, did a massive update on 'about mun' that's very vital to read, and I'm sitting down & editting bits of Mary's lore (like her birth year being 579, not 585, so older too). Also working slowly on a proper synopsis!!! Ty pookies for being so patient with me and my messy account ;v;
Girldinner but it's specifically Mary just eating cheese, crackers, various meats & strawberry jam every day. Silly weekly sidequest & she just asks champions to grab her like. Whatever meats they think she'll enjoy. Arthur has had to beg weekly visiters to please make sure Mary actually asks what the meat is.
Fish is off the table. Mary was hugely allegeric to fish in life. She's not sure if allergies carry on in undeath; she's not finding out.
One headcanon that I really like for Mary, from private world building & stuff (and can actually fit in normal circumstances), is that she has severe dyslexia. Despite this, she still pushed herself to learn how to read, how to write; especially when you consider the overall 'time' setting of WoW.
It's a very small thing, and not of too much note, until you realize how heavily into politics Mary was when alive, how many reports & documents she likely oversaw, and the sheer amount of stress and shame her dyslexia brought her— still does in some cases.
Glyphs and learning magic, in comparison, felt so ellevating and freeing for her. You don't need to 'read' the arcane, simply feel it, manifest it, warp it and the mana that fuels magic.
Tiffin was one of the very few people who supported Mary & her dyslexia, and helped her greatly in grasping literature when Arthur, Miriam's brother, grew more active as a Paladin of the Silver Hand and could no tutor Mary as often as he used to. Despite how careful Miriam tries to be, her dyslexia can still be fairly evident in things like old letters, labels for clothes or certain threads. Some days are better than others, whilst other days are a literate nightmare. Tools over the years have helped her greatly to read text clearer, especially if she's already familiar with someone's handwriting. But it still has its flare ups.
Only a select few can make light of her dyslexia, if she doesn't joke about it herself. ( example; she once wrote a letter to Terenas to appeal to him regarding concerns she had about Daval, when he first appeared in Court. Mary asked Tiffin to proof-read the letter for her. She spelt 'Terenas' as 'Trenass'. It became a small inside joke between them, in private, when Terenas was being particularly... stubborn. )
send a ‘👄 + character name’ and my muse will talk about that character
send a ‘👄 + character name’ and my muse will talk about that character
Arthur is so gd tiny.... Literally World's smallest Death Knight. Yet somehow it still took both Daval & Genn to hold this little shit back when he tried to actively murder his father. The real short king. (Thank's Nelth for the extra 2 inches your armor gave him.)
send a ‘👄 + character name’ and my muse will talk about that character
✎ㅤ. . .ㅤ𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵 𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺.
₊˚⊹ ㅤa collection of character analysis/headcanon questions to learn more about your character and your partners'! writing/headcanon prompts requested by anonymous. feel free to edit these as you see fit.
[ 🖐️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat do their hands feel like: soft, calloused, trembling ? [ ☂️ ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they crave touch or fear it ? [ 🎐 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a sound, like a song or voice, that they associate with peace ? [ 🕊️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen did they feel the safest ? [ 💤 ]ㅤ.ㅤhow do they sleep ? curled up, sprawled, holding onto something ? [ 🦇 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a fear they never talk about ? [ 🔒 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a secret they’ve sworn never to tell ? [ 🪢 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen was the last time they broke a promise ? [ 🫳 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho do they feel they owe, but never paid back ? [ 💼 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat do they always carry with them ? [ 🧨 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s the quickest way to set them off, even if they hide it well ? [ ⛓️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat does guilt feel like to them ? [ 💢 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho have they never forgiven and never will ? [ 🩸 ]ㅤ.ㅤis there something or someone that, if lost, would break them ? [ 🌧️ ]ㅤ.ㅤis there a pain they refuse to heal from ? [ 🪞 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen have they looked at their reflection and hated what they saw ? [ 📿 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat superstition or ritual do they cling to ? [ 🌊 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen was the last time they cried ? [ 🐾 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo animals like them instinctively ? [ 🪶 ]ㅤ.ㅤhow do they laugh ? [ 🫀 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho taught them what love is ? did it hurt ? [ 💭 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they believe they’re worthy of being loved ? [ 🎀 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is their main love language ? [ 🔦 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho do they search for ? [ 📜 ]ㅤ.ㅤis there a story they love sharing with others ? [ 🌒 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a dream or goal they have given up on ? [ 🕯️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat memory do they replay when they’re alone ? [ 🌪️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s the one choice they regret (not) making ? [ 🧩 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s a truth about themselves they refuse to admit ? [ 🍻 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of drunk are they ? [ ✉️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of letter would they write but never send ? [ 🗡️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a scar that they have but never talk about ? [ 🕸️ ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a favourite lie they like to hear ? [ 🪦 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat would they want on their gravestone but never admit aloud ? [ 🎱 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of future do they crave, and who’s in it ? [ 🌀 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a recurring dream or nightmare ? [ 🍃 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they feel like they belong ? [ ⚓ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat does “home” mean to them ? [ 🧭 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhere would they go if they could disappear tomorrow ?
[ 🧨 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s the quickest way to set them off, even if they hide it well ? [ 🕸️ ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a favourite lie they like to hear ?
HEADCANON QUESTIONS / ( Accepting ! )
[ 🧨 — what’s the quickest way to set them off, even if they hide it well ? ]
Mrs. Hewitt.
A simple name, its title just as plain. To the foolish, it is another last name. To Miriam, it's the permenant marker of Felix's boundless cruelty. He was not content with her body, with her abode, with her worldly possessions nor all the Jewel's wealth; he had to shatter her last gasp of air for freedom. The one thread that kept her will like iron. Felix pilfered her last sanctum; her name.
To call her Mrs. Hewitt, is to send yourself to death. Despite the leaps and bounds she has made, her anguish, her grief, her suffering— all manifests in a flurry of arcane excess. Even a Death Knight would struggle to contain Miriam's outburst, for the nature of her magic, like herself, is torn between life and death. Frost and Arcane whirl, a maelstrom of the rage, carrying howling winds that many could mistake for a banshee's cries.
She isn't his. She's not his. She's never been his. He took her hand, by force. He took everything. He ruined her soul, made her body into a horrid thing that can barely recognise the difference between a loving caress or a beating fist.
Only a dead man would dare utter that name.
[ 🕸️ — do they have a favourite lie they like to hear ? ]
You're beautiful.
It's such a silly thing, perhaps pretenious, even. How can something so beaten and worn be beautiful anymore? It's truly hopeless, and there are times when such a lie furthers heartache.
But, in small alcoves, in hushed whispers, whilst someone holds her face as though she were truly her namesake ( a brilliant jewel )— she savours the lie. She swallows it down, her thirst for grains of affection an ever-present affliction. There are times when she swears someone utters it as if true ( she cannot see the beauty of her survival ), and those times are of pure bliss.
How could she be beautiful? Her back is marred by horrific fel, the runes binding and fueling the terrible whispers that ensure she cannot escape Felix's voice. Scars on others; those are beauty. Those are truly breathtaking. They are signs of honor, valor, courage, unwavering will. But her scars? No. No, she doesn't believe they can be anything more than marks of age on an abandoned toy.
To say she's beautiful, even after one sees her body unobstructed; it causes tears to fall, as they had in life. It's selfish. So selfish. But the lie ( the truth that she cannot see ) is simply too sweet to deny. It's almost enough to thaw the ice that's captivated her wretched heart.
🪶 ⚓ :-)
HEADCANON QUESTIONS / ( Accepting ! )
[ 🪶 — how do they laugh ? ]
in life, Miriam's laughter could best be described as warm, bubbly; cheek dimples radiant on plush, blushing cheeks. In her best moments, she practically burst out with laughter, like the rays of sun peeking out from clouded skies it often brightened the room she stood in.
For some time in her undeath, her laughter became withered. Near-emotionless. There was no heart, no warm; it grew sadistic, once full cheeks bordering on gaunt and hollow as if starved before her demise. It became sharp, bitter. Soft noises easily hidden by the simplest, gentlest of sounds.
Now, there's a glimmer of what once was whole. The flower cannot unwither. Snow remains despite the sun's light shining beyond white clouds, but winter's bite has settled. To get her to laugh is still quite a task, but not near-impossible as it has previously been. Neutral expression lightens. The corner of painted lips twitch upwards, once prominent dimples only observable to the sharpest of gazes. Sadistic tones have dullen, more akin to playful meanness. It cannot be what it had been, an age ago, but what matters is that she laughs at all.
[ ⚓ — ㅤwhat does “home” mean to them ? ]
It used to be Lorderon. It used to be Elwynn Forest. It used to be Stormwind. It was, for a time, Dalaran. It used to mean so much, from places, to those whose souls have left her alone, through no fault of their own.
But home— her home— had always been her brother. It used to be alongside Varian, and Anduin, and Jaina, and so many more. When she lost Arthur, everything she thought she knew about 'home' came crashing down. Her family's manor was just that; a manor. Stormwind keep was just a Keep. Another castle. Buildings, places, people— at some point, the definition of home left Mary. It, too, left her behind.
She still struggles to put a meaning on 'home' beyond 'a place where one rests'. Since reuniting with her brother, she's found a place; not a home, not quite, but it's something. The more people who come to visit her whilst injured, however, the further clarity she's provided.
'Home'; it has always been with those she cares for. Forever and always. In death and undeath. She can't regain the homes she's lost, but she can start anew; start anew she has, but it is slow. Sluggish. Leave a light on for her, please, so that she knows that the door is always open.
I'd kill just to be able to afford supplies for a new dress. Fyi.
1 gold and I'll buy a new piggy bank to keep eternally empty because the fucking pricing on tailoring supplies iS FUCKING RIDICULOUS WDYM YOU WANT 10 GOLD FOR SOME FUCKING SPECIAL THREAD YOU PIECES OF SHIT!!! IF I WANTED FANCY THREAD JUST TO MAKE A SHIT STITCH LOOK PRETTY, I'D GO TO MY BROTHER!!!!