Memoirs of a Tourist

Evelyn Alvar/Siobhan. A cross-fandom OC with verses in The Dresden Files, Doctor Who, Marvel, and more. Multi-verse, non-exclusive. Mun and muse both over 18. Selective. Written by Amyla. Please read About and Rules pages before interacting. Follows back from here for idontdohats.

[memoirsverse]

((I’m moving all my Authors of Paradise characters to a multimuse here: @authorsofparadise. This includes @memoirsverse, @thedragoninside, and @beautiful-thorne. Still building the page and all the individual character pages, but feel free to go follow over there!))

[memoirsverse]

((Also feel free to follow my Harry Dresden blog @thatgoddamnwizard!))

[memoirsverse]

((I’m moving all my Authors of Paradise characters to a multimuse here: @authorsofparadise. This includes @memoirsverse, @thedragoninside, and @beautiful-thorne. Still building the page and all the individual character pages, but feel free to go follow over there!))

[memoirsverse]

((I’m moving all my Authors of Paradise characters to a multimuse here: @authorsofparadise. This includes @memoirsverse, @thedragoninside, and @beautiful-thorne. Still building the page and all the individual character pages, but feel free to go follow over there!))

[memoirsverse]

((I’ve been challenging myself to do more art every day. So I did today’s Art Camp Official (on Twitter) challenge. Not perfect, but it’s getting there!))

[memoirsverse]

deviantchronicles‌: 

Poisoned.

Vidar had been thinking about it, but that didn’t make hearing it any more comfortable. He could feel his own skin getting cold and clammy and even sitting down, with no weight on his leg, the feeling of icy pins and needles hadn’t gone away.

Definitely poisoned.

And he had to agree, he was in trouble. He could only hope that Nadav had any kind of idea what was going on and how to fix it. So far, the big idiot had been pretty good about saving the day every time Vidar or Vali had needed him to.

The offered sketchbook startled a huffed laugh out of Vidar and he nodded. His own notebook, which had been given to him a long while ago and which was mostly neglected, was somewhere in a cupboard in the kitchen, but he was in no condition to go and find it. So he took the neat little volume from her, flipped it to an empty page and began to write in uneven letters:

'Was something big. No idea what. Probably poisoned. Have a friend coming. He’ll help.’

His writing was that of someone who had learned to write late in life and wasn’t overly used to it. The almost childlike quality of his penmanship wasn’t exactly helped by the fact that his hands had started shaking.

He really hoped that Nadav would hurry up and make his way there with whatever strange ways he had.

And thinking of that, Vidar considered if it was a good idea to have a stranger there when the half giant arrived.

'Don’t need to stay. I’ll be fine.’

Vidar added to the sketchbook before holding it out to Evelyn.

Evelyn accepted the sketchbook back from him and read over the awkward scrawl, then arched an eyebrow at him. There was something undeniably sketchy about this man, between his insistent avoidance of hospitals and attempt to send her away. 

But then again, she always avoided hospitals herself, for very good reason. For the first time, she wondered if Vidar’s aversion to hospitals had less to do with what he may have done, and more to do with what he was. 

That could make things extremely complicated, and her life was already complicated enough as it was, thank you very much. It would probably be smart to do as he asked, to leave and wash her hands of this whole thing. If he wanted to take stupid risks to his own life, it was his to risk. 

And if he died because she left him to fend for himself while waiting for his friend to arrive, then his blood would be on her hands. She had the ability to help him, to at least stabilize him until help arrived. She wasn’t a skilled healer, but she had some other, seemingly unrelated abilities that would most certainly slow down the spread of the poison in his body for a period of time. It would expose what she was to this man, but maybe it would be worth the risk if she could save his life.

“Dammit,” she mumbled, then tossed the sketchbook and pencil to the floor. She was going to need them for what she was about to do. “Nope, forget it. Not happening.” She took a step closer to him. “Listen, Vidar, I can slow the spread of the poison in your body, at least long enough for your friend to get here. It... isn’t exactly conventional, what I do. But it’ll be effective.” She motioned to the floor. “You’ll need to lie down for this.”

[memoirsverse]

🤕

“This is ridiculous.” Evelyn tried to put some heat into her voice, but it came out as a thready whisper. The creature that had come out of the rift several days ago had nearly torn her to pieces-- and would have, if her friends hadn’t been there to defend her. 

She didn’t want to admit how much she hated that her friends had needed to defend her. She should be better than this by now. Stronger, more capable. What if they hadn’t been there? 

Her partially inhuman body and hospitals didn’t mix, so they’d had to improvise with her medical care, and she was under strict orders to move as little as possible while her body mended. She glared up at Michael from where she lay flat on her back in bed. “I don’t need a nursemaid hovering around me twenty-four-seven. I’m fine. I’ve got my books. I’ve got my laptop and Netflix. The bathroom is five feet from the bed. Go away.”

[memoirsverse]

deviantchronicles‌: 

The accusation of ‘hardheadedness’ was answered with a curl of his lips that may or may not have been a pout, but Vidar let her bend down to work on his leg. He watched her, craning his neck to keep both of her hands in view, but made no attempt to stop her.

He may be hardheaded, but not stupid.

Past experiences showed where the refusal of help led and honestly, he’d had enough of Nadav’s Talks to last him a lifetime.

The water stung and the pressure of the gauze she was stuffing into the wound dragged another low, uncomfortable noise from him, but Vidar kept still until her hands tied off the makeshift bandage, his only movements to assist her or to prescribe a snakelike motion in the air and then make snapping motions with his hand, mouthing ‘snake’ followed by a shrug.

Whatever had decided to try him on for a snack, it had been long, as thick around as his thigh and slippery. From the wound in his leg, he’d call it a lamprey if it hadn’t been bigger than any of those suckers had a right to be. Not that he had a way to communicate that right now, but he didn’t think that was necessary.

His would be rescuer didn’t exactly seem keen on going into the water and if it was something more of the supernatural variety, he didn’t think that she would have much of an idea either.

Which was why he was rather insistent in pushing himself to his feet and getting back to the cabin, more specifically the old, robust mobile phone that waited on the counter in the mud room.

His leg ached as he tried to get it under him, but when he carefully rested his weight on it, the feeling of pins and needles  spread like a tidal wave from the wound and took away all feeling from the hip down. In a reflex, Vidar threw out his hand, grasping her by the shoulder to keep himself from collapsing back to the ground.

Definitely something more than just a bite.

Teeth gritted painfully tight, he jerked his head towards the cabin. He really, really needed to send a message or he’d be in trouble.

The walk was slow with the painful numbness spreading into his groin and making it harder and harder to move his leg, but they managed and Vidar pushed open the unlocked door, immediately gesturing towards the mobile phone.

'Here!’, he rasped tonelessly, hands fluttering and once the device was in his hand, he typed out a message.

“Need help. Got hurt. -V”

The phone confirmed the sending of the message with a cheerful little tune and Vidar looked up at his would be rescuer.

'Thank you.’, he mouthed and tapped three bloodied finger against his chest. 'Vidar.’, he pressed out, again in a painful sounding, toneless voice.

“A... snake did this?” Evelyn glanced doubtfully down at the man’s bandaged leg as she did her best to support him. She wasn’t exactly an expert, but shouldn’t a snakebite look like a pair of puncture marks, rather than the circular, gaping hole she had seen marring his leg? 

Maybe it was just something snake-like, which opened up a whole host of other possibilities that she most certainly did not like, especially considering how big the thing must have been to take a bite that size out of the man. It made her all the more relieved that they were retreating to some semblance of shelter. 

Evelyn wasn’t exactly what one might call tall, so she swayed a little under the man’s weight when he grabbed at her to keep from falling. She clutched at his clothing, braced her legs, and gritted her teeth, then hauled him towards the cabin. She didn’t like the way his wounded leg was dragging, as though he had lost all feeling in it. That couldn’t be good.

Entering the cabin, she helped him to the phone as he requested, noting that he was capable of some speech, though his voice was a tattered rasp that seemed to pain him when he used it. At least there seemed to be mobile service out here, which made her feel a little bit better about being out here alone with a strange man, even an injured one. Her own phone was resting in its little pocket sewn into the inner lining of her bag. Wiping her bloodied hands on her jeans-- her clothes were ruined anyway, so she might as well-- she watched him send out the text to whatever mysterious contact he had on there, and nodded in response to his thanks and introduction.

“Don’t mention it. I’m Evelyn.” She reached for Vidar’s arm again and guided him towards a nearby chair. “Here, let’s at least get you sitting. Do you think the wound is poisoned? Because if it is, we need to do something about that right now or you’re going to have bigger problems than you’ve already got.” A thought occurred to her, and she snatched her backpack from where she had let it slide to the floor a moment ago, retrieving a small sketchbook and a pencil from inside. Sometimes she liked to sketch the flora and fauna she saw on her meanders, and the little book was about half full of such drawings. She handed the sketchbook and pencil to Vidar. “For easier communication.”

[moretrashyrpmemes]

Send 🤕 to take care of my muse after they sustained an immobilizing injury

[memoirsverse]

deviantchronicles‌: 

Vidar had been staring accusingly at the large wound in his thigh where the … whatever that thing had been had latched on. The wound was perfectly circular and conical, the creature having taken out a good chunk of flesh and muscle.

He had his hands clamped around his leg, trying to both stem the flow of blood as well as trying to get a handle on the sharp, stinging pain that radiated from the wound in time with his heartbeat. Something told him that the purely physical injury was the least of his problems.

The young woman that had helped him drag himself out of the water of the lake was still hovering nearby and her suggestion made Vidar look up at her. His reply was a sharp shake of his head and a gruff, hoarse grumble.

Slowly, he peeled one of his hands from his leg and described a rudimentary shape of a house in the air before pointing to his left.

Sometimes a day hike was just what the doctor ordered, especially when the realities of Evelyn’s life pressed too tightly around her. Even her home was a place of potential chaos and colossal responsibility that never quite faded to the background. There was always a world-shattering crisis at hand, always some debacle that she and Arabella got through by the skin of their teeth. 

The forest always seemed to hold a paradoxical energy to Evelyn, simultaneously quiet and yet fully, deeply alive with sounds of all kinds. Birds flapping and chirping in the trees. Some sort of animal moving in the underbrush. A deer freezing and staring wide-eyed for a few seconds before bounding away. Evelyn paused in her easy pace, shifting the backpack straps on her shoulders, and closed her eyes, breathing deeply and letting her senses, usually coiled tightly around her, unfurl and thread their way through the forest. Tree and earth, water and wind reached back to meet her.

And a taint of violence, of unnatural predation, of blood and pain and fear also touched her outstretched senses. Her eyes flew open. “Oh, for Heaven’s sake.”

Her hand found the hilt of the large knife she had strapped to her thigh as a precaution, and she drew it as she lurched into a sprint in the direction the discordant sensation had come from. She kept her senses open and honed in on the disturbance as she ran. “One day,” she panted. “That’s all I ask. One nice, peaceful day without any insanity whatsoever.”

She broke through a clearing five minutes later and saw the lake, its water glittering and sloshing in the sunlight. Her eyes swept back and forth as she slowed her pace and approached more cautiously, and the man near the shore caught her attention. She moved towards him, alert for what may have attacked him, but she could see nothing. Whatever it was must have gone.

Dropping the knife and her bag to the ground, she waded into the water, caught the man by the arm, and helped him get to shore. After seeing the wound in his leg, she urged him to go to a doctor, and his wordless reply made her raise an eyebrow. Only then did she notice the scarring on his throat. She dropped into a crouch as he made a sign with his hands, and nodded with understanding, her gaze following the direction he was pointing. Through the tangle of leaves, she could see the dark, rigid structure of a cabin in the near distance.

“Okay,” she told him, reaching for her backpack and pulling it next to her. “But let’s get this packed and bound up so you don’t lose more blood on the way. Then we can talk about your particular brand of hardheadedness.” Maybe she could talk some sense into him later, but for now, she just needed to do a little damage control before he bled out. Furthermore, whatever had attacked him was probably still nearby, and getting them both to some sort of shelter seemed like a practical plan. 

She had learned long ago to come prepared, and had packed a little first aid kit in her bag before leaving. After widening the bloodied rip in his pants to give her better access, she removed the canister of drinking water that she had tucked into a netting on the outside of her bag and unscrewed the lid. Then she carefully cleaned the wound with some of the water and pressed a bundle of gauze against it, following with a few loops of medical tape wrapped around his leg to hold it in place. 

“What attacked you anyway?” she asked, before remembering that he probably couldn’t talk. “Um, sorry. I guess that can wait until we get you taken care of.” Rising to her feet, she offered a hand to help him up.

[angstmemes]

Send me ⚠ to find my muse at the end of a trail of blood.

- submitted by anonymous

[jamsmemes]

(     *     ‘SALEM’S LOT PROMPTS   !    

——     stephen king.

❛  alone. yes, that’s the key word, the most awful word in the english tongue.  ❜

❛  the basis of all human fears. a closed door, slightly ajar.  ❜

❛  crying was like pissing everything out on the ground.  ❜

❛  there are no words for childhood’s dark turns and exhalations.  ❜

❛  a child who counts the cost is a child no longer.  ❜

❛  if a fear cannot be articulated, it cannot be conquered.  ❜

❛  the only thing more natural than death was sex.  ❜

❛  at three in the morning the blood runs slow and thick, and slumber is heavy.  ❜

❛  if a man dethrones god in his heart, satan must ascend to his position.  ❜

❛  the bestiality of the night rises on tenebrous wings. the vampire’s time has come.  ❜

❛  it would have been better if there had been pain. pain was at least real.  ❜

❛  there is every possibility that some of us, or all of us, may live and triumph.  ❜

❛  the act of moving forward at all became heroism.  ❜

❛  in the midst of life, we are in death.  ❜

❛  horror is destroyed by boredom. love is a dream.  ❜

❛  the town cares for devil’s work no more than it cares for god’s or man’s.  ❜

❛  it knew darkness. and darkness was enough.  ❜

❛  we’d all be scared if we knew what was swept under the carpet of each other’s minds.  ❜

❛  there is no life here but the slow death of days.  ❜

❛  it is almost as though the town knows the evil was coming and the shape it would take.  ❜

❛  it seems the more you have the more aggressive you become.  ❜

❛  without faith, the cross is only wood, the bread baked wheat, the wine sour grapes.  ❜

❛  houses absorb the emotions that are spent in them.  ❜

❛  the people elected me. but who elected the people?  ❜

[first-meeting-memes]

Spooky first meeting memes!

Send a symbol for out muses to meet…

☳ - As test subjects in an illegal experiment

⇝ - Lost in a dark wood

☠ - Under Quarantine

✝ - At a creepy cemetery

☉ - In an abandoned building

▩ - Trapped underground

⋬ - As cell mates in a dungeon

⑇ - Being bought at an auction together

〄 -In a condemned hospital

[memoirsverse]

((Hello. Need to do some other stuff today but I may hang out here too and do a little writing.))

[deluxeloy]

Human: Deal.

Fey: Very well. When you return home tonight, your mother will be in pristine health again. It will be like she never fell ill at all. Even the memory of her suffering will fade…

Human: Thank you so much. She means everything to me.

Fey: I know, I know. Let’s hope the price wasn’t too much for you after all… Only time will tell.

Human: So, when do we start?

Fey: …If I may ask you to elaborate?

Human: You said you wanted my firstborn.

Fey: Yes? And you agreed?

Human: Yeah, so, when do we start?

Fey:

Fey, blushing: Ah.

[hayleyolivia]

So good. It deserved a some art.

[deluxeloy]

Well, my day is made.

[harry-meepmeep-dresden]

There’s art with it now, so must reblog. 

[memoirsverse]

What plots/arcs would ya’ll like to see on here? Send asks!

[memoirsverse]

primechicagowizard‌:

@memoirsverse

from here

“You think this is too morbid a topic to discuss over food?” His tone shifted, maybe because the transition into the rockier patch of terrain that his comment could lead wasn’t altogether very pleasant at all. And it certainly didn’t reflect the fair company he was sharing. 

He blinked, lapsing into a momentary silence.

“Why is it we’re always eating when we’re together?” He looked down at the chocolate croissant dusted with powdered sugar safely nestled in his hand. “…. I was eating this very thing when we first met!” Or he HAD eventually begun to devour it during the ‘meeting’ process, and however he awkwardly became acquainted with people. 

“There’s just something about you that makes me want to eat something sweet.” He popped his lips and gestured toward her with his index finger, “That came out waaaay more sexual than I meant it.” 

“Morbid? Have you seen my shop? Morbid is my bread and butter.” Evelyn grinned at him, but her grin faltered a little when she saw the look on his face. Oh. Must be a touchy subject for him. 

Harry had never been the most forthcoming about matters of personal importance, especially when it involved difficult emotions or trauma. And Evelyn wasn’t one to pry. She figured people kept things to themselves for a reason. She knew she certainly did, and she had a whole backlog of trauma to pull from. More than she fully remembered.

And that thought led to a rabbit hole that she absolutely did not want to go down. She shrugged and took a bite of her coffee cake.

She smirked at his next words, one eyebrow lifting as he bumbled his way into an apparently accidental innuendo. “Harry,” she said. “Your id is showing.”

[memoirsverse]

amcracchius‌: 

He recognizes the searching look and gives her a moment. He may not have to be afraid for murderers, but women at the side of the road might have more to fear. So he waited while she made her judgment and made sure to look reassuring.

“I can’t tell from here, but if it takes too long I could give you a lift if you want? Or we could call a car service so they can fix it.” He was optimistic that it wouldn’t take too long, though. He was fairly knowledgeable on how to fix cars and the ones that randomly broke down like this usually didn’t have too big a problem. With the tools in the back of the truck he would surely be able to fix it in no time.

He stepped out of the car then, but still kept some distance, “I’m Michael, by the way, nice to meet you.”

A lift? Evelyn tried to imagine what this man’s reaction might be to whatever insanity was going down at the rift site. On the other hand, as long as he didn’t deliberately involve himself in the situation, thus entangling himself with the energy of the rift and its... unique exports, he would likely forget any of it ever happened once she and Arabella contained it. That tended to happen whenever reality and causality were temporarily scrambled and then reset. 

On the other hand, though, if for some reason he did directly involve himself... 

That would throw an unknown element right in the middle of an already unstable and catastrophically dangerous ongoing threat to reality. Who knew what might come of that?

She shook her head as she watched him get out of his car, but gave him a small, polite smile at his introduction. “Evelyn. And no, that’s okay. I’ll just call a cab or something if--”

Her phone chimed repeatedly in her hand, indicating incoming texts.

Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit. 

She eyed Michael, then sighed. “On second thought, I’m going to take you up on that offer of a ride,” she said. “If you can get me there in less than five minutes, I’ll owe you a favor. A big one.”