Did any of your characters serve under the Scourge? If so, what was the experience like for them?
My tumblr’s titular Ashmaw served underneath the yoke of the Scourge. To this day, his singular purpose is undoing some small fraction of the ills he perpetrated during that time (even the least of which is, to him, unforgivable). There is one entity that can grant him reprieve from his sins, and it’s not some Warchief who no longer holds the title. That kind of amnesty isn’t given by mortal men.
Until the Earthmother draws him into her embrace, he will put no hoof on Mulgore, he will hunt no beast, pray no prayers, he will not wear the colors of his tribe, will not use his living name. He has stumbled a few times: begging the Earthmother to judge him in his moments of weakness, standing on the zeppelin that docks with Thunder Bluff, stalking the occasional darkhound through the forests near Brill.
Everything he did under the Lich King was, in hindsight, a nightmare for the tauren now called Ashmaw. Unlife alone was a spit in the face of everything he’s ever believed, and every life he took was one doomed to never be an ancestor -- to say nothing of those he gleefully cursed with half-hearted reanimation.
But he loved it. Gone were his worries of succor to the defeated, gone was the guilt of slaying thinking beings, this was what it was be a huntsman. Prey that can fight and think and suffer. Every swing of a rune-forged axe was more exhilarating than the best meal, the most exciting night with his wife, the greatest hunt, the birth of his son. It was purpose and joy and relief each time his blade bit into something alive and ended a destiny.
Worse yet, he did these crimes with others. He and the Spectres of Mord’rethar who would scout ahead of larger forces and determine one of a few outcomes: can we do this ourselves? Can we start this and wait for the teeming dead to back us up? Should we return to the larger force? More often than not, they’d simply engage. A hungry runeblade does not for a patient death knight make.
In the aftermath of all that, yokes snapped and chains broken, Ashmaw still has those black desires. Every breathing person he meets is a potential moment of relief from that gnawing thing in his gut that tells him to hurt his friends.
And Ashmaw is one of the lucky ones. He has friends. People that remind him he can have moments of weakness and not backslide entirely. People that he can draw on for strength. Without Astoreth Duskflame-Firewing, to whom he has sworn old oaths to protect (even if she has almost zero need of protecting these days), he might be one of the cruel, aimless villains that haunt darker corners of Azeroth.
Where are your characters more likely to be found? In a seedy bar, or in a high class restaurant?
Most: Seedy Bar. Either because they are poor, alcoholics, looking for drunks to procure reagents from their sleeping, intoxicated blood, or they’re looking for informants. A few, like my worgen, go for an atmosphere most like home. My hunter goes because she gets ignored, and her anxiety requires as few people speak to her as possible.
Of all characters, the death knight Ashmaw is more likely to be found in a restaurant of some regard. The warlock he considers his ward is more likely to be someplace fancy, and if he’s anywhere it’d be because she’s there. Likely looming outside, and looking for threats, or making sure a dinner guest knows that touching Astoreth outside her permission means a frosty axe bifurcates the table.
…oh, wow. This is hard. I’m not even really sure how to quantify bottom (least fun? Most embarassing? Played in the worst games?) but finally settled on “Five Characters That Worked Way Better In My Head.” Because I’m prone to those.
Falls Seven Times. Red Talon… philodox, I think? Might have been ragabash. Either way: I fell in love with this weird Special Snowflake idea about a Red Talon (lupus, obv) who’d been orphaned as a cub and picked up by a rescue organization, so that when her first change happened and her tribe showed up to claim her she was like “What do you mean, kill all humans? These humans have been pretty cool to me,” which of course put her on the outs with her tribe and on the ins with… almost no one. Given that the vast majority of Werewolf characters struggle with coming to grips with their wolf side I was kinda trying to turn that on its side and it just didn’t work. I had fun while I played her but it’s no wonder she didn’t last.
K.C. Jackson. Malkavian, compulsive liar. I wrote a really cool story once (three-part, even!) about a teenager being stalked and ultimately Embraced, and I thought it would be fun to actually play this chica one day when I needed a new LARP character. Unfortunately, while K.C. in the stories was cool enough (at least in my head; I did write them when I was 18, and long ago lost them to a hard drive crash, so they were likely not near as good as I remember), the stories basically contained everything that was cool about her, and didn’t leave me with much to build on! Like a dismal film heralded by an amazing trailer made up of all the good parts, K.C. did not live up to my expectations.
Valia. Lost, and I don’t even remember her kith now. I liked Valia, mind you, and I liked the game I played her in; I liked the idea of the pawn rising through the ranks to seize power for herself. I liked the games/gamesmaster aesthetic I had going for her. I liked her as the tin knight in piecemeal/toy armor. But I think I tried to do too much with her? She never quite gelled the way I’d hoped. I still think she’s got a lot of potential in her, so she might see a revival someday, but she’d require a lot more work, and maybe just more time.
Tempre. Aurin spellslinger. Man she’s cute. Fucking adorbs. I still have her, cheery and adorable on my login screen. I liked the little touch of tragedy I gave her too. But I can’t figure out what the fuck I’m doing with her. She’s too many things at once, and has no focus… and I don’t really know how to give her one. So there she sits. Occasionally I go putter around with her house. Maybe I’ll figure out something for her eventually? But I think it’s more likely that by the time I figure out what I want to do with her, I might as well just roll another aurin…!
Solitaire. “Mortal-plus”; I wrote her up for stavier‘s Second Sight game as kind of a modern-day bard in that she could influence emotions with music (or speaking, but music was her preferred method). The idea was that we were all foster kids, so I based her mannerisms off a couple of girls I knew from high school (particularly one girl from choir who had the most gorgeous voice and eyes and perfect pitch but also major socialization issues) and so she ended up with a perfectly workable aesthetic but zero substance. I played through an opening story with her before trading her in for a teenage sorceress with different socialization issues but also personal ambition and family ties, and that was the best choice.
ALSO:
HONORABLE MENTION: Nathalie Dessoir. Not the Nat we see in GGBN today; the original Nathalie I made back in 1996 when I decided I needed a backup in case my Toreador met an untimely end (she didn’t) and I was at that point of new gamerdom where my head was full of delicious information and completely empty of common sense regarding how best to use it. I actually remember very little about Nathalie from back then except that she was a mess of a character. She was Ventrue, for one thing, and her sire (who’s name I don’t remember anymore — I actually stole the name Ian Ravenskirs from K.C.’s background and didn’t realize I’d mixed them up for four games) actually did Embrace her before getting killed by werewolves, because even though that didn’t make any logistical sense it was MOAR TRAGIC that way — and yet, her sire’s tragic death was little more than a blip on her emotional radar. She fought werewolves in an evening gown and heels because she also had to be gorgeous for no reason whatsoever. No pyrokinesis/Lure of Flame. No shades. No scars. She did have silver throwing knives sewn into her skirts — not that I gave her the proper skills to use them, mind you. Anyway, I ended up playing her for one game to try her out, and she didn’t fucking work. At all. She was awful. So I stuck her away and never quite forgot about her, and over the years I revisited the concept every time a Vampire game came up, and tweaked her a bit until I finally felt I got her right — only 18 years later. Not to say that she’s perfect; years of tiny tweaks may have fixed some problems but they created others (#1: By shifting timeline events around independently of each other I accidentally made Nat and Ian’s relationship way fucking creepier than intended and have been trying to quietly mitigate that damage since) — but overall, the Nat I’m playing today is the Nat I’ve really wanted to play for going on two decades now, and I’m really incredibly happy with the result. So there’s hope for even bad characters, I think, if you can find the good in them and work with it. And be hella patient.
FINALLY GETTING THESE COMMISSIONS DONE. I'm kinda' proud of my first attempt at a Tauren in 5+ years.
BEHOLD.
ASHMAW.
Ast's BFF and such a sad, sad bullbaby.
ashmaw
So the purpose of this meme is to give a little info on your muses without having to rely on others to fill your ask with meme questions. I know how disappointing it can be to come back to an empty ask so I wanted to create a meme that anyone and everyone can do (mun and muse). The rules are simple, you do not need to be tagged to fill out the questions, but once you have you must reblog and tag 10 of your followers to spread the love (as well as add a question of your own to the bonus section). You can fill it out as many times as your heart desires (we all know muses can change with their character development.)
8. What profession other than yours would you like to attempt?:
"I'd like to try Inscription, I think it would make sketching more interesting."
9. What profession would you not like to do?:
"Blacksmithing. I don't think I could even lift the hammer."
10. If heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the pearly gates?:
"They're waiting for you. Not that it matters: if there's a heaven, I won't be going there. When I arrive at the other place, hopefully I'll be greeted with, 'He's waiting for you' instead. Is that too optimistic?"
BONUS QUESTIONS:
1. Something most people don’t know about you?:
"I do my best to keep my professional and personal lives separate so hopefully most people don't know how I spend my evenings. Or with whom."
2. If you were one of the seven sins which would you be?:
"Wrath."
3. What are some notable merits and flaws?:
"I'm unstable. Socializing doesn't come easily for me. I have to hide my scars and it keeps me from experiencing a lot of things. I'll never wield the Light again. Merits have been difficult to think of but lately I've realized I have some. I am powerful. I sometimes feel beautiful. My worth will not be decided by other people."
4. Sexual Preference?:
“Moderation.”
5. What position do you sleep in?:
"Curled on my side. I tend to thrash in my sleep. Occasionally there's fire, but this is rare."
6. Favorite sexual position?:
"...on top."
7. If you could change one thing about your life, what would it be?:
"The trip."
8. Do you see yourself as good, or evil?:
"Evil. No matter how justified I feel in my pursuit of power and revenge, I know that I am no longer a good person."
9. Is there anyone, or anything you would die for?
"There might be. I hope I never have to find out.”
10. Do you find yourself attractive or not?
"Not before I met him. Now I know that I hold a certain appeal.”
11. What is your worst fear?
"That I've placed trust where I shouldn't and I'm walking into the same thing I burned my way out of."
12: How do you define respect?
"Silence that's more than just waiting for your turn to speak."
13. A guilty pleasure?
"Silk. I don't get to work with it often, but when I do... I make it count."
14: What do you desire most?
"I... I don't really know. As a student of certain arts, my answer should be 'to complete my training' but I don't want that at all. Maybe I desire to never be finished."
15: What can you never leave home without?
"My sketchbook."
16: Who do you look up to?
"My teacher, of course, but also Lady Firewing."
You had no recent prompt lists so I'm making my own. Ashmaw doesn't work for Monti, so there's no weird stigma about them dating (except the fact he's a Draken). Cassilda takes him to meet the family for the first time.
“Montgomeri, your daughter will be here ANY MINUTE now for dinner, would you stop cleaning your rifle? You’ll terrify the young man.”
“That’s the point, woman,” Monti muttered under his breath as he lifted the rifle and sighted along the barrel. He wasn’t picturing wild game at the other end of the scope, though, but rather the chiseled jaw of yet another foolish noble-born boy who was undeserving of his daughter. He liked his new son-in-law quite a bit more now that he was married to Camilla and not to Cassilda.
The newlyweds were still honeymooning and it was Cassilda who’d uncharacteristically suggested Family Dinner. When her mother asked - for the fifteenth time - whether she was bringing “anyone special” over, their oldest daughter had stunned them both by saying that yes, yes she was. She admitted that she’d been seeing someone for a few months now and wanted the rest of the family to meet them.
The doorchime tinkled airily and Vespa nearly dropped the centerpiece she was rearranging. “They’re here!”
“One assumes.” Montgomeri made no move to rise from the chair in front of the fireplace, his positioning was calculated. One foot was propped on the edge of the table, the table was covered in guns and gun-cleaning paraphernalia and he had a hunting rifle in hand. THIS was the first impression he intended to make - he had no intention of greeting this boy with a warm smile and a firm handshake.
Vespa puttered over to the door and opened it, smiling broadly. “Cassilda!” Air kisses were exchanged and Vespa moved aside to admit their eldest daughter. True to form, she was wearing something that must have been at the height of fashion these days: wide and impractical bell sleeves, an almost-modest V-Neck that didn’t make her father see red and he was pleased to see that her shoes were actually quite sensible.
He was somewhat confused when a Draken followed her into the house.
“Come on, now,” Montgomeri said with a laugh as he got to his feet, rifle held casually in one hand. “If we’re bringing the help in for dinner, Vespa, I should tell Xocoyol she can come in and not worry about frightening the boy. Speaking of which, where is he, Cassie?” Vespa, too, was still peering out the front door for any sign of Cassilda’s date.
Cassilda squared her shoulders and looked at her father. “Right here,” she said, keeping her voice surprisingly level. She reached over and linked arms with the Draken who towered beside her.
It was only now that Montgomeri bothered to give it- him - a second glance. Not nearly as imposing as other Draken he’d encountered - and he seemed surprisingly well-groomed. He was wearing, Monti realized suddenly, a button-up shirt and a tie that matched the color of Cassilda’s dress. The image would have made him laugh if his pulse wasn’t roaring in his ears.
“I am Ashmaw of Ironclan,” the Draken said, “And it is an honor to meet you both.” He offered a formal bow to Montgomeri - perfectly executed - and the hunter realized that the boy was holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand. These, he held out towards Vespa.
Dr. Yaza Wintermint was grading papers. Well, papers might not have been the precise term for the mostly-crayon-drawing-backwards-R-covered sheets piled before him. If one wanted to be technical, they weren’t even really on paper. There was no wood pulp to be found in the composition of the environmentally friendly sheets the school used. He considered them papers though, and that was what mattered. He took his job very seriously.
He was pondering over one child’s drawing of a dark cloudy sky when the voice piped up from the doorway. She sounded young, too old for one of his own students though, probably from one of the upper level classes … thus Yaza paid the voice little mind. “Professor Otro-Mundo’s office is down the hall.” It might have been petty, but he made special care not to call the other teacher by the moniker of doctor.
“Um… sorry, I’m looking for a Dr. Wintermint?” The mention of his name made him lift his head, red-toned eyes falling on the figure in the doorway. The red pen fell from his hand with a clatter, rolling under the desk.
She was… gorgeous. There was no other word for it. Well, maybe there were other words, in fact a few came to mind, but still. And she was definitely not a student. Wild red hair, fox-gold eyes… and a royal blue dress that was cut just low enough that her ample cleavage was quite obvious, and just high enough that he thought he could see the lace at the tops of her thigh highs.
“Uh…” His response spoke to his multiple PhD’s at work.
“Do…do you know where I can find him? I have an appointment. It’s about my daughter, Lyric.”
Yaza blinked, once, twice, then finally his senses (well, some tiny fraction of his sense anyway) came flooding back to him. “Right! You must be Mrs. Risingsun!” He felt a little like he had the time he’d drank an entire case of Red Rosdower in one sitting. His heart was racing.
“Miss,” she corrected him, and the teacher couldn’t help but inwardly smile at that fact. Somehow he managed to keep it off his face.
“I’m Dr. Wintermint… Yaza,” he somehow kept his eyes on the redhead’s face. Not lower. Not on the pale skin showing above her neckline, not at her long legs – made even longer by dangerously high heels, and certainly not at the swishing tail which mirrored the red (and apparent softness) of her hair and ears.
“Oh! Good,” the woman’s grin was infectious. Yaza found himself smiling back. “You can call me Vixyn,” she added.
There was a pause, and the teacher realized he was staring. “Oh! Sorry, uh, have a seat…” He tried to get up but his feet and tail and motor functions seemed to be all mixed up. Thankfully she found somewhere to sit on her own. Unfortunately that place happened to be the top of one of the desks. She definitely was wearing thigh highs, he noted.
“Is she causing problems for you?” Vixyn asked, her golden eyes flooded with concern. “She doesn’t mean to be bad…it’s just, moving around like we do … and with her father… well, it’s been hard for her.”
“Oh, no, she hasn’t been trouble. Really, quite the opposite,” he said quickly, noting the warm fuzzy sensation in his middle when Miss. Risingsun’s smile returned. “Lyric is really quite brilliant, it seems. But I’m worried she isn’t being challenged enough in the usual classes.”
Vixyn gave him a puzzled look. In fact, it was the sort of look that made him question whether the woman had even understood half the multisyllabic words he’d just spewed out. “Really?” she asked after an almost overly long pause. Again that smile bloomed across her face and Yaza found himself returning it.
“Really,” he said. “I was hoping you might be willing to enroll her in the after-school program we’re forming. If it’s a problem to come pick her up, I’m certain some of the other parents would be willing to car-pool.”
She tilted her head, that long soft-looking hair of hers spilling over her shoulder and drawing his attention for the briefest moment downward. She was gorgeous.
“If you need to think about it, that’s okay. We won’t be starting till the middle of next month. I just think it would be an excellent chance for her to explore other avenues of learning. We’ll have nature walks and the kids will have an opportunity to study ecology and botany…” he trailed off, noting that the puzzled look had returned. “Sorry… I think I started babbling there.”
“No! It’s okay!” the smile returned and she even bounced a little as she spoke. It was hell trying to concentrate on her face. “I think that’d be great! I’m not really sure what any of those things you mentioned are… echos and robots or something, but I think it’d be neat if she got to learn all that stuff!”
Yaza almost didn’t realize that the woman had spoken, he was so busy focusing on keeping his eyes on her lips as they moved. Anything but the bouncing, and he was very glad that he hadn’t tried again to stand. When the words did finally sink in though, they began to worm their way into an idea.
“That’s wonderful Miss…Vixyn,” he said, smiling broadly at her. And no, he really oughtn’t to . . but… He found himself continuing on. “It would be great also if you were able to work with her outside of school… I get that some of this stuff is kinda probably not stuff they covered when you were in school,” he made sure to put that as gently as possible so as not to make it sound as if he was suggesting she was dumb. “In fact, perhaps you wouldn’t mind discussing some of the subjects with me sometime. I can go over everything so you can help her out.”
“Oh! That would. . I’d love that!” She paused, looking worried a moment. “I don’t want to be a bother though… I mean… I’m sure you’re a very busy man…”
“No. . no it’s not a bother at all,” he assured her. Anything to get that sweet smile back. “I mean, I’m a person, I eat and drink and stuff… and if you wanted we could discuss it over maybe …dinner?”
And there it was. She beamed at him. “I’d love that Dr… I mean Yaza.” The way she wiggled to emphasize her happiness was almost too much. “Thank you so much for all of this.” For a moment he thought she might bound over and hug him. For a moment he thought he really wished she would.
Instead she just gave him that smile and stood, smoothing out the front of her short dress and adjusting it over the tops of her stockings. “I’ll let you get back to your grading now. You have my number.” She gave him one more look as she headed to the door, over her shoulder, and Yaza didn’t even mind the fact that she’d caught him staring. “Call me,” she said, and then she was gone.
He sat there for a good minute before he realized that his pink-haired co-worker was smirking at him from the doorway.
“You seriously just asked the mother of one of your students on a date?” Professor Otro-Mundo said. He didn’t really make it a question.
