#chavivah

[willowgust]

Chavivah Benesh - 5 GIFs

^ Aesthetic, knitting/embroidery hobbyist, “lovely” theme

^ Personality, her and Isaac once he moves out

^ Aesthetic, her faith, hope

^ Personality, theme, cooking

^ Darker side, undeath, resilience/willpower

[aranyaphoenix]

Can't Sleep! ~ Viv, Yun, Peia

VIV

“She’s so motherly. My own mother was so vain, prideful, self-absorbed, not like her.

Well, maybe not entirely selfless, she does have a few petty flaws, but the commonplace sort, nothing as deep as my mother’s were.”

YUN

“I miss that adorable furball. He’s sweet…

I didn’t even have to ask Sorrenan to fix the shackle-scars on my wrists with blood magic.

I should see him again.”

PEIA

“She was right… Maybe she was meant to be my sister, heh.

A’dal, don’t allow her to be harmed by doing anything too drastic for me. I’m careless, she’s selfless. I deserve to burn in my own fire, first.”

@willowgust @illsufferdear @whalecarver @beamgully

[willowgust]

44. What’s one thing they wish they could do more often, but can’t? - for any/all!

Seo-yun grinned and raised his paws. There was a glint of pining in his eyes before they closed, a warm reverie flashing behind them. His twiddling fingers imitated the strike of piano keys. They glided side to side for a moment, and then his eyes reopened. A once wistful expression fell into a forlorn stare at the bandages suffocating his arms and chest. Glancing back up at the visitor, he gave a defeated shrug.

The undead woman in the cot beside him offered a reassuring smile. “Maybe soon, Seoyun,” Chavivah said.

Seo-yun returned it with a small nod.

(( Thanks, @turning-through-the-never! ))

[willowgust]

What the Horde Scum Did

The metallic clamor of Ironforge sang through the corridor stretching past Qaradoc’s stone porch, drenched in the smell of rust and earth. In his weathered chair, he settled a cobblestone with a thousand-mile daze. It wasn’t quite pensive, but thoughtful. Peaceful. A curt puff of smoke billowed from his lips. He stared into the polished bowl of his pipe. It was running out.

Throrim sat on the floor sharpening his axe, his beard still damp from his last drink of mead. "Qar old friend. I dunnae know how ye survived as ye did. But ye did, and tha' pincer made a noice tropheh." He nodded up to the fireplace inside where a large silithid hung, polished to a bright sheen.

A thin-lipped smirk tugged Qaradoc's face. "Don't be coy. I'd be popping clogs if you hadn't dragged my sorry arse to that lovely... What was that nurse's name? Sandra?" He glimpsed through the door at the manicured carapace. It was probably the nicest gift anyone had given him. "It does rather spruce up the mantelpiece, doesn't it?"

"Ain't one for interior decoratin'," Throrim chuckled, resting his freshly sharpened axe against the wall and taking another sip of his mead, drying his lips with his beard. "So wha did ya need me here for?"

"Ah!" Qaradoc perked with one last cloud of smoke. He set his pipe on the stone armrest. "Yes, I was wondering, how much do you know about Ironforge pests? I'm not certain of what mind you, but I seem to be getting some unwelcome guests in the kitchen, and I can't be sure what sort I may be deali--" Qaradoc froze suddenly. His attention was locked on something.

Throrim stroked his beard in thought about the different pests of the place, and between the rats and roaches they could be up for a tussle. "I dunnae kn... what are ye lookin' at lad?" He peered over toward his friend's point of view.

The monk blinked. They were still approaching him. His mouth parted as he slowly rose from his seat. The normally stoic Gilnean looked like Uther’s ghost was delivering him a pie on a unicycle.

Three young dwarves beamed at him from the corridor. “Oye, Master Taliesin!” a ginger-bearded man barked. “We’re back! There better be enough o’ those cigars fer all of us!” 

Everything in his chest tingled with the astonished joy he’d given up on feeling weeks ago. 

Throrim blinked at the dwarflings. "Well well, wasn't expectin' a party ya old coot." He stood with a brush of his beard and a low bow. "Evenin' lads. Name's Throrim Stoneframe." He grinned, leaning back against the wall. "What's all this with your skin fadin', weren't expecting company?"

Qaradoc shook his head at him. Before he could allow a knot to form in his throat or a sting to offend his eyes, he smoothed his expression to a blank gape. “I most certainly was not. These are Pydilgri’s nephews and niece - not sure if you recall my mentioning her. I thought they were pronounced dead back on Argus." 

"Pleasure meetin' ya, Mr. Stoneframe!" the same nephew exclaimed. "I'm Omn, that's Raggyn, and this is Dandarian," he pointed respectively. 

"How in blazes are you all still alive?” he muttered in disbelief. 

The question bore instant sobriety to their faces, slowing their climb up the porch stairs. Of course, it was a question they should have expected, but that didn’t make the reminder of their escape any less unpleasant. Dandarian hesitated. She pulled at the sandy-brown foxtail cascading over her shoulder before stepping forward. Her brothers slumped in gratitude as she accepted the burden.

“Yer, uh...” She huffed an awkward chuckle. It was shattered by a frown. “I dunnae if yer gonna believe it, Qaradoc. Or approve. It was...” Dandarian swallowed. All of them carried a vague sense of fear, shame even. Their eyes latched onto Qaradoc’s face, his posture, as though uncertain of a scolding. 

Qaradoc found himself disliking how ‘sheepish’ looked on them. It was making him nervous. 

“Well, we were critically wounded,” she said finally, “but two healers arrived and covered us so we could retreat.”

Throrim nodded as he listened, smiling as he realized the origins of these young ones. "Good old Alliance, sending healers in after the kids." He remembered his time on Argus fondly. Though his words only seemed to make the three fidget more uncomfortably. 

Qaradoc's forehead creased. “As much of a miracle as this surely was, that doesn’t sound so appalling,” he remarked. 

“We were... we were saved by a Pandaren wavespeaker.” 

There was an unimpressed pause. “...Is there an ‘and’?” 

Dandarian braced herself. “And a Forsaken priestess.”

Throrim choked on his mead. "For fooks sake lads. I'm surprised they didn't take you out themselves!" He cleared his throat and waited to hear Qaradoc’s response. 

Qaradoc said nothing. He went pale.

Raggyn took a defensive step to stand beside her, "Just--let me explain," he started.

"I'll get more mead." Throrim waddle-limped to the kitchen.

---

The Legion-painted sky was littered in planet debris. A broken horizon curved up at an eldritch angle. Azeroth’s breathtaking, marble-esque colors churned slowly across the stars; both a reminder of hope and a cruel mockery to those still on Argus’ sundered remains.

Bright felfire streaked above two figures fleeing for their lives - one blubbery, and one frail. They dashed behind a violet boulder. 

Seo-yun and Chavivah paused to clutch their knees. The shaman heaved rattled breaths, peering expectantly down at Chavivah through his scruffy mop of hair. 

She glanced at the edge of the boulder, and let out an exasperated sigh of relief. The eloquently patterned barricades of Light protecting the camp pulsated several yards away. “Oye,” she droned, “thank the Light.” Chavivah stood upright. “Catch your breath and for the last time we’ll run.”

He nodded, his deep panting beginning to fade. Practically tasting the stench of charred sulfur was proving to be an effective motivator.

Chavivah settled a sullen gaze across the wastes. It took seconds for her to spot a trio of dwarves in the distance, desperately fending off an onslaught of demons. They were losing. One of them howled as a blade buried into his shoulder.

The pallid embers in her eye sockets narrowed.

Straightening his egg-shaped torso upright, Seo-yun prepared to signal his readiness, but stopped. Chavivah seemed distracted. His caterpillar brows knitted as he veered to get a better view of her face.

She looked overcome.

In both slow motion and breakneck speed, her veins were frozen lightning, her body was lead, and her heart was falling glass. She watched as a fel axe screeched towards her grown baby’s neck. He was too far for her to prevent it. 

He could still be at home if she’d nagged harder. If he’d become a doctor or an alchemist or a farmer. If she had just caught him leaving for the Isles in time to stop him. All she could think were two blaring words, reducing the core of her being to shredded tissue: “I failed.” Her son, the warlock. Killed in front of his poor mother.

'Too far away’ her decaying tuches! In a blind frenzy she flung back her arm to prepare a shielding spell. Before it could snap back out--

THUD. 

Isaac winced. The axe was buried into a shield. The dwarven warrior it belonged to gave a ruffian grunt as her foot kicked out the felguard’s knee. He buckled. She yanked the axe from her wooden buckler. Her orange pigtails whipped back as she threw it into his chest. The demon went limp. 

Retrieving her blood-soaked weapon, the middle-aged shield maiden marched up to Isaac with three younger dwarves in tow. There was a younger woman with a long braid, a man with a weaved beard as fiery as her hair, and another, whose blond, Van Dyke brush strew loose over his robes.

Isaac was too shaken to move. Pydilgri glared. Turning away from him with a scoff, they stomped up to Chavivah, warily steadfast. The four of them bore a family resemblance.

Pydilgri wasn’t sure if she already regretted it or not. Then she saw the petrified gratitude on Chavivah’s face. 

She expected instant, bitter envy - that was the face she deserved years ago. Her son should have been saved, not this undead demon-caller! But that wasn’t what she felt. Even if it would last for meager seconds, she realized she was living through her. And it was intoxicating. The priestess's expression was so powerful, she could taste her out-of-body deliverance from grief, feel her shock, her reverence, the manner by which she would now consciously cherish him.

Her glowing orbs shuddered. If they were capable, they would be crying. “I--” Chavivah choked. “How to thank you, I can’t begin to say.”

“...Don’t go tellin’ anyone, ya deader,” Pydilgri muttered gruffly, before she and her brother’s children stormed off.

A paw landed on Chavivah’s bony shoulder. With some concern, Seo-yun gestured to the distant camp with a jerk of his head.

Chavivah turned to look back at him. The profound weight of her stare chilled him. Her head finally gave a slight shake inside her cowl.

“...No.”

Time crawled as he watched Chavivah burst out from behind the boulder, her cloak and robes blooming out in a wild flutter. Her gaunt form evanesced, half-visible, in a brief attempt to remain unseen. Seo-yun’s confused panic evaporated when he saw what she raced towards. He discovered the same grim tenderness she wore on his own face.

He knew then. He knew that he and Chavivah were about to die. Black claws tightened around his Moa’ki spear. The lumbering Pandaren bounded after her, his trinkets clacking violently over his leathers.

Raggyn, the blonde mage, wheezed in a shallow puddle of blood. His siblings grunted in fervor as they tried to dodge the demon’s blades. CLANG-- Dandarian’s eyes went wide with a gasp. She held her side, stumbled back a few steps, and fell. Blood gushed from the torn plate onto her hands. 

Omn quaked with a vengeful roar. He ignored the broken arm that flailed behind him as he flung his axe at the wrathguard’s chest. The demon sidestepped. His new momentum hastened his raised sword. SSHHHINK-- “AAAUUGH!!” He launched Omn backwards, who landed with an agonized skid beside Dandarian. The Eredar scholar poised herself to finish them off. A ball of sickly felfire erupted between her hands. She hurled it.

The dwarves grimaced. They heard it land with a smoldering blast. Nothing else happened. Their eyes peeled back open.

Remnants of felfire tumbled over a dome of Light. A Forsaken priestess gritted her teeth in pain, her arms quaking to sustain the shield. 

Seo-yun plodded to her side and aimed his spear, grizzled and determined.

The dwarves gaped at them. 

“No, no!” Chavivah snapped. “Heal them, you fish-smelling shlemiel!”

Seo-yun blinked dumbly. He reached his spear over his shoulder to holster it, then jerked his paw skyward. A totem ornamented in blue surged from the earth. Gushes of water, magically shimmering in sunny light, swelled from nowhere onto the dwarves. The glittery deluge poured over each of their wounds. With every wave that poured over them, their gashes mended further, then further...

Forcing a spare hand, Chavivah reached into one of her pockets and threw something at them. “Here, catch!”

Omn snatched it instinctively from the air, still wincing from the residual pain. He peered down at it. It was a gold pocket watch. 

“If we don’t make it,” Chavivah shouted, “be sure this gets to Isaac Benesh, my son. You promise?”

Dandarian’s throat felt dry. Raggyn’s mouth twisted as a sting formed in his eyes. Omn was glued onto the watch nestled in his hand, silent as the Forsaken’s sacrifice really began to sink in. “Aye lass,” the sister murmured, unable to say anything more.

“Good answer. Seo-yun,” Chavivah shot a glimpse over her shoulder, “are they good to run?”

Seo-yun flounced his scrutiny over their injuries. They weren’t completely healed, but it was good enough for them to run back to camp. He lowered his arms while his totem wriggled back into the ground. Then he gave a nod.

“All right, run back-- and don’t you destroy your mother’s heart by dying! Now gay avek!!”

Heaving themselves up, the dwarves stared at her, dumbfounded. Raggyn mustered the stomach to speak up, “B-but what aboot--”

“GAY AVEK, I SAID!” Chavivah bellowed, pointing a jagged, clawed finger. “GO! GO ALREADY, GO!”

They ran. In a whirlwind of thrashing limbs, wounded bodies, and sobs, they tore across the remaining stretch of battlefield.

Omn, Raggyn, and Dandarian managed to fumble behind the glowing barricades untouched. Barely able to see them anymore, Raggyn turned to a group of Draenei galloping to retrieve them. 

His eyes were raw with tears by the time a gloriously armored paladin knelt to his level. “Let’s get you--” 

“P-please,” Raggyn blubbered out. “Someone has ta get ‘em. Please...!”

The paladin knitted her brows. “Who?”

The shield atrophied into nothing. Seven demons stared the pair down. Chavivah faced him, her illuminated gaze soft. “Seo-yun...” Gratitude and heartache did not begin to describe the way she said his name.

Seo-yun gazed back. For the first time since they began working together, months ago, he actually spoke. 

“Family is worth dyin’ for, Chavivah.”

Her decayed lips quivered into a small smile.

The demons charged. Seo-yun grabbed his spear, a chorus of totems bursting beside his feet. A bubble of Light wobbled over him, then herself. Chavivah lowered into a fiendish pose with her claws erect. Tentacles of dark, celestial Void lashed out beside his totems.

The last thing the dwarves saw before being dragged off was an exploding flurry of spells.

---

Throrim had come back with his mead about halfway through the story, mouth agape and a freshly wetted beard. He couldn't believe his ears.

Qaradoc was stone. He gave a quiet sigh. “Only half-decent Horde I’ve ever heard of and they wind up pushing daisies.”

“Actually we just heard they survived,” Omn said. “They’re bein’ treated in Dalaran.” He dug into a pocket and revealed the watch. There was a brief reverent pause when he glanced down at it. “We were plannin’ on visiting ‘em to return this. Lucky fer this Isaac lad, there’s no reason to give this thing to ‘im.”

"Ye lads are expectin' us tae believe that ya were rescued by some horde fookers... Well I never thought I'd see the fookin' day." Shaking his head he looked at Qaradoc. "Well ya git. We escortin' them or wha?"

Qaradoc fixated on the watch for a long time. He couldn’t move. His neck shifted as though he had literal trouble swallowing. Hardened by a demanding thirst for answers, he cast a resolved stare on his cherished survivors.

“...May we come with you?”

Throrim trotted off upstairs to find his gear. "Well that settles that dunnit?"

Special thanks to @commander-dawnstriker who played as his muse, Throrim. Any writing about Throrim belongs to him.

If you’re interested in following my other toons: Chavivah: @illsufferdear Seo-yun: @whalecarver Qaradoc: (no tumblr yet, but there will be one soon!)

Thanks for reading!

[willowgust]

Schism

(( Referencing the recent story We Are Still Here ))

~Music~

Two weeks ago, the Yibbish temple was solemn. It was a throng of restrained anger, awkward glares, and indignant fidgeting. But it was quiet.

Now a few hundred screaming matches roared across the canopies, an overwhelming din that reverberated the dingy walls. High Priest Finklestein lurched over the podium bellowing for order, but his efforts were fruitless.

“Loyal always, indebted forever. THAT’S WHAT WE SAID.”

“That was before she went meshuggah and burned the WORLD TREE. We helped the damned Alliance defend that old stump and she does what to it? Is her army no better than the Scourge?!”

“She must have had a good reason! Maybe it had to be done.”

“HAD TO BE DONE?! THAT is what this temple is for? Those were hundreds of innocent lives and she’d already won!! How was that necessary?!”

“Never mind that-- it’s the WORLD TREE! That goes kaput, there’ll be no world left to fight on!”

“Look I don’t like it, no one does, but it’s war. Maybe we shouldn’t have gotten so angry with the desecrating of Silithus’ wound - we need that Azerite or they will destroy us like everyone always has!”

“WHAT AM I HEARING?!”

“Bubkes!! One, we had every right to be angry - that was terrible and the goblins are absolute schmucks for starting it. Two, and more importantly, our planet is dying!! Now the World Tree burns so it’s dying faster.”

Chavivah turned an exhausted stare to Joseph, who had since slumped over. He looked at her. She gave an acceding nod. Slowly, the High Priest drifted away from the podium. Step, by step, he ascended down the steps of the scaffold, wading into the swarm.

“We can’t abandon our warchief because she makes one egregious mistake!”

“That is how you feel? So you wore a Kor’kron uniform?”

“How dare you!! That was different!”

“How?”

“That schmuck was corrupted by Old Gods. The Dark Lady isn’t. He made several mistakes to serve himself, and she made one trying to do what was best for the Hor--”

“ONE MISTAKE?! What does it matter if she’s muddled with Old God corruption? She slaughtered countless civilians and destroyed the World Tree, and for what? Because she felt like it? They won, they were demoralized, and the tree was ready for capture like she wanted. So what strategy was there in destroying it?”

“Exactly! What reason was there to kill so many? What reason was there to destroy something important to this whole planet? There was none! One emotional outburst from one warchief, and hundreds of innocent people are dead with another wound on Azeroth. She is crazy!”

“She can’t be crazy, and if she is crazy it doesn’t matter. The other Forsaken gentiles need us! If we abandon her, we abandon them! Some of us have loyalties stronger than a piece of wet parchment.”

His trudging advance continued, heavy, measured, toward the center of the temple. No one noticed. Step... step... step...

“No one’s saying we should do that--”

“--I am!”

“--Shut up! No one’s going to let our own innocents go unprotected, but this is wrong!”

“So what should we do? Turn our backs on the leader who liberated us?”

“She’s NOT the Dark Lady who once saved us! She’s changed a long time ago! Remember Southshore? Enough is enough, This is not who we are!”

"Q U I E T !!”

It was over before anyone knew what happened. A dome of blue light exploded from him, the bottom of his decorated staff rammed onto the floor. Groans bled through the abrupt silence. The Yibbish worshipers hauled their upper-bodies from the grungy tile they suddenly found themselves strewn upon. They were spared of injury, but not shock.

The High Priest’s nostrils flared with a heated breath. “The Yibbish faith officially denounces the Dark Lady’s actions yesterday. We are Yibbish first and Forsaken second. This has always been true. No one stops you from choosing to follow the Horde warchief. Choose to do so, why not, but on your volition. However!” he added quickly, before another burst of outrage could spurt from someone’s mouth. “We will protect our Forsaken brothers and sisters should they be attacked. They’re of the same unmoving blood. We will also help our cousins in Kalimdor. Do as you choose. Be guided by the Light and Shadow inside each of you.

“Now leave. This is a place of worship and respectful discussion, not a mad house. All of you! Don’t come back until you can be a civil mob.”

---

They shuffled out from the temple doors with their heads lowered. The cloak of dusk become dotted by the eerie flicker of a hundred moon-yellow eyes.

For a cluster of zombies shambling in the night, this was a jarring contrast to expectation. They looked pensive. Shaken. Dejected, even. It was as if this throng of undead was scuffling out of a group therapy session, after their justifiably fed-up counselor finally put their foot down and gave a firm speech about them needing to work on themselves.

Chavivah and her adult son exchanged glances.

“We’re not going back home tonight, are we?” Isaac asked, already knowing the answer.

“You’re going home,” Chavivah insisted with iron in her tone.

“But ma--”

“No buts!! On Argus I almost lost you. Not again. We will go to Undercity, and I'll schlep you on my carpet to the Shrine of the Two Moons portal. Then from the kite service, for you I’ll schlep us the 40 miles to our house in the Valley,” her voice lilted in droned italics. “and for you I’ll tuck you in, and make your breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the next two days, before I put in an order for the grocery delivery service for the next few weeks. Then I’ll fly the 40 miles back to the kite service, back to the portal and to Undercity I’ll go back to help the others keep watch.”

“Ma--”

“It’s all right dear, for you it’s no trouble. I’ll make brisket, you’ll love it.”

Isaac fell silent, fully aware there was no point in arguing. He cast his face away from her to safely roll his eyes.

[willowgust]

Mamme’s Secrets

(( Continuation from the first prompt ))

Select a single gif depicting a secret your character has that few, if any, know. Give zero explanation, be mysterious. Please tag me so I can read them. Here we go!

Chavivah Benesh

Tagged By: @safrona-shadowsun

Tagging: I already tagged a bunch so hey, just do it if you want to. :>

[willowgust]

Supper with Chavivah

► Name ➔  “Chavivah Benesh.” ► Are you single ➔  She gapes at the interviewer, then shoots an incredulous glare at an invisible audience. “So this schlemiel with all the questions asks the widower - who feeds him - if she’s single! Feh! Let’s hope they’re only trying to sell something.” ► Are you happy ➔ Chavivah withers a sigh, “Ohh... Maybe I should be. The doctor says I’m recovering well, but our planet? A good way to make some gelt for sure, but this cost I don’t like.” ► Are you angry? ➔  “You bet your fresh hot soup I’m angry! --Here, would you like--” her spoon pours another helping into the interviewer’s bowl before they can protest-- “some more dear? Anyway, Silithus was the birthplace of our faith and some big fiery putz with a big stick does what to it?! Oh but see! That wasn’t bad enough. Then the land of our sacred traditions starts bleeding and the whole planet is in on it for cash. So yes! Yes I’m angry! Almost everyone I know is angry!” ► Are your parents still married ➔ Despite not having to breathe, Chavivah sedates herself with a big huff of air and deflates. Her angst is replaced with a wry smirk. “Somehow the phrase ‘’til death do you part’ doesn’t hold the weight it used to. Who knows? Somewhere they might still be.”

NINE FACTS

► Birth Place ➔  “Stratholme.” ► Hair Color ➔  She briefly hustles to the kitchen, her voice echoing from inside. “Oye... I don’t know, zombie light brown. I’m no good at making up colors.” ► Eye Color ➔  “Well they used to be brown, when I had them. A glow still counts, maybe?” Chavivah returns with another lush platter of food, which she gingerly places in front of the interviewer’s setting. “Gold?” she shrugs. ► Birthday ➔  “September 12th.” ► Mood ➔  “Oh... don’t worry over that, dear.” ► Gender ➔ She freezes, leering at her guest. They couldn’t have possibly asked what she thought they had. “...Oh-- I’m sorry. I must have misheard you. What was that?” ► Summer or winter ➔ “Ah! All right then. Summer. Summer is lovely.” She finally sits down, but her candlelight eyes flick persistently at his food. Chavivah looks ready to spring the moment he has less than five slices of bread. ► Morning or afternoon ➔ “What does it matter? I’ll be busying myself with something to keep Isaac comfortable. If only every now and then he’d say thank you to his mother. Who loves him.”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

► Are you in love ➔  “Oh, I’m well beyond that now.” ► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔ She glances at the door to the basement, where her son is likely dwelling. “That depends. Is she Yibbish?” ► Who ended your last relationship ➔  Chavivah’s expression plummets into a dark frown. “A little thing called the Cult of the Damned. Feh! An affair I might have preferred!” ► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ “Well I’ll tell you one thing that’s guaranteed to break a heart - not calling your mother after you move.” ► Are you afraid of commitments ➔  “You ask that question a little late.” ► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ “No,” she replies pointedly, and slightly louder so her voice might carry down the basement stairs. “It’d be lovely to have a hug, but it’s all right. It’s not too important.” ► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ “Oh, well," Chavivah smiles sheepishly. Had blood still pumped through her veins, she might have turned pink. “That’s how my late husband and I met, at the deli where I worked.” ► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔  Immediately sobered by the question, she releases her trademark sigh. “Every Forsaken has done that.”

SIX CHOICES

► Love or lust ➔ “Why love, of course! Lust comes after marriage, when you’re in your 30′s and have a doctorate.” ► Cats or Dogs ➔  “Cats.” ► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔ “A few best friends are good to have, but a community - that is what everyone needs. That is what holds people together.” ► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ “Isaac goes out sometimes. But it’s all right. He can go out with his friends. I don’t mind staying at home...” ► Day or night ➔  “I enjoy the daytime, for the songbirds. Some things from my old life still give me comfort.”

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

► Been caught sneaking out ➔  “Me? Oh, never!” ► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔  “Once, and knitting needles I was carrying at the time - how scary that was!” ► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔  Chavivah pauses. Siiiigh™. “Ohh, I suppose, but... It’s all right, it doesn’t matter.” ► Wanted to disappear ➔ “Become one of those specters is what you mean? My skillet, I would hold onto how?”

FOUR PREFERENCES

► Smile or eyes ➔  “Eyes are temporary. Smiles can last forever.” ► Shorter or Taller ➔  “Taller men are what I preferred.” ► Intelligence or Attraction ➔  “Well, from my experience, you keep only one.” ► Hook-up or Relationship ➔  “Hook-ups?! Is that what’s keeping him from giving me a daughter-in-law?”

FAMILY

► Do you and your family get along ➔ “Isaac and I are all that’s left. Sometimes he’ll stomp all over his mother’s heart, but regardless I love him. Words don’t describe how I love him.” ► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ “...This, you call life?” ► Have you ever ran away from home ➔ “As a girl? Only once did I make that mistake.” ► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔  “No, as long as I schlepped my part.”

FRIENDS

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ “Hate? No, but, all these hours I slave over a hot stove and their dinner they won’t finish? The local pandaren ask for 6th helpings! Now that, that is a guest! By the way are you almost done with all the asking? You barely touched your soup! Keep this up and like me you’ll look like! Please, eat!” ► Do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ “Maybe if more time I had to see them.” ► Who is your best friend ➔  “Joseph Finklestein, if I had to choose.” ► Who knows everything about you ➔ “My son may know more about me than I’d like.”

Tagged by: @abraaxas Tagging: Anyone who hasn’t already done it! <33

[willowgust]

Chavivah, since we used to raid together and that's the one I know :P

🌟 Drop one of my characters’ names in my inbox and I’ll tell you 10 facts about them 🌟 

Chavivah Benesh

🌟 - She died when she was 52, but if she were still alive she’d be in her mid-sixties. 

🌟 - If she were in Harry Potter, she’d be a Slytherin frequently mistaken for a Hufflepuff.

🌟 - She gets wistful around song birds. In life she loved listening to them. Hearing them now sends her tumbling into a fond reminisce.

🌟 - Chavivah will have a fresh sandwich and knitted sweater (or spare jacket) ready for you. It doesn’t matter where you are. She found a way.

🌟 - As much as she enjoyed being a housewife and mother, sometimes Chavivah wishes that she had a higher education so she could pursue similar accomplishments to her children. And it’d be nice to learn new things.

🌟 - If it feels like Chavivah is treating you like her own child, she probably is. Helping others is an escape for her, and it fills the void left behind by her actual children who passed away.

🌟 - Her birthday is September 12th. She’s a Virgo.

🌟 - Her talents include bird watching, cooking/baking, sewing, embroidery, and folk dancing. She’s not very good at music, acting, drawing, science, or math.

🌟 - Her element would be earth.

🌟 - She has an orange tabby named Sunshine. 

Thanks @serisolari! I haven’t gotten an ask in a while, so that meant a lot. :>