WELP! OC wheel landed on Jules, which should make this interesting in that I haven't talked about or wrote about her in a while. But anyway! Here we go.
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What uncommon/common fear do they have?
I imagine her biggest fear, common or not, is that she'll never get back home and will be trapped on earth forever
Do they have any pet peeves?
Some days everything everyone does is a pet peeve, lol
What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?
Well. She doesn't really have one. But if she did, you'd find her big-ass sword, bells, and probably some fairy lights
What do they notice first in a person?
How useful they'll be to her master plan (mwahahaa)
On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance?
Off the scale. She's basically a hologram powered by magic, which means if she doesn't want to feel pain she just...doesn't.
Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? (I'm also including freeze and fawn)
Fight. Always fight. She doesn't even have to be under pressure, she just has to be annoyed
Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?
She does, and she is not. Not for herself, and also many of the younger ones in her family are downright scared of her for perfectly legitimate reasons lol
What animal represents them best?
I'm not sure...maybe one of those fish that live in the Twilight Zone of the ocean? Thin. Transparent. Otherworldly. Look like creatures from a nightmare.
What is a smell that they dislike?
Sweat
Have they broken any bones?
Nope. But she doesn't exactly have any bones unless she wants to have bones so I imagine if she had bones and one broke she would just will the bone fixed or gone. Something like that
How would a stranger likely describe them?
Depends on which stranger and what she needs from them. The ones she needs something from would probably describe her as charismatic, alluring, seductive. The ones that are in her way would describe her as cold, menacing, and AAAaaaa-
Are they a night owl or an early bird?
Yes lol. She doesn't really need to sleep so those distinctions don't really apply to her
What is a flavour they hate and a flavour they love?
She doesn't really eat, but she does like coffee. Just plain black.
Do they have any hobbies?
Not really, she's fairly focused on her mission
Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises?
She does not like them, or birthdays tbh lol. She'd either run or she'd stab someone
Do they like to wear jewelry?
Yup, especially ones that she makes herself
Do they have neat or messy handwriting?
Neat. Very neat
What are the two emotions they feel the most?
Anger and Disgust probably. Mad at being separated from her home and disgust at human behavior
Do they have a favorite fabric?
Whatever fabric is silky smooth and durable
What kind of accent do they have?
I don't think she has one 😅 If she does it's on purpose which means that it changes depending on the situation.
No pressure tags below the cut! Also empty questions for c/p purposes!
For the OC of your choice: how do they react to being sick? What are their comfort foods, habits, etc…
The OC wheel fell on Jules, SO:
Honestly I feel like if she got sick she would make it everyone else's problem, lol. She would silently rage. She'd get even more passive-aggressive. She wouldn't rest until her body started to literally shut down and then she'd be mad about it. She'd use magic to make her body stop being sick and suffer (and give a middle finger to) the consequences. She...doesn't like anything that stands in the way of her goals, being sick included. And she would be in intense stubborn denial about it.
Tagged by @mysticstarlightduck (here) and @theeccentricraven (here)! Thanks!
Rules: Share nine lines from your story and tag nine people
Ooh, the OC wheel has fallen on Jules. Haven't had anything with her for a while, so here's nine lines from Rod's story where they try to. Um. Work things out.
"You want what?" Jules asked, drawing me back to our conversation. Her soulless black eyes stared at me in complete passive boredom, flicking down to the cell in my hand before going back up to my face.
"You heard me," I answered, putting the phone away. "I want to make a deal." A slow, patronizing smile spread across her face. "And what could you offer to me, little thief?"
"In exchange for your sword, I can offer you a way home."
Her smile fell into a frozen line as a look of feigned annoyance crossed her face. "Nice try, darling,” she sighed, flicking some hair over a bony shoulder as she folded her arms. “The portals were sealed a long time ago. No one can open them these days. Not even you."
Gentle tagging! (so it's more than nine people but at the same time I tried to narrow it lol)
I figured it's about time to lay down some basic info about my ocs. In the very least, the ones I talk about the most 😂
Kashi
Full name is Nesa-Ipokashipoke, “No-path, Wanderer of Moons” in Aanmon, her home language. She's from a planet of shape-shifters that consider themselves "two-skins" after they meet others that don't shape shift. She appears human due to something that roughly translates to 'Starmask'. She got to our planet accidentally but isn't super keen on going back home.
[Picrew/Images] - [Playlist] - [Snippets]
Rod
Magician. Theif. Trickster. Imp. Part human, part something else. You can kill him all you want, but he'll keep coming back until he gets what he's after. He has very few friends (and most of them are sorta frenemies). He's an asshole and a good guy all in one. And he's got as many secrets as he does lives.
[Picrew/Images] - [Playlist] - [Snippets]
Jules
A mix of solid and fluid parentage, Jules merely wants to open the portals between our world and hers...and she's willing to destroy our world if that'll accomplish our goals. Now, she knows that's a last line, but it doesn't matter. She'll do what she has to in order to go home.
[Picrew/Images] - [Playlist] - [Snippets]
Becks
Half earth sprite, half human. She constantly walks the line between the two, constantly made aware of the dangers of her mere existence. Becks, as she is, is the latest version of herself and has many versions of herself scattered throughout the years, nomad to captive, hero to villain. Chain her and she will use the chains as a weapon, confine her and she will kick the walls as many times as it takes to escape, take away what she holds dear and she will burn the world to get it back.
[Picrew/Images] - [Playlist] - [Snippets] - [More full intro]
Lyra
High-blood (Nobel, princess, I'm still working on the actual term) of a series of islands on her planet. She comes from a planet of what we would call elves (the planet is named Elkien, so they call themselves Elken/Elks but the ‘k’ sound sounds move like a ‘v’ in their native tongue to explain the whole Elken/Elvin thing). Antlers, wings, pointed ears that swivel and wiggle. She's always a fan of chaos, swears in her own language because she thinks it's funny (especially if no one knows what it means) and isn't above using her horns to headbutt others when the moment calls for it. Charismatic, driven, a little bit loud. Loyal.
Hah, I forgot I wrote this. Trying to clean out my hard drive and found this tucked away. Enjoy. 😁
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WC: 1603
Summary: Jules is 'suffering' the consequences of her misdeeds. And apparently being bored out of her mind while being forced to wait in café for her ride is one of the consequences. Good thing she's got someone she can easily annoy in the meantime.
“Why did you come to me, Hansel?” I asked, tipping my head slightly as I stared at him. He glanced up at me for a second then back down at his coffee, continuing to scribble.
“I was on assignment,” he answered. “I told you that.”
I shook my head, letting my fingers hover over the steam wafting into the air. “That’s not it, darling, and we both know it by now. Let’s not play games.”
With a sigh, he set his pen down, folded his hands, and looked back up at me over the rims of his glasses. “Alright. Let’s talk true. Why were you down in the Keeper archives?”
I blinked, only mildly taken off-guard. “I tore off the doors and descended to the file room. Only an idiot could think I wasn’t after information.”
“Call me an idiot then,” he said with a short smile. “You could have gotten that information someplace else, from someone else. You didn’t need to raid the Sanctuary for it...and you certainly didn’t need to announce your presence by starting a riot.”
A smile creased the side of my mouth. I wrapped a hand around the edge of the mug and leaned ever so slightly forward. “You know, I can’t tell if you’re very smart or very dumb.”
“Cheeky,” he answered. “Some people would call me cheeky.” He gave a short shrug. “Not now, of course, and not you. But others have called me that and worse.”
“I notice you still didn’t answer.” I gave him time to consider through a sip of the black bean-water humans love, his eyes rolling over words for a moment.
“Well,” he finally sighed, adjusting his glasses, “tit for tat. You don’t answer my questions and I won’t answer yours.” With that he flashed me a little smile and picked up his pen. The little scritch-scritch-scritch of the tip scarring ink into the paper filled the space in the same energy as a loudly-clicking clock, despite the hum of human activity buzzing around us.
I shifted slightly enough to get an eye on the iron shackle subtly wrapped around my ankle, a thin silver chain leading from the cuff to a copper loop around his belt. Hanging underneath the loop was a small signet depicting two golden scales inset into a copper circle; a sign of his station in life, apparently. As if the white robe-like jacket wasn’t enough of a tip-off, the signet was supposed to mark his ill-gotten authority over non-human lives, those who dubbed themselves “Keepers” as in ‘Keepers-of-the-law-we-made-up-to-separate-humans-and- non-humans-forever-and-ever-more’.
Of course, in this case ‘non-human’ basically was anything magical and/or non-terran...like me.
I let my finger carelessly and annoying tap on the edge of the warm mug as I looked around; the ‘cafe’ wasn’t much to look at, honestly, which may be why he picked this spot for us to take our little vacation. We had been holed up in a shack somewhere in Spain, just until the heat died down on a few of my little...misadventures. Turns out we didn’t need to hide for very long. Someone killed a very big name in a very short amount of time, and I had nothing to do with it. My Keeper-friend had decided to be all noble then, caught me with the iron cuff and told me he was turning me in.
To be honest, he had a terrible poker face. This was a farce, and so I leaned back to take in the scenery and wait for the other shoe to drop.
Humans milled around and barely noticed us. The air was dry but pleasant. The sun shone out the windows and the birds sung somewhere off in the distance. It was all very...muted. Domestic.
Boring.
This is taking too long, a voice whispered in my mind. Something is wrong.
Relax, mother, I tried to sooth her agitation despite my own wonderings. He wouldn’t turn on us after working hard to save us.
This isn’t right Jules, and you know it.
She wouldn’t stop fidgeting, the agitation echoing down my arm and into an increased tempo drumming out my fingertips. He glanced back up at my mug for a second, the pen-scratching hesitating as he cleared his throat.
“Oh dear,” I said as innocently as I could. “Is my agitation bothering you?”
“Mildly,” he said with a shrug, looking back up at me. “Is there anything in particular you’re allergic to?”
“Iron shackles, peanuts, and bad liars.”
He thought for a moment before returning to his paper, muttering about peanuts. “Alright, then. Do you have anything to say for yourself regarding your attack on the Keeper Sanctuary?”
“Plenty, darling, but I’m not going to say it to you.” I tapped the edge of his paper to indicate why.
“So...silence on the matter,” he muttered, glancing down and checking off a box. “Any relatives you care to mention?”
I flashed him a thin smile. “All dead,” I lied. “Some missing, several killed by over-enthusiastic rule-followers.”
This isn’t a game anymore, Jules, the voice whispered again. He’s taking notes to turn us in.
He wouldn’t do that, I insisted. Humans aren’t that complicated in nature.
Humans aren’t phae, she insisted back. And this one isn’t as stupid as you think.
My fingertips beat out a faster rhythm.
He glanced up, then around. Something shifted in the environment, very subtly and softly. I wasn’t quite sure what it was, but someone or something magical had just noticed us and was trying to make its way here.
The edge of the pen joined my irritated tapping as he turned back to me. “Final talks, then. Are you sick in any way that you know of?” I shook my head. He didn’t write it down. “No disease or illness you’re aware of?” Again, a shake of my head. The pen continued to tap. “What planet do you come from?”
I tipped my head. “Why?”
“Do you know?”
“I do,” I answered, cocking an eyebrow. “Do you?”
Another pulse of some magic, transportational I think. It rippled through reality like a snake through water, heading right for us. His pen tapped faster.
“Jules,” he said, eyebrows and mouth pressed downward into a serious expression, “why are you here on Earth?”
“I was trapped here,” I said, forcing myself into nonchalance. His agitation was matching my own, his pen replacing the rhythm of my fingertips on the tabletop. “Through decisions and forces that were not my own. I don’t want to be here anymore than anyone wants me to be here.”
He leaned forward, pen pressed flat between his hand and the table. “What if I told you that’s not the whole truth?” he said, lowering his voice. “What if I told you there’s a way in and out of this world?”
I laughed. He stayed serious, leaning in. I stopped.
Is he serious?
I can’t tell.
We sat there for a moment, staring at each other. Something magical landed nearby with a whomp, causing the table and all the glasses around to shake. The humans glanced around and towards the front windows, looking for the cause out in the street. The Keeper and I looked to the back of the cafe, where we knew the origin to be.
He glanced back at me, crumpling the paper in his hand and shoving it in his pocket as he stood. His other hand was held out to me. I gave him a look, shrugged, and allowed him to help me up. I preferred to not be dragged towards our destination by my boot.
We stayed in step with each other, arm in arm to disguise the chain linking us, my skirt brushing up against his jacket as we made our way down the short hall leading to the bathrooms. He hesitated for a moment, glancing at each before selecting the one with the biggest magical aura. He pushed the door open and started through, with me on his heels.
The mood changed in a flash. I stepped out of a small cafe somewhere between Spain and France with open windows and soft music to a blue-lit bar, glittering bottles of alien drinks, and a jazz band set up on a stage at the back of the wide lobby. I glanced back at the door we had come through only to watch it swing closed and disappear, a wood-paneled wall taking over the space.
I glanced at Hansel who kept his eyes forwards, shoulders relaxing a hair as he sort of slumped into the person I had come to know instead of the straight-laced Keeper. He waited a few beats of the jazzy music before turning back to me with a short crooked smile, reaffirming his elbow-on-elbow grip and leading me forwards.
This is Sting’s bar, mother whispered. Why are we in Sting’s bar?
Dear sweet mother-Raven, I thought back, life would be less fun if we knew absolutely everything.
You can say that freely, she thought back bitterly, as you are not mere consciousness trapped in someone else’s shell.
As you say. I turned my attention back to Hansel as he wove us around a collection of eclectic round tables, past the throng of enthusiastic dancers, down the side of the bar and into a small curtained-off area. Only once the music began to fade through the curtains and the padded walls did we stop, facing a dark-wood door embellished with gold and bronze trimmings. Hansel knocked once and the door opened.
I flashed a smile at our host and said simply, “hello again, friend of a friend.”
