#vera oc

[st4rry-shy]

✨MORE OC POSTING✨

[timekeeperlindar]

Estranged

Gavin didn't expect to see Tesla in his cafe, or at least, not alone; the five year old usually avoided crowds if he didn't have his father with him to cling to. But there he sat, all by himself, under an empty table, drawing little invisible shapes on the tile with a claw. His tiny shoulders lurched occasionally, and it was then Gavin realized that he was crying.

He frowned to himself, wondering why Lindar wasn't already there to comfort his son. The barista looked around tentatively for the clockmaker, but after twelve minutes had passed, Gavin came to realize that he would just have to deal with the issue himself. He sighed, scanned the area for anything that might need his attention, and carefully made his way over to the empty table as inconspicuously as he could.

As he came closer, he could faintly hear the tiny sobs beneath all of the surrounding chatter of the patrons around them. Gavin frowned, feeling worry rising in the back of his mind: what had happened? What would cause Tesla to become so upset that he would leave his father to go hide like this? In a place he usually avoided at all costs?

Gavin squatted down beside the table, peeking underneath to get a better view. The hatchling was still "drawing" on the tile absent-mindedly, too absorbed in his own sad little thoughts to take any notice of the adult dragon. Gavin sighed.

"...Uh...Hey, Tesla?"

No response; that was normal. Tesla usually didn't respond the first time his name was called.

He hesitantly tried again, a little louder:

"...Tesla?"

The hatchling paused for a moment and took a quick glance at the barista, as if considering him and his presence, before resuming what he was doing. He sniffled.

"...Gavin," he mumbled.

Gavin watched Tesla draw his invisible figure eights, a slow, repetitive, and monotonous pattern.

"...Watcha doin', bud?" He tried to make his voice as gentle and light as Lindar usually did when he talked to him, a tactic to avoid making him even more upset than he already was.

Another sniffle. Tesla didn't make eye-contact, but that was normal. He paused again.

"...He yelled at me." He mumbled and wiped a fresh tear from his eye.

Gavin furrowed his brow, worry and anger mixing together in his chest.

"...Who?" He hated how his tone made him sound angry too, but he couldn't help it; Who'd yell at a little kid?

"...Daddy." Tesla sniffled again, his little frame shaking as it prepared to take on another bout of racking sobs.

Gavin had to physically stop himself from falling back in complete shock. He steadied himself on his tail and squinted at the child, hardly believing what he had heard.

"What? Lindar?! Lindar yelled at you? What for?"

Lindar never yelled at his son, no matter how upset or tired he was, no matter what Tesla had done, no matter how many times he had unintentionally tried his patience: Lindar had never once raised his voice towards the hatchling, the entire five years he had been alive, and Lindar himself had said he never planned to.

So it was quite surprising to the barista to hear that he had finally snapped; but why? What had Tesla done to make Lindar angry enough to yell at him?

Tesla began another bout of long, shaking sobs, and Gavin knew that in this state he would hear no more out of the toddler. He sighed and got up.

He was going to have to take this into his own hands.

He scanned the cafe again, put up the "out to lunch" sign, and headed towards Lindar's home.

When he got there, the front door was wide open, allowing the afternoon summer breeze to blow into the living room from the outside. Gavin sighed and closed the door behind him.

"Lindar? You in here?"

"Back here," Came the response, cold, dismal.

Gavin sighed again and walked into the master bedroom. Lindar was sitting on the bed, his back and drooping wings to the door.

Gavin paused. "...Ya know, your kid's in my shop, crying." He said.

Lindar snorted lightly. "...Of course, last place I'd ever look for him." He let out a soft, shaking sigh, and from that, Gavin could tell that Tesla's father had been doing his own share of sobbing.

He paused at the doorway, wondering if he should probe the issue further; he knew Lindar hated it when others tried to nose their way into his business...but Gavin also knew this wasn't just a little problem that would blow over in a few days.

He took a small step inside. "...Lindar, Tesla said you yelled at him."

Might as well get straight to the point.

Lindar's shoulders tensed up for a moment, then slowly relaxed. "...Did he?"

"...You never yell at him." Gavin crossed his arms; if Lindar was going to try to be defensive, Gavin was prepared to fight.

But to his surprise, Lindar didn't offer any resistance. He just sat in silence for a moment, before it seemed his entire body just slackened, and he tossed something over his shoulder.

It was a small framed photograph, hand sized, with the image of a dragoness smiling inside it. Gavin's eyes widened in recognition. He looked up at Lindar's slumped form.

Lindar let out a long sigh that shook his ribcage.

"...I told him my room was off-limits. He nosed around in here anyway, and he stumbled across that...I shouldn't have yelled at him, I know, but..." He trembled and buried his face in his hands.

Gavin looked at the photo, thinking for awhile.

"...You're going to have to tell him sometime, you know. You can't keep it from him forever."

Lindar snorted. "Tell him what, Gavin? Huh? Tell him what?"

He jumped up with sudden vigor, stomping over to the other side of the bed and snatched up the photo to display the face to Gavin.

He shook the photo, his bloodshot eyes filled with tears of rage.

"What am I going to say to him? 'Hey Tesla, this is your mom. Oh! Don't worry, she's not dead or anything, she just left because she doesn't love you!'"

He snorted bitterly and turned the photo around to examine the dragoness pictured.

"...Or me neither, apparently." He said softly, more to himself than to anyone else.

Gavin's entire stance dropped.

*****************

Five years ago...

Gavin had been sent off to Town Square to retrieve the clock maker. No one had seen him all day, and since Gavin was the one who knew him best, he had been sent to hunt him down.

He had a lurking suspicion why Lindar would have disappeared...considering the fact that the clockmaker's wife hadn't been seen anywhere either. Their entire household was quiet...too quiet.

When the house fell in silence like that, Gavin knew that it could only mean one of three things: Lindar was either asleep, dead...or drinking. So far, with all of the knocking they had done, and the absence of his wife, it could only mean two of those theories were left: but of course, Gavin knew that only one of them were really plausible.

The barista entered the Town Square Tavern, squinting in the dim light. It was late, and there were hardly any patrons at the rather lonely bar...so it wasn't hard to spot the huddled blue form sitting farthest from the door.

Gavin sighed and crept closer.

The clockmaker looked like a disaster. He sat hunched over the bar, his face buried in his arms. Bottles of various sizes, all empty, surrounded him in his corner. His hair was a mangled, frizzy mop, as if he had ran his claws through it too many times and then tried to pull it out in patches; and when he finally looked up at the approaching dragon, his eyes were bloodshot and his flushed cheeks stained with fresh tears.

He squinted up at Gavin for a minute, as if trying to recognize him.

"...Gavven?" He slurred woozily, swaying a little even as he leaned forward in his seat.

Gavin sighed and gently pushed Lindar back to stability, feeling a sickening twist in his gut: Lindar was no alcoholic, even if he was known to occasionally get inebriated at parties...so seeing him like this, in this destroyed state...it was heartbreaking.

Gavin furrowed his brow and gingerly pushed Lindar against the bar to keep him from falling over. The drunk dragon offered no help or resistance in the least.

"...Lindar, why are you here? Isn't your egg at home? And...won't Vera be worried?" He knew why Lindar was here already, but he risked getting closer to the confession anyway: it might be good for Lindar to talk about it.

Lindar blinked slowly, as if trying to come out of his dazed state. Then he snorted suddenly and growled, smoke rising from his nostrils.

Gavin took a step back. Lindar wouldn't attack him, would he...?

He didn't have to worry about that for long. The maya blue dragon fell back into his seat and started chuckling...but there was something bitter about it-sad, even.

Lindar smiled up at Gavin. "Vvera? Oh-*hic*-She doesn't care! I'vve been 'ere allllllllllllll day! And I 'aven't seen 'er since-since dis mornin'!"

He chuckled again, but Gavin could see tears welling up in his eyes.

"...Ya know what she did?" Lindar said, more quietly, more angrily, but still with that strange, disturbing smile. Lindar giggled dizzily and pushed himself away from the counter.

"She-*hic*-She per-perorrmed her greatest magic trick yet!-She made herself disappear!"

He made the "jazz hands" gesture before nearly stumbling out of his seat. Gavin had to catch him before he cracked his skull on the floor. Lindar hung limp in Gavin's grasp, laughing and crying and sobbing all at once.

The barista sat Lindar up again and held him against the counter to keep him still.

"She...She left you? Are you sure? Maybe...Maybe she'll come back?"

They had only been married for three years...they had fought sometimes, sure, but to Gavin's knowledge, never badly enough to consider divorce as an option.

Lindar giggled again and pulled something out of the pouch around his waist. He dropped it onto the counter, and the small objects clinked against the wood. Gavin's heart sank immediately.

Lindar smiled and propped his cheek up on his elbow. "Wha'do ya call DAT?!"

Two twin wedding bands lay in the little forest of bottles. She wasn't coming back. Ever.

When Gavin looked up again, Lindar had his face buried in his arms, sobbing. The barista, not knowing what else to do, slung Lindar over his shoulder like a sack of coffee beans and began to walk out. Again, Lindar offered no resistance. He just hung sadly in Gavin's grip, sobbing.

It wasn't long before they were back to where Lindar lived. The house seemed much more empty now: dark, somber. Gavin reached the door, but was surprised to find it already unlocked. He tilted his head.

"Hey, Lindar...did you leave this door unlocked?"

The horologist's eyes widened, and he uttered a loud curse before slipping out of Gavin's grip and rushing into the house, almost knocking things over and running into walls as he went. Gavin chased after him, watching as he desperately rummaged through drawers and burst into rooms seemingly without coherent thought or process: but despite the madness, the goal was clear.

Gavin could hear him mumbling under his breath as he sobbed, "Where is it? Where is it?!" Over and over again.

Eventually, he somehow managed-even with his drunken stumbling-to reach his bedroom, and sitting on a cushion in a crib, safe and secure, was the egg. Lindar scooped it into his arms and cried, cradling it to his chest.

"I'm a horrible parent," he whispered, falling back on the bed and rocking softly, "A horrible, horrible parent."

Gavin couldn't help the rage that was threatening to come out of him: how could Lindar have been so irresponsible? What would have happened had a thief came in and taken the egg?

He unclenched and clenched his fists for a moment, trying to relax and clear his head. No, rage wasn't the answer. Lindar had been through enough already.

He sat beside him, making the bed creak lightly under his weight. The clockmaker sobbed unceasingly beside him, and Gavin knew he wouldn't stop anytime soon. With lack of knowledge of what else to do...he wrapped a wing around his friend and hugged him to his side.

"...It'll be ok..."

**************

Present Day

Gavin sighed and put his hand on Lindar's shoulder.

"...You can't hide it from him forever, you know? Maybe...Don't put it like...like that, but..." He huffed, trying to find the words, "...Tesla's a smart kid. You've always known that, even when we didn't. Maybe if you explain the situation to him..."

Lindar shook his head and gently squeezed the barista's hand. His eyes kept drifting around the room, as if he couldn't bear to make eye contact in his slatternly condition...Gavin wanted to chuckle at Lindar's self-consciousness: he worried too much about how he looked to other dragons.

Lindar swallowed. "...I know my boy's smart," he smiled a bit in pride, unable to restrain it even now, "...But...I don't want him to be as heartbroken as I was over her...Tessie...He doesn't deserve that." He frowned again, tears welling up in his eyes.

Gavin reached up and gently wiped Lindar's eyes clean. "Hey, it's ok...I know, I was just as upset as you when she left...but maybe keeping Tesla in the dark isn't going to help in the long run. I mean, how long will it be until he finds out he wasn't fairy-brought?"

Lindar huffed and pulled away. "...He's only five. There's still a good eight years at least until I'm officially obligated to give him...er...'the talk'..." Lindar shuddered lightly, before resuming with a tone that matched the gravity of their discussion: "...And...I don't think him knowing now will do him any good, is all."

Gavin fell silent for a moment. Lindar stared up at him, resolute.

The barista finally gave up with a sigh. "...Fine. Keep lying to him then...But you have to tell him one day, understand? That'll be our promise." He took Lindar's hand in his and sternly looked him in the eye.

Lindar sniffled, making direct eye contact for the first time since their conversation began.

"...I promise." He said, shaking Gavin's hand.

Gavin nodded and released his hand. "...Good...Now come apologize to your kid. I don't think it'll be good for business to have a crying hatchling sitting under one of my tables."

Lindar sighed and put the photo away, locking the drawer it was contained in.

"...I'm sorry."

[throatofdelusionincarnate]

Omg hiii long time no see!

I did a little (big) update on some ocs so have some new Judith and Vera designs (more so Vera)

[gremlin-supreme]

✒🖋🖊💕

aaahh ty!! 💖💖

🖊️ - Reagan is left-handed! While in elementary school, teachers kept forcing her to use her right hand (the school was attached to a church, so ya know, rules). To spite them, she purposefully wrote worse with her right hand, to the point of being illegible. Wasn’t long until they allowed her to switch back.

🖊️ - Vera Tesoriero, my modern-day oracle for ancient gods, does tarot with her late grandmother’s playing cards. Cartomancy is the official term. It’s different because there is no reverse to the cards and no Major Arcana exists. The strongest equivalent to a normal tarot deck is the Joker, which represents the Fool.

🖊️ - Another fun fact about Vera: Her visions started very early in her life, growing in strength at an almost exponential rate. She still has a hard time controlling them properly. Because of the mental toll it’s taken on her, the stress has stripped the pigment from her hair, leaving it permanently silver.

[palettemagnolia]

two pathfinder characters for a small campaign. kilara and vera. they had a lot of flirting going on. and some one sided drooling. might draw the two of them more often?