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bloodstarved · 5 years

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big ol’ survey (take 2)

BASICS.

FULL NAME : beaumont black NICKNAME : beau, mister AGE : early 40s BIRTHDAY : doesn’t care to remember ETHNIC GROUP : highlander NATIONALITY : ala mhigan LANGUAGE / S : eorzean & huntspeak (keeper dialect) SEXUAL ORIENTATION : bisexual RELATIONSHIP STATUS : single HOME TOWN / AREA : unknown CURRENT HOME : dimwold, gyr abania PROFESSION : witch of the wilds

PHYSICAL.

HAIR : grey EYES : one blue & one green FACE : gaunt, wide jaw covered in coarse stubble, sunken eyes; haggard LIPS : thick, bloodless, dry COMPLEXION : sallow BLEMISHES : n/a SCARS : many on his back: faded & white TATTOOS : n/a HEIGHT : 6 fulms, 10 ilms WEIGHT : 250 ponzes BUILD : tall, broad-shouldered, thick: heavily-muscled FEATURES : heterochromia; shoulders that are habitually slumped as if bearing an extraordinary weight; listless, wandering eyes; face always concealed by ornate masks; generally bedecked in gold and jewels not befitting his usual, ragged attire ALLERGIES : rolanberries USUAL HAIR STYLE : medium-length & thin; wispy; unhealthy USUAL FACE LOOK : tired & melancholy; like he’s been through hell USUAL CLOTHING : varies between worn old clothes that have been mended times immemorial & ornate, lovely surcoats and fabrics; occasionally, he can be seen dawning heavy plate armor

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR / S : the unknown; the unquantifiable ASPIRATION / S : to find a purpose; to be at peace POSITIVE TRAITS : compassionate, empathetic, & resilient NEGATIVE TRAITS : gruff, aloof, & ill-mannered MAJOR ARCANA : the hermit ZODIAC : cancer, the crab TEMPERAMENT : melancholic SOUL TYPE : the shaman ANIMAL : barn owl VICE HABIT / S : isolationism, FAITH : believes in rhalgr to some degree, but moreso he believes in the spirits of the dimwold--innumerable apparitions that are fickle and unforgiving GHOSTS ? : unfortunately AFTERLIFE ? : yes REINCARNATION ? : no POLITICAL ALIGNMENT : indifferent EDUCATION LEVEL : intelligent & educated, though somewhat lacking when it comes to social interactions--favors short responses and simple language that perhaps belittles his true intelligence

FAMILY.

FATHER : unknown, deceased MOTHER : eleanora black, deceased SIBLINGS : none EXTENDED FAMILY : unknown, presumed deceased NAME MEANING / S : beau, meaning “fair” or “lovely”; mont, meaning “hill” or “mountain”

FAVORITES.

BOOK : the autobiography of some obscure monk’s unfortunate life DEITY : rhalgr, vaguely HOLIDAY : starlight MONTH : november SEASON : autumn PLACE : his cabin: ramshackle yet quiet & quaint--homey WEATHER : overcast with a cool breeze SOUND / S: a babbling brook & a crackling fire SCENT / S : rainwater & leather TASTE / S : iron & bread FEEL / S : coarse furs & threadbare blankets NUMBER : 11 COLORS : dark grey, white, washed-out red, & soft brown

EXTRA.

TALENTS : homebrew magicks & potions, healing wounds, & general handyman skills BAD AT : socializing, expressing his emotions, & romance TURN ONS : soft-spoken individuals, long hair (especially when braided), large breasts, chubbiness, mask kisses, patience TURN OFFS : rash personalities, loudness, clumsiness, black-and-white thinking, any attempts to remove his mask, necromancy (don’t ask) HOBBIES : general survivalism, whittling, helping travelers passing through the dimwold, making offerings to the spirits, practicing witchcraft QUOTE : “Please...” spoken softly but with a lot of feeling.

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 : If you could write your character your way in their own movie, what would it be called, what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about? A1 : an unnamed video tape you find in the back of your grandfather’s garage, and when you put it in the VCR, it’s just a two hour long silent film of beau weaving various baskets while avoiding all eye contact with the camera.

Q2 : What would their soundtrack/score sound like? A2 : a slow, melancholy piano accompanied by a steady, thrumming bass

Q3 : Why did you start writing this character? A3 : i absolutely fell in love with his design when i saw the completed version. from there, i slowly began thinking of things i could do with him, and eventually i incorporated most (of not all) of dali’s scrapped concepts into him. perhaps, in some ways, he is a revamped version of dali: a spiritual successor or even a homage to my first ffxiv rp character. yet unlike dali, i wanted to write a character who struggled with his own tenderness--who is soft yet without the knowledge of how to express it. so instead, he is gruff and keeps to himself, avoiding long-term connections with others. but he cannot stop himself from helping those in need, because there is no real escaping his nature.

Q4 : What first attracted you to this character? A4 : honestly, after i modded his face and saw how haggard & melancholy he looks, i simply fell in love. even the original art gave me this vibe of profound loneliness & desperation for contact: his subtle expression coupled with the way he gazes down at the red thread entwined with his fingers.

Q5 : Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse. A5 : i wish he would wear socks more often.

Q6 : What do you have in common with your muse? A6 : i used to be extraordinarily lonely growing up. in a lot of ways, beau is reminiscent of my early teenage self--without all of the outright destructive traits i had.

Q7 : How does your muse feel about you? A7 : you know, i think we would actually get along. i can be persistent without being pushy when it comes to making friends, and i think that’s exactly what he needs to help him open up a bit.

Q8 : What characters does your muse have interesting interactions with? A8 : i’m not sure yet! i think it would be interesting to see him interact with someone very high-energy, to contrast his low-energy. like a yuffie kisaragi to his vincent valentine (no i do not mean that in a romantic sense).

Q9 : What gives you inspiration to write your muse? A9 : dali himself is a big inspiration, along with sten from dragon age, eileen from bloodborne, auron from ffx, nier from nier: gestalt (NOT replicant), hopper from stranger things, giyu from demon slayer/kny, & dracula from netflix’s castlevania

Q10 : How long did this take you to complete? A10 : let’s just say im really gonna hate myself when i have to get up for work in the morning. (:

#rp meme #beau

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space-unicorn-dot · 6 years

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SSO HTTYD AU - Jaime Ravenshield

YEET, I was actually semi-around for the talk about this one and am actually here to show up on time with a developed character to actually participate. And this is perfect because Jay is perfect for this and I guess it’s not hard to tell I’ve been literally all over getting to develop and write him more. So, without further ado!! @sso-trainyourdragon Uhhh... I also realize this isn’t done, but if I save it just to my drafts, I’m gonna lose it, not know where it went, and never finish it. So, yeah, I’m gonna tag this, and please hold.

MEET MA BOI

Name: Jaime Ravenshield - Jay to friends

Age: Twenty-three

Occupation/Trade: Adventurer, mercenary

Magic: Illusions (disguising and masking things as something different, usually something a little more “normal”), Moon Circle/prophetic visions, water manipulation

Physical Appearance:

Yeah, I do genuinely think his hair would be longer in this AU verse, and, I mean, ignore that this doll creator was obviously kickass Viking woman (Iloveit) and, y’know, I did what I could. BUT ANYWAY.

He’s a bit of a human tower, standing at least six feet in height, and probably some change (read: I haven’t decided an exact, so just know he’s tol), with light blonde hair and heterochromia. His left eye is a warm brown and his right is a pale blue. I went with pale blue in the doll thing because you can’t choose two different ones, but you get the idea. I do really like how this turned out, lol.

Clothes & Style: Jay is on the move often and his typical style reflects that, and his preference for functionality. He’s often carrying at least a blade with him - either a sword or a dagger/some throwing knives, but also carries a bow and quiver for easier hunting. I may or may not have found myself mildly influenced by the presence of Assassin’s Creed Origins and Odyssey lately in my life. >.>

Uh, yeah, he’s also probably almost always in long sleeves, the light armor, boots, and pants. It gets a bit cold out there. The headpiece/helmet is probably mostly only when he’s actually flying, and the cloak is probably under a similar sort of use.

Build: Fit, healthily(?) muscled? You can tell he’s active and he practices his trade well enough to get more than by on the skin of his teeth, but he’s no hulking Stoick the Vast, ya feel?

Defining Characteristics: Typically wears some sort of blue paint in a few varying patterns - either something like the stripes in the picture or some runic designs. He has some claw scars on his left arm from a bit of a closer call with some ~disgruntled wildlife, and some more with scraps of the more human kind on his torso, not that anyone will be seeing that without some platonic bonding beforehand. Don’t get too excited, kids. I mean, there’s also his heterochromia. That probably gets noticed a fair bit.

Signature: Is this talking about like writing style? Signature feature? Weapon? Style? I don’t know and I’m not a cool kid that can do that fancy make your own font sort of thing because I’m lame, lazy, and don’t have any of that fancy tablet stuff, so you’re gonna have to bear with my vague description. His writing probably has a slight slant to it no matter what he’s writing - not necessarily the “I can’t write in a straight line without a line of reference” kinda slant, but like... a stylistic one? And he’s pretty neat. Probably mildly fancy. Because that shit’s pretty.

Personality: While “mercenary” might sound contradictory to all of this, “vigilante” might work a little better for a true description of what he does. Most people just end up calling him the former, anyways. He’s grown independent and self-sufficient out of necessity, considering he was an orphan, but he’s quite the compassionate individual, almost always willing to detour from the task at hand to help someone in need. He’s typically pretty soft-spoken and understanding. He’s not a particularly open book about himself, but he’ll take time to listen. Incredibly loyal and protective of those he cares for.

Talents: In free time, he’s been fond of sketching - lots of Star, but also of some of the scenery they’ve seen on their adventures. And, he’s a bit shy about it, so he won’t really admit to it unless you really press, but he likes to sing - again, mostly to Star.

Fighting Skills/Style: Jay has always been able to rely on Star to work with him in combat situations - as a distraction, with his strength, as a quick escape option, you name it, Star and Jay would trust each other to help. As for him alone, though, he prefers a shield and a trusty bow with a good range for his combat. In a sense, he likes to fight light on his feet - nimble and dodging or parrying incoming strikes so he can work quickly with his sword and daggers instead of depending on a shield for protection. If tackling a large group, he’d prefer to move with his bow first, to reduce the enemies he must take on and reduce his change of getting detected and stuck in a fight where he’s too outnumbered to take care of himself.

Relationships: Jay’s spent a lot of time mostly on his own, mainly with just Evergray, his mentor as company. Look, ‘cause I can. I love that bastard.

As for romantic, I have no idea, lol. Jay hasn’t really been on the market for a love interest, but that don’t mean he wouldn’t be open to one if something came up.

Pets: A light gray fox with a particular fondness for puddles, splashing up water, and who simply adores when Jay allows him to come with him and Star. His name is Ash.

Miscellaneous:

STORY

Origin: Somewhere high in the mountains; his memory’s a little blurry since his parents were killed when he was very young (and he’d, thus, rather not think too hard or long on it), and he was taken in after by the occasionally odd, but ultimately kind-hearted Evergray when he was young, maybe no more than six. Idk, I’m indecisive. xD Don’t make me number things.

Motivations: It’s not that his life is bad. But something feels likes its missing. The idea of seeing the world was a nice one, too, but, really, he’d also like somewhere he felt like he belonged.

DRAGON

Name; Starstone, usually just Star

Age: Mid to late-teens, probably, maybe an upwards of 20.

Species Name: Stormcutter

Description: Dark blue scales cover most of his body, with a very light blue undertone on his belly and his face that fades into the darker blue. His wings are also the light blue. His eyes are a deep gold color. Jay found him when he was still a young, barely full-grown dragon, with a bit of growing left to do, injured and a bit sickly, but they seemed to trust each other almost at first sight. Jay nursed the dragon back to health almost entirely on his own, only taking advice from more experienced elders, but letting few (if anyone at all) lay a hand to help.

Personality: He’s very wise, old-soul kinda friend, compassionate, supportive, and, above all else, would do anything for Jaime and to keep him safe. While he moves and holds himself with experience showing, he’s also soft-spoken and doesn’t mind trying to keep up with the occasional antic from other younger or more energetic dragon friends. He’s the kind that would sit there with a straight face while you wave a Twizzler in front of him and, just when you’re ready to begrudgingly give up because it looks like he won’t play with you, tackle and roll you into a gentle scuffle. Would ten out of ten use his tail as a playing lure for kiddos and let them practice pouncing on them. Loves soaring in the night sky, and regularly lets Jay sleep on him in various ways. Sometimes just on his back, sometimes under his wing, sometimes even wrapped in them when he hangs upside down. Overall, really chill, loyal ride or die. Also a wise counsel; Jay regularly consults and takes his advice.

Markings & Scars: He has some grayish-white stripes running down his neck and back, narrowing as they reach his tail and only going down the first bit of it. He has some scarring on his chest and some lighter ones across his hindquarters from close calls with his faithful rider.

Fighter or Passive?: Typically passive, like his rider, but, also like Jay, not afraid to “throw hands” when push comes to shove.

Anything Else Notable?: He has never been ridden with any sort of saddle or harness. Jay’s relationship with him is founded on trust and respect and, therefore, the only thing he’d ever maybe consider would be additional armor for his friend if they were getting into something he worried his dear friend couldn’t take, but they’ve made it this far without, so it’s not very likely.

#sso #star stable online #my oc #writing #my writing #sso httyd au #sso dragon au #jaime ravenshield

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theclaravoyant · 7 years

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AN ~ so I got a prompt 500 years ago for “trans!Fitz slaying transphobes” and I love my smol trans son but I got Feels(TM) so idk if ‘slay’ is the word I’d use. Still, my boy did better than I did the first time I got into a debate on this kinda thing, and Jemma stanning him is precious, so here we are. I’m also planning a future-set, more smooth & confident encounter, but this one’s Academy era.

TW: Due to the nature of the prompt, contains transphobia including one use of the t* slur. Disclaimer: Also probably contains a lot of oversimplified biology, because I am not a biologist and was 100% bound to stuff it up otherwise.

Read on AO3 (~1400wd)

Leopold (II)

Fitz didn’t spare a glance for Jemma when she came to sit near him at lunch. She didn’t mind – it was normal, when he was hyperfocused, and she had Kat and Tegan with her anyway. She said hello to him, because it seemed the decent thing to do on principle, and resumed her conversation.

It was not until several minutes later, Fitz twitched. There was something he was hearing but hadn’t been registering, and a knot tightened in his gut the more he tries to ignore it. It had broken through his focus now; thrown off the rhythm of the eraser he’d been twirling in one hand, while sketching with the other.

“I’m telling you, gender is a social construct,” one of Jemma’s friends, Kat, insisted, and Fitz’s ears couldn’t help but tune in. He squeezed the eraser hard. So that’s why I’m listening.

“Biologists don’t like to admit it but it’s true,” Kat continued. “Nurture, baby. The only reason trannies exist is because girls can do boy stuff now and the binary can’t handle it.”

Jemma flinched, just a little, and shook her head, but bless her, she didn’t look at Fitz at all and he hid in his corner, behind his page, still listening more than he knew he should.

“I don’t think that’s what it means,” Jemma pointed out carefully. “The way we perceive gender is a social construct, based on our culture and the belief that Western knowledge is superior. The binary is the construct. Forcing people to act it out.”

Her other friend sighed exasperatedly.

“Chromosomes, though!” she insisted. “XX. XY. Problem solved. And yes, I’ve considered the other ones; they’re called defects for a reason. Not bad ones! Just like, heterochromia and stuff. A quirk of nature. But it’s supposed to be XX, and XY, and nature designed us like that for a reason.”

Jemma huffed.

“Nature’s not God,” she snapped. “It doesn’t have a plan for us. Except maybe to let us make ourselves extinct with all these PCPs and cell towers and things.”

“What does it matter though, anyway?” The first one interrupted. “If girls can do boy stuff and boys can do girl stuff why don’t we all just stay in our lanes and get on with life? Who cares if a boy thinks they’re a girl. Who cares how many Xs they have. I don’t. Good on ‘em. They can avoid periods the rest of their lives. Score.”

“Well, not necessarily,” Jemma pointed out. “They can have surgery, you know. Many transgendered people are more comfortable that way.”

“Serious?” The girl raised her eyebrows. “And it works and everything?”

“Well…I assume so. It’s not like I’ve looked into it.”

“It certainly seems like you have.”

“Got something to tell us, Jems?” Tegan teased, prodding her with a finger. “Or – sorry, do you prefer James now?”

Jemma twisted her fingers together uncomfortably, but rolled her eyes as her friends cajoled around her.

“Come on, guys…” she groaned, trying to laugh it off.

“Hey, does that make you gay now, or…”

They laughed, and tried to nudge one out of her, but before Jemma could think up an explanation or excuse, the sharp slap of a pencil against paper snapped them all out of it. They all looked to Fitz, where the sound had come from, and only Jemma who knew him well could see the tension in his neck and arm where he squeezed the eraser so tightly his knuckles must have turned white.

“It’s not a defect,” he insisted. “And it’s not a social construct. If it was, you wouldn’t have 90 year old war vets coming out. If it was, you wouldn’t have kids who’d had it beaten out of them their whole lives sticking by it anyway. People risk dying to stay true to who they are. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

They were a little bewildered, and even though his heart was thudding so quickly his head was starting to spin, Fitz was a little proud of that. He also felt a little sick, but he was in it now. In for a penny, in for a pound, he thought, and stared them down.

Kat lowered her eyes a little.

“You’re right, I didn’t think about that,” she admitted. “But people risk dying to stay true to their religion too. Identity doesn’t mean biology.”

“Right. Yeah. Fair enough. But on that – “ Fitz stalled. He wasn’t a biologist; he could be getting this all the wrong way. In for a penny, he reminded himself, and pushed on. “Did you know sometimes if people are born with penises that are too short the doctors can just turn them inside out? Yeah. All the outside bits are the same when you’re born and somebody comes along with a ruler.”

“Well, not the same,” Jemma interrupted, and then stopped, because now was not the time.

“And I said chromosomes!” Tegan insisted. “Not genitals.”

“What do chromosomes even do though?” Fitz challenged. “What do genes do? Biologists don’t know half the stuff our bodies do or why. They can’t even agree on how we learn languages! Who are you to say gender isn’t an entirely separate biological feature we haven’t even discovered yet?”

Tegan scoffed. “Somebody with a biology degree, which is more than you can say!”

Her eyes looked into his, wide and incredulous and a little provocative, daring him to push back again, and he realised that she honestly couldn’t see it. In any other circumstances he might have found that a comfort, even a victory, but in this moment he wished he could have worn a badge with it blazing across his chest. Instead, he gritted his teeth.

Tegan pouted.

“Aw, you’re gonna cry now Fitzy?” she moped.

He clenched his jaw tighter, cursing himself. He loved this body, but it loved to betray him.

“I guess you really wanna be a little girl, don’t you?”

Kat elbowed her and hissed don’t be a dick, and Tegan brushed her off, but before she could open her mouth, Jemma stood, and put herself between them and Fitz.

“I think it’s time for you to be going,” she insisted, her voice quiet and dangerous. Tegan watched her for a moment, and when Jemma didn’t back down, she rolled her eyes.

“Whatever, kid,” she sighed. “It’s been real. Have fun with Mama’s Boy over there for the rest of your life. And if you want him to actually get anywhere, since you two seem to be attached at the hip or something, teach him how to handle himself in a debate, will you?”

With that, she was gone, and Kat faded away too. Jemma wasn’t sure what side of the debate she’d ended up on and to be honest, she didn’t care. She’d made it through high school, university and two PhDs with friends dropping her left right and centre. Fitz was the one who’d stayed, and she’d stay right back.

“I’m not going to cry,” Fitz insisted stubbornly.

“Never said you were,” Jemma assured him brightly, as she came to sit beside him. She bumped his shoulder with hers. “You did really well. You were really punching above your weight and some of the things they were saying were really uncomfortable. But I think you got Kat thinking, if that makes you feel better.”

“You make me feel better,” Fitz said. “You really looked into it all?”

Jemma shrugged.

“A little bit. You’re my friend. I wanted to understand. And make sure I didn’t put my foot in my mouth too much; I have a bad habit of doing that.”

Fitz smiled weakly. “Yeah, you do.” Then he frowned down at his page. “I’m sorry you can never make any friends.”

“Hey, if they’re going to be like that, we were never meant to be friends anyway.”

“What happened to ‘nature doesn’t have a plan for us?’”

“Oh, nature doesn’t,” Jemma explained. “But I do. And nobody that calls me ‘kid’ and makes fun of you for crying or being a boy is part of that. You are. And as far as I’m concerned, you always will be.

“Now, how about you tell me about this thing you’re drawing?”

#fitzsimmons #thefitzsimmonsnetwork #buskidsnet #aospositivitynet #trans!fitz #academy!fitzsimmons #transphobia #tw: transphobia

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