Can freely be drawn, ask before writing | Able to be depicted with others if character is maintained | Leniently open as a creator
.;Origin Prompts;.
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Perhaps a mockery of a gift, but Kviskra has long since gotten used to her Protection enchantment - one that's followed her since the dawn of her consciousness in this strange, compact little body. Were she anyone else, she's almost certain it would've been used for greatness, for kindness on all stretches. Maybe she would've become like that strange Wanderer, who spends her days saving sled dogs and ensuring humanity doesn't cave in on itself.
But she is not someone else. And she is not that Wanderer.
And yet still, could one even call such a gift a kindness?
It's self defense, more often than not. Flickering from her eye and seeping into her veins - providing warmth, safety, assurance. When the blue fires burn too brightly that she cannot stop them, that strange enchantment will cover her like a blanket and ensure she's safe. That she is well.
And yet, at times, she uses it on the cause of those blue fires too. Frightened by what he may do to himself, and wanting him to remain together when his mind falls apart.
But she is not someone else. And she is not that Wanderer.
And yet still, could one even call such a gift a kindness?
It's self defense, more often than not. Flickering from her eye and seeping into her veins - providing warmth, safety, assurance. When the blue fires burn too brightly that she cannot stop them, that strange enchantment will cover her like a blanket and ensure she's safe. That she is well.
And yet, at times, she uses it on the cause of those blue fires too. Frightened by what he may do to himself, and wanting him to remain together when his mind falls apart.
Background
Assertive | Trailing | Icarian
The life of "before" is,,, a curious thing to try and remember. Perhaps it's fitting that the one called Kviskra was made by a creature of a broken mind - or maybe it's because of this that she doesn't remember too much at all.
In truth, she'd been a human in her past life. That much, at least, she can recall. A human who sought escape and freedom from whatever past she left behind. She can't remember much of it, only small bits and pieces. Weight in her hands, the view from a plane, the feeling of her stomach dropping as she was so high up. She remembers the cold of coming to this place after so many years - she'd visited once? twice? more? - and remembers the comfort of roots that cradled her failing self all too well.
She remembers hallucinating. Seeing that blasted thing she'd been chasing for so long yet can't recall, and then,,, she remembers him.
Her oh so delightful creator.
Calcimér, the creature she's decided to tie herself to for better or worse. Or perhaps, 'decided' is implying she had any choice. Frankly, she doesn't feel like she did.
But regardless.
As a spirit, Kviskra's awakening was one of panic and confusion. With no real memories to grip onto, who are you as a person? With nothing to recall, did you ever even live? She could get no answers from the thing that made her, silent stares and the occasional click being her greeting until he outright left.
She is a bitter thing. Resentment cold in her chest, panic, fear. She hates what has happened to her to some extent, hates that she cannot recall who she was. She's terrified really, thinking she might never remember. All those key details and core memories are gone, and she has nothing to show for it but this tiny, frail body that'll never give, yet still rot. She has nothing to show for whatever brought her here than him.
Him.
The source of her panic, fear, anger. The thing that makes her want to scream and thrash, want to cry out and grow fangs to snap with. She hates him. She hates him.
And yet, she cannot leave his side.
Her life is one of wandering, and with it, comes Calcimér. There was never a chance of escaping him, she thinks. Not in a million years of this life. What had been following for answers and reasons, turned to a fear of being lonely, then turned to a self assigned goal.
He can't remember, and neither could she. He forgets who even she is, sometimes. Views her like a stranger, when she has been there for him in so many ways. Sat when he did, walks when he does, dove through his very flames. She doesn't know why she goes so far, doesn't know what changed or when. Doesn't know when resentment became care, when violence became protection. But if she is so distraught over a few memories with a conscious mind, she can't help but question him.
So she follows. She guards. She stays.
Together, she thinks, they might remember who they were, what they were. They'll get the end they want so desperately. They'll fix each other. Maybe. Even if it means snapping at others and driving them away, even if it means nearly feeling like she'll be killed, even if it means fighting against those calls she feels sometimes.
She will find that damning thing that dragged her here, that made her like this, that made her forget.
And she will fix. her. Creator.
The life of "before" is,,, a curious thing to try and remember. Perhaps it's fitting that the one called Kviskra was made by a creature of a broken mind - or maybe it's because of this that she doesn't remember too much at all.
In truth, she'd been a human in her past life. That much, at least, she can recall. A human who sought escape and freedom from whatever past she left behind. She can't remember much of it, only small bits and pieces. Weight in her hands, the view from a plane, the feeling of her stomach dropping as she was so high up. She remembers the cold of coming to this place after so many years - she'd visited once? twice? more? - and remembers the comfort of roots that cradled her failing self all too well.
She remembers hallucinating. Seeing that blasted thing she'd been chasing for so long yet can't recall, and then,,, she remembers him.
Her oh so delightful creator.
Calcimér, the creature she's decided to tie herself to for better or worse. Or perhaps, 'decided' is implying she had any choice. Frankly, she doesn't feel like she did.
But regardless.
As a spirit, Kviskra's awakening was one of panic and confusion. With no real memories to grip onto, who are you as a person? With nothing to recall, did you ever even live? She could get no answers from the thing that made her, silent stares and the occasional click being her greeting until he outright left.
She is a bitter thing. Resentment cold in her chest, panic, fear. She hates what has happened to her to some extent, hates that she cannot recall who she was. She's terrified really, thinking she might never remember. All those key details and core memories are gone, and she has nothing to show for it but this tiny, frail body that'll never give, yet still rot. She has nothing to show for whatever brought her here than him.
Him.
The source of her panic, fear, anger. The thing that makes her want to scream and thrash, want to cry out and grow fangs to snap with. She hates him. She hates him.
And yet, she cannot leave his side.
Her life is one of wandering, and with it, comes Calcimér. There was never a chance of escaping him, she thinks. Not in a million years of this life. What had been following for answers and reasons, turned to a fear of being lonely, then turned to a self assigned goal.
He can't remember, and neither could she. He forgets who even she is, sometimes. Views her like a stranger, when she has been there for him in so many ways. Sat when he did, walks when he does, dove through his very flames. She doesn't know why she goes so far, doesn't know what changed or when. Doesn't know when resentment became care, when violence became protection. But if she is so distraught over a few memories with a conscious mind, she can't help but question him.
So she follows. She guards. She stays.
Together, she thinks, they might remember who they were, what they were. They'll get the end they want so desperately. They'll fix each other. Maybe. Even if it means snapping at others and driving them away, even if it means nearly feeling like she'll be killed, even if it means fighting against those calls she feels sometimes.
She will find that damning thing that dragged her here, that made her like this, that made her forget.
And she will fix. her. Creator.
BoundaryNestled within the valley of her creator's mountains, Kviskra has long since made herself 'at home' so to speak. The trees are sparse in their collection at times, gathered in clumps of thick woods and some only in a few skeletons that might provide shade, with fields of typically snow covered grass between them. Lakes and small streams tend to scatter the place, yet with the climate they're often times frozen at least partially.
The environment is often grueling, what with near constant snow and chilly weather. Though they might have summer months where the snow is lessened, it is rare for them to be entirely clear of it. And in those times, the grasses and grow properly, and their flowers can bloom beneath the light to be cherished and used to nourish new life that still remains here, standing against the tests of time. Though her boundary is located within this place, the trees being home and their roots beds to nestle it, she's not often there for long. What with her constant sticking to Calcimér, she only tends to visit the place when he does. It's nice she supposes, a comforting sight that warms her bones even when snow covers the fields and sticks in the trees, but it isn't a requirement for her. To stay, grounded to one spot, never fleeing. There is a comfort to moving constantly, to never needing to question what's next. She needs only to follow, and that distant home becomes just that. Distant. |
The Creator
She cares for him. He doesn't remember her most days, but she stays anyway. The bond they have is unspoken and one-sided maybe, but even in her rage and want to flee, she sits by his side. She waits for him to move on, to think, to talk.
He's spoken to her sometimes. Proper words.
When he almost burned her alive, he said he was sorry.
She cares for him. She hates him. She wants him gone, and wants him to never leave her sight - fearful of what might happen to him and her alike.
It's no matter. He's all she has really. And if she wants any chance for something else, she knows where she belongs. And it's wherever he decides to go.
She cares for him. He doesn't remember her most days, but she stays anyway. The bond they have is unspoken and one-sided maybe, but even in her rage and want to flee, she sits by his side. She waits for him to move on, to think, to talk.
He's spoken to her sometimes. Proper words.
When he almost burned her alive, he said he was sorry.
She cares for him. She hates him. She wants him gone, and wants him to never leave her sight - fearful of what might happen to him and her alike.
It's no matter. He's all she has really. And if she wants any chance for something else, she knows where she belongs. And it's wherever he decides to go.
Character Details and Notes
- Kviskra's vibration or voice is raspy and warm, faint crackles of kindling fire present alongside the slight wheeze of old lungs. They sound youthful and aged all the same, a young girl who flew too close to the sun and an old woman fighting to see just one more sunrise. Her tone is deep with age, but her words are fiery with her taken youth, often spoken with little concern for the consequence as she snaps fangs she doesn't even possess.
- Her size is rather slight, no larger than a fox not including her long, wild tail.
- Her enchantment only activates from one eye, her left one. The other might glow and give faint flickers akin to embers almost, but there should never be a trail.
- Kviskra has no proper room in the Conservatory, but she visits it rather frequently thanks to Calcimér. With his trips to it being consistent and aimless at times, she's never found reason to 'make a room' inside of the winding place, instead focusing on following him around. On keeping others away the best she can. Despite that, she can admit to the beauty of the place. There is,,, an allure to it. She can't say she faults Cal for visiting as often as he does.
- As a creator, despite her more together mental state, she would be no better than Calcimér himself. Her creations would be ones likely made out of an emotional outburst, ones she would run from soon after to stick by Cal's side and even outright denying you should you claim to have been made by her. She is a soul who follows another without stopping, always two paces behind. She has no time, nor present mind for creations. Let alone ones that claim to want to help.
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