of-beasts-and-blood

[of-beasts-and-blood]

Location: A bar that totally has a name Present: Jack & Seraphina ( @serashapes )

Jack had Quidditch mates. He liked to think he was friends with all the Wasps, and he’d had the luck of meeting a few big names thanks to Ludo. But Seraphina Parkinson was on a whole new level. Watching her fly, the way her broom sliced through the air with effortless power, made other players look like erumpents in the air - himself included. 

Part of him told himself not to bother her, but that part was not in touch with his legs as they walked him over to her. She turned to look at him and oop. Was this what it was like when people thought they saw God? He jutted out a hand. “Miss Parkinson, ma’am, I’m a huge fan. I know lo's of authors wri'e books abou' Quidditch, but you. You, like, rewro'e all the rules an' everythin'.”

⚠

#m: jack #c: seraphina #thread: seraphina.j001 #closed starter #starter #setting: a bar

[of-beasts-and-blood]

edithburning​:

“I’m Edith Fortescue.” She said, taking his hand and shaking it. Maybe she’d come on a little strong there. He looked a tad nervous. Edith couldn’t quite help it. She settled down across from him and tried to make herself look a little less Edith on loud. “I’m a Cursebreaker. Word is you’ve got something no one’s really seen before. Do you need help? I’m really good at my job.”

–

His polite smile faded, and he resisted the urge to reach up and touch his neck. He’d been so good at hiding it, he thought. But rumours would be rumours, travelling just as much as he did. He took her in, weighing the pros and cons. He was so incredibly poor at gauging threats, but he was at least 70% certain that threats did not wear glitter lip gloss. His gaze darted around the room, as if searching for authority, before he finally leaned forward and spoke. “So am I, but this has me… completely baffled. It can’t be a blood curse, because as far as I can pinpoint, it only started after I was born. And while I spent a long time considering poison as an option, no toxin I’ve recorded comes close to any kind of similar effect. It’s like a-a disease.”

✍

#m: shivaun #c: edith #thread: edith.s001 #i don't know why this gif is so flat but it's sending me

[of-beasts-and-blood]

si-gh-monbones​:

Simon’s eyes lit up. They loved helping first timers, it was like getting to show people through a childhood version of heaven or something. They were gonna have a fun time for sure! “Oh, I can totally do that! Here, come with me.” Si summoned a basket and gestured for Shivuan to follow them. “Do you have a budget?”

–

Shivaun followed without complaint, grateful for the other person’s confidence in the space. Shop assistants set off his nerves like nothing else, but it seemed like this person was more just a… frequent customer. A friendly frequent customer. His gaze landed on a barrel of something called a ‘cockroach cluster’ as they walked. He pulled a face. Maybe he’d give that one a miss. “No budget. I-I mean, a reasonable budget because I’m only one man who doesn’t want to completely ruin his system with a kilogram of sugar, but. Price tags don’t worry me, is what I’m getting at.”

✍

#m: shivaun #c: simon #thread: simon.s001

[of-beasts-and-blood]

georgettexmacmillan​:

Georgette’s job career was one of her very few happy places. She could be alone for hours on end, having time to herself doing something she loved. Being a tactile person, Georgette was able to use her hands and be productive at the same time. Combine that with getting messy and dirty left her feeling accomplished in a way very few could understand. It fulfilled her. Not everyone was that lucky. A small piece of her actually felt sorry for those people but, ultimately, she carried her luckiness on her shoulder and brought up how incredible working was for her. She was a braggart and not afraid to show it.

The funny thing is that the heavy smoker nearly forgot about the nicotine while in her dim dungeon. Her coffee she bought on the way to work always went cold just a few sips in. When Georgette was in the zone she was so hyper-focused that she forgot about everything around her and could only see and feel what was right in front of her. It was good for getting things done but, yes, she ignored any wants or needs she had when in that headspace – which was quite often.

As she was handling fragments and piecing them together, Georgette jumped as the door opened and quickly turned around. “You scared the shit out of me, Effie!” she said immediately with her hand on her chest, regulating the breath that had escaped her.

“Water? Of course you brought water,” Georgette shook her head with a smile. No one would believe she actually got along with Effie. To the point where she would not only call her her boss but also a friend. Although they had different attitudes and ways of carrying themselves, she shared the same passions and that was really fucking important to Georgette. “Okay, mom.” She took the water and stirred the glass. “If only you handed me something spiked.” She smiled and took a gulp of the water. “I guess you were right.”

⚿

She scoffed amusedly at Georgette’s reaction. “Maybe if you turned a light on once in a while, you wouldn’t get so spooked when other living beings came to speak to you.” She nodded up at the elaborate wall-mounted lanterns, devoid of any flame. “Those are more than just homes for spiders, you know.”

She watched the other woman take the glass, smiling good-naturedly at the jab. “If I was your mother, I think you’d spend a lot more time grounded than you currently are. At least my cruel and unusual punishments only extend to making you drink water and acknowledging that the sun exists.” As much as she teased, she knew Georgie could handle herself. While they hadn’t exactly exchanged childhood stories, there was a single-mindedness to Georgie that spoke of years of independence. She was a tough cookie.

Satisfied that Georgette was drinking, Effie walked over to the desk and took an inquisitive peek. “Now that the business of self-care is done, let’s talk about the fun of business. Find anything worthwhile about those rocks yet?”

⚿

#m: euphemia #c: georgette #thread: georgette.e001

[of-beasts-and-blood]

anna-wit-locked​:

Anna snorted a laugh into her nearly empty cup. “We should make ourselves badges or something. That would really drive him mad.” Oh he would hate it so much. All his time away had really stored up Anna’s annoy-your-baby-brother vibes. If she didn’t do something truly silly soon she’d probably explode or something.

“You can absolutely buy me a drink. I just had sex in a broom closet, I think I deserve at least one more drink.” Anna still couldn’t believe that had actually happened. This whole night felt deeply fake. 

-

“Badges and matching shirts. Declan and I share a cupboard and it would be deeply entertaining for him to keep finding the shirt when looking for something to wear in the morning.” Oh yes, this was definitely why Declan had kept them apart for so long. 

Edith was chaotic, but hers was a chaos that forcibly swept up everyone around her. He and Declan were in the same boat against her, holding on for dear life as she chose the adventure. But Anna… Anna’s chaos was quieter. More subtle. Hers came with a naughty smile that brought you in on the joke with her. 

Theo had to admit, he liked being in on the joke. 

He signaled the bartender over and ordered two drinks from the special menu neatly stuck up behind the counter. What exactly they were, he had no idea. But they were named after the fighters and they looked fun.

☠

#m: fyodor #c: anna #thread: anna.f001

[of-beasts-and-blood]

Simu Liu | Barbie World Premiere, Los Angeles 2023

#about: clifford #hey simu? what is this outfit #simu i cant

[of-beasts-and-blood]

Archetypes | Task 11

James Potter

♔

#about: james #tasks #adhonoremtask #adhonoremtask011

[of-beasts-and-blood]

Archetypes | Task 11

Shivaun Reaver

✍

#about: shivaun #tasks #adhonoremtask #adhonoremtask011 #tw: hands #?

[of-beasts-and-blood]

Archetypes | Task 11

Euphemia Abernathy

⚿

#about: euphemia #tasks #adhonoremtask #adhonoremtask011

[of-beasts-and-blood]

Archetypes | Task 11

John 'Jack' Doe

⚠

#about: jack #tasks #adhonoremtask #adhonoremtask011

[of-beasts-and-blood]

Archetypes | Task 11

Harrison 'Pepper' Marchbanks

🕸

#about: harrison #tasks #adhonoremtask #adhonoremtask011

[of-beasts-and-blood]

:-)

#about: devereaux

[of-beasts-and-blood]

Character Intro

✉ Basics: Name: Ivelisse Cassidy Pronunciation: Eve-eh-lease Cass-id-ee Meaning: Ivelisse ~ “life” Cassidy ~ “curly-haired” Birthday: June 15th, 1957 (Gemini) Age: 25 Gender: Female Pronouns: she/her and they/them Sexuality: Queer Siblings: N/A Mother: N/A Father: N/A Other Family: George Calloway, Wren Carver, Penny Lane, Marco Ladron, Auden Reyes. Anyone who is friendly with the Crew becomes part of Cassidy’s extended family.  Languages: English, bits and pieces of Dominican Spanish (but not enough to speak it) Current Residence: Camden, London Hometown: Central London. Cassidy was born the second she entered Diagon Alley.

✉

✉ Wizard Fun: School: Cassidy did not attend school past the age of 11. House: N/A Year of Graduation: N/A Occupation: Bookseller and secret-trader. Pet: Part-time babysitter of Baby, the bestest girl ever. Blood Status: Muggleborn Species: Human Patronus: A hawk. Swift, keen-eyed and free.  Boggart: The Crew, tall and warped and leering at her. They tell her she was never one of them, among other suitably nasty things. Death is not something Cassidy fears. But rejection is.  Amortentia Scent: Fire Wand type: Black walnut, unicorn tail hair core, 9 inches. Affiliation: Neutral. Cassidy’s only loyalty is to the Crew.

✉ Appearance: Face Claim: Indya Moore Height: 5’7 Hair Color: Brown or black, depending on what she’s done with her hair most recently. Eye Color: Brown Typical Hair Style: Cassidy styles her hair often. It’s freeing, having hair to play with and change your whole vibe based on its cut. Her favourite look is to have her hair curled and loose, letting the light catch the outline of her afro like a halo.  Fashion Style: Completely eclectic. Cassidy shops exclusively at thrift stores so her wardrobe spans many styles and decades. She likes clothes that make her look tall and draw attention to her legs - like short shorts and long jackets. She likes gaudy pieces with sequins and faux fur and terrible neon colours. She knows how to pull together a sophisticated look, but mostly she just wears clothes for the fun of them.  Distinguishing Features: Perfectly manicured nails. A knowing smile. That extra bounce in her step that bounces her hair and sways her hips. 

✉ Personality: Positive Traits: Trustworthy, artful, kind, friendly, empathetic Negative Traits: Yearning, insecure, mysterious, secretive, forgiving Quick Facts: Can sew. Can embroider. Can knit. Thinks ‘tutti frutti’ is the funniest flavour name. Not a fan of most wizarding candy. Likes bike-riding. Has a box of meaningful mementos under her bed. Likes spiders.  Hobbies: Reading. Poetry. Riding the London buses to different stops aimlessly, just to take in the sights. Trying new creative pursuits, even if she’s bad at them.  Skills: Great at numbers. Great at words. Good at mystery. Bad at magic. Bad at riding her bike. Okay at cooking. Good at standing her ground. Bad at completely opening up. Bad at most betting games she plays with the Crew.  Theme song: “Masterpiece (80s Remix)” by Summer C

✉ Headcanons:

Voice: Warm. Smooth. Her tone is usually playful, teasing. There’s a sense of familiarity to most of her interactions that feels welcome more than overbearing. She tends to speak a little slower so you hang on every word. Imagine what a cat would sound like if it spoke English. That’s Cassidy.

Handwriting: Elegant cursive. Like the kind of writing you’d see on an old love letter in a movie. She likes to embellish her capital letters in a sort-of calligraphy way, with extra lines and dots and adornments. 

Cassidy’s name is fully self-chosen. Ivelisse is the name of one of her Dominican great-aunts. She never met the woman, but heard enough stories about her to know that she was the type of person whose heritage Cassidy would like to honour. Her last name is a nod to George. Back in the bad old days, on the nights when she was restless or uneasy, Georgie would tell her stories of outlaws and ruffians and outcasts who forged their own path. She took her name from one of the baddest: Butch Cassidy. Cassidy’s name is a reflection of her whole: her first name honours her past, while her last name promises her future. 

Cassidy loved mathematics at school and used to spend her small earnings buying secondhand textbooks. She taught herself basic bookkeeping as well, and now does all of her stock calculations and     bookkeeping ledgers for Vellichor herself. 

Charity work is important to Cassidy. She donates a fair portion of her earnings to the local school lunch programs and knits blankets during the colder months for the homeless. She knows how close to homelessness she came multiple times, and kindness saved her every time. 

Cassidy only knows basic magic. She has a little book of household spells she’s taught herself, as well as defensive magic at Georgie’s behest. Were she ever to be involved in a fight, she’d more likely drop the wand and swing a punch. Her nails are long for a reason. 

Nicknames are her love language. Her insistence on referring to Wren as Wrenjamin is deeply amusing to herself. 

She is the absolute worst at impressions. It’s funny, considering how well she can read people. But she cannot emulate their mannerisms or voice to save her life. 

Cassidy has defaced furniture in Georgie’s office and his, Wren and Penny’s homes. Shh, it’s a secret. 

Cassidy’s home is decorated with just as eclectic a style as she dresses herself. She tries a lot of once-off hobbies and proudly keeps the results. 

Though Cassidy borders on it sometimes, she’s not a Manic Pixie Dream Girl. The fact that she draws people into her sphere is more for her own fun than trying to teach them the meaning of life. She simply enjoys people.

Cassidy once posed as a nude model for an art class. She bought all of the resulting sketches and keeps them in her closet. 

#m: cassidy #about: cassidy #character introduction

[of-beasts-and-blood]

Character Intro

☢ Basics: Name: Lonnie Gilmore Pronunciation: Lon-ee Gill-more Meaning: Lonnie ~ “noble and ready” Gilmore ~ “great servant” Birthday: October 27th, 1947 (Scorpio) Age: 35 Gender: Male Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: Heterosexual Siblings: A younger sister, Connie Gilmore Mother: Barbara Gilmore Father: Giovanni Romero Other Family: N/A Languages: English. Current Residence: Ladonhill Castle, Wales. Hometown: San Francisco, California.

☢

☢ Wizard Fun: School: Not Ilvermorny, that’s for damn sure.  House: N/A Year of Graduation: Who cares.  Occupation: Bartender Pet: None - though he feeds Winnie’s dragons enough to feel some sort of duty of care towards them.  Blood Status: Half-blood. Squib. Species: Human Patronus: He’ll never know :) Boggart: Darkness. Complete and utter blackness. Hopelessness. Lonnie has always been a fighter. Even if the darkest of times, he’s always had enough determination to claw his way out. His biggest fear would be reaching that one time he can’t. Where everything is meaningless and he can’t do anything to change it.  Amortentia Scent: Cheap booze, wax crayons, that smell when you open a jar of jelly candy, the ocean.  Wand type: No wand.  Affiliation: Death Eaters. 

☢ Appearance: Face Claim: Milo Ventimiglia Height: 5’9 Hair Color: Dark brown Eye Color: Brown Typical Hair Style: A little on the shorter side, but still long enough to style. His hair just touches his collar and it’s usually styled to one side. It’s nothing remarkable.  Fashion Style: Mostly button-ups, jeans and ties. He has a few sets of dress pants and waistcoats for formal events. When he’s not working, he wears jackets too against the stupid cold. His favourite item of clothing is a well-worn flight jacket.  Distinguishing Features: Usually pretty deadpan. Crooked mouth. 

☢ Personality: Positive Traits: Indomitable, serious, charismatic (at work), paternal, hard-working, hopeful. Negative Traits: Bitter, misguided, scheming, jealous. Quick Facts: Can cook. Can sew. Can dance. Has a muggle driver’s licence. Has a motorbike licence. Has a motorbike (don’t tell Winnie). Has a sense of humour, but it’s very dry and very rare. Hobbies: Potion-making. Reading about aspects of the Wizarding World. Window-shopping. Exploring wizarding gathering spots. Why do so many of his hobbies make him feel like an outsider? Skills: Great at potions. Okay at playing well with others. Good at deflecting insults. Bad at maintaining interpersonal relationships. Bad at small talk. Good at those cool bartender flick-flack tricks. Not good at being a brother anymore. Great at keeping himself alive. Theme song: “Life Is a Lemon and I Want My Money Back” by Meat Loaf

☢ Headcanons:

Voice: The kind of gruff tone that doesn’t make you want to clear your own throat. He hasn’t got a memorable laugh, or one of those deep voices that makes you blush, or even the best accent. But his voice is pleasing on the ear and unremarkable enough that you don’t remember it when you finish talking to him. Lonnie fades into the crowd well. Speaks with an American accent.

Handwriting: Bad. Oh god, it’s so awful. Chicken scratch. It’s like the second he left school, he forgot how to write legibly. 

Lonnie is a master of the silent treatment. He and his mom barely exchanged words while Connie was at school and not living with them. Even when his sister was there, he got away with speaking very little in common spaces. He didn’t bother telling her he was leaving America. She wouldn’t have noticed anyway.

The only time he’s ever ignored Connie outright is when she came home once during her second year at Ilvermorny and proudly announced that he was what the kids at school called a ‘squib’. It was the first time she had separated the two of them as different. Before then, it hadn’t mattered that she had magic and he didn’t. It wasn’t something they talked about. But her world had a word specifically for someone ordinary like him, and it bugged him that she informed him so proudly. He didn’t speak to her for the remainder of her holiday.

Lonnie is used to the impermanence of home. During his final high school year in particular, he spent a lot of time away from his mother’s house. He would crash on friend’s couches or sleep in his car. He’s used to carving a space for himself where there shouldn’t be space. The fact that he’s living in an actual castle now is completely wild to him. 

Lonnie thinks Winnie’s dragons are cool. He always wanted a dog growing up, but this kind of blows that out of the water.

Even now, years later and buried under a thick layer of denial, Lonnie still wishes he would wake up and be magical. 

Lonnie likes jazz music and sometimes spends his evenings off at a jazz bar he likes in Camden. 

#m: lonnie #about: lonnie #character introduction

[of-beasts-and-blood]

Character Intro

🖌 Basics: Name: Devereaux Sauvage Junior Pronunciation: Dev-er-oh Sew-vahge  Meaning: Devereaux ~ "bank of the river" Sauvage ~ “untamed” Junior ~ "the younger one" Birthday: September 25th, 1959 (Libra) Age: 23 Gender: Demiboy Pronouns: he/him (and they/them) Sexuality: Demisexual Siblings: Two older sisters, Marie-Joëlle and Blanche Mathilde Mother: Rosemonde Sauvage Father: Devereaux Sauvage Senior Other Family: N/A Languages: French, English, Latin Current Residence: Aix-en-Provence, France  Hometown: Aix-en-Provence, France

🖌

🖌 Wizard Fun: School: Beauxbatons House: Papillonlisse  Year of Graduation: 1977 Occupation: Junior Spellsmith at the French Ministry of Magic Pet: A crup named D’Artagnan Blood Status: Pureblood Patronus: A crup. Little, but fierce - like someone else in his life that might protect him. Boggart: His father discovering his secrets and scolding him for it. It starts as a trail of broken and torn artworks on the ground and if he doesn’t pull himself away, the scene gets progressively worse.  Amortentia Scent: Fresh paint, D’Artagnan’s wet fur, lilies, mushrooms frying in butter Wand type: Pine, dragon heartstring, 9 ½ inches Affiliation: Death Eaters (but strongly hates their beliefs)

🖌 Appearance: Face Claim: Austin Abrams Height: 5’8 Hair Colour: Dark blonde Eye Colour: Hazel - the kind that seem to change colour in different lights Typical Hair Style: Fwoopy. His hair is soft and long enough to want to run your fingers through. He wears it brushed to the right, forming curls around his ears and at the back of his neck. For work and formal events, he does gel it back.  Fashion Style: Rich and comfortable. He wears sweaters, knits and jackets that look expensive. If he had his way though, his closet would be just as full of loose shirts and men’s blouses and more flowery prints.  Distinguishing Features: Generally looks tired. Resting bitch face away from public events. Dazzling conversationalist at public events. Dog at his side wherever possible.

🖌 Personality and Interests: Positive Traits: Attentive, well-rounded, sociable, promising, expressive. Negative Traits: Dry, snooty, selfish, apathetic, vain. Quick Facts: Can paint (duh). Likes jogging. Can only cook maybe 5 meals tops. Feels alone. Would die for his dog. Would kill for his dog.  Hobbies: Painting. People watching. Reading the papers. Going to art galleries for hours at a time. Walking D’Artagnan in nature.  Skills: Good at playing a role. Bad at keeping his cool around Laure. Good at painting. Great at making a statement. Good at horse riding. Great at finding hiding spots for items. Bad at intimidation.  Theme song: “Prince of the Hanging Gardens” by Beatenberg

🖌 Headcanons:

Voice: Devereaux’s voice changes depending on the situation. He’s been trained to be a good guest or host at parties, so he tends to sound livelier then. His voice is usually a little nasal though as he is very French, with a touch of vocal fry. A generous helping of vocal fry when he’s talking to friends. He speaks English with a strong French accent.

Handwriting: Cursive. He fills out a lot of Ministry forms on the daily, so his writing has to be legible.

Devereaux’s crup’s name follows a naming convention started by his eldest sister, Marie-Joëlle. Her first pet was a crup named Porthos, who all three children doted upon. She then named her owl bought for school Athos. When she left home, she bought twin puppies for her remaining siblings without asking permission from her parents, marking the first and only sign of defiance she ever showed. Blanche Mathilde chose the name Aramis, and Devereaux’s hound ended up as D’Artagnan. 

Devereaux has synaesthesia. When he hears or says a person’s name, he has a strong association with a colour. 

He suffers from periods of depersonalisation. He’s never told anyone about it. 

Under the pseudonym Vérité, he frequently defaces public property with graffiti protesting the Death Eaters as well as old-fashioned pureblood society. 

Devereaux dreams of having his artwork up in a gallery, but has never voiced this desire. Not only has his father actively discouraged his artistic pursuits, but Devereaux isn’t sure he’s talented enough. His work comes from the heart and that makes it hard for him to look at objectively. 

Devereaux only learnt how to swim due to the amount of times Laure shoved him into rivers and ponds growing up.

Devereaux loves eclairs. Melted chocolate on his fingertips reminds him of his childhood days with René and Laure, licking all of the chocolate and cream off of the pastry and throwing bits of the dough to feed the ducks.

#m: devereaux #about: devereaux #character introduction

[of-beasts-and-blood]

Character Intro

☘Basics: Name: Clifford Gu Pronunciation: Cliff-fird Gu Meaning: Clifford ~ "lives near the ford by the cliff" Gu ~ “to care for”  Birthday: May 1st, 1952 (Taurus) Age: 31 Gender: Male Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: Pansexual Siblings: None Mother: Diu Gu Father: Feng Gu Other Family: His father’s family live in America. Clifford has a grandmother, aunt and uncle, and their branches of family.  Languages: Cantonese, English, American Sign Language, Medical Latin Current Residence: London, England Hometown: San Francisco, California

☘

☘ Wizard Fun: School: Ilvermorny House: Pukwudgie Year of Graduation: 1970 Occupation: Botanist/Herbologist Pet: None. Unless his plants count? They’re living beings and he feeds and cares for them. Blood Status: Half-blood Patronus: A phoenix. Both a symbol of rebirth and his family’s crest, it feels fitting. He jokes that it’s a Mandrake though.  Boggart: A hospital hallway, lined with sick and dying patients who call for him and cling at him.  Amortentia Scent: Petrichor, citrus, strong chinese green tea, fresh nail polish. Wand type: Willow, dragon heartstring, 12 inches Affiliation: True neutral

☘ Appearance: Face Claim: Simu Liu Height: 6’0 Hair Colour: Black Eye Colour: Dark Brown Typical Hair Style: Neatly trimmed, often swooped over to one side. Sometimes it forms a little curl on his forehead.  Fashion Style: Well-tailored. Clifford has a sense of style from his childhood years of being dressed by his family, which has followed him despite himself. He’s just moved on from Zhongshan suits to simple sweaters, waistcoats and long coats. When he’s in his garden, he wears comfy clothes and a gardening apron as well as the ugliest wellingtons. He tends to dress in more muted colours normally, but wears bright and patterned socks to make up for it. He also wears ear cuffs and other decorations on his deaf ear.  Distinguishing Features: Incredibly easy aura. A hearing aid or jewellery on his right ear. Sometimes, dirt smears on his forehead when he’s been working and has only popped out of the house briefly. 

☘ Personality and Interests: Positive Traits: Gentle, steadfast, patient, hardy, non-judgemental  Negative Traits: Reserved, apologetic, detached, naive, self-deprecating, aloof Quick Facts: Can dance. Talks to plants. Has a full Healer’s qualification. Has studied a fair amount of non-magical medicine too. Can do non-verbal spells to an extent. Makes a killer broth. Is agile. Uses chalk boards to make notes in his home. Reads sci-fi books.  Hobbies: Gardening. Sketching plants. Spending time in Suavis Gardens.  Skills: Good at lying on paper. Bad at lying in person. Good with plants. Good with medical magic. Okay at non-medical magic. Good at playing the fool.  Theme song: “Plant Life” by Owl City

☘ Headcanons:

Voice: Warm af. His words come out a little swallowed sometimes due to his disability, but years of practice and speech therapy have helped him through the worst of it. 

Handwriting: While one is tempted to make Clifford’s handwriting the typical doctor’s mess, he actually has pretty neat handwriting. He writes a lot of notes about his plants, often curled around drawn diagrams of them, so he forms small, curled letters that are easy on the eyes. 

Clifford’s birth name is Chaoxiang, meaning “expecting fortune”. His mom chose his American name because it had a lot of nickname potential for him.

When Clifford was young, he never understood the true purpose of talking to plants. He didn’t understand the exchange of carbon dioxide. Instead, he thought they genuinely needed the verbal encouragement. Despite now knowing the truth, he still converses with his plants and encourages other inanimate objects while using them. 

Ask Clifford to draw a flower, and he’s great. It’s fully detailed and to scale and worthy of being in any of his botany books. Ask him to draw literally anything else? It’s terrible. The worst. This is the kind of man who would draw horses how they appear in old artworks. Awful. 

Once he and Enes became friends in school, Cliff became the worst person to get up to shenanigans with. Not only was he terrible at lying to teachers, but they also tended to believe he was innocent himself, leading to a remarkably low detention count. 

Cliff is surprisingly built. He lives a healthy lifestyle and probably exercises, because there is no other canon justification for him to be as buff as his FC. 

In another life, Clifford would’ve liked to go to a muggle university for a proper degree in botany. 

He isn’t sure where it came from, but Cliff has a love for independent sci-fi novels. Something about life on a spaceship reminds him of life at school. He also likes the guesses at what futuristic medicine could look like.

#m: clifford #about: clifford #character introduction

[of-beasts-and-blood]

Character Intro

☠Basics: Name: Fyodor Bychkov Pronunciation: Fee-o-dore Beach-kov Meaning: Fyodor ~ ‘divine gift’ Bychkov ~ a family name connected to animals. The meaning of the name is ‘bull’, and denotes a family that is strongly built and powerful. Birthday: May 15, 1960 (Taurus) Age: 23  Gender: Male Pronouns: he/him Sexuality: Bisexual Siblings: Anna Whitlock Mother: Ksenia Bychkov Father: Andrei Bychkov Other Family: None Languages: Russian, English, minor French (mostly curse words, likely), small bits of British Sign Language Current Residence: Declan’s apartment, please free him. His and Declan’s shared living space, somewhere in London  Hometown: Satka, Satkinsky. The reserve was far out of town, due to its magical nature. 

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☠ Wizard Fun: School: Durmstrang  House: Atticus House Year of Graduation: 1978 Occupation: Unemployed Pet: He wishes :(  Blood Status: Pureblood Patronus: A graphorn. The creature is just too intrinsically tied into Fyodor’s being to be anything else. However, it’s a double-edged sword. Even if Fyodor were to be happy enough to conjure more than a thin wisp, the sight of the graphorn would definitely make him falter. Boggart: His father, severing his ‘attachments’. In general, Fyodor wasn’t afraid of his father. He admired his work ethic, his strength of magic and his ability to provide for his family. Yet he can no longer separate that man from the one who killed his favourite creature just to prove his point. His Boggart takes the form of his father, taunting him and torturing him about something - or someone - that Fyodor holds dear to him. Even if he closes his eyes, he can see the flash of green that follows. He can hear their cries and then… nothing. Amortentia Scent: Freshly-ploughed earth, medical sanitiser, beef stroganoff simmering on the stove. Wand type: Custom-made by Mykew Gregorovitch, made of Hawthorn with a Graphorn tentacle core. 12 inches. Affiliation: Neutral, but still on the border of Death Eater society as he treads a dangerous line.

☠ Appearance: Face Claim: Noel Fisher Height: 5’7” (he’s short and stocky) Hair Colour: Black Eye Colour: Blue-grey Typical Hair Style: Having spent his school years with a constant buzzcut, Fyodor is only now letting his hair grow out a little. Though it’s still short, the extra inches from his old look make him feel like a new man.  Fashion Style: Style? What is this? Fyodor, stylish? It’s less likely than you think. Having only packed very few of his clothes from Russia, his wardrobe is very eclectic. He wears sleeveless vests with jackets over them, fur coats when it’s snowing and - let’s be real - very little when he’s relaxing at home. He just looks like he walked into his closet and it spat him out again. The man needs help. He’s so used to the Russian winters that anything England throws at him is a balmy day to him.  Distinguishing Features: Scars, scars, scars. You don’t grow up raising creatures without getting a few injuries. His arms and legs tell that story, patterned with a few nicks that he will happily tell you about - at least, on his non-Dark Mark arm. His left knee is also a bit stiff following the time he got his knee cap shattered during a Re’em stampede he caused. His parents healed the bone, but not 100%. Their parenting style was all about lessons, and this was one that he’d have to bear for life. He also has a very distinct way of pulling his mouth when he speaks. 

☠ Personality and Interests: Positive Traits: Caring, hard-working, humble, a good listener. Negative Traits: Complaisant, undecided, stubborn, reluctant to open up.  Quick Facts: Left-handed. Cannot wink. Can sing. Likes Firewhiskey. Likes all seasons equally. Particularly enjoys jumping in leaf piles. Can’t swim. Smiles easily. Teases those he likes mercilessly.  Hobbies: Cooking. Fighting (well, previously). Waiting for Declan to come home. Running away from his problems. Sometimes reading Declan’s medical textbooks so he can throw in a fancy word or two during casual conversations.  Skills: Fair at cooking. Great with animals. Good with his fists. Bad with his wand.  Theme song: “Glitter & Gold” by Barns Courtney. 

☠ Headcanons:

Voice: Fyodor’s voice is deep and his Russian accent is thick. His elocution is good enough to not struggle with pronunciation, but his accent is always there. It’s in the roll of his R’s, in the guttural H’s and the general hum of his tone. 

Handwriting: Surprisingly neat. As a child, Fyodor would make notes on his daily activities, and they had to be legible enough to refer back to. His letters slant to the right and are small in size, allowing for more information per page. He once tried out dotting his i’s with X’s, but promptly stopped the habit during his first year at Durmstrang.

Because of its origin, Fyodor has not bonded with his wand. He never managed elegant spells, and even conjuring a simple Lumos took effort. An educated wandmaker could easily detect an air of melancholy coming from the object - one that could probably vanish if Fyodor embraced the bond he once held with his wand’s core. When at home, Fyodor does not carry his wand around with him, instead leaving it in its holster on his bedside table. In public, he has it with him, but barely uses it - though this isn’t necessarily something someone would immediately notice. 

Fyodor enjoys cooking. This only became evident once he left Russia and lived on his own. He had to make himself meals that would last him as long as they could and, having watched his mother cook over the years, he figured it couldn’t be too hard. He surprisingly took to it like a Kelpie to water, even going as far to buy himself some recipe books from a local bookshop in Paris. He makes a mean French onion soup, and his dumplings are his pride and joy. He’s recently taken to trying out sweet recipes - but don’t tell Declan. It’s a surprise. 

Fyodor misses the creature-rearing life, but he’s worried about trying to enter the London creature scene. How could he explain his proficiency with animals and not delve into his past? It was better to leave it alone. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t shoot longing glances at the Growls and Howls clinic wanted ads in the paper though. 

Fyodor is convinced that Sprinkles is a Jarvey in deep hiding, and keeps attempting to teach his cuss words when Declan isn’t home. 

Fyodor is shorter than both Whitlock siblings - something that amuses them greatly. Despite this, he can easily haul them both off their feet and over his shoulder. Separately, of course. He’s not that strong. Unless…..

He never realised how boring being a single child was until he met Anna. Now he’s completely adopted her as his sister and formed a bond almost as strong as if she was his biological sister. 

#m: fyodor #about: bych please #character introduction