Nothing seems to make the universe plot feverishly for one’s humiliation more than attempting to maintain one’s dignity.
It is with a decidedly undignified thump that Hesper Devandris of House Devandris, bastard eldest daughter of powerful Elven mage Lord Maedhros Devandris himself, finds herself face-down in the sod, sprawled half-on and half-off of some other poor hapless soul. Not for the first time, admittedly, but certainly not since her University days, and definitely never in public. The force of it knocks her ridiculous hat clean off her head, and wrests an un-ladylike ”UMPHH” from her lungs, before she shifts herself upright and, in one swift move, back to her feet (and thankfully off off whoever was unlucky enough to have broken her fall).
“Well.” She peers around, dusting herself off and mercifully deigning to pretend that that crashlanding simply did not happen. Her gaze sweeps over and quickly past the poor individual she’d flattened, switching to assessing her surroundings and clearly finding them somewhat lacking. She’s not worried whether anyone saw that— of course they did, it happened and people were around, it’s no longer worth concerning herself with worrying about— but whether or not anyone who might be responsible for such a shitshow of a teleportation is nearby so that she can do her level best to end their fucking career.
“Where’s the attendant for this circle? What kind of pissant hedge-mage is teleporting people without permission and allowing them to collide, mid-teleport? Have they no concept of how dangerous that is?”
Beware, Kamurkia: a rich woman would like to speak to your manager!
--2. Town Tricks
Every wizard’s Arcane Focus is different, but they are always personal. Some use an orb, or an amulet. For Hesper, it is a crystal; a simple carved point of Larvikite, small enough to be kept in her palm, its edges worried smooth from years of skin contact. The stone itself is somewhat less than precious, but Hesper had always found its variegated tones of grey and the depth of its mineral-flake composition… soothing, in its way.
She’d chosen it because it resonated with her magic, and hadn’t given a thought to its appearance. Her father had been surprised she hadn’t chosen something more beautiful, more flashy. She’d told him that grey goes with everything.
She reaches deep into her pocket to take its comforting cool presence into her hand—
—and it is not there.
Hesper listens for a moment, suspicious. There it is— a tiny, distant giggling. She removes her hat, reaches inside, and removes her Focus.
Her eyes fall closed, and a bone-deep sigh escapes her.
“Fucking pixies.”
--3. Rocky Talky
Name: Hesper Devandris, of House Devandris. Yes, that House Devandris. Age: 31. Race: Half-Elf. Rude of you to ask. Favorite soup? Why?: Potato-Leek, as long as there are bits of bacon in. Is soup something you eat or drink? Considering the amount of soups with large, chewable bits involved, anyone insisting that one only drinks soup is either a lackwit with no gag reflex or oppositionally defiant to an absurd degree. Both are wasting my time.
--4. Wildcard
[ hello!! I’m Anna and I’m voicetesting this overeducated undersocialized abjuration wizard!! Her canon setting is a slightly more modern D&D-based world, think closer to a steampunk-but-magic-type than Lord of the Rings-type. She is ota, please feel free to tag with anything you like or ignore as you wish! I am on plurk at pornographictoile. Her journal isn’t finished so if you have questions please feel free to ask!! ]
Hesper Devandris, D&D 5e oc, ota!
Nothing seems to make the universe plot feverishly for one’s humiliation more than attempting to maintain one’s dignity.
It is with a decidedly undignified thump that Hesper Devandris of House Devandris, bastard eldest daughter of powerful Elven mage Lord Maedhros Devandris himself, finds herself face-down in the sod, sprawled half-on and half-off of some other poor hapless soul. Not for the first time, admittedly, but certainly not since her University days, and definitely never in public. The force of it knocks her ridiculous hat clean off her head, and wrests an un-ladylike ”UMPHH” from her lungs, before she shifts herself upright and, in one swift move, back to her feet (and thankfully off off whoever was unlucky enough to have broken her fall).
“Well.” She peers around, dusting herself off and mercifully deigning to pretend that that crashlanding simply did not happen. Her gaze sweeps over and quickly past the poor individual she’d flattened, switching to assessing her surroundings and clearly finding them somewhat lacking. She’s not worried whether anyone saw that— of course they did, it happened and people were around, it’s no longer worth concerning herself with worrying about— but whether or not anyone who might be responsible for such a shitshow of a teleportation is nearby so that she can do her level best to end their fucking career.
“Where’s the attendant for this circle? What kind of pissant hedge-mage is teleporting people without permission and allowing them to collide, mid-teleport? Have they no concept of how dangerous that is?”
Beware, Kamurkia: a rich woman would like to speak to your manager!
--2. Town Tricks
Every wizard’s Arcane Focus is different, but they are always personal. Some use an orb, or an amulet. For Hesper, it is a crystal; a simple carved point of Larvikite, small enough to be kept in her palm, its edges worried smooth from years of skin contact. The stone itself is somewhat less than precious, but Hesper had always found its variegated tones of grey and the depth of its mineral-flake composition… soothing, in its way.
She’d chosen it because it resonated with her magic, and hadn’t given a thought to its appearance. Her father had been surprised she hadn’t chosen something more beautiful, more flashy. She’d told him that grey goes with everything.
She reaches deep into her pocket to take its comforting cool presence into her hand—
—and it is not there.
Hesper listens for a moment, suspicious. There it is— a tiny, distant giggling. She removes her hat, reaches inside, and removes her Focus.
Her eyes fall closed, and a bone-deep sigh escapes her.
“Fucking pixies.”
--3. Rocky Talky
Name: Hesper Devandris, of House Devandris. Yes, that House Devandris.
Age: 31.
Race: Half-Elf. Rude of you to ask.
Favorite soup? Why?: Potato-Leek, as long as there are bits of bacon in.
Is soup something you eat or drink? Considering the amount of soups with large, chewable bits involved, anyone insisting that one only drinks soup is either a lackwit with no gag reflex or oppositionally defiant to an absurd degree. Both are wasting my time.
--4. Wildcard
[ hello!! I’m Anna and I’m voicetesting this overeducated undersocialized abjuration wizard!! Her canon setting is a slightly more modern D&D-based world, think closer to a steampunk-but-magic-type than Lord of the Rings-type. She is ota, please feel free to tag with anything you like or ignore as you wish! I am on plurk at pornographictoile. Her journal isn’t finished so if you have questions please feel free to ask!! ]