Jamie ⚓️
alwaystheview
- Created
- 2 years, 11 months ago
- Creator
- alwaystheview
- Favorites
- 2
Basic Info
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Daemon:
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Fossa (Finley, she/her)
Profile
FEATURED CHARACTER
I play Jamie in an ongoing D&D campaign, Honeysuckle and Iron. He really is one of the most predicable sort of character for me to make, and he has easily become one of my favorites to play and write.quote
-by .Jamie McKae
About
he/him . 23 . . |
Jamie, born noble but raised among pirates, has called the sea his home for as long as he can remember. Even when he has adventured on land, it was the sea he was always drawn back to. Perhaps it's the way the Moon pulls on him, the same way she does the tides. If only his own music would do the same as hers. A lycan with a restlessness calmed only somewhat during the new moon, it isn't uncommon for him to play his fiddle for hours on end without recognizing the passage of time, until the moon sets and her song goes quieter once again.
Right now, he travels on land to satiate a curiosity for the bits of his past from too long ago to properly remember.
Likes
- Honeycomb.
- Peaches and plums.
- The Ocean.
- Being a nusaince.
Dislikes
- Not being allowed to eat chocolate and grapes.
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Trivia & Prompts
- Jamie's favorite fruits are peaches and plums. He goes feral for honeycombs.
- Jamie's magic is subtle, and flowing. Colorful, shining lightly, almost like spiderwebs in moonlight. His magic blows in like a fog off the sea, like warm breath in winter, like a creeping normality that you don't notice until it's too late.
- (What would your OC be the avatar of in the TMA universe?) Jamie would be an avatar of the Spiral. Music that calls to you and draws you in, like the Moon pulls at the Sea and the Wolf. A brutality that would lend itself to the Hunt, except too much of his reasoning is whims, and not a need to chase. It's so much easier to lure into a trap, than it is to track and chase and hunt, after all. He would be on the edge of the Vast and the Spiral, perhaps with a smattering of the Buried, teetering, his domain a ship, gently swaying except for when it lurches harshly, throwing you into a wall or pushing you down the endless, twisting corridors. There's water at your feet, and you're not sure how many decks up it is until you can breathe the fresh sea air again. You can only find stairwells that lead down.
- (Your OC as a villan) Jamie would be a true and proper pirate. No heartsickness calling him ashore in search of something he can't remember, can't even figure out. No diplomacy, willingness to allow sailors to live to be stolen from again. No sympathy for those who can't handle the cannons, or the blood. No consequences for he who can disappear out to sea like a cool breeze. Nothing but freedom for he who captains his ship toward the storm.
ATTENTION
This section contains spoilers for the Honeysuckle & Iron campaign. Fellow players, look away!Story
Early Life
Jamie, arms full of a single rabbit, along side his elder brother who together haul in a deer, assisting their mother in unloading her cart from her hunting trip. So eager to assist, he takes the knife carefully in his hand, guided gently by his mother's soft voice. He makes a mess of the pelt, but it's only a single rabbit. He'll do better, next time.
Jamie, sitting beside his father as he cooks, telling him all about how he prepared the meet "almost all by myself, papa!" Quiet and distracted hums of acknowledgement are all he receives in return, but that's alright. His father is cooking, and Jamie can't expect all that attention while he's busy.
Jamie, sitting at the top of the stairs, so quiet, hardly breathing, even though he knows his mother wouldn't be able to hear him, not with the scolding his brother is getting at the moment. "You can't just shift like that whenever you want! You might've hurt someone! You're lucky you're not good enough with those teeth to catch more than a squirrel, young man." "Ease up on him, honey," his father's voice replies. "He's young. You can't say you've never been a bit unwise." "It's different, for us." All Jamie can think of is his brother's voice from behind a door: "She shifts whenever she wants and it works out fine. Isn't she always saying something about how everything takes practice?" All he can think about is his mother's voice once she and his father are alone, weak and cracking: "I made plenty of mistakes. I want our children to learn from them. Not only make their own."
Jamie, picking wildflowers for his mother for her birthday.
Jamie, rain-soaked fur, scratched and torn paws, aching muscles as he runs and runs and runs and runs. The thunder without the preceding lightning. The howl of his family, scattered in the storm. He runs.
Jamie, praying to Sint Micha to protect his family, wherever they are. Praying for them to find him, to bring him home. For at least one, so he need not be so alone.
Jamie, alone, hungry, hurting. The moon rises over the ocean, and they call to him.
Adolescence
Jamie, praying to Sint Micha to protect his family, and to Sint Marius to guide the ship he now resides on. It is not home, it only carries him away, so achingly far, from home, but.. it keeps the rain from him. What more can he ask for, right now?
Jamie, so eager to please, so hopeful for praise, working until he can't keep his eyes open by the day's end, but practicing his knots in his cot until he falls asleep. He earns a pat on the head from a fellow sailor, or a nod from the captain, and his heart soars.
Jamie, climbing up to the crow's nest, and searching for the horizon. Nothing but sea greets him. He finds doesn't miss the sight of land. He searches only for the delight he feels to see none.
Jamie, the full moon singing and howling and pulling at him, extracting the wolf from him, shoving his human mind away. The pirates' swords gleam in the silver light. His teeth do the same.
Adulthood
Jamie, muscles aching, eyelids drooping, but fighting, still. The pirate kneels before him, hat shadowing her face, eyes bright beneath. "Pup," she calls him, as if he had no other name. His heart aches at the word. "Cachorro. You don't belong here. You and I can both see that." His crew is beaten, crates and barrels carted off this ship and onto theirs. "Look how you fight, when all the rest of them have given up." No weapons in sight, except those in the pirates' hands. "Don't you want to know what it's like to really rule the seas?"
Jamie, a length of rope in his hands as he ties and unties and ties and unties knots, the familiarity of only that and not his cot or the hull or the creak of the ship lulling him to sleep.
Jamie, elbows off the table, quiet, head low. "Look at this whelp. He's got manners! Where'd you pick 'im up, again, Captain?" Elena Maria Paz laughs. His face heats.
Jamie, peering slyly at the boy peering slyly at him, eyes meeting and darting away. His name is Felipe.
Jamie, unable to sit still, finding himself so at home on this ship of pirates, so much more than the ship before. Why is that? What is it, that does this to him?
Jamie, arms crossed as the surgeon threads the needle. Ought to stay below deck. Ought to keep safe. They ought to teach him how to use a sword, that's what ought to happen.
Jamie, the first time he thinks of himself as a pirate, accidental, a proper slip of the mind, except he can't stop grinning for the rest of the day.
Jamie, murmuring prayers of habit to Sint Micha each night until one, when he and Felipe, brothers, fall asleep with stolen treats to share between them, cozy in their hiding spot.
Jamie, the storm howling, desperately gripping his sword as the ship lurches. Captain Paz watches the match between her sons, pride in her eyes as they spar.
Jamie, hair grown long, looks at himself in the mirror. For the first time, it's his eyes that stare back at him, and not his mother's.
Jamie, blood of the first man he's ever killed dripping from his sword. His breath is shaky, but he's.. proud. Elena Maria claps her hand on his shoulder, and he's proud.
Jamie, grinning at Felipe's laughter as he twirls in his outfit. He'd never realized he could be so comfortable. He'd never realized he could be so free. He'd never realized he was so free.
Jamie, strolling a captain's quarters, idle, as he keeps an eye on the captives there. His eye catches on an instrument, a fiddle, one of them informs him, voice wavering. "A beautiful instrument. You don't mind, do you?" If they did or not, it never mattered.
Jamie, chin held high, cutlass at his side, stalks across the gangplank, and kneels before the merchant captain. "Easy, now," he says, voice calm, calming. "We'd much prefer to do no harm." Because, of course, if they killed all the sailor's they met, who would be left to steal from? "And I have a feeling you'd prefer to escape with your life, than without it?"
Jamie, slowly learning to play, slowly picking up more options for sounds, slowly finding he can make a bit extra coin with music in his hands, slowly finding he can hear a bit more, as a simple bard, playing his simple music.
Jamie, sheepish and feeling so oddly about that, as a barmaid pulls him to her bedroom. Felipe's told him about his own experiences, but something doesn't seem to add up. It feels.. nice, of course. But it's not how he imagined. He forgot her face the next day, as he walked back to the ship, a new tune working it's way from the back of his mind.
Jamie, darting and taunting and barking laughter. Subtle isn't exactly his specialty. Leave that to Felipe. He has fun.
Jamie, laughing at Felipe's promise to make him his first mate, when he has his own ship. "Who, me? Your bard?" "My diplomat. My friend. My brother."
Jaime, pressing kisses to the boy's neck, grinding against him. He wants this. He wants this. He wants it to feel like how he's told it ought to. But it eases the desperation, for a bit, at least. Neither of them will remember the other, by morning.
Jamie, playing once in a tavern, adoring the applause, but despising the attention. The stage? That he can do. The crowd? Not so much.
Jamie, heartsick, but unable to say why, as the ship leaves port. Only the moon's pulled at him like this, before. What's wrong with him?
Jamie, unable to look Felipe in the eye. "You'll always have a place here. Or on my ship. I'll have one eventually, you know."
Jamie, setting foot on land without intent to return to the sea. Heart torn. A faint, forgotten prayer to Sint Micha on his tongue. What is he even searching for? Why? "I'll miss you." "I'll miss you, too." "I'll be back, eventually." "I know."
Relationships
Inventory
Violin
[ instrument ]His most beloved instrument, his most often played, Jamie knows his violin like he knows his heart, or his ship.
Ocarina
[ instrument ]Small, perfect to fit in his hand, or to keep under the table, perfect for fiddling with when his mind is too busy or too quiet. Bright blue, shell-shaped, and a lovely sound.
Design Notes
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Additional Tidbits
- Common Attributes & Symbols:
- Oceans, storms, full moons, night skies. Blue, gold, and green. Pirate's coat, cutlass. Wolfsbane and yellow yarrow.
- Common Activities & Hobbies:
- Sailing, playing his violin or ocarina, enjoying the evening, bugging his companions. He likes to keep his hands busy, most often fiddling with his ocarina or tying and untying knots in a thin length of rope. Maybe learning how to embroider.
