Aver

A guy trying to get back to the Shadow Plane (maybe). pathfinder character!

Personality Traits: Aver tends to take time and observe, when he can. He wants to observe behavior and take note, and when he is finished, he will go ahead and do what he does (and what he is good at). There is a curiosity that he’s felt in moments throughout his life, but it was always buried deep inside of him. It’s been slowly coming to the surface as he stays on the material plane. He is curious about the world he’s in, and he does want to have some different experiences before he returns to his home. There is a deep part of him that feels torn between his want to return to something less complicated and whatever it is he’s found out here. He manages to just scrape past most encounters. 

Ideals: Aver has found quickly in the material plane that there is more to medical care than just stitching himself together. He might not be technically familiar with actual studies of medicine, but he is aware enough to know that each life is precious, and–like his experiences with creatures–each part of them can be useful. He is a bit suspicious of magical healing; nothing has healed him better than himself. He wants to actually live life, but he doesn’t quite realize it. 

Bonds: Aver has been using the same set of tools for a long time. And while they may not be used often anymore, he keeps them clean. In the material plane, the first creature that Aver encountered understandably wanted to kill him. But by some miracle they allied, and suddenly Aver had a companion. He decided that some company can be okay.

Flaws: Aver has spent the majority of his life alone, and he would prefer it to stay that way (he might be lying to himself). So his social skills are practically nonexistent. If Aver were to notice the nuances of human interaction, he wouldn’t be able to wrap his head around them. He understands why creatures do as they do, just not this type. He acts as he does, and that’s the end of it. He thinks people’s bodies are a marvel, and his appreciation for learning about it can be kind of… weird. 

Aver is unsure whether he would be able to recall specific moments in his lifetime. Up until recently, it had all been a blur of black and white. At some point he had settled into some sort of tense, monotonous cycle, and only a few notable moments stuck out. 

His father (he rarely thought about him nowadays) had been mostly absent as Aver grew up. When his mother passed with some sort of fever, his father fell into a bad state–still able to move around and talk, but still lost. So he didn’t remember the first time he killed an animal, but he remembered the first time he traded his small game for an amateur bow. It had felt rough, and slightly heavier than he had thought it would be, and he remembered turning it over and over again in his hands. It took him a bit to get the hang of, but ultimately his hands had become calloused, and the wood had smoothed out. When his father had passed much later, he wasn’t sure what to do except continue on. He’d been going out farther lately, vaguely wondering if the shadows would give way to anything else. And even farther, later, in the strange cities with others, it was all still shadow. He didn’t stick around the biggest one for long, though he might miss observing the strange visitors he noticed there. Everything in the shadow plane seemed to fade into the background (even them to some degree, the plane itself seemingly sucking their strange essense away and leaving them grayed out). this part different based on the glare. thinks

The first time he’d almost died–years later–after deciding to just… sit for a while. He supposed he had spaced out for a second, because he was suddenly on his back. The creature had scratched too close for comfort into his chest, and he lay staring up at the dark, empty sky. He’d managed to get the bastard, though, and he was bleeding with it. He stared ahead, taking a moment to close his eyes and breathe in. And he leaned up onto his side to clean and stitch himself up. He only slightly felt the prickle on his neck and the need to watch everything closer after that (much, much closer). 

The first time he saw a pure color. Although he wasn’t completely sure what they were until later.  Aver was used to running on empty. But sometimes he took it a little too far, and he realized when, in a somewhat desperate and slightly clumsy encounter, that this was one of those times. But he saw something different, swirling and pulsing (and something like those strangers he still remembered), and he had to act. He was so tired, and he didn’t really understand that his base instinct was curiosity. So he didn’t observe, and he leapt through a portal. He didn’t have time to really think about it before he’d landed on his back with the wind knocked out of him. His eyes were struggling to make out anything with his head spinning. At least it was quiet, the thing panting and chasing him nowhere to be heard. He felt grass under his hands, but it felt more… solid. 

He barely reacted in time to something snapping at him. Whatever it was wasn’t what was chasing him, and it took its time to hiss and show its height, so Aver was put at ease. It was defensive. He stayed still, trying to catch his breath, trying to get his eyes to focus. At some point the creature realized Aver wasn’t interested in hurting it, and it stayed to observe. They had that in common. 

When his head was no longer spinning, Aver opened his eyes to darkness. But it wasn’t his darkness, what he had spent his whole life blanketed and almost suffocated in. There were little pinpricks of light covering the sky. He stared up. The creature crept closer, and Aver let it. It was digging through one of his pouches for some jerky. He knew it wasn’t, but it felt familiar with its black and white coat. He stayed and stared up until something began to change on the horizon. The tiny lights stayed, but as time went on, Aver realized that the sky was more different than he first thought. Something was creeping up into the darkness of the sky. It was something he recognized only slightly, and it reminded him of his eyes. The sky kept changing, and Aver didn’t know how to describe the feeling in his chest. Finally, something bright came over the horizon, and Aver was exhausted.   

After some time, he would awake again to darkness. The creature was still watching him, though he was closer. Aver would slowly put his hand out, and it would let him. They stayed like that for a while. He knew he could make it on his own, staying in the wilderness. But he decided to do something he was good at, and he kept moving. The little creature followed, perhaps hoping for some more food. Aver was okay with this.

It was the same for a bit, traveling and hunting by night (there were similar animals to the shadow plane, although they had a fleshiness Aver had never experienced). He would stay awake until the sky changed and the night disappeared, and then he would fall asleep until it returned. He and his friend stayed mostly along the edges, and hid when he heard a loud scuffle from somewhere around the corner. They stayed still, and once he decided to move again, something stumbled into him. Aver felt warm and wet, and he looked down to something dark seeping into his clothes, and a man begging him to take him down those stairs. Startled, he dragged him down, and the man banged weakly on the door, his hoarse voice desperate. After a moment he was ushered into the dim light, the man was taken from him, and he was once again being threatened. The injured man barked to calm down, and this new man with horns glared at Aver before getting into a whisper-shout match. After a bang on a table and a few loud swears, the horned man asked through a pained and sarcastic smile if he happened to be a doctor.

He’d never used his shoddy tools on anyone other than himself, but as he opened this man to close him up again, he found the blood against the metal especially striking. 

His new living arrangement was strange. After interrogating him, they had a discussion: in exchange for food and shelter, Aver would stay and become a sort of doctor for them. Their barber doctor had for unknown reasons recently kicked the bucket (ha), and the air had been tense lately. Aver, still thinking of his tools going through flesh other than his own, agreed.

He learned to coexist with the horned man (he learned his name was Zavier), who was a rough guide to this world. But they couldn’t deny they meshed well together, in a way that was casual but ultimately stagnant.

The time between finding out about a ship leaving and stepping foot on said ship felt short. His breath caught a little at the idea of going home. The Cursed Continent was a ways away, but they were actually close to the port. He and his badger friend were ushered away along with his tools (new ones he had gotten, along with his reliable set) and the rest of his possessions, always able to fit on his person. Aver was only slightly aware of Zavier’s slight panic, which he knew well in animals. The goodbyes were hurried, and Aver sat and observed. 

after falling in a portal to the material plane, aver is just trying to survive and get back home. got caught up with a member of a crime syndicate who realized he could be an okay doctor. 

traveling to the cursed continent to find a portal back to the shadow plane

curious, quiet, observant, lowkey a freak. dont get close to him he is literally a back alley doctor (pleeease talk to him hes so normal i promise hes so normal and well adjusted i promise). has stolen a body will do it again. sometimes he acts like a repressed middle aged man (he is a repressed middle aged man). has a badger :]

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