zarie-harrow

[zarie-harrow]

morxtorium·:

“But you might…” Abigail whispered. “I have a horrible track record for chasing people away - or leaving people behind in the case of the Delaney family – but to be be honest, they weren’t the nicest people ever, and all the books said that you shouldn’t avail yourself to others who don’t have your best interests at heart – that was a very hard decision to make, you know - I really thought that they were nice people —” and she was rambling again, but this time, she was able to stop the train of thought before she completely derailed the conversation to less important topics. 

She hadn’t even realized that she let go of the woman’s hand. While normally, she sought out any kind of gentle physical contact, in the moment, she had completely wrapped herself up in the fear that he was going to lose all the books in her shop, and as she focused on that, was able to bring the conversation back around to the book worm. 

“I …” the woman offered her help, and Abigail felt her eyes well up with tears. She felt her emotions ten-fold. She didn’t have the ability to self-regulate well, and since she had two more alcoholic drinks than she did normally, what little self-control fell to the wayside. “Thank you so much,” she warbled, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her ink stained shirt sleeve. “I have money, I can pay you in solid coin or …” she opened her bag again, this time going as fair as to tip the entire contents onto the bar. Pens, brushes, inkwells, two journals, a book and some small pieces of wrapped hard candy clattered to the bar. She sniffed hard and wiped her nose on her sleeve.

Abigail looked at her assorted collection of things. She had a small pouch of pretty rocks she had found on her walks. Another pouch dedicated to the buttons that fell off her clothes (and sometimes off the clothes of others… she was a bit like a magpie. Shiny things attracted her attention.) She had a crumpled pile of monetary bills. A few gold coins. More silver coins – and there she found it. Her checkbook. 

She opened it and looked at the balance. She didn’t spend money so her funds only grew until she was quite comfortable. “How much do you want? All of it?” she asked. “I can give you all of it. I’ll make more.” 

Zarie took a long sip of her drink, letting the whiskey roll over her tongue. It seemed like Abigail had more going against her than just the book worms that were running amuck in her store. Zarie wasn’t able to solve all of Abigails problems in one night, perhaps she could lighten the load a little. Zarie was familiar with the desire to be loved. She was thrown into her own memories when she pondered the other woman's words. The lonely halls of the manor she grew up in, and the harsh punishments of her mother. Zarie shook her head slightly, trying to shake off the dark feelings that were trying to push into her mind. She had pushed these thoughts off for decades, she could push them off for at least one more night. 

The clattering of objects hitting the bars counter drew Zarie's attention back to the conversation at hand. Her eyebrows sky rocked towards her hairline. Abigail was full of surprises, Zarie found herself being caught off guard by every turn in the conversation. It was rare for Zarie to find herself so on the back foot. “Look it's really not necessary” Zarie tried to explain as the women sorted through things.  It was at this moment that Zarie realized just how desperate Abigail was, and just how easy it would be for someone else to take advantage of that. Zarie didn’t want to take anything from her, she made more than enough money from her job and what little of her family money she was able to access. However she was pretty sure Abigail wasn’t going to take no for an answer. 

Zarie reached down and plucked a couple of candies that had rolled across the bar and a singular silver coin from the pile. Zarie flashed a bright smile “This will cover it all. Lucky for you, I have a notorious sweet tooth.”  She popped the candy into her mouth. “I can come over tomorrow, if you think your books will last one more night?” Zarie asked, reaching over to place one hand on Abigails shoulder, trying to extend some form of comfort. “Please dont give people all of your money, thats like really not good”

[zarie-harrow]

morxtorium·:

She turned to the woman and couldn’t help but inhale sharply. Yes, all right - the woman was beautiful, but she was also kind. She had met a few kind people, but tonight was not one of the days where she was surrounded by people who were willing to help. “I’m … Abigail,” she said, taking the woman’s hand and instead of shaking it, she held onto it. 

“I own a bookbinding business. I mean - I run it? I am the only one at the shop. I fix books, rebind them and if people have enough money, I can stylize the books - making illuminated, hand crafted manuscripts. I often work with spell books and grimoires though sometimes an old lady wants me to do that for her recipe books.” She paused to take a breath, the combination of alcohol and trying to explain herself before the other woman got bored and went away was making her light headed. 

She opened her bag and removed her sketchbook, opening it to show a detailed drawing of what she called a “book worm”, a long eyeless creature with front-spindly appendages and sharp teeth. “This is in my shop. About to scale … it’s about a foot long, and it’s been eating through the books. I’ve seen it once, I swear I have. I’m not elaborating or lying. I can keep the most expensive books away, but I can’t protect all of them. I think it was sent to me from Mr. DuBois – he said he would do something if I didn’t pay him for shop protection. And I thought that he’d break my kneecaps, because that’s what happens in the books, but he didn’t. But I can’t get the book worm out. I’ve asked. I set traps. I even bought a cat… but the cat disappeared.” 

Abigail, Zarie let the name roll over in her brain tucking it away to hopefully be called upon later. Zarie nearly missed a solid half of the women's ramblings about her job because she just wouldn’t let go of her hand. Something about making various types of books pretty? The warmth of her hand on hers had pulled Zarie squarely out of the conversation. The Spirit warrior was almost always cold, a common trait shared among her bloodline, and the heat of Abigail's hand highlighted the differences between them.  Zarie reached up with her free hand to pat the hand that was trapping her. “You’re allowed to breathe Darling, I promise I’m not going to disappear at the stroke of midnight” she tried to joke. It was clear Abigail was in some sort of distress, and Zarie was taking it seriously but she also knew that it would be harder to take care of the problem if they were all twisted into knots.

Zarie used the excuse of the woman grabbing her sketchbook to take back her hands. Quickly downing the remnants of her own drink in an attempt to focus herself. “May I?” She asked before leaning over to get a better look at the notebook, not really caring about the answer or how it meant she was partially invading Abigails space. Zarie tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, humming slightly as she inspected the drawing. The amount of detail and care in the drawing was impressive to the Warrior, it was clear enough for Zarie to recognize the creature. She had seen these sorts of “Book Worms” before. Annoying little buggers but really an apprentices job to deal with as they really didn’t pose much of a threat to people until they were incredibly well fed. With a sigh Zarie leaned back, moving back into her own space, staring at the wall as thoughts swirled around in her head.

The name of some apprentices who would be more than  capable of dealing with the problem sat on the tip of her tongue. It would be easy to hand off this woman's problems to someone else and continue about her night of fun. Something about the way Abigail looked at Zarie made her crumble slightly. The idea of adding another several days before her problem would be taken care of, it felt a little bit like a crime in itself. Plus this Mr. DuBois worried Zarie. Damn a pretty face, and Damn Zarie for being stubborn. 

“I can help you with this bookworm if you want?” Zarie offered. First the bookworm and then the asshole. Zarie always loved tearing down a good asshole.

[zarie-harrow]

Zarie had found the best drinks were often served in places her family would never set foot even if it would stop the Boundary. Over the years she had found some favorite bars she rotated through hoping to keep some form of anonymity. The habit made her feel like she could disappear into the city and become no one. Tonight however, was a night of Celebration, Zarie had just returned from a hard hunt, bloody and bruised but alive. Zarie hardly allowed the medic to stitch up her wounds before she was out the door. A good hunt meant her mother would leave her alone for at least a week. Something that wonderful called for a return to one of her favorite haunts, the Red Lion.  It had stiff drinks and the nickname tended to attract women that Zarie could find her way home with for the night.

Zarie had found her way to a cozy booth along the back wall, sipping an old fashioned and letting the warmth of the alcohol spread through her. Watchful eyes slowly drifted over the room  attempting to gauge the mood of the room. For the most part it was a lively sort, blue collar workers getting off from a long shift, singles looking for a good time, everything seemed standard for a weekend night, all except for one woman.  Zarie could tell from the way the bartender was paying attention to her that it was not her first drink and probably wouldn't be her last. Something pulled into the warrior's chest at what little heart she had left. It seemed like that women needed help, and barely anyone seemed to pay her a second glance, not wanting their own moods to be brought down.  Zarie cursed herself as she felt her body moving before her brain. 

The Warrior slipped her way across the room, carrying her drink with her ear perked up attempting to hear what the distressed woman was saying.  Zarie leaned against the bar next to her, keeping her hip with her whip turned away as not to frighten her. Zarie indicated with a wave of two fingers to the bartender that the woman's next round was on her. “Personally I think you're being a little too hard on yourself, dear.” Zarie turned her head to give a small smile to the women “I don’t mean to startle you but it looked like you might be in need of a listening ear. “ She held out her hand “I’m Zarie and I happen to be quite excellent at solving problems if you want to tell me what's going on that is.”?

Location: The Red Lion Bar - 1 year ago For: Zaire Hallow || @zarie-harrow​ Character: Abigail 

She had a bag full of books as evidence, as every single piece of literature she read stated that when going to professionals, you needed to have proof of your claims. She wasn’t sure what further proof she could bring of the existence of a book worm that was making its way through her collections. Her landlord didn’t believe her – but he gave her a half-day to herself a week, so she had the right? the freedom? to find someone who could help her. 

If she couldn’t figure out what was going on in her shop, she was going to have no stock, and people were going to go somewhere else to get their spellbooks rewritten and rebound. No matter her artistry… something destroying the books was not going to inspire confidence. 

Yet, she couldn’t find someone willing to help.

In times of stress, Abigail turned to the books for an answer. The general sentiment was: when you can’t solve your problems, cry into your beer … or alcoholic beverage of your choice. 

It was how she ended up at The Red Lion Bar, her favorite little hole in the wall bar (plus, the locals called it The Pink Pussy which she giggled over once she learned the double-meaning of the name.)

“And now every day, I wake up and I wonder which book the bookworm ate when I was resting,” she bemoaned, as she finished her third white russian. “Yesterday, it ate through the third and sixth “Juniper Nest Magical Mysteries” novels…” she buried her face into her arms. “I don’t even know how I’m supposed to cry into my drink…” she mumbled. “Can’t do anything by the book. There’s always plot twists in real life.” 

[zarie-harrow]

Zarie’s Intro

(shay mitchell, she/her, spirit warrior) to [ZARIE HARROW], the whole world looks like an open page. with a leap of faith, their ability of [MAGNETISM MANIPULATION] grows a little stronger. they’re pledged to the [HOUSE VANITAS] to defend the enchanted lands of cagliostro with their [BLADED CHAIN WHIP]. for [THIRTY-FIVE] years, they have survived a world of magic with both their [CHARM] and [IMPATIENCE]. they work as a [LICENSED SPIRIT WARRIOR], but if they could change their fate, they’d want to [ESCAPE THEIR FAMILY LEGACY AND LIVE A NORMAL LIFE]

Note: Zarie’s Backstory! I’m working more on the little details of her once I can get her blog theme up and running! I appreciate your patience.

TW: Mentions and brief depictions of Child Abuse

Harrow was once a name that carried both reverence and fear. In the original days of the boundary the Harrow Family were known for producing some of the efficient and brutal spirit warriors. The family held their secrets close, and cultivated the Legacy so any warrior from the Harrow would be able to carry that weight. But as the Boundary was pushed back that legacy still hung over the heads of the family members. Zarie’s Mother, Sharris Harrow, was the first child of the Harrow family in generations who did not develop a gift, the first that didn’t possess that crackle of power that the Harrows held so dear. 

Zarie was the first born of Sharris Harrow, and Ivern Harrow. The expectations around her birth were high, she would either regain her mothers honor or this branch of the Harrow Family tree would be removed, The Harrows did not tolerate weakness after all. For as long as Zarie could remember she was pushed, trained and tested to see if she possessed the spark of magic her mother did not. Sharris was a cruel woman who thought pain and stress would force Zaries powers to manifest to protect herself. Ivern, well he was not born a Harrow and was often shoved to the side. When he could steal Zarie away from the house, he was kind and did his best to show her what a true childhood would be.

Zarie was still young when the first of her powers manifested. Her mother had laid a blow on her face, causing her lip to bleed. As the blood landed on Sharris hand it quickly burned through her skin, marking Zarie as acid blooded. After this Zarie’s life became about training. How to wield weapons, how to handle herself in court, what benefited a family of their station.  The small stolen moments with her Father faded into history. She rapidly flipped through  magic’s after several years; all tainted by the violence of her childhood. Her magic often manifested into destructive powers that would make her into a great warrior, but Zarie hated it. She often took sanctuary in the towers of her family's home and gazed out the window, wishing for a simple life with things like friends, and a mother that loved her. 

It was as she was entering her teenage years that Zarie’s powers finally settled, and her ability to manipulate magnetic fields manifested itself. Zarie quickly discovered she was able to use her powers to shape the iron in her blood and weaponize the blood around her.  It was at this point she was presented to House Vanitas and inducted into their fold, restoring at least in part, the honor of her family. House Vanitas was Zaries savior. It was the escape from her mother she longed for, the gateway into the greater world and not just a tool in her mothers desperate desire to live up to the Harrow Legacy.   

However expectations had been ingrained deep into Zaries mind from a young age, and being a House Member did come with responsibilities after all.  There was a path she was expected to walk, so Zarie did. She studied for her exams, and trained hard to become a licensed Spirit Warrior. The Harrow Legacy hanging heavy overhead. Her recommendation for her first license even came from her uncle.  Zarie desperately wished to break free of the shackles of her past, but it seemed like an impossible task. How could she forsake her family, and everything her life had been till this point?   

With the Boundary back, Zarie hopes that she can prove herself a Hero. Just maybe, that will be enough for her family and she'll be able to retire into some sort of normalcy.