#juno goldspire

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We all need some good father/daughter nerd bonding in these trying times 💙 (the trying times being The Plot)

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Batch two done! The cart took way longer than it had any right to.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

The Emperor: Authority, structure, control || tyranny, rigidity, coldness

The Hierophant: Tradition, conformity, morality, ethics || rebellion, subversiveness, new approaches

The Lovers: Partnerships, duality, union || loss of balance, disharmony

The Chariot: Direction, willpower || lack of control, aggression

[taglist under cut]

Art Taglist: @metanoiamorii @oceancold @endlesshourglass @littlehenrikehd @chayscribbles @kick-kennedy @stardustspiral @thethistlegirl @piyawrites @t-lane-writes @c-h-a-n-d-ra @little-boats-on-a-lake @hazard-writes @alicewestwater @ashen-crest @ettawritesnstudies @egg-shark

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Cliche wholesome hours let’s go

Art taglist: @metanoiamorii @oceancold @endlesshourglass @littlehenrikehd @chayscribbles @kick-kennedy @stardustspiral @thethistlegirl @piyawrites @t-lane-writes @c-h-a-n-d-ra @little-boats-on-a-lake @hazard-writes

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Juno discovers the downside of learning basic human decency along with a bit of Unfortunate Context

Art tag: @metanoiamorii @oceancold @endlesshourglass @littlehenrikehd @chayscribbles @kick-kennedy @stardustspiral @thethistlegirl @piyawrites @t-lane-writes @c-h-a-n-d-ra @little-boats-on-a-lake @hazard-writes

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(Now I changed stuff up I had to work out a new Juno intro whoops. Here’s hoping this one can stay canon oh boy. For context, they’re following music coming from a weird tower-house thing and Sabina is reluctantly going to check if the resident Spirit has kidnapped someone again)

With each floor they climbed, the shapes forming the rooms got less and less consistent, more abstract and folded. The clutter continued throughout, though the images on the torn canvases and twists of clay coated wire became stranger, less grounded in any reality Ollie could recognize. One canvas had what was almost a face, it’s left side torn away, single remaining eye staring straight at him with a depth that didn’t seem quite natural. He shivered, picking up his pace.

At last, they reached a large wooden door, once red paint peeling away, the frame cracked and warped. From the tiny circular window in the cubby beside them, Ollie could see the treetops stretching out below, the lean of the tower giving a stomach twisting angle down.

Sabina stepped up to the door, gripping the ornate brass handle. Without warning, she froze, the smallest frown beginning on her face.

It only took a moment for Ollie to realize why.

“...It’s stopped,” he whispered.

Sabina glanced back, an uncharacteristic uneasiness in her eyes. She pushed down on the latch, all holding their breath.

“Dear gods have you no bloody taste?”

The three jumped as the voice rang out from within. Loud, clear, and deeply irritated. Without another seconds hesitation, Sabina shoved the door open and stormed into the room beyond.

“What the fuck are you doing now?” she demanded.

Two figures looked back at her. One, distinctly inhuman, hunched over an easel, it’s countless eyes fixed on the intruders from their places up and down it's several arms. A long hand was frozen above the canvas, charcoal gripped between bony fingers.

Beside it was a young man, dressed in the distinct reds and golds of the South, rich brown skin to match. His dark hair was pulled back in a small ponytail, several strands floating loose around his incredulous face. In his hands was a lute, polished and intricate, clearly handled with the care of a newborn child. He did not seem terribly pleased at the interruption.

“Well, excuse me,” he said, in the same overly posh voice as they’d heard before. “I’m in the middle of a highly necessary explanation of the arts at the moment and I’d appreciate if I wasn’t so rudely interrupted!”

Sabina stood, completely baffled. This, it seemed, was rather outside her wheelhouse.

“...What?” was all she could think to say.

“I do not need an ‘explanation’!” the Spirit said, voice cracked and raspy as it glared the man down with every single eye. “I am a master! I am creation itself, and I do not need your horrendous squawking while I am making masterpieces!”

The man scoffed. “Oh don’t kid yourself. No master of the arts would have so many discarded pieces, it’s a bloody hazard.”

“I am on the quest for perfection, you insolent worm! Something you’ve clearly never pursued with your wretched crooning!”

“Okay-“ Sabina snapped back into action, stepping forwards and holding up both hands. “-both of you need to shut up.”

The two whipped around, glares now firmly fixed on her. She didn’t flinch.

“Look, Creation,” she said. “Just- let the guy go, and this can be done with.”

“Let him go?” Creation balked. “He will not leave! I have been begging for nothing but peace since I was cursed with this fool's presence!”

Sabina frowned. “What?” She looked to the man, who raised an eyebrow in what was almost a challenge. “He’s not keeping you here?”

“Of course not!” the man said. “I’m simply doing what’s right as a performer- educating those who don’t see the true value of the art!”

“Oh fuckin’ hell,” Sabina muttered.

The man turned to Ollie, who instinctively took a small step back. “You get it, right? Somebody must get it here besides me!”

“I don’t think I want to be a part of this,” Ollie said quickly, as the man’s gaze bore into him. The man threw up his hands in frustration.

“Great!” he said. “I’m working with two uncultured idiots and a coward! Don’t tell me it’s the child who can back me up!”

There was a pause.

The man leaned towards Twig a little. “That’s when you start backing me up,” he said out of the corner of his mouth. Twig took him in.

“You seem kind of annoying,” she said.

The man’s mouth fell open, and he gave the most mortally offended gasp Ollie had ever heard. “Wha- how dare you-“

Sabina stepped forward and grabbed the man’s arm, yanking him to his feet. “Time to go.”

The man tried to pull his arm away, but Sabina’s grip didn’t slip one bit as she stared him down. “Unhand me!” he said.

“No. We’re leaving.”

“Though-“ Creation cut in. “May you perhaps gift me a better muse, Weaver Child, so that I may take back the lost creativity sucked by this talentless sack?”

“Absolutely not,” Sabina said before the man could get in a retort.

“What do you mean by ‘muse’?” Ollie asked, before he could gather the good sense to stop himself.

“Ollie, don’t-“ Sabina started, but Creation had already broken into a wide grin, his mouth stretching off his face as his eyes all widened. He curved over the easel in front of him, long torso twisting and contorting like the tail of a curious cat. He placed a few of his hands down to brace as he stretched out towards Ollie, all the while still remaining in his seat.

“A muse, my dear thing,” he said, voice shuddering with barely contained excitement, “is one as versed as I in the way of creation, who understands the deepest intricacies of creating something from nothing, a power like that of which a god.”

“Oh,” Ollie said, immediately regretting several life decisions. “That’s fun.”

“Leave him be,” Sabina said. “We’re getting the bard out of your hair, isn’t that enough?”

Creation ignored her, only leaning ever closer to Ollie, now backed up against the wall. Twig didn’t seem at all bothered, looking up at Creation with a relaxed curiosity. Ollie did not share her feelings on the situation.

“What about you, strange boy?” Creation asked, lifting up it's front arms to give yet more eyes a better look at their subject. “The bard is a self important fool, the Weaver Child disinterested in the ways of the arts, and the young Spirit not yet ready for such a task. But you, perhaps? Tell me, do you create? Have you crafted with your own hands, understood the endless toil and trails of creation?”

“Uh-“ Ollie looked to Sabina. She gave him the smallest shake of her head. “...No,” he said, in what was probably the least convincing tone he could have possibly come out with.

“Hmm,” said Creation. “Disappointing.”

“Mm. Yeah. So sorry,” Ollie said, beginning to inch his way along the wall away from Creation’s much too close face. Twig stifled a giggle. “Really such a shame, but I guess we can just- get going-“

“Actually,” Creation said. “I don’t think you can.”

Taglist: @oceancold @zielenbloesem @henrike-does-writing-sometimes @dramaticvoiceover @andiwriteunderthemoon @feathered-inkling @piyawrites @halfbloodlycan @kalis-scribbles @swirley-whirley @chayscribbles @ladywithalamp @metanoiamorii @alicewestwater @nsanleyawkward @little-boats-on-a-lake

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Happy New Year have the definitely canon scene of Juno meeting the Cruelty Spirit

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When Ollie awoke, he wasn’t sure how old he was.

He’d been at home, right? On the streets of his childhood town. Except no, no he hadn’t. There’d been a forest, not like the one there. There had been someone. Who was it? The more he pushed his mind towards it, the more the dread in his gut grew.

Who was it?

“Hey Arin, your rescue mutt’s awake.”

He didn’t know that voice. It was disinterested, almost annoyed, with the hints of an accent around the edges, like it was trying to sound posher than it was. The strike of unfamiliarity jolted him fully awake, and he tried to shove himself upright, but was stopped by a sharp stab of pain in his side. He winced, falling back down heavily, having only caught a glimpse of wherever he was before his eyes had squeezed back shut from the pain. His head was pounding.

“Hey now, hey!” another voice said, brighter, but speaking softly to try to comfort him. “It’s okay, you’re safe. You’ve got a bit of an injury, please be careful.”

At last, Ollie managed to get his eyes open, greeted by a mess of blur as they adjusted to the new light and pushed away the fog in his head. Leaning over him, knelt next to the makeshift bed in which he had been placed, was a young man. His golden brown skin was peppered with freckles, dark curly hair floating around his head as he looked down. He had a heavy green coat wrapped around him, and concern painted across his face. He was awfully close, and Ollie instinctively tried to pull back, only succeeding in pushing himself a couple inches away before the pain forced him to stop.

“It’s okay! It’s okay-“ the man repeated, reaching out and placing a hand on Ollie’s shoulder. He must have thought it a comforting gesture, but it sent ice through Ollie’s blood, and inhaled sharply, trying to force away any reaction. The man didn’t seem to notice. “I’m Arin,” he said. “And that’s Juno. We found you out in the woods, are you okay?”

Forcing himself to shake off the paralysis Arin's touch had given him, Ollie turned onto his back, Arin's hand thankfully dropping away, and slowly propped himself up against the wall behind him, completely lacking the energy to hold himself up freely. Without the man blocking his view, he could finally get a good look at where he was.

The house was abandoned. That was abundantly clear. The walls were crumbling, and holes in the roof had let snow build up on parts of the floor. They appeared to be in what once was the living room, the door hanging from it's hinges doing little in ways of guarding from the outside. Then again, it hardly would have mattered, as the windows had shattered long ago, leaving only holes filled with the ghosts of frames.

Leant casually against the opposite wall, another man sat, fiddling with what looked like an intricately decorated lute. His clothes were bright reds and golds, a harsh contrast against the soft greys and blues that seemed to wash across the place they sat in. He too had golden brown skin, dark hair pulled back in a short ponytail, though loose ends still hung around his face. He looked up to Ollie, still completely disinterested.

“Can you talk?” he said.

“I- sorry-“ Ollie stammered out. The man, presumably Juno, rolled his eyes and went back to tuning.

“Oh great, one of these,” he muttered.

“Juno!” Arin scolded. He turned to Ollie, apologetic. “He doesn’t mean it. He’s really quite nice when you get past all the snark!”

“How dare you spread such disgusting slander about me,” Juno said, without looking up. Arin ignored him.

“I think you fell,” he said. “We found you at the bottom of a small cliffside, all on your own. Why aren’t you wearing a coat? Or shoes?”

“I… I don’t…” Ollie tried to think back on the night's events, but all there was was a blur of shapes and sounds and feelings that didn’t quite fit correctly. Fuck his head hurt.

“Did you come here alone?”

“No, I-“ Things began to rush back, all too fast, all too much. “Twig- Twig and Sabina I- I gotta get back-“ He began trying to shimmy himself out of the woolen blankets draped across him, but Arin reached out to stop him quickly. He flinched back away from his hands and this time, thankfully, Arin didn’t touch him.

“You have a head injury,” he said, urgency clear in his voice. “You have to stay put.”

Now he was focusing on it, Ollie could feel the pressure of bandages around his pounding head, just like around his waist.

How’d those get there, hm?

“You didn’t- oh gods-“ So much. There was so much. His head swam and his vision blurred, and he had to close his eyes again, gripping at the base of the wall behind him to try and stay steady. He’d just come out of one of these, this wasn’t the time to slip back in.

“Fuck kid, you good?” Juno’s voice came through the fog, a hint of genuine concern, or at least discomfort, sneaking in.

Taglist: @oceancold @zielenbloesem @henrike-does-writing-sometimes @dramaticvoiceover @andiwriteunderthemoon @feathered-inkling @piyawrites @halfbloodlycan @kalis-scribbles @swirley-whirley @chayscribbles @ladywithalamp

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Major Side Characters - The Book of Broken Strings

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Eir Kvalheim

32 - she/her - the empress - white string

Twig’s mother

Was convinced by Copper to participate in an attempt to create a part-Spirit child, who could then be used to grant magic to humans. Copper also insisted part of the deal was her marrying him. She did, but certainly wasn’t happy about it

Regretted her agreement immediately, upon realizing she didn’t want her daughter murdered, but knew if she just tried to run with her Copper would easily catch her. She instead opted to try and quietly reverse the brainwashing Copper was attempting on Twig. Not only so they could one day escape, but also in case Copper did try and attempt to take her magic, he may not be able to, as there is a slight aspect of consent with how magic tends to work

Very stubborn. Expert at cutting remarks. Like the Scandinavian version of those rich ladies in period dramas being insanely passive aggressive in the cleverest ways

Gone (?)

SONG: The Modern Mary - The Good Life

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Lavender Vikhrova

26 - they/them - agender aroace - the sun - purple string

Who the group stays with throughout book 2

Artist, selling at fairs and occasionally doing commissions

Has a huge newfie dog called Lucy

Often sarcastic and jokey, but can be very kind and caring when they need to be

Like Arin, hasn’t seen some of the more messed up parts of the world themself, but is far less naive about it

One of the newest characters I’ve made, so I don’t have tons for them yet, but I’m certain they’ll grow significantly by the time the series is done

SONG: Take Up Your Spade - Sara Watkins

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Juno Goldspire

19 - she/her* - trans lesbian* - wheel of fortune - gold string

Hops on the caravan in book 1 and decides they’re getting a ride

*At that point, they still think they’re a man. However, by book 3, they’ve worked it out (hence why I use they/them when not in specific scenes, to simplify)

A little shit

Travelling preformer, currently heading to a Summers End festival. Favours the lute though wants to branch out

Originally from a very rich family who did not like them, so they went ‘okay fuck you too I guess’, faked their death, and ran away from home under a new name

Starts off the most entitled asshat you’ll ever meet. They get better. Still a little shit though

I have a great time writing them

Has a lot of self worth issues they hide with a preformative god complex

Maybe part of them believes the god complex. Just a little

SONG: Show Stopping Number - The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals

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Taglist: @oceancold @zielenbloesem @henrike-does-writing-sometimes @dramaticvoiceover @andiwriteunderthemoon @feathered-inkling @piyawrites @halfbloodlycan @kalis-scribbles

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I spent New Year’s Eve drawing these and it was a good choice

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I drew memes instead of writing

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Some dumb memes as I untangle the mess that is book 1

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happy storyteller saturday!!! how would your characters react to a heartbreak or a betrayal? -crystallized-ink

Oooh thank you! This caught me off guard because it’s still Saturday here lol but this seems very fun to answer! (edit I just realized this says Saturday I’m a fool. Feel free to bully me) I’m gonna keep myself to just the tbobs crew so this thing isn’t ten miles long because oh boy I have a lot of little fellas running about

Twig doesn’t fully know how to handle emotions yet, being, y’know, seven. So that usually means it comes out in anger as she doesn’t know how to stop all these awful feelings and needs to get them out, as well as just being scared. She’s already been dealing with one heartbreak of realizing she may never see her mother again + the dawning understanding that she may not have been the wonderful goddess Twig made her out to be from lack of other examples, so anything else piled on top of that, especially if with another trusted adult/parental figure, would be a lot

Sabina also gets angry too, but more with herself then whoever caused it, though that’s certainly still part of it. She closes off, tries to distract herself from the Bad Feelings, until it all builds up and she just breaks down. It’s a time and a half an I’m looking forward to writing it

Juno has two ways of reacting depending on the situation: pretend it doesn’t bother her and that she totally doesn’t actually care about it shut up. Or, at least with betrayal, she fuckin goes off. Ripping the source a new one and making sure she has her sweet sweet revenge. For heartbreak though (from loss or something, not from romance which she’d treat more like betrayal), she’s never actually dealt with anything too strong there before so any actual case of it would just shut her down. She just wouldn’t know how to function with it and therefore won’t.

I left Ollie for last because hoo boy is this lad a mess. He’s been experiencing like... micro levels of both for years, which has slowly worn him down and made him think that’s just a normal part of life/relationships. But bigger ones, those earth shattering moments and revelations, tend to just break him. Everything spirals and he just totally loses himself and his grip on the world. It’s not easy to watch and even harder to pull him back from. Fun times!

Anyway I love me some character psych! I had to keep it simple here to not clog up people’s dashes lol but believe me I think about this a lot. Thank you for the ask!

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🎁 Juno

OH BOY perfect let’s see what I have for this wonderful trash girl

send me 🎁and a character and ill describe them using images i already have saved 

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🌾 and 🍂 for juno!! - crystallized-ink

Thank you!

🌾 Describe your OC through the eyes of someone absolutely head-over-heels in love with them

‘A total dickhead. The most obnoxious woman you’ll ever meet, full of herself beyond imagining and everything she says makes you want to punch her. Has an annoyingly hot face that is constantly sporting some sort of shit eating grin or like she knows something you don’t when that’s absolutely not the case. She’s perfect and I wouldn’t change her for the world.’ (-Sabina, three years after the main story)

🍂 Does your OC enjoy hugs? What do they do as a show of affection for: their friends, their family, their significant other(s) or for strangers? Over all what are they like with recieving affection from others?

She likes to pretend she doesn’t to keep up an aloof detached appearance, but in reality is the most touched starved motherfucker you’ll ever meet. Once she gets comfortable with Sabina and Ollie she is 100% down for cuddle piles, as long as it is never mentioned again outside of the household.

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You've been visited by the random OC question fairy! :D ~☆

If your OC had to choose a new name for themself, what would they pick and why? (or, if they already did choose their own name, why did they pick the name they did?)

Oooh this is fun, thank you!! As I really don’t know what new ones anyone would choose, I’ll do the latter with ones who already picked!

Twig was very obvious, with Ollie suggesting it after she excitedly mentioned some twigs looked like her antlers, which she considers a very important part of herself. Later, she takes on Ollie’s surname, Alimose, as she wanted nothing to do with her old parents anymore and wanted to have that tie to her new one!

Juno picked hers before she knew she was a woman, after faking her death and needing a new name to avoid being found, but didn’t quite know why she felt weird about picking masculine ones until a while later. She took ‘Juno’ from a lady she met in a bar who was basically all she wanted to be in life, and ‘Goldspire’ was a name she grabbed on the spot when asked because it sounded posh and it just stuck.