Bringing back an old favorite!
Characters on Couches
If you’re new around the blog, I’ll tell you what it’s all about. It was, I believe, originally a blog-hop type thing, where a group of writer/bloggers got together and “interviewed” their character(s) in a breaking-the-fourth-wall type of event. Well, I decided that I learned far too much about the characters/books to just stop at once. A couple of the CoC’s have been removed, as they contained major spoilers. (Though I’m not so sure they do anymore with the way that set of books continued to evolve in my mind.)
Anyway! Since work on Taking Down the Stars has pretty much stalled for a bit, I decided I’d yank in Violax and see what happens!
I’m just along for the ride!
I’ve done away with the desk this time. It’s too restrictive. The pen clicks against my teeth as as I sit in my chair (some would say throne) and wait for Violax to show up. If she decides to. I can’t predict what she will do or how she will act, and that bothers me. I need to know more about this Other. I snort, shifting in my chair, if I don’t know about my characters, who does?
But then again, that’s why I invited her here. She knows. Of course she knows, it’s her I have the questions about right now. Crack. Dammit. There goes another pen. I’m spitting out the pieces of plastic as the door opens and the woman enters.
Not the best first impression, but at least she didn’t sneak up on me as I was talking to myself.
She’s small. Barely five feet. I’m insanely happy that I’m taller than someone in one of my books. Someone who isn’t a child or an inherently short race. Her skin is a bright, bubble-gum pink and her hair is only a few shades lighter and looks like cotton candy.
One of my eyebrows rises as I note what she’s wearing. It’s a dress. Like an honest-to-God, sundress. And white, knee-high boots. Interesting.
She lounges in the other chair, legs crossed and leaning back in a most unladlylike fashion. She watches me through eyes the color of the morning sky. Her gaze is unwavering, waiting for me to speak first.
I pull another pen from my pocket and ready it above my clipboard and paper. “Why do you look like that?”
Her nose wrinkles and her brow furrows. Not the question she expected. “You know very well we can appear how we choose.”
I nod. “Yes, but why? I would think someone of your… temperament would choose a fiercer guise.”
As I watch, her frame lengthens and broadens. Her skin darkens until it is nearly a blood-red in color. Black wings sprout from her back and a barbed tail flashes through the air behind her. When she speaks, it is vastly different from the light, airy tones of before.
“You mean like this?” Even as the form is fully realized, with black horns and everything, she begins to shrink again, taking on her light, small form. “I am not a Zynth, Creator. I am Ajaix. I appear as I do because it causes everyone to underestimate me. I learned long ago if your true power is known, it will cause you all kinds of trouble.”
It is my turn for a furrowed brow. “Long ago? During the Breaking?”
Her head tilts slightly. “Is that what you’re calling it? Very well, before the Breaking, I had a great deal of power and influence amongst the Others. Even among the Lazit, there were those who respected me and what I stood for.” She hesitates here, her hands fidgeting in her lap. “After the Breaking… When the world Splintered and the Hound was caged I was… discredited.”
My eyebrows raise and I set my pen aside. “How do you mean?”
“[Answer redacted due to spoilers the author is not willing to reveal].”
I whistle softly. “Damn. Didn’t see that one coming.”
She shakes her head with a sad smile. “No one did. Not even I. But what is done is done and I have a chance to atone for past mistakes. Perhaps we can bring the world back to life again.”
Well. I found out something new and I hope you were entertained.