westfallcorndog: (Default)
After what happened at Halloween, Harrowheart avoided Steve's well-meaning attempts at a connection. During the winter holidays the two traded a plant for a promise of a dinner with family. Now that the celebrations have passed and things are calming down at Naugus' tower, Harrowheart finally sends a message to Steve to make good on his offer.

Steve! Come by Naugs tower. Virgin Mary is waiting for you and so is food (and my family.) Bring Bucky and Ethle and Sara too!!

* * *


At Ixis Naugus' tower signs of the human refugees who live and work there now are everywhere. A fence with a gate has been constructed which keeps strangers from accidentally wandering near. Beyong, a U-shaped table with benched seating has been assembled at the center of the property. Around it is the evidence of the family's farming. Though it's winter now and a thin snow covers the ground it's still clear that much of the land has been tilled, and in some places remnants of fall's harvest remain; the smallest stumps of cornstalks poke up from the ground, a conical bale of straw is piled in the center of what must have been a wheat field. Smaller gardens for fruit and vegetables are fenced off, but only one is currently being used to grow some type of bush with periwinkle berries the size of small tomatoes.

Two little creatures and a tall, blonde man are waiting to greet Steve and his monsters when they arrive. One of them is a kind of hairy piglet, while the other is a sentient coniferous tree no taller than knee height. Both of them have made a mess of the snow around them and are covered in sparkling frost, but they've still got the energy in them to play. More energy than their human friend, who leans against the fence eating a handful of those sunrise-purple berries.

It isn't Harrowheart, though at a glance they might be mistaken for each other. No, this is a living man bundled well against the cold with a bulky brown jacket and fur-lined boots. He wears a hat with ear flaps and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. From the looks of him he's in his late forties, but if it weren't for his lively color and age he could easily pass for Harrowheart. They must be brothers!
westfallcorndog: (Holy Light How Horrifying)
Days have passed since Khan invaded the Nexus, leaving havoc and destruction in his wake and abetting some of the most unsavory figures of the Nexus to cause their own chaos in the hours that the anti-violence field was down. Harrowheart had missed most of the initial efforts to save survivors after the final confrontation – it was difficult enough for him to return to his own world and save himself after the destruction of one of his runeblades. In the time he'd been gone they had to be reforged and his body somewhat mended from the physical and magical wounds he'd sustained. Strips of flesh remained burned away from his face where Khan's plasma had melted anything it touched, and he was still forced to wear an eyepatch until his eye regenerated.

All that mattered was that he was well enough, and with an ominous new runeblade slung over his back, he returned to the Nexus to check on the people he cared about. His family, of course, was safe in Ixis Naugus' impenetrable tower, and he suspected Isidor and Viatorus were just fine – they were magically talented, and if worse came to worst they could have escaped back to Earth... But some couldn't have been so lucky.

His first stop is Steve's apartment. He knows where to find the key and doesn't bother knocking. If he comes in and finds Steve nakedly lounging, at least it means he's safe. What he doesn't expect is to find... Nothing at all. No Steve. He sniffs the air, but isn't sure what he was expecting to find. Of course it smells of him. Is it a distant smell, though? He can't quite tell.

He steps hesitantly inside, and the sound of his plate armor shifting seems so loud in the utter silence. The strange little animals Steve lives with aren't around, either...

"Is anyone home?" he asks, feeling stupid even as he does. It's not like anyone could be hiding out of view in this apartment. "Steve?" Light, what were the little beasts' names?... "Eth...el? Bucky? Sarah?"

It's empty. Totally empty. But that doesn't mean anything, right? Maybe they're out. They're all out helping people who need help. Of course that's the situation. Steve wouldn't sit around if he knew people were in need, and his little creatures were intelligent enough to go with him.

At a loss for what direction to take, Harrowheart does what he's spent the last few months in Acherus perfecting: Standing watch. With the door to the apartment still open he positions himself in the center of the room and stands stark still, his lone, glowing eye unblinking as it watches the doorway. It's only out of habit that he draws his weapon and stands it up, the blade's tip on the floor and his palms resting on the hilt as he waits.
westfallcorndog: (Winter Worgen)
Harrow wanders the roads from the Residential district toward the Parklands with his head low, his worgen nose close to the ground sniffing and snuffling as he goes. He isn't above walking on all fours in his worgen form, at least so long as his hands are bound to his wrists. 

Naugus's tower is such a unique landmark that it would be impossible to miss it even if he didn't have the familiar smell of his new pal Verity to follow. The sight of green crystal on a wizard's castle undeniably points to this being the work of a certain Ixis. Harrow approaches on all fours and doesn't stand like a civilized Mobian should until he's just at the entrance. 

He pounds his fist against the green crystal door and hollers upwards, "Ixiiiiis! It's Harrowheart! I want to ask about your skills!" 

Once he's loudly made himself known he steps back and gazes up towards one of the windows, as if he expects to see that bat-eared beast looking down on him. 
westfallcorndog: (scourge)
At the truly, rudely, ridiculously early hour of 3:30 in the morning Harrowheart sent the following texts:
 
To Steve:
"Steve; Borrowed a phone to let you know we will meet in 11 and 1/2 hours for magic lessons. Eat lunch first but there will be food. See you then! – Harrow"

To Verity:
"Verity; Borrowed a phone to let you know we will meet in 12 hours for magic lessons. Eat lunch first but there will be food. See you then! – Harrow"
A quick follow-up text reads: "Do not text this number back. Tell that Steve person the same thing." 

The texts each accompany a photo of a hand-drawn map with instructions to a place on the far, far outskirts of the Parklands. 
 
*  *  * 

Eleven and a half hours later, Harrowheart is exactly where he said he'd be. The destination is a large area of tall grass surrounded on all sides by woodland that remains leafy despite whatever season it may be on other worlds. The whole area is surrounded by a wooden fence of aged split logs. On one side, nearest the path that leads up to the clearance, is an old picnic bench. Laid out on the table are two thick quilts, two pies under glass covers, a sizable trunk, and one lidded black cauldron sitting above a candle that keeps it warm.

Sitting there at the seat of the bench is Harrowheart. He's dressed much differently today than usual, all done up in a heavy-looking suit of blue armor with a red cape on his back that flows down between his spread legs. His hands are attached to his wrists inside a set of gauntlets. A pair of icy blue axes sit against the bench at awkward angles, their handles attached to the belt of his outfit. He pats his thighs anxiously and often looks to the pathway while he waits for Steve to show up. 
 

Harrowheart

A roleplay blog for Harrowheart, a World of Warcraft original character. Mischievous. Destructive. Most certainly doesn't deserve the powers he's been granted.

All art by me unless otherwise noted. Player and character are over 25. Timezone GMT-6 (US Central.) Certified slowposter.

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