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Eliott

I'm sure I can dig something up.

0 · 116 views · located in Wing City Town Square

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by CrashQueen

Description

Eliott is not a particularly intimidating man, and straddles the line between cute and ugly. Small and frail-looking, the owner of The Magpie's Nest (an antiques shop located in Hipsterville) looks like even a punch thrown by a child would knock him out. He has hair that is both black and the palest blonde due to vitiligo (or so he claims), even though everybody asks if he dyes it.

He is typically seen wearing sunglasses and jackets with hoods to keep the sun off of his skin, which leads everybody to believe he is a vampire, which is simply not true and they should mind their own damn business. However, his nails are suspiciously black and canines suspiciously sharp. He possesses a keen sense of smell.

If you were to remove his clothes, he'd be pink-skinned with spots that look like a skin disease clustering his stomach and limbs. He has a similar spot around his right eye and on his face, which may be why he wears the shades to hide this. He also has the same silky hair on his head growing pointlessly around his wrists and down the backs of his calves, but he makes a valiant effort to shave this off.

Personality

Eliott is friendly, albeit he can get a little neurotic around strangers. He's fiercely loyal.

He also likes to be outside and explore new things and dig up trash, which is why he is an antique collector.

He disappears on full moons, though.

History

Eliott can't remember if he had always been like this or if it's a new occurrence, He can't seem to find the offending bitemark, much less how he got bitten in the first place.

Image

Woof.

So begins...

Eliott's Story

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Eliott perked his head from over the counter on the right wall, removing some glasses he'd been using to magnify small parts of whatever he was tinkering with below there. His smile was infectious, as if he were simply delighted that somebody had walked into his shop. "Ah! Welcome to the Magpie's Nest! Feel free to look around, and touch whatever. Just be careful, you break it, you bought it- that's my policy."

He spoke in an excitable way, his voice all yips and yaps, practically. He was an old one, frail looking, with his strange two-toned hair and his spotty face. He combed back some of which fell over doe-brown eyes and studied October from his spot behind the counter. "Or are you looking for something in particular?"

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"I've got...a pocket watch that's stopped on the time its owner was killed. I've seen him a few times. He's very fond of it. He's a harmless ol' dodger though, so even if you owned the watch, he wouldn't try to KILL you. He might talk your ear off though..." Eliott continued, stepping out from behind the counter with a bow. He was a lot shorter than he originally looked, and one could theorize he must be standing on a stepstool behind that counter.

He led her through the store, around mazes of junk and curio, organized neatly, but it was still garbage as far as others were concerned. "That-er that would be something you're interested in, right? Haunted accessories?"

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"Oh, well I live upstairs actually," he replied, turning around to look at her again. "But originally I came from- well I've forgotten now. This city will do that to you- hn." He removed a ring loaded with keys to unlock a display case that contained the watch, It was a handsome thing, silver and engraved with a war eagle, some 80 years old or so. He handed it over to October after slipping a silver chain through it.
"Stopped permanently at two o' nine. I've tried to make it run but it's- ah- magically jammed, and debunking spells isn't where my talents lie."

Slowly, he realized she was staring at him, and he blinked owlishly. "Er- oh. Do- does my appearance bother you? I can put my hood up..." His hands reached for said hood so he might conceal his face better. He was used to people staring- and it made him embarrassed that they had to suffer through his ugly.

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He smiled again and left the hood down. "You're too- you're too kind miss." Eliott pawed at the watch as it dangled from the chain, catching what light made it to the back of the store and flashing it back brilliantly. His answer was stupid in its simplicity. "Well- hardly anybody wants to buy a broken watch. I still have to turn a profit with my stock. Guy's gotta eat- and I'll be damned if I resort to hunting like the others."

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"Hunting- oh. Right. I'm a lycanthrope. But pretty harmless unless you're like- a squirrel." He chuckled, watching her handle the timepiece. "Hmmm, how's $30 sound? The owner's named Orvis...he'll pop up at exactly 2 o' nine. AM, mind you. He might jostle you awake but he's fine company."

The setting changes from hipsterville to Gambit's Bar

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Eliott didn't like this bar much, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Something had messed up his monthly cycle, some ambient magic or one of the various cursed items in his shop. But certain THINGS would not go away. He entered with his hood up and grabbed a menu, skipping the potables and poisons to get to the curative section. Wolftamer, wolftamer...where was a quick fix potion when you wanted one.
He was quite absorbed in this task, and very easy to sneak up on.

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Eliott didn't like this bar much, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Something had messed up his monthly cycle, some ambient magic or one of the various cursed items in his shop. But certain THINGS would not go away. He entered with his hood up and grabbed a menu, skipping the potables and poisons to get to the curative section. Wolftamer, wolftamer...where was a quick fix potion when you wanted one.
He was quite absorbed in this task, and very easy to sneak up on.

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Eliott spazzed on the stool. “What the- oh.. Oh sorry! You uh...frightened me!”
He offered a friendly smile before turning his eyes back on the menu. “Yes. Wolftamer. It's supposed to keep your, uh...primal features in check, right?” He could smell something off about her, but he wasn't about to delve into it. “A few things didn't go away last night when I turned...uh. Oh. I guess it doesn't hurt to say it, but I'm a were...um...wolf.”
Not a wolf. Not a wolf at all.

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He nodded. “I don't drink much. Really I wouldn't be on this side of town if I didn't need the potion as urgently as I do. I have um...business to attend to and I very well can't show up with these.” He pulled down his hood to reveal pointed, perky dog-ears, pink and covered in the same silky hair that topped his head, blending in almost too perfectly. “And the tail I've got tucked down a pant-leg.”

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“You mean it...doesn't come pre-made?” Now he was worried, and he shifted in his barstool. “N-not that I don't trust your skills or anything like that. I'm just...surprised there's nothing made in advance? What if somebody is like dying and can't wait to take something to heal them?”
He rested his elbows on the bar, his head in his hands.

The setting changes from gambits-bar to Forest Border

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He wasn't fond of the taste of blood, but it was better than accidentally harming one of his customers. The oversized hairless dog that made up his transformation pawed at the opened belly of the raccoon he'd caught, dipping his muzzle into its guts and snarfing up what he could. The smell of a fresh kill lingered on the breeze, and he kept his guard up, knowing full well that others like him, or other scavengers, were on the prowl.

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A sub-were, technically. Nowhere near as noble as a wolf. At least sub-weres maintained some dignity, even if they were overglorified domesticated dogs, but Eliott had gotten the short end of the stick, and happened to have been transformed into one of the most unattractive, non-ferocious breeds. Even so, he lifted his bloodied muzzle to the full were and bared his teeth in a snarl.
“You- you can't have any of this. It's- it's mine!”

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“I mean it! I'll bite your throat!” he continued, biting off the raccoon's tail and downing it in a single fuzzy, itchy gulp. Eugh. Once determining that Varius WASN'T going to steal his kill, he perked his ears up again and wagged his silky-haired tail submissively.
While he wasn't exactly toy-dog sized, he was still pretty small for a werewolf. Practically a puppy.
“If not to steal, what do you want?” he asked, tilting his head. And then he added a meek, 'don't hurt me.'

Wolves seemed to enjoy picking on the sub-weres, and Eliott bore the brunt of it.

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Either reaction would have been suitable. Eliott puffed himself up to look somewhat more elegant, his white hair reflecting the light of the moon. “I'm a were just like you. Just not a wolf. I couldn't be that lucky.” He continued to wag his tail as he studied the full-were, fighting the canine urge to wander up and stick his nose in certain unwanted places.

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Eliott was still pretty new to the werewolf business, but he kept it reeled in. “No, no, I'm good. I can- here hang on.” With the sound of cracking bones, he managed a half-transformation back into a human, or at least, enough to turn his forepaws into something a lot easier to shake with, though his 'hand' was still dwarfed by Varius'. “I'm Eliott. Sorry. I'm...kind of new to this whole thing. It's only my...sixth moon?”

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“I don't...but there's always the urge to, y'know? I'm in better control than I thought I was going to be, actually.” He seemed proud of himself. He wasn't really dangerous, but even small dogs could do some damage if you let them. “But then again, there's a big jump in ferocity from lap dog to wolf or some other wild animal.” He nodded to the raccoon carcass. “I just kill small animals to get it all out of my system as soon as I turn, then iIm good for the rest of the cycle.”

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“Join a pack?” He seemed a little flabbergasted, embarrassed even. “But- um...wouldn't your other packmates mock you for taking in a sub? And even more so, won't they just- er- kill me?”

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Eliott couldn't shake that there were some dom-sub vibes going on here, but he consented with a half-grin. “Fine. You can be my alpha. As long as I don't have to meet anybody else in the pack. I'm not...sure they'll be half as...understanding as you are.”

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"Fair 'nuff." Eliott replied. Here came the silence. He was a very socially awkward person, and even moreso as a were. "Er- well I should get back to eating this raccoon and you um- should keep looking for rogue weres. I'll be fine." He scratched behind an ear nervously with his freakish pawhand.

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“You can catch me at my job,” he nodded. “I work in the Magpie's Nest antique shop in the arts district. It's in the phone book and if you stop by I'll give you a card or free stock or something. Having somebody around would be good. I only um- fully transform on the full moon but for some reason I wake up with ears or a tail or a muzzle just on a whim and I...have no idea why.”

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“I get a lot of weird customers,” he shrugged. “As long as you don't break anything or er- eat any of my other patrons, I'm fine with it.” And yes, it was in hipsterville. Eliott was...one of those junk-collecting hipster wannabes.

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“Okay, okay, fine!” He yelped at the growl, taking a few steps back. “I will-um- see you then?” Pup would be the least of the derogatory things he had to put up with since being bitten. Sure, he wasn't the most confident of creatures, but namecalling wouldn't send him to tears or break his spirit. He'd been a chump long before he became a were. Sad to say he was used to it.

The setting changes from forest-border to Gambit's Bar

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December was the worst month for Eliott. The moon seemed to be as its most influential in the winter months, and he had absolutely no idea why. He'd had to close up shop early [eventually he supposed he'd have to HIRE somebody to run it for him during the holidays] and he was in a pretty grouchy mood when he stormed into the bar, seemingly stuck in his beast form.
His paws thundered on the hard floor as he glared at anybody who dared to look down on him. And look down they had to, because while he exuded the same sort of canine, dominating aura of any werewolf-...he was only about the size of a large housecat, and stark naked but for the tufts of silky hair on his head, feet, and tail.
He snorted and leapt nimbly up onto the barstool. At least Gambits would serve him here.
"Irish coffee and make it snappy," he commanded, his ears pinned back in agitation with EVERYTHING around him.

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"...Excuse you?" Eliott corrected, turning his head to stare Bug down, making note of her black eye and softening slightly, because as much as he wanted to be a hard ass, it just wasn't going to happen in this adorable little body. "I am a grown man- not a- not a- PUPPY." He lost his edge then and his stammer crept in. It suited Eliott, given when he was human, he was just as anxious and high-strung as any other little dog.

His coffee was set before him and he tried to blow on it the best he could with his muzzle before gingerly lapping it up, his grace more fitting to a cat than a dog, but that was just how Chinese Cresteds roll. Bug additionally brought in a draft of cold air with her and Eliott shivered, his small size making the quivering all the more apparent.
"Not cute." He stated matter of factly.

Still, whorecicle or not, Bug's lap looked so inviting.
"What happened to your hand there?" He asked as he pushed his coffee down the bar with his nose to move closer.

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"Well...I'm usually a man. December isn't my best month. C-c-cursed and all that," Eliott explained with another shiver before drinking more of his Irish coffee. He closed his eyes and wiggled a back paw at Bug's fingers to his ears. That was the upside. No other were-thing got that kind of perk, unless the human was suicidal or something.
Truth was, while he was given a most unfortunate beast form, the brain that came with it still thought Bug looked mighty tasty. But Eliott knew well how absurd it sounded and he mentally beat the beast-brain away with a stick. Shoo, shoo!

He perked his ears in her direction as she spoke up. "Cold? ...Eh, a little."
A lot.
But he'd be DAMNED if he wore one of those SWEATERS. He still had some pride.
"And what's said 'lady's name, en? I-I-I'm Eliott."