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Charlotte Weaver

Life is a loom, weaving illusion.

0 · 458 views · located in Ashwald

a character in “There is Magic Here”, as played by Mackamp

Description

Charlotte Weaver

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Gender/Role
Female

Occupation
Weaver

age
24

Nov. 11
24

No power
Has the gift to weave magic into her garments

Appearance
whimsical red hair, with a willow shape, hazel eyes and pallid skin.

Sexual Orientation
heterosexual

Personality
Intuitive, mystical/spiritual, mysterious,observant, wanderlust.

Fears/Dreams
Charlotte fears that she is the last living weaver. Charlotte dreams of exploring the world outside of Ashweld.

Hobbies
People watching, reading, weaving, and plotting.

The gift of weaving is 1,000 of years old. It is passed down from mother to daughter, although not every daughter is gifted. At the age of eight a golden weaving tool develops on the inside of her pointer if she indeed gifted.

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So the story begins of Charlotte Weaver........

At the age of 10 Charlotte's parents disappeared after leaving Ashweld, to search for nearly impossible to find,rare and precious enchanting goods. The rest of her formative years she was raised by her nanny, Mrs. Gossamer. An enchantment weaver herself, Mrs. Gossamer was childless and was avid about bestowing her knowledge upon Charlotte before she took her last breath. With great urgency she taught Lottie ( Mrs. Gossamer nickname for Charlotte) how to weave enchantments in garments. Being a gifted weaver and enchanter Charlotte surpasses Mrs. Gossamer knowledge and talent. Shortly after Charlotte's 17th birthday, Mrs. Gossamer passed. Since that time Charlotte carefully observes and gathers information on the people of Ashweld. She spends many late nights deciphering the magical books that appeared when she was 21. With the rest of her time, she weaves enchantments in garments,plays the piano, while plotting how to leave Ashweld forever.

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So begins...

Charlotte Weaver's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Gerald Strike Character Portrait: Charlotte Weaver
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#, as written by Mackamp
Sunbeams danced across the dew creating a shimmering kaleidoscope of colors in the meadow. Charlotte knew these hills like the back of her hand. She had first hiked them, with her mother, then with Mrs. Gossamer, and now alone.

These hills supplied the essential ingredients, such as, mushrooms, moss, bark, flowers and sucklings, for her enchantments.

Throughout the years gathering, Charlotte would run across a trap, meant for wild game. There was something organic about catching your own game and living off the land that appealed to her inner self. Once, over a clearing she glimpsed a tall, dark haired man, moseying through the woods in a such a familiar way it reminded her of herself. She thought she would break the silence; but instead soaked up the vision and committed it to memory.

Joyously soaking up her last bits of sunshine, Charlotte makes her way back to towne. Her family shop “Bronson Lace” was closed today, but she had plenty to be done before tomorrow. Truth be told, she had a perplexing enchantment she wanted to work on.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Diana Greyson Character Portrait: Clay McCoy Character Portrait: Charlotte Weaver
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#, as written by Mackamp
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Sweat beaded up across Charlotte's forehead, making her damp hair bounce with a little more curl. Charlotte took the steps to her loft, two at a time and gently eased the key into the keyhole, unlocking it with crafty precision. She flung her backpack on the chair, wrestled her ponytail holder; which claimed clumps of hair, ran her fingers down the side of her legs jerking off her boots; all while making her way to the shower."Awww, nothing like a tepid shower, to cool me down.What a great way to end a perfect morning!" While Lathering up, super suds slide down her body; softly Char began to hum. Soon that humming became audible and then loud enough it could be heard on the street below. She pounded on the side of the shower like it was a drum and danced around, rocking out in the shower was one of her guilty pleasures. Drying off; she dressed in a soft cream gauze blouse, suspenders,checker shorts, grabbed her purse and headed for the cafe.

Quietly humming "Blink", while strolling down the main street of Ashwald, Charlotte glimpse a girl on the edge of the roof above the antique shop. Without stopping, she shaded her eyes with her phone for a better look, when suddenly she was surprised by the shout from the Sheriff "Hey there Diana! As the Sheriff I must warn you that's dangerous. As a man I must ask you to let me up there because I want to sit on tall things too."
. Startled and now blinded by the sun; she stepped to the side to avoid the Sheriff and literally stepped on his foot, let out a little yelp and dropped her purse spilling the contains all over the sidewalk. Before she could bend over, his big hairy dog was there, licking her and nosing all the items. " OH I AM SO SORRY SHERIFF! Waving her hand at the dog" Shoo dog!! Shoo! A little embarrass she quickly picked up the condom and slide it in her pocket, while gathering her stuff as quickly as she could. With everything in tack; she stood up, looked directly into the Sheriff's eyes, melted a bit, and made an effort to conceal a blush.I hope those aren't your Fred Astaire shoes, and you still have a little dance left in you....again I am really sorry. With a flirtatious wink; Charlotte headed again towards the cafe.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Diana Greyson Character Portrait: Clay McCoy Character Portrait: Matthew Robinett Character Portrait: Reed Gallagher Character Portrait: Damien Greyson Character Portrait: Charlotte Weaver
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#, as written by Mackamp
The door chime rung as Charlotte entered the cafe. It was empty except for Matt and the owner of the bookstore sitting in the corner. "What is his name? David....no......Damon...no NO I dont think so....think Char, I know it starts with a D...."then she noticed the D-man had his hand over Matt's. "Now I would have never guessed that." Charlotte walked to the counter and looked at the menu. "I don't know why I look at this menu I order the same thing every time." She closed the menu and causally waited; strumming her fingers, playing with her phone, and after more than an average amount of waiting she got on her tiptoes and looked back into the kitchen. " Mmmm." She could hear her belly rumble. She looked at Matt who only had eyes for D-man and looked like they were in an intense moment. Who was she to interfere with that? She changed her plan and moved to the prepared food area, grabbed a salad and an organic juice. "Hey Matt, here is a $10" He nodded at her, as she stepped out the door.

Walking back to her place, she heard laughter above her and saw Clay and the redhead eating pizza. "Note to self, don't flirt with a man that is taken.....sigh." As she rounded the corner she saw the Apothecary shop, that reminded her, she needed to go back there later and pick up some goods and of course chat with Red. Sometimes she really missed that guy.

Finally at home, she piled up on the couch, with her salad, while her cat begged at her feet. He was a remarkably beautiful animal, entirely white, with one blue eye and one amber. Hobart, this was the cat’s name, was the only pet Charlotte had ever known. Her mother use to tell the story that when he was three years old that he accidentally ate an enchantment of youth. It was truly an experiment that didn't ever work for humans but did on him. Now Hobart was 21 years old and looked like he was three.

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"Come on Hobart let's go to the "charming room" and work on that enchantment.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Diana Greyson Character Portrait: Clay McCoy Character Portrait: Matthew Robinett Character Portrait: Mimi Jones Character Portrait: Damien Greyson Character Portrait: Charlotte Weaver
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Matt was feeling flustered once again. He sat down with Damien and noticed his friend was looking just as nervous as he. He had never known Damien to be a nervous man. He felt his hands being held by Damien and looked down at their interlaced fingers with a clueless expression. Matt was used to their flirting and teasing but Damien had never reached out and held his hand like this. It was different than how a friend might do it. His cheeks were bright red, he listened quietly as Damien went about asking him on a date to the BBQ in the coming weeks.
"You want to go?" Matt looked at him with wide bright eyes and he was about to speak again when Charlotte entered the cafe and grabbed a few premade foods much to his releif and left money on the counter. He swallowed, suddenly his throat was feeling quite different and he had to cough before he wished Charlotte a good day, when she left he turned his attention back to Damien. "Sure... I'd love to be your date Damien." He grinned then and squeezed Damien's hands. "I think that sounds like a lot of fun."

***

Clay climbed onto the Roof with Bo and the settled on the edge of the building. Clay let his feet dangle and he looked on over at Diana and grinned as she told him that she had ordered pizza. "You are a woman after my heart. Clay was a flirt with everyone. He loved women and that fact would always remain true. Women came in all sorts of interesting shapes and sizes and there was always someone new to interest him. Some might call him fickle, while Clay considered himself a cultured connoisseur. "The shop must be quiet today... He gazed down at the quiet streets below them and felt Bo wander around behind him and lean up against him and settle down for a nap. Grinning his patted his friends rump and leaned back against him as well.

He suddenly felt the small buzz of his phone in his pocket and he pulled it out and saw a message from Mimi.
[To: Clay]
[Hey, I'm heading to the Bottle tonight if you wanna come, we're meeting at 9. Hope to see you there, ya lesbian.]


Grinning he quickly replied:
[To:Sidechick1 AKA Mimi]
[I will be there you goof. I want a dance.]


Closing his phone he realized he did make plans with Nikita but perhaps he could swing seeing both women. He glanced over at Diana and nudged her. "So what's new and exciting beautiful?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Diana Greyson Character Portrait: Clay McCoy Character Portrait: Reed Gallagher Character Portrait: Charlotte Weaver
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#, as written by Mackamp
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The room smelled of rancid water and rosemary. A combination that either you grow to love or can turn your stomach like; a dead animal run over on the road.“ Dammit!!” beating her fist into her work table. “This passage is impossible to decipher!” repeating the Latin over and over again “Ex plumis NUTRIX, Ex plumis NUTRIX, Ex plumis NUTRIX!!!” exhausted she laid her head on the table. Her brain physical hurt from the last few hours of work. Slowly rising, she capped her varies herbs, organs, roots, feathers and flowers. She washed the workbench down with distilled water, infused with chamomile and mint (like Mrs. Gossamer had taught her). “Come on Hobart.” Hobart stretched in his wicker basket and lazily followed Charlotte across the catwalk that connected her to Bronson Lace and her loft.

Grabbing her bag and water she headed for the door.“I hope Red is working. He always makes me feel better." The day proved to be much warmer than she expected. It was amazingly beautiful and with each passing step she began to feel more like herself again. Rounding the corner, she saw Clay and D-man's sister on the roof, off in the distant. She didn't know why it bugged her so much to see them together and the closer she got the more mischievous she felt. When she got right in front of the antique shop, she looked up, and without a second thought she yelled,“Hey Clay, don't stay up there too long, you wouldn't want to get sunburned, would you? It is awful hot; I'm going to cool off at the lake, if you're interested?” With that she continued walking, past the apothecary shop and through the park to the lake. All the time thinking, “I can't believe you just did that."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Aurora Springfield Character Portrait: Tessa Vane Character Portrait: Jannay Arden Polanco Character Portrait: Diana Greyson Character Portrait: Daniel Kim Character Portrait: Clay McCoy
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Strike wasn't expecting the pub to be so lackadaisical in nature. It was still barren and bland. Only Eugene sat in one of the sleek black booths by the window, all by his lonesome as he wistfully gazed out the tinted window, a shotglass twirling in his hands. He had on his usual whimsical stare, the stare that Strike understood as him longing for his eventful past, whatever it had been like. The way he glared out into the unknown like a lost puppy, Strike couldn't help but feel his pain. Or rather, feel like he was in the old man's ruddy shoes himself.

But before Strike could succumb to the brooding emotions Eugene's loneliness produced, he decided to shoot out a few texts to his colleagues. He pulled his phone from out of his pocket, his brow furrowing as his eyes skimmed across Tom's text message that had been sent rather recently.

From: Tom
Serving drinks. Saving us the cost of buying them with my talent.


Gerald scoffed at the screen and quickly replied.

To: Tom
From: Strike
Very funny. Get your ass over here or you're not getting paid today.


He then scrolled down through his contacts until he found Kat's name.

To: Kat
From: Strike
You sick or something? Still waiting for you and Tom at work.


On a less sarcastic and critical note, he then decided to text Aurora and thank her.

To: Rory
From: Strike
Wonder who left me the present at work today...


It only took ten seconds until his phone vibrated. If she was at the bookstore where she worked, it clearly wasn't busy.

From: Rory
Glad you liked it! :) I thought youd think it was stupid


His lips curled ever so slightly

To: Rory
From: Strike
It was stupid, but in a good way. Thank you. I can't believe you even remembered about that.


She replied, but it took her a minute instead of a couple of seconds.

From: Rory
How could I forget??? Its more than just redemption to me, Gerry. Anyways, I have to tell you something. Its about my power...I think its more than just a gateway.


Strike stared at the screen for a moment, bewildered. He looked around. Still nobody in the pub except Eugene.

To: Rory
From: Strike
What do you mean?


Now it took her two minutes to reply.

From: Rory
Well yknow how we met in like a dream? I think subspace is connected to stuff like that. Dreams, ideas, thoughts...even my emotions. Not only is it an add-on to reality, but its parallel to it. And I think people are connected to those add-ons too. You and me and everyone else. There are millions of us. I could tell you more, and Im going to tell you more soon. But...yeah. KK imma go now. Ttyl.





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Aurora slammed the phone down on the counter near the register and stretched, a long puff of air expelling itself from her lips, which were starting to grow dry and chapped. The bookstore was dead, Nikita, Thomas Kirk, and gallons of alcohol were conversing in their private, slightly angsty discussion, and Aurora was all alone. And all of a sudden, all of the pessimistic, unworthy feelings she had tried to supress with meds daily - the roller-coaster affect of her mood swings - they painfully started to bubble up inside of her like boiling hot water inside a metal pan. She needed some air. And quickly. This bookstore was just too dark...

She grabbed a stool and the fantasy novel she had been reading before, and noiselessly slipped outside. She placed the stool by the front door, it's green paint chipping as per usual. The sunny weather had been refreshing before, but now it just felt dense and muggy. The cloudless sky above her was in it's pre-sunset phase; not dark, but a dull, turquoise shade of blue. A very boring hue. Sighing, she opened up her book and began to flick through the pages.

Thirty pages in, and she wasn't entertained at all. She felt nothing. She was nothing. Aurora wanted to throw the shitty piece of crap-literature on the ground, and eventually she did. What was she doing here? Why was she in Ashweld? She had millions of fantasies at her fingertips, and yet none of them felt whole and real enough than the one she had left behind. She stared long and hard at the golden ring around her finger, tears lining the back of her eyes. Had she been selfish, or right? She only wanted escape and freedom, but now that she had it, she was lost. Undefined. Incomplete. Spinning in circles. Even a town filled with superpowered people like her couldn't quell her need to forgive him. He'd shown her love, even if it was set up, and she had shown him fire...

Suddenly, she slapped herself. LITERALLY slapped herself. No - she needed to control her unstable emotions. This was just her mental disease speaking to her. She had been put in a cage. A stupid gilded cage. But every time she repeated those words in her head, the more they formed into a sugarcoated lie.

Having enough, she stood up, deciding that she'd visit subspace for a while to take her idiotic mind off of idiotic things. But as she looked left and right for the third time that day, she realized that no one was around. It was so desolate, so quiet, so dry, that the world felt like a ghost town. Aurora wouldn't be surprised if a tumbleweed passed through the streets. Maybe it was just an uneventful day...

Maybe it was time to try again.

She looked down at her feet, exhaled, and spread her arms out shoulder-width apart. The girl would get it right this time. She had to. Aurora pulled the air in front of her open again, this time relaxing instead of tensing up. Nothing. She pulled harder. Still nothing. Even harder. Again, nothing. And then when she stretched her fingers apart, moving her feet away from each other as she stomped onto the dirty cement, she felt something. A slight tug. A door.

She tried not to gasp or exert more energy in surprise through her toil. This was just like fishing - if she yanked the line too hard, she was sure to lose the the prize. And this wasn't just some casual fishing she was doing, this was the fishing freaking championships. However, she was losing her catch just by remaining lax, so she pulled harder. It came closer. Harder. Even closer. HARDER. She almost had it...

And then suddenly, without warning, without expectations, without delay, a force pelted her so hard, that she fumbled to the ground. It sounded like a miniature explosion, but it felt like a whirlwind, sucking her in. She removed the strands of stringy red hair away from her face, and looked up at her creation. There, standing two feet in front of her, was a field. Or rather, a field inside of a circular, vibrating portal outlined in a blue mystical light. Her breath stolen, Aurora stared in awe. She had done it. She had opened a door outside of subspace. She had proven that universes were connected to reality, like she had theorized.

She put her right hand through the swirling vortex, and as if on cue, a bird perched in one of the far-off treetops flew closer, situating itself on her pale white fingertips. This wasn't some ordinary bird. It was blue, but it wasn't a bluejay. No, it's color was that of the sky. It had the figure of a raven, but instead of being the symbol of night, it was the essence of day.

And when the bluebird flew from her fingers straight into the world of Ashweld, that's when Aurora felt the weight of the world on her shoulders. It was as if the life had instantly been drained from her, her knees going wobbly, her ears popping, then ringing. Her head about to explode. She collapsed right there, lifelessly unconscious while a slick, black shadow slinked through her portal, multiplying itself like a sped-up amoeba until it came in a dozen large shades of coal-like smoke, and sped through all parts of the town. It was an unnatural wind with no intentions of being tamed.

Aurora had not simply created a portal.

She had created a monster.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Clay McCoy Character Portrait: Charlotte Weaver
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#, as written by Mackamp
ImageImageAs Charlotte approached the lake she relived her firsts there: The first fish she caught, the first time she swam across the lake, the first time she drove a boat, her first date, her first kiss, the first time she sang in front of people, and her first time to second base. Yea this lake had some wonderful memories. Charlotte propped her self against the smooth bark of the white birch and stretched out her 43 inch long legs. Rummaging through her bag, she came across that damn condom from earlier today. She twirled it between her fingers,eyeing it like it was a magic bottle that could make a man appear; then she realized the writing on it,had all been rubbed off and there was a tear in the one corner, " Char that condom has been in your bag since....."her train of thought was broken, because she couldn't recall when she had placed it in there. She plopped it back into her bag "not like I need it anyways" and she made a mental note to remember to throw it away when she got home.

Charlotte's book, " Binary Star ", was genuinely a good read, but she was distracted. It wasn't like her to be so forward. She didn't know what was wrong with her, and for the last few months she felt drawn to the Sheriff....felt connected, like there was some energy source that was pulling her towards him. Of course, she knew that was crazy and obviously he didn't feel that same draw or he would have said something to her, right?

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Clay McCoy Character Portrait: Charlotte Weaver
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#, as written by Mackamp
Image

The exquisitely beautiful day was just beginning to lose its luster. A few hours from now the mid-day sun would fade to dusk on the horizon. Charlotte was still contemplating what a fool she made of herself; when an eerie wind flipped the pages of the book, wakening her from her daze. Shuttering she grabbed her sweater from her bag. This was no ordinary sweater. Her nanny, Mrs. Gossamer, wove it for her and told her to keep it with her always, that the sweater would protect her in more than one way. (Charlotte was not born with a power, but because of her gift of enchantment, her intuition was elevated beyond normal). Thumbing through her book, half heartly.... "O.K. he has 30 more minutes and if he doesn't show up I'm leaving.....and I'm going to ignore my damn intuition from now on and him!!" rereading a line, then thumbing threw her book again; she pulled her sweater up around her neck, the unnatural wind making Charlotte feel uneasy. Suddenly the ground shook with a shockingly loud explosion, and Charlotte immediately leaped to her feet and stared in the direction of the sound, the direction of Ashweld. "What the hell was that?" Charlotte couldn't see anything for the trees; slung her bag on her back and with caution, ran towards towne.