Glimpses

There are times when, as a handler, you can see your characters doing things that don't quite make it to any particular thread. Charries have lives outside of threads, and backstories that don't always make it to their own time turner thread. This is my thread for that.

I give you: Glimpses

Karma Black, a small, shy, four year old, peeking around her mother’s legs on her first day of preschool. She’s not sure why, exactly, her mother insisted they go out for this, but she loved to make her mama happy, and mama was never as happy as when she saw her daughter playing at the park. On her first time on the slide, she was pushed by an older boy, causing her to fall and skin her knee. Clearly expected to cry, Karma paused where she was on the ground looking around for her mother.

When the woman seemed to be looking away, the boy took an unexpected dive off the jungle gym.

Karma never shed a tear.

---

Karma on her first day at Hogwarts, quiet and shy, keeping to herself. Placed in Slytherin after much deliberation on the part of the Sorting Hat - which came down to her nose - she deliberated asking the headmaster if there was some kind of mistake. She didn’t have the cunning or cleverness that came with being a Slytherin, and she loved books and reading as much as any Ravenclaw. Perhaps that would be better?

---

Karma seeing that new Arsen kid for the first time, giving him a second glance not because of the color of his eyes, but because of the way he held himself. He was sure of who he was. Of what he was.

From then on she decided to try to be more like Arsen.

She also started hating his very existance.

---

Karma waking up with a massive headache, finding herself on Arsen’s lap, confused and still half- drunk. Most would find the fact they had just gotten drunk underneath the Quidditch Stands with a boy they hated quite uncomfortable, but the only thing she was uncomfortable with was just how comfortable she was.

She’d still swear up and down she hated him.

---

A young Brock Cox, standing in the midst of a crowd cheering for ‘Veni’, looking around at all the smiling faces with a growing panic. No one seems to hear his words, no matter how many times he says them, no matter how many faces he searches. No one seems to care.

“My name is Brock!”

---

Amora Kirke, standing beside her little brother, taking in all the little things she hadn’t noticed about him while she was human. The way his voice was slowly getting deeper, cracking its journey to perfection. The way his hair, so much like hers, sparkled in the sunlight, even after he cut it. The way his eyes gleamed the way hers used to. The way his blood rushed through his veins when he blushed. The way his heartrate accelerated whenever he saw her enter the room. He wasn’t afraid of her, he promised. He wasn’t scared, even though he knew what she was. He was going to help her. He’d said it himself.

She didn’t know that help came along with the british priest.

She hadn’t realized that two hundred years was far too long for her brother to still be a preteen.

She hadn’t realized that Antoni’s real name was Ralph.

---

Brock Cox, now a young man, searching every jewelry store in the muggle and magical register until he comes across the perfect ring. It takes him exactly 426 days to work up enough honest money to buy it, and he spends the time planning the perfect proposal. He imagines at least a thousand romantic scenarios that he later deems too cheesy, and thinks of about two hundred that he decides are too plain. Eventually, he figures he’ll just act natural and spring it upon her, as was his way.

He knows she’ll be ecstatic.

---

Karma Black at 11 years old, sitting on the swingset of the park she used to go to with her mother. She watches the playing children with a small smile. She remembers being that happy. All at once, one falls and starts to cry. The child’s mother is automatically there, picking him up and promising to make everything better.

The world is blurred by her tears before she has vampire speed.

Pack House,
Late at Night/Early in the Morning
Brock's Bed Room

Brown eyes trained carefully on its target, the man continued to stay poised, ready to pounce, as he gazed at the still-growing mound that had become his Volchitsu's stomach. Watching the easy rise and fall that came with Vera's breath, the man slowly raised a hand, gently placing it over her skin. She stirred, but did not awaken. After a moment of no change, he leaned forward, resting his ear and straining his ears for-

Suddenly he was kneeling beside the bed, peeking up over the bedspread at the lump. It looked perfectly normal, there attached to her tummy, just an extra few pounds of Vera, nothing to worry about. But it- it seemed to be-

Doing the thing that woke him in the first place.

Hesitantly, with a glance up at Vera to make sure she was still sleeping, he crawled back onto the bed, resting on his knees beside her midsection and biting his lower lip. Another glance up at the sleeping woman, and he leaned forward, laying both hands on her stomach and leaning forward.

He resisted the urge to run when... it... moved again.

Eyes widening slightly, he leaned closer, lips quivering, as he glanced back up at Vera once more. "Hello?" He called softly, voice directed at her abdomen.

He gave the biggest grin when the child moved under his palms.