Aw, shucks, you’re spoiling me… (ノ*゜▽゜*)
Actually, thanks for prompting that ficlet, anon, it helped me learn more about Kaiza, too, especially her progression to the woman that she is “today” and how immortality changes people.
Here’s an unwritten headcanon ficlet (are they still headcanons if it’s for an original character?) for Doctor Ellen Tsukiko Kaiza because while she’s still mostly a mystery to me, there are some details about her background which I’ve been meaning to share. Enjoy!
Witches don’t like her.
That’s fine. She doesn’t much like witches either. The way they act as if their power actually means anything to her, like thunder in front of a mountain. She was immortal long before the resurgence of magic, ancient before they cobbled together laws and customs; children playing at adulthood.
Little Faye Peridot still hates and fears her for taking away her sister. She’s the oldest luminary on the Premier Witch Council.
Power is not what earns Kaiza’s respect and she’s lived so long, age means nothing to her.
Brian becomes her ward mostly by accident. It is one of her many regrets.
If she had been more proactive about it, more clear about her affection for him, more available and open, less cold and objective, would anything have changed?
Probably not. And even so, it’s too late.
If she’s learned one thing over the centuries it’s that the only thing as bad as immortality inflicted on mortals is the ability to time travel.
There be dragons, but at least dragons can be killed.
“Have mercy on me,” Nyx says, as elegantly out of place in Kaiza’s clinic as ever, “don’t you have any sympathy for a worried mother?”
It’d help Nyx’s case more if she didn’t sound like she were reading from a particularly bland phonebook.
“If ever I did,” Kaiza shoots back, “I’d have used it up on some other mother in far more need of it than you.”
The list is long, there were tears and threats and fruitless, desperate bargaining. Kaiza has done worse to less deserving mothers, has felt guilt for greater crimes.
“Suck it up, your daughter is going to school, not to war. She doesn’t need me playing guardian angel… And plus, mercy’s not really your thing, now is it?”
No, she doesn’t have any sympathy for Nyx, the best Devil’s Advocate on this plane and the next.
She is so old that werewolf pack boundaries build around her, not the other way around. The Delano Pack to the northeast, with the sprawling forests and rocky mountains, the Chand Pack to the southwest towards Cadmium City and the coast.
Her clinic and, by extension, the town of Belleview which also grew around her is not neutral territory. It’s her territory.
Or so the alphas of both packs say, shoulders back and nostrils flared. Ready to fight her, each other, anyone who so much as makes eye contact.
Peace between packs is more important than her growing irritation, but only just.
“You might as well just combine packs. Then there wouldn’t be anymore boundary issues,” she says, exasperated by all the useless back and forth. She may be needling them just a little: she almost wants a fight to break out just so she has a reason to smack them down.
Instead, both alphas respond with considering noises.
In three decades she will be reluctantly impressed by their chosen heir.
Every year, on the anniversary of her curse, she gets an envelope from Grey Investigations.
What a waste of paper, she thinks, as she throws it away. Jack should know better by now.
But Jack always was an optimistic idiot.
It’s what got them cursed in the first place.
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