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[character information @Siren's Pull]
Character Information
General
Canon Source: The Dresden Files, by Jim Butcher.
Canon Format: Novelization.
Character's Name: Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden [ Harry Dresden, Warden Dresden, "that mouthy bastard". ]
Character's Age: 39; born Oct. 31, 1973
What form will your character's NV take? A small, moleskin notebook. Battered around the edges because he keeps stuffing it haphazardly into his damn pockets. Literally just like this thing:
Harry can't/doesn't comprehend how to use technology, which I will elaborate upon in the "canon abilities" section. He's a private investigator, however, and would presumably carry a notebook with which to record information in during cases, or when speaking to clients. It would be battered, earmarked, written upon, stained and suffered other minor abuse, simply because he's used the thing so often.
Abilities
Character's Canon Abilities:
Reference.
Okay, file him under "w" for "wizard, take note that his surname is "Dresden", not "Potter" and don't go mixing the two up. This means magic is his main canon ability, and it's an ability that is as mixed up in his character as breathing would be in his lungs. Since the age of about ten, he has been wielding fires and winds like he was playing cat's cradle with string and trying to make lockpicks out of paper clips. Magic in his canon universe takes the basic form of "energy created from life", which practitioners then manipulate and use to augment their surroundings in a wide variety of styles.
Practitioners at the level of "wizard" (which is much like a big, private club for the heaviest hitters when it comes to magic) enjoy longevity of life, measures in centuries, not decades, and an extraordinary ability to heal better. Not faster, but better. Were Harry to break his arm, the break would eventually heal without a scar or relative weakness in the bone. As his lifestyle practically requires him getting pummeled to oblivion and back on a regular basis, he enjoys this healing factor more often than not. They also employ natural, sensory-enhancing talents that come with wicked nasty repercussions if used too often, or for too long. For instance, he doesn't make eye contact. Ever. That's because if or when he does ( and the individual he locked eyes with has a soul), there is a mutual exchange of just about everything that motivates, shapes, inspires that person; their potential futures, perhaps, what they are capable of, their darkest secrets. Referred to as a "Soulgaze", that highly intrusive, invasive and intimate view into their soul goes both ways, and never fades from memory.
You look too long into an abyss, and it starts looking back, you know.
Here's a link about magic as he knows it. Important to note, and not written, is that his variation of magic uses objects called foci (which improve the accuracy, strength and control) and pseudo-languages (which helps a practitioner distinguish "everyday words" from "spellcasting words"; ie. Harry's mix of dog-Latin and Spanish). It is dangerous for someone like him to be "wizardy" without using these two things, especially during evocation.
Harry's strength lies in thaumaturgy, which he describes as "making small things happen on a bigger scale" by forging a link between an item and an item or individual. It requires part of the target to be successful, which is also why practitioners like him are highly paranoid and defensive when it comes to something so simple as getting their hair cut, as hair is a common medium to use in thaumaturgy. His secondary strength, but what he is most well-known for in the magical community, is his evocation skills. Known as "kablooey" magic, or magic that makes things go "abracafuckingboom", evocation is a lot like gunslinging. Used in shootouts, or when on the fly, Harry is known for having a shit ton of power, little finesse (at least until he began to learn finer control) and the oft-heard protests: "That fire was not my fault" or "I don't know what you're talking about, the building just up and imploded by itself".
Also important, though written, is the effect magic has on technology, especially technology created after World War II. Harry is walking, talking technobane. Credit cards are wiped, hard drives crash, water heaters break down, cellphones malfunction. The stronger his emotions, the larger the area of effect. However, a practitioner that is more familiar with the equipment in question is less likely to wreck things. He can most likely operate something such as washers and dryers in laundromats, and has been known to rein in his magical ability using suppression fields, so that he may interact with surrounding technology. It takes a lot of concentration and restraint, and the "restraint" portion is not something he's known for.
As a "reward" for spurning attempts by a Fallen Angel (known as a "Knight of the Blackened Denarius" or "Denarian" or "Lasciel the Tempress" or, as he liked to call her, "Lash") the archangel Uriel gifted him with the ability to access and use "soulfire", which is basically a big angel whammy and gives physical, tangible structure to his magic. It provides power to the intention, as opposed to the Fallen Angel's variation (hellfire, which Harry has also manipulated) which powers means. It's a bit like a tug-of-war between "do i feel strongly" or "do i do strongly". The soulfire gave him better control, rather than more power, in this aspect. He typically fucks around with it by making a ghostly, silvery hand and he probably smells a lot like the hosts of Heaven when reaching for that power. HE doesn't take kindly to the Christian-esque deities taking sudden interest in him, but he definitely appreciates the "precision grip" it provides him with his magic.
It also sort of, uh, uses his human soul - so if he uses it too much, he runs the risk of turning into a shell??? But don't worry, it grows back after a period of a few days if he doesn't run on empty.
Reference.
Besides magic, Harry also is decent with handguns (he has owned and operated various heavy-duty revolvers and magnums), swords (particularly skilled in a style akin to fencing), and the fighting style of aikido.
Weapons:
Reference.
You mean besides his sharp tongue and rapier wit?
Harry bedecks himself in foci that he has either purchased, or handcrafted. He's got rings that store energy, simple silver bands with runes etched on the insides. By going one or seven rounds with a punching bag (as the energy is stored through the motion of his hands and arms), he stacks the kinetic energy inside the bands, and stores it for later use. These rings are some of the only foci he owns that do not require vocal cues to trigger. When they are empty of power, they double as a great set of knuckle dusters.
On his left wrist, he wears what looks like a bracelet made of mixed metals (predominantly silver), braided together, with little shield charms (in silver, iron, nickel, copper and brass) that hang off it. While it may look like a cute charm bracelet, it serves a purpose that is betrayed by its own appearance: shielding. This is the second variation of such a bracelet, and while it drains a hell of a lot more energy and does so faster, it is capable of blocking out magical, physical (bullets, mostly) and important things like thermodynamics - which is why he had to replace the bracelet in the first place. Having your hand charbroiled teaches very important lessons about the laws of thermodynamics, after all.
He's got two other phallic symbols -- I mean foci -- in the form of a carved oak staff that doubles as a great beatin' tool in a pinch a la' Teddy Roosevelt ("speak softly, and carry a big stick") and a blasting rod, used to really quickly, really efficiently focus willpower into a spell, particularly if that spell is violent or meant for offensive maneuvers.
The last two pieces of his equipment happens to be something practical, highly sentimental, and a interesting wardrobe choice. Harry wears a black, leather duster that had been gifted to him by an... ex-girlfriend. He has enchanted to serve as body armor. It has blocked against bullets, bites and bludgeoning alike. The second is the silver, pentacle amulet he wears around his neck. Inherited from his mother (a woman of, apparently, great power and mystery), it serves as his own "light of Eärendil"-slash-flashlight, if you don't want to be fancy and witty about it, and an object of his beliefs, which alone has carried him through a lot of awful shit.
Other weaponry he has used, or has carried on his person include: a cane sword, and non-magical items such as handguns and magnums, including his most recent gun, which is a Smith and Wesson Model 29 .44 - which only serves to make him look twice the cowboy he pretends to be.
History/Personality/Plans/etc.
Character History: Link.
Though I think that everything necessary in there, if there are any questions, I can and will elaborate.
Point in Canon:
Post-Turn Coat; probably around a month afterwards. Meaning that the events of Changes and beyond have not happened.
Character Personality:
Okay. You're given a choice of two doors. Behind one door is the woman you love, behind the other is a tiger that's hungry as fuck. You're told: "hey man like you have to pick one, which one is it the lady or the tiger"? Wait. No, that's not it. Not even close. Okay, try this instead. You're given two options: give up the woman you love to prevent a war that will surely bring harm to more than you can save, or save the woman you love and start a war that will surely bring harm to more than you can save? You're told: "hey man like you have to pick one, which is it the lady or the war"?
"You would flirt with chaos, destruction - with war. For the sake of this one wounded soul?"
"The way I see it, there's nothing else worth fighting a war for."
If you're Harry, you pick the former and deal with the consequences. Where else do you begin with a man like that? He's got a surname synonymous with a firebombed city, and his temper's just as explosive. Heroic to a degree akin to outright insanity; graced with acerbic wit and a reputation that coalesces in a cowboy's swagger. Harry has a mouth like a shotgun, and there's a twitchy trigger finger on it at all times. People love him, hate him, fear him or fear for him - this strangely charismatic asshole of a protagonist and narrator that he is. A highly problematic guy, but undeniably endearing at the core.
The number one thing to take note of, when interacting with Harry Dresden, is that his mouth gets him in and out of trouble more often than not. Neither friends, nor foe alike escape it. He's got an abrasive quality to his voice: talks his friends down when they're high, talks them up when they're low. Talks his enemies into fits of uncharacteristic rage, manipulates them with his humor, his culture references, when he slurs his words together and uses them as a big "fuck you". He has used his mouth against semi-divine creatures (got beat up for that), supernatural creatures (got beat up for that too), people and not-people in high places (got beat down so low for that one that he's still picking dirt out from between his teeth) and authority in general. He is his own mouthpiece. He's as funny as he is sarcastic, as charming as he is vicious.
Harry balks against authority. Against people and creatures and institutions that threaten his autonomy and independence (something, that, invariably happens on an alarmingly regular basis in his world). Equipped with a temper that worsens with age, it becomes an invariably and unsavory fact of life that if things aren't done his way, he's bound to get really, really hostile. To his credit, his hostility is brought out best when others could potentially be harmed as a consequence (he's a hypocrite, you'll take note), or when one attempts to press him into any form of servitude or subjugation. He hates collars, and has been known to bite the hand that attempts to feed him. Those In The Know in his community (Chicago; the magical world) have dubbed him a ticking time bomb, but don't say that to his face. He can resent it all he likes, but when the facts back the suggestion, it's hard to shake off living up to the expectations of those who've always treated you like a criminal.
Speaking of expectations, Harry has plenty of his own, for himself and really doesn't need others to add to them. The number one expectation he holds himself to, is that because he has been graced with power, he has a responsibility to use it to benefit others. In short, he has to be a hero. It's a tragic ideal, and a difficult one to live up to, as it defines his actions in stark black-and-white morality, and leaves him unable to develop as a human being past "i do this because i always have". Some of his actions can be excused, as responsibility and being responsible are notions that have been beaten into him from a young age. Being treated like a criminal by the White Council (the governing body of his magical community), though the case was self-defense, with nearly all the evidence in his favor has forced his hand. While he thumbs his nose at authority, he holds himself violently to the idea that he has to be responsible for his own actions and his power.
As you might assume, this comes to tragic conclusions - often, and he's not a fast learner.
Excuse him for his unhealthy idealism, but he still believes in notions like true love and romance and white picket fences. It hasn't been beaten out of him yet, though his faith in such obscure ideals has been dragged through muck and mire over the years. Harry's a product of his childhood, of life, of growing up with a father made of nostalgia and kindness and magnificent illusions, in a foster home with his nose pressed to the glass wondering when the magic trick was going to end and he'd go home, in a home where someone he trusted stabbed him in the kidneys and the rest of the world told him to walk it off. It's hard not to cling to the idea that there might still be something soft and gentle in the world, and maybe he still deserves it. He'll cross his t's and dot his i's and reach out to another so long as they don't plan on reaching back. Harry's life has been wrought with betrayals, and they define him in subtle ways, ones that he has steadily repressed and done his best to forget about and ignore.
Flip side: what makes him endearing, if all this weighs him down? At heart, he's compassionate. Perhaps it's years spent as a private investigator, but he picks up on visual and verbal cues with alarming accuracy and will never turn someone down when they're in need. It's one of the reasons he took on his job in the first place. While he rarely compromises (ie. his morals, his methods), he genuinely likes people and tries to work for their benefit. Being magically-gifted means, to him, that he has a responsibility to do what he can for those who are in need, or are unable, to accomplish certain things: like finding something, or if in need of advice. He is far from stupid, though likened to a "magical thug" often enough, due to his raw power and heavy handed tactics. Harry is intelligent, inquisitive and just plain doesn't give up, despite the potential pain-and-death part, until he has accomplished what he set out to do.
He's not psychologically healthy, but he "manages" the best he can with the tools he's learned to use. This is why Harry can be considered a character that operates on two levels: his surface (toting traits such as responsibility, humor, compassion and determination) and his substance (wherein lay the things he doesn't speak of: betrayal, victimization, and the lies he tells himself). He is an absolutely awful liar otherwise, as he is a man made up of physical tells and body language that reads like an open book. The only person he lies well to is himself.
Character Plans:
In his eyes, Chicago needs him. He will be arriving in Siren's Pull while a war is raging back at home, and will most likely be restless (perhaps a bit reckless) in attempting to get home, while simultaneously trying not to become beholden to any of the factions, unless what they stand for lines up with his morals. In the interim, as he's looking for an answer to his situation, he'll probably try to set up an investigative service or work odd jobs, as it's what he's good at.
He'll try to keep his head down, but you don't sport a surname like "Dresden" without getting into trouble often.
Eventually, I plan to canon-update him through the three subsequent novels (Changes, Ghost Story and Cold Days) in the series. As of right now, I'm holding off for fear of retconning information.
Appearance/PB: Link.
There are some differences, however: Harry will be arriving to Siren's Pull in a grey t-shirt, worn jeans, black Chuck Taylors and the leather duster mentioned previously. Lee Pace is 6'3", but Harry is written to be closer to 6'9". Unlike Lee Pace, as well, Harry has a scar that passes through his right eye and terminates at the cheekbone, then picks up through his lip. He also wears a glove on his left hand, underneath which is scar tissue from an old burn.
Writing Samples
First Person Sample
Toto, I don't think this is Wrigley Field anymore. I feel like I'm in Siberia because I said I liked the Cubs in the middle of a bunch of Yankees fans. [ Talk about sarcasm to the nth degree, pouring from this guy's mouth like it's second nature. The baseball diamond doesn't look like much from where he's sitting, but it's clean enough and Harry doesn't feel much like moving just yet, not when the vertigo keeps him from so much as twitching his eyes the wrong way. Some member of the greeting committee flitting about in his peripheral vision, talking about darkness and SERO and some other place. AJI? ATI? ATT?
He'd listened long enough to figure out that he had a network. Er, networking capabilities. That's why his mug was, by that point, browsing that network in search of information. ] This is so... [ Now the video feed is upside down because Harry's shaking his NV around as though suddenly entranced by the act of figuring out how it works. He's a scholar, he's got questions. ] Nifty? Handy? Bizarre?
Okay, what's this thing d-- [ and whoops there goes the nv feed entirely how is he going to communicate properly ]
Third Person Sample
The graffiti states, plain and simple: there's always something stronger than you in siren's port. Harry had put his hands to his hips the moment he'd seen it, screwed his brow up and scoffed. A fact of life, immortalized in paint on a wall. There was always a bigger fish, always something bigger and bolder and liable to kick thine ass from wall to wall. He knew it for a fact, because sometimes he'd run a hand over his face and remember there was a scar there - that it still twinged when he smiled, still ached when he remembered the monster that put it there. Cold. Impersonal. For pleasure. There was always something bigger than a breadbox, and it hadn't stopped him yet.
His head was still swimming. A throbbing pulse-pound that makes him squint at the rest of the painted text. Harry was not a stranger to pain, but even he can barely stand after that tumble through dimensions. Wherever he was, his mouth tasted like blood (probably bit his cheek, and after running his tongue along the inside, deemed it so), he'd got dirt up his nose and abrasions on his right palm where he threw his hands out to try and break his ungainly, rough landing.
Teeth worked his mouth over, shredding an already-manged bottom lip as he thought. Leaned back on his heels to contemplate the situation. Point A, this was not Chicago. The skyline was wrong, the feel of the energy flow as he breathed deep and felt it fill his lungs was entirely wrong, it was quiet in all the ways of a sleeping beast and lacked the familiarity of the urban jungle he'd given his heart to. It smelled like decay curled up alongside the walls, roosted like a fat pigeon and promptly died in the gutters. It was nothing like Chicago, and he didn't even know how far he was from his city. Just that there had been a tug about his navel, and the split second between then and there, it was colder than Arctis Tor in the middle of winter (not that he knew what that was like, but he figured it was balls cold and wasn't dressed for the occasion).
"Your concern is touching," he finally quipped back to the graffiti on the wall, since there's just no one else around, and no stopping his mouth once it started moving. It's just part of his person, to write off even a warning like that as needless. Not because he thought himself strong, but because regardless of authority, of power, of threat to his health or sanity -- he's going to butt heads with it. Snark and fire and everything defiant, that's what Siren's Port just Pulled into its midst. Time to see how it coped with the knowledge.
Quick Access Glossary:
[Practitioner] - A general term for anyone who manipulates and uses magic.
[Wizard] - A type of practitioner akin to the heavyweight class in boxing; they are generally invited (or forcibly inducted) into a private, conservative group so that an eye may be kept on them for abuse of power, or to utilize their talents for the common good.
[White Council] - The private, conservative group that was previously mentioned. The Council serves as a governing body, and is made up of "the Merlin" (head of the entire group), the Senior Council (the eldest or most skilled wizards) and the rest of the enclave.
[Warden] - The military force of the White Council, Wardens serve as the might, and often as the executioners of the White Council's will.
[ETC.]
General
Canon Source: The Dresden Files, by Jim Butcher.
Canon Format: Novelization.
Character's Name: Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden [ Harry Dresden, Warden Dresden, "that mouthy bastard". ]
Character's Age: 39; born Oct. 31, 1973
What form will your character's NV take? A small, moleskin notebook. Battered around the edges because he keeps stuffing it haphazardly into his damn pockets. Literally just like this thing:
Harry can't/doesn't comprehend how to use technology, which I will elaborate upon in the "canon abilities" section. He's a private investigator, however, and would presumably carry a notebook with which to record information in during cases, or when speaking to clients. It would be battered, earmarked, written upon, stained and suffered other minor abuse, simply because he's used the thing so often.
Abilities
Character's Canon Abilities:
Reference.
Okay, file him under "w" for "wizard, take note that his surname is "Dresden", not "Potter" and don't go mixing the two up. This means magic is his main canon ability, and it's an ability that is as mixed up in his character as breathing would be in his lungs. Since the age of about ten, he has been wielding fires and winds like he was playing cat's cradle with string and trying to make lockpicks out of paper clips. Magic in his canon universe takes the basic form of "energy created from life", which practitioners then manipulate and use to augment their surroundings in a wide variety of styles.
Practitioners at the level of "wizard" (which is much like a big, private club for the heaviest hitters when it comes to magic) enjoy longevity of life, measures in centuries, not decades, and an extraordinary ability to heal better. Not faster, but better. Were Harry to break his arm, the break would eventually heal without a scar or relative weakness in the bone. As his lifestyle practically requires him getting pummeled to oblivion and back on a regular basis, he enjoys this healing factor more often than not. They also employ natural, sensory-enhancing talents that come with wicked nasty repercussions if used too often, or for too long. For instance, he doesn't make eye contact. Ever. That's because if or when he does ( and the individual he locked eyes with has a soul), there is a mutual exchange of just about everything that motivates, shapes, inspires that person; their potential futures, perhaps, what they are capable of, their darkest secrets. Referred to as a "Soulgaze", that highly intrusive, invasive and intimate view into their soul goes both ways, and never fades from memory.
You look too long into an abyss, and it starts looking back, you know.
Here's a link about magic as he knows it. Important to note, and not written, is that his variation of magic uses objects called foci (which improve the accuracy, strength and control) and pseudo-languages (which helps a practitioner distinguish "everyday words" from "spellcasting words"; ie. Harry's mix of dog-Latin and Spanish). It is dangerous for someone like him to be "wizardy" without using these two things, especially during evocation.
Harry's strength lies in thaumaturgy, which he describes as "making small things happen on a bigger scale" by forging a link between an item and an item or individual. It requires part of the target to be successful, which is also why practitioners like him are highly paranoid and defensive when it comes to something so simple as getting their hair cut, as hair is a common medium to use in thaumaturgy. His secondary strength, but what he is most well-known for in the magical community, is his evocation skills. Known as "kablooey" magic, or magic that makes things go "abracafuckingboom", evocation is a lot like gunslinging. Used in shootouts, or when on the fly, Harry is known for having a shit ton of power, little finesse (at least until he began to learn finer control) and the oft-heard protests: "That fire was not my fault" or "I don't know what you're talking about, the building just up and imploded by itself".
Also important, though written, is the effect magic has on technology, especially technology created after World War II. Harry is walking, talking technobane. Credit cards are wiped, hard drives crash, water heaters break down, cellphones malfunction. The stronger his emotions, the larger the area of effect. However, a practitioner that is more familiar with the equipment in question is less likely to wreck things. He can most likely operate something such as washers and dryers in laundromats, and has been known to rein in his magical ability using suppression fields, so that he may interact with surrounding technology. It takes a lot of concentration and restraint, and the "restraint" portion is not something he's known for.
As a "reward" for spurning attempts by a Fallen Angel (known as a "Knight of the Blackened Denarius" or "Denarian" or "Lasciel the Tempress" or, as he liked to call her, "Lash") the archangel Uriel gifted him with the ability to access and use "soulfire", which is basically a big angel whammy and gives physical, tangible structure to his magic. It provides power to the intention, as opposed to the Fallen Angel's variation (hellfire, which Harry has also manipulated) which powers means. It's a bit like a tug-of-war between "do i feel strongly" or "do i do strongly". The soulfire gave him better control, rather than more power, in this aspect. He typically fucks around with it by making a ghostly, silvery hand and he probably smells a lot like the hosts of Heaven when reaching for that power. HE doesn't take kindly to the Christian-esque deities taking sudden interest in him, but he definitely appreciates the "precision grip" it provides him with his magic.
It also sort of, uh, uses his human soul - so if he uses it too much, he runs the risk of turning into a shell??? But don't worry, it grows back after a period of a few days if he doesn't run on empty.
Reference.
Besides magic, Harry also is decent with handguns (he has owned and operated various heavy-duty revolvers and magnums), swords (particularly skilled in a style akin to fencing), and the fighting style of aikido.
Weapons:
Reference.
You mean besides his sharp tongue and rapier wit?
Harry bedecks himself in foci that he has either purchased, or handcrafted. He's got rings that store energy, simple silver bands with runes etched on the insides. By going one or seven rounds with a punching bag (as the energy is stored through the motion of his hands and arms), he stacks the kinetic energy inside the bands, and stores it for later use. These rings are some of the only foci he owns that do not require vocal cues to trigger. When they are empty of power, they double as a great set of knuckle dusters.
On his left wrist, he wears what looks like a bracelet made of mixed metals (predominantly silver), braided together, with little shield charms (in silver, iron, nickel, copper and brass) that hang off it. While it may look like a cute charm bracelet, it serves a purpose that is betrayed by its own appearance: shielding. This is the second variation of such a bracelet, and while it drains a hell of a lot more energy and does so faster, it is capable of blocking out magical, physical (bullets, mostly) and important things like thermodynamics - which is why he had to replace the bracelet in the first place. Having your hand charbroiled teaches very important lessons about the laws of thermodynamics, after all.
He's got two other phallic symbols -- I mean foci -- in the form of a carved oak staff that doubles as a great beatin' tool in a pinch a la' Teddy Roosevelt ("speak softly, and carry a big stick") and a blasting rod, used to really quickly, really efficiently focus willpower into a spell, particularly if that spell is violent or meant for offensive maneuvers.
The last two pieces of his equipment happens to be something practical, highly sentimental, and a interesting wardrobe choice. Harry wears a black, leather duster that had been gifted to him by an... ex-girlfriend. He has enchanted to serve as body armor. It has blocked against bullets, bites and bludgeoning alike. The second is the silver, pentacle amulet he wears around his neck. Inherited from his mother (a woman of, apparently, great power and mystery), it serves as his own "light of Eärendil"-slash-flashlight, if you don't want to be fancy and witty about it, and an object of his beliefs, which alone has carried him through a lot of awful shit.
Other weaponry he has used, or has carried on his person include: a cane sword, and non-magical items such as handguns and magnums, including his most recent gun, which is a Smith and Wesson Model 29 .44 - which only serves to make him look twice the cowboy he pretends to be.
History/Personality/Plans/etc.
Character History: Link.
Though I think that everything necessary in there, if there are any questions, I can and will elaborate.
Point in Canon:
Post-Turn Coat; probably around a month afterwards. Meaning that the events of Changes and beyond have not happened.
Character Personality:
Okay. You're given a choice of two doors. Behind one door is the woman you love, behind the other is a tiger that's hungry as fuck. You're told: "hey man like you have to pick one, which one is it the lady or the tiger"? Wait. No, that's not it. Not even close. Okay, try this instead. You're given two options: give up the woman you love to prevent a war that will surely bring harm to more than you can save, or save the woman you love and start a war that will surely bring harm to more than you can save? You're told: "hey man like you have to pick one, which is it the lady or the war"?
"The way I see it, there's nothing else worth fighting a war for."
If you're Harry, you pick the former and deal with the consequences. Where else do you begin with a man like that? He's got a surname synonymous with a firebombed city, and his temper's just as explosive. Heroic to a degree akin to outright insanity; graced with acerbic wit and a reputation that coalesces in a cowboy's swagger. Harry has a mouth like a shotgun, and there's a twitchy trigger finger on it at all times. People love him, hate him, fear him or fear for him - this strangely charismatic asshole of a protagonist and narrator that he is. A highly problematic guy, but undeniably endearing at the core.
The number one thing to take note of, when interacting with Harry Dresden, is that his mouth gets him in and out of trouble more often than not. Neither friends, nor foe alike escape it. He's got an abrasive quality to his voice: talks his friends down when they're high, talks them up when they're low. Talks his enemies into fits of uncharacteristic rage, manipulates them with his humor, his culture references, when he slurs his words together and uses them as a big "fuck you". He has used his mouth against semi-divine creatures (got beat up for that), supernatural creatures (got beat up for that too), people and not-people in high places (got beat down so low for that one that he's still picking dirt out from between his teeth) and authority in general. He is his own mouthpiece. He's as funny as he is sarcastic, as charming as he is vicious.
Harry balks against authority. Against people and creatures and institutions that threaten his autonomy and independence (something, that, invariably happens on an alarmingly regular basis in his world). Equipped with a temper that worsens with age, it becomes an invariably and unsavory fact of life that if things aren't done his way, he's bound to get really, really hostile. To his credit, his hostility is brought out best when others could potentially be harmed as a consequence (he's a hypocrite, you'll take note), or when one attempts to press him into any form of servitude or subjugation. He hates collars, and has been known to bite the hand that attempts to feed him. Those In The Know in his community (Chicago; the magical world) have dubbed him a ticking time bomb, but don't say that to his face. He can resent it all he likes, but when the facts back the suggestion, it's hard to shake off living up to the expectations of those who've always treated you like a criminal.
Speaking of expectations, Harry has plenty of his own, for himself and really doesn't need others to add to them. The number one expectation he holds himself to, is that because he has been graced with power, he has a responsibility to use it to benefit others. In short, he has to be a hero. It's a tragic ideal, and a difficult one to live up to, as it defines his actions in stark black-and-white morality, and leaves him unable to develop as a human being past "i do this because i always have". Some of his actions can be excused, as responsibility and being responsible are notions that have been beaten into him from a young age. Being treated like a criminal by the White Council (the governing body of his magical community), though the case was self-defense, with nearly all the evidence in his favor has forced his hand. While he thumbs his nose at authority, he holds himself violently to the idea that he has to be responsible for his own actions and his power.
As you might assume, this comes to tragic conclusions - often, and he's not a fast learner.
Excuse him for his unhealthy idealism, but he still believes in notions like true love and romance and white picket fences. It hasn't been beaten out of him yet, though his faith in such obscure ideals has been dragged through muck and mire over the years. Harry's a product of his childhood, of life, of growing up with a father made of nostalgia and kindness and magnificent illusions, in a foster home with his nose pressed to the glass wondering when the magic trick was going to end and he'd go home, in a home where someone he trusted stabbed him in the kidneys and the rest of the world told him to walk it off. It's hard not to cling to the idea that there might still be something soft and gentle in the world, and maybe he still deserves it. He'll cross his t's and dot his i's and reach out to another so long as they don't plan on reaching back. Harry's life has been wrought with betrayals, and they define him in subtle ways, ones that he has steadily repressed and done his best to forget about and ignore.
Flip side: what makes him endearing, if all this weighs him down? At heart, he's compassionate. Perhaps it's years spent as a private investigator, but he picks up on visual and verbal cues with alarming accuracy and will never turn someone down when they're in need. It's one of the reasons he took on his job in the first place. While he rarely compromises (ie. his morals, his methods), he genuinely likes people and tries to work for their benefit. Being magically-gifted means, to him, that he has a responsibility to do what he can for those who are in need, or are unable, to accomplish certain things: like finding something, or if in need of advice. He is far from stupid, though likened to a "magical thug" often enough, due to his raw power and heavy handed tactics. Harry is intelligent, inquisitive and just plain doesn't give up, despite the potential pain-and-death part, until he has accomplished what he set out to do.
He's not psychologically healthy, but he "manages" the best he can with the tools he's learned to use. This is why Harry can be considered a character that operates on two levels: his surface (toting traits such as responsibility, humor, compassion and determination) and his substance (wherein lay the things he doesn't speak of: betrayal, victimization, and the lies he tells himself). He is an absolutely awful liar otherwise, as he is a man made up of physical tells and body language that reads like an open book. The only person he lies well to is himself.
Character Plans:
In his eyes, Chicago needs him. He will be arriving in Siren's Pull while a war is raging back at home, and will most likely be restless (perhaps a bit reckless) in attempting to get home, while simultaneously trying not to become beholden to any of the factions, unless what they stand for lines up with his morals. In the interim, as he's looking for an answer to his situation, he'll probably try to set up an investigative service or work odd jobs, as it's what he's good at.
He'll try to keep his head down, but you don't sport a surname like "Dresden" without getting into trouble often.
Eventually, I plan to canon-update him through the three subsequent novels (Changes, Ghost Story and Cold Days) in the series. As of right now, I'm holding off for fear of retconning information.
Appearance/PB: Link.
There are some differences, however: Harry will be arriving to Siren's Pull in a grey t-shirt, worn jeans, black Chuck Taylors and the leather duster mentioned previously. Lee Pace is 6'3", but Harry is written to be closer to 6'9". Unlike Lee Pace, as well, Harry has a scar that passes through his right eye and terminates at the cheekbone, then picks up through his lip. He also wears a glove on his left hand, underneath which is scar tissue from an old burn.
Writing Samples
First Person Sample
Toto, I don't think this is Wrigley Field anymore. I feel like I'm in Siberia because I said I liked the Cubs in the middle of a bunch of Yankees fans. [ Talk about sarcasm to the nth degree, pouring from this guy's mouth like it's second nature. The baseball diamond doesn't look like much from where he's sitting, but it's clean enough and Harry doesn't feel much like moving just yet, not when the vertigo keeps him from so much as twitching his eyes the wrong way. Some member of the greeting committee flitting about in his peripheral vision, talking about darkness and SERO and some other place. AJI? ATI? ATT?
He'd listened long enough to figure out that he had a network. Er, networking capabilities. That's why his mug was, by that point, browsing that network in search of information. ] This is so... [ Now the video feed is upside down because Harry's shaking his NV around as though suddenly entranced by the act of figuring out how it works. He's a scholar, he's got questions. ] Nifty? Handy? Bizarre?
Okay, what's this thing d-- [ and whoops there goes the nv feed entirely how is he going to communicate properly ]
Third Person Sample
The graffiti states, plain and simple: there's always something stronger than you in siren's port. Harry had put his hands to his hips the moment he'd seen it, screwed his brow up and scoffed. A fact of life, immortalized in paint on a wall. There was always a bigger fish, always something bigger and bolder and liable to kick thine ass from wall to wall. He knew it for a fact, because sometimes he'd run a hand over his face and remember there was a scar there - that it still twinged when he smiled, still ached when he remembered the monster that put it there. Cold. Impersonal. For pleasure. There was always something bigger than a breadbox, and it hadn't stopped him yet.
His head was still swimming. A throbbing pulse-pound that makes him squint at the rest of the painted text. Harry was not a stranger to pain, but even he can barely stand after that tumble through dimensions. Wherever he was, his mouth tasted like blood (probably bit his cheek, and after running his tongue along the inside, deemed it so), he'd got dirt up his nose and abrasions on his right palm where he threw his hands out to try and break his ungainly, rough landing.
Teeth worked his mouth over, shredding an already-manged bottom lip as he thought. Leaned back on his heels to contemplate the situation. Point A, this was not Chicago. The skyline was wrong, the feel of the energy flow as he breathed deep and felt it fill his lungs was entirely wrong, it was quiet in all the ways of a sleeping beast and lacked the familiarity of the urban jungle he'd given his heart to. It smelled like decay curled up alongside the walls, roosted like a fat pigeon and promptly died in the gutters. It was nothing like Chicago, and he didn't even know how far he was from his city. Just that there had been a tug about his navel, and the split second between then and there, it was colder than Arctis Tor in the middle of winter (not that he knew what that was like, but he figured it was balls cold and wasn't dressed for the occasion).
"Your concern is touching," he finally quipped back to the graffiti on the wall, since there's just no one else around, and no stopping his mouth once it started moving. It's just part of his person, to write off even a warning like that as needless. Not because he thought himself strong, but because regardless of authority, of power, of threat to his health or sanity -- he's going to butt heads with it. Snark and fire and everything defiant, that's what Siren's Port just Pulled into its midst. Time to see how it coped with the knowledge.
Quick Access Glossary:
[Practitioner] - A general term for anyone who manipulates and uses magic.
[Wizard] - A type of practitioner akin to the heavyweight class in boxing; they are generally invited (or forcibly inducted) into a private, conservative group so that an eye may be kept on them for abuse of power, or to utilize their talents for the common good.
[White Council] - The private, conservative group that was previously mentioned. The Council serves as a governing body, and is made up of "the Merlin" (head of the entire group), the Senior Council (the eldest or most skilled wizards) and the rest of the enclave.
[Warden] - The military force of the White Council, Wardens serve as the might, and often as the executioners of the White Council's will.
[ETC.]