#(i'm sorry i like enj too much to ship him)

[theriverpointace]

1, 6 and 12 for that choose violence ask game ;)

1. the character everyone gets wrong. if i hear one more person blame paris for the trojan war i cannot be held responsible for my actions. admittedly this has gotten better since i started (a) reading more and (b) interacting with the (very few) paris-lovers of tumblr <3

6. which ship fans are the most annoying? mmm that's tough. and also colored by my aromantic way of reading old literature. i really don't like enjoltaire (from les mis). i don't understand why it's so popular. but everyone else loves it!!! so much!!! please help me. (also i read enjolras as aroace bc I'M aroace, so. there is that, too. tbh i think this one's on me but still.)

12. the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them. my friend do you even have to ask???? you KNOW the answer to this!!! it's paris of troy ofc it's paris of mother-flipping troy. and as to why ... listen if you can read paris in anything (except for frigging DICTYS u g h) and not see how silly and dumb he is ... then i am so sorry (i am choosing violence) but you must be blind!! he's just a guy!!!! he keeps getting put in Situations!! and through all of these Situations he either stays bright and cheerful and positive (like when hector insults him in the iliad) or he starts crying (like in ovid's version of the judgement in heroides 16). like that's so relatable. anyways i like how this one connects to the first one. he is unpopular bc everyone gets him wrong. listen i love hector as much as the next guy here but he is Mean To His Siblings okay. he loves his family, he would (did) die for andromache and scamandrius, but he is a Mean Brother. personally this does not detract from his charm bc i am a Mean Sister so yk. i can relate. and also i think he probably doesn't understand (or like) the reasons paris has to do anything he does. but paris does have his reasons and unlike hector i DO understand and like and appreciate those reasons. please people i love paris so much he does not deserve the hate.

[the-siren-saga]

Moirah’s Quest

The ship was quiet as it neared the unmapped subrealm of Altamir'zin. The only sound was the soft mechanical whirring and beeping of the ship's various systems, working hour after hour to keep the crew alive and moving.

"Uvall," Moirah said softly, resting her hand on her assistant's shoulder in an attempt to put the nervous man at ease. "Are we nearly there?"

"Yes, ma'am," the wiry and somewhat high-strung Dekn answered. He hated how easily he seemed to slip into his old timid, servile persona, especially with the great pains that Moirah had taken to make sure he knew it was unnecessary since he'd come into her employ.

"You can just call me Moirah, you know."

Uvall chuckled lightly, though it was more for her benefit than his own. He didn't like seeming traumatized in a way that could be seen as inconvenient. "Ha, yeah, old habits. Sorry 'bout that," he laughed, in a rather forced manner. "But, yeah, we're getting close. I used the codes Lysandra gave us to hack the IFF so the border system thinks we're a Purple Rose ship."

Moirah smiled brightly and patted her assistant on the shoulder. "You're a fucking genius, Uvall. Great work." He really had made a lot of progress since they’d started working together. Moirah was never one for mentorship, but when she met Uvall, she felt there was no other choice. So, she started teaching him her trade– security, diplomacy, information dealing, and infiltration– and found that he excelled in it.

"Hey, we're almost there," Uvall said after a while, before picking up the mic. "Purple Rose vessel 87724 requesting clearance for entry."

A muffled voice came through the other side. "Glory to the Faithful, for we shall ensure His Ascension."

Uvall looked back at Moirah, who flashed him a sympathetic, concerned look. Do I have to? he asked her through their mental link.

Yeah, Moirah replied. I'm sorry, I know it hurts.

Uvall swallowed his pride, giving the countersign. "Glory to the God-Emperor, for by His Ascension shall our faith be rewarded." To his credit, the immense revulsion he had at that phrase didn't really show in his voice.

"Welcome, my brother in service. What's your destination?" the guard asked.

Uvall cringed, but pushed forward, his resolve stronger than steel. "I have a lowly piece of heretical scum with me who requires purification by the Twenty-Second Sacrament."

"Name and division?"

Uvall had been prepared for this, and slipped a new name into the registry. "Jessamine Thallios," he answered immediately. "Of the Samael'evri encampment."

The guard laughed at this. "All the way out there? Well, shit. No wonder she was tempted to heresy so easily."

They have no idea, Moirah transmitted to her assistant. She had changed into a simple white dress and put a glamour on herself, so that to most who saw her, she would appear much younger and less threatening. "Here, dope me," she said matter-of-factly once the radio was off, handing Uvall a vial and a syringe.

"...You sure about this?"

"As sure as I've ever been of anything," Moirah answered in the same brisk tones. "Just do it before they figure out we're up to something."

Uvall performed the injection with the unflinching proficiency of a practiced medic, catching Moirah as the drug began to take effect and bringing her to rest on a gurney that they'd wheeled onto the ship for precisely this purpose. The drug in the syringe was a formula that Moirah had stolen from one of Andras's facilities a long time ago, capable of inducing what looked like a deep sleep while preserving all higher brain function and psionic abilities.

From this point until he woke her up, he would be on his own.

"87724, hang tight, we're bringing you in for processing."

Within a few minutes, Uvall had wheeled Moirah into an expansive brutalist monstrosity of a compound. Processing, as the guard had called it, was a long and grueling series of questions meant to gauge the nature and severity of "Jessamine's" crimes. After what seemed like hours, the session was, mercifully, over. "Through this door," the interrogator said, "then down that hallway until you see a blue metal door with a sign that says CR 1–25. Those are the conditioning rooms. Take her into room ten. Our Eternal Master is here at the facility today, so He will take it from there."

He's here?! Uvall thought to himself, taking refuge in Moirah's shield to avoid anyone else overhearing. "Thank you. Elucidis be praised," he said by way of greeting, bowing his head respectfully. If the interrogator returned the greeting, Uvall didn't stop to acknowledge it.

On the way to the conditioning rooms, Uvall began to get a massive, pounding headache, intercut with moments that seemed to be seen through another's eyes, and cast in a strange, purple light...

"You are a disgrace to me, Malistrade," Marchosias sneered, striking his Consort across the face. "You knew about the treachery of Lysandra Myrrine, her little ‘Random Element’ scheme, and you did nothing to prevent the HARM THAT HER ACTIONS WOULD CAUSE."

Malistrade staggered backward, gripping a table to balance himself. "Master, I… I never intended to aid her by my inaction, there were so many possible futures surrounding the Irinith child's escape that I–"

"Don't try to explain yourself. Your gift belongs to me, just like the rest of you, and you've betrayed me by keeping your visions a secret."

Uvall stopped in the middle of the hallway, nearly doubling over from how clearly he saw and felt everything in that vision. Was that retrocognition, or was Malistrade actually here? Suddenly, he felt very small. Usually, when he saw through the eyes of one of the others in his triad, he could count on Moirah to reassure and comfort him. He could count on her to be there for him until it passed and to remind him to take care of himself while it was happening.

He brushed a strand of hair out of Moirah's face as they neared CR 10. Not much longer now, he transmitted, knowing she could still hear him through the effects of the sedative.

The door to Conditioning Room 10 opened automatically as Uvall entered with Moirah, and immediately, he felt the intensely blissful presence of Marchosias Aversen. Malistrade, who was standing at attention against the back wall, locked eyes with Uvall, and an unspoken contract formed between the two. We protect each other. We have no other choice.

Marchosias, much friendlier and more affable than he'd been in Uvall's vision, stepped forward to greet him. "It's great to see you. I must admit, I don't make it out to Samael'evri very often, but it pleases me to know that even so far from me, there are those of you who keep the faith." He put one hand on Uvall's shoulder, pulling him slightly closer. "Malistrade, guard the door. I don't want anyone walking in on us."

"As you command," Malistrade answered promptly, moving to exit the room and stand guard.

"Now that we're alone– well, alone with the exception of the sedated heretic you've brought me– I think you and I should have a talk."

Uvall scanned the room for things he could use to his advantage. Marchosias's back was turned to Moirah, that was good. He slipped his hand in his pocket, and found the device that Moirah had given him– a device that, when activated, would tell the bracelet around her wrist to produce an electric shock that would wake her from her chemically induced sleep. Not yet, he thought to himself. Soon, but not yet. "Yes, my God-Emperor. Anything you wish."

Marchosias smiled wickedly and looked deep into Uvall's eyes, causing him to reflexively look down. "You know, I very rarely have problems with my Consort. I've trained him well, and his behavior is, most of the time, exemplary. But today, since you've shown up, he seems to have picked up a bit of a rebellious streak." Caressing Uvall's shoulder, he lowered his voice, slipping into a hypnotic baritone. "Now, I wonder why it is that a farm boy from Samael'evri could have that effect on him. Tell me who you are, I want the satisfaction of hearing you say it in your own voice."

"I'm… I'm Ezra Thallios. Jessamine's my sister. If you'll double check the membership manifest, you'll see both our names listed…"

He could feel himself succumbing. The power was too strong– if he kept fighting it, he'd end up like Shanna, with no more strength to resist.

"Nonsense. There is no Jessamine and Ezra Thallios. You are Uvall Candon, and that woman's name is Moirah Averil." Marchosias paused for a moment. "Which means that you brought Moirah Averil right to me. Asleep." He turned to Moirah, cupping her cheek with his hand. "What a prize you've brought me, Uvall. I knew that I could turn that… connection my Consort seems to have with you to my advantage."

"It was easy," Uvall said, thanking the Hethe for making him such a good actor. "She was willing to walk right into the belly of the beast as long as there was even a chance of finding the Herald again."

"She'll do much better in my service. As will you, Uvall. You, and Malistrade, and that unfortunate test subject of Andras's… think of the endless possibilities," Marchosias purred, turning back to Uvall, his voice becoming hypnotic once again. "Say you'll be mine. Say that I own you, that you can't get enough of me, that you long to please me."

"I… I belong to…" It was so easy to fall into this. It felt so nice.

Another vision of another room in another facility much like this. Marchosias whispering into Shanna's ear. "You can walk away from this free and safe, as long as you just… let… go."

"I'm the apprentice of Moirah Averil, and I sure as fuck don't belong to you," he said, activating the device.

Moirah jolted awake and gripped the back of Marchosias's neck before he knew what was happening. Using the same bracelet that had woken her up, she delivered a shock powerful enough to paralyze him, sending him crumpling to the ground. "You… you treacherous…"

"It's not going to work, Marchosias. You know what I can do." Moirah kicked him in the stomach, enjoying the way he was unable to defend himself. "I'd wager that I'm one of only three people in the Lathrym you've ever been scared of."

Marchosias hissed in pain. "I'm not scared of–"

"You're scared of consequences. You're scared of the things you can't break, the things you can't control. You are terrified of random elements, and regardless of anyone else's claims to the title? I'm the most unpredictable of them all. And I bet that just makes you wake up in a cold sweat, doesn't it." She kicked him again, snickering quietly as he cried out. "This is nothing compared to the pain you've inflicted upon others, Marchosias. Nothing. Caris Euphrasia, Laurien Adaire, Timothée Solal, Penperin Ilsenthe, Idele Serrion… Shanna Averil."

"I gave Shanna Averil everything," he spat. "You have no right to take her from me."

She bent down, taking Marchosias's ceremonial dagger from its sheath and holding it to his neck. "Tell me where she is, or I will kill you where you lie."

It's not his time yet, Moirah, Uvall spoke into her mind. Malistrade showed me what must come to pass. There's no way it'll be this easy.

It's not like he knows that, Moirah transmitted in return.

"You think I'd tell you, Moirah? You haven't been very nice to me," Marchosias teased with a confident smirk.

She drew the dagger across his neck, enough to draw blood while not doing any serious damage. "Don't test me," she hissed. "I have suffered too much and lost too many to care if I hurt you now."

"Room six," he said, his expression revealing not a trace of fear or worry over the predicament. "But if you think this is over, you're severely–"

"I've heard enough." Dropping the dagger, she charged the bracelet and grabbed the back of his neck again, this time hitting him with enough of a charge to knock the Dekn Master out for at least a few hours. "Dear God of Beetles, I can still feel his hand on my– Where's Shanna?" she asked. "I don't trust a word out of his mouth, I need to be certain."

"Room six, I made sure. Get his keycard." After the brief moment it took for Moirah to get the keycard, and Uvall to switch off the cameras in the hallway and erase the footage from CR 10, the two of them left the room. "If he asks, I incapacitated you," Uvall said casually to Malistrade before heading to room six. Malistrade said nothing in return, but could be seen to smile a bit in pride, despite himself.

***

Gripping the sides of her cot and quietly crying, Shanna Averil looked like a completely different person than she was when Moirah last saw her. "...Aunt Moirah?" she asked weakly, looking up to see Moirah and Uvall enter the room.

Moirah stepped closer, expanding her shield to envelop the other woman and nullify her ability. "Yes, Shanna, it's me. I'm here," she whispered, helping her off of the cot. "I've got you, don't worry. We're going home now."

"Back to Ersis?" she asked, clinging to her rescuer for dear life.

"Back with me."

Moirah and Shanna Averil had both been through so much pain, so much sorrow, just to get to this point, but it was okay. They had each other now, they were a family again. And nothing could change that.