#I kin Constance A LOT

[littlemisscreator]

Constance Blackwood is my everything. If everyone keeps glossing over her, I'll just have to keep her to myself/hj.

[saltysaltdog]

Narinder and his relationship to the bishops. What caused their falling out?

The game tells you everything you need to know... (Spoiler, it was Leshy)

"Hapless Leshy" is how Haro describes them. And that just means he's very unlucky, unfortunate... doomed.

Leshy is the youngest god, the god of Chaos and flux. For a lot of people when they imagine Chaos, they think of something ever changing, a sensory overload that's never consistent and with no repeating patterns. Constant change.

Notably, Narinder doesn't have anything bad to say about him. His dialogue is limited to one line. "Leshy fell before you like a grain of sand before a tidal wave." Considering how verbose Narinder usually is this should strike you as odd. He comments about how happy he is with seeing the others fall, but not Leshy. He even holds himself in check if you do something that really upsets him, like sell out Ratau (cough cough) but he can't bring himself to demean leshy in the same way, nor celebrate at all.

He should be a natural ally to Narinder, who wanted change. And yet he's not.

"He was unalike the rest of his kin. While others dealt with flux; chaos, famine, pestilence, war. Things in which their constancy must transpose. And yet he was the inevitable; the obstinate and irresistible. The one who waits. Truly peculiar, 'twould then seem, has appetency to invite the novel and the new, break ancient vow and primordial bond alike. Traditions stagnate and appetites augment, nonetheless. Doubt tears faith asunder."

Switching between two states: change, is the natural order of things, Leshy should be inviting chaos, causing it... And there lies the problem.

Bonds of familial duty, turned instead to chains. Most voracious of appetites, curbed and contained. Most infectious of ideas cut off and cauterised before given chance to rot and spread. Cruel, verily. Alas, what other recourse was given? How does one kill Death? ... Alas. One cannot."

The final lines imply that they sacrificed their power, their growth, to stop Narinder, but what if it wasn't him they were doing it for?

Hear me out. Leshy is the youngest and the weakest, it could be that his powers couldn't handle the rate at which things were changing. If so, then he would only be an obstacle to Narinder. At first it would be fine, but if Leshy didn't get better, if the bishops couldn't cause meaningful change, new things, if change itself was making him sick and "Doubt tears faith asunder": wouldn't it be the one to "break ancient vow and primordial bond alike" be first in line for having the blame cast on them?

We don't have a clear idea on what shenainigains Narinder was up to, but both he and Shamura tell us one thing he was working on.

"The blame hangs heavy 'round my neck. I introduced him to ideas of change..." ".... Death cannot flow backward."

Bringing the dead back to life.

He praises you for doing so in response to one of his quests on his quest line. But that's not to say it's all he was working on.

--

Hang tight, because this bit is up for interpretation:

These guys.

Cute mushroom guys that infect you and try to turn you into a mushroom too, and once you die you can be replanted, again and again and again and again and a- its basically immortality!

They live in Narinder's domain, and yet they are Menticide Mushrooms from Anura given a follower form. They are unnatural, and fiercely hunted when they visit there, so they are not endemic to the area. If Narinder was playing with Nature's laws, turning mushrooms into people, or people into mushrooms, then what's to say he wasn't trying it on anything else?

Like say maybe... plants?

Yes.

Now technically a lot of enemies you fight have plant like features, so many in fact that it's like they were mass produced, existing everywhere except the silk cradle: Shamura's domain of war.

Now these plant creatures fight for the bishops, but that's not to say they are natural. We get normal frogs, insects, fish, etc, but we only get these plant-like worm followers after Leshy turns them into plant like creatures. I don't believe you can randomly happen across them. Perhaps these constructs were originally developed to ensure protection of his siblings, something to prevent them from wasting followers on defending their realms from weaker gods. Or launching assaults. After all, don't many people have a primordial bond to the land they grew up on? Having your favourite tree attack you would suck.

While maybe not a direct result of Narinder, although I wouldn't put it past him to look at a worm and crown and go "oh this'll be funny", I think it's possible that no other plant creature developed consciousness, that Leshy is special, unique, alone.

Perhaps everyone had different ideas on how to help him.

It's up to personal preference the order of events and the degree of sentience the plant enemies have, and thus the mental age of leshy when he became a god, but I'm inclined to think that Narinder still considers Leshy his baby brother, one who would be spared if he could.

(He also made the undead enemies you fight but that's probably obvious.)

But this is all speculation, entities like the gold loving tree exist, so there could be old entities that are plant based kicking around. And the mushrooms could just be from the giant dead god skull being a god of decay. It's hard to know for sure.

It'd be so funny if we could plant that mushroom and grow a giant god. Unlikely though.

-

So Leshy's existence is unprecedented, Chaos itself to many who see him. But why doesn't chaos help him? Narinder speaks about the "unordered beauty of his realm..." and his attack patterns are technically random, but most Bishops speak on their domain a lot.

Leshy doesnt.

"Winds of change blow; dost thou sense it? Around us, the world creaks and turns. Afore, it stood immobile. Motionless centuries grow rust. Now leshy has fallen..."

His domain was stagnant. Leshy is concerned with Narinder being a heretic, and thus you, because your rituals don't align with the old faith's practices. But since those "traditions stagnate", it makes sense why he is the least revered among his siblings, his grasp on the order, what those rituals are supposed to bring, isn't that good. He's probably just doing them because he's supposed to without understanding the greater purpose of them.

"The worm, it is hungry. It feeds. It partakes of our flesh. But that is the price for safety. For that we gladly give it all we have."

His average followers don't even use his name, or maybe they aren't really his followers at all? It's hard to know for sure.

"I recall Leshy. Prior to yourself, he was the last to bargain with me. Adept as he was, he rose quickly to the challenges of Godhood, aided by his siblings. Many were drawn to his chaotic ways"

He was helped out a lot by his siblings, likely to the point he would have died if he was alone.

do Narinder's siblings really think Narinder could have attempted to kill leshy after being perhaps monumental in causing his existence?

Part 2: yep.

Narinder says that Shamura "could never handle the multitudes of a being such as I" (paraphrased. I'm lazy.) Which we are to take as a statement on what he wanted to attempt with his power. With the sins of the flesh update however it might not be that simple.

Sup you slithery bastard.

What's key here is listening to how the other bishops talk about Narinder. Leshy refers to him as a heretic, Heket as a monster they chained below, Shamura as a brother and Narinder.

They used the term red crown for him, but with the notion of it's own independence Kallamar becomes the most relevant.

Kallamar: "Shamura, the Red Crown grows stronger by the day. Already it has succeeded where he has failed before. Leshy has been slain!"

There's a collective understanding of who "he" is. Narinder. But it is interesting that Kallamar never directly uses the term to refer to Narinder, only using pronouns. Isn't the vessel's success Narinder's success? This makes it sound like the red crown is an entity of its own, succeeding where Narinder failed, at least in Kallamar's mind.

It should be noted that Kallamar doesn't refer to you as the red crown during the events of the game. You are the vessel of it. Then when he needs to insult you, critter, beast. Then as a final plea, lamb. Before that however, after he figures out you arent leaving he tries to bargin with the crown directly.

It seems you cannot be stopped by disease or hunger. And he sends you back from death stronger each time. Please know, it was not my idea to cast out the Red Crown! The other Bishops, my siblings, the blame lies with them. Please, I beg you, spare me. Kill Shamura, but do not send me to my death. Do not send me to him!

Then finally, in post game, likely before seeing Kallamar again, when you have gathered enough sin the seller will ask you:

"I have dealt with Gods, and often pondered; does the Bearer wear the Crown, Or the Crown the Bearer?"

"Stay back! Stay away! Mercy, Red Crown, mercy..."

Of course once you have him as s follower and he realises you are not walking puppet for damnation personified he chills out.

According to the seller "Foolish though he may have seemed, he wielded the power of his Crown without discrimination." Meaning Kallamar might have the most experience with how screwy the crown may be on the minds of followers, and potentially gods if Chemach is anything to go by.

In this sense Kallamar might be the only one who believes Narinder to be innocent- in the sense that he was not in his right mind when he did whatever it was that made the bishops think he was trying to kill leshy- imagining him to be under some kind hypnosis, unable to tell friend from foe. So he always separates the two just in case. That being said, the need to imprison him for was probably encouraged by him.

Of course this all relies on the "he" mentioned being Narinder and not like Ratau or something. Kallamar does know him by name, weirdly enough. "Your friend Ratau was the last vessel sent against us," which begs the much funnier question that how does he know his name? Did they talk? Did Ratau just scream an introduction before every fight? Presumably that was decades ago Kallamar how do you even remember?

Not the worst ship I've seen.

All fun aside, some of Heket's lines can also be interpreted this way.

Heket: "So it is true. The Red Crown sits upon the brow of another."

"The Bishops… my family. Have they not suffered enough? Have I not suffered enough? We fought, pathetic vessel. We bled. We grieved. And yet the Red Crown wants more. No more."

"Pathetic, sniveling, vile puppet to the Red Crown. You have felled the youngest of us. We are the Bishops of the Old Faith. We protect against heresies such as yours. /....We will not tolerate such blasphemy. Your sins are many, and for that y... "

"You there, vessel of the Red Crown! Bow to me, or you will regret it!"

"It was not so long ago that we cast out the Red Crown. A mere thousand or so years. The heresy it preached could not be tolerated. Such noxious ideals... it could not be allowed. For this most damning of sins_"

The mention of sins and heresy is interesting because more less or we just got here. There's the idea that the crown itself is heretical, perhaps not just as a symbol. Since you know, it tells us to gather sin. But of course, in typical play you have murdered her followers in at least four crusades against Leshy then her so, plenty of heresy and sin there.

Theres no much we can gleam about Narinder's actions, but her dialogue suggests her battle with Narinder stemmed from what he wanted to accomplish/his vision for the future, rather than any attempts on Leshy's life- at least not directly- and considering Narinder says "Heket's words were more toxic and foul than the mushrooms that grew in her domain." I think they may have fought over policy and doctrine a lot. After all, nothing would be so wounding to Narinder than himself to be wrong and someone else to be right.

He calls her "arrogant" but Haro called her "temperamental". The two may not conflict, since haro also says she's "afeared by none" which is to say scared by nothing, not that in her rule nobody was scared of her. The seller calls her "vicious" and a "wicked beast", but also amusing in a way, which I'm more inclined to believe is him saying she was annoyingly persistent in trying to get past him into his portal thing than any form of true disdain. Then again she might have just eaten the god tears to see what they do instead of trading them. So many fun possibilities.

That being said, how do we reconcile Kallamar's belief that Narinder tried to kill Leshy with Heket's main complaint being his ideas?

Shamura.

Part 3: the tl;dr.

Shamura introduced Narinder to change, but according to Haro this should have been something he already knew from being around his siblings since their domains "transpose". Famine: feed. Plague: cure. War: peace. Chaos: order. So this has to be something different.

Shamura's domain used to be knowledge but now she is known for war. Her aspect changed, and it's likely this is what she means.

Narinder wanted to change Leshy's aspect. It would solve all his problems, allowing his other siblings to experiment instead of just stamping out anything new. Once he was set on his course Shamura couldn't stop him.

If leshy was already struggling and tried listening to Narinder and changing how everyone saw him, already having issues with cult management, this could have killed him. A god is nothing without followers. If Narinder started his plan without letting Leshy know, it definitely could have killed him.

The plan would require everyone's cooperation to work, rituals rewritten and spreading word of the change fast enough to keep it from being changed back. Shamura would have argued against it, noting issues that if brushed off by nari would set off Heket and they'd argue viciously, probably about Narinder's character and how callous ignoring the risks are. If Kallamar was put on the spot, already being a cowardly person he wouldn't be of any help. And the fight would continue.

It's possible leshy would have tried it just to stop his siblings, and done catastrophic damage to himself. After all, he's the only one who is said to eat the sacrifices directly. It's possible whatever happened forced him to need to eat food, something the gods usually don't bother with.

This would have cemented his belief in the rules as they are now, instead of however lax he may have been before. He may have liked the mushroomos or learning to make plant people before then and might have been the only one who was interested in what Narinder was doing and not trying to stop it.

You may think yourself righteous in your service to HIM. But you should not be so trusting of the Chained One.

He's the only one to comment on how your quest could be perceived as the right thing to do. He's been there himself and suffered for it.

Even so, Camellia still grows in the dark woods. They are the flowers that grow around any red crown rooms you may find, making them explicitly tied to Narinder.

And with Narinder's inability to celebrate his demise....

They couldn't quite bring themselves to hate the other.

[sweetface-the-dollbaby]

I kin the entirety of the saint Cassian choir

Ricky - horrible non-accommodating family

Noel - ✨gAy✨ theatre kid, as well as I hate the shitty small town I live in

Ocean - I often have an over-inflated sense of self and think I’m better than a lot of people (that’s a personality disorder of some kind I’m pretty sure)

Constance - I apologize too much

Mischa - my bad-boy persona is just a front for my inner sad child (I would also kill and die for my long distance partner)

Jane Doe - I’m often forgotten/overlooked by my irl friend group and I’m weird as shit

[hellonoblesky]

hi dovie im writing that fanfic where albatross sneaks into soukokus bed. i need to know what his terrors would be about (im giving you a "PLEASE GIVE ME A CHARACTER ANALYSIS IM BEGGING YOU" look rn btw)

LOVe. LOVELOVE LVOE PEACE AND LOVE MWAH MWAH

SO. So. In the Trainwreck Trio au Albatross is the sole survivor of Verlaine's killing of the Flags, yeah? So he has nightmares n stuff from That alongside survivor's guilt, and a feeling of inadequacy because he couldn't save Doc who was the one person he really did think he saved there, and also bc they teased him for not being very smart all the time so he's like "AUGH why do I get to survive but all the smarter people died?? I'm not worth this, god DAMMIT" <- Which feeds into his nightmares and terrors, really sending him into a silly doom spiral of The Horrors

BUT ALSO the only reason Albatross even SURVIVES Verlaine's onslaught is that in this au Wollstonecraft was on standby for repairs for Adam, so Adam calls her and is like "HEY I THINK VERLAINE JSUT FUCKING MAIMED ALL OF CHUUYAS FRIENDS GO?? CHECK ON THEM PLEASE AND THANK YOU" so she goes in there with a team and they re-stabilize Albatross literally by having to move the majority of his organs and internal functioning system into a metal vessel and then working circutry and robotics through him so he's functional enough to pass as a normal person (given that no one pays attention to or makes contact to any part of him lower than his chest because it is Metal you knock on that man's stomach you hear Clanging)

^ This is important because alongside the Terrors and Horrors of watching pretty much his entire found family get torn apart right in front of him, Albatross begins a spiral into a state of questioning his personal humanity, the thought of "I should be dead I should be dead I'm not dead because of these machines in me I'm part of a machine now am I a Person anymore??"

Which feeds into a self-isolation that was originally fueled by his survivor's guilt and probably PTSD, because now he's like "Oh. oh those are normal people I don't think i. i deserve that. ok. hm. ok i'm leaving now."

AND TO HIM. TO HIM?? CHUUYA AND DAZAI BOTH FALL UNDER THE CATEGORY OF HUMAN. HE LOOKS AT THEM AND HE'S LIKE "Yeah... there they are,,, just normal guys..... not exactly the normallest of guys but they're more people than I am i think,,"

So, you remember that one post about dead albatross symbolysm? The kin awakening one? Yeah so the frantic sobbing-so-hard-he-can't-breath breakdown I mentioned he probably had at the end of that? That's like, within the AU timeline, so it's like

>SB Events >The Horrors (Self-Isolation Version) >Breakdown/Tipping Point (Catalyst for him being able to Begin to return to regularly interacting with people, starting w Chuuya) >The Horrors Pt2 (Adjusting to everything) <- This is the stage where the drawing I did takes place in! He's too unstable to just be able to Ask to stay over but he figures if he can Sneak in then it's fine >Dark Era (He's a lot better at this point but also he has an episode about Dazai leaving because Losing People Doesn't Go Over Well With Him) >Current day (Epic Gamer moment)

ANYWAY so the Terrors and Horrors you want to go for for ur fic are probably feelings of like. Feeling lost and struggling to find closeness but also being so close and Needing that closeness to someone, an unhealthy dose of anxiety but specifically the anxiety you feel when it's mixed with depression so it's anxiety but somehow?? Slower. Like it's definitely Anxiety but mixing it with Depression made it's constancy thicker so it's less a "fidget nervous gotta run gotta go fear fear fear" feeling and more of a "the swamp is swallowing me and the branch is just out of reach but if i can just move a little to the side here jsut a little", if that ??? Makes sense??

TL:DR: Survivor's guilt and a feeling of displacement. Horrors and terrors of the Depression stage of grief mixed with Anxiety

AND if you have other questions I can answer them :)!!!!!!!<333

[scriptflorist]

Character Template

Name: Xuesong

Nickname: A'Song

Alternate identity: n/a

Birthday: (never really thought about it)

Zodiac: -

Birthplace: a non-Earth fantasy land with Chinese inspirations

Dwelling place: the palace 

How do they live: He’s with the elder prince most of the time, since he works for him. He’s a bodyguard of sorts, but also runs errands. His “bedroom” is actually a sectioned off part of a hallway shared with several others.

Appearance: Tall, with long wavy black hair that’s partially braided and tied back with a silk ribbon, blue-green like his upturned eyes. The backs of his pointed ears are covered with brown fur, and he has a pair of brown antlers. He usually wears a navy and gray uniform, with the royal emblem embroidered on the chest, as well as black boots. 

What’s in their bag/pockets: He’s got a small bag with some coins in it. 

Species: Wood spirit

Features of the species: Appears human, but with antlers, deer ears, and monochrome eyes in shades of blue or green.

Name of parents: He was created by a group of mages.

Name of siblings: n/a

Others next of kin: n/a

Not-in-blood-but-in-bond-family: Yunshan, a younger wood spirit, whom he considers like a brother.

Family history: After he was created, he was sent to the palace and handed over to the elder prince as a magical study/training partner and playmate. He was trained “on the go”, facing some punishments at first, but he’s a quick learner. Over time, he and the young prince start seeing each other as friends (and later, romantic partners). Yunshan arrived about two years later, to serve the younger prince, and Xuesong was the one who showed him the ropes. 

Favourite colour: His magic is sort of turquoise so he’s biased to that, but he also likes orange.

Favourite animal: Not one, but he likes birds, especially little ones.

Favourite book: none

Favourite film/show/series: n/a

Favourite genre: probably adventure, he likes listening to those kinds of stories when he has the chance

Favourite food: a kind of drink/soup (it’s served in bowls and eaten with spoons) made with local berries, also egg stir fried with assorted veggies.

Favourite place to be: The palace garden, which he’s allowed in because his magic can vitalize the plants. It attracts various insects and the birds he’s fond of. 

Personality: He’s quite a friendly and kind person, who doesn’t have a lot of power but would try to help in any way he can, or at least lend a listening ear. However, he does get upset if he feels his efforts aren’t appreciated enough, though he does try to hide this out of politeness. He’s responsible in his work and is rarely, if ever, late. His ever-smiling disposition sometimes causes people to think him silly, but he’s actually quite aware of the goings-on around him, and clever enough to use that knowledge if it could aid the people he cares about. He’s not good at making very good decisions under pressure though.

Misc: He gets mindwiped for his illicit relationship with the elder prince. After the prince embarks on a journey to find the legendary cure, his memories and personality return to normal, but he has some trauma symptoms from the ritual.

________________________________________________________________

Hey there stranger,

Haven’t gotten one of these in a while, let’s see what we can do for your character. Hope you find something useful in here!

Birthplace: a non-Earth fantasy land with Chinese inspirations

chinese flower language tag

 He's with the elder prince most of the time, since he works for him. He's a bodyguard of sorts, but also runs errands.

lily (japanese) – you cannot deceive me

lungwort – you are my life, though art my life

monkshood – knight-errantry, a deadly foe is near

wolfsbane – knight, chivalry, misanthropy

Species: Wood spirit

cedar – spiritual strength, strength, I live for thee, think of me

cherry blossom – spiritual beauty, insincerity, impermanence

geranium (night-smelling) – melancholy spirit

magnolia – love of nature, dignity, nobility, perseverance

sorrel (wood) – joy

southernwood – pain, jest, bantering

sycamore – woodland beauty, curiosity, reserve

wood anemone – sickness, forlornness

wood sorrel – joy, maternal tenderness

woodbine – fraternal love, affection

wormwood – absence, do not be discouraged

 black hair

black bryony – support, be my support

blackberry – envy

ebony – blackness

laburnum – blackness, forsaken, pensive beauty

mulberry (black) – I shall not survive you

poplar (black) – courage

 Name of parents: He was created by a group of mages.

angelica – magic, inspiration

fern – magic, fascination, sincerity, confidence, shelter

 Not-in-blood-but-in-bond-family: Yunshan, a younger wood spirit, whom he considers like a brother.

syringa – fraternal love, fraternal regard, memory

verbena (pink) – family union

woodbine – fraternal love, affection

 He was trained "on the go", facing some punishments at first, but he's a quick learner.

marigold – cruelty, grief, inquietude, trouble, chagrin, pretty love, sacred affection, caress, sorrow

nettle – cruelty, slander, you are spiteful

tiger-flower – cruelty, for once may pride befriend me

 Over time, he and the young prince start seeing each other as friends (and later, romantic partners).

acacia – friendship, platonic love, secret love

acacia (rose) – friendship, elegance

acacia (yellow) – concealed love, secret love

ambrosia – love returned

arbor vitae – unchanging friendship, live for me

chrysanthemum – you’re a wonderful friend, abundance, wealth, cheerfulness, truth, loveliness and cheerfulness

chrysanthemum (red) – I love.

citronella – homosexual love

clove –I have loved you and you have not known it, dignity

daisy (wild) – dost thou love me?, I will think on it

freesia – lasting friendship

geranium – true friend, stupidity, folly

geranium (oak-leaved) – true friendship, lady deign to smile

glycine – your friendship is pleasing and agreeable to me

heliotrope – I love you, the intoxication of love, infatuation, devoted affection, devotion, I turn to thee, intoxicated with pleasure

honeyflower – speak low if you speak love, love sweet and secret, sweet, secret, generous affection, sweetness of disposition

honeysuckle – bonds of love, generous and devoted affection, affection, devotion, fidelity, I would not answer hastily

honeysuckle (wild) –generous and devoted love

ivy – friendship, matrimony, I have found one true heart, constancy, marriage, fidelity, wedded love, affection

japonica – symbol of love, sincerity

jerusalem oak – your love is reciprocated

jonquil – love me, affection returned, desire, sympathy, I desire a return of affection

lilac – first emotion(s) of love, beauty, pride

lilac (purple) – first emotions of love

maidenhair – secret bond of love, discretion

motherwort – concealed love, secret love

rose – love

rose (bridal) – happy love, happiness

rosebud (moss) – confession of love, confession

snowdrop – I am not a summer friend, consolation, hope, refinement

tulip – declaration of love, beautiful eyes, fame, perfect lover

tulip (red) – declaration of love, believe me

windflower – symbol of love, sincerity

zephyr flower – symbol of love, sincerity, expectation, fond caresses

 he also likes orange

lily (orange) – hatred, disdain

mockorange – counterfeit, fraternal affection, deceit

orange blossom – your purity equals your loveliness, chastity, innocence, eternal love, marriage, fruitfulness

orange flowers – chastity, woman’s worth, bridal festivities

orange tree – generosity

rose (orange) – fascination

syringa (mockorange) – fraternal love, fraternal regard, memory

 Favourite animal: Not one, but he likes birds, especially little ones.

venus’ car – fly with me

 Favourite food: a kind of drink/soup (it's served in bowls and eaten with spoons) made with local berries

blackberry – envy

cranberry – hardiness, cure for (the) heartache

gooseberry – anticipation

huckleberry – faith, simply pleasures

mulberry (black) – I shall/will not survive you, devotedness

mulberry (red) – wisdom

mulberry (white) – wisdom, prudence

pidgeon berry – indifference

raspberry – remorse

strawberry – perfection, perfect excellence, perfect goodness

strawberry blossom – foresight

strawberry tree – love and esteem, perseverance

whortleberry – treachery, treason

 Favourite place to be: The palace garden, which he's allowed in because his magic can vitalize the plants.

persimmon – bury me amid nature’s beauties

cosmos – joy in love and life

lucern – life

tree of life – immortality, old age

 kind person, would try to help in any way he can

allspice -- compassion

blue bell – kindness, constancy, sorrowful regret, humility, gratitude

elder flower -- compassion

marsh mallow – kindness, beneficence

 His ever-smiling disposition sometimes causes people to think him silly, but he's actually quite aware of the goings-on around him, and clever enough to use that knowledge if it could aid the people he cares about.

kennedia – intellectual beauty, mental beauty

mignonette – moral and intellectual beauty, your qualities surpass your charms

rose (daily) – thy smile I aspire to

sumach (venice) – intellectual splendour, elegance

sunflower (tall) – smile on me still, haughtiness, pride, false riches, lofty and pure thoughts

sweet william – grant me one smile, gallantry, finesse, childhood, scorn

tulip (yellow) – there’s sunshine in your smile, hopeless love

walnut – intellect, stratagem

 Misc: He gets mindwiped for his illicit relationship with the elder prince. After the prince embarks on a journey to find the legendary cure, his memories and personality return to normal, but he has some trauma symptoms from the ritual.

agrimony – thankfulness, gratitude

anthericum -- antidote

azalea – take care, temperance, fragile, passion, romance, temperance, fragile and ephemeral passion

balm of gilead – cure, relief, I am cured

balsam of peru – cure

bay leaf – I change but in death, I change but in dying

bay (red) – love’s memory

catchfly (white) – I fall into the trap laid for me

cranberry – cure for (the) heartache, hardiness

dahlia – my gratitude exceeds your care, instability, elegance and dignity, forever thine, novelty, dignity

dogwood – love undiminished by adversity, I am perfectly indifferent to you, durability

forget-me-not – true love, forget me not, memories

honeysuckle (coral) – I love you, the colour of my fate

lotus – estranged love, forgetful of the past, eloquence, purity

lotus flower – estranged love

love-lies-bleeding – deserted love, hopeless not heartless, dignity, nobility, perseverance

myrtle – love in absence, love positive, love, joy

periwinkle – pleasing remembrances, sweet remembrance, tender recollections, early recollections, pleasure of memories, sweet memories

periwinkle (blue) – pleasures of memory, sweet remembrance, early friendship

periwinkle (white) – pleasures of memory, pleasing remembrance

pheasant’s eye – remembrance, painful remembrance, sorrowful remembrances

primrose (chinese) – lasting love

privet – unfading love

rose (maiden blush) – if you love me, you will find it/me out

rose (single, full bloom) – I truly love you, simplicity

rosemary – remembrance, your presence revives me, healing balm

scabiosa – unfortunate love, unfortunate attachment, I have lost all

swallow-wort – cure for (the) heartache

syringa – memory, fraternal regard, fraternal love

syringa (carolina) – memory, disappointment

yarrow – to cure, a cure for the heartache, cure for a broken heart, cure for heartache

zinnia (yellow) – daily remembrance

– Mod Jana

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[mor-beck-more-problems]

Lady Lazarus|| Morgan, Deirdre, & Constance

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @deathduty & @mor-beck-more-problems & @constancecunningham

SUMMARY: The time for vengeance is now.

Morgan kept herself draped over Deirdre most of the day, even when they were shuffling between rooms and out to the yard to tend the garden and watch the cats play. Deirdre hadn’t been away for long, but long enough for Morgan to miss the pressure of her banshee’s body cocooned around her own, the feathery impression of her kisses, the sound of her voice and how it curled around her name and all her Gaelic endearments. At night she pulled her into bed and insisted on getting to hold Deirdre for a change, if only for an hour or two. “This, right here, is literally the only gift I really want,” she said, stroking her love’s hair. They were back on the Grey���s Anatomy wagon, although Morgan was more distracted from the story than usual, reaching down to walk her fingers along Deirdre’s freckles and scratch constellations between the ones that dusted her arms. “I missed you,” she said, not for the first time. “Thank you for coming back, my love.”

Outside, Constance watched Agnes’ descendant dote on her lover. She had been held that way too, once. She could remember the way a tender touch could burn, how a gaze could feel searingly bright, powerful enough than all the magic she’d held in her body. And it had all been a lie. Every hope she’d nurtured had been seeded with death, every wish, poisoned with mockery. At least where she had been before this place, she’d dwelled in the certainty that her pain would echo on with just vengeance as any true witch with the power would have willed it. But this new earth, this new Agnes with her flowers, her career,  her friends, her precious love. Constance couldn’t even understand how she had survived the accident in the first place. She’d put her whole soul into it, exhausted herself into a mere wisp of energy in one blast. She had seen the blood and she’d seen the woman’s eyes close. She shouldn’t be here, reaping a life that had been stolen from Constance by her own kin. To look at her cradling the woman in her arms, you wouldn’t even know that she had suffered a day in her life. If it hadn’t been for her warning message and that flash of recognition in a window weeks ago, Constance was sure this new Agnes would have forgotten her as completely as the first Agnes had.

It wasn’t right. Nothing in this world was, but this, especially. She had paid the gods and the universe for better than this and she would not deign to be cheated again.

Constance had been practicing, she’d learned the tricks from older spirits, and now she was strong enough to avenge herself on her own without spending herself in full as before. And perhaps it would have always come out this way. Perhaps her spirits, her magic, would have always forsaken her as surely as everything else she’d touched and loved. Constance felt the bite of her sorrow welling up in her fragile spectre body. Shuddering against the tides of the new world, she reached out with it and pressed against the window glass.

With great clarity, Deirdre could remember every time she was separated from Morgan (all being entirely her doing in the first place), and each time they came back together---an entanglement of limbs, the din of kisses. They hadn’t been so far kept from each other since becoming a couple, and she thought of what great relief it was to share her affection and speak of her love...the awkward fumbling around aside (when did that rug get there? Did they always have that table so close?). The winding down to gentle moments shared in bed were her favorite, if only so she might recover from the day’s bruises running into furniture edges and door corners. And embarrassing as it was, she could bear being held if it was what Morgan wanted---and the woman who might have jumped from her arms hollering about boredom was long gone. This one was only a little flustered, and plagued terribly by the ever surmounting desire to hold Morgan. Deirdre embraced her role of being embraced soon enough and found the great benefit of being able to bury her face against Morgan’s chest. “Grey’s Anatomy is finally focusing on the anatomy aspect, isn’t it?” She grimaced, “ugh, no, I didn’t like that joke either. But it is better than the Morgan’s Anatomy one I tried.” Deirdre laughed, lifting her hand up to tap the old beat of Morgan’s heart---a tune she knew as well as the beat of her own---against her still chest. She might not have been able to love a life back where there ought to be one, but she found optimism that awoke in Morgan’s presence--and she might just imagine there was something more she could do. “I missed you too,” she smiled, “and I told you that you don’t have to thank me for that. There’s no place I’d rather be, no one I’d rather be with. I want you. I want to be here.” She shifted, leaning up to kiss Morgan and untangle herself from being held. “I lov---”

Deirdre snapped up--careful to keep close to Morgan, careful to hold her, even as she stood on alert. She could have sworn she heard glass crack, but the Grey’s Anatomy episode had moved into its scheduled monologue of the moment. Deirdre turned her head, a spine-wrenching chill consuming her body. She turned to Morgan, eyes black as the night beyond them. “I think I feel something here.” But she was having a smidge of trouble finding the source---Morgan’s body was, rightfully, very distracting.

Morgan felt it too, flinching at the sound of glass. The lamp on their end table was so dim, she couldn’t see farther than three feet past the bed, there was only the teal and orange cocoon of the lamp puddling with the TV around them. She squeezed Deirdre, anchoring them together. She’d just gotten her back from Ireland, she wasn’t going to lose her to more White Crest nonsense. Faintly, the glass made another tremulous sound, like it was quivering in the windowpane, struggling to get out. “That’s weird…” she admitted, squinting into the shadows. Then she saw it. Saw her. “No--” There were a lot of expletives on her tongue and twice as many warnings. Get down. It’s not safe. I fucked up. She told me she was coming and I fucked up. But as Morgan breathed the word, reaching to shove Deirdre down into their bed, hell burst into their room.

The TV flickered and groaned like it was going to be sick, the lightbulb in their lamp flared and burst, the windows crunched in on themselves in splattered spiderwebs of invisible pressure, and every piece of furniture Morgan had lovingly arranged rattled, drumming her fate as Constance flew towards them. Morgan launched herself out of bed and gasped as she felt herself caught by the hair on something and pushed. Morgan fell face forward, but in the flash of a moment before she hit the ground, she saw Constance’s grief-warped face go still with a look of horrified wonder that must have matched her own. The ghost’s grip had become solid as bone.

Deirdre knew Constance’s face well; once, it filled nightmares, more often, it was the centre of revenge fantasies. She often wondered what it’d be like to have a moment with the woman, where she’d put her hands when she ruptured her organs---but she was a ghost. She was supposed to be a ghost who couldn’t hurt them. It was strange, then, that her normal vision could track her, and she watched with clarity as the woman demonstrated a physicality that ghosts couldn’t, shouldn’t. She searched her mind for what she was taught of ghosts, and especially the angry ones, while she rifled around for her knives. They could interact with the physical world, couldn’t they? Did it even matter? They needed iron and salt now, answers later. Unfortunately, iron and salt were two things they kept away from the bedroom. “Hey,” Deirdre called out to the ghost, twin daggers spinning in each hand. Ghosts couldn’t be stabbed, or screamed at, and Constance certainly couldn’t be bargained with, but Deirdre was adaptive. Constance wanted Morgan dead; she either did or didn’t know that she succeeded in some regard. She either did or didn’t know that Morgan was a zombie. Soon she’d realize all she needed to do was lift one of Deirdre’s several axes and swords against Morgan’s neck. Deirdre’s plan was simple; if she didn’t know, Deirdre wouldn’t let her figure it out. If she did...well, Deirdre always thought she made a tantalizing distraction. She smirked, doing her best to appear unperturbed by Constance’s presence. “You know, if your whole goal is ‘true suffering’, wouldn’t it make more sense to hit me? Unless being dead for so long has started to wither your mental capacity. It certainly has for your looks.” Deirdre paused, letting her smugness drip across the room. If she wasn’t much of an attractive target now, she hoped she would be soon; the only person who knew where Morgan kept her iron rod was Morgan, and she needed a way to leave. “Oh, right, sorry. You’ve always looked that ugly.”  

Morgan’s head collided with the ground, once on impact, twice when Constance pulled it up and tried to bash it in. Morgan braced herself against the fall, but Constance’s grip was hard enough to worry the nerves on her scalp. But there were much bigger problems than that. “Deirdre, no!” She shrieked, clawing at the carpet, straining to get free. She would not lose her. She would burn down more than just Constance to keep from losing her. Morgan screamed wordlessly. Morgan pulled again, crying, “Run!” as she came free. She crawled to her feet and turned just in time to see Deirdre’s knives slice through the air and sit, harmlessly, in Constance’s neck.

“What the hell are you?” She hissed, backing towards the door.

Constance didn’t seem to know either. She was racing towards the woman one moment and was struck frozen by a queer...what did she even call the feeling? Could a touch have an echo? It was nothing at all, the jolt of surprise and fear had been worse. For an instant she could almost hear the sigh of her existence slipping away, of her justice slipping through her fingers as water through a sieve. But the world remained, as did her chance. And by the fires of the earth and their devilish glory, Constance would take it. “I think you could look more dead,” she said. Emboldened now, she shot out a hand for the woman’s throat and squeezed with all her strength.

“Let her go!” Morgan lifted the nearest piece of furniture and threw it at the ghost as she continued her retreat. “End me if you want it so bad!” The chair bounced harmlessly off the ghost’s new body.

She hadn't expected her daggers to be effective, but she had hoped. Just enough, to be troubled by it. Deirdre watched, stoic, as nothing happened—she drew her knife across with ease, and found Constance's body like clay. No blood. No pain. Nothing but surprise. Deirdre knew better than to dare reveal her hand by showing emotion, but she couldn't stop the frown that tugged at her features. What the hell was she indeed. "I think I already look pretty dead enough—but especially pretty," Deirdre croaked in Constance's grip. She still had her superhuman strength, and clearly some of her ghostly power, but Deirdre struggled to put a name to whatever she had become. She watched their chair splinter and crack against her, without so much as a reaction. Deirdre grinned, as if casually amused by the display---despite the panic that lurched inside of her. Slowly, she lifted her other hand, plunging her knife into Constance's arm and twisting it up, dragging with force, to lift Constance's hand off her neck just enough for her to scream. She knew they never did much for ghosts, but she had hoped, just enough, to be disappointed when Constance didn't collapse. With a hiss, she rolled away and drew her knives back.

"If that's the best you can do, I think I see why Agnes got bored of you." Deirdre massaged her throat; it would bruise. Her eyes searched for Morgan, careful to act as the barrier between her and Constance as she retreated, and Deirdre followed suit. Her face furrowed with worry, something between 'maybe don't ask the ghost that killed you once to do it again' and 'I’m okay; don’t worry about me'. Then again, she was the one goading Constance. "Maybe Agnes just had better taste." But her plan was transparent; an angry ghost made for a poor planner. Though, Deirdre grimaced as her neck throbbed with Constance's echoed grip, they did make for stronger threats. She turned to Morgan and smiled softly, decidedly more level-headed about the ordeal. "Running does sound like a good idea, my love."

“HOW DARE YOU!” Constance was no banshee, but her scream drew sparks from the TV. The color jumped and pixelated, blanching white, Meredith Grey’s voice suddenly dropped, blasting too loud in a growling rumble. The bulbs in the room burst, showering them with glass as Constance scrambled over the bed towards them, more tears streaming down her face, her refrain continuing. “You. Don’t Get. To say her name,” she rasped.

“Seriously?” Morgan’s voice was ragged and shrill. She ran back for Deirdre, hand outstretched for hers. The room rattled around them, turning against them as objects rose from the floor like so many limp corpses and gave away their hiding spaces. Morgan’s hand reached Deirdre’s. There was only panic on her face, nothing bave, nothing clever. I’m scared. I can’t lose you. She pulled, begging the heavens to let Deirdre yield to her this once. She pulled her back and shoved her through the doorway with all her strength. If she crashed into the wall, if she fractured a bone or hit her head, at least she was free. “Salt--!” She cried, gasping as the skin on her back ripped open.

“I shall not be your monster,” Constance said behind her, voice trembling as she struggled to keep control of herself. She had heard the tales from the other ghosts by now, of how her power was hamstrung by her humanity. It was another curse, of a kind. She had to kill this new Agnes without falling prey to the evil her presence woke in her. “I am not. I am only your justice,” Constance whispered, “And your fate.”

So, maybe pissing off the vindictive ghost was a bad idea, but Deirdre didn’t have the chance to assess her strategy; her collectedness died the moment Morgan pushed her away. The panic in her girlfriend’s eyes shocked her, and she followed along only to have her own grow wide with fear. She stumbled to the ground, carpet scrapping her palms. Constance wanted to kill Morgan, that was an irrefutable fact; in some small way, if Deirdre stood between them, she could prevent it. In another, more damning way, she simply wouldn’t, and couldn’t, know if something was going to happen to Morgan. Something permanent. “You were supposed to get the salt.” She whimpered, scrambling to her feet as she watched the torrent of anger unfold behind Morgan. Deirdre knew she should run, but fear rooted her. There would be no scream this time. Deirdre glanced at the stairs, wishing with all of her that she could find the strength to do what was logical. But to turn her back on Morgan, even in service of a solution, was too much to ask of her. She slumped, fluttering between guilt and panic. “I’ve always thought ‘monster’ was an apt name for you,” she hissed at Constance’s ignorance, her bastardized use of Fate’s name, but she had no clever taunt. All her fight had been replaced with concern. If she could just get Morgan gone, or going; if she could just get them downstairs. With her expression, desperation pooling in her eyes, she hoped to tell Morgan that she was sorry. That while it made sense to run away and get salt, she couldn’t. She needed Morgan to come with her, she needed to be by Morgan’s side---she wouldn’t be too late, not again. And that it would be okay, somehow, even if it was strange to try and soothe her nerves now, given the situation. She reached for Morgan’s wrist, and ran.

Morgan begged Deirdre with her eyes. Run, please, just run, please… Of the two of them, she could take the most hits. Constance could care her up like a thanksgiving turkey and she’d still make it to another day. But Deirdre, for all her fae power, only needed a blade through her heart or a hand to crush her throat. Nothing new would sprout from her wounds, she would just be dead and everything around them would be worthless.

Constance stabbed her again and Morgan could almost imagine which of Deirdre’s many knives it was from the way it pricked her stomach. Her body heaved, making a soft sucking sound as Constance drew it out, no doubt dripping with black, dead blood. “What in unholy creation--?” She whispered.

Morgan gripped Deirdre back and ran with her. “That was stupid,” she hissed, voice breaking with tears. “You can get hurt, I can’t! If she gets you--” She pulled ahead, making a dead sprint for the stairs. The house panicked around them, yellow lights strobing and firing sparks, glass shaking, doors rocking on their hinges. The cats, hiding in their room, wailed with fright. Morgan ran faster. As she reached the edge of the steps it all went still. Had Constance gone? Given up when her new attempts at murder went worse than before? Morgan stumbled to a halt, still clutching Deirdre. Did she dare look over her shoulder? Dare stop now? “Please…” She whispered, no longer sure what she was pleading for.

“We are not finished, you and I,” Constance said. How ironic that the moment this new Agnes was in her hands, she should wish for her old spirit’s body back. It would have been nothing to fly over in an instant, or to take her precious stones and candles and throw them deftly until she fell over the stairs and snapped her neck. Like this, she had to walk as mortals did, Walk, and still remember who she was. So many cursed chains around the world, around her. If she had understood that better when she was alive, she might have asked the gods for more. But it was too late for her. She had this one hope alone, to fix the last descendant of Agnes Bachman with all the suffering her magic should have caused and rid the world of that line’s cursed violence without surrendering her soul to that cursed family in the process. “Do you know what you have done?” She asked, walking slowly still. “Do you understand why you must be punished?”

Deirdre's gaze refused to lift from Morgan's injuries; she watched tissue repair itself and thick, dark blood stain her clothing. If Constance didn't know she was a zombie now, she would soon enough. And then what? How much time did they have until she figured out what she needed to do? If they bested her now, what prevented her from finding them later, armed with knowledge? "I don't want you to get hurt!" She shouted back, heaving. Her voice dropped to a croaked whisper, pained and desperate. "What happens when she realizes what you are? When she remembers that 'true suffering' is just her excuse to kill you?" It was clear to Deirdre that Constance's only goal now was ending Morgan; perhaps it had always been her plan. If suffering was her game, there were better ways to do it, more effective methods. Constance had never gone after her while Morgan was alive, and Deirdre knew what that meant, where her motivations must have truly laid. If this went poorly, which it so often did with ghosts, Deirdre could only hope that there was enough of a whiff of kindness inside Constance to kill her too—but there so rarely was. She tried to meet Morgan's eyes to work out a plan between them, but soon Constance cut through the air and the world swelled around them again.

"Oh shut up, you hag." Deirdre hissed, kicking their banister and cracking off one of the wooden spindles to wield as a club. Taking cue from Morgan earlier, she shoved her girlfriend along, towards their kitchen. Their ground-level was open enough that they didn't need to be congested in a hallway or around furniture, but to Deirdre, that simply meant more ways for Constance to slip past her and get at Morgan. "What's her crime? Being born? Being happy?" She twirled her makeshift cudgel in her hands, this time sure to keep herself between Morgan and Constance. "And what's stabbing her got to do with anything? If you claim to know so much about heart-break, shouldn't you know better? I thought you wanted suffering, not acupuncture." Deirdre was, of course, trying to bring Constance's attention on to her again. She could only hope that for a moment, Constance would forget that she wanted to kill Morgan and turn her energy elsewhere. At least, long enough for someone to grab salt or iron.

Morgan shook her head. “That is not the most important thing right now!” She hissed. “We can protect the house, we can do whatever we want after we get her out, but if she kills you--” But there was no time. Constance was encroaching on them. “Deirdre…” She whispered, voice breaking. But somehow, even before Deirdre’s hand shot out, Morgan knew what was going to happen. She pleaded silently, but the world was already tilting backwards. Morgan grabbed the bannister, trying to slow her fall and stop any broken bones from bouncing through her skin. She only succeeded in tearing up the skin along her legs as she skidded down to the first floor landing. She scrambled to the kitchen, sliding on her sweaty feet. Her bag with the iron rod was hanging up in there, and they had a bulk thing of salt. But just in her hearing, Deirdre was tempting her fate, throwing herself at Constance like she didn’t matter. Morgan’s arms shook as she swiped her arm through the cupboards, toppling everything in sight until she got what she needed. “Deirdre, I swear by the fucking stars--!” She couldn’t die. Morgan wouldn’t let her. There would’ve been a scream, she would’ve told her, she would. Morgan had to believe that if she wanted to get the lid off the fucking salt and grab her rod.

Constance kept her control fixed around her soul. “Yes,” she said softly. “I bargained with my gods, we had a bargain, and by my power, the Bachmans agreed to submit to their penance. She slipped through. She cheated. And she must not be allowed to continue. But I may wait for her return before harming you, if you wish. It is a very singular thing, to see your nightmares come true. They’re over so much faster, and so much uglier than what your mind imagines. No ceremony, no explanations.” She came right up to Deirdre, trembling through her forced calm. “You love very strangely,” she said. “Trying to hurt her to save her. Or is that you know, deep down, that it would mean nothing if I crushed you on these stairs. Do you think she would be able to tell the difference if I took you over from inside. Or would she just hold your pretty body and content herself with your husk? Is it really worth it to you, if your love is only lies?”

What was more important than Morgan's life? Her safety or her happiness? It was too late to argue with Morgan now, so Deirdre willed herself to face the sole cause of every inch of pain in Morgan's life. All of it, every dead family member, every flood or car crash, led back to Constance and her curse. "You call that a monologue, hag? You think I don't know what suffering is?" She grinned, laughing at the ghost's face. Constance's words were nothing she hadn't already considered, something she didn't already fear. But Deirdre was born for this exact purpose, to look death and fear and suffering in the eyes and stand steady. Constance's words were nothing she hadn't endured already, in some other way, by someone else. Unlike the humans that feared death, she knew to welcome it. Deirdre tightened her grip on the spindle, maintaining her lopsided smile. "You don't know anything about love, Connie. Can I call you Connie? I'm doing it anyway." Her hand darted out and bundled the collar of Constance's dress under her fist, doing and twisting their bodies until she had the force to shove Constance down the steps. As her body tumbled, she jumped over the rail and landed first to the ground below, meeting her at the last step. "If you want Morgan, you go through me. And you can't hurt me, Connie, not at all. I'm not afraid of death, of suffering, I do it all the time." It was Morgan's that she feared for, and Morgan's alone. If she screamed for herself now, she would welcome it, but never without a fight. As long as she breathed, there was still something to be done.

Morgan was darting out of the kitchen as she heard the bodies hit the floor. “No!” She heaved the salt into the foyer, too quickly to aim for anything but the vague direction of the shapes. Constance scrambled back, aware enough of her limitations to know she’d better crawl to higher ground. The salt crystals scattered, forming pools in the carpet as they rivered between her and Deirdre. Morgan held out her rod like a bat, and forded through the mess, kicking salt forwards. Constance had backed herself into a corner, and in her new Not-Quite-a-Real-Girl form, she wasn’t going to be slipping through the walls just yet. “Let me be very clear!” She shouted. “You had your turn and your time. You do not get to come in here and treat my life like it belongs to you. If you want to play god of thunder and rain down some third rate, leftover nonsense on my life, then we can play. I am not the same sad little witch you tried to murder five months ago. I will fight you, Constance. And I swear by every star in the verse, I will make you regret your entire existence. And you will leave my girlfriend alone when I do!” She swung the iron rod and in an instant, Constance’s body dissolved in a flash of grainy ether.

Morgan stayed still for several moments, her trembling arm still raised. Was she done yet? Was it over? The thought drew a breathless laugh from her. Just as she registered the sound, it dissolved into sobs. Morgan slumped and let the rod clatter to the floor.

It was a great fortune that Morgan came when she did, and Deirdre stepped aside so Morgan could do her work. When the fear subsided, and Constance’s body evaporated, pride and concern swelled and she threw her weapon aside to scoop Morgan into her arms. “You did good, my love.” She scanned her for injury, knowing that she would have healed any by now. She pressed her palm to the place where she had been stabbed, running her other hand along her back—where the torrent claimed her skin. She was safe and she was whole, and Deirdre pulled her closer. They had some hours—maybe, if Constance was like a regular ghost—before her body came back together to hurt them again. They needed to get up a salt line, call any witch that would come on short notice, and ready themselves with the salt and the iron. But for now, while they had the chance, Deirdre wanted to hold her girlfriend. “I love you,” she mumbled with a sigh of relief, “I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Are you hurting anywhere?”

Morgan collapsed into Deirdre’s arms, sobbing still. She pressed her palms all over her to assure herself she was fine and already healing. “I--love--” She gulped for air and held her tighter, nodding furiously so the rest of what she meant was understood. “You can’t keep doing that,” she rasped. “You can’t act like you’re worth less than me. I need you. You can’t make it end like that, I need you…” She rose on her tiptoes as she cried into her hair, straining to feel as much of Deirdre as she could at once. “You are the best part of this life. And I would not know how to give a shit about any of it without you existing in it somewhere. Please...” She shuddered. “I love you. We can find a way to protect each other next time. Please, okay? And I’m sorry I yelled. I didn’t mean to yell, I was just so scared…”

“I know. I’m sorry, I know.” Deirdre breathed, holding Morgan tighter, peppering firm kisses to the side of her face. “But you can’t act like your body is some convenient meat shield either, it matters more than that, it deserves more than that. You matter to me so much, Morgan. And Constance wants you. She can take or leave me, but she wants you. And she took you once, and I can’t let that happen again, and I won’t scream this time if something happens and—“ Deirdre swallowed, breathing in Morgan. “If I was going to die, I’d know and I’d tell you, as soon as I could. I promise it. I’m not leaving you without a warning, without giving us time—not that I want to leave you at all.” Not that she wasn’t wholly prepared to finally fight fate, no matter the sacrilege, if it meant being with Morgan. She was prepared to fight when it claimed Morgan, and she’d fight if it ever came around to her. “I love you. Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry I yelled and pushed you, and didn’t listen. I just—I don’t want to lose you either. You’re the best part of my life too.” She shifted, bringing her hands up to hold Morgan’s face and thumb away her tears. “Hey, we’ve got some time before we need to salt everything. What do you need? What do you want right now?”

Morgan pressed desperately into Deirdre’s touches. “It’s okay,” she whispered, sniffling. “I pushed you first. I was trying to protect you, I thought it would be safer that way. I don’t think she knows what I am, maybe even what zombies are. Not that, you know, I knew that at the time. Or that we should keep banking on that. I just mean--” She nuzzled into Deirdre’s palm and kissed it. “I’m sorry. I was just scared, that whole time. I saw her face and I was--” She shook her head and tucked herself close again. “Just this. And we should do something for your throat. Some salve or tea or an ice pack for the swelling, but--” She stopped herself from pitching over the end of that train of thought. “I just want to be with you. I want us to be safe and together.” And I want my fucking life, she added silently. And if that meant grinding Constance’s down to nothing so not even the universe could have her again, so be it.

[flowiehowie]

Tales of Heroism OC Profile #1

So about a year ago I started the Masks: A new Generation tabletop game with two of my friends. The premise of the game is basically Super heroes DnD. It was fun but didn't last as I was the only one between us with interest in super heroics and the story we were making kinda turned into an Urban Fantasy setting. However I still had deep love for my super hero characters so I kept adding to the world I was making, making a Google Doc of character profiles and plot ideas.

Now since this Quarantine has me loosing my mind I decided to post them. I dont know how many I will do, but I have a lot of love for these characters and this setting I made, so if you happen to see this, I hope you enjoy them too! Please ask me questions! If you have your own super hero OC tell me about them! Super heroes are cool. We need more of them.

SOCIETY OF CHAMPIONS HERO DOSSIERS   HERO ID: M-19T-M34 HEROIC ALIAS: Hourglass CURRENT RANK: 103 FULL NAME: Aaliyah Curtis SEX: FEMALE HEIGHT: Imperial: 6 Feet 10 inches. Metric: 208.28cm RACE: African-American HAIR COLOR: Brown EYE COLOR: Black Sclera, glowing green iris.   ANOMOLOUS APPEARANCE?: Yes. Across the left side of her face, her chest, her shoulders, and her lower back and upper thighs, she has small green stones embedded in her skin. Cracks of green energy may also appear near these stones. Her left arm has been completely replaced with a long durable spike of this green stone. DATE OF BIRTH: July 10th, 1953 (Note made by Kelsey B., Archivist; Despite knowing her DOB, the age of Hourglass is constantly in flux due to the nature of her powers. Refer to Professor Scath’s medical reports for further analysis and data regarding this) NEXT OF KIN: N/A POWER OF ATTORNEY: Cassandra Clark ORIGIN OF POWERS: Mutation( ) - Inherited Genetics ( ) - Forced Experimentation ( ) - Cybernetic augmentation ( ) - Cosmic Force (X) - Extraterrestrial ( ) - Extraterrestrial experimentation ( ) - Divine Force ( ) - ORIGIN OF POWER NOTES: Archivist Kelsey Bernard. I have spent an hour with Hourglass trying to record the exact origins and circumstances of her powers, however she was frustratingly dismissive of my attempts. All I could gather is that when she was young she somehow fell into the dimension she refers to as the ‘Eternal Epoch’. May I personal suggest that is a ridiclously pretentious name. Just call it the time zone or something. These heroes and their silly names. Anyways she fell into the ‘Eternal Epoch’, a dimension of pure time, whatever that means. Time is an illusion everyone knows that. It was there she gained her powers, and had the green crystals embedded in her chest, stomach, face, and where she lost her arm. And gained the cool sword arm. God how cool would that be having a sword arm? Randy wouldn't steal my lunches if I had a sword arm. I wonder if Hourglass could threaten Randy for me. I mean shes a hero and he is a vile criminal that keeps stealing my grilled cheeses so... POWERS:   1.) Personal Time Manipulation: Her base power and theme she based her name on. Given to her from her time trapped in the Eternal Epoch dimension. She can speed herself up or down, and any object(s) or person(s) in her line of sight. She can’rewind’ a person(s) or object(s) movement to up to a minute. 2.) Expounded attacks: A variation of her Time manipulation ability. Hourglass can manipulate the feeling of one of her attacks, and replay it rapidly. As such if she punches you once she can make it feel like 100 hits. She can do this for other physical sensations as well.   3.) Time Healing. A variation of her time manipulation ability. Hourglass may use her abilities on any wounds to regrow and repair damage. There seems to be a limit to this as Hourglass can not undo limb lose, or to heal internal injuries. 4.) Physical boost: As with all Meta Humans Hourglass has increased durability, endurance, strength, and speed. How much of this is related to her Time Manipulation ability is unclear 5.) Portal manipulation: Hourglass is able to open portals to the Eternal Enoch. It seems she can enter and exit the dimension at will. It seems as if she can be pulled into the dimension unwillingly as well. When asked  about this Hourglass simply replied “What can I say,when you time travel you learn to prank yourself in annoying ways”. PHYSICAL ABILITIES:   1.) Experienced Boxer. 2.) Basic fencing and swordplay skills. PERSONALITY AND TEMPERAMENT: Observed and documented by Archivist Kelsey Bernard.In my time spent with Hourglass one would label her as laid back. She relishes any moment to sit and rest, and will usually respond to any threats and calls to duty with a sigh and an eye roll. Despite this she seems to enjoy being active in her encounters with the League of Rouges.  More than that she also treats the villains she comes across with familiarity. In a battle I witnessed between the speedster Constance Motio AKA Motor, Hourglass would ask about her family and school life. Motor seemed happy for the talk, and even asked Hourglass for life advice. In turn Hourglass likes to involve the Reporter Cassandra Clark in these conversations as well, which leads me to Hourglass’ relationship with the reporter. Why is it heroes are always drawn to reporters? Is it like a universal law? Cassandra Clark, or as she likes to be called Cassie, was one of the first to discover Hourglass. The two seemed to form a friendship, and are never to far apart. I observed Hourglass spending much of her free time with Cassie, and despite officials of the Society asking her not to, will regularly involve Cassie in ongoing investigations. WEAKNESS: Does Orange soda count? Or as she calls it ‘Sody-pop’. Jeez showing your age a bit there Hourglass sweetie. It is fun to say though. Seriously she chugs those things. All the time. More professionally though, I have observed no physical weakness. You will need to refer to The Umber Knights Combat files. As to her powers I observed that the more she uses her time manipulation powers cracks of energy appear on her skin. She tends to not think ahead and is very reactionary in the moment.  It is easy to provoke her, and she is quick to loose her temper. Especially when dealing with Ricky Delaney, AKA Stalemate. Whenever Stalemate is involved she tends to act very petty and rash. She is also unable to assume a secret identity due to her anomalous appearance, though she does not seem to mind this. CLOSING NOTES: Archivist Kelsey Bernard. God am I glad no one really reads these general profiles. I wouldn't have nearly as much fun with them. Hourglass is hot and may I just say I totally ship her and Cassie. Am I allowed to say that? Imma do it anyways. Next time she comes in to collect her stipend I am going to ask her to go knock Randy’s head into the fridge.

[bitofthisandthat]

HEADCANON || ERIS [Other Pantheons.]

Originally housed on the main sidebar links for reference purposes, these headcanons/ideas were built between 2013-2015, some are based from rp interactions with other roleplayers, others are my originals. ALWAYS up for new development, these relationships are not set in stone.

NORSE

Odin, Frigg—The Royal couple that has many meetings and summits with her own Mother and Father. Eris is brought along regularly, mostly at her dismay and annoyance. At first, Eris suspected this was Zeus’s way of controlling his wayward daughter by bringing her along so that she couldn’t cause trouble back South with both Royals up North. But she later discovered it had political overtones. Odin and Zeus get along quite well on a variety of levels, as do Hera and Frigg; but Eris hates that she is the little pet they parade with them every time. For centuries, Eris avoided any bonding with the King/Queen of Aesgard, seeing Odin as the same stubborn, hard excluding parent as her Father. She looked at him with hard prejudice that he’d be unfaithful to his good Queen and harm his children as Zeus had. But their political friendship excludes private matters, and whether or not Firgg and Odin know of ALL of her family’s dirty laundry or not, she at long last respects them enough to look past it, and ignore it. She still does not trust Odin, as all authority figures/fathers, and she does not like what she sees in his clan as far as favoritism goes—but she can relate to it. However, she does look at Frigg from afar, in complete and total jealousy of this pantheon’s children. She is constantly comparing Hera to her in her mind, and is livid her Mother is not as accepting, patient, and as fair as she. Eris secretly holds her in high regard, but keeps her at arms distance, careful to not get attached to Frigg. For in her mind, if she started to admit she wishes to have her as a substitute mother, she will be utterly shattered by the disappointment that she will never have it. She does it to protect herself, and is courteous to Frigg, but also distant as if she is another face in court. Baldr—The Golden God went right under the Goddess’s radar for many centuries, as just a quiet, serious boy that everyone adored. She immediately looked away, and pegged him as yet another twin like her (and so many Godly twins). She only began to notice him as a possible threat to her Chaos, as he was her exact, polar, perfect opposite. She ignored much of him in protection of her own self as she named him to be a future enemy. He seemed to be just a stubborn, arrogant child to her most times, and was hugely put off by his invincibility. She had no knowledge of his personality, and saw him as just as he presented himself to everyone. But she still didn’t trust him, because she could detect him hiding something deep down about himself. She knew of his psychic abilities and pension for hunting, but that was all else that she knew. He never seemed to be alone, always surrounded by troves of fawners. Which is why it was a total shock to come upon him alone one day, finding her sacred Drum. They struck a binding vow that day in exchange for her Drum, and struggled for a time to feel anything but frustration and anger towards the other.

Sygn—Sygn is Eris’s good friend and alway available to share a venting session and a few cocktails when they are going through stressed times. The Goddess of Constancy and Faithfulness is a welcomed friend for Eris, she, like Baldr is incapable of disloyalty, so the Discord Goddess finds her company both soothing and valuable. They share a lot of views on romance and Pantheon politics, and both are willing to go out on a limb for the other. They respect each other’s powers and feel estranged from their former mates/other Gods and rely on each other as a stable friend.

Loki—[ Generally; all Loki’s tend to interact with Eris based on this, but are different apart from each other; as it stands I have NO main Loki. ]  Loki and Eris are either in constant heated debate or in morbid fascination of each other.There is no middle ground. They are equals on stubbornness and vanity, but at the same mention, they understand the other’s outcasted existence and rebellion. Even as Eris allows him a foot into her space, she still does not trust him fully. She will acknowledge his powers and prowess, but she holds no foolish hope that he respects her in turn. She looks at him and sees the potential for either enemy or lover, but never anything in between. She finds his need to dominate her an unforgivable offense. This is the dance between two cobras, each hooding the other, and every time it is a coin toss which one will strike first.

NATIVE INDIGENOUS & POLYNESIAN

Pele—The Goddess of Fire, Volcanoes and Queen protector of Ha’waii is both Eris’s rival and close friend. The two share the same emotional, fiery, stubborn demeanors and therefore clash. Eris cannot understand how Pele can feel remorse for what she does and is, as Eris celebrates her chaotic nature. Their similarities end as Pele is a protector, and Eris is a destroyer. They have the same allure and passion, so once and awhile the anger at the other is clouded by quick attraction and fierce seduction—but then it soon retreats into argumentative rivalry again.

Coyote–Fellow Trickster and Chaos God, Eris of course, never fully trusts a deity that has the same job as she. Pranks ensue whenever he is near, and although she is attracted to him, she keeps him at arm’s length when it comes to personal matters. If ever they engage in business together, she keeps part of her plans to herself; because out of all other trickster Gods, Coyote’s the least she feels safest with. She would trust Loki and Anansi before Coyote. Just as she’s engaged in affairs and casual lusts with other troublesome/dangerous deities, she has learned to never let herself fall for them, (as she knows her own kin too well) and at best, stays far from him unless they have same goals in an endeavor.

White Buffalo Mother–The peace-keeper and wise all-mother shows herself as an elderly woman to Eris, not a young maiden or mother. It is a face of authority and everlasting truth, and one that shrinks the Chaos Goddess into the mindset of scolded child. She keeps far from her once she is detected, but at the same time wishes to confide in her. The mixed emotions of unease and need to be comforted is a confusing friction to the Discord of her soul. It’s easier to avoid her altogether. But she is a powerful authority that will silence Eris and send her away upon appearing.

SHINTO & TAOIST & BUDDAHIST

Susanowa— God of Storms, oceans, mayhem and snakes, considered a “Dark” God among his pantheon. He was a war general of the Gods, that caused grief for his Sister, The Goddess of Light and Purity. He is often put in his place for his actions. He was the past love of Eris that duped her into falling for him deeply, that ended with dire consequences when a Kitsune (fox spirit) warned her it was just a joke, a wager he won with an unnamed Egyptian God. (probably Set) The bet was to see who could get the vain, reckless Goddess to kneel in love and admit weakness. The humiliation has made her vow to ruin him at any chance she gets. Quan Yin— [past] The Goddess of Compassion, Divine Healing and Grace first came to Eris’s aid in long ancient past— as the Greek deity of Discord, Chaos, and Strife was on the run from Yama’s forces for a task that went sour. (Planned of course, but she had to leave his territory to escape prosecution) The Kind Goddess disguised herself as a wretched looking, blind old woman and spirited her safely away, for no other reason that she saw Eris’s path and pain, and sympathized with her. She confused the Goddess, and at the time The Goddess’s opposing force energy caused enough interference in the space between them that Eris did not detect this old woman was in guise. Eris was as well, but as she escaped, years later, she had various encounters with the Goddess, offering her hope, but Eris rejected all of it. She suspects everyone, and can not understand Quan Yin’s drive to aide her. But the Love Goddess will continue to offer her care.

EGYPTIAN

Set—Not her favorite of the Pantheon, currently. She was allied to him in the past, but since the events with Susanowa, she is cold to him. Although she has minimal details, she is not shy from hating him as well. Set perhaps did not have 100% involvement as she likes to think, (her own sanity’s sake) but he does not correct her either. Ammit—The heart-eater of wicked souls is as sadistic, selfish, and cruel as Eris, the two are still getting to know one another better, sniffing the other dangerous Goddess out, but there is definite intrigue between them, both cautious but charmed by the other Goddess, aroused and angered at the same time.

Sekhmet & the war Gods– Obviously the Gods Eris, Enyo, Ares, and his sons (and their other war God brethren) go to as the nearest pantheon to converge. Eris has always had a suspicious feel toward the Lion Goddess, stemmed from the jealousy she feels when she sees her interact with her twin brother. Apart, she gets along famously, but the minute Ares steps into Sekhmet’s company it is one of the few times she sees him focus away from her, and on the other war deity. Naturally…Eris causes trouble and goes to her sons to “play” to even the score. And…fighting ensues, as expected. Osiris– Eris developed a lustful fascination with the king long ago, perhaps her own projection from Zeus onto him. But Osiris’s fair nature popped her fantasy of ‘ruining him’ as a means to envision what she would do to Zeus. Twisted, yes, but he allowed her advances and childish tantrums, as well as encouraged her seductions, but remained at arm’s length, never fully submitting or falling for her traps. He has, however tried to act kind and give her soft council, being gentle with her as a good parent would, and this only sends Eris into a fit, screaming and flaying against him, running off for ruining her twisted plan. Still, he sees her as unfortunate and knows why she does what she does, and feels sorry for her.

HINDU

Kali—Another divine Mother of destruction and Chaos, when Kali is in her most crazed form, she is her greatest ally. When she returns to Pavarti or Durga, she is unwilling to give Eris any assistance. She will offer compassion to her, but nothing else. The Mother trinity has one thing in common; all parts of Kali mourn Eris’s motherhood with her, and work with her to find some manner around it. Hanuman—The Monkey God is at her side in constant game and guidance, trying to win her heart over to the understanding Struggle can also be won in the end by Compassion. But, Eris refuses his advice. She acknowledges that they are two separate Gods of Struggle, and her particular being is meant to be the essence of Strife, and not the aftermath of wisdom that comes from it. She acknowledges it, but He does his best to win her in humor and game. She tolerates his company, and understands respects the outcome of HIS deity-ship, but feels he is so proselytizing that he in turn disrespects what SHE is. He is constantly misunderstanding her. They are ironically, at constant struggle with one another. But that doesn’t stop them from mountain top card games and other intelligent leisurely gaming.

LOA & VOODOO

There is a rivaled long standing game, friendly and dark—and only Eris is willing to play the high stakes that the Loa demand. They are caught between admiring each other’s powers and influence, and competing for souls and who has the prime influence over the old ways. Eris is drawn to this Pantheon, since there is no hypocrisy among them. Dark or Light, they are what they are—kill, be killed, sacrifice, or honor it…and everyone knows it. They are a breath of ‘fresh air’ to Eris, reminding her of her own cults back in the ‘Golden Era’ when the ancients where not afraid to do certain things to bargain with their Gods. The Divinity of the women Goddesses in this Pantheon speaks to her, and the horror of the male Gods excites her. There are constant games between them all, bloody, chaotic, spiritual. and there are no lies. Pure, darkness and light and nothing in between. Other Pantheons may shirk at this Pantheon, but Eris welcomes it, and other misunderstood surreal Pantheons in its like.

AFRIKANS

Anansi–Fellow clever assassin and wise trickster, Eris has many past encounters with the spider-God, and works with him over and over. He is another friend she engages in global trouble making with, and out of all the trickster/chaos Gods, he is one of the only ones that she trusts enough to call a true friend. They find humor in one another, ribbing the other constantly and taking turns pranking the other. However, they never cross the line into true harm, a silent promise they both made eons ago. If one ever crosses the line, they both understand the alliance is over. Oshun–Goddess of love, sexuality, water, and healing, someone Eris has crossed on more than one occasion for her own means. The Goddess sees through all of Eris’s lies and Discord, and will argue her into a draw. Eris knows she is her opposition (from this Pantheon the same as other love Goddesses/Gods) But Oshun is one of the few of her opposing energies she will seek out and argue for advice. She knows she will be clean and concise, there will be no sugar coating or subterfuge, Oshun will tell her exactly what she wants/needs to know. And although Eris’s nature is to distrust/despise Love deities, Oshun is one love deity where Eris’s anger is only a disguise to get close enough to unload her woes and seek consolation. Oshun knows this, but plays the game for the Greek’s sake. (understanding the pride of all Goddesses)

AZTEC, INCA, MAYAN

Obviously the more bloodthirsty “honest” War God/desses here are perfect for Eris to do business with. Blood and war are daily acceptance to half the pantheon, and it is here where Eris and other Greco-Roman war Gods enjoy coming to visit. They have feasts, games, and exchanges together, Eris often coming to trade talisman, scrolls, and other mystical objects with their pantheon on a  regular basis. It is said whenever a continent is getting an influx of blood war and chaos, all the War deities from all the pantheons are convening, and Eris coming to their realm is usually the first place she goes to rally, knowing they will almost ALWAYS join her and her brother. Although they all tear up the landscape for business, when they visit they are refined, spoiled, and lazy together, speaking at length about interests and past stories, etc.

[cringeculturekiller]

EPIC INTRO POST!

Hi there, you can call me Buttons or Queenie, whichever name works for you, I’ll have most of my posts tagged under Buttons however, just for the sake of constancy. I’m 18, however I will not accept any sort of NSFW/NSFT submissions/talk on this blog. MAYBE mild suggestive jokes, but I know a lot of people aren’t comfortable with NSFW/sexual topics so as such I’ll avoid them as much as possible. I use she/he/they and some neos, my main ones being kni/knives, zeep/zeeple, room/rang, and dia/diam, and I’m bi, greyace, autistic, and genderqueer. And I self ship and I love crossovers, so theres that as well.

Anyhoo, welcome! This blog is dedicated to discussing and dismantling cringe culture/fandom cringe poisoning, and also for providing people a safe space to talk about things such as interests, headcannons, crossovers, ideas, identity and whatnot! 

RULES/BYF (these apply for asks, submissions, ect.): - Try to avoid bringing up heavy topics, such as extreme angst, wump, extreme gore whatever people call it these days. You can talk about light angst and whatnot, just make sure to include the appropriate content warnings - I will not allow any sort of dead dove do not eat/proship content on this blog  - I do not want to engage in fandom discourse, it’s draining and at the end of the day that’s not really what this blog is for.  - I WON’T ALLOW ANY SORT OF KINK/NSFW, PERIOD. Even “sfw” kinks, because at the end of the day it will still make people uncomfortable and violated.  - Of course DNI if you’re a terf, exclusionist, anti neopronouns, ect., just I’m not going to engage in queer discourse here.  - Same if you post “otherkin cringe” or whatnot or think kins are cringe, and if you’re ablest  - I will note that often times I’ll have periods where I’m offline from tumblr due to mental health/irl events, so if I don’t get to your ask instantly, don’t worry, it’s likely due to the listed reasons - Just!!! Have fun :D

[scriptflorist]

Name: Braynan Garcia

Nickname: Bray

Birthday: Jan 12 2013 (he’s a teenager in my story)

Birthplace: Miami

Dwelling place: Miami

How do they live: Braynan was very much an anti-social loner and used to stay at his “homes” because he has rich parents who own a chain of luxury hotels and a beachfront mansion home. He causes a lot of fuss making every hotel his “home” by demanding unbooked rooms for himself. He gets his room, services, meals “free” when in reality everything goes through his parents to handle so they always know exactly where he’s been and what he does. His lifestyle literally blows up when a bomb goes off in his room, intended for the next customer, Alissa Keets, a famous writer, who is very grateful but horrified for her life being saved that way. She gets in touch with Braynan, pays for all his medical bills, even though his parents are richer. Braynan no longer stays at his parents’ hotels because he is now in a wheelchair and stays in his parents’ home. Jazan has his brother Galan help with work so he can often stay home to take care of and repair his relationship with his son. Cala starts visiting often as well, shocked at almost losing her only biological son and realizes she actually cares. Lustor comes over when possible as well. Basically the entire story is balance between work and family and biological family vs adopted family and they realize all family is important, so in the end, they all live as one big happy family. Oh, and Alissa and Cala start dating in the end as well (they’re about the same age).

Appearance: Braynan always wears expensive name brand clothes. His hair is neat and gelled up and wears a couple expensive bracelets.

What’s in their bag/pockets: Cash, credit card, phone. He actually brings a huge suitcase with his clothes and belongings every time he used to stay at his parents’ hotels.

Species: Human

Name of parents: Jazan and Lustor (Biological parents are Jazan and Cala, Cala is the surrogate mother and friends with Jazan.)

Others next of kin: Galan (Uncle)

Not-in-blood-but-in-bond-family: Alissa Keets

Family history: Braynan’s family is multicultural, immigrants (including illegal before becoming a citizen) to America from various countries around the world.

Favourite colour: Black, Grey.

Favourite book: Silenced (a story about a country devastated after war, and the nameless victims) ([My character, Alissa’s book]

Favourite genre: Action, fantasy, drama

Favourite food: Exotic foods and fine dining

Personality: Originally a messed up teenager whose parents rarely see him and he thinks everything his parents’ own is his. He was loud-mouthed, demanding, cold-hearted, rude, spontaneous and very anti-social. He becomes more friendly, warm, kind, loving, as well as feels ashamed and sorry for his previous bad behavior. He’s neat though, so he’s never trashed the hotel rooms he’s been nor damages stuff. He doesn’t smoke or take drugs but sometimes drinks but is sensible enough to never get drunk. Oh, but he does swear, but not too much.

Misc: Note that my story takes place in the future. First of all, my character is a teenager yet I mentioned him drinking. The drinking age becomes 16 in the future, so he’s legal. Secondly, I never mentioned my character going to school. School is online so he can physically be anywhere he wants and has no classmates to talk to. I’m barely writing about his school life, but he is a good student. Thirdly, the parents are actually two men, thus the need for a surrogate. I probably used male pronouns for them but in case it slipped through because if you search ‘Jazan’ it will show up as a female name. 

___

Hey Tak,

No problem, I've added it to the rest of your submission! Just in case it hasn't been apparent with the previous character submissions, I base the flowers I pick on the information given in each section that you filled out. In your case, this means it may have gone a little off topic occasionally with the overall headline of the section.

Birthplace: Miami

Miami is located in Florida, which has two state flowers! Orange blossom and tickseed. Tickseed, better known as Coreopsis perhaps, is stated to be a wildflower, so I guess the orange trees are domesticated.

orange blossom – your purity equals your loveliness, chastity, innocence, eternal love, marriage, fruitfulness

coreopsis – always cheerful

coreopsis (arkansa) – love at first sight

Based on how they live

acacia – friendship, platonic love, secret love

agave – security

agrimony – thankfulness, gratitude

ash mountain – prudence, with me you are safe

aspen – lamentation, fear, groan, excessive sensibility

balm of gilead – healing, cure, relief, I am cured, time

basil (sweet) – good wishes

bee ophrys – error

bee orchis – error, industry

bell flower – gratitude, indiscretion, acknowledgement

bell flower (white, small) – gratitude

broom-rape – union

calycanthus – benevolence

cardamine – paternal error

chestnut – justice, do me justice

cinquefoil – maternal affection, beloved daughter/child

citronella – homosexual love

coltsfoot (sweet-scented) – maternal care, justice, justice shall be done, we will do you justice

cowslip – healing, youth, pensiveness, winning grace, rusticity, early joys, native grace

daffodil – sunshine, respect, regard, unrequited love, new beginnings, self-love, chivalry, deceitful hopes

flax – I feel your kindness, benefactor, domestic industry, domestic symbol, fate, I am sensible of your kindness

fly orchis – error

freesia – lasting friendship, innocence, trust

geranium – true friend, stupidity, folly, envy, gentility

geranium (oak-leaved) – true friendship, friendship, lady deign to smile

glycine – your friendship is pleasing and agreeable to me

goat's rue – reason

heath – solitude

heather (lavender) – solitude, admiration

ivy – friendship, matrimony, I have found one true heart, constancy, fidelity, marriage, wedded love, affection

lichen – solitude, confidence, dejection

moss – maternal love, recluse, charity

narcissus – selfishness, self-love, egotism, formality, stay as sweet as you are

palm – victory

pussy willow – motherhood

sundew (round-leaved) – surprise

sunflower (dwarf) – your devout adorer, adoration

sunflower (tall) – pride, haughtiness, false riches, lofty and pure thoughts, smile on me still

verbena (pink) – family union

virginia creeper – I cling to you both in sunshine and in shade

wood sorrel – maternal tenderness, joy

For info about violets and lesbians go here.

Based on appearance (also fits the contents of his bag & pockets)

chrysanthemum – wealth, abundance, cheerfulness, you're a wonderful friend, loveliness

corn – riches

grape vine – abundance, intoxication

lily (tiger) – wealth, pride, prosperity

poppy (yellow) – wealth, success

Favourite colour: Black

black bryony – support, be my support

blackberry – envy

ebony – blackness

laburnum – blackness, pensive beauty, forsaken

mulberry (black) – I shall not survive you, devotedness

poplar (black) – courage

Favourite book: Silenced (a story about a country devastated after war, and the nameless victims) ([My character, Alissa’s book]

achillea millefolia – war

aloe – grief, bitterness, religious superstition

aloes (parrot bill) – grief

cypress – despair, mourning, death, disappointed hopes

dragonwort – horror

greek valerian – rupture

handflower tree – warning

harebell – grief, submission, humility

hop – injustice

indian cress – warlike trophy, resignation

marigold – grief, cruelty, inquietude, contempt, chagrin, pain, pretty love, sacred affection, caress, sorrow, trouble

milfoil – war

monkshood – beware, danger is near, chivalry, knight-errantry, a deadly foe I near

nasturtium – a warlike trophy, patriotism, resignation, conquest, victory in battle

oleander – beware(!), caution

rhododendron – danger, beware, I am dangerous

rudbeckia – justice

tussilage (sweet-scented) – justice shall be done you, you shall have justice

yarrow – war, to cure, a cure for the heartache, cure for a broken heart, cure for heartache

Based on personality

agnus castus – coldness, indifference

bladder nut tree – frivolous amusement, frivolity, amusement

blue bell – kindness, constancy, sorrowful regret, humility, gratitude

borage – rudeness, bluntness

broom – neatness, humility, ardour,

bur – rudeness, you weary me

cactus – warmth, maternal love, ardent love, endurance, my heart burns with love

chaste tree – coldness

clotness – rudeness, pertinacity

copihue – there is no unalloyed good

crocus (spring) – youthful gladness

darnel – vice

dodder – meanness, baseness

feverfew – warmth

fig marigold – coldness, idleness

geranium (night smelling) – melancholy spirit

geranium (scarlet) – thou art changed, folly, stupidity, comforting, consolation, melancholy

hortensia – you are cold, carelessness

hydrangea – you are cold, (a) boaster, heartlessness, dispassion, thank you for understanding, frigidity

hyssop – cleanliness

ladies' bedstraw – rudeness

lettuce – cold-hearted, cold-heartedness, coldness

marsh mallow – kindness, beneficence

peppermint – warmth of feeling, cordiality

pimpernel – change, assignation, the weather-glass

pink (indian double) – always lovely

saffron – beware of excess, abuse, do not deceive yourself

rose (striped) – warmth of heart

rye grass – changeable disposition

spearmint – warmth of sentiment, warm sentiment

spotted arum – warmth

xanthium – rudeness, pertinacity

- Mod Jana

Disclaimer

This blog is intended as writing advice only. This blog and its mods are not responsible for accidents, injuries or other consequences of using this advice for real world situations or in any way that said advice was not intended.