#I’m not naming all of the characters in every death pact team in tags that would be stupid

[cabbagekid09]

I might be posting a lot today but uh screw you

I think in the finale of TPOT, all the members of Death P.A.C.T. (The original, again, and yet again) should all have a reunion and fix all of their problems and relationships with each other

That would be awesome

[gwtwoimpsarewe]

Welcome to the Family

So, this story won’t make a lot of sense without context; but I’ll save that for another post. I wrote it to enjoy it and it’s my first full OC full prose. Hopefully ya’ll enjoy it too.

A quick helper tho set after the prologue bound by blood. So mild? Spoilers? 

Lorcan Vulthon - Norn, Roughly about 26 (circa 1332),(Ex-)Wolf Shaman,  (Ex-)Auxiliary Iron Legion Engineer, Vigil Initiate. Yes he was raised by wolves. (Not literally) 

Zariah Dào - Human, Roughly about 42 (circa 1332), (My Commander for the game, but operates under Lt. Commander to allow for easier rp), Warmaster of a Vigil Company, Lorcan’s new Boss, Has not tapped out since Claw Island. 

Veeck - my necromancer reaper I haven’t made but am taking from an old DnD character of mine, Asura, age unknown, The Deacon of Pain,  

A jungle stalker, tiger and one other feline mini follow him around that’s the joke. One of the JP’s for the Tiger den Achievement is what sparked this. 

Not sure what to tag it but it starts funny ends feelsy, found family vibes, if descriptions of eyes squick you (no harm just who’s looking at you, sudden eye contact etc) be wary or pass on, fluffy angst I suppose, emotional breakdown,

it ends happily I swear! 

(Don’t panic if things seem to change, I post and edit as I go otherwise I get locked in perfectionism spiral and never post at all.) 

-

“Boss.” 

Eyes shielded from the setting sun, Lorcan peered out over the landscape, comm at the ready. 

“Boooossssss.” 

Dusk crawled toward the horizon. Hazy smoke trails blown over the open fields lazily from the nearby mill, an end of a lovely day, on all accounts. 

“Boss!” 

The receiver came to life in Lorcan’s hand with an exhausted sigh of static as Lt. Commander Zariah sluggishly answered, “Yes, Lorcan. What is it?” 

The smile pulled over Lorcan’s face, unable to resist the urge to tease. “Kinda, an odd time of day to be sleeping sir.” 

It was utterly incredible how he could feel the dry stare-down and complex half lecture on the misuse of communications equipment in a brief pause. 

That was talent right there.  

Another sigh brought his attention back in, “I wasn’t, thank you, did you need something?” 

Brightening, Lorcan sat down in front of the mess of fur and leaves, “Yeah! I found your cat bed!” 

“… What.”  

Lorcan gestures at the pile of leaves at his feet although his officer couldn’t see it. “Yeah! One of your Sylvari, the one with the monotone-” 

“-Ours, and their name is Eir, -” 

“-Said one of your weird tiny death machines-“ 

“-Again, wild animals, and not mine-” 

“-Yeah, yeah, the striped one ran off and went to bed everything-” 

“-Tiger; and has been making beds not bedding, your Common is improving-” 

“I found one!” 

The crackle and whine from a heavy static sigh made Lorcan wince and pull the device from his ear. 

“...… You’ve found a tiger.” 

Something about the suddenly calculating monotone made his insides squirm as he forced the cheerful up another notch. “Well no, but I’ve found its bed, and now we have each other’s scents, and I probably will find it and we’ll form a life-long bond like rangers and shaman-” 

“Lorcan.” His name came gently, cutting off his rambling in a way that had nausea setting in. 

“I’m grateful you found one, does it look fresh?” The genial tone was almost disconcerting after seeing nothing but jaded exhaustion, and it was wrong. 

This was not how this works. 

This was a crank call. Because he’s Lorcan. The rambling loud, obnoxious idiot whose superiors while agitated are fond of. Lorcan, who did not want to do this all over again but here they are, and Zariah! Who’d barely known him three days! 

Who took him in without blinking after getting cut off from his war-band, who trusted him enough for a reconnaissance mission. Who put up with all his antics so far with a droll but benign stare; who—

A rustling came finally, along with the clink and slosh of what Lorcan knew to be the large mug of coffee usually in hand. 

“Lorcan-” 

“Stop that,” his throat felt tight, half leaping to his feet into a defensive stance, “You—Don’t-” The plains suddenly felt suffocatingly small, leaving him on edge and snarling into his comm. 

Burn him, what was he doing. 

“Lorcan.” 

“Stop that!” his ears were burning, eyes stinging against the smoke in the air. It was his name; it was just his name what the tar was his problem? 

The placid silence that followed nearly had him throw the damn thing down onto the rocks. Embarrassment burned viciously under his skin. He was better than this now. He wasn’t- 

“Lo-” 

He turned the comm offline. 

-

It was long past dark by the time he’d calmed down, eyes red and throat raw, hunched at the base of the tree.

Great first impression.

Really sold it this time.

Groaning, he dug his face into his knees to do something other than mope in the dark like a moody cub. Or worse start up again.

A skittering of rocks and not entirely muffled metal had him look up in time to see a silhouette with an obnoxious Asuran light nearly blind him.

“Mind if I come over? You turned your comm off.” Zariah inquired tilting his head to the side just before the last jump. “I can stay over here. Just wanted to-”

Lorcan waved him off with a flippant hand and shoved his face back down. “Make sure I hadn’t broken-”  

“-Your bones. Yes. Or anything else important to your personal self.” Zariah moved over the outburst with both a note of finality and comfort that had Lorcan looking up out of instinct, only to wince again at the mini sun in his Commanders hand.

“… If you're going to jump over, douse the Mouse-Light. Before I lose my eyes.”

 Immediately, the object dimmed down and out before far more familiar sounds came and a torch sparked to life. “Sorry about that, but I’ll ask you to refrain from derogatory names. Veeck is a valued member of our team and cares deeply about our survival.”

“… The Asura.”

“Yes.”

“Who rambles on about some new Entity?”

“Of Pain, yes.”

“… Boss.”

“Not up for debate, Lorcan.”

Heaving to his feet with a sigh, Lorcan reached out to him; “Well, can’t let them upstage me now can I. C’mon I’ll catch you; it won’t give you enough light without the M--……. beacon. From the Deacon.”

Zariah landed with a grunt into his grip. “You’ll have to share that one, they’d love that-what is that an idiom?”

“Not a clue.” Wearily sitting again, Lorcan stopped short as something small and purring wormed its way into his lap. “… Uh…”

“She likes belly rubs, and she can smell tears.” Was all Zariah offered settling next to him and safely anchoring the torch in front of them, while the Stalker wiggled about before she settled solidly into Lorcan’s lap. Big eyes batted up at him, as if pointedly proving Zariah’s point; said belly up and offered.

Slowly, Lorcan answered the demand, a new deeper slew of purrs unleashed in repayment. “I thought you said they’re wild.”

“They are. Or were, a few years ago. They found me in the Maguuma, when Mordremoth was; well you know.” came the easy answer, as Zariah set about digging in his pack and handing over a wrapped meat smelling something to Lorcan who merely blinked at it.

“You haven’t eaten since before you left and I know how Norn eat. Eat your dinner.”

Gingerly, Lorcan accepted the meal; before peering at him. “… Does this get any weirder?”

“Only if you let your guard down long enough for them to steal it.”

“Wh-Hey!”

 -

They sat like that a long while, quietly; with a lap full of warm purring death machines, a belly full with warm food and drink, and tired eyes watching the torch slowly burn down to a smolder.

The lecture never came; the ‘we’re alike you and I’ speech, the wise mentor talk, whatever he’d been expecting. Zariah just sat there, relaxed and was… well, there.

But then it made sense didn’t it. He was a tactician for a military organization, one of the high tier leaders in the Pact, leader of his own company; and Lorcan was an accomplished engineer and a perceptive people's person when he wasn’t being difficult. 

There wasn’t anything to say.

He’d freaked out, he didn’t want to freak out, but he did. He’d reverted to causing a scene and trouble because he was a full inferno of freaking the blazes out. About what any of this meant now. About where home was now. What he would do now. What his purpose was now.

Had another identity crisis in an evening flat because he kept trying to put it in a title. Wolf Shaman, Auxiliary Charr—anything that wasn’t just him. How else could he go back and show that he’d changed after all? Prove he was all grown up out of his awkward paws making a mess of everything.

Except he hadn’t had he-

“pWaCKth!”

Lorcan spat fur out of his mouth, leaning away from the incessantly batting paws from his lap companion.  “Hey! Hey! Hey! C’mon!”

“I told you. She smells monologues.”

“You said tears.”

Stretching out with an innocent hum that edged too close to playful to pass as sincere, Zariah rose a brow at him, “Mm? Did I? I must have misspoken. So terribly sorry.”

The words pulled a snort out of Lorcan at the obvious lie, “So, what, she just slaps you in the face at random? Or she’s just psychic and knows when you're spiraling every time.”

Turning towards him, Zariah rose the brow higher, something of a smirk toying in the corner of his mouth. “Oh, definitely a psychic; when I need it. Constantly. She can tell usually because,” His eyes glanced meaningfully at Lorcan’s lap, “I’ve ceased to pet her.”

Lorcan paused, looking to where his hands had fallen stagnant some time ago on her back, much to the indignant pout on her face. “… Oh.”

“Well.” He chuckled at his own obliviousness and began smoothing hands down her head and spine apologetically, much to her delight, “S’a good trick.”

“She tries.” A yawn dragged out the end of the sentence as Zariah settled down more against Lorcan’s side who moved to accommodate him.

Eyes glanced at the time curiously, “Aw burn me, Boss I’m-”

“Safe.” That firm tone was back again, even as exhausted as it sounded. “And that’s all I care about. We’ll go back when you’re ready.”

“Don’t you have paperwork to do?”

“Great thing about paper, it’ll be there when I get back.”

“What about orders? Don’t you have to know what’s”

“Anything I need to know, I’ll know through my comm, if it’s of immediate importance. As for orders, there are other commanders.”

“… How many hours you running on here?”

“Two and a half, I was in fact sleeping when you called me.”

“Boss-” An incredulous laugh cut short by an overused stubborn excuse.

“I had coffee.”

-

Silence lapsed again, softer as the torch barely glowed embers and Zariah’s breathing began to deepened, and slow against his side.

It wouldn’t have made sense for how lax Zariah was, after seven years of nearly non-stop war and fighting; if the moon wasn’t glinting off four Iron Legion Sharpshooters standing guard nearby that Lorcan could now see.

“Boss?” swallowing around the lump in his throat, Lorcan nudged him again. “Hey, Boss.”

There was a slurred hum, eyes not even opening as Zariah lifted a brow in answer “Mmn—yes Lorcan.”

“… Thanks.”

“S’ what ‘m here for.”

-

Epilogue (aka beeps an giggles)

For the weight of a Pact Commander, Zariah was unnervingly light once you removed the pack, armor, weapons, felines, etc.

Which Lorcan awkwardly got to know firsthand as the pint-sized (seriously how small was this guy) Asura fussed around this way and that muttering too fast to keep up with.

It was a very odd feeling of you break it you buy it, with the Commanders sleep schedule. Which cemented in his mind as no one else seemed bothered by the ranting Asura at his feet. 

“-two months! Two months! Not even! We were so close, on ordered leave, relaxing, vacationing, nearly had it! But no! The evil little box of death opens its evil little mouth and ruin everything! This does not please the Pain!”

Lorcan made the mistake of uttering “Does anything,” before realizing the error as he became the subject of the bespectacled, laser sharp, owlish gaze before off again as they moved in thought. 

Finally, with a decisive nod, they firmly shouted up to him, “…… Milk! Milk and Ink!”

(Seriously did the guy think he was deaf? Though they looked like they’d fit into his boot with room to spare, and he wasn’t exactly short himself.)

A tiny hand lifted into the air, fire in their eyes; “I shall explain!”

“Please don’t.” Lorcan begged.

“Easy Squeak-A-Veak, lets save converting until after we get Boss back to bed for a few hours. We’ve already got orders to meet up with General Soulkeeper in the morning.” Came the beautiful rescue from one of the other officers Lorcan couldn’t put a name to.

Whose hands lifted up immediately in a placating gesture, as the tiny Asura looked ready to implode, “Rephrase, to head over to General Soulkeeper in the morning.”

Small detonation avoided, the medic, nodded with minimal professional sulking, “He’s napping on the way there.”

“As always, you can try small fry, you can try. Eir wanted to see you; I’ll see that Boss gets settled yeah?” Offering a fond amused look, they winked at Lorcan who wasn’t honestly sure what to do with himself at this point of being ‘Boss-shelf’.

Veeck squinted but turned and left with a toddle out of the room. “I know what you’re doing and I don’t appreciate it but yes I will leave and stop scaring our recruit.”

“… Wasn’t scared.” Came late and lamely as the officer chuckled and lead him in to where Zariah was staying for the time being.

Which for the first few moments Lorcan was sure they got the wrong room before he finally spotted a bed past all the paperwork. “Is that a war table?”

“Mini-sized yeah, Rye sleeps in his office, it was the only solution after a long drawn out internal war lemme tell you.”

“How is that a win?”

“He used to do it on a cot armed with a coffee pot, and don’t worry about Veeck. Squeakers is harmless; they get dramatic with displeasure and pain cos it’s like a prayer offering? I think? I’m trying to follow it but I need a few more run throughs. They’re a lot calmer day to day.”

“…….. Oh! Good to know, thanks—ah…”

“You forgot my name already didn’t you.”

“……………………..”

Laughing they helped settle Zariah down and into bed, even tucking them in. Which by this point, Lorcan had one final question.

“…… Sooo, kinda curious. Why he’s not; you know.”

“Twitchy as fleas about being handled like a doll? He usually is, but this is day four of small naps and I made his coffee decaf. He’s out cold for the next three to five hours.”

“Burn me.”

“It’s a good thing, say goodnight if you want; just hit the lights when you're done. I’m catching a few myself before we hit the road.” They offered with a wave before heading out.

Lorcan absentmindedly gave a wave only to perk and try to call out; “Wait! You didn’t--…… tell me your name. Tar’nfeathers.”

Sitting down with a sigh he glanced over at Zariah, and with a crooked grin leaned over. “Night Boss. Still totally going to steal your tiger.”

A brow raised as tired, but amused eyes snapped open, “Still totally not going to let it happen.” Zariah challenged as Lorcan shrieked with a flail and fell off the bed. 

“Burn! Tar! and Feather You!”

Yawning with a final chuckle, Zariah listened to him stalk off and turn out the lights. “Good Night, Lorcan.” 

“Welcome to the family.” 

[velancea]

Velancea: Origins

OKAY so I have a quick, roughly written ‘lore’ thing for Vel! There’s so much more to her, but as of now, I’ll post what I have, along with some tidbits and a bit of Canach x Vel stuff!

under the cut again because, y’know, size

Velancea was born in time to the sylvari personal story in the game. She met Caithe and fought the shadow of the dragon. Her dream remains the same, but varies with the glimpse of a bright-eyed sylvari. She felt a sense of warmth and… home. As she traversed through the dream with Caithe, she felt as though she were being watched by the same eyes she had seen earlier in her dream.

When she emerged from the dream, she found that her pod was actually connected to another. It remained closed, and Serimon had informed her that pods may open at different times of the day. She felt weary leaving the pod behind, but went to find Caithe and explore the Grove, refusing to actually leave the Grove until the pod opened.

A long time went by, and other menders were worried that the sapling within the pod would never emerge - either they would forever be stuck within the dream, or they were dead. Vel, however, never gave up, and continuously visited the unhatched pod. Finally, after a week or so (she’d lost count), the pod opened, and she was met with the face she had seen in her dream. He looked up at her with bright, golden eyes.

The sapling’s name was Remulys, and Vel took him in as her younger brother, and he immediately treasured her as his big sister.

They shared the same dream of the Green Knight, and set off to fight it together.

Velancea continued to bring Remulys along on all of her endeavors, but around the time she joined the Vigil, Remulys began to stick around the Grove more. However, he was content. He told her he was happy staying behind, not wanting to be in her way at all. Vel didn’t quite like that, but things became more busy and she visited the Grove less, and wrote more letters. Unfortunately, even those began to faze out. Still, Remulys remained content, only wanting his beloved sister to succeed. (read Remi’s life here)

Velancea traveled with Trahearne, and to her, he was her mentor. He taught her many things about Orr and the world, and she would listen with rapt attention, always enthralled in his stories. Often times, he took her to that little place in the Grove (before things got too chaotic and they no longer had time to go to the Grove) and nerded out on his lore he learned about Orr and Tyria, and she would just sit there and listen, all bright eyed and eager to learn.

And then the events of Heart of Thorns happened.

While in the jungle, Velancea and Canach entered into a sort of “friends with benefits” situation, always instigated with the words “make me forget.” Velancea had first spoken this to him whilst they were both kept up at night in camp, unable to quiet Mordremoth’s voice as they drew closer. At night, they spent time in each other’s arms, desperate for a moment away from the dragon’s voice, but during the day, it was as though nothing had changed since day one of entering into Maguuma.

After everything ended and Canach and Vel went their separate ways, Velancea turned to alcohol, desperate to numb the pain of Trahearne’s death. Eventually, she was able to clean herself up (mostly after an encounter with a certain someone Canach), and that is when the events of LWS3 begin.

Some lil tidbits

- long ago, she was retrieving an item that had fallen into a body of water. When she grabbed it, she caught sight of a key. Curious, she brought it up to the surface with her. Ever since, she has carried the ornate key with her, using it on every lock she and the team come across (much to their annoyance. it’s become something she has to do and no matter how much the key and lock don’t match, she still does it. It’s priority) for the time being, someone else is the holder of that key

- she has backhanded Braham across the face

- the cattails in her hair are both a blessing and a curse. when needed, she tends to use the fluff inside as a getaway diversion. Unfortunately, there are also times where she could really go without it. There are times during a battle where they get hit and explode in a mass of fluff. Other times, they are sensitive enough to get caught on something and, well, explode. Again - a blessing and a curse

- she only recently discovered Wintersday, and boy was it something. Somehow she had never heard of it or come across it in the past, and so when she went into Divinity’s Reach during it, she became almost akin to a child in a candy store. Taimi was with her and didn’t know what to do, so called for backup from the rest of the guild, who arrived as though it were an emergency. Also, with it being her first Wintersday and actually having the time to discover it, Laranthir gifted her a new hammer (her terracotta antique)

- she and Kas get along fine, but since the beginning of Heart of Thorns, Vel and Marjory haven’t been on the best of terms. She snapped at Marjory after so many remarks about the sylvari, and since then, while they can work together, their relationship is a bit strained

- she’s super curious and easily amused, often leading the group astray a little if she’s not completely focused

- she loves to have fun and joke around, but she often takes on the hard, outer shell persona of the Commander and keeps a lot to herself, which has caused some issues at many times

CaVel

There were several conversations between the two of them during his imprisonment at Vigil Keep when he had been moved there during Scarlet’s attack on Lion’s Arch. While she was the Commander, she was still treated as a bit of a “newbie” in the Vigil (all in good fun). She would be tasked with certain small missions and made to carry out certain chores that had her pass by Canach’s cell. He would always comment on things, and while she tried to remain annoyed and ignore him, she eventually began talking to him and found herself looking forward to being sent down to the cells for a task. One day, she went down to boast about a difficult mission she went on and handled primarily on her own, but he was gone, much to her disappointment.

When he was assigned to accompany the Pact into Maguuma to defeat Mordremoth, things were kept professional, until one night, under the strain of their mission and the roaring voice in their heads, Vel muttered to him “make me forget.” From then to the end of the events of Heart of Thorns, the two were in a sort of “friends with benefits” relationship many nights following either of them telling the other to “make them forget.”

Following the death of Trahearne, Canach knew that Vel was by no means okay, and wanted to come to her aid, but had no choice but to return to Anise.

At some point, Canach was in Divinity’s Reach with Anise, forced to tag along with her as they entered a local pub. It was there that a cloaked figure drunkenly stumbled into him, and he saw that it was none other Velancea, drunk off her ass. Surprisingly enough, she recognized him and greeted him with a bright smile and asked if she could buy him a drink. He politely declined, and instead offered to check her into a local inn. It took some trying, but he finally got her out of there and into an inn, where she continuously tried to throw herself at him in her drunken stupor. It wasn’t until she murmured in his ear “make me forget” that he realized why she was like this and wondered just how long she had been doing this to herself. When he managed to get her to sleep, he was conflicted with staying through the night to keep watch over her or leaving, but ultimately decided that it would be best for him to find and return to Anise.

Their paths never crossed again until the events of LWS3 took place and they met up in the asuran lab. He watched her, noting how stable she seemed to be. Silently, she seemed to tell him that she was okay now, but he still wondered how long she had drowned herself in the comfort of alcohol before cleaning herself up.

As they worked together in the Crystal Desert, Velancea seemed to avoid being too alone with him, as though she feared an inevitable conversation about their personal events back in Maguuma.

I have plans to write about two things for CaVel for pre-all or nothing and post-all or nothing, so hopefully I get the time to write and share them with you all soon! In the meantime, don’t hesitate to ask about Vel or any other of my characters (I’m working writing the lore for my others when I have time!). I am more than happy to answer all! There’s so much I have to share about my kids!