Tumgik
#but thalia is generally very cold in a sense that she's always looking at the bigger picture and she's willing to sacrifice/disregard
swordmaid · 4 days
Text
thalia is so growing on me i love my rich woman who has Problems.. i gave her ice powers for like. the elsa vibes.
#but im like damn... gale...karlach....stay away from her... or else ur gonna explode in the end....#really a coin toss between those two and im gonna be sad at the end but that's the thalia experience 😭😭#also i dont think she's gonna save the tieflings... not bc she's evil but she generally doesn't care... and curing the tadpole is her utmos#priority. like she's already stressed with her chaotic magic killing her if she loses 50/50 now you have to add brain worms on top of that?#funny that shri'iia does more heroic deeds and she's like. the evil aligned chara#but thalia is generally very cold in a sense that she's always looking at the bigger picture and she's willing to sacrifice/disregard#who gets caught in the crossfire.. like that's just another responsibility she has to bear for Her. and she's very the type to sacrifice he#own happiness for her Duty vibe. like i think she's just learned how to be content with whatever she's left with.#also she's her father's heir bc she's the only child to her father's First Wife. and thalia get step siblings along the way but i think tha#grief of losing her mother / becoming an adult/handling adult affairs quickly made her jaded on a lot of stuff#and she feels like it's her responsibility to lead her noble house to higher pastures so her step siblings can live freely#like she's just taking all the work to herself - as the Heir. and that's what she was doing UNTIL she gets the wild magic#now suddenly she feels like she's cursed. and the fact that it's chaotic by nature and so dangerous..!! she can't stay in court or at home#over the fear of harming someone. and she's learnt that to get rid of a problem you always have to go to the root of it#hence why she's travelling around finding more info and source of the wild magic in hopes to cure herself from it#and she kind of put her life on Pause bc she believes she can't get anywhere with this curse. but its like gworl u put ur life on pause lon#before that.. anyway her end goal is that once she cures herself and she's normal again she'll prob marry some other old money heir#set up trusts for her siblings and live a quiet life. but that wont happen obvi hehe#also one of the siblings' name is melpomene... being named from the goddess of comedy thalia is kinda boring lol#essentially her story is like. she learns how to have fun. essentially. depending on how i rp her idk yet actually
2 notes · View notes
starres-stuff · 9 days
Text
Day 10: Stable FFXIV Write 2024
Stable:  a building in which domestic animals are sheltered and fed.
“It is good to see everything has been kept in tip-top condition since my last visit. You have never given me a reason not to trust you, even when I am malms away.” 
It had been several Moons since Viviane had taken a trip to the Jienuex Chocobo Ranch, near Tailfeather in Dravania usually leaving Qih'a to the visits so that he could visit with those who took care of him while he had amnesia. Currently, Vi was chatting with T'halia Lihzeh, the Matriarch of the Lihzeh clan that lived on the ranch and the woman who ran it in her absence. 
“We've had good weather!” The white-haired Miqo’te grinned, there was always a sense of pride in her smiles that gave away just how confident she was in herself and her abilities. 
“Qih'a and the other boys got the roof on that there stable ship-shape when he was out here last Moon. That boy is damn good with a hammer, but then he did learn from me and I'm the best there is.” T’halia pointed her thumbs towards her work overalls and then sneezed; causing her eyes to cross. This brought a musical giggle from Vi’s lips as the Miqote's eyes crossed. 
“It looks wonderful from here, nice and sturdy. Have there been any more leaks since then?” The concern was noticeable in Vi's voice and she worried at her lip slightly. The ranch was the sole generator of House Jienuex Assets now. There used to be other ways that Vi's Mother supported the continuation of the family generational home in Ishgard but when Vi stepped up to Baroness she shut down the often shadier businesses that her Mother had run, in hopes of making an example to others that gil could be made without brothels and criminal activity. 
“Not a single leak, no more cranky Bobo’s; haven't lost a strand of hay we didn't already expect we would. C'mon, let's have a gander. I know a certain red-feathered Chocobo who would love to see you, Baroness.” Thalia, who was much shorter than Vi, crooked her arm and offered it to her to hold, which Vi did without thought. It would not be the first time nor the last. 
“Heard you got married last spring. Two husbands knew you would take after me. When should I expect you to bring them by? Any chances we will see some little ones running about soon?” T'halia turned her head, her one remaining eye winking at Vi. The other had been lost in the same fire that cost Qih’a his as he fought through a burning building to rescue T'halia from within. 
“I am not certain, on either account, honestly. We all have such busy schedules. Clement is a businessman himself, has a focus on growing fruits and vegetables in the cold of Corethas using Greenhouses, he spends a great deal of time opening trade routes through the snows.” Vi's features warmed as she spoke of the Elezen and her eyes twinkled. She admired his dedication to his work immensely. 
“Kovalt on the other hand is what the Gridania's call a Hearer, they can hear the Shroud speak in even the tiniest of plants. He spends alot of time at the Conjurer's Guild and out on duty. Then you have me with my performance career and the bakery. We are three very busy people but we make it work.” The happiness in her voice made T'halia grin again, and her free hand lifted to pat Viviane's thoughtfully. 
“Well don't let being busy stop you from kids, lass. It's my job to remind you, that you need an heir or two to take the mantle from you when it's time and there will be a time.” It was a serious conversation that Vi knew she had to have, but she was nowhere near ready to speak about even with T'halia who she knew most of her life.
Silence enveloped the two women as they walked through the soft grass towards the reconstructed stables, the closer they got the easier it was to see the red feathers amongst the sea of yellow the others created. 
“There she be Baroness.” T'halia of course meant the stable but Vi was already lost to her, a sense of joy appearing in her face. 
“Pandora!” She cried out, the bird swiftly turning her head at the sound of Vi's voice, and a loud “KWEH” erupted from her beak, this caused Vi to let go of T'halia's arm and rush toward the Stable and right inside without even looking at the roof or anything else, even T'halia for that matter. 
“That's right Lady Vi, you already have a daughter don't you.” The Miqo'te chuckled to herself as she moved forward again just in time to see the two hug, Pandora's excited Kwehs and Vi's squeals bringing a smile to her face as she disappeared into the stable to join them. 
6 notes · View notes
redrobin-detective · 3 years
Text
Starlit Vigil
Dannymay Day 4: Stars _____________________________
Everything has a story to it, a tale interwoven into it’s very being from it’s birth to it’s death. Sometimes the mystery of the story is as much a story in and of itself. 
Scientists and researchers can’t say when the constellation first appeared in the night sky. It could be seen above Antarctica, near where the edge of the continent meets the Indian Ocean. It confounded a great many people as stars simply didn’t appear out of nowhere. But these did, slowly over the course of several decades sometimes years apart but two appeared within hours of each other. Each new star, eight in total, had a glistening, almost unnatural twinkle to them. The constellation was named Mnemosyne after the Grecian goddess of memory and the stars eight of her nine daughters, better known as the Muses. 
You’ve always had your eyes turned towards the stars and Mnemosyne in particular had always captured your attention. You can’t really explain what it is about those stars that speak to you. Maybe it’s sheer impossibility of their existence. Perhaps it’s the particular beauty of these stars, sometimes appearing to shift in shape and change colors. Or it could be the story behind the stars, the mystery that couldn’t be solved and so imagination filled in the holes left behind.
They say there was a great king, hundreds of years ago. A king who was powerful and kind and helped create the world as we know it. The land of the dead exists and certain people can interact with those beyond it. Technology and understanding have advanced dramatically and, while no life would ever be perfect, there was a general sense of peace that could felt in this world and the next. This king loved our world so much it’s said he plucked the greatest jewels he could find and placed them in the stars where he could watch over and cherish them forever. It’s a sentiment you can understand. 
You study astronomy in school and when you’re given a chance to travel to the Antarctic Circle to study Mnemosyne, you can’t say yes fast enough. The bitter cold and isolation is a small price to pay to see your favorite constellation up close. Maybe when you see it with your own eyes, you can unravel some of the questions people have been asking over the years. Why the goddess of Memory? Why are the stars named after the Muses but missing the muse of astronomy, Urania? What is the true story behind the supernaturally bright stars that appeared out of nowhere?
It’s hard to sleep during the day, partially because it goes against your normal circadian rhythm but you’re also too excited for night to come. For the stars to come out. You bundle up in the warmest clothes, pack your cameras and notebooks and throw the highest quality telescope you can carry over your shoulder. Arriving at the best site for star gazing, you are so delighted by the clear skies and sparkling stars that it takes you an extra moment to realize that you’re not alone.
At first, you think it’s one of the many researchers conducting studies at the pole but it’s soon apparent that this is someone new. Their hair is stark white, almost appearing one with the blustering wind as it’s blown around. You can’t see what they’re wearing because a thick white cape covers them entirely; it has the consistency of freshly fallen snow. Atop their head floats a crown made of pure, crystalline ice. Your eyes widen behind your protective goggles. The existence of ghosts was common knowledge by now but it’s another thing to see one up close. You turn to leave, before the spirit notices you.
“Don’t leave,” he says quietly but despite the roaring of the wind, you can hear him perfectly clear. “You came to watch the stars too, I don’t mind. Mnemosyne is my favorite.”
“Mine too,” you say back without even thinking. “I would love to know their stories.” The ghost turns to smile at you and his eyes are a bright, glowing green without any pupils or sclera. 
“Come, I’ll tell you about them.” You know you shouldn’t. While most spirits aren’t malicious, this one exudes a power you can’t even imagine. But you find yourself stepping closer anyway. You want to hear the stories of the stars and his smile is the warmest thing you’ll find for miles. Somehow you know this ghost won’t harm you. He points up at Mnemosyne and your twin gazes stare up in wonder. 
“They say souls and stars are made of the same ingredients. When I was a boy, I loved this thought. There was something comforting in knowing that, no matter where I went, that I could carry the stars within me,” the ghost explains, looking at you joyfully. 
“But unlike stars, souls are mortal, impermanent,” he says, his smile turning sad. “So I thought, why not put a soul into a star? Then it could last for eons.” He turns back to the stars with a melancholic expression. “Danielle was the first, my little sister. She was always fragile and after only a decade of life, one day she just broke. Her core was too damaged to become a full ghost so I offered her another way to live on. I took the brightness of her smile and made it into a star, into Euterpe. She was the muse of lyrics and poetry, they say she was the ‘bringer of delight’. It suited Danielle.”
“My enemy died next,” the ghost continues. “He hurt me and, moreover, hurt the ones I loved. But he was the only one who truly understood me. His existence comforted me no matter how much bad blood existed between us. His life was full of misfortune, most of it self-inflicted but his fear of death pulled on my heart. My last move in our battle was to make him a star as well, Melpomene, the muse of tragedy. I put him far away from Danielle, I think he’d hurt her.”
“My parents passed a few decades later,” the ghost whispers. “Mom went first, in her sleep. Dad always followed her example so it wasn’t a surprise when Dad followed her in death before the day was done. They were scientists, I think but they loved me very much. Things were tense, I remember being afraid for some reason but their deaths pained me. They were too fulfilled to become ghosts. I grabbed bits of their essence before it dissipated and made the stars Polyhymnia and Terpsichore, the muses of hymns and dance respectively. They were a perfect couple, partners in everything. A song and a dance, always in time with each other.”
The wind rustles the ghost’s cape, he clutches it as if he is cold. You cannot tear your eyes from the the soft grief on his face. 
“Valerie went next, some sort of illness; I can’t remember the details,” the ghost frowned. “She had no desire to become a ghost, no matter how much I asked her to stay. I am King of All Ghosts and yet I got on my knees and begged for some part of her to keep with me. In the end, I stole a bit of her fading spirit and crafted Calliope, the assertive muse, the author of epic poetry. She shines so brightly up there like she had in life.”
“Jasmine died peacefully in her sleep like our mother. She was always protecting me, even in death. Her devotion to knowledge and my wellbeing kept her by my side for many years but it wasn’t enough to last forever. When her spirit was nothing more than wisps, I took her core and placed Clio with the rest of our family. The muse of history, the proclaimer of great deeds fit my older sister well.”
“Tucker and Sam stayed with me the longest. Tucker went first, a quick death from an aged body followed by years as the playful spirit I always knew him as. Sam, my life and my love, passed the same and was my queen in death as she’d been in life. But love can delay death but not deny it and their spirits needed to move on. I kissed them both, my soulmates and made them into stars. Thalia, the muse of comedy and idyllic poems for the light Tucker brought to me. Erato for Sam, muse of love and its poetry for all that she inspired and gave me.”
You see glowing tears running down his face, he holds his hands out to the night sky. His fingers are curved as if wanting to reach and tenderly brush the faces of people long gone. Only they’re not gone completely. You look at the stars with a newfound appreciation. They are no longer pinpricks of long dead light but people who lived and died and yet still lived on in such beauty. If you look closely, you can almost see them. Brushes of red hair, dark rugged skin, the glint of glasses, a flash of amethyst eyes. 
“There’s no Urania,” you say quietly, the wind tossing them. 
“Not yet,” he says longingly, “but soon. The Zone and the Earth are at peace, they won’t need my protection for much longer. When that happens, my spirit will leave this world and join my loved ones in the stars as Urania.” This ghost has been dead for longer than you’ve been alive, longer than many of your most recent ancestors. But his love can still be felt, still burns high above in the sky for everyone to see. What better eternity is there?
“May I tell their story?” You ask and he only nods in response, not taking his eyes off Mnemosyne. You get the feeling he has forgotten about you, caught up in the light of his loved ones shining down on him, waiting. All at once, you realize how late it is, how cold. You leave to return to the research shelter, to write the history of the miracle constellation. 
The stars made out of souls, crafted by love.
Twelve years later, you are not surprised when you look up and see a ninth star in the constellation of Mnemosyne. It glows brightly, twinkling with the other muses as if in conversation. You can only smile through your tears, so profoundly happy that Urania’s lonely vigil is finally over and they have assumed their rightful place among the stars. 
128 notes · View notes
scarletgardensrpg · 4 years
Photo
Tumblr media
LIVING ♦ THIRTY-FIVE ♦ HOUSE OF EDEN
KAZIMIR WOJCZIK is the Prime Minister’s current Senior Advisor, referred to by most as simply “Doctor” for his rehabilitation practices, which have raised the House of Eden a formidable army of Undead soldiers, many of whom he personally recruits and trains. As a high-ranking member of the House, Kazimir holds the rare privilege of traveling in and out of Amsterdam on recruitment missions, accompanied by House Resurrectors Julian and Neeve.
BIOGRAPHY
tw: corpses, scapels/needles, implied child abuse, implied suicide
Come here, Lady Wojczikowa said, and waited until her apprentice finally crept closer to her. She put her hand to the small of the young boy's back, perhaps so Kazimir would not move away again. Look, mój drogi, do you see? Unwillingly, Kazimir slid his gaze to the table before them, to what—who—lay upon it. Today, it was a girl, no older than Kazimir himself. Earlier, he'd heard snippets of conversation upstairs, exchanged in murmurs between Lady Wojczikowa and the girl's family. Wolves. Torn to pieces. Nothing salvageable. In the dim, sickly glow of the basement lights, Kazimir had to agree. Lady Wojczikowa, who often studied him while he studied the corpses, made a sound of disapproval. Nie bądź niegrzeczny, she snapped, and Kazimir flinched, half-ashamed and half-afraid. The dead were once just like us. And in time, we all become just like the dead. Now hand me the scapel.
- ❀ -
His keeper, the Lady Wojczikowa, was a skilled mortician and known wariatka; the sort of pale-faced, cadaverous creature one might find dancing barefoot by the Solokiya, or singing nonsensically to the dead, or robbing cradles like a mad witch of night. It was said that Kazimir, her apprentice-son, was one such case—though from which cradle he was taken, not one person in their village could say. He resembled nothing and no one, all milky white skin and almond eyes, but looked as all children of winter did in other ways: too thin, too rough, bearing the sharp, beady features of someone perpetually braced against impact. His keep—two meals a day, a bed in the attic, and one hundred złotys a week—was earned by working with his mother. Sometimes the bodies they carried in were elderly; those who had passed on in their sleep, or found their bodies succumbing at last to a lifetime of cigarettes and bone-aching cold. Other times, it was the battered bodies of wives and daughters, every bruise a violent, haunting sorrow. Worst of all was when it was children: stillborns, urchins who never stood a chance, orphans left to fend again disease and starvation in a village rife with both. Kazimir, under his mother's careful instruction, had become adept in all arts of embalment by sixteen, but could not often separate himself from the very bodies he cut and cleaned, drained and painted with cosmetics. When Lady Wojczikowa showed him how to push a needle in, Kazimir felt the bite of metal under his own skin. Carotid, axillary, brachial, he rehearsed, though he already knew anatomy like intimate clockwork. Femoral, ulnar, radial, tibial.
In youth, Kazimir had been ugly and strange—a knobby, underfed thing with a crow's scavenger gaze and the unsettingly tendency to linger in doorways like a child phantom. But in burgeoning adulthood, he grew into a strong jaw, ebony hair, deep red lips: and in possessing such a harrowing, odd strain of beauty, instilled more fear than love in those who found him desireable. Eventually, Lady Wojczikowa, who so adored the dead it bordered on lunacy, died herself: her waifish body carried down by the icy currents of the Solokiya, a pair of wooden shoes left by the riverbank. No note, no will, no body. It was as if she'd never existed at all. When Kazimir left for school, it was with the intention of never returning. And yet, at Oxford, he had stuck out like a smudge of dark in a kingdom of light: for whatever life it was that so afflicted his university classmates, in all their expensive suits and watches, their ten-year plans and generational wealth and material fantasies, it could not have possibly afflicted Kazimir. He, who shared his house with the dead, who knew exactly what it felt like to cut a human open at his navel, who could think of nothing else when it got late enough: no, he suffered a different sickness. So when the rotbeesten arrived, legions of them cutting a scarlet path westward, and the world descended into madness, Kazimir felt nothing more than a sense of quiet wash over him. A sense that, madness be damned, something made sense at last. The dead, who seemed to terrify all, felt like kin to him instead. Were they so different from the hundreds of bodies he'd bathed and cared for? Had he not brushed their hair, arranged blooms in their caskets, studied them for stretches of hours in a basement in southern Poland? Were they not, in fact, old friends come to say hello once more?
Eventually, though he would not have preferred it, they found him in Warsaw. Agostina, tight-lipped and wan, asking in broken Polish: Thalia mówi że możesz je wyleczyć? Kazimir shrugging: Thalia says a lot of bullshit. Oni mnie lubią. And Nikolaas, handing him the vial of crushed blood lilies, which gleamed like powerdered rubies in the light. Apocalypse had originated from this vial, Kazimir knew. Barberini, van Houten, even little Yamaguchi: blood was smeared on the hands of all three of them. Now, if he agreed, it would be four. Do your best, Doctor, Nikolaas said into the silence. The creature is downstairs. All the world hangs onto your efforts. We certainly do. It was a cheap attempt at flattery, Kazimir thought, but it might've also been true. The dead liked him. Maybe because he smelled a little like them, sweet and chemical and heavy; or maybe because he had always harbored a little death within himself—that dark spark, which spoke of an empyrean wilderness Lady Wojczikowa must have sowed in him. He was a ponury żniwiarz: a harbinger of death as much as a decorator of it. The creature—it—she said her name was Kisara, Agostina said suddenly, and almost sounded sorry. Kazimir pocketed the vial. Take me to Kisara, then, he said.
CONNECTIONS
SASHA – THE GIRL FROM THE MOUNTAIN.  She had come to him in a blaze of light: clear-eyed, sun-skinned, the corner of her pretty mouth pulled permanently into a smirk. Вийди з мого погляду, she'd tease, knowing he couldn't understand her, and shove him hard enough against the Carpathian rock that he'd push away from it with scraped hands. He'd never met anyone so alive. The Solokiya, before it became the place of Lady Wojczikowa's death, was first where Kazimir met her: she, who spoke a different language from him, who refused to give her name, who mocked him endlessly by laughter and touch alone. The river which divided Poland from Ukraine also divided them; so that he only ever saw her once, twice—every occasion something rare and to be treasured. He would carry the sound of her voice in his heart for years after: two children deep in the woods, making baleful faces at one another, too young to act bashful and too stupid to understand it was love. Kazimir never imagined meeting Sasha again, and sometimes, he wishes he hadn't at all. She has grown into unspeakable beauty—but every searching look she sends his way pierces him. For all her prowess and strength, he can sense the ribbon of sorrow that runs through her. Where once she tore through forests with him in ferocious joy, she now only floats, a rootless phantom. Julian may have pulled her from the ice and given her a new life, but Kazimir knows just how much was left behind: a language, a name, a warmth. 
AGOSTINA, NIKOLAAS, & THALIA – FOUR HORSEMEN. The problem with power is, always, that it corrupts. And here were three figures drenched in it, endless and obscene: a politician seated at the apex of her pyramid, a manic doctor gone to raise new hell, and an heiress to crime whose beguiling face concealed something far uglier deep down. Kazimir understands why he has earned a place among these creators and destroyers of history: a gift for fishing the needle of humanity out from the frozen waters of every soul they've brought before him. And yet, he cannot share in any other piece of their ambitions and obsessions—for they play war games and chase divinity, spilling whoever's blood they need to in the red streets of Amsterdam. Kazimir does not. Nonetheless, he will raise them their army, even as he does not crave the way they do. Call it misplaced loyalty, call it sadistic spectating, call his willingness to indulge in their nightmares a bad habit picked up from a lifetime spent listening to the instruction of a madwoman—even Kazimir himself doesn't know what to diagnose his passivity. All the same, he knows the four of them will remain tied to one another no matter their paths, as all gods of the same pantheon are forced to exist within the same mythology. 
JULIAN & NEEVE – HEAVEN AND HELL. To attain salvation, one would need to go through either he or them. This is law. More often than not, the Undead are treated by him, clinically delivered closer and closer to consciousness with every dose of PM-GRNT 197 injected into their bloodstream—but those who display, ah, potential may be offered a second path. Hellish Buchanan and ethereal Bishop: they are the twin overseers of life and death who accompany Kazimir wherever Agostina sends him, burdened with the rarest and most terrible gift of all. Resurrection. The Hague, the ruins of Eastern Europe and Central Asia, islands and mountains, even the occasional gala event Kazimir finds himself forced to attend, all protestations ignored: Julian and Neeve have acted as his second and third shadow through it all, steadfast as Death itself. He would find the constant company annoying, if they weren't so entertaining to observe—one with a heart steeped in ten feet of ice, the other chipping away at it with excrutiating precision. Maybe he's a little fond of them. He tries his best not to show it. 
OPEN ♦ FC: QI JUNKAI
1 note · View note
ronannott · 5 years
Text
❧ he is a boy made of smoke — a soldier, a weapon, a wound in motion ❧
Tumblr media
❝ He’s the same on the field as he is everywhere else. Strong. Graceful. Fucking ruthless. ❞ JORDAN BOLGER? No, that’s actually RONAN NOTT. A SIXTH YEAR student, this GRYFFINDOR student is sided with the DEATH EATERS. HE identifies as a CIS MAN and is a PUREBLOOD who is known to be STUBBORN, UNTRUSTING, and WRATHFUL but also DRIVEN, RESOURCEFUL, and COURAGEOUS. { JANE, 22, NZT, SHE/HER }
aloha this is ronan (and jane again, which is just embarrassing) and he is... Something™
he has a pinterest here
ronan is the eldest of two children of theodore nott and isolde montague; he was born three years before his sister, but their current age gap is... a little more complicated
[ emotional abuse tw ] // theodore nott was always a hard man. rigid and cold, with expectations. he was never as good a teacher as he believed, always expecting more from his children than he was capable of teaching them, and yet never letting up. their inability to reach his expectations was not the fault of his teaching —- it was always, always on them. ronan pushed himself to be better, to fulfil under his father’s tutelage, and when it became evident that his father’s expectations exceeded his father’s capabilities, ronan pursued things privately —- upon arriving at hogwarts, seeking out thalia rookwood for personal training, but even prior to that, conducting his own study, spending his own time seeking to please his father. it was never quite enough, but sometimes theodore looked like it almost was, and ronan lived for those moments of reprieve.
[ experimentation tw, kidnapping tw, just generally despicable actions warning ] // theodore nott had always hated vampires. all part-humans, really, but vampires were a special abomination in his eyes —- that which was human, was alive, and then turned into something other. a corpse walking. death made flesh. a monster pretending to be a person. theo had always been one for experimentation, someone who enjoyed exploring old magical texts and following their alchemical recipes, but it was when his children were younger that he finally got his hands on certain dark texts (ones which would make aleister crowley’s beliefs look saint-like) and took the next step: no longer would he experiment on materials, but finally, on vampirism itself. of course, you can’t attack a concept without knowing what it’s made of. you can’t destroy a disease without curing the sick. and for that... you need the sick.
[ emotional abuse tw ] it took him a while to graduate to it, beyond his theoretical writings, but eventually, he began capturing and experimenting on vampires. the cellar was his domain, and his children dared not challenge that authority. besides, they had their own studies to do —- memorising military strategy from historical battles for ronan, reciting the properties of magical plants for eithne, and every distraction that kept theo down there was one more thing standing between them and his punishing gaze roving over and over them, finding faults in areas they already believed picked bone-dry. [ end experimentation/kidnapping tw ]
this was the way things were. their mother, isolde, was present and loving but not strong —- something about her had always seemed fragile, delicate, but that was okay. their father was strong. it was okay if their mother was soft, because their father was strong enough to keep her safe. and if their father was getting more distracted, spending more time downstairs, well, that was okay too, because he’d trained ronan and eithne, hadn’t he? they could protect her. and he was still there, of course; his presence was permanent, constant, and it was a relief for him to be downstairs, because as much as his children loved him, they were suffocated by him too. [ end emotional abuse tw ]
[ torture tw, experimentation tw, murder tw, death tw, parental death tw, violence tw, attack tw, kidnapping tw, just generally despicable actions warning ] one night, it all changed. it was the winter of ronan’s fifth year, and he was sixteen. eithne was a second year, and still twelve. she was the one in the library that night, nearest the door to the cellar. in every other respect, the night was the same as any other. only this time —- one of theodore’s subjects escaped. it’s a blur for ronan. he remembers his father hoarsely shouting his name — and running running running — and the door to the cellar open — his father’s throat ripped out — someone—-something—-crouched over eithne, drinking hungrily, greedily, desperately, and then looking up — mournful eyes, furious and desperate and guilty and a thousand other things ronan didn’t know how to decipher — and then they hurled themselves out the window and ran into the night.
ronan doesn’t remember much of that night after those flashes. he knows he went down to the cellar, to his father’s sanctuary, and found devices that made him feel nauseous in ways he wasn’t sure he’d ever be rid of. he found cauldrons and flasks, labels and meticulous notes in his father’s precise handwriting. ink is stark on parchment, standing bright against the page, and the words burned through his mind. he could barely process it, but he processed enough to understand what it was that had attacked eithne, what it was that had killed his father——what it was that his father had done. [ end tws ]
there was blood in some of the flasks, and grabbing the only ones labelled as ‘clean’, he rushed back up the stairs to give them to his sister. there was blood, so much blood, and his mother was there — when did she get there? — and she was crying, wailing, something cracked as she saw her husband’s body and screamed. and ronan? he went into soldier mode. evaluate the risks. save those who can be saved. use any resources at your disposal. he used essence of dittany to staunch the flow of eithne’s blood, refusing to think about how deathly pale she looked, and moved her to her bedroom, before floo-calling his uncle arthur, who worked with the department of law enforcement. arthur, his mother’s brother, surveyed the scene, and then sent ronan to take care of his mother and calm her down, saying that he would ‘handle everything’.
and handle it he did. he never asked about eithne, and ronan didn’t tell him anything, fearing subconsciously what arthur might expect him to do, but when ronan came down later, it was to a few kindly looking officials asking him about the attack, if he’d seen the vampire at all, how very very sorry they were about this attack, if he had any idea how the vampire had gotten past the wards, if there was any reason why the vampires might have targeted his home— .... if it wasn’t so overwhelming, ronan might have corrected them without thinking, but as it was, his training kicked in, in combination with the effects of the events of the night, and he stayed quiet — numb — answering minutely, in shock, with all the uncertainty of a teenage boy who has no idea how to fathom everything he’s experienced the last few hours.
the upshot is this: his father is dead, at the hands of a vampire whom he tortured, by the looks of what ronan finds in his notebook; his sister is a vampire, and there’s nobody they can ask for help, nobody who they trust to keep their secret, and so they must try hazard it out on their own; his mother loses some of herself that night too, dying in the attack alongside his father’s whole self & his sister’s ability to breathe, and ronan doesn’t know how to keep her together by himself.
so he asks theodore’s brother, edward, to move in. edward nott is an experimenter like his brother, fascinated by history and magic and the intersection of both, in old alchemical texts and the applications he can find, but he is interested in the nature of magic, and he has no use for his brother’s cellar of horrors. he’s scatter-brained, absolutely, and has no pragmatic tendencies, but he’s the nott patriarch now, and his presence keeps prying questions away.
the public story is: theodore nott was attacked by a vampire for his anti-vampire rhetoric, and the trauma of viewing the attack has left eithne nott reluctant to return to hogwarts, and has instead opted to be home-schooled. the rumours are: eithne nott had a breakdown about her father’s attack, and is now practically a squib, the poor thing, no wonder the notts keep her home, imagine the shame— the truth is neither of these things, but they are both much better to be believed, as far as the notts—ronan, really, because ronan is the one in charge now, even though he’s a teenager, even though he’s lost his father and practically his mother too, because he’s the only one left, and someone has to hold everyone else up, right?—are concerned. and so ronan does not speak against the rumours, simply trains with thalia, even harder than ever, and dedicates himself more to becoming what his father wanted, because he knows, deep in his heart, that saving eithne was a weakness his father would never forgive.
[ emotional abuse tw ] ( he has a complicated thought process about it, and it’s all due to his father’s teaching. he cannot help but think of it as a weakness, as him not being strong enough to do what his father taught, and to kill the monster before she became a monster, not when she wore his sister’s face —- but the flipside of that is that in his weakness, he gave her a chance, and that chance showed him that, for all the differences between the eithne she is now and the eithne she was before, there are all the more things that have stayed the same. and so he has this warring sense inside himself, of thinking himself weak for sparing his sister because he knows his father would not have, and—treasonously, perhaps, which explains for the guilt which accompanies the stubborn defiance of this thought, contrary as the two emotions may be—thinking he was right to do so. there’s a lot to unpack there, because his father’s teachings are so drummed into his and eithne’s heads, and there is guilt at the defiance even as the defiance exists, there is believing it was a weakness as well as believing in its rightness, and i think one day he’ll unravel that. for her part, eithne has very complicated thoughts on her father too. she resents him for what happened to her, for what he did which allowed this to happen to her, but she feels guilty for that too, because he died in that attack, and she loves him, just like ronan did, and she doesn’t know if it’s disloyal to resent him for what happened. she’s forever twelve, visually, and that’s something she doesn’t have words to explain her grief and fury over, but emotionally speaking, she’d only just be turning fourteen in july, and she is in no way equipped to handle the tangled emotions she has wrt her father and her vampirism. ronan throws himself into becoming what his father wanted (or has, for now) as a way to process his grief and his guilt, especially because he cannot regret saving his sister, and eithne tries to dispel her emotions by wrecking things in the manor. eventually, i think, they’ll both come to terms with it, or at least confront the truth of what their father was and what that means to them, but for now: they are young, and grieving a man they do not know how to believe in anymore, and also the people they could have been. ) [ end tw ]
it’s kinda funny, in a way that isn’t comedic at all, how theodore would have never given eithne the chance ronan did, because as far as ronan can tell, she’s much more like him than ronan ever was. ronan was moulded by him, but he learned military strategy; eithne’s the inquisitive one, who’s always had the desire to see how things fall apart and fit together, though ronan is sure in every bone of his being that she’d never experiment the way theodore did. sometimes when eithne’s angry, she gets that exact same stormy look in her eyes that theodore did, and it’s all ronan can do not to flinch. he’s learning to see it as eithne’s expression, though, and not a ghost of his father. it’s slow-going, but he’s learning, because the last thing he wants is for eithne to look at herself and see her father, because love always came with something hard with their father, and for the first time, the two of them are really discovering what love looks like without conditions. his father is in the way he thinks—-the way he’s been trained to think, with years of studying strategies—-and fights and duels, and he feels his echoes in everything he does, but it’s in eithne he sees his father, and he loves and hates those moments in equal measure. the one thing that the vampirism and his father’s passing did for the siblings that ronan does not regret is that it showed them how much they mattered to each other —- ronan had always loved his sister, but it wasn’t until her turning and the fact that he did ( and still does ) all he can to save and protect her that really showed them how much they mean to each other. his father was his hero, but he loved his sister just as much as he loved him, and he couldn’t hurt her, not even with all their father’s words in his head, and he wouldn’t let anyone else hurt her either, and that meant everything to her. whatever else, the nott siblings would do anything for each other, and now they know it.
the past summer was especially integral for figuring out how they were moving forward. it had been some six months since eithne’s turning, but it was the first time since the winter solstice when his father died that ronan had been present for a long stretch of time ( given the shortness of easter break ). three months together, to figure things out, and ronan spent most of his time with his mother and sister, or trying to read up on things about vampirism, even delving into his father’s notebooks for any information which could help eithne. when he wasn’t doing that, he was training harder than ever before, or sorting out practical matters, like finances.
when it was time to return to hogwarts, he was incredibly reluctant to leave his sister and mother, but there was something undeniably relieving about it —- he’d been going stir-crazy, and it was what set him to try out for gryffindor beater. he’d played quidditch before, in his youth and in the summers, but he’d never felt any need to try out for the team —- nor is he sure he’d have been accepted to it, given the amount of talent the team had always possessed, and it was only this year with openings in beater position that he considered it —- until now; with all his focus going into his sister and his trainings with thalia, and the classes he’d always valued with his father, he needed some other outlet, something to call his own. he was a natural fit for beating —- not only in the physicality, but the inherent protectiveness of the role. not that he’d ever considered his other teammates people he’d generally protect, but he’d been in the role of protector for eithne for so long that it felt surprisingly natural to fit into it in other spheres, even for irritating people such as lily potter. on a broom, politics and personality didn’t matter, not really.
until, well. the war hit. ronan’s montague cousins had largely been involved earlier —- aurelia, tbd* and tristan, particularly —- but ronan himself had been left mostly alone, given everything with his family. it was known to some of the death eaters that he trained with thalia, and given his father’s death at the hands of a vampire and the effect it had on his sister, it was widely assumed he’d want revenge against part-humans, especially with some of his cousins vouching for it, and so he was left alone until the deaths on halloween. and then — expectations were expectations, and ronan knew what his father would want. moreover, he knew being the perfect soldier would help keep attention on him, and not thinking so much about his sister, and how nobody had seen her for a long time. it wasn’t that he didn’t believe, exactly —- it was what he was taught, after all, and it was only within the last year that he’d had a reason to have a crisis of faith wrt his father’s teachings on the vampire front, let alone everything else that had been in the world... though, his father had always been more concerned with creature status than blood status, though he did tend to be slightly more patient with purebloods than others, in part because he tended to know them or their families —- it was more that his decision-making process was focused primarily with his sister and the family reputation, and had not managed to detach itself from the weight of his father’s expectations.
ronan mostly spends his time at death eater meetings with thalia, who’s been a mentor for him for a long time --- there’s a sort of reputation there, about rookwood and nott, that they’re two who can get something done. he’s not as vicious as odilia travers, but he’s no less physical, and he’s a soldier first and foremost. 
[ kidnapping tw ] his opinion on the taking of lily potter is... complicated. it’s not so much about who it happened to as how it happened. he's a soldier, and that was a covert act, a sneaky one, an unfair fight? and he knows deception, he practices in... not deception so much as i guess trying to hide things, with his sister, and his mother and uncle and even some elements of his father's legacy, like trying to keep the notts afloat (i suppose pragmatically rather than any other way —- money's fine, he's not got to worry about that — though i do think theo's experiments were costly, but they can manage — but it's more that his uncle is not practical, and not particularly interested in being helpful, he's scattered and too focused on his experiments (thankfully less sharp, less inhumane than theo's, more about the nature of magic), and isolde was never especially a strong personality but has certainly deteriorated since the attack, so ronan's just been the only one focusing on it all), but those are a very different thing from... the sheer sneakiness and unfairness of a kidnapping, i guess. like he is a gryffindor, and there are some things —- sometimes you do what you have to, in war, but kidnapping a teenage girl (especially one like —- as frustrating as she can be, she's also still a face he knew every day? he remembers what she looked like at eleven?) is, idk, it's a factor, i guess. there’s a skewed sense of honour at play there, similar to how he made the choice to keep protecting eithne, to do anything to keep her alive, even if she’s technically dead —- ( i think for most of his life --- and probably at sorting, then --- he thought he was loyal to causes and groups first, because nothing made him doubt it? but now he knows he's loyal to people more than a cause, but even with that, he's loyal to the right person over the wrong one when it comes to the people he loves, like loyalty to eithne wins out over loyalty to theo, and i don't think it's that he loves her more than he loved his father, i think it's about... when it's between the people he loves, he can't choose there so then he goes to the next process, which in his head was maybe what his father would have called weakness but i think came down to... which was the right one to go with? even if he doesn't realise/wouldn't frame it that way? ) i also don’t think ronan realises the kidnapping not sitting right is due to that skewed version of honour (or i guess it's a straightforward honour type that's been skewed by the framing he was taught) or if he thinks it's another like... element of weakness? but i think he recognises it's different to the eithne situation, i just don't know if he's cognisant that it's like... idk, why it mattered that it was unfair? or if he recognises that it reminds him of what his father was doing, or if he's consciously not realising that/subconsciously avoiding it (even as he subconsciously is aware of it on some level, because it contributes to the feeling)? because a big aspect of how her taking sits with him is absolutely how it reminds him of what his father did, because that’s an awful thing to do to people, especially now that he’s more sure that vampires really are more like people, no matter what his father said, because he can see it in eithne, and then he thinks about it happening to eithne, and his mind sort of --- shuts it all down, in order to compartmentalise it, but it bleeds over, and it’s honestly a bit triggering for him, but i really don’t think he’s cognisant of that
he’s big on physical and duelling training, and has been seeking out a lot of stuff about that himself, and with thalia’s help. dada is probably his best subject, followed by transfiguration. fire & smoke, these are his areas, especially smoke —- the aftermath of a fire, the thing that fills a house burned to its bones, something deadlier than fire, even if it’s never shining as bright. he’s a hard worker, but it’s a learned behaviour more than it is inherent. a product of his childhood, really. he’s always loved history, but he’s not sure if he would if he’d discovered it by himself? as it was, his father taught him history, made him study it, and it’s part of the foundation of his life, but he doesn’t know what his relationship to history would look like if you took his father out. his fury is like his father’s too, odd as it may seem —- his father has always been cold, and there’s an inherent warmth to ronan, and fire does not burn in ice, but there’s something there, in how consuming it can be. theodore’s fury and hatred was all-consuming. i’m really hopeful that ronan’s won’t consume him —- that he won’t lose himself to it. he’s dedicated and determined, and absolutely resourceful. when he was sixteen and grieving and traumatised, he swallowed his bile and bucked up his courage and rooted around his father’s cellar, using everything at his disposal to try figure out what could be used to help eithne. he has a lot of secrets, a lot of things he keeps to himself out of necessity, and i think there’s something lonely in that sometimes. there are parts of himself he can’t share with anyone, not even his sister, so he has to swallow them down and hope they never escape. before it all, he was focused, but he always had a tendency towards quick retorts when his temper was stung and withering looks in classrooms. nowadays, he’s slightly more reticent, a bit more careful with his words, but there’s grief and rage that wasn’t there before, things from the last year and a half only, and they are a bleeding edge in his mouth, and sometimes they come out. he isn’t cruel for sport, and he isn’t one to go after people for entertainment, but he has never been much good at backing down when incited to a fight ( he’s learning—-or trying—-but it’s a hard habit to break ) and when he’s furious, he doesn’t much care about the destruction his words or actions could wreak. as long as it doesn’t hurt his sister.
character parallels: diego hargreeves, the umbrella academy — this bears explaining, probably. wrt theodore’s parenting style, there’s a general sense of parallel to the hargreeves, i think, in that theodore is cold and expectant, and isolde is nurturing, if not a particularly strong personality. diego comes into play in a few ways: at his core, diego adores his mother and is immensely protective of his siblings, even if sometimes he’s an asshole —- that’s pretty solidly ronan wrt isolde & especially eithne; there’s the physicality, the fighting ability, which ronan and diego both share; and, although he’s not there yet, eventually ronan’s mindset regarding his father will shift to something closer to diego’s. right now it’s closer to luther’s, as a product of emotional abuse and desperately craving his father’s love, approval & pride, but it’s something he’s been grappling with since the night eithne turned, and eventually resentment will win out over guilt, and recognition over that blind love. i just hope he doesn’t lose himself in it. i think ronan will always love his father—-even if he shouldn’t, i think it’s too entrenched in part of him to ever shake out completely—-but i think he’s certainly coming to a time where, while he might eventually forgive him (he also might not—-i’m genuinely unsure here), he’ll never be able to buy into him or endorse him again. it’s a pretty shattering realisation he’s coming to, because theodore was his hero, undeserving of the title as he may be, but it is one that is coming nonetheless. ; bellamy blake (the 100) — his love for octavia is the big thing, but i think there’s also something to be said for how emotionally ruled he can be, and how he makes bad decision after bad decision (in season one) but his motivations are always understandable and his heart is in the right place --- and when he chooses to lead, he leads. [ murder tw ]there’s also a line in the novel when bellamy catches his mother, aurora, trying to suffocate octavia, and he stops her, but aurora says like... ‘you can have a sister or a mother. you can’t have both.’ and that’s also pretty fitting with this dichotomy of theodore and eithne --- he can live up to his father’s expectations, or he can believe in his sister’s humanity, but the two are mutually exclusive [ end tw ] ; rhys (seven black diamonds) — again, rhys is notable for his protection of his sister, but he’s also a supreme soldier. he’s the best fighter other than maybe his mother (whom he is also v protective of), and family and duty mean everything to him, and it’s an interesting conflict when those two things begin to contradict each other.
13 notes · View notes
Note
Luke/Tori for the ship ask please?
thanks for being so patient! i got carried away and then stuck bc i got carried away lol and i’ve also just been busy bc grad school lmao ;_;
here it is finally! under a cut as per my yuzh
who hogs the duvet
luke, bc he’s just a cold human being. lol not like in his heart or soul, but his body runs colder than most, so he’s chilled like all the time
if he’s not acting like an octopus, he’s hogging the duvet. tori doesn’t mind a whole bunch, since she runs warm (thanks apollo), but sometimes, on really cold nights (heating is so expensive and if they can keep it off, they will), it’s v annoying so she’ll forcefully pull the duvet back, which forces luke to turn into an octopus
who texts/rings to check how their day is going
i’d say tori is. she worries a lot abt luke, esp bc he can kinda hole up inside his mind when he’s having a tough time
those little text alert noises and rings are actually quite comforting for luke. he appreciate them a lot, which he’d never say out loud, but he doesn’t need to since they can read each other pretty well
who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts
you might be surprised, but luke actually is. it comes from his creativity for pranks
who gets up first in the morning
tori does! thanks apollo, but only during the summer lmao
it’s super bad in the summer too, bc the days are longer and it gets light around 4 or 5 in the morning lol
but tori generally gets up with the sun (thanks apollo), so during the winter she gets up later than in the summer and luke is generally up before her
who suggests new things in bed
i mean, honestly both of them do!
tori does more often, but luke will if it’s been a long day, and an even longer night bc either/or both of them can’t sleep bc of nightmares or what have you
wait, i’m just realizing this might be a sexual question??? lmao, i read it like one of those philosophical talks you have with your best friend at sleepovers at 3am (same energy anyway)
well, if it is a sexual question (i’m honestly not sure, my ace brain is seriously just That ace), i would say neither of them, honestly
like they’ve been through so much in their lives. role-play doesn’t do it for them. tori hates being held down/restrained, and they’ve both incurred enough injuries from monsters for a lifetime so bdsm is also out
they’re also both tops, so that complicates things sometimes, but “““““vanilla””””” sex is fine for them
who cries at movies
lol tori does. no question.
who gives unprompted massages
luke, for sure. and tori loves it
but tori will sometimes do so if she sees luke’s stressed and tense
who fusses over the other when they’re sick
totes luke, he turns in to like a mother hen (but don’t tell him i told you that) and worries over tori whenever she gets sick
obvi tori takes care of luke when he’s sick, but luke’s the one to really go those extra 500 miles
who gets jealous easiest
lmao, can’t choose on that one bc both of them get supremely jealous
it doesn’t help that luke is bi and tori is biromantic, so anyone is technically fair game and they’re both very good-looking ppl
who has the most embarrassing taste in music
tori! she’s a hopeless romantic, and so like all those cheesy, gooey love songs and will listen to them all day every day
and i mean i wouldn’t strictly classify that as “embarrassing” per se, but that’s the best answer i have for ya
who collects something unusual
hmmm, luke.
you could argue most things are “unusual” to collect, but luke collects journals filled with entries. like he fell out of it after thalia, and then that whole thing happened with kronos lol, but after that (this is the everybody lives!au if you couldn’t tell) he picks it back up again
so he just has stacks of journals, all filled, many from tori–its therapeutic and he finds it’s something he actually quite enjoys. in the quiet of his shared bedroom with tori, of course
who takes the longest to get ready
not really either of them. i mean, i guess tori just bc if she wants to do something with her hair, it takes longer
but tori doesn’t wear a lot of makeup to begin with, and just as well she doesn’t have to try That hard to look nice (thanks apollo)
luke is already good-looking, and even tho he doesn’t have any divine blessing, he doesn’t have to do a lot to look good either
who is the most tidy and organised
luke, he hates clutter
he can’t think, and it only reminds him of the crowded hermes cabin
who gets most excited about the holidays
tori, bc she’s making up for all she missed out in childhood
luke indulges her bc he’s secretly making up for all he missed out in childhood, but he often doesn’t like expressing he’s excited for the holidays, except for quietly when he’s in the privacy of his and tori’s apt. he doesn’t mind showing tori how much he’s enjoying himself
who is the big spoon/little spoon
they switch constantly
tori loves being the little spoon, but so does luke. even if tori is kinda tiny lol
when it’s cold at night and luke is hogging the blankets but tori is still warm enough, but her nose gets cold, she’ll roll over and press her nose into luke’s back to share what little warmth he can give her. he’ll often reach back for her arm and she’ll put it around him, lacing her fingers with his, letting her hand rest against his chest, where his heart is
more often then not tho, tori is the little spoon bc luke has turned into an octopus seeking warmth at night
who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports
like the jealousy thing, they both do
you don’t want them on opposite sides
likewise, you don’t want them together, bc they’ll pulverize you
so it’s really lose-lose either way
who starts the most arguments
oh man, i mean i guess both of them
they’re both worried abt each other’s safety, so that’s mostly what they argue abt
tori probably starts them a little more often, if only bc luke often jumps in front of her when they’re in danger just out instinct and before tori can jump in front of him, which annoys her
not just bc she can take care of herself, but also bc luke does so with reckless abandon and she doesn’t like that he could potentially be wounded/hurt/killed bc he was protecting her
who suggests that they buy a pet
tori, but only bc they were passing a pet shop one day and she noticed luke’s eyes lingering on one of the kittens inside that had taken a liking to luke
it was december, so v cold. and they were on their way back to their apt when they passed a pet shop
and as they’re passing, one of the kittens leaps up and paws at the window, following the couple as they continue pass
this catches luke’s attention, and he finds the little kitten’s persistence endearing as they walk past
the kitten’s also meowing, but obvi they can’t hear it. luke can see it tho bc its little mouth keeps moving
even tho luke insists it’s okay if they don’t get the kitten, tori drags him inside anyway and they go to the pen, and the little kitten is waiting for them on the other side
it’s a calico and it’s not until they’re inside that they notice this little kitten’s eye is injured on its right side (bc of glare from the window outside)
luke is only able to stare, too in shock to really move or think, but tori picks up the mewling ball of fluff and coos at it. then she holds it out for luke to take. and he’s hesitant at first, bc its so small and fragile, but tori gently coaxes it into his arms. and he rests it on his shoulder and it falls asleep, the precious bby
luke panics at that, though, bc he doesn’t know what to do lol. tori is not help, she just laughs and smiles at him
one of the workers goes over to them then and says that injured animals are always tough to sell, so tori, of course, immediately says they’ll buy this kitten
anyway, her official name is jiji, but her nickname is kitty bc that’s what luke referred to her as when they first brought her home and it kinda stuck.
what couple traditions they have
idk if this qualifies as a “tradition” per se, but, since we’re in the everyone lives!au, this is also the au where luke surprises tori with a song for her b-day one yr
and so after that their “i love you” turns into, “did i mention?”
after long days/after a monster attack while they’re out trying to be normal, and after they’ve cleaned up and are relaxing in bed, they’ll softly sing duets together (since luke can sing now lol; also from linked post). but tori’s still trying to get luke to sing a duet with her in public, to no avail so far
i’ve mentioned before that they like to shower together (again it’s not ever sexual), it’s more meditative and still v much intimate
again, not exactly a tradition, but sometimes if tori’s having trouble sleeping/it’s a particularly bad night regarding nightmares, luke will softly sing to her (most of the time, “did i mention” bc he knows how happy it makes her)
valentines day is a BIG thing. and it feels so cliche for me to say, but tori LOVES that holiday and luke would do anything for that woman. so he’ll do as much cheesy, romantic stuff as he can and that he’s gleaned from movies (and like actually romantic stuff, not the White™ version of romance where the man stalks/forces the woman’s hand)
i mean most of the big holidays–valentines, halloween, christmas and new yrs are p big things in the williams-castellan household
most of the time, they spend it alone together (lol if that makes sense) like the week or day before, they’ll go out with friends and what family they have left lmao i made myself sad ;_; but on the day of, they’ll spend it together in the comfort of their apt bc going out is too overwhelming for both of them
every sunday, they’ll bake together and every monday, they’ll make a meal together. it helps them enjoy the end of their weekend and the beginning of a new work-week more, being able to spend that time together and looking forward to it at the end of those dreaded mondays
what tv shows they watch together
adult cartoons like bob’s burgers, rick & morty, and futurama
episodic comedies like parks & rec, the office, b99, and scrubs
they’ll sometimes chance it with crime procedurals and the like, but if the show gets too heavy, they’ll stop and not really go back bc they’ve dealt with enough
same goes for sci-fi/fantasy shows (tho they chance these even less bc they deal with enough mythology shit just being demigods)
what other couple they hang out with
they’ll sometimes hang out with like percy and annabeth (and maybe the other couples from the seven JASON IS STILL ALIVE I SAID EVERYONE LIVES!AU + nico and will, etc.), but it’s more in a mentor kind of way, since luke and tori are so much older than all of them. they’re good to go to for advice abt relationships, and also life in general
i like to think they are able to make friends with couples their age through places like the waystation that are hidden throughout the mortal world, but they’re wary abt new ppl bc they’ve had so many bad experiences, just in general (not necessarily with ppl)
so if you do manage to become a friend and they ask you to go on a double date with them with your partner, it’s ride or die for them (and it better be mutual)
how they spend time together as a couple
quiet nights in, mundane date nights out–anything a normal couple would do bc they’ve been through enough already, they don’t need more excitement/trauma
that, of course, doesn’t stop monsters from attacking them when they go out. but after a battle, they’ll go home, clean up, and cuddle on the bed with lofi music playing in the background and scented candles lit around the room
who made the first move
tori did regarding their private confirmation of being in a relationship since she’s demi, and she’d told luke so. he didn’t want to push her into anything she was uncomfortable with, esp if her feelings stayed platonic/friendly, so he let her take the reins
luke did regarding their public confirmation of being in a relationship when he asked her to the fireworks show
who brings flowers home
luke does bc he knows tori likes it when he does romantic things she’s seen in movies
who is the best cook
neither really, since they didn’t exactly grow up in traditional homes
but a few years after the war and of living together, tori decides to take classes on mexican cuisine to reconnect a little more with her roots and her mom. luke joins her, obvi, bc he cares and love her duh
tori’s the better cook tho; luke likes to bake
thanks again for being patient! as it always is, i enjoyed writing abt my loves
FEED ME SEYMOUR
6 notes · View notes
Text
I finished reading The 100 today and it wasn’t that bad… I went into this book with the lowest of expectations, because there’s no Abby or Kane (and they are my joy on the show), I’ve heard not so good things, and the other two books I’ve read from CW shows are some of my least favorite of all time.
So it ended up being more interesting that I expected, it gives us a curious background on the Ark (or Colony here), and to it seemed like fanfic – it’s a different take on this idea and these characters (and there’s the realization that all the fic I read for this fandom is Kabby and here there’s none). And I really wonder how people who were more invested in these books feel about the show, because it’s really completely different – the only thing in common is this general idea of people living in space after the apocalypse and that one hundred delinquent kids are being sent to the ground; and I think over all I like the show better.
Under the read more, spoilers for the book and spoilers for the show up to where we are now (season 5, episode 6). And talking about Kane and Abby way too many times when they aren’t even in the book
First thing, something that definitely makes more sense in the book and that’s that they’ve been up there for 300 years instead of 97. And 300 years is way longer, to allow them to develop this society and to really not remember the Earth, while 97 is not that much, they’re barely into the generations that have heard no stories directly from people that were on the ground.
Another thing I really appreciated in the book was the exploration of class difference. That’s always underlined on the show, the different perspectives of someone like Clarke, Abby or Jaha, comparing to the Blakes or Kane, especially on that first season and the way the delinquents saw Wells and Clarke; and then with Farm Station, we saw that again, or even Diana Sydney using this to her advantage. And while we know the difference in opportunities and treatment for classes, here we see more – how the hot water reaches different stations and how the quality of food varies – and I think this was such an interesting way to see the resentment these people can hold over each other. But then I feel it got too far – it became more Capitol in the Hunger Games – they were really living it up, with balls and everything while the others barely eat; while in the show, there’s still the differences, but for example Abby still uses old clothes with holes (reason why it always annoys me that with the shocklashing, they ripped her shirt when they could just have pulled it up, because there’s not an infinite supply of clothes)
These were the things I really liked on the sense of world-building and even making look for other things on the show. But there are still other few things I want to cover.
The thing I was most looking forward to was getting to know Wells in a deeper way, but this is a very different Wells – less sweet, more rigid in a way, but still very much cares for Clarke. Now, I was very pissed at his crime to get into the skybox, because my Vera Kane doesn’t deserve that (also headcanon that Marcus didn’t join the guards and is still taking care of Eden with his Mom – so totally exists), but having now finished the book, it makes sense – so very smart of him, but still poor Kanes… Also interesting how much bigger and more important the cult is, which makes sense since it has been 300 years instead of 97, and the ground and a tree is even more of a myth
And I also really liked the goodbye between Wells and Jaha and how it parallels with Abby and Clarke’s in the show. The Jaha’s relationship was definitely more complicated and painful, and you really see why he chose Clarke above his father, and the moments about missing his mother and that relationship being so strong in him were really good.
Finally he was actually the person who gave up Clarke’s parents here and it’s really nice the show changed that (and the crime in general – I’ll talk more later on). And really I wasn’t a fan of the romance with either him or Bellamy – it was too much drama sometimes and just not really what I wanted to see of those characters. But really like Wells and Glass’ friendship and how they thought of each other, but especially liked his interaction with Octavia – that scene was my favorite interaction between characters over all.
Still on the theme of Jaha – changing how he was shot on the show was such a good decision. Really it led us to all the Ark storyline on the first season that I loved so much and a bit of mystery about who got Bellamy to shoot Jaha. But besides this Bellamy not shooting Jaha on purpose completely changes him, and it’s so interesting to see his guilt here and even how he honestly tells Wells that he hopes his father makes it. Bellamy does not resent Jaha and it’s a nicer Bellamy for sure (comparing to season 1 for sure), that is completely different from the asshole leader we first met
Before I move to the other things that will just be Kane and Abby things again, let me just go over a few plot things.
First, Glass’ baby is alive right?? – I’m pretty sure the book is tricking us to think this. Also I haven’t understood what are these unregistered kids and why is it a crime for Glass to have a baby? It’s her first. What are the rules besides the only-child one? Also her relationship with Luke is one of the reasons I was saying that the class difference was taken too far for my liking
And now why kill Thalia?! I loved her and her friendship with Clarke. She was probably my favorite character… Also I really liked that in this Clarke didn’t need detention, so she made friends!!!
And finally Octavia’s addiction… Before that she’s also so young in this, also very innocent, and the backstory is very different, with being raised around people in the center and Bellamy not being her only person… Aurora strangling her was so shocking… But moving to the addiction, I just started having Abby and Kane feelings – she was arrested for what she almost killed Kane for!! All the feels over this, no matter that these are completely different universes and storylines, because it still felt like a gut punch. And I wonder how they will handle this in the later books, comparing to how they’re handling Abby’s…
And if I didn’t know this story was pitched by Paige Turco, I would think it was another little homage to the book. There were a few through the book, my favorite is probably the use of Arkadia, which was one of the stations – the one we learn less about – and it’s now their home on the ground
This is the perfect moment to move to the other Kane and Abby thoughts, my first is that at first I was thinking that maybe Vice Chancellor Rhodes could be a bit of Kane, there’s a feeling there when he was first mentioned by Glass’ mother, but definitely not – but yeah, there’s that cold asshole feeling you get with Rhodes and Kane pre-culling, but as you find out more they are so different. Kane is cold, but he was all about falling the rules – he sadly he wouldn’t pardon Glass, he wouldn’t consider it until her birthday, and of course he would never go behind the rules to do that study. Kane is just all about rules in that first season, and always believing he was doing the best for humanity (which Rhodes maybe still was with the research)
Now the research, I have so many thoughts about that!! First I’m so glad they changed the crime, because Jake’s story is so beautiful!! And I want more Jake in my life – mentioned him this season, please… But now Abby was testing radiation effect on people and she was doing it because Rhodes was threatening Clarke, and she was doing it on children – my poor Abby… and Jake… and Lilly… And now last season, she was testing it, this time for the good of the humanity and she couldn’t, and it broke her so much that she stopped wanting to live. In how much pain was Abby living in the Colony?! Just having my heart ripped apart by this.
But then the aftermath with actual trial worked for me. Can’t believe Rhodes got away. And I know every crime is punishable, but no trial on the show bother me. How quick was Kane going to float Abby? Like the next day… but the one that bothers me the most, and I still try to not believe it, is Callie – because if Kane was the one who chose to float her, that is not ethical, since they had a personal relationship, and he definitely shouldn’t have that decision when the person was Callie – that thing just doesn’t really fit well with me (and I need a better reason for Callie’s disappearance)
And now finally the killing is different as well, here it’s less painful with the lethal poison, but the choice to go with floating on the show really works – it’s so visually awful – Jake being pushed, his air out of his lounges … Awful, but it really works for the show. And it gives you a “fuck you” expression without swearing which is useful
After all this, I can say I like the show better, but the book was okay. I like how it very much centered on the kids surviving on the Earth, not yet with the impact of the grounders, but that last scene. Definitely curious about what comes next, probably going to read a few comics now and then moving to the next one.
This book, and the other two I’ve read from CW shows, really makes me see why this is the perfect to adapt superhero comic books. They very often only pick the general premise of a book and then run with it the way they want, and with all the reboot in comics, that’s the way to go with superheroes – so CW was the ideal choice
4 notes · View notes
remiduval · 6 years
Photo
Tumblr media
E M P I R E   T A S K : [ 001 ] : CHARACTER PERSONA [ PT. 1 ]
Myers-Briggs : ENFJ
ENFJs are the benevolent 'pedagogues' of humanity. They have tremendous charisma by which many are drawn into their nurturant tutelage and/or grand schemes. Many ENFJs have tremendous power to manipulate others with their phenomenal interpersonal skills and unique salesmanship. But it's usually not meant as manipulation -- ENFJs generally believe in their dreams, and see themselves as helpers and enablers, which they usually are. ENFJs are global learners. They see the big picture. The ENFJs focus is expansive. Some can juggle an amazing number of responsibilities or projects simultaneously. Many ENFJs have tremendous entrepreneurial ability.
Character Alignment : Chaotic Good
A chaotic good character acts as his conscience directs him with little regard for what others expect of him. He makes his own way, but he’s kind and benevolent. He believes in goodness and right but has little use for laws and regulations. He hates it when people try to intimidate others and tell them what to do. He follows his own moral compass, which, although good, may not agree with that of society.
Chaotic good is the best alignment you can be because it combines a good heart with a free spirit.
Chaotic good can be a dangerous alignment when it disrupts the order of society and punishes those who do well for themselves.
Temperament : Sanguine-Choleric
They get very excited. This is an assertive and energetic persons who works well with and through people. They have an outgoing interest in others and the ability to gain the respect and confidence of varied types of individuals. They strive to do business in a friendly way while pushing forward to win their objectives and sell their point of view. They easily promote their own ideas or the ideas of others. They exhibit poise and confidence in most situations, especially social events. They will become bored without activity and social involvement. They have difficulty with awareness of time, organization and concentrating on details. They prefer others to give them information that will help them make decisions rather than research it themselves. They are very optimistic and enthusiastic but lack consistent follow-through. To be highly motivated they need freedom of expression, mobility, involvement with people, recognition, acceptance and freedom from details.
Element : Ice (Water/Earth)
Ice is cool, calm, collected, logical, and abstract. It combines the calm, serenity, insight, adaptability, and wisdom of Water with the order, consistency, loyalty, and practicality of earth. They are creatures of cold, crystalline beauty – elegant and unapproachable. They are deep, mysterious, and inscrutable – yet they see the rest of the world with astounding clarity. They have a big-picture view of life and tend to be meticulous planners. Ice is also generally a very good judge of character, so long as Ice does not give in to pessimism or cynicism. That is one of Ice’s great internal struggles – the conflict between an intense inner idealism and pessimism about how corrupt the world is. Ice is exceptionally perfectionistic. Ice is also known for its subtly determined nature. Instead of trying to break through barriers, Ice finds another way. When the barrier is weak or if Ice finds just the right angle, it breaks through with the force of a massive iceberg. Yet against stronger or more aggressive forces, Ice adapts, melts, flows around boulders, through piles of debris, over dams, and even through the smallest cracks. When it finds such small opening, it freezes – expanding and cracking the barrier apart. Ice plans everything meticulously in advance and can be seen as opportunistic since it never lets any opportunity go to waste. Ice is very independent and often stubborn, but not aggressive or bossy. Rather than try to force the world to conform to itself, it bends and moves to suit the circumstances, subtly influences the world from the shadows, or else it simply leaves. Ice knows when to withdraw and leave a hopeless organization, pointless debate, or harmful relationship. Solitude is natural and comfortable for Ice, so it very capable of leaving toxic situations behind and not looking back. This tendency to choose an isolated lifestyle may be in reaction to past hurt or betrayal or it could just as easily stem from being highly introverted. It often views society as a whole as being cruel, stupid, chaotic, or threatening. Ice is very structured, orderly, rational, and logical. They are punctual, organized, detail-oriented, planned, and are excellent at either creating or running vast, complicated systems – whether for business, politics and other practical concerns or for philosophy, religion, science, or other more abstract pursuits. They have both the creativity and wisdom to create as well as the practicality and diligence to administrate. They are strong and stable, honest and loyal, fair-minded and rational, orderly and reliable. Under stress and pressure that would break anyone else, Ice still stands like an ancient, unconquerable glacier. This ability to think well in both abstract and concrete ways makes Ice a natural planner. Everything in Ice’s life goes to serve The Plan: an extremely complex life-long plan for success that incorporates every foreseeable variable and contingency. Often, Ice begins making The Plan while still a small child and continues to refine it and re-work it across his or her life. Their ability to predict the future is mysterious and can be either inspiring or terrifying depending on whether Ice is a friend or enemy. Ice generally uses its towering intellect to solve problems, express deep truths, create inventions, or unravel the mysteries of the universe rather than make money or get fame. Fame is of very little interest to Ice. Ice often has a strong creative and artistic streak, loving music, literature, philosophy, and the arts. The Icy person often has a natural and effortless gift at creating pristine, elegant beauty – whether in artwork, abstract systems, or even in the clothes she or he wears. Yet all of these tremendous strengths do come with weaknesses. Ice is extremely introverted and cautious. If Ice is ever surprised and has no plan at all for the current situation, Ice often freezes up entirely – unable to act. Ice may be adaptable, but improvisation is very difficult. Ice does not like surprises and is often stubborn. Further, Ice is very emotionally withdrawn. While Ice usually has a rich, complex internal world of emotions, Ice is very poor at expressing those emotions to others – and some Icy people may even have difficulty reading the emotions of others. Ice tends to be distant, remote, and very difficult to read - often having a constant poker face or unintentional icy death glare. Even when emotions are expressed, getting the right words out with the right vocal tone is frustrating. This often tends to push away the very people Ice wants most to get close to. This over-abundance of caution, difficulty improvising, and difficulty expressing emotions are Ice’s three great weaknesses. Yet for anyone who manages to get close enough to Ice to make a real emotional connection, they will find Ice to be very loving, devoted, and absolutely loyal. As a general rule, anyone who earns the love or friendship of Ice will enjoy lifelong, unbreakable commitment and they will get the rare treat of enjoying the warm and compassionate heart at Ice’s core.
Sorting House : Ravenclaw [84 %]
Ravenclaw, the house of intelligence, curiosity, individualism, and wit. You are amongst other Ravenclaws, such as: Cho Chang, and Luna Lovegood.
Enneagram : The Reformer
Ones are conscientious and ethical, with a strong sense of right and wrong. They are teachers, crusaders, and advocates for change: always striving to improve things, but afraid of making a mistake. Well-organized, orderly, and fastidious, they try to maintain high standards, but can slip into being critical and perfectionistic. They typically have problems with resentment and impatience. At their Best: wise, discerning, realistic, and noble. Can be morally heroic.
Name Meaning : Remington Thalia
The name Remington is English. It means: settlement
The name Thalia is Greek. Thalia was one of the nine Muses, presiding over comedy and pastoral poetry. It means: to blossom.
Archtype : The Intellectual
52% Intellectual
The Intellectual is the ultimate dinner-party guest. Engaging questions and thoughtful debate are their trademarks.
38% Explorer
The Explorer is drawn to the unknown, whether that’s a Himalayan peak or the road not taken, and have a thirst for adventure. They take journeys, not vacations.
10% Caregiver
Friendly, sincere, and compassionate, the Caregiver finds their reward in helping others. No one could ask for a better best friend.
1 note · View note
apocynoideae · 6 years
Text
Epilogue: Immortality (Nerium, Alliance Deadlands)
[The following is an epilogue I imagine for my Deadlands PC, who I retired when the Deadlands campaign ended. It spans far into a speculative future.]
"Over time, over many years, the people grow into heroes - into people like you have been, who can shape the world into what they want it be, like you have. And there will be a knock at the door: a friend, a remembrance, a memorial, a raised glass in celebration. And sometimes it will be a man, with faded scars where once lines of brilliant blue light glowed with power, standing there with a pot in one hand and a block of cheese in the other, saying ‘Hello, friend. I love you.’"
(The Deadlands Epilogue -- Evan as Chithiss)
---
Fondue sat ready next to a plate of apples and two glasses. Surion asked Chithiss if he'd like wine or beer. The man who had once been the Withering had become a friend. The man who changed the reality of Laerthan was, somehow, in many ways just a man.
Nerium held onto a baby Biata with one hand and a third glass with the other. Kestilen’s orphanage was not well suited for an infant, and so her long-time volunteers became parents. The girl was named Vera, after Vry. Lord Vryan had remained a friend. A leader, a hero, a good man, a brother in arms.
Nerium reflected upon the story Heresy told her when he guided her through Resurrection. He had shown her what he believed could be her future: Nerium, possessed of the calm often found among her long-lived people, and Surion beside her. She wished she could thank him one more time for that story, and show him the peace she had at this moment. But he was human, and he was gone.
Surion lived to his four hundred and ninth year. He fell for the last time defending Moonsong, and died as honorably as he lived. Their adopted daughter had taken after him, with black feathers and a preference for spears. Vera fought beside her namesake and her mother in yet another war against the desperate and short sighted.
Vry vanished without a trace in his old age, and the natural lifespan of Elves was what made his death apparent. Vera lived to see a time of peace, and died at 1,712.
Philomena came and went, sometimes as a lover and sometimes as a friend, on and off for 600 years. Her paintings became famed enough that Nerium read of her death in the newspaper 5,000 years later. Her parents reached nearly 7,000 years old before an epidemic claimed them together. Her sister died in warfare 300 years later.
Eire fell. The fall of the nation did not threaten Laerthan itself, and Nerium had not gone to war. To do so would not have saved lives or freedom, and her duty was not to one nation.
Another human-majority nation stood strong where Eire once thrived, and found its path to prosperity. Despite the sideways looks she got sometimes, with curiosity or distrust toward the horns that were so rare in this part of the continent, Nerium founded a small school in a small town. Though she preferred teaching healing to the older children and leaving skills like reading to her wife's care, she could not stop herself from teaching alchemy and Celestial magic to the most interested students. Her neighbors were not like the adventurer companions of the long past. The dual-school wizard intimidated many of them, and the school boarded more orphans than it enrolled from town.
She woke one morning to wailing at the door -- a toddler too young to tell her his name or where he'd come from, and a note in his pocket that only said “I'm sorry.” She named him Essie, and considered them both fortunate that he had far less dangerous habits than his namesake. He preferred alchemy to healing, blades and guns to Celestial magic, and the life of a guard to a life of crafting. The coincidence only went so far; he wed another human and she lost track of his family line after ten generations.
Nerium changed identities countless times. Cosmetic Transformation after Cosmetic Transformation, move after move. There was only so long she could conceal what she had become. Her skills were not practiced solely as hobbies, and she put them to use when needed -- but a known dragon mage made an impression on the neighbors even in cities with shadow mages. In time she found comfort only among adventurers, even though such groups thrived only in times of the upheaval she wished would end.
She knew, and had always known, it wouldn't end. Fear, need, vanity, greed, envy -- conflict was in the nature of mortals. Good intentions combined with desperation led to evil. Nerium rarely took sides. When she did, with conviction that lives would be preserved by a particular force’s victory, her long-cultivated bond to Laerthan rose to protect its people from one another. She wielded more force than she believed belonged in the world.
So long ago, the adventurers of Chiram’s Hollow befriended the man who reshaped the world. They discussed what it should look like, some of them with as much understanding as their perspective could encompass of the gravity. They had seen the Sundering, the Withering, living rituals, dragons, Cerebral Devourers -- complete cosmic power was believable if not comprehensible, and not nearly as frightening as it should have been. Nerium grew into the awe she was too numb to feel at time. She grew into power of her own that she actively sought, though she wished it felt unnecessary.
She lost track of Tova, and did not seek to find out if she withstood a long life instead of the short one inherent to her people. Kinayo stood Guardian of Eternity for millennia, but was not made for eternity himself and went mad. The Sphinx preserved their city out of time, but time claimed them and they became stone. Nerium learned the truth about Francis Teawaddle. She spoke with dragons and learned magic from them. She spoke with Chithiss and learned thoroughly that “reality” did not mean what people thought it did. She spoke with the Earth and learned balance.
She stopped considering years, then developed little care for centuries. The world she was born in was long gone, and time held little meaning. Her options were to live in the moment or live in madness and pain. She chose the sense of urgency she never really outgrew, though the panic that once came with it had faded. She chose dedication and commitments. She chose to love and lose. In the middle of a cold war, she chose a partner and to bear his child.
She could not count how many she had raised. Some had been brought to her as infants, and some as old as teenagers. But it had been 500 years since she last raised or taught children. She welcomed the sleepless nights with a newborn, and the innate free spirit of the first young Sylvan she'd seen in a millenium. She wanted a bond of blood and the tether to Laerthan.
Nerium loved her daughter as much as she loved the land. She loved Thalia’s father, though she knew a human’s lifespan was fleeting. She realized quickly that a short-lived human was better prepared to raise a long-lived Sylvan than she was as an immortal. Nerium could not explain modern mindsets or technology. She still rode horses more often than horseless carriages. People read about Eire as ancient history if they read about it at all, and couldn't imagine living in a country like it. Nerium had adapted to most of the changing world, and forgotten much of her past, but she was not modern.
The need for Reality Anchors was long gone. Nerium and Tova had become landbonded and immortal to strengthen Laerthan against the Cerebral Devourers, but Chithiss could shut them out himself. She'd been freed of that duty long ago. The Earth's children threatened each other in the absence of threats from beyond the mortal plane, and she held the land bond only to protect them from each other and the land from them. It felt necessary and right, dangerous and arrogant, heavy yet freeing. But these were the Earth's children, not her own. She was not meant to be Anaxion, believing himself the rightful protector of mortals who did not know as much as he, who would be better off with his rule, because he was ancient and powerful beyond their reach. She was born mortal and remained a Sylvan. Her daughter was Sylvan. This was a much needed reminder.
Thalia’s father had only 40 years to give her. Nerium offered 400. She found joy without judgment in the strange ways her daughter lived, which were not unusual by the standards of her homeland. Nerium learned new games, new jokes, and new fashion. She learned to let go.
The Perfect Harmony had seemed unacceptable when Chithiss tried to force it on mortals who very much wanted to stay that way. It had seemed like a Curse of Undeath, unnatural and deeply undesirable. Chithiss had learned this, and changed, and protected mortals so they could keep the lives they so wanted, but he was still the same being. His demand had become an invitation, but what he had not explained to the adventurers of Chiram’s Hollow was that it was an inevitability. They wouldn't have liked that information. Nerium certainly hadn't when Chithiss told her the first time, nor the second. But she had made her peace, and then sought peace.
“You will live as long as Laerthan exists.”
“You can become Chithiss.”
For the love of the land, for the love of Laerthan's people, and for the hope that tomorrow would be a better day, Nerium did both.
Featuring: Surion, played by Sean C. Chithiss, played by Evan (NPC) Vry, played by Albert Heresy, played by Gary Philomena, played by Samara (NPC) Tova, played by Melissa Kinayo, played by Bill (NPC) The Sphinx, played by Samara (NPC) Francis Teawaddle, played by Samara (NPC) Anaxion, played by Sean M. (NPC)
1 note · View note
thesonancetests · 5 years
Text
wip intro
Tumblr media
TITLE | the sonance tests
GENRE | sci-fi, hints of ya
THEMES | utopian fantasy that is not as ideal as purported, revolution, the fight for survival, biomes, friendship, learning to be loved, finding trust in unexpected places, lgbtq+ romance
TROPE | whole gang shares one brain cell, morally grey characters become the reluctant heroes of the story, the villains could be anybody out on the streets, genius character but they’re a dumbass, enemies to lovers to awkward exes who have to work together reluctantly, redemption arcs all around, none of that fragile masculinity shit
SETTING | The Diome, a controlled environment within a dome-shaped forcefield where humanity chose to live after the apocalypse to survive the ravaging, ever-shifting landscape outside (one moment you could be trekking through a rainforest, and the next you could be braving a sandstorm)
WARNINGS | swearing, like a bunch of swearing, some death
GOAL | 50,000 words
STATUS | first draft
CURRENT WC | 23,944 words
Nix was ten when her brother was thrown out of The Diome for a crime she was sure he didn’t commit. The funniest thing is she can’t remember anything about that day. Six years later, she’s joined The Sonance Tests to find out the truth about him.
Tests that would determine if a human body can survive better when in control of their senses. Tests that could save the world again. Can the human body survive without feeling cold or heat? Can the human body adapt to reptilian senses? Can the human body live without light?
The world has ended once, and now it’s about to end again. We are running out of space and resources. Every youth has no choice but to join the Tests.  Trust the Councils to find a way to kill off half the younger generation while chalking it all up to the greater good. 
Can Nix make it through the tests without falling prey to the corruption that runs deep within the system? Can she find out the truth about her brother and why he failed to complete his mission eight years ago? Can she find out who’s on her side before it’s too late? 
CHARACTERS
NIX TRILLIN - 16, she/her, confused. she has a mission, but she can’t escape her past. big trust issues, and very suspicious, but she just wants to be loved honestly. cynical, sarcastic, would rather throw herself out a window than talk about her feelings. likes running, including running from her problems. scared of balloons but has never seen one. 
MIKAELA SOREN - 16, she/her, bisexual as hell. charming to a fault, biggest smile on the planet, gets what she wants. flirty as hell which makes Nix very blushy. tired of not feeling important. just here for a good time, not a long time. might have a little crush on Nix but denies it vehemently.
DAX OBERON - 13, he/him, super bored. hates being called a child but he really is one inside and out. he has adhd and an obsession with sneakers, and the constant need to rebel against his parents. keeps sneaking out, has a competitive streak that cannot be tamed. impulsive like a forest fire.
COLINE ZOBEL - 28, she/her, undercover genius. the brains of the revolution, but can’t make pasta for shit. the inside source for the uprising, maintains contact with the people outside the Diome. always looking over her shoulder, constantly lying but is actually a nice person when you get to know her.
LYKEL TRILLLIN - 26, he/him, just wants a nap. got thrown out for a crime he didn’t commit when he attempted to expose the corruption in The Councils, now is determined to take them down. hates the taste of sand. big mom friend energy. not above talking about his emotions. likes puns and jokes.
TILLIA SNG - 17, she/her, lots of ambition but zero social skills. cannot maintain a smile, it hurts her cheeks. wants to go into science like her parents, but makes it clear that it’s her own decision. dies a little inside every time she stares into space and makes accidental eye contact with someone.
CPT. LIANA TIBERIUS - 29, she/her, Coline’s old flame. captain of one of the strike teams for The Councils, annoyed at incompetency. lowkey cannot stand kids. wishes she could have a drink.
TAZE OPENMET - 18, he/him, could stand to learn some empathy. leader of an opposing alliance to Nix’s inside the Tests, really knows his way around someone else’s sore spot.
other notable characters
BINGER, METANA, THALIA - Lykel’s crew outside the Diome
LT. LYON BLAKE - an unpleasant man, bullies Corvus
CORVUS - member of Liana’s strike team, too smiley
LYKEL & JEAN TRILLIN - Nix’s parents
______________
tag list: [ask/comment to be tagged] | those tagged will be updated with excerpts, character bios, moodboards, playlists, etc. and on the progress I’ve made with this wip
updates
@liminalizewips
0 notes
fireandseaweed · 7 years
Text
Two Bro’s In Brome || Jason and Percy
Jason and Percy get pizza.
Late nights weren’t unusual for Jason these days. The duties of Pontifex coupled with the workload of his classes meant that he couldn’t go to bed quite as early as he used to, even though his alarm went off at the same time every morning. Sitting at his desk in the living room of his apartment, mostly tuning out the sounds of Netflix in the background, he tapped away at his laptop, editing a story he had to turn in for one of his classes. A cup of coffee (decaf because of the hour) steamed in front of him and even though he had a lot of work to do, he couldn’t help but feel peaceful. Until he heard the telltale sounds of a key scraping in the lock to his apartment. A couple people had keys; Nico, Annabeth and Percy, Piper, Will, so it was hard to pinpoint until the door opened who exactly it was. But he pushed his glasses up on his nose and waited for the door to open, “Help you with something?”
Percy had never fully understood how someone could be as much of a workaholic as Jason and Annabeth appeared to be. They both worked all the hours under the sun and to be honest Percy had sort of gotten used to the fact that they got so into their work that they forgot about him. Shifting the pizza boxes onto his left hand, he scrabbled with the lock and caught Jason red handed. “Ha. I knew you’d forgot.” He set the pizza on the table in the center of the living room, making his way over he spotted the laptop and word document. “If you’ve got work you need to do we can turn pizza night into a study sesh,” he always took his laptop to Jason’s. They often had to do homework as they chilled out together. “As long as you’ve got some beer I’m willing to forgive you.”
Jason turned beet red when he saw Percy come through his door with a stack of pizzas and a wide grin on his face, “Gods! I totally had! I’m so so sorry Perce.” He snapped his laptop shut and went to go help Percy with the boxes, setting them down on his kitchen counter before he pulled his best friend into a tight hug. “Between school and trying to work with the Vulcanites on rebuilding Temple Hill and shifts at the bookstore I’ve just been buried this week.” He released his friend and got them both beers from the fridge, “I do have beer! I always keep beer on hand just so you’ll forgive me when I inevitably fuck up.” He cracked the bottles open and passed one to Percy, “How are you? Thanks for grabbing the pizza.”
Laughing Percy hugged his friend and brushed away his apology. “I’ve already forgotten about it.” He shrugged and took the beer off of his friend. Taking a long drink, he smiled before grabbing a slice of pizza. Chewing on the cheesy delight he made his way across the room and slumped into Jason’s couch. “That’s much better,” he yawned gently and took another mouthful. Smiling peacefully he sat in silence for a moment before speaking. “Has it ever occurred to you that you’ve got too much on your plate? You don’t need to work and go to college and be the pontifex maximus. Leave something for the rest of us to do.” He laughed and swallowed another mouthful of beer. “Don’t sweat it,” he smiled. “I’m good, just, maybe for the first time in years I’m just living my life and it’s wonderful.”
“Is it because of the beer? There’s a reason I always keep your favorite in the back of my fridge.” Jason grabbed a slice of the super cheesy and bacony pizza that Percy had brought him, his favorite, and slid into the chair next to the couch, chewing idly and looking at his friend. “Nearly every day. But I made a promise to a goddess to be Pontifex, and a promise to myself to go to school and I need money so I’ve got to work too… so really it’s just a matter of keeping up this pace for another three years and then I’ll have my degree and it’ll all be peachy keen… or selling a manuscript before that and becoming a published author so I don’t need to work anymore. But you know me, P… I like being busy. If I’ve got too much downtime I go crazy.” A smile crept across his face and he leaned forward to squeeze Percy’s knee, “That makes me happy, dude. I”m glad.  You definitely deserve this.”
“It may well be because of the beer, but it is also really nice to just get to hang out with a friend.” Percy smiled gently and swallowed another mouthful of ice cold beer. It was exactly what he needed after such a long and hard day. Shifting gently he shrugged. “You make too many promises Jason, when you commit to something you commit to it, I’ll give you that. But you’re stretching yourself too thin.” He wished that he could help his friend with this, but he had chosen this job and it was up to Jason to see it through. “I keep busy, but no so busy that I don’t ever have time off.” He taught swim classes and was the captain of the UNR swim team, he also studied full time and trained. “I’m lucky,” he knew it, despite the PTSD and everything that had ever happened to him, he knew that he was lucky. He knew that things could be much worse. “What about you?”
“We all know it’s the beer.” Jason threw a wink at Percy. Their long friendship made it easy for them to joke like this. When you’ve had someone’s blood all over your hands you get to joke with them a bit. “I make only the promises I intend to keep and the ones that need to be made. You know me, P. I gotta help however I can. Besides… as long as I have you and that genius girlfriend of yours to occasionally slap some sense into me.” He finished his piece of pizza and went to grab another from the box, “You get this from Pizza Place? Maxine’s getting better at this shit and it was already good as hell to begin with.” Sitting back down he shrugged and started in on his second pizza. “Life is life. I’m busy, therapy twice a week, I try to do some work on the Hill at least every weekend but you know what a fucking shitshow it is up there. Before you start to gripe at me I make sure to take at least two hours to do things just for me every night. I’m taking care of myself. Promise.” His eyes moved over to the large calendar hanging on the wall, filled with all sorts of dates and appointments, before he landed on a date heavily circled with a couple of stars on it, “New recruits come in a couple days. Ready for this year’s crop of scared kids?”
Shrugging gently, Percy laughed. “Well you are the one who is saying it is the beer, I won’t admit to anything.” He laughed and shook his head, he knew Jason was joking and it was always reassuring to have him make jokes at his own expense. That was when you knew you were with friends. Or in this case, his best friend. “Yeah, this is definitely one of Maxine’s finest works. I’ve been eating there since I arrived in New Rome and even I think that she is outdoing herself.” He chewed on his pizza and smiled, “You know how I worry about what could happen if someone didn’t make you look after yourself, besides Thalia wouldn’t let me get away with it if something were actually going to happen to you. I’m still pretty terrified of her shield.” He danced over the PTSD and the mention of therapy. This wasn’t the day for that. Jason’s suggestion made him laugh. “I doubt I’ll see much of them, I’m only covering a few training sessions for advanced swordsman, I won’t get to meet any of them for a while. I hope they’re ready though.”
With a twinkle in his eye Jason beamed at his friend, “Well that’s what brothers are for. Saying the inconvenient truths you won’t. I’m just here to keep you honest, Percito.” Jason debated on a third slice of pizza and decided to just sit and nurse his beer for a little while. “I can look after myself just fine, thank you. I have saved the world multiple times, a busy schedule is nothing compared to that. Though…. Thalia is more terrifying than Gaia and Krios combined.” He nodded as Percy talked, “I’m a little jealous. Reyna and Frank roped me into giving tours and being one of the on-call “if you need help settling in” people. One of the downsides of having an office at HQ. I doubt I’ll be very involved though. I’ll put on my best scary older legionnaire face and they’ll be too terrified to talk to me. Works like a charm every time and leaves me plenty of time to focus on the things that matter. Like homework, and movie nights.”
Laughing once more, Percy realised that he didn’t miss the nights that he had spent with legionnaires when he had first moved here. Hell he didn’t even miss being a counsellor at Camp Half Blood and that really told you that he had grown up. “Inconvenient or annoying truths?” He couldn’t hide his smirk and instead stuffed more pizza into his mouth. “Either way it is appreciated even if it isn’t convenient.” He shrugged gently and chewed on his pizza, “Well I wouldn’t go after her, I’m quite glad that she isn’t my sister. Although heaven help anyone who hurts you.” He shrugged gently and drank some more. “I do not miss those days, I am more than glad that there is a new generation of centurions who can cope with the nitty gritty details like settling in semi traumatised legionnaires and probatios.” Pretty much every demigod was partially traumatised. “Those are certainly important, but I hope you don’t have anyone who idolises you, that’s infuriating.”
Laughing along with his best friend, Jason stretched and twisted his broad frame until he was resting comfortably in the chair “she can be a hellion. An immortal, ageless, ferocious hellion.” A slight roll of his eyes and a shrug later he replied, finishing the last dregs of his beer “part of the job. Look intimidating in white robes and terrify them into doing well and fighting for the glory of Rome… and then praying to the gods that they don’t come knocking on my office doors.” He wandered over to the fridge and got them both two new beers, “That hasn’t happened in a year or so. Last one who was got a stern talking to by Reyna and Frank about what exactly constitutes stalking. I try to stay pretty aloof and unapproachable for that exact reason. I don’t have the time to deal with a wanted romantic partner let alone an unwanted one. Who has time for that?!” He chuckled wryly, mostly to himself. He hadn’t dated since Piper and though she kept trying to set him up with people, he was content to be single. “I know it’s early… but what’re you doing for Christmas this year?”
Gratefully accepting the new beer, Percy swallowed the last dregs of his current drink and held the ice cold bottle gingerly in his slender fingers. “Hashtag blessed ese,” he smirked gently and laughed before shrugging, “I never worry about you going rogue, I worry about Annabeth going rogue.” He thought back to his brief time in the legion and shrugged, the brand that had been tattooed onto his forearm seven years ago briefly popping into his mind. At least it looked cool. “I can’t blame them,” he said with a shrug, “I remember seeing Luke and Thalia in action and I was pretty awestruck, but you’re even more of a hero. The man who slayed the Trojan sea monster.” It was one of many of his best friends impressive accomplishments. “I get it, wanting to be single, from you it makes sense.” It was true. Jason deserved some time to himself, besides he was too busy to have a love life. “Mom and Gabby are going to Paul’s parents, so me and Annabeth will either stay here or go see her dad I guess. You? Either way, I expect to see you.”
“Who’s got the time to go rogue, dude? But gods help us if Annabeth ever does. We’d all be powerless in the face of her genius.” Jason’s cheeks flushed momentarily as he waved Percy’s compliments away “That was a long time ago. Now I’m just a dude doing dude things. and building temples. Nothing exciting. No monsters for this old man. Not if I can help it.” He couldn’t help but chuckle “but if I start getting a bunch of cats you gotta set me up on some dates, man. Don’t let me turn into that sad old man.” He knew Percy wouldn’t, even without asking. They looked out for each other, like they had since they first met, and he knew Percy had his back. “I haven’t decided. Either I’ll use my Pontifex sway to get a table at Bacchus’ for one or I’ll take a trip somewhere. I’m just trying to see who’s doing what.”
“Not to mention the amount of work it would be, by the Gods duelling a titan and giants was hard enough, when I fought Ares I was sure I was going to die.” Percy shrugged and smiled gently. It was nice that they could talk through things like this, even if they were mostly joking. “Just a demigod trying to have some kind of normal life, I get it.” He couldn’t think of anything better. Nodding gently Percy had to admit that he didn’t get to go home for Christmas nearly as often as he would have liked to be able to. Mostly because he was so busy, and the price of flying, it meant it was hard for him to work through it all. Pausing for a second, he nodded. “Well as I’m sure you already know, you’d be welcome to join me and Annabeth at any time. Christmas is a time for family.”
“I would honestly rather face Krios in single combat again than try to deal with a rogue Annabeth. That’s a depressing thought. Mostly for the titans. If a mortal woman is more terrifying than them.” Jason laughed, stretching, “well… as normal as we can get. We certainly don’t have the most normal lives, but we can get some sort of semblance of normality.” He gestured to the apartment around him “I’ve got a place. Houseplants. A bed that’s not a barracks bunk… this is pretty normal for us. It’s the kind of normal I can live with. Homework. Friends. Job. It’s a good normal and as long as I have you and Annabeth around I’m good.” His smile softened and mellowed, the smile of the content and loved, “I know. And the same goes for you guys. Wherever I am at Christmas there's always two places for you guys right next to me. I just sorta wanna get outta New Rome for it. No family to go to so I might just… go.”
“The titans are similar to the older and more conservative generation, they have stopped being relevant and that terrifies them.” Percy laughed. “As for Annabeth, well what can I say.” The pride in his voice wasn’t deliberate. But he couldn’t help but be fiercely proud of what she could do. She was way more impressive than any other demigod that she could think of. Smiling gently Percy thought about going away from it all for Christmas. Maybe that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. “I don’t know,” he sighed and shrugged, “I will have to see what Annabeth says, I’m not thinking just for me anymore.” He scratched the shadow of stubble that had crept across his face, tapping his fingers against his bottle of beer he smiled gently. It was true that this was as normal as things were to get for them. Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. It was good to do something that didn’t have swords and blood as a main activity staple.
“Well… because we killed a bunch of them. That’s gotta really put a hitch in their panties.” Jason smiled at the clear pride Percy had in his girlfriend. They were a couple that loved and supported each other truly and deeply and Jason loved seeing it. “It’s not set in stone or anything. I’m just trying to figure out my options. But yeah… figure out what you guys are planning and let’s do something. Like normal mortal adults.” He sat comfortably in the chair for a long moment before heaving a giant sigh. “Alright. We gotta get some work done. Or at least I do. You can use my playstation if you want or do some work, but I’mma be writing shit. Be prepared for me asking you opinions on lines of shit. This is what you get for being my brother.” And he wouldn’t have asked for a better family.
1 note · View note