#but you still understand each other. maybe even deeper than w those irl

[noxtivagus]

I FEEL BETTER AGAIN

[dishonoredrpg]

Congratulations, ALEXANDRA! You’ve been accepted for the role of TEMPERANCE with the faceclaim of ZOE BARNARD. I was wholly unprepared for the straight-up laughter that your application would pull out of me, but Meraud is, like, perfect. She’s that even mixture of haughty and beautiful and hysterically arrogant that makes all of her blend together and form exactly what I was looking for in Temperance. The hints and touches of outright ridiculousness -- and the acknowledgment of that -- was icing on top of a delicious pastry. Still, there was an implied human quality to her that had me fully in-love by the end; you really showed to me how she could grow and change if given the chance. Just, completely enraptured -- you encapsulated both the gold filigree and the melting of that filigree as mentioned in the skeleton perfectly. I can’t wait to see what you both do! 

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OOC NAME: Alexandra PRONOUNS: she/her AGE: 22 TIMEZONE, ACTIVITY LEVEL: PST, fairly active? i have no job, and no university classes, and so my time is extremely free! ANYTHING ELSE?: Apologies in advance if i’ve spelled it ‘dishonoured’ at any point in the app, I��m a Canadian and sometimes the ‘u’ just pops out! Also - going through the worldbuilding tag and seeing ‘Brethren Lundqvist, Emissary Konecny’ made me wheeze irl Buzzfeed Unsolved style. TK as a religious emissary… the world trembles at the concept IN CHARACTER SKELETON: Temperance NAME: Meraud Cyrielle Azenari Meraud is a medieval Cornish name, with varying meanings depending on the source. Its connection to the sea within ‘mer’ is unquestionable, and it was that connection I enjoyed: the Azenari family draws their wealth through their connection to the sea, and while they are no longer seafaring, and instead profit off of other sailors, the family’s tradition of honouring that mercurial power. The fact that a different source I found says Meraud actually means ‘a profit from the sea’ is almost too perfect. Cyrielle, a French name, and the feminine variant on ‘Cyril’ — Meraud’s maternal grandfather’s name. Chosen not only to appease the man, a harsh fellow, who disapproved of his only daughter marrying a man whose family’s money was earned rather than inherited (her mother, you see, was from old money, since lost, but the name, and the pride, lingered). The selection of ‘Cyrielle’ appeased him, in part, and while he dotes on all his grandchildren, Meraud is a particular favourite as a result of her name. Azenari is a Basque surname, drawn from ‘azeri’ or ‘fox’. A rather good name for a family that makes their money through cleverness, isn’t it? FACECLAIM: Zoe Barnard (1) or Anya Chalotra (2)! AGE: 23 DETAILS: I found myself so, so torn between Temperance & the Lovers — I tend to go for the sapphic characters, and for Dishonored it was no different. I just adored Temperance when I read her skeleton, the way she was snobby and spoiled but still cultivating a friendship with the Hanged Man, the way she was spoiled and proud and too caught up in herself to appreciate or understand the pure love held by the World and the Lovers. She dreams of being a femme fatale, the protagonist, the heroine, but all she really is, is a spoiled little girl, with dreams and rages in turn, and no real understanding of the world around her beyond what she cares to see. There’s so much potential there, so much capacity for growing and changing, and, given the opportunity, my fingers itch to write it for her! BACKGROUND: What is this character’s history? Where do they come from? What makes them the way that they are? and little girl, who do you think you are? / you think you need it, you think you want love / you wouldn't want it if you knew what it was. The Azenari family was an old one, though not always a noble one. Dust off Tyrholm’s yellowing records and you will find them mentioned, a seafaring heritage, both in legal (merchant) and illegal (pirate) business. It was an easy profit, certainly, bringing luxuries and delights from across the world to bring tastes of warmth to the rocky city, and as they prospered, their power and influence grew. Gold and goods streamed into the city, and, newly ennobled — a gift from a long-past king, pleased at the benefits the port drew into his city, and seeking the influence he’d gain through their inclusion within his court — they flowered even as did the new exotic blooms in the castle’s greenhouse. Skip, then, ahead in the books by a century or two, to a more recent entry: a marriage, a joyful day, the union of Elazar Azenari and Nessa Enys. Scorned by a few in the bride’s family (no matter the hundreds of years which had passed since the Azenari family had been anything but noble, some clung to old prejudices, and a disdain for new money) but celebrated by most, the happy young couple set about their lives with futures light bright by Tyrholm’s most gifted candlemakers. Elazar was the oldest child, the heir to the docks and their wealth, raised to it all his life, and with the inevitable and long-expected passing of his mother provided him with all the responsibilities that came along with the family’s legacy, he shouldered them easily. Nessa was a sweet girl, enchanted by Elazar’s enthusiastic manner and the curious, whimsical gifts he brought her during their courtship, and any familial doubts about his heritage were more or less stifled by the economic reality: she was the youngest daughter of five, and her family could afford very little in the way of a dowry. And they did love each other, perhaps the most important detail of all, with a baby only eight months after, and another two years after, and a third, their only daughter and last child, a year after. Kenver & Ruan, born two years apart, and thick as thieves. Despite identifying quirks (the latter far prefers books and records, a born bookkeeper, the former in search of a knighthood even at a young age), many had trouble telling them apart, and the Azenari household was a rowdy thing before the birth of their youngest, their only girl, a long sought-after daughter: Meraud. She was spoiled, naturally, plied with treats, doted upon by her brothers, showered in delicacies from far-off lands, and grew to expect it all. Her mother taught her elegance, beauty, poise, things necessary for a lady of the Tyrholm nobility, and Meraud’s list of accomplishments and talents only grew as she grew older. She was an elegant thing, long legs, long eyelashes, a skilled dancer and successful flirt, the broken-hearted youth she left trailing after her as a teen only building her confidence, with nothing seeming to even approach shattering it. She had a place in the court, growing up alongside the World, never envying the other’s position or power, but simply glowing on the outskirts, a beautiful flower within the castle’s grey walls. She lacked nothing, and never really learned to distinguish between wants and needs — she received both, after all. Even a shattered engagement did little to impact her, at least not publicly, though inside she burned, hurt even though she refused to admit it to herself. After that, though, the world seemed a little less vibrant than it once had. Envy, loss (both of a friend who grew apart from her, a would-be engagement dissolved seemingly over nothing) hooked their claws in, and she grew spiteful, petulant. A girl who’d been raised to be good even to her lessers instead became disposed to throwing things at them, and many a servant quit rather than face one more morning of lighting a fire in her room only to face Meraud’s petulant rage at being awoken. Her parents refused to see the spoiled girl they’d raised, and continued only to dote upon her, and she grew consumed by herself. Whether the spell would break upon them, as her own refusal to see Tyrholm’s dark corners for anything beyond the home of velvet secrets, whispered confessions, has begun to fracture, remains to be seen. all the feeling was all or nothing / and i took everything I could Grew up very much spoiled by both & mom n dad who always wanted a girl both are awfully protective of her PLOT IDEAS: Regarding the Lovers & the World — I want Meraud to learn! To grow! It’s not as if she grew up without proper models of love in her life (her parents have a rather happy marriage, after all), but the rather superficial experiences she’s taken from the endless spoiling have rather overshadowed it all. Dependant on what the Lovers & the World’s writers want, and how those characters end up being written, I could see Meraud’s fascination with both going in a few directions. Temperance upright: peace, patience, harmony Meraud moves to a deeper comprehension of L&W’s relationship, learning to appreciate it rather than let it dig its claws deep with jealousy. The fire within her turns to soft, warming embers, rather than an inferno that threatens to consume her. Perhaps she learns to love the two platonically, appreciating their love for the beauty it holds, and embracing the importance of her own as different rather than lesser — maybe even finding a love of her own? (A little addition to this can be found in my headcanon regarding ‘Love’) Temperance reversed: discord, recklessness Meraud’s jealousy builds, spilling over, and she finds herself driven to hatred, rumours, gossip: she’s a rather experienced socialite, after all, and could very easily be pushed to attempts at driving a wedge between the two. I don’t see it working at all, really, rather a more tragic bitterness, perhaps that even leads her to work against the World in more political, less personal ways. Meraud! Getting! Woke! She’s closed her eyes to all that is wrong in Tyrholm for far too long, and though the process of opening her eyes has started, there’s a long path ahead for her. Though, frankly, the way she struggles with the dark side of the world may appear ridiculous to other characters, in light of all her privileges and a rather evident love of the luxurious, it’ll be rather overwhelming for her, and I foresee a great deal of gentle weeping on velvet couches with silken cloth dabbing gently at her eyes. I also do, eventually, imagine her pushing for the World as a leader. She does have a certain level of respect for them (fascination at them, longing for them?), and though I’d imaging depending how the above plot idea turns out, I can see her becoming a rather enthusiastic political supporter. Power She’s incredibly ineffectual, a spoiled young girl rather than the powerful figure she could be, if she wasn’t far too self-centered and petulant to achieve it. I’d like to see her grow into this potential, whether for good or ill in the end. She’s intelligent, witty, charming, if she tries, and if she gained a little more awareness of her own flaws, could certainly be a force to be reckoned with. CHARACTER DEATH: Strong yes! The ability to write a romantic, tragic ending for a character has so much potential, creativity-wise and can be incredibly satisfying, I’d love to write one for Meraud. WRITING SAMPLE Wide eyes veiled with dark lashes blink softly, brows furrowed. She’d been late in exiting her father’s office at the docks, summoned there for one reason or another, and had walked over with more than a little frown visible on her face. The gall he had! Meraud had things to do, and besides, the docks were the domain of Kenver and Ruan — she had little interest in the origins of the gilded jewelry upon her wrist, the satin gowns that draped delicately across her body. And then! Adding insult to injury, he father had forgotten their appointment. She’d waited, a dutiful daughter on occasion, but as an hour, then a second, passed, and his tousle-headed figure had remained absent, a fury had grown within her. She cared little for his rule about walking the docks alone. She’d not be here another minute, not wait around like one of her neglected dolls, but would return home herself. It was then, though, that the flaw appeared: far from the docks appearance on days she walked it with her brothers or her father, it was filled to the brim with loud, boorish men. She could smell the alcohol on their breath even from the office’s second-story window, and the things they said! Horrific, scandalous, disgusting, all of them. She shivered at the things they said, words about women that she’d never heard spoken before, ducking as one turned to face the open window. Their conversation turned to her father, and then, of course, to his family, filth in their words and in their intent shrinking her down upon the floor, silent sobs even as she drew her gown around her carefully. It was there her father found her, in the morning, a miscommunication evident in her day-early arrival. But the damage was done, then, in the vicious words of dockhands and pirates, merchants and sailors alike, even those she’d known as a child, her worldview shattered like a poorly-treated bit of porcelain. EXTRAS Anything you’d like can go here, whether that be a playlist, a pinterest board, some headcanons, or whatever you’d like to show us! pinterest board here: https://www.pinterest.ca/draconiform/01-meraud-azenari/ my occasionally serious occasionally not tag for meraud: https://draconicwrites.tumblr.com/tagged/ch%3A-meraud Also wow wow I listened to a lot of ‘Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812’ while writing this app and Natasha……. kindred spirit? So I’ve included some applicable lyrics below that I feel really apply to Meraud (or in many cases, apply to how she sees herself) From Natasha & Bolkonskys: And from the first glance I do not like Natasha / Too fashionably dressed / Frivolous and vain / Her beauty, youth, and happiness From the Opera: Pearls and silk / Glittering before our eyes / Feminine envy / A whole crowd of memories / Desires and emotions  &   They are looking at me / They are talking about me! / They all like me so much / The women envious / The men calming their jealousy Headcanons Pets — Meraud has two primary animals in her life. The first, a fluffy black longhaired cat, is named Parceval, and is more of a family pet. Not the typical mouser seen at the docks, he’s elegant, perhaps even a little snooty, despite his questionable origins. Meraud’s father brought him home as a kitten, even then filled with disdain, a stray discovered by a merchant among his wares. He had no interest in the childrens games, and instead grew, well, not fat, per say, but certainly a little plump, spending nights in front of the fire, well adored (as he should be). The second is Eme, a little songbird named for the emerald she so resembles. She’s a beautiful little creature, who adores Meraud, and is perhaps the creature she most loves (and loves unselfishly) outside members of her own family. Love — Were Tyrholm the modern day, we could call Meraud pansexual. She sees little difference between her capacity for infatuation for men or for any other gender (I hesitate to call it ‘love’, as she doesn’t quite understand the concept, but she could certainly be attracted romantically and sexually to anyone.) The problem, however, is that she’s picky. Meraud is rather self-centered, and the person she’d allow herself to care for must be similarly high-quality: wealthy, pleasing in appearance, fascinating in conversation… I’d rather like her to fall for someone that doesn’t meet these standards, because I think it’d be a good learning experience for her.