#father entrati

[finlaena]

Hope

This took on a lot of different meanings over the past week I've been working on this, and the overall theme I ended up conveying came through pretty well, I think!

[toasty-tealeaf]

Tennotober day 16: "Family"

I really wanted to see them healing together and having some quality time. So how about a nice fishing trip?

[upsidedownsmore]

imagine being so powerful that you can just walk up to one of the seven executors and be like "build me a woman with EXQUISITE anatomy who can time travel and play hacky sack" lmao

[silence-of-autumn42]

Kinda frustrating to me that Loid has taken over from Euleria as the primary "victim" of Albrecht's machinations. Euleria has suffered far more because of Albrecht's actions than Loid has, imo. The apparent majority of her adult life was spent chasing the ghost of her father, who she believed was missing or vanished. It deeply affected her relationships with others, and it heavily influenced her academic career as well. And she was lied to and manipulated by her father, by Loid, and by Father/Vilcor throughout.

Its pretty clear to me that Albrecht didn't have a great opinion of his daughter. When he discusses her in his Requiem Vitruvian, he talks about raising her with "inconsistent vigour", indicating that he was a rather absent father (to go alongside her never mentioned again mother [let albrecht be bisexual dammit]), but despite this, she clearly still held a high opinion of him, one that Albrecht believed to be a lie. The next time he discusses her is in his Laboratory Notes fragments, specifically when he arrives in Duviri. There's no mention of her in the aftermath of the Void excursion, only of Loid, despite the fact it was Euleria who activated the machine that allowed Albrecht's journey. This discussion of Euleria is not particularly flattering. He describes her writing Tales of Duviri based on his old stories as "trivial", and her motives he initially believed to be "pastoral attentiveness", as though she was motivated by enforcing some religious doctrine. All of this, to me, indicates that Albrecht believes his daughter to be, at the very least, naive and motivated by less than virtuous intentions. And while he does recognise that this opinion is incorrect, he still never involves her in his plans, lets her know he's alive, or even leaves her a message.

Yes, what Albrecht did to Loid sucked. Making a replica of your boyfriend's brain to keep him company while you fuck off back in time is a really dick move. But Loid was, frankly, complicit in Albrecht's deception of Euleria, especially once Father/Vilcor got involved. Yes, there's clearly a power dynamic in their relationship, and it's unlikely that Loid could outright disobey Albrecht based on their social castes, but he nonetheless still kept things a secret, and let Euleria believe her father was dead or gone.

Someone should give Albrecht a "System's Worst Dad" mug. He can fight for it with Hunhow and Ballas.

[gillyeowalters]

This was for a mono-color shadow challenge. Father and son/daughter. (Yes, I traced the Railjack-mobile from a screenshot, I am sorry).

Pose reference by ScharlieCharlieCharlie.

[venture-through-the-mist]

Tennotober 2024

My collection of works based on the Tennotober 2024 prompts.

Hi all! I wanted to take part in Tennotober 2024, but I also knew that I wouldn’t be able to draw 31 art pieces, so I’m doing some fics instead!

The Warframe Tennotober 2024 Prompt List can be found here: https://forums.warframe.com/topic/1412660-official-tennotober-2024-megathread/

Day 15: Wedding: Fondness Lingers, Even In Wounded Souls

The Entrati family has changed drastically, has lived through wrath and loss and pain. They will never again be who they once were, yet perhaps there is merit in who they are now, and their connections to one another — new and old alike.

TW:

Mentions of paranoia, anger issues, and other mental health issues.

Going off of the above warning, there are brief, non-graphic mentions of the canon-typical domestic abuse—mainly physical, though you might see verbal if you squint—that comes with this family, as well as the lingering emotional impacts of that.

Memory issues due to the Infestation.

Just as another note, this piece does switch from Vilcor’s POV to Gomaitru’s POV about half(ish)way through. I tried to make the transition pretty smooth so it didn’t break up the flow of the story, but I do apologize if it’s a little unclear. Also, as I’m sure y’all might’ve gathered by now, this will have spoilers for Rank 5 with the Entrati family.

With everything out of the way, the fic begins under the cut.

She’s still the woman he married.

Somewhere, locked away in the far recesses of his mind, in one of the few places that hasn’t been consumed by the Infestation that worms its way into his thoughts, is a memory. It’s muddled, faces blurred and names obscured, but it’s still mostly intact. Or, rather, the important parts are.

It was a lavish ceremony—no, it wasn’t…was it? That doesn’t sound right, somehow—, but his focus hadn’t been on the sea of experts, nor had it been on their parents—his, he manages to recall…her father was already gone by then—, no. He had paid no attention to them, to the saccharine smiles and the practiced niceties that their kind was so well known for. 

His eyes were solely on her.

Her expression had been seared into his mind, those sharp, azure eyes boring into his soul, the corner of her lip turned into the faintest hint of a smirk. The dress she wore was flawless, of course, milky-white with golden accents, and her hair had been done into a style not much different from what she normally wore, save the ceremonial rings and beads adorning it. She hated it, he remembers. She had despised taking time away from her precious research to be primped and preened like some ornamental songbird. It didn’t matter anyways. Not to him.

He would’ve married her even in peasant’s clothes.

He remembers sitting next to each other, late that night, after everyone left, after all the superficial flatteries were done with. She had scoffed at him as he placed his hand next to her own. One hand rough, calloused, its nails cut short—and cleaned of oil and other debris, for once. The other, thin—not delicate, never delicate—, with sharp angles and even sharper nails, manicured so they were flawless. Despite their differences, both were united by the thin, ornately-carved gilded bands that wrapped around their ring fingers. 

That damn ring had been a bitch to find, something that wouldn’t be cumbersome as she worked, but was adequately stunning for a being of her station. He’d eventually turned to one of his colleagues—an engineer with an odd knack for metallurgy—to create it.

The ghost of a rare, genuine smile had danced on her lips, covered by a pointed insult that he knew she didn’t truly mean.

He did love her. He still does.

That’s why it hurt so much, watching as her paranoia heightened, her descent quickened by the Infestation that stole her memories, that had twisted those which remained into something toxic.

It was easier to bear the brunt of her fury than it would’ve been to break what was left of her heart.

It was easier to pretend that he hated her.

Regrettably, a part of him wasn’t pretending for a long time. He learned from his wife, learned to do what she did, to lean into his anger—his hurt—, let it consume him. Only when their Ayatan gave them the opportunity to mend the cracks did he realize that it did no one any good to keep blaming her for everything.

One mistake doesn’t change his love for her.

Not if he doesn’t allow it to.

His wedding band is gone, lost somewhere in the Necralisk with the long-decayed remnants of his left arm. He doesn’t know if she kept hers, what with all the animosity that’s gone around. It doesn’t matter, he realizes. Those bands symbolized who they were, but they’ve all changed. Perhaps not entirely for the better, but that doesn’t make it any less true. They’re scarred, and sometimes he finds himself unsure that he feels entirely comfortable with her, after everything—his body still aches on bad days like it did all those years ago.

But they’re together.

So, he finds himself moving through the tunnels, slipping around the corner towards her post. He finds himself under the scrutiny of those piercing, ice-cold eyes—the eyes that still ignite something within him, some feeling of warmth that fights its way from beneath the weight of his scars—, as he holds out his hand to her. He hopes that he isn’t imagining the way the edges of her gaze soften slightly, her jaw relaxing just barely.

His hand hangs in the air.

Waiting.

Her husband is flawed. She knows that well. She has punished him for it countless times—the uncomfortable feeling of regret is one that she is still learning to endure—, and yet, she has only recently begun to let go of her rage in an attempt to understand. 

He had only wished to help her, in his own misguided—idiotic—way. She recognizes that now, though a part of her still does not wish to accept it. That part of her still screams of betrayals and conspiracies and plots against her. 

He will leave her. He will destroy her.

Just like all the others.

She can stop that from happening if she strikes first.

With some difficulty, she ignores the voices which threaten to send her back into her fury. She decides that, for the first time in a very long time, she will not hide behind her anger. She will no longer use it as a weapon to destroy what has finally started to mend. Her tongue will remain sharp, her words pointed like the thinnest of blades, but, she rationalizes, they are used to that. She never was a weak-willed being. One can be coarse without being cruel. It is time that she remembers how. 

She did trust him once.

Her memories have fallen prey to the Infestation—more-so than the others’, evidently—, and she finds that she is unable to recall most details from before. Whenever she seeks them out, she only finds glimpses, fragments of larger moments, the context unknown to her. 

His warm, ultramarine gaze is in more of those shards than she would care to admit.

The thin, gold band presses against her neck, hidden from view behind the larger pendant. She does not remember when she had placed it there, nor the reason why. She attempts to deny the fact that her skin prickles uncomfortably at the thought of losing it, similar to how it had burned at the thought of giving up the only connection to her father.

But that shard had never been a connection to her father at all, had it?

The ring is, however, a link to her former self. It is a link to him. 

In her darkest moments, she had contemplated tearing it from its place, discarding—destroying—the ring and thus her connection to the pathetic being that she had married. 

She knows not of why she never followed through with that thought.

She is secretly relieved that the ring remains where it is.

Her gaze narrows as he moves towards her. Suspicion and fury and disgust coil around the recesses of her mind, scratching at her thoughts, attempting to provoke her wrath once more. He holds his hand out, and something new flickers through her, winding through the negativity, forcing it to quiet. It forces her to confront her more difficult emotions. 

She still cares for him.

After a few patient moments, Gomaitru slowly takes Vilcor’s hand. Her fingers entwine with his, the callouses feeling familiar beneath her skin. His muscles are slightly tense, holding a wariness within that she doubts will disappear simply because his mind has begun to forgive her. She feels the pendant on her neck shift slightly, and notices surprise dance through his gaze, his warm eyes lingering on the strip of gold that lies behind it. She fights back the urge to snap defensively, to build up that barbed shell once more, the armor which harmed others in the interest of self-preservation.

She used to think herself incapable of regret, a mentality which nearly cost her everything.

She prides herself on her intelligence, yet it had become twisted into paranoia.

Her husband has his flaws, it is true. But, although her stomach twists uncomfortably at the admission, she is finally realizing that she does as well. As she releases her grip, huffing a remark that she knows he is aware that she does not fully mean, a tiny ember of a thought ignites amidst the hissing voice of the Infestation.

He is still the man she married.

[alteredsilicone]

Also this is a less serious lore analysis or wtv but

I find it funny that Mother doesn't remember her own name but she remembers how the Orokin didn't respect Albrecht's work. Like, she really knows how to hold a grudge.

I know the whole "the infestation has scrambled their memories" is a bit of a plot contrivance because there are no real rules of how much the Entrati have forgotten, but on a meta sense it's funny.

What's more Orokin than a millennia old beef?

[xelitzenith]

I have a headcanon that the thing around Albrecht's neck is a kind of heart locket and inside is a hologram of him and Euleria

[spearofthetenno]

Are we forgetting that the previous version of Asu told us that their operator flirts with Daughter of the necrlisk? I'm sure that's unfortantly very normal amoung operators

Considering Reiner does the same thing, the less I talk about that particular part of Tenno culture the better.

[diggity-didge]

I think we need to give that dysfunctional Entrati family iphones ASAP. I want them to be a fucked up family vlog channel where they all have their own social media accounts. They have a jillion subscribers but half of them are out of horror. Like yes someone needs to call the police but also notifications are on for their next post

Their most popular video is the candy salad/trauma dump trend. There ends up being a fistfight and it goes viral

They have, for better or worse, become a part of internet culture. Reaction images, video clips, memes, quotes, have all come from their videos. People dress up as them for "meme day" during spirit weeks.

Their let's play streams are INSANE. Yelling, cursing, airing family secrets out, the whole nine yards. Father and Daughter usually win if the game includes PvP/fighting

People can’t tell if they’re rich or not. They have a very large house filled with technology, and are all obviously very intelligent, but their house seems constantly overtaken by rot and vermin and is even crumbling in some places? They don’t seem to mind so fans pretend it isn’t there

Father has a podcast. This is...interesting, as he becomes especially popular with divorced men, but also some of the younger generations think he’s funny because his dad energy is evident. Definitely calls himself the grill master or something corny

Otak and his brother Loid are the family’s housekeeper/utilities guy/family friend and a fan favorite. Two of the most "normal" people featured on the channel

The favorite family member isn’t even related to them by blood. It’s some guy (gender neutral) named Tenno (nicknamed Ayatan) who is the only guest star to date to not attempt to punch Son’s lights in

They all call each other by their family title, and fans don’t know if its either a running bit, they hate each other so much that they refuse to call each other by their name, or the chemicals they’re constantly using in videos has finally got to them. (It's actually a disease so rare they are some of the only currently documented cases, and it's known to mess with memory)

Daughter has a fishing channel. People would use her videos as studying background noise until she started butchering fish on-camera. A lot of her videos get taken down for excessive violence and PETA absolutely HATES her ass. However, swamp and large aquatic animal hunters SWEAR by her DIY bait videos

Son becomes an influencer. This is bad for everyone because he’s constantly doing callouts that are always obvious at who they’re targeted at. He’s especially popular with the queer community because there’s no way someone that bitchy isn’t bisexual and his cadence of speaking is basically textbook gay lisp. Posts shit like “GRWM and storytime: how a family member COLLARED ME over an INCONSEQUENTIAL MISTAKE”

Mother has an educational channel. She’s extremely good at teaching but has also traumatized generations of “her children” (middle school to phD students) when she reads their comments or takes fan calls. (“You watched all my videos but STILL only got a 63%? PATHETIC! Unsubscribe until you succeed. Half-baked scholars have no need to follow me.”)

One time Tenno performed CPR (?) on the family’s power supply which was in the shape of a heart (??) It’s unsure whether or not it was staged and whether the power supply was fit for human use

When they all post apology videos to each other and begin to not hate each other’s guts, the Internet freaks the FUCK out (they finally got medicated and were forced to talk shit out)

Grandmother is a popular recurring guest and KNOWS it. Constantly reads her family to filth and comments under posts by her family with "Grand MOTHER 💜"

So many fans and other youtubers have entire multiple hours long video essays dedicated to them to figure out what the hell is going on. Anytime the family guests on another channel or podcast the mystery gets deeper and deeper. Is it black mold? Genetics? Sheer human hatred? Who knows!

[agoddamn]

Tales of Duviri is a storybook written by Euleria Entrati for the purpose of teaching children how to handle the manic flood of emotion that comes with Void exposure.

I pose a question: why does Euleria feel so strongly about this?

Her interactions with her own children are... let's call them wanting, and dialog implies that the negative aspects of their relationship--her denigrating, controlling nature, the distrust, etc--did not begin only after the Infestation brainrot set in.

We also know that she holds her father in extremely high esteem, but Albrecht did not think much of Tales of Duviri (see: him talking about his previous disdain for it in his own Duviri notes). Euleria put resources into writing Tales of Duviri instead of more traditional science, and Albrecht did not think much of it.

So why did Euleria write Tales of Duviri?

Let's rewind a step. Void exposure-induced mania, the whole thing Tales of Duviri is written to help manage.

How was that discovered and studied? It clearly was studied, enough to be a recognized condition and for the Orokin to build the iso vaults and for Euleria to write Tales of Duviri. But who would they have observed this mania in if Void research was an abandoned dead-end line of study?

Perhaps...the man obsessed with the Void who'd survived an unshielded Void dive?

Euleria had patient zero of Void mania sitting at her dinner table. Albrecht is the character who's undoubtedly had the most Void exposure.

Albrecht himself must have exhibited the Void mania and mood swings that Tales of Duviri exists to teach caution of.

And that's why Euleria wrote it; she had this gyroscope of a mood swing at home. She admired Albrecht too much to consciously deride his lack of control as irresponsible and so she channeled her energy into writing Tales of Duviri instead.

The emotion spirals of Duviri are loosely based off of what Euleria witnessed in the Entrati household and particularly Albrecht himself.

I don't believe that any courtier is a 1:1 translation of a member of the Entrati household, but more that their toxic interactions and dramatic heights reflected things that Euleria herself saw--or lived.

This reading of the Duviri characters and story--that they mean things to Euleria specifically--gives us a fun new lens to look at all of the chapters with.

For example, Mathila.

"Two children, and no memory of her husband. Poor Mathila."

Two children like Euleria herself, eh?

Mathila loved her husband. He also textually does not exist. He's not on the screen or in the text. He is a memory, and one that Mathila herself cannot even remember. There is no portrayal of their love.

Pivot to a writer's perspective. You need to write a loving relationship. You look to real life for inspiration, right? If you're a married woman needing to write a married woman in love, you naturally look to your own relationship.

And if you can't find anything to base that love off of? Well...move that character offscreen. Just tell about the loving relationship, don't show. Actually, do you even have anything to tell about? Well. Move the entire loving relationship offscreen, then. She's got amnesia. Nobody needs to talk about the love to sell it or make it feel real now. The narrator can simply mention it as a fact and it need not be challenged. Euleria doesn't have to imagine a loving family life between a husband and wife and their two children and question why that's hard for her. There. Problem fucking solved.

Another parallel that fairly started screaming at me once I started considering that the Duviri courtiers had meaning to Euleria specifically: Luscinia.

"I was created to be Sorrow, written into being, to serve as a lesson... can that change?"

Luscinia knows that she is a tool. As much as she dreams of being more, she knows very well that she is a tool--both a literal narrative element to teach a lesson and within the story itself Thrax's servant (his personal songbird).

Is there anyone in Euleria's life who might have some angst over their position as a tool? A servant who wants to escape the limited definitions of their role?

And so... here I am, back to my old role. The diligent servant. Albrecht would have smiled at that, I think.

Loid. It's Loid.

Luscinia: "This structure and I share much. Both of us once useful, both of us discarded, both of us now derelict. Both forgotten." Loid: "How might this relic make himself useful today?"

Both Luscinia and Loid are also capable of surprising amounts of ruthless violence. Luscinia has no hesitation telling you to kill the Dax or otherwise wreak vengeance on her jailers. Loid's Necramech lines feature him ranging from being excited for ensuing violence to coldly promising the Murmur regret.

The Duviri Tales were a subconscious form of therapy for Euleria herself as well, allowing her to write a story where emotional explosions were a problem that must be addressed rather than a social struggle to be suffered through at the whims of the more powerful.

[lichofhams]

Inaros X Qorvex

Disclaimer: This story is a headcanon to the story of Warframe. Content contains innuendos alluding to risqué topics but do not describe them, and is thus 18+. The Warframes depicted are separate from their operators and function as their own beings than being controlled through transference. This is just a fan fiction story for fun. Reader’s discretion is advised.

[Story 1]

It’s been roughly 3 solar cycles since the God King of Mars had left his tomb in search for different ventures in the Origin system. Much has changed since his days of remaining idle in his ruins, but it appears the king has settled on a moon nearby his home, Deimos. He was no stranger to infested, the beasts of boils and what little kinship he shared with them. But he called upon familiar creatures to devour them in the form of Feral Kavats, lunging towards them and clearing the way for the gilded royalty as he struts up to the sphere that was the Necralisk.

Once through the double doors, he wasn’t given a king’s greeting by the Entrati, only scoffs and reminders of the old war where he served the “Golden Skymen”. Their son merely dismissive of the king’s request to find lodging. Their Daughter too busy with the melodies of another time from her Somachord. The Father would rather talk with him about the old days of primed weaponry and what he could offer offensively. And the mother, treating him as merely a Warframe and nothing else. “There’s work to do” she’d say, shooing him as he declined the offer to go back out into the pulsating wastes he had just escaped from.

Down on his luck like a relic cracked to handful of Ducats, he merely sat at a spot near shards of Seriglass. And there he saw him, another Warframe! Clad in warm grey armor, nailed to his sculpted frame of a body. The glow of radiating red energy from between the cracks of that floating brutalist design of his, and that stable stature as he spoke to the old lady that emerged from the flesh flower. They were speaking, something about needing expertise on decorating something down below where “The Necraloid” was going towards. Inaros only got a few minutes to gander at this stranger before the old woman noticed, giving him a smile before gesturing to the king of sands.

“I see you staring. Don’t be shy, dearie! Come along, introduce yourself!” She’d open kindly, with her longer arm waving over for the king to approach.

The king would approach. Slowly but with his usual decorum as he does on Mars, his head held high and his mannerism almost martian-like as he kept his arms crossed together whenever stood straight.

“I…am the Great King of the Sands, God King of Mars, defender of the red planet and…occasional practitioner in Baro Ki’Teer’s fine wares…Inaros. My presence welcomes you. “He’d look to the other, motionless in his pose while the other stared.

“Oh umm….Qorvex. Sentry of the Entrati property, bulwark of …a secret location, and ‘Hard Head’ according to Dante. I still don’t understand what that means. Umm…pleasure to meet you, your majesty!” He replied, awkwardly extending his hand to the other and waiting for him to reciprocate the gesture.

Inaros would respond by extending his hand over, unfamiliar with such a casual display. With his fingers lightly hooking Qorvex’s hands, he’d lightly shake them.

“The pleasure is all mine…Am I to assume you are a servant of this..Entrati you say?” The king asked, curious as to who the other warframe answered to.

“Yes, Entrati. And it’s the family name of all the residents here. But I shouldn’t discuss such details so openly in the Necralisk. If the Necraloid permits, perhaps we could continue this topic somewhere beyond the door of Obols? “ Qorvex would gesture with both hands, as if to tell the king to follow him down the hallway towards the room where the Necraloid resides.

Normally, Qorvex is able to pass freely because of his permission as a defender of the levels below, but Inaros had to wait outside while the stony servant discussed with his higher up about introducing this foreign noble into what lies below. They did need more help…especially when trying times are to come with what the Tenno are preparing for.

Minutes would pass as Inaros stood outside the mysterious golden door, solid to the touch yet ethereal as soon as Qorvex reemerged from it. The king had been bored within these few ticks, keeping still like he always does yet…slightly tempted to tap at the flat plates of metal that shined like his own.

“I got the approval from Loid; you’ll have to put this on before you’re allowed in.” Qorvex would state to Inaros, holding out a “Gargoyle’s Cry” emblem to put on his shoulder. However, Inaros merely stood there. Expecting the other to pin it for him.

“…Well?...Are you not going to apply this symbol onto me? “Inaros asked, confused at the other’s lack of action.

“Oh uh…right. “He’d respond, placing the emblem onto Inaros’ left shoulder before opening his hand to guide the king in through the curtain of Obols.

Step by step, the two would walk towards the room decorated with strange symbols before spiraling down a flight of stairs towards a new door. Once open, the king now basked in the vast mystery that was the Sanctum Atomica.

Despite being several depths below the plagued plains that was the Cambion Drift, this space from within…it was massive. Infinite one could even say, with a void of seemingly nothingness over the horizon where the cliffs ended. And yet, it reminded him of home. The grains of sands that flowed along the floor of the base, the warm light and gleaming fixtures along the walls that surrounded them. Etched words into the walls, the schematics of a mad scientist yet familiar like the symbols of his own home.

Inaros was awed, it was everything he wished his kingdom still remained as before he was shut into his slumber years ago. Descending down the stairs, his fingers traced at the golden railings leading up to what seemed like a broken sarcophagus. His clawed nails, lightly clinging onto it before he heard a man clear his throat from behind them.

“Ahem..I’d appreciate if you didn’t fiddle with that device, vessel. Only my Albrecht knew how it worked and I doubt you’d want to fashion it into some makeshift bed for your idle time..”Spoke the well-dressed man, hair combed back and glasses framed to examine the king.“So this is the warframe you brought to aid us in our time of need, Qorvex? The God King of Mars?... I expected someone more focused on their survival than the shine of their trim.”

“And…you are? “The king would ask, lowering his head with armed crossed as if to oppose this gentleman.

“Loid…Butler of the Entrati family and current head of operations here at the Sanctum Atomica. Had it not been for Qorvex’s insistence on bringing you into the fray, I would’ve left you upstairs to do Euleria’s errand work..”Loid would reply, a sliver of snark in his words as he pushed his glasses up to his nose.

“I’d…watch..your..tone, Butler” Inaros would step forward, attempting to close the distance between them as the sand around his feet started to whirl. But before he could meet him eye-to-eye, the concrete cladded sentry would come between them.

“Now now! Let’s not get hasty, shall we?” He said, getting between the two. “Loid, you have some work to discuss with Dante, don’t you? I think he’s in his retreat. How’s about I give Inaros a tour of the Sanctum?”

The two haughty men stared at one another, glare to glare before disconnecting their gaze. Loid would attend to his duties as usual, while waving off Qorve to do as he pleased with the king of sands. Inaros would still stare daggers at the butler, like a Karyst Prime ready to strike. But before he could respond, Qorvex tugged him palm in hand and brought him from spot to spot around the enclosure.

Slowly he’d introduce him to each of the Cavia. The enigmatic Fibonacci, as proud as his tank was bloated to fit his ego. The two would have much to discuss as Inaros found himself discussing with the Norg about niche concepts, etiquette and even the necessity of water to wash one’s self off from gunk. Though Inaros would also turn to Qorvex to a moment, asking him the following.

“Tell me, servant…Would you perhaps be able to bathe me?” The King raised, a mere question but not a request.

“I-I’m sorry…what? “Qorvex asked, confused and…slightly caught off guard.

“Bathe me! With water! My frame tends to collect a lot of sand and debris after roaming the deserts a lot. Would you perhaps be open to it?” He asked, spinning his hand as he explained.

“I umm…would I need to partake as well? “He asked, still confused by his hypothetical.

“Well..I don’t see why not. You will need be under the spray of water with me if you want to reach every nook and cranny, won’t you? “The king would reply, an answer to the question but…this only raised more questions. Qorvex remained quiet for the rest of the tour after his phrasing, keeping his hands together as he led Inaros to Bird-3, then Tagfer. But all the while, one could have sworn that the warframe’s crimson glow turned slightly more red. All while he stared at the position of the two vessels within the sanctum, almost with a weary sigh.

Once the tour was done, Qorvex merely led him to one of Albrecht’s empty rooms. Beamed by harsh skylight from beyond the elongated window, it contrasted the dark room they were in. A chair pulled up, Qorvex would look to Inaros expecting him to sit.

“Well…this is it. It’s not much, but it’s the only spare room I could find, your Majesty. “The stone sentry would state, before tapping away towards the door.

But instead of hearing the creak of the chair behind him, he felt something grab him…His wrist, held by Inaros?

“It…is enough, servant. May I request one thing of you? “The king would ask, staring at him. “Sit…Please. “

Qorvex was confused, turning to face the golden other as the two were illuminated by the light from the window. Silence took the air for a few seconds before he sat down on the rose cushioned seat.

“Servant…how long have you served in this sanctum for? “The king asked.

“A century or two? Maybe a millennia?It’s hard to tell because of how time works here..” Qorvex would reply.

“And throughout all these many years, why have I never encountered you? “The golden king said, tilting his head with his hands behind his back.

“I..don’t know. I suppose it was because I was made to serve and protect the labs here? “The cladded servant replied, lowering his head as he felt like he was a mere Necramite running routines.

“No…it was because you were made to be by my side” The king would say, approaching Qorvex with his hand open.

“I-i…what? “ Qorvex was stunned, he didn’t know if the king was merely being pretentious or…genuine?

“My servant…no…Qorvex…Since my arrival on Deimos. No other soul has batted an eye to me once I entered pass those gilded doors. The Orokin family merely turned their gaze away from my greatness, their parents merely dwelled in the past of what I was during the Old War…and the fumbling machines didn’t pay me any mind. But you…you saw me for what I was, and uttered me words I hadn’t heard in a very long time… ‘Your Majesty’…You stared at me with radiance as if I was the Martian sun, yet you kept gaze constant despite such radiance that could blind..”

Inaros would look to Qorvex, lowering himself to a kneel in order to be on level with him as he spoke. After a few short seconds, he stood back up and cleared his throat. “Perhaps…you have duties on your mind. You are dismiss-“

Qorvex would cut him off, lifting his head to look back at him. “Your Majesty… “He uttered, causing Inaros to watch as Qorvex stood eye-to-eye with him. “Do you mean what you said? “The sentry asked, his armor shaking as if something was quaking within him.

Inaros would then extend his right hand to Qorvex, placing it on his cheek before answering. “Every word of it…Don’t think your wants went unnoticed. I saw how you stared at the two vessels out there. You were loudest despite your silence..”His nails lightly brushing along the concrete surface of his helmet, with endearment. Qorvex would extend his hand in return, holding onto the king’s right arm as he leans his head into the other’s palm.

“I didn’t think I’d find a home after I left Mars, Qorvex. But the sands of the sanctum, the royal trim of this place…even the rough touch of your armor reminds me of the sarcophagus I rest in…I feel most in place while I am by your side. “The king would lean in, pulling Qorvex into an embrace as the two hold still for a moment. Inaros’s arms crossed over one another but now along Qorvex’s back.

From that day onward, the God King of Mar stayed. No longer wandering from node to node for a new home after its desecration, but finding a new one and…a new person by his side. The coming months were not less busy though, with the two protecting the Sanctum Atomica from the Murmur and rogue Culverin as they ventured into Deep Archimedia. But the two would be at each other’s side. And perhaps even under a Chyrinka Pillar ;)

[END OF STORY 1]

[violencedistrictresident]

one of my fav things about warframe is how it has like over 5 characters who are some sort of father figures and all of them are completely insane.

congrats to father entrati whatever your name was for winning the most normal dad award🥳

[gillyeowalters]

Sometimes I just log into Warframe to talk to father. He brings me not as much happiness as my actual father does, but it comes close.

Nobody can tell me that this man isn't adorable when he says stuff like this:

"Wish I could be there to see you open this."

And every time he says something like "Don't tell mother" it reminds me of when my dad would secretly give me a piece of chocolate or candy (I wasn't allowed to eat any sweets because my mum had an irrationally strong fear of me getting diabetes).

I really wish we would learn more about his previous life; it would tell us so much about Orokin society simce he probably wasn't born Orokin.

[finlaena]

Coming soon: A special pin I'll be handing out at TennoCon this July!

The Razorflies' design is from a TennoGen skin that I worked on with the inimitable, incredible BlazingCobalt (who designed so many incredible TennoGen skins and helmets that we'd be here all day to list and gush over): Netrafae Titania!

She was more designed after the Necramechs than the general Entrati aesthetic, but Cobalt worked their magic to push it in a direction that has far surpassed my wildest dreams and even though it's not an approved skin -yet! Don't forget, we only just got our first Entrati-themed weapon skin-, seeing it realized in 3D at all still makes me all verklempt and weepy (in a good way).

Also included is Father's Token... IYKYK! 💜💛💚

p.s. Here's the Steam Workshop page for Netrafae Titania. See if you can find the Father Entrati easter egg on her! ;>

[cardinalgoldenbrow]

After playing Whispers in the Walls, I wonder if one of the reasons that Euleria Entrati married Father/Vilcor is because she saw that Albrecht and Loid couldn't be together publicly because of caste differences.

She wanted someone who could be her partner in work (the way Loid helped Albrecht every step of the way) and in public. Which is why she's so disappointed in Father when they've systematically failed to find Albrecht...and eventually comes to appreciate Vilcor for what he's really good at once she lets go of her father's ghost.

The whole Entrati family needs therapy. But I guess that's why they adopted a Tenno, right?