#geanais ironwill

[thatonebirbnerd]

At some point, I took some fresh pics of Geanais, but I never posted them here - so here they are.

[thatonebirbnerd]

Posts that activate me like a sleeper agent....

Despite the fact that it was abducted (fulfilling its Dream) and technically killed before being taken to a blighting pod, Bláithín gives approximately zero fucks about the whole experience and somehow recovered from the dragon's influence almost immediately. As far as they're concerned, Mordremoth was a way to get better at fighting, even though Bláithín wasn't conscious at the time - they weren't a commander but climbed high up in the ranks and retained their skills. She may have lost her old semblance of beauty under its influence, but in her view, this is who she was on the inside anyway. Plus, her intimidating size, features, and remaining ley energy powers are an asset for a leader of a Nightmare splinter faction.

Geanais fought Mordremoth the whole way through, causing both physical and psychological consequences. She was a liability to both sides and was forced to strike out on her own, attempting to resist murderous rage as much as she could. After Mordremoth's death, she chose to walk home so that she could spend the most time possible picking up the pieces of herself, and is now a mentor to saplings.

Hawys was doomed to fail in their Wyld Hunt, and Mordremoth's influence transformed them and their pet into a sylvari-wyvern chimera. Unable to rejoin sylvari society due to essentially being a reptile half the time, they assigned themselves the solitary task of clearing out Mordrem after the dragon's death. They call it penance, though they don't have to explain it to very many people anymore.

question for my fellow mordrem-havers:

what was it like for them under the dragon's influence? if they weren't 'born' mordrem, what was their corruption experience? how are they handling life without the dragon?

[thatonebirbnerd]

Recovery is an uphill battle.

I have to keep reminding myself that I’m no longer there.

Sometimes... it’s hard to stay convinced.

[thatonebirbnerd]

Appearances Can Be Deceiving

Prompt: Cryptids

Word count: 1343

Trigger warnings: Minor violence, body horror (description and image of aftermath)

Man, does coming back to writing feel good. This story is set around 1329.

AO3 link

---

“Haven’t you heard, Tolaug? There’s a terrible Mordrem in the Grove. I’ve been told stories of how it steals away young saplings, and drains them of life with its shimmering scarlet blade…”

My charr partner and I are sitting in a tavern outside Hoelbrak, enjoying a mug of the local beer as we plan our next adventure.

We call ourselves thrillseekers. The proper words would probably be “bounty hunter,” but that’s passe. We’ll do whatever earns us a living, and that’s easier to do in pairs.

“How have the Wardens not caught it? Surely such a huge, twisted creature would be hard to miss.”

“I don’t know.”

“Me either. But sounds like a cash prize waiting to happen. I like those.”

“Sounds like a plan. One Maguuma-style bonfire, coming right up.”

Hopefully this job doesn’t cause anything spectacular.

---

“Welcome, travelers. Please state your identities and business in the Grove.”

“Yes, Warden. I’m Hanne; the charr is Tolaug. We’re here to make… an arrest. We’ve tracked a Nightmare Court spy into the city.”

So far, so good. She’s always been the better liar.

“With all due respect, Hanne, such a case would be our business. The Wardens can take it from h-”

Not good. I unsheath my dagger, and feel a little fire in my veins. Hanne would tell me I’m getting too ready, too quickly.

“Trust us. It’ll be fine. This help?” My norn partner hands the warden a few gold pieces, and he sighs.

“If you insist. Don’t disappoint us, or we’re sending you home, by force.”

Bummer. Extortion worked. Ah, well; we’ll have plenty more knife time later.

---

Tolaug is disappointed. I can hear it in his breath, for Raven’s sake - he’s just growling to himself. “Cheer up, buddy,” I console him. “Sun’s about to set - we’re just in time. Let’s get hunting.”

“Ale first.”

“Do the sylvari even have that?”

“Time to find out.”

---

We decided to kill some time at one of the taverns. Tried some blackberry mead. Tasted an acidic sort of sugary, almost sickly-sweet, but certainly made us feel like we could stay on the chase for hours. All good things must come to an end, though. Night’s fallen, and the Grove and all its people have begun to glow. Hanne calls it “bioluminescence.” Reminds me of the Foefire, but not just blue - rather, every color imaginable.

“Alright, Hanne,” I remark as I stand up from the bar stool. “Excited for some action?”

“Couldn’t be more ready.”

---

From all the research I’ve done on this Mordrem killer, it doesn’t glow in the dark like other sylvari. I’ve made a sketch of it, compiled from all the accounts. It’s massive and covered in thick corrupted bark, with piercing red eyes - some say it has three of them, in fact - and an organic blade at its hip that’s tainted with dragon magic. Difficult to miss.

Now all that’s left is to find this odd creature out.

---

I think it’s been hours. The booze is making it hard to tell. No luck. Searched every level of the Grove. Got death-glared out of a few neighborhoods.

“You think… by some stroke of luck the Wardens got it recently? Too soon for the news to spread?”

“Can’t hurt to check.”

“To the jail, then.”

---

Hmm. No one looks out of pla- oh, Spirits.

“Tolaug. Ears up.”

“Wha-?”

It’s not quite like in the stories. For starters, “it” would appear to be a “she,” and…

“Wow. Not much of a giant.”

“We’re both bigger than her. Easy.” 

Who was freaking out about this thing, an asura? She’s huge by sylvari standards, but she’s only about the size of a tall human, or a tiny norn. Distinctly un-Mordrem white blossoms adorn the branches on her head. Seems… normal, at this angle, if not for the bark.

“That sword, though. I don’t like it.”

“Yeah,” Tolaug grumbles. “The accounts I heard got that part right.”

“The wardens seem to be on a shift change. Is she talking to that prisoner? Can we try this anyway?”

“I say do it.”

---

“But what about- Geanais! Watch out!”

What the -

I haven’t drawn my sword this quickly since… since the jungle. It catches the edge of a steel knife. I look up, into gray-black fur, feline amber eyes, and a confident sneer. I’ve never seen this charr before… 

---

“Why?”

The Mordrem’s eyes meet mine, and suddenly the stories and Hanne’s drawings make sense; her face is split down the middle, like an actor’s mask, and a third vermilion eye sits between her Pale-Tree-given pair. None of the three has a pupil. The effect is eerie.

I expected a murderer’s face, a twisted grimace, but all I see in her three eyes is fear.

“Why… are you trying to hurt me?”

Her voice still has that draconic rasp to it, a little. I notice that only one side of her mouth moves when she speaks, and only the eye on that side can blink. I wonder… 

---

I can’t stay in control for much longer. I don’t know why they want me dead. Please. Don’t make the dragon come out again… 

---

Tolaug is silent and stony-faced. That’s not the right move. I walk to his side, and give the sylvari - the prisoner called her Geanais - a good look.

“Oh, wow.”

“What?” grunts Tolaug. “Just dragon-spawn trash-”

“Tolaug!”

Geanais lunges at the oblivious charr with a cry of frustration. I take a step back, and he dodges just in time. 

“What are you waiting for? Bring her in!”

“She wasn’t trying to hurt you, but you called her all sorts of things and made her angry, you idiot!”

Geanais twitches and whimpers. Energy crackles at her balled fists and gleams through her eyes.

“Ugh. Alright,” pants Tolaug. He inches away, dagger still at the ready.

---

Everything feels hot. My vision’s gone red. I can’t keep it in…

---

I think I have to de-escalate this situation.

“It’s Geanais, right?” I ask her. “Gen-ash. Lovely name.”

She already looks tense and worn out, as if she’s been forcing herself not to fight us. Upon hearing her name, she seems to let her guard down, just enough to let us approach her.

“I’m Hanne. We heard… some things about you, but I guess it’s better to ask you first. Didn’t think it’d end up quite like this.”

“I - I don’t know what you’re…”

“Something about killing saplings -”

“I swear, it’s not true! I’ve had enemies here since I came home from Maguuma. I’m not what I look like. I’m myself again… mostly, but they don’t believe me. Please believe me…”

“Tolaug over here is clearly awful at reading emotional cues,” I explain. “Sorry for that. Now we just have to get this cleared up with-”

---

“What in the name of the Pale Mother is going on in here?”

Warden Delwyn. Thank goodness.

“I, uh…” The charr - Tolaug - is at a loss for words.

“Geanais? You look like you’ve had your… nonexistent leaves ruffled a bit. Is everything alright?”

“Wait, you know her?” Even the norn, Hanne, is surprised.

“Yeah,” I mutter. “I… I’ll be fine… just need to cool off.”

---

“She was one of us, once,” the warden continues. “The jungle changed her so much that she couldn’t rejoin our ranks. Not everyone likes that she’s come home after all the dragon did to her. They see her as a threat. It looks like that’s what’s brought you here.”

“Yup. I admit it, we lied to one of your folks earlier. Thought it’d get us a sure payout. I guess there wasn’t really a trophy hunt to be had after all.”

Goddammit, Tolaug’s yapping. I have to step in. “The charr’s said enough and then some. We’ll head off in the morning. Apologies for causing trouble.”

“For your sake and hers, please, don’t come back.”

---

“Whew! Never had that happen before. Quite the thrill, being banned from an entire city!”

“Serves us right. I suppose we should try not to judge a cryptid by its cover next time. Right, Tolaug?”

“You got it, Hanne.”

[thatonebirbnerd]

Geanais always had a strong will. Even Mordremoth couldn’t change that.

The cherry-blossomed Secondborn Warden didn’t hear its voice until it was too late. She only noticed herself growing, her bark thickening - and her splitting headache. 

Literally.

As she followed the call into the jungle, her mind fractured into two voices, tearing apart her head with it. One half resisted the dragon; the other fell under its sway. But this was a slow, agonizing process, and it wasn’t able to achieve much before Mordremoth was killed.

The bickering in her head made her snap entirely on multiple occasions, becoming a full-fledged Berserker with no regard for friend, foe, life, or limb. Even after the dragon’s death, and the end of its control over half her mind, she struggles to control her rage and regret.

Unlike her fellow liberated Mordrem, Morwenna, Geanais didn’t hesitate to return to the Grove to heal. Though still the target of frequent stares thanks to her third eye and split mouth, she’s used her second chance at life to mentor saplings, learning as much as they do every day.

[thatonebirbnerd]

My time to shine! Five Mordremvari below the cut.

As a misfit underling among the Mordrem Guard, Morwenna took the brunt of Mordremoth's torment. Disfigured by Diarmid and brutally molded into the dragon's scent-hound, she had no choice but to remain in the jungle after its death. She keened both for her master and all it had taken from her, as Maguuma's remaining magic made her canine transformation ever more literal. There is no Morwenna now; only a skeletal wolf that howls in her dragon-warped voice.

Bláithín was a Courtier then, and it's a Courtier now - but it was its Dream that warned it of what would happen in between. It was pinned to a wall by vines for days as Mordremoth's magic wrought havoc upon its body, before it blacked out and submitted to the dragon's control. But to Bláithín, the time it spent in the jungle was simply time spent gaining a bag of new tricks; the more monstrous looks suited its personality anyway. And makes for good spooks for the new recruits. [this character uses any pronouns]

Ah, Ynyr. Not much left of this one either; but there wasn't much to begin with, only a sapling who had once been too content with his existence. He'll never be sated now, for you can't exactly stop an acid-filled husk, kept alive and constantly growing by the jungle's latent magic.

Where Commander Eirwen succeeded, Hawys failed. Trapped in a blighting pod after falling to the target of their Wyld Hunt, they found themselves fused with their wyvern companion, leaving them winged, horned, half-feral, and generally much more reptilian. Their self-imposed penance has been to remain solitary in Maguuma, picking off what few hostiles remain. Which begs the question: what could tempt such a creature - especially one so racked by guilt - to leave?

You get one (1) happy ending. Geanais struggled against Mordremoth's pull, and this manifested physically as it tried - but didn't have anywhere near enough time - to split her head in two. Despite the lasting physical and psychological effects, Geanais returned to the Grove, and now uses her scars to teach a new generation of saplings to face their fears head-on.

I wanna see peoples Mordrem/Ex-Mordrem OCs

Please, I have brainworms and wanna read about them.

[thatonebirbnerd]

Learning Together

Word count: 845

Trigger warnings: Body horror, referenced mind control, flashbacks, Trahearne death reference

AO3 link

Having a go at fluffy, and kind of self-indulgent, hurt/comfort.

“Saplings, this is Secondborn Geanais. She looks different than most, but I promise you, she is a friend. Don’t be afraid.”

I tower over the saplings, as always. I must be two and a half feet taller than the biggest of them. I can tell they are scared. But they approach, cautiously, barely reaching my waist as they feel my bleached bark, leystone-crusted legs, and tough wrists.

---

I remember the pain. The crushing headache, the twisted growth, the agony of control.

It was as if my head - it was my head being torn apart. Its growth socket was expanding far beyond where it should, widening my skull. A seam of bark grew down the center, cutting off my speech until it split my tongue into two. I spent days hacking up sap as the seam spread down my neck. Two mouths, two voices, and only one was my own. 

---

I kneel down. It's the best I can do to not be threatening. The saplings gaze curiously at my three cherry-red eyes. 

One gray-barked, red-leafed young male tries to brush the groove dividing my mouth. "Now, now," I say through the right side, the side that stayed mine. He jumps back, startled. The left side sags now, only coming back to life when I lose control. The young sylvari excitedly whisper among themselves: "Oh - she speaks!"

Ah, wonderful. I have to cajole them off me. "Settle down, little ones. Let me tell you a story."

"Secondborn?" A female sapling pipes up as she looks me over with wide eyes. Her bark is brown and her hair is a mass of stubble, but the foliage on her body is gray, green, and red. "What did… this to you?"

"Have patience - though I admit I must learn that virtue myself. I will tell you in time."

---

I remember the bickering, the war between the forces in my head. I remember the rage, losing control of it all as my mind fought my body.

And I remember the day the eye opened, the day I knew I would never be the same.

---

“Thirty years ago, the Firstborn awakened. You may know some of them by now: Kahedins, Caithe, Niamh.”

“What about Trahearne?” Ah, yes - the girl again, who wanted to know what in Ventari’s name happened to me. 

“Just a moment!” I stand up. “As I was saying. They were all born with knowledge that they could not share. You probably have not heard of Wynne yet. She learned in her Dream that we are all the grandchildren of the Elder Dragon Mordremoth, and she died protecting this secret. She never told Trahearne. So he flew into Maguuma with the Pact, and the dragon took him the moment it could. And that was how a cycle ended; the Commander had to slay the very first Firstborn, in order to kill Mordremoth itself.”

“And what about you?”

“I… didn’t know it either. None of us knew until we all heard the call. Before all this happened, I was a stubborn old tree. Still am. The dragon knew it, and chose to tear my mind in two. I kept one side. It pulled the other.”

“So… you were a Mordrem?”

I pause, memories of the pain flashing before my eyes. “Yes. Well, most of me. I… I don’t want to-”

The saplings have gone abuzz again, bless their souls. “Could you think?” “How did you survive?” “So they really have that stone armor all over them?” 

Gods damn it. My breathing quickens, and I start to panic. If I weren’t a sylvari, I’d have a heart, and it would probably be racing right now.

And there’s that girl: “Was it trying to give you… two heads?”

That’s it. I see red, and I feel heat flickering through my body. My hands curl into fists, and the other side of my face jerks into motion, speaking in its distorted voice.

“ENOUGH!”

Ugh, thorns. I’ve surprised even myself. I step back, and try to calm down. The memories are coming back again. But at least the saplings are silent as I take a few long breaths.

The female sapling walks up to me as I sit down and let the pain fade. She puts her hand on my shoulder; she has to reach to do even that. Her voice is quieter now. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know I hurt you.”

“That’s alright. Saplings never know better until they learn it the hard way.” My voice has returned to normal, but softer this time. I let out an exhausted laugh, and she visibly relaxes.

She gestures to everyone else. The other saplings walk over, one by one, and they all cluster into a tiny little hug around big ol’ me. 

“Alright, young ones,” says the mentor behind me. “You’ve excelled at this lesson. I was hoping to teach you to respect those different from you, and I suppose you’ve learned to love them as well.”

And if they’re not afraid to be friends with a giant scary Mordrem, they won’t be afraid of anything.

[thatonebirbnerd]

Been working on new ideas for Geanais and, uh, I learned to use blur/smudge/sharpen today. This is a revised appearance for her (ft. more accurate bark and blossom color, and cherry eyes) that’s also been Mordremified with the power of Photoshop. In other words, HEAD MITOSIS

Looks cool but I don’t think I can take it in a story direction so might not go for it...

[thatonebirbnerd]

A small OC tidbit: Geanais chose not to take an evacuation chopper or airship home after Mordremoth’s death. Instead, she walked home on Pact routes through Maguuma. By my estimate this took a few months, and it allowed her to kind of get reacquainted with herself for a while.

[thatonebirbnerd]

So basically, what I’m saying is that Geanais would have ended up with two heads if Mordremoth had lived a lot longer, and one of them would be freaky and corrupted.

[thatonebirbnerd]

Finally hit something I like for Geanais. Gonna hit the makeover button and start taking/posting pics shortly.

[thatonebirbnerd]

I’ve spent the last couple days taking close-up (selfieish) pics of my characters using some screenshot tips I’ve picked up from here. 2/2

[thatonebirbnerd]

Well, only one of my roster (Eirwen) is a canon commander, but if Geanais found out what was going on across the... map... yeah, she'd do this.

Forget McDonald’s

Which of your commanders would refer to Joko as Jerk-o?

[thatonebirbnerd]

Round two. Hummingbirds for Cae and Geanais - Flame-throated Sunangel and Broad-tailed Hummingbird respectively.

[thatonebirbnerd]

Geanais is next on the redesign list. I love her character - she’s really just five-year-old me_irl - but visually I haven’t been able to take the cherry blossoms somewhere I like.

But I’m also about to head home for Thanksgiving, and I’ll only have my laptop, so no fancy screenshots unless I’m on my brother’s PC (and I’m not sure that still has GW2 installed).

[thatonebirbnerd]

It’s true, I’m gay for a plant.

A very stubborn plant who has a lot in common with four-year-old me, but a plant nonetheless.