#i refuse to believe that none of them got severe food poisoning on that island and that the food was actually good

[project-sekai-facts]

(read L->R, row by row) (slightly abridged) (open for better quality)

New York snowglobe

you probably got asked this before but when do you thing wxs will disband?

i actually don't think i've been asked this but i've written about it before on my main so this is like, a very abridged version of that I guess. Featuring post from my drafts:

WxS continuing after Rui and Tsukasa finish high school just doesn't seem likely to me, in the sense that prsk is generally pretty realistic with its plots and this seems like the most realistic outcome. Everyone in WxS would like to stay at the Wonder Stage, because of course no one wants to leave their friends behind and go on alone. Rui especially when you consider his background. But all of them except Emu have ambitions that lie beyond PXL. Emu wants to stay at the park and make people smile, continue her grandfather's legacy, while Tsukasa and Nene want to be professional theatre actors which is beyond a what a family theme park has to offer. If Nene's fragment SEKAI is anything, she wants to go to broadway. Rui's the only other one who really has the opportunity to stay without it getting in the way of his dreams. But event then, he has everything set up for him to leave - Asahi gave him the offer to work at ArcLand, and although he told Rui not to take it in the end, he said the offer still stands and he'll ask again when they're graduated.

Colopale please bring Asahi back I miss him a lot

In short, I think they might disband at 6th anniversary (assuming that's when the 3rd years graduate). They've got 3 irl years to work things out though, so we'll see how it goes. But considering how unlike the other units, all their dreams lie on different paths, I just don't see it working for them. Obviously they might have Rui and Tsukasa work at PXL part time while they're doing college and Emu & Nene are still in high school, but Tsukasa's already doing outside work, how long would they be able to keep wxs going for when scheduling conflicts start becoming a massive thing? I could see them continuing for gameplay purposes though, like they're still gonna be friends obviously and the story could just follow that part and all of them paving the way to their individual dreams.

Vaguely related, is that NYC in the snowglobe? Like to me that looks quite like the Empire State Building.

[hesloaded]

roleplay/fake. krp oc. n/sfw. tw: dark and mature themes. all profile information remains undisclosed unless plotted otherwise. faceclaim: ㅋㅏㅇㅣ written by rae.

code name: BULLET. birth name: 김 지 원 / kim jiwon. birthdate: 1994.12.21. birth place: seoul, south korea. korean age: 28. zodiac: sagittarius sun.

occupation: independent hitman, sniper. skillset: tactical shooting & combat (experienced with carbines, shot/handguns, sniper/rifles, machines under extreme circumstances. & hand-to-hand), boxing, krav maga, filipino stick/knife fighting. first aid.

weight: 76kg. height: 182cm. physique: fit. lean overall. languages: fluent korean, english. conversational japanese, mandarin, russian. religion: none. hails from a christian background. tattoos: example > arm sleeves, chest, back, and on his left hip to thigh. description of some pieces below;

nunc illas promite vires (now put forth that strength, in latin), in thick font, a vertical line on the left of his side, stops above the hipbone.

Buddha on the inner bicep of his left arm sleeve.

a gun on his right hip.

a large dagger on his left upper-wrist, the tip of it’s blade reaching for his middle finger.

‘i deeply belong to myself’, horizontally arcing down his left hipbone.

other mods: pierced ears, all basic holes and hooped silver rings. main earring holes are both gauged at 3mm, though he doesn’t wear them often anymore as he currently prefers earrings. sexual orientation: n/a.

Jiwon had been born with a well polished silver spoon in his mouth, which had remained wedged there until the day he’d personally witnessed his father’s murder. Their wealth had been abundant, but abundance did not always equal lawful, and Jiwon so happened to learn that the hard way. His father had been dabbling with the underworld for many years, and thus put him and his family’s life on the line since the very first contract he’d ever signed with the dons, the chiefs and the clans. After crossing certain boundaries of such dangerous people, as consequence, the father’s life had been taken away from him right in front of his only son, and the son had since been left in abandon while growing up with that gruesome memory, which never seemed to leave room for other nightmares in the night.

Quickly, the silver spoon grew rusted. Their family name had plummeted below the surface of the social class, and Jiwon had been forced into the other end of the spectrum without much time to grieve, or to adjust to his reality. They were suddenly dirt poor, as everything they once had was taken away from them upon the findings of his father’s illegal dwellings, and there was nothing they could say, or do about it. Jiwon, 15, and his younger sister, 7, getting by alongside their sickly mother on scraps and pity. Before they knew it, the hospital bills began to pile up in the drawers, court debt left behind by the father too much to handle, as well as basic expenses like food, education and rent.

At 17, Jiwon had voluntarily dropped out of school and decided he’d simply leave home, never to return again until he’d found a job that allowed him stable income. Enough cash to at least sustain his mother, and his younger sister. But there was also something else carried in the back of his mind, something poisonous that lead him astray along the way. He’d started with simple jobs in convenience stores, food delivery, the odd job here and there that could add at least an extra won for the month. But the greedier he got, the odder did the jobs as well. As if this was a sort of calling in his blood, he'd ended up at the edge of an industry where his late father had once been before. Maybe out of grief, and surely for revenge.

He knew he could never go back to the day after he had come across a certain individual he knows nothing of in present, who’d introduced him to a variety of "temp" jobs; mostly hands off at first, to prove he were trusty enough, before he’d graduated into the hands on part of the lifestyle where he’d learn how to fight, throw a knife, and shoot a gun. Professionally groomed by a veteran towards serious temporary positions and better money, by sparring until he were caked in bruises and blood, and shooting empty beer cans by the beach waves (trained in Jeju). And sooner than he'd thought, beer cans became human beings.

His initial aim was never to fall too deeply into dangerous affairs that had gotten his father killed in the first place, but there was something about it that was much too seductive to ignore, much too thrilling to escape- and so by the age of 19, Jiwon was engrossed. And he was really good.

He began working with the man who’d basically recruited him after seeing the talent and hunger for something dark in his eyes, and through him discovered some parts to the puzzle of what had lead his father to such a cruel fate some years ago. Then after reaching a certain point in his investigation and a number of paychecks (which he often sent home to his family rather than keeping all to himself), and with the (forced) help of a mysterious woman he’d met named Kim Yuna, Jiwon had disappeared. Gone to lay low (and train more/hone other skills) in Auckland, New Zealand, and had come back shortly after turning 22, to put his research and skillset into practice.

This is when he had come to surpass his father’s footsteps; solidified his place in the underworld, established as an independent hitman after finally reaching and murdering his father’s killer. Spilling the rage and thirst for blood that had slowly welled up inside him over the years. Known as Bullet, and despite his young age, wanted and feared simultaneously.

location: established in seoul, south korea; works worldwide. direct address: undisclosed. license: LvL 1, general korean license. drives a harley davidson motorcycle, his car a revamped vintage ford mustang. pets: none. takes care of stray cats in his neighborhood. relationship status: n/a. family: mother (alive), younger sister (alive), father (deceased). had severed ties with them and doesn’t talk about them.

hobbies: cooking. reading. sports (lifting, boxing). watching movies. gaming. optimist or pessimist?: neutral. introvert or extrovert?: introverted extrovert. "describe yourself": well-rounded. intelligent. versatile. worthy. surprising. creative. best-shot. "describe jiwon": precise. observant. intimidating. unpredictable. humorous. aggressive. cross. dreams/goals: learn how to properly wield a japanese sword, going drifting with his car in tokyo, sandboarding in the desert dunes, visiting the stray cats in italy.

— being an independent assassin would mean that his business exists sans any form of contract to whatever company or illegal organization at all. a lot of these do exist both in South Korea and overseas, but Jiwon is strict about steering very clear from all attempts of recruitment made his way. signing his life away with blood is something he never plans to do, unlike his father had.

— the underworld's presence also lingers within certain hotels, bars, offices and theatres; as well as underground establishments like boxing ranges and clubs of all natures. simply because people like him are everywhere, though only few of them could ever compete.

— his associates range broadly from Triad bosses to ballerinas, and everything else in between. police chiefs, escorts, seasoned veterans, boxers, racers, butchers, hotel managers. all associates of his, and the below surface's, of course.

— he values taking care of himself very highly, as it contributes to his work at times it matters. when he'd first gotten into working within the industry as a rookie, he could be often found doing small missions like escorting, as he'd been recognized to be visually appealing, and taught to wield it as though he were holding a sharp blade.

— he'd lived and trained in a secluded countryside farm in Jeju island for nearly four years, before packings his bags and disappearing to Auckland in the midst of night.

— owns too many pairs of sneakers, belts, button ups and turtlenecks. he's an expressive dresser; usually loves wearing pieces that stand out or glitter. his closets consist mainly of blacks, reds and whites, some greys, blues, purples, and plaid. when it comes to accessories, he will try it all but prefers simple rings and thick necklaces. finally, his cologne selection ranges broadly of fresh, pine and woody scents.

— surprisingly loves babies and kids. might or might not suffer from perpetual baby fever.

— believes in consequential punishment, global warming, ghosts or spirits, and aliens. the usual.

— not very keen on haircuts. enjoys dyeing his hair. sometimes find his many tattoos burdensome as he regularly has to cover up for the casual public (though he doesn’t try much anymore, really).

— he absolutely despises being lied to, have his skills doubted, being suspected, accused unjustly and seeing entitled pride in other people. it might sound obvious, but it’s all particular triggers for anger and hostility in him.

— can’t keep promises. a bit lackluster when it comes to romance. prefers relationships without titles, and sometimes emotions. but when he does fall, he falls hard enough to break bones.

— he wants to look into going to live in japan for a while in the future, to study kenjutsu, and acquiring a japanese katana of his own.

— he has a habit of getting new tattoos whenever he’s out of the country. or when he’s stressed—he refuses to destress with smoking.

— despite his job and the occasional requirement to travel overseas to rigorous tasks and obscure locations, or stay in Seoul apartments; living off scrap for months in both predicaments, he’s still a homebody. Appreciates when he can return home and sleep with a corn-chip in his mouth.

— his home is prepared for any kind of assault at any hour of the day, carrying hidden weapons hiding in plain sight.

— collects silencers/suppressors simply because he enjoys using them on his firearms.

[shy-magpie]

RQG 155

Wherein there are unexpected visitors. Live blog under the cut

Pre episode babbling:  there really wasn't any way quarantine was going to last as long as the dungeon crawl, and (for all I joked about it) I really am satisfied with what we got. That was a lot of backstory and character moments in a short amount of time. Now we have a kobold, a mysterious attack on the inn, and an episode title referencing dragons? Nice consolation for them almost certainly being forced out of the basement or having plot come to them. Please be Skraak? Please be Skraak either trying to rescue them or at least be here as an ally? Oh well time to hit play: Weird energy? That’s promising Inevitable locked in a Cel(l) joke Zolf needs to be nicer about the Kobolds Alex needs tell us if this is Skraak or not before Hamid gets the blame Skraak(?) Just unlocked the trap door Nice outfit Alex, is it our Skraak? It seems to be Zolf wants Skraak to join them in quarantine. Cel doesn't see why to bother when Skraak's been in contact with hundreds of Kobolds Skraak gestures for them to leave and Zolf is going to be force the issue. This will go over well. Beats his defense by 1 Hamid is trying to play peacemaker again. Really Zolf? Couldn't have calmly refused to leave and explained through the door? I know you are under stress but you are low charisma, not stupid. Love you Cel, Skraak has been speaking to varying degrees since "My Liege" Hamid tries to explain, Zolf speaks over him to say they didn't explain because they forgot. Hamid apologizes to Skraak. Skraak starts to leave. Azu backs Zolf in preventing him from leaving. Skraak is subdued by Zolf & Azu Skraak is locked in with Hamid? No Zolf has some limits thank goodness. He did call Skraak one of them.  Bound but not gagged as Hamid apologizes. Skraak points out that he just has to wait for the rest (of his team?) Skraak "monitor"ed them!?! Holy... I was merely comparing the situations, did he actually scry and see them held by a human in a small space underground beneath a trap door disguised by a table? If he thinks Wilde is their Shoin then how many pieces is he going to be in when Zolf gets out? Kobold lore please! Hierarchy is important and it was "considered a good idea to keep track of the saviors". Skraak is sarcastic in his tone when he uses the term and it sounds like at least Hamid & Azu object the instant they hear it, possibly others. Cel makes a pitch for quarantining the whole inn. Wilde is in the cupboard Zolf asks about the kobold numbers and makes some unnecessary remarks about the village & Jasper in particular being lost as he writes off Japan. Zolf is far too relatable for some who needs to stand the flame down before someone takes it personal. Deciding you've already doomed yourself along with everything you care about is a crappy way to avoid panic in the face of uncertainty. Cel tries to call him on it, he switches to "everyone else is infected and it will be our job to fight them". Scary thing is, while in the long term it would be a suicide mission, with their combined abilities they could make a serious dent in the numbers. Hope they are aware of the Hiroshima comparison if this is leading to calling for a air strike on Japan. They explain what little they know to Skraak who insists none of the Kobolds were sick but may not understand the symptoms. Possible kobold immunity? Gonna be annoyed if something Shoin did protected them. Skraak seems to be saying that no new people were exposed since his party of 7 followed the route of the party. Zolf wants to send them back under Skraak's guard to prevent any more coming for them. And they're back. Cel points out its better Skraak came since the kobolds didn't know to implement quarantine. They go upstairs. They form a phalanx and draw spear against the party when they don't see either Hamid or Skraak. Alex & Ben are doing the "these lines are already written we have but to speak them" routine while Bryn points out Alex doesn't get to sound like that when he's the one doing it. Very Hamid, if you know how this is going to play out and don't like it, just make another choice. Initiative and a lot of dice. Grapple rules. Not clear where Cel is/if they got grappled but it sounds like Zolf did and is throwing them off so he can check on the inn keeper. Hamid runs upstairs and every one of them kneels like Skraak did at their first meeting. Helen & Bryn both sound distressed. Should have cleaned up that unreadable little ficlet I made of Hamid going bad because he didn't know how to handle Kobold worship and accidentally took over Japan because he thought autonomy meant respecting their decision to look to him as their leader. The innkeeper is bound but fine. Zolf unties him and looks for Wilde. "Wilde is also bound and... Has a look best described as "the bleep? "" Zolf is a stress cooker and Barnes updates Hamid is flustered and embarrassed which buys him some small grace from Skraak who explains Hamid is "the biggest dragon here" Cel: Also you could introduce the concept of democracy. Eh skip em straight to anarcho communism if you ask me. Group decision meetings rather than just vote for the head dragon Hamid tries to side step a bit by suggesting they explain the situation and asks for their names. Hope Alex thought to name all seven before the cast does.  Siggif the kobold might be pushing it. "Hamid the polite tyrant"-Lydia Break Alex skips them to "a large dinner" cooked by Zolf who got a nat 20 on how good it is. Cel speaks draconic. Neither Zolf nor Azu can make out the difference in their names. Because Alex is like that: didn't want to come up with 7 names, did want to block anyone else naming them. Bryn however has all 6 names and is going to give Azu & Zolf their translations. They aren't interested in the rest of the party and "insist on maintaining a guard phalanx around Hamid at all times". Helen points out this is Bryn's fault. Yeah he's been playing with Alex long enough to know "King of the Kobolds" would come back to bite him. Hamid should be embarrassed. Hamid is sat at the head of the table by the Kobolds. Skraak: it'll pass eventually Zolf: good Aw Cel asks about traditional kobold food and Skraak has to struggle to remember. (Cel seems disappointed meal worm burgers would be poisonous to non kobolds) Zolf is a grumpy boy Long story short it seems to be a controlled risk: no contact off the island; no reason to believe the kobolds are infected Kobolds might be immune Oh screw Shoin (sent waves of Kobolds as dungeon monsters) Zolf doesn't think that the level of contact the Kobolds had with infected adventurers without being infected is proof since they don't know how the infection is passed or activated. Hamid says they shouldn't rely on it but its reason to hope. Zolf needs to remember that team moral is a thing and quit taking things from Hamid especially in a way that could piss off their new housemates. Thank you Azu! Hamid is not stupid! You can say there is reason for hope and still be careful Hamid calls him on jumping down his throat at the slightest provocation, reminds him they talked about this and that trying to stay positive is not a crime. God it's weird relating to both sides of this argument. My bias is towards Hamid as being right, but Zolf is so relatable. You have any idea how hard it can be not to snap at some of these kids they are setting themselves up for heart break when they talk about school in the fall or hug piles at cons? Thank you Cel Zolf is going to leave and sit on the coast behind the inn because he considers the quarantine broken not expanded. Backing out of an unproductive conversation, especially one were others have pointed out you are being harmful is valid, giving into "burn it all" moods is not. Hamid moves to stop him because he gets that the inn is now their cell Wilde calls him back and says he was building to them talking to the borb. So there is a reason he's the boss. Zolf declares he wants some time not thinking about this, which is what he should have done several paragraphs ago. Ffs this can not be the first time he's had it strike hot/destructive instead of cold/immobilizing; it sucks but you don't let yourself make any permanent decisions, stay away from the breakables and try not to talk to much, it passes. Cel suggests he go to one of the upstairs rooms instead, he accepts the redirect with ill grace but does accept it. Barnes has pointed out that locking everyone in a small box makes things worse not better before. Aw did Alex not like the fandom begging for the platonic version of the lock em in a closet until they sort out their feelings trope? Azu: I thought we could make friends Cel: he seems quite opposed to that Azu: I feel like he'd be a really good friend but not very friendly if you know what I mean Cel:we I know he hasn't been at all friendly Azu: you're friendly! Cel: well thank you, I do try Azu: I think you are my friend Cel: I am so honored! Thank you so much Azu! That's delightful Carter declares Cel the only friendly one because he is grumpy about Azu stepping on him, stopping him from breaking quarantine, and drank all the good stuff. Barnes suggests they start fresh in the morning. Skraak explains the kobolds are expecting Hamid to step into Shoin's role as tyrant just one they like. Skraak: even if they know you're not a tyrant, neither they nor me will be abandoning you because that's how Kobolds work. Good Hamid is taking this seriously Oh no pressure Skraak The most chill inn keeper in the world Skip to lunch time Zolf is still making himself scarce, which is not the worst way to handle it  dawning on you THAT YOU TRIED TO DESTROY A RELATIONSHIP YOU VALUE BECAUSE YOU WERE IN A MOOD Bryn makes the "he's secretly infected" joke. Bryn spotted the veins in discord avatar thing and Alex sounds so pleased Wilde is fine, stop asking Oh really we needed that insight in how Wilde thinks Brorb on the table Cel asks for a list of stuff to make into a Brorb access device. Between their bags of holding they have enough stuff for them to make do. Azu seeks out Zolf while Hamid & the Kobolds help Cel. No strike that she waits until someone needs to grab him for the Brorb interview. Alex! Ending on Azu finding Zolf staring out the window.

[littlegalerion]

A little Character background on Trechire, because I realize it’s probably confusing how I have an OC the daughter of an NPC who directly is against daedric worship, vampires, and lycans.

Trechire was born on the main Isle Summerset, but Vanus and Caafire decided they didn’t want to raise their daughter close to all the prejudice (Caafire suffered from a great deal of scrutiny from the masses on Summerset, to the point she was actually shunned by a one city entirely. I don’t think I need to explain Vanus’ status.) However, they wanted their daughter to at least know Summerset growing up. Say what you want about the altmer, but the islands are beautiful and magic feels as if it’s woven into the spring breeze. So they opted to raise her on Auridon. This went smoothly for a while, as the Mage’s Guild had a nice set up in Firsthold, and Vanus had begun to gain popularity after the more crippling and tense birth of the guild. Even Caafire was better received, though this was mainly due to the Fighter’s Guild taking an interest in her enchanted craftsmanship. Trechire stuck close to her parents until the age of eleven, which was when Vanus took the reins and brought her with him to the other young guilds. Caafire would sometimes bring her along to the Fighter’s Guild, but that obviously held more dangers for a young child than the Mage’s Guild. Not that Caafire was absent in her daughter’s life- the family always found time together, even if it was only once a week, in the more busy seasons.

But something else popped up when Trechire turned eleven- an anxiety disorder. Mental health is not entirely well received in Tamriel, as I’m sure most players have gleaned over the years. You’re either sane, quirky, or clearly possessed by Sheogorath. When Trechire began to experience panic attacks, to the point of freezing completely, trembling, and being unable to register anything but her fear, it didn’t go unnoticed among common society, no matter where they were. The nicer members of the Mage’s Guild tried to stop the rumors from spreading, but to no luck. As the attacks grew more common, Vanus turned towards trusted healers to try and cure his daughter.

An important thing to know about mental health- you can not cure it. You can only treat it, and learn to cope with it. It does not need to rule your life, but it is a part of you, and you must accept that and not try to keep “fixing” yourself.

Therapy wasn’t exactly a real thing yet, at least not to a professional degree. So the healers treated Trechire’s condition as something they needed to cure, which led to a lot of frustrating months of trial and error spells and potions. Then, for a while, Trechire’s attacks seemed to calm down. It was during this time that Aithilo Raamando, a very popular dunmeri wizard, suggested to Vanus and Caafire to enroll Trechire with the Wardens. He argued her temperament was perfect for the class, and that nature- animals, plant life, the stories woven into it- do a wonder for the nerves. They agreed, and at age thirteen, Trechire began to learn from the Wardens of Valenwood. Just to clarify, Vanus didn’t teach Trechire himself, and never planned to, because he didn’t want a teacher-student relationship to poison a father-daughter relationship. The Mage’s Guild was slowly filled with wonderful mentors, from which Trechire could have taken her pick and Vanus would have been just as proud.

At the age of twenty one, the Wardens released Trechire on “field practice”, and she returned to the Mage’s Guild ranks to explore and research with other students. But that didn’t last long.

Her panic attacks returned, and this time in a more intense fashion. Suddenly she had trouble eating, gagging at any of the food offered to her, which immediately would induce an attack. In our words, she would be called “emetophobic”. The attacks would last anywhere from thirty minutes to an hour, during which she wouldn’t want to be touched, save for someone holding her hand. She’d remain sitting, frozen and trembling, unable to hold a conversation but having to wait out the panic. In the more severe cases, she’d begin crying and repeating phrases like “I don’t want to get sick”. Of course healers were turned to once more, and a new fresh round of spells and potions were tested on her.

None worked, nor did any of the teachings of the Wardens soothe her. Trechire was slowly cautioned by her parents to cease any attempts at field work, at least until she had a better grip on herself. So Trechire was often stuck within guildhalls, healers coming to check in on her and run her through some tests, then measuring out some potions for her while she tried to study. Even that was becoming difficult, as her mind couldn’t settle long enough for a peaceful reading. She’d dropped significant weight in a matter of months, having hardly eaten day by day, mostly living on crackers or small slices of bread with cheese. It was all she could get down without freaking out entirely. It got to the point she felt as though she couldn’t function well enough to do anything, despite grabbing for anything that could distract her.

Vanus and Caafire grew more and more worried, understandably, and continued to seek help for her. Eventually, all they could do was comfort her and ask that she be patient, that they’d find someone or something that could heal her. But this carried on for a year, and Trechire just couldn’t take it any longer. People were starting to talk, starting to watch her like some sort of sad experiment. A few jokes got passed around- which Vanus and Caafire tried to kill but unsuccessfully- that Sheogorath would be coming for her, sooner or later. In her panicked and malnourished state, Trechire actually believed that.

She couldn’t take the threat of ending up the Mad God’s puppet, she couldn’t take the defeated and scared faces of her parents, she couldn’t take the memories of having been freely exploring Tamriel as a promising student- she wouldn’t live like this. She was left with two options: one which I will not write here, as she herself doesn’t like remembering she even considered it, and then the other which was to try to seek safety under another daedric prince. If a prince already claimed her soul, Sheogorath couldn’t have her. Maybe the prince could even find a use for her. At that point in her life, she just wanted to be something more than an un-contributing object in a room. Trechire began to secretly raid the guildhalls for texts on the daedra, and narrowed down which princes she thought she’d survive. One in particular caught her attention: Hircine.

As a Warden, she was drawn to his natural order of hunter and prey. The concept of becoming a hunter, of overcoming obstacles that keep you from your goals, of being in control of the animalistic nature bestowed on you- it hooked her right in. Lycans did suffer from thoughts clouded with blood lust and the hunt, but she’d heard stories of some that had learned to control it. What if the same practice could be put to use with her own disorder? It was a long shot, and maybe even in the end she’d be bitterly killed in the process, but it’s the only decision that, at the time, made sense to her withering mind. So she timidly asked if she could go to the guildhall in Reaper’s March, and waited until all was routine, then snuck out one night to find Hircine’s shrine.

Of course Trechire was blessed with a bite, after groveling at the shrine and begging for it. She was welcomed into the Hunting Grounds, and quickly forced to prove her worth among her pack-mates. At first, her condition fought against lycanthropy. Her head spun, clouded by panic and blood lust. But just as she had hoped, among the senior members of the packs, there were alphas whom had learned to cope. Once Trechire sought them out directly, they were happy to teach her- so few lycans ever bother, wanting the raw experience of a savage hunting hound. Every other night, Trechire would sneak out, and join her pack-mates in various locations around Reaper’s March. This continued for the next few years, which yes, was highly stressful. Vanus and Caafire are not easily fooled.

But they are easily distracted, and seeing their daughter suddenly come back to life was a fantastic distraction. The alphas’ teachings worked. Trechire’s attacks didn’t cease completely, but lessened to maybe ten minutes minimum, twenty or thirty max, in the worst cases. She learned how to fight against it, or talk herself through it, just as her teachers had with their blood lust. It was not an easy process, but unlike anything she’d tried before, this was actually coming up with lasting results. Trechire explained this away with one of the numerous potions that had been presented to her by other healers, lying that it was in fact her savior. She popped the potion on a daily basis to ease her parents. Eventually she was allowed her independence once more, and so her nightly outings were easier to manage. She became more involved with the packs, a sense of purpose coursing through her she hadn’t felt in all her life. Trechire began to enforce a strict honor system among her pack-mates, craving truly noble hunts, as well as proper care of their lycan conditions. Traditions like capturing the local wanderer, or tearing after children who played outside villages- what were they? Dogs? No, Trechire was a hunting hound, and as such refused to give chase to anything but REAL prey. Many pack-mates came to agree with her, and they formed their own group under Hircine which stalked the lands, hunting great bandit chiefs, dangerous in hiding criminals, and eventually corrupt politicians.

Trechire, at the age one hundred and twenty, was given the moon-washed white fur of alpha, and full command of packs across the Summerset Isles. At this time, she finally bid her parents farewell, assuring them she was beyond stable, and took up a position in the Lillandril guildhall. During the day, she saw to the matters of the guild, but at night, she ran the packs with both pride and purpose. 

That is the complete explanation as to why a Galerion child just happens to be a lycan. The events of ESO for her didn’t happen until she was around two hundred and fifty, by which a lot of other interesting secrets had crept into Trechire’s closet that her parents never knew about. I might write about them later, but they fall under Raveoov’s background as well.