#it was a charr night it seems :3

[adaarsvitaar]

I went to my first #vsartparty! I was too nervous to ask for handles so if this is you, feel free to tag yourself (:

From top to bottom: Io Rumenhide - Aella Cindersong - Myrra Sparkclaw

Been wanting to mess around with photoediting so thank you for letting me practice with your nifty charr!

[just-norn-things]

For Kara: 3, 8, 17 and 30 👀

Kara-posting?! You do spoil me.

3) Ask them to describe their love interest.

Generally, Kara enjoys tall, well-built men and short, curvy women, ideally at the same time. Her philosophy is, "You seem fun, so let's do this."

I headcanon Norn as being a very hedonistic, sex-positive race, so any opportunity for boasting and amusement is enthusiastically taken.

As for her specific love interest?

“You are the bane of my existence, and the object of all my desires”

8) Do complex puzzles intrigue or frustrate them?

Both. Definitely both. Kara isn't exactly a Taimi-level genius, but she's pretty smart and does enjoy an opportunity to figure something out...

...for about 15 minutes. Then it's getting hit with her axe and that had better fix the problem.

17) Do they like children?

Kara is generally ambivalent about children until she returns from the Domain of the Lost. She'll help 'em out like she'd help anyone, but she's young and busy and not really thinking about it, for the most part. That said, she is a sucker for Charr cubs and young animals. Is it cute and fluffy and likely to bite her hand off? If so, she adores it.

However, one of the many ways death messes with her body is a complete lack of menstrual cycle. Whilst most of her functions return through the latter part of POF, or at least improve, nothing happens in that regard. It leads to her being fairly certain children are off the table for her whether she likes it or not, and it's the lack of choice stirs up some feelings.

Of course, she knows the Commander's lifestyle is not suited to raising children anyway, and for most of the story, it's not something she even considers.

However, when she finds herself unexpectedly pregnant during What Lies Beneath, she is happy. Fearful for the child, and fearful for her mate's reaction when she returns to Hoelbrak, but happy nonetheless.

Needless to say, her mate is happy too, and from then on she makes spending time at home as much of a priority as being the Commander. She might have diplomatic duties, but she's not about to leave Braham to raise their kids alone. It might be the Norn way, but it's not her way.

30) What would they do if they knew it would be forgiven?

Without a doubt, Kara would tell Crecia what Rytlock said about her that night he drank five bottles of Elonian wine and passed out sucking on his own tail.

She might even tell her the bit about the tail.

[mistfallengw2]

18, 20, 27 and 29 for Aurelia?

oc asks that reveal more than you think

18. Kissing: tongue or no tongue?

I mean, she's a charr so the use of her tongue is a bit of a given when "kissing". [Headcanon time: the concept of "kiss" was not a thing for charr due to the lack of proper lips to "kiss" with, and was later sort of "imported" after more peaceful contacts with other races that have actual lips, yet never taken that seriously. The charr equivalent of kissing between mates is rubbing muzzles together and licking each other, so tongues meeting is not uncommon. That said, licks are exchanged during reciprocal grooming with anyone close enough, and bumping heads is a common affectionate or comforting gesture between warband members or friends. Overall, context matters.]

-

20. What do they like that nobody else does?

It has been thoroughly tested by Dragon's Watch that: 1. she will always accept to finish your food when you ask her, no matter what it is. 2. if asked, she will say she likes it, even when she makes the funniest faces while eating (certain unripe fruits are a guarantee for it). 3. any sort of strong spices will never bother her for long, not more than the things they've seen her sample.

When asked about it, she just shrugged it off as her experiences in the Mists having changed her perspective on food, not really elaborating any further.

[Basically, like any good Pact Commander, Aurelia can eat whatever and not die from it, with the boon of having magical self-regen on top of it.]

-

27. Forgiveness or vengeance (or…)?

It's... complicated, and one of the themes that filled her many restless nights after EoD.

Forgiveness isn't something taught to charr cubs, not outside of the necessary cases to keep soldiers from killing each other over nothing. The thirst for vengeance comes easy to her people, and it is as good of a weapon as a sword or a cannon when pointed in the right direction. Aurelia had eagerly accepted Glint's offer to take revenge on the Elder Dragon that had done so much irreparable damage before she fell into the portal, further pushed by the fear of what could have happened in her absence. It felt right, at the time, forgiveness was not an option.

The thing about vengeance, however, is that it's tiresome, if not all-consuming. It leaves so much destruction in its wake, and one mistake is enough to get caught in it. Aurelia never really recovered from the exhaustion following her experiences in the Mists, but there was no space for forgiveness with Zhaitan, nor with Mordremoth. It was a fight of self-defense against nature itself, but no Tyrian went into the fight without an inkling of thirst for vengeance, and it never took long for it to grow into hate. Aurelia felt that hate so many times, not just for each civilian or soldier she had seen fall, but also for her warband brother turned into a shambling creature, for the pain of those who looked up to her to find a solution, and for every single scratch parting her son' fur. Vengeance felt right once again, and she kept going, fueled by it, feeding into it. The irony wasn't completely lost on her, but she had no choice.

Then Aurene's egg, her hatching, seeing her grow... Aurelia doesn't know when exactly, but things shifted towards the hope she brought, towards a possible alternative to simple vengeance, because she was proof not all dragons were like that. Aurelia used to be Goredragon once, and she had changed her name not long after her son was born, albeit for different reasons. The Gore name had remained since then, but it had started to feel heavier than the dragonling that had become her daughter, so she changed her name again, this time for that reason as well. Burn it, they had to protect the twin elder dragons when they realized that the Pact's vengeance was, well, actually really bad for everyone.

But vengeance still was the only option that seemed available. Kralkatorrik's last moments had made Aurelia wish with all of herself for a way to forgive Aurene's grandfather and spare her the pain, but it had to be done, and something within her still wanted it. The Twins struggled against the cycle that chained and dragged them deeper into the same consuming madness, and Aurelia wished for anything but vengeance until the last moment, if anything, to spare their Champions. In their miraculous survival, one asked for forgiveness for his necessary recklessness and vengeance, the other lashed out and doubled down on the choices he decided were destiny. And in the end, Soo-Won never forgave herself, slowly consumed along with her children by the mindless vengeance of the nothingness she tried to stop. Vengeance was part of the cycle, forgiveness was just a wish in it, something to beg for after the fact at most, and it was all out of mortals' hands. They just... survived.

Aurelia mulled over that a lot, and yeah, for all the hate and hopes she had over the years, every action she had taken was ultimately for survival, her own and the world's, no matter how she thought of it. Now that the cycle is no more, she wants to believe that forgiveness will come easier, that it has to in times of peace. It sorta worked with the kryptis, right?

-

29. What recurring dreams do they have?

Aurelia doesn't exactly have recurring dreams or nightmares, but one thing that sometimes shows up often is the corruption she had encountered during her time in the Mists, when [redacted] and she barely escaped it. As for what it is, she can't describe it, her mind blocks it again the moment she wakes up, but it happens often enough for her to never forget it.

[mystery-salad]

2 and 3... for all the commanders hehe >:D

ALL OF THEM????? Hough *rolls up my sleeves*

2. Who among the canon "allies" does your commander most relate to?

- Laighe most relates to Caithe is many ways, from valiant to outcast who found a home away from the Dream.

- Matthias relates to Canach, though you will NEVER hear him admit that to anyone. Not even his partner.

- Ruan relates to Marjory, both canthan diaspora finding lives and purpose in their own ventures, wanting to reconnect with her heritage.

- Kai relates most to Canach, though the two got off on such a bad first foot they don't seek each other out to talk. It's a shame, but at least they've made peace.

- Hastigi relates to Rox. The two have had long conversations, figuring out where you fit...what a family away from home is for them both.

- Cora relates to Blish a lot now, the two spend time together away from the judgement of those who might go off of how they look instead of how they feel inside.

- Taomesin relates very little to any of them, but mostly they'd relate to Gorrik in a way. In over their heads, sure of themselves until things go wrong. Getting over some rough situations.

- Joel relates to Taimi, two rash delinquents of a sort with an issue with authority and needing to be heard.

- Vuisce doesn't know the canon team but if they did, they'd relate to Gorrik! Honestly they'd be two peas in a pod~

- Roibird connects deeply with Taimi, two tinkerers having a grand old time!

- Roi has only known everyone since EoD, but of that team she can have long conversations with Caithe...

- Cara doesn't relate to any of them, such a fucking bitch that they are. If you said it they'd kill you, but they'd relate well to Canach if they were nicer about it.

- Call relates to Braham! The two became such steadfast friends who can talk long into the night.

- Trella and Gorrik have lots to talk about, but even moreso she would connect with Blish.

- Mai Trin connects to Canach, for many obvious reasons lmao

- Quaille relates to Caithe. The sense of duty, of martyrdom and doing things yourself, reaching for help but not finding the kind you need most of the time.

- Marta relates to Braham on a deep level, they're both trying to put some things right.

- Riagain relates to Canach, two thorny besties inside and out.

- Leaf doesn't know the team well at all yet, and just crashed in as of SotO, but they'll grow to relate to Kasmeer quite a bit I think.

- Stixx is the most WIP commander I have right now...I think with time they'll end up actually relating most to Aurene.

3. Who among the canon "allies" does your commander dislike the most?

- Laighe does not like Rytlock. He is no longer an ally, Crecia has fully replaced him.

- Matthias also doesn't like rytlock, grudge for the whole releasing a god that killed him thing.

- Ruan isn't a fan of Joon, rubs them the wrong way...

- Kai hates pretty much all legion charr teammates, though she begrudgingly came around on Rox after some major pushing from the team. It helped that she eventually swapped from legion to olmakhan.

- Hastigi doesn't like Gorrik, too methodical and by the book.

- Cora isn't a fan of Rytlock, especially after her big physical change. The guy just doesn't seem very chill with differences.

- Taomesin does not really like anyone on the team much, they're a loner and prefer it that way now. Taimi is way too high energy for them though.

- Joel didn't even bring rytlock on the team once Rox was on, no authority figures.

- Vuisce again doesn't really know any of them, but if they did know the canon team they'd clash the most with Marjory. The two are both very stubborn on how things should be done.

- Roibird clashed with Kas and Jory a lot, they don't wish each other any ill will they just have a lot of differing views.

- Roi clashed with Joon a ton lmao

- Cara clashes with everyone but ESPECIALLY Caithe, the two are enemies to the core.

- Call does not like Gorrik much. She's nice to him, and goes along with things, but she doesn't casually hang out with him.

- Trella stays far from Caithe, and most sylvari. Hilariously, not for the reason you'd think! She's seen too many die and thinks they're too self sacrificing.

- Mai Trin and Kasmeer clash a lot after how much Marjory went through in the fight against Scarlet.

- Quaille does not like Taimi, little twerp who keeps trying to find loopholes around what needs to just be done.

- Marta would like to stay 50000000 feet away from Canach if possible, never really got over the harm he'd been doing in bloodtide coast. His heart was in the right place but his actions were wrong.

- Riagain would dropkick Rytlock if he shows his face again.

- Leaf doesn't know any of them well enough for strong judgements yet, but I think Gorrik is gonna come on really strong for them.

- Stixx I'm still developing but they and Kasmeer aren't gonna get along at all I don't think.

[wilsons-journey]

The dance with the red devil

This Story takes place a few days after the face reveal. Or several month after their first meeting. You can read about that, in this little comic here: >> Page 1 // Page 2 // Page 3 // Page 4 <<

I tried my best to translate this story part. So I hope it's fine to read ;v; Have fun ♥

It was already late in the evening, when Valefor found the little tavern in the outer area of the black citadel. It craved the charr for something to drink. A busy day laid behind him and his supplies at home were exhausted. In addition, the way home was longer than the little swing to the tavern. He was also hoping for some interesting stories or information. And if this evening doesn't hold any of that in store for him, he would at least have a quiet night with a nice glass to drink.

“What can I bring you?”, asked the owner of the Tavern, while pouring beer for another guest.

“Do you have Sake,... rice wine?”, asked Valefor. A rather unusual request, the white-haired charr was aware of it. The questioning look of the owner confirmed this. His usual customers order Beer or Whisky - but Sake? That was new.  But what would his tavern be, if it wasn't well stocked! Even if the bottle was visibly dusty, he had what his guest wanted.

“Hasn't been ordered for a long time. Can't promise it's still good.”, the Charr laughed and Val just shrugged with a little smile. “Well, only one way to find out.”, he hummed and flicked the man some silver. In exchange, he was given a glass of the old rice wine.  He sipped it carefully. Then he nodded pleased.

"You can leave the bottle here." A gold coin followed and the bottle was all his.

“Bold of you showing your face here,...”, it suddenly growled next to Valefor. A sturdy man sat down next to him. Val didn't have to look up, to know who this was. He already recognized it from the voice. Still, he was surprised to meet Kying here. He hadn't noticed him. Kying sat well hidden in the farthest corner of the tavern. Like usual after his work. But that Valefor showed up here, however, was new.

“Well, that's what I call a surprise”, replied Val unimpressed. He didn't even looked at Kying. Instead, he undeterred savored his sake. Kying on the other hand fell silent. His gaze laid piercingly on the Charr next to him. Almost punishing. Valefor noticed that. "Do you really want to spoil your evening?", with that, his gaze wandered to Kying. And there it was again. That disgusting, charming grin.

Kying immediately looked to the side and Valefor watched him with a raised eyebrow. Then he noticed the other's empty glass. Without asking, he grabbed it and poured a small sip of his sake, before pushing it back towards him. Kying eyed the white-haired skeptically.

"I'm off work too. You know. So relax.”, Valefor grumbled and downed a sip of the sake.

“Yeah sure,...”, huffed Kying. He was still examining the liquid in his glass. He couldn't make out what that supposed to be. Only one thing will help - he had to try it. And while Kying took a sip, Valefor lit a cigarette and watched the warrior's face twist. He didn’t seemed like a big fan of the wine. Kying immediately grabbed the bottle and took a look.

"Hmpf,...", A questionable guy with equally questionable taste.

“No taste, of course. How surprising.”, Valefor commented dry. Although Kying obviously didn't like it, he at least showed decency and drank it up.  The next drink was also on Valefor. A sign of good will. He didn't seeked trouble that night. At least not the usual one.

“Aren't you afraid that I arrest you. So in public?”, Kying didn't look at the other. His eyes were fixed straight ahead. So does Valefor. It seemed as if they were strangers and just happened to be sitting next to each other

"Go ahead.", challenged Valefor.  A disbelieving snort left Kying. There was a hint of amusement in it. Valefor remained unimpressed.

"No one would believe me anyway..." Kying mumbled softly and barely audibly into his glass. An embarrassed look went to the side, then back to his beer that Valefor had bought him.  "Why didn't you kill me back then?"

A question that came expected and yet unexpected. The red furred Charr let out a small laugh, as he flicked the ash from his cigarette into a close mug. "Unlike your comrades, you had balls."

 Kying immediately looked over to him in disbelief. That was supposed to be the reason? “What?! You knew you wouldn't get out of this fight alive, and yet you stood up!”, acknowledged Valefor. There was no scorn or mockery. It was genuine praise that nonetheless wrinkled Kying's forehead. He wasn’t sure if he can believe that.

"You're kidding me,... Very funny.” Kying growled cynically and downed a long gulp of his beer. Valefor did the same with his sake.

“Self-critical, too. Interesting.” Valefor remarked with amusement. He had been serious, whether Kying wanted to believe him or not. "But I'm glad you seem to be a stubborn donkey. The small skirmishes cheer up the rather monotonous everyday life.”, added Valefor.  He said exactly what Kying was thinking. But he never would admit it openly. Especially in front of him.

“Hmpf. Wow, how do I even deserve so much praise.”, replied Kying cynically and seemingly tensed. Nothing more than a facade. It was actually good to hear that from the other. "But it won't change the fact, that sooner or later I'll hold you accountable for the deaths of my comrades. Also for the other crimes.”, a warning that fell on deaf ears. It was only answered with a laugh.

“Oh I beg you! Otherwise it would be boring.". Valefor teasingly nudged the warrior's shoulder. He winced at the unexpected touch. Then he made an angry face. It was his very own thoughts that annoyed him. It was hard to believe that the other was a infamous assassin. In this moment he was so mellow and charming. Too charming. And no matter how hard Kying tried to hide it. Valefor took noticed of this and it amused him greatly.

“Is there a name for that lousy visage?”, Kying grumbled.

For a moment Valefor thought about it. Should he really tell him his name? It wouldn't make any difference. And yet,... he hesitated. Before he could make up his mind, turmoil drew his attention away. And with it followed a heavy sight of the old warrior. “Oh fuck me. Not this again.”

A little group of charr gathered in the center of the tavern. It’s not the first time that this happened. Kying already knew what is about to happen.  With another heavy sight he turned to Valefor. To his surprise he was gone. Right before the first Charr started to throw punches at each other.

With a closer look, he noticed the red furred charr near the exit.  Kying exchanged a quick look with his beer. There was still a good half in there. He couldn't let that go to waste! But he didn't want to let the other one get away either. So he tipped it back with a jerk and hurried out.

“Hey! Wait!”, Kying called after the Charr.

Valefor stopped for a moment and looked back at the warrior, before he started moving again and disappeared into an alley.

Kying immediately hurried and followed the other into the alley. Only to be pressed so rough against the wall, that he couldn't breathe for a moment.

“You can’t get enough of me, huh?”, Valefor hummed amused. His left hand was on Kying's neck, pinning him against the wall. While the right hand hold his arm behind his back, so he wouldn't get any stupid ideas.

“You didn't answer my question!”.  It was a weak reason why Kying had followed him. In fact, he didn't even know why he followed him in the first place. But he couldn't let the other go away.

Valefor raised his eyebrow in surprise. His grip loosened a little bit. “Oh? Only for a name?”. He snorted in amusement and shook his head. Then he came a little closer to Kying's face.

"Do you like me that much?" He murmured amusedly, without any ulterior motives.  These only came to him, when he felt Kying’s body tense under his grip. He liked it.

Kying couldn't resist. Not even against the slight blush around his nose.

"Sure you’d like that. Never would I,..." he protested - trying to put all the contempt he could muster into those words.  But it was already too late. Vafefor was fully aware of the situation. And he was willing to join in this little forbidden play. Because he, too, liked the idea very much.

"Not? Oh,... what a pity.”, he moved a little closer without releasing Kying from his grip. His eyes fixed on the other's. "But I could have sworn you liked that,..." he whispered softly,... challenging. He tightened his grip again.

Kying clenched his jaw. It was nothing more than mockery. He couldn’t give in. So he started fighting back. But it was hopeless. He stood no chance…

To his surprise, the other suddenly let go of him. The wide smile on his lips didn't bode well. “You are full of surprises. Interesting abysses are opening up here.”, Valefor grin grew even wider.

"Says the right one,... bastard,...". Kying growled angrily. He wasn’t able to interpret the other's words correctly. Everything seemed like a big prank to him.

“Hmm, and I thought you were smarter. Was it already that much alcohol?". Again Val stepped a little closer. Kying backed up, but there was no room to go. There was only one way - forward. So he grabbed Valefor by the collar, which Kying surprisingly managed to do. Now Valefor found himself cornered. However, voluntarily.

“You're almost there. Only one small step~”, Valefor invited him with a smirk. Kying only frowned. He still didn't seem to understand.

"Do I have to do everything on my own?". Valefor huffed annoyed and pulled Kying closer. Their bodies touching on areas that shouldn't be that close.

It wasn’t mockery. Kying finally seemed to understand. Valefor was serious.

Only one step was missing. But it was a step on a path, that Kying would surely regret someday. Getting involved with Valefor like that, was definitely playing with fire. But the temptation was way too overwhelming. He couldn't resist taking that disgustingly wide grin with his own lips. And soon to ask for more. Later was enough time to despise himself for it.

It was a dangerous yet highly exciting game. For Kying, but also for Valefor. A turn neither of them had planned nor expected. And yet it should round off their little game in the future. 

For Kying it became a dangerous addiction. But he hadn't felt this alive in a long time.

[the-mystic-dragon]

OC Interview: Vraeen

Draw (or use an old drawing, don't worry!) or take a screen of your character in an interview setting and make them answer the following questions!

I was tagged by @long-journey, who is the rightful creator of this original post :) Thank you!!

INTRODUCTION:

1. Can you introduce yourself?: "Hello, I'm Vraeen. Most civilians know me as the Commander, the Champion of Aurene." She gave a small smile.

2. What is your gender identity, orientation and relationship status? "Well, gender identity has always been a fluid and fickle thing with sylvari race. However, I identity as a female." She pauses for a moment, tilting her head to the side in thought. "O-Orientation? Do you mean who I like?" She whispered to the interviewer, light laughter in her quizzical tone. "I believe the term is bisexual regarding myself on that matter. I'm single as well."

3. Where and when were you born?: "I was born- well sylvari aren't born in the natural sequence other races are. We are created by the Pale Tree, we come out of pods-" She stopped herself for a moment, waving her hand briefly to dismiss the tangent. "I awoke at night towards the end of the summer. I remember waking up right outside of the Grove, everything was glowing in Caledon. It was beautiful."

4. What is your weapon of choice and fighting style?: "I prefer my axe and dagger, one of the weapons I had found when I was able to control my new soulbeast capabilities in the Crystal Desert. I keep my short bow on me as well, when I need to create some distance between a foe and myself. My style would entail a quick and powerful take down for enemies, not before they are hit with traps and the nature below turning against them."

5. Lastly, are you happy?: She gave the interviewer an icy gaze for a few minutes. "Hm, you don't seem to have any hesitance with personal questions do you? I suppose I am, Tyria is still surviving."

FAMILY AND FRIENDS:

1. What's your family like? What is your relationship with them?: "Some sylvari say our race are brothers and sisters to one another, family members that span across generations and generations. I.. don't think I have any close brothers or sisters of my kind. Not in my generation, at least."

"Caithe I would consider an older sister, a mentor who has guided me through challenges in my sapling days. Our relationship was.. nice at first, we hit a rough part during the Maguuma campaign. It wasn't good. After some time passed, we were able to mend it. I'm glad I have her in my life, she's important to me."

2. Have you ever ran away from home?: "Ran away wouldn't be the terms I would use to describe my path. I was drawn away, a feeling gripped me like a tether pulling me to where I needed to be."

3. Would you consider marriage or having children?: "No, my responsibilities wouldn't let me be able to manage those things." She sighed. "I have not had any interest in marriage or children though."

4. Do you secretly hate one of your friends?: "In the past, I will admit I harbored deep resentment for Caithe for an action she did. I was blinded by anger, stress, and confusion while dealing with chaos in the thick jungle. I made sure she knew." She shook her head, casting her gaze down to the ground for a moment. "Those feelings only occured for a while however, I do not hate any friends I have."

5. Which friend knows everything about you?: "Caithe, Canach, and Aurene."

ASKED BY FANS:

1. Are you literate? Have you been to school?: "There are mentors in the Grove to teach saplings about valuable lessons in life. I... never went to those classes though." She paused, a light chuckle erupting from her lips. "I have not been to what other races consider traditional schooling I suppose, I have learned all I can from my experiences in the world and my time in the Priory."

2. The eeriest prediction you made that later came true?: "Predictions? I cannot recall any I have made."

3. What is something you were embarrassingly late to realize?: "You are asking a sylvari? I'd have quite a collection of occurrences! We would be here for awhile. Let's just say, when I was younger it was appreciated to have a helpful ally in the Priory answer numerous questions I had."

4. Do you have mental health or physical issues?: "Is that information you must know?"

5. What is your current main goal?: "Learn all I can about the Elder Dragon magic we are dealing with. Keep Tyria safe."

CHOICES:

1. Drink or food?: "Can I say both? There are so many flavors I have yet to try."

2. Cats or dogs?: She rested her hand over her chest, leaning back in her chair with her mouth agape in surprise. "I am a ranger, I love all animals equally."

While she shifted back to a comfortable position in her seat, she mumbled under her breath. "Cats."

3. Early bird or night owl?: "I am a Nightbloom, I prefer the night."

4. Optimist or pessimist?: "I am a optimist."

5. Sassy or sarcastic?: "Oh goodness, Canach has been a great teacher in these personal qualities. I'd like to say I am a bit of both, lots of banter and jokes between us. It never ends."

HAVE YOU EVER:

1. Been caught sneaking out: "In my early days in the Priory, Magister Sieran and I would sneak out of the fortress to explore and find new ruins or artifacts." She reminisced with a small smile, her eyes glossing over. "Gixx looked like he was about to- how do you say- blow a gasket, when he saw us creeping back in."

She leaned over to the interviewer, a hand over the side of her face to shield her mouth. "He may not show it, but he truly cares for every member of the Priory. It's just behind his no nonsense exterior." She whispered in a low tone, a small smirk on her face.

2. Broke a bone: "In my line of work, I have broken a few unfortunately."

3. Received flowers: "Yes I have! I have had quite a handful sent to or given to me by thankful citizens. It is such a kind gesture."

4. Ghosted someone: "Ghosted? What does that mean?"

Vraeen stepped off to the side; a hushed, short conversation was heard for a few minutes before she returned to her seat.

"I have done that to an assistant- er, bodyguard-" She was cut off by banging and people squabbling in the background. A deep, cool voice interjected up in a sharp shout. "HEY-- WAIT- VRAEEN-"

"Excuse me, I was speaking," she spoke up again, glaring towards the area of commotion in the background. "A charr associate that aids Dragons Watch, Valdoru Bladerend; who has graciously made her presence known off on the sidelines, did not get off to a great start with me when we first met in the Far Shiverspeaks. I tried to disappear off her radar a few times, but Ash Legion charr... they are hard to shake. They have skilled talents in stealth."

5. Pretended to laugh at a joke you didn't get: "Oh, many times. It took a little bit of time before I learned the meaning behind certain jokes, I was still gaining knowledge about aspects of life. Conversations included."

I tag (with no obligation of course!):

@cousinslavellan

@commander-wame

@commander-triangle

@commanders-sole-braincell

@astralarias

@commander-pleur

@kerra-and-company

[akurathereaper]

30 questions: GW2 edition

Seems I was tagged by ye boi myta, and this is one of the asks that actually seem a bit fun (?) i thought I’d do them? I usually don’t do these cuz they’re just... well here we go

Favorite living world season? For as much as I hated replaying it (cuz achievs), it has to be Season 2. The build up to Mordy was very cool imho (but I might be very much blinded by nostalgia lol)  Second to it would be definitely season 4, that shit picked up real fast

Favorite expansion? Not surprising, Heart of Thorns. Not sure WHAT it did to me (looking at you, Hearts and Minds), but it made me feel and those to whom I ranted know that me feeling stuff is rare. I first played through PS, then Season 2, and then got to Heart of Thorns, and the build up to it (shame I couldnt play S1) just stuck to me. Not sure if it’s me playing this game for too long that the spark faded out for me, or if PoF is just... not that shiny, you get me?

Favorite soundtrack? Basically the entire HoT soundtrack. And Fear not this night (+reprise). That shit makes me cry.

First profession you played? Thief :>

First race you played? Charr, actually. I thought they were going to be the nature themed race (dont ask me how I didnt see the literal plant people), and was very much wrong haha. 

Favorite Destiny’s Edge character? Snaff, actually. I read the book and I loved him, even though he wasn’t there for long. Next up would be Rytlock, probably.

Favorite Dragon’s Watch character? Uhhhhhhh have you SEEN Canach? It’s obvious. It’s me boi Canach. I consider his ass a full fledged member of DW.

Favorite Elder Dragon? Ahhh, hard to choose, but I very enjoyed Mordy (until I saw him in the last fight lol I had hoped he would LITERALLY be the entire jungle, that his mental embodiment wasn’t a 50y o dad)

Best boss fight (story)? Mordremoth, first that came to mind.

Best boss fight (fractal)? Uhhhhhh hard to say, I’d say... the tentacle thingo in Solid Ocean. I enjoy chucking rocks at it.

Best boss fight (raid)? I’ve only ever killed the VG, so Imma say VG.

PvE or PvP or RP? Can I say WvW? haha no kidding. PvE is first, then WvW (Cuz I enjoy mindless killing), pvp is boring, and I am unable to stay in character for RP, so I don’t do it.

Favorite canon couple? Uh... Joko and his Choya concubine.

Favorite fanon/self made couple? Trammander is best boi. Also Catlock is very very fun (Canach and Rytlock)

Favorite quote? “WE’RE GOING TO SHISH KEBAB A DRAGON!”

Most emotional cinematic? Ending of HoT. I cry everytime I catch a glimpse of it, just because he looks like he’s in so much pain before everything goes white.

Favorite VA? Brandon Bales (Male sylvari VA), he just grew so much with the role! Although I didn’t enjoy how aggressive we seemed in PoF, I kinda understood that we were in a hot af area, plucked out of our element and chasing a fucknugget that was ruining our day lol

Post a fun screenshot!

Post a landscape screenshot!

Most used mount(s)? Skyscale, griffon, beetleboi. In that succession XD

Favorite mount skin (for every mount you have)? I loooove the bioluminescent ones!

Favorite weapon? Nevermore :3

Favorite gear set? Warbeast (It has a tiddy window)

Favorite title? I don’t rly have one? I choose them depending on the char I play. But the longest one I used is Loyal

Something you worked really hard to get? Twilight :D It was my first legendary and I slaved off for almost a year xD

Favorite GW2 Youtuber / GW2 related video? I don’t really watch gw2 youtube scene :< Last person I watched was my friend... Game slobs (but he hasnt uploaded for 2 years so uwu)

Most used miniature? Trahearne :>

Most used novelty? The Embiggening tonic heheheheheh

Number of achievments points? According to gw2efficiency... 11,218 :>

Something you’d love to see in GW2? Dyable weapons!! (And Kirin mount (thank u cantha)

aaaand that’s it I uh... don’t have many people to tag who probably weren’t tagged already so uhhhhh @just-eyris-things​ Im tagging yo ass again? :DDD

[ashalsdream]

Luna and Ashal’s plan to falling in love

Ship: Tomomi (My Commander) x Canach Tags: confessions, mostly fluff AO3 Link - https://archiveofourown.org/works/22682437 

part of @tyrias-library‘s valentine’s prompts, I’m a day late though, oops! 

A common misconception with the sylvari race is that they don’t get married, at least not how humans do. Sylvari are interesting in their means of marriage while they don’t wear rings or any type of jewelry – they do give each other gifts, something meaningful for their lover. And while most humans or other races can remarry – the way sylvari work is that once you meet your lover, you’re with them for life. They’re your soulmate, the one person who completes you. However, as sweet as that sounds. It means that if they die prematurely, the sylvari cannot find a new lover – their deceased lover was the one person for them, so they then spend their time alone afterward. It was a blessing and a curse. To know that one person would love you for eternity but if you lost them, that was it.

Tomomi for all that he was, was a nobody. He was just another of the countless sylvari being born every day. The only thing special about him was his two sisters – they had been born from the same pod, twins. That and Luna was the commander, a leader. People looked up to her, but they had no idea who Tomomi was. Sometimes Tomomi would join his sisters on little adventures but most days he stayed in the Grove to help either train some of the newer saplings or to help with healing. While others would die to be in his shoes – the brother of the commander, he didn’t actually mind his life. It was quiet and it gave him time to think and to pause.

Luna hadn’t been the same since returning from the jungle. Tomomi could tell. Ashal wasn’t any better but if anything, she seemed more concerned for her twin than her own feelings. Something had happened out there, but Tomomi was waiting for them to come to him instead of forcing them to tell him.

The twins ended up staying in the Grove for a while, they had brought back a few different people of different races – some of the saplings found themselves curious over the charrs they had brought into their home, while the others were interested in the humans. Tomomi was extremely busy with making sure that those in the infirmary were actually getting better.

Luna was meeting with the rest of her little guild that had been with her in the jungle, so it meant that their house was quiet today. It gave Tomomi time to clean up at least – he adored his sisters, but they were messy when they were home. Yet he still wouldn’t change them for the world – they had taken him in when no one else would.

However, he had not been expecting to turn around and basically come face to face with one of the second-born – Tomomi had only met one second born before, his Vigil mentor – Laranthir. So, to be faced with Canach was a shock. He had practically jumped out of his skin.

“Is the Commander here?” Canach spoke and at first, it hadn’t even registered in Tomomi’s head that he was speaking let alone talking to him , he looked around as if Canach had been talking to someone behind him and felt his face flush in embarrassment when the second born looked at him with a face that most definitely said ‘I don’t have all day, spit it out’

His tongue felt heavy in his mouth as he scrambled after the words he was looking for, “Ah- No. Not right now, she... um she should be back later”

“Hm.” Canach hummed in reply, looking around the house behind Tomomi before meeting the purple sylvari’s eyes again, “I’ll be back later then, isn’t that so?” he teased, his lips pulling up into a smirk at the other sylvari’s embarrassed expression. “It was nice to meet you” with a light bow Canach turned on his heels leaving a stunned and speechless Elementalist standing there as if his legs had suddenly ceased to work.

The next time Tomomi sees the second born is when he’s sitting with his sisters – they’re spending some time together before Luna and Ashal head off again, the twins are chatting away but Tomomi had tuned it all out a few minutes ago – his gaze trailing off to where Canach was stood talking to a charr that had returned with Luna from the jungle. Both the twins had noticed Tomomi’s distracted gaze a while ago and didn’t comment on it, instead, they seemed to be forming a plan. Luna giving Ashal a knowing look, a forbidden smile between them. They were going to get Canach and their brother together.

Now, being sneaky certainly wasn’t Ashal’s forte, she was used to being the distraction for her sister while Luna sniped – that was for fighting but this was a more delicate situation, Tomomi wasn’t exactly scared of emotions but he wasn’t good at expressing them either. For the past 2 weeks, he had danced around the idea of going over to Canach and talking to the second-born again but had never actually proceeded to do it.

And that’s how Ashal ended up here, trying to get the said second-born’s attention from across the room. Canach had eventually seen her waving her arms wildly and looked well rather confused. He walked away from the other sylvari he had been talking to and made his way over to the ranger. “Can I help you?” he spoke fluidly and with slight annoyance as if Ashal had disrupted his entire day.

“Yes! Could you meet me at this location tomorrow night?” she handed him a map with a specific location marked in a bold red as if daring him to go there. She smiled sweetly at Canach – without even introducing herself but before he could speak again, she had shoved the map into his hands and disappeared further into the grove, her snowy owl trailing behind her to catch up.

Whoever he was going to be meeting here – if he went – wasn’t going to be the pastel girl who just disappeared in front of his very eyes, he had seen her around with her wife – Trahearne had said they had been married for longer than he could remember, something about a ceremony in Lion’s arch. So, whoever this was, it wasn’t her. That certainly peeked his interests at least.

Tomomi had been dragged away from his work late at night by his two sisters. Insisting that he came with them, the entire way he was complaining trying to figure out where they were taking him. When they had arrived at a specific tree, he remembered the familiar way that the sky looked like it was a mix of the mists and the palace of the gods mixed together. The stars looked like they had fallen and decorated the grass below them in a mixture of galaxies and starlight.

It was a place that meant a lot to Tomomi. A safe space.

Ashal looked around and shook her head towards Luna. The two twins were quiet, but Tomomi walked forward, looking around the area – it had been decorated with fireflies and some of the jewels from Tomomi’s work, “So that’s where they went” he commented touching one of the amethysts on one of the tree branches.

The only problem was that Canach should have been here by now if he had actually decided to come and that didn’t sit well with either of the twins that he wasn’t here.

The 3 of them had sat in the night sky for the next hour, enjoying some much-needed sibling time but after a while, the twins knew that they would need to head back out by the morning and needed rest. Luna moved to join Tomomi at the top of the hill where the Elementalist was looking over across the view. She gently placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning in to whisper to him. Ashal had a sad look on her face when Luna came walking back over. It’s not like they had hoped to get the two together but at least Canach could’ve shown his face. If not for Tomomi than for Luna or Ashal.

Tomomi nodded gently at Luna’s words; his previous relaxed expression was now one that had a crestfallen look in his eyes. “You two go ahead, I’m going to stay for a short while” He spoke softly, watching as Luna walked back to her twin, the two nodded to him before heading back to the Grove together.

The Elementalist sighed and sat down, his feet dangling over the edge of the high cliff. It was a peaceful area at least, rather beautiful as well. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath against the cool air.

He heard more than saw the crunch of the twigs behind him, he opened his eyes but didn’t turn his head, expecting it to be either Ashal being a concerned mother hen or Mender Keara checking up on him as always, however, he hadn’t been expecting the definitely masculine voice from beside him.

“Is this seat taken?” the second born looked down from where he was stood beside where Tomomi was sat. The purple sylvari looked up at him in pure shock.

“You… came?” he blinked in confusion before shaking his head and nodded, gesturing to the seat beside him, “Please” he spoke softly. A slight hopefulness settling in his heart as Canach lowered himself to sit next to the other.

“I wasn’t going to.” He didn’t meet Tomomi’s eyes, nor did he even seem to face him, he simply starred ahead towards the stars. “But then I saw you yesterday. Near the water, you were talking to someone – I assume your sister or a friend, and I saw you smile… And well. I thought that I’d like to see that smile directed at me someday” Tomomi felt the gentle pull of a content smile against his lips, he scooted over and placed his hand against Canach’s, where it rested against his thigh.

“I think I’d like that” Tomomi replied, smiling when Canach looked at him. Perhaps Ashal and Luna hadn’t gone about getting the two to meet in the right way, but they had certainly succeeded in something. And it felt like a beginning.

“Meet me where the stars meet the ground, tomorrow night?”

[the-three-idiots]

To The Moon #3

A year...its been a year since he woke up…

I plan to celebrate this, whether he likes it or not.

He still visits me every night, no matter where he has gone. He once traveled from Frostgorge sound to the grove just to join me, i don't mind though, he has difficulty making new friends, he says his ‘lack of knowledge’ makes him feel...stupid.

Though he isnt stupid to me, just different and tonight's the night we celebrate his birthday or whatever counts for a living plant. I spent quite a bit of effort sewing a new dress for myself and a jacket for him. Glad my hands still work well at this point.

He hates it when I treat him nice, though getting mad isn't really my strong suit either, come to think of it either is my memory, though that's been slipping for a while anyway. I’m sure im forgetting something.

The Bakery!

A blue birthday cake, he likes blue, not sure why. Says he had always liked the colour before he even knew what it was, its confusing but he says it's just a sylvari thing. I asked lots about the sylvari, even asked some things that made him blush.

Something I didn't think plants could do but it's cute, especially on him. He likes to play big guy but he's a softy on the inside, he just has trouble speaking his mind.

“Morning Miss Adair!” said Mrs Faithslayer, the nice charr woman who runs the bakery.

The bakery? I just only left my house, I don't recall the journey…

“Got your cake ready, though I must say, a cake for a sylvari? Sure plant food won't do him better?” said Mrs Faithslayer, i knew she was joking, she always smiles after a joke.

“Thanks Mrs Faithslayer, he’ll appreciate this very much.” I said carefully, placing the cake in my satchel. Luckily it was wrapped well, no blue frosting in my bag...again.

Mrs Faithslayer looked outside before reaching into her apron and grabbing a red bow, she came around from behind the counter and placed it carefully into my hair.

“I remember when you and your brother used to go up that hillside when you were kids, now look at you, a beautiful young woman” She said, Tears of sadness began showing in her eyes. We both knew why. I walked up to her and hugged her.

“I'll be fine, i still have a few years right?” i said as reassuring as possible, Mrs Faithslayer smiled and we both stepped back from each other. It was getting dark, so I waved goodbye to Mrs Faithslayer and ran out from the bakery.

Got to get to the hillside before-

“Woah what's the rush Luna?” 

I stopped suddenly, I was at the hillside, Xela in front of me. He is looking at me pretty weird. It's improvising time, so I jumped on him and hugged him. He resisted for a second or two before I let go of him. “Luna, what's with all the excitement and running tonight?” he asked, looking very concerned.

I tried to let him figure it out.

“New dress?” He asked, very cautiously.

I crossed my arms, i mean i love how he noticed my dress but that's not what I was looking for. He needed a little nudge.

“Happy birthday” i said, pulling the cake out from the satchel, its a good thing it was wrapped well. Xela took the cake and unwrapped it. He smiled as he put the cake down and hugged me, it was a nice hug.

Though it was slightly weird as he hates hugs.

My coughing broke up the hug however, though it quickly stopped and we both sat down.I gave him the jacket I made for him, he loved it.  

“Thanks Luna” he said with genuine happiness.

We sat down for what may seem like an eternity staring at the moon, she was especially beautiful tonight,Xela turned to me.

“Almost everyday for the last year, we have come up here to stare at the moon, why do you like it so much?” He asked with a smile on his face.

“It's the only thing I will never be able to forget.” I said with great pain. 

Luckily he doesn't know what i mean.

I couldn't stop myself from crying a little but when I did, Xela jumped up and offered me his hand, he pulled me up and got me close to him. He put one of his hands on my waist and I placed a hand on his shoulder. Then our free hands met and we started dancing, slowly.

He looked at me with a smile.

“Why are we dancing?” I asked fairly.

“Stopped you from crying didn't it?” 

I laughed and i dont know why...

I smiled as we continued dancing, the problems we both had seemed to disappear as the moon's light beamed down on us. I wish i could tell him

A year ago I wished to be alone forever.

Now i know him...i wish we could be friends forever...

                                               If only i had that time...

[anghraine]

pro patria, chapters 8-14

And more Chaucer meme-GW2 fic (though with fewer footnotes)

title: pro patria (8-14/?) stuff that happens: Althea questions the guests at Minister Wi's party and faces the consequences. verse: Ascalonian grudgefic characters/relationships: Althea Fairchild, Lord Faren, Countess Anise, Logan Thackeray; Julius Zamon, Madeline Zamon, Reth, others; Althea & Faren, Althea & Anise, Althea & Logan chapters: 1-7

-

EIGHT 1 Minister Wi greeted me with nothing short of delight. “Your name has been on everyone’s lips lately! Your presence honours me.” I doubted that my name had been on anyone’s lips; maybe the hero of Shaemoor, though. “Fights have a way of finding me,” I admitted. “Ah, if this city had a few more brave souls like you,” he told me, beaming, “the Charr would withdraw from Ascalon.” Oh, if only. 2 The minister’s wife fawned over me, which was far less pleasant than it sounded. She bombarded me with questions and compliments while the clock ticked on, and never said anything about Zamon. “I shall speak with my husband about securing you a position!” “Thank you, my lady, but please don’t bother on my account,” I said, and fled to the banquet tables. It was difficult to speak to the servants without drawing attention, but I managed it; most of them resolutely had nothing to say, just directing me to the cook, but one girl whispered that Lord Faren was (still) pining after Baroness Jasmina, while the baroness only seemed interested in—me! I suppressed a flicker of interest. I’d always liked Jasmina, and she was very pretty, but some things mattered more. 3 Faren, as if summoned by the thought, then strolled in from the east courtyard. When he caught sight of me, he grinned widely and waved, transparent as ever. I couldn’t help laughing and waving back; he might be a fool, but he was a loyal, good-natured one, and I had no intention of giving up a lifetime of friendship for a casual acquaintance’s infatuation. I headed across the room, still smiling, and found him healthy and immaculate. “There’s my heroic friend—say, could you hold off on the acts of valour for a bit?” he said, and promptly followed it with a tight embrace that lifted my feet right off the ground and just about smothered me to death in his cravat. I didn’t mind that much; it was Faren-ish for I missed you. He set me back down again with flawless grace and total disregard for how it might look to the others, then returned to his main concern: “Makes it hard to strike up a conversation with a pretty lass when she only wants to talk about you!” 4 Several minutes later, Faren was still monologuing: “I’ve been dying to speak with Baroness Jasmina all night, but she keeps talking about you and won’t believe we’re friends!” He looked deeply offended. “Can you believe that?” I could, honestly—we must seem an incongruous duo—but it was indeed very inaccurate. “Would you put in a good word for me?” he asked. All right, my plans for the evening had not involved smoothing Faren’s current road to romance, but he had said that he’d picked up some information, and—well, it was Faren. “Anything for an old friend,” I said warmly, and he hugged me again. 5 As soon as I greeted her, Jasmina gasped, her eyes wide; for once, Faren hadn’t exaggerated. “I was telling Lady Madeline I didn’t know if you would make it,” she said, “but here you are! I’m almost breathless.” No almost about it, but I forged on. “A good friend of mine said I should speak with you.” Doubtfully, she said, “Do you mean Lord Faren?” “Assuredly,” I told her, and not quite lying, went on, “He’s been my stalwart companion in all kinds of adventures!” 6 Within little more than a minute, I had Jasmina asking me to give Faren her regards. I gladly escaped her (and her definitely breathless maid) and headed back to my equally ridiculous friend. “Kormir strike me if she didn’t look impressed,” he whispered. “You’re a true friend!” “Think nothing of it,” I said, and then pressed on, “So what was it you wanted to tell me?” Remarkably, he managed to summarize; he remembered that I’d suspected a minister back when we cleared the bandit caves, and had since confirmed the suspicion, which sounded very competent. I eyed him skeptically. 7 “I was out with a, ah, a lady friend,” Faren explained (I rolled my eyes), “and I saw him leaving the woods near Gibson Portage. Alone, and most suspiciously!” “You’re certain he was alone?” I asked; those woods were seething with people, if not the sort that a minister (or Faren) would ordinarily condescend to notice. “He was dressed for a dinner party and sauntering through the woods like he was at a ball,” said Faren, and there I did trust his judgment. “Might that help your investigation?” I met his grin with one of my own. “It definitely does.” NINE 1 I drifted towards a nearby group of men, all of whom I recognized; they were, if not quite friends, familiar from any number of events, and rarely overawed by much. Currently, they seemed to be talking about an orphanage that had nearly burned down, apparently the doing of some arson-minded bandits. That seemed near enough my own investigation that I shifted uncomfortably; even Zamon would draw the line at leaving orphans to burn alive, surely …? "I'm appalled at the way our politicians turn a blind eye—someone should do something!" Faren said unexpectedly, and marched off towards nothing in particular. Nicholas Winters said, “I heard you saved that Faren dandy from ruffians—suppose you could let them hold on to him for a while next time?” “Really, Sir Nicholas,” I said coolly, “Lord Faren is my friend; I could never let them keep him.” Belatedly, it occurred to me that taking offense at every little thing—or anything at all—was a poor way to gather information. 2 I chatted lightly with the guests as I followed an indirect path towards Anise, picking up on nothing particularly valuable. She and I discovered an immediate need for punch. “I hope it’s everything you expected,” she said in her driest drawl. “Just be careful whom you trust.” “Tell me more about them,” I replied, and quickly added, “I know Lord Faren, obviously, but I want to hear what you know.” “A rascal and an incorrigible flirt,” said Anise, “but a good man.” I knew that much; she noted his brief flirtation with civic duty in the Ministry, and went on to tell me about Zamon’s sister Madeline (unmarried, waiting on their sick mother), Lord Benjamin (a gossipmonger), Sir Nicholas (nothing without money), Zamon (opportunistic but foolish), and Minister Wi, who turned out to be even richer and more powerful than I’d guessed—perhaps the most so in all of Kryta. 3 Corruption usually followed wealth, but I really couldn’t think it of loyal, good-natured Minister Wi—not without proof, anyway. “What can you tell me about Logan Thackeray?” I said; even beyond the investigations of the moment, I wanted more information about the man I was more or less taking orders from. “Charming and loyal, especially to his queen, but what you’d find interesting, I can’t tell you,” said Anise. “He comes from a troubled past.” Hm—I wouldn’t have expected that, if not for his odd reaction the other day in Seraph Headquarters. “Logan is in charge of the company that protects Divinity’s Reach,” Anise went on. “How fortunate that he’s near the queen, wouldn’t you agree?” 4 “Oh, very fortunate,” I replied, then took my leave to continue the hunt. I remembered the servants’ reference to the cook, and headed off to the kitchen. It took a little bit of work to overcome his surprise and general reservations, but the time proved worth it; when I mentioned Lady Madeline, he said, “I just saw her—she was arguing something fierce with her brother, the minister, and then he stormed off, yelling about ‘business to attend to.’ Something ain’t right there.” Indeed not. He also turned out to have suspicions about the presence of so many Ministry guards, which I thought wise, and remarked that Yolanda—one of my closer childhood friends—was on the hunt for conquests. “It’s a wonder Lord Faren hasn’t gotten himself in trouble there,” he said darkly, and I had to agree. 5 I left the cook to his meditations on the perfect process for making poached moa eggs, then decided to see if Yolanda had anything useful to say. She was an inveterate gossip, so one of the more likely to store up information that might seem useless to anyone else. “I thought you’d be doing gallant deeds with our own dashing Captain Thackeray,” she said. “Not at the moment, I’m afraid.” With a very little encouragement, she told me that our old friend Corone was furious over a theft—the latest of many in Salma—and offering a reward, and that Edmonds was drinking like the dragons would devour us before the morning. “What’s the story with you and Countess Anise?” she said, startling me more than Fursarai had. “I saw you speaking to her.” 6 It took a moment to grasp where Yolanda’s train of thought had taken her, as if it ever took her anywhere else. “She’s an old friend of my family,” I said repressively. Yolanda, who was genuinely good-natured beneath her gossip and various follies—very much like Faren, in fact—looked delighted. “I knew the countess had peers and admirers,” she said, “but friends? How enlightening! With juicy tidbits like that, you can trade gossip with me anytime!” “I … of course,” I said, and regretfully suspected that I would. 7 By then, I’d spoken with virtually everyone on the first floor. That only left Lady Madeline and Lord Benjamin, whom I’d noticed talking on the stairs, and anyone on the second floor who might know something. I withdrew to the (comparative) quiet of the courtyard, calculating my next step. Madeline was my best bet, but also the one that could most easily go wrong; she was well-known to be passionately loyal to her family. Jasmina’s handmaiden—Faren had sensibly left them to their own devices for now—shifted towards me while I thought, then blurted out, “I so admire the things you’ve done. Throughout the city, women like me wish they could be more like you.” I stared at her, then smiled; I’d never thought of that. TEN 1 “I believe you were at Lord Faren’s party,” I said to Madeline Zamon, determined not to fumble this opportunity. As a ‘hero,’ I had my weaknesses—a dependence on speed and cunning over strength, dodging and running to wear my opponents down, sneaking among my illusory selves, letting them absorb attacks that might have left Mother with two dead daughters. But I knew how to talk. Lady Madeline agreed that she had been there, and with a touch of wistfulness, added that she didn’t get the chance very often; she’d moved to the countryside to help her mother, although both she and her brother had been born in Divinity’s Reach. “Minister Julius Zamon is your brother?” I said, and smiled. “You must be very proud of him.” Madeline bit her lip. 2 “Yes, but I wish that … ah, forgive me, I shan’t burden you with my worries,” she said, her eyes dropping to the floor. Please burden me, I thought, but had the sense not to say; she already seemed to be wavering, clearly wanted to tell what she knew—but charm or her own caution wouldn’t bring it out. A direct approach, I decided. “I’m sorry to tell you this,” I said, “but I have reason to believe your brother is a traitor.” Her eyes flew wide open, lifting up to stare at me. “That can’t be—he wouldn’t … no—I’d like to believe he wouldn’t, but …” “I beg you, Lady, tell me what you know!” 3 Anise had taught me how to underscore or soften my words; I stepped fractionally nearer, not menacing, just earnest. “Lives could be at stake.” “What about my mother’s life?” demanded Madeline. “We must consider the greater good, my lady,” I said flatly. She flinched, but told me, “Gods, I knew it would come to this! He was visiting Mother when a strange man came by—Julius gave him some papers, but he wouldn’t say what the were, even when I asked.” I’d barely absorbed this when she took an uneven breath, and added, “It got worse.” 4 I nodded as encouragingly as I could, and it seemed to be good enough; she exhaled, then said, “Julius left more packages at our mother’s house for suspicious characters to pick up; I came here to confront him, but he refused to discuss it and stormed off.” Not proof, but certainly suspicious; I blocked all sign of triumph from my face, and asked, “Would you be willing to testify on this matter at a trial?” She blanched. “A trial? Oh, Julius, what have you done? May Kormir guide and Dwayna protect me—yes, I will testify.” “You are doing a great service to all Divinity’s Reach,” I assured her. 5 One of the Ministry guards took my questions poorly, assuming that I’d only doubted the necessity of such a large contingent because of someone called Reth. That seemed promising, so I casually searched the room for him to no effect, then accepted Minister Wi’s proud hint that he’d also opened up the upstairs for the party, and that other guests mingled up there. I climbed the winding staircase, meeting with a guard at the door. “How might I help you?” he said. I couldn’t see any others, so I took my chance. “Is it normal to have this many guards at a personal event?” He looked as uneasy as Madeline had. 6 “I … I’m afraid it is not,” he admitted, and now I felt sure it was Reth. “I’m not certain why we’re here, precisely.” “It sounds like you have your suspicions,” I said, keeping my tone neutral and courteous. “Perhaps,” allowed Reth, “but it’s risky for us to be seen talking.” He paused. “Also, I’m parched—it would look more natural if a kind noble simply offered a hardworking guard a drink.” Holy Kormir, I thought: I’d found someone competent. 7 Fetching a cup of wine from downstairs, I handed it to Reth and murmured, “To anyone watching, I’m just a kindhearted noble, and you’re just a grateful guard.” He nodded, looking at once hesitant and relieved. “Burglaries and kidnappings are increasing, yet here we sit, idle; lately, the Guard is never where it’s needed most.” I met his glance with an even stare; that couldn’t be all. “I heard what you did in Shaemoor,” he said quickly, “and I know you’ve got Thackeray’s ear.” I didn't know that. With a gulp, Reth went on, “What I’m telling you could get a man killed.” ELEVEN 1 “Our orders arrive just before the raids,” Reth whispered. “It’s as if someone is sending us away so bandits can swoop in unchallenged.” My mind leapt ahead, but I said cautiously, “You think there’s a deeper connection, someone in the Ministry Guard working with the bandits directly?” The caution paid off. Reth swallowed and said, “Higher than that; the orders come from Minister Zamon himself.” Three testimonies of Zamon’s guilt, I thought; that should be enough to seal his coffin. After a manner of speaking. 2 “Please do something with this information!” Reth pleaded, though still quietly. I let my gaze drift around the room, keeping my posture loose and idle; it was easy, with Faren as my best friend. Nobody seemed to have noticed the outburst, however, or anything else we’d said. “I will,” I told him. “Now, enjoy your drink. I’ve got someone I must speak with.” I couldn’t wait to see the look on Anise’s face. 3 I made my way downstairs, but couldn’t find Anise in the main room, and couldn’t appear suspicious; instead, I hovered by a refreshment table, trying to think of what she might be up to. “Oh, you’re here!” squeaked a familiar voice: Lady Mashewe, a sweet but painfully shy friend of my family’s. “It’s a pleasure to see you—I adore Minister Wi’s parties, but there are so many people talking, I’m afraid to strike up a conversation.” I blinked when I turned towards her; she’d chopped and curled her hair just like mine. Smiling, I told her, “Someone as charming as you shouldn’t be so shy!” Lady Mashewe flushed and said, “Flatterer—you’ve been spending too much time with Lord Faren!” I didn’t like her any less; it was only an awkward joke, and she meant well; but, gods above, could that be the last time tonight that someone felt the need to insult my best friend to my face? 4 The gods, as usual, weren’t listening. After wishing Lady Mashewe well, rather more abruptly than I’d intended, I headed to the courtyard where I’d left Jasmina and her handmaiden. Perhaps Anise had made some dazzling discovery there, or … Halfway down the path, I froze. I didn’t see Anise, or Jasmina, or even the handmaiden. Only Minister Zamon. He’d arrived at last. 5 At the sight of me, Zamon’s lip curled into something that couldn’t be called a smile. “The hero of Shaemoor deigns to join Minister Wi’s party,” he said coldly. “Is that your official title now? Has ‘Lady Althea’ lost its lustre?” The infuriating thing about Zamon was that, for all his many limitations, he had a truly uncanny way of scenting weak spots. “It’s an affectionate nickname, sir,” I said, and returned his sneer. “If you had ever inspired affection, you’d understand.” 6 “Did you just insult me?” he cried, as if I’d never done it before—and as if he hadn’t insulted my family for years. “Perhaps Minister Wi should hear about his guest’s rude behaviour.” High words from a traitor. I shrugged and said, “By all means, let’s see how he reacts to your childish, boorish blather.” Predictably, he backed off like the coward he was. “Bah! You’re not worth my time, you preening jackanapes.” 7 If he hadn’t betrayed the queen, he wouldn’t have been worth mine. I exhaled, repressing a flash of real anger, and arranged my features into polite contempt, no more. Before I could say anything, however, or even leave, he snarled, “Go wallow in the filth with that hedonistic pig Faren and leave me be.” Despite myself, my hands clenched into fists; for one wild moment, I longed to blast him off his feet, whip my magic right through him until he begged us both for mercy. I could; I had the clones, even had a focus hidden in my clothes— “Better a pig than a snake,” I said, and bowed with a smile. A pity we’d given up trial by combat.

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1) The gods, as usual, weren’t listening: the silence of the Six Gods is a major component of humanity's current struggle for survival. 

-------------------------------------------------------- TWELVE 1 I just managed not to storm out of the courtyard. “Althea, you look like murder,” said Faren cheerfully. “I hope you didn’t leave any bodies behind?” “Not today,” I said. Not quite lying, I added, “Zamon’s out there—he must have returned while I was upstairs. You know how he is.” Faren, no doubt remembering what he’d seen, grinned at me and said, “Oh, I know.” 2 After exchanging a few idle nothings, I asked Faren and his pseudo-friends if they’d seen Anise; fortunately, she’d emerged from wherever she had gone, and stood near the entrance to the manor. Beside her stood Captain Thackeray. It felt as if tight bands had been wrapped about my lungs, only noticeable because they dropped away when I caught sight of my true allies. I made my way across the room without even trying for subtlety. “You’ve been a busy little bee, haven’t you?” said Anise, eyes sharp and focused. “I presume you’ve gotten the information we need?” Finally letting triumph break through my expression, I grinned at her and said, “More than I had hoped.” 3 “I’ve identified witnesses who will testify that Zamon had dealings with bandits,” I told them. Anise looked immensely satisfied, even smug—more so than usual, like a teacher showing off a prize pupil. I supposed that in a way, she was. Captain Thackeray gave me a respectful nod. “I’d love to throw Zamon in a cell, but politics have my hands tied,” he said. “At least with this evidence, we’ll be able to call him to trial.” I couldn’t wait. 4 Something beyond my shoulder seemed to catch Anise’s attention, amused anticipation filling her face. “Speak of the fiend and he appears,” she said. “Logan, it seemed Minister Zamon has arrived. You’re free to do your duty.” I turned about. Zamon stood near the center of the room, talking with a tipsy lady I didn’t know and Lord Benjamin. Captain Thackeray marched straight towards him, leaving everyone in the way to scatter out of his path. I suspected that people often scattered out of Logan Thackeray’s path. 5 “If it isn’t Logan Thackeray,” drawled Zamon. “I’m sorry, Captain Thackeray. To what do I owe this honour?” Captain Thackeray drew himself up to his full, towering height, and thundered out, “As Captain of the Seraph in the service of her Royal Majesty, Queen Jennah, I call you to trial!” Zamon’s jaw dropped, eyes bugging out in an expression that I immediately committed to memory. I might face darker moments in the future, but I would always have the look on Zamon’s face to comfort me. Wallowing in filth, indeed. 6 “What?” he sputtered. “This is an outrage! I demand to know the charge!” “Treason against the crown and citizens of Kryta,” said Captain Thackeray, voice touched by the same satisfaction I’d seen in Anise’s face. “May Kormir judge your words justly, and may Dwayna have mercy on you.” Kormir had blessed me all my life. I spared a moment to pray that she would grant justice to Julius Zamon. 7 A swarm of Seraph immediately marched inside, ignoring the gasps and exclamations of the crowd to march—nearly drag—Zamon away. I was going to remember that one for the rest of my life, too. “My, we’ve certainly gone and kicked the hornet’s nest here,” Anise remarked, sounding as unconcerned as she looked. “The moment we’re out of earshot, the place will be absolutely aflame with gossip.” “See you at the trial, then,” I replied, the corner of my mouth twitching up. “Thanks for a memorable party.” With a light laugh, Anise said, “Any time.”

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1) Kormir had blessed me all my life: the human PC is always blessed from childhood by one of the gods.

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THIRTEEN 1 In the babbling hubbub that followed Zamon’s arrest, I managed to forge a path towards Faren. For all my affection, I knew better than to trust his, ah, faculties in a crisis. “I knew it!” he said triumphantly. “I knew he was the one!” I patted his shoulder. “Hurry home and tell everyone what happened. I’ll see you soon.” 2 As I turned about, reassuring and shepherding the guests, a group of Ministry guards came trooping downstairs; the others marched off, but Reth halted, looking exhausted—was he thinking of rescinding his testimony? “I’m tired, hero,” he said when I approached, “tired of the lies and the politics, tired of seeing people like Zamon get away with everything. I hope you make these charges stick.” So did I; not sure what else to do, I promised that we’d do our best. “If you ever need a night off, Reth,” I told him, “there’s a little inn down at the Salma District—I’ll gladly buy you a beer.” I paused, then reached out and shook his hand gratefully. “Take care.” 3 And that was that. Minister Wi, capable as ever, restored order faster than I would have imagined possible, smoothly ushering the guests out with guards to protect them from any more of Zamon’s plots. I left him to it, returning to Salma and delivering a carefully edited account of the night's events to my mother. “If only I’d known!” she said, guilt all over her face. “I knew he was lying scum, but not a traitor.” “Nobody could have known,” I told her. “And I can take care of myself, Mama.” Even now, she looked unsure. 4 It was dawn by the time that my nerves relaxed enough for rest. I all but collapsed into my bed and let myself sleep a good ten hours; I suspected I’d need it. Sure enough, Minister Caudecus allowed only two days of preparation for the trial. I worked every moment of those days, preparing the witnesses and drafting my arguments and counter-arguments. But I forced myself to sleep through the second night; I wanted to be entirely alert for the trial. In the event, I was wiser than I knew. 5 At the Ministry, I immediately directed myself towards Anise and Captain Thackeray, who were talking about a pig for some reason. Anise, with her usual flawless instincts, turned the instant that I fell within earshot. “Now then, my young friend,” she said, “are you ready to present the case?” “I’ve gone over everything a dozen times,” I assured her. “Unless something goes horribly wrong, we’ll get our man.” Captain Thackeray actually looked pleased. “At this rate,” he said, “Queen Jennah’s sure to notice you.” 6 I started. I didn’t—but he knew the queen better than anyone, surely—but I hadn’t acted out of any expectation of royal favours, hadn’t so much as thought about it—but— “If nothing else,” he added, “I’ll make sure your name reaches her ears.” I eyed him doubtfully. With one of her wry smiles, Anise said, “Do you know her name, Logan?” “Of course I do,” said Captain Thackeray automatically. Then he paused. 7 “Lady A … Al …” He scowled, more at himself than us. “Sorry, I’m not very good with names.” Clearly—but that was, at least, better than I’d anticipated. Then he shook his head, as if clearing it of some fog. “What am I thinking? It’s Lady Gwen, isn’t it?” Anise and I just laughed.

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1) It’s Lady Gwen, isn’t it?: the original Althea and Gwen were probably the two most iconic Ascalonian women of the Searing era, with the saintly Althea burned alive, and Gwen enslaved before embarking on a path of bloody vengeance. So Logan actually does know the name at some level, enough for a vague association with the Searing, even though he selects the wrong namesake. The implacable Gwen just comes to mind more immediately in connection with this Althea, particularly as she's his own ancestress.

--------------------------------------------------------- FOURTEEN 1 “Lady Althea Fairchild,” said Anise, with a grandiose gesture at me. He snapped his fingers. “Lady Althea—that’s it!” “Althea,” I said firmly. On a whim, I extended my hand. He didn’t kiss it, thank the gods, as Faren or his companions would have done in his position, just clasped his fingers about it in a strong grip. “Logan,” said Captain Thackeray. 2 We shook hands, less like a court favourite to a subordinate ally than two warriors meeting for the first time. I was no warrior, certainly none to compare with Logan Thackeray, but it felt true in its own way. It also felt bizarre in its own way. Not that many weeks ago, I’d known him only as the great Captain Thackeray, hero of Divinity’s Reach, and rushed to the gates of Shaemoor for that reason. Now we stood together as Anise and Logan and Althea, plotting the downfall of a minister here in the very heart of Krytan politics. “Minister Caudecus is waiting,” Anise said, in her pragmatic way. “Good luck, and may Lyssa bless you with unparalleled eloquence.” 3 I’d never felt that Lyssa blessed me with much of anything, except a measure of cunning—and her magic, of course. Perhaps today would be different. “I’m a loyal servant of the crown,” muttered Captain Thackeray (Logan was going to take awhile), “but if Zamon gets off, I’m going to take matters into my own hands.” Anise and I had our own way of doing things, but still—it was good to know that, all else failing, we could depend upon the captain to solve problems with his sword and shield. It came as a relief, really. I’d known straightforward people, and I’d known competent people, but rarely both at once. “Good to know,” I said. 4 The trial of a minister had drawn so many observers that I didn’t see Faren right away; only the ripple in the crowd that accompanied Madeline Zamon’s arrival made him visible. As soon as I saw him, however, I headed through the crowd as determinedly as Logan himself. “What do you think they’ll do if Zamon’s found guilty?” someone said. Another replied, “Absolutely nothing—nobles never pay for their crimes.” We’d see about that. As soon as I emerged from the cluster nearest him, Faren grinned widely, his face lighting up; with nary a greeting, he exclaimed, “Don’t you worry one bit!” Well, that was reassuring. 5 “When it’s my turn to testify,” he went on grandly, “I’ll make your case for you—it’s going to be monumental!” Faren was, if nothing else, entirely Faren. I smiled back at him. “So, you feel ready then?” “I’m more than ready,” he cried, even more excitable than usual. Natural for the occasion, but I still wondered a bit until he added, “Zamon sent one of his sock puppets to try and bribe me away!” My eyes widened. 6 “I don’t think he realizes how rich I actually am,” Faren said disdainfully. “The nerve!” I hadn’t expected such … remarkable unsubtlety. Looking around, I could see that all three of my witnesses had arrived—and Reth wouldn’t have Faren’s and Madeline’s fortunes to fall back on. If Zamon had tried with all of them, he’d almost certainly failed. “You turned him away?” “Of course,” said Faren, with something like dignity. 7 Then he laughed, high and gleeful. “The big, stinky puppet tried to intimidate me, but I demonstrated my dexterity with the blade, and he went running back to Papa!” I decided that might fall somewhere in the proximity of a truth, anyway. “Ladies’ll do anything for a hero,” he went on, “if you know what I mean.” He gave a conspiratorial wink. I shook my head. “Whatever you say, Faren.”

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1) here in the very heart of Krytan politics: the storyline is officially called “Krytan politics.”

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[mistfallengw2]

💔 - Exes

Answer for two of your characters :3

OC's Background Relationships Ask Game

The randomizer picked Hagan and Zehmik! [under readmore cuz it got long]

💔 - Exes

Hagan's got a fair share of flings, but only two (technically three) ex-relationships that he considers such.

Gretna was his best friend and first girlfriend, back when they were teens. She had a noble future as one of Raven's shamans and he didn't want to put the burden of it all on her, so he broke up with her and exiled himself after what happened with his older brother (Martel had joined the Svanir while away to look for their parents, and when he tried to convert him as well Hagan killed him in self-defense). She knew what happened and understood, but it still broke her heart, especially as he was her only real friend in Hoelbrak. They met again once for a brief time, but then during IBS they got the chance to reconnect, and while it was initially weird that Hagan was already in an open relationship with an asura like Flom (the whole possession thing probably took the cake for weirdness), Gretna didn't lose her chance when she saw it, even standing up to her mother when she criticized her choice.

As for Daunte... it's complicated, and weird. Meeting in the Vigil, they straight up couldn't stand each other for the first years, annoying and one-upping each other constantly, then things somehow snowballed from yet another of the charr's petty jokes into sudden intimacy. They weren't technically dating, they were more "rivals with benefits" than anything romantic, but they cared for each other and whatever they had going on was comforting to both of them. They often joked about each other's death, but losing Daunte in the Heart of Maguuma hurt Hagan more than he could have ever imagined.

The relationship with Gaell started out as a simple one night stand between friends who had too many bad feelings they struggled to express, but they figured they could try to make it work, and it lasted for about a year (during LS4). At first it was intense and overall nice, but the more time passed, the more they started butting heads over nothing, as the human noble turned Priory Scholar was a bit too much of a primadonna for a headstrong down-to-earth himbo like Hagan. Eventually they decided to cut things off before they got bad, and they managed to remain friends after the awkwardness passed and having each others' back stuff took priority (during LS4).

* * * * *

Zehmik had plenty of "exes" as well during the nearly twenty years he spent in the Mists, though he considers even the longest-lasting ones as flings or "companionship of circumstances", because the only one that ever mattered is the one he had to leave behind in the first place, [name pending because I can't decide yet, gonna call him [???]]

Zehmik had been part of a fairly reputable pirate crew for a while when he met [???] in Lion's Arch, and they hit it off right away, spending all the time they could together and making big plans for the future. [???] was a brilliant mind kept away from opportunities due to part of his parentage (who was badly exiled from Rata Sum after a clandestine experiment ended up blowing up half the lab and 3.5 members of the krewe), while Zehmik and his sister Bemme had been struggling on their own since they were young. Zehmik wanted to earn enough gold to allow the three of them to live a comfortable life in Metrica as they chased their dreams, and he just needed to work for a while longer to get them there and quit for good.

When his captain died of "sudden causes" and the new captain seemed to bring bad luck, Zehmik followed some of his friends into a group of mercenaries, much to [???]'s and Bemme's worry. That job seemed to go even better, until one particularly high-risk-high-reward gig in Orr, where others made a series of poor choices that killed most of them, left Zehmik scarred (and magically enhanced), and had the Inquest sic a recovery team on their trail to get the loot they were promised. Zehmik managed to barely escape them twice with his life (the only other survivor got murdered the second time), and as he hid in Lion's Arch he had to make a choice: go back to [???] and lead danger to him (and potentially his sister and everyone else he knew), or run away so that danger would only follow him. He chose the latter, and in a moment of desperation he took the only way out he had available, joining the Mist War in the process. He stayed there for nearly two decades, only managing to send one of his earrings and all the gold he had left to Bemme through a trusted friend he made there, yet unable to do anything about [???], too afraid to know what he'd think of him and heartbroken.

Then, many years later, Zehmik follows Aurelia after the first part of SotO and finds out about the Astral Ward... and that [???] is one of them. It's messy and rough for both of them, especially at first, because for the longest time [???] thought he had been abandoned or that Zehmik had died, while the Mist Warrior had feared the same when he hadn't found any recent news of him or his whereabouts after finally leaving the Mists. Still, they eventually manage to mend things, and by the end of SotO they're happily and gayly back together, though Zehmik is firmly not on board with the whole Ward and Wizard sketchy deal (after what he's been through as a high-ranking Mist Warrior, he'd know how to sniff out something suspicious), but [???] has been doing more than he ever dreamed of there, so he plays as nice as he can (while still growling in the direction of a certain Wizard in particular).

[commanders-sole-braincell]

1) Are they woodier or leafier? Succulent, deciduous, evergreen?

honestly I've never thought about if much, but Ford's a weird sort of mid ground at the minute. Body wise he's more a softer leafier texture, but hair wise it's a toss up. His hair at the moment is mainly thorns but I’ve been imaging lately that if he grew it out it'd be more deciduousleaf that evergreen needle. So deciduousI guess 

2) were they modeled after a specific plant?

If not, what was your inspiration? Ford was honestly based off of a cat, I've always loved chimeras and other mutations - especially in how they present!

The only sylvari I have that's actually based off of a plant is technically Alasthaine - who's based off of albino plants! 

3) what kind of climate are they most comfortable in?

Ford's mostly comfortable when it's slightly warmer out, not blistering hot like the desert, but the general warmth of Caledon. Due to his dark and light patterning, extreme hot and cold occasionally flatten him a little more and it throws him off kilter

Muirghra will scream if you throw snow at him. He's not about that cold shit, give him desert or give him death 

 4) what kind of climate are they least comfortable in? 

 Accidentally answered Ford's in the question before! And Muirs.

If you put Gio in the cold, legend has it you'll learn new swears and see five invented and reinvented in two minutes! 

 5) what’s their relationship with gender?

(warnings, I'm dumb about gender and honestly still figuring out all of the cool ways to explore it! So if I say anything ignorant, my bad and please tell me so I can correct it!)

Ford identifies as non-binary, but largely uses male pronouns at present - he sees himself as a non-binary man, if that makes sense. (I actually wanted to explore intersexism with him due to the correlation that can be found between intersexism and chimeras, but was struggling to find resources, after chatting with some helpful folks, non-binary felt right, and it totally fits Ford to a T!) 

 6) what’s their relationship with the Pale Tree?

Ford believe his Mother has the sylvari races best interests at heart, but has emotionally cut herself off from her children for fear of them dying or turning. He understands her more as he grows, but occasionally doesn't agree with her methods or tone. He still behaves a bit like a child trying to get their parents attention around her though 

 7) how do they react to Mordremoth when they first hear him?

Ford felt dread since he knew all the information we know at the start of HoT. He was pushy and aggressive to be around and just, so scared that people would think he'd gone Mordrem or turn on his brothers and sisters, that'd he'd fail them 

Albuinn genuinely thought it was just some weird intrusive thoughts at the beginning, so he just sorta, shrugged off a dragon 

 8) during what cycle were they born?

Night cycle: Taihneford, Nuallslan, Lasairlugh

Dawn cycle: Albuinn, Ainlyne, Loefell, Giolladhe,

Noon cycle: The Quad, Bairnwen, Fionhuine

Dusk cycle: Murighra, Addryin, Mirfirth, Laoirech, Maevyn

 9) what are their opinions on Trahearne?

Ford had a big ol'crush. It started off in admiration for his big brother, and slowly as it crept more towards HoT, he caught serious feelings. He planned to confess once they got Trahearne out the jungle.

Giolladhe never met him, but always felt sorry for the Firstborn everyone had seemingly already buried 

 10) would they take selfies? 

Ford would attempt it and probably adore the stickers. He'd never post them though. 

Giolladhe would have an entire Instagram, tumblr and twitter dedicated to his selfies. He has mastered the artform complete with stickers and emojis. It burns people's retinas but they love it 

 11) random headcanon!

For the first month or so he was at the Vigil, Ford was desperately lonely, and had to largely rely on sympathetic people, older sylvari like Laranthir, and nearby villages for company, as he struggled to connect with the other soliders massively. He's still not close to anyone in the Pact really. Dragons Watch are essentially his first real friends 

The Quad have formed a bond with that child in the village below the wizards tower, and if anyone passing through harasses the kid, they have to deal with four mercenary siblings 

 12) how old are they? 

Ford's about 7 years old at this point! 

Mallus is the charr equivalent of someone in their 40s or 50s, and is the first to admit that retirement doesn't suit him 

 13) what does their love life look like, if they have one? 

 Ford makes eyes contact with them once then never goes near them again cuz he's a weenie. He relies on watching and listening to Kas and Jory for a guide to romance (they have no clue they're the Commanders guide to romance) 

Loefell loves his partner dearly, and is surprisingly practical for his age. He might be young and head over heals for tall, dark and brooding, but he's not quite as stupid as people seem to think. He would go to the ends of the earth for him though 

 14) what did they see in their Dream? 

 Ford saw Mordremoth, a white stag, and mainly his sister - they didn't react with much else till they merged and got yeeted out into a fight with the Court

Giolladhe saw gold 

 15) favorite thing about playing your salad? 

Ford is real dumb, and also very kind so it's a nice combo! The fact I can let the angst rip at any moment and have comedy the next also is just /chef kiss. In game I need to beef his ass up though, going all out burn wasn't my smartest idea! Albuinn is my old main, and boy do habits die hard! I can autopilot on him no problem! It feels nice to see his anxiety lessen and him grow character wise 

 16) what armor set are they currently wearing? 

Ford’s currently got a mix of Vigil, Tier 2 sylvari cultural, and Elonian - and a helmet that’s name escapes me

Stat’s wise it’s an absolute condition damage focused mess

 17) do they have a favorite major city? 

Ford loves the Grove, its home! 

Nuallslan used to love Lions Arch, don't think they'll let him back in though! 

 18) what’s their favorite food?

Lemon sherbets. Ford usually has some on hand and they just help with everything. 

 19) least favorite food? 

Omnomberries - Ford ate them constantly in Orr and has developed an absolute hatred of the things. It’s the one thing he won’t eat

20) their biggest secret?

I had one for Ford but I forgot it but this also came to mind 

Ford low-key wonders if anyone wants him around, and wishes once or twice that he’d simply, passed on during the Departing - duty and Aurene were what drew him back, not an overwhelming desire to survive. He’s doing way better now! (Going into War Eternal he was a ghost of himself) And he’d never act on such thoughts, especially not now, but they surface now and again

Also if you run your hands through his head thorns he’ll practically fall asleep then and there

Gio’s been eyeing up the higher ranks of the Court, and has slowly been using the fact he’s the more ‘fun’ and morally aligned (in his eyes) teacher, to low-key build enough for a coupe in the Court. He wants that metaphorical throne

[gaycharr]

"One chance", "collapse", and "svelt"!

Not my strongest writing but at least I wrote something, thanks so much for the prompts

“One Chance”

Marina made her way through across the castle training grounds. Usually about this time, she’d be skipping about chatting with all the members on lunch, but today her steps had a mission. You see, about two months ago her friend Sig had started bringing this elementalist charr around. Nothing out of the ordinary, except Marina had seen her fight, and there was something about the whole of her that left Marina especially interested in figuring her out.

The only issue was that Kori had become notoriously flighty. Only Sig seemed able to even get close enough, long enough to get a conversation in with the charr. She seemed skilled at giving everyone else the slip and avoiding interaction all together, ESPECIALLY the Commander. Which left Marina somewhat at a loss. She might have been able to let it go, except now it had become somewhat of a challenge, and only made her want to puzzle Kori out even MORE. And so she’d caved and asked Sig for help whilst the norn laughed loudly at her bruised pride.

Luckily, Sig HAD taken pity on Marina. She informed her that Kori usually liked to train a little before lunchtime, because it wasn’t as busy and usually everyone was getting ready to go eat. “If you catch her on her way from training, she might be too tired to dodge your questions.” Sig had suggested with a smirk a little too mischievous for Marina’s liking. But...it was all she had.

And so here she was, standing before the training grounds. Sig must have been wrong though, because she didn’t see anyone here. With a huff she turned to leave, only to snag her foot on a root and tumble forward with a yelp. Wincing as she braced for impact, instead she was slightly winded as someone grabbed the back of her shirt and hoisted her up. A strong paw grabbed her on each arm, steadying her. Marina and Kori both felt equally stunned to be staring at one another.

“Commander Renworth!” Kori barked out, snapping into a stiff salute. Marina burst out laughing, which was clearly the wrong reaction judging by the self conscious frown that snuck onto Kori’s face. Marina waved her hands around. “Please, no need for the formality, you can just call me Marina.” Kori didn’t seem convinced, but at least she let go of her salute to regard Marina nervously. (In the back of her mind Marina found herself a little amused, for a charr to be scared of her? She wondered what it was rooted in)

“Well...I really should be going.” Kori stated awkwardly, ignoring the fact that she’d literally just been walking towards the training grounds (Had Sig given her the wrong time on purpose?...No, surely not.). Marina jumped in front of her with a quick smile though, stilling her with a touch to her arm that she didn’t miss the charr gently flinching from.

“No, wait! I was actually uhhh…” That’s right Marina, think of something, break the ice! “...wondering if you would spar with me?” She wailed mentally as THAT gave Kori pause and slitted golden eyes gave her a skeptical once over that had Marina flushing despite herself. Still, Kori wasn’t running, she was actually turning to engage with her. So for now, Marina would count this as a success….

“Collapse”

Sig groaned as she collapsed into the warm sand, blood dripping from her side and staining it, she’d dragged herself far enough that no one would be able to tell where in the desert she’d come from...and that was all she needed to do still.“Fuck...I hadn’t expected Lithrul to put up so much of a fight…” She panted, holding a hand to her bleeding wound as she rolled onto her back. She stared up at the night sky, feeling her vision and head grow dizzy with blood loss and pain. This...might actually be the end for her.

The thought didn’t alarm her, she’d done what she’d needed to do… she hoped. Managing a chuckle, she ironically thought if she hadn’t done what she needed to by NOW, surely the gods would bring her back themselves.

Whatever Lithrul had coated his blades in, it wasn’t any poison she was familiar with, but she ironically found herself a little thankful for it. At least dying drugged up was better than dying in pain. Staring up at the sky, the world around her slowly started to melt away.

She descended into a dream, where the moon turned to the sun and a scorpion followed her. She was traveling through the desert, she couldn’t remember why anymore, but she knew it was important. With each step she took, she sunk further and further into the sand, until it swallowed her up completely.

When she next opened her eyes, she wouldn’t remember anything from before.

“Svelte”

The smell of smoke lingered in the closed off space of the black market that Raezial had just entered into. No one had told her where it was, something in her had just known, just as something had known she might get the information she sought here. Her expression remained neutral as her gaze swept all around her taking everything in. (In the back of her mind she catalogued things by strategy: She could use this if she needed to escape quickly, or this if she had to defend herself or hurt someone, etc.)She’d made her way to the bar, and told the bartender in a few short words what she was here for. She was looking for a person (she’d learned by now not to say ‘A person from my dream’ as most people would stop paying attention after that), and had he ever seen her. She’d asked several people, but for the first time the bartender paused and seemed to have an idea. “Aye, I think I know who you’re talking about, she was here a few months back actually. She’d been hanging around this shady character, but I ain’t seen either of ‘em since.”

If Rae was yet able to describe hope, she’d say this was what it felt like. For once, she had a lead. Now...to follow it through.

[shiverpeakstraveler]

10 facts about Glythyrr?

(Glythyrr: Hello!)

10 facts about Glythyrr

Both Glythyrr and Siobhan are pod twins and were born during the Cycle of Night

He and his sister can easily be described as bio-luminescent, as the two both seem to glow pretty brightly in the dark, even for sylvari. 

Glythyrr loves pastels and bright sparkly colors, and prefers wearing flowy robes to sylvari grown armor.

When he first met his future wife Liviana Gearseeker in Blazeridge Steppes, their meeting was just about similar to this scene in Wreck-it Ralph. (note to self, don’t spook a charr warband fighting deep within the Brand)

He has an adopted daughter named Vera (charr cub with blue-gray fur). Vera lost her parents in a Seperatist ambush, and Glythyrr barely managed to save her in the nick of time.

Both he, Liviana, and Vera lived in Lion’s Arch. After Scarlet’s attack, they relocated to the Grove until the city was rebuilt. 

He suffers from Scarlet’s Rattle, having breathed in too much of the miasma trying to get Vera to safety during the secondborn’s attack on Lion’s Arch. 

He nearly disappeared into the Maguuma Jungle during the campaign to fight Mordremoth out of fear of hurting those he cared about. Liviana managed to intervene and convince her husband to stay, saying she wasn’t going to “loose him to an overgrown piece of shrubbery” and that she wouldn’t let the Elder Dragon take him without a fight.

Since the events in Maguuma, he has been throwing himself into Elder Dragon research, going over every single detail possible in hopes to avoid another disaster such as the destruction of the Pact fleet and the events that followed.

Loosing Trahearne was pretty hard on Glythyrr, as he considered the Firstborn as an older brother and godfather to Vera. 

[chaz-targrin-gw2]

Targrin, Act 4: Redreave

(Hooboy, this one’s a doozy, clocking in at 12 pages on Google Docs, where most of my other stories come in at 5 to 7 pages! This one tells the story of how @pocket-raptor‘s Atlas and Maurus and @murellow-farts‘ Clovis tried to help Chaz get recruited into a new warband. Like last week, the next, and final chapter of this story arc will be available in a few hours, i.e. after I’ve had some sleep, so as to give folks a chance to read this!)

NAVIGATION: <- Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ->

Targrin, Act 4: Redreave

1329 AE, Diessa Plateau, Ascalon

(A month after the events of Act 3 and the Interlude)

The sun was setting on Redreave Mill, and most of the mill workers were turning in for the night, leaving behind seven charr - Chaz, Atlas, Clovis and Maurus, along with a trio of very gruff, mean-looking, very unimpressed Charr who were watching Chaz’s every move.

“Are you sure this is gonna work, Atlas?” Chaz sounded a bit anxious, as they adjusted the rifle’s tripod for their shorter stature, and started work on zeroing the scope.

“Sure thing!” Atlas chuckled, giving Chaz a thumbs-up. “You get to blow off some steam by picking off some Separatists, and those three,” he gestured to the rather bored-looking trio off in the distance, “Are gonna be practically tripping over each other to get you in their warbands.”

“What about you lot? You know, you, Maurus and Clovis?” Chaz looked over at the latter two, who were sharing a chat and a laugh. “Clovis seemed keen on keeping me around, and Maurus really doesn’t like seeing me in the Gladium Canton.”

“We just want to make sure you’re happy, buddy. And we’re getting you out of that slum, promise. Lemme tell you, I asked around to see if anyone was in need of a marksman, those three showed interest, I told them I had found a gladium whose marksmanship would blow them away. Figuratively speaking, of course.”

“And let me tell you, they took one look at me and immediately looked like they’d gotten coal for Wintersday,” Chaz retorted, “I mean look at me. All fluffy and small and clawless, and look at everyone else, all big, mean and pointy, do I look like I’d be a good fit?” They leaned down and took a look through the scope.

“Don’t worry about it. What you do is more important than how you look, you hear me? Now, is that rifle ready or-”

CRACK! Atlas jumped as Chaz loosed a shot from the rifle, before adjusting the scope and very flatly stating “It’s ready.”

“For the love of… right. Sorry. Just… warn me next time you’re about to do that.”

Chaz apologised, smoothly sliding the bolt out and ejecting the bullet casing. “Sorry about that, I tend to go a bit auto-pilot if I’m nervous, I don’t really think about what I’m doing while I’m doing it, you know?”

Atlas took a second to respond, sounding slightly stunned. “I can see that - you just loaded the magazine and slammed that bolt back in place without even looking.”

Chaz tilted their head. “I did what now?” They looked back at the rifle, pulling back the bolt slightly and seeing a bullet primed and ready to fire. “…Huh. I guess I did.” chk-chnk, the bolt goes back in place.

Atlas chuckled. “See what I mean? You’ll be fine. Right, I’ll flag the legionnaires down, you get ready.” Chaz nodded affirmatively, and got themselves into sniping stance.

“Right, legionnaires, sorry to keep you waiting!” Atlas chirped to the three grumpy looking charr. “Our marksman was just making sure their equipment was in order.”

“So what exactly are we here for again?” the stoutest and grumpiest-looking of the legionnaires huffed.

“Well, you three mentioned that you were looking for a marksman for your warbands, and I happen to be friends with a gladium who might suit your needs!”

“How long has this charr been a gladium?” the tall, lanky member of the legionnaires inquired.

“A few months, give or take. Separatist ambush late last year, they were the sole survivor, It was a pretty rough situation. They’ve recovered enough physically now to demonstrate their skills to you.”

The most dignified looking of the trio pondered aloud. “Interesting. You keep referring to our prospective marksman as ‘they’, is that… how they prefer to be addressed?”

“Chaz identifies as non-binary,” Clovis piped up from the distance. “Is that a problem at all?”

“Not at all,” the legionnaire harrumphed, “I just wanted to make sure. You say they’re fit for combat, yes?”

“Indeed, as fit as a fiddle,” Atlas confirmed. A yelp of pain and some swearing from Chaz’s direction punctuated that. “Okay, they’re still a bit wobbly on their legs. That… might have been my fault, but they’ll be fully recovered in no time!”

The dignified legionnaire nodded. “I’ll make a note of that.”

“Right, good, any other questions,” Atlas asked, looking between the three legionnaires, “Or shall we get this demonstration on the road?”

The three charr conferred with one another briefly, and nodded. “Let’s see what your friend is capable of.”

Clovis and Maurus joined Atlas and the Legionnaires for the demonstration. Atlas seemed all too eager to play Chaz up.

“Alright, everyone! I hope you brought a few drinks and maybe a sandwich or something, because our good friend Chaz, is locked, loaded, and ready to--”

CRACK! The Grins all jumped, while the Legionnaires looked on, mildly surprised. Chaz pulled the bolt back and ejected a casing before slamming it back in place.

“…Snipe some Separatists. Apparently without warning.” Everyone looked in the direction of Chaz’s shot. A good distance away, a lone Separatist lay dead, bleeding on the ground from their torso.

“A clean kill, centre mass, from that distance,” murmured the stout, grumpy Charr. “That takes some eagle eyes.”

“Ah, now that’s the thing,” Atlas explained, quickly regaining his composure. “My friend here has spent a lot of time in Rata Sum, and learned many things from the asura.” A chuckle erupted from the legionnaires, but Atlas continued. “What you are seeing is not just eagle eyes, but applied mathematics. By reading their environment, they can judge how far away the target is, and-”

CRACK! Atlas jumped again, much to the amusement of Clovis and Maurus, who were ready this time. Chk-chnk. The shot and the bolt action movement were much closer together, much more fluid. The group looked just in time see another Separatist drop, another center-mass shot from further away. Atlas cleared his throat and continued “…then trajectorize their shots appropriately.” Atlas paused to see if Chaz was about to fire without warning again. “In essence, my friend Chaz here is using math to-”

CRACK-chk-chnk - “… To explode other peoples’ heads.” Atlas sighed, but the legionnaires were thoroughly enthralled by Chaz’s marksmanship as yet another Separatist dropped. Chaz, meanwhile, was somewhat unsettlingly quiet as they focused on their targets.

The tall, lanky legionnaire of the trio piped up. “Wait. You say Chaz is exploding peoples’ heads, but they’re clearly taking the more tactical choice and aiming for their torsos.”

Atlas waved a hand dismissively. “I’m embellishing, do forgive me. Let’s just watch and see what Chaz does,” he chuckled, quietly wanting to brace himself for the next shot rather than get caught off guard again. It didn’t take long.

CRACK-chk. Chaz had pulled the bolt back, and produced a palmful of bullets from their pocket, effortlessly loading them one by one into the rifle’s magazine. While they did this, a wail filled the air, and the group looked back to see a Separatist, bleeding from the leg, yelling for help.

“He’s getting sloppy already,” the stout legionnaire scoffed. “That one isn’t dead!”

Chaz, who’d been otherwise quiet this whole time, turned their head slightly and glared at the peanut gallery of charr, shutting the stout one up almost immediately. “That’s the point.” They punctuated their sentence by slamming the rifle’s bolt shut with a chk-chnk. “Be patient, stay quiet, and watch.” They resumed looking back through the scope at the wounded, writhing Separatist.

The dignified-looking legionnaire was thoroughly impressed as they leaned towards the stout, grumpy one for an aside. “To be fair, shooting out someone’s kneecap at that range is more impressive than center-mass. Must have taken a lot of math to judge that shot.”

“I wanna see some heads exploding!” the grumpy charr grumbled. “But… you’re right. I’m curious to see what they’re getting at.”

Atlas regained his composure and cleared his throat. “Ah, yes. Chaz’s use of mathematics in their sniping is quite versatile. They can take out someone’s kneecap, or collapse a structure, or, yes indeed, explode someone’s head if they so desire.” They murmured a bit afterwards. “That said, this isn’t what Chaz had rehearsed while we were waiting for you three to show up, so I’m… quite curious too.”

“Oh, an unscripted performance!” The lanky legionnaire said cheerily. “This should be exciting.”

The Separatist’s cries echoed through the twilight sky. “Fuck, my leg! Someone help!”. It wasn’t long before one of their friends noticed, and started running towards them. “Hold on, I’ll-”

CRACK-chk-chnk! The group visibly flinched, except for the stout one, whose perpetual frown spread into the widest grin, as he cheered perhaps a little too enthusiastically. “HAH! Now THAT’s what I wanted to see!”

Chaz didn’t bother to respond, they were too focused. Time passed, another Separatist ran towards the injured one, and started picking them up.

CRACK-chk-chnk. Another center-mass shot. The injured Separatist yelped, as their would-be saviour keeled over, dropping them to the ground.

“Oh, I see what’s going on now,” the dignified legionnaire said. “Using an injured enemy as bait to lure out other targets. Cruel, but effective. Where’d you learn that tactic?”

CRACK-chk-chnk. Another would-be saviour down. Still no response from Chaz. The injured Separatist, tried to push themselves up onto their feet and limp to safety, still calling for help.

CRACK-chk-chnk. Their other leg gave out and they were left immobile. “Oh gods, someone help me!”.

“Excuse me, marksman? Chaz?” the dignified charr spoke up. “I was asking, where did you-”

CRACK-chk-chnk. Center-mass again. More screaming for help. Chaz mumbled something, but it was too indistinguishable to be heard. Maurus and Clovis started to look a bit uncomfortable, while Atlas just looked confused.

“…Come again?”

CRACK-chk. More bullets from their pocket, in one at a time. More  “…Say it.”

“What?” The legionnaires looked between each other, confused, as screams for help echoed throughout the night sky.

“Say. It.”

As Chaz reloaded the rifle and the bolt slammed shut, the cries filling the air changed. A group of about five Separatists had heard the commotion and, as the legionnaires and the Grins looked back, they saw that the injured Separatist was gesturing wildly, seemingly trying to shoo them away, and yelling out “No, stay away! It’s a trap!”

Looking back at Chaz, the group of charr noticed an unsettling change of mood. The haggard-looking runt was smiling. Not just smiling, but grinning, mouth pulled taut, into some grim expression of sadistic glee. They took a deep breath, changed their stance slightly, and exhaled.

“Finally,” the word came out hushed as they emptied their lungs. Their breath, misty from the cold night air, was caught in the moonlight. To the charr accompanying Chaz, they saw cold, calculated, unforgiving spite in that cloud of breath. To the Separatists below, frightened and disoriented, they saw the chilling shroud of Grenth himself descending upon them. The air went still, and Chaz’s hands became a blur.

CRACK-chka-CRACK-chka-CRACK-chka-CRACK-chka-CRACK-chk-chnk! All five Separatists were downed within seconds of one another, and another pocketful of bullets were brought out and loaded one-by-one into the rifle.

Atlas’ eyes grew wide. “Burn me, that was incredible! Maurus, Clovis, did you see that?”

Silence. Atlas turned around and saw only Clovis, looking dumbfounded.

“…Maurus? Clovis, where’s Maurus?”

She gestured downhill. Atlas got the sinking feeling the night was about to go that way, too.

Maurus had clearly had enough of the racket the Separatist was making. It was grating on his ears, and the gunfire wasn’t doing him any favours either. He had a headache and he wanted to go get some sleep. Chaz had demonstrated their skills plenty tonight, they were sure to get a place in one of the warbands in the morning.

He was going to put the wounded human out of their misery. It hadn’t occurred to him to give warning beforehand, he’d just stormed off down the hill to get the job done.

Looking back out onto the field, Atlas, Clovis and the legionnaires could see the wounded Separatist, still barely clinging onto consciousness. That was when they saw Maurus. Not Chaz, though.

Chaz just saw red. A large, bright red shape moving towards several smaller, motionless, dark red shapes, along with one other shape that was still moving, though its colour was fading and darkening. Whatever that bright red thing was, it was moving, and they had everything lined up to make it drop.

Distance.

“Oi, Chaz. Friendly on the field.”

Muzzle velocity. Aim up a bit to compensate for bullet drop.

“CHAZ. FRIENDLY. HOLD YOUR FIRE.”

Wind speed - the wind picked up and was blowing to the west, so aim a little bit to the right to compensate.

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE CHAZ, STOP, THAT’S MAUR-!”

CRACK.

Maurus held the Separatist by the head - he’d just snapped the bastard’s neck when he heard the shot ring out. He looked uphill, dropped the limp, lifeless man to the ground and put his hands over his mouth. “…Oh shit.” He hurried back up to the mill.

There was an awkward, heavy silence in the air - Atlas had intervened just in time, tackling Chaz and knocking the butt of the rifle so that its barrel swung upwards. The sudden jolt and the loud report of the rifle startled Chaz enough that they yelped, coming back to their senses and trying to get up, realising they’d been pinned by a very furious Atlas.

“…Ow, Atlas! Get offa me! What’d I… “ They squirmed in place, glancing around before they noticed Maurus was missing. “…Oh no.” They stopped struggling, and started shivering. “Oh, fuck, what did I do?”

“You damn near shot Maurus is what you did!” Atlas snarled, grabbing Chaz by the lapels and getting in their face. “You… what the hell, man? You didn’t know what you were doing?”

“I-I-I told you, I go all auto-pilot when I’m nervous!” Chaz stammered, trying to avoid making eye contact.

“Nervous?” Atlas barked in disbelief, “That is what you do when you’re nervous?!”

Maurus hurried into the camp. “I’m okay! I’m okay. That was my bad, I just… that screaming was too much, I went down to shut the bastard up and I should’ve said something…” He saw a surprised group of Charr, surrounding Atlas, who had Chaz on the ground. “…What’d I miss?”

Atlas snarled, but finally let go of Chaz, sighing in frustration. He got up and looked to Maurus. “This kid nearly shot you, I had to… intervene. Are you okay?”

Maurus nodded. “Considering I haven’t been shot, I’m fine, thanks. Are they okay?”

Atlas looked back. Chaz had curled up, shivering, hyperventilating and sniffling. They refused to make eye contact with anything but the ground.

“I… don’t know. I kind of lost my temper. I should probably… just give them some space for a minute.”

“Well, that was nearly a friendly fire incident,” the short grumpy Legionnaire huffed. “If it were up to me your friend here would be in the stockades by now for reckless endangerment.”

The tall lanky one shook his head. “I’m not sure. They look lost and seem to be having trouble processing what happened.”

The dignified one tilted his head. “I think you’re on the right track, there.” He glanced over to Atlas. “You there, Atlas. You mentioned earlier that your gladium friend here was the sole survivor of an ambush, yes?”

“A Separatist ambush, yeah.”

“And you said they had recovered physically?”

“They’re fit to fight, yeah. I figured they could be done with some revenge against the bastards who killed their warband.”

The legionnaire mulled this over in his head. “Understandable, but perhaps a misguided train of thought. May I have a moment to speak with your friend?”

Atlas sighed. “I dunno, ‘s up to them.” He looked over, and called out. “Hey, Chaz!” Chaz flinched and looked at Atlas, still visibly shaking. “Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble. Legionnaire here wants to come talk with you, is that cool?” Chaz hesitated, but eventually nodded. Atlas gave the dignified legionnaire a look. “…Go easy on them, yeah? They’ve been through a lot and I… might have made it worse.”

The legionnaire nodded slowly, and approached Chaz, kneeling down beside them and gently placing a hand on their shoulder. “How are you holding up, soldier?”

“…I blew it, didn’t I?” Chaz couldn’t bear to make eye contact.

The legionnaire sighed. “That’s not what I’m here to talk about, but since you asked, let’s not mince words - Your marksmanship is excellent, and as your enthusiastic friend here has noted, your ability to judge shot placement is amazing. I’m also impressed by the way you used that one Separatist as bait.” A brief pause, and a thought crossed his mind. “Actually, before I continue, I never did get an answer to my question - Where did you learn that particular tactic?”

The small Charr hesitated. “…It was how my warband was… ambushed.”

“Ah, I heard about that, you were the sole survivor, correct?”

“I was the bait.”

“…I see.” The legionnaire cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. As I said, I’m gonna give this to you straight - I cannot in good confidence allow you to join my warband.”

“So basically, I blew it.” Chaz grumped.

“Please, don’t take it too harshly. I was talking with the other legionnaires and it sounds like you’re not quite yourself right now.”

Chaz tilted their head slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Well… have you experienced any ringing in your ears?”

“Um… A little, yeah. It’s worse when I’m firing the rifle, but I figured everyone got that.”

“Mm. What about an uncontrollable urge to thump anyone who gets in your way?”

“Kind of? I don’t do too good in crowds, I get a bit panicky and I need to find a quiet spot otherwise I might lash out.” They look at their clawless hands. “Not like I’m about to bop someone to death with these things, though,” They chuckled weakly, before yawning.

“I see. Have you been getting enough sleep, soldier? You look like you’ve been up for days.”

“Can’t. The few times I do try and sleep I get awful, awful nightmares. It’s like… I close my eyes and suddenly I’m back in Sniper’s Woods. I keep seeing that man. That helmet. Those eyes…”

“Hey, hey, stay with me, soldier.” The legionnaire gave Chaz’s shoulder a firm squeeze and a shake. “Apologies, I didn’t mean to put you through that again, just… it sounds as if you’re suffering from a particularly severe case of battle fatigue. It’s a nasty affliction, and a few of my best soldiers have been taken by it in my years as a legionnaire. Normally the treatment we prescribe is to just let it out, smash some things, crack some skulls, but… evidently that hasn’t helped, in your case.”

“Understatement of the century,” Chaz scoffed.

“Indeed. I still don’t fully understand the condition, but it sounds like yours needs a more nuanced approach, or at least some good friends to keep an eye on you until you’re better. While I understand and appreciate your friends’ desire to get you back into a warband, I think tonight’s demonstration was a mistake. A well-intentioned mistake, but still a mistake.”

“So… that’s it, then? This whole night was a waste of your time?”

“Oh no, far from it! Watching you work with that rifle was incredible, and you dispatched a fair number of those Separatist bastards, in my eyes that’s time well spent, you’ve made the mill a safer place, and I believe you’ve more than earned your right to some rest. Thank you for your time, I hope your search for a new warband goes well, and I hope you can find peace, soldier.”

And with a quick salute, the three of them were off, conversing with one another about the night, with the stout one still marvelling at how that one Separatist’s head just straight up exploded.

Atlas shuffled awkwardly over to Chaz, nudged along by Maurus and Clovis. “So, uh… demonstration didn’t go well, huh?”

Chaz sighed, and curled up a bit, knees huddled to their chest, looking up at the night sky. “I feel like I’m gonna be sick.”

Atlas sighed, and sat down to the left of the smaller charr, causing them to jump a bit. “Listen. I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier. Just… when you said you went auto-pilot I didn’t realise it’d get… that bad. You were  really far gone, like you were in another world entirely. I seriously thought you were gonna shoot Maurus.”

Chaz shuddered. “That’s the worst part about it. I was so caught up in what I was doing, the only thing I remember was you tackling me and yelling at me, and I looked around and Maurus wasn’t there…  I seriously thought I had shot him. I don’t know, maybe I did, maybe this is some crazy dream where I didn’t shoot him.”

Maurus coughed awkwardly, sitting down to the right of Chaz, and putting a hand on their shoulder carefully, so as not to startle them. “Um, I’m still here. Look, the thing that matters is you didn’t shoot me. Please, don’t beat yourself up over it.”

Clovis joined the group, sitting down next to Maurus. “Yeah, you can’t spend all your days getting caught up in what could have happened, especially when it didn’t happen.” A brief pause. “If you had shot him though--”

“Clovis.” Maurus shot her a look.

“What? Was just gonna say, you’d have survived. Lookit you, you’re huge.”

Maurus nodded slowly. “Yeah, I suppose I’ve had worse.”

A long, heavy silence filled the air as the four charr looked out at the fields, the sky starting to turn a fiery red with another dawn on the horizon.

Atlas was the first to break the silence. “Listen, I know it’s not much, and it’s probably not the right time, but… “ He rummaged around in his bag and pulled out a raggedy old rifle, notched and marked and held together with bandages and sheer malice. “I think this was the rifle that Separatist bastard shot you with… you want it?”

Chaz didn’t have any energy left to get up in Atlas’ face about it, so they just looked over at him weakly. “…Is this your idea of some funny joke? That’s fucked up.”

“Woah, hey, sorry… that is kind of a dick move though. I guess I hadn’t thought it through.” Atlas set the gun aside, putting his hands up and sighing. “I dunno what the hell was going through my mind when I took it, even. Just… that man with the knife.”

Chaz looked Atlas in the eye. “You saw the guy who was torturing me?”

Atlas nodded. “We all did. Fucking coward booked it soon as he saw us come charging in, When we saw the state he’d left you in, ugh… Made my blood boil.“

“How’d you figure the rifle was his?”

“I dunno for sure, maybe it’s his, maybe it belonged to one of the cronies we already killed. Anyway, thing is, when I saw the rifle, and the bloodstains and the gunshot wound in your leg, I just thought, y’know, this sick fuck took so much from you, maybe you’d wanna take something back from him?”

“I… appreciate the thought. It’s not gonna bring back my warband, but… thank you.”

Atlas nodded, sadly. “I’m sorry. I was really hoping we could get you into one of those bands tonight. I figured you’d be really happy serving in a warband where your skills could be put to excellent use.”

Chaz sighed. “Honestly, I’d be happy in any warband. Ever since I registered as a gladium I’ve felt so… vulnerable, small, insignificant.” Chaz holds out a nubby, clawless hand and stares at it. “Like someone bigger than me could just take me and nobody would notice.”

Clovis perked her ears up, and looked over at Chaz. She stood back up, and started walking around the mill. “You know… you make a good point. Maybe someone could take you. Maybe someone already has.”

Chaz looked around. “…Should I be afraid?” That question was answered for them - they yelped in surprise as Clovis knelt down and clapped her hands over their shoulders. They squirmed in place. “Ack, lemme go!”

“C’mon. Think back to that day, when we found you. What did you say, on day that we first met?”

Chaz’s squirming slowed down, and they looked up at Clovis. “Uhhh… I figured I was hallucinating that I’d been rescued by a bunch of looters dressed in orange and purple?”

“You are correct! Mostly. Technically we didn’t rescue you from that camp, we looted you! That means we get to keep you!” She chuckled. “And a looted charr is more valuable than a rickety old rifle, so you owe me a drink, Atlas.” A sly smirk from Clovis, much to Atlas’ feigned annoyance.

Chaz squirmed some more, laughing as they realised what was going on. “Yeah, but remember what Atlas said?”

Atlas saw where this was going, and smiled. “Yeah, I said we’re not kidnapping Chaz, we need to ask them and see how they feel.”

Clovis nodded. “But at the time, all Chaz could say was that they were in severe pain and discomfort and required immediate medical attention.” She looked down at the small Charr. “So… how do you feel now?”

“I am still in some mild pain and discomfort as my wounds haven’t properly healed yet, please let me go.”

“…Oh, right. Sorry.” Clovis carefully took her hands off of Chaz’s shoulders, looking crestfallen. “With that mesmer magic hiding your scars I… kinda forgot.”

Chaz laughed. “It’s alright. Seriously though, I’d be happy to join your warband, if you’d have me.”

Clovis’ face brightened up again, and she cheered. “Woo, we looted a new ‘bandmate!”

Maurus looked a lot cheerier too. “So you’re gonna be staying with us? Yes!”

Atlas crossed his arms, nodding. “Alright. It’s not official yet, but we’ll take you to see the Grin Legionnaire as soon as we can, and fill him in on the situation.”

Chaz looked a bit nervous. “Will I need to provide proof of my combat skills or anything?”

“Oh no, nothing like that. After what happened today, it sounds like what you really need is an extended vacation. Thankfully the Grins are pretty laid back, we just get rough instructions and tackle it however we see fit. Like that day we saved you from the Separatists?”

“Yeah?”

“Our assignment was, and I shit you not, ‘Disrupt Separatist activity in and around Ebonhawke’. That was it.”

Clovis chimed in, “I decided the best way to do that was loot a camp, and that’s when we looted you!”

Chaz was rather taken aback by what he’d just heard. “Wow. So… I don’t have much in the way of obligations?”

Atlas shook his head. “None at all, really. You contribute in the way you feel most comfortable. Like I said, I’ll fill the legionnaire in on the state we found you in and the whole battle fatigue thing. He’ll make sure you aren’t forced into a fighting role or anything that involves Separatists. And if he doesn’t, I will.”

Chaz heaved a sigh of relief. “That’s… that’s incredible. Thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it. It’s the least we can do. D’you need anything else?”

“Well… I could use a drink.” Chaz coughed. “I’m pretty dry right now.”

“Sure thing,” Atlas nodded. “Let’s get back to the citadel and get you a drink. On me, as an apology for tonight. And one for Clovis, since she looted you. And one for Maurus, since he almost got shot.”

The group shared a laugh as they marched back to the citadel. Chaz looked out towards the glowing horizon, and smiled a little.

They were tired, they were sore, they still had so much to be anxious about, but for the first time in a little while, they were looking forward to a new day.

That, and a beer.

[sigfigures]

been sitting on this shit for 3 months and every time I touch it I lose motivation, so here’s like a page of shit that idk what to do with 

A clock's steady ticking fills the silence of the furnished office, competing only with the frantic scribbling of a pencil on paper. Its hands fall late, nearly approaching midnight as a soothing moonlight breaches silken, waving curtains. A soft candlelight accentuates the light of the room, as Sacrus Bloodguard sits hunched in his creaking chair, heavily leaning into his packed mahogany desk, engrossed in paperwork. Tired emerald eyes mindlessly scan seemingly endless mounds of documents and orders upon the stout office table, disorderly spread, as his pencil furiously scratches. The charr’s form expands and contracts as he lets out a heavy breath of air, his pencil still hurriedly dancing across lines of paperwork. Sitting across from his table, is a similar sight, as his aide de camp, Caerys silently watches him, her hands fidgeting in her lap. "Sire?", she hesitantly asks, "Are you sure you don't want me to help you finish up? It's getting quite late..." Her sky-blue eyes glow in the candlelight, looking at the charr pleadingly. The sound of ticking again pervades the room as Sacrus ceases his writing, dropping his pencil. He looks up from his work to the tiny Sylvari, her alabaster white skin and blue glow illuminating her immediate area. She sits tense in her chair, her shoulders bunched, playing with her fingers, a worried expression crossing her face.    "You look so tired, sire...", she comments, fumbling at her thumbs, eyes cautiously meeting his. Sacrus exhales another heavy sigh, passing a soft smile to Caerys, "It's almost time for bed, sapling. I'm just about done. I'm sorry for keeping you up." "No, sire. It's fine. It's been quite a while since I've sat with you here. And I just want you to get a good night's rest, is all. I know how much you dislike paperwork." "Eager to head to bed, hmm? I suppose I can continue my report in the AM."

Sacrus puts down his pencil, and reclines back into the heavy down of his chair, its creaking drowning out the incessant ticking. He stretches his arms outward, clenching his fists as he flexes his cramped muscles, letting out a long yawn, Caerys softly giggling at the spectacle. Sacrus sits reclined, relaxed in his chair, eyes softly shut as his snout points upwards, “The new requisition order went through when you were gone.”

“I’ve noticed, sire. Your new chair looks very fitting to your size now.”

“Hmph, I’d rather have had the time to make one myself. I feel this still might break.”

“Perhaps we should give it a break then? If you’d like, we could visit the water springs for a bath before bed! It's been a while since we've slept together." "You just want me to smell nice so you can sleep on me again.", Sacrus smirks, rising out of his chair and striding towards the Sylvari. Caerys's cheeks fill with sap, as she blushes a bright gold, she averts Sacrus's gaze, a smile forming on her face, confirming the charr's suspicion. "Come on then, you can tell me about your trip to Lion's Arch while you're at it." Sacrus leans down to pick up his tiny lover, propping her gently between his chest and arm. "I missed you, sire.", Caerys squeaks as she cuddles into Sacrus's chest.

Sacrus lets out a hearty chuckle, “And I missed you too, sapling.”

-----/////

"I went to see old Ironguard's new mender, and she was a rather spooky character." Sacrus strides through his office with Caerys in hand, ducking through the small doorways towards the outdoor bath. "Spooky, huh? How so? Tell me about her." "Aye, she was like my polar opposite, actually. Really dark skin, blood-red eyes, and her personality was rather abrasive. Almost mother-like. She was a necromancer, too!" "That does seem like an eerie combination. Or fitting, for a necromancer." The two wind down the moonlit path, a gentle breeze pushing at their backs. They follow a winding trail of lively trees lining a babbling brook, a tributary to the spring. The pair arrives at the outdoor bath, a small clearwater pond, its warm waters heated by the arid air. Sacrus softly places Caerys on the water's edge, then motions to unbutton his tunic. "What did she tell you about your health?" "She says I'm growing strongly and that I have a really tough line of work for someone of my stature, but I should be fine." Caerys kneels down to the water's surface and undoes her leafy dressings, the natural cloth falling to the ground, revealing her petite, naked body to the Ascalonian air. She waltzes forward, moonlight soaking into her body, accentuating her alabaster-white skin. Breaching the water, she wades in until she’s waist-deep, fingertips delicately gliding across the surface, rippling the mirror-like surface. "She has a point.", Sacrus states as he removes his trousers and loincloth, sitting himself on the edge of the pond, clawed feet testing at the water below. He gazes out towards Caerys, smirking, slipping his feet under the water and sliding into the pond. Coming midway up his thighs, he reclines into the water, sitting on his rear, tail relaxedly bobbing towards the surface. “I don’t think she could convince you to do anything else, though. You’ve been doing a great job.”

Caerys perks at Sacrus’s words, wet palms rising to clutch at her cheeks. She excitedly trods back towards the shoreline, wading towards a surprised Sacrus, The cool water splashes upon the pair as she tackles his chest in a gleeful shriek, leading Sacrus to unflinchingly and reflexively catching her body, preventing her from falling back into the spring.

“W-whoa, now…”, he sputters, softly pawing over her back as she squeezes him in a hug. “Settle down there, sapling.”