#like alysannyra

[redwayfarers]

hi nero!! how'd you come up with the names for cass' family? i'm trying (and currently failing) to figure out names for sora's biological family but i haven't gotten anywhere all day :')

Hi! First off, I’m very honored you’re going to me for advice hh naming characters (and their families by extension) is very hard sometimes but in the case of Cass’ family, it was fairly simple. I chose an already existing, irl name for Cassander, which is Greek in origin, so it naturally led to all of the family members having Greek-inspired names. I went for ancient Greek personally, but they’re greek-themed! I went to a random ancient greek names list and chose the ones that appealed to me the most.

Do forgive a little rambling about the name choices for the main fam!

His mother’s name’s Theokleia, which sounded kinda ironic given how strict and domineering she is. Lots of vowels makes for a more melodic and softer-sounding name, after all. Turns out upon research it’s a variation of the name Thekla or Themistoclea :)

Aiantes is his father, whose name I quite literally took from the Iliad.Once more ironic, given that iirc Ajaxes/Aiantes (I read the Iliad ages ago, I don’t remember the details well) were heroes, let’s say, and Aiantes Inteus/Lascaris is would rather hide (and does, behind his much scarier wife. In truth, he’s a diplomat and Cass got his way with words from his dad.)

Despina-Helena, his older sister, is my mish-mash of Helena/Helen and Despina, which means ‘lady,’ but is also a bit of an homage to a very influential woman in Serbian history, Olivera Lazarević, also known as Olivera Despina Lazarević. (While an homage, I like Olivera Despina much more than I like Despina-Helena and they are not comparable in the slightest lmao)

Nikias, his younger brother, has an actual ancient Greek name. There’s an Athenian politician of the the antiquity that has the same name.

Aftonio, his youngest sibling, I can’t be sure of entirely but it’s Greek-sounding enough, I’ve seen that it is unisex (which is cool since Aftonio is nonbinary and uses they/them pronouns!) Now they have a god-awful history with Cass that I’m not gonna get into here, it know just involves Vestran civil war, Alassar swords and scars :’)

Current project is giving names to my melusine Wayfarer’s giant family, all Byzantine inspired, and so far I have Honoria (her name), Justinian (her father, also Justinian the Great is like an actual emperor) and Galla (her mother; part of the name of an actual roman empress Aelia Galla Placidia.) So historical figures are also a thing you can look into.

Sorry if this was a little all over the place, I hope there’s a part that’s actual advice hidden in there :’)))))

[i-mybrunettelady]

it is an ancient ascalonian belief that lighting candles invites the favor of the gods. in every proper home of the ascalonian rites, one is lit for each of the six; as long as it burns, there is hope for that home and for ascalon. candles also invite the spirits of long gone warriors to protect and inspire ; for world is loss and grief, and faith and hope, as balthazar's scriptures teach us. so take heart, o' heretical daughter of ascalon, o' vain godkiller, and rejoin the war eternal. light a candle for those you've lost; say your prayers to the gods you still believe in. and say a prayer to yourself, as you know that death is not the end, but the end of the beginning. did your little adventure to the domain of the lost teach you nothing, after all?

[ohpollenpowder]

So that picture of Lucretia? Was photobombed by a divebombing...I think Odetta? Not sure, there for the hud-hidden screenshot and gone on the next! Kinda like how I kept missing any shots of @i-mybrunettelady's Alysannyra! (I have like. Two shots of her. And none of them are front facing with hud-hidden.)

[dissidiacloudstrife]

for gw2 character matchups: alysannyra (she/her, bisexual) - Commander, charismatic but also the most difficult person you'll ever meet, ambitious and iron-willed. has had some pretty wacky ideas that happened to work out.

holds up candy!

candy (she/they/he) is a "sylvari" from elona, she's basically a mobile pale tree, able to spawn pods when safe, but rarely lets it happen anymore. despite this, they're the warband leader for the Biohazard Warband, and they become the mercs in the raid story lines. in between that, he works with the pact to help complete missions with his warband. everyone is chronically ill with Something, but haven't lost that spark of fighting, or simply like this family. candy himself has issues with a sludge thatll come out of his mouth thats poisonous.

they reason i think they would work together is candy is here for the stubborn and wacky ideas. (for human based raid wings they use a type of scarab plague someone carries in the group)

candy might be no-nonsense when it comes to working, but they really connect with people who are Determined, id say candy would enjoy Alysannyra as a commander and friend!

[kerra-and-company]

Friend match ask game:

a. Sanne enjoys improvisation when it comes to music! She sometimes sits down with a guitar or another instrument in her hand and asks people for inspiration for short songs.

b. Nyra has great interest in translation and wants to know to read old ascalonian! :D

Friend time! :D @i-mybrunettelady Music mention for Sanne means I have to bring up Rel--well, I don't have to, but he'd be disappointed if he wasn't mentioned asdljfadsf, especially because he also is very much an improv person! I could see them having lots of fun either throwing inspo at each other or doing it together. And translation mention for Nyra (which is very neat, I love) gets you Nisha! Rel's thing is history, but Nisha's thing is languages. Xe can't read Old Ascalonian either, but xe would definitely be willing to do the work with Nyra to learn how. (Also, my mental image of them as study partners is making me happy :D )

[pinkplantmakesstuff]

Graven Images

This is totally inspired by @i-mybrunettelady​ and her writings of her awesome commander Alysannyra’s  connection to stuff like the gods and the pale tree etc!

And combined with Holding Out for a Hero with the line “Where are all the gods” made me realise, Pép would be expected to at least appear to worship the six too, despite them being the human gods, and I wanted to explore that. As always sorry for any weird grammar or mistakes, but eh it was neat to write!

The temple Nathaniel had brought them to was extravagant. The embellishments that decorated every wall looked expensive, and probably cost almost as much as some of the houses Pépin had performed at, though perhaps not quite as much. Sunlight filtered in through the high, stained glass windows, but the candles and floating wisps of magic scattered around provided most of the lighting. The sylvari had never been to any other place of worship - though he assumed the gods were always afforded such luxurious decorations no matter who was seeking their presence.

The six gods, represented in hand carved ornate statues, watched over all who entered. Pépin assumed their gaze was supposed to bring comfort and relief, yet all he felt was judgement. 

They didn’t come here regularly, Nathaniel wasn’t a particularly religious man but Pépin was always expected to appear alongside him. Upon arrival Nathaniel gave one of the Priests a pouch heavy with coins, and a part of Pépin wondered if it really was only those who could donate plenty were eligible to garner the help of the gods, but he squashed that thought immediately.

As was expected, they went from statue to statue, paying their respects. Each one towered above them both, casting their stone gaze on the pair. Their beauty and power was cold, unreachable - yet shockingly human. Pépin felt an ache in his chest, the differences to himself were agonisingly painful. 

The only statue he’d originally felt any sort of connection to when he’d first learnt about the gods, had been Melandru; with her wooden body and her connection to nature. He remembered when he’d first asked if Melandru was like him, but he’d been... corrected, very quickly. The six were nothing like him, and he’d most certainly never be anything like them.

Once Nathaniel and Pépin had made their way around each of the statues, it was time for them to separate and pray to a particular god of their choosing. Nathaniel was partial to Kormir- truth and order. A respected decision amongst the nobility it seemed, Lord Bellerose was a kind and honest man after all. 

Pépin was under instructions to pray to Lyssa, for reasons he was still unsure of. She represented several things, but beauty was what came to mind. If she was the epitome of it, then Pépin had a long way to go in his opinion - his twisted roots and gray skin were nothing like the smooth marble in front of him. Despite the constant leering from the people he entertained, under the stare of Ilya and Lyss he felt abnormal, inadequate, ugly. 

Gently he placed a hand on the stone in front of him - was he supposed to feel something? Some divine wisdom or warmth? Were the questions and problems he had supposed to be answered and solved by the graven images in this room? He didn’t know. 

His other hand was clenched tightly in a fist as he stared up at the faces above him. Why wouldn’t they help him? True he couldn’t feel the warmth and sense of peace they seemed to provide to the other people around him, but surely that didn’t mean he didn’t deserve their help? Was he truly that undeserving of aid no matter how kind and forgiving he tried to be, that even the gods had deserted him? Just as the Pale Tree once had?

It was only when he felt a firm grip on his shoulder did Pépin realise how long he’d been mournfully observing the statue of Lyssa. Nathaniel was finished with his prayers and it was time for the pair to leave. Bowing his head he followed his guardian out the temple in silence. The pair exchanged no words - the sylvari was simply relieved to be out of site of the cold, distant statues.

[i-mybrunettelady]

Nyra enjoyers do me a favor... I'd greatly appreciate it if you could pinpoint down what exactly do you like best about her.

I am conducting a lil research thing that's called looking into my ocs' heads, it's very fun, and I don't think she'd be where she is now without you guys so I'm crowdsourcing opinions!

[i-mybrunettelady]

POLEARMS NYRA REAL,,, POLEARMS NYRA REAL!!!! I REPEAT POLERAMS NYRA REAL

[i-mybrunettelady]

Wavy hair Nyra canon

sketch by loml @just-eyris-things 🥰🥰🥰✨️✨️💕💕💕✨️✨️♥️♥️

[i-mybrunettelady]

hello, hello! annual reminder that nyra is very bisexual and very open about it, so if you see me her running around in a bi-colored suit tomorrow, come say hi!

this is also something she'd wear to pride in modern au with like a bi-colored tie but that's neither here nor there

[i-mybrunettelady]

as if she needed big dick energy, i went ahead and gave her some

[i-mybrunettelady]

a story of how (not) to be a big head

Summary: A Pact camp finds itself with a strange Mordrem on their door. It's Renira's duty to sort it out. Content warnings: Slight violence. Spoilers: None.

There’s commotion in the camp. Renira inwardly curses it - the camp was quiet for once, without any bigger threats, and she had half a thought to sleep a little. The looks Doern was giving her were quite worrisome. She can only imagine how she looks. 

But there’s little time to rest in war, so she grabs her pistol from a nearby table, fixes her face so it doesn’t show how annoyed the news has made her, and leaves. As the highest ranked officer in the camp, it’s her duty. The thought makes her head spin; she’d never envisioned herself in this role. She’s always been a good infiltrator, a good spy, but a good Commander? That’s above her spy training. That requires adapting to. 

That’s also what Nyra does best. Oh, she’s there too! It’s still a little unclear whether Nyra technically outranks her in the matters of the Pact army - she is their military arm after all, and Renira is their spymistress. But they share a rank and a title. Renira needs to be there, though she is a little glad she can probably safely defer to Nyra’s expertise on this issue. 

Her tired mind would be very grateful. 

“What’s happening?” she asks the first person she comes across, an asura in Vigil uniform. Their eyes are panicked. 

“Warmaster Bjornsdottir and her team came back,” they tell her. “They brought.. A Mordrem back.” 

“A Mordrem?” Renira keeps her voice steady. “Has it been brought aside for questioning?” 

“He,” the asura replies. “Vehemently opposes being referred to as it and insists that it.. He won’t talk to us otherwise.” 

“Mordrem know of gender identity?” She makes a mental note of that. 

“Apparently. Commander Sulver, this Mordrem.. He’s strange. Looks more like a sylvari than the husks we fight. The Warmaster said he fought with them and killed his own brethren. He’s tied up, just in case of any danger, but so far he’s not caused harm to us.” A pause. “He does have thorns for a tongue, though.” 

“So I should be wary of bites,” Renira nods. “Your help is much appreciated, soldier. Leave the rest to Commander Ainsaph and me.” 

The asura gratefully nods and runs along. She steels her nerves - that Mordrem looks to be a right pain the ass, even if she’s cautiously curious about him - and makes her way to where Warmaster Bjornsdottir and her team are. And true to the soldier’s words, she holds a Mordrem by the hair. 

Yeah, this might just be the strangest Mordrem she’s seen in her life. His bark is a deep green, and in the dying light of day, the high points of his sharp face are starting to glow a bright red. Red horns grow between strands of red foliage, long enough to reach his waist. Red, blood-like patterns splash his neck and go down his chest and lower, hidden by the torn, leafy clothes. 

But what she focuses most of her attention on are his eyes - dark red, glowing, with unsettling, golden irises. And when he notices she’s watching, they turn to her, unblinking. Then his eyes widen. “You’re one of us!” 

“I am not working for Mordremoth,” Renira explains cooly. 

“Obviously not, I’m not fucking stupid, but what I meant is, you have magic like us. Like me. I’d wiggle my fingers to make an illusion or two but your ridiculously harmless friends tied my fingers too.” A laughter, maniacally amused. “Is it true you people tie each other up for funsies?” 

“For funsies?” Renira repeats. Bjornsdottir repositions herself and uses her free hand to slap him across the face. “Some people are aroused by being slapped too. I see you’re not one of them.” 

“Not particularly,” he says, voice subdued. Someone laughs from the gathering crowd. “Ouch.”

“That’s our guy?” Nyra suddenly intones, and any clamor the hit might’ve caused dies down. “Our strange little Mordrem?” 

“What a delightful lot you people are,” he scoffs. “Guy surrenders and doesn’t fight back and what does he get?” 

“You are in an enemy camp,” Nyra reminds him. “Since you surrendered, we will not harm you. Aisanne, let his hair go.” 

Aisanne looks Nyra in the eye and then, begrudgingly, lets go. Mordrem's head falls forward. “Fucking finally,” he mutters. 

“Do you have a name?” 

“Kassandros,” he says and looks at the state he’s in. Renira thinks his arms, pulled back, must be aching by now. She stretches her neck to see if his fingers are really tied. They are; that was a smart call. That limits one type of spellcasting he could use. He catches her looking once more. “It’s more dignified than the situation I’m in right now, in case you were wondering.” 

Renira tilts her head. Her chest tightens for a mere moment before she lets it go. “Life rarely is dignified,” she simply says. 

“Mm, quite. And where’s the Commander? The big bad dragon slayer?” 

“Big and bad?” Nyra lifts a brow and smiles slightly. “That’s one way to talk about me, certainly.” 

Renira watches. They were all on the Glory of Tyria when Zhaitan fell, though history will most likely remember the one who fired from the cannons and not the ones who killed the lifeless minions around them. But it is expected. Careless, maybe a little reckless, but a challenge to the dragon nonetheless. If it were up to Renira, she wouldn’t reveal anything until absolutely necessary. 

But that’s not Nyra, is it? Besides, it takes the focus away from Renira. The way Kassandros looks at her, studies her, even without using his magic, makes her skin crawl. She’s been told she has a similar effect before. She does not appreciate being seen like this. 

“Knew it’d be you - or someone like you, anyway. You just seem like the type to oh so bravely walk up to a dragon and maybe die for the audacity.” 

Nyra’s smile drops. “I am sworn to protect Tyria from them,” she says sharply. “Just as you turned your back on your own. That’s equally fucking ballsy, and might just get you killed long before your master ever finds out about it. I’d pick my words more wisely if I were you.” 

“Noted, Commander,” he grins and they only have a glint of his fangs before Bjornsdottir’s levelling her fist at him again. This time around, he flies to the side, groaning when his head hits the grass with a thud. 

“I know you said no harm, Commander,” Bjornsdottir says, “but he’s making this into extraordinary circumstances.”

“Honestly, would’ve done the same myself at some point, probably,” Nyra shrugs. Kassandros stares at her with wide eyes, panting. 

“Listen, I bear no more love for the leafy bastard than you,” he says as he tries to sit up and falls down. “In fact, I hate him. I hate him, I hate the spawn of my mother he made. I hate my siblings, I hate the control, I loathe it all! They can all go fuck themselves for all I care! And you people are the best shot of doing just that. So I’m on your side. I’m helping you.” His angry, unsettling gaze passes between the three women around him, made all the worse by his helpless position on the ground. Nobody makes a move to help. “I ask for protection in exchange for information and aid. I know how my people work. I know the jungle–” 

Aisanne bristles. 

“I know the jungle, okay, okay, no need to hit me again,” he breathes out. “All I ask is protection. And you’re getting so much in return.” He closes his eyes and sighs.

Everyone falls silent.

“It’s… It’s true that we need a better layout of the jungle and of the Mordrem,” Renira says after a moment. “I mean no offense, Warmaster Bjornsdottir, but wouldn’t your job be easier if we had a better layout of the place we’re trying to fight in?”

“Then I’ll make one,” Aisanne says and bores her eyes into Kassandros. “But– He did fight with us. He didn’t resist the capture. He did surrender.” 

“Ren, is there any mesmer magic currently active on him, if you can notice it?” Nyra asks. 

“If I could, it’d be shitty magic,” Renira replies and makes a few steps forward. “And I do not think our Mordrem is an amateur.” 

“Thank you?” Kassandros pipes up, more than a little confused and bewildered.

“We can always call our Priory arcanists,” Renira continues. “Elandrin isn’t here, unfortunately. But he’s not the only Arcanist in our ranks.”

“Do it. I’ll consider the option if they say there’s nothing.” Nyra waves a hand to the nearest soldier to go look for any Arcanist they can find. Of course it’s all down to her. Renira smiles. “And in the meantime, for the fuck’s sake, help the guy sit up.” 

“How very generous of you,” Kassandros whispers when a scout helps him up. He still looks angry, but his voice is more subdued this time. If Renira had to guess, he’s aware of what situation he’s in and acts more or less accordingly. And for what it’s worth, he doesn’t seem to be lying. She’s made lies her trade, after all. She would have a very good idea of what lying looks like. 

He gives her a long, lingering look. His clothes are only barely tethered to him. His face contorts in a grimace whenever he tries to get his arms in a more comfortable position. The image is familiar, almost too familiar, another life flashing before her eyes in the rare few instances Vera had a reflective surface to catch a glimpse of herself. 

It’s a face Renira doesn’t remember, but she remembers the rags, the anger, the aches. Kassandros presses his lips tightly together, swallows thickly and something flashes in his eyes for a moment before he looks at Aisanne and Nyra. Aisanne frowns. Nyra observes with an emotionless face, but Renira knows there’s a morsel of empathy in her heart. 

A trick to garner sympathy, she tells herself, but the pain in his eyes was as clear as the horns on his head. She knows of such pain. She doesn’t trust fully, but she trusts that it’s there, even if a little played up. A part of her, the less rational one, thinks that you can’t lie about it. The rational one thinks you absolutely can. 

She supposes the decision is not hers. Nyra seems more than happy to make it - and face the consequences afterwards.

Yet, just maybe, she’s already trying to think of people who might watch him. 

[i-mybrunettelady]

thinking abt nyra's body image issues that persist throughout the years. like, balthy fucked her up really good, in so many departments, and this is but one of them - thinking really hard about her not even being able to look at her own hands at first and wearing gloves even in season 4. thinking about her struggling with physical intimacy; touching over the clothes, hugs are fine, but anything more than that gave her anxiety for a long time.

and her love language is physical touch, she finds it very easy to feel touch starved. i may have mentioned this before but her home chapel/church in her dr mansion doesn't have a statue of balthazar. she views herself as the last testament and his last shrine, even if she hates him, because he took her faith that she later regained, but he also took her love language for her, and she had to fight for that too.

right now, she's in a much better place but like,, she still has her bad days and i hope she knows that she deserves the whole world jesus

[i-mybrunettelady]

32 for nyraaaa :3c

babygrilllll

32. Someone my muse has betrayed

going right for the jugular, i see..

trahearne, hands down. she isn't a backstabbing person, and she will rather tell you how it is than do anything behind your back, but in the event of her own glory or someone else, she will choose her own glory. such is the nature of her frankly ruthless ambition. and she does consider this to be betrayal, and she owns up to it, but not many people see it as betrayal in the same sense as she does. because, uh, hero worship. and her sheer magnetic presence. like you have to stare so much into the sun to see its surface kinda presence. that's just nyra for ya.

also, balthazar. she did pray to balthazar, as she does to all other human gods even if she was blessed by lyssa, but turning back on your beliefs because, well, glory and world needing saving is a pretty dang big betrayal in my books, and in hers. and not only turning back, she killed him. to a grand cost to herself, of course, but she did kill him.

and while few people fault her for trahearne, there's a sizable portion of the clergy of dr that considers her a heretic, a godkiller (derogatory), someone not to be associated with, and there's a good chance she'll be chased out of balthazar's temples. she doesn't even feel entirely comfortable in the temple in rurikton, where she was first baptized as a kid; as a people whose history is marked by war, balthazar is a deity a lot of them turn to, so she isn't entirely welcome in the sacred, ascalonian spaces of balthazar worship. but then again, she did complete adelbern's crown, and she did convince eir to give magdaer to her bc well, she's ascalonian.

tl;dr nyra's ascalonian (affectionate) (derogatory)

[i-mybrunettelady]

Nyra: *sighs in bisexual* Yeah, me too bud

[i-mybrunettelady]

inquisition!nyra photo dump bc i miss her