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elfboyeros · 6 months ago

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Photogenic

The First Chapter of Brier's Three: Raining Academics. Read about the nerds!

“Ms. Urgent makes seven students that have had to be rushed to the infirmary this year and it isn’t even the end of May!” Sloan huffed.

Sitting at the long meeting table with a few teachers and other staff members, including, Casper, Percy, Georgia, Calvin, a few other healers, the administrator of the hunters and huntress, the housemaster and housemistress over the dormitory, and of course Indigo.

“This has never happened before who can these kids just lose their abilities to perform magic or alchemy,” Percy scoffed.

“Granted this isn’t lasting,” one of the healers mentioned, “Thankfully they are regaining their abilities after a few days.”

“Urgent is different, however,” Sloan hummed with a nod, “She was carried into the infirmary by Mr. Couri, the other students were able to enter the infirmary on their own.”

“That’s assuming Ms. Urgent is a part of this group, she appears to be exhausted,” another healer added

“Appears,” Georgia repeated with bitterness in her voice, “she could very well be a part of this group we just don’t know yet because she’s still unconscious, maybe whatever is going on is affecting her differently.”

“She is fae,” Sloan mentioned quietly, “all of the other students are human.”

“See!” Georgia exclaimed loudly, “Mallory is fae!”

“Ms. Nozadze, please we are just—”

“Mallory is my apprentice!” Georgia shouted, “I have seen how she treats herself! She doesn’t push herself to exhaustion! Mal is an athlete! She takes care of her body and is more concerned about her health than I am about my own! She would just pass out because of exhaustion, I know that!”

Everyone in the room is silent before Calvin looks at Indigo, her hands clasped in front of her as if she praying to the goddess her forehead resting against her fists as she sits at the head of the oblong table, “Angel?” her husband asked curiously, “I know you’re thinking.”

“She will come down, not in a plague or famine, Mother Goddess will come down in curse man will a purge of all mankind of his power,” Indigo recited, “Bridgehid will one day curse all man for their corruptions only gift back the magic and whimsy when she sees that man himself has repented in full.”

“The Goddess’s Canvass Deliberate?” Georgia commented.

“It does sound similar to what we are currently experiencing,” Calvin muttered, holding his chin.

“It could be mere coincidence,” Sloan shrugged, “Remarking of religious hymns to the masses to explain what is happening to their children will only spark fear and create extremely religious and non-worshipers.”

“What if someone is taking the gospel to heart,” Percy remarked, “and doing this to the students because of some wrongdoing that the school has committed against us.”

Everyone fell silent once more. The idea that someone was purposefully doing this to innocent students didn’t sit right, especially when it seemed to be in the name of the saint over the island. No that didn’t sit right with anyone.

Indigo sighed, “It is normal for magical energy and power to ebb and flow when one is young and training, but not like this.”

“And that’s not normal for alchemists at all,” Sloan added

“Start with those who are extremely religious or those who have studied theology,” Indigo instructed, “Am going to assume everyone in this room does not have a hand in anything if this truly is some kind of repentance. If it turns out that no one within the college is involved, there is nothing we can do outside the college gates.”

Everyone lets out a sound of agreement while nodding, “Keep in mind this is not a witch hunt, we are merely investigating what is happening to our students,” she added, before sighing once more, “You are dismissed.”

On cue, everyone involved left except for Calvin, “Tell me what you really are thinking,” he muttered as she crossed her arms and led her head on her forearm, “Everyone is gone.”

“Why does something go wrong when our kids get enrolled?” She vented, “With Rowan, it was finding out about Duke’s experiments, with Aurora it was the theft of the sacred tools, which we never solved, now with Alexandria and Finnegan it’s only getting worse! It’s like we are throwing them into danger!”

“Maybe we are some kind of bad luck magnet,” Calvin said with a light chuckle.

Indigo groaned, “Don’t say that! This is our children we are talking about!”

“I’m sorry, Angel,” Calvin sighed with a soft smile across his lips, “But these are our children, nothing is going to happen to them.”

“Calvin, they are just like anyone else.”

“No, they are like everyone else, Indigo,” Calvin sighed, getting out of his chair, and making Indigo straighten up, her gaze following him as he walked around her, “They are our children. Aurora is becoming a fantastic healer and she’s only 18, Alexandria is at the top of their class and proficient at the mage craft—”

“The fact that they are so powerful does frighten me a bit,” Indigo remarked, turning her chair to look at him as he stood by the window.

Calvin chuckled, before looking at the window, seeing their son crouched near a small pond feeding ducks, “and Finnegan, your son—”

“My son.”

“Your son is becoming a fine young man,” Calvin replied, “He is becoming a great mage thanks to you, and he’s becoming quite the protector.”

Indigo sighed, “He also worries me.”

“How do you think I feel?” Calvin joked, “You all worry me!”

Outside next to one of the ponds on the expansive Bridgehid campus, Finnegan is still feeding the ducks, making sure one of his mother’s many loves in the world is happy and healthy. He doesn’t hear the camera shutters, he doesn’t realize that there is a very tall lanky guy taking pictures of him from afar, as he has never figured out his mother’s sixth sense of knowing when she is being watched and when people are around her. So, he doesn’t realize that his photographer friend inches ever closer, continuing to take pictures of him.

“Has anyone ever told you, you are tremendously photogenic~”

He jumped at the sound of the voice, honeyed, masculine, and light, hitting the center of his eardrums while also being on his level. Looking at the source Finnegan is met with deep buttercup yellow eyes and an ivory face, brown hair dipping into the photographer's face.

“Hi, I’m Bonnie,” the photographer said.

“… Finnigan.”

Bonnie smirked, camera in hand as he continued to stare at Finnigan in the crouched position, “How did you get that scar on the corner of your lip?” he asked, reaching to touch Finnegan’s face attempting to touch his scar before Finnegan grabbed his wrist halting his Bonnie’s movements.

“You’re too close,” Finnegan stated before letting go of Bonnie’s wrist before he stood up.

Focusing back on the ducks, he can still feel Bonnie behind him, hearing the shuttering of his camera, “Do you like ducks?” the photographer asked.

“Not necessarily,” Finnegan muttered.

Bonnie hummed continuing to take pictures, “So who’s making you feed the ducks?”

“No one makes me,” Finnegan scoffed, “Maman likes ducks, so I feed the ducks.”

“I am assuming that maman is mother?”

Finnegan hummed softly, nodding, before standing. His gaze once again met Bonnie however he was at eye level with the dirty blonde’s chest. He is extremely tall, which caught Finnegan off-guard, after taking in his height the mage boy walked away.

“Hey, wait!” Bonnie called following behind him.

“I have to get to class!” Finnegan huffed.

The two boys walked down the stone paths around the outside of the school building, “There aren’t a lot of classes during the summer, what class do have at noon?”

“It’s a magical weapons training class,” Finnegan answered, before turning to look at Bonnie then swiftly turning away and walking faster, “Why the hell am I even talking to you!”

“Oh, you’re going to a weapons class?! Perfect, I was asked to take pictures of the summer classes for the school’s website.”

Finnegan rolled his eyes as it became more obvious that he wasn’t going to be left alone. Even once on the weapons field, even with the students on the turf with him, the instructing of his educator, and the thoughtful gaze of his father he could still feel Bonnie’s camera lens on him as if he could hear the shuttering of the camera itself. The fact that Bonnie was there, watching him specially, sat in the back of his brain eat away at him, causing him to make mistake after mistake.

“Finnegan?” Calvin called as his son packed up his things at the end of class.

“You should really have some kind of grip on the training spears if we keep using them we’ll start getting—” Finnegan turned to face his father while speaking only to stop when his face placed his large hand on his forehead, “Papa?”

“Are you okay? Do you feel alright?”

Finnegan clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth, “I’m fine,” he scoffed pulling his father’s hand off his forehead, “Just… being stupid.”

“You’re allowed to make mistakes, son,” Calvin remarked, “There is no need to be perfect.”

Finnegan gave his father a small smile, “I know but…” he paused seeing Bonnie over Calvin’s shoulder still taking pictures, “Papa, I have to go!”

The mage boy grabbed his things before racing inside with a quick “Love you, see you at home!” thrown at his father.

Racing down the halls of the college with his school bag hitting his side as he did everything to get away from the tall boy with a camera, finding his way in front of his mother’s office door, before swinging the large doors open.

“Finnegan?” Indigo asked concerned, seeing her son out of breath and disheveled in her office doorway.

“MAMAN! I need you to kill someone!”

Her office was devoid of anyone but herself and the cat familiars apart of their family, who were cuddled up on one of the chairs in front of her desk.

“Miel, I would do anything for you, but can you tell me what’s going on?” Indigo inquired.

Finnegan stepped into her office before sighing and beginning to explain what had happened in the past couple of hours, “There is this boy with a stupid camera, he says he taking pictures of the school and the summer class, but I know he is taking pictures of me! He-he-he’s weird! Asking me questions and following me around! He’s even taking pictures of me and dad just having a conversation! GRAH! I need him to leave me alone!”

Indigo snickered, before Finnegan stared at her with an intense gaze making her clear her throat, “What’s his name bébé,” she asked.

“Bonnie,” Finnegan answered as his snow-white cat familiar nudged his hand for pets, “I don’t know his last name.”

“Bonnie Olsen-Nielsen,” Indigo read aloud looking at the file on said student on her computer, “He’s a senior, he moved here in the spring and started on campus, he is in the media club.”

Finnegan groaned, “Can’t you do something about this Maman?!”

“Miel…”

“Maman!”

“It is odd that he is taking pictures of you, but have you asked him to stop?” she pondered, “and not in your little passive-aggressive way that keeps you from making friends, have you actually asked him to stop?”

Finnegan thought for a moment, “… No…”

“Ask him to stop, and if he doesn’t come back to me.”

“Okay, Maman…”

Finnegan hung his head while leaving Indigo’s office waving goodbye, with his familiar following him, and leaving his mother with a pitiful, “I love you.”

Surprised, that he was able to get off campus without running into Bonnie or feeling his presence taking pictures of him while he walked home. Everything was grand until he reached home and saw that lanky photographer in his parent's yard taking pictures of the plants lining the side of the house.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

Bonnie turned to a look at Finnegan seeing the rage on his face before pointing to the cottage, “You live here?” the senior asked.

“Yes! Why the fuck are you here?!” Finnegan shouted, “What the hell did you do?! Figure out where I live and come to my fucking house?!”

Bonnie looked at him confused before he continued, “my goddess, why won’t leave me alone! Why are you even taken pictures of me anyway!? I get be that interesting a subject to follow me to my own home and continue to take pictures of me!”

“Now hold one—”

Finnegan let out a villainous chuckle, “Oh and the taking pictures of me with my dad! That’s just fucking creepy! I’ve never understood what the obsession with camera is! It’s all so creepy, do you really—”

“I wasn’t taking pictures of you and your dad!” Bonnie exclaimed with a shocked expression.

“Quoi?” Finnegan asked quietly, his face becoming hot as Bonnie welling handed over his camera.

“Take it, look for yourself,” the photographer said before Finnegan took the camera apprehensively, “I was taking pictures of the college’s architecture. You and your father may have been in the photo, but I didn’t take them like that on purpose.”

Finnegan looked through the camera roll seeing the images of the college’s beautiful dark sculpting of Queen Anne architecture, he and his father cut off from the frame, “I do admit my actions are often creepy, and I was taking pictures of you without permission earlier, but I didn’t take picture of you and your father.”

Finnegan sighed, flipping through more of the camera roll and seeing pictures of the plants on the side of the house, “I also didn’t know that you lived here,” Bonnie added, “I was just on my way to see my mom at the church, then here this beautiful house cover in all this foliage, I got all little too excited and just started taking pictures.”

The mage boy sighed sulking over to the pouch steps hanging his and resting his arms vertically against his knees, forehead resting on his forearms like he is praying, “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“I apologize for being creepy,” Bonnie chuckled.

“I’m sorry for calling you creepy,” Finnegan groaned.

Bonnie chuckled again before leaving, “I got attacked.” The mage boy called as the photographer descended the stone path leading up to the cottage.

“Mhm?” Bonnie hummed, looking back at the boy on the porch.

“My grandparents had taken everyone to one of the cabins near the edge of the forest,” Finnegan began before Bonnie approached the porch to listen to the story about to be told, “I don’t remember how but Alex and I got too close to the forest and something reached out of the woods. Papa did save me, but I was already bleeding.”

“Your dad sees rather intimidating; I can’t imagine being that creature that attacked you made it out alive.” Bonnie chuckled, sitting next to Finnegan.

The mage boy let out a laugh, “Believe me, my dad is only intimidating in appearance… unless he has a sword in his hand… or you try to hurt maman.”

Bonnie smiled before handing over his camera once again showing Finnegan a picture of himself and a man with a similar appearance, “My father died in April. I think the reason I am obsessed with photography is because of him,” the senior explained, “He told me: “If you find something beautiful don’t hastate to take a photo,” he said that’s how he met my mom and even though they didn’t stay together long all the pictures he took of her were worth it. So, again, apologize for taking pictures of you without your permission,” Boonie flips through his camera roll before showing Finnegan a picture of the young mage in his weapons class, “but like I said, you are very photogenic.”

Finnegan smiled, his cheeks becoming flushed, “It’s good,” he muttered.

“Can I put it on the school’s website?”

“Sure,” Finnegan shrugged.

“Ya’ know,” Bonnie remarked, standing up from his seat next to Finnegan and looking upon the picture he selected, “You look like a prince like this.”

“What does that make you the court jester?”

Bonnie laughed walking down the stone backward, “Does that mean I’m your court jester?”

“It depends on how you jest,” Finnegan joked.

“Then the next time we shall me I shall aim to entertain,” Bonnie relayed with a bow, “Sweet Prince~”

Finnegan laughed, “Go visit your mom, creep.”

“Until next time, Finnegan.”

“Goodnight Bonnie.”

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rosietrace · 1 year ago

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Nyla Venator

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“Let the arrow guide you, and show you what it means to be a true scout.”

— Nyla Venator

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General Information

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Full Name — Nyla Mielikki Venator

↳ Nyla: A name of Arabic origin, meaning ‘the achiever, the successful one’.

↳ Mielikki: A name of Finnish origin, technically originating from Finnish mythology. Derived from the Finnish ‘Mieli’, which means ‘mind, mood’; While also being the name of the Finnish Goddess of Forests and The Hunt.

↳ Venator: The Latin word for ‘Hunter’.

Japanese ver. — ナイラミエリッキヴェネター

Romaji ver. — Naira Mierikki Venetā

Twisted from: Nyx

❐ — Nyx (Tinkerbell/ティンカーベル)

V/A(日本語): Marina Inoue (井上麻里奈)

↳ voices Yaoyorozu Momo, Boku no Hero Academia

V/A(英語/EN): Rosario Dawson

↳ Voices Nyx, Disney Fairies

Age: 19-20

Birthday: January 30th

Horoscope: Aquarius ♒

Species: Faerie of the Hunt

Height: 170 cm

Hair color: Black

Eye color: Lime Green

Gender/Pronouns: Female, She/They

Sexuality: Bisexual

Dominant hand: Right

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Extra Information

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Homeland: Briar Valley

『 Family:

Father

Mother 』

Dormitory: Pemburu Hutan

School Year: 3rd Year

Class: 3-A(seat no. 15)

Club: Animal Research Society

Best class(es): Physical Education, Animal Research, Animal Care, Navigation

Worst class(es): Prophecy, Ancient Curses

Like(s): Tending/Talking to the animals on campus, long walks, nightly walks, styling her hair, nail art, archery, equestrianism, physical education, rage rooms, gossiping with her friends

Dislike(s): Dancing, injured animals, being called a ‘pushover’, the way Eclair treats Meryl, Sinan /j, badly designed artillery/tactical gear, arguments, ancient curses, being teased, figure skating

Hobbies: Horseback archery, spending time with campus animals, long/nightly walks around Pemburu Hutan or on campus in general, researching extinct animals, artillery design

Talent(s): Artillery design, animal research, animal communication, hunting, archery, silent movements, fast reflexes, signaling, equestrianism, navigation, gaining information

Flaw(s): Hubristic, argumentative, passive-aggressive, easy to upset, cautious, stubborn

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Personality

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Nyla was always a little too ambitious for her own good. At least, that's what everyone else on campus says about her; Always so confident in her skills, never worrying about potential failure at any turn.

Nyla's confidence in her abilities isn't unwarranted, and that can be seen in the way she carries herself. That air of utmost confidence in oneself, calculating each and every detail from the corner of their eye.

But hubris does a lot to a person, and with how ambitious Nyla can get, it's no wonder why many dislike/worry about her because of how confident she is in herself.

Which is ironic, considering how cautious she usually is. Confident in her abilities, yet incredibly distrusting of anyone new she interacts with — for fear(?) that they're not who they want her to think they are.

Arguments are a given with Nyla. She dislikes having them, but that doesn't stop her from wanting to defend herself when the time calls for it. It's honestly astonishing how easy it is to upset her.

That isn't to say she's entirely a pushover! Nyla may have those moments a lot, but at heart, her friends call her a bit of a softie. (Especially around the animals)

She cares deeply for those she truly cares about and is only really protective of them because of her fear of her friends getting hurt.

Nyla knows she isn't perfect, and at the very least, she can see her flaws for what they are and wear them like battle scars.

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Unique Magic: Heart of a Soldier (兵士の心)

⇄ A hereditary ability that grants its user the ability to manifest an enchanted bow and arrow — one invisible in the eyes of those around them, but ever present in the eyes of the user.

↳ However, if the user has a bow on hand with them in a certain situation, they can simply use that, as well.

After firing the arrow at one's chosen target, the user can always know where their ‘target’ is while their Unique Magic is in effect; Using the sound of their heartbeat as a way to properly navigate their location.

⇆ This ability comes at the cost of the user's own heart, however. It will remain in effect for 60-100 minutes (about an hour and 40 minutes, at most) and once that time is up, over-usage of the ability will give the user a significantly slower heartbeat.

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Thoughts on them

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“Dedicated young woman, Nyla is. In a way, she reminds me of her dormitory’s founder, Nox…. I simply hope Miss Venator won't suffer the same Fate.”

— Eclair Hollow, headmistress of Scepter Hall Institute

“I don't understand how anyone can be scared of Nina! She's sweet to me, and even sweeter to the animals! I kinda want her to teach me archery, but I don't think Mama will let me…”

— Meryl Hollow, Eclair's daughter

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Additional Trivia

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✑ Main Theme: Horns by Bryce Fox

✑ Backstory: 『 Heart of a Soldier 』

✑ OC Playlist: 『 TBA 』

༝ㅤ･ㅤ˚ㅤ。ㅤ.ㅤ⋆ㅤ꒷ ↛. ·　° 　↯　⇝

➹ Nyla's a softie for most of, if not all of the animals on SHI’s campus!

↳ She doesn't like openly admitting it, however, and prefers to find a private area to gush about a certain animal.

➹ Batshit terrified of ice skating because of Sinan(@jasdiary). Girlie is holding on for dear life, because she'll be damned if she dies on ice, of all things.

➹ The type to have enough free time to babysit Meryl concerningly often. Seriously, how the hell does this girl have so much free time-?

➹ Shooting a moving target is a piece of cake for Nyla! Sure, some of them could be pretty fast, but she pulls through at the end of it all!

➹ Nyla's parents are members of the Briar Valley Royal Guard. She's always idolized her parents, and aspires to become a Royal Guard just like them one day! (Even if she doesn't hold enough attachment for Queen Maleficia or Malleus outside of natural respect)

➹ Nyla's easily disturbed by the way Headmistress Eclair treats Meryl. She understands that mothers are often protective of their kin — it was like that with her mother — but the way Eclair's so insistent on making sure Meryl never leaves SHI is so odd to Nyla.

↳ Frankly, everyone in SHI thinks that way. Nyla and Sinan are, more or less, probably the only ones who openly admit it.

➹ After Delta(@geminiiviolets) had transferred to NRC, Nyla frequently sent Delta letters so the two of them could catch up every once in a while!

➹ Literally a menace when it comes to gossip. No one knows why or how it came to be, but Nyla is ridiculously good at obtaining information and she uses that talent to get as much gossip as she can 😭

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Appearance

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Nyla's Tags

#nyla venator • #『 nyla 🏹 』

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tellurian-in-aristasia · 8 months ago

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An interesting character in the early days of proto Aristasia is Miss Helen Gilmour, or sometimes known as Miss Helen Baird or Miss Anne Gilmour. She seemed to be a member during their earliest days of the Madrian faith, and seemed to stick with them until the later half of the 1980s. A much more detailed timeline about her activities with the girls from St. Bride's can be found on the Madrian Deanic Resources blog. But, today I find myself thinking about a breif article from 1999, written about her time with the group. No scans of this particular newsclipping have been dug up, but the text version is found archived online:

With her hair pulled back in a bun, her full-skirt and blouse, Helen Gilmour looks every inch a sensible, middle-aged woman. It is hard to believe that she once gave up a promising career to join a cult whose members dressed in Victorian crinolines, and hosted dormitory romps for women dressed as schoolgirls. Now she gives advice on cults to people in the Bradford area.

HELEN GILMOUR was a civil servant in London when she spotted an advert in Private Eye. It was publicising a magazine produced by The Church of the Goddess - linked with a cult known as the Lux Madriana or Light of the Mother, and later known as Rhennes, after the Welsh goddess Rhiannon.

Intrigued, she sent for a copy. "It appealed to something in my imagination. I found it fascinating."

She went to a gathering of cult members. She recalls: "I didn't know what to expect. There were only five of us, but it was a moving ceremony. It had an impact on me. I was 29 and until then the only religious experience I'd had was as a child at the local Methodist church."

To the chagrin of her family, Helen, who lives in Great Horton, left her job with the Ministry of Agriculture and joined the 20-strong group full-time. She was initiated as a Lady of the Temple. She says: "It was like a confirmation and involved a 24-hour fast and all-night vigil."

The group settled in a rambling old house in Ireland, and practised a form of goddess worship based on a female creator and female dominance on earth. Says Helen: "It was an organised form of religion but it was in some respects very disorganised. It was stressful."

She puts this down to the policy to reject modern machinery and technology. "It was supposed to be a traditional, rural farming community, but it didn't work. There was not enough land to run a farm and none of us was competent enough. We had a donkey and poultry and we dug the ground, but we weren't achieving anything.

"People had to appear busy, but had nothing to do. There was a spiritual malaise, a lack of discipline and organisation which ruined the community - it filtered down from the leadership."

Television was banned - Helen still does not own one - and washing was done in old-fashioned dolly tubs. There were no electric lights and they cooked on a range or open fire.

The women wore Victorian crinolines, long cloaks and bonnets, and covered up their faces with veils. And when they opened a holiday "school" for women, offering the chance to re-live schoolgirl romps such as picnics, midnight feasts in the dorm and canings, the Press had a field day. Says Helen; "We needed to raise funds so we advertised the fantasy role-play holiday."

Although disorganised, the cult was strictly hierarchial, with a mistress of the house as boss. There were no overtones of violence or self-destruction which have made other groups, such as the Jonestown and Waco cults, so terrifying.

Helen claims she was not brainwashed, but adds: "There was something sinister at the heart if it. The founder was a remarkable person but was leading a fantasy life - we were living in someone else's fantasy."

Helen left after two years. Now 51, and a secretary at Leeds General Infirmary, she recalls her days in Ireland with affection. "I discovered a freedom, and talents that I didn't know I had."

She is a leading authority on cults and helps others through the Cultline, based at St Joseph's RC Church, Pakington Street, off Manchester Road, Bradford, of which she is an active member.

There are a couple lines I keep thinking about: ""People had to appear busy, but had nothing to do. There was a spiritual malaise, a lack of discipline and organisation which ruined the community - it filtered down from the leadership."" ... "Helen claims she was not brainwashed, but adds: "There was something sinister at the heart if it. The founder was a remarkable person but was leading a fantasy life - we were living in someone else's fantasy."" I keep thinking about the idea that what ruined the community was the lack of organization, and the idea that they were simply living in someone's fantasy, and looking back at all of the things the Aristasian group did, I feel like we can see this clearly. The constant jumping around between ideas, how Aristasia went from a fairly mundane paganism group, to ancient matriarchy, to school-girl roleplay, to Victorian secession, to BDSM heavy vintage fashion, to online roleplaying, to anime and purity culture, and ultimately to Japanese language study. Each one lasting about 5 years or so. But throughout all of these things there *has* been a strong set of religious beliefs that seemed to justify each of these things, no matter how much they contradicted the other incarnations.

#miss helen baird #Miss Helen Gilmour #Founding Mothers of Aristasia #proto aristasia #Aristasia #Rhennish #the silver sisterhood

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merryfortune · 1 year ago

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Selfish Sleepers

Written for FE Flash Fic Friday on Dreamwidth

Prompt: WLW Rare Pairs

Title: Selfish Sleepers

Ship: Nerþuz/Sharena

Fandom: Fire Emblem Heroes

Word Count: 1,381

Rating: T

Tags: Fluff, Literal Sleeping Together, Cuddling & Snuggling, Humour, Sexual References

The Inn’s dormitories were filled to the brim with every amenity a hero could need but there was always someone who was needier than most, believe me, Sharena could tell you a thing or two about that.

Just like the family of three bears from that one fairy tale, everyone had different needs that needed to be accounted for and catered to. Soft pillows, hard pillows, fluffy beds, firm beds. Some liked privacy, some liked total darkness. Others needed a little bit of background noise and others liked some company. Variety was the spice of life and to keep Heroes in tip-top shape, the Order of Heroes did their best to provide so that the Heroes would be regularly well-rested and happy to provide their services.

But some… some Heroes like to push the envelope.

Charlotte, hailing from Nohr, came to mind. She needed her beauty sleep, after all. She was very stringent about her routine of facial masks and other implements of skincare. She had big dreams and she was not content to let them be figments of her sleep.

Hilda from the Officer’s Academy in Fódland was another example, too. She was very much the five more minutes type in the morning, very slow to start anything. Getting her up and dressed could be quite time consuming, no wonder Professor Byleth had whole systems of getting her ready for school.

Then there was Nephenee, who belonged to the Greil Mercenaries, was the complete opposite. Too often she could be found asleep in a haystack or anywhere else, trying not to infringe on anyone or cause inconvenience by being selfish. Telling her she deserved just as much luxury as anyone else was like trying to convince a brick wall of a cause!

But none of those aforementioned Heroes had anything on Nerþuz!

Oh gee…

If it wasn’t one thing with her, it was another. She was a Goddess, after all. She wasn’t used to hearing the word no… But Sharena really wished that she was. She also seemed to operate in a completely different reality to most other folk which otherwise would have been chalked up to her holy origins but there were plenty of other divine and ethereal Heroes who were not as needy as her.

“My pillows need fluffing!”

That was a common complaint and with horns like hers, Sharena was sympathetic. It must be hard having to lug around such equipment, they were always ruining pillows, too.

“I can’t sleep without a lullaby…”

That wasn’t too uncommon of Nerþuz to demand. She and her silly shows and whimsical skits, Nerþuz adored to have some entertainment. Sharena cringed in embarrassment to remember how she had to ask the Land Mother of her aid. At least she was easily amused and it seemed like it came from a good place…? Honestly Sharena had no idea but a few bars of a nursery rhyme and Nerþuz would typically plonk out asleep.

But now Nerþuz had a new one… Something she hadn’t asked for before…

“Sharena, my dear, I need a friend to sleep with.” Nerþuz pined. “I need something small and soft to cuddle and share in my dreams with…” Her tone of voice was sing-song.

“Well, we have a fine selection of stuffed toys, you know.” Sharena chirped. “There’s Mr. Bear the Teddy Bear, or Henry the Horse or-”

“Oh, sweetie, I don’t want a play-pretend friend,” Nerþuz batted her eyelashes at her, “I want you.” Her expression was all too come hither in the dim.

“Wh-Huh?” Sharena blushed.

Nerþuz swept her up into an embrace and Sharena’s face was forcibly nuzzled against Nerþuz’s velvet soft chest. Nerþuz hugged her tightly, much the same way as a child would hug her favourite stuffed toy, all but smothering Sharena with affection as she was stunned by it all.

“Pwease…” Nerþuz begged.

Nerþuz towered over Sharena and held her in a deep embrace, forcing her as close as close could be and Sharena was too useless to struggle as she was drawn into Nerþuz’s atmosphere. She inhaled deep Nerþuz’s unearthly scent and her mind began to whirl. Her perfume was sweet and heavenly, it made Sharena’s mouth water as it warmed her with… all sorts of lewd and lurid thoughts as Nerþuz waited on Sharena’s answer.

One she wasn’t going to get any time soon the more Sharena dithered with her reveries quickly unravelling. Don’t have dirty thoughts about a Goddess, don’t have dirty thoughts about a Goddess! Sharena begged herself but she found the contact of her face to Nerþuz’s breast all too intoxicating. Focus on her negatives, Sharena told herself.

Nerþuz was so childish and immature! She was as old as time and this was how she behaved?! Sharena, a mere nineteen year-old mortal, could hardly believe it but her lips went fuzzy. She could feel the blooms of red pulsate in her cheeks. Sharena was unable to deny Nerþuz this request, too. Just like all her previous ones.

Oh, curse her hospitable and generous nature! Sharena swallowed her pride once more.

“O-Of course, anything for you, Lady Nerþuz.” Sharena replied, stilted and saccharine.

“Aww, and that’s why you're my favourite child of Midgard.” Nerþuz celebrated.

She dragged Sharena to bed and that was that - and made the middle spoon, no less. Nerþuz fell asleep as soon as her head hit her pillow which yes, was sufficiently fluffed by Sharena beforehand and made from goose feather down. Nerþuz’s breath whistled as she curled around Sharena and Sharena was held tight under Nerþuz’s elegant arms and the doona covers of the bed.

(Sharena could only hope that they got plenty of R&R Affinity from this, gee whiz.)

But it wasn’t… uncomfortable to be Nerþuz’s living plushie, Sharena found as she fell asleep. If a little uneasily. Nerþuz was actually quite cute when she slept, from what Sharena could gather whenever she glanced over her shoulder. And thanks to all the - often thankless - prep that she did for the dormitories, with the help of the maids, the bed was pretty comfortable, too.

It was nice and warm. Or, more accurately, Nerþuz made it nice and warm. Her voluptuous figure generated a lot of heat which she was more than happy to share. So, Sharena drifted off herself and had a pretty good dream about warm, spring skies and gardens filled with endless flowers explored by bunny rabbits.

If only it could have lasted forever but all good things must end. Especially when out in the real world, it was just as lovely. The sunshine which came through the curtained window was yellow and charming, a whole day of training and studying was ahead of them and sounded quite energising to Sharena.

Nerþuz still held onto her, her face buried into her back. Her hands were knotted in front of Sharena’s belly, keeping her close but Sharena began to wriggle about.

“C’mon Lady Nerþuz,” Sharena whispered, “wake up…”

“Nooo… five more minutes.” Nerþuz pouted. “You're my toy, I decide when we get up.”

“Aww but we need to get the day started.” Sharena insisted, still squirming despite how Nerþuz snuggled into her in protest.

“Noooooo.” Nerþuz continued to whine.

Nerþuz pulled herself up and on top of Sharena. She was… very heavy, Sharena realised. Of course she was, she was a deity with another form as an enormous and domineering goat but even still. This was a shocking realisation to Sharena as she was pressed into the bed.

“Let’s stay in bed a little longer, please, my darling…?” Nerþuz implored Sharena.

Her voice had dropped several octaves and had taken on a much sharper quality. There was practically a smirk in her voice, Sharena was too submissive to check as Nerþuz toyed with her. Their lower bodies were hidden by the covers of their bedding and for that, Sharena was glad as they were also aligned underneath the soft concealment of the doona.

“S-Sounds good, my lady.” Sharena’s voice cracked as she blushed.

Nerþuz leaned in and slotted her head between Sharena’s neck and shoulders. The closeness made the light peach fuzz on the sides of Sharena’s face stand on end. Nerþuz nuzzled her and kissed her cheek sleepily, her intentions still obscured by her selfish eccentricity - to Sharena at least.

#femslash #fe flash friday #fire emblem heroes #feh #fire emblem #sharena (fire emblem)#Nerþuz (fire emblem)#Nerþuz x Sharena #Sharena x Nerþuz #writing tag #selfish sleepers #that feh 4koma with sharepyon and goat aunt... so cute.... and their canon interactions 🫣🫣🫣#we love non-consensual pet play

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fluffmugger · 11 months ago

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The following night in the dormitory one of the boys from further along the coast shyly tried to put the boy in the next bed inside a wickerwork cage he made in Craft and set fire to him, and the night after that Snoxall, who had the bed by the door and came from a little country out in the forests somewhere, painted himself green and asked for volunteers to have their intestines wound around a tree. On Thursday a small war broke out between those who worshipped the Mother Goddess in her aspect of the Moon and those who worshipped her in her aspect of a huge fat woman with enormous buttocks. After that the masters intervened and explained that religion, while a fine thing, could be taken too far.

-- Terry Pratchett, Pyramids

#the aspect of the moon vs the aspect of the fattest of arses fckn kills me every time

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newsintheshell · 2 years ago

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▶️ SOLO LEVELING: L’ANIME ARRIVERÀ SU CRUNCHYROLL L’INVERNO PROSSIMO!

Diretta da Shunsuke Nakashige (Mother of the Goddess' Dormitory), presso lo studio A-1 PICTURES (86 - Eighty Six, NieR:Automata Ver1.1a), la serie si basa sul popolarissimo webcomic coreano edito qua in Italia da Star Comics.

#solo leveling #anime #serie tv #star comics #crunchyroll #streaming #on demand #simulcast #trailer #sub ita #webtoon #manhwa #news in the shell

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twstchaos · 2 years ago

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Original Character: The Goddess

Introducing: The Goddess!!!

Technical Information

Name: Kore Meraki (Κóρε Μεράκι)

Japanese: コレ・メラカイ

Romaji: Kore Merakai

Nickname(s): Betta* (Floyd), Mademoiselle Bosseuse (Rook)

*Floyd has to specify which “Betta” he is talking to using scientific names: Betta splendens (Vil) or Betta persephone (Kore).

Warning: Contains chapter six spoilers

Biographical Information

Gender: Female

Pronoun: She/Her

Age: 18

Birthday: March 20

Starsign: Pisces

Height: 180cm

Eye Color: Purple

Hair Color: Dark Brown

Homeland: Kingdom of Heroes/Island of Woe

Family: Ourios Meraki (Father), Demetria (Mother), Teleia Meraki (Step-Mother), Khalkeus Argos (Half-Brother), Ergane Meraki (Half-Sister), Enyalius Argos (Half-Brother), Cythereia Drepanum (Sister-in-Law), Cynthia Aigletou (Half-Sister), Phoebus Aigletes (Half-Brother), Poimandres Pleiades (Half-Brother), Lysius Meraki (Half-Brother)

Professional Status

Dorm: Ignihyde

School Year: Third

Class: 3-B (No. 13)

Occupation: Student, Aide to the Heir of the Shroud Household

Club: Board Game Club

Best Subject: Classical Literature and Classics in Art

Fun Facts

Dominant Hand: Right

Favorite Food: Gyro

Least Favorite Food: Olive

Dislikes: Running errands for Idia

Hobby: Tabletop Roleplay Games

Talents: Instantly finding whatever dice she is looking for in her dice sack

Appearance:

Kore has long dark brown hair tied back into a high ponytail, leaving some longer strands of her bangs to neatly frame her face. Before moving to the Island of Woe, she had an olive complexion, but years of living with the Shrouds faded her skin tone which make her freckles and eyebags more noticeable. Her eyes are purple in color. Kore sports a permanent pout from having to do all of the heavy lifting for Idia.

Kore dons the standard Night Raven Academy female uniform, which consists of the black blazer on top of the blue, gold-lined vest designated for students of Ignihyde, and a short black skirt, all without the black and white tie. She ties the Ignihyde armband around her hip. In the dormitory, Kore wears a dark navy blue deep v-neck tank top with the standard bright blue half-vest over her right shoulder and across her torso, navy-blue pants, and black and blue boots. She either drapes the jacket over her shoulders or ties it around her waist.

Personality:

Kore is a very snarky individual, spending years around Idia would do that to a person. Somehow his introvertedness did not rub off on her, helping Ortho drag the Ignihyde dorm leader out of his room. Where Idia is not, Kore will be, running errands for him and generally doing the hard work. Despite her hatred towards doing everything for him, Kore and Idia do get along well, but him making up by buying her dice and gyros does make Kore a tiny bit willing to do it. Speaking of dice, she is the textbook definition of a dice goblin, always showing up to the Board Game Club with a new set of dice. Kore is one of the more competitive members of the Board Game Club, either dishing out challenges or readily accepting them from others.

Background:

(Chapter Six Spoilers)

The Merakis are a prominent family in the Kingdom of Heroes and one of the head families of the Jupiter Conglomerate. The patriarch of the household, Ourios Meraki, sired eight children; the youngest of which is Kore with his ex, Demetria. Her parents split when she was an infant, resulting in her spending her time between the Meraki household in the Kingdom of Heroes and Demetria’s in the Shaftlands.

Growing up, due to business relations, the Merakis and Shrouds had a decent connection with each other. Thus, Kore and Idia were somewhat close as children. However, at the young age of ten, the two would become inseparable. Disaster struck the Shroud family, and as the youngest of eight with zero possibility of ever becoming the head of the Merakis, Ourios handed custody of Kore over to the Shrouds as a companion to their grief-stricken child. She was forced to leave her brothers and sisters behind and live in the Island of Woe.

Kore was there by Idia’s side through all of the failed test runs, supporting his attempt at creating life. She held him as he broke down, and he held her when she missed her siblings too much.

Four years after Idia successfully brought Ortho to life, they both received their letters of admission to Night Raven College. Together with Ortho, Kore and Idia attended the prestigious school and were both placed into Ignihyde. In the crowd stood a certain student of Ignihyde about to embark on his journey as an interning fourth year: Poimandres Pleiades, the youngest son of Ourios Meraki and the older half-brother of Kore. Upon their arrival into the dormitory, Poimandres took it upon himself to welcome his baby sister whom he had not seen in six whole years with open arms. After their reunion at the school, Kore was finally able to reestablish her bond with her older siblings, starting with Poimandres.

Abilities and Unique Magic:

Because of her experience and enjoyment with tabletop roleplay games, Kore is very adept and quick with improvisation and thinking on her feet.

Kore’s Unique Magic is called “Restoration”. Restoration is a purely support-based power, which allows Kore to negate and remove any and all effects from an individual target. Additionally, she can act as a conduit for blot accumulation by siphoning blot from whomever she is in physical contact with and must keep holding on to the person to take in blot. Kore can also redirect the accumulated blot into another target.

Incantation: “Take a rest. Debuff negation. Heal upon my word. Restoration.”

She is twisted from Persephone from Greek Mythology

and Megara from Disney’s Hercules.

More information will come out in the future~

#kore meraki #the goddess #ignihyde #idia shroud #ortho shroud #poimandres pleiades #poimandres belong to twstwhisper #with some major universe divergences from her original post #persephone #meg hercules #twst oc #twisted-ocs #twst spoilers #ch6 spoilers #twst book 6 spoilers #twisted wonderland #disney twst

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funny-anime-face-world · 2 months ago

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Mother of the Goddess` Dormitory (2021) S01 E09 · Sutea Reflects on the Kotatsu - Koushi Tackles Spring Cleaning

#megami ryou no ryoubo kun #mother of the goddess dormitory #女神寮の寮母くん。

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20wipsandimstillbored · 1 month ago

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School has sufficiently kicked my butt <3

Worked so hard I didn't realize the franchise barely finished one anime and dropped two new anime in that same time span but we'll rock anyway (゜∀。)

I have to get this out before I sleep and forget it.

The system really punishes people for being responsible. Like lobotomy patient-type punishment.

So, don't get me wrong; I love anime that have wholesome little filler plots with the MC's(main character's) family that just makes them feel ALIVE.

But there just is NO peace when it comes to my unraveling of this secret B plot to this children's franchise.

So everyone who's watched the 1st season of Pripara knows that Laala is a 6th grader, helps her parents with the restaurant and the "big evil" for the first portion of the season is the headmistress Ookanda who confiscates PriTickets from her female students. And of course the reason, found by 6th grader Laala and Co, is that she used to have dreams of being an idol, but was snubbed by her friend who turned out to be Laala's mother! :0

And yeah it feels like I'm looking too much into filler, but afterwards I noticed that Ookanda even gained her own obsession with being an idol and making up for lost time with her friend. And that should be adorable! >:[

But that singular episode we get just made it so that everything the system did to get Laala more and more integrated into it had no one with a clear enough head to be say "Yeah maybe that's a lot for an 11-year-old."

☆ Having performances everyday? Okay!

☆ Raising a GODDESS from a BABY? Already bought her a crib for our home!

☆ Moving into the dormitories of a DIFFERENT school that the headmistress agreed to move you to so you can spread the word of the GODS? Hell yeah!

And well, yeah I always thought the System had a thumb on every character, but thinking about it just gave my ramblings like 14% more credibility. :D

Whenever the system needs an idol to keep it going, it will do whatever it takes to get and keep one. Kinda like a Venus fly trap.

The same scenario occurs when there's someone responsible or reasonable in the cast. Like Ookanda they'll start off as hesitant or hostile to the idea of kids spending all their time in the Prism World, have some "revelation" and want to support idols any way they can.

Like how Luluna(fav character if you don’t know) got nerfed LIVE because her efforts to slow the A-Train plot went against the system. And now in the (what I thought was more recent T- T) Idol Land Pripara, Shogo, Yui's brother, has to perform continuously with his friends to get enough likes to have THE CHANCE to save his sister from what is essentially a near-permanent, dream-like state.

Love this franchise. And it's stupid B Plot. ( ^-^)ノ∠※。.:*:・'°☆

I'll do a more in depth dive once I get some actual free time and can really set up my Tumblr, but I think blurbs like this can work.(This might be longer than the last lol)

I'll get back on my formatting as soon as I find one. Thanks for reading so far

#pripara #anime #cant sleep #idol land pripara

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rinwellisathing · 6 months ago

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Paint The Lines, Cut The Flesh: Part 13

As they entered the gauntlet, Sentry allowed Shadowheart to take the lead. As a paladin, he understood the importance of a pilgrimage like this and that she would want to prove herself fully to her goddess. He had to admit, her training was impressive. He watched as she easily crept through the darkness to solve the mechanism to open the doors. There was a heavy feeling of being watched, as though Shar herself were also keeping an eye on Shadowheart's progress. The path forward was dark and cold, the familiar smell of death filled the air as the party made their way into the main hall of the ruin. Ancient corpses littered the ground and the silence was all-encompassing. Sentry could have imagined the party were the only ones here, until he set eyes on a group of skeletal figures. Their construction was slap-dash and their gear was ancient. Some necromancer or another scavenging for scraps, he guessed. Still, the clattering creatures approached, holding up their hands as though to prevent the group from venturing forward. “Ugh...Myrkulites...of course there's loads of shoddy skeletons.” Sentry grumbled, narrowing his eyes at the creatures. “You trespass here...” The first skeleton accused in a noise that grated like metal on stone and earned an incredulous glare from Shadowheart, joining Sentry at his side. “No, it is YOU who trespass here in Lady Shar's domain.” She shot back, reaching for her mace. “Stupid worm infested cockheads!” The head skeleton hissed, drawing its own weapons. “Okay, nevermind, they're actually sort of charming.” Sentry chuckled, though quickly drawing his axe as he noticed several portals opening around them. ---

Jaina found she could do little but wander the tower and the balcony while she waited for her friends to come looking for her. She spent most of her time in the library. Ketheric had not left the roof top balcony since they had spoken up there, but he had given her run of the upper floors. Currently she sat on Isobel's old bed reading through some old letters and journals she had found in the library, smiling gently at the picture they painted of the girl who once called this room home. Isobel reminded Jaina of her mother, someone she could easily get along with as she read through story after story of the Selunite. Her eyes paused a moment as she glanced down at a page, reading a description of the day an emissary from The Moonmaiden had arrived in town. A daughter of Selune herself. The young woman's writing reminded her of so many romances she'd read alone in the dormitories at the school, both as a student and as a teacher. The way Isobel described the woman was like a knight in a storybook. 'Her silver armor shone in the light of the sun as she made her way through our town square and all seemed to come out to see the emissary our goddess had sent. Her skin was the porcelain shade of the moon itself and her hair was pale gold as starlight. She was of a powerful build and carried a sword made to cut down any evil that would eclipse her mother's light and in that moment as our eyes met, I knew I loved her.' The tiefling found herself laying across the bed on her stomach and reading intently over the next few pages, looking away only for a moment when a second body put pressure on the bed, the skeletal watchdog peering curiously at the book from beside her.

'Father does not believe Aylin's affections for me are true and he cautions me, but he is wrong. How could our love be false when we both feel it so intensely? Aylin, a daughter of Selune, has knelt before me as though I outshone her. She worships me in ways I cannot even worship my goddess. Such a love could be nothing other than true. Father will come to see that...' “Did you like Isobel's lover, Squire?” Jaina asked absently, patting at the dog's clean white bones. “What kind of a person was she?” The question was more towards herself than the dog, knowing that even when she had previously cast speak with animals, the dog was fairly resistant to small talk or indeed giving her much information at all. “Well, regardless of your opinion, she does sound quite dreamy...And anyway, dogs don't know about these things.” She decided before once more losing herself in the story of the priestess and the paladin. As she read on, a small part of her mind began to wander and imagine Wyll might come to her rescue. A smile slowly crept over her face and she closed her eyes, dreaming of him climbing through a window and tossing her a sword, the two of them fighting side by side and then back to back through The Absolute's forces, making their escape from the tower and pausing only for the kind of deep, intense kiss they only wrote about in story books. She sighed and nodded her head a moment, lost in the fantasy, until, blushing brightly, she shook her head and told herself she was being foolish. Wyll was an intelligent man and a sound strategist, he would never attempt something like that alone, but when she imagined Sentry, Lae'zel, Astarion, Octavia....mostly them, the others could at least operate with some subtlety...well, perhaps not Karlach, but she found Karlach's beautiful smile and strong arms were on her mind nearly as much as Wyll was, so her intrusion into the fantasy would hardly be an intrustion at all, but the other four that came to mind, they'd ruin any sense of romance with their style of combat...and then Sentry would, of course, say or do something unsettling... ----

“It's like I said, shoddy craftsmanship. Myrkulites are just no good at putting things together.” Sentry shook his head with a sigh as the party explored the crypt, the broken bodies of the skeletons scattered among the haunted armor of long dead justiciars who had attacked. “I could care less about some foul mouthed skeletons.” Shadowheart frowned. “I'm more curious as to why my Lady's own faithful would attack me. Is it some kind of test?” She seemed to fret as they approached a crumbling stairwell, stopping only as Halsin threw out an arm to hold Shadowheart and Sentry back, causing Astarion to crash into Sentry's armored back and hiss with complaint. “What in the sweet hells was that for?” He snapped, glaring at the druid. “Yeah, Halsin. I see the drop, I was gonna jump it...” Sentry explained, looking to the taller man for an explanation. Halsin nodded towards a dark figure at the bottom of the broken staircase, staring up at them with bright yellow-green eyes, its fur was so dark it seemed to absorb any light permeating the gloom around it. It regarded them only briefly and then turned to slink down the hall, barbed tentacles swaying from its back. “A displacer beast...” Sentry quirked a brow. “I mean...thanks for the heads up, Halsin, but I'm pretty sure we could've taken it.” The druid furrowed his brow. “And alerted what else in the process?” He chided, giving Sentry a chastising look. “I may dislike the Cambion as much as you do, but I listened well to his rambling and I haven't forgotten what he told us was down here.”

“Right...Orthorn...yeah...” Sentry nodded. “Well, we'd better go find it so we can get this over with and help Astarion. Besides, these 'trials of Shar' will be all the more difficult with him creeping around.” The tiefling hopped down to the lower level and followed in the direction the cat-like creature had gone. The others followed along and soon found themselves in a large open room decorated with bodies in various stages of preservation of decay, some flayed and turned into sculptures, some fully skeletal and made into trinkets, a bed of faces frozen in expressions of terror and pain gazed at the party from an alcove where the displacer beast now sat watching them with a smug sense of satisfaction. “You look lost, little rabbit.” A deep voice boomed from above. The party turned in unison to see standing on a balcony of shattered stone behind them was the hulking figure of the orthorn, his flesh red and bumpy with ridges and prongs, cunning yellow eyes glaring down at them as he trained his crossbow in their direction. “Ugh....rabbit, mouse....don't you devils ever get sick of imagining everything as a prey animal? What if I preferred to be a wolf? Or perhaps a snake? What then?” Sentry folded his arms across his chest. “A wolf would have been smarter than to stumble into my lair and a snake would have done so quietly.” The creature replied, not lowering the crossbow. The bridge of his nose wrinkled a moment and he sniffed the air. “Wait a moment...sulfur...and cherries...You're dealing with Raphael.” His lips twisted in a snarl of rage. “Not willingly, I promise.” Sentry scoffed, rolling his eyes. “But look, tell me something because I'm curious...maybe I'm weighing my options here? What's your history with that smarmy asshole?” “Raphael trapped me here ages ago with his damned contract.” The creature's nostrils flared, rage burning behind his eyes.

Sentry nodded his head, putting on a look of deep thought. “I see...And this contract, can I see it?” He noted the creature's incredulous expression. “Only, I'm a paladin and my friend here is a damned fine magistrate, perhaps we can pick up something you missed.” “Aha...one moment.” Astarion plastered on a large, false smile as he grabbed Sentry by the shoulder and pulled him in close. “What do you think you're doing!?” He hissed, “Just kill him already! Otherwise Raphael won't help me.” “I'm getting to it... I'm getting to it.” Sentry replied out of the corner of his mouth before turning with a huge grin up at the orthorn. “You can't 'see' it.” The orthorn frowned. “He gave it in the form of a song.” Astarion gave Sentry a withering look as if to say 'well now look what you've done' as the hulking devil paused a moment and began to sing, his tone flat and following no particular key to speak of. “Spill all the blood sworn to the night, Silence all prayers; smother each rite, Wander Shar's halls; hungry to slay, Leave no Justiciar alive to obey, Leave none to hear it, then be set free; This song is your oath, swear, swear it to me.” Sentry winced and gave an awkward half-clap. “Well, we won't be seeing you on any grand stages any time soon, but it gets the point across....” Shadowheart nudged Sentry and her eyes flicked towards the company of merregons flanking the party, they had stood silent and at attention the entire time. Sentry raised a brow and looked at her in confusion, just barely catching the sudden twitch of her ears. “Oh! Well, they've got ears, haven't they?” Sentry asked, gesturing to the small army. The devil looked at him, somewhat dumbfounded. “They are merregons, they are made only to follow orders, they don't have a thought between them.” “Thoughts, no, ears, yes.” Sentry insisted. “They've heard the song, and yet they're still here.” The orthorn seemed to ponder this a moment, but could not find fault in the tiefling's logic. He nodded to his soldiers and gave them a gesture and within moments, every single merregon had fallen upon their own blade. “It didn't work...” The creature growled, eyeing Sentry with a warning look. But by now, Sentry understood what Shadowheart had meant and he nodded towards the displacer beast. “Your companion has ears AND a mind to comprehend.” He continued.

“Kill Nessa? But...” The orthorn paused a moment, gazing mournfully at the sleek, shadowy creature. He sighed heavily and leveled his crossbow. “Hold still, my beauty...” As the beast collapsed to the ground, lifeless, he snarled with rage. “And still I remain!” The voice in the back of Sentry's mind solved this quandary, urging the paladin on. “But sir, you've heard the song as well...” The devil's eyes widened and a hollow laugh escaped his throat, his expression a mask of rage. “Of course...that bastard would....” He shook his head and glared down at Sentry. “If this doesn't work either, I will return from the hells and hunt you to the ends of the earth...” He snarled as he drew a dagger and handily disemboweled himself, his body slumping over lifeless as his innards spilled. “Well...that's one way of getting the job done...No need to find Raphael, I suppose...he usually does a good job of finding us first...” Astarion folded his arms, taking in the scene of carnage. “Told you I wouldn't let you down.” Sentry smiled confidently. “You certainly do have a honeyed tongue, Sentry.” Halsin remarked, gazing somewhat uncertainly at the havoc that tongue had wrought. “Shall we look around? He's bound to have had some kind of treasure, maybe a powerful weapon or two?” Sentry suggested. “I mean, waste not, want not and all?” “See, I knew there was a reason I liked you.” Astarion smirked. --- Back at camp, Kroger stole nervous glances towards the corner where Arabella had immediately latched onto the camp's mysterious benefactor. She bombarded Withers with question after question and showed no fear towards the undead being, seeming to regard him as an indulgent grandfather almost.

“I should tell her...I shouldn't keep it to myself, it's cruel to let her hope for so long...”The ghustil frowned to himself, inhaling deeply as he tried to work up the nerve to tell the child what he had seen in the house of healing. After all, there was no leniency or indulgence for githyanki children, they were forced to confront such things far younger and far more viscerally. But no, Kroger remembered those feelings, he remembered being expected to handle so much so young. His upbringing told him it was meant to make him strong, but his instinct as a healer told him he had needed, more than that, deserved tenderness. There was too little tenderness in his world when he was young and too little in this girl's world right now. “Brother?” Kroger was shaken from his thoughts by Octavia's interruption. “Sorry to startle you, it's just the others are returning, I thought you might want to see to any injuries, especially considering how you only just finished treating Mr. Ojeda not too long ago.” She continued before making her way to where Gale was cooking a meal to help him. Kroger nodded. Yes, the distraction he needed. He slowly rose to his feet and met the returning party at the fire. He noted Sentry had a large grin across his face and looked slightly dazed. Pressing a palm over his eyes and inhaling deeply, Kroger braced himself to hear what the group had gotten themselves into. “Well, we came through it mostly unscathed, actually.” Shadowheart assured him. Then her expression fell, nose wrinkled in disgust. “And then Sentry had to taste a dead spider we found and he's been weird ever since.” Kroger sighed and shook his head, approaching Sentry. He produced a small wand of light from his pouch and waved it at differing angles in front of Sentry's eyes, deactivating the spell and putting it away, taking out a small metal rod and looking up at the tiefling. “Open your mouth and stick out your tongue, Mr. Ojeda...”

Once Sentry had been examined and Kroger was satisfied the effects of the strange ingestion were temporary, Sentry joined Astarion at his tent and the familiar scent of sulfur and cherries filled the air. Yugir was right, that really was a disgusting scent, Sentry thought.

“Do you know what happens when a devil is struck down on this charming plane of existence?” The cambion mused, striking his usual self-important pose. “It returns to The Hells. To the very point where it last stood before venturing into whatever Devilforsaken plane it died on...” He gave a chuckle and a nasty little smirk. “In the case of our friend Yugir, the Orthorn you so handily dispatched in the Temple of Shar, he manifested in my House of Hope.” “Uh-huh...None of which has anything to do with us. The deal was kill him, we did that. Now tell Astarion what he wants to know.” Sentry demanded, arms folded across his chest. The tiefling was unimpressed with Raphael's posturing and pretty poetry. He still wasn't sure why, but he had less trust, less tolerance for this man than the rest of the party did. Something scratched and gnawed at the back of his mind that even before the incident with Mol, he had reason to dislike Raphael. “Yes, exactly! We did as you asked, now I want what I'm owed. We had a deal.” Astarion glared at Raphael, impatient and irritated that the cambion would, of course, drag this out as much as possible. Raphael's smirk widened. “Indeed we did. I discovered all there is to know about those scars of yours. Rather a grim tale, even for my own tastes...” “Sure, I'll bet.” Sentry snorted. “You're just trying to frighten him so you get something for nothing.” Astarion nodded. “I don't care how gruesome it is, I need to know.” Though he did for a split second seem a big apprehensive, did Sentry note fear in his eyes? “As you wish...” Raphael chuckled darkly. “ Brace yourself, Astarion! We are about to uncover your destiny.” The cambion gestured grandly. “Carved into that ivory skin of yours is one part of an infernal contract between the archdevil Mephistopheles and your former master, Cazador Szarr.” Sentry grimaced. He was afraid of that. The wording did seem official, though he had chalked that assumption up to his own lack of experience in legal matters and hadn't wanted to hazard a guess and risk being wrong, frightening the other man for no reason. He looked to Astarion, checking to see if he was still alright. The vampire was listening intently.

Raphael continued. “In full, the contract states that Cazador will be granted knowledge of an infernal ritual so vile it has never been performed....” Raphael's expression grew dark and serious as he intoned nearly reverently. “The Rite of Profane Ascension.” Sentry and Astarion looked at one another, Sentry's expression one of concern, saying without words that he was here, that Astarion was safe. Astarion for his part held a look of equal parts fear and fascination. “It promises to be a marvelous ceremony, very elaborate, incredibly ancient, and entirely diabolical.” Raphael smirked, his gaze remaining on his captive audience. “If he completes the rite, he will become a new kind of being-- The Vampire Ascendant!” “And what would that entail?” Sentry raised a brow. “All the strengths of his vampiric form will be amplified, and alongside them, he will enjoy the luxuries of the living.” Raphael replied smugly. “The arousals and appetites of man will return to him, and, unlike Astarion, he will have no need of a parasite to protect him from the sun.” “The catch? I mean, apart from it being Cazador and all...” Sentry asked, impatiently. The nasty gleam in Raphael's eyes grew brighter. “Ah yes, the ritual has a price, as do all things worth while...” He leaned in closer. “ Lord Cazador will need to sacrifice a number of souls, including all of his vampiric spawn if he is to ascend...” The cambion laughed aloud. “Imagine, then, how he felt when one of those spawn simply disappeared into thin air...” “Well, I guess it's not a problem then. He won't be ascending because I will never allow him to lay a hand on Astarion.” Sentry replied, instinctively taking a protective step in front of Astarion.

“Either way, our business has concluded and I have much to do elsewhere.” Raphael smirked, Sentry's protective nature was almost adorable. With a snap of his fingers he disappeared in a cloud of red smoke. Astarion frowned, looking at the ground pensively, his eyes fearful but with intense thought behind them. Sentry reached out to him, not touching, not without permission, but leaving his hand open just inches from his shoulder if he need him. “I meant what I said, that rancid old shit won't touch you ever again.” Sentry assured him. “You've got not just me, but all of us. We're stronger together.” The paladin smiled gently. “Cazador wouldn't let me slip away so easily when I was just another plaything, now I know he'll never stop hunting me....” Astarion replied. “He'll keep coming after me until the end of days...” He inhaled deeply. “The only way I can be safe is to kill him.” Sentry's expression brightened. “You know me, I'm really good at that! I'll be right by your side when the time comes.” Astarion smiled and finally allowed himself to lean into Sentry's touch. “Thank you.”

----- After a night's rest, the party had returned to their explorations of the temple ruins. Several uneventful encounters with skeletons and ghostly justiciars led to a strange room, which Sentry half-way recognized as a necromancer's lab of some sort. Ghouls skulked about tidying and replacing incredients, and a large man in a black robe stood at a table guarded by an even large creature of twisted flesh. “Hmm...Not many True Souls could make it this far...” The man gave a wicked smile in Sentry's direction. “You should be proud.” The man looked so familiar, Sentry was sure he had seen him before, even just in passing. Something about him struck a similar chord to Raphael, that instant visceral dislike. “I am Balthazar, advisor to General Thorm...and since you have made it this far, I can only assume you're here to assist me in aiding him...” The man continued, steepling his large, wormlike fingers.

As he spoke, Sentry's eyes drifted to what seemed to be a specimen shelf and his eyes fell on an odd little bottle. Inside there seemed to swim a brain in a viscous green liquid. The colors were enchanting, so charming together. Sentry's mind swam with ideas, the textures such a brain could make as a painting tool and the tint that greenish liquid could give to the right shade of paint. Or, another sculpture, perhaps one of those creatures he had encountered on the nautiloid. He was barely aware of what the necromancer was proposing. “Yeah, yes...we came to help...um...from Ketheric.” Sentry nodded. “If you want to go over the details further with my companions...” He began to inch towards the shelf, by some miracle, either the necromancer didn't notice or assumed Sentry wouldn't do anything. “Yes, I'll take the details. I'm far better at keeping them in mind, our friend is a bit absent minded.” Shadowheart easily picked up with a cover story, her Sharran training on full display as she pretended to be another agent of General Ketheric here to retrieve his artifact. As the necromancer explained the details to Shadowheart, who nodded along and occasionally asked what could have easily been a pertinent question, Sentry palmed the bottle and slid it into his pack before making his way back over. “Fascinating specimens, really just top notch...and that fleshwork you've got there, did I hear you tell my accomplice he was your brother? Amazing.” Sentry nodded with approval, looking up at the creature. “In part, yes—my unborn twin. Mother always resented me for it, said I strangled him in the womb if you believe such tripe.” The necromancer sneered. “Ah, yeah, I've heard similar, I had a sister once with seven twins...um...I feel like there's a word for that, but anyway, she killed them all too...of course, they had already been born at the time, I think she was twelve years old, as she told me...Still, similar stories.” Did he have a sister like that? Or was it just an old story that popped into his head? For some reason, the beautiful smiling elf from his fractured memories came to mind and he made a mental note that she was probably dangerous.

“At any rate, once I developed my powers, I fetched him from the graveyard, brought him back—gave him a new, better body...” The man sighed and shook his head. “Alas, mother was not pleased...” “That's too bad, you know, sometimes parents just don't understand real artistry. That certainly is phenomenal work on his new body...I hope she eventually understood.” Sentry gave a sympathetic nod. “And how's your mother now?” “Oh, we're still close.” The necromancer grinned wickedly. “She's in that jar on the shelf over there.” He blinked and paused as he noticed the jar was missing, his eyes widening. “This jar?” Sentry asked innocently, producing the one he'd stolen from his pack and holding it up. The necromancer sputtered a moment, reeling with angry. “ What the...!? Give me back my mother this instant!” “But she has so much potential...” Sentry frowed, drawing the jar back to himself, holding it up to his face and gazing through the green liquid at the necromancer.. Shadowheart was hiding a mirthful grin behind her hand and Astarion looked ready to burst out laughing. Halsin looked rather ill. The necromancer cried out and aimed a ray of green energy at Sentry, who quickly leapt out of the way. “Damn! And here I thought you were a fellow artist!”

----- Octavia frowned. Usually Gale would be starting to cook by now, but there was no fire prepared and the smell of food was uncharacteristically absent from the camp. She looked around for any sign of him, and finding none, she approached his tent, coming face to face with a shimmering simulacrum instead.

“Greetings! I am here on behalf of Gale of Waterdeep, he wishes you to join him at another location, I can take you there when you are ready.” The figured beamed. “Oh...um...yes, I'm ready.” Octavia nodded and took the figure's hand, finding herself in a clearing beneath a sky full of brilliant stars. Gale sat not far from where she had arrived and she walked over to join him, sitting beside him and smiling. “What a beautiful place!” She beamed. “You imagined all of it?” She breathed, gazing in awe at the stars. Somewhere far beyond them was her home. “Yes....having time to contemplate one's mortality will often make a person sentimental...” Gale nodded, leaning back. “I...I wanted to thank you for traveling with me, for all you've done...” “Of course! For a charming man like you? Anyone would have.” Octavia beamed, joining Gale in reclining a bit more. “Gods, this is such a perfect night...is it one you remember distinctly or just what you might imagine one to look like?” She continued. Gale gave her a small, sad smile. “I've spent much of my time absorbed in study and entwined in the weave itself, so I must confess this is put together from what I've read and from what I've seen on our journey.” Octavia nodded gently, her fingertips softly brushing his hand. “Then you are a powerful wizard indeed to conjure this from imagination.” “You could as well, Octavia. The power and potential you've shown while we've traveled together, the brilliant mind you possess....” He began and then sighed. “You make me wish I had more time...” He shook his head. Octavia gripped his hand, squeezing it tightly, she frowned a bit. “And you don't because Mystra decrees it?” She looked up at him with those wide, eloquent eyes.

Gods, she was giving him the reproachful look Tara gave him so often, usually when he was doing something foolish. “It's the only way to defeat The Absolute....” “Is it?” Octavia cocked her head to one side curiously, “Because did Mystra not also decree that her followers, and especially her chosen should preserve magic in all its forms?” Gale opened his mouth to respond, but Octavia held up a hand. “Why then are you being punished for trying to do just that, Gale Dekarios?” Gale thought a moment, lowering his head and exhaling deeply. “Let's...let's not talk about that just now...I actually brought you here because I wanted to confess something...” He took both of Octavia's hands in his, his deep brown eyes meeting her bright lizard-like blue eyes. “I love you, Octavia of Creche K'liir...and I wanted to spend just one night with you before...before the end.” Octavia blushed, smiling softly. “Oh Gale...There were signs, certainly, but I have made errors before, so I said nothing, but...” She pressed her forehead to his. Her skin was smooth and cool to the touch. “I love you too...and though it doesn't seem it now, there will not BE an end, not so soon...but you're right, for now let's simply enjoy one another's company.” The world around them faded and reformed, a beautiful, cozy study taking the place of the quiet glade. Octavia's face lit up as she gazed around in awe. A real wizard's tower! She had only seen them in books or a few lesser ones once or twice when a curious fellow mage would invite her to share knowledge and a meal. Gale's was beyond all of them, however, books lined every wall and more still were stacked on desks, comfortable chairs, ornate statues, and even out on the sun drenched balcony which overlooked a beautiful harbor. “I could stay in this place forever....” Octavia breathed, leaning against the balcony rail and gazing out at the sky. She smiled, pressing her body to his as Gale slid an arm around her waist and leaned in close.

“There's more I can show you, if you like....wonders of the weave itself that even few wizards experience....” He smiled gently. “Then show me. I'm eager to learn.” Octavia gave a coy, playful smile. “And don't be shy, I have loved before, even if never in the way you're suggesting...I like to try new things.” ---- “You know, my memory isn't all that great, but when I became a paladin I don't think I had to jump through nearly as many hoops.” Sentry groaned as the party picked their way over the fallen undead justiciars and made their way into the library's vault to retrieve the sacred weapon which was said to lie within. “Well, that's simply because Ilmater is not as discerning as my lady.” Shadowheart replied, placing the correct book on the pedestal and standing before the massive golden embossed door, waiting as it lowered and stepping in to claim her price. The magnificent spear glimmered before her along with a set of beautifully crafted armor and she breathed deeply as her trembling fingers brushed the shaft of the weapon. Sentry rolled his eyes. “Pretty rude for someone who still needs me to cover them in battle.” The tiefling murmured. He glanced at the weapon and whistled. “That IS a pretty fine weapon, though...the blade looks particularly nasty...” “If all the pomp and circumstance is through with can we PLEASE find this Nightsong and get out of here? I'm all for the whole gloomy crypt look, but even I'm getting tired of this place.” Astarion whined, folding his arms across his chest like a petulant child.

“Far be it for me to complain, but this place truly is far from welcoming.” Halsin added. “We're almost through, I can feel it. My destiny awaits.” Shadowheart took a deep breath as the party made their way back up to continue on. After making use of the strange glowing baubles they'd found in each tedious trial, they crossed the black expanse on another floating platform. Sentry marveled at the statues they passed. Not his preferred medium at all, but he recognized the craftsmanship that went into depicting the goddess of night and every painstaking detail of her elaborate garb and beautiful yet cruel face. They made their way through a final door and into what appeared to be an ancient baptismal bath. The silence was oppressive, but still Shadowheart went to her knees in the water and began to pray. Astarion rolled his eyes impatiently, but Sentry and Halsin both gave him a look which plainly said 'this is important, do not interrupt her.' Sentry understood all too well communion with one's god, and though he wasn't sure he'd ever heard Ilmater's voice, he was well aware the anger he'd feel if he was disrupted while speaking to Commander Ojeda's spirit. Finally, Shadowheart rose to her feet and inclined her head. “Thank you for your patience. We'll press onward now...” And the party ventured forward into the water, slowly sinking, the darkness enveloping them until they emerged on the other side into what felt like a tempest. Shadowheart led the way over the craggy terrain and across the daunting gaps in space. Spirits of past justiciar hopefuls whispered their wisdom on all sides and the storm grew louder. Finally, the party alighted on the final platform, where a pale woman in rags, her body struck through with gold scars, struggled against phantasmal bindings.

“Another would-be Justiciar come to seek the praise of your wicked goddess, come to drive a dagger through my heart...” She woman spat, pacing the floor and glaring at Shadowheart as she regarded her distrustfully. “Not a dagger, a spear.” Shadowheart replied forcefully, hefting the beautiful weapon she had acquired. “My Lady Shar's spear!” Shadowheart turned to Sentry and looked intensely up into his eyes. “Her fate is mine to seal, let me handle this!” The woman shook her head and frowned. “The fate you seal is your own, to be a Dark Justiciar is to turn your heart from everything but loss. You will know no love, no joy, only servitude.” Sentry felt a gnawing in the pit of his stomach at those words. The love he couldn't remember, the sharp jolts of pain throughout his entire body while he saw only red agony, the compulsions that tormented him, the nagging voice in his mind urging him towards evil. He felt a chill through his body, but he took a deep breath. This was Shadowheart's choice, whether he liked it or not. “Until your mistress inevitably discards you...” The woman continued, her expression softening, her eyes held a look of truth to them, she did not seem to care about saving her own skin, only warning Shadowheart away from this awful fate. “And there is much she does not tell you-- a terrible blood price which may extend beyond my own death...” Sentry looked to Shadowheart uncertainly. There was hesitation, she didn't seem certain anymore. Behind that look of determination, there was doubt. If she did this, Sentry worried for her, what her future would be. He had felt this worry before, he realized, though the memory of who it was for was shrouded. He reached out to her. The woman was eyeing Sentry curiously, clearly it was obvious to her that he was not a Sharran, but she seemed to hold no expectation that he would intervene, only that his presence here meant something was very different than the trials of justiciars past.

Sentry inhaled deeply and placed a hand on Shadowheart's shoulder. “I trust your judgment, Shadowheart, I know you'll do what's right.” The half-elf paused a moment, gripping the spear tightly in trembling hands and squeezing her eyes shut tightly. She bit her lip as though fighting back a thought clawing at her mind and for one awful moment, Sentry's own mind raced with excitement, eager to see celestial blood spilled, but he forced it down, no, he didn't want this. But it was Shadowheart's choice....And as he waited with bated breath, he saw his trust was well founded. “...for I know you, a lost child frightened by wolves in the dark...” Shadowheart gasped. “What did you say?” “Much has been promised to you, but what do you know of your own heart, of your own life?” The woman asked. She gazed at Shadowheart, pale grey eyes locking with bright green. “I sense more in you than you know...” The spear flew over the edge of the platform as Shadowheart hurled it into the abyss below them, breathing heavily, eyes wide as it dawned on her that she had betrayed Shar. She had failed her goddess. Sentry offered her am arm for support. “I can't belief I just did that...defied Lady Shar....she will disown me...” Shadowheart murmured, still trembling. “What will happen to me?” “Not what will happen, what will you do...” The Nightsong corrected her gently. “Your past is not yet lost and your future is not yet fixed.” She explained. She knelt before Shadowheart, even going as far as to bow her head in trust to the girl who might have killed her. “Lay a hand on me in friendship, not-quite-Sharran, and I will fight that battle that has awaited me this last century. And then, oh then, we shall have much to discuss.”

Sentry took a step back, allowing the two their space, and he kept watch beside Astarion and Halsin as Shadowheart hesitantly approached, laying her hand on the woman's shoulder. The air around them grew cleary, the darkness abating even if only a little. It felt as though strains of reverent song rang out through The Shadowfell as the woman's fist connected brutally with the ground in rhythmic succession and her rags were transformed in glimmering armor the color of pure moonlight and inlaid with blue gems and glass. A beautiful sword appeared in her hands and pristine golden wings extended from her shoulders. Shadowheart gazed in disbelief at the figure before her and Sentry was unable to hide his awe as a fellow paladin. She was a creature of legend, a true being of light. And with one final glance down at her rescuers, she inclined her head gracefully and flew off at great speed from her prison. A shimmering portal appeared in her stead and the party made their way towards it. “You know, I'm kind of surprised Shar is this quiet about being defied, I'd always heard what a jealous goddess she was.” Sentry mused as his eyes darted around the relatively unchanged domain. “Still, I guess better safe than sorry, we should probably leave.” “A fair point...I shudder to think what's in store for me..” Shadowheart whispered, gazing fearfully behind her as the party left the Shadowfell.

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