#neph speaks

[woniehugs]

I NEED SOMEONE TO WRITE A FIC WITH JAKE BASED ON THIS SONG BC WHEN I HEARD HIM PLAY IT ON LIVE, I WAS HOWLING

I DEADASS NEED TO KNOW HIS PLAYLIST BC WE THE SAME FRFR, LOVE YOU FOR THAT JAKE

ALSO, FUCK HYBE‼️‼️‼️

[starcunin]

wait the new patch came out? does that mean i can use mods on ps5 yet?

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

i am once again debating changing estrel's name and title

[val-of-the-north]

Alberich Headcanons

Ok, starting from a headcanon I have had since I saw his face data, and one I've infected my friends with lol: He is the son of Gideon Ofnir and his study of thorn sorcery was actually encouraged and supported by him at some point. Once he learned all that he could from it though, he stopped caring about his son's pursuits, letting him know time and time again that it would be leading him to a dead end. This made Alberich really upset at him, because he thought his father didn't see the bigger picture and especially HIS worth as an asset. So yeah daddy issues... Gideon tends to do that to people apparently. It doesn't help that he really didn't step in to help his son when people made fun of him and his practices. Heck, the biggest perpetrator was Ensha, who was basically his sidekick. (My friend @katyspersonal explains this one here lol [X]) This is how little he ended up caring...

Gideon DID teach him good manners though, so at least, he did something good for his development. In fact, his politeness is the only thing he clings to sanity with. He could have been in the presence of someone he wanted to kill real badly, but his brain would instantly switch to "acceptable" mode and he would pretend to not be hurt or phased. He bows down to anyone, kisses the hand of a lady, offers people favors and tea and what have you. But while he is really capable of acting polite, in his head he is probably shifting around several topics at once, even contradicting ones, and the mask might slowly crack the more you interact with him. He starts relatively normal and even pleasant and devolves from there. However once you give him reasons to snap, he will snap, spilling everything he thinks and even getting physical or violent. In recent years he has fully lost his mind, so he attacks anyone who approaches the lower part of the Roundtable. Despite that, he still can't shake off his polite attitude fully.

In spite of his violence and having no qualms with murder and sacrifices, he is also deeply attached to the concept of repentance. He will kill you if you wrong him, but killing is wrong to him, no matter what, so he will punish himself for any misdeed or sacrifice. Repentance and punishment is a key part of the reason sinners are able to see the Blood Star and Red Glintstone, so he performs self-flagellation with the use of thorn sorcery, kinda like what's implied the Fire Prelates do to bolster religious fervor/encouragement by making thorny whips in the style of the briars of sin. This is how his experiments led him to start growing Red Glintstone on his head. He sins and punishes himself, and will do this for as long as he needs to really understand the profane world only repenting sinners discover. He is pretty much insane in that regard lol

He still wishes his father will crawl back to him once he really discovers the true potential of this form of sorcery... it's no surprise then that he actually REALLY hates Nepheli and thinks she took HIS spot. He hates her so much, even though he'd probably like her as a person under normal circumstances. They have personally never interacted, and Nepheli only knows Alberich from stories she has been told... she actually feels really sorry for his fall from grace. His heresy goes against her beliefs as a warrior, but she'd actually respect his willingness to punish himself for doing what he does... though personally, she'd still rather he didn't do it in the first place, as it still sullies his honor and very soul, at least according to her.

He is incredibly lonely and yearns for someone to keep him company and understand him, someone that might indulge in his insanity and rituals. He's had no luck, and most other thorn sorcerers aren't really interested in the way Alberich pursues his goals. They are just suffering from their sins, they don't need to know anything else... besides, they are always accompanied by the Fire Monks who act as their wardens, so it's not as if they can leave anyways. He has had a few chats with Rogier, seeing as they are both heretical sorcerers, though the latter knows very well not to jump down where Alberich resides, despite the numerous invitations of his "friend" from below… it's unclear if Alberich would actually hurt him if he jumped down. Even the man himself doesn't know what he'd do. He still desperately hopes to find a kindred spirit that would understand his need of sacrificing and punishing himself... also his taste for blood.

He is kind of addicted to that stuff and sees it as the most intimate way to get close to someone... to consume each other's blood is a divine experience in his eyes... You'd think that he'd be attracted to Mohg's blood covenant then, but he actually despises them with fervor. They revel in violence and corruption, completely skipping the part where they repent for their misdeeds. They are barbarians to him, their blood formless and teeming with insects and filth, while his is pure and solid, taking the form of thorns and gems. That's the true form of power through blood, not their cessblood. To him, the Mohgwyn Dynasty is a bunch of charlatans and lunatics. (something something pot calling the kettle black lmao)

He also thinks Raya Lucaria is ran by ignorant fools. He cannot even step in because of their aversion to his abhorrent sorcery. He, like Sellen, is permanently banned... but unlike Sellen he was never even there to begin with. This is how much they hate the dude ahah, but he hates them right back. Speaking of Sellen, She and Alberich might actually get along. She doesn't seem like the type to judge and might even enjoy the dedication that brought him to grow glintstone on his head like the old masters Azur and Lusat. They also both hate those idiot followers of the Lord of Blood, so yeah, they'd be friends ahah. Sadly though, they only know of each other in passing and neither ever looked into the other since they are doing different pursuits.

And while I gave Kat the ugly with my "Alberich is Gideon's son" headcanon, she gave ME the ugly with her "Alberich is trans" headcanon ahahah. The fact the Academy closes its doors to him means he can't do the rebirthing ritual that Rennala offers and that might have actually pissed him off quite a bit. Though there are still methods for him to appear masculine without the full rebirth process. Still, it must be incredibly annoying to be denied that by a group of people that you despise. (Also, just to clarify, I don't think the jeering tongues that brought him to madness included transphobia ahahah. I assume no one freaking cares in a world like Elden Ring's)

So yeah, here's my headcanons on him. I love this guy, he is such a creecher...

[your-pronouns-are-cool]

nephrite/neph here again 3rd time 🥲

can I have one check for he/him and one for he/they/vamp?

using he/him recently has made me incredibly happy, I'm considering removing she/her from my pronouns altogether!

Ask many times as you need! There's no limit to self-explanation💖💕✨️

He/him

Have you met Neph?

Well, his name is Nephrite, I just love his nickname♡ Someone else did his pronoun checks before, so I don't know much about him, but he seems really cool!

I hope he's taking good care of himself, and staying hydrated♡

He/they/vamp

Have you met Neph?

They are such a interesting individual, he also goes by Nephrite! I just love vampire nickname so much!

I hope he's been having a good time and that vamp's been taken care of themself. I would love to get to know him more.

[mac-tirs]

the usage of different types of english in elden ring

most human/tarnished NPCs we meet, like rogier, ansbach, and nepheli, use late modern english:

"a sorcerer, as you might have guessed. i'm looking for a little something, here in the castle. when i'm not hotfooting it from the troops, that is." - rogier, first meeting "general radahn. a pleasure to see you, after all this time. but those remains do not belong to you." - ansbach, upon summon for PCR

but older demigods like messmer, ranni, and morgott use early modern english:

"thou'rt tarnished, it seemeth. mother, wouldst thou truly lordship sanction, in one so bereft of light? yet… my purpose standeth unchanged." - messmer, pre-battle cutscene "thou needst not indulge them unduly, but they too wish to appraise thy worth. it hath been a passing long time since a newcomer entered my service, after all." - ranni, after agreeing to serve her

then there are the younger demigods, like miquella, malenia, and potentially melina, who use a later variant of modern english, similar to the tarnished NPCs we speak to:

"if we honour our part of the vow, promise me you'll be my consort. i'll make the world a gentler place." - miquella, post-PCR cutscene "the scarlet bloom flowers once more. you will witness true horror. now, rot!" - malenia, phase 2 transition cutscene

finally, the hornsent NPCs like the hornsent, hornsent grandam, and the hornsent spirits such as the one outside the whipping hut, who use late middle english similar to the english found in shakespeare's sonnets:

"fie, another? ... then, as that woman would surely say, we are in our purposes well aligned. but understand. your kind are not forgiven. the erdtree is my people's enemy. by marika long betray'd, set aflame." - hornsent, first meeting "all your resentment lingers yet... the raw stuff from which i shall surely forge a curse. upon the dastard messmer's head. upon marika's children each and all." - scorched ruins hornsent spirit

i find it interesting how different the usage of english is in the game, and i feel that it can be a hint on how to properly date an individual's occupation in the lands between/land of shadow. the hornsent, being a people much older than many in the lands between, use the most archaic version of english, while the tarnished and younger demigods use a form of english more closely related to our own in the current period. older demigods (and marika herself, as heard from melina's recounts of marika's spoken echoes) use a form of english more closely related to the period of transition from middle english to early modern english.

additionally, another interesting thing to me: mohg is almost certainly nearly the same age as morgott (since they're referred to as twins), yet he speaks a little differently compared to morgott:

"tarnished, thou'rt but a fool." - morgott, post-battle dialogue "dearest miquella. you must abide alone a while." - mohg, pre-battle cutscene

this makes me wonder if it's possible that, assuming that miquella's verbiage is indicative of his younger age in comparison to the older demigods (aka the demigods born before the marika/radagon union), miquella's charm altered mohg's perception enough to also alter his manner of speaking and carrying himself in some way. if his pursuit of finery (dressing in embroidered robes and handling himself with poise, juxtaposing his bestial growls and strength) was mainly done in an effort to fit into miquella's ideal of a consort. of course, mohg could just be as vain as he seems to be all on his own accord, but i find that it's interesting to entertain the idea that even his current state of being was due to miquella's charm.

i'd love to hear what others think about this. i'm not very learned when it comes to english (it's not really my first language), but i find this all very cool to think about.

[shay-creates]

*flails* What if Neph finds their birth mom and she asks to see the women who became their adopted mothers in order to thank them for raising her child in her absence! Like.... :D

[mysticwiki]

oughhhh not only did i fucked up Rya’s quest early on because i was too eager to fight Rykard and didn’t seek her out first, but i also fucked up Nepheli’s quest because i was too eager to burn down the erdtree!!! why didn’t i backtrack beforehand!!!!!

[neflil]

I saw a cool board today at the skate shop and i *had* to draw the Prisoner skateboarding

Doodle thread more below ::) vv

Said cool board and more pris

TIME BUDDIES!!!!!!!! I SWEAR ILL EVENTUALLY MAKE SOMETHING BEAR WITH ME

eepy eepy neph because I am tired. Neph just likes sleeping a lot, often in random places, fully clothed, with their bag. The eepness is too great </3 speaking of which it's 4am at the time of posting this, so goodnight !

[tarnishedinquirer]

Person of Interest: Nepheli Loux

Name: Nepheli Loux Title/Alias: Hero, Warrior Race: Badlander Gender: Female Occupation: Adventurer Affiliation: Unknown Badlands tribe, her father. Notes:

Possible relation to Horah Loux, a semi-mythical warrior who the voice told me is actually here.

Who is the father she mentioned?

Holds great respect for the Banished Knights

Possibly affiliated with the Red Banished Knights.

Can speak to the winds of Stormveil

Gideon Ofnir's adopted daughter

She respects him, but he does not respect her in the slightest.

[woniehugs]

enhypen’s en-drama lowkey reminds me of 7 first dates and i hate to admit that i like it 😭

[starcunin]

*slides back onto the dash after months of being absent* oh, hello. I’m alive :) I’ve had some more time recently and I think I’ve finally recovered from months of burnout. I can’t stop thinking about how much I loved writing Astarion and how much I’ve missed being here! So consider this blog officially active again! Well, semi-active. To avoid burnout, I’m going to limit my activity, maybe a few times a week. I’m also going to be deleting all of my current drafts and asks, for a fresh start. Feel free to message me either here or discord if you still have it if you want to start anything new up with Astarion. I might be slow while I get things situated.

[darkseraphscorner]

Seraph steps from his quarters, marching down into the forges, a light in his eyes.

Argus tries to keep up. "What is required me lord," she asks him as he makes his way to the main smeltery.

"My dear, I plan to do something risky, something bold, something new... In theory, all angels have the gift of life, so as God plans to bring all of creation down around our ears, I will craft a new life."

Argus looks stunned. "But sir, have... Have you not already pushed Gods boundaries enough with Lilith? You dare to go Futher?"

Seraph nods as he commands his lesser angels to construct a mold, quickly they work, building something vaugely humanoid shaped as they bring over molten angelic steel in the thick crucible.

Seraph watches, the light reflecting off his glasses. "Maybe it is because if Lilith, but my mind burns with new ideas, new thoughts, I wish to express my self in ways I never thought of before." He speaks as the molten ore is poured into the mold, sparks and stray droplets rising up before dancing at their feet.

Holding out his hand, he warps time, cooling the contents of the mold before fetching his hammer and striking, cracks zig zaging across its surface as the shell fell away to reveal a six and a half foot tall naked woman, cast in the silver of heavens finest steel.

"Now for the tricky part." Seraph approach it, heat still radiating from it, he draws a dagger along his right palm and presses it to the statues chest, speaking world's as old as the earth itself, breathing life into his creation.

With a flash if light, where the statue stood was now a woman, her skin baring a faint metallic shean, black shoulder length hair hung from her head and blue eyes squinted around. "I... I can not see right." She says, uttering her first words.

Seraph chuckled. "Made of my blood, so like I you have poor eyesight... But welcome to heaven, my Neph."

The woman looked down at him, squinting. "I am.... Neph... You are my... Father?"

Seraph clapped her back. "Indeed, but come, we must get you clothes, glasses and tell you of your purpose."

"My purpose... Is to fight." Neph says slowly, still getting used to talking.

"We will see about that, Argus, help me?"

His second in command snaps to, looking on Neph with curiosity... Seraph had crafted life... But with out the permission of God, there was definitely going to be fall out... Unless God was to busy planing the end of the world.

[nightingale-fic-recs]

By the Grace Of [Sorcerer Rogier x Fem!Tarnished] - Chapter Thirteen

Summary: The Lands Between are filled with horror upon horror. Delia rushes from one tragedy to the next, until she reaches the one she’s not sure she can take- the price for Rogier’s life.

Author’s Notes: Holy crap, y’all, 5.2K words on this one. And to think, this is a chapter I was worried about making a decent word count for. But I love pain, so it ended up being no problem at all. 😏 Please let me know if I break y’all’s hearts as much as my own!

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or events from Elden Ring

Warnings: character deaths (yes, plural), canon-typical violence, abstract horror? I think? Unedited (basically), unfinished story- read at your own risk!

It was a fitful night’s rest, for both of them. 

Rogier mumbled and murmured, groaning and thrashing, but never waking. He was feverish and shaky. Delia spoke softly to him until he calmed, dozing until it all began again.

When she rose, she felt just as exhausted as she had the night before. She saw a scrap of parchment on the bedside table that she hadn’t noticed the night before. It was a letter, written in Rogier’s trembling hand. 

“I forgot to tell you, but it seems D has a younger brother. I heard he lies in a deep sleep in the aqueduct beside the Eternal City of Nokron. And it’s said he stood before the Prince of Death not far beyond that spot.” She clutched the page to herself, tucking it into her shirt. She pulled on her armor, startling as something clinked softly to the floor. 

Seluvis’s potion rolled across the floor, coming to rest against the bedpost. Delia picked it up with a shaking hand, turning the vial over slowly. 

Could it stop…?

No. 

She’d seen the puppet’s bodies in Seluvis’s basement chamber. 

But… she wasn’t Seluvis. 

She looked back to Rogier, murmuring unintelligibly as he slept. Besides the movement of his lips, he was still as a stone. 

She gently lifted the blanket from his legs. The roots had grown higher, wrapping themselves through and around his thighs. She swallowed hard. 

She was running out of time. 

She might already be too late. 

She steeled herself, raising her travel medallion. 

It was time for some answers. 

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

“So, you had Nepheli drink the potion? Truly? 
Hmm. Then perhaps something was amiss with it.
It's concocted from the finest ingredients. But perhaps I should review the recipe.” Delia was opening her mouth to make half hearted, sympathetic noises when Seluvis went on. “I may have expected too much of her, to begin with.” She snapped her mouth shut, incensed. She had to take a deep breath and push down her anger before speaking.

“What exactly was this potion meant to do?”

Seluvis waved a hand absently, turning to his spellbooks. “Never you mind, it would be far above your understanding.

Delia couldn’t bite her tongue before the words came out. “Really? And I suppose this potion has nothing to do with the puppets in your chambers near Ranni’s tower?”

Seluvis stiffened, turning slowly. The metal mask he wore hid his expression, but Delia could hear the rage in the breath he sucked in.

“You break into a man’s private chambers, rooting about as you please?”

“That’s right.” She stepped closer, lacing her voice with as much venom as she could summon. “And now that I know your little secret, you’ll answer my questions. Unless you share the opinion that my lady would find those chambers… intriguing.” Seluvis flinched, and Delia felt a shot of triumph race up her spine.

“What is it that you wish to know?” Seluvis ground out.

“Does the potion cause harm?” “Physical? No.”

“Does it cause any lasting damage of any kind?”

She could hear the sneer in his voice when he answered. “No.”

She fought to keep her voice steady. “And the body. It remains… it stays… would this keep it from being…” Her voice had begun to shake. She sensed the moment Seluvis scented the weakness in her.

“The body remains in stasis, pristine. Immune to the effects of the world around it. It can be used to fight for you, for menial labor, or to run your errands. Or,” and here, his voice filled with a lecherous glee. “You can use it for more… intimate-”

“No,” Delia hissed. “All I need to know is that it can stop the spread of Death, and that the person can be freed.”

“Death?” There was real shock in Seluvis’s voice. He studied her for a long, tense moment. He spoke slowly. “I see no reason that it can’t. And a person can be freed.” He paused for dramatic effect. Delia straightened, scowling threateningly. “Yes, I’m sure it would work. Although I would need a potion of a… stronger caliber.”

“A stronger caliber?” she snapped.

“I will need to… test a recipe. Come back tomorrow.”

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“Let’s just say that I have a… scheme, if you will. I would much prefer that it not cross Lady Ranni’s path. And this shall be a most interesting experiment, indeed.”

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

Getting the promised information from Seluvis took much longer than Delia would have liked. But she got it, and set out across Limgrave to speak to this Sellen. 

She startled when she laid eyes on the sorceress. 

“Well, well… Seluvis is not a name I ever wanted to hear again…”

Delia had recognized her from Seluvis’s basement chambers. She had anxiously asked if his potioncraft could be trusted. Sellen had assured her that they could. 

“Just beware the cost.”

Now Delia was riding hard back to the Mistwood, anxious to tell Blaidd what the sorceress had said.

“If General Radahn were to die, the stars would resume their movement. And so, too, would Ranni's destiny.”

All they had to do was kill a god.

Blaidd was eager to move forward, pacing away even as Delia finished speaking. “You’re coming too, right? To Radahn’s festivities… I’ll meet you at Redmane Castle in Caelid. The way ahead is pleasingly simple. We fight, sword and fang.”

“I’ll meet you there,” said Delia. “I just have to make one stop first.”

Blaidd gave her an odd look, measuring.

She could feel herself crack under his scrutiny. “Then I’ll see you there soon.”

He let the matter lie.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

“Good, I've been waiting for you. It's finally complete. The perfection of my draught, gleaming nectar-sweet.” Seluvis held out a vial of amber liquid that seemed to glow softly. “Give this to your… friend.” Delia bristled. “It should keep him docile.” “I only want it to keep him alive,” growled Delia.

“Yes, yes. As you’ve said. Although if you do change your mind, your secret will be safe with me.”

Delia clenched her fists, nearly crushing the potion before releasing her grip. She put it carefully away, turning before she killed Seluvis where he stood.

“You’ll need this bell, if you wish to summon him.”

“I don’t.”

“You’ll need it all the same. If it breaks, well… it wouldn’t be pretty.”

She needed him. Just for a little while longer.

She snatched the bell from Seluvis’s outstretched hand, grimacing as she cradled it in her palm.

That didn’t mean she had to like him.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

Delia didn’t want to administer the potion. It still made her feel ill at ease. So, rather than make straight for her room, she sought out D. 

“D, can you help me?”

He inclined his head. Delia reached into her pack, withdrawing the dagger. She’d wrapped it in an old piece of cloth, but the moment the blade was revealed, D’s posture, impossibly, straightened. 

"Well, what have we here? How did you get your hands on that dagger?”

Delia paused, unsure whether she should reveal Fia’s name. D seemed to sense her hesitation. “...Well. That hardly matters. I know very well whose dagger it is. Why don't I return it to them for you? Good work, bringing this to me."

Delia handed over the knife, murmuring her thanks. But she couldn’t settle the pit in her stomach. 

“Any change?” Roderika’s voice startled her out of her stupor. The young noble watched her, expression hopeful. Delia shook her head and the other girl’s face fell.

“Not yet, but… I might have a solution.” Roderika’s expression brightened, but Delia shook her head. “I’m not sure whether it will work.”

“You’ll let me know if you need anything, though?”

Delia nodded, forcing a smile. She said hello to Hewg, receiving a grunt in return, and then rounded the corner. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. 

Rogier was as she’d left him, lying with his head turned toward the door. She padded across the room and lowered herself onto the bed. She reached forward to lift his head, allowing herself a moment to caress his cheek. 

She withdrew the potion from her satchel, examining it again. She told herself that she was running out of options. She told herself that this would work. 

She tipped his head gently back. He moaned in his sleep, shifting slightly. She lifted the bottle, losing her resolve at the last moment. She traced one finger lightly over his lips and then steeled herself again. 

She poured the contents into his mouth. For a moment, he didn’t move. Then he coughed. His eyelids fluttered without opening as he began to writhe. 

Delia started to panic. “Rogier?” She leapt to her feet, hauling him up until he was nearly sitting. His eyes fluttered again, the barest hint of green peeking from between his dark lashes. 

His muttering had begun again, frantic. She heard him say “no” and then unmistakably, she heard her name. She looked up and met his eyes, wide and disbelieving. 

“Rogier?” Her eyes flitted all over him; his flushed cheeks, his unfocused pupils, the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Her heart soared- he was awake. She grasped at his hands, but he weakly pulled them back. She looked at him in shock- he’d never recoiled from her touch before. 

She nearly fell backward at his expression. His eyes burned with anger. With betrayal. His lip had curled up. She took him in, dropping his hands, struck dumb by shock. 

“Why?” His whisper was harsh. She met his gaze again, catching a hint of honest hurt there. But already, his eyes were sliding shut, body slumping down. “Why would you…”

“No, no, no, no,” she whispered. “Rogier, no, please.” She fumbled to keep him upright, but he was heavier than before. Her thoughts raced, desperately searching for a better route. But it was too late for that. It was all she could do to lower him back to the bed without bumping his head on the headboard. She stared at him in

“What have I done?” she whispered. 

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

She rode like mad south into the Caelid Wilds. Despair and doubt made her reckless, cutting her way through anything that stood in her path. 

Blaidd was waiting in the courtyard when she arrived, breathless and heartbroken. “Ah, there you are. Took your sweet time. The players are all made up, and waiting for the curtain…” She nodded at him, as distracted as he usually was. “Let’s give them a show to remember, eh.”

He laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, drawing her attention. “Just don’t you go dying on me. For Ranni’s sake, too.” She nodded again, firmer this time. 

“Let’s kill a god.”

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

It was a harrowing battle. Radahn was a fearsome foe with an unmatched skill in gravity sorceries, and Delia was left battered and sore after a long fight. Blaidd seemed pleased with their success, and she agreed to meet him in Nokron after checking in on Rogier. 

“The curtain’s riising… on the final act.”

She couldn’t be sure whether it was Blaidd’s portentous words or a strange sixth sense, but she knew something was wrong the moment she set foot in the Hold. Her skin crawled, heart pounding. 

Please, not Rogier. 

She hurried down the hall, stopping dead in her tracks in the doorway of the antechamber outside her room. 

D lay still, sprawled at the feet of a cloaked figure. 

Fia. 

She spoke without turning. “Finally, it is returned to its rightful place. The stolen hallowbrand, of the exalted noble. And now, I must bid you goodbye as well.” She turned then, glaring at Delia from beneath the fringe of her hood. “Though I ask you deliver this message to the Roundtable Hold. I am Fia, Deathbed Companion. Hark, Roundtable. Disturb not the Death of Godwyn, the exalted. We, who humbly live in Death… live in waiting, to one day welcome our Lord.” Her voice grew louder, stronger as she went on. “What right does anyone have to object? Our Lord will rise. The Lord of the many, and the meek.”

She raised her hands. Delia raised her sword. She lunged forward, but too late. The Deathbed Companion was gone. 

Delia fell to her knees beside D, struggling to turn his body. She wrestled his helm from his head, pressing her fingers to the pale flesh of his throat. 

Dead. 

She sobbed, turning to heave over her shoulder. 

“Delia?” Roderika’s voice was panicked. “Oh,” she gasped. “Oh, gods. Oh, D.” She slid to her knees beside Delia, clutching her shoulder with one hand. The other, she reached out shakily to lay on D’s arm. “Delia, the roots…”

Delia nodded woodenly. She’d seen them. 

“Is that what…”

“I think so.”

“And… and Rogier? This is what happened to him?” Delia nodded again. She couldn’t speak around the lump in her throat. 

“And… I think…” she choked on the words. “I think I made it worse.” That unleashed the flood of tears that had been frozen by horror.

“Darling.” Roderika wrapped both arms around Delia’s shuddering shoulders, pulling her to her chest. “How could you have made it worse?” 

It took several moments and lots of hushing from the younger girl before Delia could put together the words.

“I gave him a potion. I turned him into a puppet.”

“A… puppet?” Roderika’s voice shook- in terror or revulsion, Delia couldn’t tell. She felt the other girl release her shoulders and sagged forward, onto her hands. Her tears flowed freely now.

“A puppet. I-I was running out of time, he’d fallen asleep like he said he would and I-”

“Asleep? Delia, what do you mean ‘asleep’?”

“He told me…” she sniffled. “He told me he felt as though he would fall into a ‘fathomless slumber’. He told me he was afraid. And he did. He fell asleep and I couldn’t wake him up.” She leaned back and pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, then scrubbed her hands roughly down her face. “So I gave him a potion that would preserve his body until I can cure him. But I… I think I made a mistake.”

Roderika was silent. Delia looked over her shoulder. Roderika’s expression was contemplative.

“Well… can it be undone?”

Delia sniffled again. “I never would have done it if I thought it couldn’t.” Her voice broke again. Roderika leaned forward, taking Delia in her arms again. 

“There, there,” she soothed. “I think you did your best.”

“I don’t think he’ll forgive me,” Delia confessed in a whisper.

For a long time, the two simply rocked together on the floor. Then, Roderika spoke. “I think he will.”

���˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

When Delia arrived at the crater in Limgrave, Blaidd was nowhere to be found. She waited for several minutes, even considering descending without him. 

Something stopped her.

Something was wrong.

She summoned Torrent, giving him his reins once she’d mounted. He had yet to steer her wrong. The steed ambled South, taking her down a path that seemed vaguely familiar. They followed the path until Delia heard something that made her recognize the area.

Howling.

They were near the Forlorn Hound Evergaol.

She spurred Torrent on, weaving up the path to the elevator and leaping from his back. The howling abruptly stopped as she ran across the elevator.

“Hello?” she called.

“Oh, it’s you.” Blaidd. “It’s me, Blaidd.” Delia felt a crazed laugh bubbling up at the thought that he thought that she might not recognize his voice. The sound died in her throat as he went on. “Old Iji trapped me in here. Told me I’d bring naught but bale to Lady Ranni. But there’s no chance that could happen. I’m part of her being. Her very shadow… I thought old Iji knew as much.”

Delia peered around, wondering why the gaol would not open. Her eyes landed on the gargoyle guard standing watch. She strode to it.

“Honestly,” muttered Blaidd, “I don’t know what’s going on anymore…” The stone key had been removed from its place in the gargoyle’s mouth. Delia breathed a sigh of relief, pulling one from her pack and slotting it. She watched the elevator light and was rewarded with Blaidd’s tall frame a moment later.

“My thanks, friend. I’m going to see mistress Ranni, now. I don’t know what came over old Iji, but even if the odds are slim, I need to check the mistress is safe.”

Delia blanched. “What about Nokron?”

Blaidd barked a laugh. “Oh, you certainly don’t need my help there. You’re quite the warrior, yourself, and more of a scholar than me.” His hand made a muffled thump as it landed on her shoulder. “We’ll see each other soon. Now, Ranni can finally set in motion the fight against her fate she’s dreamt of for so long.”

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

“Iji, what’s going on?”

The old troll looked up from his reading, sighing heavily. 

“I presume you've spoken with Blaidd? Very well. There is something you should know. The Two Fingers gave Blaidd to Lady Ranni, as a faithful follower. Her very shadow, incapable of treachery. But if Lady Ranni, as an Empyrean, resists being an instrument of the Two Fingers, the shadow will go mad, transforming from a follower into a horrid curse. But such is his destiny. In such matters, Blaidd's own thoughts hold no weight. It pains me so, but he must be neutralized. For Lady Ranni's sake.”

Neutralized. 

“Neutralized how?”

They watched each other for a long moment. When Iji spoke, his voice was heavy with sorrow. 

“However we must.”

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

Delia crashed into the Hold.

She’d found them, in Nokron. 

Black boluses.

She was sure they would cure the Death Blight.

They had to.

Roderika called her name, but it didn’t slow her mad dash. She threw open the door without bothering to shut it, fumbling at the low table by the fireplace. There was a bowl and spoon there that she managed to pick up after a moment of grappling. She rushed to the bedside, dumping the boluses she’d collected into the bowl and using the spoon to smash them. Then she fell to her knees, raising the bowl and Rogier’s head. She poured the contents into his mouth, careful to slow herself enough to not choke him.

When the bowl was empty, she sat with her back against the bed, clutching his hand in both of hers. She saw Roderika peer around the door frame before retreating quietly down the hall. She closed her eyes.

Just for a moment.

She dreamed as she dozed. She dreamed of Rogier, on his feet and buzzing with the energy she associated with him. She dreamed of his sparkling peridot eyes and the curve of his lips in his tiny, secret smile. 

She dreamed that he spun her around, lifting her in his arms, laughing all the while. She dreamed that he pressed her close to himself. 

She dreamed that he leant down and brushed his lips to hers. 

And then thrust his rapier through her stomach. 

She woke to Roderika’s soft touch on her shoulder. 

“Delia, are you alright? You were crying in your sleep.”

She reached up, smearing tears as she rubbed her eyes. 

“I’m fine,” she said hoarsely. She rose quickly, turning to toss aside the blanket from over Rogier’s legs. 

She blinked. 

Some of the roots had withered and browned. 

“Roderika,” she whispered. 

“I see it,” Roderika whispered back.

The two looked at each other, a slow smile spreading across Roderka’s face. For the first time in weeks, Delia let herself smile, too. 

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

“My lady.”

“Ahh...It was thee. Not Blaidd, it seemeth. Even in my slumber, I sensed it. It is in thy possession, is it not? The hidden treasure of Nokron?” Delia withdrew the blade from her sheath, holding it out to Ranni. “My thanks. Finally, all the pieces are in place. Soon must I begin my journey. Upon the dark path only I may tread. Ah, but before I leave, I shall entrust thee with this.”

She handed Delia an odd trinket, an hourglass with a woman inside.

“My thanks, for thy sterling efforts. A strange gift, perhaps, but a rare sort such as thee would welcome it, I am sure. I am certain now, fate steered us to our reunion. I must thank Torrent too, for his part.” Though her doll’s face did not change, there was warmth in Ranni’s voice. Delia smiled a tired smile. “You may leave now. It was but brief, but thou gavest me fine service.”

The smile snapped off her face, blood running cold. “Leave? But-”

“Mine part is not yet done,” interrupted Ranni. “But almost. Soon enough, I shall aid you with your friend.”

Delia choked back a sob. “My lady, he… he has already fallen asleep…” Ranni said nothing, templing her fingers in thought. “I… I gave him a potion from Seluvis…”

Ranni’s voice snapped. “From Seluvis?”

Delia hung her head in shame. “I didn’t know what to do. I was frightened, I-” Ranni held up a set of hands to pause her rambling.

“Thy intentions are true, of that I am certain. Thou was wise to give it him. Now wish well that it hold him until mine powers be returned to me.”

There was a high, thin, keening sound then, wrought with despair. It took too long for Delia to recognize that the sound came from her. 

Though Ranni’s face was unmoving as ever, there was sympathy in her eyes. 

“Seluvis made well his potions, snake that he was. And thine friend be strong of mind, to be still breathing.”

Was?

“Now, go.”

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

She went, with a sinking feeling, to Seluvis’s Rise.

She found him there, dead.

She couldn’t stop the curl of her lip, even as panic rose up in her chest.

He hadn’t told her how to free Rogier from the spell.

Ranni would know.

Ranni would fix it.

Numbly, she made her way to Iji.

“Oh, there you are. Good of you to drop by. Have you heard? Lady Ranni has departed on her journey. Along the dark path of the Empyrean, from Renna’s Rise, as she calls it. It would not have been possible without you. As Lady Ranni’s war counselor, and moreover, her childhood warden, I express my deepest gratitude. You, and only you, were Lady Ranni’s true champion.”

“That’s not true,” whispered Delia. Iji hummed a question at her. “I said that’s not true. You and Blaidd are her champions as much as I am.”

“Well,” Ijii said slowly. “That may be true, but you are the only one who broke her curse. Who set her fate in motion. And Blaidd…”

“Blaidd’s concern is only for her. His only thoughts, Iji, are of her.” Her voice was too sharp. Her ability to cope was wearing thinner by the day, by the horror of the things she’d seen and done.

Carefully, Iji lowered his book to rest on his anvil, giving her his full attention. He spoke gently, patiently. “I hope that you are not mistaken. Truly, I do.” He looked as though he wanted to say more, but he didn’t. He only picked up his book again, leaving Delia to her thoughts.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

Renna’s Rise had been inaccessible before, shielded by some magic.

That magic was gone now. Delia made her way up the ladder, up the elevator, into the loft above. It was empty, save a chest and a portal. She opened the chest to find Ranni’s garb, there- her hat, her dress, her cloak. She fingered the thick fur of the cloak, thinking of Blaidd as she did.

Where had he gone?

She didn’t want to believe Iji’s words that he might turn against Ranni, turn against his own free will. But she hadn’t been able to find him after freeing him from the Evergaol, and she was beginning to fear for him.

Carefully, she folded Ranni’s clothes into a neat bundle, wrapping it all with a short length of rope. Her fingers brushed against the pamphlet Rogier had so lovingly created for her. She felt dizzy with despair. She lifted her head and straightened her shoulders, looking to the portal.

Reaching forward, she let herself be tugged somewhere else.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

Delia lifted the tiny doll with shaking hands.

“My lady?” There was no response. She gripped the doll slightly tighter, trying and failing to maintain some semblance of calm. “Lady Ranni.” Still nothing. She made an aggravated sound, shaking the doll lightly between her hands.

She took a deep breath. “I know you can hear me. And I’m not going to leave until you speak to me.”

The answering voice was dry. “Oh? A dogged fellow, aren't we? Or is it merely thy habit, to talk to dolls?” 

Delia sucked in a breath. She’d been half convinced that she was wrong, that this wouldn’t work.

“Fine...fine. I hadn't expected any soul to recognize me in this guise.” Delia arched an eyebrow at that. Really? “But now the cat is out the bag, I cannot allow thee thy freedoms. Perform for me a service, as recompense. Eliminate the Baleful Shadows which prowl these lands. The name of Ranni the Witch is already sullied by thee. I will not brook disobedience in this matter.”

Delia felt her hackles rise. Sullied? She bit her tongue. She couldn’t afford to lose her temper. Not now, not with Rogier’s life on the line. And so instead, she fought her way through dripping caverns, past ants as large as shacks, past a malformed star.

She fought through all of this, not easily, but without pause.

“Let us speak of the past awhile.”

Ranni told her tales of Empyreans and the Two Fingers. Of Blaidd, her vassal shadow, and of slaying her own flesh. Of Baleful Shadows, of Iji and Blaidd’s loyalty- especially Blaidd’s.

Delia fought.

“Blaidd, and Iji both… art willing to give too much to me.”

Until she reached a courtyard, drowned in an awful red glow.

“Ah, should I add thee to the list? Another one, kind of heart. As kind of heart as they.”

Until she saw Blaidd.

“O Shadow, thou’rt the last.”

Shadow. Not Blaidd.

She raised her sword just in time to block a devastating blow from Blai- the Shadow’s- sword.

“Tell the Two Fingers, that Ranni the Witch cometh, to rend thy flesh.” Ranni’s voice was powerful and angry. Delia sidestepped, rolled, used her blade’s enchantment to close the distance. With a powerful thrust, she drove it up, through the chest of the Shadow. “With a fateful wound, ne’er to heal.”

Delia choked back the involuntary sob that arose from killing one wearing the face of a friend.

“Beautifully fought,” Ranni soothed. “My thanks.”

Delia wrenched her blade free with a squelch, doing her damndest not to look at the mask at her feet.

“Now I can finally stand before them. We’ll meet again, my dear. Take this key, and bring me what it opens. And tell Blaidd, and Iji… I love them.” 

There was a tiny ringing sound in the cavern, and then a filigreed key dropped at Delia’s feet. She picked it up with a sigh. She looked up, toward the passage on the far side of the room. Something about it called to her. She moved toward it, hand on the hilt of her sword, and peeked through.

Her stomach dropped at the sight of a vast, roiling lake of Scarlet Rot.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

The path forward had been bloody and fraught with pain.

The key had opened a chest. The chest had produced a ring. The ring had raised questions. Questions had led her to Iji. Speaking with Iji had led her to Blaidd.

Blaidd, Ranni’s most loyal companion and protector. Blaidd, her own friend and helper. Blaidd, driven mad by the nature he sought to master. Blaidd, who had attacked her.

Blaidd, who she had killed.

She’d fallen to her knees at the steps, shock and grief silencing the wails clawing their way up their throat.

She had to tell Ranni. She had to tell Iji.

Iji’s words had haunted her as she numbly followed the draw of Grace.

“I’ll catch up with you soon enough, Blaidd. When I do, I only hope you’ll accept my apology.”

She’d had no tears left to cry when she found Ranni’s lifeless doll body, bloody and still. Her only thought as she knelt had been of Rogier, that she’d well and truly failed him now.

She hadn’t let herself look too closely at her own near-friendship with the witch. 

But she wasn’t dead, and that was one crisis averted for the time being. Delia had let herself be lulled into a sense of relief- that Ranni was alive, that everything would be alright.

Everything was not alright.

At the Hold, in Delia’s chambers, Ranni had produced a necklace, sharp edged and sapphire with scarlet sheen along the points.

Not a necklace. A blade.

Delia recoiled. She could no longer hear Ranni’s voice above the ringing in her ears. Each time she thought things couldn’t get worse, they did.

“It is the only way. If thou hasn’t the stomach for it, I can help thee not.”

“He’ll never forgive me,” Delia whispered.

“Neither wilt he forgive thee if he does not live to do so.”

Delia sucked in a shaky breath. “Is this… it’s because I…” She couldn’t finish the thought. 

She needn’t have tried. Ranni was shaking her head, slowly. “He was at Death’s door, my dear. Thou didst well by him.”

She lifted her hand slowly, offering the blade once more. Delia stared at it. 

She couldn’t do what Ranni asked.

She had to.

She squeezed her eyes shut. She pictured Rogier’s bright eyes and dark hair, the curve of his lips and the arch of his brows.

She blew out all the air in her lungs and reached for the blade.

It took lifetimes to walk the few steps to her bed. It took longer to sit, and longer still to lay a hand on Rogier’s shoulder. She leaned forward to rest her head in the crook of his neck.

“You were right,” she whispered. “The boluses, they worked.” She stroked his sweaty hair back from where it brushed his eyebrows. Careful doses of the black boluses had killed the remainder of the magic roots, and those that hadn’t dried and falled had simply… disappeared.

If only she’d found them sooner.

She lay her head against his chest.

���Come, my dear. Be not afraid. I’ll not let him die, not now. Not after what thou hast done to see him through.”

She lifted her head, turning a tortured expression back to Ranni. “There’s no other way?”

The witch glided forward and rested a pair of hands on Delia’s shoulder, but said nothing.

Delia took in a shaky breath, drawing little comfort from Ranni’s cold hands. She pressed her cheek to Rogier’s. “I’m sorry,” she breathed.

Then she drew back and, with a savage thrust, drove the blade into his heart.

[katyspersonal]

Gideon for the ask meme. =)

(Ask from this ( x ) meme)

Favorite thing about them:

I like that he kind of subverted the trope he seemed to be going for! I already answered the same thing in your ask regarding what exactly made him turn around and abandon everything ( x ), and honestly I DID need to answer that question to myself first of all so thank you for that one! x)

He feels like the trope of a guy who is very smart with books but not a smart person, or rather, "knowledge does not equal wisdom"! Like, you know this trope! And a very pleasing trope to latch onto, because we all knew at least one person like this! One who is very well-informed, a walking encyclopedia, but either doesn't make real sense of this information or misses the main point in all these facts and details! Well... nonetheless, he understood something not even we have: Marika's true wish!

He understood the lie of "consort of Marika", and why exactly she shattered the Elden Ring! He understood she wanted to end the vicious cycle that existed as long as she does, and sure she did not want another one to start by Elden Ring being repaired! Unfortunately, "a God can't die" (though she probably hoped Hewg and someone he helps would find the way?), so the best he can offer to approximate her wish is to gatekeep the Elden Ring endlessly!

Not only he understood what we, who seek Lordship, didn't. Being the head of the Roundtable Hold was THE massive chunk of his life, his main accomplishment. He gave all this time, research and even many deals with his own integrity for the purpose that the called Tarnished were promised. He lived hell knows how long and the lie of Two Fingers was all he ever knew. And yet, as soon as he glimpsed into truth, his instant reaction was "alright then, new plan". A typical trope of this character would've had a severe cognitive dissonance at least, a pathetic reaction of rejecting the truth at most. But he just... rolled with it. No denial, no despair. Instantly embraced the fact that everything he's been working on was a lie. How many people do you know that take having their whole world shutter THIS well and simply accept the new facts?

This is commendable. He might have made many mistakes in his life and appeared arrogant and became cold, but he passed THE one trial for whether he really values knowledge that mattered the most. He, in the end, lived up to what he aspired to be with no struggle beyond "shuddering in fear".

Least favorite thing about them:

Oh, I definitely agree that it got to be the way he disowns Nepheli, but it speaks more about him. Because this is the same trait that allows him to take Ensha's death as just an inconvenience that must not distract him any longer! Ironically, it is simply the other side of the trait of his that I JUST praised above!

He is quick to adapt and bounce back from the stress, true... But he is also quick to severe the bonds if his goals or situation calls for it. I do not believe he never cared for Nepheli! The way he talks about her, both words and his voice tone, betray respect and affection.

And yet he later says he "no longer has a use for her".

The man can't get mentally staggered by anything, which is his power, but a power that comes with a price. ....that usually other people will pay. He will instantly move on from a breakup, not shed a tear at the funeral of a loved one, bounce back from betrayal as though he never expected anything to begin with, and he definitely, DEFINITELY won't hesitate to cut the ties if the hold him back! Does this man have a heart? Can truly lasting, deep bonds be formed with him, if he doesn't let anyone's hand hold his heart strings?

Strange, how the same trait can be commendable strength of the character in one instance, but a rather repulsive callousness in another, don't you think?

Favorite line:

"Despite knowing next to bloody nothing, he's so far up his own arse he won't suspect a thing. His inevitable display of arrogance will certainly be a sight to behold."

I do love all of his nerding, but him being salty about Seluvis felt sooooo satisfying! xD I don't know why, this dialogue just always makes me smile! It is both the sense of "being against the same bitch" even if briefly AND knowing that he is not wrong though. >:3

brOTP:

Him and Dolores, I think!

I was talking about his callousness that doubles like strength of the character for a while, right? I feel like he was friends with Dolores and Seluvis before he developed to be like that, in younger years!

It is not quite like Gideon that we know now, to cut the ties with someone because they've harmed a person he cared about and not because "they are no longer of use"! More than that; whatever you say about Seluvis as a person, but I'd say he is quite useful acquaintance!

I am not sure whether this experience broke Gideon's heart and he never assed to glue it back, or he simply changed over years on his own. But nonetheless, he held her dear. "Both a critic and a friend of Gideon the All-Knowing". He appreciated a person who had the balls to disagree with him, and you KNOW she had actual arguments and good points to be respected as a critic by HIM! It is another glimpse into how he really IS the man who values the truth over "being right". She must have been the type to be clever even without much knowledge or read books, and he for sure is aware that being informed doesn't mean understanding this information. Their debates must have been very productive for both of them! I can see how he valued her honesty and insight, yet back in his better days, he grieved her, not her "lost use".

OTP:

I think maybe, again, Dolores? It feels like this ship would've never came to fruition in canon! I can picture either him having a crush but never expressing it, or her not feeling the same and them bouncing back to being friends very quickly! Still, the "love" from Gideon we know these days is a treacherous kind, ready to leave you behind as soon as the situation calls for it. But, he used to be different.

I also like to think he liked Wilhelm and Vargram both! True, Vyke was the Roundtable Hold Tarnished who approached Lordship the closest! But, he respected the approach of those two more. Wilhelm is a goddamn NERD as well, peering as far as primeval current and accepting the "Insight" that told him to fight his friend! Vargram took the task put on Tarnished so seriously that he fashioned himself after a Shadowbeast! And found Gloam Eyed Queen's sword?! I could picture his respect to the two who take it as seriously as he does growing into something stronger! Don't know which guy though. 🤔 In any case, these things are from the days long past, but he wishes Tarnished at least half-way as endearing as those two joined again.

nOTP:

I think Gideon x Seluvis just doesn't hold appeal for me.. I do not mind 'hatefucking' kind of pairs at all, okay? *voice of a guy who wrote that mini speculation about Hornsent and Leda lol* They're funny! But it is the "they fell apart because of Dolores" that seals the deal for me...

It is a Serious One, to be together with someone who obliterated the free will of a person you cherished for that free will to begin with! Gideon is a different person now, but I think he reserves the younger Gideon that lost her as inseparable part of his history, and buildup to who he became. And that includes grudge with Seluvis. These days, he would've "forgiven" someone like that as long as they're "of use" as he learned to not expect any human decency, but the pillars of the past may remain untouched.

Random headcanon:

As you can see, Gideon is unprecedented case of a Nox Tarnished, something we don't get to have in character creation presets nor anything seen in any other character!

From the way he speaks of Nepheli, he is not quite blind to someone's origins or heritage! As much as he ultimately values someone's own potential, these biases he can't fully uproot, and it includes him. Deep down, he feels proud to descend from folks that angered the Greater Will itself and dared to try and do no one else would! In an oddly poetic way, it played nicely into the end of his story, where he did favor what Marika wanted rather than what Two Fingers and whatever behind them wanted! Without intending to, he lived to the mindset of his ancestors...?

Still, he always knew he was "not like other kids" for his looks, and felt glad if someone was able to recognise his kind of eyes.

Unpopular opinion:

Most (all of them) things people guilt Gideon for actually apply to Seluvis! Seluvis is the arrogant one, Seluvis is the all-books-no-wits guy! Seluvis is a disgusting scheming bastard! Seluvis is the one "coping"! Gideon IS wise and knowledgeable, Gideon DOES have principles even if he lost the struggle to uphold him on his way! STOP LIVING IN A LIE WAKE UP

Song I associate with them:

For some reason this, makes me think of him... More particularly, his gradual descent into making more and more deals with his own consciousness.

This song made me imagine Gideon constantly having to convince himself that this is "the last atrocity he commanded", that the situation simply called for it now, but surely, when he (or someone he helped) becomes a Lord, all will be fixed and redeemed? He will be back on the track to his goal to fix the world and never let oppression happen again! This is just this time, he will have better options later, eventually, for sure...

Favorite picture of them: