#renira sulver

[i-mybrunettelady]

lady o' shade ♤

[kerra-and-company]

Kerra on El & Ren, my closed off emotionally beebs!!!

Ooh good choices, let's go! :D And thanks a bunch for the ask! Kerra on El: "He is a fairly incredible individual and one that I would love to meet someday. One of two commanders, and focused on research?" [She smiles a little.] "Perhaps he could give me some teaching tips. I don't think he and my daughter should meet, though, or they might end up burning our house down--oh, I mean Ia, not Aurene!" [She laughs; then her face becomes serious.] "While you're here, if you can pass on a message to him for me, I'd like to thank him for what he did for his universe's Trahearne. I'd like to thank him for saving my brother." Kerra respects and admires the things El's done, as well as the bits of his personal growth that she knows about, and she'd appreciate the chance to get to know him. She'd also be a bit anxious about meeting him because of that thing she mentioned in her last sentence above, though. She wouldn't want him to put her on any sort of pedestal for being able to save Trahearne when Nyra had to kill him. I could see them having a very loud conversation about that. Kerra on Ren: "The Spymaster, and a woman of many secrets. I've met people like her before." [She stops and blinks.] "That sounded dismissive, and that's not--I think I might understand her, is what I meant, though I'm doubtful she'd appreciate or believe that from a stranger. She does the Order and the Pact proud, and I'm happy for her and her partner." [She opens her mouth as if to say something else, but then she closes it with a small smile and a nod.] Kerra and Ren have some similarities with their traumas (or at least with the outcomes on their mental health), but their coping mechanisms are considerably different--hence Kerra holding herself back from giving Ren advice that probably wouldn't be helpful and would almost certainly be unwelcome. Kerra would definitely buy Ren a drink if they ever met in person, and though I don't think they'd ever be super super close, they could work well together for sure. (As long as Ren was comfortable with Kerra around, of course. I'm not sure how she'd feel about the empathy thing.)

[moonlit-grove]

Vie on Ren? And Mist husband whose name escapes me atm on Sanne?

"Spymaster Renira? I don't have as much information on her as I could... Which makes sense for a Spymaster! You don't want to have people knowing much about you! From what I know though, she's wonderful! I'm sure she and Ailbhe would get along!"

Vie isn't sure what to think about Ren. She's wary when thinking as the Spymaster, but highly curious and wanting to meet her when thinking as herself. She hopes they can get along!

"The Slayer. he hums a bit I remember hearing her play, shame she doesn't more often. It'd be nice to play together. Though, Skarti's told me about her Windowbreaker incident a laugh is audible under his words"

Harvardr really likes her! I imagine they'd be great friends, maybe even enjoying playing instruments together. He'd be like the teasing older brother.

BONUS BECAUSE I READ THE WRONG CHARACTER

"Laranthir's Reaper, yeah? Good kid- er... is she older than me? I don't remember... Hm. he looks off in the distance for a moment, before shaking his head Oh! Right. Cute plant. Great fighter... Really worth respecting."

Harvardr respects Siona a whole lot. A part of him sees a his youth in her. He wishes he knew her more personally, instead of just in a professional setting.

[i-mybrunettelady]

pov you're on a date with her (lesbian edition)

[i-mybrunettelady]

I got two humans - Nyra and Ren and Ren’s honestly the less interesting one here so I’m skipping her (she’s not a true follower of anyone, though she’s blessed by Abaddon) but Nyra. Nyra, man.

Nyra's devout. Not a priestess, but just a very devout human. She's a follower of all the Gods but carries Lyssa's blessing and realm of chaos within her. Faith's always been a huge part of her life, be it from her moderately (but not unhealthily!) religious family, be it from her own free will.

She's one of the two living humans to talk to Gods, the other being Ren. (That's my rewrite of season 3's last episode because I hate it with my whole heart and I've played it so many times now.) Except Ren never acknowledges it but Nyra does.

She's also the only human in recent history to kill a god. Whole PoF shook her heavily and she had a huge crisis of faith throughout whole of season 4 and a little into season 5 that's clearing up by the EoD.

But she's still religious, still devout, albeit in a broader and changed way than before. She doesn't believe in Six, but in Five.

Ren's indifferent even after talking to fucking Abaddon to blessed her. 😂

So I’ve been back on thinking about my two human Priest characters, who’re dedicated to Lyssa and Balthazar respectively, and it got me curious! Do you have any characters who’re really strongly related to or devoted to any of the Human gods? Be they preists, or super dedicated followers? I’d love to hear about them! I’ll be honest, I’m not the most knowledgeable of the human gods, but I’d be super interested to hear about other people’s characters who’re similarily super dedicated to any of them, and why and how it affects them!

[kerra-and-company]

Ooh okay gimme Ari ⭐ Ren or Aysel ⭐ Mirka

Hmm...I'ma do both, just for fun, if that's okay!! :D

Ari & Ren

I like you // I love you // You’re one of my best friends // You’re like family // You are family // I dislike you // I hate you // I’d kill you if I got the chance // I want you to like me // I’m scared of you // I would adopt you // I’d date you // I’d sleep with you // I’d marry you // I’m worried about you // You confuse me // You’re annoying // I pity you // I respect you // I trust you // I feel protective of you // I’d invite you with me to parties // I’d lend you my money // I’d borrow your money // You’re good-looking // I’m suspicious of you // I’m hiding something from you // You’re fun // You’re boring // I’m upset with you // You’re nice // You’re mean // I’m envious of you // You’re smart // You’re stupid // I look up to you // I think you’re a better person than me // I think I’m a better person than you // I want to apologize to you // I wish I’d never met you // I never want to forget you // I want to get to know you better

Ari would simultaneously like and be on guard around Ren. They both work(ed) with the Order, but Ari never felt particularly at home there, and besides, she knows that secrets are kinda the norm with spies. At the same time, she can relate to Ren in a lot of ways. On Ari's end, at least, it'd take a *while*, but she'd vibe with them being at least casual friends eventually if Ren was okay with that, too.

Aysel & Mirka

I like you // I love you // You’re one of my best friends // You’re like family // You are family // I dislike you // I hate you // I’d kill you if I got the chance // I want you to like me // I’m scared of you // I would adopt you // I’d date you // I’d sleep with you // I’d marry you // I’m worried about you // You confuse me // You’re annoying // I pity you // I respect you // I trust you // I feel protective of you // I’d invite you with me to parties // I’d lend you my money // I’d borrow your money // You’re good-looking // I’m suspicious of you // I’m hiding something from you // You’re fun // You’re boring // I’m upset with you // You’re nice // You’re mean // I’m envious of you // You���re smart // You’re stupid // I look up to you // I think you’re a better person than me // I think I’m a better person than you // I want to apologize to you // I wish I’d never met you // I never want to forget you // I want to get to know you better

Aysel would be a big fan of Mirka, haha--wolf cub over here would be quite happy to meet her. (Note: the hiding bit is just...Aysel hides some things from everyone; not personal to Mirka at all).

[averagebreadslice]

character bingo + nyra or renira? :eyes:

Both? Both is good.

[i-mybrunettelady]

Omg yes positive traits my beloved

Nyra's absolute best trait is her charisma, I think. It's the basis of everything she does and a lot of her other qualities as well. She makes you feel included (so long as you're willing to let her lead usually, she just naturally falls into the leadership position and in fact needed a lot of growth to let go of that "i know best because I lead" mentality), heard and listened to. She's sometimes hard to be around, given her driven and determined attitude, but she will make you feel cared for, protected and loved. She's very inspirational because of that. Notable mention goes to her relentless optimism. And for a more social quality, she's an excellent conversationalist.

El's best quality is that he's fun to be around. Once he gets to liking you, he's just genuinely fun to be around. Sarcastic, rather than scathing; a nothing is sacred sense of humor; no shame whatsoever in discussing anything. He laughs a lot and is just a great enjoyer of life. If he's tipsy too, he'll flirt too - and god knows he's great at flirting when he has his eyes set on someone. These days not so much as he only drunkenly flirts with Liv, but in general yeah!

Ren's best quality is certainly her sharp intellect and charm. That varies greatly depending on who she's talking to so like that's the basest common factor I think in all of these situations.

What is a positive trait about your Commander?

-

Most of the time we talk about the trauma of our commanders, I want to know what makes them have the friends they do, what do they do to make others smile!

-

[i-mybrunettelady]

Chante avec moi, je veux une femme like you Pour m'emmener au bout du monde, une femme like you

[i-mybrunettelady]

*Chappell Roan starts playing in the background*

[i-mybrunettelady]

a gravitational pull

Summary: Renira goes on a date with a very singular woman. Content warnings: sensuality/making out (M) Spoilers: None Note: Happy Lesbian visibility week! I may not be a lesbian but Ren is and I wanted to write this for ages now but just.. didn't, so here's one for a ship that could've been, but never was. Ft Babymander Nyra.

Renira doesn’t ordinarily meddle with targets that don’t concern her current mission. The Vigil, as far as her orders go, are allies and not people whose secrets she should be focused on. A secret here and there is fine, but there is a line that the agents can’t cross. Not when there’s General Soulkeeper and Warmaster Kernsson on sight as two high ranking officers. The Warmaster, maybe, if she were daring enough to attempt to spy on him again at such a time, but the General? 

She cannot risk it; not as a Lightbringer. Not when her squad relies on her in this way. 

Yet when Kernsson’s pretty apprentice starts chatting her up and asks her for a date, Renira is all too quick to agree. There is no shortage of pretty women, but there is a shortage of time. Now, after that whole business with Ajax Anvilburn is done with, she can take a break for one evening. It’s nothing serious, after all.

Then again, Renira does wonder if digging up info on your date before you even go out is standard practice for anyone who isn’t of the Whispers. Probably not. Alysannyra Ainsaph’s name has popped up here and there - starting with a file in bold, red letters called the Hero of Shaemoor. She has family here in Ebonhawke. And now, apparently, she has joined the Vigil and bears the title of Crusader. 

That’s where she makes herself stop. There need to be conversation topics. She cannot know everything in advance. 

“Nice dress, by the way,” Alysannyra says with a slight curve to the ends of her lips. “I see you’re taking cues from the locals.” She then pauses and joins her hands before her. Her lips, full and pink, are slightly parted. “I think it suits you, personally. We’d wear it belted in Rurikton, for the waist emphasis, but it looks good like this, I think. And I think the flower I chose works well with it? As if I’d known!”

Renira takes a deep breath. “Thank you,” she says and accepts the flowers - a vibrant yellow to match the pink of her dress, just as Alysannyra said - and gently holds them in her hand. Then Alysannyra offers her a hand and off on the streets of Ebonhawke they go. 

She looks good tonight. They look quite the pair, unintentionally so. The thought makes Renira smile. Nyra looks rather good in the traditional Ascalonian embroidered shirt and a jelek. The shirt is open enough to reveal her collarbones and the tightness of the vest makes her chest look pronounced. Her hair is long and loose, brushed but only barely, alternating between brown, red and blonde in the dying light of day. Her face is bare. 

Renira hasn’t seen eyes as blue in a while. Or maybe the lack of romantic attention in recent times finally reared its ugly head. While not that common, blue eyes aren’t exactly a rarity either. 

“Your hair changes color in the sunlight,” Renira says, by way of observation. Their footsteps fall in rhythm.

“Only the wisest of men know what my actual hair color is,” Nyra supplies, and lifts her eyebrows. “It has been foretold, certainly, that one who guesses it right will win my hand in marriage.” 

“Should I keep looking then?” Renira laughs. She likes the way Nyra talks. The dryness of her humor is refreshing. 

“If you like. I like to be looked at. If you guess right, you might get me to pop the question, Ascalonian style.” 

“Oh? I assume your heritage allows you for more insight on that particular topic than my few months of living here does?” Renira leans in - rather, down. Nyra’s hair smells of fresh herbs. 

Nyra lifts her head to meet her eyes. She holds her gaze. “I could show you, if you’d like,” she says. 

Renira hums. “There is time, Nyra.” She masks the extent of the excitement the response leaves in her. Nyra is a woman of the court, and she knows the art of conversation just as well as Renira does, yet not everyone acquires the charm needed to get to be as good as it can be. 

No, it’s not charm, not really. It feels like she has something of a gravitational pull that makes Renira unable to look away. The steadiness of her gaze, the warmth of her hand, scent of herbs and a hint of perfume, all coupled with her head held high, tempts Renira to bend down and kiss her then and there. When has she grown attracted to muscle on a woman? That is a new development. 

Not that she minds. 

Nyra’s smile is lopsided. “Enough time to squeeze a second date in?” 

Renira laughs. “Maybe. If I don’t make up my mind by the end of this one.” She pulls her closer. The eye contact breaks when she snakes their fingers tighter together and runs her nails over Nyra’s knuckles. “We aren’t even at the date location yet. The night is young.” 

And indeed, the sun has just set. The moon is just peeking through, an invited, observant figure to  the chatter of people and their joint hands. By the end of this, Renira thinks, she could have Nyra in her bed if she wanted to. And where would the harm be, if she has a willing participant? 

Nyra nods, pink in the face. “That is for you to decide, but in the meantime, I think a delicious meal awaits us.” 

And the food is good, admittedly, the kind both humans and charr would enjoy. Well done meat with kajmak, chopped onion that neither of them are touching, reflections of the bright yellow flower in the little rakija bottles. Turns out Nyra isn’t a fan of it. She takes one sip, swallows like a battleworn hero she is, and places it down with all the grace of a woman of the court. Renira downs hers in one chug. Nyra lifts a brow, as if impressed. 

And maybe alcohol did lower their inhibitions, but they’re kissing in a dimly lit street later, with Nyra on the tips of her toes and her hands around Renira’s shoulders. She’s a good kisser, it turns out. 

“Billiard rooms,” Nyra explains in between kisses. It’s a rather silly high society excuse to stare at people’s asses and steal a kiss. 

Renira slides her hands down and squeezes Nyra’s ass. She doesn’t need any overpriced rooms. “Were there any bets?” she asks, curiously. A part of her laughs, almost; is she as cocky as someone like Nyra can afford to be, to place a bet to be the best she’s ever kissed? She doesn’t voice it. 

There are many things she hasn’t been able to afford herself. There’s something so very aristocratic about the way Nyra carries herself, the way she grabs attention and stamps her seal all over it. Even now, red in the face, with lips darkened by kissing and lipstick, she knows she looks good, she knows the world should be watching her. 

Arrogance, Renira thinks. Arrogance that’s hardly ever faced a pushback. Arrogance that makes her want to fuck her against that very wall, in this very street. What a luxurious thing. 

“Nothing that went beyond tongues,” Nyra replies after a thought. “My parents have always been of the old, Ascalonian cut.” 

Renira tilts her head and licks at Nyra’s lower lip. “And you?” 

Nyra looks visibly distracted for a moment. “I’ve never been to Ebonhawke before,” she says. “Is that good enough?” 

“More than enough.” Enough to write in your file later. Tastes divine, is hardly in touch with where her parents came from. Looking to reconnect. Doesn’t care about the way things are done here. She places a kiss on her jaw. Nyra’s nails dig into Renira’s skin. She then kisses lower, to her exposed neck. 

Then, she then feels Nyra’s hands pushing her face away from her neck. Just as Renira was about to ask to leave her a little bite. Rude, she thinks and smiles. You arrogant, rude, sexy aristocrat. You just need to be in charge. Did the world see that? Or do you keep these things to yourself?

“I know a place where we can have more privacy,” Nyra says in a voice that doesn’t invite questioning. A command wrapped in a statement, and the quietness of the tone doesn’t take anything away from its force. She slides her hand down so it rests on Renira’s hip. “It’s not that far away. Come.” 

She then takes Renira’s hand and goes down the street, lipstick stains on her face and neck be damned. She walks like it all belongs to her, like she’s the queen of the fucking world, with her head held high. Without shame. Arrogant. 

Not arrogant. Proud. 

It takes Renira a lot to fall in love, but maybe this is a closer thing. Or maybe it’s the rakija, and the kissing, and the moon whispering in her ear, and the Ebonhawke and its pressing history and its proud descendant that’s holding her hand. 

Whatever it is, Renira slides into the night with her. 

It is, after all, a call she can’t say no to. 

[i-mybrunettelady]

*vibrates* HUMANS! HUMANS! I LOVE THEM

First in the order of business - my darling blorbo, beloved Commander, Lady Alysannyra Ainsaph 🦭

Descended from Duke Barradin's kingly brother whose child was passed on the line of succession for one reason or another and married into the noble Ainsaf family of Ebonhawke (I have haven't played GW1 and all i have is my research so I'm kindly asking you to go along with it for the lore,) she is the first person in her family to be born outside of Ascalon. In Divinity's Reach, to be more precise. She grew up with privilege and luxury afforded by her family's noble status, though she always had an ambition to go down in history. And she did in her own very extra kind of way.

She is a charismatic leader but also one of the most difficult people you'll ever meet. She's a soldier, but also likes poetry, especially Ascalonian one, and translation of it. She's a devoted believer in the Five even after she killed Balthazar. She's wrestled with everything including her own very serious demons yet remains optimistic.

And she's with Trahearne!

I'll stop here before I ramble more but NYRA NYRA NYRA

Last but not least, Miss Renira Sulver, one of my Commanders and a Keeper of the Order of Whispers.

Born a child of two Shining Blade infiltrators who unfortunately had to surrender their daughter to an orphanage when she was just a baby and all they did was provide her name - Vera Bellenne Svetovid. Yet she spent her teen years on the streets of the city, working for gangs as a mesmer, right up till the age of 16, where she was caught and sentenced to hang. Night before the execution, Whispers agents showed up and offered her a chance to live if she joined them.

And so Vera took a whole ass personality change and a new name, Renira Sulver, as well as multiple cosmetic surgeries to look quite different from Vera. She is a Spymistress for the Pact, but she's also a damn good infiltrator. Abaddon is her patron god. She was in Joko's harem undercover at one point, where she met her girlfriend. Nowadays she lives in LA with said gf.

Ren,,, my beloved 😍😍

And in the spirit of extended verses, these two ladies are friends and colleagues in the Pact :)

Anyway, how about we get some positivity going here as well!

GW2 folks, show me your human OCs!! From human commanders to “just some guy”s, I wanna see what y’all have!

(GW1 OCs are absolutely welcome as well!!)

[i-mybrunettelady]

cozy little room for the shady lady

[i-mybrunettelady]

my future will listen to me

Summary: Alysannyra meets her patron goddess, Lyssa, at long last. Content warnings: None Spoilers: HoT & LWS3 Note: My piece for the @gw2-zine! Go check out the world of my lovely collaborators, and go follow the zine blog! Happy zine release day!

I 

Everyone’s dressed the same, in the same white robe. It’s designed so that it’ll never be worn outside of the ceremony and outside of this one moment in a child’s life, which makes the fine silver embroidery on it that much more meaningful. Alysannyra cannot fathom how it was made - they’d just taken her measurements one day and three weeks later, this gown appeared on their door. She doesn’t even try. Instead, she wears it with as much pride as she can, not knowing where her blessings lie yet. She wears her hair down like everyone else and she tries to not hate how it blends her in with a whole generation of eight-year olds in the watchful eyes of the high society of Divinity’s Reach. 

There are two children before her. She can feel the stares of the proud parents in the shadows of the grand church. She can’t turn, not now, because the question she needs to answer can’t be found in their expectant and somber silence. Murals cast a green light on the pale hair of a boy next to her, but he doesn’t seem unsure. Nervous, maybe, but not unsure. 

Anyone would be nervous in the presence of gods. Their statues cast large shadows in their absence. And the children are to kneel before the one whose gifts they have and go into their church’s fold. It’s no small task, but if Alysannyra knows anything, it’s that she can’t cower under the burden of it. So she stands with her back straight, in a white robe that tickles her ankles from the early morning breeze, and she doesn’t turn to her family. 

Instead, she looks between Lyssa and Balthazar, trying to chase where the feeling in her heart is leading her. So far, the pull’s stronger with Lyssa, but Nyra doesn’t have magic. She isn’t worried. She’s only eight; nobody has magic yet. But some have a better idea of what it might be than others. A child walks over to kneel before Melandru. A priest accepts the handle they’d been carrying and places it by Her feet. Green magic swirls around them and it’s done. 

A clicking sound of hundreds of little heels echoes against the stone floor as they all make one step forward. 

A choice has to be made, and soon. Alysannyra carries her head high, taller than most other kids already, and stares at Lyssa’s graceful form in the center of the Six. Pinks and purples of the vitrage behind her twin forms cast an inviting light that seems to twist and bend in strange shapes, as if to spite the harmony that doesn’t seem perturbed by them. Balthazar’s helmet feels comfortable; Alysannyra, too, will one day wear a helmet, as a member of the Seraph. Its weight feels irrelevant, necessary, part of the regalia as much as the white robe is. She can almost feel the pressure of the hot metal in her bare hands and she feels the war call to her. 

The blonde-haired boy steps forward and steadily walks towards Grenth. He offers the candle, if a little clumsily, and kneels as an unsettling magic twirls around him. Alysannyra watches when his eyes widen just slightly, feeling the magic on his skin, and that is done, too. He is now a member of the Church of Grenth, potential necromancer in the making. He moves away with that knowledge, and now it’s Alysannyra’s turn. 

She doesn’t move quite yet. The limited time she had to choose wasn’t enough, but she can’t ruin this. Her family’s reputation, at least for a season, is at stake, and that little feeling in her chest that burns every time someone calls her Lady Ainsaph, too. She takes a deep breath, looks once more, stares into the eyes of the statues, and turns right. She is a daughter of Ascalon, a daughter of war, and Balthazar would be fitting. 

She lifts one foot off the ground when something in her gut screams no. She holds her head high as she suddenly turns left and walks down to where Lyssa is, candle in hand. Clamor of the people is silenced by the determined clicking of her heels, but she feels at peace. 

Come, daughter, the statue seems to say. Part of her knows this will make people talk, but in a strange way, she looks forward to it. She looks forward to the chaos a slight movement of feet will cause, and lifts her head even higher. 

And when she finally kneels and feels the magic seep into her skin, Alysannyra knows she’s made the right choice. Let them talk, let them gawk. 

At least she’s not just a simple Lady Ainsaph anymore, even if the rebellion is as small as this. 

II

Lyssa’s Reliquary is a fucking maze. Shelves of stone that house both man and monster shaped horrors would be enough to disorient most people, and such feeling is only made worse by the little portals that pop up like zits in the most random fucking places. Nyra hates them the most, even though she’s trying to stay level headed in the face of illusions that remind her of all the bad things she’s done and all the blood on her hands. 

But portals don’t disorient her. The chaos of the reliquary only bothered her for mere seconds before she found the rhythm in this place and she’s been riding it ever since. Renira tries to keep up, visibly struggling. Nyra traverses the sacred space like she was born to do it, and maybe she was. Maybe at birth, Lyssa watched from wherever She is now and pointed Her clawed hand (because in Nyra’s mind, Lyssa’s hands have always been clawed) in her direction so she could pass through Her reliquary once she grew up. 

It’s a comforting thought, in a way. It’s the only comfort she has when she slices through a tortured, gruesome vision of Apatia, dead by Nyra’s own hand. It’s the sole thing keeping her sane when she falls through yet another portal to escape the grasp of an illusory Mordrem Trahearne. 

“Where to now? How do we get down?” Renira shouts, wiping sweat off her brow. She swallows when she looks down at the ground below, but it’s the only sign of distress she offers. Nyra’s getting just slightly better at reading her. Or maybe she just lets Nyra see. Her eyes, golden like a cat’s in the stifling, dark chaos around them, don’t betray anything but a grim determination. 

“I think I know the way down,” Nyra says. “It won’t end with us falling to our deaths, hopefully. I’m getting quite a feel for this place.” 

“Of course you are,” Renira replies. “You’re about as chaotic as this reliquary is.” She gives a small smile. “It suits you, after all.” 

“Ever the charmer, Sulver,” Nyra shakes her head. In another life, they might have developed a romance following their brief hookup in Ebonhawke years ago, and the thought of exploring this place with a lover sounds romantic until she remembers she killed her actual lover in Maguuma. Now, it's a flaring ache that makes her look away in shame. 

“You’re alright, Nyra,” Renira says, strangely gentle. She places a gloved hand on Nyra’s shoulder and though she can’t feel the comfort, she feels undeserving of such sentiment. She’s never really emoted well, but she supposes a lifetime of spying on people makes it easy to identify emotions, regardless of expression or lack thereof. 

Nyra shakes her hand off. “Let’s go,” she says. Renira simply nods. 

But before they can make a single step, a big voice booms in the wind. “That is, in fact, the correct way, Alysannyra Ainsaf! It’s taken you a lot less time than I’d anticipated, too.” 

Nyra’s heart sinks to her feet. She doesn’t need to see to know who it is - the goddess Herself, as much in the flesh as they come these days, and She sounds more than a little smug about it all. 

It takes her a moment to find her voice. “Hail, Lyssa,” she says loudly. A part of her hates how uncertain she sounds, but to make up for it, she turns to the direction of Lyssa's voice. She can’t see Her, of course; mortals can’t see gods. Nyra remembers the story of Malchor. She likes her ability to see, thank you very much. She remembers how anguished his ghost was, howling Dwayna’s name like an injured beast.

And maybe she’s like that, too, alive yet forced to walk with guilt and grief eating away at her spirit and her bones. Because she tried to jump into the sea below not that long ago. In Lyssa’s temple, her mind cruelly supplies and Nyra shivers beneath her armor.  

Can she even bear to look Lyssa in the eye now? 

“Formal,” Lyssa says. “There is no need, daughter. I think you’re right at home. Would you be so formal with your parents?” 

Nyra sits down. Renira watches, unsure of what to do, and she signals her to do the same. “If I’m at home, goddess,” Nyra says, “then I’m sure you won’t mind if I bring a guest?” 

“Your mesmer friend? She can stay. Her magic is in my domain, though her blessings are, funnily enough, not. What is your name, mesmer?” 

“Renira, goddess,” she says cautiously. 

“Illusory,” Lyssa replies. “Just like it should be.” 

Renira stiffens and digs her nails in her gloves, but her face remains calm. “Yes, goddess.” 

Nyra wants to ask what that is all about, but knows she needs to tread cautiously, too. Her head’s too exhausted and heavy for two mind games at once. Besides, she needs Renira as an ally here and she’s not stupid enough to risk it by asking questions like this. 

“Lyssa, I have a question,” Nyra says. She swears she can see the wind around them move to face her and tilt a little to the side in curiosity. “You invited me here in a dream. You spoke to me when you sensed that we were backed into a corner in our search, so it stands to reason that you know what we’re after. If I may, what information do you have on Balthazar’s whereabouts?” 

Lyssa’s laughter echoes like a thousand drums, and Nyra digs her clawed gauntlets into her thighs to not cover her ears. She can feel Renira looking at her, maybe bewildered, maybe with that ever present calm, but she doesn’t want to turn away now. A part of her knows she should be more humble, now that she has blood on her hands that will never go away as long as she’s alive, but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t answer that little voice in her head that slaps the notion away like a gnat. 

“Oh, you’re brave!” Lyssa says as laughter dies on Her windy lips. “Humanity hasn’t produced a person this fearless in a long, long while.” 

“That’s what happens when you have nothing to lose,” Nyra says. Her throat becomes tight and her eyes prickle with tears. “I tried to jump from Your temple not that long ago. I think I’ve earned the right to ask questions directly.” 

“I know you did,” Her voice becomes quieter. Of course She knows. “Your mind is still in chaos. It will be until your death. You placed any peace for yourself at the altar of glory long ago.” The wind blows forward, and a ghostly hand cups Nyra’s cheek. It’s cold and unsettling and it makes her skin crawl. She breathes out and closes her eyes tightly. Her heart feels like it wants to beat out of her chest. “Was it worth it?” 

Nyra’s quiet for a while. Tears slide down her skin, burning, yet the ghostly fingers wipe them away. She feels the heaviness of her armor, the tickling of her hair that was once a flag behind her and that now barely reaches her shoulders. Her shoulder aches from the fighting, her heart aches from the evil she’s done, all in the name of her own glory and this fucking world that she’s judged to be worthy of Trahearne’s life. She feels claws softly digging into the sweaty skin of her cheek, as sharp as the ones on her hands. 

Nyra tears light with them and makes it her own. If Lyssa draws blood, that too would belong to Nyra. 

Nyra opens her eyes. “Yes.” 

Lyssa runs a hand through her hair. “I’d hunt you down if you answered any differently,” She simply says. “I sent you that dream because I knew you would be able to stand up to Balthazar. You, daughter, and nobody else. You will either kill him or die trying.” She then lets go and Nyra catches her breath fully again, like a pressure has been lifted.

“I only need to track him down, then,” Nyra says, with a renewed fire in her chest. “So, tell me what you know, goddess.” 

III

She does find Balthazar in the end. These days, the memory of him doesn’t burn so painfully as it did at first. The scars he left on her arms and her legs and on the skin of her stomach and lower back remain hidden under clothes, but Nyra knows they’re there. 

She’s used to them, somehow. They’re her shrine to her heresy, after all. In her home chapel, his place is empty because she carries the reminder of him on her skin. And if she, in her grief-induced craze, had her way, she’d bring down every single statue of him in Tyria by hand. 

Let her be the only shrine he’ll ever have left, on a wartorn path to erase everything else. Sometimes, she remembers Lyssa asking her if it’s worth it. If she thought she knew pain then, when she stood before her goddess, she should’ve considered her answer a little more. 

But Nyra knows pain now. She knows the pain of grief, of loss, of a broken faith, and her answer remains the same. Gods have left Tyria, but this answer is the closest thing she has to a divine oath. 

It’s always worth it.

[i-mybrunettelady]

Ough Ren au where she's the lesbian count of Monte Cristo 🥺

[i-mybrunettelady]

Alrighty a nice little prompt OP

Slight spoilers for the whole game I guess?

Nyra changed a lot. First of all: her eyes are now purple due to Aurene. At first they just changed colour, but when Aurene ascended, they became muted too. She also had tons of hair length changes that I have to revamp but the gist is that the biggest one came when Balthazar burned her hair off during the Departing so it had to regrow. She also gained a shitton of scars - Mordy trying to kill her, Balty burns, etc.

Here’s an old template @uselessidiotsquad​ and i did a while back. It’s shitty but gives you a hint of the major ones. Count the smaller cuts and scrapes along the way too.

Sanne got a few minuscule scars (compared to Nyra) and a new neck tattoo in honour of a very great event in norn history aka Jormag dying.

Still undecided on El’s scars, but boy probably has some patches of darker bark due to burns before he made that spell that renders fire unable to touch him when he’s using it.

In-game, Ren changed her hairstyle, a bit of facial features and eye colour, but that’s canon anyway so there’s that. Liv also got shiny new hair a while back that I’m absolutely in love with :D

hey folks almost 10 years have passed since the start of the personal story in gw2, tell me about how your characters have physically/visually changed as time went on in tyria. not necessarily just actual in-game makeover changes, but also little headcanons (scars, wrinkles, a haircut u can't get ingame - whatever)