#she's taking it upon herself to educate the younglings

[chikoyama]

watching twilight | @2xcursekissed

She was giddy, mind buzzing with anticipation—

Watching a movie with her kohai had been rather high on her list of to-dos. So, when Chiyori finally got the chance to steal a few hours of Yuuta-kun’s time, and arrange a bit of a workaround in her own schedule for him, she was ecstatic to say the least.

Of course, it couldn’t just be any movie. It had to be Twilight, her favourite romantic movie of all time. She’d watched it on countless occasions by herself, but sharing the experience with someone — her kohai in this case — was always enjoyable. Special even.

“Yes, the title of it is Twilight, Yuuta-kun!” Chiyori informed rather enthusiastically while she let him examine the cover art. “Your senpai used to watch this all the time,” she added, smile stretching across her lips. She found it rather endearing that her kohai was being so ardent about it.

Though, after placing the popcorn and snacks on the coffee table, the older woman seized the case from the teenage boy’s hands to receive the disk inside to feed the DVD player. “Now, watch and learn, Yuuta-kun,” she said half teasingly, wielding a smirk. Her eyes sparkled as she waved the cover next to her head.

Aaah, there was so much her kohai had yet to experience! Once she noticed the production logo appear on screen, Chiyori got up from her crouched position. Gently snatching Yuuta-kun by the wrist, she eagerly lead him towards the couch to sit.

[antianakin]

I feel like fan reactions to Naboo and their elected monarch system and Padme's part in it is QUICKLY becoming as onerous as the way fans react to the Jedi and the Padawans.

"Naboo relies on children to run its government"

Does it though?

Two out of the four most canonical Naboo queens we've ever seen were fully adults as far as we can tell. Only Padme and Apailana are actually children, but Jamillia is very clearly adult and Neyutnee doesn't seem to be a child either. Padme makes a comment that obviously does tell us that she's not the first child queen nor the youngest queen ever elected, but this doesn't necessarily mean that Naboo REQUIRES its queens to be children or even that it PREDOMINANTLY elects child queens. As far as that quote tells us, Padme could literally be only the SECOND child queen ever elected. Just because she isn't the youngest ever doesn't mean there was any more than one other child queen elected before her and that one person happened to be elected younger than 14. That's just as accurate of a headcanon to make as the one that says that most queens are elected as children.

We also don't see children in any other positions of power during either TPM or TCW. The governor of Theed is clearly an older man, Palpatine is clearly an adult as the Senator (and Padme herself is an adult when SHE becomes the Senator), and there's nobody else that we ever see other than Padme and her handmaidens who is clearly a child in the scenes depicting Naboo's government. So it seems just a little unfair to claim that Naboo relies on children to run its government. EVEN IF we pretended that it only ever or mostly elected child queens, the vast majority of the people making political decisions appear to be adults still.

From a meta perspective, Naboo having child queens appears to be just another aspect of the message about the wisdom of children (note the clear foil between Padme and Palpatine as two politicians from the same planet, but she is the wise child and he is the corrupt adult). It comes up again in AOTC with Yoda asking the younglings to help Obi-Wan with his question about the missing planet and then saying that the mind of a child is wondrous. It's not some sort of hidden message about Naboo being a corrupt piece of shit hiding underneath natural beauty.

"Padme was raised to be a politician/child queen"

Was she though?

Her mother appears to be an educator and her father works in some sort of refugee organization, neither of them is a politician themselves nor are we ever told that they are, and in the deleted scenes from AOTC, we hear that they're actually not SUPER happy about Padme still being a politician because of how dangerous it is for her and would presumably prefer if she quit her job as a Senator and came back to Naboo to live a quieter life. This is an opinion they're so open about that Padme has to ask Anakin to lie about what he is and why he's traveling with her to try to keep her parents from getting anxious and when he chooses to reveal that information anyway, they instantly start talking about how much they don't like how dangerous Padme's job is. That doesn't sound like the kind of people who would've required or even encouraged Padme to go after a political job as a child. They clearly chose to SUPPORT her political interests early on, but that doesn't mean they RAISED HER with that expectation on her.

Padme appears to have chosen to become a politician and to campaign to be Queen all of her own free will and because she wanted to pursue that path for herself. Why do we need to take that agency away from her? Even if she says she believes she was too young for it and seems to regret the path she chose now that she's an adult, it doesn't mean it was FORCED upon her. The parallel between her and Anakin is RIGHT THERE, they both chose a career path that they believed was what they wanted, but the reality of it turned out to be something different than they thought and they both feel trapped within a cage of their own making. The whole point is that they can LEAVE this cage any time they want, that they made the choices that led them to where they are and they can MAKE DIFFERENT CHOICES if they want to, but some part of them clings to this path they're on rather than embrace the uncertainty of letting it go for something that could make them happier.

[aymayzing]

🪻💐!!

Thank you for the ask! And sorry it took me this long to answer, life got in the way

From this Rook ask game

🪻 What is the most painful injury your Rook has received? How has it affected them once it healed/scarred?

During the War of the Banners, Sotiris had his left wrist crushed. It was a pretty complex injury that damaged bones, muscles and nerves so it was very painful but his squad was deep in the Necropolis at the time, with no dedicated healer, so he only received medical attention once they made it back up. He got by on painkillers and some poultices to reduce the swelling until then. Of course, he was then properly treated. It took months for his wrist to heal fully and properly and he had to put a lot of effort into physical therapy (which, mind you, he had to keep up with while on the road with Varric and Harding). Still, even healed, the wrist acts up when it's used a lot which is... all of the game, really. It gets stiff or painful, his grip on his shield not as strong as it used to be.

💐 What is the relationship Rook has with their faction mentor? What was the moment they sent Rook away like?

Vorgoth: When Sotiris was a baby raised by the Mourn Watch, Vorgoth would always be around. The other Watchers weren't sure if it was an accident that Vorgoth always showed up where Ingellvar was playing or if they were doing it on purpose (they were doing it on purpose). And young Sotiris learnt quickly Vorgoth was at his beck and call, would play with him if asked, show him different parts of the Necropolis, tell him stories. Vorgoth enjoyed spending time with Sotiris, grew attached and at some point everyone in the Necropolis accepted that they are young Ingellvar's parent. And to not go to them when he needed to be disciplined, as they'd always find an excuse for him.

Myrna: I know in some datamined character description Myrna is said to be around 25 but I don't buy it! No, Myrna was a young doctorate student when Sotiris was beginning education and he ended up in her class (she needed extra points and was assigned a group of younglings to teach). And he was such a talented kid, he kept surprising and impressing her enough that she decided to take it upon herself to further his education and mentor him. This too, morphed into a sort of parent-child relationship. While Vorgoth is the permissive parent, Myrna is the one who pushes him to do more, do better, achieve his full potential. And reminds him to straighten his back.

As for sending him away after the War of the Banners - Myrna wasn't a fan of this but recognised it was the best solution both for Sotiris and the Mourn Watch. She is a positive, joyful person so she tried to spin the whole situation in a way that showed off its bright sides, encourage Sotiris and communicate her faith in him. Vorgoth was their usual self, vague and ominous, but gave Sotiris a bit more advice than usual, which suggests they were worried about sending him away. The two of them gave Sotiris a new gold bangle with Mourn Watch's sigil so he'd remember where he came from even far away from Nevarra.

[enokasolenne]

Enoka Solenne

Age: 27

Race: Au'ra - Xaela

Clan: several possibilities including Dotharl - investigation needed

Enoka, whose parents were simple farmers and hunters who had only one child. They were open minded and thought to welcome people to the steppe but not all would arrive in good faith. A merchant ship said to be bringing food and good to trade among the steppe worked their way around the different tribes but no word of their deeds had reached them until it was too late. A large group of strangely dressed men and women charged the tribe at night on the backs of chocobos, guns in their hands and swords on their belts. Many of them were killed swiftly by the men standing guard that night, but soon they were knocked down by bullets far deadlier than they had imagined... The ground soaked in the blood of elder Xaela men and women both, what was left was younglings, mostly too young to fight back. Blindfolded and bound by ropes they were marched for what seemed an eternity back to the trading ships bound for eorzea and it's black market.

Enoka found herself hobbled im the darkest corner of the boats underbelly feeling the ocean sway her insides as she ate and drank the scraps tossed to her. Not all her "siblings" made it to shore, for many the voyage was too long and some were made examples of when they tried to fight back... Many tribes were tossed together in the hull but she did little talking to them, staying quiet out of fear, and survival. There too were some Raen girls, valued more for their dainty looks and white scales, perhaps she was lucky to be Xaela for she might be spared their fate, only the gods knew what awaited them in eorzea.

On the isle of Vylbrand she was finally able to feel dry land beneath her feet, she found herself even more alone among strangers. Through several different parties she found herself in an orphanage of sorts, traded several times before being set off for adoption and service. Only 5 years old she found herself on the doorstep of a rather wealthy family who lived in the outer edge of La Noscea far from the watchful gaze of the city of Lominsa. The Master of the House, a Tall Black haired duskwight elezen and his Wife a blonde wildwood elezen of similar height had several adopted children who were of varrying ages all who were also elezen and then there was Her. Her name too hard to pronounce by their uncultured tongues replaced by a similar name, Enoka, Their last name bestowed upon her not as a gift of family but as a title of property, she was Enoka of house Solenne.

Until she came of age she was put through basic education so to be more pleasurable in basic conversation and to travel outside the house without suspicion, this lead her to enjoy learning and she would take up books whenever she could. She learned to play music and dance, somethings her master loved most that also brought her pleasure... But in the end he was still her master, a dark mysterious man who was enamored by her exoticness the moment she was free of childhood., And the moment he had no more obligations to his family. his wife having passed when Enoka was around 12, and the children now being grown he was a widower with wealth and status, and she was his...

He did not beat her often, but he did not love her sweetly either, and when the day was done, there was nothing he enjoyed more than her...she was used to this behavior, all her life she had been expected to be a secret symbol of status among the elite... A pet from a far away place only looked upon by those who valued her as a plaything, an object force to be of service. She knew this even when they let her play in the waters at Costa del sol during one of families outings. She knew this when they took her to Gridania to buy leathers from the guild, and they bought her a dress that her master picked. She knew this too when they paraded her around the backroom parties in her older years. She did not fear the men's looks upon her body, but she flinched at their touches, thier cold hard hands touching her scales, sometimes pulling her horns in curiosity.

The servent, a young woman named Jaela was sympathetic to Enokas lot, she too had been sold into service but in a different manner. She would rub Enokas Horns sometimes at night if she had been handled roughly, and she would give her food when the masters starved her for messing up. They were best friends for many years until the calamity came.

Enoka had been out that day and had returned home and was down in the wine cellar when the fires hit when the rocks rained down onto the ground, burning everything around. Her house splintered by rocks she found herself trapped beneath wood sand stone. She heard screaming all night, crashing explosion after explosion. The house shifting several times as areas around the plot of land was struck by debris. By the time the elder primal had been defeated, she had lost track of time and the house had completely buried her.

Working against time to clear the debris b

Before she lost most of the oxygen in the cellar she dug her way out finally making it to the surface many hours later. There was nothing for malms, everything was destroyed and everyone including he master was dead.

Enoka stood upon the burning pile of what was her life, she now stood alone again in the world... Free

[jasontoddiefor]

MTTT AU ft. Padmé in PJs eating take out aka Chapter 7: A Connection - Padmé

Padmé had known from the first moment on that a secret relationship wouldn’t be easy to manage, no matter how used she was to keeping quiet and handling too many duties at once.

All Anakin and she had were stolen moments in the shadows, here and there a few hours in her apartment, and maybe, if she got a little reckless again and had a stroke of luck, a shared mission.

Padmé missed her husband, she did, but they had chosen this fate themselves and now they had to carry its burden. Maybe once the war was over, something would change. They hadn’t talked about it yet, not really, there had never been the time for it. Not to mention, who wanted to think of the hassle that was people’s expectations of them when they could instead make the best they were given at the present. She dared to imagine soft afternoons on Naboo at times, when she was still in bed, sleep chasing her, but that was about it.

Maybe Anakin would leave the Order for her, maybe Padmé would… She didn’t even know what she could do. She just knew that it couldn’t go on like this, not until the end of time. She wanted to show Anakin off to her family, tell them what an amazing husband she had and she wanted to go dancing with him, have a meal at a fancy restaurant, and return to Naboo with him for at least the High Holy Days to watch the fireworks and put candles on the lakes.

But not right now, nothing was possible right now. They were at war and Padmé shouldn’t indulge in such flimsy dreams. Unfortunately, when she was close to Anakin, it was so easy to get lost in dreams.

Anakin wasn’t here right now, but weeks away, somewhere in the Outer Rim, fighting yet another endless battle whose victory never seemed to matter too much in the long run.

The more war reports she read and the more she fought in the Senate, the more convinced did Padmé become that they were sending the Jedi out to fight for nothing. The thought of losing Anakin to this senseless war made her stomach turn. Padmé worried about him constantly. She knew he was strong, the Republic hadn’t dubbed him its Hero with no Fear for nothing after all, but she knew better.

Anakin was afraid all the time, sometimes so much that it stopped him from speaking, left him haunted by nightmares he couldn’t shake.

When she asked about it, he quickly switched the topic.  Padmé knew that she ought to do better and get Anakin to talk to her, but she was only human and a relationship always required two people doing their best.

And it required that they actually had time to talk.

Padmé glanced at her datapad. Its screen was still dark, taunting her. It had been a month since Anakin’s last message. They tried to message each other as often as possible, exchanging I love yous coded into descriptions of flowers and ship parts. They had to be careful, could never say a word too much that could be used against them at a later date. Nobody was to discover their secrets and so Padmé spun lies upon lies to keep everybody unaware.

She wondered what lies Anakin told Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, and every other member of his Order. When the war had just started, Padmé hadn’t been too kind to the Jedi, thinking of their rules as strict and their prohibitions as arbitrary, but more and more she was coming to understand that there was a reason for it all.

You could not be a devout Jedi and pour everything into serving the Republic and then still give everything you have for a family outside of the Order. While it had taken her a while to realize it, Padmé could empathize with the sentiment. It was very much the same with her and her family. Each time they asked her to come home, Padmé still picked the Senate over them. She had a duty to the galaxy and if the price for it was this isolation from them, then she could bear it. She had her allies and friends here on Coruscant, her sisters in all but blood, and she had Anakin.

When he was there.

And actually replied to her message.

She hadn’t heard any great news about him or the 501st at large. As far as she was aware, they were still operating as always, running their missions and following orders. Anakin couldn’t be dead, the Republic would be in an uproar.

The thought was a bittersweet relief at least. She couldn’t even count the times she had thought Anakin dead on two hands anymore. He was always in so much danger – she constantly feared that today would be the day he wouldn’t return to her anymore.

If he died tomorrow, what were the last words they exchanged? The last kiss they had shared? Padmé didn’t want to think of herself as fair Veré, who thought of herself as the widow of Set who had gone to live amongst the stars long before her dear husband actually had.

She shook her head. She shouldn’t think so negatively. She had thousands of other things to worry about. New bills, the assassin that was after her and had somehow managed to poison her favorite dessert – she couldn’t spare more than one moment’s thought on the state of her husband.

She was never just Anakin Skywalker’s wife.

She didn’t want to be.

Padmé had always been a greedy child, though her parents had liked to call her ambitious instead. Padmé had wanted to do good and she had wanted to do it herself. She was unsure whether it was that she didn’t trust others enough for it or if a lothcat just couldn’t change its spots, but even when she let herself be distracted by sweet kisses, half her mind was somewhere else.

One of these days it was going to be too much.

Padmé stood up from her sofa, throwing another glance at her traitorous datapad before sighing, then she walked into the kitchen, searching for something edible after a long day. There she went to open her fridge, trying to find something good and fresh to eat, only to be severely disappointed. Her fridge was a sad and desolate space, stocked with only one take-out container and two fruits that were already starting to look moldy. Padmé vaguely recalled how well-stocked her fridge had been with delicacies from Naboo when she had started her term as a Senator. Imports from her homeworld had become extremely expensive.

Padmé was almost a little ashamed to admit she wouldn’t mind accepting one of Palpatine’s dinner proposals only to get her hands on one of the parfaits she used to stuff her mouth with as a kid.

Once Anakin was back, she’d get him to cook something for her. She hadn’t expected him to be good at it, but he was a surprisingly great cook. On the few days they had had on Naboo together after Geonosis, he had pretty much taken over the kitchen within minutes of seeing her attempt at cutting an onion. He had still required her presence and aid at times, unused to his new prosthetic, but even then he had given her instructions on how to properly cut vegetables and fruits. Padmé had never been someone for cooking, it was a trouble and she had never had the time to learn. Perhaps she should start to, people did say that stress baking helped, though she wouldn’t know where to fit a cooking class into her busy schedule.

In the end, Padmé grabbed the take-out box from Dex’s – her new favorite place to order food at – and warmed it up. After it was done, she considered putting the contents of the box on a plate to make it look like she had put at least some effort into the meal. Demotivated she looked at the white container. If she grabbed a plate, she’d just have to clean that as well and there was no point to it if it was really just her. Padmé fished a fork out of her drawer and walked back to her living room. She didn’t even bother sitting down at her dinner table and instead got comfortable on her couch. What a mighty picture she made, former Queen of Naboo, slouching on her sofa, eating takeout in her PJs like an overworked university student.

Not that Padmé really knew what university life was like. Her handmaidens and she had been educated by private tutors who had given them an extensive overview in whatever subjects they needed or desired. As Padmé dug into her food, she considered whether the time she had needed to read up on archeology digs on Archeron Prime 2 in five minutes because nobody else had wanted to deal with ancient sites conversation and so had dumped it on her, had been similar enough to the common student experience.

Padmé was contemplating turning on a holomovie when finally, after weeks, her datapad chimed with a light ringtone, one she had assigned only to one person.

As quickly as possible, she shoved her food off her legs and reached for datapad. She hadn’t even swallowed her food completely when she hit the accept for the incoming call. Finally, Anakin had had the time to call her. She had so much she wanted to tell him-

“Senator Amidala?”

Padmé stared at the small blue hologram that very much did not depict her husband, but instead his young and small Padawan, looking as exhausted as Padmé felt.

Suddenly, Padmé became all too aware of her looks.

She took pride in her dresses, it was part of Naboo custom and one’s appearance in the public sphere was immensely important. She didn’t exactly look like a dedicated politician right now.

“Padawan Tano,” Padmé greeted Ahsoka, hoping her formal tone could save the situation at least a little. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to answer.”

Inwardly, Padmé cringed. Great, of course, she had to imply that she had thought she could answer Anakin’s call dressed like this. The day was just getting better and better. She couldn’t wait for it to be over.

If Ahsoka had anything to say about the way Padmé dressed, she didn’t let it show.

“I know, I’m sorry for calling you at this hour from my Master’s device, I wanted to talk to you and I didn’t have your number,” the youngling sounded like she was honestly sorry about it.

Padmé’s face softened. “There’s nothing to forgive, Ahsoka. Tell me, why are you calling me? You know I will never mind a call from you.”

“I- thank you. I’m calling about my Master.”

Ahsoka bit her lip and Padmé’s heartbeat sped up.

Oh no. Had Anakin said something? Had Ahsoka discovered their relationship? A thousand thoughts ran through her mind. This was the precise reason they were keeping it a secret still. Padmé couldn’t afford a scandal, Anakin needed to fight and they couldn’t put their friends between their duties and keeping their secret.

Well, Padmé should have known even their luck had to run out sometime.

“Ahsoka, look-“

“Did my master say anything to you before our battle on Temetha last month?” Asoka suddenly blurted out. “Anything strange? Weird? Bad?”

Their battle on-

Yes, Padmé remembered it. She had kept a keen eye on that one. It had been bound to be a difficult one according to the reports and it had also been the last major battle that Anakin had actively fought in as far as the news had been concerned. Ever since he had been on radio silence between her and Anakin. Nothing new of course, but she had still felt like something was going on behind the scenes.

“No,” Padmé said. “Nothing. Anakin and I had just talked about…”

Padmé grimaced. She was almost embarrassed to say that they had chatted about cheap romance novels and even worse holomovies. It had been such a dumb and random topic, childish almost, but it had occurred to her that she had no idea what kind of stories Anakin liked and enjoyed in his free time. They had decided to do a movie marathon the next time he was back on Coruscant, despite the fact that he desperately needed the time to recover and sleep, not spend hours awake with her.

“We talked about nothing really, just hobbies,” Padmé said. “Why? Did something happen?”

Ahsoka’s expression darkened.

“I shouldn’t be telling you this,” she started slowly.

Padmé contemplated stopping Ahsoka right then and there. The poor teenager was going through enough, Padmé shouldn’t use her distress to her own gain, but where else was she going to get information about Anakin?

“Did something happen to Anakin?”

Ahsoka hesitated, her eyes darted to somewhere in her room that Padmé couldn’t see.

“He was injured in the aftermath of the battle,” Ahsoka revealed. “And I don’t know how. The machines say he’s fine.”

The machines. What machines? Had it been vital? Was he comatose? Was that the reason she hadn’t heard a word from him, was the army keeping it under wraps as to not cause distress? What other secrets were they hiding-

Padmé’s growing panic must have shown on her face as Ahsoka reassured her quickly.

“He’s fine now! Or as fine as he can be at least. He won’t talk to me about anything anymore. Obi-Wan’s training me right now too because Anakin can’t.”

Padmé’s thoughts traveled to those days on Naboo in the aftermath of Geonosis. Anakin’s hadn’t been given the time he needed to recover properly and get used to his new prosthetic before he’d been sent out to fight in the front and yet, somehow, he was one of their strongest fighters. Had he lost another limb? How many weeks would they give him off this time if it had already been a month?

“I just thought you might know something,” Ahsoka finally finished. “Master Skywalker speaks very highly of you, you’re friends?”

“Very close friends, yes,” Pamdé told Ahsoka. “We met when we were just children. Anakin helped my planet considerably at the time.”

“Really?” Ahsoka asked, light returning to her eyes.

Perhaps Padmé would have to call Obi-Wan later, or see if she could get someone to tell her what was truly going on with the 501st.

Until then she had a Padawan to calm down.

“I can’t believe Anakin never shared this story with you. Let me tell you all about it,” Padmé said. “I was 14 and had been elected the Queen of Naboo…”

Padmé ended up talking for hours or so it felt like, much longer than she did with Anakin as he hardly had the time for it. When Padmé was done talking about her and Anakin’s first meeting and the consequent fight with the Trade Federation, she began regaling Ahsoka with more stories about her term as a queen. By the time the Padawan had to go again, Ahsoka was still bothered by her worry for her master, but at least she was smiling again.

Padmé ended the call and took a deep breath. She looked at her now cold dinner and the dark night sky.

Then she stood up and got to work.

[capricornus-rex]

Two Sides of the Coin (14)

Chapter 14: First Conscious Moments | Jidné Sheedra x Cal Kestis

Summary: Hell-bent on exacting revenge and retrieving the Holocron, the dreaded Darth Vader is now on the hunt for the young Jedi Knight, Cal Kestis. Under the assumption that he still possessed the artifact, while fueled by the intrigue of the boy’s strength and skill with the Force, the dark lord hires the bounty hunter, Jidné Sheedra, to track him down and have him delivered alive. However, the task becomes a trial for young Jidné, as she faces a conflict that tests her beliefs of a scarred past she had hidden for so long.

Also tagging @berenilion @silver-is-in-too-many-fandoms @justtinfoley @stellar-trinity @justtinfoley @peterwandaparker @justtinfoley @superwarsofthrones @queen-destenie @calgasm @cal-jestis @ayamenimthiriel @calsponchoemporium @sweeetteaa @fallenjedii​

Also in AO3

Tags: Fem OC, Jidné Sheedra, Force-Sensitive! Fem OC, Bounty Hunter! Fem OC, Jedi! Fem OC | Special tags for this chapter: Youngling! Jidné Sheedra, Nomara Anesh, Jedi Master! Fem OC, Togruta! Fem OC,

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 – 9 – 10 – 11 – 12 | Previous: Part 13 | Next: Part 15 | Masterlist

14 of ?

JEDI TEMPLE, CORUSCANT

Nomara has returned to Coruscant with little Jidné along. Never has she ever been this careful, ignoring the ache of her arm as she held the swaddled child while her free hand steered her ship—with the partial assistance of Evy—until she landed on the east bay of the Jedi Temple. Nomara marched towards the main entrance of the grand temple while shielding the baby with her other wide sleeve, worried that the unusually strong wind might prick her little eyes.

Upon her entry to the temple, she was greeted by Master Yoda, the little sage being waddled with the aid of his cane. The green Jedi noticed the precious cargo in the Togruta’s arm.

“Back so soon, are you, Master Anesh,”

Nomara bowed curtly in return, “I’ve been only gone for a day and a half, Master Yoda,”

Yoda took notice of the swaddled bundle in the Togruta’s arm a second time. A weak smile managed upon his ancient face.

“Something precious with you, you seem to have brought, hmmm?”

An eager grin stretched upon the young Togruta’s face, she knelt down to his level, and then unfurled a portion of the swaddle that covered Jidné’s face. The child cooed at the sight of Master Yoda’s face—curious and delighted at the same time—the old master chuckled while being in the presence of something so small yet seemingly strong.

Yoda inquired about the child’s origin planet, Nomara indulged the old master with the goings on in Eshyn, he expressed his awareness of the planet’s state as he was also informed during council meetings.

“I swore to her mother that she’ll be taken care of,” Nomara reiterated.

“I understand. Trained and cared for, she will be. A good Jedi, she will grow into.”

Upon those final words, Nomara glanced on Jidné again; she afforded a hopeful look at the child’s face and she was greeted with an infectious, angelic smile—the young Togruta wholeheartedly agreed with the elderly master, she could almost imagine Jidné growing up as a Padawna and then a Knight.

When Yoda offered to summon the caretakers, Nomara politely refused and insisted she deliver Jidné to the children’s ward herself. Yoda caved, they ended up walking together to their destination, bowing to greet those whoever comes in their way.

Nomara was pretty sure that she had sensed it: Yoda’s cautious examination of how she behaved towards him regarding Jidné. Attachment was forbidden to the Jedi, since time immemorial that has been one of the primary lessons embedded into younglings’ minds the moment they can comprehend words. However, Nomara’s notion differed from the Council’s, stemming from the like-mindedness of her master, Loriq Caius—he was more inclined to learning the ways of the “Living Force,” an ideology that he and Master Qui Gon Jinn shared and often find one another in concurrence.

Upon their arrival of the children’s ward, a caretaker slowly approaches the Jedi with the child in hand and transfers Jidné into her arms; for a moment, the baby squirmed and cooed a worried tone to which Nomara quickly hushed softly, comforting the child before being held by someone else. Shortly after the separation, Master Caius himself enters the ward.

“Master Caius!” the Togruta exclaimed.

“I heard news that Nomara has returned quite so soon—with a youngling at that—I just wanted to check on my old apprentice,”

“I’m well, Master. And you?”

“Likewise,” Caius leisurely answered.

The banter was abruptly cut off because Jidné’s fussing had caught all of those in the ward, all heads turned to the child. Loriq got the hint. He examined the child who’s settled in that tiny pod of a bassinet while being bottle-fed. From where he stood, he can sense the Force rippling out of the child in an overwhelming magnitude that it’s unusual to see it from one so tenderly young; he rubbed his bearded chin as he joined the others’ observation of the toddler.

The caretaker approached the Jedi.

“With all due respect, Jedi, it is time for the children’s midday slumber. May I request you to exit the ward?”

The three Jedi obliged and bowed at the caretaker who returned the gesture. The room dimmed as soon as they left the room. Yoda excused himself and went the other way; Nomara was now left with her master by the door.

Ever since Loriq saw the child in the nursery and felt her Force ripple, he sensed something else—from Nomara. It’s as if the amount of Force that Jidné exuded, Nomara’s body—although unconsciously—repeats it, like soundwaves resonating with one another. Before the Togruta could walk away, the master gently tapped her shoulder.

“Nomara, do you have a moment?”

Promptly, the Togruta turned around and faced her master. Standing close to Loriq, she never realized that she was nearly as tall as him, with her montrals boosting her height just three inches more until its tips go past his head—memories of her youth reminded her of how she always had to tilt her head in order to look at him in the eye, but now that she’s grown, she didn’t need to take a pace backwards to see him eye-to-eye.

“Something on your mind, Master?”

“You sense something within the child,”

“Yes, the Force is strong with her that… just by looking at her, it’s overwhelming,”

“In addition to that, Nomara, I’m sure you’ve sensed it as well,”

The former, now-grown apprentice doesn’t follow. She pulled her eyebrows together, shooting a puzzled look at her master and wordlessly asking him to elaborate. Loriq decided to rephrase himself, he shifted and began to walk, Nomara followed by his side as they spoke

“I’d like you to recollect your feelings when you saw the child,” Loriq craned his head to Nomara, who kept her eyes ahead. “Search your feelings.”

Eventually, Nomara narrated everything that she saw in Eshyn—beginning with her meeting with Sentuk until taking Jidné with her, as well as what she felt from the little girl. She explains the feeling as a closeness of sorts, as though the pure feeling always finds its way to her, and then she’d resonate with the child—this occurred constantly ever since she and Jidné touched hands upon meeting.

“It’s only natural for two Force-sensitive to have a sort of connection, however, the difference is that connection grows over time. As for you—and Jidné, I suppose—it’s different, unusual even. The ripple is strong, perhaps the better would be ‘current’ given the magnitude of your Force energies’ convergence.”

“I’m not sure if I’m accurate, but are you implying that two Force-individuals may already forge a connection despite how briefly they just met? Do their energies bounce back one another, like a wave?”

“Perhaps. Whichever it is, it’s a rare Force-sensitive trait. I might have to meditate on it soon,”

The sage Jedi Master stopped walking in place, they ended up standing by the tall window overlooking the city and continued their conversation there with enough privacy. Loriq read Nomara’s silence as an eagerness to watch over the child, given that the first chain links of their bond have already closed. Instead of dismissing the gradual attachment between his apprentice and the youngling, he encouraged her with an open mind.

“The Force is telling you something about and through this child, Nomara. I implore you to allow your insights to serve you well, as I have taught you,”

“I’ll keep in mind, Master,”

——————————————————–

26 BBY

Over the years, Nomara has become a frequent audience member in the arena where the younglings—the prospective Initiates and Padawans—undergo their formal training and education. A single session is equally distributed between typical classroom lectures and application, the latter being the children’s favorite part. The Togruta always keeps a watchful eye on Jidné from the stands, but kept herself subtle; she’d often find herself in the company of the other masters—even the members of the Council themselves—as they observed the children from a distance.

Jidné, now seven years old, has made friends with the male Nautolan named Brese, and another human female, Leane. Each child was just one year apart from the other—but Jidné was the one in the middle—the small age gap made it much easier for them to get along. Master Tera Sinube was today’s proctor, he stood at the center of a ring of excited children who couldn’t stay still with their practice sabers in hand.

Tera Sinube tapped the floor with the end of his cane, “Youngling, younglings! Settle.”

The murmurs of the children died down, allowing Master Sinube to begin his session. He briefed them about the practical application of today’s lecture: performing basic lightsaber stances while balancing their dependence on the Force. Everyone in the chamber sensed some of the children’s gradual anxiety, it felt like too big a task for them to juggle between two abilities—one physically, and mentally for the other—including Jidné and her friends.

“Now, now,” Sinube hushed. “I understand that it may sound and look difficult, but remember: if you let the Force guide you, it will come to each and every one of you like second nature. As easy as breathing, if I may so!”

Sinube decided to encourage the class with a volunteer, when nobody stepped forward after twenty seconds have passed, the old proctor decided to find one himself. He followed the line that the children formed, some of them followed him with their heads or eyes while the others stared blankly straight into random portions of the room to avoid eye contact. While the search for a volunteer continued, the Jedi Knights Mace Windu and Shaak Ti stopped by to do some observing as well.

“Master Windu, Master Ti,” acknowledged Nomara.

Her greeting was returned by the two knights. Shaak Ti stood closer to her fellow Togruta by the stands—they were very alike physically, but their unique markings and clothes distinguished one from the other—they watched the session take place by the rails. The Jedi Master asked Nomara what’s already transpiring, the younger Togruta was happy to fill her in with the details.

Windu, on the other hand, stood by the banister though at a few inches away from the pair. His perpetually-furrowed eyebrows looked upon the gathered children surrounding the single proctor, he watched the older Jedi below circle the group of children with crossed arms and a curious scowl.

“Jidné?”

Despite Master Sinube’s gentle tone, the girl was still startled by the mention of her name. She looked to her friends and they subtly bobbed their heads, prompting her to move. She had no choice but to step forward, both hands clutched around the practice saber’s sleeve; Jidné’s nervous eyes found Tera Sinube returning to the center of the circle, patiently waiting as he leaned on his cane for support, then her gaze panned left and right, and then up and down—searching for some sort of visual signal to calm herself.

Her eyes found a pair of near-identical Togrutas standing next to each other at the stands, but her eyes focused on the one whose montrals had indigo patches snaking along the tapering, white tendrils. Somehow, she recognized that Togruta, and all of a sudden, the queasy stomach she had disappeared.

“Jidné, are you ready?” Sinube checked.

“Yes, Master Sinube,”

“Very good. Now, take your saber and put yourself in a stance, any stance,”

The little girl took a deep breath before buckling her knees and holding her saber in a defensive stance. The old Jedi commended the child. Moments later, he summoned an older child, a blond boy whose age may play along the line of twelve or thirteen—with a single glance of the thin braid hanging behind his ear, everyone knew that he was a Padawan.

“Alright, let’s do some light sparring—while keeping in mind the lessons we learned today,” Sinube placed his hand on the blond boy’s shoulder and gently shepherded him to the spot where he stands. “Paz, you may begin with Jidné here.”

“You ready, Jidné?” Paz checked before positioning himself in a stance.

The little girl nodded, following the words of the lecture and then putting it to play. At the first few seconds of the spar, Jidné anticipated the bigger kid’s attack—she got lucky by evading Paz’s lunge by deflecting his strike, holding for a few seconds, and then pull away to recompose herself for the next attack.

This was only the beginning. Janky strikes between the two children filled the room with the blinding lights of the sabers once clashed, both Jidné and Paz with a novice’s footwork before trading strikes; the other younglings who stood close in the action as the two sparred gave way and then returned when they’ve gotten farther.

As the sparring continued, Nomara brings her chin between her two fingers as she watches the action below ensue—it’s evident she was on edge just by spectating from the stands. The other Togruta dismissed the young Seeker’s mannerism as intrigue—as one would when observing something energetic. As for Master Windu, ever so direct of a man, took note of this too, but didn’t come as gently as Shaak Ti does.

“You seem to have your eye on that girl over there,” Mace Windu points out.

“It’s because I was the one who discovered her,” Nomara spoke with a degree of pride, her private smile was just one inch shy of being a grin.

Jidné eventually came to a point where she used a little bit of the Force out of impulse—outstretching her open hand at him caused him to stagger a few paces back from her. When she succeeded, she bought the opportunity to deliver a flurry of blows; it invigorated her when she pulled off a spinning deflect—a heat of the moment sort of thing, despite being a basic spin—which denied Paz a hit on her when he thought he found a window of opportunity.

The other masters continued their observation, Jidné and Paz’s sparring passively encouraged the other children. It concluded when both children had each other at swordpoint—their sabers hovering mere inches above the shoulder. Jidné and Paz quickly retracted their sabers and bowed while facing each other, a customary greeting amongst the Jedi, old and young alike. Tera Sinube hushed the excited children squirming in place and commanded them to settle down, promising them their own chance to spar.

Jidné and Paz were allowed to catch a breather while the other children prepare themselves, Tera Sinube briefly lectured the children again—reminding them of the practicalities of the assignment so as not allow the excitement cloud their senses. While waiting, the little girl surveyed the stands above them, she angled her head where she spotted the Togrutas together and searched for the one with the particular montral pattern.

There you are… Jidné thought, fixating her eyes on the younger-looking Togruta.

Nomara sensed Jidné’s gaze piercing her, she slightly craned her head to the side where the girl and boy sat and waited. Despite their distance from one another, the Togruta flashed a small smile as her eyes met with the girl’s once more.

[kethaar]

( sonam kapoor, 35 years old, cis woman, she/her ) —— don’t shoot! that’s KETHA KHAAR! they’ve found themselves in the outer rim, most often on TAKODANA. they’re known to be METICULOUS and PATIENT but bad days can find them being OVERLY CRITICAL and OVERWORKED. it’s thought that the COLONIST is working as a COMBAT MEDIC but seeing as they only have 400 CREDITS to their name, who knows really? 

the khaar’s are a wealthy, dignified family back on coruscant. they come from a line of private medics that work under the empire’s thumb. simply put, a career that pays exceptionally well. 

as a youngling, ketha did not think much of the actions of her parents. she didn’t wonder where her elegant tunics came from nor why they were able to live so comfortably. she was accustomed to high class events and private academies. 

the khaar’s were very doting, loving parents. a picture perfect family.

her childhood was very sheltered. it wasn’t until years passed and her schooling took her to other planets did she learn how vastly different some people lived. it was a culture shock to say the least. when she came back, she’d bombard her parents with questions, but they’d reply with “that’s just the way things are, dear. it’s the balance of life.” suffice to say, she was not satisfied by their response. “that doesn’t explain anything,” she’d rebute. however, she was still a young girl, and it was almost too easy for her to be dismissed.

ketha was a bit of a bookworm as a child, eager to learn, and discovering new planets made her want to learn more about them. she believes that in another life she would be an explorer. you see, she is wanderlust by nature. 

if you are a born a khaar, you must be a doctor. it was something ingrained into her from birth. she didn’t mind the career path and went through the proper education required, so long as she could make her parents proud. she even managed to open an office in the capital. 

her contact with the empire was minimal as it was her parents that worked directly for them. they didn’t need another khaar medic on hand, so she didn’t move from the capital. regardless, it wasn’t frowned upon to work with them where she was from. if anything, working against the empire would get you exiled. 

everything changed the night alderaan and jedha’s holy city were destroyed by the death star. she was resting peacefully in bed, but soon the ringing of her comlink would rouse her. it was her mother, requesting ketha come aid them, her father shouting orders in the background. there were too many wounded and not enough doctors. 

the medic got ready in no time while her secretary fetched her a ship. what she saw when she got there-- she hopes to never see those horrors again. 

ketha was an exceptional surgeon, but there were too many. it was difficult to distinct who was who, what body parts were missing, and if there was any hope in the situation. she must have gone through five tents of wounded troopers before stumbling upon her father. there was only one wounded man in this tent, amongst him, her father, and an imperial officer. ketha ran to the hurt man on instinct, quickly giving out orders to what she’d need. however, no one moved. her confusion dissipated when she’d glance down to finally take in the rebel attire. they wanted to let this man die.

as if on auto pilot, ketha got up and started grabbing the tools she’d need herself. she was a medic for goodness sake. her father grabbed her by the arm as the other watched, she’d shake him off, and scream “let go of me!” 

at the same time, the officer would pull out a blaster, and end the rebel’s life. ketha stood frozen as the man finally spoke, “i could hold you in contempt for that, but i won’t. we require your medical attention tonight and your family has been an asset to the empire. do not make this mistake again, i won’t be so forthcoming. doctor khaar, lovely to see you as always.” he nods one last time to mr. khaar before leaving, the situation had taken up too much of his time, and other matters were more pressing.

she threw up almost immediately after and barely remembers her father’s voice telling her to get it together. ketha didn’t see her parents for the rest of the night, too busy tending to the wounded, and purposely avoiding them. she had run out that tent without another word to her father and gotten to work. it would be one of the most difficult nights of her life and it had only begun. 

as soon as she was in the safety of her room, she'd break down. her whole world turned upside down, but she knew she could no longer do this. she was living a lie fed to her by her family. 

for once in her life, she made a decision for herself, and that was to leave coruscant immediately. she left with no goodbye’s, unable to stomach seeing her parents. they’d find her note eventually.

she felt passionate in her choice. she would travel planet to planet and aid everyone. along her travels, she’d learn more of the true rebel cause, not the lies she’d been told growing up.

she’s located in takadona currently working as a combat medic, but she has extensive knowledge to treat just about any wound. 

ketha is picky, sentimental, and a know-it-all sometimes. she’s a bit of a control freak if i’m being honest, a hard worker ( to the point where she’ll sleep at work ), and competitive. STUBBORN. 

connections i’d like to see for ketha are fellow student from her youth ( maybe they were rivals or childhood friends that split up ) an explorer/scholar friendship perhaps? ( i think she could listen to them speak for hours as she loves learning just about anything ) a friend who's always in need of patch work ( they can tease each other “you’re obsessed with me” “me?! you’re the one who keeps coming to me with your messes! ) a friend who is the complete opposite of her ( imagine smol and tol type ) a friend from a past planet she has visited ? ( unlike my other characters she is very easy to make friends with lmao )

[politicalmamaduck]

So, I hope this is something meaty enough for you to sink your teeth into: historical AU, mysterious Byronic anti-hero Ben Solo with innocent (but not as innocent as she seems) Rey. Gothic romance vibes. Basically, the Jane Eyre (2011) soundtrack - YouTube/watch?v=KwScERaAqSU

I truly and honestly don’t remember how long it’s been since you sent me this prompt, my dear @luminoustico, but I hope the wait will have been worth it, for you provided the original inspiration for my Jane Eyre AU for this year’s @reylofanfictionanthology, Amid Secrets and Monsters.

As always, a huge thank you to my beta boo @rapturousaurora and to my RFFA mod editor sisters, @shmisolo and @shelikespretties.

This is not a strict adaptation of Jane Eyre, unlike all of my Reylo Austen AUs, as there is no “madwoman in the attic”; instead, Snoke lives in Ben and Rey’s manor wing, and rather than a governess to a ward, Rey is a companion for Leia. I wanted to emphasize the psychological horror of war regarding Ben as a veteran with PTSD and Snoke’s abuse in this fic, as a more modern-day twist on the Gothic tale we all know and love.

Read it on AO3 here.

you transfix me quite

It was as if a great shadow had descended upon Aldera Hall. Queer tales were told in the nearby village of strange happenings at night and bloodsoaked sheets that even the most skilled and robust laundresses could not wash out. Ghosts were said to wander the broad Yorkshire moors. These tales were once scoffed at by the hearty villagers, but they had gained currency of late. The ancient house was said to be haunted; not just by the spectres of the past, souls that had not yet gone on to rest, but by the sins of the present and wounds that could not be properly healed.

The manor’s mistress, the great Lady Organa, Duchess of Alderaan, was away on the Continent, leaving the management of her ancestral lands to her son, Benjamin Solo, a decorated officer in his own right after abandoning his studies at Oxford to find his fame fighting in his uncle’s regiment against Napoleon. The village parson remembered the great lady’s soul in his prayers each day, and exhorted the villagers to pray for her and her family at each Sunday service.

It was rumored that the Duchess’s brother and son had a disastrous falling out, and that young Ben Solo had returned from the wars not quite himself, with another commanding officer in tow. This mysterious elder gentleman called Snoke was never seen in the village, but Ben Solo generously allowed him to remain at Aldera Hall.

“I do wish Lord Skywalker would return from the islands,” many in the village would say, only to be reminded by their compatriots of the enmity existing between the wise old soldier and the mysterious figure who had so taken Lord Solo under his sway. Many whispered further that Lord Snoke was the cause of the supposed hauntings, that he performed gruesome experiments on wounded soldiers during the war, or that he himself was a ghost, a spectre of evil come back for revenge.

The two bachelors lived alone amidst the ghosts and tragedies of years gone by, it was said, until Lady Organa returned from Paris, declaring herself retired, and her son placed an advertisement for a genteel lady companion for his mother. His father General Solo had gone to a watery grave in the Atlantic, God rest his soul.

Ben Solo’s advertisement seeking a suitable companion, or secretary, perhaps, for Lady Organa was answered by a Miss Rey Johnson from Lancashire. She had been well-trained as a teacher and governess at the Lowood School in that county. She described herself as a hard worker, she could speak French, and her lack of familial entanglements was looked upon favorably by her prospective employer. Prior to her education, she came from an orphanage maintained by Mr. Unkar Plutt, who by all accounts was a strict master who often sent the younglings out as hired help.

The young lady’s arrival in the village was greatly anticipated by all, many of the old matrons remembering her in their silent prayers at the local church on Sunday mornings. A young lady would do the old house—and family—some good, they thought. Perhaps the rumors were just that after all, they reassured themselves while they made the Sign of the Cross and looked over their shoulders. Tall tales and queer happenings were nothing compared to the modern age, or the Continental war with its own set of horrors caused by the Emperor.

There were others in the village, however, who took it upon themselves to warn the young lady when she arrived. “The Skywalker family, from whom Lady Organa and her son are descended, had a history of extreme and violent behavior,” a wizened old crone told the governess, clasping her arm. “They’ve all been powerful, and brilliant, yes, and good-looking, but take care, miss. Something’s not quite right up in that old house. Lord Solo hasn’t been the same since he came back from the war with that older fellow.”

Rey smiled graciously, and thanked the woman for her concerns, but put those thoughts far from her mind as she hurried along to meet her new employers.

Lady Organa received Ms. Johnson warmly, welcoming her to Aldera Hall and reassuring her that she was free to explore the entirety of the house and grounds and make herself comfortable, save the wing occupied by Lord Snoke, about whom Lady Organa would say no more. In reply, Rey thanked her and urged her to call her simply Rey, as they would live and work on intimate terms from then forward. Having not grown up with courtly manners, her given name always felt more natural to her, and it was far better than being called simply ‘girl’ by her harsh former master.

And so Rey settled into her days at Aldera Hall, grateful for the support of a genteel noblewoman and an opportunity to build her own life, though her own shadows and ghosts haunted her, as well. The loss of her parents weighed upon her heart and soul; though she knew they were gone to their graves, God rest their souls, she still longed for a family in which to belong, and eagerly hoped that she could build a life for herself in Yorkshire.

It was initially difficult for Rey to converse with Lord Solo; he was scarcely human before a morning cup of tea, and often spent long hours wandering the grounds of his estate. He hacked away at dead trees and bushes with an ancient sword that dated back to the time of the Conqueror, with a unique hilt from which two more blades protruded.

It was Rey’s understanding that many young gentlemen who returned from the war on the Continent bore scars both physical and mental. It seemed Mr. Solo was one such; she could hear him crying out in the middle of the night, caught in yet another nightmare. He often suffered from migraines, rendering him incapable of leaving his canopied bed, the heavy draperies on both the bed and the large window panes drawn tightly shut to prevent the sun’s assault on his weakened state.

It was a horror, one that a country governess, now companion, could not comprehend, though she knew all too well the horrors of the orphanage. Her education and training was her sole pursuit and escape until she gained meaningful employment; her heart would never be entirely full, however, for the loss of her family and the abuse she endured at the hands of a harsh master.

And so she smiled over breakfast while her recalcitrant employer sipped his tea and slowly returned to the land of the living and the light. She offered her opinion when asked, and sought only to improve her employer’s disposition and situation by kindness and compassion. He seemed intrigued by her many drawings, often sketches of the surrounding countryside, or of his mother’s profile while she read or answered her voluminous correspondence. Despite his demeanor, she found Ben Solo to be a respectful employer and an intriguing study for her drawing pencil.

She spent her days often reading aloud to the Lady Organa, who had been a great peer of the realm in her own right. She was wise, kind, and the sort of woman who could converse with anyone. Rey found herself smiling more often than not, certainly more than she ever had before, at Lady Organa’s wry observations and indomitable spirit.

To Rey, Lady Organa became the surrogate mother she never had and for which she had always longed, yet Rey knew in her heart of hearts that her own mother had been no great lady, no astute woman of politics, nothing as compared to the kind, noble being who sat next to her before the fire and offered her the finest tea each day.

The house’s west wing was occupied by Lord Snoke, Ben’s commanding officer. The Lady Organa and Lord Snoke did not acknowledge each other; it seemed often to Rey that her employer’s mother resented the interloper’s influence over her son, though she would not deign to say so in her presence. Indeed, Rey feared the old man; when he walked, he towered over her. His height approached seven feet, and he cast a heavy shadow and a loud gait wherever he went. When he appeared, it seemed as though the temperature in the room would grow colder. Lord Snoke was haughty and condescending in his demeanor; he never called Rey familiarly by her given name, nor respectfully as ‘Miss Johnson’, but only referred to her as ‘child.’ His words were cruel and harsh, and never complimentary, whether of the meals their cook dutifully prepared for them or of Lord Solo and Lady Organa’s efforts to improve the estate. He was dismissive of her and the servants, and so she avoided him, as did Lady Organa; the two were never seen in the same room together.

Spring turned to summer, and summer to autumn, and Rey enjoyed her peaceful life at Aldera Hall, interrupted only by the rumors of ghosts and Ben Solo’s mood swings, which were more pronounced after long training sessions or meetings with Lord Snoke. The two could remain closeted for hours, pouring over maps and charts, or history books related to various military campaigns. When the weather was fine, they were also often out of doors, seemingly practicing readiness or drills for a war long since ended.

It was also after these long sessions that the laundresses spent longer days toiling at their task, the water dripping red and staining their hands, and the dark shadows languishing under Lord Solo’s eyes appeared more like bruises. 

Over tea one morning, after the lords had drilled for hours out of doors the previous day and Rey overheard a laundress bemoaning the state of Lord Solo’s clothes, Rey mentioned to Lady Organa that to her, young Lord Solo seemed quite changeful and abrupt.

“He was such even as a child,” the lady replied, “though Snoke’s influence has made his short temper even more pronounced.”

Rey nodded in understanding, though she had limited interactions with both gentlemen as of yet, and none with the supposed ghosts haunting the manor.

Later that evening, as she headed for the library to select a volume to read after dinner, she overheard an impassioned conversation between mother and son.

“He’s using you, and he will turn against you when he learns you cannot provide that which he requires.”

“He is a wise leader.”

“Wars do not make a man great. He cares only for your lineage, our family history and bloodline. He seduced you, but you can still save yourself.”

With that, both hastened to their separate wings of the house, leaving Rey to select her night’s reading with a pounding heart and shaking hands.

Despite his temper, and the abruptness with which he conducted conversations, Rey’s heart was inclined towards Ben Solo. Not only was he the son of the lady she so adored and a great war hero, who all hailed for his great courage and bravado, but she felt keenly for the loss of his father, being an orphan herself. Based on the conversation she overheard, Snoke reminded her painfully of Unkar Plutt. Certainly, should Lord Solo choose to withdraw from his contemplative solitude, he could be a great asset to the nation, or a respected country gentleman, or anything he so chose to be. She trusted and believed that were he to escape Snoke’s influence, she would become acquainted with his true self.

It was with the changing of the seasons that the warm memories of the past six months seemed also to change, as did the character of Aldera Hall itself. The nights became longer, the wind more vicious and severe, and the rumored ghosts finally made their appearance. A rich fall harvest soon became the uncertainty of winter, with trees casting shadows over the white snow covered moors and weak sun- and moonlight to play tricks upon the eyes.

But tonight was peaceful. Rey saw Lady Organa to her chambers, then retired to her own, relishing the luxuries of as many candles as she could possibly need or want and the hall’s enormous library. She settled in to read, a cup of tea nearby and a blanket across her lap, when the air seemed to drop precipitously in temperature. No storm had passed by; the moors lay quiet and dormant, and all of the hall’s occupants, servants included, had gone to bed.

It was altogether too quiet. Rey found herself awake and alert, as if waiting for something to occur.

A dark, malignant laugh echoed through the halls. It was no ordinary laugh, from no ordinary human.

Though she was certain it was but a trick of the light, Rey thought she saw a huge shadow pass by her door. It was at that moment that Niney, Ben’s black dog, began barking ferociously, and the shadow seemed to retreat, to slink back to whatever hell from whence it came.

Rey did not leave her chamber again that evening; she did not dare. Nor did she dare to mention the incident over breakfast with Mr. Solo the next morning. He seemed more exhausted than usual; dark shadows circled his eyes, and he hardly spoke.

The sun was glowing strongly when Rey went to Lady Organa’s parlor. The elder woman too appeared fatigued, and when Rey sat down upon her usual chaise, the lady rose from her desk and approached, sitting next to her. Lady Organa took Rey’s hand, clasping it to her and squeezing gently.

“Snoke is unbalanced,” she said. “He’s been preying on my son for far too long.”

“What can we do?” Rey asked, looking into the eyes of a mother losing her greatest hope.

“I thought that my brother would be able to help him. I sent Ben to him, but that was when I lost him.”

“If I go to Ben on your behalf, will he listen? Would he return your affection and affiliation?”

“I don’t know,” Leia replied, shaking her head. “I have always believed that hope is like the sun; if you only believe in it when you can see it, you’ll never make it through the night. Perhaps, sometimes we need to make our own sunlight. Would you help me to write some letters today?”

Rey fetched the parchment and ink, and the two wrote to the lady’s many allies, great peers of the realm, former Parliament members, and eminences from overseas, to advance her latest political project—and perhaps to invite other people back into Ben’s life, to fill Aldera Hall with music and laughter and dancing, to perhaps end Benjamin Solo’s isolation, and chase away the memories clinging to corners and hiding in the darkness like a thick layer of dust.

A few days passed, and the awaited reply letters did not arrive as expected.

It was not long thereafter that Rey heard the strange laughter in the night once more. This night, it was not just the eerie peal of laughter, but the sound of fingers, and fingernails, brushing against the walls, trailing down the hallway leading to Ben Solo’s chambers.

A door opened. A door closed.

The shadow and the laughter disappeared. Rey’s heart was beating fast; all her senses were on alert. There was a darkness in the air, in the very heart of the place she so longed to call home, a darkness that fought to penetrate Lady Organa’s earnest, steadfast light. It sought to destroy a young man who sought to serve his country, learn the strategy of warfare, and returned home haunted by the blood he spilled in pursuit of that service.

As if called by someone, or something, Rey grabbed her heavy robe and a candle and quietly crept out of her room.

The heavy darkness was not a figment of her imagination, nor was it a trick of the light cast by the moon and the candles in the latest hours of the night; smoke emanated from Ben Solo’s chamber.

Moving as quickly as she could, she hurried to the door and thrust it open.

Despite flame traveling up his bed from the heavy curtains, the chamber’s only occupant remained sound asleep; in the moon and candle light he looked peaceful and even younger than his nearly thirty years.

“Wake up!” Rey cried, attempting to shake him awake. He merely murmured and turned; the smoke had stupefied him.  

It was by the grace of God, perhaps, that she looked up from Ben Solo’s prone form to his bedside table, where his own water pitcher sat. Grabbing it, she doused his bed curtains as best she could, and grabbed a nearby blanket to attempt to smother the rest before running back to her own room and grabbing her water jug. Returning to Ben’s chamber, she dumped the contents over him and his bed, by God’s aid, succeeded in extinguishing the flames.

Being drenched suddenly in water, along with the sounds of the commotion, finally awakened Ben Solo from his stupor. 

His arms flailed as if reaching for an invisible, nonexistent sword or musket as he sat up in bed and flung his blankets from him. 

“What happened? Rey?” he asked, looking about frantically. 

“Your curtains were on fire, sir, and I was afraid you’d never awaken,” she replied. “Somebody has plotted something; you cannot too soon find out who and what it is.”

He shook his head, droplets falling from his hair, and grabbed his dressing gown and another blanket. He then stepped toward Rey, reaching for her hands to ascertain if she had been burned. 

“Rey, are you alright? You saved my life.”

She nodded, shaking from fear and adrenaline. 

“I’ll be back in just a moment. I must go to check on something. Will you remain here? Are you certain that you are unharmed?”

“Yes, thank you. I shall remain here until you return.”

“Thank you, Rey. Do not bother waking my mother. I will return shortly.”

While Lord Solo was gone, seeking to make herself useful, Rey refilled his water pitcher from the basin in his water closet and put the singed and smoke scented blanket out to be washed. She examined the room closely, trying to discern any evidence which would give rise to the assailant’s identity. There was no candlestick holder to be found, but melted wax had pooled on the floor beneath the heavy draperies. She sat down upon the unharmed bed, and considered all that she had seen and heard that night.

The servants and Lady Organa slept in separate quarters, on the other floors of the house. In this wing, only herself, Lord Solo, and Lord Snoke kept their quarters. There was no reason to suspect Lady Organa would want to harm her only son; it was her deepest desire that his relationship with her brother, his uncle, be repaired, and that he devote himself to the family estate and accept his position as heir. Nor did Rey believe there would be a motive for any of the servants to want to kill their master; she knew them to be hard working, devoted, and well paid for their labors and circumspection.

She was certain that Snoke had tried to kill his young companion because he would not completely sever his relationship with his mother. She would not dare voice her suspicion aloud with everything in such a state, nor break her promise to Lord Solo.

True to his word, Ben Solo soon returned.

“I have found it all out, it is just as I thought. Have you heard queer laughter late at night before, Rey?”

“Yes, in fact I have. Lord Solo—” she began, but he cut her off, taking her hands in his own.

“You just saved my life, for which I will never even begin to comprehend repayment. Please, call me Ben.”

She looked up at him, startled by his earnest entreaty and plain words, and found herself captivated by his dark eyes. They were so like his mother’s eyes, and yet quite unlike, for she knew them most frequently to be haunted and encircled by deep shadows, like bruises marring his elegant face, the result of far too many sleepless nights and migraines preying upon his mind.

She nodded, swallowed, and continued. “Thank you, Ben. I could do no less. I must confess that I do not believe either of us will have a deep, peaceful rest tonight.”

“No indeed,” he replied, turning away from her and releasing her hands. He rubbed at his temples and pushed his sable hair away from his face.

“Please do try to get some rest tonight, however,” he said, turning back to face Rey once more. “I will escort you back to your chamber. Please do also tell no one what you saw tonight.”

She nodded once more, and took his proffered hand as he walked her to her chamber door.

After bidding her good night, he bowed and kissed her hand, then headed not back to his own quarters, but to the library Rey so loved. 

Retiring once more, Rey could not help but wonder why her heart was still racing, why she could still feel the press of Ben Solo’s lips on her hand like a brand that had inflamed her entire body, her very soul.

She slept, dreaming of fire and entangled sheets and Ben Solo’s plush lips and raven hair.

The next morning, upon entering the library to select a new book to read with Lady Organa, she found Ben asleep upon the sofa.

She was thankful that she did not gasp or make a sound when she saw him, for his deep, even breathing indicated he was finally getting the restful sleep he so desperately needed. She tiptoed around the sofa, grabbed a few books at random, and crept back out of the library as quickly as possible.

Over breakfast, he did not mention seeing her that morning, much to her relief, nor did he mention the terrifying incident of the night prior. He did, however, tell her that he was to be away for about a week; business in London called his attention, and he thought some time away might do his constitution some good. Besides, it would be difficult to head south once the winter set in.

Rey was pleased that he would be safe from Snoke’s pernicious influence for at least a week, and that he seemed eager to transact the duties expected of him as a landed gentleman, but she could not help but admit to herself she would miss him terribly.

…

A week’s time had passed, and Rey not only kept her promise to Ben to not speak of what transpired to his mother, she also kept her promise to herself not to dwell on her budding sentiments for him.

There were no further incidents in the nighttime, and Rey did not see Lord Snoke at all during that period, for which she prayed and thanked whichever deities were smiling down upon her. 

When Ben did finally return, he seemed quite well; some color had returned to his cheeks, and the shadows under his eyes were not nearly as pronounced. Lady Organa too was relieved to see him well again, and the three enjoyed a lively evening meal with a lovely French wine.

That night, after all had retired to bed, the horrors began again.

Rey was started out of a deep and dreamless sleep by a quiet knock on her door. She opened it to admit Ben Solo, holding a cloth to his face. 

“Forgive me, Rey, but I could use your help once more. Are you afraid of blood?” he asked, taking her hand as she led him to her reading chair.

“No, Mr. Solo. I mean, Ben,” she added hurriedly, concerned for his safety and health. “I am not afraid of blood.”

“Will you help me?” he asked, removing the cloth from his face to show a gash leading up his cheek.

“Of course,” she replied, grabbing fresh cloths from her water closet. She brought them to him, urging him to press them to the open wound while she rinsed the bloody linens he removed. He sat in her reading chair, looking lost and forlorn, like a young boy who had lost his prized puppy rather than a distinguished former soldier and a member of the gentry.

“Will you go downstairs, into the quarters near the kitchen? There should be some herbs and potions down there. I can manage while you’re gone,” he asked when she stepped back into her chamber with the rinsed fabric.

“I can make a poultice,” she offered, nodding.

“Thank you,” he said, quietly. She took up a candle and was about to leave when he added, “If you see my mother or Snoke, say nothing.”

She turned back to look at him; his face was in his hands, blood starting to come through the new cloth. His dark hair caught the candlelight as always, searing her heart once more.

Rey hurried downstairs to find what she needed, and saw no one. It seemed that her lady and the evil lord were deep in sleep. She dared not ask how Ben was injured so; though her thoughts did not linger upon it, her heart knew the answer already.

She returned to her chamber to minister to Ben, and after about a quarter of an hour or so, the bleeding seemed to cease, and he suggested a walk outside for some fresh air, not long before the sun was due to rise.

After yet another night that seemed bleaker than most, and another spate of violence determined to end the life of one for whom she so cared, Rey was eager to step out from the house’s suddenly pressing confinement and into the orchard. It was chilly, but she knew the fresh air would do her well, and she was heartened to take a turn about the garden on Ben’s arm.

“Rey, do you believe it possible that one may return from utter darkness, that even the worst sins can be forgiven?”

“I do,” she replied. “If one’s heart is true, if mankind’s goodness still resides within, and forgiveness is sought, who are we to judge what only God may?”

“Would your answer remain the same if I told you a story of a young man, who made a capital error in a foreign country, turning his life from its intended course, and then continued to follow the wrong path through a dark wood? Even when he held the hopes of redeeming himself in his deepest heart, fighting against his own unsavory nature and wishing to enjoin himself in matrimony with an honest and moral wife, would he be justified in overleaping an obstacle of custom?”

“Such a man must look to God for his salvation, not to another person.” At this, he took her hand, and pressed it gently.

“I am grateful, Rey,” he replied, “for this and all the kindness you have done me.”

“You are not alone,” she answered, surprising herself with the firmness of her conviction. Her emotions were in a flutter, her heart beating rapidly from the revelations with which she had been presented.

“Neither are you,” he replied, and with that, he kissed her hand once more.

He took his leave of her as Dawn stretched her rosy fingers over their garden corner, the cocks beginning to crow and the sounds of the earth awakening from their deep slumber to begin another day.

After the episode of the previous night, she had to admit to herself that she had developed feelings for Ben Solo, for which she scolded and castigated herself. After all, she was no one, born to nobody in the western reaches of the country; he was the heir to a great estate, and son to a noble family dating back to the Conqueror.

She resolved quite firmly to put her feelings aside, though she felt her racing heart betrayed her when he once more took her hand and kissed it before bidding her adieu.

…

After her sleepless night and dawn sojourn through the gardens with Ben, the day passed strangely for Rey. She felt disembodied, as if she were the rumored ghost said to be haunting the Hall. She knew, however, that there existed no ghost, but rather a cruel and evil man who meted out violent punishment upon his apprentice.

Rey did not see Snoke that day, but rather shadows in every corner, seemingly to match those under Ben’s and her eyes.

She could hardly concentrate on prayers, reading, or conversing with Lady Organa; her mind seemed clouded by a mist, like the dew rising off the moors in the summertime, or a fog indicating a heavy storm to follow.

That night, she retired early, taking care to bolt her door shut and locked. She did not dare keep a candle lit by her bedside, using only the moonlight to make ready for bed.

She fell into a light sleep, only to be awakened by a scratching along the hallway passage. A heavy foot accompanied it; she recognized that loud gait. The temperature in Rey’s chamber seemed to drop while her heart rate rose precipitously.

It was Snoke, as her heart had expected and feared all along.

She reminded herself she had firmly locked and bolted her door that night and though he was strong, a former military leader, he could not walk through walls.

Her doorknob rattled as he tried it. Rey scarcely breathed, praying earnestly that he would turn back down the hallway and return to his own quarters, sparing the rest of the household from whatever horrors he had planned.

Rey’s prayers were not to be answered that night, as the oppressive presence at her chamber door continued down the passageway to Ben Solo’s quarters.

She flung off her blankets, grabbed her dressing gown, and unbolted her door. Her entrance into the hallway served as a distraction from the dark lord’s nefarious purpose, as she had planned, but beyond that, she had not thought ahead to what she—or he—would do.

No ghost or malicious spirit come back from the dead greeted her, but Snoke did.

His eyes were particularly cruel and vicious, menacing in the moonlight. Rey had not kept a candle lit for her own protection and peace of mind that night; now she lamented it, for she could have flung it at the evil entity now present before her. She had no weapons, no manner of defending herself beyond her own wits and courage, those she had to rely upon when facing Mr. Plutt’s rage.

Perhaps the situation was not so different, she tried to tell herself, but Mr. Plutt had never wanted Rey or any of her fellow orphans dead, nor had he ever tried to set one of his apprentices on fire in their own bed.

“You,” he said, pointing a long, white finger at her. “Pathetic child. I cannot be betrayed. I cannot be beaten. I know his mind. I know his every intent.”

Rey did not allow his condescension or her terror to sway her resolve, or weaken her spirit. She did not hold his gaze, but rather cast about her for anything she could use as protection.

An ancient suit of armor, one to which she had never paid much mind, stood sentry in the hallway.

As he approached her, she pulled the old sword from the knight’s scabbard. It was heavy, but it felt right in her hands. She stood her ground as she had seen Ben do with his own preferred sword.

It was then that two momentous occurrences happened simultaneously, which Rey would never be able to explain save for the appearance of an avenging guardian angel, or once more the grace of God.

She realized that Snoke too bore a heavy sword by his side, and as she realized his intent, it was then that Ben Solo emerged from his chamber, putting himself between Rey and Snoke.

He looked up at Snoke, then back to Rey, and she wordlessly handed him the sword she had claimed.

The deadliest dance Rey had ever, or would ever, witness ensued. She was uncertain as to how the clanging of metal on metal did not awaken every servant, even though their quarters were on the floor below.

“You have too much of your father’s heart in you, young Solo. When I found you, I saw what all masters live to see: raw, untamed power and beyond that, something truly special. The potential of your bloodline. But now, you are nothing, weakened by an orphan girl,” Snoke taunted, striking out once more.

He missed Ben’s blade, below his own, and while Snoke’s blade caught the air, sounding like a ghost moving through the hallway, Ben’s blade struck true, ending his master’s life.

Rey rushed to him, to once more find blood covering them both.

It seemed as if a spell had been broken, for it was then that the sun rose, bringing with it servants and Lady Organa herself at the top of the stairs to witness the gruesome tableau.

Rey soon found herself returned to her chamber, a heavy sleeping draught prepared for her and Ben both. 

…

Ben spent a few days convalescing and recovering from his wounds, then requested that Rey meet him in the garden for tea one bright spring morning.

To Rey, gratitude, and many associations, all pleasurable and genial, made his face the object she best liked to see; his presence in a room was more cheering than the brightest fire on a cold Yorkshire night. However, she feared that in the aftermath of his precipitous duel with his master, he would blame her for its cause or change his mind about continuing her employment as his mother’s companion.

“Rey,” he greeted her, but before he could continue, she forced herself to speak.

“I will find another position,” she began. “I entirely understand if you no longer desire my presence here at Aldera Hall.”

He shook his head. “Nothing could be further from the truth; I desire quite the opposite, in fact. Unless you prefer to leave,” he hurriedly added. “I can understand if you came to despise and fear this place, and feel trapped in its net.”

“I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will,” she replied, searching his face for the blunt, tactless honesty she had always known him to possess.

“And your will shall decide your destiny,” he said, reaching for her hand. “That is why I myself will entirely understand if you do not wish to do me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage. I offer you my hand, my heart, and a share of all my possessions. I ask you to pass through life at my side—to be my second self, and best earthly companion.”

She smiled, entwining her fingers with his own.

“I will marry you, Ben. But you must ask your mother for her forgiveness, and I must ask her blessing.”

The pair could have passed several hours or even days amongst themselves sitting in the garden, holding hands, but returned to the great manor house to attend their duties and start their life together anew.

Her heart full, Rey presented herself to Lady Organa, her eyes twinkling in the sunlight.

“My lady,” she began, sitting down on the sofa next to her. “Your son has had an unfortunate past, and made many mistakes. I told him that he must look to God for his own salvation and redemption, not to another person. He allowed a cruel master to transform his heart and mind against you and against your teachings, morals, and bloodline. He must ask and pray for forgiveness. And yet, while I breathe and think I must love him.”

The wise older lady, so like a mother to Rey, smiled and took her hands in her own. “I give you my blessing. It would be my greatest joy to have you as my daughter.”

Rey’s heart brimmed over with joy; her countenance glowed in the spring sunlight and with her greatest happiness.

Reader, she married him.

[kassandratheeaglebearerblog-blog]

Comparison of LGBT history

Màlaka! Well, here we go again, another example of the madness of your generation! After skin tone, you decided to judge people and illtreat them depending on who they decided to love? This modern world will never cease to shock me, for better and for worst. It should be noted that over the years, you all created terms which did not exist in my days. This was slightly confusing for me at first but I now understand this was an effort made to classify and differentiate between all of those different variants of sexual preference and identity one might express.

 First, let’s start with what you call ‘gender identity’. By your modern standards, it refers to one’s sense of one’s self as gendered person. It may or may not correspond to one’s gender assigned at birth and may or may not conform to one’s perception of masculinity or feminity. In my case, since I was considered to be a girl at birth and still identify as a woman, I would be what you call ‘cisgender’. Though, I have to say, since I spent most of my time on the battlefield and was not scared to stand up for myself and those I loved, I am not exactly your typical Spartan lass and I am the complete opposite of how an Athenian woman was supposed to act. And fighting so much did help me develop a musculature any men would envy. Màlaka, even Alkibiades looks scrawny compared to me! Though he does know how to make up for his shortcomings…

If one’s gender identity does not match one’s gender given at birth, then one is considered as being ‘transgender’. Those people, in an attempt to obtain the body they dream of, might get surgery from your physicians. Hippokrates would be glad to see how far medicine has progressed! Which leads us to the next term, ‘MTF’ which refers to someone considered by society to be male getting surgery so that their body looks more womanly. The other term is ‘FTM’ which refers to a female individual getting surgery in order to make her body fit the norms of masculinity. As a result of transitioning, people need to change their ‘legally recognised sex status’ which can prove to be difficult due to the divisive laws yours leaders enact. We also have people who your physicians, in their fancy language, call ‘transsexuals’. The latter refers to people with significant cross-gender identity.  In order not to hurt anyone’s feelings, you younglings created ‘gender inclusive/gender neutral pronouns’ which are pronouns used for people who identify as being outside the gender binary. We also have ‘intersex’, which refers to people born with ambiguous genitals. This word seems to be favoured over ‘hermaphrodite’, which is frowned upon as over the years, it became a slur. In my Greece, the word did exist, but as ‘Hermaphroditos’.

‘Hermaphroditos’ was the son and fruit of, unsurprisingly, the many extramarital love affairs of Aphrodite had, with the father this time being Hermes. Maybe Hermes tried to find solace in her arms? I cannot blame him after his love, Persephone, threw him off a bridge right in front of me. But at the same time why was he courting a married woman? Though Persephone herself told me she hated her husband, Hades, because he kidnapped her from her mater’s care. And as I witnessed, Hades was not exactly a model husband because he was too busy creating chaos and torturing humans in Tartarus and was neglecting his wife a lot. Which led to Persephone turning into a control freak who was making the undead’s life in the fields of Elysium impossible. Màlaka! Take it from my experience, never meddle in the Gods love affairs!

From what my mater told me as a little girl, Hermaphroditos was a remarkably handsome young man who caught the attention of a naiad called Salmacis. Salmacis was so enamoured by him that she prayed to be united with him forever. A God responded to her request by merging their two forms into one, creating a single androgynous form. From this day onwards, they (I am a fast learner!) came to be seen as the deity of intersexuality and hermaphroditism. They are also associated with marriage, symbolising the union of, traditionally but not necessarily, a man and a woman, two separate entities becoming one through the sacred bond of marriage. This is further emphasised by the fact that their parents were the deities supposed to protect and bless brides.

Moreover, back in my Greece, despite the fact that children were brought up respecting the gender norms and stereotypes, once adults, they were free to live the rest of their lives however they wanted to, which included a man renouncing his male status and instead adopting  a female identity or vice versa. It was quite a rare occurrence but not an impossible one. Fully transitioning was obviously impossible because Hippokrates had not yet developed the required surgery. Although I never met him, I found out about a Roman emperor, Elagabalus, who can be considered as one of the earlier transgender figures.

Elagabalus was married 5 times to women but never had a long-lasting marriage. His most stable liaison was with Hierocles, a blonde slave from Caria who was also a chariot driver. The emperor found delight in being called the mistress, wife or queen of Hierocles. He also preferred being called a lady instead of lord and would wear a lot of makeup and wigs. There are even tales of him offering large sums of money to physicians who could give him a vagina. There were even reports of him depilating his body and painting his eyes before prostituting himself in taverns, brothels and even his own palace. Whether that is true or not, I cannot tell. Just like Cleopatra after him, his enemies made it a priority to launch a smear campaign against him.

The next concept we will see is that of ‘sexual orientation’. This has to do with sexual erotic and/or emotional attractions, interests and orientation. Someone who identifies as male and is sexually and romantically attracted to men only would be gay. Lesbian is the same thing but refers to women who like other women. We also have other types of orientation such as bisexual, pansexual, demiromantic, skoliosexual, aromantic, asexual and so on just to name a few. Understanding about the LGBT community for your generation is fairly new. Even members of the community sometimes struggle to understand each other with gay and lesbians being intolerant towards bisexuals for example. LGBT people faced a lot of backlash back in the days and still do, though things are evolving with countries becoming more and more understanding and legalising same-sex marriage, adoption and enacting anti-discrimination rules.

Back in my Greece, it was common for older Athenian men to have younger lovers, even harems of them, in addition to their wife. The belief was for the older man to educate the younger one, give him shelter and help him become adult while having a more intimate relationship with the young man. Penetrative sex between two men in itself was not seen as degrading or something vile but the one taking the passive role was the one who was not necessarily shown respect. Thebes took advantage of gay love by creating an army troop which consisted of 150 gay couples as it was thought there would be no fiercer warrior than a man trying to protect his lover. While male homosexuality and sexuality was celebrated, lesbians were more invisible than others because at the time, it was thought the only way for people to have sex would be through penetrative sex, which led to female pleasure and homosexuality being eclipsed.

Luckily for me, being a mercenary and a descendant of the great Leonidas himself, I was able to break free from the glass ceiling and from the heteronormative expectations of society. And this also meant I was able to explore my sexuality to the fullest. I think that by today’s standards I would be what you call a ‘bisexual’ since I did have my fair share of encounters with members of both gender. One of the most memorable one was on the islands of Delos and Mykonos, the Silver Islands. There, I met Kyra and Thaletas. While helping Kyra to weaken the Athenian’s control, we did grow closer to each other in several ways…

As for Thaletas, almost all of his army got annihilated by the Athenians, leaving him broken. And pride is a Spartan’s strongest sentiment so repairing that was definitely worthy of Herakles himself. At the climax of the oncoming battle, our feelings took control and…

But those relationships never lasted and I was always on the move. That is, unless I met my soulmate Natakas who became the father of my child, Elpedios. 

But even then, my relationship with Natakas ended abruptly because of the ones calling themselves the ‘Hidden Ones’… I just hope my two loves are together are together. It’s only a matter of time before the Heir of memories comes and I can join them in Elysium.

[sethnakht]

more than a little on the slow side today, so haven’t read any commentary yet. but here are some raw thoughts on vader #25.

Difficult to know where to start, as the issue was overlaid with symbols and yet also rather stolidly straightforward. Perhaps as a beginning: I was expecting Soule to play things straight and hoping to be gloriously wrong about it. He played things straight. 

My working theory going into the comic, written in response to @micelle in the middle of the night a few days ago:

I personally would not be surprised if that moment of projection on Padmé’s ship - you know, where Vader sees the mask engraved into Little Ani’s flesh in a reverse of Luke’s cave adventure, marking the start of a theme of this arc, the engraving of a mask onto various bodies - were the key to it all, that is, if what he’s after is the opportunity to kill himself (a reverse Momin so to speak). (or change himself. the comic has been so focused on his selfishness, on mirrors of the self - I could picture him strolling past nodes of past moments in the “world between worlds” and peering into the highlights of his wretched life as he decides whether to save Shmi, interfere with Padmé, prevent himself from leaving Tatooine, etc)

Some of this prediction played out - Vader does indeed stroll past moments in his own life, starting with pregnant!Shmi and himself as little Ani. You could argue too that the end result of it all is that he the part of him who still thinks of himself as an Anakin to be Saved is killed, for the present moment, in a reverse Momin of sorts. Things were a little more complex than I had imagined them, however. The plane upon which Vader finds himself resembles some combination of the subjective landscape of his own dark-side-fueled meditations and the objective landscape of Mustafar. As in his meditations, the sky is filled with lightning and he himself is a burning, burnt husk with dead white space where his cybernetic limbs complete him. As on Mustafar, he walks the ground, and where lava would be is the dark, roiling sea over which he floated in meditation; memories having to do with himself are presented in circles of lava, corresponding to his own burning state.

There seem to be two different possible modes of interaction with this world, objective and subjective. On the one hand, Vader walks past nodes that objectively reflect his own life back at him as would a film, much like what Ezra and Ahsoka encountered in the World Between Worlds; it is in such a lava-encased node that he foresees his own confrontation with Ahsoka (!!). Were he to interact with these nodes as Ezra considered doing with Kanan, then he could potentially change the past or the future. But Vader does not interact with these nodes, he simply walks past them. Nor does he seem to make much of the voices from his own past, from the future (Kylo!) echoing around him. Instead, he interacts with subjective projections of the people he loves - Shmi, the Jedi, Palpatine, Obi-Wan, Padmé. I say subjective projections, as these are all people who matter to him and all people who play into his self-narrative, and thus also mirrors of the self to a degree, but suspect the status of these projections is about as complex as the vision Luke has in the Dagobah cave: what Vader sees is what he brings with him, but also what the Dark Side would have him see. Thus, he sees Shmi with Palpatine behind her as though to suggest that his origins are in the Dark Side, that he has always been “unnatural” and destined to serve. (This is also what Momin’s pretty speeches would imply, that this plane is a place controlled by the Dark Side; this is partly what I mean by Soule playing things straight.)

There’s a way in which I got what I wanted - Vader doesn’t - can’t, of course - consider changing the actual past, but he does interact with his own past in a very revealing manner. That is, he doesn’t hesitate to kill the Jedi again (no Younglings, however!), presumably because he thinks they are keeping him from Padmé (standing atop the tower that transforms before his eyes from his newly constructed Sith tower into the Jedi temple). He also doesn’t lift a finger to prevent Palpatine from killing Obi-Wan (which is possibly the most !! moment of this entire sequence for me - does he not want to fight Obi-Wan himself, or think he isn’t strong enough? is this the lesson he thinks he has learned, is this the way he wishes things had gone ...?). In a departure from the past that speaks hugely to the mistakes he thinks he made, he then turns on Palpatine instead of choosing to kneel and serve as he had, shooting Palpatine down with lightning, killing his father figure with the very method Palpatine will eventually use to try and kill his son (and successfully uses to kill Vader). By the time Vader reaches the top of the tower, he seems to have recovered a positive sense of self again. Everything has gone right, just as he imagined it, it would seem, and it is as Anakin Skywalker that he speaks to Padmé with words later echoed by Luke - “come with me”. But does he want to save them both, or just himself? Padmé, for her part, seems to be nothing more than a reflection of his own self, than a reflection of what he chose instead of her - she quotes his own words back to him, chokes herself as he had once choked her, and then is rendered apart by (red, suggesting a dark side vision?) lightning in yet another foreshadowing of Vader’s eventual death. “Not again!” he says, in what has to be the funniest line of this comic. In other words, I don’t think for a moment that we actually saw Padmé here, not in the way that we see Luke, who shows up next in a massive blue column of light. Luke seems to spring from a source outside of the self - his appearance brings light back into the empty, desolate landscape that Vader had emptied of all light from within, and it’s an unanticipated appearance, too powerful for Vader to control, driving Vader back into his body, into the prone position he assumed the last time he was struck by lightning to foreshadow his own death in this comic (#18).

So, for all that Vader hasn’t learned all that much from his own history, he was, apparently, after salvation - through Padmé, with Padmé, if only with a Padmé who reflected his narrative in a way that all previous subjective projections had. (Possibly that desire for salvation also allows for the light to enter his mental picture, even to overwhelm him or the Dark underpinnings of the vision in the very end.) He never considers doing anything with the nodes of the past - he stays fixated on what is incarnated before him. Which is of a piece of him, and his self-centeredness in this comic from the very beginning. The message might thus be interpreted as: Anakin chose himself, chose one path, and despite regrets he would make essentially the same choice all over again, and that choice leaves him on the one hand miserable and lonely and empty and blinded and on the other also creates the crack that will eventually motivate his self-sacrifice for Luke.

It’s all very consistent ... perhaps a bit too consistent for me, as someone who flirts constantly with depression and takes particular enjoyment in subversive fiction. One of the things this comic has consistently done is treat Vader as though his physical condition were of secondary importance, placing the stress instead on his continued and persistent character features, on his meditative sessions, on his presence in the Force; this finale was very much in that vein, spirit over body. Camuncoli and his team have produced incredible visuals to bring that mental landscape to life; I’ve really enjoyed seeing how much they’ve been able to make of basic elemental symbols, of empty plains and dark oceans. And there is something to be said for this mind-over-body philosophy, as Vader himself might well think that this is what the Dark Side has finally allowed him to accomplish - though it’s rather at odds with Vader seeking out Padmé and engaging all of his attachments.

It’s hard to bring out certain paradoxes in his self-understanding without considering the body, let’s put it that way. I suppose what I’m saying is that I’ll always feel there was an opportunity missed. Vader watching Padmé throw herself to her death, then start choking herself, thereby transforming into a corpse in front of his eyes, only to become incinerated by lightning - well, I mean, it’s a fantastic image. I do like that you could read her “suicide” as a rejection of him and his choices, even as you can also read it as a sign from the Dark Side. Like ... I like it, don’t get me wrong. Compare his passive spectatorship to the kill-switch moment in the 2015 run, however, to that brain-addled, deranged, yet horrifyingly logical mental slaughterfest where he kills himself, Obi-Wan, and Padmé to regain agency over his own body, and ... I find it hard not to prefer the messiness of that to the rather clean symbolism in Soule.

Anyway, as a tie-in connecting the PT with Rebels, this comic certainly offers context for understanding where he is mentally. As a take on how Vader becomes Vader, who is never just his mind to me, but a mind trapped in a machine, it satisfied me less. 

Am I glad I read it? A thousand times yes, because of the conversations it has generated here. Boundless thanks especially to @glompcat, @gffa, @thewillowbends, @micelle, @songofthestars and @sith-shame-shack for the immeasurable pleasure of your company along this readerly journey - it’s been an education - and a joy - I shall not long forget. 😍

[shimmersing]

Something Better

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Chapter 1: The Unaccounted-For Child

“Younglings, this way! Hurry!” Jedi Master Faron called, sweeping the children past him into a small classroom. His five – no, four - young charges scampered through the open door and darted into the shadows, feeling their minder’s urgency. Master Faron glanced down the hallway before silently closing the door behind him. Children scrambled under tables and behind benches as the Jedi Temple quaked around them.

“M-m-master Faron?” a wavering voice called.

“Hush now, younglings. We must be silent,” Faron shushed, reaching out in the Force to brush each young mind reassuringly. In return he felt fear, confusion, and anxiety, though it calmed minutely at his touch. Beyond their tiny study room, there was even worse: pain, anguish, and… death.

“Little ones. Listen to me,” the minder whispered, “Search your memories. Find the very happiest one you know and meditate on it. Live in that memory.” Faron closed his eyes, an instant of regret, an instant of concern. Then he detached his lightsaber from his belt.

Master Faron hadn’t powered on the weapon in more than twenty years. He carried it as the symbol it was: to demonstrate that he was a member of the Jedi Order. He’d never had to kill, only rarely had to defend himself even at the worst of times. The empath had spent much of his time as a Jedi training initiates like himself, some of the most vulnerable of Force-sensitive children.

He continued to observe his young students, settling into peaceful meditations as he’d asked. He projected one last soothing aura and then left the room in silence, lightsaber gripped in his hand. They were coming.

Sith.

Master Faron ignited his lightsaber: green, traditional for a consular. He gazed into the blade’s bright glow for a moment, and then the attackers swept around the corner. The sage found himself recoiling from the aura of dark side energy surrounding the three Sith who approached.

“Well, well, well, my friends. What is this now?” The closest – human, barely more than a girl - sneered, whipping the ruby blade of her lightsaber around in a lazy circle. Master Faron shifted to a defensive stance and remained silent.

A Zabrak female, her horns tipped in black, sniggered. “A minder? Like a nursemaid?” She edged up behind the leader, leering. “Obviously he’s protecting some little innocent Jedi younglings around here.”

Master Faron stiffened, a shock of panic racing up his spine. He felt one of his students falter in his blissful meditation, surprised and curious. The final Sith, a rangy human, lightsaber unlit, pushed past the other two and stood face to face with the consular.

“We aren’t here to play games, you two nitwits,” he hissed, circling to Faron’s left side, away from the classroom door. The Jedi followed his movements closely, keeping his lightsaber as a ward between himself and the Sith, between his charges and the darkness.

“Fine, then, if you’re going to be that way about it. He looks too soft for me, anyway,” the first replied, shrugging and deactivating her lightsaber with a snap. The Zabrak giggled again, no mirth in the sound at all.

“You can’t protect them, you know,” the man said. The gaze of the Sith was tinged with red, just the slightest glow marring otherwise perfectly normal human eyes. Faron shook his head.

“It is not whether I can or cannot, Sith. It is what is determined by the Force. You cannot understand.”

The Sith smiled maliciously, his eyes blazing brighter for a moment. “It’s not that I cannot, poor Jedi. It’s that I simply don’t care.”

And then he attacked. Master Faron blocked the first two blows, but a third seared deep into his shoulder, a jolt of fiery agony that left his weapon hand numb. His lightsaber dropped from nerveless fingers, the blade sizzling out instantly. A vast roar sounded, the rumble of stone and mortar breaking apart. Dust fell between the two opponents as they glared into each other’s eyes. One of the younglings in the classroom screamed.

“See, Master Jedi? There is nothing you can do. We will tear this temple down atop you; it will be your tomb. The Jedi are finished.”

Jedi Master Faron straightened boldly, facing the Sith. “Our work is never finished, young man. The Jedi live on. The galaxy will see peace again.” He paused, reaching out to his initiates, a final touch of calm and… love. “You cannot win.”

The Sith smiled bleakly, shook his head, and raised his lightsaber. “On the contrary.” His blade struck-

Aitahea shot upright, grasping the sheets to her throat. A cry was trapped in her chest, binding her heart into a knot, painful and tight. Where am I?

The room was shadowed and unfamiliar. The viewport across from her opened onto star shine. Ah, yes. She was on the Luminous, the ship entrusted to her by the Council upon her departure from Coruscant. They were en route to Taris, fearing that a Jedi studying the planet was suffering the same malady as Master Yuon. With a heavy sigh, Aitahea touched a hand to her brow, feeling the weight of Yuon’s shielding in her mind. The burden was worth it.

She looked to her left in the faint light, eyes drawn to the metallic cylinder of her lightsaber hilt on the bedside stand. It lay there solid and real, and she reached out with a trembling hand to touch it, to feel the reassurance of cool metal and crystal. Her fingers curled around the weapon and she pulled it into her lap, the comfortable weight soothing.

More than ten years later and the Sacking of Coruscant still haunted her. She had been only a child, an initiate, when the tenuous peace began in the wake of the Sith Empire’s attack – Aitahea now held the power and prestige that could have saved them all. Her fellow younglings and Master Faron, all gone, and only she remained.

Wakeful but now calm, Aitahea considered the vision, taking it to pieces and examining each part without emotion. Part dream, part memories that were not her own, shared through the Force. She hadn’t been in the Jedi Temple when was attacked and couldn’t know of this specific event. Saved by a twist of fate, a simple scheduling occurrence that had placed her safely elsewhere on Coruscant as the temple was razed. She was the fifth youngling, the unaccounted-for child.

An exceptional empath, young Aitahea hadn’t needed to be near the temple to feel the suffering of her friends and teachers. Aitahea and her younger sister sat on either side of their father, gleefully watching as their mother was honored for her work as an educator. Aitahea had gone rigid and white as snow when the Sith attack on the Temple began. The young initiate had gasped like one drowning, and moments later the doors crashed in. Imperial soldiers had flooded into the academy, weapons aimed and ready.

Though they weren’t Jedi, it was Aitahea’s parents who saved everyone that day. After calming the audience, Aitahea’s mother negotiated a detainment period for the faculty and attendees of the academy in attendance that evening. Rather than the devastation that could have occurred, the Daviin family kept their precious community calm, and two days later when the Treaty of Coruscant was passed, all the captives had been released unharmed… including Aitahea, her Force-sensitivity and Jedi training carefully hidden.

And she knew she owed everything to them. Her parents, who continued to teach. The remaining Jedi who whisked her off Courscant and continued her training. Her master, her friends, and those who had perished at the hands of the Sith.

When Aitahea dreamed of the Jedi Temple, all her trials, all her knowledge, all her triumphs against the Sith felt small next to the sacrifices of those who had come before her.

There was no point in lingering on the sadness of the past; that way lay the dark side. With a sigh, the consular set her lightsaber down again and rose from her bed, smoothing back the soft coverlet before tapping the control pad to brighten the room. Her quarters on the Luminous were austere but comfortable in typical Jedi aesthetic.  It was even starting to feel a little like home.

She plaited her ashen hair into a neatly woven braid coiled around her head, then dressed in the earthtone robes of the Order. She wore almost no armor, relying instead on more peaceful methods of interaction. When diplomacy failed to diffuse a dangerous situation, the light tunic and robes allowed for the agility and speed she preferred. She’d just slipped into the subtly-patterned chestnut cloak when the comm in her room pinged.

“Master, are you awake?” A robotic voice called across the connection. It was the ship’s droid, fretfulness pitching his vocalizations higher than expected. “I’m deeply sorry to disturb your rest, Master, but we’re coming up on Taris.”

“Thank you, See-Two, I’ll be out in a moment.”

“Of course, Master.”

Aitahea smiled at the earnest voice, then ran a hand lightly over her hair one last time, smoothing a few strands back into the coronet. She left the hood of her cloak down and clipped her lightsaber to her belt before exiting her quarters. The Luminous hosted not only herself and the fretful protocol droid, but her friend and pilot, Prelsiava Tern. Sia, as the Mirialan liked to be called, had joined Aitahea during her visit to Coruscant as she quested for a cure for her Master, Yuon Par.

Fortunately, Yuon’s cure had indeed been found. Aitahea had sought out the Noetikons scattered throughout the capital world and brought them together, making a dangerous journey to the demolished Jedi Temple to learn their secrets.

The visit to her childhood home would have been unsettling enough but having to set foot in the shattered Jedi Temple after so many years stirred emotions in her that she’d thought resolved. Perhaps that had been the source of her lurid vision… of course. It was only an ordinary dream, her unconscious mind simply sorting out her feelings as she slept.

In the main room, Aitahea shook her head before activating the holocomm, stepping back to see Syo Bakarn. “Master,” she acknowledged and offered a respectful bow.

“Aitahea, it’s good to hear from you. The Council has sensed your arrival on Taris. An intriguing world.”

“It is, Master. I reviewed the history while we traveled. This is the site of Bastila Shan’s escape from the Empire, if I’m recalling correctly.”

“That, as well as being a world much like Coruscant, before Darth Malak caused the destruction that reduced them to poisoned swamplands.” Master Syo continued, giving Aitahea the details of her mission on Taris while she made notes on her datapad.

“I’ll do everything I can for Master Tykan, and I’ll be watching for evidence regarding the creator of this plague.”

“Thank you, Aitahea. It may be possible that your skills will be required for other tasks on Taris. Assist where you can, but do not tarry. We will be waiting on your word. Good luck.”

“The Force will be with us, Master.”

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[simplysoriya]

March of the Turtles, Pt 2

(Part 1) •• (Vibe)

It was nesting season in the wilds of Krasarang. An occasion that held special reverence in Pandaria. As the legends state, it was on these beaches that Shen-zin Su was born into the world, and by extension The Wandering Isles themselves. It wasn’t just the monks who took part in seeing the turtles from the beach to water, protecting them from predators and keeping them on a straight path, villagers and townsfolk participated in the hatching as well. It was almost a holiday of sorts on the southern continent.

“Okay!” Soriya started, clasping her hands together enthusiastically in front of the small class of ten youth students. “We’re a long way from the temple, so I need you all to be on your best behavior and listen careful. Do we think we can manage that?”

“Yes, Ms. Soriya.” The mixture of little voices rung out in unison.

Unable to hide her own excitement, nor the smile she often wore, she would wave the group along to follow as she walked the trail down to the beach. But what was a field trip without a mandatory lesson? “Can anyone tell me why this is so important?”

Arax, a young Orc boy quickly shouted out, “Because turtles are cool!” Complete with a hand raised towards the sky.

Jinny, a Pandarian girl was quick to scoff at him. “No! Because they help keep the ocean safe!” She interjected, thinking her answer the correct one.

“Those are both good answers.” Soriya said sensing there wasn’t anymore input. “Jinny had an interesting response though. Do we know how turtles keep the ocean safe?” Though the silence from the group said it all. “Turtles provide balance, they clean up the sponges and eat the seagrass, as well as jellyfish. They also provide nutrients to other sea creatures.” She tried to keep it light and understandable. “Why is that so important?”

“Because it provides balance, and life is balance.” The class once again responded in unison, as if reciting a mantra. Though they likely just zeroed in on the key word.

As the beach and crowd came into view the kids let out excited gasps. Truly it was a sight to behold. From the ornate kites floating in the breeze, to the soft glowing lamps that made ‘trails’ for the turtles, villagers from all over dressed in festival garb, and no shortage of laughter ever graced the beach. It was a joyous day in Pandarian culture, one to be celebrated and honored. Long had Shen-zin Su wandered the oceans, and many believed that protecting the clutches of turtle eggs paid respects to the Great Sea Turtle that was home to so many. Of course it was also to ensure the population of their species, but there was also the yearning to see yet another Sea Dragon Turtle grow to become an Isle. However of a longshot that was.

As the monastery group found their designated area and set themselves up, they would busy themselves talking and playing as they waited for the turtles to hatch from their shells.The kids quickly split into smaller groups, mostly gossiping about the latest styles they’ve learned, or the newest lesson spoken to them. Adorably they would try to sort the knowledge and wisdom their masters tried to impart on them.

Soriya busied herself with a book she had brought along, relaxing into that consistent comfort she found near the sea and beneath the sand. This beat a day out on the Broken Shore by miles. Though it wasn’t all smooth. Peeking from the top of her she would yell out, “Wait! Marco don’t do that!” yet still held a kind tone. Flailing to get up from the lounging position, though once she did she would make her way over to the human child. Bending down to a squatting position as herself and Marco looked over the turtle nest, she would grasp his hand delicately and remove the unhatched egg from his clutches. “We can’t touch these yet, they’re still fragile.” She explained in a soft spoken tone.

The boy looked as if she had just stolen his dog away from him, sufficiently breaking her heart. “B-but it’s round and pretty….” He pleaded, though it wasn’t going to get him any further.

“I…” Unsure of how to lighten the situation she would stumble before offering an alternative. “I’ll tell you what- Sometimes they don’t hatch right, after we make sure all the ones that hatch get to the ocean, we can pick one out for you to keep. Fair?”

With a sniffle the boy would nod, “Fair.”

An hour or so passed without many changes. The turtles remained where they were, but the seagulls that flocked overhead was a clear sign that the hatching would soon begin. It wasn’t until she heard the Orc boy cry out, “I am protector of the dragon turtles!” Peeking her head up just in time to catch him run through a flock of seagulls that had gathered on the beach, scattering them. “All will fear my turtle stance!” The boy roared out before taking a fetal position on the sand and rolling around. Soriya couldn’t help but laugh at his antics, Arax had a zest for life that others struggled to match. For a moment, she tried to recall a time where she didn’t see the boy enjoying himself, but no such moment existed in her memory.

“We have a hatchling!” Someone shouted from down the beach. Ten heads poked up to see what the commotion was about, much like gophers. Though Soriyas own curiosity wasn’t far behind.

“Hey! Wait up!” The young monk called out as her class rushed to where the sound came from. Scrambling once again to keep up with them.

There was a large crowd gathered, but the children easily slid through and to the front. Soriya having to politely push through to get to them. Around the horn the children made their comments, “Oh that’s so cool!” or “Look it’s like he’s breaking down a wall!” and who could forget “I’m coming out ♪” One of the children sang. Though the moment was short lived as Soriya felt a tiny hand pulling on her wrist. Looking down to spot Marco looking back up at her. “What if we miss our nest hatching and the seagulls get them?” The child spoke gently, as was his nature.

“You’re right, let’s give them another minute and then head back.” And she did just that, waiting a few moments before calling out, “Okay kids, let’s go see if our turtles hatched!” Making her way out of the crowd, she would patiently wait for the children to line up. Taking a headcount, she would crinkle her nose, “Where’s Arax?”

The children looked between one another in their own bouts of confusion, clearly none of them knew. But his voice still boomed, “They’re hatching! They’re hatching!” coming from their spot on the shore. With the same speed they had rushed to see the first turtles hatched, the stampede of younglings now went the opposite direction. And once again, Soriya was slow to catch up with the seemingly limitless energy they proved to have.

It didn’t take much instruction for the bright children to figure what they were there for. A few lined up next to the clutch near the lines, picking up the tiny turtles and putting them on course with the ocean. The more rambunctious of the group took it upon themselves to guard the line, warding off seagulls with their training staffs and scooting crabs in the other direction. A mighty and epic battle for the small.

Jinny, the Pandarian student approached Soriya with her hands cupped and out. But what she held was obscured. Slowly the girl would uncover a teeny tiny turtle snuggly sitting in her palms. “Ms. Sori! I’m going to name him Sang-wei!” She exclaimed excitedly, eliciting a smile from her mentor.

“Just make sure Sang-wei makes it to the water, little one. Sea turtles are nothing without the sea.” Soriya replied before ruffling the top of Jinny’s head.

While the lesson had many facets, including teaching compassion and respect for the world, to inspire kindness, to do something constructive, it also was to teach a sense of responsibility. As much as Soriya would have liked to participate in guiding the baby animals, she would leave that to the children. Her role today was supervisor, it was them who would get all the fun, though she still enjoyed watching them have their day in the sun. Many of her class was orphaned from one conflict or another, the monastery was a place of respite for them, of happiness, of a brighter future. Her responsibility to them was to prepare them for life, not just educate them on the path to monkhood.

The sun hung low over the horizon as light quickly fled the area. The day was winding down, and most of the children exhausted from their activities, opting to rest their heads on the sand. Marco had gotten his unhatched souvenir, Jinny was still waving goodbye to Sang-wei, Arax was celebrating his victory over the mighty seagulls. Overall it was a successful day.

Soriya wandered towards the nest, overlooking the spent and cracked shells that now littered the area. Only one remained unhatched, having the young woman fear for the worst. Gently she would bend down to retrieve the egg, holding it in the palm of her hand. “Sometimes we all need a little help.” She whispered as the tips of her fingers seemed to stream a swirl of mists into the egg that sat center on her palm. Closing her eyes she would concentrate on the task, on the healing aspect of it.

With bated breath and worried eyes she would stare at the egg. A few moments went by, each only amplifying her distress over the unmoving vessel. But hope comes in all forms, whether it be big or small, and that tiny little wiggle from the soon to be turtle renewed that hope. The top of the egg cracked first, though it didn’t make too big of an impact, soon the crack would grow and a small beak was visible. “Come on little guy, I know you’re in there.” She said to the creature as it fought its way out of its shelled incubator. Finally toppling a side of the egg and falling out into her hand. Quickly her free hand would come up to cup the baby turtle. “Aren’t you just adorable…” She once again whispered, baring her pearly whites in a vibrant smile to the creature.

“Did you get a turtle too, Ms. Sori?” A Tauren calf spoke up, rubbing tired eyes as he looked up to his mentor.

“I can’t kee--..” Though she sighed after she realized. Merely holding out her hand to the boy. With a groan the calf confirmed her suspicions, pulling a turtle from his pocket and offering it to her. “I wish we could take them home too. But they belong here, just as we belong back at the temple. Come, let’s make sure these two make it home.”

The pair walked down to the water, both talking to their respective turtles in quiet whispers before bending down and placing the precious turtles on the shoreline. “Are they going to be okay?” The calf asked.

“I think they will be.” The monk replied with a smile.

[celticrune]

all the even nrs for ur dnd chars!!

Under a cut because good lord

2. Do they have any titles? How did they get them?JayHe doesn’t have any official titles, but he probably ‘title’ likeSlayer of Bandits or Hammer of the Revolution or idk something cheesy like thatin his hometown. Nothing that serious, but he still fucking hates it

MoranaWell, her evil original self is called The Demon Queen, so that’s a thing.

SurinaHer surname, Korath, is a title of sorts. It’s a designation she earned for hercohort, meaning demon in Draconic (or something along thoselines, I don’t remember the exact translation). She got the name by massacringfive fellow recruits in a tournament battle royale (that technically wasn’tsupposed to be fought to the death)

Keijinope

Tanwenno

ValThey’re quite the scourge to the rebellion and the nobility alike, so thereare probably references to the Shadow or something along those lines. A figureof smoke and mirrors, a supernatural assassin who always gets their target. Butno one knows it’s them, so that doesn’t really count. Other than that there’ssmaller (but so much more important) titles like “beloveddaughter”, “precious bird”, and so on. 

TemperanceLady Temperance Abycan of Tergeste is her official title.

Whispernah

Rayanot yet

4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’sa good and bad memory with them? Did they know both parents? JayHe had a pretty normal, happy childhood. He loves his parents, even if they’resomewhat overbearing sometimes. His mother got him his apprenticeship at thelocal blacksmith, which he’s very grateful for, and his father introduced himto his faith even before he became a cleric.

A particularly good memory would be after the battle for hishometown, when he returned to find them both safe and (mostly) healthy.,knowing that he managed to protect them.

MoranaShe doesn’t remember much about her parents, seeing as they died when she wasyoung. She remembers warmth, and love. She remembers the smell of the stews herfather would make, napping close to the heat of the fire, leaned against herfather as he would occasionally tend to the food or the fire. She remembers hermother telling her stories, great tales of history, rich with adventures andtreasure and people at the core of it all.

These are good memories. The worst memory of her childhoodis one she only recently regained through some divine intervention: seeing herparents be forced to summon the devil Mephisto, seeing him kill them, and thenhaving him mark her.

SurinaDragonborn don’t ascribe to the traditional family structures of most other races.Similar to the qunari in Dragon Age, children are raised communally, away fromtheir birth parents. Surina was also raised in such a cohort with otheryounglings her age. She doesn’t remember the people who gave life to her, andshe really doesn’t care.KeijiKeiji was also raised somewhat communally, but that’s because his parentsdied on a mission not too long after he was born. They were part of a monasticorder dedicated to Pelor, and he was raised by them. He wanted to fit in, hereally did, but he was always something of a troublemaker with a casualdisregard for rules, so he didn’t really get along with the headmaster.

Most of his good memories revolve around Rin, anotherapprentice. She was a few years older than him and he saw her as an oldersister (but then the cool kind of older sister, who teaches you how to picklocks and parkour around guard patrols so you can steal the good liquor fromthe head monk’s desk).

TanwenShe loves her parents, even if the relationship got somewhat strained afterher sister died and she had to leave on a vision quest. She always wanted tostay close to home, to take over her family’s farm and find a family, but well.

She spent a lot of time exploring the woods with her youngersister and their dog when she was younger, which were great times. She was bestat treeclimbing, but her sister was faster, and they could sit and talk forhours.

Her worst memory, well. The fights she wasn’t supposed tohear but heard anyway as her parents argued over her path in life (follow theuncertain path of a god’s chosen, or ignore her calling and stay close to home)are pretty high up there.

ValThey don’t remember much of their birth parents, and what they do remember theydo their best to ignore. They still sometimes get nightmares, dreams where theyfeel warm and loved and safe, they’re held close, surrounded by a familiarscent that they can never remember upon waking, but when they do open theireyes they can’t stop crying. It’s an unforgivable sign of weakness, but the feelingof loss and the sense that they’re missing something is toobig to push down.

TemperanceShe’s an orphan, left on the doorstep of a church-run orphanage by a mother whodidn’t want to deal with a demon-touched child, so she doesn’t really havememories of her birth parents. She had a pretty bad relationship with the nunsat the orphanage, until she realised how easy it is to lie and manipulatepeople into doing what you want them to. After that, the nuns’ attitude towardsher improved tremendously.

WhisperWhisper didn’t really get along with her parents, mostly because they wantedher to be someone she’s not. They could be warm and close when they carefullysteered clear of subjects like religion and her plans for the future, but therewere a lot of screaming fights. 

A good memory were the times Whisper and her mother would behome alone and they’d improvise music together. Whisper has a beautiful singingvoice (something the church choir was grateful for) and her mother plays thepiano, so they’d while away long afternoons improvising music together. Hermother tried to teach her how to play the piano, but that… did not go well.

RayaRaya has a pretty goodrelationship with her mothers still, when she’s in the area she’ll always comeby to visit. They were a happy family when she was younger, even if one of hermothers never got over being startled when she accidentally shifted into yetanother dangerous predator.

She bonded a lotwith her other mother over being a druid, and the time they spent together asshe learned how to control her magic is very precious to her still.

6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Didthey finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects didthey enjoy? Which did they hate?JayJay never got a formal education cause, well, peasant in a DnD setting. He wasapprenticed to a blacksmith and he liked that a lot, he loves working with hishands and making something tangible, and he seemed to have a gift for workingwith metal. When he turned out to have cleric powers he maybe should’ve,y’know, studied religion and religious history and all that, but also fuckthat. He was never a fan of book learning, and suddenly being able to healpeople with a touch and a few words doesn’t change that.

MoranaShe a nerd. Even as a kid she’d read anything she could get her hands on,though she was especially interested in ancient history. When she was oldenough she went to Wizard College™, where there’d hopefully be more to readthan the rather meagre library of her mountainous clan. There was, and she wasa good student even if she was often more invested in her own research, ratherthan whatever was on the curriculum. She didn’t manage to finish her studies,given how the whole “summon a devil so you can get a first-hand source on theirculture rather than only legends and myths” plan didn’t really go so well.

SurinaShe excelled at military strategy,though she preferred practical combat lessons over most other subjects. In linewith that, she was trained to and became an officer, leading her own squad andon her way to greater things when that plan was sadly derailed.

KeijiHe’s the annoying kid that neverstudies yet still gets decent grades. How?? Not even he knows. He wasn’t reallya fan of most theoretical classes, considering he didn’t care about most ofthem, vastly preferring the practical lessons. One thing he was interested inwas languages, though he kept that fairly quiet (cause showing genuine interestin things is for losers). He studied them on his own time, and he’s fluent inquite a few languages.

TanwenShe tried, she really did, but no one told her that being a cleric wouldinvolve this much sitting down and reading.She hated it from the bottom of her heart, and though that hate has tempered somewhat,being told she has to read something still incites a knee-jerk irritation.

ValThey’re a quiet and conscientious student, a quick learner (it’s one of thefirst things they learned after all, how to not disappoint). They don’t have apreference for subjects, as all knowledge is similarly useful. Quietly though,they are more drawn towards theoretical lessons, where there is no chance oftraining accidents.

Their one weak point is magic lessons, given their wildmagic. Temperance has tried her level best to train it out of them, but she’scome to accept them for who they are, magic misfires and all.

TemperanceShe didn’t go to school, but the nuns taught her and the other girls how tobalance a checkbook, how to sow, how to smile and be polite and pleasant, allskills necessary for securing a husband and running a household. She taughtherself magic from a wizard’s spellbook she found, and she found she excelledat charms and other mental manipulation.

Whisperooooh boy. Her parents wanted her to join the clergy like them, so theygave her a v religion focused education as she grew up. She hated it. She’dsneak out of lessons and assigned study time as often as she could, parkouringaround the city instead. She much preferred studying under Asp to be a ranger.

RayaShe wasn’t really focused on a formal education either. She inherited herdruidic powers from one of her mothers, so she was pretty home-schooled in thatregard. There weren’t many books involved, it was very much a gut-feeling kindathing, which she was grateful for.

8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as anadult? Do they like animals? JayHe likes big dogs, though hedidn’t have a pet as a child. He’d like to get a dog, but adventuring is adangerous hobby, so he wants to wait until he has settled down.

MoranaShe was never really a big fan of animals, though she liked birds. She’s gaineda newfound appreciation for wolves though.

SurinaShe’s not a fan of pets, thoughshe likes useful animals, like whatever her country uses as wardogs (probablysome form of insects, knowing Athas).

KeijiThere were no pets at themonastery, and even after he’s never really considered the idea of owning one.His opinion on animals is mostly just ???

Tanwendisney princess. She gets along with any and all animals. Even the onesthat could kill her. Especially the ones that are trying to kill her. She had adog as a kid, and she’d like to have pets again someday when her life is not sodangerous.

ValThey sometimes pet street cats when they’re out on a mission and have somespare time, but that’s the extent of their interactions with animals.

TemperanceShe used to want a cat. She still wants a cat, if only for the aesthetic,but all cats hate her guts. They have good instincts.

WhisperShe loves birds, especially birds of prey. She didn’t have a pet as achild, though she always begged her parents for a bird. She still one day wantsto tame an owl and keep it.

RayaShe sees animals as friends, notpets. She spends a lot of time hanging out in animal form with variouspopulations, but she’d never want to own them.

10. Do they like children? Do children like them? Do theyhave or want any children? What would they be like as a parent? Or as agodparent/babysitter/ect?JayHe’s pretty good with children. Hewants to make a family eventually, but it’s a far off in the future kinda plan.

MoranaShe’s pretty neutral on children.If she were to ever have children she wants to adopt, especially with what shenow knows about Mephisto. Whatever mark he’s left on her, she doesn’t want torisk passing it on.

SurinaShe says she’s alright withchildren. Do not believe her. Her views on child safety are not to be trusted.

Keiji?? why. Get these things away fromhim.

nah he’s not thatoutspoken. He mostly just doesn’t know what to do with children.

TanwenShe loves kids. She fusses a lotover them, but she’s a great older sister, and she’d make a good mom someday.

ValNo opinion. They like taking careof the younger kids at the school, though it’s sometimes hard to see them beingreplaced so often.

TemperanceShe has a place to play-act atbeing a mother, aka the school. That’s really all she needs. She doesn’t want achild for sentimental reasons, and she really only cares about personal power(not setting up a dynasty), so she doesn’t need an heir for that either.

WhisperLargely neutral. She’s Too Cool™for caring anyway so y’know

RayaCubs are cute.

12. What is their favourite food? Jay?? I have no idea I’m sorry

MoranaShe loves stews, mostly becausethey remind her of home.

SurinaSweet baked goods (not that she’dadmit that to anyone)

Keijithe dnd equivalent of junkfood

TanwenFruits, berries, that kinda deal.

ValCookies. They don’t get the chanceto make them very often, but every so often they’ll bake cookies with theyounger children.

TemperanceShe enjoys fancy cuisine just forthe fact that’s it’s expensive and fancy. She likes getting to revel in herstatus.

WhisperHot chocolate. It was a bit morecommon when she still lived with her parents, but after she left with Asp itbecame a very rare treat, which made her enjoy it even more.

Raya?? no idea

14. Do they have any specific memories of food/arestaurant/meal?Jayno??

MoranaI’ve pretty much covered thisalready, but yea. Spending time with her dad as he made stew.

SurinaHer best (and only) friend fromchildhood, Jarrash, became a baker in the city while she joined the military.They couldn’t see each other often anymore as adults, but she treasures thetimes spent together when she did happen to be in the city and she’d go visithis bakery.

Keijinot really

TanwenShe found a little grove with somefruit trees in her time spent in the forest. That was a spot she visited oftenover the years.

ValAlready covered that.

Temperancenothing specific

WhisperToo many to count, most related toAsp and their life together after she became his apprentice.

Rayanot really

16. Do they collect anything? What do they do with it?Where do they keep it? JayRare metals, crystals/gems, any materials he can find that catch his eye.There’s a reason he’s so fucking buff and it’s because of all the shit he keepsferreting away into his backpack which he then has to carry.

MoranaBooks, mostly for research. She currently keeps them on their sanddasher.

SurinaKills. But no nothing physical,she doesn’t take trophies or anything like that.

KeijiIn the college au, pillows. Hisbed is like 90% pillow it’s a wonder how he even sleeps in it. He doesn’treally collect things in his canon tho. Maybe cities he can’t go back to causewhoops he sure done fucked up there and now he may be kinda wanted

Tanwenthe way it’s going, traumas. Butthat’s not really a voluntary collection on her part.

Valnope

Temperance…do her birds count ascollectibles. I mean in her mind they do so that’s what I’m going with. They’rea treasured collection she’s quite proud of them

WhisperShe sometimes takes trophies from successful hunts. She has a harpy featherfrom the first time she led a hunt, and she’ll probably accumulate a few more duringher adventures. She’d wear them as accessories, or put them on her bow or herarmour maybe.

RayaSeeds from plants she encounters.

18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tvshows, films, video games and anything elseJayin a modern au, probably terriblereality tv. In his canon, I’m not really sure.

MoranaHistorical epics. Myths, legends,tales of wars won and lost.

SurinaShe doesn’t really do non-fiction,but she does like swapping stories about old battles around a campfire.

KeijiHe’d deny it, but he has a softspot for cheesy romance. Mostly he’ll read truly terrible romance novels justto make fun of them (and so he can quote them at people and make them cringe),but sometimes he finds a gem he truly enjoys.

TanwenUnironically reads the cheesiestof romances. She’s a romantic at heart, even if her taste in literature israther terrible

ValThey don’t have a lot of leisuretime for reading and the like (other than some required popular works so theywon’t miss any references and stand out), but they like aesthetic performanceart (if that makes sense). There was a ribbon dancing performance in Tergesteat one point and they were entranced. Anything that manages to convey emotionand intent purely through physicality and aesthetics.

Temperancemanuals on how to emotionallyabuse and brainwash young children. she keeps them under her pillow. (nah sheprobably mostly just reads to keep up with popular trends so she knows whateveryone’s talking about) She likes theatre though, she likes peoplewatchingand talking shit about the actors (depending on who she’s with)

WhisperStories about heroes, folk heroeswho make their way from humble beginnings to saving the world, legendaryheroes, anything she can get her hands on.

Rayastories about animals, cause she’sa fucking furry

20. Do they like musicals? Music in general? What do theydo when they’re favourite song comes?(this kinda turned into fave musicgenre whoops sorry. also modern au cause more choice in music)JayHis singing voice is pretty rough,but he’s fond of music, and he’ll always quietly sing along. He’s really goodat lullabies for some reason??

MoranaMusicals are not really her thing,pretty neutral about music as well.

SurinaShe’d work out to like really zenand calming music. No one understands how, but she makes it work.

KeijiHis taste in music is all over theplace man, including things that he’d keep on his phone just for Irony™. It’s aminefield don’t ever give him control over music at a party. Actually somewhatdecent at singing, though he rarely uses it.

TanwenAcoustic piano music, femalevocals, some pop music. She’s not that good at keeping a tune but she has areally sweet and gentle singing voice it’s nice.

ValSymphonic metal and more in thatcorner of genres, the classic emo bands.

TemperanceClassical music, Nicki Minaj,country songs about women killing their husbands. It’s kinda all over theplace. To her eternal shame she can’t sing for shit her voice is absolutelyterrible

WhisperOnly listens to Cool Kid Musiclike punk rock. Has a very hidden secret folder of Taylor Swift songs and thelike that she only listens to on special occasions. She has the voice of anangel, and she used to be in a choir when she was younger, but she doesn’t singoften and really only in private. It’s too much of a reminder.

RayaForest ambientmood always. Alsosome slow music, things that just generally set a peaceful mood. Has an alrightsinging voice, nothing particularly special. She’ll sometimes sing to theplants on her rooftop garden cause she wants them to be happy.

22. What are their favourite insults to use? What do theyinsult people for? Or do they prefer to bitch behind someone’s back?JayHe will bitch endlessly aboutthose prissy nobles in their fancy goddamn castles, haven’t done a hard day’swork in their lives, but he usually keeps that to an inner monologue. He won’tinsult people often, though he has little patience for incompetence in peoplein leadership positions.

MoranaIf she doesn’t like you, you willknow. She doesn’t really have a go to insult, she improvises.  Generally though, if someone’s pissing heroff in conversation she’ll draw back into a very sharp sort of arrogance.

SurinaShe doesn’t lie, but she alsodoesn’t air her opinions, though Sylta has managed to push her buttons morethan a few times. Clanless is something she calls those lawless people outsidedragonborn society, though she usually saves it for when people are beingparticularly dishonourable.

KeijiHe’s very creative. He’ll snark tono end even in casual conversation, but if he really wants to annoy someone hisbarbs get a lot sharper and more pointed.

TanwenShe rarely ever actually insultspeople, mostly cause she’s tried very hard to train herself into not thinkingbadly about people. She’s a bit too honest and blunt sometimes, but that’s notout of malice.

ValThey’ve mastered the backhandedcompliment for when it is appropriate. They almost always keep their opinionsto themself though, and they’ll use whatever insults are appropriate for theircurrent disguise if the situation calls for it.

TemperanceShe mostly bitches about peoplebehind their backs (often to Chal), but she’s also a master of the backhandedcompliment.

WhisperShe tries, she really does,  but her insults are hilariously pathetic. Shedoesn’t do words well under pressure, so she’ll often flap out some reallyunimpressive insult. “Cracked walnut!” is a classic.

RayaShe believes in actions more so than words, but she’s rather blunt with herwords still when she chooses to use them. If she doesn’t just leave thesituation entirely, she’ll just straight up tell the person why she thinksthey’re unpleasant, rather than coming up with some creative insult.

24. What is their sleeping pattern like? Do they snore?What do they like to sleep on? A soft or hard mattress?JayHe’s actually a fairly heavysleeper, which is not a good habit for an adventurer. Doesn’t snore, and thoughhe prefers soft mattresses he’s pretty used to bedrolls and terrible inns bynow.

MoranaAnswered here

SurinaAnswered here

KeijiAnswered here

TanwenAnswered here

ValAnswered here

TemperanceA light sleeper, with theoccasional nightmare. Her bed is quite comfortable though, a large four-posterwith plenty of pillows on them. Most of them she had Val steal from variousassassination targets. It makes them even more comfortable.

WhisperAnswered here

RayaAnswered here

26. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing?Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions? JayHe doesn’t usually bother with hiding his emotions and he also doesn’t hidehis happiness. He’s still somewhat contained about it, the most you’ll get is asmile and laughter.

MoranaShe doesn’t show a lot of outward signs of happiness but she’ll be morerelaxed, more prone to smiling, more affectionate. Just a bit looser ingeneral.

SurinaShe rarely lets her guard downaround people she doesn’t completely trust, but when she feels safe and happyshe’ll actually smile, she’ll talk more, be more prone to affectionate words.

KeijiHe has no problems broadcastinghis amusement, his exhilarated joy during battle, his glee at managing to fuckover some pompous asshole, but he’ll almost always hide genuine happinessunless he’s around close friends or a significant other. When he’s really happyhe just softens. He’ll get more touchy, drop the snark (mostly), and just bemore honest in general.

TanwenShe’s all smiles, even more so than usual. All The Hugs. Prone to randomdeclarations of affection and just getting really bubbly and excited abouteverything.

Valwhat is happiness. even in aus where they get out they’re still fairlycontained in their happiness, though they’ll actually smile and emote and showthat they’re happy without worrying about how it’ll be perceived.

TemperanceHer being happy is rarely a good thing for anyone. Her happiness most oftencomes when she fucks over someone else, so there’s always a touch of arroganceand smug satisfaction to it. She’ll treat herself by doing some luxuriousself-care routine or the like, or treat herself to a particularly nice bottleof liquor (and drink immediately cause like hell will she let the conman stealthis one) (chal can have it he’s allowed) (not that she’d tell him that)

WhisperShe tries to hide it cause happiness isn’t Cool™ but she’s really easy toread. She’ll light up, she’s all smiles and she can’t stop talking aboutwhatever it is she’s so happy about. Or really, whatever’s caught her interestin that particular moment. It’s adorable.

RayaShe’s a very tactile person ingeneral, but even more so when she’s happy. She’ll sometimes go panther andjust curl up around people and purr. She has something of a rusty purr whenshe’s in her elven form as well, but sometimes she prefers cuddling in animalform.

28. What is their biggest fear? What in general scaresthem? How do they act when they’re scared?JayOne of his fears is that somethingwill happen to his family in his absence, that they’ll be hurt (or worse,killed) while he’s off on an adventure that he doesn’t really want to be on inthe first place. He goes very quiet when scared, and he tends to distracthimself by getting protective and defensive.

MoranaAnswered here. When scared, she either goes quiet (whenshe’s faced with something so far beyond her she can’t do anything, or anythingshe can’t fight), or she lashes out, albeit physically or with words.

SurinaAnswered here. She isn’t scared often, and even when sheis she’ll often push it down in favour of taking action. She’ll do what needsto be done first, there’s time for fear later, when everyone’s safe.

KeijiAnswered here. He goes pale, his hands start trembling,and he’ll get a little frantic (or very frantic, depending on how scared he is)about trying to get away from the situation. If it’s a situation he can’timmediately get out of he either stops talking or doesn’t stop talking in anattempt to distract himself (and convince everyone he’s totally fine)

TanwenAnswered here. She cries when she’s scared. She’ll havetrouble regulating her breathing as well. She tends to try and surround herselfwith people, or find reassurance in physical touch.

ValAnswered here. As with most emotions, they don’t reallyshow any outward sign of fear.

TemperanceLosing control, feeling powerless.She’s used to being the manipulator, controlling events from the shadows. Shehad plenty of time to feel powerless during her childhood,  and she never wants to return to that. She’dinitially flip towards anger if she gets scared, getting defensive and tryingto get out of the situation. If that doesn’t work, she’d pull out any weapon inher arsenal to get out.

WhisperAnswered here. She gets loud when she’s scared, turningup the rambling and the bluster in an attempt to cover up her fear. In asituation where that isn’t an option she’ll start fidgeting with anything andeverything.

RayaAnswered here. She’ll often revert to animal forms whenscared, prowling around people close to her and rubbing against their legs.Intense emotions like that are easier to deal with when she’s like that, soit’s a common coping tactic for her.

30. Do they exercise? Regularly? Or only when forced?What do they act like pre-work out and post-work out?JayHe doesn’t exercise just for thesake of exercising,  but working at theforge is pretty hard work so it has the same effect.

MoranaHer idea of a work-out is holdinga book up over her head when she’s reading in bed.

SurinaShe has a morning work-out routinethat she keeps up. She likes the routine of it, and it’s a reminder of home.

KeijiHe meditates every morning, and Iimagine he also does some pretty regular training. Gotta keep those skillssharp.

TanwenNot really. There are the trainingsessions given to her by Rhogash both when they were still in the Underdark andjust before he left, but that wasn’t a regular thing.

ValThey keep their skills sharp bygoing on missions often, they don’t have a regular exercise routine.

Temperancehell no

WhisperNo exercise routine, but she leadsa pretty active lifestyle in general.

Rayanope

32. What do they dress like? What sorta shops do they buyclothes from? Do they wear the fashion that they like? What do they wear tosleep? Do they wear makeup? What’s their hair like?JayPractical. Lots of pockets andpouches to ferret away things he finds. In his canon you’ll most often find himin heavy armour, his glaive close at hand, or in simply but sturdy clothes andlike a heavy apron for when he’s working at the forge. He wears a simple ironcog on a leather band around his neck he made himself, his holy symbol. Hisears are also pierced, with two studs each. He’ll sometimes wear prettierearrings, but given how it’s not very practical he usually saves that for whenhe’s in a situation where he’s sure he’s safe.

MoranaIn modern AUs, she tends to coverup a lot. Long sleeves, turtlenecks, that kinda thing, cause she has prettyintense burns covering most of her body in those. A constant though is thatshe’s fairly simplistic when it comes to fashion, she’s not really a fan ofjewellery and such adornments.

SurinaAlso quite practical. In modern AUsshe’d have that military aesthetic going on (also cause y’know she’d actuallybe in the army). In her canon she sticks mainly to simple but functionalarmour.

KeijiIn canon, something quite similarto Kaecilius from the Doctor Strange movie. Simple black underclothes, with agolden sash/overshirt type thing with Pelor’s symbol embroidered onto it. In amodern au, it could vary wildly. He can pull off a suit no problem (he’s hadplenty of practice), but especially because of that he tends to prefer casuallooks during his day to day. Also never lend him a sweater you won’t get itback. He totally went through a punk phase.

TanwenIn canon, mostly armour. She’dlike to wear pretty dresses sometimes, but she never really has the chance. Heronly jewellery is an amulet with a spider engraved on it, a reminder of when agroup of prisoners got caught in one of her spells and she accidentally killedthem. In a modern au, it’d be skirts and dresses whenever she can get away withit. Light colours, light fabrics, lots of swish. She has more practical outfitsas well for her labs and for when she volunteers at the local hospital, butyea.

ValWhatever is most practical. Theyhave a plethora of disguises at their disposal and outfits for any layer ofsociety. Around the house they default to simple pants and a shirt. They likegoing around barefoot at home, because it’s something they can really only dowhen they’re in a safe space. In a modern au, they have a more punk aesthetic.They don’t leave the house without their leather jacket which is covered inpins (unless Lytte is wearing, in which case they also don’t leave the housebecause they’re Compromised), heavy boots, dramatic make up, chokers.

TemperanceFancy as fuck. Tergeste is aVictorian-styled city, so those kinds of fashions. She tends to wear mostlydark colours, to offset how white everything else about her is. Tasteful makeup, expensive but not garish jewellery, her hair pinned up in the latestfashions. She’ll be somewhat less done up when she’s just around her birds, butthere’s always a level of polish to her appearance. In modern aus she stilloften has her hair in some braided updo, but her clothes are less fancy. Stillhigh-quality and stylish, but y’know more like normal people. She still tends towardsformal clothing more often than not, but it’s more business casual. (is that aterm? I feel like that’s a term)

WhisperWorn and dirty leather armour, adappled grey cloak that’s useful for mountain camo but stands out like a damnbeacon anywhere else. She wears a necklace with an iridescent blue feather anda simple, but lovingly carved wooden symbol of Bahamut over her armour. Noearrings, cause while she wanted to get them she wimped out just before. In amodern au she flips between Edgy™ looks, shirts from metal bands she’s neverbeen to, that kinda thing, and very practical boots, cargo pants, long-sleevedshirt looks for when she’s on trips or out survivaling or whatever she gets upto. She always wears a simple cross necklace, but she keeps it hidden andtucked away under her clothing.

Rayalike, leaves? She doesn’t go intocivilisation often, so really the only reason she remembers to wear anything atall is because armour is practical for when you get into fights with uppitybandits. She likes making flower crowns though, and she’ll often druidcraftflower for whoever she’s traveling with and stick them in their hair or ontheir clothing. She favours feline forms for when she shifts, but idk if thatcounts as a fashion choice. For a modern au, she dresses like a damn hippie.She has very little concern for fashion and other people’s opinions, so any ofher outfits are a damn fashion nightmare. She looks like she got eaten by athrift shop, thrown up, and now she’s wearing whatever clothes happened tostick to her.

34. What is their body type? How tall are they? Do theylike their body?JayAt like 1,95m he’s pretty tall,and Strong™. Not like built like a bodybuilder cause that isn’t practicalmuscle at all, but yea he has some definition. He’s pretty okay with his body,no particularly positive or negative feelings.

MoranaShe’s also tall, average but solidbuild. She used to be pretty happy with her body, until she first got brandedby Treznor (a mark which she didn’t want the rest to know about, so she had tokeep her upper arm covered up), and then found out that her black skin isbecause she was marked by Mephisto as a child, not a natural thing. She’spretty fucked up about that realisation, and it’s really put her off thecolour.

SurinaTall and broad. She’s p much abrick wall of scales and teeth and scars it’s great fun. Though she canappreciate beauty she’s never seen the point of it for herself. Her body servesher well, and that’s all it needs to do.

Keijipretty and he knows it. He’s shortand slight, about 1,60. He doesn’t seem like much, but he moves with a sort ofpredatory grace, and that’s really not about body type at all well done me. Helikes his body.

TanwenShe could be called willowy if itweren’t for the surprising amount of muscle she’s built up. Adventuring’s hardwork yo. Still, about 1,70 and relatively slim, most of her bulk comes from herarmour. She likes her body, though she doesn’t like how dangerous she looksnowadays, with the muscle and the scars she’s gained. It’s an unpleasantreminder of just how much danger everyone’s in on a daily basis.

ValAverage height, average build,unremarkable facial features. The kind of face you could see in a crowd andthen immediately forget. The one thing that stands out is a scar bisectingtheir left eye, and that eye is a prosthetic of a slightly mismatched colour.Scars on their ankles and wrists from restraints. They don’t have an opinion ontheir body.

TemperanceTall (about 180), and on the curvyside. A damn ghost, with white skin, white hair, and pupil-less white eyes.Pale curling ram’s horns frame her face, and she has a thick, prehensile tailas well as hooves. She’s somewhat regal in the way she carries herself, alwayspoised, always composed. She likes her body, she’s proud of her tieflingfeatures.

WhisperShe’s on the short side, at about155. Surprisingly muscled arms and back, mostly from archery. Despite nothaving a recent growth spurt or being all that tall, she moves like a ganglypuppy. It’s adorable. She’d like to be taller so she could tower over peopleand be intimidating, but that’s the only real gripe she has with her body.

RayaAverage height, lean build. She’s unhappy with her body sometimes, butthat’s mainly because it’s merely elven. She’s so used to her multitude ofshapes and forms that her own body feels rather limited sometimes.

36. What are they good at? What hobbies do they like? Canthey sing?JayAnything practical, though weaponand armour smithing is his specialty. It’s his main hobby as well, it’ssomething he spends a lot of time on.

MoranaShe’s pretty good at burningenemies with hellfire? But nah she’s a Nerd™. She likes researching anythingshe can get her hands on in her spare time, or just reading for fun.

Surina what is fun

Keijibeing a sneaky little shit andkicking ass. He’s also pretty good at woodcarving. Nothing large or dramatic,just simple things. He likes carving little birds to keep his hands busy duringlong watches.

Tanwenshe’s got those healing handsbaby. I have no idea what that was and I am so sorry. But yea, her main talentis her gift for healing. She likes reading cheesy romance novels in her sparetime, and she loves hearing people talk about love or romance.

ValThey’re very good at what they do(as they should be, given the amount of time Temperance has invested in them).They don’t really have a lot of spare time for hobbies, though. One thing theyenjoy is watching the stars, and spending time with the younger children in theschool.

TemperanceShe excels at manipulating thosearound her. Her ambitions and her birds are quite a timesink though, so shedoesn’t have a lot of time for hobbies. She does regularly spend time with Chaland The Conman, which usually ends up with her and The Conman sassing eachother while Chal rolls his eyes a lot.

WhisperShe’s a great hunter, she lovesthe process of tracking a beast, sneaking up on it, etc. It’s a fun challenge.It’s pretty much the one situation where she’s actually in her element and notputting up a front.

RayaShe’s quite good at gardening,what with being a druid and all. She doesn’t often settle down for long enoughto make her own garden, but she’d like to. Her main hobby is frolicking inmeadows it’s great fun.

38. What do they admire in others? What talents do theywish they had?JayDetermination, if that makessense? People who have a clear goal for their life and who are working towardsthat. He’s just kinda floating along, taking things as they happen, and thatattitude is something he admires.

MoranaShe admires people who can stillbe soft in this world.  Who can opentheir hearts and be kind regardless of the harshness and danger that’s soprevalent everywhere around them.

SurinaExpertise, no matter the field.

KeijiNormally I’d say honesty, peoplewho can just say what they’re feeling, cause that plays into the whole “peopleadmires things they’re not”. But honestly (heh) those people baffle him morethan he admires them. He just. Doesn’t understand why you’d do that. There’snot really one singular trait he admires in people, though he’s drawn to asharp wit.

TanwenConfidence.  Even if she doesn’t show it, she doubtsherself and her choices a lot. She admires people who can stand behind theirchoices with zero doubt.

ValNothing really? They practicallyworship Temperance, but that’s not really admiration. Yea I don’t think theyreally have any traits they admire, cause that’s a thing people do and they’renot a person.

TemperanceAnother difficult one. I’m gonnahave to go with nothing again, because admiration requires seeing someone as atleast an equal, if not above you. She just doesn’t see people as people.They’re game pieces, pawns to be directed and used. Chal’s the only one exemptfrom that, and though she loves him she doesn’t admire him either. She respectsthe Conman, but again, no admiration.

WhisperShe admires, more as an abstractconcept than anything concrete. She admires people who stand up for the weak,no matter what. People who’re respectful and kind and who’ll keep fighting nomatter what’s standing in their way.

RayaShe doesn’t really interact with other people a whole lot, but when shedoes she’s drawn to those close to nature, those with a love for animals. Thosesimilar to herself really. She’s confused but impressed by people with actualsocial skills. the real cryptids

40. Do they like energy drinks? Coffee? Sugary food? Orcan they naturally stay awake and alert?(assuming the college au wherecoffee is actually available)JayNot really, mostly cause they makehis hands v jittery.

MoranaNot a lot usually, but during examweek? Coffee all day every day. How else is she gonna pull those allnighters.Rorik has had to shepherd her to bed on more than one occasion.

SurinaShe doesn’t like having to rely onexternal stimulants to stay awake, so only in extremely rare cases. And thenit’s usually black coffee, nothing too sugary.

KeijiBlack coffee is his mortal enemy,though he has learned how to drink it. Doesn’t mean he likes it though, andwhen he has to stay awake he usually defaults to energy drinks. Consideringthat he’s doing like another half major on the side, this is often.

TanwenShe likes Starbucks, but shedoesn’t drink coffee purely to stay awake. She doesn’t like the taste of coffeeanyway so her Starbucks drinks are sugary monstrosities.

ValThey usually manage to stay alertpretty well on their own, but sometimes you just gotta chug 4 straightespressos.

TemperanceShe prefers tea over coffee, blacktea when she needs a boost.

WhisperShe doesn’t really like the tasteof either, so she makes do without.

RayaShe prefers making her own herbalteas.

42. What are their goals? What would they sacrificeanything for? What is their secret ambition?JayHe doesn’t really have any. Whathe really wants is to just return home, inherit his master’s forge, and justwork on his projects in peace.

MoranaFreedom. She wants to be free fromTreznor’s brand, free from Mephisto’s deal constantly looming over her. Shedoesn’t want to be afraid anymore. She’d do quite a lot to get there, and thelines of just how far she’d go are getting increasingly blurry.

SurinaRevenge. She wants to killVethrel, and either clear her name or die during the battle. She’d go pretty damnfar for that, though she’ll avoid collateral damage if she can.

Keiji¯\_(ツ)_/¯ he just wants tohave a good time. Maybe lowkey die, just a little. For now, he just wants tolive the good life and get as far away from his old home as he can manage.

TanwenPeace. She just wants to be ableto stop fighting. To stop being in danger, to stop having to put her friends indanger. But she can’t do that as long as there are innocent civilians beingthreatened.

ValObedience. They want to serveTemperance best they can, to remain useful lest they be discarded. They’ll doanything to make sure that never happens.

TemperancePower. She wants to rule this cityfrom the shadow, to sink her claws into it until she can twist any events inher favour with a word. There are pretty much no limits as to how far she’llgo.

WhisperRecognition. She wants to be afamous hero, to have confirmation that she made the right choice by leaving.She thinks she might do some morally neutral things to get there, but when pushcomes to shove she would choose to protect people over hurting them any time.

RayaShe doesn’t really have any largegoals either. She’s content to live as a nomad, traveling where the wind takesher. She’ll occasionally chase down primal shrines if she catches wind of them,to make sure they are safe and to do what she can to honour and protect them,but it’s not a life goal for her.

44. What is their favourite season? Type of weather? Arethey good in the cold or the heat? What weather do they complain in themost? JayHe’s from a relatively northerntown, so he’s more used to the cold. Somehow, despite being used to working inthe heat, he still hates when the weather gets too hot.

MoranaShe’s actually quite glad theycame to Athas, as the hot desert weather is quite nice for her. She’ll startbundling up as soon as it gets somewhat cold, though she won’t complain aboutit (much).

SurinaSimilar to Morana, she’s quitefond of the dry desert heat. She’s far less fond of the cold of Cruinne-ce, butshe won’t complain about it. she just. steadily puts on more and more layers. Shelikes thunder storms though, as a lightning dragonborn it always makes her feelat ease.

KeijiHe’s impervious to temperature?? Noone understands. He can wear the same thing in basically any weathercircumstance. He’ll cover up more when the temperature nears zero, he’s notthat bad, but yea. it’s weird.

TanwenShe’s from a rather temperatearea, so any shift in temperature throws her off. She tries not to complainabout it (too much) but it does show.

ValIt depends on what they’re doing. Theylike clear skies when they return from missions, so they can see the stars. Anovercast sky and rain is often more useful though, as it limits visibility.

TemperanceShe likes some dramatic rain,especially since 95% of the time she can stay cozy inside while it happens.Temperature-wise, she’s better at dealing with hot weather than the cold, whichis something of a shame as Tergeste tends towards cold and wet.

WhisperShe does well in the cold, thoughif she knows someone well enough she also won’t hesitate to stick her ice coldhands under their shirt. She will complain about the heat, then remember heroesdon’t complain and shut up for a while, get fed up and complain, and repeatthat ad infinitum.

RayaShe loves thunderstorms. She loves feeling the energy crackle in the air, lovesthe displays of natural power. She gets cold easily, but when she does sheusually just shifts into something with a thick furcoat so she doesn’t have todeal.

46. Do they make a good first impression? Does theirfirst impression reflect them accurately? How do they introduce themselves?JayHe makes a pretty good firstimpression, unless you’re a noble. Then he comes off as far more suspiciousthan he usually is.

MoranaShe’s rather cold and distant whenshe first meets people, it takes her a while to warm up to them. Especiallyrecently, with everything that’s going on, she hasn’t really been welcoming tothe new party members.

SurinaHer introductions aren’t usuallyfriendly, but neither is she. So while the first impression isn’t necessarilygood, it’s also not wrong.

KeijiPolite and charming, for mostpeople. A side of snark if he doesn’t immediately need something from you, orif you seem like someone who could give back as good as they get. So yea no reallynot accurate in most cases.

TanwenFriendly and eager, she’s alwaysexcited to meet new people. Her introductions can be a tad awkward at times, asshe tends to forget social protocol, but it’s a pretty accurate reflection ofher.

ValDepends entirely on the target andwho they are at that moment.

TemperanceDepends on who she’s talking toand what she wants from them. Can range from intimidating/scary but hot as hellto a poster girl of good manners and friendly charm.

WhisperAwkward as a rule. She tries to be cool and make a good  first impression, and almost always comes offas “trying too hard”. Which, to be honest, is a pretty good description of herso hey y’know

RayaWell first of all it depends onwhether you’re talking to her in her elven form or one of her animal forms.Uncomfortably long eye contact is a constant though, as is a pretty universallack of tact or manners. She doesn’t come off as unfriendly or hostile,necessarily, just really fuckin’ weird.

48. Do they enjoy any parties? If so what kind? Do theyorganise the party or just turn up? How do they act? What if they didn’t wantto go but were dragged along by a friend? (again for the college au)JayHe’s alright with parties. Hemostly goes when he knows at least some friends are going, but he’ll enjoyhimself even if it’s all strangers.

Moranano.

Rorik might be ableto drag her along to a party, but she’d be there purely for him.

SurinaNot a fan.

Keijiyes are you kidding me. He, Wyatt,Scytta and Sylta throw the best parties on campus. He’s made some of his bestbad decisions at parties, including the first time he hooked up with Wyatt.

Tanwenawkward bean. What’s she doinghere who invited her. She doesn’t really go to wild parties, but she’ll go withfriends or if Ghilli asks her to. She’ll have the most fun if she sticks withpeople she knows, though she can get by alright on her own for a while.

ValThey don’t really like partieswhere there’s a lot of alcohol present for personal reasons, so they tend toavoid those. They prefer just spending time with friends in a more calmenvironment.

TemperanceNot too big a fan, though she’llturn up occasionally depending on who’s there.

Whispershe tried a few times, when shejust started college. It didn’t go well for anyone involved.

RayaShe prefers more quietenvironments.

50. If they could only take one bag of stuff somewherewith them: what would they pack? What do they consider their essentials? JaySome of his tools, general supplies, a weapon. Also more sentimental things,like mementos of his family and friends.

MoranaHer ritualbook, basic survival tools, that kinda thing. Mostly practicalthings. She doesn’t carry around anything of particular sentimental value.

SurinaHer journal, which she startedkeeping back home so it still has notes about her old unit and her time inAthas. Other than that, her general adventurer’s kit.

KeijiHe doesn’t really have anypersonal items he’s particularly attached to, so yea his adventuring kit.

TanwenHer shield and armour both have Eldath’s holy symbol on them and they weregiven to her by a couple who took her in when she was very lost, so she’d definitelywant to keep those close. Also one or two very worn books she carries around withher. Beyond that, her adventuring kit.

ValA basic disguise kit, various different disguises, a few hidden weapons,their lockpicking set, some funds to potentially get them out of a stickysituation. Just things that might come in useful.

TemperanceThat’s a hard one for her, considering she isn’t an adventurer like theothers, and how much she relies on others. Her spellbook is definitely vital. Withthat, she can rebuild basically wherever.

WhisperAsp’s bow, the symbol of Bahamut her parents gave her before she left, theharpy feather from her first hunt. She has an old and worn prayerbook at thebottom of her pack that she’ll take out and thumb through on special occasions.

RayaOther than some basic tools, she’s set as long as she’s in a natural area. She doesn’treally carry any mementos with her, and nature will provide whatever she couldneed to survive.

[storiesofwildfire]

Dahlia and Valencia – a headcanon

Author’s Note: Please keep in mind that Dahlia and Valencia were originally created for my Star Wars crossover verse (v; a prince or a jedi). Their stories change significantly when applied to that verse because they were lost in space as young children and actually grew up in the Star Wars universe. When interacting with either of them in this verse, please be aware that not everything below actually applies since they did not grow up on Asgard.

NAME: Dahlia Arosdottir AGE: 1,300 Asgardian years  GENDER: Female FACE CLAIM: Gal Gadot PARENTS: Aros Egilson ;; Largatha Bjornsdottir SIBLINGS: Valencia Arosdottor (twin sister) OTHER RELATIVES: None OCCUPATION: Warrior, sorceress, and explorer, often found leading expeditions beyond Yggdrasil for expansion and exploration.

RELATIONSHIP TO LOKI: Dahlia is one of Loki’s former mentors in combat and current friend.

STATUS ON BLOG: Secondary muse that is available for interaction for developed plots and people who already roleplay with Loki and wish to get to know other characters that make up his world. She may also show up in threads if it makes sense for her to make an appearance. Please be aware that Dahlia is the mun’s OC. She is not canon and is not available for public use.

BIO: Dahlia was born to a famed warrior and conquerer by the name of Aros Egilson. Aros became famous for his numerous conquests and expeditions that led him beyond the perimeter of Yggdrasil. Instead of focusing on the Nine Realms already in their system and under their protection, Aros took to the stars to explore, make trade connections, and gain new territories for Asgard.

Through determination, hard work, and the results he turned up, he quickly rose through the ranks of Asgard’s fleet and was eventually honored with the title of Fleet Admiral. It was at this point in Aros’ life that he had to take a step back from his constant travels. His responsibilities on Asgard and to not only his ship, but the entire Fleet, kept him grounded more often than he would have liked. 

With the seriousness of his position, he was forced to give up the freedom that his lesser ranks provided him.

Only once he secured this position did he actually take to the idea of having a family. He married a woman named Largatha and a few years after their wedding, they succeeded in conceiving twins. 

Dahlia and her sister, Valenica, were born shortly after and they quickly became Aros’ pride and joy. Many asked him if he would have preferred to have sons instead, but he would simply reply, “why have sons when my daughters will be Valkyries? They’ll be the stuff of legends.”

It became apparent at a young age that Dahlia had a love for exploration, much the same as her father. She spent hours upon hours daydreaming about what it would be like to travel, not through the Bifrost and into known realms, but to board a ship and travel out into the unknown. As her wanderlust grew, so did a few other key traits that defined her personality.

She developed a very low tolerance for formal education. While she was incredibly intelligent, she didn’t take her studies very seriously and, instead, spent most of her days on the training grounds alongside other warriors. She took to sparring quite well and matured her skills with a sword just as quickly. She took her father’s words to heart, that one day she would become legendary enough to become a Valkyrie, an elite group of female warriors sworn to protect the throne of Asgard. 

She could even be found doodling the mark of the Valkyrie on her inner arm in marker.

The only thing that really set Dahlia apart from the rest of the warriors that she trained with, oddly enough, was never her gender, but her magical abilities. Her sorcery developed at a young age and she found that she was extremely gifted with offensive spells that aided her already sharpened skills in battle. She often received criticism for using such magic, however, as many people claimed that she was cheating and that if she needed to rely on a witch’s tricks to win, she was no true warrior at all.

It was through her training and through her father’s direct connection to Odin that she met the princes. She trained alongside them and because she was slightly older than them both, she often aided in teaching them.

Loki was always a special case because, like her, he was skilled in both the ways of combat as well as the ways of magic. She took a great liking to sparring with him, because she never felt as if she had to hold anything back with Loki. They could fling daggers, punches, and hexes at one another for hours and constantly challenge the other to push harder. Their duels always brought the attention of everyone around them--even warriors who disapproved of magic in the midst of battle--because they were such a sight to behold. 

Dahlia got on rather well with Loki’s other sorcerer friends because of their mutual love of magic and their prowess as warriors.

Dahlia’s temper, however, was always something to be wary of. Her tolerance for annoyance and ignorance was lower than just about anyone else’s and it didn’t take much to entice her into violence.

Her rage, however, never really stood in the way of her compassion. She could kick someone down into the dirt one minute for being a right proper arse and the next, she’d be helping them up and getting them proper care for their injuries, usually by means of Valencia’s healing magic. 

Despite how hard she was on the exterior, Dahlia proved to have a sensitive side as well. She took a liking to art, though she had no true artistic abilities of her own. She decided to cover her body in whimsical tattoos and, much to everyone’s surprise, she actually possessed a beautiful singing voice. Only a lucky few ever got to hear it, though. She also took to writing in a journal every day, where she would catalog what happened that day and she would trust her innermost secrets to those pages.

Eventually, once she was old enough, Dahlia, along with her sister, Valencia, joined Asgard’s Fleet and together, they went off exploring the regions of unknown space, just as they’d always talked about doing.

Both siblings became skilled pilots and during their downtime in between expeditions, they helped teach the princes how to fly. Loki, Dahlia found, took quite well to piloting a ship. Thor, on the other hand, was never any good at it. She suspected that his hammer and his belief that he could, in fact, fly with it was what caused him to refuse to take such direction seriously. The elder prince was about as hard-headed as she was.

NAME: Valencia Arosdottir AGE: 1,300 Asgardian years GENDER: Female FACE CLAIM: Gal Gadot PARENTS: Aros Egilson ;; Largatha Bjornsdottir SIBLINGS: Dahlia Arosdottor (twin sister) OTHER RELATIVES: None OCCUPATION: Healer, sorceress, and explorer, often found leading expeditions beyond Yggdrasil for expansion and exploration.

RELATIONSHIP TO LOKI: Valencia is one of Loki’s former mentors in combat and current friend.

STATUS ON BLOG: Secondary muse that is available for interaction for developed plots and people who already roleplay with Loki and wish to get to know other characters that make up his world. She may also show up in threads if it makes sense for her to make an appearance. Please be aware that Valencia is the mun’s OC. She is not canon and is not available for public use.

BIO: Valencia always proved to be the softer and more generous of the twins. While her upbringing was nearly identical, Valencia proved to be Dahlia’s opposite in a lot of ways. They weren’t polar opposites by any means. Valencia and Dahlia both had a love of art, music, and exploration. They bonded over the similarities that they shared but they also bonded over how different they were.

While Dahlia took up a love of battle, Valencia’s sorcery lent itself more towards healing and creation. The twins were always equally matched in terms of how powerful their sorcery was, but they both excelled in different areas. For Valencia, her magic always came in the form of enchantments, illusions, and, most of all, healing. 

The only reason she took to combat practice at all was to ensure that she could defend herself in situations where magic failed her. She couldn’t easily join Asgard’s fleet and explore uncharted worlds without being able to protect her companions and herself.

She took well to long-distance combat, especially when it came to throwing knives and weapons specifically designed to keep a distance from one’s enemy. Her proficiency with a bow and arrows quickly rose off the charts and many younglings turned to her for lessons.

But she took a greater love in teaching other useful tricks, like first aid and how to scavenge for food. Dahlia took up the role as being the fighter, the protector, while Valencia took up the role of being the survivor. Without her skills and studies of how to survive off the land, how to locate water, how to navigate uncharted areas, and how to interact with creatures that may not understand you or might even be downright unfriendly proved to be just as vital to anyone who wished to participate in off-realm assignments as actual combat.

Some could argue that her skills were even more essential. Anyone could fight when backed into a corner, but not everyone knew how to survive in such harsh conditions.

Because of her kind and gentle nature, Valencia attracted a lot of attention from those around her. She often acted as something of a therapist, so while she healed physical wounds from training or battles, she would counsel those who sought her advice as well. Her sister always told her that she gave too much of herself to others. Perhaps that was true, but it was in Valencia’s nature to give as much as she could. She would give and she would give until she had nothing left to give and even then, she would attempt to give some more.

She often felt like she had to give so much of herself to those around her, however, that she developed a horrible habit of internalizing just about everything. She would often bottle up so much of her own stress and anxiety that even her sister couldn’t get through to her. It sent her into fits of depression and periods where she was always on the verge of an anxiety attack. She had an image to keep up and she had people to take care of. They could never see her crumble. 

Those ailments still plague her to this day, though she’s found healthier ways to cope.

Like Dahlia, she befriended the princes and their friends. She became particularly close with both of Odin’s sons, something that never seemed to settle quite right with Thor. He constantly attempted to hoard all of the twins attention so that Loki got none. Valencia was often forced to scold him for his greed. In fact, she spent many nights with both of Asgard’s princes, attempting to help them see eye-to-eye, but like her, she found that Loki internalized far too much to properly open up to many people, even his brother.

When the time came for her to join Asgard’s fleet, she did so happily. While her sister always ranted and raved about becoming a Valkyrie, Valencia wanted nothing more than to roam the stars and reach beyond what already was. 

Together, Valencia and Dahlia made up what came to be known as a dream team. They complemented one another so well that they clicked into place like two puzzle pieces and when they worked together, it seemed like nothing was impossible.