#trevain

[rowanashings]

At any point, Lidija Ashtad could stop looking for her wife. She will be possessed in this search and be killed by her new family and friends that she made in her party. She will never stop looking for her wife

the first law of tragedies: the end is already written and inevitable. the second law of tragedies: your actions are all your own and you can choose to get off this ride whenever you want. the third law of tragedies: we both know that you are never going to do that.

[random-racehorses]

Random Real Thoroughbred: TREVAIN

TREVAIN is a chesnut gelding born in Australia in 2000. By DESERT SUN out of VAIN DISPLAY. Link to their pedigreequery page: https://www.pedigreequery.com/trevain

[jessicafangirl]

Building A Mystery Chapter 3

I bring a gift. It's shorter than my norm but I have a 3rd chapter of Vampire Volkarin for you all. And oooh is there some angsty torment? Fuck yes you better believe it. And this is just the beginning.

You can read it at AO3 here

Neve Gallus had trouble sleeping.

Not as much as Lucanis of course, but his was usually self-enforced with the help of an unholy amount of coffee. Neve’s lack of sleep was her brain couldn’t shut off when it had a mystery it needed to solve. And right then her entire life had turned into a maze of them. So it was that evening after Davrin had told everyone to get some sleep she found herself failing to do so.

There was no night at the Lighthouse. It was always brightly lit and that wasn’t helpful in trying to slumber either. So instead Neve had gone back to reading missives from some of her informants who she’d reached out to regarding the mage they’d fought months ago. The battle that had led to Emmrich leaving and Rook being injured. It never added up for Neve that the mage was working alone. Someone or something had given him the push to try what he failed to do.

The reason she suspected some puppet master was the mages history. Trevaine Gaston was a mediocre mage who had for years been a low-level, black-market dealer in short-term potions for various things. Many of them didn’t have great side effects, but the desperate would try anything. Suddenly, he’s bringing back hordes of the undead using powerful blood magic and necromancy that he’d never used before? It made no sense….and it smacked of something brewing that would be worse than her preferred coffee.

Frustrated, she couldn’t piece it together yet; she’d headed outside of her room off the side of the Lighthouse’s plaza and lit a cigarette. The smoke filled her lungs and she exhaled it in a plume letting the mix of tobacco do its work. It was only a few minutes before she saw Lucanis moving quickly across the paved stones. He seemed in a hurry and…oh Maker he was drawing his sword from it’s sheath. Neve then noticed a haze of purple surrounding him.

So not Lucanis…Spite was heading somewhere very quickly with a sword.

A brilliant string of Tevinter cursing that would have made many of the sailors that frequented there blush came from her lips along with her last exhale of smoke.

Spite’s grip was strong as the demon held Emmrich against the wall. The Necromancer was impressed as well but was also annoyed and did not want this to be the image anyone else was met with upon seeing his return. Pulling from the bag of tricks he had as a Necromancer, Emmrich cast a protection spell that was made to repel tainted undead. His hope was it would have enough anti-demonic force to get the possessed man off him without hurting him too badly. Lucanis was still a friend of course.

The flash of green magic was bright and brutal. Spite let out a cry of pain and was pushed back from the force, dropping his sword and landing on the floor with a thud. Emmrich kicked the sword away. “What I am Spite is not to be trifled with.” Emmrich replied, straightening his cravat and settling his glamor back into place.

At that moment Neve appeared followed by Davrin whom she’d stopped to grab in case she needed extra muscle. The two nearly stumbled through the entrance to the hall, both stopping dead in their tracks as they came upon the scene in front of them.

Lucanis was lying on the floor, holding his head. Standing above him dressed all in black was the long missing Necromancer.

“Emmrich?” Davrin asked, his voice shocked.

Neve narrowed her eyes at the tableau. “What happened? Did, did Spite attack you?” She asked.

Emmrich sighed heavily, realizing this was not going to be the most ideal way of returning home. It was at that moment Manfred, apparently hearing the commotion came out of the doorway. “Sssurpise!!!” He hissed happily.

Davrin was making sure Spite, or more actually Lucanis, wasn’t in too bad a way as Neve stepped over to Emmrich. “Makers breath Emmrich, what happened here? Why did he attack you?” she asked him. “And besides that where the fuck have you been?” She added bluntly.

The Necromancer wasn’t quite able to meet her eyes at the moment, sighing heavily he moved from the wall, rubbing at his neck where the possessed man had been gripping him. “We don’t have to resort to that level of language, do we?” He asked her with a raised brow. “And for the first question I don’t know what got into him…other than the demon of course.”

That wasn’t quite a full truth…Emmrich hadn’t counted on the demon realizing that something had very much changed in him, and he’d not counted on him sensing it the moment he’d walked through the Eluvian. He’d only been prepared for Neve’s safeguards and the ones he himself had added that were attuned to the Fade around them. Spite was a wildcard it would appear, and he needed to figure out what he was going to do about that.

Davrin glanced over at the Necromancer, his dark eyes not kind. “Well I can hazard a guess on why he jumped you.” The Warden said. Emmrich looked at him with raised brows, wondering if something had slipped on his glamor.

The younger man’s lips thinned. “You left Rook for months. She wasn’t handling it very well, Emmrich. Lucanis watched like the rest of us while she spiraled, I can only assume Spite was watching too. And my guess is neither one of them are very happy with you.”

Each word was a well-placed shot to his heart. Emmrich looked to the floor, not able to meet their eyes.

Spite picked that moment to stir, purple glowing through half lidded eyes. “Magic…lucky…hit.” The demons voice reverberated weakly. Davrin put an arm around his shoulders, helping him to sit up. Emmrich looked nervously at the now present demon.

Spite was still reeling from the blast of magic the death mage had hit him with but he wasn’t going to stay quiet. “You…” He started, glowing eyes glaring at Emmrich, voice guttural. “You hurt Rook. You…don’t belong here…Death Magic.”

The accusation was both stinging and troubling to Emmrich. He wanted to reveal what he’d done in his own time in his own way. Spite was putting that at risk and this guard dog mentality was just as troubling to the Necromancer. Mystery was his, not this base demons to protect. His jaw tightened as he kept his responses to himself, green eyes darkening as the glamor reacted to the emotions running through him.

Davrin could tell this was going to be a fun time for everyone. “Spite, we need to stand you up okay…just work with me alright?” The Warden stood, helping the still recovering demon to do the same.

“Emmrich…you’ve got some explaining to do.” Neve said. Emmrich’s gaze glanced over at her. “Have you…have you talked to Rook?”

He sighed, his gloved fingers flexing. “Seen her yes, talked to her…no.” He met Neve’s brown eyes hesitantly. “She was asleep when I arrived. I saw her wounds…I…healed some of them while she slumbered but let her rest. I could tell she needed it.”

The detective placed a hand on her hip in a gesture Emmrich knew meant she had some words for him, and they wouldn’t be kind. “You have no idea what she’s been through since you left, what she’s been like. I don’t think she cared if she lived or died Emmrich. I’ve never seen her so reckless. And she refused healing most of the time. Almost like she thought she deserved the pain, wanted it.”

Emmrich’s heart felt as if it were breaking as he heard what his beloved had done. Maybe it was. It was though it were made of glass, shattering beneath his rib cage, splintering in his soul. His lips parted in shock and horror. “I…I didn’t think she would…”

Davrin scoffed as he checked over Spite for any injuries. “You didn’t think. That seems exactly right.”

Emmrich glanced over at Davrin for a moment in surprise. The Grey Warden was typically on his side in most things but…he knew he was right. He didn’t think it would go this far. His focus had been on his goal and returning with the ability to keep her truly safe and beside him forever.

It was at that moment that Spite’s head shook, the purple fading away, and there Lucanis stood. His dark eyes were confused for a moment, seeing Davrin standing before him and then it seemed realization took hold as Emmrich heard Spite’s bodyless voice hiss “Corpse man…is here.”

Lucanis turned then, as though completely aware in only a second. His black brows narrowed, centering on Emmrich and his face changed to a mask of rage. No one had a moment to realize what was about to happen until it had already occurred. Lucanis pulled himself from Davrin’s arm and swung his fist squarely at Emmrich, connecting with a cracking sound to his jaw.

The Necromancer’s head jerked to the side from the blow as Davrin and Neve each grabbed one of the Crow’s arms, holding him back from further violence. “Bastardo…you left her! You don’t deserve her! How dare you come back!” Lucanis snarled at him, nearly breaking free of his two friends’ hold.

Emmrich kept his face turned away knowing the glamor could only do so much. His eyes burned red and the desire to turn and rip the throat out of the assassin after he attacked him was just being held in check. He licked the thin line of blood that fell from his cut lip, the wound healing after a few seconds.

He heard it then, in Lucanis’s words, actions and voice. The assassin wanted more than friendship with Rook. What the Crow felt was beyond that. Emmrich realized he had stayed away too long. A deep burning within him started to flame, white hot and consuming. How dare this upstart think to take away his beloved, his Mystery? She was his and he was hers and this aberration was not going to change that. This Antivan Crow leach would learn what it was to try and take from him. To dare come between them.

Emmrich let out a strangled gasp, taking a stealing breath of air to try and focus, fighting down the rage and jealousy that was bubbling up through every fiber of him. He needed to control this…he couldn’t let this take over, not now. He was not a brutal animal. He was more than his desire and instinct. He was a man, and he would remain so. He’d been told that this was something that could happen with the change at first. Emotions would be extreme…especially when love was involved. His guide on this journey knew that first hand…and Emmrich’s story of love for the one he wanted to protect was the only reason they had agreed to his request.

The Necromancer stood, ensuring the glamor was in place. He straightened his back and touched his still tender jaw. For it to still be smarting, Lucanis truly did have a mean right hook. He met the Crow’s nearly black eyes. “For what it’s worth,” Emmrich said, his voice steady and holding more than a hint of sadness, “I agree with part of what you said.”

Lucanis seemed to calm down at last, the rage most likely also being fed by Spite who also wasn’t a fan of Emmrich right then. Davrin and Neve still held onto him though, Neve wishing she’d grabbed Taash on her way over too. “It’s all true Emmrich…you know it.” Lucanis turned to Neve. “I’m okay…I won’t hit him again though he deserves it.”

Neve raised a doubtful brow but nodded to Davrin and they both released him. Lucanis flexed the fingers of his right hand which he felt was going to bruise. He knew Emmrich had a strong jaw but that seemed like solid rock he’d just decked.

Just then the sound of Manfred’s hiss of “Sssurprise!” followed by a startled gasp caused them all to turn to the doorway of Emmrich’s rooms.

Standing there in what Emmrich recognized as one of his dressing gowns was Rook. The red velvet robe hung loose around her arms and was dragging behind her like a short train. Her blue eyes were wide, glossy, and her face drained of color.

The Necromancer felt the world focus in on her, everything else fell away. He took in the mix of shock, sadness, and disbelief as she looked at him. The fact she was wrapped in his clothes…the tremors of her fingers as they grasped the fabric like a lifeline. And finally the tear that fell from her left eye onto her cheek.

“Emmrich…?” Her voice cracked as she spoke his name and Emmrich felt what remained of his heart breaking just the same way.

[luvrsagony]

augh. anna trevain my beloved (she does NOT have a stupid pun name)

[rowanashings]

Tragic lovers who lose each other. ALCHEMY

sometimes a theme recurs in your work without your permission. and sometimes it reaches a threshold where you're like. well now i think this is saying something about me against my will. don't know what though

[art-zoratrix]

Lokar'vyn Trevain, for @chadslavowski-blog

[thepageunbound]

The past Jodee Trevaine tried to bury is about to be unearthed in El Hueso. A missing child, an old love, and a town full of secrets—will she find the strength to face it all? #TexasAuthor #LoneStarLit #LoneStarLitBeneathTheBrokenOak @lonestarlit @lorialtebaumerwrites

[rowanashings]

Lidija Ashtad

Interesting genre of image

[speedocs]

some shuck bros. doodles to try to get back into drawing humans \o/

[autochthonousone]

Under The Starlight So Bright

“Just a bit higher, my lord…”

An elezen man in working clothes teetered precariously atop a ladder as he helped guide the latest addition to the manor gardens into place. Below him, hefting the majority of the arbor’s weight, was one Barengar Requingris. The process of getting the manor fully decorated for Starlight was never truly done -- not with him and Eliane at the helm in any event. There was always just a little more cheer that one could fit in.

Barengar only grunted as he continued to push the tree up … and up … and up.

“There!” the elezen exclaimed.

With one last heft Barengar was able to settle the tree in all its glory into its waiting stand. The highlander slowly backed up to admire the anchored arbor. It was the last of but many such trees that he and the groundskeeper had set up over the course of the day -- and a sight that brought warmth to the new lord’s heart.

“Now all they need is a bi-t o-f decoration,” Barengar commented.

“Mmm. Indeed.”

“Bu-t tha-t can wait.”

Barengar’s attention drifted to the sky. It’d gone dark while they were working, though to describe it as such was — perhaps — unfair. The heavens hung alight with shimmering stars, masked only by the mountains in the distance and the curve of the horizon. The sea of scintillating motes mirrored the holiday lights in the Ishgardian streets -- something that brought a smile to the highlander’s lips without fail.

How integral they had become to his life.

“I shall see you upon the morrow, my lord.” The groundskeeper offered a polite smile but a furrowed brow. “… Though it would also seem you have a visitor.”

Barengar tilted his head slightly. What?

“Lord Juleaux.” The groundskeeper bowed and excused himself.

“Gastain,” Juleaux called back with a lazy wave and crooked smile. Though there was a certain … frenetic energy around the man.

The groundskeeper knew well enough that this wasn’t really any of his business. Judging by that look upon Juleaux’s face, though, he had a certain suspicion of what this was about. He vanished from the gardens in short order.

Barengar slowly turned to level his confusion upon his brother-in-law. Jules’ posture suggested he needed Barengar’s signature (or something equally rote), but the uncharacteristic light in the man’s mint-green eyes suggested something far more was afoot.

“It’s time, dear brother,” came his mischievous drawl.

“Time…?” Barengar repeated blankly, blinking once. “Time f-or w…”

The answer hit like lightning, and with that the Ala Mhigan charged full-bore for the manor with Juleaux laughing in his wake. There were no words, no way to articulate what he felt in that moment.

Elation. Anticipation. Excitement. Anxiety. Impatience.

All he knew was that he had to be at her side.

And with that, Juleaux hitched a shoulder, cocked a grin, and sauntered after his eager in-law. Barengar wasn’t the only one excited, after all -- for tonight was the night that Juleaux embarked on his journey as a terrible influence upon young minds.

Tonight was the night that Father retired House Dufresne, and the night that House Requingris was born in earnest.

==============================================================

Let it be known that on this day, the 21st Sun of the Sixth Umbral Moon, a set of triplets were born to Lady Eliane and Lord Barengar of House Requingris of Ishgard. The half-elezen children, Trevain, Celeste, and Varden, are all of strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes, and are in good (and incredibly noisy) health. The Lord and Lady will be taking the remainder of the holiday season to recover and to spend time with their new family, leaving Juleaux Dufresne to tend to the Bellworks and Olivie Dufresne to tend to Parliament in Eliane’s absence. Come the new year, Emmereaux and Olivie Dufresne will pass on the title of Baron and Baroness to the new mother and father, as the family as a whole embarks on a new and renewing chapter in their lives!

[dubiousduskwight]

The Diary of Marjorie Trevain

[A small, sleek-looking book that has the appearance of being leatherbound. Expert bibliophiles would note that the appearance of leather is just that, being instead a form of treated and stamped muslin binding. The cover bears the title Blessings of Peace in large, gilded script. The interior includes many good sayings of an inspirational and moral nature for the benefit and tutelage of young ladies of learning, along with the occasional poem of deep sentiment from Ishgard’s past. The most recent entry follows.]

Today’s Saying:  To stand for Those Less Fortunate is to bear Halone’s Own Shield. To care for Those Less Fortunate is to bear Halone’s Own Arms.

I do know that they mean to care for the poor, but I should think Ally is very much a Less Fortunate, if not a Those! He has been in such a wretched state ever since last night when the notice arrived. His hand is not to be given to The Good Lady Fae’s in the blessing of the bond, and after he has so looked forward to it all his life! He shut himself up in his room and when that was not enough to shut himself up he found himself sprawled along the fainting couch in the reading room, making the most forlorn sounds! He has not wept, not that I have seen, and I do wish that he would, for a good cry would do him wonders I believe.

[An image to the side of this paragraph includes a sketched picture of low quality involving a tall, boyishly handsome Elezen gazing adoringly at an indistinct girl marked only by deep red hair and green eyes. It has been crossed out.]

All is not so lost for him, though, because today we had a visitor from The Good Lady Fae’s family! It was her aunt, I believe. I did not peep as I did with that wonderful miqouthte [this follows after several attempts to spell “miqo’te” are scratched out] but I did catch a glimpse, and Mr. Gerald told me while he was making tea that she was a member of the Severidennes. So beautiful! Skin as white as snow and perfect black hair, wonderfully bobbed and curled. I wished that I could tell her so but she seemed so cold, and she was really here to talk to none but Ally. He has told me that there is a chill about The Good Lady’s grandmother as well. Can a family be aspected in an element, like ice or lightning? I shall ask Mr. Carrevoix at my lessons.

[A sketch in somewhat crude portraiture to the bottom left of the page indicates a drawing of the woman in question, hastily done. Stylized snowflakes decorate the margins of the image.]

When they finished their talk he seemed to be in much better spirits, so of course I had to tease him about his new lady love. It was the saddest smile he gave in return! He said that The Good Lady had sent her aunt to say that she wished to offer her condolences, and while she was most busy preparing for the engagement ball, she did still wish to remain Ally’s dearest friend. He said he was comforted, he did, he DID, but I saw that smile when Father joined the heavens. He told me that there were people who might see the Good Lady’s happiness undone, and it would be up to him and other folks to make sure that did not come to pass.

[A quick sketch of a chapel for the Eternal Bond, of the sort the lower classes might use in the Brume, and several caricatured knights with swords standing out front.]

Well I shall not stand for it. He will weep himself away for love of The Good Lady Fae if I let him - never have I ever heard him call her a friend, not once - and it is up to me to bear Halone’s shield and guard him from his heartbreak and shield his smile. I believe I shall have what Mr. Gerald calls a “well-schemed mischief,” and the sooner the better!

[A sketch at the bottom of the final page of the entry, taking up its lower half, of a dark-grey skinned, white haired Miqo’te woman, surrounded by musical notes.]  

[rowanashings]

Lidija when Loukas tells her the owlbears had glowing blue eyes

[jerkbendingatisfinest]

Alright my humans! Let's talk about The Cabinet of Curiosities by Stefan Bachmann, Katherine Catmull, Claire Legrand, and Emma Trevaine. This is one of my FAVORITE books. It's 36 tales of luck, stairs, ghosts, and even love. The horror kind, that is. Anyway go read it. Right now

[444names]

cornish names

Ahenna Ahern Ailgan Aillan Aills Alacka Angan Anger Angerman Angrok Angroway Annat Artho Atharne Barnise Bartho Belza Benive Berearne Berroc Berrock Blamban Blaskise Blewan Blian Blick Bling Blioneth Boamso Boathan Bolda Browent Bryan Burtha Cadar Cadrays Caduena Cadwen Caligh Carth Caske Caswan Caule Caulern Caulese Causcor Ceenafory Chenna Cheston Cheverry Chevise Cleja Clemetan Clensa Clian Clione Colcott Colda Coleas Colek Coley Conkish Corley Couse Cousey Credan Cunda Cundrok Curle Curlewano Curne Darton Darvosek Davil Deark DeLal DeLan DeLawells Delleja Demaitt Deres Dewenna Digha Digovean Dobelena Dober Donah Drenow Dywan Dywargon Dywas Dywast Eleago Eleargyen Elembella Ellan Ellick Ellitton Ellyne Elorth Enorne Esene Feoth Feott Fidory Gearthen Gerethick Gerley Gerthake Glena Gonine Gorgh Gorgyesil Gorne Gorowel Gorrefe Gorwannan Groca Grous Growenwyn Gworock Gwyna Gwyne Gwynwey Halen Harnenne Hawenrous Hawry Heban Hebar Hedensa Hedianch Hedicek Hedick Heleat Helyn Hennafory Hensa Howen Hydrayen Hydry Isber Iundena Iunder Iundrepel Iundrevar Jaccarthy Jagon Jamento Jengemana Jewennam Jolimo Joweebark Keartin Keigh Keigo Keigonan Keigor Keigway Kelza Kemey Kenah Kench Kenin Kenkinga Kenna Kenwin Kenwith Kerevian Keveth Kevilga Kewyn Kewynwin Kittory Laitt Lalwyn Lanch Laways Legarth Leggil Lithain Loamene Loarth Loartory Locek Lovene Lowanan Lowayen Lowenalk Mabanch Madueng Marth Mayney Meleaker Meleng Mellase Mellente Mellynt Menna Metan Methow Metto Morock Moryman Muddick Muddy Munderin Mundry Munson Munwyn Nafor Neger Negerever Negoney Newen Neweth Newlyack Odgele Odgen Odger Olven Palke Palwyn Paskan Paskin Pawalwyn Pawny Pedwen Penal Penat Pendery Pendy Penepa Pengarth Penha Penna Penows Pensonick Penter Pento Penven Perno Perris Perymash Polametho Polean Pomaitt Pomana Poogen Poove Prinice Prissa Prock Ravilimo Ravill Renvel Restin Restrossa Retheer Rethes Roddell Roddy Rosek Rosenver Rouch Rusisa Rusle Sarna Sevellow Sevias Sevory Sowello Sprena Spresto Spryfe Stecca Sterra Sterroc Surto Talegele Taleneas Talle Tallen Tamso Tease Teccary Tegill Terwan Terymaith Tippa Tippethen Tomase Tonkis Travian Treago Treagows Treagwa Treagwana Trean Treban Trebath Trebo Trecca Treccas Trecock Tredan Tredel Treder Treders Tredin Tredwurne Treers Trefenwyn Trefeth Trefuse Tregas Tregaske Tregaskis Trege Tregeal Tregeavin Tregen Treger Tregerray Treggo Treggowse Tregidgas Treglow Tregnnan Tregnney Trego Tregon Treha Trehalle Trehan Trehego Trehen Trehender Trele Trelen Trell Trella Trellick Trelligh Trello Trelyn Trelyon Trelza Tremay Tremayn Tremban Tremel Tremen Tremes Tremesan Tremether Tremo Tremp Trena Trender Trene Trengs Trenna Trenne Trenroca Trenton Trentrewa Trepry Treres Trerney Tresa Trescock Trescory Trese Tresil Tresisan Tress Tresseke Trestan Trestin Tretang Treth Tretha Tretheago Trethene Trethenna Trethevil Trett Trevain Trevaith Trevan Trevar Trevarne Trevasso Trevedick Trevedray Trevel Trevele Trevellin Treven Trevetha Trevett Trevian Trevil Trevilan Trevill Trevills Trevis Trewalwyn Trewan Treway Trewe Trewen Trewens Trewenve Trewethel Trewyner Trezza Trisan Truse Trusidden Trusle Truslen Tyana Urenat Ureveth Veppara Vepperman Vepry Veprylue Vepuse Verryana Vervorick Vosennin Voskis Vyvyana Waragwin Waravisa Wenack Wenowdel Wenowsek Wherreld Yescoe Yesiddick

[stele3]

Bisclavret is now available on Amazon for Kindle and other devices! Or, well, it'll be available shortly, once Amazon approves it. Really, though, this is just an excuse to post that book cover. I'm so freaking proud of that book cover. I have the design skills of an inebriated snail, but dammit I am persistent and persistence pays off except for when it doesn't.

Fortunately I feel like it did pay off this time. FYI, that's obviously Ewan Trevaine staring pensively at my name on the cover, wondering why it's his naked torso selling this book. To which I reply: a) he spends the most time naked in the story, and truth in advertising is always important; and b) there aren't very many stock photos of sexy naked non-white dudes. :( Hopefully that'll change between now and the second book, so Raheem can have his time in the spotlight.

Speaking of the second book! Patrons get a snippet, soon to be posted. Thanks, Patrons!