#He doesn’t have an once of self-preservation skills just like the rest of em | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

queen0fm0nsterz · 3 years

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If we can infer the masks that Six acquires once belonged to previous Ladies in their youth then we can figure out their personalities based on the masks meaning/descriptions altogether: The teacup mask girl probably was too curious for her own good, Scarecrow mask girl was terrified and tried to close her eyes from horrors, Fox Mask girl was rather cunning and brave with skill in exploring, Tengu Mask girl may has accepted her fate in the end to fit in with the horrors

(Give this post a look for context!)

OMG YES! I'm so glad we're on the same train of thought, anon! Let's break these girls down and take a look at the rooms where their boxes are found as well and see if we can get a general idea of what the previous Ladies must have been like.

Teapot

Here's the official description of the teapot mask:

"Six is a natural born explorer, but bad things can happen if she peeks a little too far in. By the looks of things, she might be wearing this Upside-down Teapot a little while longer! "

Just like you said, anon, this girl must have been too curious for her own good, venturing into places she wasn't supposed to be in. I like how they drew a parallel between Six and Teapot, mentioning that they're both explorers.

The room where we can find Teapot's box, and in particular the outfit she's wearing, is quite interesting.

The implication here is that she probably used to be a prisoner of some sort. Plus, to reach her box we actually have to mess with the stairs quite a bit and she's literally stuck in a tiny hole between boxes. This is probably symbolic: the other rooms containing the boxes all use some sort of symbolism, so this could rappresent Teapot feeling trapped.

So to sum this one up: Teapot used to be a curious child, exploring around in places where she shouldn't have. Because of the prison motif we can theorize that she might have felt trapped once she took on the role of the Lady, a role she couldn't find her way out from.

Tengu

Tengu is an interesting one, and I can easily tell you she's my favorite out of the four. Let's take a look at the official description for her mask:

"Fear can take many forms and can live in many worlds. Wearing this Japanese Tengu mask won’t keep Six safe from harm, but it will certainly make her fit in! "

The "live in many worlds" line... possible reference to the fact that the children might come from a different dimention rather than the one LN takes place in? I'm probably overthinking this. Still, I definetely think Tengu not only accepted but also embraced her role as the Lady, unlike Teapot. The implication from this is that she did it out of fear and self preservation. You know what they say - if you can't beat 'em, join them. Still, it doesn't seem like it kept her out of harms way.

I think it's also worth mentioning that Tengu masks are used as decorations because they're believed to frighten bad spirits and bring good luck. Mh.

Moving on to Tengu's room, this one is a BRAIN SCRATCHER.

This isn't actually in Tengu's room but the one right before, I just want you guys to keep in mind that the doodles on the wall were indeed done by nomes. Moving on to her actual room, we start off pretty strong.

GIRL IF THAT ISN'T THE THIN MAN COMING OUT FROM THE TV I LITERALLY DON'T KNOW WHAT IS. Look at him, he's even got his hands in display like he does when he's about to break free in LN 2 and when he kidnaps the toddler in the comics!

He seems to be going after a group of children, the nome and his friends? The implication here is that he kidnapped them.

EDIT: OK HAHAHA SOMEONE IN THE COMMENTS MADE ME NOTICE THAT IT MOST LIKELY IS JUST AN AIR BALOON. So I probably just overanalized this (thank you for commenting btw!! I appreciated that a lot!). Still, I think the hand in the room before belongs to the Thin Man, or possibly even the Ferryman. Or even some other monster entirely. So the kids ran away from somewhere using it. I wonder if they where trying to avoid going on the Maw... mhhh. Anyway, their escape failed.

And here we see the ever present, all seeing Eye, and boom! Suddenly the children have been turned into nomes. That particular eye shape reminded me of the security eye we can find on the Maw. But what caught my attention the most is this:

Lo and behold, a tall, feminine figure, who has also been doodled on, implying that she died, right behind Tengu's box. I'd also like to point out that all the candles in the room have either melted or are about to.

This nome seems to have told us his own little adventure he had with his friends before he was captured by one of the previous Thin Men and brought on the Maw? Only to be turned into a nome by Tengu, a.k.a. one of the Ladies.

To wrap our girl up: Tengu, unlike Teapot, had accepted her fate and embraced her new role as the Lady of the Maw to the fullest in order to survive. It's also possible that she used to be familiar with one of the previous Thin Men, seeing how he's most likely taking the children to the Maw. Unfortunately, the Tengu mask did not protect her from the horrors of the world and she met her end.

Fox

Out of all the presumed Ladies, Fox seems to be the one most similar to Six, at least according to her mask's description:

" With so many nooks & crannies to explore in this unpredictable place, it takes someone special to survive. Six is as brave and cunning a character as you will find, so this Fox mask couldn’t have found a better home! "

It's pointed out how it takes someone special to survive in an enviroment like the one the LN Universe has to offer, which is an obvious nodd to Six, but I think it might also be referring to Fox herself. Now, let's take a look at the room before the one Fox's box is found. Look at the drawing on the wall.

A tall woman surrounded by seven children, who match the seven nomes you have to find in order to get access to this room. Following the reasoning we used before, we'll presume the tall woman is Fox, a.k.a one of the Ladies. Note how a part of her head is missing, almost as if it got ripped away.

We get in her actual room and would you look at that.

The seven nomes, chilling quietly in Fox's room. It's very clear that they're all prefectly comfortable with bring here, see as there's one of the nomes just swinging silently on their little swing. The pillow next to Fox's box has been ripped. The implication I get here is that our girl might have gotten a little too brave and... lost her head.

I don't know about you but this feels like a memorial to me, similar to the one other nomes made for their friends a few rooms ahead.

(This one. Also, the box there contains a Shadow Child figure. Definetely talking about this in a separate post.)

To sum Fox up: she was a cunning, brave, special girl, very similar to Six. Even though she most likely took on the role of the Lady, children seemed to trust her enough to be comfortable in her presence. However, something happened to her that led her to meet a very gruesome end. Possibly her successor killing her? Or maybe she was punished for being too kind to the children? Perhaps, a bit of both.

Scarecrow

There's not a lot to say about Scarecrow, if I have to be honest. Here's the official description of her mask:

" The Maw is filled with awful things hiding in the shadows and around every corner. Wear this twisted old Scarecrow Sack - it might not frighten away the monsters, but at least you won’t see them! "

Ok but let me tell you, the Scarecrow mask reminds me a lot of the sack the Hunter wears. You could say the two are similar in a way: the Hunter wears his sack to prevent himself from seeing the TVs, while Scarecrow wears hers to avoid looking at the monsters she had surrounded herself with. She most likely kept to herself most of the time, just like him.

Her room seems to suggest the same thing.

It's small, only illuminated by a small light and hidden away from the rest of the world; away from the horrors. Now, the ripped portrait of the Pretender behind her? No clue what that could mean, but see as the previous room contained a lot of portraits about the Pretender and her life? The two might be connected, or similar in some way.

Perhaps the Pretender is, deep down, just like Scarecrow was? Scared, terrified even, of the monsters around her and that's why she created her own fake little world where she can play with her ""friends"" without a care in the world? Her name IS the Pretender, after all.

Finally, the last summary: Scarecrow is a scared one, even after taking the role of the Lady she prefers to hide away into her own quarters, turning a blind eye to the horrors she (indirectly?) causes so she won't have to face them.

Ahh, this was a lot, but we got all the girls here! I really wanna hear you guys' thoughts on this one.

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thedistantstorm · 5 years

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The Lion’s Heart 11

A shield, she realizes. The Traveler has gifted me a shield. I am a Defender: the last, lonely sentinel.

The tale of a different kind of Guardian: one who does not want the accolade of saving the world, who does not understand why she would be chosen to wield the Light remaining in the Shard. Once a reckless, dazzling Striker, the Traveler’s chosen is reborn a silent Sentinel. This is Kira’s story; About bringing people together, reclaiming their city, and overcoming the darkness despite it all.

Note: this chapter does feature some pretty heavy PTSD and panic-attack related themes. If that sort of thing bothers you, please tread carefully.

Previous Parts: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

The fire is warm against the dampness of the surrounding forest. It licks little flares of yellow-orange against the white, scratched metal of her boots. Fall is waning; Tyra told her earlier that she thinks it will snow tonight.

Everyone who comes through this part of the Farm is wrapped in furs or blankets, trying to stave off the bitter chill.

Kira isn't cold though, sitting on the far left side of a bench. Partly because of the fire, sure. But partially because of the woman beside her, tucked under her arm, slouching against her chest.

She'd been there, in the barn that doubled as their command center when the word came in. Watched Hawthorne take the news - news that had Zavala stop what he was doing, dispatch the team he was working with in short order. Hawthorne did not stutter or shake, her back ramrod straight, immediately asked for the names of any family left behind by the men they'd lost in the fray. After, she turned back to what she was doing as if the affair hadn't happened at all.

An entire team. Ten men. Her best. They'd stood no chance against the Elite Centurion, Thumos ‘the Unbroken.’

Hawthorne had personally selected them. Had been the one to order them to gather information on Ghaul's chosen. To take him down, if they could. One less thing for their Guardian friend to do.

Kira had been a Guardian under Zavala's tutelage long enough to know the feeling that eclipses a room at the knowledge someone's sent another to their death. But Zavala, though hard he takes his losses, is experienced in the bitterness of the art. He coughed.

Cinnamon met cerulean. His eyes had flicked pointedly to the door.

She nodded in reply, letting herself out. Hawthorne's first, rebellious sob just barely reached her ears as she closed it behind her.

Now, sitting in the dark, no one will ever know if she’d been crying - Zavala would never confirm it, and Hawthorne will never tell. Her eyes bore dark and heavy into the fire, looking for answers that would never come.

On the other side of them both, Zavala sits pensively, eyes watching the perimeter, silent and strong. It should be peaceful, this moment, Kira thinks. But it's not.

She's angry. Angry that the Cabal continue to kill and maim. Angry that people like Hawthorne - people who aren't soldiers, who answered the call to protect their protectors when they needed to be saved - are forced to make these decisions, to have the lives of others burdened upon their shoulders.

“Zavala.”

Hawthorne does not flinch at the sound of Kira’s voice, spoken almost directly into her ear. It's strong, though it burns her throat to speak. Blue eyes blink her way, looking over the ridge of Hawthorne's hood. To Kira, he’s always been ‘The Commander’ or 'sir.’ This is serious, she's saying without as many words. Their eyes meet.

“I'm going to kill him,” Kira says. “Thumos.”

Zavala holds her gaze for a long moment. Finally, he nods. “Good.”

His eyes return to scanning the darkness of the treeline. Kira feels the muscles of the arm - Hawthorne's - under her fingertips pull taut. The fire pops, and Kira sees where pale blue and brown skin meet. He’s holding her hand, Kira realizes. She watches his fingers twitch in an answering squeeze.

Maybe some good will come of this war, she dares to think.

Much later, when Kira's startled awake by sounds across the fire, she sees that Cayde and Ikora have joined them. Hawthorne no longer leans against her. Her hands are folded plainly in her lap, and her dark brown eyes are on the flames.

“Amanda says she’s got whatever air support we need,” Cayde is saying, on a perpendicular bench to Zavala's left. “Managed to tune up quite a few sparrows, too.”

“She’s done excellent work,” Zavala answers. “We’ll need them if a direct assault on the City is ever going to work.”

“I still think a direct assault on the City is bound to fail. Lightless Guardians are skilled, Zavala, but not used to fighting so carefully,” Ikora counters. She makes no comment on the survivors or Hawthorne’s scouts, who make up a large contingent of the forces. She discredits them, Kira realizes.

“Well, bet our Guardian could probably do a number on 'em,” Cayde supplies helpfully. “Then we clean up what's left.”

That leaves Suraya scoffing into the fire.

“I don't remember asking for your opinion,” Comes the voice of the Warlock Vanguard, wary of the outsider. Kira bristles, but Hawthorne does not rise to the bait.

Silence falls over them.

“Guess not,” Hawthorne agrees, after a time. Kira knows the tone of that voice - it's the same one that she'd used when Zavala's broadcast had them dropping everything to go to Titan. The other woman's feelings are hurt, not that she'd ever admit it. “Excuse me.”

Zavala follows her with his eyes as she walks away. Kira's fingers ball into fists.

“She is good counsel,” The Commander states, levelly, when Hawthorne is well out of earshot. Diplomatic, always. “An ally we need.”

“A means to an end. We are grateful for her services in our time of despair, but… We're here now. Together, Zavala." Ikora's golden eyes still have that same half desperate, half self-preserving sheen to them Kira had seen on Io. "She is not what we need.” Her words echo tauntingly in the young Titan's mind.

Kira rises to her feet before she truly thinks about it, her voice shaking, tight fists making her gloves grit together meanly. There’s a buzzing in her brain. “And what do you know about what we need?”

Ikora leans back and regards her coolly.

“Kira,” Zavala warns, like a disappointed parent.

The Warlock waves him off. Smiles even, saccharine. “If there's something you have to say, Guardian, by all means…”

Cayde crosses his arms, slouching against the back of the bench. Kira fights back some of her fury. “You're discrediting her and the rest of the non-Guardians. You haven't been here, so don't pretend to know.”

Her Ghost flickers into the space over her shoulder, watching her irises dart back and forth wildly.

“So now you find your voice,” Cayde drawls, tone breezy, but his optics hard. “Couldn't even say a word to me when ya found me on Nessus. I'm hurt. I get you're pissed and all, kid, but the Vanguard is more than capable of handling things.”

“Cayde, enough.” Ikora's steady gaze turns to the outspoken woman. “I know we have to take back the Traveler, Kira. The Cabal could wipe out our Sun. They could kill us all. Civilians will only-”

The Titan shakes her head, furious, interrupting, “These people have been fighting for their lives since the Cabal attack, not skulking around Io bitching about their Fireteam leader.”

“Kira!” Zavala barks, nearly a yell. “Stop this at once!”

It's too late. The damage is done. Ikora all but bellows, “How dare you! I was searching for answers, trying to find a way to save us!”

Kira snarls back, unyielding,“‘What good is a resistance when you are the only one who would survive?’”

Zavala blinks, looking from one woman to the other. “What?”

Ikora remains silent.

Kira's eyes are ablaze with barely restrained fury. “Tell him,” She growls at the Warlock mentor. Ikora still doesn’t speak, so Kira explains, “That’s what you said to me when we told you about the resistance.”

A glance in Zavala’s direction reveals his expression to be carefully constructed, both stoic and blank. “I didn't mean it that way,” Ikora refutes, but she’s saying it to her Fireteam leader, not to the young Titan beside him.

“Yes,” She presses, “You did. You weren't looking for a way to save any of us. You were praying to whatever was left of the Traveler's influence on Io to try and save you.”

There is a dangerous quake to the other woman's voice as her gold eyes sweep back to the Traveler’s chosen. “Do not put words in my mouth, Guardian. The Cabal will not stop with Earth. They will take everything. I want to stop Ghaul just as badly as you do.”

“Then go up to the Almighty and get him,” Kira challenges. Her nostrils flare and her chest heaves. Her eyes flash from Cayde, to Ikora, and even Zavala, who regards her warily. Her stance is firm, though there is only white noise and seething static in her brain, and the anger she's bottled up is thrashing about inside her like a bull in a china shop, demanding a way out. The Titan cannot help it, cannot deny the truth. She's furious with them. They - she, the common folk, the Guardians left behind - needed the Vanguard and the Vanguard wasn't there for them. “All of you.”

Ikora fidgets, prickly and uncomfortable. Zavala initially blinks in surprise at her vehement words. Clearly he had not expected to draw her ire as well. Then, as if accepting his fate, he leans forward, steeples his fingers to frame his lips, and rests his elbows on his knees as he thinks.

“Let’s not be hasty, kid,” Cayde calls out. His nonchalance suggests she’s asked them to take a casual stroll, not take a trip up to see the warmonger responsible for their imminent mortality and displacement. His words, however, contradict his tone. “There’s no way we’d stand a chance mano-a-mano with him doing… whatever he’s doing with our Light.”

“If it comes to it,” Zavala interjects, “We will.”

“You mean, after he kills me first.” His head whips over to her, incredulously. Her increasingly raspy voice is heavy in her anger. “What? It’s the truth. Light or not, I don’t fancy living through a second shove off the Almighty.”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it,” Cayde concludes. “You don’t want to go up there.”

“I'm not kidding,” Kira answers tersely. “When they caged the Traveler,” She offers a twisted smile, like the concept itself is something hysterical, “I had just made it out. Dismantled the shields on the Almighty, like I was told to do. I was…” Her eyes unfocus and then focus again on something not there, a fragment of a memory, “Standing,” She muses softer, “Right in front of him.” Her lips purse so they don’t tremble and her ears ring with white noise. “‘You’re not brave,’ he said. ‘You’ve merely forgotten the fear of death. Ah-allow me-’”

Ghost flutters helplessly next to her. “Kira,” He whispers, drawing her focus. “You don’t have to - You don’t owe them this,” He says, finally.

And maybe she doesn’t, she thinks distantly. But the moment she started speaking, the moment she started saying this, she lost the power to stop. The words have been bubbling up for a while now, and now that she’s started, they have to be let out. They have to.

“I realized there was no way Amanda was coming back for me,” She redirects, not looking at her audience. They're hanging on every increasingly alarming word. “He kicked us to the edge of the flight deck and I… I tried to save him,” She looks at her Ghost, “But I couldn’t reach him before he went over the edge-” Her eyes close and her voice wavers, hoarse from her outburst and from staving off tears. “I figured he’d kill me off up there, show me his might and call it a day,” She stares down Ikora, then Cayde, who looks down and away. “He made a big show of it, told me his name,” Zavala’s eyes are drilling holes into her, seeing through the cinnamon flecks of her irises, she swears it. “‘I am Ghaul,’ he said. ‘And your Light is mine.’ Then he… put his boot to my head and kicked me off the edge.” Her eyes widen ever so slightly. “I… remember the fall. And the impact.” From the corner of her eye, she notices Zavala’s eyes finally leave her face, reasonably ashamed. Her voice catches. “And seeing all of the people we couldn’t save. Things that-”

He reaches out a hand to grab her wrist. She jerks away. “Don’t,” She says, angered this time by his coddling. “Don’t touch me.”

“Sit down, then,” He tries instead. His voice is low, as if he’s speaking to a wounded animal. “You’re shaking.”

“Yes,” She agrees, viciously yelling, “Because while the three of you-” Her sharp inhale is a bit like a gasp, as if she’s woke up from a dream only to find out that the dream itself is real; That she’s been sleep walking. Panic rushes over her as if she’s been doused with a bucket of icy water. She should have just followed after Hawthorne, she thinks frantically. She never should have said this, she berates herself internally, she never should have-

“Finish it,” Ikora snarls, and if the tone of her voice could kill, Kira's sure she'd be dead already.

“While the three of you-” Her eyelids flutter and Zavala slides down the bench just a little, clearly concerned that she’s going to keel over, pass out, “Were out there on your own, doing… whatever you thought was best, people were dying here.”

“I know that, Kira,” Zavala offers, carefully. “They do, too.”

She shakes her head, disagreeing, despite Zavala’s very steady gaze boring into her eyes, all but telling her ‘not now, not here,’ willing her to calm down, to stay quiet. Her voice is too gravelly, too raw to continue ranting, and her shaking is a constant, uncomfortable feeling that rattles outward from her chest.

She can’t do this, she tells herself. She can’t look at them. Hawthorne had explained it to her as anxiety, when she’d noticed Kira’s behavior, nearly a month ago. Panic. It bubbles up in the cracks of her soul and tries to suffocate her. At the thought, she looks to her Ghost. Get me out of here, she thinks to him.

He tips his shell sideways slightly as he regards her, then bobs. “C’mon,” He hums easily. “I think it’s about time we go.”

“I’ll say. I think it’s past the little lion’s bedtime,” Cayde jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

Her Ghost rounds on him fast enough to make Sundance spark into existence between her Guardian and the Titan’s provoked Ghost. Kira’s shoulders round for only a breath, long enough for the rest to see. “Leave it,” She says, softly, coughing at the rough tickle of her throat. It's only part of the price she'll pay for saying too much. She sags after a few more harsh breaths, more mentally exhausted than she's ever felt.

They turn from the campfire, and she hears the sound of metal armor moving from the bench. She shakes her head, not quite looking back over her shoulder. Her chest feels like it's shaking, pinpricks of anger and fear and feelings she can't truly process or comprehend. “Please,” She begs of him, feeling the tears well up. She knows he's disappointed, but she can't take anymore. It hurts and she's so angry. He falls still. “Don't follow me.”

"Kira-"

"Please."

#Destiny Fanfiction #Oc: Kira #Commander Zavala #Suraya Hawthorne #cayde-6 #Ikora Rey #collection: the lion's heart #the red war #destiny stories #destiny 2 #the cabal #dominus ghaul

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