#man i really went off in these tags | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

princekirijo · 10 months

Note

thinking about your post on gushing over persona designs and also a reply youve left on one of my posts before... >:3c would you wanna talk about your thoughts on 3rd tier p5 personas because id love to hear em

I WOULD ABSOLUTELY LOVE TO SHARE MY THOUGHTS THANK YOU LEAF >:3c

OK so like disclaimer: I have yet to get to the third semester in Royal myself (I am playing through the game at a snail's pace 😭) so this is more like my thoughts based on a) just the designs in general, b) the designs in the context of the characters and c) what context I do have of the third semester (I know most of it but obvs it will be different once I actually play it). Oh and of course these are all my personal opinions so that's just something to keep in my mind!

For a more general overview of the personas, I actually think the design principle behind these personas slaps so hard. The way that each of them are in a sense, the real, true version of the original character of the initial designs is actually amazing and such a perfect final form for the thieves (considering their whole thing is ripping off their masks they wear in society blah blah blah). And also each of them try to incorporate a part of the character into the persona design (I'll explain that a bit in a minute) is really really cool. However, as with anything there are designs that nail these ideas and then there are some that for me miss it. Overall though, I think they are a solid set of personas and in general I would say I like them as a collective (not as much as the initial and they slightly lose out to the second tier designs but not by much).

Now for a more detailed persona by persona breakdown:

Raoul: Oh boy. Raoul. OK this is tricky for me. As like a design I think he slaps so hard. He looks sleek, cool and I love his head and wing design, I think they continue on from Arsene's monster gentleman look well and bring a more modern vibe to the persona (which a lot of these personas seem to do). And I think its a fitting design for Joker (purely from an aesthetic point of view, I find it hard to comment on it from the point of "does this fit Joker's personality" because that's really down to player interpretation). But hoo boy. There's two major issues with him for me.

Obvious one is that he's a DLC Persona. Instant loss for me. It adds no sentimental factor to him as a Persona (i.e. no awakening scene), all you do is just pay however much it is for him and then bam you have a cool Persona. That was a huge missed opportunity on Atlus' part. However, this brings me into my second issue, is that even if he did have an awakening scene there is no way it would ever top Satanael. Like Satanael is such an underrated persona for me, its a shame he's underutilized in the games too, because like wow that awakening scene. Is there any bigger fuck you to a god then summoning the devil through the power of friendship and humanity's hope to shoot him in the face. Unparalleled. But back to Raoul I just don't think he tops Satanael and he's stuck in DLC which lessens his impact/importance for me even though he's probably one of my favorites design wise.

Diego: I actually really really like him. I don't know why but I appreciate the swagger this Persona has. I think what Diego does best is really capture Morgana as a character. He's cocky, confident, considers himself as a bit of a ladies man (Diego looks like a playboy sorry) and successfully brings a modern twist to Zorro (and you know fits the whole this is Zorro unmasked because well it is literally Zorro unmasked). I can see why the design wouldn't appeal to some people because admittedly it is a bit boring but all in all I think its a solid look.

William: Yeah William slaps. He's a great design. I really enjoy how he's a more punk (might not be the right word but that's the best I can think of rn), cool, sleek version of Captain Kidd. I think he really fits Ryuji in the sense that it actually looks like something Ryuji would wear lol. It fits as well with the whole "Ryuji embracing his role as the delinquent" and again as is with a lot of these designs, brings a modern twist to it. This doesn't really mean much but I really like the sleek boat that he rides on. It just looks cool and honestly that's how I feel about William. He just looks really cool and very Ryuji.

Celestine: My Ann bias might come through here but oh boy do I adore this design. I think out of all of them, this is the one that executes the third tier design principles the best. First: it's a really cool upgrade for Carmen, and it really looks like it was made for Ann. Like the confidence the swagger and yes there is the whole sexy dominatrix thing going on with her but to me it feels like this is much better executed. The men at the end of her pigtails is to be quite honest a really neat design and a nice continuation of the elements we see in the previous personas. Which brings me to my next point: this is one of the two best examples of another aspect of the third tier personas: the fact that they are shown to be a fusion of sorts between the previous two personas. I don't think the ones I've mentioned so far execute this as well as Celestine and one other I'll get to later do. The combination of the Hecate color palette and Carmen's features plus the elements of Ann herself (Celestine is very fashion model to me) is done so well that I actually think it's probably the best designed of all of them.

Gorokichi: Oh Gorokichi. I have seen two opinions on this persona: people either love him or they hate him. I am very much in the later camp. I really hate this design NOT because of the actual design itself but more so the design in context. Look on its own I love how flamboyant it is. The pink fur coat, the ridiculous heels, that Groose looking hair style it's honestly really fun and different. It looks like something out of Zoolander. This all being said, in context... no. Look Yusuke is a flamboyant character. He's an artist he's passionate we know this. But this persona is far too gaudy for him. Gorokichi looks extremely materialistic and honestly way too tacky for Yusuke. Idk I'm sure other Yusuke fans feel differently but for me I just think it's probably the most out of character of all the personas in terms of how the designs relate to the character. There's something about it that just doesn't sit right with me 🤷‍♂️ I will say though I think it does an OK job at being a fusion of Susanoo (who is by FAR the better design btw) and Goemon. Again all of that is just my personal opinion but I think this is probably the weakest of the third tier personas.

Agnes: OK after writing like essays for the others I'll be honest I don't have much to say about Agnes. Like it looks cool af it's a batmobile ass looking motorbike and I think it fits Makoto I just... don't have much else to say. I don't really understand the color scheme for this one I'll be honest considering that up until now Makoto's personas have primarily been blue so this black and gold combo kinda comes outta nowhere, but it's fine. It's just missing something for me.

Al Azif: Star Destroyer. OK but in all seriousness I like the design. Again not much to say, the sleek technology + hacker vibes obviously fit Futaba very well and all in all I like it. Like Agnes it's just kinda there for me. I will say though it does feel like a Pokemon evolution more than a fusion between the previous two. Like the Salamence line (creature -> ball -> powerful creature). Does this mean anything.

Lucy: OK I promise I'm not running out of steam or anything but again, Lucy is kinda just there for me. I've honestly been sitting here looking at it like "it looks cool. It looks like an upgraded Miladay. It's cool. Why a spy I don't know but its cool". And that about sums it up to be honest. I get that the figure she is based off of was a spy but like why a spy for Haru. Was this just a case of them going "well it looks kinda like a modern business woman and looks like a spy which is what Lucy is based on so a spy it is". Is that what's happening here.

Hereward: And here he is the main man himself. By FAR my favorite third tier Persona. Sorry Celestine I love you but have you seen this man. This Persona design hits the nail on the head. Is it a good representation of how Akechi has changed as a character? Yes absolutely (dark hero vibes). Is it a good combination of the previous two Personas? Without a shadow of a doubt knocks it outta the park. Does it fit with the initial Persona unmasked theme? Yes yes it does. I also wanna mention that I like the idea that Akechi awoke to Loki and Robin Hood at the same time (full credit for that idea goes to whoever drew that phenomenal artwork I am so sorry I can't remember their url) and Hereward being a really good combination of both of them leans into that idea nicely (that's more a coincidence tbh cause I don't think it's explicitly stated which one came first). Also this quote from the wiki really sums up how good I think Hereward's design is:

"In a similar vein to how Robin Hood's design was largely inspired by comic book hero Superman, Hereward's design may have been inspired by Batman, hence the black armor and the bat wing-like protrusions on the back of his head. This may be an allusion to Akechi's role in the third semester, symbolizing his transformation from a seemingly-altruistic hero to a feared warrior seeking to see through his own personal justice. It also can be seen as a visual combination of Robin Hood and Loki, incorporating the bow and weapon of the former and the dark aesthetics of the latter."

Ella: um. Yeah I gotta be honest on this one, I don't feel... qualified? enough to give my thoughts on her because I feel like I haven't fully grasped Sumire as a character. I think the whole Cinderella persona thing she has gong on is great and it fits what I understand of her story but as for Ella's design. Why a wedding dress. Like why. It looks appealing but like??? I don't know tbh 💀💀

And yeah that about sums up all my thoughts. I will say that like I feel my thoughts will change once I get the full story of the third semester because already I feel like a lot of these designs are missing (or I'm missing the context) some connection to the actual story of the third semester. Like these personas are supposed to represent the sort of wrapping up of the thieves character arcs and I feel like that aspect is, while the idea of the personas being based off of their original personas leans into this, ultimately underused. I don't know maybe my thoughts will change once I play it properly. Uh hope you had fun reading this because I've been typing for like an hour no joke 💀😭

#asks #nebulaleaf #persona 5 royal #good lord in heaven i went off #sorry to main tag this eheh #but yeah again as always these are just my own thoughts and opinions #i find it harder to comment on the p5 ones in general because my knowledge of the game is not as good as i am with 3 #but hopefully with me finally playing through royal again i'll be able to give fresh new thoughts you know #but ty sm for the ask leaf 🥺🥺🥺 ily <3333 /platonic #can you guys tell i have two favorites #one of them might be controversial cause as ive said people either hate or love that design #but i said what i said #enjoy reading all that LMAOOOO i am too tired to spell check 😭#man i really come on here and just rant about personas and then poof

14 notes · View notes

arthur-r · 6 days

Text

testosterone meeting complete?!?!?!?!???!!!

#it went well the doctor was so much better than any doctor i’ve met ever in my life #treated me like a human being?? was familiar with my pre-existing conditions??#saw autism on my chart and just acknowledged it and moved on?? no ‘‘are you sure you’re trans you’re just a confused autistic kid’’ ??!!#i have an informed consent paper to look at now but it’s all stuff i’ve already researched #i have officially decided that T is more important to me than biological children so we got this #(i was already basically there but i had an anxiety spiral a couple months ago about freezing my eggs which i’ve confirmed was just anxiety #‘‘just anxiety’’ i sound like a fucking evil doctor but like. intrusive-thoughts-anxiety vs thing-i-should-listen-to. i don’t want bio kids #the one thing i’m nervous about is my singing voice i wanna make sure i get some recordings in before my voice changes #cause my voice isn’t mine but i’ve sure worked hard on it shdhdf and it has a high pitched anxious quality to it that you can’t often find #shdhdhf i just feel like the voice i have now is more unique than wherever i’m gonna end up. and i really want to sound like my favorite cis #men musicians but i feel like my anxious songs just won’t hit the same if it sounds like some guy is singing them #so i’m gonna make some recordings within the next month to put out pre-T demo versions of my songs (real demos not what i’m always posting)#and then i’ll be ready. cause i want to sound like some weird shitty man SO BAD. please just let me be some off-key guy with voice cracks #TO BE CLEAR i would sure like to be a talented singer on testosterone. which has happened for one of my dearest friends and can probably #also happen for me. if i keep working on my voice all the time. BUT i would rather have a shitty low voice than a beautiful high one #which i did a lot of thinking about and grappling with since i’m a vocalist and it’s kind of really important to me #but half the male musicians i listen to can’t even hold a tune. so I CAN HANDLE IT #anyway!! i’m going to latin now!! and then i have work and then asexual club and then heading home and maybe laundry #i hope everybody has a good day and i love you dearly #me. my post. mine.#delete later #medical cw #(? ask to tag)

3 notes · View notes

bionicbore · 1 year

Text

Y’know I kinda wanna elaborate on the HC I mentioned, where I said that if Donald hadn’t found out what Douglas was doing and intervened, Douglas would’ve eventually cracked and fessed up

Mostly I wanna elaborate that he wouldn’t have fessed up because of ethical guilt (though I do think he may have something somewhere inside him that would give a damn about ethics. He did seem pretty excited to do good things after all) but more because he’s got the emotional strength of a wet tissue and would feel personal guilt after getting so attached

I’m gonna put most of it under a cut ‘cause it turned into a full on Douglas study I guess

Like... obviously I’m prefacing this with it being my own interpretation of the guy, but Douglas was a pretty emotional dude in the show. His entire redemption was rooted in his emotional attachment to his family. His morals never 100% improved, and the growth we did see was almost entirely motivated by “My family won’t like me if I’m a bad guy :(”

And while he’s not a particularly GOOD dad, he is a dad. Literally every kid Douglas gets more than 2 minutes of screen time with, he goes into some kind of Dad Mode

So, the way I see it, I don’t think Douglas would’ve lasted if he got to keep the Rats for longer than he did. It’s never actually said how old the kids were when Donald found out, but they couldn’t have been older than like... 3? Tops? Possibly even younger, technically. If Douglas actually got to watch those kids grow up in whatever messed up environment he had them in to keep them hidden (Which, I’ll be honest- based on comparing the brothers’ lab quality, was probably a worse environment than Donald’s lab) I don’t think he would’ve been able to commit. Not with the original trio, anyway

ALSO. I wanna bring up Donald, ‘cause he’s also a factor in of himself

Yeah, the brothers fight a lot, and did fight a lot. But I think it’s worth remembering that despite that, these two founded a company together. They invented things together. They work together seamlessly when they get in the zone. Douglas, despite all the animosity, was ecstatic at the prospect of getting to work alongside his brother again, and was genuinely sad when Donald didn’t feel the same, but chose not to fight Donald’s decision

Douglas cares what Donald thinks of him, and I bet he cared a lot more before Donald discovered what was happening and made his own judgement call. The two of them had to have been incredibly close, and that probably would’ve weighed on Douglas, too

But Donald found out on his own, and he didn’t waste time. He saw the children, he saw the conditions, the plans, the schematics. There was absolutely no way to rationalize what was happening here, Donald had to get these kids out and away. His little brother was using their assets to make deals with terrorists regarding the creation of bioweapons in the form of children

And Douglas was left ghosted by the most consistent presence in his life for the past 20+ years, locked out of the company he helped build from nothing, and separated from these kids who have also been a consistent presence in his life for entirely different reasons

And Douglas is notorious for deflecting and pushing back when someone else decides that he’s in the wrong. All that potential turmoil means the time between Donald finding out and Douglas “dying” was probably like. Intense. To put it mildly

All this to say: Douglas is still a DICK lmao and the point of this post is NOT to be like “Douglas deserved better” or even “Donald is to blame.” It’s more about how Douglas is a notably emotion-driven character and how it affects his dynamics and actions, both positive and negative

It’s also my favorite kind of angst- where technically, things could have turned out okay, or at least better than they did, if everyone involved hadn’t been such a mess

#Lab Rats #Douglas Davenport #I'm only tagging Douglas 'cause he's the focal point but Donald does get a fair bit here #Anyway Douglas fascinates me 'cause like. I definitely don't want him or his actions to be underplayed #Like it really doesn't matter if he wouldn't have gone through with it. Especially not at the time everything happened #The fact that he got as far as he did is damning enough #But also he is SO pitiful and his emotional reliance on others is interesting #Especially in contrast to how nonchalant he tends to act #He's perfect for exploring how consequences effect someone #Which is why I draw him with such tired eyes and like to write him being Fucking Miserable #And I'll say it. Dude was a SOFTIE in the actual show #Seriously- in no particular order:#He made Chase some good soup. He went above and beyond to save Leo's arm. He gave every Rat a new ability for various reasons #He stood up for various kids on numerous occasions. He cried when Leo became an instructor #He saved a stray dog. He put a kid up for adoption to keep him safe.#He encouraged his robot son's passion for drama club. He actively helped Donald with the indestructible car #Look me in the eye. Make direct eye contact with me and tell me #That this man could raise 3 flesh and blood children from infancy #And simply pawn them off as disposable weaponry #You cannot convince me. Douglas Davenport is too pathetic to commit to that bit #He's willing to kill a kid but that goes out the fucking window if he spends more than 1 non-hostile hour with said kid #He acts like he hates his brother's guts but will literally drop it the minute Donald's nice to him in any capacity #... See now I went and wrote TWO essays #Kill me

27 notes · View notes

avatardoggo · 2 months

Text

i held a man’s hand today

#this has been in my drafts since the 10th so please forgive me on the late update i’ve been Busy ™️#it all started on the weekend FG dropped me off at my choir performance for school and i’d been running around all day so i was all 😵‍💫 tryi #to do everything in a timely manner and he was such a big help driving me around everywhere and stuff so sweet 🥰 and as i was outside the #theatre he was handing me something? i can’t even remember rn and he was like you’re going to do great all that good pep talk stuff and as i #was reaching for what he had in his hand i kinda just kept my hand there and he did too but i had to go so i just left and then he picked me #up after and that was that and then on sunday we we hanging out and i just went out and said it bc ya girl is no coward 😤 i said “i wanted #to do something yesterday’ and he said “’ok?’ and i was like i wanted to hold your hand and he asked why didn’t you? ‘bc i was nervy 😣’ and #then after some back and forth small joking he just took my hand and we held them in silence for a bit and i was explaining how im in my #head a lot and i’m really trying to not do that anymore esp with him and he was rubbing 👏🏾 my 👏🏾 hand 👏🏾 with 👏🏾 his 👏🏾 THUMB 👏🏾#LIKE ANSJDKKFKFKFKLLDJCNCNJDJENNXXJJD #you see normally that makes me reeeallllyyt ticklish but it was so soothing i could’ve fell asleep right then and there i promise you and he #was so gentle with his voice and omgoodness this man #so then i had to go and he was like yk you’re going to have to let go bc there’s no way im letting go 😭😳🙄 LIKE SIR #but ya that’s the latest update 🫣#mutuals my beloved <3 #vk overshares in the tags #friendly giant ™️#fg

2 notes · View notes

nejackdaw · 10 months

Text

Now That You've Lost Tomorrow (is yesterday still a friend?)

4.2k words of the Celann backstory in my head

Under the cut for length; not NSFW. Also leave my Jimminy Cricket ass alone, I was thinking about Disney narrators when I started this lmao. It wasn't supposed to be an actual piece send help

Ahem. (Tw animal death) (tw gore)

Born in the Northmoor of Breton High Rock, Celann aged to be a fine man. With a lively, happy home, he was a handsome, good natured jokester with a penchant for bringing smiles wherever he went. Be it through mischief at home, exaggerated peacocking (resulting in clumsy accidents) in front of his beloved fiancee, charitable work through the town, or the song on his lips, he was an easygoing presence that had endeared himself to the people around him. Life was good and grand: he had an easy, do nothing guard job in a happy little town to bring in coin, plans to settle down and start a family, and wanted for nothing between it all. But things started to change when his elder sister prepared to set off on her apprenticeship–dark winds blew in that he, and all of them, would never recover from.

It was an adjustment for everyone with Jehanne recently absent; she'd been gone only a week, but the absence of fabric scraps and 'come look at this for me's, the messily kept tomes and quills that dripped ink, the prospect of not hearing another "you're being ridiculous, it's been weeks! Come join us for dinner!" and her high pitched, victorious cackles as she raced away, knowing she'd magically cleared up everyone's schedules by asking–she'd only been gone a week, but it felt an awfully lot longer than that. Celann kept up with his guard work in her absence and Charlotte, ever interested in his sister's seamstress and design work, had taken up the hobby when she wasn't keeping the ledger at Garnier's, insisting someone had to be leaving fabric in a house somewhere in Jehanne's absence–to balance things out, obviously, as all good magic is supposed to be.

Time passed this way for another week or so as everyone tried to reassure themselves that everything was fine; it was a large change, but they'd known for months, and they'll settle into this new normal soon and everything would be fine. But suddenly news came whispering through the streets of strange shadows passing by windows at night, shadows with no one to cast them, and soon enough the guards were being asked to look out for missing pets, small cats and birds that must have gotten loose.

Small cats and birds that were found far from their homes and butchered, torn apart but not eaten.

An uneasiness settled over the town as more and more of the creatures turned up, and "killer" was on everyone's lips. After a few weeks of disappearances and gory resurfaces, they began tapering off until they stopped entirely. Like any predator: from small prey to large–the guards instructed woodsmen and hunters, trappers and fur traders to keep an eye out in the woods for anything that didn't look like an animal had gotten to it first. It took only two days after the order was given for a horrified hunter to return with news of a torn, gaunt elk carcass, black with rot around the edges of the worst wounds. Next it was a boar, then a doe–then nothing once again.

Celann was tasked with joining patrols, increased in the wake of the animal attacks until investigators, who so far had found no leads towards what everyone assumed to be a fledgling serial killer, could find some hint as to what had been happening. Everyone waited anxiously for the inevitable first victim.

It came only a month after the shadow appeared.

Following loud, panicked shouts, Celann stumbled into an alleyway to find something hardly recognizable as human. It was pale, even for a corpse, and gaunt like the beasts had been–ripped apart and stained black at the edges, wounds rotting prematurely. He covered his mouth and looked away as he desperately fought against the thick, burning bile at the back of his throat, side stepping into a puddle of dried blood to let a more senior guard pass by.

When everything had been documented, after the corpse had been covered and the area sealed off–more for the townspeople's sake than the scene's–and they were given permission to leave, Celann headed immediately to the blacksmith, grateful for the harsh, painful way the smell and smoke of the forge cleaned the blood and rot from his lungs. He left with three sturdy daggers, weapons he grimly pressed into his family's hands as he made them swear to carry it with them. The protests died on all their lips when they saw the fear in his eyes, each taking it with the same gravity Celann presented it with and solemnly promising they would.

After only three days, there was another disappearance; another corpse, butchered and rotting unnaturally. He'd never possessed the same gift for magic most of his people did, but Celann knew enough–knew to fear the third and what it would bring, because there was no way this terror was only a man and threes were either a blessing or a curse. In the end, it was both.

When he stumbled on the third victim, it hardly occured to him that the man had anything at all to do with the last horrifying, supernatural month. He wasn't torn open like everything before, the ground wasn't coated in blood and viscera. He looked almost like someone who'd been lucky and gone in his sleep somehow–but when Celann knelt down to check if he was alive, he startled to see familiar jewelry and recognized the gaunt corpse of the book seller from around the block. His wedding band sat at an angle around a finger too small for the old, tarnished metal, and when Celann reached for his wrist to get a better look he touched something slimy and cold.

He distantly registered someone from the patrol calling out his name as he stared down at the red on his fingers, a steadily growing urge filling him with every beat of his heart to smear it off on the rough stones beneath him until his own blood ran hot and quick and erased the feeling forever. He clenched his fist instead–looked over at the boots beside him and pretended he hadn't just terrified himself as a second guard knelt with him to inspect the body.

It was Simon who found the most important thing the body had to tell them; Celann was busy wiping the blood off on his trousers and trying to get his mind working right again. A frantic tap on his shoulder got his attention and he looked up into Simon's wide, terrified eyes before slowly turning his head to see what he'd found. The gloved hand gripping the corpse's jaw slowly retreated, shaking, and Celann looked down to see two frighteningly neat holes at the side of the neck.

They shared a long, quiet look before Celann reached out again for the merchant's hand, praying desperately he didn't dig his fingers into disgustingly smooth, exposed flesh again as he avoided gripping the wrist to turn it around. Torn and bloodied, but the black edges were smaller this time. Cleaner, neater, less noticable.

They raced away burdened with news of a vampire preying on the town, searching desperately for the commander and whatever investigators they could find.

/-/~=~/-/~=~/-/~=~/-/~=~/-/~=~/-/

The city was placed under curfew immediately after the news arrived, and patrols were focused for the dark and evening hours. Everyone was required inside and with at least one companion; a vampire could easily overpower a pair, but the hope was that, with no lone targets, it would resent the effort it would take to target anyone else. Guards were similarly paired and ordered not to stray from one another–the only souls out in the night needed to be vigilant. Celann thought about the daggers he'd bought his family, thought about Charlotte taking Jehanne's room at home without him there in the night to share their bed. He wondered what good those knives would be, what good his sword would do him, if the beast got insistent.

Heavy tension hung over the town for weeks after the news arrived. Curtains were drawn and lights were left burning outside as people hoped the creature would pass them by. Every sound was investigated.

After a week, after two, after a month… there was nothing. No pets, no woodland beasts, no disappearances.

The dread started to lighten as time passed, and after four weeks of no new attacks, the townsfolk had, to a degree, returned to life as normal. They were still sure to make it home before night properly fell, still kept a light on, but as the days went by there seemed to be a collective feeling that it had all been a nightmare, some trick of Vaermina.

Celann noted three absences with every pass through the town.

Nightmares didn't claim lives, and he worried at how quickly everyone let themselves believe any danger had passed. The bookshop was closed for a week, what with the owner being dead; he and Lotte liked to buy each other occasional gifts from there, and the darkness in the windows–always warmly lit and welcoming before–never failed to stir a sense of dread in him.

But then a second month was passing without any sort of attack, patrols returned to normal, and even Celann let himself relax. With how often the beast had attacked before, there was no way it would sit and wait for months. The town had been on alert and anything it would have hunted locked inside, but even the forests nearby had been spared. It had surely moved on at this point to easier prey, or either fled in order to avoid detection, he reasoned.

That reasoning was why he accepted the promotion offered to him: an easy, quiet job out at the watchtower, not too far from town and coming with a pay increase; he'd be replacing someone who quit, understandably, in light of the vampire attacks while they had been happening. The new station was a bit of a trek from the gates, at the edge of the forest, but the road was usually quiet enough and the pay was enticing so he agreed. Fresh air, new faces–it sounded like a nice change of scenery, anyway.

It took a few mornings–early, dark, quiet–to adjust to all the rustling, and Perrette teased him for it, but they got on well and she explained their duties simply and easily. They arrive at midnight and they're relieved around breakfast, and spend their downtime chatting or pretending they weren't falling back asleep. Celann never bothered her when she did, and she returned the favor when he was half asleep, half awake, never quite able to properly sleep in the tower; it turns out to be a good thing he couldn't.

It was early, a week or so after he'd started, and he was tired; he'd been resting with his head pillowed on his arms at his desk, lost in that dark, semi conscious haze. There wasn't anyone out at this hour, with the moon still so high, and he paid no mind when he hadn't heard Perrette for what should have been a suspiciously long time. She was probably playing cards and he was just resting, after all, not falling asleep like his coworker did. If anything popped up they could handle it.

Just resting is why one eye opened blearily at a sound outside, a sound Celann had only half heard and had already forgotten by the time he was looking at candlelit paperwork. He kept it open a bit longer, listening for any other sounds, then let his eyes close again, shifting in his seat to get comfortable. Nothing, just the dark and the quiet–but as the seconds passed something settled heavy in his chest, had suspicion creeping into his head, and he sat up to look around.

Nothing. Just the dark and the quiet. He slowly stood from his chair and breathed deep, waking himself up as he glanced around the inside of the watchtower. Perrette wasn't at the window, there was no humming or the sound of cards, like he'd expected. The deck was, however, still out on the windowsill, game partially through, and when he moved closer he spotted a few that had blown outside. A familiar dread settled over him as he looked down at them, caught in flower stems and other growth that kept them from blowing farther away.

The moon was still high. Perrette was not here. She was not with the cards she carried in a little box as a gift from her lover, hand drawn with curling letters on the back. It was quiet. It was… unnaturally still, Celann realized. He stared out through the window at the road as his hand moved to the hilt of his sword. He listened. Something moved in the undergrowth behind the station and he quietly crept his way to the–open–back door.

A black hare greeted him at the threshold, a bloody, mangled carcass with its white ribs exposed to the moonlight. The smell of rot hit him and his face twisted; his sword scraped against the sheath as he drew it.

Vampire.

Celann didn't know where Perrette was, what had happened to her, but he doubted the beast would leave a display if it wasn't waiting. It hadn't left. He stared out into the woods and swallowed, listening and hearing nothing. Nothing. His heart beat a terrified rhythm behind his ribs as he stepped outside, stepping carefully over the carcass and into the night, heading hesitantly for the woodline.

He'd hardly stepped through, heel snapping dead leaves and trampling plants–sound, something BURSTING forward, a scream–

He managed to put an arm between them, elbow digging into their chest, pain, hot, claws and yellow eyes. His heel slid back in the dirt as the creature strained against him, screaming and snarling and gnashing bloody teeth inches from his face. The hot smell of blood and decay hit him in the face and suddenly there was a fist in his hair, pulling painfully and jerking his head to the side–it vanished as soon as it appeared and Celann watched the vampire stumble back, face twisted in betrayal.

His own twisted to mirror it as he stared at the disfigured visage of his sister.

Jehanne.

She was clutching one of her hands as if injured, and he noticed a small, circular brand pressed into the heel of her palm. The shape of his earring, a small piece of silver resting by his jaw.

Those two moments stretched into forever then minutes suddenly blurred–claws, pain, BEGGING, being thrown, his shoulders slamming into a tree.

Celann blinked blood from his eyes and raised himself onto a shaking arm, catching his breath as he reached for his sword. He noticed she'd torn through his sleeves; the cloth was dark and sticky with blood, and he could feel the edge of his mouth throbbing, the skin around his lips torn open with a nasty downward swing of her claws. Jehanne was pacing agitatedly, glaring down at him and spitting to herself as he pushed himself to sit in the undergrowth. His head was throbbing dizzyingly, shoulders on fire from the impact, and he could feel something hot and wet snaking its way through the short hairs at the back of his neck.

Celann staggered to his feet, leaning against the tree for support, and let out a shuddering breath as he held his sword in front of him. Trying to evaluate.

She wasn't uninjured herself, not that it did him any good; he'd mangled one of her wrists and she'd still thrown him like a doll. He'd cut and sliced and stabbed and she was standing all the same, and they shared a mutual look of despair. Some mix of emotions flashed across her face, faintly illuminated by what moonlight breached the canopy, bright eyes wide as her lips were parting and she was clawing at her face, fangs glistening, then– "But we're family!" she wailed

The world went quiet.

Realization hit him, then. Cold blood. The world became the woman in front of him. He couldn't let her leave. Horror. Couldn't let her live. Agony. She'd kill them all. Kill her first.

He wondered how many times his sister must have crept past their windows, how many nights she must have watched him from the forest. Family. She'd kill him if it meant turning him, kill them all if he couldn't stop her.

Jehanne took a step forward and spread her arms invitingly, one wrist hanging at a sickening angle. Another step when he didn't immediately move, a sweet smile on her face, then lunged–steel and blood and pain and screams. He couldn't hesitate, couldn't go easy anymore. Blood flew from his blade as he drove it into her heart–vampires need to be stabbed in the heart–once, twice, a third time. He staggered back and tensed, waiting for her to somehow still be moving, dizzy with blood loss and buzzing with adrenaline.

He distantly watched her head slump against the ground, face half pressed into the dirt; glowing yellow eyes went dim and returned to a familiar brown. He watched, paradoxically, as she regained some color, despite being dead. Dead. He looked at glassy eyes and felt far away. Trees and green growth and blood splatters came back into view, but it was someone else's view, someone else's eyes. They laughed, whoever it was, desperate and manic, and dropped his sword as he stared at his sister's corpse. Something was screaming about it, somewhere inside him, but it was far away and muffled, a mile away.

Celann stumbled on suddenly weak legs towards the nearest tree and let himself collapse to the ground against it, staring at her face until it blurred. Everything blended together, and all he knew was that he was cold. He distantly remembered he was bleeding, but the thought vanished almost instantly into the gentle fog that was clouding his mind. He shivered, he thinks, and then thinks nothing else as he sits on the forest floor beneath the moon for hours.

He doesn't register Perrette stumbling out of the watchtower, only partially realizing she was yelling at him at all, even as she knelt beside him. He came back to himself when someone was snapping incessantly in his face, when irritation managed to stir him into some faint awareness. Simon was kneeling in front of him, eyes wide with fear as he gestured at the people around him. They descended upon him, quiet and gentle as they hauled him to his feet, and as he was half dragged, half helped back to town, all Celann really noticed was that it was morning. The sky was a pale, misty yellow–sunrise. Morning. The night was over. The night was over but he would live with what happened in the dark forever.

/-/~=~/-/~=~/-/~=~/-/~=~/-/~=~/-/

He had nightmares every time he managed to fall asleep, shepherded into the temple to be healed and watched over. Breathing was difficult and he assumed he was dying; he was only a little concerned at how okay with that he was. A stranger visited him on the third day after the Incident and the priestesses allowed her to feed him something from a vial, some liquid miracle that ended the worst of the night terrors and let him breathe easy.

There had been a newly made vampire den nearby, she explained when he woke again, and Jehanne had likely been taken the day she stepped out onto the road. Her voice was factual as she informed the temple they'd all been taken care of, but there was sympathy on her face as she looked down at the shadows under his half vacant eyes. She hunted vampires–and other deadra–she'd said as she left; there was something he didn't like in her tone, something knowing, as she closed the door behind her and told him she'd be staying in town for a month or two.

He was sent back home later that afternoon, back to he and Charlotte's house, but everything felt… strange. He felt like he was intruding on his own space, in his own house, in his own bed. Lotte was being patient, but the pain in her eyes when she looked at him sent a spike through his heart. Blood. Breaking bones. He supposed he deserved it after what he'd done, though even he could tell she very genuinely didn't think less of him for it. But she handled him gently and he missed her smiles, missed making her laugh. That solemn look didn't belong in her eyes.

His parents visited twice, to make sure he was healing alright, but there was a distance between them that had never been there. They'd raised Jehanne for 26 years, their daughter, you killed our daughter, what kind of man kills his own sister? It was never said, of course, but he could see it in the tension on their faces and the stiff way they held themselves near him.

They declined both times to stay for dinner.

Celann couldn't move on. His family thought he was a murderer, his fiancee was no longer living with the man she'd gotten engaged to. Something in bim broke when he thought about it, that they were supposed to be married in a few months. He'd been over the moon about it, wouldn't stop talking about it to anyone who listened, even if they weren't really, but the hush that had fallen over the house as Charlotte gave him the space he'd started needing felt like an ill omen.

Two months passed of feeling like an outsider in his own life and he was saying goodbye to her. She refused to break off their engagement, said he felt guilty and was being stupid, and as he tried to promise not to darken her door again she told him for better or for worse came before the wedding vows and if he didn't at least write to her on his trip with this mystery woman she'd find him and drag him back home like a runaway boy.

It… hadn't been what he'd planned on. He hadn't planned on returning or writing at all, had planned on removing himself entirely, no longer the man she'd intended to marry and pained at how she was caring for him. He hadn't told her about meeting the woman from the temple, either–but people talked and Lotte was good at listening, and he wasn't as surprised as he could have been. He had mixed feelings about the indefinite engagement, but if it was what she wanted he'd let her have it, like she was letting him leave because he needed to. They looked after each other like that.

Perrette, on her part, when he found her at breakfast, immediately told him through a mouthful of jam and toast where the woman from the temple was before standing and pulling him into a hug. She pressed a small wooden box and a dagger into his hands before wishing him well and telling him to hurry, because the stranger had been packing her things last she saw and getting ready to leave.

It turns out she had left, hours ago, but Celann found her waiting expectantly outside the gate just off the road. She was sitting with her own breakfast with a second placement set up for him, and he once again didn't like the knowing look in her eyes as he sat down. She explained, eventually, that she was with the Vigil of Stendarr, and had been sent with two others to investigate rumors of vampires in the area. Jehanne had been an opportune victim, out alone on the road so early in the morning; the vampire had been trying to start a clan and needed bodies to fill the seats.

He'd almost been one of them. It was a matter of hours, apparently.

Again, she assured him they were all dead and asked if he intended to join her and her companions on the road–if he had seen what chaos and danger creatures like vampires pose and wanted to take up arms against them. He didn't answer, and she didn't demand he give one; they ate together in silence again and she didn't comment on the way he'd glance back at the gate every now and then. The guard on duty would give a little wave each time, a sad look on his face, and so Celann looked less and less until he didn't look again at all. He was leaving, after all; something deep in him was different, had shaken him out of the life he'd had, and he was moving on. There wasn't room for whatever he was in the space he'd made for himself anymore.

A few nights later he would untie the ribbon around that little box Perrette had given him, far away from town, and open it to find a clumsily hand drawn set of cards with little messages penned in her handwriting on the back. He turned the fool around to see a scribbled portrait of himself amongst the scrawled decoration; the back of every queen was a rough sketch of Charlotte. He put them gently back in the box, retied the ribbon, and ignored the look Freyja gave him as he slipped it back into his bag.

He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, again, without a body next to him.

"For those who cherish memories of loved ones, their compassion often conceals the beast. Our compassion compels us to destroy it."

#skyrim #celann #dawnguard #writing #i really need a personal writing tag hmm #also yeah i was thinking about like. disney narrators. when the camera is showing the village or whatever #idk something new #anyway if basically everyone in skyrim is a man im making everyone in celanns backstory a woman. i make the rules #also dw about the engagement im a polyship celann truther #whos going to stop me #my last dnd character was named moore and i thought moore/less (pre/post canpaign trauma) was such a funny joke #celann went from moore to less real fast #anyway i think this was in my docs for like two months and then i wrote almost the entire thing in two days bc ao3 was down #so. my hand was forced #also im just dropping in the tags that if celann hadnt gone off on a murder journey hed have been kinda okay #but where does that leave us #no sad little man in fort dawnguard #i killed someone > im a killer > killers can only kill > i killed someone #etc its a vicious spiral #k one last extra before i forget but gunmars line at the end is what slammed the last piece of the backstory puzzle together #and the linked song is the title source #i think that covers it all #ive obsessed over every detail of this post long enough im hitting post aldnaonskw

7 notes · View notes