#regarding;; deirdre
Note
☀ - How confident is your muse in their queer identity?
@trepidaticn
So far, it seems that most of my muses are very confident in their identities. Many of them are bisexual or pansexual, a few of them are nonbinary, and I have at least one trans muse. Some of them were lucky enough to have a supportive family as they came to their own, while others had to go through a lifetime of struggle before they could be comfortable with who they are, while some of my non-human muses are above our human concepts of gender and sexuality.
However, I do have a few muses who are still figuring themselves out.
I have Kenan who, after a lifetime of horrific abuse, is now so socially cut off from people that he's under the assumption that he might be asexual-aromantic, but at the same time he's just not sure. He might be more homoromantic leaning, and he deserves a chance to explore that at his pace and come to his own conclusions.
I also have Tiegan who's never dated, but he's had brief sexual flings with people of any identity without true attachment to any of them. He mainly uses those flings as periods of self harm than true pleasure, as he just doesn't trust anyone to be emotionally vulnerable.
And then there's poor Deirdre, who claims she's straight and has only dated boys, but she has some budding attraction towards women and she's not handling it very well, due to her family having a very strict view of "traditional values".
I would truly adore being able to explore these paths with these characters, and see how their lives can go with finding and accepting themselves!
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The Fourth Archeron Sister - Part 4
summary: the baby of the family, Deirdre Archeron, is growing up and finding herself. on place she has already found is in a unknowingly requited crush with a certain shadow singer. will they be able to find each other? or will expectations, honor, and other forces get in the way?
a/n: sisterly love at its finest ;) also, sorry for the super long part, i just don't want to keep breaking this up.
Part 3
warnings: nightmares, slut-shaming, assault (but he deserves it)
wc: 4,600
‘I have a date tonight,’ Dierdre thought to herself.
What was she going to wear? What should she do with her hair? She had no idea. She thought of asking Feyre, but she’s going out with Rhys. Mor? No, she’s in the Court of Nightmares. Nesta? She doubted her siter would come but it was worth a try.
She used a magic messenger box to send a message to Nesta.
I have a date tonight with the grocer at 6. Will you help me get ready? I don’t know what to do. If you are busy or not feeling well, don’t worry about it.
-Deirdre
As she placed the note in the box, she recalled the first time she used one.
“So, I just place the note in the box, close the lid, say the person’s name who I want to receive the message and the note will appear in their box,” she said as she regarded the box with suspicion.
“Yes,” Az said. “It’s nice for non-emergency messages that don’t have any important information.”
She turned to look into his kind eyes.
“Is it magic?”
“Yes.”
“But I don’t have anyone to send messages to. Nesta and Elain are here and Feyre…” she trailed off.
Was in the Spring Court. Spying for her court and leaving her behind again.
No. No, Feyre was doing what needed to be done for her court and she would have to deal with it. She wasn’t a child who needed to hold her big sister’s hand to put on some clothes or walk across the street.
“I know,” Az said, snapping her attention to the handsome male.
She tried to remember if Az and Feyre were friends.
“Yes or no. You and my sister are friends.”
“Yes.”
The memory faded as a message popped into her box.
Of course, I’ll come. See you at 4.
- N
Odd. Nesta didn’t usually read messages that quickly, let alone respond to them. That means that she only had an hour to tidy her apartment and take a bath.
After speed cleaning her apartment, she was mid-bath when she heard a knock at the door.
With soapy hair, Deirdre scrambled to put on her dressing robe and make her way over to the door.
“Well, I hope you don’t plan on going like that,” Nesta deadpanned.
“No,” she said back. “I just assumed not smelling bad was the first step in impressing a date.”
Nesta just hummed in agreement.
Deirdre realized in that moment that Nesta hadn’t been in her apartment since she moved into it. Even then, she stepped inside that living space, looked out the window, made a comment about the view and then left.
“Well, let me go finish rinsing my hair,” she said, trying not to be awkward. “Feel free to sit in here or in my bedroom.”
Her sister just nodded.
Damn her and her silence.
As Deirdre walked out of the bathing room, she found her sister rooting in her closet.
“All you have are blouses, long skirts, and trousers,” Nesta said matter-of-factly.
“Well, it’s all I need really.”
“You can afford more, and better.”
“I don’t know how to shop for much else.”
“Non-sense. Mother used to take us shopping-” she cut herself off.
“I hardly remember Mother, let alone going shopping with her.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“I have one dress, it’s just not in the closet,” she offered. “Should I get it out?”
“Yes, let me see.”
Deirdre kneeled at her bed and felt for the box.
This dress was the only nice thing that Deirdre had ever felt comfortable buying for herself. It was long, black made of thick linen but with a faint floral pattern embroidered pattern done in a glossier thread along the neckline, cuffs, and hem.
Nesta looked at it like she looked at everything. As in, Deirdre couldn’t tell if she liked it or not.
“Do you think it’s too fancy for a simple dinner?”
“Its lovely,” she said after a moment of contemplation. “If you’re overdressed for where he takes you in this, he’s not worth your time.”
“You think its simple.”
“It is. But it also has an elegance to it. Prefect for you. Now put it on.”
Deirdre nodded as she made her way to the bathing room.
“Not in there,” Nesta said quickly. “You’ll get it wet. Put it on in here.”
Dierdre looked at her sister in annoyance.
“Oh, I’ve seen you naked plenty of times before, you prude. Just put on the dress.”
“Yeah, before. It’s different now.”
Nesta leveled a look at her.
“I have boobs now,” she whisper-shouted, mostly joking.
“Oh wow, like I’ve never seen boobs before,” Nesta said with dry sarcasm.
“Ugh, fine.”
Deirdre dropped the robe and put on her undergarments. As she begun to put on the dress, she started struggling to get the dress on over her head. She felt Nesta come over and start helping her move the dress down her body.
Before Deirdre could even try, Nesta was already doing up the buttons along the back.
Deirdre tried to look at herself in the mirror but found herself looking at her sister instead.
Nesta had a look of concentration on her face as she fastened the buttons. When she had to move Dierdre’s hair out of the way, they made eye contact in the mirror.
“See,” Dierdre broke the silence. “I can’t wear dresses all the time. I would never be able to get dressed.”
“You would learn.”
As Nesta finished, Deirdre began to look at herself in the mirror.
She looked good. The square neckline enhanced her boobs but was high enough that she didn’t feel exposed. The seams of the dress gave the illusion of a slim waist and fuller hips. And the embroidery caught the light just enough to give it a little flare.
“I don’t think you need much makeup,” Nesta said, looking at her sister’s face in the mirror. “You have clear skin, so maybe just a touch up under the eyes, some kohl on your lashes, and some rouge on your cheeks and lips and you’ll be fine. And we’ll put your hair up to show off your neck and face.”
“Whatever you say.”
Nesta did all that and they still had an hour left before Deidre had to make her way to the grocer to meet Alex.
“Would you like to stay for tea?”
“Sure.”
Nesta sat down and stated rubbing her hand along her bump as Deirdre made some tea. She went with ginger for Nesta.
As she prepared the tea tray, she tried to make conversation.
“I’m surprised that Cassian let you out of his sight this late into the pregnancy. I remember Rhys was extra protective over Feyre during her pregnancy.”
“He is sitting on the roof.”
“Should we invite him in,” Deirdre asked with concern.
“No, I told him we wanted to chat for a bit in private. The roof was the compromise.”
“Oh.”
She finished making the tea and sat down with Nesta and poured them both a cup.
“Thank you for making ginger. I know you don’t like it, but it helps with the nausea.”
“I know and you’re welcome. Besides, I think I’ve gotten used to the taste.”
“No, you haven’t. You grimace every time you sip.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
“You’re impossible.”
“And you’re stubborn.”
“Pot, kettle, black.”
“I didn’t come here to argue.”
“And that’s not why I invited you over. You’re right. I don’t like ginger, but I made it because I know it makes you feel better, but I didn’t want to ask and make you feel like you had to say something else for my sake when you came all the way here, stressing out your mate in the process, to help me get ready for a silly date.”
“That’s why I said thank you,” she said quietly. “And it’s not silly. It’s a big step in gaining more independence.”
“But I am independent. I live by myself.”
“I mean emotional independence. I don’t want to offend you, but you rely on Feyre a lot for emotional support and assurance when that should come from yourself.”
“I do rely on Feyre for a lot. But she took care of me, of us, for so long that I don’t think I know how to take care of myself, emotionally at least.”
“Well, today marks the first step.”
They sat and drank and talked for the next 45 minutes. It was the longest they had sat and talked, just the two of them in, well, ever.
After she collected what she would need for her date, they made their way downstairs.
When they got outside, Deirdre pulled Nesta in for a hug. Well, as much as a hug as they could get in with the baby bump in the way.
“Thank you for coming,” she whispered in her sister’s ear.
“Anytime,” she whispered back. “And I’ll have to take you shopping for dresses before I get busy with the baby.”
They pulled apart as Cassian landed beside them and wished Dierdre good luck on her date.
“And remember,” he said as he gathered Nesta in his arms. “If he tries anything sleazy, then use those self-defense moves I taught you on him and then run to the River House. Rhys and Feyre aren’t home, but Az is there looking after Nyx, and he’ll take care of you. Also, you look great.”
The sudden mention of Az made a wave of guilt wash over her, but she pushed it down as she assured them both she would be fine and waved to them as they took off.
She made her way to the grocer and sighed a breath of relief as she saw Alex there waiting for her.
“Alex,” she shouted to get his attention.
He turned his head and began to walk over to where she was.
He was a handsome male, with shaggy brown hair and deep brown eyes that crinkled around the edges when he smiled. His build was slim, but not scrawny, and he was scarcely taller than her.
“Deidre, hey! You look amazing.”
“Thank you,” she replied, heat rising in her cheeks. “I hope it’s not too fancy for wherever you have planned.”
“Maybe a little,” he said, smiling sheepishly. “But no matter. You always stand out in a crowd. Now you’ll look the part.”
He was dressed in dark brown linen trousers and a crisp white shirt. It was plain, no embroidery or dye, typical of the working classes of Velaris for nicer occasions.
“Come on,” he encouraged, offering his arm. “Or we’ll be late.”
She took his arm, and they made their way through Velaris. They made easy conversation about the weather, books they had read, and a play that was being advertised as they passed the theater.
They made their way into the southern part of the city, known for being a residential area, and Deidre found herself standing outside a tavern.
“I’ve never been to a tavern before,” she said nervously.
“It’s amazing, I promise,” he assured. “I know the owner and called in a favor to get us a reservation. It can get a little loud, but it’s a weekday so it shouldn’t be too crazy. The food is okay, but the drinks are better, and the atmosphere is so fun.”
She followed him inside.
Immediately, she was met with the smell of ale and bodies. The floors were covered in bits of food, like it was never mopped. There were people drinking, playing card games, and eating questionable looking food. And if this was the crowd on a weekday, she didn’t want to see how packed it was on a weekend.
She almost lost Alex in the crowd, given that he darted through the bodies, never looking back to make sure she was following. She made her way to the table he had already sat at. Before she could get comfortable in the chair, the waitress came over.
“Hey, Alex,” she greeted. “The usual?”
He agreed.
“And for you, sweetheart?”
“Um, a sweet red wine, if you have it,” she answered.
“Okay, be right back with that.”
“Thanks, Lara,” Alex said before she walked off.
Dierdre looked at him and forced a smile.
“I know this place can be a little much, but I wanted to give you a new experience.”
“No, I like it,” she lied. “I am more used to a quiet restaurant, but this is more exciting to be sure.” That part wasn’t a lie.
“I don’t mean to speak out of turn, but you seem a little sheltered. So, I wanted to give you to chance to get out more.”
“Well, I was living in poverty for many years as well as being sick. My sister, Feyre, has always been very protective of me, so it’s probably true that I’m sheltered.”
“I didn’t know that you were sick,” he said, sitting up in his chair more.
Dierdre folded her hands on the sticky table.
“Not anymore,” she assured him. “When I turned fae, my lungs healed within a few days, but I still got winded from the lack of exercise my entire life. One of the happiest days of my life was when I made the climb from the Place of Thread and Jewels to the River House without needing a break.” She smiled at the memory.
“Thank the Cauldron for that,” he said.
The words rang in her head. She didn’t have time to explain about what going in the Cauldron had been like for her before Lara came back with their drinks, and they placed a food order. There were only three things on the menu, so it didn’t take long to decide.
Just when their conversation picked up again, someone Alex knew walked in the door, and he excused himself to go say hello. She was left alone to contemplate what he said.
Just let it go, she thought. He made a bad assumption. If he says anymore about it, then you’ll say something.
Alex came back over with the friend in tow, introducing him as Maxen.
“So, Dierdre,” Maxen started. “What did Alex have to do to convince you to go on a date with him?”
“Free groceries for life,” she joked.
Maxen laughed. “Seems fair.”
Alex rolled his eyes.
“I’m kidding,” she corrected, sensing that Alex wasn’t happy. “It took him two months of flirting in his end to click in my head that he was, in fact, flirting, not just being nice. After that, I was pretty easy to ask out.” She turned to smile at Alex to find his happy smile had returned.
“That’s sweet,” Maxen said. “Well, I wish you two crazy kids a good night and I’ll see you later, Alex. And hopefully you too, Dierdre.”
“Good night,” she said, finding her way back to her seat.
“He’s a good guy,” Alex said.
Deirdre just nodded.
The rest of the meal was constantly interrupted by Alex getting up to greet people or people coming over to talk to him. Dierdre was alone for more than half the meal. She could swear that she heard the tell-tale whispering of Azriel’s shadows but dismissed the sounds as something else. When they finally finished and made their way out the door, Alex didn’t offer more than one or two responses to her conversation prompts.
When they made it back to her apartment building, she stopped and turned on her heel a few feet from the threshold.
“Thank you for the evening, Alex,” Dierdre said. “I really enjoyed myself and experiencing a part of Velaris I had never seen before.”
Alex gave her a knowing look. “You didn’t like it at all, did you?”
She grimaced a little. “It’s not that I didn’t like it or apricate it. I am just not a fan of loud, crowded places. That’s all.”
“I see,” Alex said shaking his head. “I didn’t realize you were so stuck up.”
She recoiled back like he struck her.
“Fancy Dierdre Archeron. Sister to the High Lady. So special and too good for a simple tavern with simple food, with simple people.”
She just huffed and turned to flee up the stairs.
“That tavern wasn’t too good for your sister.” That made her pause and turn to glare at him. “Oh, yeah. She went there all the time. Getting drunk and taking random males home. Maxen, the guy I introduced you too. He took her home once. I just thought that maybe sluttiness ran in the family, so I took a chance on you. But you’re a frigid bitch.”
Using speed she didn’t know she had, she made for Alex and cracked her open palm across his face. His head whipped to the side.
“Don’t you talk about my sister like that,” she spat, venom in her voice. She turned and practically ran for her apartment, fearing that he would follow her and retaliate.
She made it to her apartment and once inside, locked the door behind her.
Alex, nice, sweet Alex, who told her about the candies that would become her favorite. Alex, who seemed genuinely interested in her. Alex, as it turned out, was good actor that got mean when he drank.
She let out a shaky breath as she made her way into her apartment, stripping out of her dress and folding it neatly on the back of a chair.
I’ll deal with it, all of it, later, she thought.
After changing into her nightgown, she heard a tittering in the corner. A shadow. One of Azriel’s shadows.
“Tell him I’m well, shadow. And that I’ll speak to him tomorrow.”
Azriel always found it amusing when she spoke to the shadows directly.
He’s here he’s here, the shadows whispered to her.
“Come out come out wherever you are,” she sang, trying to make sure that Azriel never guessed that her night ended poorly.
He appeared in the doorway of her bedroom.
“Here I am,” he responded.
She immediately relaxed in his presence.
She gave him a lazy, tired smile.
“How was the date?”
“Fine,” she lied. “Probably won’t be a second one. We agreed that were better off as friends. No sparks.”
She turned to avoid his gaze.
“That’s a lie, Dierdre.”
“No,” she squeaked.
“Tell me the truth,” he demanded.
“Not tonight,” she pleaded. “I am not injured. Or harmed. I am just tired and want to go to bed. Please?”
“Okay,” he allowed. “But first thing in the morning, you tell me everything.”
“I will.”
She padded her way over to her bed and looked over her shoulder at him.
“I don’t need tucked in, ya know.”
He glared at her. “I know. But I’m going to stay until you fall asleep to leave.”
“Whatever suits your fancy,” she said, climbing into bed. “Can you cut the light on your way out?”
He nodded and silently made his way out of the room, doing as he was asked. She heard him whisper good night, but sleep was already well on its way before Dierdre could respond.
AZRIEL
He was beside himself with worry. He knew that she wasn’t physically hurt, he could see that when she came home. He could see the anger and sadness in her eyes. Alongside a little bit of fear. He wanted to go find the male and beat the answers out of him, but against his better judgement, he waited for Dierdre to wake up and tell him what happened first.
He stayed on the sofa all night. Not sleeping, of course. He picked up one of her books and leafed though it at one point but got bored quickly.
At one-point Azriel, though he heard her start to cry out like she used to and darted to her bedroom. But realized it was just the springs of her bed squeaking as she shifted in her sleep.
Azriel couldn’t help himself as he stared at her sleeping form, remembering the nightmares that plagued her for years.
“No, no, no,” she whimpered. “Let me go…leave me…”
He ran to her room as soon as the shadows told him that she was in distress. He looked at her, not knowing what to do.
“NO! NO! FEYRE!” she screamed.
He couldn’t let her stay in the nightmare any longer, but his presence might scare her. A tall, intimidating male looming over her bed.
The shadows were at the ready, eager to help the female they had come to like. They moved over her form, caressing her face and neck and gently tugging at her hair.
She awoke with a gasp, shooting up in her bed like she was poked with a hot stick. She was panting, breathless from the exertion of the dream.
“Hello?” She was asking like she sensed him or his shadows in the room.
He made noise and flicked on the light. She was looking at him, wide-eyed and terrified of whatever haunted her dreams this time.
“Azriel? What’s going on?”
“You were having a nightmare. I had the shadows wake you. It seemed better than to let you scream.”
Her faced flush in embarrassment.
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“Never be sorry for something you can’t control.”
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“It’s fine, I promise. I was up anyways.”
She didn’t respond, just stared off into the distance. Azriel was never good with words but cursed himself for not being able to comfort the girl.
He turned to leave, fearing his presence would make her uncomfortable.
“Will you stay,” she asked.
He paused for a moment, then nodded his head and went over to the chair in her room.
“Yes or no. You were there when I went into the Cauldron.”
“Yes.”
“You were hurt.”
“Yes.”
“Feyre went with Tamlin. To- to spy on him.”
“Yes.”
“You tried to save me.”
“Yes.”
They went only like that for a while. Azriel figured that was what the nightmare was about and recounting it with a clearer head was helping soothe her.
She thankfully found sleep again, but the thought of leaving her side when she was in such a state felt wrong, right down to his bones.
He had the same feeling now as he looked at her. She was in a much better place but leaving her still was not an option.
Dierdre didn’t wake till 8 in the morning, hours past when Azriel usually woke. She padded her way to the bathroom before making her way to the living room.
She jumped a bit when she saw Az.
“I though you went home and were going to come back later,” she croaked, sleep still evident in her voice.
“I didn’t want to leave you when you were in distress,” he explained, hoping she wouldn’t be mad at him.
“Typical,” she grumbled, slightly annoyed, but not mad.
He followed her over to the kitchen area where she made morning tea for the both of them.
“I don’t normally eat a big breakfast, but I can make you something,” she offered.
A voice in head screamed at him to accept the offer, but he shook his head and took a seat.
They sat in silence at the small kitchen table, fixing their respective teas to their liking. The tension was thick in the air as Deirdre avoided meeting his eyes, trying to get away with not telling him about last night.
“Dierdre,” he started. “Remember what we talked about last night?”
She pursed her lips but didn’t say anything.
He just looked at her. A gentler version of the look he gave people he captured before demanding they talk. Same sentiment, less threatening.
“Promise not to get mad,” she demanded.
He just kept looking at her in the same way.
She sighed, knowing there was no getting around him. “It wasn’t a great date. We went to a loud, crowded, sticky tavern and he left me to talk to other people a lot. When we got back, and he could see that I was lying about having liked the tavern he called me stuck up.”
Azriel was clenching his fist under the table.
“Then, he said that,” she sucked in a breath, “one of the people he introduced me too was someone Nesta slept with and he was hoping slutiness ran in the family. Then called me a frigid bitch. I proceeded to slap him and run up here.”
Honestly, it wasn’t as bad as he thought. He was still fuming and ready to kill the male. Both for the comments about Deirdre and Nesta.
Azriel could feel his jaw clenching and his pulse getting louder in his ears as Dierdre’s words sunk in.
Slut. Frigid bitch.
The insults echoed in his head.
“Well,” she said, looking a little worried.
“Thank you for telling me,” he said quickly. “I need to get going. Thanks for the tea.” He stood up and took long strides towards the door.
“Wait,” she said.
He turned to look at her.
“Thanks for staying. And don’t do anything rash. Like try to find him or tell Cassian and get him all worked up too. It’s not worth it. He’s not worth it.”
She read his mind about his plans to go tell Cassian so they could find the male and teach him some manners together.
He just sighed and walked out the door.
“I mean it, Az,” she shouted after him.
He just glanced over his shoulder and wave goodbye.
He knew that the grocer boy Alex, had taken her to a tavern, a place she would hate, and left her alone at time, but he didn’t make the shadows follow her home. He wanted to give her a bit of privacy if they kissed or something. But he still showed up to her apartment without invitation directly after a date. She didn’t seem mad, though.
Muscle memory took him to the House of Wind without him even realizing it till he was getting ready to land.
Cassian wasn’t in the training ring. Probably because it was two hours past their normal training time. He moved to pick up a blade anyways.
Swinging it in no particular fashion, turning and stepping around the ring, he let the conversation with Deirdre run through his head.
He called me a frigid bitch, she had said. The insult had him reeling. I promptly slapped him and ran up here. He felt a slight tugging at the corners of his mouth at the idea of Deirdre slapping the shit out of someone. He would have paid good money to see it.
His movements stopped when he locked eyes with his brother.
“You missed training,” Cassian said. “Not like you.”
“I slept in.” Azriel was resisting the urge to tell Cassian the truth.
“You expect me to believe that?” Cassian crossed his arms. “You haven’t slept in in the 500 years I’ve known you. You could be balls deep in a female, and you’d leave her high and dry if it meant you’d be late for morning training.”
Damn it. Cassian knew him too well.
“I was busy.”
“Not with spymaster stuff. I asked Rhys if you were off on an assignment. And he said that unless an emergency came up, you were free for the next few days.”
Azriel tried to ignore Cassian and the burning sensation to tell him what happened.
But Cassian gave him a look. A look that said: Tell me where you were or what you were doing right now or I’m going to beat it out of you.
Not wanting to get beaten on right now, Azriel reluctantly told him what Deirdre had told him.
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#acotar#acotar imagine#acotar angst#azriel angst#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#azriel x oc#azriel#acotar fic#unknowingly requited#idiots in love#sisterly love#feyre archeron#rhysand#cassian#nesta archeron
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The Demonic References in the Loptr Church
Befitting the cult of the dark god Loptous, many members of the Loptr Church, particularly those in Chapters 10 and Endgame of Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War take their names from grimoires of demonology and the occult.
Beginning with the sect's archbishop, Manfroy (JP: マンフロイ; rōmaji: manfuroi) gets his name from legends regarding Manfred of Sicily, son of Emperor Frederick II. On page 436 of Jacques Collin de Plancy's Dictionnaire Infernal is a section dedicated to Mainfroi, which claims that following his excommunication by Pope Innocent IV, Manfred studied magic and alchemy, all while communing with demons. This was largely based on a similar passage on page 303 of Pierre Le Loyer's Histoire des spectres et apparitions des esprits, which instead refers to Manfred as Manfroy. Rumors of King Manfred's deal with the devil would go on to inspire Lord Byron's Manfred, a poem telling of a noble convening with dark spirits to erase his memory of a lost lover - a sentiment based on his own failed marriage and an affair with his half-sister Augusta Leigh. The wiping of memories seemingly influenced Manfroy's act of erasing those of Deirdre, while the topic of incest likely served as a basis for the conception of Loptous' vessel.
Moving on, Zagam (JP: ザガム; rōmaji: zagamu) is the Loptrian stationed over Miletos Castle. He is named after Zagam, attested on page 711 of Dictionnaire Infernal as a Great King and President of Hell, sourced from Johann Weyer's Pseudomonarchia Daemonum, where he is instead called Zagan. The name Zagan would also be used in the later-released Ars Goetia, part of the Lesser Key of Solomon. Most mentions of Zagan claim that he could turn wine or oil into blood, and could transmute water into wine and vice versa.
Juphiel (JP: ユフィール; rōmaji: yufīru) is a Loptrian bishop defending Edda dukedom. His name comes from Uphir, a demon seemingly first mentioned in Dictionnaire Infernal on page 674. He is said to be a chemist who maintains the health of Beelzebub and the other high-ranked demons of Hell.
Dagon (JP: ダゴン; rōmaji: dagon) is a Loptrian bishop that protects Dozel Castle. His name comes from Dagon, described in Dictionnaire Infernal on page 194. But before this, Dagon, also called Dagan, was an ancient Syrian god of prosperity, kingship, and the father of many other gods. Dagan was also said to guarantee a successful grain harvest. First attestations of Dagon as a demonic entity began with the texts of the Old Testament, which claimed the Philistines to have worshiped the god above all others. De Plancy would expand Dagon's role among other demons, interpreting him to be the Great Baker of Hell - likely based on his association with grain.
Lastly is Baran (JP: バラン; rōmaji: baran), who serves to stop Seliph's army at Friege. He is named after Balan, covered on pages 76 and 77 of Dictionnaire Infernal. In other texts like the Ars Goetia, he is instead called Balam or Balaam. He is said to be a three-headed demon who responds to questions with perfect answers, whether it be about the past, present, or future. The name Balaam comes from a magician in the Old Testament, who told the Moabite king Balak how to make the Israelites sin, leading to punishment upon them by God.
Saving the most speculative for last, Veld is a high-stationed bishop of the Loptr Church who carries out Manfroy's orders throughout the Munster District. The name seemingly comes from the Old Norse veld, appropriately meaning "I rule over; I am the cause of".
In Japanese, Veld's name is written ベルド (rōmaji: berudo). It is possible that the name is a greatly truncated form of ベルゼビュート (rōmaji: beruzebyūto), Belzébuth, a French name for the Lord of the Flies, Beelzebub. Similarly to Dagon, some of the earliest mentions of Beelzebub come from the Old Testament, where he was a god of the Philistines. The Testament of Solomon would go on to assert that this was but another name for Lucifer. Other sources interpret the two as separate, however. On pages 89 and 90 of Dictionnaire Infernal, Belzébuth is claimed to be the prince of demons, the absolute leader of Hell, and second in power and wickedness only to Satan himself. For "Manfroy's Rock" and seemingly the second most powerful member of the Loptrian Order behind the archbishop to be named after Beelzebub would be rather appropriate, though the connection is certainly a stretch.
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Gangrel and Arvis from Fire Emblem are the same character. I will elaborate:
- Redhead antagonist who faces off against a blue haired lord who either himself or his kingdom has been a threat to theirs, enacts a plan to kill someone to thwart them and succeeds in that regard (for Gangrel, it was Emmeryn, for Arvis it was…almost everyone)
- Later they come to find grief and regret for their actions even though they believed that they were doing what had to be done. And (barring that you don’t marry Gangrel) they die in grief, never able to make up for their transgressions in their minds.
- Both of them worked with parties working under the shadows for their own sinister causes
Manfroy wanted a child w Loptyr blood for his god, the Grimleal wants to awaken Grima.
They both wanted to awaken evil gods with the aid of said redhead villain
- They’re both definitely not straight, but the game doesn’t allow them to like men.
- They both have (or can have) red headed sons.
What differentiates them here is that Gangrel’s son Morgan loves him and is not a product of forced incest by said shadowy party.
(Idk if Julius loves his dad, but I do know he’s a lil messed up by that dragon blood.)
- They lost their moms at a young age.
Gangrel’s mom died when he was young, Arvis’ mom dipped when he was young, taking Deirdre and leaving him with his father.
- Not directly related to the two, but said Blue Haired Lord that faces off against them sires a Blue Haired Child that will come in the future to help take down the evil Dragon God that the main villain of the game has reawakened.
Hell, the whole marriage + child unit system in Awakenings lifted from Genealogy.
- They’re both really hot.
Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.
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SHAY WALKER────
ONLYSHAY! HE/HIM. 17.
@/benni.benson──Bennett Benson, Shay's best friend back in England. (he/him, 17, Shay and Ben were often regarded as brothers rather than friends due to their near identical looks. medium brown curly hair with pale to tan skin, taller than average. where Shay wears glasses, Ben does not. very open to his emotions, loves to hug his friends [didn't let go of Shay for almost an hour the last time they saw each other] and is rather the 'class clown'. he's the one who introduced Shay to memes.)
@/ginantonic──Gina Tonkin, Shay's ex—girlfriend and good friend. (she/her, 17, medium sized all round (height and weight). naturally a brunette but died her hair a pastel pink! comes off as kind and calm but is a downright chaotic menace in reality. Shay and Gina were together for about a year (15-16) but broke up when she realised she was a lesbian. They're still good friends!)
@/jogonjoey──Joey Baker, Shay's good friend. (they/them, 18, they're away at university but came back to Shay's send off party just to say goodbye! can come off as a bit of an arsehole but it's just because they're blunt and don't beat around the bush.)
@/19daviss──David Swinton, an acquaintance of Shay's. (he/him, 16. they're not friends, just friendly.)
@/walkedani──Danielle Walker, Shay's older sister. (she/her, 24, made the decision to stay in England with her fiance when the family moved to America.)
FIVE FACTS━
Shayne was born in Nottingham, England, where he lived in quite the rural village. When his father, Andrew Walker, got an overseas promotion Shay was actually really excited to go. The adjustment from countryside cottage house to NYC apartment is still a big thing for him!
Shay facetimes Ben almost every day, despite not having an iPhone. (He poaches his mother, Deirdre's iPhone just before she start making dinner.) It's been almost a month since the Walker's settled in at New York so their daily calls might finally dwindle to weekly calls now.
Shay is actually quite self conscious about his looks, he thinks he's pretty generic and unspottable in a crowd. He used to have braces but he kind of laments not having them anymore because at least with them in he 'was a little interesting'.
He's actually a middle child, with two sisters. Danielle, the older one, stayed in England with her fiancé, Ryan, while Ingrid, the eight year old, had to come to NYC too. He loves messing with her but he'd never hurt her intentionally! They get ice-cream every Friday afternoon now, it's a new ritual.
Easily the most online presence of the ROs, posts once to four times a day depending on that days events. It's actually quite amusing to go through his entire timeline! (the link in his bio is an actual Rick Roll 😭)
+Shay's favourite kind of desert pie (because it's a different thing in the UK!) is actually lemon meringue pie.
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The Abyssal, Morana, before and after imprisonment.
[click the image for better resolution]
I used this opportunity to also tweak Morana’s original look (the before) a bit—in regards to her veil and ‘crown’. The original had my attempt at a liquid gold, floating ‘crown’, but decided a shadow one would suit her better. Because, you know…😅😅😅
So, before she used to freely show off skin—but after imprisonment she wanted to cover-up because of her horrible scars from the chains, but left her chest open to display both the scar on her chest (as a metaphor for her wounded heart) and the missing sunstone she used to wear religiously.
Her hair grew ridiculously long, and she hardly takes care of it now (often just leaving it down to drag across the ground), but don’t worry—I’m sure a certain red-head will attempt to fix that 😉
She still loves Sol, but is too angry and bitter to fully acknowledge it; and now she makes a point to try and avoid sunlight as much as possible, often traveling in the shadows or at night with the moon and starts covered by clouds.
She has 3 kids with Sol, who’re in the process of being created:
Deirdre: God of Funeral Rites and Melancholic Thoughts
Lorelei: Goddess of Decay and Sentimental Feelings
Ahriman: God of Fallen Warriors and Disaster
I wanted them to have some blended forms of both Life and Death in their Titles/powers.
D: has more emphasis on death and the feelings that usually come after the passing of a loved one.
L: associated with fungi and the process in decay, helping new life to come afterwards—along with the feeling of thoughts/objects/people that bring good (or bittersweet) thoughts/memories from the past (to either sooth or not).
A: the twins hate him—because he follows them from battlefield to battlefield, reminding them of his mother. Associated with those who died in battle, and the disaster that often follows War and bloody battles; he represents the Grim reminder of the cost of war, of what was sacrificed to achieve victory.
@theabyssal
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Is it possible that there just happens to be valid things to criticize about FE7, genealogy, and even tellius? His criticism of Kaga was that he can't write women. Are you going to defend what FE4 did with Deirdre?
There's a difference between criticizing a game and using that criticism to attack other fans and claim that your own fave is vastly better.
Every FE has issues with writing women, with Tellius being the one setting that's generally agreed to do the best (or least bad) in that regard. Kaga's biggest problems with writing women is that they're either underwritten, like Deirdre and Julia, or subject to gender-specific violence in a way that's only slightly more complicated than the boilerplate 80s/early 90s save-the-princess video game plot. I'd still take those issues over how Houses writes many of its women, which includes
specific fetishes that come off as annoying or pointless if you're not into them (Bernadetta, Kronya)
worldbuilding elements (ex. Ingrid, Hanneman's sister) that are either never fully explored or else flattened out into a general problem with Crests and not that these are in fact examples of entirely mundane misogyny given a bit of additional flavor with the fantasy element
using female characters as rarely-seen plot devices/exposition dumps (Rhea in both games) or denying them agency in key moments in exchange for something cutesy (Edelgard in SB's endgame) or to avoid placing responsibility on them (Edelgard in AG's endgame)
as long as we're including Hopes, adding in a new character whose existence amounts to one extended lesbian joke - one that wears thin even faster than FE10's Heather because Monica has much more screentime
a self-insert fixation that compromises every character but hits the female lead the hardest because her romance with you - that is, you the player - is baked into the story...which is doubly irritating if you're not into women
and for that matter the existence of gender-variable Avatars with identical scripts, which can't have any gender-specific traits (except in gameplay, ironically) because they're simultaneously both.
Many of those are also issues that crop up in the other modern FE games, on account of that whole writing-for-Heroes-whales thing (and while we're at it, isn't that game an absolute mess when it comes to writing women?). To quote a mutual, Deirdre might have the personality of a wet sack of flour, but at least that can be expanded upon or improved in supplementary material or in remakes, and comes with the marginal excuse that you couldn't really point to many female video game characters in 1996 that were written much better. I'd still take that over the off-putting player pandering silliness that drags down so many modern female characters in this series.
FE16 is still very much of a piece with the rest of the franchise, warts and all, and pretending otherwise just to bully other fans who might have other favorite games is just asking to have your opinions disregarded.
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“I have headcanoned for a really long time that Azriel self harms. I could see him cutting or otherwise purposefully injuring himself.”
I could definitely see this. Maybe he doesn’t wrap his hands when he trains and lets his skin get cut up and bruised easily and doesn’t let himself heal. If Azriel does cut himself, do you think his brothers would know or have their assumptions? I feel like if they did know it wouldn’t be because Az told them. I don’t think he would tell anybody.
Also, for Gwyn, how do you think she deals with her trauma? I know some people view her only as passive and optimistic/upbeat, (which there’s nothing wrong with), but I wonder if deep down she has some intense rage, (which would be very understandable) and deals with things like Azriel or Nesta, but hides it from everyone. We don’t have her POV, but I really want to know more about her character.
I use to cut myself and I’m a survivor of assault, so it makes curious, and a little nervous, as to how Sarah will approach these topics. I think she’s done research on disabilities for Chaol when writing TOD, but I can’t be too sure. Please correct me if I’m wrong.
First off anon, giving you the biggest virtual hugs ever, I am glad to hear that you aren't harming yourself anymore. It may never go away, but you've come out the other side stronger and wiser.
Yes, harming could be something that no one could accuse Azriel of doing intentionally, but instead they may notice him playing fast and loose with his own safety. I think we can already see a bit of that with the risks that he takes on his missions, how willing he is to do things to others (IE torture) without regard for how those actions might affect his own psyche. It would be really easy for him to brush off the injuries as being part of the job, for him to make excuses about how he was injured. If he pushes himself a bit harder than he needs to and he ends up in a dangerous position, then people might have a hard time saying he's actually being self-destructive, you know?
I don't think his brothers would know or that he would tell anyone. Just speaking from experience, if people know then they want to help and then you get attention and really you just want to suffer and self-destruct in isolation. He's a pretty closed book, he doesn't really share his inner life, and perhaps he doesn't even acknowledge those behaviors as being harmful? I kind-of headcanon that he thinks he deserves it. Also, I think that people who have never done anything like that just... will never get it. It's so foreign to them. It's fine that they don't, that just makes it really tricky to navigate telling anyone and then hoping to get an understanding response!
I see Gwyn's competitiveness and pushing herself to train as the way she is dealing with her guilt and grief over Catrin. I don't think she's self-destructive at all, but her attitude seems to be more along the lines of "never again". I am rereading acosf so if I find any quotes I'll add them. She's one of the characters that sjm has described as being kind and optimistic despite what she's gone through (like Mor and Elain), and so to me, her training is the way she is being proactive. Gwyn definitely carries guilt for her sister's death, but I think she knows cognitively that it wasn't her fault (also like Elain! who acknowledges that her father's death wasn't her fault, but still has regrets).
Funny story, but the omniscient narrator did actually give us a peek into Gwyn's mind in acosf.
Roslin, Ananke, and Deirdre were close on their heels, propelling Gwyn to push her group harder. She wanted to be the first. Wanted Nesta and Emerie and her to be the ones who wiped the smirks from Azriel’s and Cassian’s faces. Especially Azriel’s.
Gwyn didn't tell Nesta this information; the omniscient narrator is telling us Gwyn's thoughts and feelings. There may be other points in the book where this happens, it's just the first one that comes to mind!
But anyway, I don't know if I see rage in Gwyn, so much as I see determination for the events of her past to never be repeated, and to me, that comes out as her competitiveness towards Azriel, wanting to cut the ribbon, making it through the Blood Rite, etc.
Sjm did do research on disability! I went to her Tower of Dawn event in London (in 2017) and she mentioned interviewing people with Wounded Warriors Project to better understand their injuries and to try to write Chaol's experience with care. There isn't a recording of this event as far as I know, back in the day you either went in person to events or you waited for people to make recap posts on Tumblr. Fun fact, that event was also where she announced her first pregnancy!
I'm personally not worried about how sjm will handle either of their healing stories, mainly because I'm not sure that she would actually delve into the depths of Azriel's self destruction. She pulled Nesta's story away from those themes pretty quickly and easily in acosf, so...
I hope that their stories help you feel seen and understood, however they turn out <3
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What are your thoughts on Genealogy and Thracia's stories ?
Ok so keep in mind I only finished Genealogy for now (Thracia chapter 15)
Genealogy isn't bad but I didn't felt every invested into the story and I can say it's overrated for what it is like... the fandom treat is as if it was the best story of the franchise or the Volsung saga in anime chess form but... it's just ok ? The first part is essentially just Gugurd conquering territories by accident, important stuff such as the romance with Deirdre are rushed and I am positive that it's mainly because of the Behalla twist that its regarded in such high regards by the fandom but that twist didn't impacted me as much as it should. I think the Gen 2 act is slightly better, it has more narrative higlights and feel more focused but even then it's nothing like the fandom portrays it. It's not a bad story and most of the problem it has mainly comes from how old it is but if you listen to the fans when playing it you are going to feel disappointed.
Thracia's story however doesn't get praised enough : It's so good.
I still need to finish it but so far it's been very good.
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[ 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐦 ] : sender has killed someone who threatened the receiver.
The blood pools around his boots, a testament to how close the enemy had gotten before an arrow through the neck had managed to put him down. Andrei steps back, willing his breaths back to normal. He had not thought an ambush would occur so close to monastery grounds, nor that it would target them.
This is the kind of mistake he cannot afford to make twice.
"Lady Deirdre, are you unharmed?" he asks, looking towards her immediately once the danger had passed, "I apologize for not being more vigilant, but we should return to the monastery in case of further danger."
He spares not a single glance at the body on the ground. To kill in service of Grannvale is his obligation, one that he must never shirk, regardless of their situation.
(He hopes she does not think of his father, of the conspiracy.)
It happens so quickly that Deirdre does not even notice her would be assailant before the scream escapes her throat and he lies dead at her feet, Andrei's arrow protruding from his neck. Perhaps she should have been more careful but she is so glad that Andrei had been there to keep her safe.
"Thank you, Lord Andrei," there is a shakiness in her voice and she steps closer to him, grabs tightly to his arm to let him walk her back to the safety of the monastery. "I am quite lucky to have you as my protector."
It is not the first time he has killed in her name but she tries not to consider the tangled web that connects both of their pasts together. It is too much. Too overwhelming. Too sad. She is content to simply regard him as a dear friend in their presents.
"We should alert someone. There could be more villains like him lurking about."
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Bouncing slightly off of the current dialogue @phantasyhalation is having, I think there are a couple of things that people seem to have misconceptions about WRT FE4's worldbuilding. One of these things is the status of women in regards to inheritance in Jugdral.
As we begin the game with no women in positions of power whatsoever and the prioritization of male over female children in the epilogue in terms of inheritance, one might argue that women in Jugdral are socially and legally barred from rule in the continent. This is a reasonable assumption to make; however, I argue that this is an artifact of Doylist narrative choices rather than a Watsonian prohibition on the concept in-universe.
You see, there are exactly two instances in the game where a woman is barred from rulership with no other explanation besides the fact that she is a woman, and only one of these is stated explicitly.
One of these is Altena; she's Quan's older child, the inheritor of major Njorun blood, and generally seems to fit the part of ruling a united Thracia fine. However, one could conceivably argue that her association with Travant makes her a less-than-ideal ruler for the purpose of uniting the nation, even though this is not spelled out explicitly as a reason for abdication.
The other is Deirdre- King Azmur states quite explicitly that Arvis's son is to be king, not a potential daughter. This is extremely difficult to pass off as a simple choice of words, or something related to Deirdre's circumstances (though she's an amnesiac teenager, her children would presumably be raised to understand what rulership was). However, I think it's instrumental to note that prior to Deirdre, all the Major Naga bearers in Jugdral were men- it's possible (though not likely) that Azmur thinks that Deirdre is an anomaly, and in general only men inherit the full breadth of Naga's power. Not that this wouldn't be misogyny, but it would be a different type.
Either way, you may be banging your fist against the window and shouting at me right about now. "Well, what about the epilogue? Why do only men inherit land there?"
Well, conveniently, in every single duo of children except for two (one of which has already been addressed), the male sibling is older. Therefore, if we go by absolute primogeniture rules, the male sibling would inherit the throne. This includes Seliph and Julia, for example; as seen in Agustria to dramatic effect, major holy blood does not preempt primogeniture. The only exception not already addressed is Lene and Coirpre; however, Lene does not know that she and Coirpre are siblings until the epilogue itself, and there would be issues with her inheriting a throne unrelated to her gender (namely, her former societal position.)
In fact, it's not even the case that no female children will inherit rulerships in Generation 2. It's easily demonstrated using a very popular pairing from this game- Tailtiu and Azelle. If the two marry, Arthur will inherit Velthomer, while Tine will inherit Friege. There is no mention of gender whatsoever upon Tine's inheritance, which one would expect if it was an ironclad rule in politics.
"All right," you say. "Gen 2 women can inherit thrones if no male heir is available. Fine. However, what about Gen 1 women? Specifically, the Yngvi twins? Why does Andrey have the dukedom of Yngvi at the end of gen 1?"
Well, at the beginning of gen 1, Duke Ring was still alive and ruling Yngvi. There's no strict indication that Edain or Andrey is the heir to the house at this point, but notably, Edain remains home to guard Yngvi while her father is fighting on the Isaachian front- just as Sigurd does while his own father, Duke Byron, did the same. It's generally a poor move to take one's heir along into battle with oneself- if you both die, then who takes over the house? With this in mind, it's quite odd that Andrey was allowed along to Isaach if he was said heir. (Of course, as for Brigid, she was quite occupied with piracy at the time.)
At the end of gen 1, both Edain and Brigid are part of Sigurd's army- he has been branded a traitor at this point, so it's quite easy for Andrey, after murdering Duke Ring, to say that they have functionally abandoned their rights to the throne.
The two of them having no right to the position of duchess would be an ESPECIALLY odd bit of worldbuilding, considering Jugdral's recent history. Their very house was founded and ruled by a woman less than 125 years ago! I cannot imagine that the continent backslid far enough, culturally, that Ullr's legacy would be forgotten that swiftly.
Fjalar and Njorun as well ruled their own kingdoms, though Njorun alongside her brother as a co-sovereign.
So, while misogyny is present in Jugdral in many ways, we only get one explicit statement that it's in the way of rulership for women. Everything else is an implication that could be explained by other means; while this says interesting things about the writing itself- making every woman younger or creating a plausible excuse for her not to rule is not exactly feminist- it doesn't allow us to come to a hard conclusion on what the potential for power is for female nobles of the continent. (That is to say, those who were born into noble families, not those who marry into them).
A final aside: The continent's past involves what is essentially the Roman Empire in Switzerland. With this in mind, one could come to the conclusion that Jugdral's pervasive misogyny is simply intending to mirror that in Roman society. However, I don't think this makes much sense; though the Roman Empire in the real world hated women professionally to a degree not seen before or since, the Empire in Jugdral doesn't have much reason to have the same social roles. Its warriors generally dominated the continent through magic, not physical might, due to the fact that prior to its rise Jugdral lacked magic entirely. Therefore, the idea of women generally being worse fighters in a society focused on war leading to their value in the eyes of said society being lowered (suspected cause for Rome's place in the argument) doesn't make much sense. In addition, as Emperors had to be selected based on their Holy Blood, rather than primogeniture et cetera, they needs must have been both men and women- unless you're of the opinion that being born with Major Loptous guarantees that you'll be a man, which is an interesting proposal. Also, they're a dragon; a member of a species where, as far as we can tell, gender has no meaning. All of them bearing the name Emperor is no different from Naga bearing the name King.
Thank you for reading to the end! Jugdral sucks to live in as a woman, especially as a commoner, but it doesn't suck in precisely the ways that it's assumed to.
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“Deirdre’s a bit hard to comprehend if you don’t know her. For example, If she tells you something to the effect of ‘I’ll make your blood flow’, that’s good news.”
“...How is it good news that one of the top ranked state-sponsored Gladiators just said she’ll make your blood flow?”
“It’s because she means your literal blood flow, your circulation. Dee wishes to be a master masseur one day. She’s gonna give you a massage, and to be honest? She’s pretty damn good at those. Now, on the other hand, if she promises you ‘plentiful rest’--”
“Oh, that’s when she’s going to disembowel you?”
“That’s when she’s going to disembowel you.”
-- A conversation between a certain visiting Archbishop and a new intern, regarding Deirdre.
Deirdre “Caerbannog” Gutraidh, drawn by the talented Yoko (@Yoko_Yukine04). As a state-sponsored Gladiator, her ring name is “Caerbannog”, but outside the arena, when not fully kitted out in that tough, identity obscuring armor and helmet, she’s just Deirdre Gutraidh, aspiring masseur (or massage artist), usually seen dressed as a janitor around the Holy Gladiatorial Grounds doing this and that, as part of her mandated disguise. It is only during nighttime, when the sea of neon drowns out the stars and the bustling night crowd keeps the blood of commerce and high-stakes leisure pumping in the entertainment districts that Deirdre is allowed some much needed me-time, usually hitting a quiet little bar on the outskirts and drinking the night away while chatting with drinking buddies of hers, a most stalwart group comprised of other bar regulars, or sometimes, if schedules align, her only close friend, a certain Archbishop (who takes proper precautions to not be recognized in the wild in a dinky little bar, of course).
This whole “life” thing would be pretty easy if she didn’t think about it too much: Fight whoever she’s told to fight, make sure to read the fine print that sometimes says “kill him, make it look accidental, we’ll handle the media as usual” or “drop the fight 6 minutes in, make her look good”, and then do as she’s told. It’d be oh so easy to just follow the instructions that her boss and adoptive father, owner of the state-sponsored “Sun Eater Gladiator Club”, lays out for her. Sometimes, someone the state doesn’t like is being a bit too successful, and the brass on top of nation calls in a favor with an attached paycheck to the old goat, and he’d be remiss to deny his old buddies in the Cathedral of the Firmament their satisfaction, so sometimes, someone’s gotta go, and likewise, sometimes the Cathedral goons have put a lot of money behind a certain someone and want to make them big, so chop chop, get making them look good, old goat, and old goat always says yes. What’s a win or a loss, anyways, when no matter what, as long as you do as you’re told, you’ll always have a roof above your head and an easy, leisurely life ahead of you?
Well, if you ask Deirdre, that’s hell.
The Kingdom of Stars, Attorhia, has many a legend, many a myth, a cultured seeped in folklore. For the school she was attending, it was just an end-of-the-year stage play, a sundry affair, a bothersome tradition, even, but for Deirdre, it became a lifelong inspiration and aspiration: The Pilgrimbreaker.
The story is a staple in Attorhia, about the famous folk hero, the eponymous Pilgrimbreaker, a knight from long ago that fought tirelessly against corruption, her climatic showdown against the entire Gashdyre Cult, her sworn enemies, being the stuff of legends: For 72 hours, she fought against the entirety of the Cult. The Cult congregated every single member it had and went after her at the same time. For anyone but the Pilgrimbreaker, this would’ve been a lynching... Oh, but they failed to realize that all they did was save her the trouble of finding them! 24 hours in, her greatsword dulled out. 48 hours in, she couldn’t feel her muscles. 72 hours in, her senses had given out and she was running on pure instinct, swinging the heavy, dull sword and never missing her mark. The story ends with the Pilgrimbreaker courageously declaring that so long as the selfish desires of the corrupt threatened the honest man and woman of Attorhia, she’d forever keep fighting. This is the story that Deirdre idolized. This is who, what, she wanted to be.
Ah, how mighty can folklore be, to shape the worldview of aspiring do-gooders and children around the world! But Attorhia is less a Kingdom and more a series of cogs nowadays, and the engine that keeps it grinding and turning is capital. Though Deirdre was excited to become a Gladiator in her adoptive father’s Club, as the Pilgrimbreaker herself was a Gladiator in the early verses of her story, she was convinced she’d be paving the way to a better tomorrow, that she’d be honoring the esteemed high officials of the Cathedral, that she’d uphold the values of knighthood and the greater good. The more she fought, the more she was given strange orders such as kill here and lose on purpose here, the more Deirdre came to realize that Gladiatorial Combat was just a stage for political power plays and a boiling pot of ad revenue: “Caerbannog scores yet another crushing victory! Did you know? It is said the mysterious fighter’s chains and hooks were supplied to her by Kizna Heavy Industries, the premier weapons and armor manufacturer! Kizna Heavy Industries, carving the way to an auspicious tomorrow! Check out our catalog at www.kiznaheavy...” This was something she was far too used to by now. And yet, part of her wanted to believe these were just her trials, all paving the way for a future in which she could inspire and protect others properly, a road paved one bloody brick at a time.
If only she knew that soon enough, something would happen that would shatter even that last bit of faith she held with bloodied, splintered fingers, and from the scattered shards, a river of blood would pour forth...
But that is a story for another day.
Deirdre’s magic is simple and straightforward: She can sharpen things. That’s it. It would be rather underwhelming if this wasn’t paired with her immense sheer brute strength and wild, berserker style of fighting. It’s not that she’s lacking in intellect, or that she doesn’t have proper training; retired Gladiator “Eclipse”, her adoptive father and boss, personally trained her in the art of fighting, even passing down his vaunted tridentfighting techniques to her. In fact, her first few matches as a Gladiator had her use a trident. But Deirdre cannot be bound by the desires of others, not even when fighting, thus she quickly put her custom-made trident back on the rack and made herself a pair of makeshift weapons: Composite stagsteel chained hooks. Stagsteel is almost exclusively used as a construction material, and makes for an unorthodox choice of material for a weapon, as it is far too heavy and far too hard, making swinging it difficult and sharpening it an incredibly expensive, time-consuming endeavor. Deirdre’s raw strength and ability to sharpen things, however, make it a perfect match for her. Going wild is just natural for her, and following her sharp instincts is just what’s best for her, she insists. Besides her chained hooks, Deirdre has a penchant for sharpening her fingers to lacerate foes with brutal swipes of her hands.
Her close bonds include a slightly strained relationship with her adoptive father, a close friendship with a certain Archbishop that likes to stick her nose where it doesn’t have any business sniffing around, and casual friendships with some drinking buds of hers, in particular a certain journalist. Of note, Deirdre’s made fast friends with two twins, a brother-sister pair of “League Gladiators” (think pro-wrestlers, their fights are a show instead of actual fights) with high aspirations, and it is from them that her interest in massaging was born. But that, too, is a story for another day.
Despite her wild fighting style, her demeanor is rather amiable, and is surprisingly passionate for things that catch her interest. She likes dressing in what others consider old fashioned clothing, for reasons unknown to anyone except Deirdre herself, and makes it a point to always be sharply dressed if she can help it. “it’s important to keep decorum,” Deirdre says in her immaculate dress, even though she’s just watching hydraulic press videos while slouching over the computer and eating Soritos on her day off.
When “another day” arrives, her story will be told.
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good mornyan sir do you have some time and words to spare regarding our prince quan's beloved wife, deirdre? how about lord sigurd's dearest, lachesis?
What alternate universe is this?
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"We make magnificent offspring my love."
Grandefel proclaimed, her eyes closed in pride, chest puffed. Deirdre snorted out a little laugh, wrapping her tail under the lion's jawline affectionately. "We do." her smile faded away quickly as she rest her chin on her partner's side. "It's a shame not many people agree.."
Grandefel huffed pensively, yellow swirls bubbling on her crown. "If it were up to me.."
"Yes, when you rule the Ether, my monarch, but alas.." Deirdre quipped, smiling against her fur. "Laugh along demon, but must I remind you The Throne has the form of a lion!" she huffed, setting her head atop her tucked paws. A still silence fell between the two for a moment.
"My point is.."
Deirdre glanced to her partner's direction as she continued her train of thought. "I'd wish we could have more of them.. I used to think maybe someday I'd train an heir, as is customary, but I didn't think I'd be so fond of.. Having a.. Family.." the angel mused softly, her eyes to the ground. Deirdre hummed. "Like your own little Pride.."
Grandefel lifted her head. "Pride..?"
"Yeah, like.. A pack of lions with the parents as the leaders. A Pride." Deirdre replied, lifting her head in turn, her eyes warm. Grandefel scoffed in awe. "A Pride! How genius of those mortals to think of such a term! Let's form our own Pride together, you and me!" her paws knead the ground with excitement, melting a little bit of Deirdre's heart. "I would really like that too.." her voice had a hint of melancholic resignation, and she lowered her head on the warm flank of her beloved.
"I could carry this time." Grandefel suggested, brushing her wispy tail across Deirdre's back bristle, leaving tiny glimmers along the black and white hair. "You could focus on the ones we already have, they're not grown up yet.." Deirdre closed her eyes.
"Focus?"
"Ykno, raise them first, then we'll see.." Deirdre said serenely, only half minding the topic. The angel's longer silence after that however made her doubtful and she half turned to face her, meeting a faceful of deeply thoughtful eyes. "Grande..?"
"It.. Occurs to me, that.. Angels, as opposed to.. Everyone else, have different concepts of raising young.." The angel's eyes half lidded wistfully. Deirdre continued to look at her, now becoming a slight bit concerned. "Only when becoming a sire myself I realised what mortals talk of in regards to parenting. It truly is.. A process, not entirely unlike mentoring, but so much more than i could've imagined. Angels are considered youth so briefly, afterall. Why pamper them beyond that? Or.. Even during.." she closed her lemon colored eyes, voice losing steam towards the end. Deirdre curled up closer, brushing her cheek bristles against the lion's crown softly. "Octurnius was a formidable mentor, but.. A subpar father. It seems that I personally, was never truly parented by him, as it were.." Grandefel hummed, not necessarily melancholic, but her voice carried some sense of loss and otherness that she'd only begun to untangle recently. Deirdre stalled her voice, looking for the words.
"You angels are weird."
Grandefel blew out a scoff, nudging her half grinning girlfriend. Deirdre nudged her back, chittering. "No but, I guess I wasn't much better off.. You could say my sister raised me, since our mother had something better to be doing than carrying two grubs all day. Ykno, like a guardian usually would.." she rolled her top pair of eyes. "And don't get me wrong, from what I've met others of our species, that's not, like, the default. Our kind of demons live in colonies or groups, not.. Duos.. Especially not from infanthood.." Deirdre reminisced, tucking her chin atop her hands. She didn't sound gravely saddened either, but the whole sentence sounded like one long sigh.
"Hmp.. I guess we're both a bit in over our heads.." Grandefel half yawned, squinting at her partner calmly. Deirdre hummed, not finding anything but an agreeing tone to reply with.
#My writing#eldritch angel#Grandefel#Deirdre#Story writing#Faq: Octurnius is the prev angelic Persecutor. Deirdre and Delilah were orphaned young#Uhh. Yeah! This was in my drafts for a few weeks
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Mayfair witches first episode review
I just got done watching the first episode of Anne Rice’s Mayfair Witches. I have to say it IS better than the Interview with the Vampire TV series in regard to faithfulness to the books.
I never really liked the characters in the Mayfair novels. I couldn’t attach myself to them the way I could Anne Rice’s vampires, especially with some of the things Rowan does in the later books, which I never could quite forgive- such as when she murdered her own Taltos child after the child had literally nursed her back to health.
As far as I can tell The Mayfair witches TV series is a lot more faithful to the boks than the Interview with the vampire TV series. Try and also keep in mind I was fourteen-years-old the last time I read The Witching Hour, Lasher, or Taltos. And twenty-one when I read Blood Canticle (the novel where Lestat and Rowan finally meet and is, frankly, the worst book in The Vampire Chronicles).
The biggest change, thus far, is the characters Aaron Lightner (of The Talamasca) and Michael Curry have been merged together. I actually don’t mind this change too much as the new character of Ciprien Grieve is interesting and compelling in his own way. I hope he survives as Rowan’s romantic interest like Michael Curry did in the novels, and doesn’t die the way Aaron Lightner died.
I know that merging Michael Michael Curry and Aaron Lightner together is a pretty big change for a lot of people but other than that it’s fairly recognizable to the original book, much more so than the Interview with the vampire series.
Considering my not-very-much attachment to the Mayfair Witch books I actually wouldn’t mind some big deviations with this one. In the books many of the characters were unlikable, incestuous, and just plain boring.
So far the new amalgam character of Ciprien Grieve is the most interesting thing since he’s also the biggest deviation. The Talamasca, thus far, though so far mysterious, is being portrayed better than it was in the Queen of the damned movie (2002) where they accidentally used the motto of The Watchers from Highlander the series (”We observe and record but never interfere”). This new show seems to remember the roots of The Talamasca where they were inspired by the real organization of the SPR / ASPR (Society for Psychical Research).
It’s not bad so far. It hasn’t reached any of the plot points yet that I disliked like the books. So far we have Rowan’s power to kill with her mind awakening, and the backstory of her biological mother, Deirdre Mayfair, which is just as tragic as I remember it being in the book The Witching Hour.
The Mayfair Emerald has a new redesign. It’s not just a heavy rectangular emerald. It’s also in a setting made to look like a large key.
It’s scary to think of poor Diedre as being doped up with Thorazine all those years in what appears to be a chemically induced version of Locked-in Syndrome.
And so far Rowan is more sympathetic than her literary counterpart. I hope it stays that way. I always thought of the character as kind of cold and selfish and a bit narcissistic in the books. And I never quite got over how in Blood Canticle she didn’t so much as show remorse for the Taltos child she murdered but instead wanted a “live specimen” to study and dissect. Lestat’s attraction to her was completely “forced.” And by that I mean it felt inorganic. The attraction had no basis in established plot or character personalities. I strongly feel it was one of those things Anne Rice later regretted as she later quietly pretended it had never happened.
Anyway, yeah, I may keep watching, if for nothing else but I kind of like the new Talamasca agent. I wonder if he’ll turn up in the Interview with the vampire TV series when the story finally catches up to modern day.
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“Hello,” the silver-haired maiden greets, passing by the Black Eagles classroom one day; it wasn’t uncommon to see professors there alone either preparing for or cleaning up after classes but this man she’d seen in here more and more often as of late.
She’s seen him with Professor Deirdre once or twice as well, and the memory of the warmth she felt from both their hearts even just in passing brings a true smile to her face as she extends a gloved hand out to the taller man.
“Professor Arvis, yes? I’ve yet to hear any of your lectures in full but I was able to catch the tail end of your talk regarding energy conservation during the use of large area spells, and am eager to learn more! I am Micaiah of Daein. A pleasure.”
Her earlier smile returns as she lets him go with a firm handshake and remarks, “I believe Professor Deirdre has spoken of you before. I am glad to see you reunited. Oh, and as excellent teachers as you both are – perhaps you might lecture together one day?”
He looks up and is surprised to see a new Black Eagle student he has never spoken with before. When he lectures, he hardly had the demeanor of someone all that approachable-- it's surprising that someone would seek him out. Regardless, he puts his papers down and gives her all of his attention -- the lecture he'd just completed was long and draining, both for himself and the students. He would welcome the distraction.
"Micaiah," he repeats, and shakes her hand in turn. At least some of these students have manners around here. His brows do raise at the mention of Deirdre, and he looks more inclined to continue speaking.
"You've had my wife as a lecturer?" he asks, his voice betraying his fondness for her. "I'm sure she's taught you a great deal, though I would be interested in lecturing alongside her..."
They would need to find a good middle ground for their grading policies, but he could be swayed. Anything for Deirdre, afterall. "May I ask what your favorite of her lectures is?"
#i will change this world for the better ✧ ic.#verge of a new era ✧ answered.#support ✧ frauleindermorgen.#arvisdeirdre#sorry this took 5 million years to answer
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