#riannoc
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i love getting a really amazing stupid idea, and then following it through to create nonsense
original pic
#guild wars 2#gw2#gw2 art#trahearne#riannoc#laranthir of the wild#malyck#canach#its just a draw-over but still
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memory of a lover
ao3
The Grove is vast in its bareness, the arching boughs of the Pale Tree the only established structures in the open space. Trahearne considers this now as a brother presses him, concern in his wringing hands.
“I do not wish to harm her,” he entreats. “Say I can shape my Dream, Eldest Brother, and I shall at least have your word’s security behind my sculpting hands.”
Truth be told, Trahearne has no idea what will harm their dear Mother and what will not. “Do what you will, but start small,” he advises. “Come to me if you have any hesitations at all, and I will speak with her to guide your path.”
Kahedins clutches his arm with both hands, squeezing in thanks. Trahearne watches him leave, uncertainty nibbling at his vines. But he dismisses himself with a brusque shake of his head—even with all their emptiness, there is no space in Mother’s branches for his doubt. He must lead his fellow sylvari in their endeavors, staying strong and flexible as a young tree no matter the winds that batter it.
“Another crisis averted by your leading hand,” a voice murmurs into his ear. He barely represses a shiver, turning his head to the side.
“Riannoc,” he greets as a hand cups the back of his neck. It is an easy to thing to give in, to taste the warm mouth pressing to his. It still feels new, this, despite them being joined for many months now.
“Eldest amongst us,” his lover returns, just scraping low enough to be teasing. “Have our siblings worn you out yet today?”
The casual regard for his wellbeing makes his heart swell. “Kahedins seeks only a path forward,” Trahearne defends regardless, not entirely knowing why. “If I can assist him, why shouldn’t I?”
Riannoc holds his face, worry in his brilliant eyes. “I do not wish for you to stretch yourself too thinly, dearheart,” he says. “Kahedins—or any of them—can wait until the morrow.”
Trahearne leans into the touch, although he is caught on how to feel about the words. Yes, they can all wait, but they do not have to, if he can help them. Then again, why does his soul yearn so for the rest and care his beloved provides?
“I suppose you’re right,” he acknowledges, perhaps a bit too easily. Riannoc smiles, radiant as the sun.
“Perfect,” he says. “Make no mistake—I harbour no desire to discourage our brother from his pursuits. He has even said he will shape us a house, though the Grove is already our home. Imagine that—privacy. We can do much out of sight from seeking eyes.”
This time his tone is certainly teasing. Trahearne feels himself flush. It is ludicrous how easily this man can summon such a response in him, when his role amongst them all is to retain his composure. Ludicrous, embarrassing, and a little dangerous. Riannoc probably delights in his mysterious ability.
A strong hand winds around his waist and he yelps at it, caught by its grip and surprise. Riannoc grins, his daring spiking the Dream—he has too much, more than enough for both of them and then some—and pulls him close.
“But nothing that cannot be done beneath a shadowed enough canopy,” he says.
“Rian—noc!” Trahearne pushes at him, though his indignation is spiking to something warmer. Riannoc is—he is a lot, sometimes, and he wants… things, other times, perhaps more than Trahearne would want them, but that are nonetheless thrilling. And he has a way of getting what he wants, just as he had gotten Trahearne, and speaking of having Trahearne—
Roza surfaces from the Scrying Pool with a cooling inhale, shaking the water from his head. Well. Never should anyone say that history is boring. Trahearne, seated on the pool’s lip, reaches down to help him out.
“Did all go well? You emerged rather abruptly,” he asks in concern as Roza swings his legs out of the water.
“You were about to start fucking. Thought it might be best to make my exit.”
Trahearne makes a face like he has just stepped in a mountain of griffon shit he somehow hadn’t seen directly underfoot. Roza grins at him, wringing out his braid.
“Not that the show wouldn’t have been entertaining,” he says, “But I have better things to do with my two minutes.”
Trahearne doesn’t even argue that. “Thank you for—by the Tree. There should really be some sort of censor.”
“I could feel everything you were feeling—woo!” Roza fans himself. “You definitely have a type, by the way.”
Trahearne gives him a long-suffering look. Roza chuckles and bends down to his diary on the ground to note his observations. Strong build, slightly above average height, strong grip. Woo. And a twinkle in his eye that he does not think a commemorative statue can capture.
“It is a kind thing you are doing,” he says when he has written all he can remember. “The newborn need guidance now more than ever, in this new chapter of society. Your home will give them a connection to the past that is ever more elusive.”
Trahearne shifts, always uncomfortable in the face of sincere praise. “It was not just my home,” he replies. He looks down. “Is not. He… would not have wanted it to stay empty and purposeless as it has been all these years. To turn it into a place of learning is a connection to our younger generations he never had the chance to form. I think I just did not want to share.”
Roza lays a hand on his arm. “He was very special to you,” he says in a lower voice. “I could tell. The respite he offered to someone in your position must have been so very rare and precious.”
Trahearne looks sad. “It was,” he acknowledges. “We had our disagreements, but… in the moment you just saw, he was mine alone. Then he died and became everyone else’s.”
Roza squeezes his arm. “I am sorry,” he says softly.
Trahearne swallows his sudden grief. What is it, to attack him here? Not just for Riannoc himself, but for every circumstance they were in in those early days. How could they have known how much they would lose? They barely knew how to live, and then they knew how to die.
“Thank you for agreeing to do this in my stead,” he says. “I do not know if I could have… well, you are aware.”
“Of course, darling.” Roza tips his head to the side, a gleam in his eye emerging not unlike one from thirty years past. “Do you want to stop at the Diving Pelican? The Priory?”
“As a consolation prize for knowing you nearly experienced getting skewered by my old lover firsthand?” Trahearne grumbles good-naturedly.
“As a consolation prize for perhaps never getting to do the skewering yourself, hm?” Roza bats his eyelashes. “Although you did not seem to have any issue with that.”
This is what he gets for opening the gates to the wilderness. “Let us away to the Priory,” Trahearne chooses, getting up. “I am taking advantage of your pass to the restricted section.”
“Didn’t seem terribly restricted,” Roza shoots in right before the gates close. Trahearne taps him on the tip of his pointy nose as admonishment.
“Get it out of your system before we get there,” he sighs, resigned. They wave to the gate guards as they near. They salute smartly.
Roza salutes back. “We are heading straight for the erotica,” he bargains without moving his mouth.
“Deal. But no stealing,” Trahearne returns similarly.
“We’ll see what you say when we get there.”
Which is fair. Trahearne takes his hand, and they step through the gate.
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Trahearne’s Malewife and Riannocs Babygirl have...uh...landed in Verdant Brink :)
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I don't know if I've gushed about them lately, but I love Anwen and Meryw's relationship. I don't nearly talk about them often enough so prepare for an onslaught of headcanons and snippets because Meryw's adorable and deserves all the love 💙
A good start I think is how Anwen and Meryw are foils to Riannoc and Waine.
A sylvari knight and his human squire, ending in betrayal and death. A human knight and her sylvari shield-maiden, united by undying loyalty to the ultimate victory.
(also, I'm not saying Trahearne has noticed that very early but Trahearne has noticed this very early!)
#anwen evergreen#meryw#riannoc#waine#i love mirror and foils okay? it's like basic storytelling but it fills me with endorphins!#the pic is a placeholder I have other cuter pics of meryw on the computer and Ill change it when I get home 😁💙
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Bran and Riannoc?
My friend! Thank you for dropping in!
And that is a very good question-
Bran is attracted to intelligence. He prefers someone smart, to have meaningful debates with. It makes him feel very fuzzy inside to have these kinds of talks in a domestic situation, like doing household chores.
Not doubting Riannoc's intellect, he probably would not be interested in these kinds of talks all day every day. He's a fighter, not a thinker. Of course he's not dumb, but he prefers to be more active.
And Bran prefers someone on the calmer side. The Pale Tree knows how many adventures the twins got themselves into in their youth. His brother is energetic and excitable enough for the both of them, so he prefers someone to relax with and study together.
It was not intentional but somehow this plant's ideal partner is one specific firstborn and Ri is not it
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This art of my OC, Riannoc, is from 2020 but I still really like it. I almost nailed Rian's facial features perfectly to how they are in my head BUT NOT QUITE. He needs to be a bit more baby-faced looking lol
#COSMICAEONS#aeons ocs#aeons art#riannoc#digital art#oc art#oc#original character#original character art#headshot#headshot art#he has the BUSHIEST brows i love them#big ol caterpillar brows#oc: riannoc#illustration#artists of tumblr#artists on tumblr
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Ascended Reborn: Knight of the Thorn (chapter 4)
Chapter Four: A Path Forward
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Back at Pact Base Camp, Oksuré sends Ridhais a message to meet up in Fort Trinity, then retraces her steps through Maguuma, stopping briefly at Tarir to check in with the Exalted and Glint’s egg, which, aside from having absorbed some of Mordremoth’s magic, is perfectly fine.
This, Oksuré thinks, as she stands over the egg on its pedestal, is one of the responsibilities she had prioritized over saving Trahearne. She can only hope it turns out to be something important, at least, and she hadn’t been wasting her time. She gets the feeling it is quite important, but she had thought the same every time she chose it over Trahearne and the Pact. She won’t make that mistake again.
She also stops at Rata Novus to speak with Taimi and check in on how she’s doing. She feels bad for rushing off on Taimi while she was looking for the shards, but now she listens attentively to Taimi’s updates and analyses of where Mordremoth’s magic had gone and what it was doing.
Finally she leaves to meet up with Ridhais, stopping only briefly at Camp Resolve, which is still serving as a sort of staging ground for the evacuation from Maguuma.
~oOoOo~
Back in Caer Aval, Graham bounds up to Oksuré and licks her face, which she is still short enough for him to do. Oksuré laughs and gives him some one-handed scratches behind the ears while carefully setting Caladbolg down. Ridhais approaches from the same direction Graham had come from.
“You got here first?” Oksuré asks.
Ridhais shrugs. “I’m closer. You were all the way in Maguuma.” She nods toward Caladbolg. “It looks like you made some headway with Caladbolg.”
“I did. It almost seems to want to be healed.” Oksuré offers the blade to Ridhais and then sits down next to Graham, who promptly sniffs her hair and then puts his head in her lap.
Ridhais frowns, turning Caladbolg over in her hands. "It looks healed, but the pieces are… still distinct.”
"It is still shattered in its soul," Oksuré supplies quietly. "What of the natural essence? Will that help?"
Ridhais shakes her head. "The natural essence is for restoring Caladbolg physically and replenishing its magic. I've got some, but it's certainly not going to be enough.”
Impulsively, Oksuré asks, "tell me more about Caladbolg. I only know what Trahearne told me and what I observed, which isn't very much. You mentioned needing to find a new wielder to bond to it, but then we got distracted talking about Waine."
Ridhais nods slowly. "Yes. Caladbolg is enhanced by its wielder - in this current state, it might even draw on some of the bearer's lifeforce to get itself back on its feet, so that’s the next step. Normally, though, the two would meld, mentally at least. The bearer is enhanced by the blade as much as the blade is enhanced by the bearer."
"Interesting," Oksuré murmurs, gazing at the sword. She wonders who could wield the blade next - she has a sneaking suspicion that it might be Ridhais herself, as her life and Wyld Hunt are clearly wound around the blade. But then, Caladbolg might have a different opinion, or the Pale Tree might have different criteria. "How will we find the next wielder? I'm sure it can't just be any sylvari."
"I think we already have the next wielder," Ridhais says, looking up at Oksuré.
It takes Oksuré a second to realize what Ridhais means, and her eyes widen. "Me? But I… why? I'm not even a sylvari!” Oksuré leans back on her hands. She sighs and mutters, “I have trouble enough being a human and a norn both at once, and now I add sylvari to the mix?" That’s not remotely the trouble, but Oksuré… doesn’t feel like figuring out the real trouble. She leans forward again to scratch behind Graham’s ears. It’s Trahearne, probably.
"As the…" Ridhais pauses a moment, then continues, "as the final wielder of Caladbolg before it became dormant, I believe you are already connected with the sword."
Ah… right. Oksuré’s shoulders slump. Of course not just anyone could have felt the resonances of Caladbolg's shards. And of course Caladbolg wouldn't have been dormant until its last bearer died. "Oh." And, hey, of course Caladbolg wouldn't care that she had been the one to kill its last bearer! By Kormir, it might even have agreed with Trahearne, despite obviously being affected by his death.
Oh, Spirits, why is she always the one who lives?
"Do you… not want to wield Caladbolg?" Ridhais asks, on the edge between curious and confused.
"Well…" Oksuré sighs. After a moment of sorting out her thoughts, she says, "I was thinking earlier how it wouldn't… how weird it would be to see another wielding Caladbolg. It’s Trahearne’s blade. But that’s just something I’d have to get used to. But by the same token, I wouldn't feel right using it.” She sighs again. “Not so easy to get used to. And…" And she isn’t sure she wants to.
"I understand," Ridhais says quietly. "But if I were you? I'd use it in his memory. Something to remember him by that you can keep with you." Ridhais smiles humorlessly. "You've seen the statue, but…"
"It just isn't the same,” Oksuré murmurs, eyes downcast. “He can’t be replaced.”
There is a moment of silence. "And, Commander?" Ridhais asks.
"Call me Oksuré, if you like," Oksuré tells her.
"Oksuré," Ridhais agrees quietly. "I’m not sure, but… if we can heal Caladbolg, something of Marshal Trahearne may still linger within the sword. Caladbolg's memory of him, as it remembered Riannoc."
Oksuré looks at the soul-shattered blade with a newfound interest. "It has memory? Well…” she sighs quietly. “That’s… certainly intriguing. I didn’t spend as much time with Trahearne as I should have.” That, Oksuré knows, is likely her grief talking, but she longs to know more about Trahearne. “Caladbolg did spend more time with Trahearne than anyone else did,” she murmurs. All his knowledge, all his research, the years of his life… gone. Oksuré glances up at Ridhais. “You come a close second, though."
Ridhais nods quietly. "I did.” Then, understanding the implied question, goes on; “he understood the call of the Wyld Hunt as very few others did… and that protecting somebody was a goal without a definite end. He said that at least he had a goal to work toward. He always had an encouraging word for others, even when he thought his own task was hopeless."
Oksuré smiles. "Yes. He did complete his in the end… and you have the same opportunity."
Ridhais nods. "I don't think he would have been able to without Caladbolg. Cleansing anything takes a lot of power, but the whole island-continent of Orr… he told me once that Caladbolg took most of the magical drain on itself. Most foci draw from the wielder, but Caladbolg draws from the Pale Tree through the Dream. But Marshal Trahearne was still too drained afterward to join the last battle against Zhaitan. "
"Was she alright after the cleansing?" Oksuré asks.
Ridhais shrugs. "I don't know - and even if she was drained, it would be a happy cause. Not at all like when the Shadow of the Dragon attacked her. Even if it was a neutral cause, if Caladbolg was interested in it, so would its bearer."
"How so?" Oksuré queries.
"Well, it amplifies the mental state of the one bonded to it," Ridhais explains. "Marshal Trahearne described it as an intensification of thoughts - the sword brings out your emotions and impulses. For a legend like the Marshal, it enhanced his existing noble qualities."
"Interesting," Oksuré notes. "I wonder if that helped against Mordremoth?"
"We'll never know," Ridhais tells her sadly. "Caladbolg can hold memory and have interest, it can draw power and mentally meld with the wielder, but it is not sentient."
"I don't know," Oksuré says doubtfully. "It seems… I don't know. I suppose 'interest' could describe… I mean, it seems to have desires. It wants to be healed. I put the pieces together like a puzzle, and it physically healed on its own."
Ridhais glances at the blade interestedly. "That's curious, although I suppose as halfway aware and capable as it is, it would want to be healed. It may be drawing on a subconscious desire of your own, or even an echo of Marshal Trahearne. I know he would never want the blade to remain broken."
Oksuré nods slowly. "That makes sense.” She sighs and shakes her head. “It doesn't matter. I think Mordremoth's influence is what broke its soul - do you think Caladbolg has enough of a mind to be affected?"
Ridhais shrugs. "I don't know. It is quite possible, and indeed probable, but we can't know for certain. At least not yet - this we might get an answer for when it is healed."
Oksuré nods. "Alright. If Caladbolg is operating on Trahearne's desire… this may be more of a last wish than his own death was." She laughs humorlessly as she rises from the floor. Graham whines at her and she gives him a pat on the head.
"If I may, Comm - Oksuré," Ridhais says hesitantly, "could I ask what you thought of Marshal Trahearne?"
Oksuré sits back down and Graham plops his head back into her lap. Oksuré sighs. "He was… a dear friend. I… he was an inspiration, and I admired him greatly. We couldn't have slain either dragon without him. He might not've been present for the final assault on Arah, but he led the Pact to victory as surely as I struck the killing blow to Zhaitan. He might not've been particularly active on the battlefield, but when he was, he was astounding. And it wasn't all Caladbolg, either."
"Certainly not," Ridhais agrees.
"In addition…" Oksuré sighs again. "I don't know if I could have made it this far without him. After Tonn died and Ceera accused me of being responsible, Trahearne explained how every day he gave orders, orders that inevitably wound up in death for at least some of the Pact, and he had to deal with it. He helped me a lot with that, and in other ways."
“He had a healing spirit,” Ridhais agrees softly.
After a moment of silence, Oksuré says, "after he completed his Wyld Hunt, he said he needed to redefine himself. Before we went after Zhaitan, he told me the Pact would be behind me in that all the way. I don't think he'd really seen it that way before, his focus had all been on his Wyld Hunt. But then he was interested, and he really got absorbed in his role as Marshal. He redefined himself as the Pact's Marshal, Ridhais."
Ridhais nods. "That he did. I saw it too - I was with him while you were fighting Scarlet's forces. He'd stepped up to his role even more than before - if that were possible - and was driving the research on Kralkatorrik. Then Mordremoth came and changed all our plans."
Oksuré smiles. "Yes. If there was one word I'd use to describe Trahearne, it'd be 'dedicated.' He's driven. He picks one thing, and he does it. No matter what. He said once, about his Wyld Hunt, that he didn't fear death, he feared failure. Cleansing Orr took a lot out of him, but I don't think he'd have minded if it killed him, so long as it was done. I think that translated into his other pursuits afterward."
Ridhais nods. "He never put it in those words to me, but I got that general sense from him, especially afterward."
"True," Oksuré says. "You know, his first question when I came to rescue him was about the Pact? He said 'Commander' in greeting, but it was more of a… grabbing for a lifeline. 'Commander… the Pact…' he needed to know. First question! In his condition! I wouldn't be surprised if he knew already he was going to die, or at least suspected it."
"That might be why," Ridhais points out. "Maybe he had to make sure the Pact was alright before he died."
"That makes sense," Oksuré agrees. "I'm afraid I didn't do a good job reassuring him - or maybe I did. I told him it was all but gone, but that I and my team would kill Mordremoth. I think he knew I'd get the Pact back on its feet. I think he needs me to lead to the Pact, to finish what he couldn't. Or something like that. Carry on his legacy and all." She sighs, closing her eyes. “I mean… it’s the least I can do, after… what happened.”
“I’m sure you’ll do fine, Oksuré,” Ridhais tells her gently. “And I know Trahearne would agree.”
Oksuré opens an eye and peeks at Ridhais. “How did you know I was the one who… last wielded Caladbolg?”
“Caithe told me,” Ridhais says simply. “It’s not just the Pact that was injured by his death. The sylvari… well, you saw the statue. It’s a trying time for everyone. I don’t think the Pact will complain if you succeed him as Marshal, even if you are technically still a member of an Order. They need some hope.”
Oksuré sighs. That is part of the point. She’d killed him. “I don’t know how I can do it. Lead the Pact, that is. I was trained by the best, but… I don’t think I can be as inspiring as he was. I’m a warrior, not a leader.” That much is true. She'd be a poor substitute for Trahearne any day, much less after failing so miserably in Maguuma.
"You’re already a symbol to a lot of people, Oksuré,” Ridhais tells her. “You’ve done the impossible several times now. To lead, I think, you just have to believe in the cause. Your own enthusiasm will be inspiring. Trahearne was quiet, but he cared. He might not've shouted the way Almorra does, but he was just as inspirational, because he cared. And you could see it."
"Deep thoughts, Ridhais," Oksuré notes sincerely. It’s good advice. She might have to use it. She wishes she didn’t have to. "You know, I think you're a lot like Trahearne."
"You do?" Ridhais asks, startled.
"Yeah," Oksuré nods. "You have his determination. His focus.”
"I… I'm honored," Ridhais says quietly.
“I mean it,” Oksuré says, staring down at Graham’s head, guilt twisting in her heart. She isn’t the only one who’d been close to Trahearne. She’s not the only one his death had affected. Trahearne is not the only person her actions had harmed. And now she needs to pick up his weapon and lead his people? She isn’t worthy. She doesn’t want to. She isn’t sure if she can face everyone and pretend it’s alright, that she can replace Trahearne, when he can’t be replaced. When it’s her fault he’s dead in the first place.
But what else can she do? She can’t walk away from the fight against the Elder Dragons. She needs something to do. She needs to keep moving, doing something. This is the only path, the only ‘beginning’ that is open to her. It may be that death is not the end… but possibly the end of the beginning. Whatever it is the beginning of, she hates it if it requires Trahearne’s death. But she can’t reject her one and only path forward.
And at least she’ll be in good company, with Ridhais and the others who hold his memory. She won’t be alone.
She sighs, then gives Graham a pat on the head and a nudge with her knee. He huffs at her, but he moves off her lap and allows her to get up. “Let’s get moving,” Oksuré tells Ridhais. “Let’s split up to find that natural essence.”
"Actually," Ridhais says, "I wasn't expecting Caladbolg to reforge itself physically on its own. We should attune you to the blade quickly, so it can start really healing."
"We can do that without it being fully physically…whole?" Oksuré asks in surprise.
"Oh, yes," Ridhais nods. "We just need the Vision Crystal. You might feel weaker in general for a few days as it draws on your strength, but nothing debilitating."
Oksuré nods, suddenly nervous about attuning to Caladbolg - claiming ownership, or something, on a blade that is Trahearne's. She’ll probably never think of it as hers, but that is just as well. She doesn’t deserve to. "So how do we do this?"
"We'll need to go through its first bearer - the person it knew first," Ridhais explains. "Firstborn Riannoc is dead, but his grave should give us the connection we need, especially since the grave was planted where he died. Having been the weapon of a necromancer for so long, Caladbolg shouldn't have much trouble connecting to it."
“Where is the grave?”
"Lychcroft Mere. You know the place? It's Krytan."
"Yes. I led a Vigil mission in that swamp once. It was infested with Risen. Is that what killed Riannoc?"
"Riannoc fought Risen, yes, and the lich Mazdak, but I would guess the ones you fought weren’t the same group or even the same swarm," Ridhais tells her. "Meet me there with Caladbolg, and I'll carry out the ritual.”
Oksuré nods. "See you there." Ridhais disappears in the familiar puff of blue as she waypoints to Shadowheart Site. Oksuré follows a moment later. Ridhais is a lot like Trahearne. She's knowledgeable and confident. Oksuré can trust Ridhais to give her direction when she doesn't have the strength to step forward on her own.
~oOoOo~
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#trahearne#ridhais#tiffany oksuré#caladbolg#knight of the thorn#sylvari#riannoc#orr#zhaitan#mordremoth#wyld hunt#the pact#tonn#ceera#risen#gw2#ascended reborn
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Been working on personal story with sweet Randyl
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no context snippet from the commander riannoc au
#original#my writing#canach deciding which he hates more: capitalism or the firstborn#slaps cmdr riannoc au. this bad boy can fit so many self indulgences
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ah yes. me, my boyfriend, and his living, sentient sword
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thinking about commander idris' relationship with trahearne
i feel like commander idris would have heavily looked up to trahearne, as a powerful necromancer and someone knowledgeable on orr, and would have treasured working alongside him.
in amongst the long hours of tactical meetings and information-sharing, idris developed feelings for trahearne, but not really identified them beyond strong friendship + allyship. maybe he was on the cusp of realising, and then... mordremoth
after having to kill trahearne, idris buried those feelings deep and refused to look at them or acknowledge them. easy enough given the various other crises he was swept into
it's only when he gets the letter about trahearne's memorial that he finds himself feeling again. even moreso when he begins to restore caladbolg, finally culminating when he meets trahearne face-to-face once more.
there's not even a confession, exactly, just an acknowledgement of what could have been. a soft kiss, ephemeral, and then back to the real world. a sense of grief and closure all at once
#he'd also have complicated feelings about meeting riannoc there#because idris goes -- dreams of his death then lives through his death then meets him#honestly that might help ease idris' terror of death -- although since he's died once at this point anyway maybe not#idris
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I MANAGED TO BUG IT WITH AVIATOR'S Y E S
#riannoc's babygirl#the thingsi make trahearne deal w/#from now on im opening chests on him#my screenshots
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quick visual for what my firstborn, sohiel's, face looks like!! after riannoc's death he went to the ends of the mists to bring him back, and he did...but not in the way he would have wanted. he's cursed with the face of his lover, flickering between every few seconds. as such, he wears a mask when around others and has told not a soul what really happened when he ventured to the bounds of reality. more of his lore here!
#yes i did steal one of my fr dragon's names again#gw2#guild wars 2#sylvari#i feel like im gonna have a slight obsession with him dfgh#he is not the nicest guy anymore </3
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saw this tag game and wanted to spread! :>
tagging: @herald-of-aurene, @echowilds, @moonlit-grove, @mistreaders-requiem, @mistrall-art, @averagebreadslice, @phantasmalduelist, @commanderthalys, @archesa
-- B A S I C S
name: alysannyra ainsaf/ainsaph
nicknames: lyss, alyssa, nyra
age: 19 in PS, 30 in SotO
birthday: 10th zephyr (10th of january)
race: ascalonian human
gender: female (she/her)
orientation: bisexual
profession: warmaster of the vigil, commander, dragon champion, wayfinder (she really dislikes it and prefers commander, as she is one still in my canon! she rejoins the pact in season 4 <3)
-- P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S
hair: golden brown
eyes: originally blue, turned pale purple
skin: pale, yellow undertone
tattoos/scars: burn scars on her arms and legs, claw mark on her right breast, and many more
-- F A M I L Y
parents: antonia ainsaf née gwent (living), william ainsaf (living)
siblings: deborah ainsaf (living), leyiton ainsaf (living)
grandparents: eldon ainsaf (living)
in laws and others: trahearne (husband), lord faren (fiancé), aurene (daughter), considers braham her brother + deborah's kids who are her nieces and nephews
pets: riannoc the cat + 11 others
-- S K I L L S
abilities: guardian (ability to shape light, dragonhunter/firebrand mix)
hobbies: translation, literary theory, learning languages, learning new combat techniques, working out in general, strategy, chess, weapon collecting
-- T R A I T S
most positive trait: charismatic, decisive, protective, confident, self-assured, ambitious, leadership material
most negative trait: has a god complex, stubborn, thinks her way is the best, proud, ambitious, leadership material
-- L I K E S
colors: blue, white, silver
smells: alcohol from wound cleaning, chocolate, roasted meat
textures: scar tissue, velvet
drinks: coffee, herbal tea, sour krytan wine
-- O T H E R D E T A I L S
smokes: no
drinks: formerly yes, nowadays mostly no. sometimes, but in minimal quantities
drugs: no
been arrested: yes
#gw2#tag game#alysannyra#gw2 commander#gw2 oc#let's spread a cool ask game#all fandoms apply but gw2 too#guild wars 2
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my number one piece of gw2 oc creation advice is if you have a sylvari, give them a human to form a weird codependent relationship with. same thing in reverse if you have a human
it's a formula as old as the sylvari themself with riannoc and waine, and it works flawlessly i do this with all of my characters
#trammander shippers with human commanders already know this#human commanders also get it with caithe#i really do this with everyone‚ annette and saraid‚ amaranth and ailbe‚ seung and lily#gw2#i don't know what it is the vibe is just so good#i can't believe i forgot to mention annette and armillaria‚ and ganymede (partner oc) and coira#beatrice is my only sylvari that's not paired up with- nevermind she has marjory
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