mmm thoughts of private executioner!blade, who is high priestess!kafka's bodyguard. well, more like her guard dog, as many fearfully seem to think.
he is aloof and gruff and rough around the edges, his name capturing it perfectly. when in the eyes of the public he either keeps to himself or stands ready by kafka's side, but when out he lurks in the shadows ready and waiting to carry out her death orders.
you, yourself, haven't had very many pleasant encounters with him... if you can even call them that. that being said, you haven't had many pleasant encounters with anyone. notorious for your... less than pleasant disposition, for a lack of better words, you have more people who'd rather see you run through than those you can call a friend.
in a dog-eat-dog world, you had no choice but to protect yourself. that, however, ultimately became your demise.
"oh? so you're the one sent to kill me. can't say i'm all that surprised."
standing before you is the feared executioner. his sword is tucked inside the sheath attached to his hip, that ever-present dark swirl of an aura stifling the air. he doesn't say anything, instead opting to silently stare down at your slumped and worn-out form. you find that his gaze doesn't bother you; rather, it's oddly comforting knowing someone will see you in your last moments.
"i've never asked you for a favour before, so this will be my first and last request for you." in all honesty, you're not sure where this chattiness stems from. considering you're currently in a holding cell under the crime of attempted murder towards kafka (a poisoned wine you were most definitely framed for, though you can't say you were surprised) and are awaiting for your turn to be under the guillotine for your public execution, you probably should be a little desperate towards the private executioner in front of you.
and yet, your mind is nothing if not peaceful.
with a huff, you relay your request, "can you make sure it's quick? painless, preferably, but i'd rather you just get it over and done with."
silence blankets the cold chambers. moisture accumulated along the cobble ceiling drip in a steady rhythm, like a clock ticking away the seconds. it's unnerving, almost, how there is not a single sound other than your impending countdown.
"why?" comes his low mutter, effectively causing a ripple within the stagnant air. you almost think you misheard him, but his following words cease the thought, "why won't you ask me for help?"
had it not been for the abrupt shuffle and clanging against the metal bars, you would have never looked up to see him in your last moments.
his scarred hands gripping the metal until his knuckles turn a ghastly white and blood dripping from his palms is what greets your sight. as your gaze slowly trails up, you almost let loose a laugh of disbelief; who would have thought blade, the infamous guard dog of the high priestess, could make such a desperate expression? one looking as though his whole world crumbled before him, in which he can do nothing but sit and watch.
(you will never know of the anger and desperation which coursed through his veins the moment he heard of your predicament. had it been anyone else, he wouldn't have cared. but you're not anyone else; you're you — unapologetically, wholeheartedly. it didn't take him long to hunt down those behind it, cutting them down without thought and putting an end to their miserable lives. he rushed as soon as he could when kafka gave him the order, no thoughts other than you, you, you, occupying his mind.
you will never know of the anguish which overcame him when he found you in such a state, your once healthy complexion and defiant gaze reduced to nothing but a tiredness which had always sat quietly behind your disposition. he's almost positive the muscle which unwillingly keeps him alive tore at the seems from your request, the acceptance in which you displayed causing his mind to go astray. even as he damn-near begs you to rely on him for help — to run away with him to some place no one knows of you and start anew there — you merely smile, resigned and peaceful.
you will never know of how much blade is willing to put on the line for you, for you never made it to see the complete and utter carnage he wrecked in your name.)
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It's kinda shocking to me how few people seem to know how prevalent the 'my great grandmother was cherokee' myth is and how it's almost never actually true, especially when it comes with things like 'never signed up' or 'fell off the trail' or 'courthouse burned down destorying the documentation' etc etc.
People just don't even seem to know the history like.. when the Trail happened. My great great great grandfather was 2 years old during Removal in 1838, so peoples 'my great grandmother hid in the mountains!' is so clearly wrong. And we have rolls. From before and after removal, rolls done by cherokee nation and others by the government, rolls that were not stored in one random flammable courthouse. It's not difficult to find the actual evidence of ancestry.
And just.. there are lots of ways those family stories get started. It was a practice during the confederacy to claim cherokee ancestry to show one's family had 'deep roots in the south' that they were there before the cherokee were removed. Many people pretended to be cherokee and applied for the Guion-Miller payout just to try to steal money meant for cherokees - 2/3rds of the applicants were denied for having 0 proof of actual cherokee ancestry. [We even see lawyers advertising signing up for the Miller roll just to try to get free money.] And the myth even started in some families in the cherokee land lotteries, where the land stolen from us was raffled off, including the house and everything that was left behind when the cherokees were removed. We have seen people whose families just take these things stolen from the cherokee family and adopt them into their own family story, saying that they were cherokee themselves.
If you had some family story about being cherokee and you wanna have proof one way or the other, check out this Facebook group run by expert cherokee genealogists that do research for free. Just please read the rules fully and respect the researchers. They run thousands of people's ancestries a year and their average is only around 0.7% of lines they run actually end up having true cherokee ancestry.
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"To dream the impossible dream, that is my quest." - Prince Fernando of Asturias
+ Seb not getting what he ordered
+ the usual
Hello yes, look! It's baby Renault Fernando, isn't he so cute??? Who wouldn't want to force him into an arranged marriage, like cmon man be real. Here is the progress as usual, as well as his suit without the design, cause I'm pretty proud of it just blank even!
Okay so this is pure Fernando, innocent Fernando, before he had his apirations ripped way from him. Well not fully ripped away tbf, because that's the crux of his character: is it more humiliating to never succeed or to only succeed because someone handed it to you with concessions? I guess that's up for him to decide though ;;;
The thing I love about this drawing and young Fernando in general is how much easier it is to see his and Seb's similarities. Look how similar they look! Seb is just a bit more evil.
I think that's a big part as to why his feelings about Seb are so complicated. He both loves and hates how similar they are. From an egotistical point, he can appreciate and respect the familiar traits in Seb, the hunger, the exuberance, the pride, the ego. But also we hate seeing our own traits in other people, it's almost like turning a mirror on your worst traits and suddenly being able to see yourself from a new perspective. The biggest point here though is that Fernando turns that resentment onto Seb, as a way to clamp down on self hatred.
He becomes more bitter and resentful as he grows older, and loses a lot of his whimsy and joy. So it hurts him to see Seb, who in addition to getting everything he's ever wanted, also retain his whimsy. He, wrongly, just sees it as something that had to happen in order for him to grow up fully. It's more of a survival tactic, it started becoming unbefitting for him to have that level of unfounded confidence. That's the main reason he sees Seb as childish, immature and undeserving. He hasn't fully grown out of his capacity for whimsy and joy, and thus is below Fernando.
Well that was depressing oops! As the chibi art represents, this is probably a painting Seb got sent in the early days of planning their marriage. This is the Fernando who is still prideful, the Fernando who is still confident, the Fernando Seb vaguely remembers meeting his youth. Seeing this definitely pushes him even further towards the marriage(though tbf it's not like he even has a choice either.) Though when the time to actually start courting comes around, Fernando looks very uh different. This is both a joke about how different Fernando was in his first renault stint vs his second. But also I think he does show up very moody and disheveled, as a sort of last chance way to try and turn everyone on Seb's side, including Seb, off from the marriage. However, it's pretty much a done deal by that point.
Seb is uh, definitely confused, but I think he would be drawn to Fernando regardless. Actually, this might make Fernando even more appealing. Seb gets to push him all the time, try to break down his walls and get a glimpse at the real Fernando, if even just for a moment. Seb wishes he had more that just a blurry, vague recollection of Fernando at his peak confidence. Fernando definitely grows into something resembling his past self, after recovering from all the hurt, but there's just something about youthful exuberance that can't really be fully replicated.
Okay so about the quote. I went with Don Quixote this time instead of the typical Napoleon, because I thought it'd be funny. Fernando picks up the book at some point during his youth, and it inspires him a lot. He doesn't really see the satire in it, and comes to really admire Don Quixote's mentality, he's like "wow he never gives up! That's so admirable!" It definitely helps him through dark times to aspire to never give up no matter what. Though later Seb definitely rags on him for not knowing it was satire, and Fernando is like "wh-what do you mean satire?" But he's mentally strong enough atp for it to not cause his whole worldview collapse. About the quote specifically, there's definitely some part of him, even when young, that knows his aspirations are borderline impossible. I wonder if that part of him feels weirdly safe and comforted about the marriage. Yes, it's not ideal, but it's safe and secure. He gets what he wants, and there's no chance of anyone taking it away from him, no matter what.
I think his title would be Prince of Asturias? It was either that or duke, and I think prince fits him bettee(Machiavelli reference?) That title is currently the title for the heir to the Spanish throne. In this time period, it's also commonly used for the heir, but for Fernando it's a bit unsure. Like in real life, he's not directly the offspring, but he's still the most obvious choice for heir. But there's still enough room for Seb and his house to try to vie for the throne themselves, so it makes it all complicated.
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