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obesogen · 2 months

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You introduce yourself to someone

"Hi, so-and-so, I'm ..." and you think that you say your name,

but your plump hands, slightly sweaty,

and your swollen forearms, encroaching on small wrists,

your upper arms role-poly like the Michelin man,

and your wide, sloppy, drooping gut,

which is in theory fully covered by a shirt

barely tho;

your deep, wide belly button visible through thin fabric, stretched taut, 12x getting too small,

and let's not forget your double chin,

your soft pillowy neck roll,

your dewlap, a perfectly closed collar of squishy fat that

your tiny features sink into–

these things say

hi so-and-so,

i'm super obese, morbidly obese, obese class III,

i'm permanently disabled by how fat i have become

i'm the fattest person you have ever had to speak to

i'm the fattest person you have ever seen in person

and not on the tv freak show

hi so and so, i'm severely mentally ill

hi so and so, i'm traumatized

hi so and so, i am addicted to food

hi so and so, i have no impulse control

hi so and so, i'm ... what's your name again?

you are no one, nothing,

all you are and all you can ever be is gloriously obese beyond the frenzied imaginings of our starving ancestors who carved the venus of willendorf

you are stuffed to the point of near-bursting; even the backs of your neck rolls are frosted with stretch marks. the body always finds somewhere to store fat, and with all the usual spots so filled to the brim, you notice eventually even your forehead is fat; a deposit of soft tissue that furrows above your brows, like a sharpei.

Not long after you got a second mobility aid for out in public, a powerchair with a capaciity of 1100 pounds and hydraulic suspension and tread on its 8 tires like a tank, you started using your old one around the house, always on the verge of breaking down under the additional 200 pounds you carry beyond its rated 500 pound capacity. Not long after, unthinkingly, you just stopped walking, out of sheer bone-idleness. You couldn't say when your last day on your feet was, you surrendered sooner than that day came, comfortably dependent.

Months later, you dimly attempt to recall when you last moved, standing, from one point in space to another. Until the last month, you could still, barely, haul yourself up using a bar to support and balance yourself. From being pushed up out of your powerchair with a forward lift, to the belly gathering momentum and sliding down, to you standing shakily and taking one shuffling step to reposition your body so you can transfer from one big chair to another big chair, and from one big chair to the big motorized bariatric hospital bed.

Now, just 20 pounds later, you can't move your blob body hardly at all below your greedy mouth with its greasy, parted, mouthbreathing lips and beyond your wriggling sausage link fingers. You cannot move any other part of your body without needing help. You are not to your knowledge paralyzed really in any way, you just shamelessly became too fat to lift your own arms, you press a button on a remote that must be attached to your fat hand since if you drop it you couldn't even retrieve it with a string, you are just that weak– so thoroughly inhabiting how obese you are through the total abdication of all decisions.

Once the support bar began to gather dust and was eventually packed away- you become adjusted to transfering from place to place using motorized cranes and winches, your fat slab form filling huge slings with tough straps, prone and helpless, drowning beneath countless rolls, lovingly oiled machinery creaking as it hefts your megafat body.

Your muscles are so weak and your limbs are so heavy. You still have the urge to to struggle and sweat to lift another treat to your bottomless pit of a stomach. You are estimated to be able to hold several gallons in there before feeling sick from fullness.

Most days you simply lie expectantly and grunt with your mouth open, eating everything you are given by any of your staff or acolytes, and sucking melted ice cream sludge from one tube, or chugging diet coke or (regular) mountain dew from 2 different (fountain) tubes.

Turns out there's more than irony to research suggesting artificial sweeteners like aspartame provoke intense cravings for actual sugar.

You are fat beyond reason. Only the most depraved massive, disabling, immobilizing obesity fetishists could find your tremendous doughy body, with a belly so outsized you must be buckled into powerchairs and scooters and even the shower chair. If you don't endure the humiliation of being buckled into the modern day litter which drags your fat around, your unwieldy pannus threatens to upset your vehicle, tipping you forward and pulling you down– you know you would be left on the floor gasping, unable to even sit up, defenseless, amorphous.

And besides,

you forgot your name anyway

years ago,

dont you remember? my

pitiful

swollen

hog.

#obesogen blog: stimulant fueled obesity gooning #death feedee #death feederism #extremely obese #obese piggy #death feedist #glorify obesity #wg text

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troutfur · 11 months

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On Honoring Mothers and Grandmothers: Matrilineal triple naming in Pfurr Clanmew.

A Clan cat's name is as much a living thing as the cat that bears it. From birth to death it grows and changes, becoming a record of a cat's history. Life stages, accomplishments, shames, and in Pfurr Clanmew even a cat's very origins are recorded in it.

A typical Pfurr Clanmew name consists of three parts, a personal name, the name of one's wipfurr (roughly mother), and the name of one's awi (roughly maternal grandmother). Though typically only one's personal name is used conversationally, in more formal situations such as ceremonies, Clan meetings, and first introductions the use of the full form is much more common.

It also serves an eminently practical purpose in reminding cats of their common ancestors up to two generations back. That is essential information when one is seeking a mate.

As an example, let's look at the following case:

The ThunderClan warrior Hollytuft has the full-form name of Waskraofa-ye-Keyababun-en-Urramswash, Hollytuft from Cinderheart of Sorreltail. Her wipfurr in turn bore the name Keyababun-ye-Urramswash-en-Sawaborrl, Cinderheart from Sorreltail of Willowpelt. Thus while her name only encodes historical memory two generations back, with her mother around she's capable to track a generation further back.

Her Pipfurrs (fathers, roughly) bore the following full names; Raorgabrrlrr-ye-Pishkafsheef-en-Kafyarshai, Lionblaze from Squirrelflight of Firestar; Liafihess-ye-Urramswash-en-Sawaborrl, Poppyfrost from Sorreltail of Willowpelt; and Lepechoop-en-Bayysi, Berrynose from Daisy.

Immediately one may notice that the third pipfurr does not have all three names! That is because as a barn cat, Berrynose's wipfurr had no knowledge of her own wipfurr's name, thus no second name to pass down as her son's third name. She's known as plain old Bayysi, the transliteration of the English name Daisy which she was known by at the barn.

This is very similar to how Lionblaze's own awi was known only as Kafyarshai, Firestar. Thus the full name of his daughter, Lionblaze's wipfurr, was only Pishkafsheef-ye-Kafyarshai, Squirrelflight from Firestar. This naming custom marks outsiders joining one generation down, not uncoincidentally reinforcing an attitude within the Clans that full integration can only come over the span of two generations.

Hollytuft's siblings from her pipfurr Poppyfrost carry the names Bosgohussk-ye-Liafihess-en-Urramswash and Obeofe-ye-Liafihess-en-Urramswash, Molewhisker from Poppyfrost of Sorreltail and Cherryfall from Poppyfrost of Sorreltail. Had Poppyfrost and Cinderheart not remained part of the same pfurr, making them instead rabir (cousins) to Hollytuft, their second and third names would serve as a reminder of both their common origin and of the relation between their wipfurr.

It is pretty unusual to see a cat carrying a pipfurr-line name but it does ocassionally happen, more often than not as part of a dishonor title. A prime example would be Gaorkach-ye-Besbabun-en-Byochshai, Tigerclaw from Pineheart of Oakstar, who was renamed upon being exiled. His former name was Gaorckach-ye-Saorpwyyarr-en-Rruqaneep, Tigerclaw from Leopardfoot of Sweetbriar, a name which he refused to let go of and which he eventually carried into his self-given leader name of Gaorshai-ye-Saorpwyyarr-en-Rruqaneep, Tigerstar from Leopardfoot of Sweetbriar.

A cat may very well elect to wear a pipfurr-line name as a badge of pride however! An example from recent memory would be the RiverClan leader Gawgloonshai-ye-Ekshbabun-en-Lubroffaws, Crookedstar from Shellheart of Blackbee, after his pipfurr and his pipfurr's wipfurr. The name was adopted in recognition of the abdication of responsibility his wipfurr took in raising him after the accident that gave him his iconic twisted jaw and how his primary pipfurr stepped up to fill the role as best he could.

Another example, although only temporary and which has become a bit of a stain in the cats in question's history would be Raorgabrrlrr-ye-Bayabkach-en-Rreenponma and Arkrbufr-ye-Bayabkach-en-Rreenponma, Lionblaze from Brambleclaw of Goldenflower and Jayfeather from Brambleclaw of Goldenflower. (Or to those affiliated with the Dark Forest: Raorgabrrlrr-ye-Bayabkach-en-Gaorshai and Arkrbufr-ye-Bayabkach-en-Gaorshai, Lionblaze from Brambleclaw of Tigerstar and Jayfeather from Brambleclaw of Tigerstar.) These names, self-adopted in defiance to calls for branding them with the name of their biological mother, symbolized their total rejection of their awi, the role in the Prophecy of the Three, and their push to associate more with their kin on their pipfurr's side.

#warrior cats #wc #warrior cats au #sibling bonds rewrite #clanmew #pfurr clanmew #Hollytuft #Cinderheart #Poppyfrost #Lionblaze #Fireheart #Firestar #Daisy wc #Squirrelflight #Tigerclaw #Tigerstar #Jayfeather #Crookedstar #Shellfur

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novaharpersworld · 1 month

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Worldbuilding Insturi

Insturi is the name given to the kingdom of the Fae. It controls slightly less than half the continent of Numaria, and its power is nearly the rival of Soljoro, the human republic, with a population of about 25 million. It was monarchy governed by the dynasty of the River Kings.

Historically, Insturi was the name given to the first civilization built on Numaria, far outstripping human civilization, but it fell at the end of the 2nd Epoch, and is known by the Fae as Insturi-that-was, and they hoped for Insturi-to-come. The human dynasty of the Tols rose, overthrew the Fae, took their territory, and enslaved them, building the empire of Nulor.

The 3rd Epoch, or the Dominion of the Fellwraith, was a turbulent span of roughly twelve thousand years (divided into 12 Ages). Nulor stood until the dawn of the 4th age of the 3rd Epoch, at which time a Faen rebellion toppled the empire and sent the Tols into exile in the Northfelds, enslaving humanity in revenge. Neither side held definitive power in the 4th age of the 3rd Epoch, each overthrowing the other in a series of reversals called the Eighty Years War, which the Tols eventually won and re-established Nulor, sending the Fae back into slavery.

For the next three thousand years the Fellwraith manipulated their mutual hatreds to its own advantage. It knew if they united against it, they had the power to destroy the Fellwraith, so it kept them divided by cultivating their prejudices against one another.

But the 12th Hero, a slave boy who became Tol Aranon, defeated the Fellwraith and united the peoples of Numaria against it, in its island fortress of Arazywn, liberated all creation from the Fellwraith's curse, and changed the very laws of magic, resetting them after millennia of the Fellwraith"s distortions.

Tol Aranon authored the Illian Accords, which ceded half of the continent to the Fae to rebuild Instruri, established the Long Peace, dissolved the Nulorian empire and reorganized it into the Nulorian Republic, drafting the Charter of Rights, abolishing slavery in perpetuity, and then abdicated the throne without a known heir and vanished before his death so there could be no attempt to restore the monarchy. The plan nearly worked, but Tol Aranon had neglected to revoke the titles of nobility, and after four hundred years they attempted a coup that was only barely put down at the end of the Wars of the Merchant Kings. Their titles of nobility were formally revoked upon their defeat and the last vestige of the old empire was at last abolished. The Republic was renamed Soljoro to recognize this clean break with its imperial past.

The Long Peace lasted for 916 years before the start of the series, despite some times of crisis. Insturi was reestablished as a monarchy, the line of the River Kings restored, and their civilization growing to rival and threatening to surpass Soljoro. Everyone knows a conflict is coming when Soljoro and Insturi reach continental parity. A triumphalist nationalism is growing in both nations, each of which claim the whole continent for their respective nations.

Insturi is governed by a small elite of Fae who can trace their lineage back to the twelve clans that founded Insturi-that-was. Fae are longaevii, the Long Lived, so their population grows very slowly. But millennia created a large number of part-Fae part humans. These half-Fae make up most of the population and are mostly worker class. While periodic efforts have been undertaken to reduce the classism of the Faen elite toward the people, they have always been half-hearted attempts and largely failed. A peasant nationalism is sweeping through the Faen lower classes, who are furious about being second class citizens and dealing with the human prejudices as well.

While Soljoro has moved in the direction of steam/ether clockwork Majtech, the Fae have always had a more organic relationship with nature, using natural magic like wind and water to power their tech. Their architecture shapes itself around existing nature rather than destroy it to build, their design models for homes and aircraft utilizing natural structures like spider webbing, and tree/plant structures.

The River King governs from Illian, Insturi's capitol, in the River Palace, which is built of crystal cut into water, tree, and root designs. They don't use airships, but instead use organitech bioships which are partially sentient. The Fae pilot in cooperation with their ships rather than controlling inanimate Majtech like humans. Their predominant class of air vessel is the Windskiff.

The River King is advised by the Advisory Conclave, a council of seven members from the old elite families, who also serve as the Bench, a high court that resolved questions of legality for everyone below themselves in rank. The River King can override their decisions if necessary, but usually is involved in the hearing of cases.

#writers on tumblr #writeblr #steampunk #fantasy #creative writing #worldbuilding

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royalmedani · 1 year

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Author’s Notes below the cut TW: Terrorism, bigotry (LGBTQ specific), societal violence, death, and grief. Also a little rambly as often my worldbuilding notes are...

Since I didn’t make room to have a full fake article about this event I thought I’d expand on it a bit here. I’ve mentioned the Bombing At the Decks event a few times in passing but this is a very important moment in the history of the isles because of the sheer scale of how many people were killed in the incident.

The Decks is the name of the former building that housed the Viridi Parliament. There are three representatives from each Comiterra. Viridis has 15 of these administrative districts and since there was a mandatory session on that day at MINIMUM the building contained these 45 people and their necessary staff. However as this vote was incredibly important - they were doing a massive overhaul of the inheritance laws to allow adopted and “unclaimed” (bastards) children from families to be legally recognized by their families as heirs - there were a lot of media, spectators, and dignitaries (like Princess Sancha of Apricus) in attendance to voice their support for these changes. Honestly Viridis is kind of the last island to do anything progressive most of the time so there was a lot of positive energy around the event. That being said, this ruling was particularly relevant to the Viridi royal family at the time because their proclaimed heir, Thea was/is gay and the despite the fact that she gave birth to her daughter, the state didn’t recognize her as an heir because her birth was not “natural.”

Anyway, the vote went off fine because the organization that orchestrated the attack did want this to happen. We’ll talk more about their goals when we meet their members down the road but the short is they timed the attack so the bombs went off just after the changes were confirmed because they benefited directly. The thought was that since it was clear they were supportive of the changes they wouldn’t be the focus of the follow up investigations but we’ll just say they misjudged some elements of their plan and were caught.

In the meantime though the resulting bloodbath is considered one of the darkest times in Viridi history. The few Comi that survived the attack were pegged as accomplices and hunted down and ceremonially drowned in the ocean by angry members of families that lost their loved ones. The royal family itself was impacted quite dramatically since whole branches of the family were present to support their heir and her child. Only five major members of the core royal house survived:

Prince Bastian, who was very unwell at the time and bed ridden. News of the event crushed him and he didn’t recover from his illness dying just a few days after the event. To be fair, he was VERY, VERY old. He’d been on the throne for like 70 years.

Doma Thea, who upon hearing that the ruling would not go into effect until the generation after her daughter, was furious and boycotted the vote with her wife. Unfortunately her daughter, who wanted it to go through for her own personal reasons, did attend and died in the event. Her guilt and rage over this led to her eventual abdication in favor of her niece Estra. She blamed the noble class as a whole for not being more accepting and “Would not be able to effectively guide people who do not respect me or my family.”

High Sister Neva, Estra’s older sister (seen singing the mourning song in this shot). She had taken Temple a couple years before and was serving as a Singing Sister at the Sky Spire on the border of Fideli and Apricus at the time.

Doma Estara, (aka Estra, the current Princess) she had wanted to attend but her father talked her out of it saying that she should be with her children that night since she had only really recently given birth to Zarina and had a difficult relationship already with her oldest child Poppy.

Dom Julian, Estra and Neva’s younger brother. He was attending uni abroad, which is pretty common for the family, and was discouraged from coming home for the vote cause “we have enough support, you focus on your studies.”

A handful of children from Bastian’s “unclaimed lines” also survived but they are not in the pool of succession and do not get a lot of attention from the press.

So anyway to wrap up this whole thing, processions and parades are a BIG cultural thing in the isles. So every year for the last 15 years or so (once things calmed down after the attack), Princess Estra has led a memorial walk from the New House (the royal palace in the capitol) to the former location of The Decks. Once they arrive she lights a big bonfire and they have a special communal mourning song together led by a high ranking member of the priesthood.

#ts4 #the sims 4 #ts4 royal simblr #ts4RoyalMedani #RoyalMedaniS2 #RMedaniMediaPosts #SIPerioculos #HighSisterNeva #EstraNovari #EsaiMedani #SIWorldbuilding #ramble ramble ramble #ViridiRoyalFamily #SIW:Viridis

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cahir-cathere · 2 years

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A timeline for Fringilla

I am going to preface this by saying that trying to sort out the timeline for any Witcher media is an absolute disaster-- there's a ton of conflicting information! Because this is show based, I'm using Netflix's established timeline-- which can be found here-- however for supporting information I will be referencing back to the books and games.

Anything in green is either canon or highly likely; anything in blue is a little more conjectural in nature. I've also included an estimate for Fringilla's age in parenthesis () next to the dates.

ca. 1190: Fringilla born.

As per the Netflix timeline, Yen was born in 1192, and as she and Fringilla were in the same class, presumably they are around the same age. I like to think that Fringilla is a few years older, as this explains her feelings of inferiority as Yen starts to excel.

1206: Education at Aretuza begins. (~16)

Again, this is based on Netflix's stated timeline.

1210: Graduation from Aretuza; assigned to Nilfgaard. (~20)

The series describes Fergus as being both "effective" and easily suggestible-- a very accurate assessment. Over the course of his reign (as we'll see below), Fergus did accomplish many military victories, but he didn't lead with a steady hand. He was over-reliant on the expertise of others, vindictive, and uncaring. For the Brotherhood to have any influence at all in Nilfgaard, the court mage assigned there would have to have been very assertive... which, we know Fringilla wasn't in her youth. Instead, Nilfgaard's generals had the king's ear.

1216: Nilfgaard invades *Etoloa (~26)

With Fergus relying on support from Nilfgaard's military instead of its mages, its expansion continued. In 1216, it invaded and utterly decimated the kingdom of Etoloa in a particularly brutal war that left the region devastated. Fergus made an example of Etoloa-- a message that was received, as the nearby kingdom of Vicovaro, knowing they would be next, elected to willingly join the Nilfgaardian empire soon after.

*(Etoloa is spelled as Etolia in the role playing games, however it appears written as Etoloa on the maps used for the Netflix series, so that's the spelling I'm using.)

1226: Nilfgaard invades Gemmera (~36)

Next, Nilfgaard set its eyes on Gemmera, one of the largest producers of dimeritium in the south. With the support of its two newest provinces, Etoloa and Vicovaro, Nilfgaard invaded, and won itself even more land.

1228: Unrest and political dissent intensify (~38)

Fergus's warmongering was not universally popular, especially if his victories came at the cost of regular citizens' quality of life, which seems likely given what we know about him previously wasting the kingdom's money "while his people starve[d] to death" (S1E3). Philosopher Vysogota or Corvo wrote a scathing manifesto railing against Fergus and his government, and sparked a potential uprising as grievances were aired. Fergus responded by convicting Vysogota and his supporters of treason, executing those who didn't flee.

1237: Fergus is deposed; Emhyr forced to flee (~47)

Eventually, Fergus's over-reliance on the military came back to bite him, as one of his own generals staged a coup, with the support of several aristocrats.

(The Usurper's name and identity are never confirmed in the books; the detail about him being one of Emhyr's generals comes from Gwent/the RPG.)

At first, the Usurper tried to force Fergus into willingly abdicating by torturing his son Emhyr, but Fergus refused. Instead, the Usurper had his mages curse Emhyr, and he took the throne by force, killing Fergus.

ca. 1245 - 1249: Fringilla is imprisoned (~55-59)

Now, we're getting into truly speculative territory here. We know that sometime after the Usurper's ascension, he started imprisoning mages, but I think that Fringilla avoided this fate, at least for a little while. In the books, she mentions briefly meeting Cahir when he was around seven, which would imply that she managed to stay free a few years after the takeover. We don't have an official year of birth for Cahir, but in Time of Contempt (which is set in 1267) Geralt estimates that he's "no older than 25", which would put him as being born around 1242. However, the Netflix series has condensed the book timeline considerably, so it's possible that as a result they intended for Cahir to be around 25 at the start of the series, in 1263, which would put his birth year closer to 1238. This gives us a timespan from 1245-1249 for this meeting to take place.

Now, all that we really know for certain is that Fringilla was imprisoned before Emhyr's return in 1257-- we don't know exactly how long she was trapped in the playhouse. She says that she was there for "years" (S2E2), and I personally think that a 8-11 year span of time would track well with Fringilla's attitude in the present. To me, she seems out-of-step with her surroundings and her place in the world, which would make sense if she spent almost an entire decade imprisoned.

1257: Emhyr returns and ousts the Usurper; Fringilla freed (~67)

Per Fringilla and Cahir's conversation in S2E6, she was still imprisoned when Emhyr returned to Nilfgaard, and was only released after he dethroned the Usurper. Fringilla says that it took her "a while to be freed," which implies that Emhyr carefully vetted all political prisoners before their release.

1263: Invasion of Cintra (~73)

And now we're at S1E1! This is where the official, present-day timeline for the series begins, all of which is on the Witcher Netflix site. So for now, this is where we're stopping-- if anyone wants, I can attempt to make another covering the present-day events, but that's a project for another day!

#the witcher #the witcher netflix #fringilla vigo #the witcher timeline #the witcher meta

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barad-dur-archivist · 2 years

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Ñoldorin Economy, Politics, and Social Structure

Economy

The Ñoldorin economy was entirely a barter economy, and they had no currency. They would trade their crafting skills and their raw materials with one another— a hunter may trade a portion of their kills for the crafting of arrows with which to hunt, or a smith might craft a piece out of a portion of metal for the miner that dug it from the ground. A Ñoldo’s wealth was determined by their skill and resources, and also that of their family, as these things were often shared freely among family. In Aman, the beauty and intricacy of craft was valued more highly, so jewelers and weavers were hailed, while in Middle-Earth this changed so that the work of hunters and weaponsmiths became more valuable. In dealing with other peoples, should currency be required the Ñoldor would have greater difficulty, but their handicrafts were valued more than all others, save some of those crafted by the dwarves. Thus, the Ñoldor were often considered exceedingly wealthy among the peoples of Middle-Earth.

Political Factions & Systems

Particularly quarrelsome among Elves, the Ñoldor were always split into different factions, which would break apart and reform rather quickly and decisively. While, before the Exile, these factions were largely superficial (those who preferred the Fëanárian Tengwar versus the ones that still wished to use Rúmil’s Sarati alphabet; or those who wanted to combine the letter þ into the letter s, versus those that didn’t) and the Ñoldor would make much ado about them, debating long hours in the Council of Masters and choosing their close companions based on their opinions of such things, these allegiances mattered little in the overall governance, and indeed the Ñoldor enjoyed these debates, with tempers rarely becoming heated. Save for the roles of the kings and princes in leading, which were largely respected but unimportant overall in Aman, these debates on craft and lore were some of the most central to Ñoldorin politics as they would frequently decide the matter for the majority of the culture, though these matters would soon be thought of as little after the exile. Aside from that, common judgements were given out by the High King, though particularly egregious cases would be decided by the Valar themselves.

The greatest political divide would come just before the Exile, when the Ñoldor split between those that followed Fëanáro and the others, who would eventually come to name Fingolfin as their leader. These factions were directly opposed in all but arms until reunified in part by Maedhros’ abdication of the High Kingship to Fingolfin in the seventh year of the sun.

In Middle-Earth, the Ñoldor would be scattered throughout Beleriand, and while the High King held the ultimate authority on the course of action in the war, they splintered into many smaller factions, and each of these factions would have relative independence, being ruled in different manners as the Lord of each faction saw fit, with distance and danger frequently dividing factions from one another. Despite the reunification, there remained some enmity between those of House Fëanáro and their people and the rest of the Ñoldor, largely as a result of the burning of the ships at Losgar and the crossing of the Helcaraxë.

Once a year, the kings and princes of the Ñoldor would try to hold a gathering to discuss the direction of the war against Morgoth. However, oftentimes many of them would not attend these meetings, and overarching rulership and political dominion was rather loose, even in the days of the more highly-respected High King Fingolfin, and certainly in the days of Fingon, whose authority hardly extended beyond Hithlum in anything but name, and Turgon, who largely kept away from matters outside of Gondolin. It would not be until Ereinion Gil-Galad in the Second Age that the remaining Ñoldor would be united under one banner.

Social Structure

Ñoldorin society is primarily ordered into “houses,” which are first the biological family, typically of one of the Haimakalië, and then extend to include those of the household— servants, apprentices, and people who closely followed the head of house. While the term “nossë” refers first to the immediate family—descendants of the named head of house, it can also refer to those followers who were not immediate family, but were still considered part of the house and often lived and worked in the same community. These nossi would have individual dwellings (or dwelling-chambers if in a palace or other large, shared home or complex), but share workshops, forges, kitchens, and a Hall of Fire among them. Frequently, they would also share resources as well, and teach one another and offer their skills to the House as a whole, and a House would function similarly to a very large family or even a small city of its own, depending on its size.

The language used when discussing membership of a house requires reliance on context clues to determine what form of relation one has to their house. For example, Nossë Fëanáro could refer either to the immediate family and descendants of Fëanáro, or to those that lived closely with them. Typically, this could be inferred through one’s genealogical introduction, though it could also show that one is not a part of the familial nossë if they introduce themself simply with their father or mother’s name and the house— such as the way that Gildor Inglorion introduced himself as being of the House of Finrod, but did not trace his own lineage back to Finrod’s immediate house.

It is also possible for a smaller, unrelated house to be under the umbrella of a larger house, particularly in the case of an apprenticeship, stewardship, or other such role. These individuals would introduce themselves as part of both houses, though they would use the geneological introduction only for their own house.

In addition to the greater nossi, those who claimed loyalty to an individual would be considered their liyúmë or lië, and would frequently live in the lands held by that individual and their house and fall under their immediate governance and guidance. The people of Fëanáro would be referred to in this way as “Liyúmë Fëanárollo” or, more commonly, as “Fëanálië.” These peoples often followed first their leader before yielding to the High King, and should their leader split from the rest, they would often follow them.

Genealogical Introductions

Ñoldor were often part of several houses by lineage, and in a list of titles would refer to all of them. Depending on the situation, one might introduce themself with their full lineage, or only part of it. These genealogical introductions would occasionally get quite long and drawn out, and in pressing situations might only contain the house of their parents, or whichever ancestor is deemed most important.

For example, Orodreth, son of Angrod, would be referred to as “Artaresto, enna Artaresto Nossello, attëa Angaráto Nossello, o Arafinwë ar Finwë Nossello ,” which would translate to mean “Orodreth, first of the House of Orodreth, second of the House of Angrod, of the Houses of Finarfin and Finwë.” In shorthand, he would simply say “Orodreth of the House of—“ and then whichever of his ancestors would be most beneficial in the situation.

Ñoldor were very proud of tracing their lineages, and when giving a full introduction would often go back to the first of their ancestors that had a house of their own. They would not list their degree of inheritance, however, if they or their ancestor are not the firstborn. For example, Maedhros would use “neldëa Finwë Nossello” meaning “third of the house of Finwë,” as the firstborn of the firstborn of Finwë, while his younger brother Maglor would only refer to himself as the first of his own house, should he have established one, and as a part of the houses of Fëanáro and Finwë.

One only claims to be first of their own house should they establish a family— either by marriage and having children, or after adopting. Though, unless an adopted child forsake their biological kindred, they will not be considered part of the house proper, but rather a fosterling. Thus, Curufin would be “enna Curufinwë Nossello,” due to his marriage and the birth of Celebrimbor. Had the sons of Eärendil forsaken their heritage and claimed Maglor as their father, he would have claimed “enna Kanafinwë Nossello” with the elder twin becoming “attëa Kanafinwë Nossello,” but as they did not, Maglor could not claim his own house. Meanwhile, Finrod was unmarried and childless, at least before being reborn, and thus would be referred to as “attëa Arafinwë Nossello” as his first ancestral title, not having a house of his own.

While the father’s name would be the name of the house in its entirety, a daughter will trace her heritage through her mother as well as her father, and if a woman has a daughter, she will be the head of her own house, in addition to being part of her husband’s. If the only child is a daughter, the father will not have his own house, but the mother will. Exceptions exist if there is only one parent living. For example, Aredhel would be “Irissë, attëa Amarië Nossello o Ñolofinwë Nossello, o Finwë Nossello,” which would translate to “Aredhel, second of the house of Amarië of the house of Fingolfin, of the house of Finwë.” Meanwhile, Galadriel, who only had a daughter, would refer to herself as “enna Artanis Nossello, attëa Eärwen Nossello o Arafinwë Nossello, o Finwë Nossello,” using only her own house rather than including herself as part of her husband Celeborn’s house. Turgon, who had only one daughter, but whose wife perished while crossing Helcaraxë, would be a bit of a different case, referring to only his father’s house for himself, not his own, while Idril as his only child would be “attëa Elenwë ar Turukáno Nossello,” combining the names of both parents into one house. Daughters would not often trace their matrilineal line back further than their mother save in very detailed genealogies, but would revert to using their grandfather’s house. The only exception would be in a longer line of firstborn daughters that each held and ruled their own houses, an exception that we have no concrete examples of.

#worldbuilding: first age #worldbuilding: years of the trees #worldbuilding: the quendi #worldbuilding: the noldor #worldbuilding: house of finwe #worldbuilding: cultural #worldbuilding: house of fingolfin #worldbuilding: house of finarfin #worldbuilding: house of feanor #tolkien #silmarillion #tolkien worldbuilding #silm #noldor #elves #lore #ok to rb

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cupofkey · 3 years

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Bit of a random question but do you think there was more than one personification of Vietnam? I think (based on reading a couple wiki pages) that there was a whole thing with north and south kingdoms even before the Vietnam war so idk.. plus a lot of south ocs for the Vietnam war itself..... idk just like to hear your thoughts

ok whoa this is gonna be LONG. I want to fully explain the history so maybe people can get a better understanding of the whole thing, since I feel most people just don’t really know much about our history or believe in misinformation. gonna throw in a fair amount of personal thoughts too. so I’ll do that rather than only stating my hcs and opinions without context... so yeah big long response under the cut.

but thank you for asking! this is like... a very personally relevant topic to me? I myself am not a scholar of Vietnamese history and politics or anything, but I grew up in a family of them, along with generally being a Vietnamese-American person and a child of refugees, and so this stuff has always been really important to me. I’m gonna discuss 3 facets of the questions about who Vietnam is and who she represents:

1. pre-1700s Vietnamese history, stretching back through the times of pre-Chinese domination

2. colonial and 20th century Viet history, including the Vietnam War

3. not directly related to your question, but I think it’s relevant to the central concept of “who is Vietnam”: Vietnamese diaspora and my general thoughts on nationhood/representation

also cw for like. war and colonization and turmoil. anyways here’s the history plus my thoughts, feelings, and opinions.

1. pre-1700s Vietnam

origins of the Vietnamese people

I’ve mentioned this before, but I hc Vietnam (who I’ll just be calling Linh throughout this to refer to the character, for clarity’s sake) as a northerner. this is because the ancient Vietnamese people were a group of tribes (Yue, Nanyue) who lived across southern China and northern Vietnam, specifically around the Red River and its delta, where modern-day Hanoi sits. the modern Vietnamese Kinh ethnic group (~85%) are descended from them.

the Cham people (who are now an ethnic minority) controlled the central to south part of the country for over a thousand years— however, their culture is completely different. they were seafarers arriving from Borneo (Malaysia), and like many other Southeast Asian civilizations, adopted many aspects of Indian culture from language and religion to architecture and law. their kingdom, Champa, was very much ethnically, genetically, and culturally separated from the Vietnamese of the north until the 18th century.

What Actually Happened during this period (~250BCE - ~1650 CE)

several kingdoms and dynasties existed in that area around the Red River delta starting in the 3rd century BCE. however, Han-dynasty China invaded the area known as Nam Việt/Nanyue in 111 BCE and thus began a millennia of Chinese domination. this period was interspersed with various revolts, independent kingdoms, and constant clashes between the Vietnamese and their Chinese conquerors. many of our folk heroes are folk heroes because they said “fuck you” to the Chinese back in these days, including the famous Trung sisters.

Vietnam was very powerful and stable once it gained independence in 939 CE and established its first dynasty. this soon becomes the kingdom of Đại Việt in 968, which lasts until the 1800s. thus, this is the name Linh has been under for the most time across her life. you have to remember, though, that Nam Viet and later Dai Viet still only covered that north/central area of modern-day Vietnam at first!

Champa (green) was founded a few centuries after that pre-China period in the north, in the year 192 CE. it quickly absorbed Indic influences from its neighbors (such as the state of Funan, which was centered even further south on the Mekong Delta. religious influences included Hinduism and Islam.) the kingdom reached its peak through the 7th-10th centuries, although it gradually declined and was eventually completely taken apart by several events. notably: a war with the Vietnamese in the 15th century which they lost very badly, Dai Viet’s gradual southward expansion beginning in the 11th century, and annexations of their remaining principalities ending in the 17th century. thus, the ethnic Vietnamese eventually took over the full area we now know as Vietnam.

ok, so what about hetalia?

to answer your first question: no, I don’t personally hc there being more than one “Vietnamese” personification during this time. The Cham people as previously stated were one of several groups living in what’s now South Vietnam; however, they are very different in many ways, and so I don’t consider the personification of Champa to be Vietnamese. (this is unlike how North and South Korea are both Koreans.)

I do think there was a personification of Champa-- is, really, since the Cham people are one of the most significant ethnic minorities in Vietnam-Laos-Cambodia. whoever they are, they probably live in Cambodia, since their population is largest there (there was a large migration after the dissolving of Champa to neighboring areas).

I’ve mentioned this, but I headcanon that personifications represent their peoples and cultures as a whole rather than specific pieces of political leadership. for example, several power splits occurred during this time (can google Mac/Le dynasties or Trinh/Nguyen lords, where the country was divided by different ruling families) but I would personally consider Linh representing both sides of that.

2. colonial to 20th century Vietnam

French Indochina

I won’t go into too many details here, but basically the French split Vietnam into 3 colonies: Tonkin, the north; Annam, the central region; and Cochinchina, the south; each one had a slightly different status under French governance. Laos and Cambodia were later incorporated. throughout this period, the Vietnamese people were continuously revolting for independence. this nationalism sparked movements moving away from royalism/regressive goals and toward modernization and radicalization, and of course all of it was cracked down on by the French.

after Japan’s ruinous takeover of Indochina at the end of WWII and the abdication of the last Vietnamese emperor (essentially a French puppet), the French tried to reassert themselves, but a new group called the Việt Minh stood in their way. (this group was led by Ho Chi Minh, and had been formed as an anti-Japanese/French group composed of north-central Communists and Viet-nationalists. they had received some support from the US during WWII as well, and are the foundation for the current Vietnamese government today.)

the first and second Indochina Wars

the conflict between the Viet Minh and France/America/a state created by France called the State of Vietnam is referred to as the First Indochina War, and it mostly took place in the north (fka Tonkin). the Viet Minh eventually won the war. an agreement was reached with France to have the Viet Minh take the northern half of the country from the line of the 17th parallel to create North Vietnam, and the State of Vietnam would cover the southern half.

later known as South Vietnam or the Republic (of Vietnam), this state was backed by the US and was led by the infamous Ngô Đình Diệm, and lots of crazy shit happened on both sides. once again won’t go into it bc you can just google, but basically things were not going well and the conflict was not over by a long shot. millions fled the North for the South to escape Communist persecution.

starting in 1956, a group called the Việt Cộng, a group of armed communists, initiated a guerilla war to overthrow South Vietnam and “unite” Vietnam. this, of course, is the Second Indochina War, better known in the US as the Vietnam War, and was fought between North and South Vietnam. as time went by, the Viet Cong were boosted then essentially replaced by North Vietnamese troops (like, from the government, since the guerilla warfare was overlapped by more conventional tactics and they needed help.) the North was backed by the USSR, PRC, and Laotian/Khmer communists; the South was backed by the US, South Korea, and several others. by 1973, the US withdrew completely, and in 1975 Saigon (the capital of South Vietnam) was captured. this marked the end of the war, and the beginning of “reunification.”

personifying South Vietnam?

clearly, there was an incredible amount of turmoil and violence and complexity within these wars. I’ve given the briefest of rundowns, and hopefully it’s even somewhat adequate to express just how bad things were, to show just how serious this all is, and just how little of it I can capture in my own musings about country people.

that being said. do I think there were separate North/South personifications during this time?

my answer is... no. for several reasons: firstly, as previously stated, there has never really been a South Vietnam Personification in my view, and there’s not much of a historical precedent for it. the divide only seriously began when the French split the country, which tbf is a long time, but idk if it would affect Linh herself seeing how old she is. after all, South Vietnam only really existed as an independent state for about 20 years.

secondly, north and south have different cultures for sure, but I don’t believe they’re culturally different enough to warrant separate personifications. government wise is a different story, but culturally Vietnamese people don’t have a large divide, and most of us consider ourselves Vietnamese at the core, not South Vietnamese or North Vietnamese. will discuss exceptions in a second.

thirdly, this war is often seen as a civil war, and I’m of the personal hc (maybe inspired by (un)civil, tbh!) that if nations have different “manifestations” of the belligerents, they don’t have separate bodies. basically what I mean is I think both “North Vietnam” and “South Vietnam” were separate concepts, sure, but they both existed at the same time in Linh’s body. does that make sense? I hope it does.

thus, my opinion is that there wasn’t a South Vietnam personification, but rather as Vietnam began to fragment ideologically in the 1930s (with those revolts against the French), more and more internal conflict built up in Linh’s body.

(and it’s not like that went away come 1975; no, I’d argue it became even worse. one must understand that there wasn’t just a north-south conflict in the realm of politics. this was a government-people conflict, too. if you look up land reform in North Vietnam, re-education camps, you’ll see what I mean. so I do think there was a lot of internal conflict for Linh throughout this whole period, just for many, many more reasons than is usually portrayed.)

3. who is Vietnam today?

well, it’s time for me to give my completely unsolicited opinions and thoughts even harder!

Vietnamese diaspora

this is a question I’ve been thinking about for a very long time, as a member of this very diaspora. does Linh represent her diaspora, too? do nations claim their diasporas? there are about 4.5 million overseas Vietnamese, with about half in the US, and that’s not a small number. so does Linh represent these people at all? especially if they were born in Vietnam and then moved, does she still represent them, or does someone else like Alfred? what about their children? is it about birth, even? residency, citizenship? self-identification? or just being inside the border?

the Viet diaspora also kind of throws a wrench into things because many of them are ardently nationalist, but specifically South Vietnamese nationalist. in places like France it’s more divided, but Viet-Americans especially are generally very antagonistic toward North Vietnam / the current Vietnamese government, as they literally left the country because of the regime. so do their nationalistic beliefs in the Republic create a personification? is this justification for some kind of cultural basis for a South Vietnam? I don’t think so, because at the end of the day it’s all for the sake of Vietnam period, not north or south. there are some northerners like this too. people aren’t monoliths. but...

really, just lots of questions. I don’t really have answers, honestly. I can throw out my personal feelings and thoughts, but it’s just hard to say, and I don’t think I’ll ever really have The Answers.

(( in my heart of hearts, though, I’d like to think... individuals and groups can be represented by many nations. I want to think they can feel anyone who considers themselves a part of that group, feel their pains and joys just as much as they do for their born-and-bred citizens. I like the idea of Linh deeply understanding her diaspora, because she was there when they were still a part of her, and she knows why they had to leave. and I think Alfred understands all the people living with him, and he ardently wants to make them welcome. I think he knows the dread of being alone, lost, without a home or family, looking to blaze a new trail, make a new home, find new comfort when everything else is lost... ))

a little bit about me

Viet-American. refugee family from both the North and South. literally all of the events I’ve mentioned, my family has been a direct part of somehow. I have direct relatives who were killed by the French, starved during the Japanese occupation, killed by North Vietnamese government efforts like land reform, killed by American bombs and Viet Cong, put into re-education camps, fled Vietnam by boat, plane, foot. I don’t think there’s a single Vietnamese person today who hasn’t been affected somehow.

I’m not trying to write a sob story, just letting you know. I’m not pity-fishing, because that’s not what this needs, anyway. just showing that things are really complicated, and painfully shitty, and crazy, and just plain weird. Vietnamese nationalism is a really complicated topic in general due to all the conflicting pressures from all levels of society and so I hope you can see that a little better. I hope this was enlightening in some way!

because I don’t think we see the Vietnamese perspective enough on everything that happened in the 20th century. it’s always the American, or French, or Chinese, but not ours... when it’s our story. so I hope I could tell it, maybe do it a bit of justice, who knows.

final words

writing this has really made me think about this one song. it’s called Gia Tài Của Mẹ, “A Mother’s Legacy”. here’s the lyrics+translation.

it’s very typical patriotic South Vietnamese music, by the poet Trịnh Công Sơn and sung by the singer Khánh Ly. many of Trinh Cong Son’s songs directly address the Vietnamese identity and collective trauma from the events of the 20th century. my dad used to sing them around the house all the time, play CDs, the first songs I learned on the guitar were TCS’s... I think they’re a really key part of thinking about the Southern Vietnamese identity, and this song especially touches on a lot of the history and emotions I addressed.

so go give it a listen, or look at the lyrics. I think it really covers this topic nicely. and let me know if I should talk more about these songs, because I think lots of them are really relevant to my thoughts...

ah, my thoughts, completely unasked for, but thank you for opening the door! please let me know what you think, if you learned anything, if you want to hear more specifically hetalia stuff abt Vietnam, idk, I would really like to hear from anyone reading this period. I also put a lot of time into putting this together dkfjsdkfj so yea any interaction is appreciated. this is something really important to me, I guess is what I’m trying to say. and if you made it this far I’m sending you lots of love, thank you <3

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thevindicativevordan · 3 years

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My Superfamily Set-Up

By and large I’m fairly happy with the upcoming Infinite Frontier status quo for the Superfamily. Granted that’s in part because I’m still convinced Kara will get an ongoing or mini in 2021, probably to coincide with her show returning, and PKJ hinted at plans for Steel on Twitter. But Kon has escaped the Titans dumpsterfire for a little while, and I’ve heard good things about Thompson as a writer as well. Kenan is popping back up in a one shot written by Yang that will hopefully herald more appearances in Batman/Superman. Jon is still co-protagonist with Clark in the main books, Tanya is in the Future State Shazam book and also a candidate for the FS Justice League book, so hopefully she’ll be in Titans Academy, and Lois is poised to be a big player in the upcoming Checkmate mini by Bendis. So fingers crossed, all the core members of the Superfamily will be in stuff come end of 2021.

Now that said, were DC to suddenly realize that I alone can save Superman, and asked me what kind of status quo I would like (whether for a mainline or Elseworld book makes no difference to me), this is the basic set up that I would go with:

Superman - I’d do a traditional status quo. Superman is disguised as Clark Kent, mild mannered reporter, married to Lois Lane, etc. I’d have Ma and Pa go back to being dead since I still am not a fan of them being alive. Note that this isn’t a reaction against Bendis, I loved Bendis’ run, but I do want to play with the traditional status quo a little bit before diving into something different. Especially since so many Superman writers have traditionally completely wasted the potential of Superman’s status quo.

Lois Lane - Similar to Superman I’d go with a more traditional status quo at the start. She works at the Daily Planet, she and Clark are married, she’s the best reporter in town, etc. I would eventually have her take over as editor-in-chief of the Daily Planet from Perry, I thought that was a great idea the New 52 wasted, and I love the idea of her and Cat Grant being rivals with the Daily Planet and Catco competing.

Jon Kent - I’d restore kid Jon and toss him back to the Super Sons, not because I think what’s been done with him has been bad, but mostly because I don’t want to write him as Superman, I want to write Clark. Jon seems to be being set up to be co-Superman, and I just don’t have any interest in writing that. To restore kid Jon without destroying Bendis’ run which I enjoyed, I’d explain that teen Jon is actually the “evil” Jon we saw from the Super Sons of Tomorrow future. He went back in time and rescued his kid self from Earth 3, and explained to him that he wanted to prevent that future from coming to pass, but that he needed to take his younger self’s place to do so. Kid Jon agreed, after all he was terrified of becoming evil in both Tomasi’s Super Sons of Tomorrow and Bendis The Man of Steel, and has basically been in hiding watching the events and also studying Hypertime so he can learn how to avoid ending up evil.

Clark and Lois would blow up at the Jons for the lie when Teen Jon judges he’s changed things enough for his kid self to return, but both Jons could point out that both Clark and Lois have kept secrets when they deemed it necessary from each other and Jon. That would be a neat conversation to have, and a way to continue the untraditional family dynamic that Bendis set up. You could keep teen Jon as a time anomaly until Hypertime catches up with him and restores him to his timeline, with him continuing to be Superman as penance, while kid Jon goes and pals around with Damian in Williamson’s Robin or whatever.

Superwoman/Kara Zor-El - I like the idea of Kara “graduating” to the Superwoman name. It’s open right now given Lana’s retirement, and I think it would suit Kara. I would keep Kara in National, it’s her own little corner to play in, but I would keep that development from (I believe it was) Andrea Shea, where Kara gets fired from Catco because she’s a terrible intern due to always running off to be a heroine. She and Kal talk, Kara admits she doesn’t really want to be a journalist, and so she goes and interns at STAR Labs. I hate how DC keeps turning all the members of the Superfamily into Clark clones. It’s goddamn stupid and I want them to please STOP. Why the hell would Kara want to go into journalism anyway? We’ve never even seen a damn journalist on Krypton! It’s a stupid thing they did on the TV show because they wanted to swipe Clark’s stuff. Let Kara be the scientist of the Els, the one who carries on the family tradition. What form that takes is something I’m open too, I liked Venditti making her interested in history in his annual, maybe make Kara an anthropologist? That would be hilarious.

Also give Lena to Supergirl, they can be best friends, enemies, lovers, I don’t care. But Lena is wasting away in a vault under Lexcorp last we saw, and that’s a damn shame considering how popular CW Lena is. I’d also add Natasha Irons (who I’d rename Mastersmith) and Tanya Spears (Powerhouse) to Supergirl’s supporting cast, they could play off each other as three supergenuis women).

Kon-El/Conner Kent/Scion - I’m really excited to see what Thompson is going to do with Kon on the Suicide Squad, but here’s what I would do with him. Kon would finally be able to shake off the Superboy moniker and leave that to Jon. Instead he’d take the name “Scion” as a reflection of his origins, and a tie-in to his new status quo. In the wake of Death Metal, Lex Luthor would abruptly step down as head of Lexcorp, stating that he needs time to redefine himself in the wake of his latest attempt to justify himself as the true hero by serving Perpetua, ending up with him needing Superman to save the day again. While he is away, he’s turned over complete control of Lexcorp to his sole heir: Conner. Conner is now head of one of the evilest megacorps in existence, and is one of the wealthiest men alive. Conner knows this is just another maneuver by Lex in his neverending crusade against Superman, but he’s determined to not just be another pawn. He accepts control, renames Lexcorp Superman, Inc. His mission will be to transform the megacorp into the force for good it pretends to be. Conner will have to take on not only Lex loyalists and traitorous underlings who would love to be CEO themselves within Lexcorp, but new megacorps who have flocked to Metropolis in hope of establishing themselves, now that the former Master of Metropolis has abdicated his throne. Threats within and threats without, but armed with the powers/morals of Superman and the charm/brains of Lex Luthor, Kon is just cocky enough to think he can handle it.

John Henry Irons/Steel - It will be a big year for John Henry Irons. His private company Steelworks is about to go public and make him a billionaire. Lana Lang has accepted his marriage proposal and they’re due to be wed. His niece Natasha has left the nest and is off working at STAR Labs. Irons is posed to finally resurrect the decrepit Suicide Slum and allow it to catch up to the rest of the City of Tomorrow. However there are problems: new megacorps are moving into the city in the wake of Lex Luthor leaving, people are disappearing from Suicide Slum with dark rumors are spreading about the reasons why, and the people of Suicide Slum are accusing Irons of planning to gentrify the borough. Making matters worse, weapons that Irons designed as a young man are appearing on the streets of Metropolis, attracting negative attention from the media and putting Steelworks at risk. Irons is going to have to suit up and take up the fight all over Metropolis, from the darkest levels of the Undercity, to the bright deceptive board rooms at the top of skyscrapers in the city’s heart. Irons will have to reckon with his past to secure his future, and confront the evil Metropolis would rather pretend doesn’t exist.

Kenan Kong/New Super-Man - Look just give Yang a damn Kenan book and let him go wild. Right now is either the best or worst time to give Kenan a book given the situation with Hong Kong, but if anyone is equipped to deal with it, it’s Yang. I’ll just add that I would love to see Kenan on a Global Guardians team, but I’d also love to see Justice League of China as a spinoff book of the main Justice League. Kenan is as close as DC has come to their own Spider-Man/Invincible take on Superman, Jon sadly hasn’t really differentiated himself from his dad while Kenan is VERY different. I would love to see Kenan pushed more and would buy a new book in a heartbeat. Also put out a damn New Super-Man omnibus Jim Lee, for God’s sake can’t you abuse your power to push the character you wanted created and is actually good unlike most of Wildstorm? You’re shoving Grifter back into everything but not Kenan? Christ.

So yeah that’s the Superfamily status quo I’d establish. Keeping my Clark and Lois ideas close to my chest for now, but I might go into more detail later.

#superman #superfamily #lois lane #jon kent #kenan kong #steel #supergirl #superwoman #dc comics #new super-man

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scotianostra · 3 years

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May 2nd 1568 saw Mary, Queen of Scots, escape from Loch Leven castle and revoked her abdication.

There was nothing boring about oor Mary I, Queen of Scots, she first visited Loch Leven castle, standing on its island in the picturesque loch, in 1565, as a guest of Sir William Douglas. From then on, during her short reign, Mary Stuart was a frequent visitor to the castle of Loch Leven and at times used it as a base for her favourite pastime of hawking. Mary last visited Loch Leven castle on the 17th of June, 1567, but on that occasion, she wasn’t really a visitor. Instead, she arrived as a prisoner and her forced visit lasted almost a whole year. With the help of various sympathisers and relatives of her gaolers, Mary eventually managed an escape on the 2nd of May, 1568. Thereafter, she revoked her recent forced abdication and gathered an army to move on Dumbarton castle.

This adventure began after the murder of Mary’s second husband, Henry, Lord Darnley. Many of Mary’s Nobles opposed her marriage to Bothwell, rising against her and her recently created Duke. A Protestant Army of three thousand men, led by the Earl of Morton and the Confederate Lords, met Mary’s Army at Carberry Hill, not far from Edinburgh, on the 15th of June, 1567. After six hours of fighting, Mary persuaded Bothwell to leave the field. Abandoned by her Duke, Mary surrendered to an Earl.

Shortly after her defeat at Carberry Hill and after a brief pit stop in Edinburgh, Mary was taken to Loch Leven castle by her Lords Lindsay and Ruthven, under the instructions of her half brother, the Earl of Moray. She was given into the custody of Sir William Douglas of Lochleven and spent most of her captivity living in the early 16th century Glassin Tower, at the south east corner of the castle. At one time, foiling an earlier escape plan, she was moved to the Solar Storey of the Main Tower, above the Great Hall. Throughout her time in the castle, she was accompanied by her own cook, her physician and Jane Kennedy, Marie Courcelles and the faithful Mary Seton; ladies in waiting.

Aside from Sir William, the household included his mother, Lady Margaret Douglas, also mother of the aforementioned Earl of Moray, and his brother George Douglas, as well as a young, orphaned relative, who was possibly an illegitimate son of Sir William. Before her marriage, Lady Douglas had been the mistress of Mary’s father, James V, and six children were born out of that relationship, including the Earl of Moray. Morals were quite different in those days and it wasn’t uncommon for Kings, in especial, to beget several illegitimate offspring. The present day censure over Mary’s morals should, instead, be considered in the context of her own times. In reality, Mary Stuart wisnae muckle different from any other royal and she shouldna’ be criticised for her affairs; no more so than any of her male peers or even her ain faither. It’s said that Lady Douglas resented Mary’s presence on the throne, believing that her son, Moray, should’ve been King. However, as Moray was illegitimate, he could never have ascended the throne. But Moray did become Regent, in August, 1567; King in all but name.

Famously, Mary fell ill soon after her arrival at Loch Leven castle and, sometime before the 24th of July, she gave birth, prematurely, to stillborn twins that she may well have ‘scandalously’ conceived with Bothwell before Darnley’s murder. Her secretary, Claude Nau, who wrote under her authority, stated that the twins were buried on the island. There is another, less probable version, which suggests that Mary gave birth to a daughter who was smuggled out of Lochleven and sent to France. Whatever the truth of that matter of the bairns, Mary was certainly in a very weakened and vulnerable state when, under Moray’s instructions, the Lords Ruthven, Melville and Lindsay presented her with abdication papers. Under considerable duress and threat from Lindsay in particular, Mary was forced to sign the papers, which she did on the 24th of July, 1567. She abdicated in favour of her infant son James, who was at that time just over a year old. James VI (& I) would be a mere ten months old when his mother later saw him for the last time.

The young and handsome George Douglas reputedly fell in love with Mary from the moment he met her, and the ‘young, orphaned relative’, a youth of between fourteen and sixteen years of age, was also bewitched by the beautiful Queen. The latter has been consigned to history as ‘Wee Willie Douglas’. Perhaps that was a moniker given him by his ally – and rival for Mary’s affections – Geordie Douglas. Unsurprisingly, those two dopey, love struck characters played an important part in Mary’s escape. Aided by the starry-eyed Douglas's acting undercover ‘on the inside’, various plans were made to help Mary escape. Those were either too fantastic to attempt or failed in their construction or, in the one case when an actual attempt was made, foiled by the attention of a boatman.

Finally, however, on the 2nd of May, 1568, Mary succeeded in escaping, primarily with the help of Wee Willie Douglas. The little hero managed to steal the keys to the Postern Gate from the table beside Sir William Douglas, when said gentleman was a wee bit the worse for wear after a banquet in the Great Hall. Mary, dressed as a servant girl, and Jane Kennedy made their way downstairs, across the courtyard and through the gates. Together, the three slipped away in one of the boats and rowed ashore, where George Douglas was waiting to welcome them and guide Mary to Niddry Castle, in Lothian. Legend has it that Wee Willie locked the castle gates behind him and, when half way to the shore, threw the keys into the water. Interestingly, when the Loch was being lowered, in 1831, a set of eight keys was found in the mud.

Immediately after her daring escape, Mary tried to have her abdication declared invalid and, with many Nobles readily declaring for her, was able to gather an army. However, that army was soundly defeated, in the space of an hour, by an opposing army, led by her half brother, the Earl of Moray. That was the Battle of Longside, that was, which took place just outside of Glasgow. Against the advice of her loyal Nobles, Mary fled south to England, in the hope that Queen Elizabeth I would help her. However, that wee plan wisnae as successful as her escape plan from Loch Leven. Mary was held in captivity for a further seventeen years and, in 1587, found guilty of being associated with various conspiracies, including the ‘Babington Plot’ and ultimately beheaded at Fotheringhay Castle.

#Scotland #scottish #mary queen of scots #escape #history

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adifferenttime · 3 years

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Honest Hearts: A Rough Rewrite

Hey! I’ve been working on an Honest Hearts rewrite-type-thing for a bit and figured I’d solicit feedback/assemble a post to store some of these ideas.

A detailed explanation of the premise is under the cut, but I’ve made this as a more interesting reintroduction to major locations, along with the characters who live there. I also have some lore consisting of letters, scripture, and holotapes that’s still in the early stages, along with a complete companion wheel for Salt-Upon-Wounds (he’ll follow you around for a little if you decide to help him out). Endings are now finished as well. I’m not planning on expanding this into a full mod, but I’m assembling everything in Twine so I can utilize branching dialogue and mimic skill checks.

I want to keep adding to and editing this because I’m having fun with it, so if you have any input, let me know!

Essentially, the story proceeds as written up until the point where Daniel sends you to either kill the White Legs or destroy their war totems. You quickly realize that their camp is deserted, at which point Salt-Upon-Wounds ambushes you, convo-locks you, and tells you that there’s an entirely different side to things here that you might not have considered.

Factions

The Mormons have established a theocracy in the Utah called Deseret, with New Jerusalem - what was once Salt Lake City - as its capital. Large numbers of them survived the initial apocalypse due to their pre-War focus on strong community ties and disaster prepping; over time, they have returned to the model of self-sufficient agrarianism that characterized the historical Mormon state of Deseret that existed in Utah in the 1800s. Their President, who wields supreme executive power, is also their Prophet. The Mormons believe he communes directly with God, but there’s some discontent in New Jerusalem over his hands-off approach to foreign policy and unwillingness to assemble a standing army. The Elders of the Priesthood are pushing him to allow for some kind of formal military to oppose what they see as revived versions of their ancestral enemies: America, Rome, and the “Lamanites” (this is what Mormons call Indigenous Americans; the “Lamanite” idea has historically been used as a justification for racism, and I’m reflecting that here because it’d be kind of heinous not to). In more than a few respects, Deseret serves as a mirror to the Legion and an exploration of the other side of the coin re: the tactics utilized by colonial empires to present themselves as legitimate while still claiming territory and steamrolling the opposition.

The White Legs are now more explicitly Shoshone, and I’m relying most heavily on the Timpanagos Band for names and historical inspiration (apparently the question of whether they’re Ute or Shoshone is pretty controversial, but I’m sticking with what the Timpanagos have said about it until someone corrects me). After migrating south in the wake of the Great War, the White Legs eventually settled in Ogden, about a day north of New Jerusalem. Initial interactions with the Mormons were friendly, but as New Jerusalem grew and its need for farmland and resources increased, tensions rose before culminating in open violence in around ‘76 or ‘77. Deseret’s party line is that the White Legs conducted a “raid” on one of their settlements and had to be driven away from Ogden; the White Legs claim the violence was not a raid, but a revenge killing after a Mormon killed a young man and was found not guilty by Mormon legal authorities (this is a theocracy, so “legal authorities” here can be understood as indistinct from “the church”). The Mormons established a new settlement on the ruins of Ogden, which they called New Canaan, and the White Legs fled to Salt Lake, where they have been dwindling in number ever since. Salt-Upon-Wounds’ plan to seek entry to the Legion is a last-ditch attempt to save his people from eradication when their neighbors and the land itself seems intent on killing them (not that that makes all the war crimes ok, which is a sentiment you’ll be able to express to his face if you engage him in conversation).

The Dead Horses are a pastoral society from out of Dead Horse Point, and are split almost down the middle along political lines. The more conservative, religious side opposes intervention in Zion. Graham desecrates the corpses of his enemies as an intimidation tactic, and because the Dead Horses’ religion is so eschatological and heavily focused on properly cleaning, preparing, and interring the dead, a big chunk of the religious leadership opposes him on that basis - they think his tactics are ungodly. They’re also worried that any Dead Horses who die in Zion and are interred there will be severed from their connection to Dead Horse Point and doomed to a separate, lonely afterlife. The younger, more progressive elements of the tribe are less traditionalist, sometimes less religious, and overall not as concerned about Graham’s treatment of the dead because of the potential benefit they might be able to derive from him. Follows-Chalk is their de facto leader, and while the Dead Horses don’t formally allocate political power, he’s among the most influential people in the informal tribal leadership. Most of the Dead Horses who’ve come to Zion have done so either because they support Follows-Chalk politically, or for practical reasons - namely, Graham’s access to a dizzying number of guns and his willingness to give them to anyone who’ll fight for him.

The Sorrows are now a terrace-farming agrarian society instead of hunter-gatherers (Zion has a lot of agricultural potential, and there’s already a few farming plots in the Sorrows camp you see in-game, so it’s not a huge departure from the canon). I’m keeping their Mexican heritage, but I’d like to give them some Ainu influences as well - partially for selfish reasons, but also because bears are extremely important to our culture and theology, which gels well with the elements of Sorrows culture and religion that appear in the canon. I’d like to keep the Survivalist because I like him, but I want to expand on their faith. One of the ways I’m doing that is by deciding they can still read English, even though they no longer speak it; it’s basically their equivalent of liturgical Latin. They’re also rigidly matriarchal and in contrast to the Dead Horses (who eschew formal political hierarchies) or the White Legs (who elect a chief who serves until he dies, is deposed, or voluntarily abdicates), leadership positions are allocated through matrilineal primogeniture; Waking Cloud inherited her position from her mother. Religious leadership, likewise, is only available to women. You’ll be able to talk to Waking Cloud about some of the ways this framework is incompatible with the Mormon perspective, and can appeal to her desire to retain power.

Characters

Canon Characters

Joshua Graham and Daniel are largely unaltered except through the addition of lore that gives insight into their cultures, motives, and pasts.

All three tribal leaders (Follows-Chalk, Waking Cloud, and Salt-Upon-Wounds) are either given new backstories, a different set of motives, or different approaches to one another/Graham and Daniel. They’re also explicitly leaders now - what power Graham and Daniel have, they derive from whichever tribal leader they’ve managed to attach themselves to. Of those three, I’m altering Waking Cloud the least and Salt-Upon-Wounds the most. Like I mentioned, I have a companion wheel for him so far and the bones of two other conversations - one, where you meet him for the first time, and the second, where you speak to him before the final battle. Will link as I finish them.

Original Characters

Each tribal leader now has a rival or right hand within their tribe so I can reflect the different ways the values of a specific community can express themselves.

Follows-Chalk’s primary rival among the Dead Horses is a man who refuses to tell you his name. That’s because using someone’s name in casual conversation is considered unspeakably rude, and the fact that Follows-Chalk is willing to share his own with you is, to Mysteriously Named Old Man Character, yet another sign of how disrespectful and laissez-faire Follows-Chalk is about their shared traditions. Old Man Character is suspicious of you initially, but if you speak to him more he starts to warm to you. The goal is to give you a sense that this he’s pretty xenophobic but for good reasons, and despite his political conflicts with Follows-Chalk, has a lot of love for him. He just wants what’s best for his family, and Follows-Chalk is part of that, even if Mysteriously Named Old Man Character thinks he’s making the wrong choices.

Kiiki is Salt-Upon-Wounds’ right-hand woman and intended as a contrast re: the approach to war and its costs. Salt-Upon-Wounds has done some horrible things and gets a fair bit of dialogue about that, but Kiiki is willing to go even further than he has with very little prompting. Her chief copes with what he’s done by trying to assure himself that the ends of war are worth the cost; Kiiki deals with it by trying to convince herself that the means weren't so bad, actually, and that anyone who isn’t nailing corpses to walls is being naive. All of that makes her sound pretty shitty, but she’s nowhere near as devoted to the idea of a Legion alliance as Salt-Upon-Wounds is. It only takes one very low Speech check to convince her that going Legion is a bad move, and one of the paths involves assassinating Salt-Upon-Wounds and installing her as the new leader as a way to stop the White Legs from joining Caesar. I haven’t added this path to the ending Twine because I’d like to finish Kiiki’s dialogues before I do that.

I’m replacing White Bird as the Sorrow’s spiritual leader with a woman named Imekanu. She’s incredibly old, savvy, and knowledgeable - she’s never been outside Zion, but has a store of books in English, Spanish, and Japanese that have allowed her some insight into what caused the war, if not the current state of the world. She’s also aware of the Survivalist’s origins - not because she’s entered any of his hideouts, but because she’s read over the scriptures and has correctly identified them as letters. Her perspective is that the Father in the Caves was a human being, but that doesn’t diminish his religious value. She sees him as analogous to the Buddha or a Catholic saint: human, sure, but still with access to some deeper truths about the purpose of man and the nature of human goodness. You’ll discover that this idea (that the Survivalist was a holy man rather than a literal god) is the most common perspective among the Sorrows, and you can talk to her about how this departs from Daniel’s perspective that the archetypal Father is divine, not human.

Quests

Each tribe has a specific quest that will either lower or bypass some of the penultimate checks that will determine your ending (people are more likely to believe what you’re telling them if you’ve already won their trust).

The Dead Horses: Joshua Graham has been putting the heads of the fallen up on pikes across Zion. The Dead Horses’ religion is deeply concerned with proper treatment of the deceased, and Graham’s decision to desecrate the corpses of his enemies goes against virtually everything they believe. The old man who won’t tell you his name asks you to take the heads off of the pikes and bury them deep in Zion, and to bring Follows-Chalk with you so you’ll have someone to tell you how to treat them properly. Over the course of the quest, Follows-Chalk will share some of his own beliefs about death, and you’ll have the opportunity to share your own. If you complete this quest without sabotaging it, Follows-Chalk will be willing to betray Graham to the White Legs before the final battle.

The Sorrows: This is basically just Ghost of She, but after defeating the Yao Guai you’ll discover a holotape revealing that the girl wasn’t killed by the bear, but by one of the murderers from Vault 22. Waking Cloud will speculate that maybe the Yao Guai wasn’t the ghost of the little girl at all but some other force that wanted to push you to discover the truth. If you wait until the end to tell Waking Cloud about the death of her husband, you’ll have to pass a Speech check of 75 to convince her you’re telling her the truth; completing this quest drops the check to 50.

The White Legs: Salt-Upon-Wounds will ask you to help him sabotage the Mormons’ preparations for the battle. If you help him with this, it’ll drop the Speech check for you to convince him to leave from 100 to 80. It’s not necessary at all to get the tribal confederacy ending, but a new note will appear in your inventory if you finish it and meet a couple other requirements (asking him certain questions, not attempting that one Speech check about religion, etc).

Endings

I’m trying to incorporate as much variety as possible, but there are three main ending paths: siding with the White Legs, siding with the other two tribes, and peace. The basic idea is that the outcome is predicated less on your direct intervention, and more on how other people act based on the facts they have available to them. Most of your influence is through your choices to hide or reveal key pieces of information, and the skill checks you need to access certain endings are less you convincing a character to do something and more convincing a character to believe you’re telling them the truth. There’s one major exception to this, it requires maxed Speech, and the ending it gives you is markedly bittersweet because you’re trying to get a guy to act against his own best interest. I’m writing all the endings up here, and will probably edit them as things change. The post where I explain them in more depth can be found here.

And that’s the story so far! Thank you for reading, and again: if there’s anything here you think is poorly-conceived, let me know. Thank you to @baelpenrose, who’s a grad student in the history of the American West, for helping me workshop a lot of this stuff. If you’ve got expert knowledge on any of the concepts I touch on or are personally a member of any of the groups I’m describing, please feel free to hmu: anon is on, and you’re always welcome to DM me. I’m just doing this for fun, but I still want it to be as not-shit as possible.

#fallout new vegas #fnv #honest hearts #honest hearts rewrite #probably should have started with initial conversations but oh well lmao

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that-lieutenant · 3 years

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Of the relationship between Mairon and the orcs

An assortment of various of my HCs in one shot format i guess

[This is my first time writing fanfic (whaaat) and i sadly don‘t have an ao3 account yet (but i‘ll get to it once my personal life isn‘t hell anymore) so please consider giving this some love :) ]

Also: this is heavily influenced by @lemurious writing (because all my silm interpretations nowadays are, i just love their content ahh)

His people.

His headstrong, steadfast, steel hard, loyal, ingenious, beautiful people.

When he first came upon them, their bodies had already adapted perfectly to the cold northern tundra of their homeland. Thick grey skin, heavy hair, stocky build.

The wars would add countless scars and burns and limbs of metal.

But that was later.

When he first met his people what was war to them? To him? Who knew then about the horrors they would be forced to face at the hands of the other species of Arda? At a time when they did not even know there were other species.

When he first came upon his people he thought they were the firstborn children Eru had shown the Ainur in their vision. He thought he had been successful in discovering them first, before the other Valar could. He had been so relieved that they would be spared a life in the stifling superficial horror that was Valinor.

And they really are the firstborn. These other, warm skinned, bright eyed, spindly thin creatures that came pouring back from west a couple centuries later, who were they but Valarin lackeys, transformed beyond recognition? And then they demanded land and loyalty and called their primogenitors disfigured and corrupted.

He knows now that he should not have been so surprised back then that these usurpers had shown themselves to have come with the blessing of Illuvatar. After all what were firstborn to Eru? Truly, what had been He Who Arises In Might, the firstborn of the Ainur, what had been his people, the firstborn of his children, to Eru?

The actions of this absentee god would speak clear words in the following millennia, they would come to learn.

When he first came to meet the true firstborn, when he lived among them, when he learned their customs, their language, their love and he found connections so deep they would fuel him for ages to come, that was when he knew he had found his people. And together with their leaders and his own brethren they were able to lay the foundations for a culture that would thrive in spite of its creator and the eternal war this creator perpetuated.

In merely a few centuries, together they were able to develop technologies that would not be seen again the following age.

And then?

The wrath and unquestioned self-righteousness of their enemies erupts over Beleriand and the years of intense warfare lead to brutal massacres. On both sides – he is nowhere close to being without fault; that fierce love of his people has lead him to commit some of the most heinous acts of violence over and over again – but even now he remembers climbing down into the ruins of their underground cities after their defeat. He remembers the protective bunkers filled with civilian bodies and standing in their spilled blood.

The ones that got out in time were mostly soldiers because they had been evacuatable once the defeat was imminent. But the workers, the engineers, the caretakers, the children, those who they had wanted to keep safe in the bunkers? It was too late for them by the time they realises that nothing they could do would stop the fortress from being taken. And then the Valar went on and slaughtered them all.

It is his fault. And at the time it seemed like the worst one he would ever make.

As a nuclear firestorm destroys Beleriand, as the remnants of an entire continent drown in the sea behind them, and he and what is left of his people loose everything, the only thing he can do is lead them away, further and further east. Until he can‘t even do that anymore.

Because at that point everything just collapses in on him. His work has been shattered to pieces, all his brethren and most of his trusted generals killed, his lord, his partner, his lover, his pillar was taken and with that he just stops functioning.

In their hour of greatest need he abandons his people. After all, the only thing he ever seems to bring to them is war and death.

For a millennium he just… There is no purpose, no responsibility. Distantly he hears of the hardships his people are facing now in the East. How slow civilisations develop without the energy of a Vala or three radiating stones to power them. But he shuts it all out. He becomes numb to it.

And strangely, when he stumbles upon the new settlements of the second firstborn he isn‘t filled with unadulterated unstoppable rage. He is just tired. After all, what, truly, are these creatures but the Valar‘s playball in their game of who-is-the-most-despicable-without-realising? And strangely, these Eldar do not recognise who he is.

So why not, he thinks. Why not live in easy expedients for once, why not push away the past and continue to abdicate any responsibility he has to his that people? He crafts a name and a lie to start his new life of ignorance is bliss.

Oh, sweet Tyelpe. How easy it is to share the discoveries they had made in the first age with this ellon when the reward is all eyes big of wonder and desperation to discover more of this „Valinorian“ technology. It is so much like in the old days when he and his brethren and the best scientist of his people would find new methods and formulas to describe the world around them that he can‘t help but loose himself in the intelligent conversations of their workshop, the peaceful thriving of their city, the warm tenderness of their embrace.

They work to create better methods of gaining and storing energy then until they eventually develop the rings that can provide enough power to sustain entire cities.

They plan to make rings for the strongholds of dwarves and men and Eldar. But what about his people, he finds himself thinking. These technologies that are now used in the elvish kingdoms, they are only a small part of what was developed by and for him and his people in the first place. So what about his people?

He feels restless now. Old anger at injustice and blind self-righteousness arise in him again. In secret he starts travelling to the settlements his people have made in a country they call Mordor. The conditions there are rough and the technology now primitive compared to their glorious past but he sees a lot of recent progress.

All of the generals and leaders of old are long dead now and it takes a lot of time and effort to convince his people to trust him again, that he can and will help and that he won‘t abandon them again. They start building an underground city and a fortress once more, Barad-dûr, where the energy will be harvested. He creates a ring more powerful than any of the ones before. It has to supply the entire population after all.

When he returns to Eregion something has changed.

He can feel a strange charge in the air. Are the Eldar suspecting something? They all seem very worried at the sudden surge of activity in Mordor and he is starkly reminded that these Eldar, at the end of the day they still view his people as an ultimate but also undignified threat.

He knows something is wrong when Tyelpe suggests that their rings might also be used as a weapon. One of mass destruction. Mass destruction of his people that is. Tyelpe leaves that unsaid but it is clear as day what he means.

He doesn‘t need to worry about the rings for the elven cities anymore, Tyelpe tells him then and smiles.

A primordial fear settles into his bones. The horror at what is to come turns his stomach. What has he done? How could he have given all this help, all this power to the Eldar when they would only turn around and use it against his people?

He remembers sitting outside on some steps, pulling at his hair, his entire body shaking, growing increasingly mad at all the options that seem to slip out his hands one by one. And when Tyelpe comes to meet him there the only thing left for him to do is to push the ellon against a pillar, knife to his eye and demand the elvish rings he devised in secret. But Tyelpe laughs bitterly and spits in his face.

So it is truly you, the abhorred one, the dark foe‘s torturer, his whore.

This time it is his own wrath that razes cities to the ground. His people are ready for war. They have to be. And the next centuries are dictated by mindless destruction and production lines of battle machinery being the first thing that is re-introduced into the city of his people.

But still the population grows again, the conditions improve, their underground civilisation expands and he finds that he can make alliances with some of the human tribes and kingdoms that they had given rings of power to.

He and his people once again find ways to live in perfect symbiosis with the harsh climate of their land. Volcanic soil is fertile, air and water can be filtered and the ring offers them enough power to sustain artificial lights for growing crops underground and more.

It‘s progress but one that they keep secret. Because just like he is fuelled by the fear of elvish development, the Eldar would surely bring about another war of wrath if they knew about the advancements of his people.

The whole Numenorean ordeal that followed some centuries later was a mess. When that conquerer-king and his armies march upon Mordor he has no choice but to give in quickly. They cannot risk being invaded. Luckily these men are self-complacent enough to take their smugness and their ‚victory‘ and leave again. Though they also feel the need to drag him to that forsaken island of theirs.

Ar-Pharazon truly was a conquerer. He stretched his hands further and further for more colonies on the continent while his nation corroded away with by civil war. The golden king took and took from everyone around him and the displays of subjugation he was continually forced to perform to this king were manifold and in all kinds of ways.

Of course the wrath of the Valar that they unleashed upon the island as soon as they felt slightly threatened in their superiority was in the end blamed on him. He only ever indulged the Numenoreans‘ fantasies. When they brought him to their island it was already on the brink of collapse with conflict and misanthropic ideologies. Sure he, too, lost himself a bit in that collective insanity; he was complicit, so was everyone else. And then Eru felt they could cast judgement upon all these individuals and drowned yet another continent.

He laughs in the face of such insolence. It‘s hysterical, maybe more so a scream.

Then the water hits his body. It presses all the air out, breaks his ribs, crushes his lungs.

When he awakes again he is floating on a piece of driftwood, endless blue stretches around him. His body is raw and for some reason he finds himself unable to shift form anymore. He starts to panic, tries to force his particles to regroup in a way that forms a bird, a fish, something, he needs to get out of this blue emptiness now, he needs to – what is happening??

There is another war at the end of that age, but by that time his memory has turned into an indecipherable blur. It leads to yet more massacre. But worst of all, they take the ring.

For him it is as if all the tissue that holds him together suddenly loosens. He falls to his knees, sacks into himself. He can feel his spirit oozing out of the leaks that now penetrate his form. He stumbles back.

In the underground city the lights go dark, the industrial production comes to a standstill, the water and air filters turn off. His people pour out of their homes once they start to starve, once they realise that their military has lost the war and that their government has no way of dealing with the catastrophe.

They are in need but once again he is abandoning them. He is just so tired.

In the tower there is a large tank with cooling liquid for the energy production of the ring that he now lies in. In the pitch-black darkness his bones have started to shine with a dim fluorescent green. His body has started to disintegrate.

Outside he can feel the remnants of his peoples civilisation fall to ruin a second time. It takes only a few decades for them to return to the primitive conditions of their life without a secure energy supply.

And then suddenly it‘s not only his body that disintegrates anymore but the heavy elements in him too. At a faster rate than is normally used to power an Ainu‘s body that is. The heat of the nuclear fission that has set in brings the coolant to the boil and he had just barely enough mind and willpower left to set off the steam turbine. With a thudding noise the whole energy plant slowly comes to life again.

And for the next millennia Mairon lies submerged in the coolant tank, his body glowing and radiating and falling apart, his atoms splitting and powering a city that has been abandoned and he can only hope that his people will come back and reclaim what is theirs by right and rebuild their lives, their culture, their technology with the last energy that he has to give.

#How Mairon turns himself into an atomic reactor: a powerpoint with pictures #sci fi tolkien #silmarillion #tolkien #mairon #orcs #lotr #silmarillion fanfiction #fanfic #technology #science in tolkien #sauron

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alj4890 · 4 years

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Misfortune's Intentions

(Liam x OC* Elisse Mallin) (Drake x Riley) in a Choices The Royal Heir fan fiction

A/N This idea came to me one night when I couldn't sleep. In this version from The Royal Heir, it has been nearly three years since Riley married Drake. Their infant daughter, Hope, was named heir to Cordonia's crown. Liam considers the possibility of dating after pining for Riley all these years. Elisse is a noble and first cousin to Queen Amalas of Monterisso. She will eventually become an ambassador, settling in Cordonia to continue Amalas's alliance. She also has a small bit of significant history coinciding with Liam's social season. This first part though will take us through the past for our main characters.

Not sure who to tag for this new miniseries, LOL. Let me know if you want to be added.

Masterlist

Prologue

Two years ago, Cordonia...

"To keep people's attention away from your brother's," Constantine's voice hardened, "decision to abdicate," his fist clinched for a moment, "we will have you participate in a season for a potential bride."

Liam swallowed uncomfortably. He knew there was a possibility his father would insist on this particular custom. He had hoped though that like Leo, he would be given a few years reprieve before he had to choose a bride.

Constantine fought through the chest pain he hid from everyone as he continued to explain what the next few months would be like for his only obedient son.

"We will have the usual bevy of ladies from Cordonia's noble houses. Perhaps sprinkle a few from other countries to appease the people."

"Yes sir." Liam mumbled when his father seemed to silently demand his agreement. "Whatever you think is the best way to move forward."

"Good." Constantine waved toward the door. "You may go. We will make our announcement tomorrow."

Liam bowed his head in acceptance. Still in a state of disbelief as he made his way to his chambers, he didn't hear his best friend calling his name.

"Liam?" Drake jogged to catch up to him. "I heard about Leo. Is it true?"

The new crown prince waited to answer until they were behind closed doors.

"It is." He rubbed a hand down his face. "Leo abdicated."

Drake poured them both a drink. He observed the slight tremble in Liam's hand as he took a healthy gulp of whiskey. Eyes closed briefly as he gathered his thoughts.

"I--I'm going to have to get married."

"What?" Drake breathed in disbelief. "Why?"

"All part of being king." Liam's lips twisted in a bitter smile.

He rolled his glass between his hands as he stared down at its contents. "I have to choose one during this year's social season."

"You have to go through all that Leo did?" Drake asked.

"Yes, but unlike his, I won't know who I'm supposed to choose." Liam grimaced as he swallowed the rest of his drink. "Madeleine had been chosen years ago by Father and Regina. The competition was mostly for the public's entertainment than to actually choose a queen."

Drake slumped back in his chair. "I'm sorry, Liam."

"It's..." He got up to pace, "it's fine. It's an honor to have a chance to serve my country. To marry and have a family...perhaps life will be better."

Perhaps this palace will feel like a home, he thought.

"When will it be announced?"

"Tomorrow."

"So soon." Drake murmured.

Liam briskly nodded.

His closest friend held his glass up in a toast. "Here's hoping, Liam."

*****************

Monterisso Royal Palace, a week later...

"Elisse." Amalas hugged her cousin. "Thank you for coming so quickly."

"Of course." Elisse took the offered chair. Her eyes dropped down to the baby bump showing. "How are you feeling?"

"Good." Amalas gently patted her tummy. "This baby has finally decided I'm not the enemy and has agreed that food is definitely a good thing."

Elisse laughed, shaking her head at her cousin's humor.

"But enough about the spoiled future king or queen I’m having." Amalas handed over a letter with Cordonia's royal seal. "Read this."

Elisse scanned the invitation, eyes widening slightly. "Prince Leo abdicated? Do we know why?"

The spy queen chuckled. "You know I do." She leaned over and grabbed a file off her table. "Let's just say that the former crown prince did not want the responsibilities that went along with the crown."

Elisse opened the file and snorted. "I've heard that Lady Madeleine can be difficult to deal with."

"That along with wanting his freedom to wander the earth like a rich playboy are his reasons." Amalas pointed out a photograph one of her agents snapped recently on a cruise ship. "This woman, Katie, is an even bigger reason."

"They're engaged?" Elisse whispered in disbelief. "He didn't waste any time, did he?"

"No, he did not." Amalas reclined in her chair. "Elisse? What would you think of Monterisso gaining an alliance with Cordonia?"

"I think it would benefit our country as well as theirs." She replied, setting Leo's folder down.

Another folder was handed to her. Her lips curved into a soft smile at the pictures of Cordonia's new crown prince. Each aspect her cousin found on Liam had made him a man she thought she would enjoy meeting.

"Marriage is the easiest and strongest alliance one can have with a foreign power."

Elisse looked up. "You're suggesting I take part in Prince Liam's search."

"Exactly." Amalas smiled at her. "I can't think of a better queen for Cordonia than you." She reached over and grasped her hand. "But feel free to say no. I won't force you to do this if you do not wish to."

"I would like to meet him." Elisse admitted. She lowered his eyes to his picture. "He is very handsome."

"You always did like blue eyes." Amalas teased.

Elisse bit back a smile. "I do."

"Would you like to attend Cordonia's social season?"

Elisse slowly nodded. "Yes, I think I would."

Amalas picked up the letter from Constantine. "I'll go ahead and schedule your health exam."

"My what?" Elisse blinked in surprise.

"Cordonia's king isn't taking any chances that his last possible heir marries a woman unable to have children." Amalas grinned at her cousin. "Lucky for him that our family is notorious for our reproduction abilities."

Elisse laughed. "Our mothers certainly came from a large family." Her smile turned tender. "Whenever I think of my future, I always see myself with three or four children."

*****************

A few weeks later, Cordonia, the King's study...

"Have you made a list of those that are participating?" Regina asked her husband.

"I have." He handed her a sheet of paper.

The Queen scanned the names. "What happened to the Monterisso viscountess? I thought from Queen Amalas's letter that they were hoping to make a match."

Constantine's lips firmed in a disappointed frown. "She cannot have children."

Regina's countenance fell. "How tragic."

"Indeed." He replied. "It would have been a profitable match for us." He released a resigned sigh. "I suppose we now settle for Madeleine to take the crown again."

***************

The viscountess's chambers, Monterisso Palace...

"Elisse." Amalas pleaded. "Please, talk to me."

The young viscountess shook her head. Tears fell silently as she clutched a pillow to her stomach. Her thoughts were too much for her. All the plans she had dreamed of as a little girl were destroyed from one simple examination.

All from thinking Liam had beautiful blue eyes and seemed like a nice man she could easily fall for.

A choked sob burst forth as she doubled over from the pain of it all.

"Elisse." Amalas tried to wrap her arms around her. "I'm so sorry."

Elisse knew her cousin was. She knew Amalas would move heaven and earth for her if she could. Unfortunately, there were some things even a powerful queen could not do.

"We'll call in every specialist we can find." Amalas whispered, gently rocking Elisse. "I refuse to believe--"

"Stop!" Elisse cried out. "Please stop." Her anguished eyes met her cousin's. "I can't continue to hear doctors say that it is impossible."

"It's not." Amalas argued. "I can’t believe you are unable to--"

"I only have one ovary!" Elisse snapped. "It is so damaged from the endometriosis and benign tumors that I'm lucky to have a period every few months." She looked down at her worthless womb. "Even my uterus is filled with fibroids to the point they have warped it beyond repair. Surgery won't help." She wiped angrily at her tears. "No one will marry me now."

"That's not true! You--"

"Amalas, you know what nobles need." Elisse bit out. "They need heirs. They need a woman to fulfill that role. I'm completely obsolete in our world now."

She turned away from her cousin's sudden tears. She didn't want her pity. She didn't want anything except those elusive images of cuddling her own children.

If she could turn her mind off and focus on something else, anything else...

"I'm going to go away for a while."

Amalas jerked upright. "What?"

"I need to be alone." Elisse turned to face her. Her eyes filled with tears when her gaze dropped down to her cousin's ever growing baby bump. "I need to come to terms with all of this."

"Will you back in time for..." An expression of guilt flickered over the queen's face for such a selfish question.

"I'll try." Elisse hedged. "I promise."

She knew Amalas depended on her. Though the two had numerous cousins sprinkled in various titled positions all over Europe, they had always had a special bond that made them more like sisters. Perhaps it was their mothers' doing that made certain they would always have the other close at hand.

But Elisse knew deep down, she would have been close to her cousin without any outside influence. The notorious Queen of Spies distrusted most people, even some of their blood relatives. Yet, she trusted Elisse with everything.

She hated to leave her during her pregnancy, but the viscountess didn’t think she could take being around an expectant mother right now.

Amalas hugged her once more. "I'll arrange your travel. But I insist you take Felix with you as a bodyguard." She waited on Elisse's agreement. "Let me know where and when you wish to leave."

"I don't care where." Elisse whispered. "Just as long as I can leave as soon as possible."

***************

New York City, a month later...

"One nondescript bar as requested." Maxwell announced, holding the door open.

"Steaks for the table!" He yelled out.

"And four whiskeys!" Drake chimed in.

Riley rolled her eyes at Daniel. "You're really going to leave me with these guys?"

"I promise I'll work two of your shifts whenever you want." He bargained.

She let out a tired sigh. "Make it three and we have a deal."

He shook her hand. "You are brutal with negotiations."

She laughed, piled the tumblers of whiskey on her tray, and headed for the bachelor party.

She passed three drinks out. "I thought there were four of you."

"There are." Drake winked at her, causing a blush to form on her cheeks. "Right behind you is number four."

She turned around and blinked.

He's so handsome.

Liam smiled at her. "Pardon me, Miss?"

"Hmm?" She shook herself out of her daze. "Of course."

His smile flashed, making her knees feel slightly weak. "If you would..." He gestured toward his seat that she was blocking.

Her cheeks flared even more with color. "Right. Sorry."

She decided then and there to not allow her eyes to rest on him the remainder of their time here.

A few hours later, Liam approached her.

"Thank you for being so patient with us." His charming smile was a bit bashful. "I don't suppose I could repay such kindness with buying you a drink."

Riley found herself mesmerized by his blue eyes. "Where were you planning on going next?"

"I actually hoped you could help with that." He rubbed the back of his neck. "The guys hoped to go to a nightclub."

Her nose wrinkled. "I say forget the nightclub. There's a beach cove I could show you that is just the place to unwind."

"That sounds perfect." He held his hand out. "Shall we?"

****************

Six months later, Edenbrook Hospital, Boston...

Elisse chewed on her lower lip, wishing she could hear what the group of doctors were saying behind the glass partition.

After taking her file and passing it to a man in surgical scrubs, Dr. Ramsey walked back into her room.

"Ms. Mallin, after further examination," his expression gentled, "I believe your doctors in Monterisso were correct."

Elisse lowered her eyes. "I see."

"I still want to perform the surgeries we discussed." He sat down beside her hospital bed. "The severe pain in your uterus will only increase if we don't remove the fibroids. Dr. Tanka isn’t sure though how it will be after your surgery."

"Whatever you think." She closed her eyes tight. "It doesn't really matter what shape it is in. I suppose we should just remove it altogether."

Her doctor rested his hand over hers. He waited patiently for her to make eye contact.

"We won't know for certain until Dr. Tanka gets in there, but we believe we can save your ovary."

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "By all means, hold on to that worthless body part."

His brow furrowed. "Elisse, I don't like the thought of you in this state of mind before surgery."

"I'm sorry." She replied automatically. "I don't mean to sound like this." Her gaze held his. "I--I never wanted much in life." Her shoulder lifted. "Perhaps it was the life I was born into, but having a family was more than passing on my noble title."

Ethan remained silent, allowing her time to express herself.

"I know I need to accept this, but I couldn't help but hope after reading about your diagnostic team," She rested her head back against her pillow, "I wanted the impossible."

"There's still a chance your uterus can remain intact. We might even be able to save some of your eggs." Ethan reminded her. "You could find a surrogate and--"

"I know." She sniffed. "And I also know there is a chance my eggs might not be in any shape to be saved."

She noticed his frown and gently squeezed his hand. "Thank you for trying, Dr. Ramsey."

"We're not done yet." He stood up when Dr. Tanka walked inside. "We'll talk more later."

Once everything was settled for her surgery in the morning, her bodyguard returned and kept vigil by her bedside.

"Felix," Elisse smiled softly at the middle aged man. "You should go to the hotel and rest."

"I'm fine m'lady." He grumbled.

Her eyebrow lifted at the six foot seven man. "That chair has to be uncomfortable."

A flicker of humor flashed in his eyes. "I've had better and worse, m'lady."

She began to laugh. "I can't imagine anything being worse than that."

"You haven't been on some of the queen's missions." He smiled warmly at her.

Elisse reached for his hand. "Thank you for watching over me."

He gently patted it, becoming gruff with his words that a lady didn't have to thank him for doing his job.

She smiled, taking comfort in his admonishment. Felix had tried to keep a professional distance from her, yet her sadness had him stepping in more and more to offer what comfort he could. He thought of her as a little sister and couldn't help but smile whenever she teased him as if he was family.

Such fondness for her added to the devotion and care he would have normally never given any other noble he was assigned to.

But Elisse was special. He hoped that somehow she would find a piece of happiness that could be all her own.

****************

New York, Statue of Liberty...

Riley swallowed nervously. She didn't know how she could refuse Liam, but it was no use.

After spending so much time with Drake while Liam kept up appearances with Madeleine, she had fallen out of love for Cordonia's new king. The grumpy commoner had touched her heart with his stories of not belonging. She had felt the same way while enduring every snub and insult from Madeleine and some of the other ladies at court.

With so little opportunities to be with Liam, and with feeling a bit hurt that her Prince Charming had not defended her against the allegations, she convinced herself that she had no choice. She had to be with the man that had stood by her side as she tried to locate Tariq.

"Liam, I can't marry you." Her words somehow came out steady. "I came to Cordonia for you, but I fell in love with Drake."

Liam took a step back. "What? You and Drake..."

He couldn't believe it. How had this happened without him noticing? He knew that Drake was fond of her and took her out some evenings. But love?

"Liam?" Riley was growing more nervous by his silence.

Liam couldn't think of what to say.

What should I do?

He only knew he wasn't ready to lose her from his life.

"You...you intend to live in Cordonia?"

She slowly nodded. "If that's okay. I want to see where things go with Drake."

Her words were another bitter slash to his heart.

"Of course." He slid his hands in his pockets to keep from grasping her and forcing her to take her words back. "Just because you don't feel as I do, I would never hold that against you. Cordonia is your home."

She visibly relaxed. "Thank you Liam."

"I think," he focused on her, "I think you will be a benefit to Cordonia. I'm going to make you a duchess."

"A duchess?!" She gasped. "But..."

He knew this would keep her at hand. Give him a reason to see her without appearing as the desperate, rejected suitor. Perhaps now that the scandal was over and things calmed down, she might realize that what she thought was love for Drake was nothing more than gratefulness for his assistance.

Am I wrong for hoping this? Should I instead hope their love is true?

Liam forced a smile. "I arranged for us to go to the top." He motioned toward the statue. "Would you still like to?"

Riley returned his smile. "I really can't pass up an opportunity like that, can I?"

"I hoped you wouldn't." He replied.

He followed behind her, wishing this night had ended differently.

***************

Another five months later, Cordonia...

"Anton and his minions are in chains!" Riley held her glass high as the court cheered.

Liam tugged at the stiff collar of his jacket. It had been a day filled with emotions that he could not share with a single soul. Seeing the woman he thought he loved marry his best friend had cut deep. Discovering they had been kidnapped had caused both anger and worry as he rushed to face down the man who dared to take the throne from him.

Witnessing Riley and Drake fight side by side, each trying to protect the other had been eye opening. Neither cared about anything other than keeping the one they loved safe.

He couldn't begrudge their happiness. Nor could he continue to wish that circumstances had gone differently. Riley was not meant for him after all.

He knew he would have to let the past go and somehow find a way to move forward into the future.

******************

A month later, Monterisso Royal Palace...

"King Liam chose an heir!" Amalas exclaimed when Elisse walked into the main hall.

"He chose one? That is shocking." Elisse leaned forward to see the report that just came in. "Who's the lucky child?"

"That's just it." Amalas dropped the paper. "He has named the yet to be conceived child of the Duke and Duchess of Valtoria as his heir."

Elisse's brow furrowed. "But, he might still marry. His own children should be next in line."

"He says differently." Amalas pulled up his news conference for her cousin to watch.

"This seems wrong." Elisse mumbled. " I know those two are his closest friends--"

"And they are Guardian and Champion of the Realm." Amalas reminded her with an eye roll. "That's what he has had to use to get the people on board with his decision."

"Poor Liam." Elisse couldn't help but sympathize with the king. "He's being pressured on all sides for something he can't completely control."

"I think I might pay a visit." Amalas tapped her finger against her chin. "Perhaps see if the new duke and duchess are amenable to a possible alliance."

"It couldn't hurt." Elisse added.

"Indeed." The Queen smiled warmly at her. "I want you to come along. It has been too long since you and I went on a trip. I could use your ability to read people while I guide them toward a possible arranged marriage for their child and mine."

"I suppose I have to do as my queen commands." Elisse teased. "And I've yet to ever say no to my cousin."

"Doubly lucky for me." Amalas smirked.

"When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow."

#misfortune's intentions #choices the royal heir #liam x oc #drake x riley #choices trh

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autistocracy · 3 years

Text

(Left: flag of the Principality of Albenga; Right: flag of the Colony of San Cassiano)

Il Principato di Albenga was founded in 1298 as the Signoria di Albenga for Nicolò Doria, of the famous Genovese Doria family. Initially, it was little more than a feudal holding of a powerful family, but as the years turned to centuries, the Albenga branch of the Doria family, known today as Doria-Albenga, became more and more independent of the main family. In 1488, it was elevated from a simple Signoria to a Principality, and the Prince of Albenga continued to amass more power. Eventually, the Prince was sovereign of much of the surrounding area (what corresponds to the real world Italian province of Imperia).

By the time the conquest of the New World truly began in the mid-16th century, Albenga was a nation fully independent of the Republic of Genoa. The Prince from 1603 to 1631, Emanuele Raffaele Doria-Albenga, along with several other Albenganesi nobles (namely the Signoro of Dolceacqua), funded an expedition for the New World, landing on the island of San Cassiano, named this because it was discovered on August 13, feast day of Saint Cassian (San Cassiano is known in the real world as Saint Thomas in the US Virgin Islands). Upon arrival back in Albenga, the expedition was sent out once again to establish the island as a colony of Albenga. When they returned to San Cassiano, they did thus, and also explored the nearby island of San Vitale (discovered on April 28; St. John in the real world), expanding the colony there as well.

Emanuele Raffaele Doria-Albenga appointed his brother, Mariano Eraldo, as the first governor of the so-called Colonia de San Cassiano, the colony of San Cassiano. Mariano Eraldo was an established sailor and cartographer, and his first job upon reaching San Cassiano in the summer of 1616 was to begin mapping the islands of San Cassiano and San Vitale. Initially, the colony was worth little, but in 1618, sugar was imported and several plantations, owned by the families who had bankrolled the initial expedition, were established. On plantation in particular, belonging to the brother of the Lord of Dolceacqua, became well-known for the rum produced from the sugar grown on their plantation.

For the next century, the population of both Albenga and San Cassiano continued to grow, and so did the wealth of the principality. The Prince of Albenga from 1669 to 1691, Constantino Franco, ordered the construction of a palace in Albenga, as well as the construction of a large church on the island of San Cassiano. Prince Constantino was also the first Prince of Albenga to visit the colony, arriving on the in San Cassiano to much fanfare. The visit, however, would be his undoing, as his ship wrecked on its way back to Europe, killing everyone onboard.

Prince Constantino’s son and successor, Jacopo II, not being deterred by his father’s death, made many trip to San Cassiano during his reign, and some critics of his referred to him as the Prince of San Cassiano instead of Prince of Albenga because of how much time he spent in the colony. Prince Constantino was also known for being a great patron of the arts, and commissioned many art pieces and sculptures. However, he is more well-known for his construction projects. The total number of buildings he commissioned is currently unknown, but it ranges from 200 on the end most people accept to over 1,000 on the high end. Many of his construction projects were churches, and he had a new church built in nearly every town and village in his country. Many of his buildings are still around today, particularly the Principal Manor, home of the Princes and their families since it finished construction in 1719.

After Prince Jacopo II came his son, Emanuele II. Emanuele II had the longest reign of any of the Princes of Albenga, and one of the least interesting. A great many things happened outside of his country during this time period, but not too much went on within its borders. He continued some of his father’s building ambitions, though he only issued the construction of a few buildings himself. He died in 1770, leaving the throne to his nephew, Jacopo III.

Where Emanuele II’s reign had been boring, Jacopo III’s was anything but. During his reign, 13 of Britain’s colonies revolted and established their independence. Not long after, France faced its own revolts. Albenga, which borders France, faced some problems with this, particularly when Napoleone took over France. France invaded the rest of Italy through Albenga, establishing the Ligurian Republic, which would last until 1805, 4 years after the death of Prince Jacopo III, after which time the area was incorporated into France proper. After Jacopo III came his son, Emilio II. Prince Emilio II had a great deal on his plate, inheriting the throne of a nation that hardly existed. He pledged his forces and people to the forces fighting Napoleon, and in the end, Napoleon was defeated, and Emilio II returned to Albenga victorious. The date of his return to the city of Albenga, August 11, 1814, is celebrated to this day as Victory day.

After this victory, Prince Emilio II would commit the rest of his reign to strengthening the borders and army of his small principality, especially with the neighbouring threat of Savoy, who were constantly attempting to encroach on Albenganese territory. The Prince ordered the construction of 11 forts along the borders of his country and 2 in the colony of San Cassiano, as well as a national armoury in Albenga to manufacture guns for the army. By the time he died in 1831, Albenga had one of the most well-equipped militaries of Europe at the time.

Prince Emilio II was succeeded by his son, Umberto I. Umberto shared his father’s passion for the military, and continued to build up the defences of his nation. However, disaster would strike in 1848, as all of Europe fell into a blazing region of revolution. Prince Umberto I was assassinated by revolutionary forces, and his brother Valerio ascended to the throne, albeit briefly, as he was likewise assassinated by foreign revolutionaries later that year. After Prince Valerio came his cousin, Umberto II. Prince Umberto II managed to quell the revolutionary storm, at least for a time. He ruled for a decade before he resigned after suffering a mental breakdown from stress. After him came Valentino, who lasted less time than Umberto II. In 1861, the majority of Italian states unified as the Kingdom of Italy, and Valentino, like Umberto II, had a mental breakdown, causing him to abdicate two years later. His brother, Aurelio took over the throne, and proved to be more mentally sound and capable than his two predecessors.

Prince Aurelio led Albenga through the storm of Italian unification and managed to keep his principality independent. In 1866, war broke out between Austria and Italy, and Albenga joined the Austrian forces after they called for aid. The war, in the end, ended in an Italian victory over Austria, but Albenga was able to assert its independence nonetheless. In 1870, a small war broke out between Italy and Albenga, and Albenga was again victorious. After this war, Italy wouldn’t try to take Albenga again until World War One. Also of note about Prince Aurelio’s reign, is that slavery was outlawed in the colony of San Cassiano.

In 1875, just before the death of Prince Aurelio, Albenga established a colony on the island of Girba, off the coast of Tunisia. Later that year, Prince Aurelio died of dysentery and was succeeded by his son, Jacopo IV. Prince Jacopo IV was responsible for many great things for Albenga. He established a colony next to the African country of Liberia, calling it San Pietro, after the name the Portuguese explorer Soeiro da Costa had given it in the 15th century. He also established a colony around the villages of Mtwara and Lindi, north of Portuguese Mozambique, the colony being named Lindi. Aside from his colonial efforts, he was also a great patron of arts and inventions, and established a small photography studio and art colony in Albenga. It wasn’t as famous as its fellow European counterparts, but is well-respected in the modern day nonetheless. He was also a great patron of the military, and invited several renowned firearms designers to design guns for his principality. Albenga was one of the first European nations to have modern bolt-action rifles and early repeating pistols. Prince Jacopo IV was also responsible for introducing electricity to Albenga, and his Principal Manor was the first building in the country to be lit with electric lighting. He also introduced the constitution to Albenga, penning it himself.

In 1901, Prince Jacopo IV died at the age of 63. His son, Alberto, succeeded him. Alberto had big shoes to fill, but historians agree he did a pretty good job of filling them. Under Alberto, Albenga continued to flourish. Though he wasn’t as great a patron as his father, he continued to support the arts and the military. He spent a great deal of his personal wealth modernising many of the defences around his country, including the forts that had been created only a century before by Prince Emilio II. In 1914, just before WWI would begin, Prince Alberto died after a short bout with disease. His son, Giancarlo, succeeded to the throne.

Prince Giancarlo had been raised as a military man, and his lifelong education would come in handy almost immediately upon his accension to the throne. A month after he was coronated in Albenga, the Arch-Duke Franz Ferdinand of Austria was assassinated in Serbia, and Europe was quickly overcome with war. Prince Giancarlo quickly dispatched the military to the borders of Albenga, intending to keep his country neutral, but heavily protected. His foresight would prove useful, for in 1915, Italy invaded Albenga, hoping to finally take the last little country that had refused to join in unification 40 years before.

Albenganese forces were able to rebuff any Italian encroachment into sovereign territory during the duration of the Italian involvement with the Central powers, though Albenga remained otherwise neutral. After the war, relations between Italy and Albenga would continue to be strained until Marcurio Salvetti, of the Partito Fascista, seized the office of the Prime Minister in a bloodless coup. Prince Giancarlo was initially amicable with the Fascist cause, though officially he was opposed to it, so he offered only symbolic resistance to Salvetti. Though Salvetti was indeed a Fascist after the Italian fashion, and improved relations with the country of Italy under Mussolini, he still sought to remain independent. However, in 1938, as things were beginning to heat up in Europe, Prince Giancarlo stepped in and ousted the Prime Minister after he attempted to introduce several measures to reduce the title of Prince to a mere figurehead office, likely at the behest of Mussolini. Not long after this, however, Prince Giancarlo would die of natural causes, being replaced by his son, Jacopo V Lorenzo.

Jacopo was not the pure military man his father was, and was raised more by tacticians and scholars than by the military officers his father had been instructed by. He saw war brewing in Europe, and made efforts to defend his country should something happen, much like his father had done in 1914. In 1939, war again broke out, and again Albenga remained officially neutral, though the government and Prince did officially condemn the Nazi-Soviet invasion of Poland. In 1940, Italy declared war on Albenga. In spite of the country’s smaller numbers, they managed to bring the Italian invasion to a standstill, but were unfortunately unable to push them out of their borders entirely over the following 3 years, until Mussolini and his Fascist government were overthrown by Partisans in 1943, after which Italian forces were forced to leave Albenganese sovereign borders.

While the war was ongoing, Jacopo opened ports in both Albenga and San Cassiano to be used by Allied forces, in return receiving arms to fight against the Italians, as well as funnelling those arms to Partisans in Italy. In addition to this, Prince Jacopo opened the country’s borders to refugees from persecution in German occupied territories, many of whom remained even after the war ended and they were allowed to return home.

After the war ended in 1945, Prince Jacopo dedicated the rest of his reign to maintaining neutrality, refusing any aid from the Americans, and rebuilding the damaged territories of his country. With his assistance, industry flourished, and Albenga was an early centre for the booming field of electronics by end of the 50s. Unlike neighbouring Italy, which suffered from the Years of Lead during that period, and other such unrest, Albenga was mostly unaffected, for the most part. In 1965, after 3 years of investigation, the Prime Minister, Adriano Fanelli of the Unione Albenganese party, was convicted of a multitude of crimes, including corruption, embezzlement, solicitation, and other crimes, and sentenced to 25 years in prison. The Prince’s godson, Gustavo III, the Count of Seborga, was made interim Prime Minister, serving the rest of Fanelli’s 10 year term until 1970.

In 1976, Prince Jacopo V died after a battle with cancer, and was succeeded by his son, Filippo. Filippo, unlike his two predecessors, wasn’t heavily educated in military affairs, instead receiving instruction in management, business, and so forth. Like the later years of his father’s reign, he would devote himself to maintaining his country’s booming industries, and as the country had been a centre for electronics two decades earlier, Albenga was now a leader in the burgeoning field of computers, and would continue to be until the mid 90s, when most Albenganese computers manufacturers were purchased by foreign (namely, American) companies.

While its territory in Europe was going through all of this, some in the colony of San Cassiano were feeling neglected and forgotten, though the economy there was no slouch itself, being a premier destination for tourism, known for being a small piece of Italian culture in the middle of the Caribbean, as well as having a healthy sugar and rum industry. To address this, the Partito Communista Sancassinese, one of the oldest parties in the country, launched a campaign to have a referendum of independence. In 1980, the “No” side won the campaign, with a vote of 75% against independence, 23% in favour, and 2% indifferent. Their overwhelming defeat in the campaign led to the demise of the PCSC two years later.

In response to the support the Prince was shown in the referendum, he acknowledged that he had, and his predecessors had, indeed been rather neglectful towards the colony, and apologise, pointing out though, that his father and grandfather had had to contend with wars and invasions of the home country, but that he had no such excuse, and promised to help the Colony of San Cassiano. To that end, he established a government run cruise line, using some of his personal finances and donations from other nobles of the realm to fund the purchase of a top-of-the-line cruise ship that would operate from the Colony. Prince Filippo would do other things besides this to strengthen the Colony, but the fact that he had used some of his own money to fund the cruise ship greatly ingratiated him to the populace.

In 1983, Prince Filippo tried to launch a native Albenganese car brand, but unfortunately this venture would not see the end of the decade, only producing around 4,000 cars by the time FAA (Fabbrica Albenganese Automobili) ceased production of native-designed cars in 1991. Since then, the FAA factory has produced badge-engineered FIAT and Peugeot vehicles for the local market. Beginning in 1993, with the acquisition of Albetec, one of the top three technology brands in Albenga, by American corporation IBM, the tech industry has been largely dominated by foreign firms, though in recent years, the local industry has begun to rebound. Albenga, like Switzerland, is noted for its high standards of online privacy.

In spite of its position in Europe, the country has continuously refused to join the EU and NATO, and only reluctantly joined the UN in 1998. The country has continued to be neutral, not being involved with any global conflict since WWII ended in 1945, with the exception of some anti-piracy missions in the Indian Ocean.

‘’

List of Princes of Albenga from Emanuele Raffaele to present

Prince Emanuele I Raffaele Doria-Albenga, 1603-1631

Prince Marcantonio Jacopo, son of Emanuele, 1631-1636

Prince Emilio I Laureano, son of Emanuele, 1636-1649

Prince Jacopo I Luciano, son of Emilio, 1649-1669

Prince Constantino Franco, son of Jacopo, 1669-1691

Prince Jacopo II Emanuele, son of Constantino, 1691-1722

Prince Emanuele II Luciano, son of Jacopo II, 1722-1770

Prince Jacopo III Vincentio, nephew of Emanuele II, 1770-1801

Prince Emilio II Raffaele, son of Jacopo III, 1801-1831

Prince Umberto I Riccardo, son of Emilio II, 1831-1848*

Prince Valerio Pasquale, son of Emilio II, April 11, 1848-August 28 1848*

Prince Umberto II Franco, cousin of Valerio, 1848-1858*

Prince Valentino Marcurio, cousin of Umberto II, 1858-1863*

Prince Aurelio Emanuele, brother of Valentino, 1863-1875

Prince Jacopo IV Riccardo, son of Aurelio, 1875-1901

Prince Alberto Emanuele, son of Jacopo IV, 1901-1914

Prince Giancarlo Vincentio, son of Jacopo IV, 1914-1938

Prince Jacopo V Lorenzo, son of Giancarlo, 1938-1976

Prince Filippo Ernesto, son of Jacopo V, 1976-2002

Prince Emanuele III Maurizio, son of Filippo, 2002-current

Hereditary Prince Massimo Durante, son of Emanuele III, born January 3, 1994

*During 1848, Europe was embroiled in great revolutions, and several Albenganese Princes were either executed by revolutionaries or forced to abdicate. This continued after 1848 in Italy, as the unification wars began.

List of Prime Ministers of Albenga

Count Alfonso II Marcurio de Seborga, Count of Seborga, 1745-1786

Count Jacopo I Emanuele de Seborga, Count of Seborga, 1786-1802

Lord Vincentio Ernesto Doria-Albenga-Terzorio, Lord of Terzorio, 1802-1831

Marquess Salvatore I Ottavio de Vallecrosia, Marquess of Vallecrosia, 1831-1834

Lord Angelo III Adriano de Pontedassio, Lord of Pontedassio, 1834-1846

Count Gustavo I Massimo de Seborga, Count of Seborga, 1846-1856

Marquess Luciano II Ernesto de Vallecrosia, Marquess of Vallecrosia, 1856-1866

Lord Ugo IV Lazzaro Doria-Albenga-Terzorio, Lord of Terzorio, 1866-1876

Count Piero II Giancarlo de Chiusavecchia, Count of Chiusavecchia, 1876-1886

Lord Jacopo IV Donato, Lord of Vallebona, 1886-1896

Ugo Marcello Petri, UA, 1896-1906 (first non-noble Prime Minister)

Alfonso Mariano Giambelli,PP, 1906-1916

Piero Amadeo Tauriello, PP, 1916-1920 (assassinated by anarchists)

Lord Jacopo V Eraldo Gagini, Lord of Vallebona, UA, 1920-1930

Marcurio Adriano Salvetti, PF, 1930-1938*

Domenico Enrico Vecchi, UA, 1938-1950

Filippo Arsenio Zamperini, PP, 1950-1960

Adriano Marcurio Fanelli, UA, 1960-1965**

Lord Gustavo III Enrico de Seborga, Count of Seborga, 1965-1970

Alfredo Donato Bacchetti, UA 1970-1980

Federico Maurizio Fanelli, PP, 1980-1982***

Lord Jacopo VII Valerio Gagini, Lord of Vallebona, UA, 1982-1990

Alfredo Donato Bacchetti, UA, 1990-2000 (second term)

Valerio Marcurio Gattilusio, UA, 2000-2010

Piero Riccardo Salvetti, UA, 2010-current (next election in November 2020)

*M. Salvetti was a member of the Partito Fascista which ran the partisan government from 1928 until it was ousted by Prince Giancarlo in 1938.

**A. Fanelli was charged with several crimes, including corruption, and was sentenced to 25 years in prison. The Prince’s godson, Lord Gustavo III of Seborga, replaced him for the remainder of his term.

***F. Fanelli was A. Fanelli’s cousin. In 1982 he was convicted of smuggling drugs into Albenga on a government jet, as well as solicitation, and associating with the Mafia. He was replaced by Lord Jacopo VII of Vallebona for the remainder of his term.

PP: Partito del Popolo; UA: Unione Albenganese; PF: Partito Fascista

List of Governors of San Cassiano

Mariano Eraldo Doria-Albenga, 1616-1643

Vincentio Adriano Doria-Albenga, 1643-1672

Marcurio Riccardo Spinola, 1672-1681

Lord Amadeo I Gaetano Gagini, 1st Lord of Vallebona, 1681-1708

Lord Mariano I Luciano Gagini, 2nd Lord of Vallebona, 1708-1731

Lord Alberto II Marcurio Gattilusio, 2nd Lord of Bordighera, 1731-1764

Lord Amadeo I Valerio Cavanna, 2nd Lord of Soldano, 1764-1798

Lord Jacopo II Arsenio Gagini, 5th Lord of Vallebona, 1798-1824

Alfredo Aurelio Doria-Albenga, 1824-1848

Lord Jacopo III Riccardo, 6th Lord of Vallebona, 1848-1872

Vincentio Emanuele Doria-Albenga, 1872-1897

Piero Augustino Alessandri, PPSC, 1897-1902, first elected Governor

Giancarlo Marcurio Antonietti, PPSC, 1902-1907

Alberto Riccardo Pacelli, PPSC, 1907-1912

Martino Federico Vecchi, PCSC, 1912-1917

*I can't be bothered to make more names here yet

PPSC: Partito del Popolo Sancassinese; PCSC: Partito Communista Sancassinese

#this is the italian alternate history #i need to finish all the history that happened after ww1 lol

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valhallanrose · 3 years

Photo

Catriona Astoria Elspeth Canonach-Fenharrow

(Usually, and especially professionally, just Astoria Fenharrow)

character reference sheet by @hirodraga

bio sheet format by @arcanecadenza

Meaning of name:

Catriona - Greek origin. Gaelic variant of Catherine, meaning “pure”.

Astoria - English origin. Variation of the name Astor, meaning “hawk”.

Elspeth - Scottish origin. Variation of the name Elizabeth, meaning “chosen by god”.

The use of their name is a little funky, so to say. They prefer Astoria, and have gone by their middle name for as long as they can remember, but they aren’t necessarily opposed to being called Catriona. It would be surprising for them to hear you call them that casually, as it’s not how they typically introduce themself, but you can find their name in plenty of places. They sign all official documents with Catriona Canonach-Fenharrow, as it is their legal name and it is additionally hard to duplicate that signature, but they will still sign letters and casual correspondence as Astoria Fenharrow.

That being said, this isn’t a ‘true name’ situation. Astoria prefers being called Astoria to Catriona in all situations. To them, it feels more like who they are - the archaeologist with a love for bones and old books - rather than who they were expected to be as Catriona of Kintyre. Both names are a part of them, they acknowledge all sides of themself as the person they are, but Astoria is free to be as they wish to be.

Family: Senga Canonach (mother), James Sinclair (stepfather), Malcolm Canonach (maternal half-brother) Riordan Fenharrow (father), Myrna Catriona Canonach (maternal grandmother), Astor Canonach (maternal uncle), Sachairi Canonach (second cousin), Grace Canonach (first cousin once removed)

Astoria’s family tree is rather large, but the family that will be mentioned frequently throughout their story were listed above.

The direct family tree is included below, including their relationships in regard to Astoria.

You can find more about Astoria’s family, Clan Canonach, and Rosinmoor in this post here.

Catriona was born at the family estate of Balgaire’s Rest in Kintyre, a province that makes up the southeasternmost point of the nation of Rosinmoor. At the time of their birth, their great aunt Malvina Canonach held the Barony of Kintyre, along with her wife, Lady Consort Lorraine Tolmach.

Senga Canonach was nineteen when she met Riordan Fenharrow, who at the time was getting ready to take over his father’s fleet of merchant ships when he would eventually retire. They fell into a whirlwind romance, and by the end of the following summer, Catriona was born. They stayed together for a time, even going as far as to plan a wedding, but Riordan quickly came to learn the deeper he fell in that Senga was after more than what he had bargained for.

He was not unaware of her position as a Canonach. Senga was the niece of the standing Baroness, newly welcomed into Rosinmoor society as a lady of high station, and he thought himself privileged to be the apple of her eye. But Riordan was a clever man, and over the years, began to piece together a larger picture. Senga was possessive of their child, rarely letting them out of her sight, and seemed to bask in the recognition their child gained as the firstborn of a new generation in the Canonach family.

Catriona was born a mere four months before their cousin, Sachairi, landing them securely in the position of heir to the Barony when the time would come for their turn to take the crown. Senga had been distant after

No longer was Senga the woman he’d fallen in love with. Riordan had every intention to leave and to take Catriona with him, hoping that he could give his child freedom away from the life they were born into, but Senga stood between him and that goal. She threatened him, saying that if he took their child he would never know peace, no matter how far they went from Rosinmoor to try and start over. Catriona was her child, her legacy, and she would go as far as she had to in order to defend that. Senga had wanted a child she could raise as she wanted, to influence so that she could have a hand in how Rosinmoor was ruled given she was third in line for the title herself, and now that she

So when Catriona was four, Riordan Fenharrow left, taking his merchant’s fleet north to Glenarden to put some distance between himself and Senga in hopes that perhaps with time, he could be a sort of sanctuary for Catriona to turn to when they were old enough to understand.

The following two years would leave Catriona drifting. Senga, then between the ages of 23 and 25, had little in the way of maternal instinct, but their grandmother Myrna and their uncle Astor both stepped in to care for them without a moment’s hesitation. Astor had always been frail, but he was the first ‘father’ figure they could remember, and Myrna has been a constant figure in their life even as an adult.

Astor passed when Catriona was six, but Myrna continued to care for Catriona, though as they grew older their mother found it easier to care for them than she did when they were a child. But they were rarely allowed to leave home, even to go to Rosafearn a few miles away, and they craved some sort of change and to explore all the places they read about in the books they devoured in and out of lessons.

When Catriona was eleven, Baroness Malvina chose to step down, but the line of succession became a little scrambled.

Malvina had an older brother, Ualan, who had abdicated and passed her the Barony - but his children were the oldest of the next generation and had first claims to the title.

Grace and Quinn both abdicated. At 44 and 41 respectively, with families of their own, they thought it best to not disrupt the lives they’d always known when they’d never intended to take the Barony for themselves. As the next living eldest, Senga took the Barony, and became Baroness Canonach of Clan Kintyre. She was thirty then, and Astoria, merely eleven.

Senga had always hoped to claim power in one way or another - if not herself, then through Catriona, as the heir apparent to the Barony when Senga would one day step down. Myrna, however, who had spent more time parenting Catriona than her own mother, had been a constant defender of their say in the way they got to spend their days.

At thirteen, Catriona learned the truth, learned that their mother had only wanted them so that she might get her hands on control, on influence, for no reason more. They’d never felt close with their mother, but to hear it confirmed was heartbreaking. They ran to Myrna, who realized her daughter was beyond reasoning by then, and Myrna decided that it would be best for Catriona to get some distance and to see the world beyond the boundaries of Rosinmoor.

This would become Catriona’s first journey, taking them to Prakra, where Myrna was assigned to work at a dig site in the Prakran jungle among a team of archaeologists. It was their first breath of fresh air, and they remember sitting on the edge of the dig pit with notebook in their lap, taking notes their grandmother dictated as she sifted through the artifacts that had slowly come to surface. This pattern would continue for years, with visits back to Rosinmoor to keep their mother appeased as they fell in love with the world and with travel.

At sixteen, Catriona’s life came to a crossroads. Based on the line of succession and their position as the oldest of the children of the Canonach clan, they were of the age to officially be recognized as heir apparent. No longer were they simply Catriona Canonach - they were therefore Luxe Catriona Astoria Elspeth Canonach-Fenharrow of Clan Canonach, descendant of Cliamon the Great and heir to the Barony of Kintyre. No longer could they be just themself, but they felt they had to fulfill a role, to shape themself in a way a future Baronet should be.

The realization, with the diadem upon their brow, was absolutely terrifying.

On the night of their coronation ceremony, Catriona ran from Rosinmoor, packing a bag and leaving their home in the company of their grandmother. They didn’t care where they went, they just needed to get away from it all, refusing to go back despite the scandal that arose from their disappearance.

Sixteen and full of hope, they chose then to go not by Catriona Canonach, but by Astoria Fenharrow - a name they could make their own, rather than the identity that had been forced upon her by her mother.

Their journey across the continent took the pair to the Bulan Mountains, where Myrna had once again been tasked to survey a possible historical site by the Republic of Galbrada. It was Astoria’s first time officially titled as an assistant, and they were eager to survey on their own, ready to start a new path for themself.

Until they fell in a hole.

Astoria had stumbled upon the site in question, through part of the ruins which had given way once their weight had come upon it and revealed the catacombs beneath it. And while they were thrilled in hindsight at their accidental discovery of the Bulani Labyrinth (which is credited to them, fortunately and unfortunately), there was a very desperate situation at hand: they were trapped.

The walls were stone, and given their grandmother’s tendency to want to take notes at sometimes the most random moments, they had chalk in her pack - so they began to walk, marking the turns they’d taken as she went. They thought it’d be smart to be able to find their way back out if they ended up not finding an exit like they hoped, but alas, things would not go as planned.

They found their way into an antechamber, decorated with lavish murals, and a simple jump from being startled by a spider they weren’t expecting meant they dropped their lantern and shattered the only source they had at that point in the labyrinth. They stumbled blindly until they came to a pool of liquid, and in a moment of relief, drank deeply from it under the impression it was water.

It very much was not.

The thing about the people of ancient Bulan was that they’d struck a bargain - specifically, their king did, asking for power from the Devil in exchange for a sacrifice. When the bargain was struck, the magic in question was tied to a pool of blood that was so heavily laced with magic, keeping it preserved until the day Astoria drank from it more than eight hundred years later.

(There is an extensive history of Bulan tied to this post here, but given that that alone is quite long I’m hoping to save you some reading time unless you really want to go on a lore deep dive.)

They don’t really remember much after the pool.

The next memory they have is waking up, being attended to by Myrna, and spending multiple days being absolutely fucking terrified of the nightmares they were having until it got to a point they were staying awake as much as possible.

And, well, when you aren’t sleeping, you begin to learn. And when Astoria realized that in the emptiness of the night, when all were asleep, that they could hear the pounding of every heart in the encampment...they thought they were losing their mind. But this was the earliest days of their sangromancy coming to being, and though Myrna didn’t know how to help her grandchild, she did know somewhere that could.

Their grandmother took them to the Republic of Galbrada, where Astoria enrolled at the academic facilities of the Whitethorn Citadel and found themself under the close mentorship of their tutors.

They stayed there from the time they were sixteen until they were nineteen, and the longer they spent there, they realized that they were nothing more than a creature to study in the perspective of their peers. They felt themself growing more and more withdrawn, and eventually left, realizing the only path they would be offered was one not unlike the one they’d been trying to escape from: a life where all choices were made for them, rather than considering what they might have wanted. The Galbradans feared what they might become if allowed to learn about their curse, but Astoria

Rather than return to Kintyre, Astoria went to Auchmara on High, a safe haven for magicians like themself who needed help finding their way. It was a sanctuary, a place for them to find their way, and slowly they began to learn how to control their sangromancy rather than suppress it like they’d been forced to all along.

After reconnecting with their grandmother - though they’d been communicating, it had been years since they’d seen each other in person - Astoria began to travel again, getting roped into some misadventures involving pirates and cursed artifacts that allowed them to come into who they were meant to be rather than who they were born to be.

Astoria moved to Vesuvia only within the last few years, taking up a position to preserve and collect items for the collection at the Palace - and, hopefully, they’ll be able to sweet talk Nadia (or Lucio) into founding a museum for the history of Vesuvia that they’ve been planning for pretty much since they took the job and found out how full storage is. However, they still do a fair amount of traveling, and it’s unlikely they’ll stop anytime soon.

Favorite meal: Sticky toffee pudding

Favorite drink: Chamomile tea

Favorite flower: Harebells

Birthday: September 6th

Age: Thirty-one

Zodiac: Virgo Sun, Scorpio Moon, Sagittarius Rising

MBTI type: ISTP

I wanted to live the life - a different life. I didn’t want to go to the same place every day and see the same people and do the same job. I wanted interesting challenges. - Harrison Ford

Patron Arcana:

Major - The Devil

Upright - The Devil knows there is power in perception. He binds those who cannot see their path to freedom. Shake off his veil; you are not trapped. There is always a way out of even the darkest places.

Reversed - The Devil loses influence over his flock as the chains of bondage drop from his tight grasp. It is time to clean house; purge the things that harm you from your life. Take back your power.

Minor - Eight of Pentacles

Upright - Your attention to detail and willingness to learn make you an ideal student. Your raw talent can be honed - it may be time to embark on a new venture or learn a new skill if you have not already begun.

Reversed - You have become mired in the details, unable to see the big picture. Your focus has become a detriment. Take a step back and look at all you have accomplished. Refocus yourself on the things that matter.

Gender: Nonbinary

Uses they/them and she/her pronouns

Prefers gender neutral terms (Mx., partner, grandchild, etc)

Would normally ask you don’t call her your girlfriend if you’re dating but there is a big romantic soft spot for ‘lover’

Orientation: Demisexual

Languages spoken: Moorish (the language of the people of Rosinmoor), Galbradian (from the Republic of Galbrada), Prakran, Zadithi, Vesuvian, and Scourge fluently - they can read the language of the Kokhuri and several dead languages for the sake of transcription, but their speaking prowess is all guesswork. They think it’s fun to try and speak Old Galbradian or Bulani, and while she thinks she’s close, she doesn’t have anyone to really chat with, since...they’re dead languages.

Magical Specialties: Sangromancy, otherwise known as blood magic. Astoria’s branch of sangromancy does cover the manipulation of blood, both inside and outside of the body, but toes the line of other life-based magical practices. They are usually extremely aware of the presence of others, particularly the sounds of beating hearts, and their blood makes magic cast with it particularly potent. They’re very well versed in curses and countercurses as a result, which has been useful when obtaining objects with possibly shady backstories.

This is a magic that has its roots in their arcane patron, the Devil - not a bargain struck by them, but one struck in Bulan many years before, as previously stated.

Familiar: Nathaira, a Shetland Sheepdog. Holds the title of world’s best girl (in Astoria’s humble opinion) and acts as Astoria’s canine PA. Usually, if you see one, the other isn’t far behind.

#astoria fenharrow #yes i posted this before but i had to do some major overhauls to fit their updated canon #housekeeping time

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malethirsty · 4 years

Text

Loyalty - Marcel Gerard

Summary: With Mystic Falls out of sight and New Orleans in view, you decide to make friends with the locals. Helpful when said friend turns out to be the King

Warnings: M/M smut (21+), Bareback (Wrap Before you Tap!)

When you all arrived at the Mikaelson’s old kingdom, it was nearing lunchtime, so you expected the streets would be empty, however New Orleans was bustling with activity, whether people were visiting shops, eating at café’s or painting in the streets. You winded your way through the French Quarter “Klaus, where are we going?” You asked “The King’s Quarters, I hope they are hospitable to their original king” Klaus explained. Eventually the group reached a courtyard “Hello! Anyone there? The conquering hero returns!” Kol rolled his eyes “Niklaus, no ones here, you can stop hamming it up.” “Look who’s talking!” Tyler snapped back “Guys! We’ve all had a long night, we don’t need to be at each others throats.” You said “Look if we split up & try to find supernatural elements, maybe we’ll find the king in the quarter, “Stefan, you have the biggest chance of draining someone, so I need you to mind our bags, if something happens, we’ll call you to help, everyone else, move out!” With the plan in order Klaus took Rebekah, Elijah escorted a still grumpy Tyler & Kol, and you moved out by yourself, armed with the various detection skills you learnt from The Council & Klaus.

As you wondered the streets for a while, you came across a karaoke bar. Deciding to give it a shot/break, you headed into the roarcus crowd, which mainly consisted of women, which you understood once you glanced to the stage. A beautiful man was performing ‘How You Like Me Now?’ He was dark skinned, had the brightest smile you had ever seen & such a great energy, you found yourself entranced by the man, eventually he saw you & flashed a very flirty wink and a grin in your direction which melted you, how you wanted him to fuck you, then Klaus might turn him so he could be in this open relationship you & Klaus had. Eventually he finished his number & went over to get a drink, you hastened over while the women went back to their business “Sir, excuse me” the man turned “Hello sweet thing, I saw you in the crowd. Here for an autograph? Or something else maybe?” He was very forward but had such a swaveness that you couldn’t be flustered, he let you answer his questions. “Maybe another time, I’m new in town and I needed some help around.” “Sure thing Mr.” “Y/N.” “Well Mr. Y/N I’m Marcel Gerard and something tells me I shouldn’t keep a gentleman like you waiting.” He gulfed his drink down and led you out.

You spent a good time with this new man, as you walked through the Quarter, getting a good idea of where everything was “Thanks Marcel for all the help, but I need to ask you about The King’s Quarters.” He stopped “What? There is no King’s Quarters in New-“ “Look Marcel, your charming to get me to shake me off your back, but I see the daylight ring on your finger, the crescent of the Mikaelson’s is old and faded to blend in with the public, but it’s still there.” Marcel grinned “Well ain’t you clever babe.” “Well after all this is settled maybe you can call me more than babe, but until then, I need to know where the King of New Orleans is.” Marcel let out a gutteral laugh “Baby boy, you’re looking right at him.” You smiled “Thank you, your grace, let’s walk and talk my situation.” You messaged Klaus on the way over ‘I found him, get back to King’s Quarters, also he’s very flirty, do with that what you will’

You crossed back to the King’s Quarters & found the entire group waiting. Marcel crossed over, locking eyes with the hybrid “Klaus” “Marcel” he responded “Wait, THE Marcel?” Klaus had told you about him, the only vampire he ever made, the one he though Mikael had slaughtered. Marcel grinned “This one you have Klaus, he’s smart, don’t let him go.” Klaus smirks “Wasn’t planning on it, never will.” “Been a long time roughly a hundred years since papa ran you out of town.” Your eyes widened, this was not a good way to start a conversation “Yes he did, recently I turned daddy into dust with Tyler’s help, so that takes care of the hunting issue.” Tyler beamed happily which Marcel noticed “You made your own loyal hybrids.” “My fellow creatures, with the help of Y/N. So I’m no longer the lonely King you knew, now I’m a fully fledged hybrid.” Marcel stood to ponder this “If I had known you were back, I’d have thrown you a damn parade.” Marcel broke into a happy laugh which Klaus reciprocated and the two hugged “Well, I guess I owe my sire a drink.” “Amongst other things” Marcel grinned at Klaus’s proposition “Head upstairs the dining room is the ending room on the left” you turned to Kol & Stefan “You two need to handle our bags, I still need to calm you down Kol.” “No matter sweetheart, I have to get ready for a date anyway.” You spluttered “You didn’t comepl a townsperson did you?” Tyler silently laughed not wanting to erk Kol’s wrath “No, I’m capable of making men want me online without having to do some eye magic.” grinning as you turned, you went into Marcel’s pad. A dining room/kitchen was presented, with a long hallway, connecting the bedrooms & the study room. Extremely tired following a long drive & the attempts to find Marcel, you picked a far off room, had Tyler drop your bags in before you yourself dropped off.

After what felt like a blissful sleep, you woke up to the sounds of men shouting: Klaus and Marcel. Agitated, you flapped a pillow over your ears, but couldn’t block it out. Eventually you heard distinctly Elijah, trying to get them to calm down. Once both raised their tones to Elijah, you realised they weren’t being happily rowdy, they were arguing. You stood up, exited your room, not caring your hair was tossled & stomped up to the dining room “Guys, I can hear you screaming down the hallway, what’s going on?” “Marcel is being difficult” Klaus started “Difficult? It wouldn’t be if what you were asking wasn’t public suicide!” Marcel retaliated “So given none of you want to be direct, Elijah will you explain?” “Gladly” Elijah returned to you “Klaus was King of New Orleans and given he was chased out by Mikael, thinks he deserves his throne back, as it would give us protection against Esther if she retaliates, however Marcel has been ruling since he left and won’t give it up.” Now everything made sense “Key word: IF.” Marcel responded “Also there’s protection on the Quarter.” “Not enough if we were able to get in easily.” Marcel brushed this off, “You avoided your authority since you left, why should I even give you the throne back?” “Because I was forced out against my will, I never abdicated, I wanted to return but I had to deal with Mikael and my hybrids.” “There is an entire legacy left by me, how could you ever master it in a day.” “I would master it in less & need I remind you Marcellus, I also have a legacy, all aligning these rooms, even standing before me, however this tapestry of it is showing it’s maker clear disrespect.” “How dare you! You may be my maker but here in New Orleans, I am your king & I demand respect!” Klaus & Marcel’s voices had continued to rise throughout their exchange so they didn’t notice yours bellowing “FOR FUCK’S SAKE, BOTH OF YOU STOP!” You yelled. Klaus & Marcel taken aback, fell silent “Thank you! Now Klaus, we can do this discussion without it turning into screaming, you’ve done it with me. Marcel, a bit of thinking could help everything. Technically Klaus did not abdicate, whenever a leader goes off to a war or on a visit somewhere, they don’t suddenly abdicate, so Klaus should be king, now he has returned.” Klaus grinned but you shot him a warning look, causing it to fall “Now, no one is trying to discount what you have done Marcel, you took something that burnt & made it incredible, however Klaus returning to power means massive protection and Marcel, if your guests are protected here, then why were we able to walk straight in?” Marcel’s slight smile when you complimented his legacy fell at this. “Now, you supernatural’s can process things fast, but for me it’s been less than a full day then when we started running from Mystic Falls, my own home for 22 years! And I have put up with it and not complained, but instead of respect, I’m met with men having a cock fight over something that could be resolved if you weren’t shoving sticks up your ass! Elijah moderate this damn conversation, I’m leaving. And do not call me back unless you have reached a fucking agreement!” You stormed away from the compound, out into the New Orleans night.

You spent a good deal of time looking around, you had purchased a nice set of beads from a trinket shop, and had looked around at the paintings of art. Whilst there you met a woman named Cami, who took you to one of the restaurants and without mentioning everything, you gave her a rundown of what was occurring “Well your partner should know that Marcel is incredibly stubborn. He won’t stop till he gets his way.” “Well that’s marvellous to me!” You said very sarcastically, Cami noticing gave you a hug “I’m sure it’ll work out.” At that exact moment, Elijah went through the door & walked up to you, taking you aside “Klaus & Marcel have worked things out, they are waiting for you at the King’s Quarters.” You nodded, said your goodbyes to Cami and walked back with Elijah. You entered the King’s Quarters and saw Klaus & Marcel sitting together at the table ‘At least they’re sitting together with no sign of a scuffle’ you thought. Elijah excused himself as you sat down “So? What’s the decision” Marcel cleared his throat “Klaus is the king, he’ll have a time of growing into the role, as I’ll help him get used to the supernatural community and how things are run. I’ll stay on as a Vampire advisor.” “See! That wasn’t so hard was it!” You chimed in “I could see how you’d think that, but you know of my history right, how I turned” you nodded “You were 21 years old, a new life on the horizon & you were attacked by a racist. Klaus saved you, and aware you could be struck down by the local racist group, turned you and gave you the skills to take them out.” “Exactly, I’m not the guy to run off from a fight, so me doing this is difficult and rare.” You nodded “It’s a great thing you’re doing Marcel, and we’ll make sure you are still given the respect you deserve.” Marcel subtly grinned while laughing ‘Well, I know you will.” “And what’s that supposed to mean?” You asked.

“Love, there is still a condition that this deal was struck on.” You turned to Klaus as he made his statement “And what was that?” “Marcel wants in on our open relationship.” You turned to Marcel “Yeah, that’s what swayed me, you see I could smell your arousal as you watched me perform and that made my cock hard, if you hadn’t gotten me to take you around, I would have pulled you into the bathroom & fucked you. I also liked how you swung me round when I was arguing with Klaus, you have guts, I can see why my sire likes you. And now, I want to have you as well. So what’s it gonna be, take it or leave it?” He whispered the last part in your ear “You said you were the king, show me that power. Make my mind up for me.” Marcel threw you both onto the table & kissed you, speedily taking both your clothes off “You want Some hot chocolate babe?” “Yes sir, I want every drop.” He grinned “Then suck my cock.” He moved upwards to your mouth as you sucked his cock “Oh fuck!” Marcel moaned “Yeah, like that, suck it down.” As Marcel got his cock sucked by you, he looked forwards to see Klaus stroking himself, his portege and his lover engaged with each other had made him painfully hard. Marcel pulled himself off you & lifted you up to see Klaus “Look what you do to him! The big string hybrid, stroking his cock for you, for us!” You kissed Marcel again, running your hands down his muscular chest “Fuck, you’re so beautiful!” You moaned, Marcel grinned “Well, gotta make my man happy.” You sucked his balls, causing Marcel to throw his head back and scream out “OH FUCK YES! THAT’S IT Y/N! KEEP GOING & YOU’LL MAKE ME CUM!” You pulled off, and heard Marcel whine “Shoot your load in my ass Marcel, I want you.” Marcel’s whine turned into excitement, he grinned before slamming you onto the table before thrusting in.

You let out a massive groan, he was massive, probably as big as Klaus. You set a nice rhythm with Marcel spinning his hips, smacking into your prostate. “Oh fuck!” You moaned out “That’s it baby, fall apart from my dick!” Marcel groaned in such a passionate beautiful way, you leant up to kiss him. “You look so beautiful Marcel.” He grinned “You are as well, look at you, all covered in sweat, gleaming as much as me.” Marcel suddenly changed to vampire speed, making you cry out as you were brought nearly to your end, when he suddenly returned to normal speed “What the?-” you started but Marcel placed his index finger on your lips “Nah uh Y/N, remember you wanted me to show you how I can be King, and this King is benevolent, he wants you to come with him, and I’m nowhere near done.” He shot a grin, pearly white teeth agleam and continued his torturous pace. Your toes curled from how good Marcel was dicking you down, and you clenched them around the table for a grip. Sensing your tenseness from his powerful thrusts, Marcel grinned down at you and persisted relentlessly "Fuck:, he groaned out, throwing his head back, when he turned back down, you saw the familiar black veins under his eyes, he wanted to feed. "Sorry Y/N, you smell mouth-watering, I've gotta have you." he said, lowering himself down to your neck, "Then take me" you softly cooed, turning your head to the side, granting him better access. Marcel did not waste time and struck, drinking you down deeply as he continued to fuck you. The strength of Marcel's pace and his and soon you noticed you were approaching your end “Fuck Marcel, I’m gonna cum!”, the vampire withdrawing from your neck, a trail of blood oozing from his mouth “That’s right Y/N, cum for me, shoot it over me.” You moaned as you did as he asked, shooting your load over his chest, he scooped it up & tasted it “Damn, your load is as good as your blood!” He kissed you, both of you now covered in blood and seed as Marcel resumed his brutal pace, making you cry out even more as Marcel bucked, determined to reach his peak as well. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum! OH FUCK YES!” Marcel yelled as he shot his load inside you. Falling back onto the table, you both drew in breath, Marcel leaning down to kiss you “My king, he’s all yours.” He zipped up to his wide open room, this time the observer and watched the hybrid walk over to you “Well love, when you get your strength back, want to break the table?” You grinned, leaning up to kiss the hybrid.

#Marcel Gerard #Male Reader #Marcel Gerard x Male Reader #Marcel Gerard Smut #The Originals #The Originals Smut #Loyalty

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