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ahamkara-apologist · 7 months

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you have GOT to post guardian pics I'm begging you. feed us (me?) information about your characters. I must know. it is imperative

TYSM FOR ENABLING ME ANON BC THEY ARE MY BLORBOS AND IM VIBRATING ABOUT THEM. buckle the fuck up because this is gonna be a long fucking post

Okay first up is Aeris Sharphawk- aro/ace, he/him. he's my main character, my hunter, and the Young Wolf of my timeline.

He’s half-Awoken, half-Human (I’ll get to that in a moment, he’s actually an older oc of mine that I ported over from Bloodborne whose bastard nature needed a D2 equivalent), and the older half-brother to my solar titan, Marcelline Attenbough- one of the few little remnants from their past life that they were able to discover in a diary on Marcie’s corpse when they were rezzed together (which occurred because their ghosts are twins). He’s autistic, lawful neutral, and vastly prefers using Darkness over Light because of sensory issues; his ghost (Hoarfrost, previously Mercury) mods his helmets to drastically reduce noise, but he can’t help how Arc tingles, Solar burns, and Void numbs. Tends to spend most of his battles either hyperfocused or dissociated to deal with it. As for the lawful neutral title, that’s because he doesn’t fight for the Vanguard because of a loyalty to humanity, but exclusively for the survival of the Last City and everyone in it. This extended to House Light and the Cabal under Caital instantaneously, and would do so to Eramis if she so chose, because he really just doesn’t take most things personally. He's sometimes derogatorily called 'the Vanguard's Hound' because of this.

He’s skilled with a bow, and is cursed with a resting haunted stare that can rival even the fiercest bird of prey- hence his title, given to him because his last name wasn’t present in the little diary that Marcie had when they were rezzed. Personality wise, he’s quiet, stoic, extremely efficient at what he does, fiercely protective of those he loves, and deeply curious about the unknown- though if you don’t know him, you’d never be able to guess it, because he struggles deeply with facial expressions and tone, giving him the appearance that he’s ruthlessly cold and unfeeling (pretty much the Guardian we see in game). Because of this, he tends to do much better with Eliksni than most of humanity- bar the Awoken, though Mara makes him deeply uncomfortable- and is thus far more comfortable with them. He’s the moon to Marcie’s sun, and helps keep her in check, for despite her cheery personality, she has a very strong sense of justice and a penchant for impulsive, temperamental behavior when she thinks that justice has been wronged. This goes both ways, however, as Aeris is the very definition of ‘curiosity killed the cat’; he voluntarily gets bit by venomous snakes at venom labs to see how immunity/allergies develops over time, and has a fascination with the Vex that got him a ‘needs watching’ report after he nearly jumped into a pool of radiolaria to see what would happen. The older-brother affection isn’t related to just Marcie, though; he’s unofficially adopted Eido as his younger sister (or kid? Because uhhh that curiosity of his has extended to fucking Misraaks once or twice), and is a mentor figure of sorts to Crow, though he’s unaware that Crow idolizes him; he only hunted Uldren down to keep Marcie out of trouble, as he didn’t like Cayde and was neutral on Uldren, so seeing Crow for the first time didn’t bother him at all. Tutored on occasion by Osiris, and thus has a very deep respect for him.

People other than Marcie that he likes: Zavala, Ikora, Osiris, Eido, Misraaks, Eris, and Variks, Petrichor-12 (oc), Viper-4 (oc, lightless guardian), Crow

People he dislikes: Cayde, the Spider, Clovis Bray, Savathun, Mara Sov, Petra Venj (can’t read her very well), anyone who is loud or insistent or confusing

Primary class (Dark): Stasis

Primary class (Light): Arcstrider

Motifs: Dark, cool blue/silver, viper and hawk symbolism

Likes: Learning about things, working with the Eliksni, being good at being a hunter, bows/glaives/swords, playing with Strand, Gambit (surprisingly)

Dislikes: Crucible, loud noises, fusion rifles, snipers because of the kick (despite being very good with them), shotguns, fans and most other guardians

Fun fact: When Hoarfrost and Solaris found them, it was in a frigid part of old Russia, with Aeris holding Marcie close to his chest with his back to the door- they had frozen to death while trying to keep each other warm, and were under a thick layer of permafrost. When they were risen, they found out their names, their relationship to each other, and the fact that their father was a cheating bastard who produced Aeris after screwing an Awoken woman for the novelty of it because Marcie had a little diary in her front pocket, which had been somewhat preserved by the cold. Both their ghosts theorize that the reason why Aeris is so drawn to Stasis and Marcie to Solar is because of how they died, though neither guardian will say anything about it. He can also speak near-fluent Eliksni.

Then there’s Marcie, younger half-sister to Aeris and the sun to his moon; she/her, Solar Titan, lesbian, lawful good. Where he is quiet and introverted, she is loud and bombastic, and where he likes to dart in and strike down his enemies from afar, she likes to punch. I just recently made her in Destiny because the character creation doesn't really match how I see her, hence why she's got Arc on here

(closer to her actual face minus the blue eyes; this is a very old bloodborne pic)

Unlike her half-brother, Marcie is a full human, and- according to the diary she rezzed with- was objectively her father's favorite, though the feeling was not mutual, and their relationship was strained by her taking so kindly to the bastard son he tried to send away. Compared to Aeris, she's bright, bubbly, and outgoing, but has a fierce temper, and is quick to snap if something has pushed her too far-think a jack russel's terrier of a human being. Her ghost's name is Solaris (previously Quicksilver), and she prefers the Light and Solar by far. Her preferred method of combat is to hit first, ask questions later, which can be incredibly effective or incredibly dangerous depending on who's on the opposite end of her wrath. Her and Aeris share many quests together, with me typically attributing all the seasons that I didn’t play to Marcie, given that I didn’t make a Destiny character for her for the longest time.

She was best friends with Cayde, and was so devastated by his death that Aeris had to go instead, as she would have killed anything and everything in vengeance without a second thought. She did, however, kill Riven- something that Aeris himself was somewhat reluctant to do,given his fascination with the Ahamkara. She's stubborn as a mule, surprisingly strong despite her small stature (well, small-ish), and is an absolute massive lesbian, with her type specifically being 'big strong ladies who can kill me'- which was primarily why she wasn't allowed to fight Eramis, or other big hotties, as she has a pretty hardcore crush on her. (The second reason was that she would have stood and bickered with Eramis about the ethics of what she was doing until either one or the other yielded). Instead, she was assigned to work with Misraaks to evacuate House Light refugees, which ended up being a fortuitous partnership with the coming of the Endless Night. Now, her primary work for the Vanguard consists of aiding Eliksni refugees, along with general alien-human politics and tackling xenophobia, as well as working on being an apprentice Splicer. She is very, VERY passionate about equal rights and will drag you to the Crucible if you fight her- and good fucking luck winning against her, because she fucking loves the Crucible and will beat your ass everytime. She’s somewhat of a local celebrity in that reguard

Her deep fondness for her brother comes primarily from the fact that he is one of the few people to take her seriously without either asking her to calm down or come off as patronizing- he's also a well of stability to her excitable moods, the voice of reason to her hyperempathy. While he keeps her from biting off more than she can chew, she acts as his translator + guide, yanking him back onto the path of sanity if he starts to wander into the Deep, and helping him with dysfunction things that Hoarfrost can’t do. She also enjoys working through the data he collects, even if she has no desire to go searching for it herself, so they make a good pair- even if, like most siblings, they will argue over every little thing and sometimes drive each other up the walls with their stubbornness.

I've already mentioned that she got along with Cayde, but her other friends at the tower are Shaxx, Drifter, Saint-14, and Ada-1. Misraaks is her mentor, as well as one of the few people who can talk her down from stupid shit, with uh…questionable results. And while she couldn't stand the sight of Crow when Aeris dragged him back, she managed to befriend him reguardless, mostly because he was so different from the Uldren she remembered that she couldn’t help but accept him for who he was. She often went out drinking with him and Amanda, and was devastated when she died.

People she likes: Cayde, Shaxx, Drifter, Saint-14, Ada-1, Misraaks, Crow, Amanda (rip), Caiatl

People she dislikes: Uldren Sov, The Osmium Siblings, The Spider, Lakshmi-2, anyone against the Eliksni or people who are rude to Aeris, Calus

Likes: Crucible, Gambit, fucking around with weapons in new and creative ways, going out to drink with friends, playfully flirting, helping with construction work around the Eliksni District, playing around with the Light, moths and other fuzzy creatures

Primary Class (Light): Solar

Primary Class (Dark): Strand

Dislikes: Fighting Eliksni, any exploding enemies that she can’t punch, bows because Aeris will always be better than her at using them, the fact that Aeris fucked Misraaks at one point for science, being alone, her inability to score a girl who isn’t a war criminal

Motif: crimson and gold, bears or lion with eagle wings

Fun fact: Her grasp on Eliksni is actually more fluent than Aeris, and she spends a good deal of her time in the Tower socializing with people while he’s off doing…whatever.

Okay, now onto Petrichor-12, who decided to nope out of being a Guardian so I deleted their slot to make Marcie before I really did anything to dazzle them up

Petrichor-12 is a now-retired guardian that actually came from a dream I had before I even played Destiny. They/them or he/him, neutral good, Void titan, ghost is seldom-speaking and called Whisper. Neutral good. I attribute them with D1 content, so they’re the guardian that killed Crota and Oryx, though Marcie and Aeris were also there to help.

Petrichor is an older, somewhat quiet, melancholy do-gooder that's been haunted by guilt ever since they found out the memories of who they were via the Deep Stone Crypt- a bodyguard for Clovis Bray that was turned to a path of anger, abuse, and violence after agreeing to be tested on for power, and got corrupted by the Darkness. This, paired with being rezzed in the Dark Ages, means that they have a lot of trauma surrounding violence, power, and the dilemma of being made to kill when all you want to do is save people. As such, Eramis's predicament troubles them greatly, and while it was them who gunned her down in conjunction with Aeris, they often found themselves returning to her frozen body on Europa to talk to her (presumed corpse) about Darkness corruption in a sort of venting monologue-advice system, which worked both as a way of fending off their troubles as well as keep an eye on her state- though now that she’s defrosted they’ve vowed never come near her again out of embarrassment.

While retired, they are a stalwart defender of anyone who needs it and a keeper of peace, driven partially by a genuine desire to do good and a need to prove themselves not the person that they used to be. No longer able to mingle with other guardians or humanity at large due to PTSD from what they learned, they live in the Botza district as an ambassador between the Eliksni and humanity, they like to knit + quilt in their free time, teaching whichever hatchlings will listen and getting tutored on weaving by old Wolves in return. They're also 6'3", so…lorge. Zavala and Misraaks are the two people they talk to the most outside of the Eliksni refugees, and they drop by to say hi to Eva and knit with her whenever they have the chance. The war with the Witness is threatning to bring them out of retirement, something that they are deeply unhappy with.

People he likes: Namrask, Misraaks, Saladin, Zavala, Ikora, Osiris (recently), Marcie and Aeris, Saint-14, Eris (complicated)

People they dislike: Themselves, Osiris (formerly), Eramis (reminds them of themselves), Ghaul, Oryx, Xivu Arath, Clovis Bray, anyone who goads them to fight, Elsie and Ana Bray by association, Rasputin

Motif: gold and sapphire blue, used to have a gryphon motif but stopped wearing it because they don’t want to be recognized as the Kingkiller

Likes: Knitting, sewing, weaving, gardening, really anything restorative they can do with their free hands that forces their mind not to wander

Class (Light): Void, sometimes Arc

Class (Dark): no.

Dislikes: War, fighting, being a guardian, everything that has to do with what they used to be, anything Braytech sciences, the cumulative trauma from the Dark Ages and seeing recordings of who they used to be in the Deep Stone Crypt, their own fear of themselves

Fun fact: Petrichor-12 can speak Eliksni fluently, having modulated their voice and hearing to be able to incorporate the subsonic clicks and chirps in their speech, and is now working on learning Ulurant despite not at all liking the Cabal empire

Ash: Another dream character of mine, and my newest Guardian (so she’s somewhat of a wip). She/her, solar + void warlock, chaotic neutral to lawful evil depending on her mood. Pansexual but bitchless. Rezzed in the tail end of the Dark Ages, just long enough for her to see how horrible everything was but not long enough to see the true extent of it. Scholar of the Light, and most recently a scholar of the Dark as well.

Ash is a warlock with an awful temper, a moral code that changes on a whim, and a ravenous appetite for knowledge that comes at the cost of everyone else, including herself. Her ghost (an anxious and caring little lass) is called Nutmeg, and is pretty much the only indicator that she has a soft spot. Ash dedicated herself to learning how to get closer to the Light, but unlike the more conventional meditations that people usually do to, she was inspired by ancient Greek priestesses and decided for a more unconventional route- by doing hard drugs. By getting either extremely drunk or very high, she claims that she overcomes the need for meditation (or, rather, bypasses it entirely because she’s too impatient for it) and gains a deeper connection with her powers, as she’s connecting with it instinctually rather than choosing to seek it out. Nutmeg and many others are not as convinced about this method, but they also can’t deny that it doesn’t have its perks, as Ash does have a very powerful connection to her light- mainly through exploding things, or setting everything around her on fire. It’s how she used to survive the Warlords she’d steal from in the Dark Ages, and she’s known specifically for her ability to mimic a nova bomb, but with solar power, which is strong particularly for how unexpected it is.

However, being constantly hungover and harbouring no friends doesn’t exactly have its benefits, and as a result Ash is almost always grumpy, abrasive, quick to anger, quick to turn to cruel jibes and mocking when being defensive (which is often), and is generally awful to be around. She has no friends other than Nutmeg (whose bond has become strained as of late, since Ash is now turning to substance abuse for coping with the impending threat of the Witness rather than simply using it for her studies), her apartment is an uncleaned shithole she only uses for crashing in when she’s particularly out of it, and she's constantly in a state of passive-aggressive warfare with Osiris, as she and him used to occasionally cross paths and share research; they might have had a student-teacher dynamic if they didn’t grate so abrasively, and if Ash wasn’t so much of a lone wolf. He’s tried to whip her into shape a couple of times, but to no avail- they just devolved into shouting matches. Pretty much the only people she listens to are the Drifter and Nutmeg, but whether or not she’ll actually take their advice is a toss-up.

Despite this, she will overall always choose to do what's right and will begrudgingly trudge along with people in random strikes to ensure that important missions get done, as she fears failure more than she does judgment. And yet, to an extent she also fears judgment, for part of the reason why she’s so cruel is to keep people at arm’s length, so as to prevent them from learning her weaknesses- not even her constant complaining about being bitchless will cover up that the core reason why she makes no effort to clean herself up and be nicer is because she fears vulnerability. She’s also brilliant with the Light and cunningly adept with the Dark, which is why the Vanguard continues to ask for her help and expertise.

People she likes: the Drifter, Hawthorne, Nutmeg, Eido, Toland, Shaxx to most everybody’s surprise

People she dislikes: Pretty much the whole Vanguard and 90% of other guardians, Saladin, the Iron Lords, Osiris, Misraaks,

Primary class (Dark): Stasis, wants to learn Strand but has a hard time letting go

Primary class (Light): Solar, Void

Likes: Learning nuances of the Light that others don’t go into detail to, connecting with the Light, growing more powerful and shaping it into new, experimental Supers that would make Zavala have a heart attack if he saw them in action, taking leadership in Strikes and prodding around New Lights to teach them about what it is to be a Guardian (but gently), killing assholes to put them in their place, spooking people

Dislikes: Being told what to do, being reminded that she’s a mess, being reminded that she’s afraid and that her behavior is starting to turn self-detrimental, being looked down on by other Guardians, the restrictive nature of Vanguard protocol that keeps her from playing around with her experimental supers, guardians who have no respect or care about mortal lives, getting kicked from bars for fighting said guardians with no respect or care for mortal lives, being reminded that she has a soft side and cares so much for other people that it scares her

Colours/theme: black, flame-gold, and green

Fun fact: Likes the Hive aesthetic, and knows their tongue just for the hell of it. Has quite a bit of fun tormenting and taunting Hive Lightbearers, loves digging around the Osmium Siblings. Despite this, she’s not passionate about the Hive, and doesn’t care one bit if they’re wiped out or not. She also pretty much never takes off the Stag helm, as dropping a rift on death has saved her ass more than once, and tends to sleep in her robes. It’s a miracle that she doesn’t stink something awful, but smells perpetually like smoke instead.

and last but not least: Viper-4, an ex-guardian who I have almost nothing on because he tends to be a side character: he/him, trans exo, primarily black chassis with red markings, not yet settled on alignment. A friend of Aeris, he's an ex-Hunter who is now the primary caretaker for a variety of venomous snakes whose species have survived the Collapse. He collects their venom to try to recreate old Golden-Age medicines and antivenom- which he does with Aeris's help- and had his forearms modded with soft silicone so that the snakes don't hurt him if they bite him. Generally a friendly and chill guy, but has a melancholy air as most Ghostless do, and wants to learn Strand so that he has some modicum of control over the elements again, as his lack of feeling the Light was the hardest part about his Ghost's death. Much like Brya and Sagira, his ghost sacrificed her to save him, but he blames himself for her death and pretty much entirely refuses to talk about it. Used to be quite adept with Void. I note that he's trans here because it carried over into his exo body, as he was raised with synthetic top surgery scars that were then worked into beautiful engravings of flowers, swords, and snakes by Viper-1

#long post #destiny 2 #my ocs #my guardians #oc: aeris sharphawk #oc: marcelline attenbough #oc: petrichor-12 #oc: ash #oc: viper-4 #maybe i should have used a readmore but #im paranoid about accidentally deleting this blog and having it be lost #sjdhfg

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creativitycache · 4 years

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please tell us what about basira frustrated you in ep 177, i was having some similar feelings and youre really eloquent and tend to phrase these sorta things real well

Oh thank you! I’m not sure how eloquent I can be right in the moment, but I’ll try! (I’m technically supposed to be emailing clients right now shh 🤫)

Basira frustrates me immensely, and has always done so.

Actually, I should clarify. I originally enjoyed her- for the first few episodes she was in before it became crystal clear just what kind of person she is.

A hypocrit.

She seems like she’s even keeled, she seems like she’s logical, but she’s not. She looks down on everyone else. She has no empathy for others. And she calls people monsters while using them ruthlessly then shaming them for being tools in her hands.

She forgives Daisy anything. She brushes off Daisy’s atrocities, and she covers for her even before she knew about the excuse of the entities.

But Jon? Oh no, Jon’s a monster. Jon’s a tool. And any time he’s used it’s his fault.

There’s constant examples in the past, but let’s focus on episode 177.

1. She has no drive to connect to Martin’s earnest attempts to reach out. He’s not even asking anything of her, he’s checking in on her. She’s never cared about anyone outside the select few she’s decided to bother with.

2. She dismisses other people’s pain. Jon, because he’s the kind of person who would bleed out on the AE floor without asking to jump the line because he dismisses his own pain in favor of focusing on others, forgives this on the basis that she’s had it worse. Alright, word of the Eye is that Basira’s has it worse. That doesn’t negate the fact she didn’t even ask how either of them were doing. And even when told they had suffered she brushed it off. I’ve been that person who’s been hurt “the most” and I still took time to check in on my friends who are also in the shit- because Martin’s right it’s not a competition.

3. She blamed Jon for everything despite the fact she KNEW Jon didn’t want to and that it was ultimately Elias’s fault. Jon didn’t press the issue because of his own flaws, but I still hold Basira responsible for her reaction. Because SHE KNEW that Elias was manipulative because SHE WAS MANIPULATED BY ELIAS. She KNEW Jon didn’t want it. And she STILL to Jon’s face, in front of Martin who had only ever been kind to her, said she should have killed him.

4. She dismisses Daisy’s victim. Really, Basira? You KNOW what kind of place he’s in because you just listened to Jon’s Statement. So you KNOW the man lying in bloody shreds on the ground has issues with mental health. You, a policewomen, KNOW the stigma attached with having mental health problem and how that impacts how the police and society deal with people who are in the midst of a breakdown that is NOT THEIR FAULT. And then. AND THEN. She tried to LIE. TO JON. TO COVER FOR DAISY. ABOUT WHAT A “PIECE OF WORK” THE MAN DAISY RIPPED TO SHREDS WAS. KNOWING THE WHOLE TIME. THE WHOLE TIME. THAT HE ONLY HURT SOMEONE ELSE IN AN ATTEMPT TO FLEE DAISY. HE DIDNT ACTUALLY EVEN BREAK THE LAW. HE DIDNT TRY TO ROB ANYONE. HE LASHED OUT IN A PANIC WHEN DAISY WAS HUNTING HIM AND HIT THE WRONG PERSON IN THE EYE. AND BASIRA JUST TRIED TO PLAY IT OFF AS THOUGH HE WAS A BURGLAR WHO ATTACKED AN INNOCENT HOMEOWNER.

5. She refuses to admit Daisy is a monster despite hunting her specifically because she’s turned into a monster. That is IMPRESSIVE levels of delusion.

6. She was going to hurt Jon, till she learned it wouldn’t change anything. Then she was going to leave, until she learned Jon had a use to her. Then she complained to Jon that she was stuck with him and it was all his fault.

Basira uses people, dismisses people’s pain to shield her own ego, disregards those who try to help, and warps her narrative to place blame on the easiest target.

It doesn’t even have to be Jon. She made a target out of that victim.

She’s a bully. She attacks the weakest link in any circumstances, all to avoid facing her own sins, which further compounds them into rank hypocrisy.

#tma #basira hussain #the magnus archives #mag 177 #spoilers

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elizabethemerald · 3 years

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Best role in a fantasy world? Beloved Shopkeeper

Ok, the best job in a fantasy land has got to be beloved shopkeeper for an adventuring party. Like, imagine: you’ve owned this small enchanting shop/ potion shop for years. It was your dream to run just such a shop ever since you were a little girl.

One day, a new group of “Adventurers” wander in. You’ve seen adventurers, mercenaries, local toughs of all kinds come in through your doors claiming to be hot stuff. They want your finest healing potions and to peruse your enchanted items. Turns out they aren’t as flush as they think they are and have to beg for a discount, even then they have to scrap together every copper to afford it.

You roll your eyes internally, but give them a small discount. Sometimes its nice to help a new adventuring group get on their feet. A little kindness early on could help shape their whole journey.

And you can definitely tell they have only just gotten together. Half of them look like, up until very recently, they were homeless and they all wear their trust issues like a uniform. Still they have some coin and you’re more than happy to take it from them, expecting to never see them again.

Except they come back. The next time they come through your door there is the jingle of gold in the coin pouches. They come to you and immediately purchase some of the enchanted goods they couldn’t get before, restock their potions and head for the road again.

And they keep coming back. They buy out your stock of healing potions every time they come through town. They commission spells or scrolls. They refill their magical components at your store even though they have probably come across cheaper options during their travels.

Each time they come to see you, you can tell they are about to head off another grand adventure. They come in request a helm of water breathing. The next time they trade the helm for your entire stock of potions of fire resistance. They still smell like smoke and ash the next time they drop by ready to sell a dragon’s horn, and a large handful of red dragon scales.

As they grow as adventurers they grow to become your close friends. You keep an ear to the ground for any gossip they might be interested in the next time they come in. They keep an eye out for interesting potion components or enchanted items they don’t need that you could sell.

One time, they dash in, grab a single potion of strength and throw some coin on the counter and run out before you can even greet them. When you count the coin you find its short the cost of the potion. You dismiss the difference as a best friend’s discount. However you are surprised when they return the next day to pay the difference plus more.

“We can’t be shorting our favorite shop keep!” They say.

You smile as they leave. This is the first group of adventurers who had done that. It warms your heart.

Another time they come in and you’re tired but you try and put on a good face. The quiet one in the back notices and asks you whats wrong. Eventually you tell her that a local criminal element is threatening you. They want to extort protection payments, or they’ll destroy your work. You tell your friends that you fear they are being funded by one of your rival enchanters.

She asks you some pointed questions, this may be the longest conversation you’ve had with her. Normally she’s completely silent when she visits your shop. The party leaves with an oddly serious air. You feel better for having a chance to complain about the threats. Hopefully the Watch will catch the culprits soon.

The next week the miscreants are in chains, brought before the law master. Your competitor has fled town after rumors spread of his involvement with the slave trade. Your favorite adventurers come in shortly after. The quiet one assures you that you will not be bothered like that again.

Once they leave on their next adventure, you close the shop early and sit against the closed doors sweat pouring from your brow. You hadn’t asked them to go after the criminals, much less to expose your competitor. They took the chance themselves because of your close friendship.

As time goes by, you watch them grow. They are quickly out growing what you are capable of making them. Yet they continue to shop with you, mostly just to enjoy your company it seems. Now they are selling back to you items they had to scrape together every coin for when they first bought it. The rings of water walking are being traded out for rings of protection, or even more powerful items that they are digging out of dragon hoards or lich dens.

Eventually powerful folk begin entering your shop with the names of your friends on their lips. Some are interested in purchasing their own enchanted items or potions, mentioning the party’s recommendation. Others are interested in business arrangements, saying your friends thought you would work well together. And still others...come with worse offers.

You stare at the heaping pile of gold and platinum. Create an item with a hidden curse. That will trip your friends in a dire moment, leave them open to attack when they most need their strength. You have your morals. As a shopkeeper, as an enchanter, and most importantly as a friend. You proudly cross your arms and turn down their offer, a smirk on your face, this fool thinking your loyalty can be bought like this.

The next offer is more serious. Create the cursed object, or die, burning in your own shop. You sweat. You are many things, skilled in many ways, but you haven’t faced death like your friends are. You’re terrified. You try to rebuff this person, who wants you to hurt your friends, and they make you regret it.

You create the cursed piece. When your friends return you try and dissuade them from buying it by pricing it exorbitantly. You know they won’t be able to resist it, you know them so well, the enchanted item is exactly up their alley. You however didn’t expect them to put down the money gladly, laughing and cheering after their successful raid on a dragon turtle’s lair and the horde they found within.

The quiet one, who always notices so much, who always stopped the rogue from stealing from you, who assured you that you wouldn’t be troubled again, notices your fear. She pulls you into the back room. With spells of warding against scrying and other magical spying cast she gets the truth out of you. The truth of the offer, and the threat, and the trap hidden under your enchantment.

The faces of the party are stern. Maybe you think they are angry with you for what you’ve done. However they say that no one should dare threaten their favorite shop keep. You can’t help your relief that they don’t hate you.

As quickly as you can you shove what items you can into a bag of holding. Your wand and tools of your trade. They stand guard around you, ready to kill anyone who would try and enact their threat.

You are snuck out of the city that very night. It takes you days to hear about the explosion. Your shop, your life’s work. Destroyed. Nothing was left after the flames were extinguished. You are now presumed dead.

You cry in her arms. The quiet one. Who had been so loud, so ardent that her companions would protect you. You cry yourself to sleep, while she watches over you, a silent sentinel.

The party agrees that the threat to you, by this powerful enemy of theirs cannot stand. They march to the door of their enemy’s tower, and with flying spells and powerful blows, rend that door to splinters. You can only watch, jaw agape as the battle unfolds. You hadn’t truly realized how powerful they had become. Or maybe it was just that they fought harder and more ruthlessly because someone had dared to threaten you.

After the battle, you and the quiet one find a side chamber of the tower and she absolutely rails you.

The party sets you up with a new establishment near their residence. A new shop, where you can once again weave your spells, and work your craft. They are more powerful than even your strongest enchantments, and so are no longer your most loyal customers. Instead they sell their old equipment and other artifacts they find on their adventuring to you and you turn a tidy profit selling them in turn to the next generation of young adventurers.

Each time they leave you on the path to a new adventure, a new monster to hunt or mystery to explore you wave goodbye from your shop door. You Watch them ride away, watch them vanish into a teleportation circle, watch them take off into the air. And you wait for them. You wait for them to return. For her to return.

And they do. And she does. Each time they return, battered and bruised but alive and triumphant and more importantly alive, you are there to greet them. You buy their excess treasure, tell them of the news and rumors in town. And with lingering eyes, lingering hands, and lingering lips welcome her home.

Eventually a fight comes that could be the end of the world. It could be the end of the party of adventurers. It could be the end of you and her.

They all buckle on their armor. Ready their weapons. You give them any potion or enchantment you have. Anything to bring them back to you.

She finds you in the press of her friends. She pulls you aside for a quiet moment, just the two of you. She presses a ring into your hands. Its a simple thing, especially in comparison to the magical rings she’s been trading in in recent years. There’s not a scrap of magic to it.

“Keep this safe for me?” She asks. Its her mother’s ring. She’s carried it on a silver chain around her neck since her first days on the road. You hold the ring on its chain tightly in your hand, and hold her just as tightly. You press a ring of your own into her hands.

“Keep yourself safe for me?” You ask. The ring has the most powerful protective spells on it that you are capable of casting. She smiles and nods, tears in her eyes. And she turns away from you with out another word.

You drag any civilians into a local shelter while the battle rages over head. You can hear the crash and din of combat, louder than any thunder and the earth shakes like the entire world will be torn asunder. You do your best to keep those around you protected from the rubble that falls down. Until suddenly, everything grows still and quiet.

Trepidatiously you lead the others out of the shelter. Tears jump to your eyes as you see your merry band of heroes triumphant. They did not escape the cataclysm without damage but they are here, and slowly it is setting in for them that they survived, that they won. Laughs and cheers slowly began to echo around.

You are smiling so wide your face hurts as you are looking in between them for her. Where is she? You are looking for any glimpse of her hair or the shine of her armor. But you can’t find her. The smile dies on your face and tears spring again to your eyes. They run down your cheeks as your despair grows. You are gripping her mother’s ring so tightly you are afraid you might break it, the stone is cutting into your palm.

Then you hear it. The laugh. Her laugh. For someone so reserved she has the most beautiful laugh. It is a laugh that is exclusively heard by her closest friends. Her closest friends, and you. You turn and see her there in the crowd of people starting to celebrate a new day they never thought they would see.

She wraps you in the tightest hug. She kisses away your tears.

“Did it help?” You ask. Pointing at your ring on her finger.

She smiles past her tears. And she nods. You try to offer her mother’s ring back.

“Keep it?” She asks. “For our children?”

You nod and she puts the ring on your finger. And she kisses you in a way you’ve never been kissed before.

Years down the line, you two are living together. She is, mostly, retired from adventuring. You are still running your shop, though you no longer need the money and are doing it mostly for something to keep you busy. You children have her eyes. You have her ring on your finger.

The two of you wonder which mother your children will take after. Will one of them take over the shop when you are ready to retire? Will the call of adventure be to strong to resist for one? Who is to say. You certainly don’t know. Children need to forge their own paths in life. Though their story is one for another time.

Please reblog if you like! Let me know what you think of this story!

#Dungeons and Dragons #stories #adventurers #shopkeep #writing emerald #i was blushing while I wrote this #its so so so gay #and I love it so much

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xwickedxspiritx · 4 years

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I have no idea if there’s a subsect of people who both love the Captive Prince novels and the Buffy The Vampire Slayer TV show, but as a person who adores both, I couldn’t get this AU out of my head.

For those who haven’t watched BTVS, it’s a 90s show about a teenage girl who becomes the Slayer -- a young woman who’s gifted extraordinary strength and fighting abilities in order to fend off vampires and other demons.

Let’s say Captive Prince characters exist in this world, in the modern day. I imagine Laurent comes from a long line of Watchers, the (usually male) scholars who are paired with Slayers to guide them. Basically, Slayers are expected to handle the fighting, Watchers usually stand on the sidelines and offer knowledge about demons’ weaknesses or when the next apocalypse will show up.

Aleron and Laurent’s uncle are Watchers, though they’ve never been paired with a Slayer. There’s only one Slayer at a time, and her powers get passed on to the next girl every couple of years (they have short life expectancies, unfortunately.) Auguste is a Watcher-in-training, and he’s totally against the current system. He think it’s unfair for Watchers to expect Slayers to do all the fighting and take on 99 percent of the risks, while Watchers usually sit back, maybe offer some advice, and also make a lot of money while Slayers get nothing.

His opinions don’t really make him popular, even though people are predisposed to love Auguste. They think it’s brave, but other Watchers fear that they’ll actually be expected to share some of their wealth with Slayers, or to take up weapons. But Auguste trains day in and day out, knowing he can’t match up to a Slayer’s superhuman strength but wanting to make himself a partner that could be relied upon.

At 13, Laurent’s dream is that he can follow in his brother’s footsteps to some degree. He hasn’t really started training to fight, since his brother worries he’d get overzealous and try to fight actually fight demons, but he reads as much as he can of demonology lore. Auguste is super proud of him, and they plan that when Auguste gets paired with a Slayer, Laurent will come along and be the brains of the operation.

Slayers fight lots of demons, but killing vampires is their primary fight. Vampires are demons who used to be human but were turned, losing their lives and their souls. They don’t age, but they can be killed with a stake in the heart, decapitation, fire, sunlight or lots of holy water.

The most infamous vampire of the day is Damianos. He and his brother Kastor were once sons of a prosperous noble family in Greece a few centuries back, but a beautiful blonde vampire named Jokaste turned them both. For 300 years or so, they’ve traveled as a group throughout Europe, wreaking carnage wherever they go. I imagine Jokaste would play them off each other, continuing relationships with both at the same time. Damianos doesn’t really care, but Kastor nurses a bitter jealousy.

As vampires, they’re not capable of remorse. Atrocities are commonplace. Damianos delights in finding strong warriors he can defeat and kill, or beautiful maidens he can feed from. Perhaps he’s even killed one or two Slayers.

When they’re sighted in France present-day, the de Vere family goes on high alert. But Laurent’s uncle is scheming. Maybe he’s after powerful, extremely dangerous magical artifacts that the de Vere family has been entrusted with, but which Aleron and Auguste keep away from him.

So Laurent’s uncle makes his move and kills his brother. But he sets it up to look like it’s Damianos who’s responsible -- Damianos, who’s known as one of the most dangerous demons in the world. Vampires aren’t super high on the demon totem pole, but Damianos fights with a skill no other vampire possesses.

Auguste believes the lie wholeheartedly and makes up his mind to go after Damianos. Let’s say the currently Slayer is also a Frenchwoman, maybe a younger Vannes, and they’re friends, though not officially partnered. They go after Damianos, who doesn’t even know, or care, about the de Vere family.

It goes badly. Damianos might not know what’s incensed Auguste and Vannes, but he likes a good fight in any case. He’s delighted, really, that two strong fighters sought him out instead of the other way around -- and he looks forward to killing them.

They put up a good fight, but Damianos is skilled on a level they didn’t expect. He gets a hit on Vannes that knocks her down hard, and Auguste, who’s been disarmed of a sword he was wielding, sees that she’s about to die. And suddenly, through all the grief and pain, he feels selfish.

If Vannes dies, the world loses a Slayer who has experience and hardiness, who could still save so many lives. If she dies, her powers get passed on, but they have no idea who’ll get them next, and Auguste has learned what a terrible burden it is to be the Slayer -- to be forced to give up your life to an often thankless duty.

So when Damianos raises the sword to cut Vannes down, Auguste leaps in the way and takes the blow. He tells Vannes to run, because while he dragged her into this fight for vengeance, Damianos isn’t the biggest fish to fry in terms of saving the world from demons.

Vannes hates herself for it, but she does run. And Auguste resists to the end, but he dies.

Auguste takes his last breath while Laurent struggles to get to him, held back by his uncle. They’ve been in a hidden vantage point. Laurent was so sure Auguste and Vannes would win, and when the tide turns, his uncle holds him back, saying no, Laurent, your brother wouldn’t want you to throw your life away, would he?

So Laurent watches, like the kind of Watcher he and Auguste were so determined to reject. He watches as Damianos looks at Auguste’s corpse without a care in the world. He watches as Damianos licks blood off his fingers and grins with satisfaction.

Damianos leaves France shortly after, and seven long years begin for Laurent. Years where he learns that his uncle doesn’t have his best interests in mind after all. Where he suffers abuse, and realizes that his uncle could care less about a Watcher’s duty -- he’s taking the de Vere family’s dangerous artifacts and selling them to whoever can pay for them. Maybe he’s been in league with, and is scheming to take over, Wolfram & Hart, an international law firm that specializes in enabling demons’ interests. Evil, but pays well.

By the time Laurent’s twenty, he’s a full-fledged demon hunter all on his own. He knows he’ll never have the power a Slayer would have, but he’s trained himself ruthlessly just like in canon. He’s matched that with an encyclopedic knowledge of demonology and the occult that’s unmatched by any other current Watcher.

Of course, Laurent’s uncle campaigns among the Watcher’s Council to convince them that Laurent is unfit for the position, that he’s dangerously obsessed with the vampire Damianos and would only get a slayer attached to him killed. The Council agrees, and even with all of Laurent’s skill and knowledge, he’s never invited to any Watcher business.

So he goes freelance. Laurent tracks and kills demons across France, maybe venturing into other countries as well. He builds his own network with other demon hunters, and gets a reputation of being ruthless and unbeatable.

With him is Berenger, another Watcher-in-training who was friends with Auguste. Maybe he had to leave the Watchers because of his lover -- Ancel, an incubus. Obviously, the Watchers aren’t big on human/demon couples. Then the rest of the gang -- Jord, Lazar, Orlant, etc. Perhaps Aimeric tags along by Jord’s side as a plant from his uncle.

(I wish Captive Prince had more usable female characters that could also fit in with this. Let’s say Laurent has a lot of female cousins from his mother’s side who are badass demon fighters.)

But his uncle wasn’t wrong that Laurent has an obsession. A hatred and quest for vengeance that kept him going through the worst years -- his desire to kill Damianos, the soulless vampire.

But Damianos hasn’t been seen in years, pretty much since the day he killed Auguste. Unknown to Laurent, Damianos got himself in trouble soon after he left France. He kidnapped and tortured Kashel (sorry!) and then carelessly left her body to be found by her clan of powerful witches.

Obviously, Halvik and the rest of the clan are enraged. They resolve to curse him with a punishment far worse than death, something that will make him suffer for the rest of his eternal life.

They give him back his human soul.

Without a soul, Damianos could kill, rape and otherwise destroy without any pangs of conscience. While the demon retained the human Damen’s memories and some parts of his personality, as a vampire he was slave to his basest instincts. His lust, both for fighting and sex, and his lack of empathy for what other people feel and experience.

But when his soul is returned, Damen’s better instincts come rushing back -- his sense of honor, his capacity for love, his belief in fair play and doing the right thing. He’s ripped out of the afterlife and forced to confront 300+ years of senseless violence and brutality, and to remember each person whose life he took or ruined.

At first, he’s lost. He goes to Jokaste and Kastor, but they reject him. Jokaste’s not a fan of his return to morality, and Kastor jumps at the chance to ditch Damen for good and have Jokaste to himself.

Let’s say that for a few years, Damen despairs. What does a vampire with a soul do with his life? He can’t live as a human, because he won’t age, he can’t walk in daylight without catching on fire, and he still needs blood to survive (though now he buys pigs’ blood from the butcher.) He wants to make up for what he’s done, but he has no idea how. He returns to his hometown in Greece, seeking some sort of comfort.

There, he meets Nikandros. He’s a fledgling demon hunter who only started hunting demons because his family was killed by them. Most humans have no idea demons exist, so he got thrown into that world headfirst. No superpowers, but he’s athletic and strategic.

He realizes what Damen is pretty quickly, though he knows nothing of his history. He’s ready to kill him without mercy, since no one’s ever heard of a “good vampire.” But Damen wins his trust -- maybe Nikandros gets outnumbered in a fight, and Damen swoops in to help him. Eventually, they team up, and Damen finds a new purpose -- and a means of redemption -- in fighting other demons and keeping innocent people safe.

Meanwhile, Laurent’s pissed that in seven years, there’s been no new sightings of Damianos or any word on his exploits. Damianos was never one to hide, so it’s baffling that he basically disappears. Laurent never considers that he might have been killed -- he saw for himself just how good he was.

As much as he wants to devote himself to hunting Damianos down, there’s the rest of the world to worry about. He also knows that if he confront Damianos too early, he’ll throw away his life for nothing. So he keeps training, keeps killing other demons, and tries not to think about the countless other victims Damianos surely must be racking up.

Suddenly, he gets word that a potential apocalypse might be happening soon in Greece. Vannes died about a year after Auguste (though she lived to save the world a few times in that period), and currently there’s a very new Slayer in Mexico who’s pretty untrained. Still, the Watcher’s Council wants to send her anyway, fairly unconcerned with whether she dies or not, since a new one will just take her place.

The new Slayer’s Watcher just died, and she hasn’t been assigned a new one. Laurent’s uncle volunteers him for the job, saying that since Laurent’s always wanted more of a role, this is perfect. The Council agrees, though of course they all figure Laurent and the Slayer will probably die.

Laurent knows what his uncle is up to, but he wants to go. Even if the risk to his life is greater than ever before, he knows it’s what Auguste would do. The new Slayer is just fifteen years old, and he won’t leave her alone to face the end of the world. He’ll train her to the best of his ability, then fight by her side. His team agrees to go as well, because despite the odds, they believe in Laurent.

So this sets Laurent on a collision course with Damen. I imagine that Laurent sets up camp in Athens, meets the Slayer, grows very attached, and starts training her. They don’t have much time, only three months before a potential apocalypse -- the world falling into hell, etc, etc.

Damen and Nikandros have also heard of the coming apocalypse, and naturally they’re also determined to prevent it. But when they arrive in Athens, they hear that the Slayer’s in town. And she’s not alone -- she’s got a whole team that fights beside her. For a Slayer, that’s pretty unheard of, and Damen is shocked -- he’s known (killed) a few Slayers, and they were always, always alone.

So he’s curious. He’s not stupid enough to make his presence known when the Slayer’s around, but he starts lurking a bit, tries to learn more about her and her team. Eventually, he catches them fighting a group of vampires.

He can tell the Slayer has a lot to learn. Even with superhuman strength and agility, she’s hesitant, doesn’t move confidently in a way that could really harness that power.

But he sees someone who does fight with confidence, even arrogance, who moves like quicksilver even though he has to be a normal human.

He sees Laurent, and a part of him’s already in love.

But he recognizes that scent. He sees the resemblance between the younger brother and the older, who he remembers all too well. Even though Laurent was hidden, Damianos knew he was there that night. Yet even as a vampire, he had no interest in hurting children.

Damen sees Laurent, the Slayer and the rest of the gang kill a dozen vampires like it’s nothing. He’s never seen teamwork like that, except for maybe him and Nikandros. It’s obvious that Laurent’s the leader, and Damen is possessed with the overwhelming, but futile, urge to know him, to understand what’s in the mind behind that golden hair.

But Damen knows he has no right to know anything about Laurent. Even with Kastor’s rejection of him, he still loves his brother. Killing a person’s brother is not something you forgive. Even though Damen and Damianos aren’t truly the same person, Damen still carries a deep guilt for everything Damianos did in his skin.

All the same, he can’t resist lurking a bit more, just to get a few more glimpses of Laurent in battle. He gets a bit stalkerish, finding out where Laurent’s team is camping out, getting an idea of each member and their fighting style, their personality. Of course, he’s also fighting demons with Nikandros. Let’s say that as the apocalypse gears up, more and more demons are drawn to Athens, so it’s a fight just to keep the city from burning down in the meantime.

It’s inevitable that their paths cross for real. Laurent, still a bit solitary at heart, goes on long walks by himself to think and to drink in the local history and art. One night, he’s set upon by several demons eager to rid the town of him. Damen had also been following Laurent at a distance, curious about what he did when not fighting.

Laurent’s armed, but only with a small dagger. Damen watches him fight three or four demons singlehandedly and is impressed yet again by his skill and versatility. But he realizes that it’s not enough -- Laurent’s going to at the very least get badly injured during this fight.

Even knowing it’s a bad idea, that he’s basically signing his death warrant, Damen rushes in to save him. He fights off the demons easily, having enhanced strength that Laurent can’t match with any amount of training.

Laurent, on the ground and bleeding, can’t believe his eyes. Damen, like the sweet idiot he is, offers to help him back to their camp, thereby admitting that he’s been aware of Laurent and his location this whole time.

Laurent lunges at him, overcome with rage, but he passes out from his injuries. So Damen does what he promises and takes him back to camp. Laurent’s team is surprised, horrified and even a little amused at this infamous vampire carrying Laurent in like he’s something precious, setting him down softly and then escaping before they can stop him.

When Laurent wakes up, he thinks it was a dream. But he saw it himself -- Damianos is really back, and Laurent has no idea what he’s playing at. Did he hunt Laurent here, wanting to kill him for some reason? Why didn’t he take the chance he had?

Laurent decides it’s Damianos’s typical MO -- he wants a good fight, and Laurent was too injured to be interesting enough to kill. But he recovers, and now he’s ready. Damianos is in Athens, and so is he, and their battle will come any day now.

But instead, Damen starts jumping into Laurent’s fights whenever it looks like things might take a turn for the worse. He even helps the Slayer once or twice when she’s caught alone by a pack of demons. Nikandros thinks he’s an absolute moron, and he rightly deduces that, despite all common sense, Damen has feelings for Laurent and wants to be close to him any way he can. More than that, he just wants to help Laurent, to make up in some small way for the harm he caused him.

With each friendly save from Damen, Laurent grows more and more incensed. He’s convinced Damen is playing some sort of game with him, although that was never Damianos’s style. Again and again, Damen helps him and his team. Sometimes he’ll even show up with tips about a new demon in town, or something about the swiftly approaching apocalypse.

It comes to a head one day when Damen and Laurent are both captured by a witch who wants to use them for some nefarious ritual. They’re chained in a cellar, out of each other’s reach but forced for once to stay in the same room, able to see and talk to each other.

At first, Laurent wants to ignore Damen. Being in the room with his brother’s killer, and not distracted by an imminent fight to survive, is almost too much for him. But then he takes the chance to pour all the invective he can on Damen, his tongue the only weapon he currently has.

Damen takes it all silently. And when Laurent’s spent, when his grief chokes him, Damen tells Laurent that he knows he can never make up for what he’s done. That he’s been selfish to force his presence on Laurent during those fights. He’s honest, so he tells Laurent how much he admires him. Not for his looks or even just his fighting ability, but for the way he guides and protects the Slayer, the way he looks out for his team.

Because he just can’t stop himself, because some part of him still craves for Laurent to see him in a positive light, he also tells him about the curse. That the Damianos he knew is gone, and that Damen carries his sins but is not that same demon.

Laurent still thinks it’s a trick. He’s forced to rely on Damen to get out of the witch’s cellar, but when they’re free, he challenges Damen to a fight. No holds barred, in which victory means death for the opponent.

Damen agrees, because he feels it’s what Laurent is owed, that chance to take out his rage. And a part of him that sounds too much like Damianos is eager to feel for himself Laurent’s prowess for battle.

So they fight. Laurent gives it everything he’s got, everything he took seven years to build. Like in canon, it isn’t enough. Damen doesn’t hold back, respecting Laurent’s anger and skill too much.

But when it comes time for the final blow Laurent’s expecting, looking up at Damen in hatred, it doesn’t come. The monster Damianos, the soulless vampire, has a look in his eyes that Laurent can’t fathom.

Damen tells Laurent that if he wants to take his life, he’s earned it through the suffering Damianos caused him and so many others. But Damen doesn’t want to see the world end, and he knows that Laurent needs him to stop the apocalypse. The Slayer, though improving in leaps and bounds through Laurent’s tutelage, can’t be expected to take on the end of the world by herself. And she isn’t yet the partner that Laurent needs -- that Damen can be.

Laurent’s tempted to take up his weapon again and cut Damen down from behind, but he’s also realizing that the apocalypse is coming too soon, and he, his team and the Slayer might not be enough. Damen, however, has 300 years of experience with demons, has seen apocalypses from a distance and is surprisingly intelligent behind all that muscle.

He accept Damen’s offer, as painful as it is. He’ll work with Damen (and begrudgingly, Nikandros) to stop the apocalypse with the help of the Slayer. But when it’s over, they’ll fight again, and Laurent will win. He’ll kill Damianos.

In the month left before the end of the world, they’re together constantly. Laurent doesn’t take this gracefully, using his vicious tongue against Damen at every opportunity. But Damen sees how he is with the Slayer, how he’s strict but gentle in teaching her. He falls in love with Laurent even more.

For Laurent, it grows harder and harder to deny how, at least professionally, Damen completes him, makes him a better hunter. His eye for strategy finds what Laurent misses, and his strength and skill in battle still manage to shock Laurent sometimes. Again and again, Damen saves his life, and against his judgment, Laurent saves Damen’s life too. They become the scourge of the Greek underworld.

When the apocalypse comes, they’re ready. It’s not easy, but they stop it, and they all manage to survive. Damen grins at him, and Laurent can’t stop looking at him.

When it’s over, they fight again, one on one. This time, Laurent really does win. Over the past month, he’s watched Damen like a hawk, partly for any hint of betrayal and partly because he just can’t figure him out. He’s starting to believe that Damen really did get his soul back, but if that’s true, what does that mean for Laurent? Damen’s still a vampire, still wears the face of his brother’s killer.

But Damen’s also the one who fought by his side like no one else ever has, ever could. He talked with Laurent through the night, planning and strategizing, making up for what Laurent overlooked. Damen, a vampire, helped Laurent train the Slayer, his natural enemy.

So with the blade at Damen’s neck, Laurent stops. It’s the most difficult thing he’s ever had to do, but he lets his anger go. As much as he hates Damianos the vampire, he’s seen Damen the man beneath the monster, and he can’t kill him.

The Slayer returns to Mexico, and she asks Laurent to return as her full-time Watcher. The Council isn’t happy about it, but it’s hard to argue after his stunning success.

Laurent’s team is on board to go with him. And Damen says, well, he’s never been to the Americas. (Nikandros, ever-suffering, goes with them, too afraid to leave Damen to Laurent’s mercy. He’s the only family he has left.)

After that, it’s slow but inevitable. Damen and Laurent come together, helpless to do anything else. For the first time in Laurent’s life, and even Damen’s centuries-long existence, they both feel they’ve found a true partner they can trust. A person they love more than they thought possible.

On the night of Laurent’s twenty-first birthday, they consummate that partnership. It’s a moment of true happiness for both of them, for two people who felt unworthy of that kind of happiness, who thought they’d never find it again after all they’ve lost.

But the curse that returned Damen’s soul wasn’t full-proof. He was meant to suffer, to never find a moment’s rest under the burdens of his guilt. Finding happiness with Laurent changes that. It breaks the curse.

He staggers out of the room as Laurent sleeps peacefully. Damen tries to cling to his soul with everything he has, but the pull is too strong.

When Laurent wakes up, he’s alone. At first, he’s irritated, then he’s afraid that Damen’s run off to some fight. A day passes, and he can’t find him everywhere.

But Laurent’s network has started to whisper. The whole underworld beneath Mexico City is buzzing.

And it says, Damianos is back.

Laurent loses his lover, his partner, and is faced again with his brother’s killer. A soulless vampire who remembers the last eight years with disdain. Who’s obsessed with Laurent, which isn’t exactly new, but now sees him as the ideal target -- someone he wants to defeat in every way possible.

To make things worse, Laurent’s uncle shows up. An extraordinarily powerful artifact has been unearthed in Mexico -- Acathla, a demon turned to stone centuries ago, who if reawoken can swallow the world into hell.

Laurent’s facing his uncle on one side and Damianos on the other, who’s joined up again with Jokaste and Kastor. He knows that with Damianos returned, he finally does have a chance at true revenge -- and yet now, when he looks at Damianos, all he sees is Damen.

Laurent takes down his uncle and his whole network of smugglers before he can sell Acathla to the highest bidder. But at the last moment, Damianos sweeps in and steals Acathla right from under him, killing Orlant in the process.

Now, it’s do or die. If Laurent doesn’t fight Damianos and kill him, he could use Acathla to end the world. For months, he’s scoured every possible resource for knowledge on the curse, something that could bring Damen back.

He thinks he’s finally found something, but it’s badly translated and Laurent doesn’t have the gift for magics that it would require. Ancel pulls out a precocious young witch, Nicaise, that he says he can do it, but Laurent says no. Magic is dangerous, especially a curse on the level of Damen’s, and he doesn’t want a young teenager taking that risk.

So he steels himself and goes to face Damianos. When Jokaste and Kastor stand in his way, Laurent manages to kill Kastor, and Jokaste makes her escape. He’s left with Damianos, who’s enraged at his brother’s death. Damianos, despite himself, also hates Laurent for the emptiness inside him, the hole left by the love Damen felt for the human.

Except that emptiness loses him the edge Damen always seemed to have. Once again, Laurent has his blade against the vampire’s neck, the neck of his enemy and his lover.

Of course, Ancel and Nicaise didn’t listen to Laurent when he told them not to try the curse. It’s hell on Nicaise, and probably opens some doors he can’t close again, but the power passes through him -- and it works.

Laurent sees a light go back into Damen’s eyes, right as he’s bringing down his sword. He can’t believe it -- he’s too afraid of being wrong -- but Damen gasps, falls to his knees and looks at Laurent like hasn’t seen him in years. The curse hits him like a train, and he doesn’t remember Acathla or losing his soul.

For the first time in months, Damen’s arms are around Laurent. There’s a kiss to his hair, to his forehead, and then to his lips, and Laurent finally allows himself to hope.

But when he opens his eyes again, he sees what Damen can’t -- that Acathla’s eyes are also open. He’s awake and ready to suck the world into hell, unless the one who awakened him is sacrificed into that pit first.

And Laurent finally understands what his brother felt in those last moments. What every Slayer knows. That duty comes before everything, before love and before life.

So he kisses Damen one more time. He tells him, for the first time, that he loves him. And he tells him to close his eyes, knowing he will, because Damen trusts him without reservation.

In a mockery of all the times he could never do it, Laurent’s blade goes so easily through Damen’s heart, pinning him to Acathla. He looks into Damen’s shocked eyes as the vampire is thrown into hell. The portal closes with a snap.

Laurent is alone.

(If you are a BTVS fan and you’ve seen season three, you know how this goes. Damen will return from hell by some act of god or devil, throwing Laurent into turmoil again -- after everything, what would it mean to forgive Damen for a second time? But unlike with their counterparts Angel and Buffy, I like to think true love conquers all in their case.)

#captive prince #laurent of vere #damen #damianos #buffy the vampire slayer au #lamen

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warriorsfireandwater · 5 years

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Chapter Five

“Before the Clans, but after the time of the Great cats, we were scattered throughout the territories,” Beechpaw began. “Many cats were loners, but there were some that traveled in groups. They were small, though, nothing like the Clans we have now. They didn't know the first thing about loyalty, and most groups that actually stuck together tended to be family.”

“What are ‘great cats’?” Firepaw asked, as Beechpaw paused.

“Shh,” Graypool shushed him quietly. “Another story for another day.”

“Yeah, well, there was one cat that was a newcomer to the territory,” Beechpaw went on. “She was said to have come from beyond the mountains. She kept to herself for a while, watching the ways of the other cats. In winter, when prey was scarce, cats would fight over every scrap of prey, and many would die. There were no laws, and there was no Code to guide them. They weren't above killing if it meant their kits could eat.”

“You forgot her name,” Shadepaw cut in.

“Oh—sorry.” Beechpaw licked his chest, embarrassed. “I don't get to tell stories that often. Her real name has been forgotten to time. But we call her Wind, because she was the first leader of WindClan, and the first real leader of any Clan. It's believed that WindClan was the first of all Clans, and that others came together shortly after. Anyway, Wind hated to watch the senseless fighting. She was said to be incredibly wise, and she believed that if only the rogue cats could work together, they could all survive prey-starved seasons. So she set about the moorland first, trying to speak to any cat that would listen to her. Most turned their noses up and went back to their dens.”

“But there were some that joined her. They were mostly cats with no family groups. They were the most vulnerable, and the most easily chased off from their catches. Even though Wind could rarely get cats who stuck with their family to join her, she based her plan on them—those cats, though they had more mouths to feed, usually were able to hold on to their dens, hold onto their catches, and even chase cats away from their own prey. She believed that this could be expanded to include more than just one’s mate and kits, that if a large group of cats banded together with a common goal of companionship and survival, they would do just as well, if not better. Over time, Wind was able to gather a large number of cats as her followers. They truly believed in her wisdom, and readily stuck together. As they grew in size, they grew in strength, and began to establish a territory where only they could hunt. Anyone who would not join them was chased off to ensure that the prey in the moor remained theirs. Of course, this didn't bode well with other cats who had lived there. Though they recognized the strength that came with numbers, they were too furious to just fall in line with Wind and live on the moorland with her.”

“The second Clan is said to be ShadowClan. They were chased across the Thunderpath, towards the barren land they now live in. They found a common interest in their hatred for Wind, and ironically, it drove them to form a large group of their own and establish a rigid territory as well. They had even greater need to stick together in that place. ShadowClan territory has always been scarce of prey, even in the summer. Because they didn't have to kill one another to keep from starving, they were able to hunt together and share their meager findings.”

“As the marshland group grew, they began to invade Wind’s territory. Their confidence grew with their numbers, and they realized they could beat Wind at her own game, and chase her cats off of the choice parts of their territory in return. The fighting was always vicious, and lives were constantly being lost. This began to take a toll on cats on both sides. Many just wanted peace, not senseless fighting, and some cats began to abandon their groups and head south. Some came here, to the river, and found like-minded cats who had been otherwise loners.”

“This was the start of RiverClan, the third Clan. The few loners that lived along the stretch of the river lived relaxed lives, plump and beautiful from the bountiful fish. The former group cats that found themselves at the river loved the promise of a calm life, and they settled down here. Even those from opposing sides eventually began to stick together—while they’d hated the constant fighting, they'd learned that there was sense to having a group.”

“Don't think that it means RiverClan can't fight,” Shadepaw added, her claws unsheathing for a moment.

Beechpaw rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. We’re tough.”

“RiverClan is like the river we’re named for,” Graypool said. “Always flowing, often calm, but ever strong. ThunderClan looks down on us because we know how to relax, but they underestimate our strength.”

Firepaw pricked his ears. Someday I'll be strong like the rest of RiverClan, he thought.

“Anyway, back to the story,” Beechpaw meowed. “The group that became RiverClan stuck together on the shore of the river, protected on all sides by the river. Because of this, they were able to contently avoid most of the conflict. For a long time, they didn't actually mark their borders, believing the river to be enough of one to keep out cats that didn't want to be there. The first medicine cats were said to come from RiverClan, because of the lasting peace, but that's a whole other story too.”

“So then there was the group that later became ThunderClan. They came last, but they'll all tell you that their Clan was the first or that we all became Clans at the same time because they're too embarrassed to admit it. Anyway, most rogues and loners, even those in once-safe family groups, had been chased all over the territories as real, strong groups began to spring up around them. Those in the forest really had no choice but to join together, or risk being overrun by a different group. Plus, the forest is teeming with badgers and foxes—which is deadly for a lone cat with no friends. They joined forces, and the few cats left that still didn't want a life as part of a loyalty-bound group fled for good. Many became kittypets or roamed at the edge of the territories, forever bitter over the loss of their homes, but never brave enough to take us on.”

Badgers? Foxes? Firepaw still had questions, but he didn't interrupt.

Beechpaw cleared his throat before he continued. “So life continued like this for a while. Wind was proud of the group she had amassed, but in doing so, she’d only strengthened those who wanted her land and prey. Because there was still no code in place to bind them to honor, fighting went on and cats kept dying. Wind came to the conclusion that the groups must all unite, or they would risk falling apart and returning to their old ways. She called for a meeting with all of the group cats, and to her surprise and relief, the three other groups agreed. As with her group, the others had all naturally found someone capable of taking charge, and they had decided they liked the taste of power. When all four groups gathered at Fourtrees, Wind came forward from her cats to speak to all cats.”

“‘Thank you for agreeing to meet me”, she told them. “I will try to be to the point. I gathered my followers because I saw that our land was rife with fighting and suffering. Those who were alone starved or died to defend their scraps of prey, while even cats who stuck with their family hardly got by. In the time that my group and I have joined together, I have watched us flourish. Our kits do not starve, and we do not have to fight each other for the prey on the moor. But still, we fight all of you, and I know you fight with each other.’”

“‘We know this, rabbit-breath,” hissed the leader of the forest cats. He was a massive tom, with a handsome brown tabby pelt. Even Wind herself stiffened at his voice. “It was you who first chased cats from the moor and caused the same to happen across these territories. Get to the point.’”

“I heard he had a ginger pelt,” Shadepaw interrupted with a flick of her tail. “That's what Sandpaw told me.”

“Oh, who cares about what his fur looked like?” Beechpaw groaned. “Are you telling this story, or am I?”

“Sorry,” Shadepaw muttered. “Go on.”

“Thanks,” Beechpaw muttered. “So Wind says, “I want to put an end to our rivalry. I think that all of our groups should join forces as one. This will allow us to stop the fighting and focus on surviving together.”

“‘That's ridiculous!” protested a cat from the river group. She was the one that her group looked to for guidance, as she was the first one to teach herself to swim. “There are so many of us and so much land. Who would lead all these cats?’”

“The marshland group’s leader stepped forward. He was a skinny thing, but he had a dangerous, cunning look in his eye. “I don't see why I couldn't step up,” he hissed. “My cats may have the worst choice of land, but we’re by far more resourceful than the rest of you.” Of course, this didn't sit well with cats from outside his group. There were protests from the three other groups, and each began to shout for their own leader to challenge him. It isn't known who struck the first blow, but first it was two cats who leaped for each other, and within moments, chaos broke out among the groups. Cats turned on each other as they fought ruthlessly, still thinking of nothing but their own survival and dominance.”

Beechpaw stretched out his legs and cleared his throat. “The battle raged until nightfall. There were so many cats and so much blood—it was impossible to tell friend from foe. Cats fell like leaves in the winter, and their friends and family kept fighting to avenge them. It seemed that they would keep fighting until every last cat was dead in the clearing. The only light illuminating the clearing in the darkness was the moon—but out of nowhere, the clearing was suddenly plunged into total darkness. Clouds, as though appearing from thin air, had covered it fully, blocking out every ray of light. Cats ceased fighting and began to cry out in fear and confusion.”

“Suddenly, dim light began to shine from around them. The spirits of their fallen allies had risen from their bodies like wraiths, and all fell quiet as they gazed upon them in awe. The spirit-cats weaved around the living, finding their loved ones among those that remained. “You must stop this violence,” the spirits told them. “But not like this. You have found your own ways, in your own homes. But without change, there can only be more death. You must find honor in your life, and stick to your own borders. You cannot be rogue groups any longer—you must become noble Clans, or you will fall apart and kill each other like you have tonight.’”

“‘But I thought this was the way,” an exhausted Wind said. “I didn't want a fight, I just wanted us to join together!’”

“One of the spirit-cats shook their head. “You had good intentions, but this isn't the solution. There are too many differences between you and too many old grudges to create an alliance. You must all build honor within your groups, but you must keep to your own places. Defend your territory, but do not needlessly trespass on another. You must find a way to create structure, or you will all fall to battles like these.’”

“And then, like mist, the spirits dissolved and rose to the sky. The living watched as they went up, and after they had vanished, the first stars appeared in the sky. The stars are the spirits of our ancestors, and they watch over us with Silverpelt. Our souls will all pass on one day and go to be with Silverpelt, and we will make the night sky a little brighter as we watch over our Clanmates for all time to come.”

“Silverpelt?” Firepaw echoed.

“The sky, the mother of cats,” Shadepaw explained. “But she's part of a different story, too. All you need to know for now is that she created us, and she watches over us with the moon and the sun. She keeps the souls of departed warriors close to her, providing them a comfortable afterlife as they join her in the sky.”

“Silverpelt is an important figure in our Clans, too,” Graypool explained. “But you've got moons to learn about her, and more about StarClan.”

Firepaw thought on this for a moment. The stars are the spirits of warriors… He wasn't sure he entirely believed it, not yet, but the idea did sound nice.

“I'm sure it's quite a lot to hear,” Graypool went on. “But StarClan is very important to us. They watch over us and guide us in times of need. You'll see, though—perhaps your trip to the Moonstone will convince you more.”

“What's that?” Firepaw asked. I swear, if someone says ‘another different story’ again…

“Silverpelt dropped it into the mountains when she gave life to us,” Shadepaw explained. “It allows us to see StarClan, in rare times. Mostly just medicine cats, though.”

“Warriors don't speak to StarClan,” Snowfang muttered. “Foolish apprentice.”

“Snowfang is just old and bitter,” Graypool sighed. “He didn't dream when he got to visit the Moonstone.”

“We don't talk about whether or not we dreamt, Graypool,” growled Snowfang.

“What apprentice doesn't?” Graypool chuckled. “Now, go on with you three. I think Snowfang needs his space and I'm quite tired myself.”

“Yes, Graypool,” Shadepaw meowed. “Have a good rest.” She was the first to stand and leave.

Beechpaw stood, but hesitated. “Did I do a good job?” he asked. “With the story?”

Graypool laid down and tucked her paws under her chest. “Oh, of course you did,” she said, smiling. “You're getting much better at storytelling.”

Beechpaw puffed out his chest proudly and grinned. “Thanks!” He turned towards the mouth of the den. “Come on, Firepaw. You eaten yet?”

Firepaw quickly rose. “Not yet,” he replied. “Not since yesterday.”

“Great StarClan!” Beechpaw exclaimed. “I can't go even a half a day without eating something. Come on, then. We eat well in RiverClan.”

Firepaw purred gratefully as he followed Beechpaw out of the elder’s den. I'm not sure what to make of Shadepaw, but Beechpaw sure is nice!

#warrior cats #warrior cats au #warrior cats rewrite #riverclan fireheart #warriors: fire and water #chapter five

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leechangjoons · 6 years

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The Dawnbringers

The Dawnbringers (known in Korean annals as 빛의부활 자 Bichul Buhwalja) are a mythical order of paladins, borne of the union between a human and an heavenly creature (widely assumed to be angels). After swearing an oath to their superiors, labeled exclusively ‘higher beings’ by them, they descend upon various realms to serve their purpose and only that- the only way to slay such celestial beings is to tip the blade with necrotic energies and attack them when their guard is down. When they bleed, their blood is capable of healing diseases and curing curses, making them highly desirable by mortal scientists for their incredible self-healing capacities.

Every Dawnbringer appear mostly human, but are able to manifest large, glowing wings at will that will grant them flight- upon swearing their oath, they are also each granted a sword hilt that will burst into blades of light they can use to defend themselves. Their eye colour is always a distinct color- glowing bright golden that illuminates their surroundings as they channel divine energy. A Dawnbringer can take any form they desire, and age as they feel comfortable with to fit in with the mortal realm.

A Dawnbringer’s true form usually involves them in full armor, with three sets of distinct wings and six arms wielding various weapons. Eyes cover their bodies, allowing them to see in all directions, and burst with searing radiance that makes them difficult to behold. They also grow in size doing so, reaching to heights of 2-3m when they do so and yet also remaining as light as they were before in their humanoid forms.

Very rarely, a Dawnbringer turns their back against their oath and break away from the order, becoming Fallen in the process. Their energies shift and turn into a terrifying necrotic force, but being unbound by their only purpose of life can often become too crushing for such Fallen to persist in existence. Many of them, overwhelmed by choice, attempt repeatedly to end their own immortality. Most are hunted relentlessly by the order they forsook and killed before they are able to escape into the mortal world.

Name: Hyanggi Appearance: Hyanggi is a young woman with black, slightly curled hair that falls over her shoulders, which she usually ties up in a simple ponytail. She usually wears a maize-coloured blouse and khaki slacks, along with a comfortable pair of running shoes for easy travel. On her belt the hilt of her sword is visible, but is usually covered by her apparel. She’s almost always smiling, and it is obvious that her right arm up to slightly below the elbow is a ‘prosthetic’ of solidified light.

When she transforms, golden streaks line her hair and her eyes burst into white light as spectral feathered wings unfurl from her back that measure more than 2 meters on either end. Her hilt also transforms into a beam of concentrated light at will, which only she can command and wield. Personality: Hyanggi is eternally curious and optimistic of the mortal world, constantly asking questions about everything she sees and trying to gain as much information as she can. Naive as she is, she often inevitably ends up in trouble trying to be her best self and fails to grasp the complexity of mortals compared to how straightforward she is about herself. Her inquisitive nature is a stark contrast to her obsession to 'follow rules’, having been used to it as a member of her order, and due to being mostly isolated has grown to imprint upon Jongwoo for having a striking resemblance to someone she believed was her father. She often reveals the true emotions and thoughts of her companions and despises lying from her friends as it was. History: Hyanggi’s oath was to compile and track every single available Totem and Chosen in the world of mortals, and she bounced around from world to world in order to fulfil her responsibilities with eager resolve. This changed when she came to the mortal world in order to warn Jihoon, a Chosen she recognised that his Totem would inevitably turn against and try to kill him, and in a bid to maintain order in her own way, made the choice to stick with Jihoon and Jongwoo (who had been struggling with his gauntlet, an ancient artefact Hyanggi recognised) to protect them.

In this process, she bonded with Jongwoo, sensing a kinship with the vulnerable man who struggled with his short-term memories, and attempted to drop hints about his wife (whom she could easily tell he still pined for, even if he didn’t remember). Her help backfired when she attempted to remove Jongwoo’s curse, which worked for a time until Jongwoo remembered his wife’s sudden demise and was overwhelmed with grief. Horrified by her actions and deeply conflicted from hurting her friend, she went off with the mad scientist Gwangseob, now under his alias of Nomin, only to accidentally annoy him into letting her go from her incessant questioning of her motives and exploitation of his weaknesses (purely from her own concerned standpoint).

Eventually, as Hyanggi predicted, Jihoon was trapped in a fight for his life against his own patron, but with her help in exposing his own weaknesses, Jihoon felled the massive ice golem and gained power over his own destiny. She now lives comfortably with Jihoon, Jongwoo and Kyuhyung in Jihoon’s mansion near the corn farm, delving deeply into research about more of the Totems and Chosen in the process while meeting them eagerly.

The contingent of Dawnbringers that came to retrieve Hyanggi would’ve been successful if they hadn’t murdered Jongwoo in the process trying to do so. Consumed by righteous fury, Hyanggi donned his gauntlet before subduing them all, then used the powers in it to heal Jongwoo and bring him back to life. For this, however, the gauntlet soon ate through her right arm, forcing her to amputate it. Hyanggi is unperturbed, however, growing a brand-new arm effortlessly and only happy to have her ‘father’ back. Powers: Like all Dawnbringers, Hyanggi is functionally immortal and heals very quickly from injuries. Her aura also suppresses curses and diseases, and her Oath allows her to immediately recognise any Chosen or Totem no matter how much they try to hide it. Hyanggi is also inherently an empath and walking lie detector, being able to project her emotions to calm and soothe others as well.

Hyanggi is also able to glean a part of the memories tied to the last person who owned a certain object or through speaking to the person themselves. She often mentions this.

In terms of general abilities, Hyanggi is a very well-read historian with vast knowledge of the cosmos as well as her chosen job of librarian and skilled with the light sword she carries on herself. She is also able to speak or decipher any language required of her, including ancient runes. Alignment: Lawful Good Other: -

Name: Kyuhyung Appearance: Kyuhyung is a short man with dark hair, his tan skin marked with several black runic tattoos that ring his arms and neck which seem to shift and move across his skin. He’s usually clad in a grey cardigan over a light blue shirt, along with office pants and black platform shoes that surprisingly do not hinder his running speed. Unlike Hyanggi, he has no sword hilt, instead opting for a pair of padded and fingerless gloves he never removes.

When he transforms, Kyuhyung’s hair is streaked with grey and his eyes darken to pupilless darkness as black leathery wings that drip ichor unfurl from his back. The black runic tattoos begin to trail across his entire body, channelling necrotic energies in his kicks and strikes. Personality: Unlike Hyanggi, Kyuhyung views the mortal world with more cynicism, but is determined and devoted to his current purpose. He values atonement more than anything, and puts in steps to be able to fit in better in a world that view him with curiosity but this does not put a dent in his aims to purge the world of any evil he comes across. Kyuhyung is ruthlessly efficient in pursuing his oath despite losing most of his abilities to do so, and his methods often inevitably end up too extreme by mortal standards (and thus socially unacceptable). His often dry and cautious takes of the world around him is a sure sign of his lack of personability. History: Once Kyuhyung was a paladin in the order, who had sworn an oath to purge the mortal world of evil and protect them from dark forces. This changed when he descended to the world in search of a powerful blade, which he easily located. The blade, however, corrupted him, seeking vengeance for its abandonment in a wasteland and using Kyuhyung’s hand to slay many an innocent who dared stand in his way.

Kyuhyung believed the blade for a while, dutifully carrying out the blade’s commands until the day he consumed the soul of an innocent young man, the son of a powerful mafia boss. Horrified by his behaviour and finally snapping out of his trance, Kyuhyung sought to destroy the blade and succeeded, releasing all the souls it had obtained through his work- but the corruption had already been done, and Kyuhyung was now Fallen, branded a traitor.

To prevent the darkness from further consuming him, Kyuhyung tattooed magic runes upon his neck and wrists, casting aside his blade and training himself in the art of unarmed combat instead. Tracking down Hyanggi on the belief that she too was Fallen, he was surprised to see her in the safe care of two others and grudgingly threw his lot in with them on the pretence of ‘keeping an eye on her’, but more to observe mortals around him and pick up their habits.

Recognising that the vessel of the man from before being corrupted, however, Kyuhyung took it upon himself to purge Sangyeob from them- and failed, making enemies of Sangyeob’s entire family in the process. He refuses to give up, however, believing it was only the right thing to correct his mistake.

This train of thought was interrupted by a contingent of Dawnbringers, led by Kyuhyung’s ex Joonhan. They had arrived to kill him and take Hyanggi back, but when Jongwoo was murdered from protecting him, Kyuhyung chose to seek penance alone- what he didn’t expect was Hyanggi to follow him with Jongwoo’s gauntlet, subduing the contingent by permanently sealing them back to the order and taking Joonhan prisoner. Kyuhyung now mulls over his definition of mercy, knowing very well that if he did not make a decision quickly, Joonhan would too lose faith and become Fallen. Powers: Kyuhyung is functionally immortal and heals very quickly from general injuries. His aura, unlike Hyanggi’s, temporarily incapacitates anyone within range, and his original Oath allows him to recognise anyone who can count as ‘evil’ (undead, Dark or Light Wizards, revenants, etc) to purge the corruption from them. He too is an empath and able to recognise when one is lying- Kyuhyung however is able to subtly influence them to choose the more selfish or self-serving path offered to them.

Kyuhyung is also able to glean a part of the memories tied to the last person who owned a certain object or through speaking to the person themselves. Unlike Hyanggi he doesn’t draw allusions to this ability.

In terms of general ability, Kyuhyung is an excellent strategist and charismatic influencer from his original affiliation as a general as well as skilled in not only various blades but also melee unarmed combat. Alignment: Chaotic Good Other: -

Name: Joonhan Appearance: Joonhan is a tall, almost willowy-looking man with tousled, shortly cropped hair that almost seem unkempt, with a black hearing aid adoring each ear like an earring of sorts. He often obscures the lower part of his face with a mask of some kind, which is obvious when he lounges without it: the lower half of his face appear to have white tattoos upon them that stretch to the rest of his body, and at closer glance is actually light leaking from his skin. He usually wears a fuzzy maize-coloured trenchcoat over an orange collared shirt, along with long pants- his weapon of choice is a whip that is loosely coiled around a strap on his belt he can easily get to.

When he transforms, light bursts out from Joonhan’s orifices, and he manifests a set of spectral dragonfly-like wings to fly with. Golden streaks line his hair as his tattoos all start to glow with bright light, and his whip turns into a streak of solidified light he can use to attack others with. Personality: Joonhan is intellectual and ruthlessly efficient in getting what he needs, but like Kyuhyung suffers from a void where a personality should’ve formed. Learning from the others around him has made him develop a dry snark that only few can muster, further amplified by his superiority complex over humanoids, but he can be surprisingly naive of the needs of the mortals he lives with. His loss of hearing greatly frustrates and inconveniences him, but he hides his need for help through using sign language and second-guessing the intentions of others using his natural empathetic abilities, but he is deeply scheming and cautious of others precisely because he knows of how they feel. History: Joonhan, like Kyuhyung, was also a general of his own army, and the two share an on-and-off romance stemming from rivalry and mutual respect. His oath to the order was one of conquest- to clear all obstacles from their path and take over any hostile establishments in their name. Of course, when Kyuhyung broke off with him and vanished, Joonhan threw himself deeper into his work and soon was tasked to enter the mortal world to rid the order of a Fallen who had aligned himself with demigods.

To his surprise (and chagrin), it was Kyuhyung, and bound by his oath, he duelled the unarmed Kyuhyung while the rest of his army sought to lay siege to Kyuhyung’s allies. Joonhan had every intention to kill Kyuhyung and rid himself of this inconvenience, but when Jongwoo was murdered in the process throwing himself in Hyanggi’s path to protect her, Hyanggi had had enough and wielded her adoptive father’s gauntlet, banishing Joonhan’s troops and forcing him to use his power to revive Jongwoo for her. Going against his oath impacted Joonhan significantly, and he was soon taken as a prisoner by the others when he was weakened by things.

For straying from his oath, Joonhan’s hearing deteriorated severely and was no longer able to hear his order calling for him, nor those around him. He bickered with Kyuhyung for a long time before finally seeking help for his condition, getting hearing aids fitted for his troubles. Attempting to seek forgiveness from his god, however, Joonhan chose to take an oath of silence and only speaks through sign and telepathy, while trying to adjust to human life in the process.

His consistent meddling and involvement with humanity however led him to Destiny Liminal and the remnants of mutants that were formed from it. Bound by his oath to protect and serve those who were weaker, he took it upon himself to rehouse those affected, starting on his own personal journey outside of Kyuhyung and Hyanggi’s sphere of influence. Powers: Like all Dawnbringers, Joonhan is functionally immortal and heals very quickly from injuries. His aura also suppresses curses and diseases, and his Oath is able to spurn others to action and heightens their bloodlust, as well as temporarily ward them from being stunned or intimidated. Joonhan is also inherently an empath and walking lie detector, being able to project his emotions to have them think more logically and even encourages productivity in the process.

Joonhan is also able to glean a part of the memories tied to the last person who owned a certain object or through speaking to the person themselves. He adamantly refuses to mention this ability.

In terms of general ability, Joonhan is an immensely well-read general who is skilled in strategy and influence. He is also a skilled orator, often being able to pick out the best traits of a person and apply them to their strengths. Alignment: Neutral Good Other: -

#the Dawnbringers #radiant soul #necrotic shroud #radiant consumption

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oldwarriors-fireandwater · 7 years

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Chapter Five

“What are ‘great cats’?” Firepaw asked, as Beechpaw paused.

“Shh,” Graypool shushed him quietly. “Another story for another day.”

“You forgot her name,” Shadepaw cut in.

“Don't think that it means RiverClan can't fight,” Shadepaw added, her claws unsheathing for a moment.

Beechpaw rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. We’re tough.”

Firepaw pricked his ears. Someday I'll be strong like the rest of RiverClan, he thought.

Badgers? Foxes? Firepaw still had questions, but he didn't interrupt.

“‘We know this, rabbit-breath,” hissed the leader of the forest cats. He was a powerful, massive tom, with a handsome brown tabby pelt. Even Wind herself stiffened at his voice. “It was you who first chased cats from the moor and caused the same to happen across these territories. Get to the point.’”

“I heard he had a ginger pelt,” Shadepaw interrupted with a flick of her tail. “That's what Sandpaw told me.”

“Oh, who cares about what his fur looked like?” Beechpaw groaned. “Are you telling this story, or am I?”

“Sorry,” Shadepaw muttered. “Go on.”

“Thanks,” Beechpaw meowed. “So Wind says, “I want to put an end to our rivalry. I think that all of our groups should join forces as one. This will allow us to stop the fighting and focus on surviving together.”

Beechpaw stretched out his legs and cleared his throat. “The battle raged until nightfall. There were so many cats and so much blood—it was impossible to tell friend from foe. Cats fell like leaves in the winter, and their friend's and family kept fighting to avenge them. It seemed that they would keep fighting until every last cat was dead in the clearing. The only light illuminating the clearing in the darkness was the moon—but out of nowhere, the clearing was suddenly plunged into total darkness. Clouds, as though appearing from thin air, had covered it fully, blocking out every ray of light. Cats ceased fighting and began to cry out in fear and confusion.”

“‘But I thought this was the way,” an exhausted Wind said. “I didn't want a fight, I just wanted us to join together!’”

“Silverpelt?” Firepaw echoed.

“Silverpelt is an important figure in our Clans, too,” Graypool explained. “But you've got moons to learn about her, and more about StarClan.”

Firepaw thought on this for a moment. The stars are the spirits of warriors… He wasn't sure he entirely believed it, not yet, but the idea did sound nice.

“What's that?” Firepaw asked. I swear, if someone says ‘another different story’ again…

“Silverpelt dropped it into the mountains when she gave life to us,” Shadepaw explained. “It allows us to see StarClan, in rare times. Mostly just medicine cats, though.”

“Warriors don't speak to StarClan,” Snowfang muttered. “Foolish apprentice.”

“Snowfang is just old and bitter,” Graypool sighed. “He didn't dream when he got to visit the Moonstone.”

“We don't talk about whether or not we dreamed, Graypool,” growled Snowfang.