#the streets of ascalon

[ascalonianlightbringer]

It's been a long time since I first fell in love with pre-Searing Ascalon in Guild Wars: Prophecies. But I'm still nostalgic enough that I periodically visit Ebonhawke just to go home to human Ascalon, and I loved this view of it :)

#t: greetings friend #p: honor the past #r: for ascalon! #guild wars: prophecies #guild wars 2 #i love ebonhawke's story and legacy and (much as i love gw2) wish the founding story hadn't been cut short by the gw2 release #the dialogue options definitely suggest that human characters (ascalonian or not) have no ties to ebonhawke #and i'm like. actually all my characters do #althea fairchild: owes her last name to an ebonhawke npc i appropriated as her aunt #she was born in ebonhawke and half her family still lives there #gwen velazquez: her parents were in the ebon vanguard and died in ascalon while she was on the streets #of divinity's reach with her sister #isabel batista: daughter of immigrants from ebonhawke #xiulan azar: posted in ebonhawke as part of the vigil and sticks up for its people out of orrian-ascalonian solidarity #kate sandford: was literally a separatist #pax vowkeeper: charr priory member trying to atone for war crimes who awkwardly carts ascalonian relics to ebonhawke

[storiesundercandlelight]

In The Eyes of Priwen - Chapter Four

Another chapter!

Geoffrey made quick work of his journey to Evelyn's house, he could see the two lads stationed outside for the night sitting on chairs out the front. A luxury he certainly hadn't awarded to them. They stood up to greet him when he got close enough for them to be able to make him out in the lamp lit street, the air felt damp, like any moment the heavens would open up and the rain would start to fall. 

"Evening boss, everything alright?" Geoffrey was half ashamed that he couldn't remember the name of the guard who addressed him first, he was new.

"Yeah, anything here? I take it you're bein' treated as well as the lads last night?"

"Yeah Miss Evelyn had her man come out earlier with drinks and food" Geoffrey nodded before heading up the stairs, leaving the two men to sit back down. He knocked on the door expecting to be greeted by Sembene but it was Evelyn that opened the door.

"Hello, come in" She ushered Geoffrey in quickly, motioning for him to follow her into the living room and towards the desk at the back of the room.

"Your man not here tonight?"

"He was earlier but not now, I usually let him take time off, it's only me here now after all. Though he hasn't been taking any time since the attack. But now that your men are here I insisted" Geoffrey could already see an improvement, Evelyn was still dressed as casually as before, but her eyes seemed brighter, she'd clearly been sleeping these last couple of nights. "I found something"

"Yeah your note said"

"I don't actually know if it will be helpful to you but..." Evelyn leant over and picked up two brown leather journals from the desk. " My father was an explorer, hence the décor, he usually visited Egypt. Anyway before he died he became obsessed with immortality. Thomas and I just put it down to his love for Ancient Egyptian beliefs and their afterlife, but he wasn't the same in the last two years of his life" Geoffrey was beginning to wonder what any of this had to do with him, but he couldn't bring himself to interrupt her as he would have done with someone else like Edgar. Geoffrey realised he would probably sit and listen to her chat about anything as long as she kept her attention on him.

"Anyway it wasn't until I read his last two journals that I saw Priwen mentioned, and someone named Carl Eldridge?" Geoffrey's interest peaked at this.

"He was the former leader of Priwen, my mentor"

"My father seemed to have been meeting with him, about a weapon that can kill vampires. But later in the journal he begins talking about a club called Ascalon. They apparently reached out to him offering him immortality, I suppose I now know that means turning him into a vampire"

"Yeah it does, what weapon is mentioned?"

"Some sort of sword, the sword of a king" Geoffrey stilled for a moment. The only link to a king was the blood of Arthur that Carl had passed down to Geoffrey. Only in a time of great need was he to even consider using it to help him battle the worst of foes. But Geoffrey wasn't a fool, there was only one sword owned by a king that would be worth mentioning. "You can take them"

Geoffrey took the journals from Evelyn. "You sure?"

"Yes, you can bring them back after you're done with them and to let me know if there anything other than the ramblings of a mad man in there"

"Carl wouldn't have worked with your father if he were mad"

"My father was persuasive, even at the end he could probably talk his way out of the worst kinds of situations. Maybe he talked his way into gaining Carls help"

"You don't sound too fond of him. Your father I mean"

"I was, but he was away most of the time travelling. He'd never take me with him no matter how much I asked. My mother was determined to stick to the rules of the upper class, marry me off to someone suitable, my father knew I wouldn't have it. He used to let me get into all sorts of trouble" Evelyn smiled at the memory and now even more than before Geoffrey wanted her to keep talking.

"Your mother isn't around either?"

"No she passed first, she was sick. About 6 months later was when my father began to change. He died of a heart attack. Then it was me and Thomas. Now it's just me" She didn't say it with sadness but Geoffrey knew what it was like to be alone, you often hide the pain of it, well he certainly did.

"I know the feelin' of being the only one left" Geoffrey watched Evelyn look up at him in sympathy.

"You lost your family?"

"My father came back to Dublin a leech, killed my mother, Carl saved me and helped me hunt down Ian who was turned. That's how I ended up in Priwen" It wasn't a story Geoffrey often told, the short version was the only one he was comfortable with.

"I'm sorry"

"It was a long time ago now"

"Doesn't stop the memory from being there though" Evelyn shrugged to lighten the mood and stepped closer to Geoffrey, this close he could see the faint freckles that dotted across the bridge of her nose, the mix of greys and blues in her eyes. He realised after a moment she had been expecting him to move with her, he didn't and was now blocking her from moving away from the desk.

He cursed himself and went to move but Evelyn reached up, her hand ghosting over his jaw before gently pushing his face slightly to the side, her eyes fell on the faint scar that lined the side of his face. "How did this happen?"

"When I was younger, not so quick, leech scratched me" Evelyn met his gaze, a smile tugged at her lips. Geoffrey didn't want her hand to stop touching him, his own hand by it's own accord reached up to hold her arm in place. What was he doing? He wasn't sure himself. When Evelyn didn't react or pull away he wondered if he could lean in and kiss her, they were close enough.

But he didn't. Or he left it too long because Evelyn did move away from him, her eyes darting away from him in disappointment. Jesus he was a fool, he should have just done it.

"Thank you for coming, I hope the journals help" Her voice was quieter now, embarrassed perhaps. He didn't stop himself this time as he placed the journals back onto the desk and reached for Evelyn. He did it quick enough that he heard her take in a startled breath before he pushed his lips against hers.

Geoffrey would never claim to be the most experienced person when it came to romance but he didn't hold back from this kiss. Their lips moved easily against each other, as if this was a rhythm they had already learnt before. Evelyn's hands gripped Geoffrey's coat as they pushed closer together. He knew he could easily loose himself in this kiss, this moment, it could have perhaps been the only time in many year that Geoffrey would be willing to let himself get lost in something. For a man so devoted to Priwen and the cause, enough to be called a fanatic by many, Geoffrey in this moment wanted to be nothing more than the man kissing Evelyn.

This dance of their continued, building only more passion as they pulled and gripped at each other, Evelyn found herself backed up against the desk, Geoffrey leaning over her as their kiss grew deeper. If breathing wasn't vital Geoffrey knew he wouldn't have pulled away, but when he did they both let their heads rest against each other, their noses brushing gently as they both caught their breath.

They looked at each other then, both surprised as a small smirk pulled at both of their lips. "Lets hope your men haven't been watching through the windows" Evelyn whispered. Geoffrey hadn't even thought about it but now that he was he pulled back, his head snapping in the direction of the window, but all he could see were curtains pulled tightly across the glass.

His eyes rolled as Evelyn giggled at having tricked him. Geoffrey looked back at her, his eyes lingering on her lips a moment, wondering if he should kiss her again. God he wanted to, but the hour grew late and he knew he needed to get back to Priwen. "I want to stay but..."

"You have a job to do"

"Aye"

"Until next time then Geoffrey"

--------------------------------------

It was hard before keeping his mind off of Evelyn but now all he could think about was their kiss, the way she felt in his arms. He'd left Evelyn's house in a stupor almost missing the goodbyes from the guards outside.

By the time he'd made it back to Priwen most of the patrols were out or sleeping, only the men by the door were awake to greet him and Philip who was nursing a glass of whiskey in the entry hall which as it stands was the only space left with any room to relax in. "So...how'd it go?" The shir eating grin was back on his face but Geoffrey found himself in too good a mood to snap back.

"Fine, she gave me her fathers journals, seems he was working with Carl"

"I never heard of that happening"

"Nor I but sure it's there, I'll read over them and see what comes of it if anything" Geoffrey took Philips glass and took a swig himself before handing it back and muttering a good night.

"Hold on! Ye aren't going to entertain an ol' man?" Philip sat forward, a knowing look on his face but Geoffrey simply shrugged.

"You'll just have to find your entertainment elsewhere, I have nothin' to share"

"Oh aye, so that smile that was on yer face as ye came through the door was a coincidence then?" Geoffrey didn't even answer he simply turned and headed for a free bed. He would deal with Philips teasing tomorrow.

#vampyr #vampyr game #vampyr 2018 #geoffrey mccullum #geoffrey mccullum x reader #geoffrey vampyr #jonathan reid

[therewasatale]

stolen (Part 2)

Part 2 - take him back

(Part 1)

On Ao3.

There were two, polite knocks, he stopped at the third or he couldn’t have controlled himself and damaged the door.  

The latch was pulled away, an Ekon on the other side of the door blinked at the couple in surprise. "Dr. Reid, I am certain the Ascalon club did not contact you."

"I need to speak to Lord Redgrave."

"I am afraid-"

His fist thumped on the door cracking it. "Now listen to me, I know that new members joined recently. I also know that there was some of them who wanted to join to the club not so long ago but were rejected, or the Ekons themselves realized they were not good fit to join the club. Either way, a few hours ago someone connected has kidnapped the leader of the Guard of Priwen and I will find the culprit". He pushed his hand and the wood creaked and bent inwards. "You either let me talk to Redgrave, or I will tear down this door and drag him out from his hiding place by myself."

The Ekon already taking a step back, nodded. "I will inform him immediately of your arrival, please just wait a moment, doctor."

The latch closed and after some creaking, the door opened in front of him.

Jonathan let the rain drip from his jacket onto the burgundy carpet.

"Wait here, please." The vampire teleported away to inform master.

While he waited, Jonathan ran the scarf clutched in his left hand through his fingers. The only thing that tied him to Geoffrey.

He was sure he will find him, no matter what. If it needed, he will scour all of London and search over every house or building. No one could stop him. Time was working against him, however, and he was increasingly afraid of the state he would find the hunter.

Lord Redgrave walked down the stairs with faster and more measured steps than usually, his eyes fixed on Jonathan.

They met in the middle of the wide hall.

"Dr. Reid, I heard you're looking for someone."

"Good evening, Lord Redgrave." He tried to keep the furious edge in his voice as low as possible. "During this evening, three Ekons attacked a Priwen patrol in northern Whitechapel, three hunters were killed and one missing."

The lord only glanced at his left hand before he straitened his posture even more. "The one missing is the leader of the Guard of Priwen, if I am not mistaken."

"I have to find him."

"I'm afraid you are already late, Dr. Reid."

Jonathan took a step closer. "I'm not here for your opinion, Lord Redgrave. Who were those three?" It wasn't just a question; it was a threat. If Jonathan realizes that Redgrave lies, or misleads him in any way which could lead to the hunter's death, then the Ascalon club and every member of it will perish from the face of Earth by his hands.

Redgrave waited, making sure his voice was steady before he spoke up. "A week ago they asked to join, two men and one woman. Naturally, based on our gender rule, we immediately rejected their application. Still, we also realized that they wanted to use the club to destroy the Guard of Priwen."

"Sounds like a great opportunity to the club. Based on the Guard and the Ascalon's pasts."

"Dr. Reid, the Guard of Priwen isn't just an organization, it's an ideology, and as such thing it's almost impossible to destroy. There will always be those who lose one or more their loved ones to a vampire attack and swear revenge." He waved off the annoying thought. "The Guard of Priwen may be an annoyance, yes, but at the moment it is useful the way it is. Besides, they only wanted their own revenge on the leader. McCullum killed one of them before they ever submitted their application."

"And you failed to inform me about this because?" Jonathan tried not to snarl.

"Dr. Reid, you are no longer a member of the Ascalon club, so informing you is no longer our duty." Lord Redgrave tried to swallow.

"Where can I find them?"

"The other side of the Temple Garden. The edge of the Willows Street."

"You should pray that I find Geoffrey alive." He teleported to the door and swung it out in front of him, not caring how much it slammed against the wall.

For the first time in decades, Lord Redgrave felt that maybe, becoming a vampire wasn't such a good idea.

Icy water woke him up. It got into his mouth and nose, for a second he thought he felt that he was drowning.

"And he's still moving! Annoyingly persistent son of a bitch."

"I almost feel impressed; I mean; I can understand how he killed Alfred."

"He was my brother, you twat."

"I'm sorry, Sasha."

Geoffrey was finally able to open his right eye. There was some kind of light in the basement. Three red eyes glared him, towering over his still bleeding body.

"What...." he didn't even have the strength left to finish the sentence. His head throbbed again and every nerve in his body followed suit. He should be dead by now.

"So? How should we kill him?" Asked Sasha from the two other Ekons.

"I reckon, we should just cut his throat and watch him bleed." Answered the one, called Adam.

"Or, we could tear his stomach, and show him his own guts before he dies." The other was probably Peter.

"We can also just put a rope around his neck, drag him out and maybe tie him to a pillar? Then his companions and everyone else could see the glorious leader of the Priwen!" Her voice became filled with excitement.

No, this was the only thing Geoffrey was able to think. Just not that. Don't let everyone see what happened to him. Not the others. Not Jonathan.

A weak gurgling gasp left his body.

"I think he likes the last one." Said one of them. "Peter, fetch us a rope, will you?"

"With pleasure."

They failed to notice someone opening the entrance of the house. The newcomer searched around the building, not touching anything. In his hand he was gripping carefully the scarf. Finally, he stumbled onto the door left ajar to the basement.

They haven't even realized that they were about to die.

Jonathan stood at the door.

Right now the only thing he could see was Geoffrey's bleeding body. His heartbeat slowed down, his breathing became heavier with each inhalation. The Priwen was lying in an ever-growing red puddle.

"Who are you?" One of them asked, but it didn't reach Jonathan.

The smell of blood oozed around him, and made his stomach twist. Hunger and hate tried taking over his body.

"Hey he asked you?! Who the fuck are you?!" Asked another one.

It didn't matter what they said or wanted to do.

Jonathan let the beast inside him scream and take over. Darkness rose under his feet and folded around his body. He disappeared from the top of the stairs in a heartbeat. The first slash ripped open the nearest Ekon's neck, then the woman's head got smashed, finally the last Ekon died by his claws; they ran through his chest and shredded his heart into pieces.

Within another second Jonathan reappeared on the top of the stairs, panting from anger. His hands still shaking.

"Geoffrey!" He teleported right next to him, kicking one of the lifeless body out of the way so he could kneel down. "Geoffrey, can you hear me?!"

His heart still beat. He counted at least eight broken bones, and seven cracked ribs. His skin was covered in bleeding gashes in several places. Fortunately, there was no sign of internal bleeding.

"Geoffrey, please, can you hear me?" He pulled the hunter into his arms as gently as he could. "Please, if you hear me, please talk to me." His voice faltered like his heart was about to.

Finally, McCullum opened one of his eyes. "Took ya long enough..."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." With the end of the scarf, he gently wiped out the blood from the edge of his lips. "I'll take you to the hospital, all right?"

"Sure."

Trembling fingers reached up to Jonathan's face, slowly trying to wipe his bloody tears away.

"I'm not dead." Whispered the hunter.

"I know, thank God, I've found you in time. I was so scared." Jonathan gently kissed his hair. "I will keep you safe." He slipped his arms out of his coat and gently draped it over McCullum's body before lifting him into his arms.

"Just don't let the others see me." Geoffrey sent a small smile at the Ekon before he lost consciousness again.

The pattering sound of rain filled the room. Outside, the evening had long since set in, and the sun had disappeared behind the houses hours ago.

He woke up in a pleasant warmth, only the dull pulsation of pain spoiled it all. Every part of his body flooded his brain with signals for attention.

He blinked a couple of times, before realizing his left leg and arm where completely bandaged up, and so was his half of his face, and his right side too.

"Geoffrey?" Jonathan appeared next to him almost immediately. "How do you feel?"

"Every-" his throat felt like it was filled up with sand.

"Here, drink this."

The water helped, and made him feel a bit less weary and trodden-on.

"Thanks. I'm fine." He finally looked into the vampire's eyes. "I feel like shit, but shit that’s alive, so it's a win." A small smile lingered on his lips.

"When I saw you..." but Jonathan couldn't continue, he hid his face into his hands. His shoulder was hunched over.

"Hey, hey, look at me." Reaching out he took Ekon's face into his palm. "You did what had to be done." One of his fingers gently stroked under Jonathan's eyes. "It was either me or them."

"I was so worried, that I couldn't find you in time."

"Well, I thought that was the end for me too...I didn't even notice them when they appeared at the alley." He carefully stroked the vampire's lips before pulling his hand away. He let himself fall back onto the pillows. It was nice for once, laying in a comfortable bed, even if he was patched up and numb all over his body. "Thank you, but hey, maybe next-" the kiss finally silenced him. He was grateful, even after everything, he couldn't take this first step. He was never able to, just let himself be kissed and pulled into an embrace. Maybe he was a coward, but being a hunter and being in any kind of relationship with a vampire felt like he had failed everything he fought for so far.

Fingers caressed his chin and melting these heavy thoughts away.

"Where am I?"

"In the Pembroke, I had to take you here, and you will be here for a while. You slept through a whole day anyway."

"So you would trap me here?" The hunter asked with a half-smile.

"Oh, you can leave. As soon as you are able to stand on your own two legs, without help." Jonathan sighed, but his eyes smiled back at him. "Until then, you will stay here and recuperate. The others can visit you, if they behave."

"I would rather not see them right now."

"That's a shame." Came the snort from the direction of the door.

"Jim?" Geoffrey froze up. "What-?"

"The doctor, informed us that you're alive and here." The hunter took an uncertain step inside. He slowly crumpled the rim of his hat in his hands. "You look like shit, McCullum."

"I'm glad, I can see you too."

The two Priwens let out a small chuckle, before Jim cleared his throat. "But anyway, I just wanted to check on you, before I'll go out to tell the others, that your doctor takes good care of you."

Geoffrey rolled his eyes. "He's just some-" he glanced up Jonathan, but couldn't really finished the lie.

"Yeah, just some doctor, I bet." The room started to feel warmer. "I'll deal with the newbies, and the funerals. We can't delay to inter them, but we can wait you for the ceremony until you can walk. Jack and the other would have wanted the same."

He had to swallow back the bitterness. "Yeah, sure, thank you, Jim. I just need a week or two to get back on my feet."

"One, at least he needs one month, or three weeks" Jonathan slowly nodded, not paying attention as the injured hunter rolled his eyes.

"One month, all right." The older Priwen put on his slightly creased hat. "Then, get better until then, Geoffrey. Evening, Doc." He sent a small nod to Reid before walked away.

Silence fell on the room.

"He was actually, nice, maybe in the future your brothers won't immediately attack me when I’m out for a walk. I could finally have a peaceful night."

"Maybe," Geoffrey tried not to pay attention to his own blushing face. This night just started to become more and more surreal. He glanced down to Jonathan's hand, it was still gently holding his. Maybe surreal wasn't the right word.

"Maybe?"

"I don't know, I'm just tired, but don't treat me like a cat. I still have my pride, Jonathan."

The Ekon let out a small chuckled, that made McCullum's heart skip a beat. "I would never do that, oh leader of the Guard of Priwen. I'm glad you feel better."

Geoffrey let himself sank more into the soft pillows. "Yeah, me too. You bloody…doctor." He closed his eyes. At the limit of his perception, he felt the fingers that drew small circles on the back of his hand and palm. It was as if someone was calling his name, but the feeling was too pleasant for him to pay attention to anything else.

Jonathan watched in silence as the hunter slowly drifted off to sleep. He was safe and that was all that mattered. The hospital and this part of the city belonged to him and no one would have dared to attack him or those who belonged here. McCullum was the only one who tried and since then no one else again. He made sure of it.

"Dr. Reid?" Nurse Branagan appeared in the door. "Dr. Swansea would like to talk with you, if you're not too busy, doctor."

Jonathan suppressed an urge to roll his eyes. He had to make sure Edgar had his hands full and finally did something useful, after everything.

"I'm coming, nurse Branagan." He left a tiny kiss on McCullum's forehead before he left the room. "Thank you, I'll go and deal with Edgar."

Their eyes met, and Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Nothing, doctor. I'm glad your friend is safe." Answered the nurse with a small nod.

"Me too. Thank you." He glanced back at the hunter once more before he walked away.

#vampyr game #vampyr 2018 #vampyr fanfiction #jonathan reid #geoffrey mccullum #dr reid #mcreid #copper

[i-mybrunettelady]

For the writing asks "are you comfy?" For any of your ships or free style!

(@uselessidiotsquad )

listen... it's nyra hours... i'm sorry i can't write much else... she demands ATTENTION. also credits to you for inspo for this one bc recovery? fucking hard to write. not my best but that's okay.

-- Divinity's Reach, 1328 AE

-- cw for implied suicidal ideation

"I'm sorry for bothering you, Lady Ainsaph, but I'd like to see your daughter, if she feels well enough for it." Renira's voice is calm and even, a trained one for dealing with the aristocracy. And Lady Antonia Ainsaph is, by all accounts, a noblewoman; Renira immediately notes the expensiveness of her dress and the straightness of her posture. She doesn't follow the city's trends in their entirety, her neckline being just that much rounder than what the current fashion dictates, and her hair's done up, and, most interestingly, hairs are out of place.

It makes sense though, if her daughter's recovering from, well, almost dying in a war. Renira notes with slight disdain how clinical it all sounds in her head, as if she's making a profile on a woman who's done nothing wrong by being a good mother.

Antonia sighs and looks away. There's something vaguely Nyra-like in the way she does it, in the curl of her nose and the arch of her brow, pale where Nyra's is brown. "She is.. She's been fine this morning," she states, as neutrally as she can. "As fine as she can be at the moment. You can enter, miss Sulver, if Alys will have you."

Alys? That's new. Renira notes that too. "I fought beside her in the war," she says. And then, a layer of honesty, "I just want to check on her."

"Friends are always welcome here," Antonia says, beckoning to enter. Renira does, inwardly marveling at the decorated floors and stately portraits that hang around the walls. Of course, Duke Barradin and his kingly brother take central place at the top of a grand staircase, a firm reminder whose blood flows down Ainsaphs' veins.

It's so easy to forget Alysannyra Ainsaph descends from Ascalon's ancient kings, if only for the fact she never brings that up herself. But it's a well known fact that she is one of King Doric's many living descendants, if you know where to look. Renira looks at her own dress, pricey and elegant, and remembers a truly unremarkable Vera who couldn't boast any lineage beyond that of two absolutely random humans whose names she didn't even know.

But she's not here for old dead people. She's here for recovering patients. "Please wait here for a moment," the lady says. "I'll have a someone guide you to the guest area and please, miss, don't hesitate to help yourself to coffee or tea. I'll be back shortly." Antonia gives her a nod and goes up the marble staircase; a pretty, brunette valet appears from the corner and signals for Ren to follow.

The corridors are long and clean and once more, Renira can't shake off the strained feeling of all this excess. Vera slept with several other children, then on the cold, hard streets, while these people can afford gilded leaves in the corners of their hallways. Multiple. And butlers to guide people through them. The guestroom houses several plush chairs, a dark wooden table and a big gilded fireplace and they're insultingly comfortable when she sits in one of the chairs.

She should be used to this by now. She even looks the part. She knows better than to not, as Antonia put it, "help herself" to something. Fucking hells, she even wants to. "A cup of coffee, please," Ren says. "Make it very sweet."

The valet nods and leaves and Ren taps her heel against the leg of the chair. By the time her coffee comes, Nyra still hasn't arrived and it's only by the time Ren's drank half of it that there are steps at the door.

"Forgive the wait--" Antonia starts, but Nyra cuts her mother off.

"If you must know, getting dressed pains me," Nyra says. "I'm sure Ren understands."

Renira turns around. "I understand, Lady Ainsaph," she offers with a smile.

"See, mom? You can now leave us." Nyra looks a lot worse for wear; she looks tired, pale, there are dark circles beneath her eyes and the frown she sports isn't helping matters whatsoever. She's dressed in a white shirt, a sensible pair of pants and little else; her hair's messy and she's hardly bothered to style it. "Mom. For Gods' sake, just listen to what I'm telling you. I'll be fine. I won't fucking collapse. That was a month ago. I can walk on my own."

Antonia opens her mouth to speak but decides against it. Nyra hits her strong usual stride, and thankfully, Antonia's out of earshot when she presses her hands on the table to not fall over and groans pitifully when the action pulls on her injured shoulder.

Ren knows the type of person Nyra is. Running on ego, a fragile little thing, and when ego gets involved, things get ugly. So Ren doesn't stand up to help, not willing to get under Nyra's verbal barrage, though she frowns with concern when Nyra drops heavily on the chair, breathless.

"Can't even walk right," she hisses, looking at her hands. "Can't even walk right. I was killing Mordrem a few months ago and now I can't even take a few steps without keeling over like a fucking branch."

"Not your fault necessarily Mordremoth tried to kill you," Ren teases, though her voice is kind. "Are you comfortable?"

Nyra looks at her. A tear gathers in the corners of her eye and Renira reaches a finger to wipe it off. "Are there any news with the Pact?" Nyra asks wearily. "Is that why you're here?"

"I'm here to check on you," Renira says. "You took a pretty big blow in Maguuma. And you are Tyria's hero. What happens when the third dragon comes? And the forth? Who do we call? As your colleague, it is a concern of mine to check on you."

"And so you can put in your report on me."

"And so I can tell my superiors our savior isn't--"

Nyra grimaces. She folds her hands in fists on the table, sighing deeply. "Don't... Don't mention that, of all things. I don't... I asked for help. I'm getting treatment. Ren, please."

Ren reaches out and places her hand on Nyra's. "That's between you and me," she says softly. Nyra nods, looking down. "I tell them many things, but that? Never."

"I appreciate that," Nyra whispers, unfolding a fist. Her fingers are calloused and shaking.

Renira moves a strand of hair behind her ear and leaves it there when Nyra lowers her head down. They don't speak, but they don't have to. No words are necessary. They are not the point.

What a far cry from their first meeting back in Ebonhawke a lifetime ago.

#gw2 #inspo birb has come to town #alysannyra #renira sulver #not too pleased w/ this one??? #not sure why #but i'm posting it anyway bc i never really write about post-maguuma nyra #its very hard for me to do it #but enjoy ren and nyra being friends #cw suicidal ideation #fucking timeline inconsistencies #only visible to me bc i know my own lore #but if you look at nyra's description + the topic of convo you'll know when exactly this takes place

[anghraine]

So, err, I continue to only find the will for niche AU-of-my-own-fic GW2 content. For those who have any context, this snippet takes place in the ten-level gap between the first Order of Whispers arc (rescuing Demmi Beetlestone) and the second (helping the skritt/quaggan/whoever).

But seeing Ascalon, at last. It had grown back, people said: the trees, the flowers. Gwen could see them, touch them. She could set foot on the same land that her foremothers and forefathers had, back when they were prosperous tradesfolk in Ashford instead of starving on the streets of Divinity's Reach or desperately fighting for Ebonhawke.

"You don't have to go see it," Tybalt added. "Maybe you'd rather pray or something."

Gwen actually laughed again.

"You can believe this," she said. "I don't hate you at all, Tybalt. I'd be glad to see Ashford with you."

He clapped her on the shoulder with his good paw, and her knees nearly buckled.

"Good to hear," he said. "I don't hate you either, Gwen. Tomorrow it is. Meet you in the Trader's Forum?"

"I'll be there," said Gwen.

#no further context provided because /shrug #anghraine babbles #fic talk #fic talk: lightbringer otp #(uhhh that's not a reference to gwen/tybalt; it's gwen/althea ft. tybalt) #ascalonian grudgeblog #anghraine's gaming #gwen velazquez #tybalt leftpaw #fic talk: gwen redux

[whiskeyworen]

“Is that... Is that a microwave?” Cyrus couldn’t believe his eyes. Ever since the day he’d been ‘moved’ from his world to this one, he’d longed for the comforts of modern technology. He never found it in Kryta or Ascalon; the Charr loved their coal, oil, and steam tech, so they’d made some interesting forays into ICE technology... The Sylvari just grew everything, and the average norn was content to live in a patchwork yurt made of tanned skins. The asura had technology...after a fashion. Most of it was circuit-laden stone and wood, with metal embellishments. It still functioned like technology but.... it didn’t feel the same. Even hybridized Pact tech didn’t feel the same. But here in Cantha... In Cantha, all the trappings of home had reappeared before his tired eyes. While the others had been awestruck by things they’d viewed as impossibilities, he’d been looking for the little stuff. In place of television, they had holographic projectors, in all sizes. He’d stifled a laugh when he’d passed a kid on the street who’d had a pocket-sized projector and was watching some show. It had been some cartoon-y thing, and some part of him had perked up at the idea that maybe Cantha had a parallel version of the anime he’d loved to watch back home. He’d seen someone make a personal call to another using a similar device. Earpiece communicators were almost standard in New Kaineng, and when they weren’t, there were Jade Bots, and personal comm projectors. The moment he saw the prosethetics, the jade-powered artificial limbs some people had, he thought of all those back in Kryta who had peglegs, and of a Charr he’d met once who had a partially mechanized brace encasing his arm and hand. Of how things could now be different for them. And then he’d wandered past someone’s kitchen booth, in Bori Ward, and had seen them use two things he’d never seen -- in Tyria -- before. The cook had taken something out of a refrigerator -- for there was no mistaking that coffin-like, upright box... at least for Cyrus -- and popped it into the microwave sitting on the counter. “What’s a microwave?” Tenna asked, before spying the device. “Oh wow... what IS that?” She squinted, trying to see past the mesh on the glass of the door. “Is it doing something to the food?” Cyrus nodded. “Yeah. If it works how I think it does, it generates microwaves from an emitter inside, and when the microwaves hit the food, they warm it up by agitating the molecules. The mesh on the glass keeps the microwaves from escaping and doing the same to anyone in their path, while the inner shell of it keeps the waves bouncing until they hit the food. I don’t think it’s magic-based, except the fact they’re powering it with this Jade power but...” “That’s a neat device, but we have things like that back on the ship, don’t we?” “Yeah...we got food reheaters and things that function the same but look entirely different. Ours use modified fire-magic projectors and hard light heaters and things...” He waved a hand at the two devices, and then at the electric stove beside them. “These... I can’t explain it without sounding insane. These are so normal, it’s jarring.” Tenna looked at him oddly. They’d had plenty of conversations, most of which had sounded nuts to her, but always had that undefinable and unsettling element of truth to them. This was the first time she’d seen this particular look on his face. “What do you mean ‘normal’? This is freak Jadetech stuff.” Cyrus shook his head, and sighed. “No, I mean specifically from my perspective. You have to understand. Back in the world I was from?” He pointed at the microwave, and then the fridge. “I had both of these in my home. These look almost identical to the design, shape and size of those.” “It’s so damned strange. This is world of magic, monsters, liches, dragons, Elder dragons, Gods, ancient ruins and all kinds of weirdness. To you, it’s all normal because it’s the world you grew up in.” He waved hand again. “Those? That’s MY world there. A world I haven’t seen in nearly twenty years. And seeing it, here, now... knowing that Cantha is so advanced that it’s bordering on what my world was like technologically when I left...” He just kinda trailed off, lost in thoughts and memories. Eventually he roused himself and walked away from the booth, rubbing the back of his neck. “...They’re so close too. The dials... I guess you could still get some with dials, but I thought those went away in the 80s... I wonder if they’ve ever thought about satellites?...” Tenna just stared after him, fully confused. She looked at the amazing Jadetech devices again, trying to see them through his eyes. She wondered how she would respond if, thrown into another world with entirely new rules and technological philosophies, if she’d suddenly stumbled upon someone using something that looked distinctly Asura. How much it would stand out to her, and yeah, how jarring it would be. “....I wonder how much these things cost?...” She asked herself as she ran to catch up to Cyrus. It’d be interesting to ask him what other things were ‘familiar’ to him.

#gw2 screenshot #gw2 fanfiction #My characters #Cyrus Sigismund #Tenna Danae #got isekai-d #New Kaineng City #Bori Ward #Screenshot vaguely related #feels surreal #microwave oven

[fanaiceach]

@dualgraced​​ asked: ❛ i thought you… i saw you get shot. ❜

random dialogue prompts || accepting

      “He missed,” Geoffrey says with a grunt. He doesn’t entirely understand why some Ekons bother arming themselves in any traditional way -- between teeth and claws and the shadows at their beck and call, what could a conventional weapon add to their arsenal? Perhaps they think themselves above their baser instincts, too good to rely solely on their primal skillsets. With Ascalon getting bolder as the epidemic surges, and an untold number of outsiders hoping to stake a claim on London as it crumbles, these rogue but powerful Ekons are becoming more and more common. And they always seem to have something up their sleeve.

      In any event, the leech Geoffrey had been battling back had indeed pulled a gun on him. He’d fired wide, but the momentary distraction of dodging a bullet left the hunter susceptible to a much more typical brand of vampire attack. His scarf had protected him from the worst of it, but there’s still a vicious bite spilling crimson down his collar. Ekons usually bite cleaner than a Skal, but the stake Geoffrey slid between its ribs must have startled it -- he’d lost some flesh for his trouble leaving behind a messy, jagged wound.

      But the thing is dead, now, permitted to writhe on the street for only a few seconds before a crossbow bolt sunk through the back of its skull. He’ll leave the disposal to the rest of his patrol, as soon as they manage to catch up. The rookies need drilling on the importance of proper clean-up.

      “I’d rather a bullet in me than their filthy fucking teeth,” he hisses, unwinding his scarf from his neck so he can press the fabric against the wound.

#dualgraced #𝖁; 𝕺𝖓 𝕲𝖚𝖆𝖗𝖉 #canon verse??? or something????? idk i can change it if you'd like

[divineandmajesticinone]

Illustration by Charles Dana Gibson for The Streets of Ascalon (written by Robert W. Chambers) / Cosmopolitan Magazine, May 1912, Nº 6

#charles dana gibson #cosmopolitan #cosmopolitan magazine #illustration #art #artedit #usercandy #useralex #chewieblog #bbelcher #myellenficent #american illustrators #gibson girl #edwardian era #romantic art #the streets of ascalon #my edit

[vampyr-game]

"Rosalind Dawson" by Cristian-Marcus Buliarca on ArtStation

you guys wanna hear something interesting?

the character model used for Venus Crossley is sometimes referred to as "Rosalind Dawson" in concept art—so for any of us confused about what she was doing with Clarence, this seems to me a resounding answer (I'll grant that Venus continuing to live an upper class lifestyle while Clarence spent all their money on printing vampire awareness brochures is still a good read, tho whether that was explicit or implicit i don't recall)

but, yes. her surname clearly indicates that she was not originally conceptualized as Clarence's wife, but as a relation of Aloysius Dawson's. a trophy wife, or perhaps a public-facing high society daughter to make their family image look very good?

and i think we see something like a glimpse of this original concept in one of the earlier trailers—forgive the undoubtedly low-res screenshots, I'm on mobile, but!

Lord Firstname Redgrave is taking a bite out of Venus/Rosalind in this scene! and it quickly pans right, through a window and down to the street to focus on Jonathan approaching Ascalon club

so, what? did Aloysius give his daughter/wife up to Ascalon in exchange for membership/vampirism? is she cheating on him for a chance at vampirism? or just for the dubious thrill of bedding Redgrave? (tho I'd totally get it if he still had that beard...) or if she'd already become Venus by the time this trailer was made, then was this supposed to be how Clarence got his grudge against vampires—the attack/demise of his wife?

on the other hand, DONTNOD is hilariously guilty of arbitrarily populating the scenery with whatever NPCs they had on hand for promotional material, since they had none crowd mechanics...

[from left to right: Aloysius Dawson, Jonathan, a generic Ascalon Lord, Calhoun Russel, Emelyne Reid, Avery (I think), Loretta Swanborough, Newton Blight, Hsiao Shun]

these characters are drawn from every corner of the game—West End, Pembroke Hospital, Whitechapel—just to populate ONE scene in the West End... DONTNOD I am begging...

so! maybe Rosalind/Venus being in Ascalon club in that trailer isn't as deep as all that... but it's a curious tidbit I thought I'd share with you all! :)

#vampyr game #vampyr-game #thoughts #text #theories #concept art #character design #venus crossley #aloysius dawson #clarence crossley #long post #rosalind dawson #vampyr critical #for the aside about populating scenes haphazardly #meta

[ascalonianlightbringer]

I know it wouldn't ever happen, but as someone who almost exclusively plays humans and has been attached to the GW human cultures since long before GW2 came out—

I think it would have been cool if human characters chose a subculture instead of a patron deity. Even if it doesn't affect story or appearance options any more than the choice of deity, I think being able to affiliate your character with the Canthan, Ascalonian, Elonian, or Krytan communities in DR would be really cool for character flavor, and the gods are present both through the prayer skills and their general omnipresence in human culture, so it's not like we'd lose them.

You only get the option to select your subculture if you take the "Missing Sister" backstory, as it is. And that's just one snippet of dialogue to generate your sister's appearance, even though the human cultures are far more internally diverse in terms of RL ethnicities than they were in GW1. I think it would have been very fun if you could get a bit of flavor text or something about your community in the story journal, at least.

#i actually like the social class origin stories and how wildly different the tones are #the noble story is fun politicking with zero consequences for you personally #the commoner and street stories make you choose between life and death (for random people or for your own bff) #but i do think the different subcultures could be richer #in terms of potential stories and development for your character #and going from being able to play as an ascalonian refugee or a canthan protégée or an elonian sunspear trainee #to having virtually no cultural choices at all is probably my least favorite part of gw2 humans honestly #still love them best though #t: greetings friend #r: for ascalon! #guild wars 2

[salad-tales]

2 / 3 / 18 / 23 from the headcanon asks, if you fancy them.

[ @thoseofuswhoblossom ]

In game the cities are obviously limited in size. What part of a city that is definitely there isn’t shown in game?

Let me tell you about the Grove- yes i know, unsurprising. There is something missing in the Grove. Something very important. Living space. Anet cannot tell me Sylvari sleep outside, "on the street". There are huts and houses, but where to people retire for the night? You cannot tell me that the luminaries sleep in the honestly poor excuses of houses. I headcanon these houses as gathering spots for lessons. Unless you want to imagine there are multiple rooms!

Tell me how is someone, who canonly suffers from PTSD and is most likely in chronic physical pain, supposed to sleep without so much as a bed?

How big is the Pact in respect to other Military forces? Who supports them monetarily (they’ve had enough ressources to build Fort Trinity long before it was certain they could even take Zaithan)

Getting the leaders of all three orders to even just be in each others proximity is a feat worth noting. So persuading them to agree to put aside their differences and form an alliance has earned them quite some respect, even if no one was willing to say that out loud. A great deal of money comes from the orders themselves, but I do imagine thanks to some help behind the scenes, they have a few sponsors all around Tyria. Though after Zhaitans defeat, some of them weren't heard from again.

How old do people of various races get?

Are we talking about natural spans or magic/technology enhancements? Lucky Humans can live up to 100 years, ±a few. Now if there is magic involved, this number can be upped to about 120-130 at most. I'd guess Asura rarely need magic or tech to live that long, as It is in their natural lifespan. Given that there are lab-related accidents. However there are rumors that a handful have managed to grow even ~200 years old by various means. Charr.. uhm.. maybe.. I seriously have no idea. I would guesstimate more than a hundred years maybe two hundred to two-fifty Norn.. somewhere between Charr and Asura? Maybe a little bit older than Asura by natural means. Sylvari however.. we don't know. No one knows. Not even the pale mama tree or they themselves know. I don't want to say they cannot die by natural means because i'm still not sure I want to be running with that hc or nah but it is a possibility

Is it Autumn or does Ascalon just look like that™

I do imagine it's perma autumn, related to the whole ghost curse. There is so much magic coursing through the land, to keep the souls bound, that it even binds nature itself. Unless you break the curse, of course. Once that issue is resolved, i want to believe the seasonal cycle will slowly return.

#{indulged} #i actually only wanted to prepare this one for drafting but i got inspired #there are a few other asks still waiting to be answered but since this one is ready #it be posted #gw2 #guild wars 2

[aleximedicusa]

small vampyr verse details. 

— he was turned in 1856. he never found out who turned him or why.  — he was invited to join the ascalon club shortly after his turning. he wasn’t very keen on it, but he was new to the life and needed the support of people like him, so he begrudgingly accepted the invitation.  — he had to take at least two years off from his work as a surgeon before returning to it, to make sure he could control himself around blood. after he was certain that he could, he returned to practicing, and he still practices to this day. he has to move around every few decades to avoid the suspicion of why he’s not ageing, but by 1918, he’s back in london.  — he worked as a field surgeon during WWI. he wasn’t happy about being in such a miserable and violent environment, but he knew he had a moral duty to help with his enhanced abilities.  — he’s ambivalent on skals. he doesn’t share lord redgrave’s disgust towards them, but he doesn’t go out of his way to seek their company. he’s respectful enough of old bridget and others like her.  — he hasn’t spent much time developing any combat abilities. he has no interest in fighting. he has to learn some during the epidemic, just so he can get through the streets alive, but he isn’t happy about it. he prefers stealth over violence. if he does need to fight, however, he favours a quick slash of the claws to the jugular. fast and easy. 

#( * verse info. ) #( * v: vampyr. ) #i'm sorry it's spooky season i'm head empty no thoughts just monster lewis

[thirstyforred]

Wild Hungover ‘77 OCs 2/??

Founded over 50 years ago drag House of Phyllis still rules in clubs all over the city. Serving eleganza, extravaganza, and glam to prove everyone that the matron, Sif Phyllis was, is and will always remain the rightful Queen of the Night City.

this time it's more than just one oc. Welcome to the House of Phyllis

Sif Phyllis [she/her & he/him out of drag]

a prominent drag queen on the scene back in the early '20s eventually earning the rightful title of the Queen of the Night City

she always aimed to elevated drag as the art form it is, but at the same time tried to not forget about the camp and fun aspect of it - hence her name Sif, referring to the Nordic goddess, and together with somewhat ordinarily sounding surname, Phyllis, creating a truly awful pun

after becoming drag mother to younger drag performers and really immersing herself in the community, Sif brought his own venue, ran by queer folk for queer folk, knowns as Ecksanex Street. or X&X st. for easier spelling

Sif stopped performing only in the early 70s, but still the guests of X&X st. can spot her on some nights, strolling around her club in fantastic costumes, with the air of the queen she truly is

Sono Abish [she/her]

before her debut in '66 Sono was a programmer for Arasaka, but the corporation bored her very fast, and as soon as an opportunity arrived she ditched it to fully experience life in the Night City

she's a fierce performer, loved on stages all over the city, not only in X&X st., but in Samurai and Ascalon Clubs as well

she's also a damn good netrunner, with many gangs seeking out her talents - mostly to screw over Arasaka

one of her vices is that she's a real mean son of a bitch

but that wasn't an issue for one of the Red Riders' drummer that befriend her and worked together on drag and music-related projects

other unique friednship was formed with super model Sidonia

after the people how relayed on her hacker skills the most fled the Night City in '74, she moved out as well

Silver Fox [she/them]

European queen who moved to the Night City to join its furry community, where almost immediately she became the star

all over the city one can easily find the merch with silver vixen, nsfw or not, there are adult movies, plushies, energy drink, and even discs with Silver's comedy shows that she does from time to time

of course, all of their fashionware is the top shelf - synthskin that turns their skin into almost fur-like looking silver, techhair, so she doesn't have to bother with wig, and bio-ears and -tail, her most prized, custom made, possesions

early in '76 she started her world tour visiting all furry conventions, is planning to return to the Night City permanently by the end of '78

Rüdeboi [they/them]

the actual, biological child of Sif, but now also yet another of her drag kids

they get their inspiration from the club kids from 1990s, as well as emo from '00, and all other alternative movements through the years

after performing during Silverhand's Battle '71 in Samurai Club Rüdeboi got an album contract, which, almost like in the Red Riders case, made it to the mainstream fast

unfortunately, '71 was a bad year for artists all around and despite featuring guest appearances of Red Riders, their debut album, #dulcet, didn't make it to the 1st place on charts after failing to beat extremely controversial Digital Dead Bodies by Geoffrey Mcklemore [which wasn't even a music album]

#cyberpunk 2020 #cp77 #thirsty vs cp77 #wild hungover '77 #my oc #i swear the amount of double checking with my lore and timelines and whatnot... #cp77 house of phyllis

[undeadunalive]

Jonathan and his strength / abilities

As an Ekon, Jonathan harbours a wide variety of abilities, such as: 

Shadow veil ( literally becoming a shadow, can only be detected by other Ekons, Skals, Priwen Chaplains or others who have been trained to sense them )

Supernatural speed ( movement so quick that to the human eye it appears like teleportation )

Rage ( where Jonathan allows the beast within to take control, teleporting between and viciously attacking numerous targets with unfettered and violent fury )

Abyss ( Jonathan summons shadows in their purest and darkest form to toy with his prey before they strike )

As well as a wide range of other abilities.

Due to Jonathan’s purest lineage of vampire, having been created by the vampire entity, ( one of ‘ his ’ many titles being Myrddin Wyltt ) it was discovered rather early just how formidable Reid proved as a vampire, even as a mere new born. Lord Redrave admits this himself when discussing the fact that this young new born was able to defeat Fergal, a Vulkod, as well as other Vulkods in the streets of London, plus numerous Ekons loyal to the Ascalon Club, showing that as a young Ekon, Jonathan was was already incredibly powerful, even at his weakest. 

As my main verse for Jonathan is set from the pacifist route, Jonathan is at his weakest, being able to wield all of his abilities, but they come at a greater cost of sustaining himself as he drinks primarily from the likes of rats or small amounts of blood from patients. Due to refusing healthy human blood or fully embracing healthy humans, when using these abilities, they drain him more than they would in other circumstances and require more time and blood for him to recover.

That being said, this culminates in the fact that while Jonathan remains a formidable foe, that despite being able to fight far older, far bigger and far more experienced vampires, he’s still able to defeat them, although being at his weakest and stubbornly chooses to not allow what he can do consume him or give in to the temptation in order to be more powerful. He isn’t arrogant about his abilities either, if anything, they make him wary of himself, knowing just how dangerous he can be and the destruction he can inflict upon others. Instead of flashing his powers about, even for those who come to know what he is, unless asked or forced to use his abilities in front of people, he won’t speak about them. He will never deny that he’s dangerous, but he tends to say this in a broad sense, given what he is and his general disdain for what he was made into, rather than going into detail. In his eyes, he will only use these powers when absolutely necessary, if defending someone, or himself, this includes mesmerising people, which he only uses when he feels it’s necessary, such as if he needs information from someone to either help them or others. ( though he does remain wary, since he’s capable of breaking people’s minds completely if he chooses or if his victim’s will it too strong ) 

#𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍: #{ i dunno... can you tell I've barely slept the last two nights? xD }

[i-mybrunettelady]

🍎🌟📒💃 and❓for Ren? *v*)/

Ty for the ask <3 Shady lady time again <3

🍎For something they secretly wish did exist

Ren: “Time travel. Actual, real time travel, not what chronomancers do, impressive as it is. I’m glad it’s not possible, however, because if it was real, I would have died at 16 with a noose around my neck, but there were things I wish I’d have done differently. It’s complicated. I don’t think about it too much.”

🌟For a secret wish or desire of theirs

Ren: “Stability. Life of a spy is famously unstable, especially for a field agent like myself, but there are risks involved - risks about identity, about the lack of anchor in this world, all of which can change in an instant and if you’re not careful, it can come unannounced and that is worse than just observing it and anticipating it. Still, a family, a wife, a child, however distant a dream, is a dream nonetheless. But I’m not built for dreams, so I keep them at a distance.”

📒 For a secret journal/diary they keep (Bonus: Share an entry from it!)

Ren: “Again, a diary? You’re nosy. I like you. But you’re not getting more than you already got.”

💃For a talent that they like to keep hidden from others

Ren: “Any talent is both for hiding and for showing, depending on the circumstance. Let none make connections, suspect who you are. Keep them on their toes. But if there’s something I like, it’s botany. My house in Ascalon Settlement has a little garden - not that I spend any time there, but still. Plants are interesting. It’s a dream to grow a garden, to be kept at arm’s length at all times.”

❓ Free Space! Ask them about a specific secret!

Ren: “I didn’t always look like this. Whispers have many uses of magic and knives, some of which alter appearance - I’m told many of my colleagues underwent similar procedures, all to make a perfect agent. I don’t really remember what I looked like at 16, because it doesn’t matter. All I know is that it wasn’t this. Streets don’t afford good mirrors to look yourself in.”

#gw2 #ask meme #renira sulver #ty for the ask! #shady lady hours *sparkle*

[anghraine]

I'm celebrating the new year with self-indulgent Guild Wars 2 stuff of limited interest to anyone but me. I'm on vacation, I do what I want.

...yes, this is the long GW2 post with copious footnotes that I was threatening awhile back. Apparently "what I want" is citations for my headcanons.

I'm really fond of my GW2 main, a human female mesmer named Althea, and all the fic pieces and headcanons I've come up with for her. That said, I also have another human mesmer, inevitably named Gwen—I liked GW1's Lady Althea a lot, but my #1 GW franchise blorbo is Gwen Thackeray.

My two mesmers are similar in some ways. They've been shaped by the same general tragic event (loss of a sister in the Seraph), end up in the Order of Whispers, and come from proudly Ascalonian families. But Althea's families are wealthy aristocrats, like the original Althea's. Gwen's are the exact opposite.

Born to homeless parents in Divinity's Reach, she's dealt with poverty for her entire life¹/². From her youth, she has faced and trounced some of the worst threats in the city³. Where Althea initially gets by in her social circle through composure and repartee, Gwen gets by on the streets of Divinity's Reach⁴ through her personal charisma⁵, attractiveness⁶, and the ability to switch from charm to menace at a moment's notice⁵.

Gwen is just as fiercely Ascalonian in her identity and sympathies as Althea, but until the story starts, she's never been able to make as much of a production out of it. In fact, it's frustrating to her that the Ascalonians who are most able to speak for the community and get heard also tend to be the least representative of it (it's canon⁷ that Ascalonians rarely own land and have little representation in Kryta's government).

It's even more frustrating to her that the most extreme Ascalonian partisans, the Separatist terrorists, are used to de-legitimize all Ascalonian criticism of the Krytan government and the specifics of the peace with the Charr. Gwen herself is no Separatist. This is partly because she can't afford to travel to Ascalon in the first place, and partly because she thinks their tactics are stupid.

But she has many reservations about the price of Kryta's protection and Queen Jennah's assumptions of authority over Ascalonians everywhere⁸. In fact, those reservations are part of the reason she's so close to her friend Alice, a firm anti-monarchist and revolutionary. And it's easy for Gwen and Alice to see how the Separatists make for a convenient rhetorical prop to silence dissent.

Meanwhile, since Gwen also has the missing sister backstory, there is a version of Deborah in the Pact Commander Gwen continuity, but their dynamic would have been wildly different, given the game's implications that the PC from the streets was formerly part of a bandit gang.

(Sidenote: this also means that the Althea in the Pact Commander Gwen 'verse is a spoiled only child, which amuses me.)

While still quite young, Gwen and Alice ended up in a local bandit gang per canon, along with their friend Quinn and some other long-standing acquaintances. For some, like Gwen and Alice, this was partly for their own protection and partly in hopes of forcing change. Soon, Gwen and Alice in particular had proved their usefulness among the bandit gang, and gained respect from other bandits (the dialogue implies that the PC's absence created a power vacuum).

Gwen's older sister Deborah, on the other hand, was equally fierce, but resolutely rule-abiding and squeaky clean. She ended up seizing a chance to join the Seraph, the main branch of both military defense and law enforcement in Kryta, both out of conviction and in order to make a new life for herself. She was appalled at Gwen joining a group of bandits.

The sisters had a massive falling out—Gwen fell in with the bandits at about the same time that Deborah got recruited into the Seraph, and though their paths had diverged well before that point, they'd been very close as children and stuck together on the streets for years. Gwen saw Deborah as selling out, while Deborah saw Gwen going down a destructive path where she couldn't help her. They were basically estranged from that point.

Deborah chose to serve in the military arm of the Seraph, however, rather than local law enforcement. She quickly rose to become a sergeant in one of the Seraph's most successful and decorated companies⁹, one wholly dedicated to defending Kryta's people from numerous threats, but mostly centaurs. Gwen quietly followed Deborah's career and had complicated feelings about it, but they hadn't spoken in more than a year when the Seraph tracked her down.

It had nothing to do with the banditry. They informed Gwen that Deborah's company had been wiped out by centaurs. She didn't even leave a recognizable body to bury or grieve over; the attack had been brutal.

Gwen was deeply shaken by this. She'd been growing increasingly disaffected with the bandits by then. Alice had suspicions, and Gwen much stronger ones, that their leaders didn't really care about revolution¹⁰, and were instead exploiting the vulnerable in much the same way as the aristocracy, but on a more immediate and personal level. None of her friends were willing to leave, even Alice, but Gwen felt increasingly guilty and dissatisfied with using her flair with illusion magic for nothing better than petty crimes.

Now she used it to plot her escape.

Up to this point, Gwen had occasionally managed to sell her services as an illusionist separately from banditry—some of these services were benign (the carnival!), some less so. At this point, she quietly amped up her efforts on the "legitimate in the eyes of the law" side, aided by her ability to create believable illusions of herself back with the bandits. Once she'd secretly saved enough to support herself, she snuck away from the bandits with little but a purse, the clothes on her back, and a nicked sword she stole as she left.

Gwen managed to obtain various odd jobs over the next year, sometimes through her charm, sometimes through the usefulness of her raw abilities with chaos magic and illusions (and sometimes both, of course). She managed to scrape by with a roof over her head and even occasionally give a little money to Quinn, who she stayed in contact with—his mixture of loyalty and terrible ideas worried her. All in all, she felt like she'd made something of herself¹¹. Deborah might even be proud.

But that wasn't enough.

She wanted to do more with her life than drift between unstable and unpredictable positions in the city. And part of her wanted to make up for helping the bandits prey on random people. It wasn't enough just to survive¹². But the highly stratified society of Divinity's Reach made it difficult, nearly impossible, to do much of anything. Finally, she decided to leave the city altogether, and see if she could find better luck¹³ and higher purpose in the wider world.

She'd scarcely walked through the gates of Divinity's Reach and towards the garrison of the nearby village of Shaemoor, however, when she found the locals in chaos. A large group of centaurs was assaulting the village and had broken through the defenses put up by a small group of Seraph and Captain Logan Thackeray, who even Gwen knew¹⁴ had defended Divinity's Reach faithfully for years.

Gwen thought of Deborah, and decided her time had come.

If she could handle anything, it was chaos.

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¹"she's dealt with poverty for her entire life": the intro screen says, I grew up on the streets. Although I have friends, my life has always been hard.

²Also, the hero story screen says, my people are dirt poor and I've struggled all my life.

³"she has faced and trounced some of the worst threats in the city"—the intro screen says, I've faced the worst this city could throw at me, and I sent it home bleeding.

⁴"the streets of Divinity's Reach": the human origin options in character creation are noble, commoner, and "street rat." I chose the last for Gwen.

⁵"personal charisma ... the ability to switch from charm to menace at a moment's notice": in character creation, your general personality options are dignified, ferocious, or charismatic/charming (these evolve further throughout the game, though with minimal impact on play). I chose "charming" (No one can resist me when I'm at my best), though given the personal story, I imagine her with a broad streak of ferocity as well.

⁶"attractiveness": if you choose Lyssa as your patron, the hero story screen says I was blessed by Lyssa, goddess of beauty.

⁷"it's canon that Ascalonians...": in the Upper City, a random citizen wonders why there aren't more Ascalonians in government. Another citizen responds, "The usual. No land, no vote."

⁸"Queen Jennah's assumptions of authority over Ascalonians...": either Jennah or the Krytan royal line in general has assumed the title of "Regent of Ascalon," listed after "Queen of Kryta" on two separate occasions. One of them is in-game; the title is listed on a legal document in The Dead End in Divinity's Reach during End of Dragons. Neither the Charr nor the Ascalonians of Ebonhawke seem at all likely to agree with Kryta on this point.

⁹"one of the Seraph's most successful and decorated companies": the PC describes it in "The Fall of Falcon Company" as "One of the most decorated units of Seraph" and the successes of the company are repeated throughout the storyline.

¹⁰"none of their leaders really cared about revolution": Alice says in "Going Undercover" that Pete "doesn't care about the struggle at all."

¹¹"she felt she'd made something of herself": the initial hero story screen says "I've made something of myself."

¹²"It wasn't enough just to survive": in the intro screen, she says, "I'm done living hand to mouth ... I can take care of myself, but that's not enough anymore. Someone has to help those who can't."

¹³"to see if she could find better luck": in the intro screen, she says, "I stepped outside Divinity's Reach, hoping to find better luck outside the city."

¹⁴"even Gwen knew": the PC of any origin will say in "Defending Shaemoor" that "Captain Thackeray's never failed Divinity's Reach."

#anghraine babbles #ascalonian grudgeblog #anghraine's headcanons #anghraine's gaming #long post #gwen velazquez #deborah velazquez #guild wars 2 #riot alice