bl4mewritesstuff

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Cyrielle and Michael

( notes/mini scenes/quotes cause i'm obsessed )

“She loves a brave yet gentle woman,

I am a cowardly man” -M

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

 “If I betray you, I betray our love” -C

“If I don’t betray you, I betray my family”- C

“My family is very dear to me” -C 

“Dearer than I?” M “No, no, not dearer than you” -C

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

“What kind of things did you do..?” Cyrielle realizes Michael is not the goddess, or rather god, she thought he was.

“I am not the woman you fell in love with” AAAAASNFIONSAOINFONSAOF

“I am not your kind and gentle wife”  Michael is so scared that Cyrielle would hate him for the things he's done for magic, and himself, that she only loves michele. But cyrielle could only ever love their soul AAAAAAAAAWNAP)IFSOOSNBFOBNOAF

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“Have my prayers been answered?” she literally treats michele like a goddess and if she were to see michael she would only care that it is their soul

“Don't tell me youre not the same person, you will always be mine” Cyrielle is a bit posessive but also feels their relationship couldn't really hold Michele (MICHAEL'S) 's divinity

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      Michael Macqoid

                      (Michael, Ma-coid)

                           —-----------------------------(he/him)---------------------------------

       -5’2

       -Wood carved elf

       -Rogue-Warlock, sage background

       (See drawing, not completed yet)

     —----------------------------------------

     Voice(?):  forcibly deeper, insecure but seems like he's trying to be serious/confident

With Cyrielle it will be sad and soft, ashamed

              -Common, Elvish, Common sign language

      —-----------------------------------------------

         - Is terrified of how Cyrielle would view him now 

      —-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fluffy lore

After running away together, Cyrielle and Michele would visit the town's libraries and find as much knowledge together as possible. Though he wanted more freedom..

Michael would steal books about magic behind her back

      —-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Michael's Pov

“I love you Cyrielle.. “ he paused, closing his eyes and bringing his head down in shame, “but i cannot marry you”

“What? Don’t mess with me love, w-we were made for each other” Cyrielle brought her hand to Michele’s chin, making him make eye contact.

His eyes started to tear up, “I cannot carve children with you. I..---” she cut him off

“We don’t need to carve them, i-is it the knives? The fireplace? I will right all of my family’s sins if it means being pure enough for you” Her voice trembled, Michele could hear her temper rising

“It’s none of those..! I just..” He trailed off, backing away from Cyrielle’s grip and turning to leave “I see your flesh and I can only remember the same hands that burned me.” he half-lied

Cyrielle’s eyes drifted to the scars on her lover’s arms, she did not see the much deeper scars their love caused him.

“ I see..” her words turning cold

Michele left that night. Never to return, but to live his life fully as Michael.   —-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If Michael dies before meeting Cyrielle, he will die with the regrets of never being honest to the person who loved him the most. 

If Michael meets Cyrielle, he will hope that she does not recognize him. But she probably will, and he will tell her all of his sins, to reassure she is not as unholy as him

If Cyrielle dies and Michael joins the party, he becomes a more closed off and serious character for a while. Hating himself for never being honest with her

[bl4mewritesstuff]

         Cyrielle Mathieu

                               Cyrielle Mathieu

            (SIY-ree-ell, Mat-tea-uu)

                           —---------------------------(she/her)----------------------------------

       -5’3

       -Human

       -Paladin, sage background

       (See drawing, not completed yet)

     —----------------------------------------

     Voice(?):  serious and monotone, very lady-like

But with michael it is soft and desperate 

              -Common, Elvish, Dwarvish

      —------------------------------------------------

         - Only dreams of holding Michele in her arms again

-worships Pelor

      —-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fluffy lore

After running away together, Cyrielle and Michele would visit the town's libraries and find as much knowledge together as possible. Spending their couple days fully invested in each other’s love. 

      —-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Evil lore

“I love you Cyrielle.. “ she paused, closing her eyes and bringing her head down, “but i cannot marry you”

“What? Don’t mess with me love, w-we were made for each other” Cyrielle brought her hand to Michele’s chin, rubbing her thumb against her cheek and lifting her chin up to make eye contact.

Her eyes started to tear up, “I cannot carve children with you. I..---”

“We don’t need to carve them, i-is it the knives? The fireplace? I will right all of my family’s sins if it means being pure enough for you” she was panicking, she cannot lose the love of her life. please. pelor.

“It’s none of those..! I just..” She stopped, backing away from Cyrielle’s touch and turning to leave “I see your flesh and I can only remember the same hands that burned me.”

a cold knife straight to her heart

Cyrielle’s eyes drifted to the scars on her lover’s arms, the pieces taken from her years ago, by her own people...

“ I see..” Michele left that night.

Never to come back. All Cyrielle could do was cry, and pray that she lives a long happy life. If that means being without herself, then so be it.

  —--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If Cyrielle dies before meeting Michael, she will have died thinking Michele simply hated what Cyrielle was. Making her feel as if she was never pure enough for such a divine person as Michele

If Cyrielle meets Michael, she will feel betrayed if she learns how he really left because he felt he was the impure one. Stealing behind her back and practicing dark magic. But in the end she will only want his approval and love, not caring at all

If Michael dies and Cyrielle joins the party, she may not recognize who Michael is. If anyone knows of michele in the party, and mentions that instead in private, she will be a little more reckless. Not believing she has any motive to be holy

(from the family that killed arwyn’s village and mother)

[bl4mewritesstuff]

Desirae Arvel

     Desirae Arvel            

                       (Des-i-ray, Are-vail)

—----------------------(She/her)-------------

-5’7

-Ranger, Soldier background

-Human

(refuses to be drawn, barely any reference besides things i may say)

-—------------------------

Voice(?): hates the sound of her voice so much she refuses to speak unless spoken too. When she does it is a sad gentle tone

Language(s): Common, Common sign language, Giant

—----------------------------

-refuses to look in any mirrors or her own hands

-full of self hate and the desire to be wiped clean of her sins

-treats every tiefling or mistreated person with 10x respect and kindness

-joined the army as soon as she was an adult in attempt to put her strength and loss of self to use

-planned on dying in the war but is now somehow in this weird party?

-Has nightmares of her sister's face screaming at her in almost all of her dreams, a normal one will end with someone turning into her sister and screaming at her for taking her life. 

-Suicidal af

—-------------------------------------------------------

Side lore

Their mother was infertile and made a bargain with Levistus, if she were to be fertile and carry an heir for her husband, she would repay him in any way he wanted. And he wanted his own blood in one of her children. Fearing what would happen, she agreed anyway and gave birth to Amaya and Desirae. 

Their father saw Amaya’s blue skin and immediately cast her out. Refusing to look at his wife or daughter, only paying attention to Desirae.

Desirae will be his legacy now. Neither of them mattered, only his farm. 

As Desirae grew up, she would occasionally see her mother hidden away downstairs with Amaya. He couldn’t kill them, so they were a secret. As far as anyone else knew, her mother died giving birth to Desirae and only Desirae.

Whenever Desirae saw Amaya, she was filled with guilt and fear. Her father had told her what a monster she was. Cursing their family bloodline and killing what was once their mother.

She would try to see her mother more often as she got older, but anytime she did it would result in a beating by her father

              She did learn a lot of useful things from the farm and her father treated her well mostly. But any mention of Amaya and her mother was just asking for a terrible day.

—-------------------------------------------------------

Evil lore

*Amaya has broken free from the downstairs, killing their father, their mother ran away into the rain leaving the family for good, now Amaya Has tackled a fleeing Desirae to the ground*

Desirae tried to shove it off of herself, but instead they both fell into the mud, forcing Desirae on top of itself and forcefully bringing the blood stained glaive closer to its throat. “DO IT. WE BOTH KNOW THIS WORLD WILL BE BETTER WITH ME GONE” its tail wrapping around her waist pushing her closer. Desirae couldn’t fight back her tears now, she began to sob as she looked down upon her very own face. They had the same eyes, the same mole by the neck, the same painful voice. Yet it's had their father’s blood smeared across their lips.

“KILL ME NOW YOU COWARD, OR ARE YOU SCARED TO BE SEEN AS JUST AS LOW OF A LIFE AS ME?” It mocked her. It wanted to die so badly and be rid of their sins, but still it mocked her. Desirae does not want to kill the one person who is supposed to understand her. Her twin sister, they're supposed to tell all of their secrets to each other, to braid their hair and take care of their family’s farm until womanhood together. But instead she is left with a shaky knife to her throat.

Her. Not an it. She doesn’t deserve the title of a monster at just 10 years old.

“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR DESIRAE?”

Before she could think of how to react, Amaya grabbed her hands and made her shove the glaive right inbetween her own ribs. Desirae could only watch in horror as the blood poured out from her chest. She looked as though she was trying to say something, a goodbye maybe, but no words came out of Amaya. Only blood and tears as her body went limp, letting go of Desirae.

She sat there for a while in shock. Unsure what to do, her father is dead, her mother has left, and now she killed her sister. She let out a painful mourning cry. Hugging her sister’s lifeless body, as the rain cleaned off both of their blood. Years of abuse may justify their father's death, But nothing will rid Desirae of the sin of losing a sister.

What did she do to deserve such hate and self loathing? 

From that day on, Desirae carried the guilt her sister once did. Treating herself how others treat tieflings. Self hate and anger filled her daily.

As soon as she reached adulthood, Desirae left her farm and joined the army. She hoped she could put herself to use and die an honorable death in the war. But somehow, she survived. Was it a sign? Maybe, but she chose to ignore it. Instead, she put out flyers for work. Hoping to use herself until death

*she joins the party* 

[bl4mewritesstuff]

 B.A.I.L.E.Y

                                                        B.A.I.L.E.Y

    (bomb, assault, intelligence, laser-guided weapon, explosive, y)

          —--------------------------(She/her?)---------------------

       -6’10

       -Warforge

       -Fighter, Soldier background

       (See drawing, not completed yet)

     —------------------------------------------------ 

       Voice(?): Straight forward and serious with most, motherly and gentle to young or childish characters    

              -Common, Dwarvish

      —------------------------------------------------

         - Has a lot of dents in her arm (like scars), some are from the wars. Some are from rough housing a little too hard with the kiddos

         -Hates how she was repurposed, but is grateful to have had a life with her kids.

         -Fucking despises rich people, but is very to the rulebook and respect-is-given mindset

      —---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Memory file 1.0

    “How does this thing work?”, “Patience dear, i'm trying”, “oh!, it moved it –” ;

Bailey sat up, fully conscious now and immediately going on guard. Where is she? Where’s– who was she thinking of again? What’s happening? 

“Who are you?” she asked, standing up and surveying the posh room. Two small beings stood before her. One adjusted her glasses, looking up in awe at Bailey. 

“Dear Moradin, it can speak” she said, standing back a bit now and inching her partner closer to Bailey. Her partner cleared his throat and puffed out his chest, intimidated by Bailey’s height.

“We are the Dumonts, and you will be our servant” 

A servant!? Bailey was no servant, she was a.. A. What is going on? Why can’t she remember anything about herself? Her life? She can’t be a servant if she cannot be sound of mind.

“You must be mistaken I- “ “There will be no discussion”. Mr. Dumont, shaking a bit from his fear of Bailey, took a step closer and raised his voice. “My wife deserves the best care, you will do her duties of a mother, or you will be smelted into her jewelry” Mrs. Dumont smiled mockingly and played with her shining silver rings.

They held no threat to Bailey, but could she really survive if she left? With nothing but her name, maybe it’s wise to stay in such a lavish house.  

During the next 7 years, Bailey served as a nanny for the Dumonts. Part of her fell in love with the job, the children, and the simplicity of being a part-time mother. She cannot imagine a different life for herself

           One day, as she sweeped the floors of the manor, a knock came at the door. When she answered, no one was there but a heavy cloth bag.

            Bringing it inside, she found it was firewood! how perfect, winter was right around the corner and they could use it well. She gladly put some logs into the fire and set it ablaze

     When suddenly, a familiar scent hit her.

      What.. what is that?

       Burning hair? Burning.. burning flesh.

        Dear (god name)

  .. .. the firewood it it smells like the war

The war? w what war? Bailey was never in the wars shes..

A nanny.. A .. 

        She looked down at her metal hands. Recognizing the steel and what can no longer be ignored as just parts. She is wearing armor under her apron. she… 

Shes a warforge. 

          Later that day, Bailey threw her apron in the trash. Hugging the dumont children goodbye and leaving without a single word to her capturs. Those filthy rich bastards took her from the war and made her a NANNY. No. Bailey is made for much worse than lively children. 

*she joins travelers and slays many beasts before joining the party*

   —---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

-Bailey remembers the wars from the scent of their firewood. The firewood smells a little like rotting flesh because it is from the wood carved elves. She remembers the people that died at her hands and those around her. And goes back to what she was made for

-that one audio like “now spell” is when she was a war prisoner and was tortwued :3

[bl4mewritesstuff]

Arwyn Quinlaand

A background on my current dnd oc, so when I write about her, I don't look insane :3

            Arwyn (Wiredook)  : maiden name : Quinlaand

                     (R-Win   Quin - laan {silent D} ) 

—----------------------(She/her)-------------

-6’7

-Carved from wood (Hair, skin, limbs their entire body)

-Wood elf

-Bard, Artisan background

(See drawing if you want clothing and appearance reference)

—------------------------

Voice(?): A gentle, polite tone she uses most. Mixed with a insecure forced confidence

      -Common sign language, Elvish

—----------------------------

-Colourblind

-Scared of heights, fire, and wood-carved furniture (just furniture, if it is human-like or for children she isn't that afraid)

-Has a little doll (Harper) she carved in her overalls, also has wood polish as lip balm

-Wears a (gem-less) ring, tooth necklace, and a ring with a brain symbol on it

-Plays a wood-carved lute and harp

-Carries 2 flint and wood dagger

—-------------------------------------------------------

Fluffy lore

Arwyn was carved from a block of wood. When Arwyn was being carved, she had 2 more rings than the average baby does centered around her forehead. Indicating she was a little more mature than those around her.

Evil lore

Arwyn was a young elf, 37 and ready to start carving a home with her partner. They had been together for 4 years now. She was far from their home foraging for things to gift her. She carried bunches of flowers, some in her hair, from a distance she started to hear shouting. Then, an  odd crackle from nearby trees.

She made her way back to the front of the village and could see a strange group of figures with odd monster-like masks carrying sticks with a bright strong light to it.

Arwyn realized then that the figures were throwing the lights at their wooden homes, setting them ablaze.

                                    Fire.

 She ran home, trying to get home to her lover and her parents before they could be hurt. Homes around her burned to the ground, elders and mothers tried to get their children out but most did not succeed. Being made of such flammable material, most burned with their homes. Those who didn’t get killed, were caught. Arwyn saw her friends and loved ones gagged and knocked unconscious. The masked figures stuffed them into cloth bags, their frantical struggling barely helping.

She finally reached the outside of her home, looking for her parents, like a scared child again. Her home. Everything was already burning to the ground. The only thing to snap her out of her fawn response, was her mother calling her name. She was running up to Arwyn, saying something she couldn’t quite make out. It was too late before she realized, “BEHIND YOU”, the fire pressed up against her chest as someone held her from behind.

She kicked and tried to slip free, catching a glimpse behind their sleeve, flesh. She could feel herself slowly starting to burn, her neck was close to turning to ash. She could smell her burning wood fill the air, something that could be comforting to other species, but to her kind it meant she would never be the same. She would not be able to be buried.

She was frozen in her capture’s grasp but her mother sprang to action. She lunged at the masked individual and took the light, putting it against their mask instead. Their mask was made of wood. No doubt made by their other victims. Who were these monsters? The fire spread to her mother’s arm. She screamed at Arwyn to “KEEP RUNNING, LEAVE and never look back!” as they both burned alive.

Arwyn thought to pull her mother out of the flame, but froze in fear of she too also catching fire.

Where was her father, her lover, her friends? Were they all dead? These were their thoughts as she ran away through the woods, listening to her mother’s words. Looking for a way out, she tripped and fell into a dimly lit spot in the open trees

It had just enough space to see anyone if they had followed her. But she was safe. For now. She sat down in the center of the open trees, sobbing and folding into a fetal position.

—--------------------------

Until they were 137. Arwyn stayed in that spot, away from civilization, new inventions, social norms, and such. She stayed there and learned music, the art of dance, and foraging. All sorts of artisan things. After 100 years of isolation, Arwyn craved to make friends again. 

She walked through the trees, finally finding a way out of the forest that was just out of reach this whole time. A village! Maybe she could find comfort in their people. As she walked through the town, children looked at her wood carved skin in awe. Mothers rushed their children past, some with guilty looks on their face. She paid no mind to it though. 

She stopped at a tavern, smelling sweet rolls from outside and comforting banter. She walked inside, making her way to an odd looking elf in the corner. She sat down next to them, and they were best friends :33

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

-Arwyn is now married to Merzurgert (Wiredook). When or how this happened idk he just kinda appeared and she fell in love with every part of his small self.

( she does not know common )

-Arwyn bonds with raven, flynt and kethof the most because they know elvish/common sign language and can understand her