They’re really interesting foils in many ways. I’ve always thought that Marcille & Mithrun have underrated dynamic potential. Give me the cringefail dungeon lords. Give me the elves with ears-centric metaphorical self-image issues. Give me the academic elites whose deepest strongest desires will always remain unreachable and the only option is to turn to the corrupt forbidden fruit of a demon pact. I am so so normal about Mithrun and Marcille
I wonder if the resemblance between captain Mithrun and general Hagreus aka Marcille’s fave in Dalclan is intentional… They definitely look very alike. It could represent idealization vs reality? Something something the romanticization of elves and their societal drama in their fiction vs a very real and imperfect product of their military system. The canaries certainly aren’t glamorous next to whatever Hagreus is the general of.
I feel like she never had the opportunity to notice the resemblance herself bc within seconds of meeting him he was wrestling her on the ground but. If she had… She would so think he should have been his actor in the tallman stage play of Daltian Clan in that new extra comic hehe. I love the little details like Hagreus’ lips being drawn with extra details because they’re full and pretty while Mithrun’s lips are drawn with extra details because they’re chapped lmao.
This art is all silly and surface level but in my head mithrille is like so dramatic and I make up daltian clan level big plots with them gbdgd.
I made a spotify playlist for mithrun if y’all interested, rn it’s mostly centered around cravings that consume and losing yourself and illusions inspired from his time as dungeon lord but it’s branching out. Varied vibes, levels of intensity and degrees of confusion and await you ✨ I would emotionally rant about Chainsaw Man ost lyrics and how they tie in with Mithrun and the winged lion’s relationship but this post is already a monster
I want more of these two please please please pleaseee just one or two interactions in the new canon content coming up… All they ever did was debate philosophy on desires and human self-fulfillment and try to murder each other, please…
I never get to gush about them and I can’t shut up so if you want more thoughts I talk about them more below
To get a girl to peacefully accept arrest follow these simple steps: in private, ominously stand above her and forcefully interrogate her, while in public, tell her you’ve met before (untrue and also not a pickup line) and interrogate her with a thin veneer of decorum. If all else fails, threaten and follow through on said threat. My guy needs more than just physical therapy I’m afraid
Sorry if most of these were Marcille-centric with Mithrun standing there looking cool, if I were doing these more from Mithrun’s pov things would be like "She’s a bit much but I guess I don’t mind hanging around her." or "Oh you’re a half-elf? -insert elven supremacist rethoric-" or "I have to keep her from becoming demon stew." immediately followed by "Did someone say demon? Kill kill kill kill kill" since these are set prior to like really knowing another. Then things would be more like "huh she has bad tastes in novels but her magic research is pretty interesting" and "I’m lonely and don’t understand myself— Oh she loves talking about feelings? Oh shi-"
That last one is an aspect of why I like Marcille and Mithrun’s potential dynamic lol. She’s very… Emotionally intelligent alongside being impulsive. You think you have no feelings because the world has beaten them out of you? Think again!! Marcille be upon ye! -In a therapy sort of way but mostly in a connecting with people and your own self through interpersonal relationships and talking kinda way. I just think a lively, upbeat, annoying friend way too interested in your personal life would do him good, the canaries are nice but like if Marcille went to prison and was a sort of extra new bunkmate I think that’d be interesting and fun to read is what I’m saying
Unlike Kabru she wants all the useless messy filler of his backstory, eating chips while listening. Like two chibi sets side by side, "me and my fellow canaries, name name and name-" "Hold on that’s too much info we have to compact this" vs "Then we were to sleep on the third floor of the dungeon, which had the look of a mausoleum, and name and name got into a fight over the campfire placement." while Marcille is like uh-huh what next what next while kicking her feet. She thinks of pre-dungeon pompous Mithrun and is like omg you went through a character arc and became better as a person- and then he opens his mouth and she’s like nevermind let’s keep working on that. She would also go "ew ur hair is greasy" and give him a full hair care treatment. What I’m saying is I need them to be forced to spend time in a dungeon together and become besties through a life or death roadtrip
Marcille is insecure about her ears, long, like an elf’s pride should be, but rounder, inelegant. Seeing Mithrun though, the epitome of beauty, with his half-cut ears make it a sillier thought.
Not sure if Mithrun is the best person to reconnect with ur elven culture with but it sure is an option
Marcille would so appreciate being around someone both cool headed and kind, I genuinely think they’d get along, like not that Senshi isn’t that too most of the time but I think Mithrun would be in a way that’s more refreshing to her.
I’d be so curious about them discussing Dalclan, I doubt he’d have read it but she could make him read it, maybe post-canon with the excuse that they���re trying to find him a new hobby hah. He’d tear into the writing and everything but it’d be a fun time, I like to think that it’d make him a bit less prejudiced. Marcille @ Mithrun "👉👈 Soo maybe you don’t know these books they’re pretty recent having come out 50 years ago but…"
I’ve been in a Mithrun phase I want to make and read Mithrun-centric fics and angst so baaad. I razz him a lot here but he’s literally a traumatized military man that became obsessed with revenge due to bad coping and neglects himself in the process idk not much for him going on and some of it is because he has to work on himself, but hey no one’s perfect it all comes from a place of love and relating though I prommy. He’s the one ungodly angsty squeaky toy blorbo with brain damage rep I have don’t take him from me
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Home sweet home [Trazyn/Orikan snippet]
(Working on a full version of this necrontyr Trazyn/Orikan request from @beril66 from some weeks ago. This is a snippet near the very beginning of the fic. Trazyn accepts Orikan's invitation to visit his private sanctum, under the condition he refrain from touching things without permission; given that they're flirting shamelessly before they've had the chance to sit down, you can see where this will end. 😂
Fic will be NSFW but this snippet isn't. Just two wise men having a wander.)
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"By the gods." Trazyn exclaimed in a whisper as they stepped past the door. "What is that?"
So Sannet had kept his secret, after all. Orikan was pleased. "It is the void, my lord."
"Over Mandragora?"
Orikan nodded. Trazyn had little choice but to accept it for the time being, but through the initial minutes of their entry he kept glancing up in disbelief. After all, despite the cryptek's claims, this void contained absolutely nothing of the Mandragoran skyscape.
The sanctum was about the size of a banquet-hall. Shelves and desks partitioned out each section, and the boundaries of the room's ceiling melted permanently outwards to a night sky swirling with stars. Since Trazyn had seen the tower building was domed, sealed over in other words, this was unusual; what was more, the skies over Mandragora were hazy at this time of year, whereas the sanctum's void was as clear as nowhere on the planet was. The works of sandstorms, towering industrial complexes, and falling stars did not exist in this place. Frozen in time, the mastery of chronomancers.
"Please come in. There's so much more to see."
Trazyn's cane clicked softly on the ground. Orikan lit a gauss-lamp and slipped his hand into the lord's. Save for starlight that was the only sort of illumination in the sanctum, glowing from standing braziers and orbucula studded along the walls, tinting everything viridian.
Laid out on a platform were several pieces of sempiternal weave, given to me by the Ogdobekh to examine, lord archivist. Lining the shelves were the tomes Orikan had collected over a lifetime of learning, including the ones recently gifted to him by Trazyn, copied in the archivist's own exquisite hand. Small elaborate glassworks dotted one cabinet, each refracting trapped light into infinite pools, hints of his interest in plasmancy. Trazyn rather thought they resembled Orikan's eyes. "Green they are, as green as spring, yet simmering with the void's furnace. They seem to me the way you gazed when we were met for the first time."
"Really?"
Orikan looked askance at him, somewhere between startled and smiling. It was not generally accurate to claim the Diviner saw anybody, for his eyes held the emptiness of oracles, forever unfocused and unbound to present realities. Most necrontyr lords felt this to be unbearably insolent (one of the many reasons why chronomancers went veiled) so for an overlord to remark on it fondly was a change. "I confess I'm skeptical they seemed like anything, since I was under my veil at the time."
"Now the master doth protest too much," Trazyn sighed in mock-aggravation, much to the Diviner's delight. "I still saw you, Orikan, we were many days at Gheden together. Do you not recall the tea-breaks, those long recesses, the banquets we the Nihilakh threw in honour of our guests? You had to lift the cloth sometime."
Orikan stifled a laugh. In those days he'd been an untiled cryptek, and Trazyn a young brash lord of Gheden, and they had probably spent more time being scolded by their respective dynasties than talking to one another. Still, they'd made an impression. "But then it isn't right to say it was the first time, would it?"
They moved further into the sanctum. Homelike objects began to appear, tea-things and cushions and robes hanging against the wall, and Trazyn surveyed each aspect with a different kind of fascination than before. "Whether it was or wasn't, it was enough times to promote your starlit eyes to truth. You look at me perfectly well nowadays, I've years of empirical evidence to prove it." He glanced back, fondly exasperated. "For the love of the solar gods, Orikan, would you rather I said they were dull?"
In other words: it's a compliment, dear one, learn to take it. The astromancer thought that was fair. "I suppose not, my lord."
"Trazyn." The archivist turned fully to face him, their hands still joined in the middle. Already his flesh burned with want. "You know you may call me Trazyn, like before. I'd rather gotten used to it."
Orikan smiled playfully. "Lord."
At that the archivist broke his word and drew the cryptek into an embrace, kissing him fiercely at once. Orikan allowed it, for as far as silencing methods went, he enjoyed this one greatly. With that they established that the rules were malleable that night, and that with a little patience and creativity, something wonderful might come of it.
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