#artificer lucasta

[ratasum]

Yeah. Yeah, that's Kippa's cousin.

That's Gorr's daughter it's fine don't worry about it.

(Stole screens from @catmanderratmander. Don't look below the cut don't worry about it.)

Sike, cousin is a charr. Kippa still loves her though.

[commanderhorncleaver]

Pity the Fool

Horncleaver’s office was sparsely decorated and immaculately organized: this hadn’t changed in years, even after it had become the headquarters for Horn’s Gladium Outreach, even after the legionnaire–no, centurion, Terang Bulan corrected himself–had spent days fretting and cub-proofing the place. He’d insisted that they couldn’t be apart from the Black Citadel, even while the vast majority of its occupants glared steely dismissal and icy indifference down at them like hail and rain, and Terang Bulan had to admit that he had been right. Though it’d been slow at first, the trickle of charr looking for (or ready to accept)  help eventually became a near-steady stream on a daily basis, and their work had been recognized; the old man’s promotion had been sudden, but welcome.

“How long has this been going on?” 

Terang Bulan stood at attention as Horncleaver glared at him. It was rare that such ire (or any expression aside from mild annoyance or confusion) was directed at anyone within the warband; that hurt more than the numerous bruises that had formed which he hadn’t had the chance to heal.

“Since the rally, sir.”

The shame burned hotter as Horncleaver sighed. He didn’t know what was going on in the older charr’s head, but the disappointment was obvious enough. The two of them, alone for the first time in months–mostly alone, as Gloryana was curled in the crook of her sire’s arm, auburn on auburn like a puzzle piece, watching him with alarming blue eyes not unlike her sire’s–and it was about this. His fists clenched at his sides as he prepared to be shouted at, demoted, really the possibilities were endless now that he’d made Horncleaver upset.

A look crossed the old charr’s muzzle, but it was gone before Terang Bulan could identify it. Horncleaver’s free paw massaged his temples; Gloryana’s attention was caught by the shimmering light refracted from her sire’s glimmering horns, and the office was quiet save for the ambient sounds of the Citadel alive around them. Terang Bulan had never liked the view of the Citadel from these windows, because more often than not the charr below, cogs in the machine of the High Legions, reminded him more of ants milling around a corpse. 

“Cub,” Horncleaver cleared his throat. “I’m not going to say I understand how you feel; I’d prefer not to belittle you, and I know you’d appreciate the same.” 

Terang Bulan nodded, and the centurion continued, “However, I need to know what you’re thinking before I can help you.”

The situation, honestly, wasn’t even that serious; fights were commonplace in the Citadel, and neither Terang Bulan nor Kudo had pulled a weapon on the other. Rather, he was aware, the real trifle was that the Horn warband didn’t generally get involved in situations like this, least of all Horncleaver’s pet outcast and the asura boyfriend of his favorite cub. Terang Bulan’s tail lashed, and he continued to stew in silence as his throat began to tighten. When it was clear he wasn’t going to answer, Horncleaver spoke again. 

“I told you, years ago, to mind her boundaries. What made you think fighting him would help things?”

Terang Bulan didn’t have an answer that made sense even to him, let alone one that didn’t make him come off like an idiot creep, so again, he didn’t answer. If he was honest, the fact that he couldn’t rightly answer Horncleaver made him almost as ashamed as the fact that he’d lost the fight, and that only made his throat close up more.

“All right. Well, you’re being fined.” Horncleaver lifted his paw before continuing, “I’m going to handle that.” Then he shifted his daughter, scooting her into his other arm.

The frustration in Horncleaver’s features melted into something Terang Bulan recognized easily as the other charr continued to watch him: a mixture of affection and sadness tugged at the corner of Horncleaver’s eye. 

“I want you to take a leave of absence. I want you to focus on yourself,” Horncleaver said. “I want you to be able to talk about… anything. This is your warband, you should rely on us as much as we rely on you. I’m your legionnaire, Terang Bulan. Is that understood?”

Terang Bulan choked on his assent, and instead nodded. 

“This isn’t meant to be a punishment. I didn’t notice what you were dealing with,” Horncleaver grunted. His deep voice was resounding in the office, and Terang Bulan was momentarily distracted by the thought of how it must rumble like a distant storm in Gloryana’s ear before he could force his attention back to his centurion’s explanation. “I’m sorry for that, cub.”

[wisp-enclosure]

I've realized that the catrats have gone through a few changes plus I have some new followers so, just so I can hear myself talk have everything in one convenient place:

Who are the catrats?

^These guys. Okay thanks for reading bye.

Lucasta and Kudo are the eponymous catmander and ratmander for which this shitpost blog is named. And I [shakes them very aggressively].

Lucasta (Lu for short) is a Flame Legion charr that escaped when she was a cub and then raised by Professor Gorr in Rata Sum. She's easily excitable, has no attention span to speak of, and is your new best friend. She's a highly skilled artificer, in part due to her weird fucky-wucky magic, and uses those skills to make just...the funkiest runes and enchantments possible. Seeing as she's a giant cat and therefore does not super fit in with the tiny rats she's surrounded by, she tends to use a tonic to blend in with the rest of Rata Sum.

Kudo is (unfortunately for him) Kudu's son and (in catrat canon because it's funny and I'd do anything for the bit) Snaff's grandson. Any other Asura would never shut up if they had that pedigree, but Kudo is made of 90% anxiety and just sort of sees it as a burden. He's the bearer of two conflicting legacies and he doesn't seem to be able to live up to either of them. As a teenager his father forced him into the Inquest, where he tinkered with dragon energy and tried really REALLY hard to block the screams out.

Longtime catrat fans will know that Lu is perhaps one of the most emotionally repressed creatures to ever grace Tyria. Outwardly she is chipper and optimistic, but inside she's a complex tangle of emotions that she would rather die than acknowledge. Lu was born to serve. To be useful. And being emotionally vulnerable, putting that burden on someone else, is unthinkable. She's totally cool and fine don't worry about it. Are YOU okay?? That's all she cares about.

But great news! Kudo has his own fun emotional baggage! His years in the Inquest and subsequent hand in the suffering his father's experiments caused have majorly fucked with him. Kudo thinks he's irredeemable. He's got years of blood on his hands. That he's only 17 when the personal story starts, and that he was largely unaware of the atrocities his father was commiting are irrelevant. He was there. He should have known. His past haunts him, taints everything he does. Is he doing the right thing for the sake of it, or for attornment? Does he even deserve that?

The newest catrat lore updates!! Now they BOTH have identity issues!! Neither of those bitches know who they REALLY are! Lu only sees herself in terms of how "useful" she can be (an inherently impossible standard to attempt to reach). Kudo doggedly tries to follow his grandfather's legacy because Snaff was a good person and worth emulating (at the expense of his own wants and talents). Becoming commanders at such a young age is both a blessing and a curse: they've been given an identity, but it makes it difficult to forge their own.

They don't know who they are. Maybe they're no one outside of being the commanders. But when they're together, they each start to feel like someone.

Tiny rat hand in giant cat pawb, they begin to help each other figure out who they are.

(and it's all very cool and super platonic!)

New catrat lore 2!! Kudo and Lu have known each other for years before the personal story, as academic rivals (with Lu tonic'd into an asura). It's...shockingly healthy for them. Suddenly they have someone they can be themselves around (even if they're constantly trying to one up each other, that's Rata Sum babey!) They weren't friends but there was a sort of unspoken understanding between them. Once again, rat stuff. This rivalry never stops by the way, if either of them thinks they can get a scholarly one up on the other you can bet your ass they're going for it.

[ecunderbase]

\( •̀ w •́)/ i went to a #VSArtParty in gw2 (NA) finally

sorry if any of the poses are OOC, but if I had to draw the same generic pose over and over, I’d scream and cry U_U

also please help me tag all of your blorbos bc i forgor who they all belong to (; w ; )7  we did it, gaymers!!

Alba Moonseeker - @sylvaridreams Hosea Slei - @little-leaf-man Myolta - @myolta Luka Keen - @lackluster-draws Qirri Tinkerfirst - @ratasum Cross Nought - @where-is-caithe Necrologist Deff - @idrawtoomuch-gw2 Mycologist Seeli - @guildwuff2 Phoenix Rosemary - @forsaken-constellation Tenar - @ruadhri Artificer Lucasta - @catmanderratmander

[scythe-of-house-aurkus]

had to stick to sketches this go around, but I'm glad I was able to make it to the NA [VS] art party! didn't note everyone's blogs, but I'll list those below I remember/will update as I get any new ones:

Eislyñ - @lunecycle

Soileil Beaumont - @bonethot

Artificer Lucasta - @catmanderratmander

Infotechnist Plex - @system-architect

Arbera Wolfewood -

[goosemander]

Final Screenshot Dump: Group Shots

pic 1: Qirri Tinkerfist, Artificer Lucasta

pic 2: Lightbringer Zanthe, Infotechnist Plexx, Qirri again

pic 3: The Desert Rose, Morvan Riagain, Courtier Tanwen

pic 4: gunner, gneiss caulk

[ohpollenpowder]

This is just an overall shot of the VS party from the beginning of this month.

Here next to Veltan we have Lærling [Star] as well as Captaín Hemlock and The Dullahan in the background.

Small gathering of Blue!!! Artificer Lucasta, Explorer Kippa [OOPS], Blarq [BUTT], Gae Myr [FAE], Cyromancer Visi [LEG], Valendraxis [BUTT], Mourynn [Star], and Brawlotronist Junno [BLEH].

From where I had been standing Harrower Aizzik looked like Majora's Mask.

Charrcle!!!!

And Líífa [UWU] with Jinx Ruinbound [FOOL]

[alta1r1an]

Mr. Raevik, how do you feel about your siblings, particularly those you know are closer to your sire Horncleaver? Have you met your aunt, Artificer Lucasta?

Raevik looks up from the stack of papers he was going through. His eyes look weary.

"My siblings? If we are strictly speaking those close to my sire, and the distinction is useful with the amount of siblings, then I suppose we would be talking about Augustus."

He somehow looks significantly more tired at the mention of his brother, sinking away in his seat a bit.

"Me and my brother... we have not been getting along as of late. I do not understand why, I suspect August does not fully understand either (or he is not telling me something important). Either way, msot of our interactions have grown tense."

He sighs. "It is fine, for now we manage to get along well enough."

His ears twitch at the next question. "Artificer Lucasta? I am familiar. I have seen her come into my sire's office numerous times, one time about a... hat?"

He shakes his head. "Not relevant. We have not formally been introduced, it seemed improper to interject in their interactions so I kept to my place in the shadows and merely observed"

Raevik tilts his head. "Theyre.. interesting, for a Charr. Undeniably competent at what she does though."

[aaknopf]

In L.E.L.: The Lost Life and Scandalous Death of Letitia Elizabeth Landon, the Celebrated “Female Byron,” Lucasta Miller introduces us to the life story of a lost female poet, whose untimely death in West Africa in 1838 was shadowed by rumors of foul play. Read and admired in her time by the likes of the young Brontës, Elizabeth Barrett (later Browning) and Edgar Allan Poe, L.E.L. burst on the scene under these tantalizing initials in 1821, with a poetry column in the weekly Literary Gazette. Miller sees her as a post-Byronic poet, occupying the natural next chapter in a cultural story about poets as the tragic heroes of their own verse (a type expertly established by Byron). However, in a century that would bring us a wealth of female poets, L.E.L., Miller argues, was also a “proto-postmodern” whose true subject was not actually love but “all is vanity.” In the passage below, from a chapter entitled “Lyre Liar,” Miller considers the way in which L.E.L. negotiated the hypocritical culture in which she lived, using the language of romantic love to create a knowingly ambiguous voice, as she trod an increasingly tortured line between artifice and authenticity, disguise and self-exposure.

from L.E.L.

Critics at the time were profoundly unsettled by the extreme moral and philosophical relativism they found in her 1829 collection The Venetian Bracelet. It dis­turbed them far more than L.E.L.’s earlier innuendos had done. “In read­ing many of her poems,” went one review, “we caught ourselves saying instinctively, ‘There is falsehood here.’ But on a second perusal, in a dif­ferent state of mind, we are sure that we might have said, ‘There is truth here.’ Is truth variable then? Is there no external standard to distinguish it from its contrary?”

The most striking piece in the volume was the deceptively simple “Lines of Life,” arguably Letitia’s signature poem. The title was taken from Shakespeare’s bitter and enigmatic Sonnet XVI, which casts doubt on the truth of art, and on the ability of “barren rhyme” and “painted counterfeit” to transcend time or even communicate.

“Lines of Life” reads like a perverse parody of an evangelical hymn, and draws us into such a vortex of multiple ironies that it becomes almost an antipoem. L.E.L. twines us, and is herself twined, in the classic philosopher’s “liar’s paradox.” Is she, the poem asks, a truth-telling liar or a lying truth-teller? Either way, the reader is placed in an impossible position. So is the poet, who can only be true to herself by being false to herself, since personal honesty is an act of self-betrayal.

She begins with an aggressive refusal to reveal her inner self, which turns, paradoxically, into a confession of her complicity in the culture of lies:

Well, read my cheek, and watch my eye,— Too strictly school’d are they, One secret of my soul to show, One hidden thought betray.

I never knew the time my heart Looked freely from my brow; It once was check’d by timidness, ’Tis taught by caution now.

I live among the cold, the false, And I must seem like them; And such I am, for I am false As those I would condemn.

I teach my mouth its sweetest smile, My tongue its softest tone; I borrow others’ likeness, till Almost I lose my own.

I pass through flattery’s golden sieve Whatever I would say; In social life, all, like the blind, Must learn to feel their way.

I check my thoughts like curbed steeds That struggle with the rein; I bid my feelings sleep, like wrecks In the unfathom’d main.

I hear them speak of love, the deep, The true, and mock the name; Mock at all high and early truth, And I too do the same.

I hear them tell some touching tale, I swallow down the tear; I hear them name some generous deed, And I have learnt to sneer.

I hear the spiritual, the kind, The pure, but named in mirth; Till all of good, ay, even hope, Seem exiled from our earth [ . . . ]

More on this book and author:

Learn more about L.E.L. by Lucasta Miller

Browse other books by Lucasta Miller

To share the poem-a-day experience with friends, pass along this link

[commanderhorncleaver]

Oryen, what do you think of your two wayward cubs? Are you at least marginally impressed with what they made of themselves without your input?

Oryen pours tea into a cup that is almost humorously dainty beside his paw. "Is there some misunderstanding here? My cubs are not wayward at all--they're always within arm's reach."

He smiles at you in a way that is rather uncomfortable--the sort that holds no sort of emotion in it, and so only the coldness of his eyes is communicating any feelings. "Despite my confidence, though, they've done little to make me proud. They've stopped the dragons, it'd be remiss of me to downplay that, but to do what needs to be done is not worth accolades."

"Gaius is an irrelevant failure scratching at anything he can to leave a mark that shows he's done something, and Lucasta.... My daughter is worse; she steals her freedom, and does nothing with it? At least her brother tried to make his mother proud."

"There's little worse than an aimless child," he says, taking a sip of tea.

[commanderhorncleaver]

Lu glowers at Oryen as he lounges, almost entirely nude with the merciful exception of his loincloth, in front of her.

"What's your endgame? What is the point of all this? Fun? We both know your line about breeding 'perfect soldiers' is a bunch of bull."

She levels a claw at his nose, sparking with a brilliant cyan.

"And, follow-up, what exactly are you expecting to happen when you send these...strange guys to my airship, huh?"

"Sweet child of mine," Oryen meows, eyes crossing to look at Lucasta's sparking claw, "I recognize my own failings in your upbringing, but perhaps you could show a little appreciation?"

"Is it so hard to imagine that I'm concerned for my youngest's future? You only keep company with that rat, after all, and no matter how interesting his breed... you won't breed with him, will you?"

The question seems entirely genuine, and he languidly rolls over onto his belly. His hair fans out on the lounge as he peers at his daughter with one eye, and he betrays no trepidation. "I merely hope you'll like one of these suitors; you don't like your brother's human-raised boy, after all."

He affects an emotional sigh, and his long tail waves . "If nothing, you could at least consider it a thank-you gift for naming your strapping ship after me."

[commanderhorncleaver]

Lu hoists Glory up above her head, blowing raspberries at her all the while. The cub responds in kind, sort of, sticking her little tongue out and sputtering.

"Don't hurt yourself, kid." Lu says, gently tapping her nose to her niece's. She places Glory gently on Gaius's desk, where she slumps into a content puddle of fur.

Lu gives her a loving smile before flicking her eyes to the cub's father. She grimaces. "So... has he come to see Glory yet? I was just telling Auggie how his skinned pelt'd make a good blanket for her. Just sayin'."

Gaius squints as he lays his giant paw upon the cub's back, his fond gaze reigning itself in. Gloryana begins to rumble in that violent way cubs have--her rhythm is inconsistent and rises in loud spurts, but she's undeniably ignorant of the conversation going on over her head, and happy for it.

"He's attempted," he says. He lifts his eye to his younger sister, noting the rarely-visible notes of her agitation. "Efram let it slip that we were having a cub--but as of now, I've been able to keep him from getting permissions to visit the Citadel."

He sighs. "I don't know what to do yet, short of skinning him, as you suggested. I don't if I agree on presenting him as a blanket, though, perhaps a onesie would be nice, with little booties."

[commanderhorncleaver]

Lu lays across the chair opposite Gaius, back and legs resting on the arms. For a while she stares blankly at the ceiling before turning to him.

"Hey Gaius, you ever think about what you'd be doing if you were in Flame?"

"I assume you don't mean to ask what I'd be doing if I was with Efram right now?"

Gaius looks up from the paperwork he's been scratching his neat, tight and cramped handwriting onto. His sister looks restless, he decides, and when he does he realizes it's written across her face like a proclamation.

"I don't think about it, no. I've never been good at imagining such a fundamental change in who I am, or who I could be." He shakes his head; the urge to say 'it's not very charr' is rising, because that's how anyone else would explain it, but he knows the sentiment isn't helpful here, even if the meaning would be understood. "I've wondered who I would be if... If I had stayed a gladium, though. I think it's normal to pause and consider... But I'd advise you not to dwell on it too much. You're here. In a vacuum, things may have worked for the better for much of Flame, but one can only imagine how things may have turned out for you growing up there. The same goes for me."

[commanderhorncleaver]

Lu wants to know what size hat her brother wears so she can get him a souvenir from the wizards.

This isn't an option she is GETTING him a floppy wizard hat.

"It's quite unfortunate to say, but I haven't the foggiest idea what size hat I might wear, as I've never had the opportunity or circumstance to wear one."

He says this very gravely, all while the barest grin touches his muzzle. "It seems there'll be no souvenirs? At least not for me, yes? Will you bring something for your niece?"

[commanderhorncleaver]

🫵 what does Phlunq think about LU?

At first, it's large indifference, in the way of "I don't really interact with you, my college roommate and adoptive father do". After a certain point, though, seeing her, observing her (observing how Kudo behaves around her), observing their situation within the Eternal Alchemy.... it's all Very Interesting and he is going to interfere with whatever the hell is going on here as much as possible.

I think he likes her, though he'll very much comment on her self-sacrificing proclivities to her face like he's talking about the weather. We've seen a lot of how he interacts with Kudo, where like. He's a very malicious inconvenience, but generally isn't that bad? He's usually much easier on her, but he can't bear to not comment on someone else's bad habits.

He likes to pay attention to her tinkering, too, given the Horns are usually more interested in weapons (those of them that actually do any tinkering). Likely one of the few times you'll find him entirely pacified is when he's watching her, watching Gloryana (he's weirdly ((in his own words)) enamored with paying attention to her), or when he himself is working out something that's vexing him.

I think a common comment he'll make about her designs will be criticizing or complimenting her "tragically charr sensibilities."

[commanderhorncleaver]

Okay Pancake, what's YOUR perspective on your relationship with Lu?

"Artificer Lucasta?" Terang Bulan's voice rises hopefully. "She's great. She's--"

The great charr grimaces. "Did Phlunq put you up to this?"

"She comes around to speak with Horncleaver pretty often, or she'll come by to get Kudo when he and Phlunq get into it." He sobers, but is visibly still rather excited as he leans against his too-small desk, littered with scribbled sheets of paper. "Lucasta's... really neat. A genius, really, coming from where she does, and having earned herself an Asuran title?"

"But uh, on a personal level. I like her, you know? Horncleaver's said to mind her boundaries, and I try--I just. Knowing where she comes from, and where I come from--it isn't the same, obviously-- but she just. Seems like she could use a shoulder sometimes. She's got Kudo, I know they go way back, but."

He taps his horns and sighs, his pink eyes dropping to his desk, and hurries to cover up several of the pages. "It doesn't matter. Lucasta's neat."