#good call calligo good call

[rats-and-robots]

Alright block me now if you're not into dead dove content I'm about to go fucking nuts over Calligos. Also Transmasc Calligos, because Yes, He Had Lots Of Kids. Yes, he knows if that one noble woman is lying about her kid being a Winterscale bastard because he did not give birth to that rat.

Heretical content ahead, you've been warned, so here's a cute Daemon Calligos and Daemon Garion as tax for those who don't wanna click 'read more'.

I need Calligos realizing he likes being called a 'good little hunting hound' and wearing a collar when he and Garion hunt together. Bonus points if it's a Collar of Khorne so even his own god is calling him a dog. Garion attaches a pretty brass chain to it when he's being a bad boy.

I need him being fucking humiliated in front of his retinue because he pissed off Garion after the man became a Lord Champion of Chaos. Garion does this because Calligos decided he didn't want to be an obedient puppy and runs off and Garion decides to hunt him down, board the Vow, and pin him like a rabbit to the metal grate of his own ship.

...possibly even fucking him on his own throne.

I also need this man losing a fight and getting mounted by the winner who happens to be a khornate deamon and eight months later he gives birth to a litter of little flesh hounds and Garion tells him how good of a breeding bitch he is. Little whining balls of scales with little wrinkled up facial fins that Calligos feels like he should kill on sight but just... fucking.... can't.

Garion comforting him and reassuring him and getting him to actually nurse and care for the pups until they become his most valuable and loyal hunting dogs.

Calligos suffering and yet ultimately is still happy. Because Garion is cruel and strange, but he loves Calligos. He reassures him and shows him where the next hunt is. Because he's so tired of the politics and the bureaucracy and just. Being just a dog that's told what to do and what to kill is so freeing. And it's nice to curl up with his puppies. They aren't as stressful as human babies.

It Gets Worse when he and Calligos both become Daemon Princes.

[johannstutt413]

(requested by calligomiles)

Waking up every morning in a proper bed, in a proper building, with proper heating and air conditioning and water and and andandand- Waking up, period, was a strange experience for FrostNova since she’d arrived at Rhodes Island. Or rather, since she’d found herself in a bed at Rhodes Island, saved by the grace of whatever god presided over what remained of Terra and the mind-numbingly massive effort invested in the attempt to resuscitate her, every day had a dream-like quality to it, as if none of this was truly happening anymore. Her Oripathy, which she’d been sure would be the death of her, was stabilized, albeit on the precipice of falling apart should she even attempt to use her powers, so like many of Rhodes Island’s patients, she found herself busying herself with her recovery and administrative work. And it was during said work that she first encountered the red-hot mistress of the King’s Wand, Skyfire.

While Frost was processing a requisition for a flame-retardant robe (where did they come up with these things?), the Feline burst into her office. “You!”

“You seem to recognize, but I don’t recognize you.” She looked up from her keyboard. “How may I help you?”

“Spare me the pleasantries, witch. You were part of Reunion before coming here, yes?”

She sighed. “Yes, before coming to my senses, I aided Reunion. I have since repented of my foolishness.”

“The only repentance you deserved was being disintegrated.” Skyfire’s outfit was beginning to smolder. “Fortunately, I’m here to oblige you.”

“If you wish.” FrostNova, with a sigh, continued with her work.

She couldn’t believe it. Ignoring someone who was threatening her directly - the nerve of this woman! “Any last words?”

“Tell the Doctor,” she replied, without missing a beat, “whoever keeps burning through their clothing should ask for an inhibitor when outside of combat.”

“‘Whoever keeps burning their-’ what do you mean, an inhibitor?” As the Feline said the words, there was a snap as the elastic holding her bra in place came undone.

The Cautus noted this and carried on. “As a practical measure, those of us with dangerously powerful Arts can wear certain garments or accessories designed to limit their ability to leverage those powers. One of the less carefree members of Reunion made one for me in the hope it would meaningfully extend my lifespan, and while it was not entirely sufficient, if I’d made more regular use of it, it could have been. Miss Skyfire, I presume?”

“...Yes, that’s me.” She sat down in the chair on the other side of the desk. “Did the sound of my strap breaking give me away?”

“The smoke you emitted as a result did, at the least. If you would like, I can have a request in the Doctor’s hands by the end of the day for an inhibitor to be made for you.”

Skyfire thought for a moment before sighing. “Do so, then.”

“I’ll begin as soon as you’ve apologized to me.” In truth, she was already working on it, but she did want an apology. “You did threaten to kill me just now, after all.”

“...I’m sorry. Ever since Reunion killed the Wand’s beloved, we- I haven’t been able to forgive them. They must atone with their lives. For what they did.”

Yelena nodded. “I can understand the sentiment, but consider: did the man who killed this Phil already die?”

“They did not.” The Feline began smoldering again. “They escaped in the riot that followed.”

“I see. That is rather unfortunate. May I suggest you do limit the scope of your hatred to those deserving it, nonetheless? In this case, the ones immediately responsible for Phil’s demise?”

She stared at the Cautus disbelievingly. “Why do you care about the fate of these criminals?”

“Many had little choice in where their allegiance fell - without a better alternative, they flocked to those who made great promises with honeyed words, or were forced to join the mob by those rushing forward behind them.” She looked back at Skyfire. “But there are certainly some I would like to freeze where they stand and watch the life leech out of their eyes.”

“...That’s fair. I’m glad we came to an understanding.”

Yelena nodded. “Certainly. The Doctor should have that request in his inbox before the end of today. Is there anything else you need?”

“No.” She turned to leave. “I’ve research to attend to. Enjoy your evening.”

“Likewise.” ‘...Did my nerves play tricks on me, or did I feel the room heat up when she walked into my office?...’

-- -- --

A few days went by, and Yelena heard nothing more from the spitfire Skyfire. She assumed that either she’d gotten her inhibitor, and ergo she didn’t need to come see her again, or she hadn’t and decided to take the problem to the Doctor themselves. Either way, FrostNova had other things on her mind, so why should it matter?

...It mattered because it had been years since she’d felt even that tiny bit of warmth, and damn it all, she wanted to feel it again. During her time with Reunion, it seemed like that warmth was impossible to find, but now she had hope again, and if there’s one thing Yelena had learned from being saved by Rhodes, it was that sometimes hope was the key ingredient to making something possible. Fortunately for her, she had an opportunity not longer after coming to this decision when the Caster found her at lunch.

“Good afternoon, FrostNova.” Skyfire sat in the chair across from her. “I wanted to thank you for the inhibitor request; it’s been three days since I destroyed my clothes, and not for lack of trying.”

“I’m happy to have helped.” She would have continued, but after spending five hours in her office with minimal contact with other people, her communicative powers were somewhat shot.

The Feline wasn’t done, however. “There’s a side effect that I was hoping you might know how to deal with, since you’ve had one for longer. When I have to take it off at night, I emit a lot of excess heat, which means that now, rather than burning through my clothes, I’ve incinerated three sets of sheets in four days. Do you know where I could find a heat sink?”

“A heat sink?” Ah. Well, this was as good a chance as any. “I happen to sponge heat rather well.”

“That would be fine.”

Should have known that was too- wait. “I expected you to be less open to the idea.”

“Why wouldn’t I accept your help?” She shrugged. “I’ve grown accustomed to others seeing me without my clothes as a side effect of my Arts, and if it solves my problem as well, I’ve only gained from it...More than that, however, I think I know why you’re volunteering.”

“You know about my condition, then?”

 Skyfire blinked. “Condition?”

“You don’t know, then?” Yelena decided to ask the follow-up question after answering the Feline’s. “For some time now, I’ve been completely unable to feel warmth; whether because of nerve damage, a side effect of my Oripathy, a mix of both or some unknown third factor, I now chill the air around me rather than warm it. The other day, when you came to my office, I...I felt warm, for the briefest moment, for the first time in years.”

“...Ah. I see. That makes perfect sense.” The plastic fork in her hand wilted as she blushed.

The Cautus smiled. “Why did you think I offered to help you?”

“W-well, as a single woman with a prestigious position in academia, I’ve received several... offers of intimacy.” Half true - she’d received offers before achieving her status as an acclaimed scholar, but only after reaching her ivory tower did she regret not considering them more thoroughly. “And I imagine you’d have to be rather close to absorb enough of my body heat to have an effect...I’m sorry, I may have been projecting a little.”

“Projecting? Did you want me to be propositioning you, Skyfire?”

Caught like a cat in the fish tank. “...It’s rather lonely at the top, isn’t it?”

“You don’t have to climb far to isolate yourself.” Yelena paused for just a moment before she sighed. “Well, it seems I have no choice in the matter now, do I?”

“In which matter?” The Feline, for once, wasn’t quite following.

She brushed her hand against Skyfire’s glass of water, freezing it solid as her inhibitor redirected some of her ambient chill, on her way to handing her a note with her mobile number. “I’ll see you tonight. Depending on how...heated things become, I can’t guarantee your sheets will survive.”

“I have one more set in my closet.” Her hand shaking, she reached for the note, but found her open hand instead. “So soft, but so cold. Like freshly-fallen snow. Or, at least, I imagine this is how it feels to hold snow; I always melted it before it reached me.”

“Mmm.” Yelena’s words had escaped her once again, however, as radiating from her hand and through the rest of her body was the feeling hope had promised her: warmth.

Or, perhaps, love at first touch?

[siren-dragon]

According to Plan -- Ardyn Izunia x f!Reader

I know I’m cutting it a little close, but here is a small one-shot I did for Valentine’s Day. I wrote this really fast, so I’m sorry if it seems a little rushed and is rather short. Anyway, Happy Valentine’s day everyone! ^^

Summary: Ardyn wishes to ask you out on Valentine’s Day and plans a surprise evening for the two of you. Of course, the date does not go as smoothly as he had hoped, but at least everything went according to plan.

Ardyn Izunia was a man who loved surprises. He wouldn’t deny that he always had a flair for dramatics- a trait which had only grown more pronounce as time marched ever onward. However, it was more through his obscene and rather dedicated strategizing that his plans often resulted in his preferred outcome. And while his ostentatious antics did add to the effect; the greatest satisfaction was the resulting reaction of his intended victim afterward- be their astonishment one of joy or outrage. Yet none compared to the reactions he received from surprising you.

It was certainly childish of him to spend endless amounts of effort, time, and resources- something Besithia had voiced to him about on multiple occasions through several enraged voicemails- but it was worth it. He would watch your eyes brighten in shock, taken aback by whatever gesture he had thought to bestow upon you. But the twinkle of delight that always shinned from your (e/c) iris’ that was quickly followed by a quirk of your lips into a pleased smile, or perhaps even a laugh that beheld the warmth of a spring day made him wish to see that expression for all time.

And today was the reason why he had spent the last month and a half avoiding his paperwork in order to strategize this surprise for you. No matter what happened, everything will go according to plan….

“Happy Valentine’s Day, (f/n)!”

You smiled in delight at the box of pastries from Biggs and Wedge, “what’s this for?”

“Think of it as a thanks from us for repairing the ship,” Aranea answered with a grin.

“Plus, all the chocolates were sold out because of the holiday, but we thought you’d like cakes better.” Biggs added as Wedge nudge him in the ribs as a warning.

You laughed, “thank you very much. How’s the old girl running, by the way?”

“Better than ever thanks to you. So, I have to ask, what does Zegnautus’ Head Engineer have planned for the Saint Valentine’s?”

“At the moment, nothing. I’ll just be taking off early and having a night-in.”

“Really? I’m surprised no one’s asked you for a night out.”

“No, no one has. I even suggested to everyone if they wanted to have a movie night at my flat, but everyone said they have plans.” you answered with a wry smile.

“A night in sounds better than traveling to Lucis over night for inspections of Niflheim bases and dealing with Calligo.” The Imperial Dragoon rolled her eyes after stating the Brigadier General’s name, causing you to laugh.

“Well then, perhaps these will brighten your day.” You replied, moving to your desk and withdrawing three small boxes of chocolates. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“You’re the best Miss (f/n).” Biggs grinned happily.

Wedge inclined his head toward you, a small smile breaking across the stoic soldier’s face. “Thank you, (f/n).”

“My pleasure,” you beamed happily at your three friends.

After Aranea, Biggs, and Wedge left for their deployment; you continued with your repairs alongside your staff as time ticked by ever so slowly. By the time it was 14:30, you were more than happy to call it quits for your employees while you gathered the final paperwork of the day to submit for review. Already the members of your personnel were discussing their agendas for the evening amongst each other as others hurried to contact their significant others to inform them of an early day. Even though you had spoken about it to Aranea in jest, it was not a lie when you said that all of your co-workers seemed to be busy with the romantic holiday.

Unfortunately, you were so caught up in your own plans for the evening that you missed a stumbled slightly, causing the papers within your arms to soar through the air and across the corridor. Muttering a quiet curse, you bent down to retrieve the fallen papers and had managed to collect about half when a hand came into your field of vision, holding the other missing papers. “I believe these are yours,” a soft-baritone voice spoke politely to you; one you recognized.

“Thank you, Chancellor Izunia.” You replied with a grateful nod as you accepted your papers.

The red-head politician gave you a charming smile. “Not to worry, my dear- it was the least I could do. Though if I may ask; what was it that has your head so lost in the clouds?”

“Oh, I was just reviewing my plans for this evening is all.”  

“Is that so? I take it you and your paramour have something special planned for Saint Valentine’s?”

You shook your head with a small laugh, “I’m afraid it is just me this evening with my collection of movies.”

“Truly? I’d have thought you would have duels fought for your hand, my dear. Any man would be a fool to bypass a lovely lady such as yourself.”

Heat began to flood your face as your cheeks became tinted by a dusting of pink blush. “You are too kind, Chancellor. But, what about you? Is there a sweet maiden who you intend to dazzle this evening?”

Golden eyes met your (e/c) eyes with an intensity that sent chills down your spin as a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. “Perhaps…provided she says yes to my request.” Ardyn answered as he stroked his chin in thought, “I may be too late- for it seems she already has a previous engagement with a series of motion pictures.”

Your eyes widened a fraction as you processed who it was the Chancellor was speaking of, causing your pink cheeks to darken into a brilliant crimson. “Perhaps you should ask her. You never know until you try…”

Ardyn’s smirk only grew larger at your words. “Would you be willing to join me for an evening out on the town, Miss (l/n)? Let’s say, 18:00?”

“I would be delighted, Chancellor Izunia.”

It was only 10 minutes till 18:00 when a knock sounded at your front door, causing you to smile as you hurried toward the entry way. Placing your hand upon the door you opened it to reveal Ardyn Izunia, your companion for the evening. Gone was the grey long-coat, dark-green pinstriped trousers and steel-toed boots; replaced instead with a navy-blue suit with a matching navy tie and a crisp, white collared shirt. His short wine-red hair still rested in an untamed and wind-swept manner, though it seemed to go well with his formal attire. His vibrant amber eyes drank in the sight of you in your ivory ankle-length gown with blue flowers along the hem that looked as if they were water-colored onto the fabric itself. His mouth held slightly agape with you taking his very breath away.

“Hi,” you greeted him kindly, trying to fight the blush that began coloring your cheeks.

“And a good evening to you, my dear.” He answered, bowing courteously to you, “these are for you.”

Moving his left arm from behind his back, Ardyn lifted his hand to offer the bouquet of flowers which you hesitated to accept for a split second before taking hold of the flowers. “Thank you, that's very kind of you- achoo!”

“Are you alright?” Ardyn asked, concern coloring his tone.

You nodded, “yes, I am fine I just- achoo! I’m sorry, it’s just that I’m- achoo! achoo! I’m…I’m allergic to this flower…achoo!” you sniffed your nose slightly.

Ardyn froze in place as he stared at the bouquet in your hands, his left eye twitching in disbelief ever-so slightly until the expression vanished instantly behind a wry smile. “I sincerely apologize, Miss (l/n); it was not my intention to cause you discomfort.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not a severe allergy and I appreciate the gesture. I’ll just- achoo! Put these in a vase and…get some allergy medication, then we can go.”

Quickly you scurried toward your kitchen to place the flowers away and locked up your flat before returning to Ardyn’s side, graciously accepting the arm he offered to you with a smile. Once the two of you exited the lobby of your apartment complex, he led you to his magenta convertible and politely opened the door for you, gesturing with an elegant sweep of his hand to the passenger seat. “After you, my dear.”

“Thank you, Chancellor.”

“Now, now, Miss (l/n); there is no need for such formalities. Please, call me Ardyn.”

“Very well then, provided you call me (f/n) and not Miss (l/n).”

“With pleasure, my dear.”

The first destination Ardyn drove the two of you toward was an opera house, much to your surprise- though it did explain his request that you dressed formally for your outing. Yet it wasn’t the venue or activity of choice that surprised you the most, but rather the gentlemanly-behavior that Ardyn displayed. While he was famously charismatic to all within Zegnautus Keep, many often saying he could charm a beggar out of their last gil; it was rather curious to see the eccentric Chancellor in a more casual environment. And it was certainly disarming when he tossed you a devious smirk that made a slight flutter alit in your heart.

“That was wonderful, I can’t wait for the next part.” You spoke with giddy excitement as the Intermission began and the two of you exited your private box within the theater and into the lobby. “I have to say, for my first time at the opera it is quite spectacular.”

“I am pleased to hear you are enjoying yourself, (f/n).” Ardyn replied.

You nodded, “very much. It’s very kind of you to bring me here Ardyn, thank you.”

“I can think of no one more deserving,” his words caused you to smile in delight.

Unfortunately, the romantic moment was short lived as the two of you retrieve a few delicacies from the provided refreshments. Just as you were moving to retrieve a glass of champagne you felt a cold sensation down the entirety of your back and gasped as the material of your dress became soaked from a liquid. The scent of fruit and alcohol permeated the air as you tried to process how to clean the champagne that had spilt down the back of your dress. “I am so sorry miss, please forgive me. It was an accident!” the waiter cried in alarm at the consequence of their clumsiness.

“That remains to be seen,” you heard Ardyn spoke in a quiet tone that held an edge that was sharper than any blade.

“Ch-Chancellor Izunia…” the waiter muttered aloud in horror, as if they were staring at the devil himself. “I apologize for this inconvenience.”

“If you truly wish to earn some shred of forgiveness for your bumbling incompetence, perhaps you ought to retrieve some towels for my companion.” Ardyn glowered at the young waiter who looked like he’d rather be eaten by a behemoth than face the politician’s wrath. “Am I clear?”

“Y-Yes sir, right away sir!”

You watched the poor worker flee from the two of you as Ardyn glared after the young man as he collected what few serviettes rested beside the refreshment table and offered them to you. “(f/n), I must apologize- it was not my intention to have you doused in champagne.”

“I work as an engineer in Zegnautus Ardyn; champagne is not the worst substance that could have spilt on me. It’s…not ideal, but I am alright. Besides, I am certain you terrified that poor waiter more than enough.”

He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair, “you are far more forgiving than one typically is in your situation (f/n).”

“Well, just because some alcohol spilt on my dress, that doesn’t mean I’m still not going to enjoying my time here Ardyn,” you said kindly.

“Oh, an optimist. Such a rare creature I seem to have stumbled upon.” His teasing words caused you to laugh, the sound bringing a warmth to the chill in Ardyn’s heart.

When the waiter returned with the head of management in tow to apologize for the mess and inconvenience, they caused. Even though Ardyn suggested they return to your flat so you could change, you refused to do so. The two of you were still rather irritated as well as annoyed about a preventable accident, but you supposed that it could always be worse.

And much to yours, as well as Ardyn’s horror, your date with the Chancellor would soon turn from bad to worse the moment you entered the elegant restaurant. The hostess, upon recognizing the Chancellor as he had his arm linked with your own, led you to your reserved table immediately. Even though it was Valentine’s Day as well as dinner-time, the establishment was relatively empty and you assumed that it was likely the price range that deterred so many people.

“May I ask you a question (f/n)?” Ardyn spoke suddenly, pulling your attention away from the menu you were perusing through.

“Certainly, you are more than welcome to do so.”

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

You frowned slightly as you pondered his words, letting your eyes meet his own before you answered his question. “Is there a reason that I would not?”

“Taking into account that your gown was damaged by spilt champagne and I gifted you with illness-inducing flowers, I assumed this evening was not the most enchanting.”

You chuckled, “well, it has certainly been an exciting evening with the past few...mishaps. But the pleasant company more than makes up for it.”

He chuckled, “I agree whole-heartedly.”

It wasn't much longer that your food soon arrived and you stared in awe at the elegantly designed entrée, causing your companion to smirk. As the two of you began your dinner and continued your banter and conversations throughout the course if the meal, you couldn't help the blush that colored your face every time his golden eyes met yours, or how his voice sounded sweeter than honey, or the laughs the two of you shared as you exchanged amusing anecdotes. However longer you spoke with Ardyn, you soon began to have a difficult time focusing on him with how hot you were getting. You blinked a few times to adjust your eyesight but nothing seemed to change. A slight sheen of sweat began to appear upon your face and you felt cold yet on fire simultaneously- and your discomfort soon became apparent to your companion. “(f/n), is something wrong? You do not look well.”

“I'm alright, it's just a little hot is all; and rather cold too.”.

Ardyn frowned, “what do you mean? (F/n), what's wrong?”

“It's just that I feel a bit nauseous and I can't focus or-" your eyes soon widened afterward as you immediately stood up and tried to hurry to the bathroom only to fall backwards as Ardyn moved to catch you.

“Call an ambulance!”

Ardyn rested his chin atop his laced fingers as he kept his gaze locked onto the linoleum floor of the hospital ER. His jacket was resting in his arms while his tie was undone and his sleeves rolled to the elbows, showcasing the bright orange visitor wristband around his right wrist. You finished adjusting your dress and emerged from behind the changing curtain and replaced your hospital gown atop of the bed, ready to sign yourself out. Upon noticing your presence, Ardyn stood up and hurried out of the room before you could even speak, causing you to sigh.

When the two of you approached the help-desk, the nurse sitting there smiled cheerfully at you and offered you a clipboard. “I just need you to sign here ma’am, and then I can discharge you.”

“Of course,” you answered, taking hold of the pen and writing your name down with a slight flourish.

“Thank you very much ma’am. You and your husband have a pleasant evening and Happy Valentine’s day.” The nurse replied, collecting the paperwork once more.

“Oh, we’re not…never mind.” You sighed as the two of you exited the hospital and proceeded to Ardyn’s car.  You rubbed your arms to help against the late evening chill, to which Ardyn gently draped his jacket upon your shoulders as the two of you continued the walk to his car. He wordlessly opened the door for you and you climbed inside as he entered the driver’s side of the vehicle and drove the two of you back toward your flat. The drive back was silent and as the two of you arrived at the entrance to your flat, you took hold of Ardyn’s hand; halting his movement causing the two of you to stop on the sidewalk in front of the lobby entrance. “Ardyn, there’s something I want to tell you.... I just wanted to thank you, for the lovely evening.”

He laughed at your words, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Thank me? After this disastrous evening, which ended with you being emitted into the hospital due to food poisoning, you wish to thank me? I planned the perfect outing for you for a month and it was all for naught!”

You blinked in surprise, “you…planned this? For me?”

Though Ardyn continued on his rant, having not registered the words you had spoken. It wasn’t until you placed a gentle hand against his cheek did, he give pause and turn to face you. Your (f/n) eyes twinkled in delight as your lips pulled into a sweet smile, an expression of happiness and gratitude. It was then within a matter of movements you placed your lips against his in a soft kiss, “thank you for the surprise Ardyn, I loved it….Happy Valentine’s Day”

“Your welcome. Happy Valentine’s Day, my dear.”

Even though the evening was faced with a multitude of challenges, he had to admit that everything did go according to plan.

[the-wolfs-raven]

An Explanation

So I thought I might finally kinda outline how and why I made Tara the way I did with the background I chose for her.  I know a lot of people don’t like pairing OCs with canon characters, and I knew, even while I was researching, that I wasn’t just going to be able to put it out there without a lot of criticisim.

See, Tarvasha started out as a Warhammer 40k character.  She was a touch-averting, bitchy, angry void-master who slowly crept into being a Tech Heritic with a hard-on for the ship engineer who was basically just a brain in a metal body.

Her last name was Winterscale and, those of you familiar with the lore, would recognize it not only from Winterscale’s Realm, but also the current Rogue Trader of the Winterscale dynasty, Calligos.

I had made her one of his bastard children who resented him for not acknowledging her.  She set out to prove herself by trying to find the lost Baleful Eye (think bionic eye with a laser.  pew pew) of Sebastian Winterscale.  In her mind, if she could find it, perhaps she could prove her worth as a decendant of Winterscale.

Fast forward to getting back into WoW.

Originally, I had wanted to make her Varian’s daughter.  Why, you ask?  Because this is Calligos:

Big, hulking man in a position of power.  And dat chin.

However, once I started looking in the timelines, I realized it would not only be impossible, but also that it wasn’t what I wanted for her.

I did however, want a Varian-baby.

I also wanted Tarvasha to have blue hair initially, like her 40k counterpart.

So Tara became a half-elf.  God only knows how many hours of research I put into all of this.  What it came down to was this:

Her mother is Shalandrala Winterscale, a Highborne elf (like, student/council of Queen Azshara Highborne) who left Zin-Azshari before the sundering of the world.  She brought not only a fair handful of followers with her, but she also managed to sneak a vial of water from the Well of Eternity with her.

After some hundred years, the Highborne elves began secretly crafting halls of learning deep beneath the Tranquil Glades (present day Felwood).  The vial was used to create a new font of power which they hid from the druids of the Glades and used to continue their study.

This hidden sanctuary became known as Cartouche (named after a song by Blackmore’s Night which fits its ambience perfectly). and was hidden away from the watchful eyes of the forest’s druids.

Fast forward to a few decades prior to present time.

In small groups, the elves had been visiting the Kirin Tor, learning and sharing their magics and getting to know the strange beings (humans) from the other side of the water.

Humans seemed to have a natural affinity for magic, and did not need to rely on things such as the moonwells or the Well of Eternity to replentish their magic.

Shalandrala had the idea to breed with the humans to bare children who would be as powerful as the elves and as hardy as the humans.  Children who would not need to rely on the waning magic beneath the earth as they did.

It was a disaster.

While human/elf hybrids aren’t unusual, the rituals they used to ensure strong children backfired and caused a slew of miscarriages and stillborn offspring.

After several years of trial and pain, Shalandrala herself attempted the ritual with the help of a young man from Dalaran who was particularly gifted in the arcane.  It was a success, though it drained a great deal of the elf’s own power to bring her child into the world unharmed.

Tarvasha bears her mother’s mark upon her palm and with it, the untapped power within her.

Good, okay, got ourselves a half-elf baby.  As it turned out, however, I ended up giving her burgundy hair instead, so it was sort of pointless in the long run.  lol

It did open up an opportunity, though.  An opportunity to put her in the one place she could possibly have met and had some sort of relations with Varian Wrynn.

When the Burning Legion came to Kalimdor, they decimated the Tranquil Glades, turning them into the Felwood.  It made sense, in my mind, that the font of power beneath the forest would be an obvious attractant to them.

Now, Tarvasha had been pretty much ridiculed and spat on her whole life by the elves who hadn’t agreed with Shalandrala’s methods or who had lost their own children from it all.

That constant hatred came to a head the night Tara docked her own ears in a desperate effort to seperate herself from her mother’s kin.  With rounded ears, she looked human.  But her mother had caught her right afterwards and it drove her mind to despair, allowing the Legion to infultrate her conciousness.  When the Legion came upon the Glade, Shalandrala helped lead the way through.

She became known as a great traitor amongst the druids there and much of the rest of the Kaldorei.

Tarvasha fled the forest, originally running south into Ashenvale before turning east, desperate to get away from any elves she might’ve come across.

She ended up in Durotar, or the land it was before the name was given to it.

Along the coasts, there were fires.

And there were orcs.

Orcs who would have killed her for being a human were it not for a single savior among them.

Or so she thought.  The orc turned out to be a greasy slavemaster named Oog’tar.

Tarvasha was enslaved for years.  She bore and lost multiple children during that time and finally lost it when one of them was killed in front of her for being born without arms.

Her mental state landed her into the fighting arena with a pack of boars.  The deal was as such, if she lived, she could leave.  She would be let loose into Durotar to make her way somewhere else.

If she died, she would die with honor.

A final game played but her cruel slave master.

By some miracle, she made it through, though she wasn’t capable of standing by the end of it.  Instead of honoring the arrangement, Oog’tar sent in more boars.

Luckily for her, Rehgar and his gladiators were close by.  Varian, unaware of his past, called the detestable slavemaster on his bullshit.  When he refused to send the boars back, the warrior said he would fight in her place.  Oog’tar didn’t want to honor such an agreement, but Rehgar pushed the issue.  It would be good training, after all.

Needless to say, he took down every single boar in that arena.

When she was told she could leave, she begged the human to let her stay with him instead.  She would rather have been a slave with company than be turned loose into the unforgiving lands of Durotar.

Rehgar allowed it, for a time.

During her stay with them, she found herself enamored with the amnesiatic man.  Eventually they would lie together, though much of their time together was out of companionship of their humanity and desperation out of loneliness.

They did care for each other, though it was far from anything lovey-dovey.

She had been so excited when they traveled to Dire Maul.  Watching him fight... He was even finally given a name that wasn’t something she felt uncomfortable calling him.

Lo’Gosh.

Finally, her life seemed to be looking up.  In love with a Crimson Ring champion.  Away from the harsh climates of Durotar.

It all changed when they traveled to Thunder Bluffs, however.

Once Lo’Gosh retrieved pieces of his memories from the pools, she was all but forgotten.  Cast aside for his desperate race to return to his wife and child.

She tagged along for a time, but her gladiator was no longer warmed to her as he once was.

Tarvasha realized that she was baring his child, terrified to let him know.

She stayed behind in Theramore when they journeyed there.

And she found herself in shock when she learned of his true identity.

For some time, she had studied the royal family of Stormwind from books or from conversation.  When her daughter was born, she gave her the name of Varian’s mother.

Taria.

Now, when I created Taria, I got my timelines messed up bad.  I thought Anduin was older than he was, and I originally had Taria pegged as a teenager.

I was so fucking wrong.

So, enter Pandaria.

Tarvasha traveled there with her daughter.  At the time, she was a pretty reputable merchant and this was a great opportunity.

Beneath that, she did some scouting work for both the Alliance and Vol’jin’s rebellion against Garrosh.

During their time there, she left Taria with various innkeepers as she worked, eventually leaving her with Tong in the Tavern in the Mists.  Taria, at the time, was four years old and loved to hunt with her crossbow.

She hunted various beasts around the tavern, her favorite hunts being tigers.  The little girl managed to catch the eye of Wrathion, if only for a moment.

Tarvasha, during this time, had been captured by Oog’tar who was now a quartermaster under Garrosh’s Horde.  After being tortured and branded, she was freed when an Alliance squad took down the encampment.  Oog’tar escaped, but Tara was called upon as a minor witness during Garrosh’s trial to describe her ordeal under a man Garrosh had personally appointed.

She had written to Tong to bring her daughter to the Temple of the White Tiger where the trial was being held.  In the middle of their journey, a massive tiger came upon their cart and attacked them, wounding Tong and slashing the characteristic scars that now sit across Taria’s face.  The beast fell when it lunged for the little girl.  Taria held out a sharpened pole and the beast impaled itself upon it, much the same way Lo’Gosh felled the gator that earned him the name Crocbait.

Taria was crushed beneath the cat and near death as Tong carried her the rest of the way to the temple.  They were met near the steps by a hysterical Tarvasha, screaming and crying as she laid eyes on her dying child.

There was no one close by to heal her, most of them were up at the trial.

However, out of the shadows stepped Wrathion with a deal to be made.

He would make certain she didn’t die, in exchange for Tarvasha handing her over to him.  He had seen the potential she carried while staying at the Tavern.  If he was going to help, he was going to get something out of it.

She regretfully agreed to his terms and didn’t see her daughter against for over two years.

Meanwhile (mostly because I needed a way for her to exist as something other than a child since I’d already leveled the toon) Taria was aged using a combination of chronomancy and mental manipulation.  She was educated and became a fully fledged adult.

I don’t do that child trapped in an adult body crap.  That’s just weird.

I wanted her to be a fully grown warrior and that’s what she became.

In the time before they were reunited, Taria asked to spend her off-time in Durotar.  She had been told many stories about her father, Lo’Gosh, champion of the Crimson Ring, and was convinced he had been an orc.  With her size, it was a reasonable mistake.  Despite not having green skin or tusks, she was certainly as large as a female orc.

After some time, she gained the interest and tolerance of some of the orcs in outlying villages, many of which were too old to care about one human or too young to do anything about her.  Some fought her, some taught her.  But she gained a fascination and appreciation for the race which her father, unknown to her, was once enslaved by.

Eventually, Taria learned of her father’s identity and struggles everytime she passes by Stormwind Keep, aching to know her brother, but knowing better than to reveal herself to the world.

It is a secret that very few know.  Valeera, Wrathion, and Tarvasha’s first husband being about half of them.

Well, this outline turned into a history lesson.  Hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it, and thanks so much for reading!

Oh, and here’s Taria’s Tumblr for anyone interested in my angry Lo’Gosh-baby:  @thepalewolfhowls

[the-truth-will-light-the-sky]

Pandora’s Box

@ravus-week​ Day 2 Prompt: Day Off

Summary: Away from Gralea for a time, Ravus Nox Fleuret returns home to Tenebrae. He skillfully plays his favorite instrument as a sort of reprieve yet forgetting his role as Niflheim’s commander for a while strips him of his facade, pushing him to unwittingly dabble with his box of emotions and fear.

Pairing: Ravus Nox Fleuret and Veritas Lux Seculum (oc)

Warning: Slightly mature, angst, mentions of death

Footsteps echoed in the halls of white within Fenestala Manor, the sunlight filtering through the foliage that tapped on tall, clear windows on a bright morning. The footsteps ceased in front of a gigantic door that was left ajar. Creaking as it opened further, the sound of soft piano keys spilled from the brightly lit room into her eager ears.

Veritas Lux Seculum smiled at the figure whose brows were uncharacteristically calm and beneath those were the palest blue eyes of young sylleblossom colors. As she walked towards him, Ravus’ lips curled upwards in a smile.

‘You always know when I’m coming.’

‘Quite so. Those soundless steps are betrayed by your perfume. Soft notes of spring florals do suit you well, my darling.’ 

‘Perhaps I ought to refrain from putting it on. What kind of guard am I if I could be detected just as easily?’

Ravus chuckled, tilting his head to the side to look her in the eyes. Strands of stray hair drooped down on his face as a playful smirk spreads across his lips, eyes full of mirth.

‘Leave it on. I shall miss this scent once I’m away again.’

Seeing her blush at his honest declaration, Ravus pushed on as the piano keys shifted to a livelier tune.

‘Although, I do not need to put perfume on my person anymore. Your scent seems to have seeped in to my clothes. I like it. It’s rather comforting, especially at night.’

Veritas found herself breathing in deep at his openness, her hand resting upon his shoulder as he continued to play.

Ravus scooted to the side of the bench and she sat down. Her warmth enveloping him in an embrace. The momentum of shifting keys slowed down to a familiar gentle tune. Veritas hoped she remembers the notes her lover taught her the first time she tried to play the piano.

‘Shall I?’

Veritas asked meekly, surprised to even find her voice at a very delicate moment such as this one.

‘If you would, that would be a delight.’

‘I might make mistakes. I always do, in fact.’

The soft chuckle that escaped Ravus’ lips was encouragement enough so she lifted her fingers up and started following his playing. Her clumsy fingers and her lack of good memory skill for remembering even a short piece indeed pushed her to make mistakes despite her willingness to learn.

Ravus continued to play on his left hand as his right one gently lifted up his lover’s fingers, carefully placing them on the correct keys. 

Chuckling nervously, either because of another mistake or with the sudden touch of his skin on hers, Veritas pushed on, trying her very best to follow through.

Another mistake, oh dear. 

As he played, Ravus leaned lower to his side and kissed her hair, his chuckle reverberating with every wrong tone that echoes in his brightly lit library. 

He smiled and secretly hoped that she would make more mistakes. He would freely give his kisses if she wished for it. And she does, thank the stars.

The shadows cast by the Tenebraen oaks outside the window shifted, slowly then violently, submitting to the whims of the summer breeze.

The lovers kept on playing and correcting for a while until their throats reminded them of thirst.

‘Ah, no wonder. We’ve been playing for an hour. Or I should say you have been playing. Shall we take a break?’

Veritas suggested, stretching her hands above her head as she did. 

Ravus watched her, his eyes falling to the golden necklace of two hands joined together in a loving clasp.

Noticing his curious observation, she turned in her seat to face him fully, her eyes shining in mirth.

She leaned closer to inspect his neck where a similar adornment should be.

‘And where is yours, Ravus? I thought you hoped to always see this upon my person all day and even all night.’

Veritas teased, her eyes searching for a hint of soft gold on his neck, only for the lord of Tenebrae to fasten his hands on hers before she can part his collar.

‘My goodness. Surely you would have the decency not to undress me here? If you missed me so much Veritas, pray tell me. I shall endeavor to please.’

Ravus’ eyes turned a shade darker. His initial gentleness slowly being replaced by a mischievous and suggestive demeanor, his hands wanting to wander someplace else.

A surge of red tinged the cheeks of a stunned Veritas, the sudden slightly naughty proposition of her usually stoic lover sent a jolt of surprise.

‘N-no! I would not do such a thing! I daresay it is you who missed me so. Cheeky!’

She did not pry her hands away from his iron grip. Instead, she pulled him to her gently, pressing her forehead to his.

As Ravus bent towards her, a faint shine of soft gold caught her eyes — it was the same necklace they both share, and it was neatly tucked beneath his inner shirt.

‘Ah, there it is. I’m quite pleased to see it around your neck, Ravus. Shall we have tea then?’

Ravus pulled away to cast her a look of disappointment.

‘Tea can wait, my darling. I, on the other hand, could not.’

Hot cheeks turner even redder, Veritas pulled her hands away from her lover’s grip. Ravus reached out to grab her once again but she agilely dodged to safety.

‘No more, darling! I’ll shall steep the tea. And if you would rather conduct yourself as a proper lord of Tenebrae would, you would keep your teasing in the latter part of the day.’

Veritas warned as Ravus sighed, her petite frame tiptoeing to reach for the tea pot that sat on the highest part of the shelf by his collection of illustrated books of flora and fauna.

Seeing her dilemma, Ravus stood and acquired it for her, only to keep it on its perch, his body bending down to reach his lover’s lips. 

Veritas’ eyebrows knit together, yet still she tipped her toes again so that she may reach his eager lips.

A soft kiss, but it was much appreciated and loved.

Ravus’ eyes softened even further, seemingly melting in the short but intimate moment.

Tea and scones with fresh fruit jam laid on top of the table, silence and the occasional banters and laughter filling the room. 

Ravus misses moments like these where all he could ever worry about is how to be able to coax his beloved into spending more time with him than what was necessary or possible. There was no one to demand him of anything, really. He can be himself once again in her presence.

Seeing her in his home with his sister along with everyone and everything he grew up with gave Ravus a wonderful surge of emotions. Emotions that, according to him, were quite unnecessary now given the circumstances of their fate. But even for just a day, they’re welcome to come back to the young prince that slept deep within Ravus Nox Fleuret’s hardened heart.

Veritas’ feet swung from the chair, a carefree smile etched upon her youthful face. She sipped her tea slowly, her eyes resting upon the sylleblossom flowers  on the table.

‘The flowers are blooming really well this summer. The farmers even made tea out of sylleblossoms. It’s a rather new trend but it seems like everyone’s gone fond of them. Perhaps you’d like to see the farms tomorrow? The people miss you, Ravus. It has been some time since you visited them to teach medicine and natural remedy.’

‘A singular drop from a dark nox blossom upon innocent fragrant tea taken every day for a month can induce a slow and painful death to its drinker...’

‘What was that?’

Ravus’ heavily lidded eyes looked at her, the shade of blue now cold ice. 

‘I was only musing.’

‘Pray tell me who you were planning to poison? If it’s that idiotic and repulsive Calligo, do let me know. I shall make it so.’

‘My, aren’t you the wicked one,’ Ravus said as he bit on his fourth piece of honey biscuit.

‘It takes one to know one, my darling.’

They played with the idea for a while, the macabre talk of poison and slow death are masked behind their innocent laughter. But thoughts of death slowly ate away the lively discussion.

A man such as Calligo deserves such a fate, Veritas thought. He was and still is ruthless. His laws that were imposed upon the land and people of Tenebrae made the nation suffer not just their loss of freedom, but their loss of hope. 

In a month, scores of so-called ‘traitors’ are put to the sword, all done with just one word from the commanders of Niflheim. Tenebraen retainers dwindled to half their size, either they died fighting for their country or they cowered away to the iron rule of Niflheim. 

Veritas had once tried to murder Calligo and the other Gralean officials a few years ago but failed. Ravus tried his best to stage their accidents yet he too, succumbed to failure. 

It was then that Ravus decided to use Veritas’ advice.

Use whatever it is that is available to you and twist it to your advantage. That way, you can gain the upper hand.

A sound advice turned into a plot that Veritas never wanted to implement. She felt guilty of all the blood that she shed despite the sense of righteousness it gave her once the deed is done. Now the idea of killing does not sit well with her no matter how much of a warrior she has become over the millennia. 

Veritas despaired at the fate of the once gentle prince. At the loss of his innocence and freedom, Ravus fell prey to hate. Hate that consumes not just the mind but his whole being. 

‘Revenge by death shall not pacify a wounded heart. Only forgiveness.’

Ravus stood up from his chair, obviously irked by her admonition. 

‘Death comes to those who deserve it. I shall see to it.’

‘Your revenge is directed to someone unworthy of your hate. Ravus, King Regis is --’

‘The man I’m expecting to see once my revenge is ready for the stage. He did all of these things. If he had only helped us...’ Ravus stopped, shaking his head.

Ravus’ hand opened the window to the balcony, his body shaking.

‘...every thing would have been different.’

Veritas’ throat suddenly hurt as if thorns had decided to strangle the life out of her. She replied with a trembling voice.

‘The empire is using you. They played with your loss and turned it to hate. They deserve your vengeance, not the Lucian king.’

Ravus turned his head to see Veritas standing beside him, her hair blowing violently in the wind.

‘You’re wrong, Veritas. I am the one playing this game!’ 

Ravus’ voice boomed in his fury. 

‘They are my puppets. The lot of them.’ 

He clutched his side where his father’s sword usually resides. Sonus Nox Fleuret died by the Empire’s sword, his blood spilling unto his mother’s pristine white clothes and shaking fingers. He heard in his mind his own teenage cries of despair, echoing so loud like a taunt.

His voice suddenly turned flat as if he was an entirely different person. It came out like a whisper, a shadowy trace of the strength that marked his fury a few seconds ago.

‘In the end they shall see how the prince of Tenebrae delivers justice to those who murdered his family and his life.’

Soft arms encircled around his body, the sound of tears seeping into his heart. She could say nothing more at the moment. Words could not reach him. 

Only love.

Veritas could only hold him, hoping that somehow she could ease his pain. His body went rigid, tremors shaking his inner core.

‘Every day I see more and more of my country falling to inhuman hands, their limbs bound in shackles. The night reminds me of the once passionate violin that echoed in this very room, the laughter, the love and everyone that deserved to be saved. And yet here I am, devoid of every thing that once were mine.’

Ravus felt his heart spilling forth. He frantically grabbed his emotions and tucked it deep within himself once again, sealing it up to open again on another day. He nearly slipped but he caught himself. 

Veritas’ small hands soothed his back as words of reassurance filled Ravus’ ears.

‘I know for certain that one day, you will overcome the shadows of the past, learning from it and growing even stronger of heart and soul. I have seen you and you have come a long way. Believe me when I say this -- there is a future for all of us. I believe in you, Ravus. You need not fear the unknown for I am here with you, always.’

Veritas hoped her words reached the deepest pits of his heart and crushed the darkness within. He was such a kind-hearted man; he still was today yet his kindness is not freely given to anyone anymore.

She felt strong arms embracing her, his scent mingling with hers felt like a reassuring hug.

After a while, Ravus pulled away. The gentle breeze blew, heralding the coming of night. 

‘Shall we retire for the day?’ Veritas asked, wiping her tears away.

Nodding, Ravus took her hand in his.

And so Ravus Nox Fleuret spent his last night once more as he lay beside his lover, holding her tightly as if melting into her as they sank in the warm sheets,  his lips whispering reassurances that he would come back again. 

Ravus held on to his words as a sort of string which he attached to her heart. She kissed him so and only hoped that soon they can all live without fear or regret.

I couldn’t think of a proper title, so I went with ‘Pandora’s Box’. It sort of symbolizes Ravus’ emotions, that when left open, his painful memories would come spilling forth, forcing him to remember who he truly is. But as his plot begins to unfold, this box will be a hindrance. So he hides it all the time. 

‘What can not be seen nor felt can never hurt me.’

Also, this is supposed to be a light story, but somehow Ravus insisted that his voice be heard. So I obliged, willingly.

[gischtglas]

Tzeentch and Malal

“Is knowledge for the sake of knowledge its own reward? I’m tempted to say no, simply because I know I have at least two people in my employ who’d happily say yes in my stead - or maybe just one, now that I think about it. Morte should be smarter than that. Then again that is side-stepping the question - still, I think my answer is no. Or maybe it depends on the area of knowledge? I can think of a few areas where knowledge for the sake of knowledge might be its own reward - I’ve always been very fond of philosophy - but in general? There are some things I genuinely do not want to know, and if I tried to learn everything else simply because I could - well, I couldn’t. Not with my schedule and responsibilities. The mere concept just doesn’t quite seem feasible.”

“The number of my enemies, now there’s a beast of a different colour. I don’t think I even know of every last one - it is my firm belief that any rogue trader has more enemies than they know what to do with, and I have a seneschall to keep track of the lot. If I did it, I’d probably never leave my ship again. That said, shall I list the most prominent ones? First and foremost, there is of course house Hela. The grudges we bear against each other are older than our warrants of trade and they haven’t exactly gone down in number ever since. There is a very simple rule on Archaos, my home world: You are either with the Helas or the Galliardes. Entirely accurate, I can assure you, and it doesn’t just apply to Archaos’ surface. Cozy up to that bunch and I will happily set your name on the list of people that might just need to disappear simply out of principle.”

“Who else, then… oh, of course: the Faceless Lord. They are about as charming as they sound from all that I have heard, and unfortunately they are powerful enough to evade Calligos Winterscale up until now. I suppose it is a good thing the pirates of the Expanse seldom dare set foot inside the Imperium - if a mere lackey of that one has the wherewithal to burn down Footfall while screaming about the slights I have inflicted on them, I don’t want to know what the head of that operation would do to my home. Still, that is an enemy maybe even more dangerous than house Hela - the Helas are happy enough to deliver little stings, hoping to whittle me down with a thousand little cuts. The Faceless Lord might just wish to sacrifice me to whatever dark gods that one worships, which if nothing else makes the threat more imminent.”

“And given that I’ve already talked about him already… well, I’m not sure if I’d go so far as to call Captain Winterscale my enemy. For one, that would be rather like the fly calling the fly swatter an enemy and I do not wish to incur the wrath - or even the attention! - of someone as powerful as Winterscale. And then there is the fact that I am never quite sure where Winterscale and I stand… All rogue traders are each other’s natural predators, of that I have no doubt, but he and I seem to be on cordial terms right now, his rather mercurial temperament notwithstanding. I wouldn’t mind keeping it that way, no matter how much I could do without someone like him looming over my shoulder.”

“Which leaves only enemy that I would name - would being the operative word, alas, because I do not know who they are. I know someone was behind my parents’ murder and it stands to reason that the same someone - or someones - must have been behind the abduction of my brothers and I. I thought for the longest time that Rhiann… well, never mind that. That line of inquiry turned out to be entirely useless. The point is: I don’t know who they are or even how many, but by the time I find them, I will repay them for the fall of my house a few thousand times over.”

- Aenor Galliarde, rogue trader, M41