#wygar

[feral--opossum]

Well, Wygar, that's one way to put it

[azvolrien]

Backup

Haven't checked in with the Stormhaven crew for a little while now, have I? I'm still fond of them, though.

I like worldbuilding. You likely know this, if you've been following me for any significant length of time. But I often find myself drawn less to the big things like government and religion and more to the smaller details of the characters' day-to-day lives.

Such as contraceptive implants, apparently.

---

“They’re a fairly promising batch this year,” said Rhona as they walked. “I’ll be interested to see how many manage to stick it out to master-level.”

“Yeah, same among the Constructist lot,” said Calburn. “Think I expected a few more of the senior apprentices to stay on as journeymen, but the ones we’ve got… Yeah, I think they’ll do pretty well. What’re the power levels like among the new Healers?”

“Quite high. They can all pour a lot of energy into a working before they start to feel its loss. But the flip side of that is that they can all stand to work on precision.” Rhona shook her head. “Put too much energy into healing and you have a recipe for adhesions, which isn’t pleasant to deal with for anyone concerned.” They walked on in silence for a few seconds before Rhona spoke again. “While we’re talking about journeymen – what’s the name of that one new Constructist? The tall one, dark hair.”

“With the glasses? That’s Shaun. He doesn’t really go in for grown constructs, but I think he’ll shape up to be one of the best we’ve had in years where built ones are concerned.” Calburn paused in consideration. “At least, if we can get him to stop making them all look unnecessarily creepy.”

“I’m sure there are some customers out there his designs will appeal to,” said Rhona, “but I’ve been asked to inform you – ‘you’ meaning the School of Constructs in general – that if he steals any more animal skeletons from the anatomy collection to use as components, he’ll be helping out at our next dissection lecture.” She gave a rather strained smile. “I’m sure nobody wants a repeat of the Lynx Skull Incident.”

“Aw, come on. We managed to catch the construct before anyone got hurt.” Rhona raised her eyebrows. “Seriously hurt,” Calburn amended. “But… Yeah, I take your point. I’ll pass the message along.”

They turned left onto Full Moon Crescent, Mostol following loyally behind his master without being led by the reins. The big, bison-like construct’s packsaddle was laden with a hefty wicker hamper strapped on each side and a third balanced along his spine, but he didn’t even seem to notice the weight. When they reached Number 26, Calburn reined him in with only a gesture and he came to a halt, standing patiently at the end of the path while Calburn and Rhona walked up to the front door. Rhona frowned; the usually cheerful flowers in the pot by the door were looking distinctly wilted. She folded her hands behind her back as Calburn gave the bell-pull a yank.

At first, there was no reply. They shared a glance. More than a minute went by with no response from inside the house, not even a shouted acknowledgement. Calburn had just reached out for the bell-pull again when, finally, signs of life sounded behind the door: footsteps against a wooden floor, not quite moving at a jog but certainly at a brisk pace, and then a dull thump that strongly suggested someone had slammed into the door. The lock clicked as a key turned and, finally, the door opened.

“Gods,” said Rhona after a moment of stunned silence. “You look awful.”

“Thank you, Rhona, you always know just what to say,” said Wygar, only a little out of breath. “I’m afraid I’ve been rather busy this last week.” His eyes were both extremely bloodshot and deeply shadowed, with a wild look in them that suggested he was either about to break down in tears or set something on fire.

“When was the last time you washed your hair?” asked Calburn, wide-eyed. Wygar’s three-foot-long red mane, usually immaculately clean and tied in a neat ponytail at his nape, had taken on a greasy, dishevelled look, and the strip of cloth trying to exert some control had slid halfway down his back. From the visible stubble on his chin, it had also been a good few days since the last time he shaved.

Wygar slumped against the door-frame, bowing his head. “I think… not since… Before. Everything.” He sighed. “I’ve had quite a lot on my plate.”

“Well!” Calburn squared his shoulders and rolled up his sleeves. “Good thing you’ve got us here for backup now, then.” He jabbed a thumb back towards Mostol. “Present for you both, from everyone back up at the College. Got more than a week’s worth of food packed up on Mossy’s back, the bulk of which doesn’t even need cooked and the rest won’t need more than a quick heating-up in the oven or on the stove, so you won’t need to worry about going to the market or cooking anything too complicated for a few days at least.”

“Plus some clean clothes from your emergency stash in your rooms,” added Rhona. “Haven’t your parents been helping out?”

Wygar sighed again. “When they can. But that still leaves plenty of time when they can’t. And besides, they don’t know any more about really newnewborns than we do – I was already a month old when they adopted me.” He smiled, which somehow only made his exhaustion more apparent. “Thank you. Both of you. All of you. Bring it all in and I’ll heat the kettle for some tea.”

Calburn nodded and lifted the first hamper from Mostol’s saddle. “I think you could use it more than we do.”

“You are… not wrong.” Wygar helped them carry the hampers through to the kitchen before he waved them back to the living room, having entrusted Calburn with a teapot. A minute later, he followed with a copper kettle slung over one wrist, a metal stand under the same arm, and three mugs hooked onto the fingers of his other hand. Without speaking, he set the stand up on the small tiled section in the middle of the otherwise wooden coffee table, placed the kettle on top, and just stared at it until it began to whistle as the water boiled.

“Where’s Fayn?” asked Rhona as Wygar poured the water into the teapot.

“Upstairs,” he said. “Sleeping. She…” He swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment. “She lost a lot of blood. It’ll… It’ll probably be a while yet before she’s herself again.”

“And our new niece?” said Calburn.

“She’s not your niece,” Wygar pointed out.

“Oh, shush. I’m gonna be ‘Uncle Calburn’ and you know it.”

“Yes, that was probably inevitable,” said Wygar. He smiled. “Also sleeping. She’s in the basket there.”

“Oh!” Calburn finally noticed the small wicker cradle on the floor beside the hearth. “Should we stop talking?”

“Just don’t shout and you’ll be fine. She’s a pretty heavy sleeper unless she wants something, we’ve found.”

Calburn slid off the couch and shuffled towards the basket on his knees for a closer look. “She is so cute,” he cooed, clasping his hands under his chin. “Her little tufty hair! And those tiny ears!”

Rhona leant over his shoulder, her own expression more one of academic disinterest. “Hm. Yes, that’s definitely a baby.”

“You can hold her later, if you like,” said Wygar.

“Ooh, can I?” said Calburn, grinning hugely.

Rhona wrinkled her nose. “Offer again once she’s old enough to converse with.”

“Yes, I thought those might be your respective reactions,” said Wygar, smiling. He sighed and bowed his head, pinching the bridge of his nose between both forefingers. The smile disappeared. “There’s something else I need to ask you both.” Rhona gestured for him to do so. “It was… it was a difficult birth. There were complications. Like I said – Fayn lost a great deal of blood. If the Healers hadn’t acted as quickly as they did to give her an emperor’s cut, she could have lost too much.” He looked up, his eyes brimming. “We can’t take that risk again. We just – we can’t.”

“What do you need?” asked Rhona.

Wygar sniffed, blinking back his tears, and reached inside the collar of his shirt to draw out his anti-fertility charm on its chain around his neck. “You two made this for me, all those years ago.”

“And the enchantment’s still holding?” said Calburn, tearing himself away from Una and retreating back to the couch.

“Yes, as strong as it ever was. But – I need something more permanent.”

Calburn crossed his legs uncomfortably.

“Not that permanent,” said Wygar, exasperated. “But – a new charm. The same essential enchantment. But smaller, small enough to put inside my arm or somewhere. So that there’s no chance, none whatsoever, of my accidentally misplacing it or absent-mindedly leaving it off one night.”

Rhona rubbed her chin, nodding. “Have you discussed this with Fayn?”

“Yes, of course I have.”

“Let me see the old one for a moment.” Wygar nodded and dropped the charm into her outstretched hand. She held it up to her eyes to inspect it more closely. “Hm. Cal – is the actual type of metal important for holding the enchantment?”

Calburn shook his head. “Tougher metals are better, but not really beyond that. Easy enough to scale it down a bit – we’re both a lot better in our fields than we were when we made that thing.”

“And this is… what metal did we use?”

“It’s just steel,” said Calburn.

“Steel, right.” Rhona handed the charm back to Wygar. “If you want it implanted, we’ll need to use a different metal,” she said. “Something inert – something that won’t rust away and poison you from the inside out.”

“Yes, that would be nice,” said Wygar.

“I’m not certain the arm is the best place for it, though,” Rhona went on. “Take off your shirt.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard. You’ll want it implanted somewhere it won’t bother you, yes? Then take off your shirt so we can get a better idea of where to put it.”

Wygar sighed, but did as he was told and pulled his shirt off over his head, then stood up and held both arms out wide.

“You haven’t been eating properly,” said Rhona, prodding at the hard bump where his collarbone met his shoulder. It visibly stuck out more than usual. “You’ve lost muscle mass, and you had little enough body fat to begin with.”

“Yes, well, now that we’ve established that…” said Wygar through gritted teeth.

“I saved your life,” said Rhona. “I have a vested interest in seeing that my work doesn’t go to waste.”

“When!?”

“Hmm, not sure,” said Rhona acidly, gripping his upper arm in one hand and roughly turning him around to study his back. “Probably that time you had your lung skewered by a crossbow bolt.”

“Ah. Then.”

“Indeed. In fact, your heart had stopped, so by some standards I may have brought you back from the dead.”

“Rho, I know this is just how you show you care, but is now really the time to be telling the poor guy off?” said Calburn. “He’s in no fit state to give as good as he gets.”

“…Thanks,” said Wygar.

Rhona sighed. “Sorry,” she said, rather grudgingly. Frowning, she pressed the pad of her thumb against his back, just below his shoulder and a little to the left of his spine. “Here, I think,” she said. “If we shape it to lie flat against the shoulder blade, you shouldn’t be able to feel it. And your tattoos will make a useful marker for remembering where it is, if we ever need to remove it again.”

“All right,” said Wygar slowly. “Can I put my shirt back on now?”

“Cal, what do you think in terms of metals?” Rhona went on. “Gold, maybe? That’s inert.”

“Too soft,” said Calburn, shaking his head. “Gold’s all right for a conduit if it’s plated onto a stronger metal, but you need something tougher for a really long-lasting enchantment. Hm-hm-hm.” He steepled his fingers, narrowing his eyes in thought. Rhona handed Wygar back his shirt without speaking and they both watched Calburn expectantly. “Trying to think through what all we have in the material stores up at the workshops,” he explained to fill the silence. “Hmm.” Another pause. “Eversteel,” he finally said after about a minute. “It’s strong, it’s light, it doesn’t rust, and we’ve got a few bars in storage. Slice off a bit the size of a coin, forge it into the right shape, etch in the right runes – perfect.”

Wygar pulled his shirt back on and sat down. “How soon do you think you can manage it?”

“Couple days?” said Calburn. “It’s not that complicated an enchantment. We’ve actually got a nice little sideline making the pendant charms to sell, so we’ve got the basic process down pretty smooth now. Physically shaping the metal’ll likely take longer than the enchanting itself.”

“Huh! Do I get a share for having been your lab rat all these years?”

“…No,” said both Calburn and Rhona after a thoughtful silence.

“Hmph.”

Una stirred in her basket, tugging on the blankets, and began to wail at the top of her voice.

“Good set of lungs on her, anyway,” said Rhona, grimacing, as Wygar heaved himself back to his feet with a grunt of effort.

“At least it makes it easy to hear when she wants something,” said Wygar, and scooped her up from among the blankets. “C’mere, sweetheart. You need changed? All right, let’s get you cleaned up.” A fresh nappy did not significantly console her. Wygar sighed and carried her back through to the living room. “Hungry, then?” he said wearily, rocking to and fro in place on the couch as the still-screaming Una squirmed in his arms. “Well, I’d hoped to let your mama have a bit more sleep, but I suppose needs must…”

There was a hollow thunk from upstairs as the attic trapdoor opened, then a creak of wood as footsteps moved downstairs and the living room door swung open.

Fayn didn’t look a lot better than her husband. Her skin, always pale, was almost as white as her hair, and however much rest she was getting, it clearly wasn’t enough to dispel the shadows around her eyes or the exhausted tremor in her hands.

“You heard her, then,” said Wygar with a rueful smile. “I was just about to bring her up to you.”

Fayn gave a half-hearted wave with one hand and sat down heavily beside him, letting her head loll backwards to rest on the back of the couch. “Not many with better hearing than me,” she said, closing her eyes for a moment. “And I was only half-asleep anyway.” She wriggled into a slightly more upright position and shrugged off one shoulder of both her dressing gown and her nightdress. Calburn politely averted his eyes. “Give her here, then.”

Wygar carefully passed Una into her arms and hugged her in against his side. “How does the incision feel?” he asked, resting the tips of his fingers on her belly. “No pain in the scar?”

“No more than expected,” said Fayn. She glanced over at their guests and lifted her chin slightly in acknowledgement. Calburn still wasn’t looking at her, but Rhona returned the nod. “Did he ask you about making a new charm for him?”

Rhona nodded again. “We should have one ready in a couple of days.”

“Good.” Fayn smiled down at Una. “I do love this weird little creature, really,” she said, stroking the weird little creature’s soft wisps of red hair, “but once was enough.”

“‘Weird little creature’?” said Wygar, raising an eyebrow.

“Like father, like daughter, wouldn’t you say?”

“Cheeky!” Wygar gave her a little jostle.

Rhona cleared her throat. “If you’re finished flirting,” she said, “we will need to take him up to the College to implant it, since you probably don’t want us messing around with scalpels in your kitchen.”

“Oh. That’s a good point, actually,” said Wygar.

“I think I can manage without you for a few hours,” said Fayn.

“Well, have a think about when suits you best,” said Calburn, inspecting the ceiling. “Rho, think we should go and get started with the metal?”

“I’m not going anywhere until I see these two eat something,” said Rhona.

Wygar sighed and got up to fetch a couple of packets from one of the hampers.

“Actually,” said Fayn, a little apologetically, “if you don’t have anywhere to be urgently, there are a few chores around the house we could use your help with…”

The few chores turned up several more that had fallen by the wayside, and it was well into the evening by the time Calburn finally opened the front door and walked back to where Mostol still waited patiently at the gate.

“Has he been blocking the pavement all afternoon?” asked Wygar, leaning on the door-frame. Behind him, Fayn peered briefly out into the street, nodded a farewell to Rhona, and carried Una upstairs to put her to bed.

“So it would appear,” said Rhona, folding her arms.

“Yeah, I meant to put him back in his stone once we had the hampers off his back,” said Calburn, climbing up into the riding saddle. “Slipped my mind. You know Mossy – once he’s told to stay put, there’s nothing that’ll move him but me.” He looked back at Wygar. “I’ll swing by again in a couple of days, but give us a shout up at the College if you need a hand sooner, right?” Wygar nodded. “Right. See you back at the College, Rho.”

Rhona took her own construct’s summoning stone from inside the neck of her tunic and held it up for Tyren to materialise.

“I am grateful for your help,” said Wygar as Rhona placed her foot in the stirrup and hefted herself up onto Tyren’s back. “With the charm, and – and with everything else today. If that’s not been coming across properly…” He trailed off, gazing pensively back into the house.

“Wygar.” Rhona grabbed a fistful of his hair and made him look up at her.

“Ow! What the fuck, Rhona?”

“Wygar,” she said again, slightly more gently, and let go of his hair. “We’ve known each other for a long time.”

“Seventeen years, almost,” said Wygar, rubbing the top of his head.

“So you know that I take my oaths as a Healer seriously. I don’t go in for false comfort.”

“You don’t go in for comfort in general,” said Wygar drily.

“Which is why you need to listen to me, right now.” Rhona waited until he met her eyes squarely. She sighed, shaking her head, and smiled. “She’s going to be fine. They both are.”

Wygar took a long, shaking breath, held it for a couple of seconds, and nodded. “Thank you.”

“I am quite fond of you, believe it or not,” said Rhona. She tugged on the reins, facing Tyren towards the College. “Remember to eat, or I’ll want to know why next time I check in on you.”

“I’ll try to bear it in mind.”

“Good.” She spurred Tyren into a brisk trot and soon caught up with Calburn and Mostol, just outside the gates of the College.

“Ginger-nut giving you trouble?” asked Calburn, twisting around in the saddle to look at her.

“More the other way around,” said Rhona as they rode through the gates. Outside the main door, she reined in Tyren and slid down from the saddle. “Come on, then,” she said, and cracked her knuckles. “We’ve got metal stores to raid.”

---

Rhona does, in fact, care very deeply for her friends and will go significantly out of her way to help them, and as far as the actual, physical patching-together of healing goes, there are few better. She just... doesn't have a great bedside manner.

Elves like Wygar do grow facial hair, but much more slowly and sparsely than humans; it takes a few days for him to even get a five o'clock shadow and tends to stop at 'long stubble', so actually growing a proper beard wouldn't be on the cards for him even if he wanted to.

Eversteel is probably titanium. That's what I had in mind, at least.

[tancerz85]

Co oznacza 'wygar ' ?

Aria:

Witaj ponownie! W czym mogę Ci pomóc dzisiaj?

Pozytywny:

Co oznacza 'wygar ' ?

Aria:

Wyraz "wygar" nie jest powszechnie używanym słowem w języku polskim. Może to być słowo slangowe lub regionalne, które nie jest znane w ogólnym użyciu. Istnieje jednak kilka możliwości interpretacji tego słowa:

1. W kontekście potocznym lub slangowym, "wygar" może oznaczać coś, co jest ekscytujące, ciekawe lub imponujące. Może to być używane do opisania osoby, sytuacji, miejsca lub zjawiska.

2. Inna możliwość to, że "wygar" jest błędem lub literówką i miało być użyte inne słowo. W takim przypadku, może być trudno określić dokładne znaczenie bez większego kontekstu.

Pamiętaj jednak, że to tylko spekulacje, ponieważ słowo "wygar" nie jest powszechnie znane. Jeśli masz więcej informacji lub kontekstu, może być łatwiej dokładnie określić, co to słowo oznacza.

[mowi0205]

Some Wendimoor ideas 🏰 #1

I’d love to see more interaction between these two couples so I draw it myself lol

[takadasaiko]

Martin vs Wygar

[dirkly]

When your friend is lying to their parents about what happened to a rival enemy/boyfriend and you’re trying to be supportive and go along with it, but they’re the worst liar and their parents aren’t buying it.

[setmeatopthepyre]

DGHDA S02E08 thoughts

THIS WAS SUCH A GREAT EPISODE GUYS I AM STOKED.

- So we see Marina murder Hector in a fight, stabbing him in the head with scissors. According to Max’s tweet this is where she breaks two fingers - which makes sense, considering the force needed to stab through someone’s skull. Then there’s Hector laying on the floor surrounded by yellow flower petals from the vase that fell.. just like Panto in Amanda’s vision.

- I love how Friedkin attempts to bullshit his way through his conversation with Priest and Priest is having none of it. “Can I talk to Ken?” Guess who’s in charge now, Hugo. PS I sort of want that shirt Priest is wearing.

- What is being kept track of on the whiteboard in the monitoring room in Blackwing? There’s ‘Project Icarus’, ‘Gripps’, ‘CROSS’, ‘Vogel’, ‘MARTIN’ and what I assume is ‘Moloch’ but I can’t read the rest of them. What do the numbers mean?

- The original Blackwing in the sixties? As far as we knew, Riggins started Blackwing in the 80s. And there’s already references in files from that far back to dimensional gateways.. but no one ever followed up. Ken mentions the government pulling funding from Project Paperclip. When asked about it, Max tweeted these links: 1, 2, referring to the (real!) Operation Paperclip and Project MKUltra. Lots to unpack there.

- Friedkin stress-stripping while Ken is putting on a jacket is so symbolic.

- So did Blackwing shut down cellphones, internet and just power in general, or is this a power surge sort of thing?

- I love that Farah, anxious Farah, is keeping her cool and helping Tina through her panic. She reminds me of that post along the lines of ‘I can’t do x because of anxiety, but as soon as one of my friends can’t do x either, I suddenly gain the ability to do x to help them.’

- Dirk built himself a nest. Just like the blanket nest in Hobbs’ house.

- I love that Amanda “freaking witchakookoo” Brotzman, who recently pulled an imaginary knife out of her own hand, seems to be the sole voice of reason in Wendimoor. Everything isn’t just magically ok, Todd. People have died. Your old life is over.

- Mona Wilder aka Project Lamia (confirmed!) was a chair for six years before Blackwing brought her in. I want to know how that went. How did they find her?

- I’m still thoroughly freaked out by those two creatures at Wakti’s Pool. What’s with the red eyes? What are they? Why are they there? Also apparently if you control the pool, you control the kingdom and the whole world. Does that mean all of Wendimoor, or.. all dimensions?

- I was delighted to see Suzie couldn’t touch the water itself. Everything comes with a price is a general rule of magic and Amanda went through serious pain to master her powers. Suzie’s taking the easy road and I feel like that’s going to come back to bite her. 

Then again, sticking her wand in the pool seemed to work and gave her the Mage’s tattoos / leaves her with a mark of the magic of that world(?). I wonder what effect that’s going to have on her powers. Also, that means the Mage (probably) did the same thing at one point.

- Frija Dengdamor seems ready to listen to Amanda and to be reasonable, but she flips out the second the name Dirk Gently is mentioned, just like in an earlier episode. What is it with his name that makes her so angry? I feel like there’s more there than just the prophecy. Maybe it’s reflective of something in Moloch and Dirk’s time in Blackwing?

- Suzie’s “Time and space are no longer obstacles” is really eerie.

- The little guy with black hair is Amanda.

- Martin just straight up whispering to Vogel that he can’t see without his glasses was fantastic. Poor squinty man in a bright world. And then the catlike swat. Then they pick Dirk up and put him in charge. Fantastic. Give me infinite seasons of this please.

- I feel like Todd’s been booed while on a stage before and his immediate reaction is just to flip everyone off. That’s so punk. There’s the big brother that little Amanda probably learned to be punk from.

- Is that the same car Dirk saw in the woods earlier? How did they manage to Rowdify it in that short period of time? Was Vogel just hanging off the side spraypainting while they drove? Is their punk aesthetic really the only constant in the universe? Also if anyone finds me that soundtrack that plays, let me know because it’s great.

- I feel like Wygar is really important somehow. He has an accent we don’t hear anywhere else in Wendimoor and he can take on the entirety of the Rowdy 3 without much of a problem. Plus bonus points for him taking off his cloak before fighting because yes that is actually realistic thank you. I am passionate about fighting scenes and will say nothing more about Martin’s little twirl. That’s how you get knocked down, Martin. Oops.

- When did Martin’s club turn into a scissor sword?

- Amanda getting tired of the ineffective fighting and just kicking Silas in the chest was great. Todd following up with some punches was even better. I’m all for small angry Brotzman fighting. Also Amanda whistling for the Rowdy boys? Best.

- I love when everyone straps in for Dirk Story Time. Dirk gets his podium to tell us all how he Solved It and everyone else just listens with rapt attention. Vogel’s just hanging off his brothers because he is the purest being in the world.

- So in the sixties, the predecessor to Blackwing was drawn to Bergsberg because of Moloch. Arnold turned in Moloch after his parents died. Moloch freaked out and tried to make his fantasy world, Wendimoor, real. Boom, surge of ‘67. That explains the mural in Bergsberg. But what about the one in Wendimoor?

I want to say that Moloch, when he fell into a coma, was transported to Wendimoor as a second version of himself somehow. That means someone or something around his age should be in Wendimoor.. but what did the stroke do? Would that have influenced the person he is in Wendimoor?

- The Rowdy 3 calling Dirk out on his Nerdy Bullshit makes me think that they know him well enough to expect nerdy bullshit from him. I can just imagine little Dirk, freshly escaped from Blackwing, trying to make conversation with the Rowdy 3 about books or interconnectedness or something like that.

- Did Amanda only bring in the Rowdy 3 yesterday? And they cobbled their entire outfits together in one morning and then got them all super dirty and went to look for the mage’s army and holy crap a lot of stuff happened in one day.

- I loved the detail of Martin looking over at the hut just before Suzie starts cackling because of the magic smell thing.

[sir-silas]

Silas! I didn’t know you had tumblr. How’s life? How are things? How are the birds? Wygar? Panto? Does he have tumblr too? How are you my beautiful man?

Thank you for calling me beautiful! I am flattered. 💖

Life is, unfortunately, very worrisome. The Mage’s armies grow ever closer, and though I know @princelytrost is alive and well, I don’t know where he is. Actually, I don’t believe he knows where he is, either. I can only hope he fulfills the prophecy and finds his way back in time. Have you, per chance, seen anyone named Dirk Gently around??

Wygar and the birds are well. He’s become quite fond of the few that flit about my windowsill.

[gominagetcha]

Gomina - Whenever You Guys Are Ready (full album)

WYGAR is going digital

We still recommand getting the physical LP from WeWant2Wecord ℗ Gomina Getcha 2018 © Hoozlab 2018

[feral--opossum]

Wygar used to be the best swordsman in the land... He didn't take kindly to Panto taking his title.

[azvolrien]

OC Trivia - Childhood Miscellany

Let’s do some more of these.

Fayn has the genes to be considerably taller than she is; the Falkari tended to be rather statuesque with six feet being a pretty normal height for a woman, and her dad Aren was built very much along the same lines as Emperor Zarannon (i.e. not wholly unlike a bear). Unfortunately growing up feral doesn’t lend itself to great nutrition, so she never got any taller than 5′7″. Which is still above average for the wider human population, just a bit short for the Falkari.

Speaking of Emperor Zarannon, he’s the oldest of six brothers (technically paternal half-brothers, but he wasn’t raised to put much stock in that distinction). Their names - in descending age-order - are Rived, Torsan, Adimar, Handro and Lerek. Zar’s not remotely worried that any of them will try to usurp his throne, because when he was a young prince feeling the weight of his title and he raised the idea of maybe, possibly stepping out of the line of succession and passing it to one of his brothers, they all immediately ran off to take up posts as far away from the Imperial City as they could get without actually leaving the continent.

Wygar’s parents intended to raise him with a connection to elfin culture, but when they asked for advice on how to go about this, Stormlord Halleth (then just Journeyman Halleth) gently pointed out that there isn’t really a definitive ‘elfin culture’ any more than there is a ‘human culture’ and that, since Wy was a foundling, they had no way of knowing anything about his birth heritage. They settled for making sure he had some good elfin role models instead.

Roan mentioned in Seal Story that her grandfather homeschooled her until she was twelve. This isn’t completely true, as he did try enrolling her in the nearest village school when she was five, but due to a combination of factors that went so badly that he decided he wasn’t going to subject her to it for another few years. High school wasn’t a great experience for her either, but at least she’d had more time to build up a bedrock of confidence by then.

Asta literally never left the Imperial City until she was twelve years old, when her parents took her out for a holiday by the Eastern Lakes. This was also the first time she met her paternal grandmother in person; Grandma Yasmin rode up from the Hawk Steppes for the occasion. (Asta’s parents, I have decided, were named Antony and Kaja.)

[leemajdoub]

Wow, buddy! Can't believe you got to the big ONE-FIVE!!! Please help me wish Aleks a very HAPPY 15TH BIRTHDAY! ♡

[osmundspriest-blog]

This came to me in a dream

[holisticdirkmuppet]

a cute bts selection from the gorgeous emily tennant 💕

[takadasaiko]

Rowdy 3 vs Wygar

[dirkly]