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if i look back, i am lost
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@laevaforge
ʻ 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓 ʼ
independent, selective and very private blog, Surtr & Laevatain of Ark.nights / Ark.nights End.field, written by Fae ( 25+, they/them ). personals do not interact.
mains : @goldcerts @endfieldr @prlica
other blogs : electrivolt ( volkner )
rules under the cut.
𝐀 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍, 𝐌𝐀𝐍'𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 her with a comfortable ease to it, as if he was simply conversing with someone from the pack & not another operator of a stronger caliber than he was. battle - wise he would never win over laevatain, a single glance had been enough back then to calculate that. she was his superior in that regard. but the kitchen this was his domain, always has been & always will be. rossi & the others had praised his skills over the years. catello knew he had the upper hand here, but he would't dare using it against anyone. that wasn't his style. ❛ sure, i have something you might like. ❜ mien neutral as he gazes at her for a moment, considering his next words wisely & carefully despite the joke that was hanging off the tip off his tongue already ; he was not that daft to ignite her ( ' never ceasing to burn ' ) ire over a badly chosen pun just yet.
❛ i need someone to control the fire under the pan, so we get an even roast. machines can not do the same as, well, controlling it yourself. ❜ the lupo did not dare admit it out loud today but wounds from where the shot had pierced all those many years ago itched & burned & ached rather badly today, making it troublesome to use his arm already without his battle capabilites on top to set the air ablaze. ❛ if we don't get an even sear on it, the vegetables might taste bitter. heat is crucial in the dish. ❜ a moment of silence between them, man's brows creased as he does a rather complicated cut to get rid of a part on the vegetable that wasn't pleasant for consumption. it can cause bad stomach cramps. ❛ you up for it, sorella i mean laevatain ? ❜
Frankly, Laevatain had already braced herself for the rejection, already quite used to being gently ushered away from places and delicate objects when people were just a little too afraid of what her flames might do in such an environment. She'd hardly take it personally, well aware of the power she wields, and maybe sometimes she felt a tiny spark of pride that left her having to keep her lips from curling at the corners into a grin, fear ( in moderation— ) feeling just about the same as praise for her flames in such scenarios, quite content to know that her newfound friendliness hasn't made anyone forget what she's capable of.
"... Oh? Do tell." So, when Wulfgard offers an alternative, her curiosity is more than piqued— it's certainly not an everyday occurrence, to have someone willing to hand her a task that doesn't involve reducing something to smoldering ashes.
And the request itself does bring a chuckle out of her.
"Controlling the flames? Who do you think you're talking to?" There is enough humor in her voice to tell she's only playing her response up with just a bit of flair— and she doesn't add anything else, seemingly quite content to take her seat in front of the pan, a hand extended to will her flames into being. Of course there is fun to be had in allowing them to run freely and consume everything they can touch, enough enjoyment in the act amidst the thrill of battle that some may think Laevatain a pyromaniac ( which, wrong, she may love the inferno, but she knows impulse control, thank you very much! ), but the precision required to keep the fire contained, small and obedient and harmless? A much rarer exercise she also happens to find enjoyment in, like a puzzle itching at her mind. Really, the operators at Endfield should be asking her more often about this kind of thing—
"Do tell if they are burning to your liking, I'll adjust."
// logs in, posts thing i saw in tags, logs back out
// i was asked to post it and release it into the world. @goldcerts @solaurous :)
❛ enough, you'll end up hurting yourself. patience is not a suggestion when it comes to cooking. you'll have to be careful taking the skin off these vegetable with that knife. their skin is sturdy & needs a sharp blade. be careful using it, i freshly sharpened it this morning in preparation for showing you how to cook something commestibile from the things growing here. ❜ the man took the knife from @laevaforge 's hands, showing her how to carefully get under the vegetables outer shell with the blade pointing away from himself.
Somehow, somehow, despite the process of cooking involving both slicing and burning things, Laevatain is sadly, woefully unprepared in the kitchen. Cooking didn't tend to be something for her to concern herself with, far too often indulging in her frozen treats instead of doing the sensible thing and opting for a full, proper meal, and on the occasion where she craved something more fulfilling? There are either ready meals in the Endfield facilities, or she's perfectly content burning something to enough of a crisp to be considered edible. ( perhaps unexpected, seeing her pickiness with ice cream flavors and her carefully curated appearance— but hey, survival is survival. )
"I think by now you should be well aware that precision isn't what I'm known for."
She huffs and pouts, the dissatisfaction palpable in the suddenly warmer air that surrounds her, but doesn't argue, silently letting Wulfgard take over preparations, a step back to allow him easier access to the table, arms crossed— and yet, she doesn't stomp away or let her gaze wander elsewhere, eyes fixated on the lupo's hands and blade, closely observing every little action and movement. Let it be known that even with her fiery personality she's willing to find compromise and room for learning! ( well. trying, at least— )
Simply watching from the sidelines, however, isn't something Laevatain is particularly happy with.
"Any other task you're willing to trust me with here?"
It’s unreal to me that Surtr actually has lore now, and also that we have learned a few more things about her personally:
Surtr skates. Her skateboard was a gift from her Rhodes Island colleagues to celebrate her 1st year anniversary of becoming a Rhodes Island employee.
Surtr’s copious consumption of ice cream was in part motivated by her eating it pissing off the actual Surtr, the Fire Giant she keeps trapped, because he hates it. He grows to lowkey like it.
Her insistence on not knowing how to use any Arts was partially true: She’s using the Fire Giant’s Arts granted to her by the swordstaff. This distinction is personally important to her because just as she owns many memories that do not belong to her, the Giant’s Arts are the same in that she can use them but they are not hers. Her mastery over the Giant’s Arts is not just instinctual, either, given her Base Skill is speeding up Guard Skill Mastery, suggesting she has in fact properly mastered these skills herself enough that she can teach others.
Surtr straight up just stole the Fire Giant’s name when she took the swordstaff and made the Giant submit to her. We don’t know her original name, if she had one, and neither does she.
Though she did originally hunt for the places where her memories took place to piece out which were hers and which weren’t, she eventually gave up because life at Rhodes Island was so fulfilling that she simply lost interest in piecing out a convoluted past in favor of enjoying a great present, making her the most wholesome identity thief I know.
Whatever it is she had going on, or perhaps just her raw willpower, likely a combination of both, allowed her to raw dog Surtr (Giant)’s possession, hit him with a No You, and she got a free sword out of it. This simply happened and we just have to live with it.
maybe it's coincidence when the endministrator approaches in sheepish nature, with an arm raised to the back of their head &. another clutching at something suspiciously behind their back . it doesn't take a genius to figure it out of course, given the holiday recently, but perhaps the exact choice of gift will find her approval . 'tis no frivolous heart shaped, or hells forbid decorated, container, picked off the wall as the first thing in sight, but instead a surprisingly neutrally - colored package . only really celebrating valentines day in the slightly more red tone of the backdrop and a very clear, stark yellow triangle at the edge stating a ' valentines limited flavor ' .
they are, quite clearly, the chocolate wafer figures the endministrator ... so cruelly plucked from her dessert, shall we say. a pack— nope, make that two actually, trays of them . these particularly, while still mainly chocolate, have a layer of strawberry filling between an apparently bifuricated version of just the regular wafers . " ... uh . so ... sorry, about the other day . i got caught up listening to you . didn't even think before i acted . hope this pays for it laevatain— in full and some interest too, actually . "
With memories being unreliable by experience, and most of hers being shards and fragments from an old home no longer her own, Laevatain hasn't exactly bothered with what to her were, at least initially, the more menial things, slightly more urgent matters of her own to handle before bothering to commit to memory holidays and other local celebrations, let alone making it a habit of keeping track of the dates passing by in her stubborn search. To put it simply, she doesn't think about whatever date may have just passed, and doesn't bother to check by the time she's finally returning to the Dijiang once her most recent trip is concluded.
Laevatain is nearly bouncing on her steps as she makes her way through the ship's open spaces, returning greetings in kind, dropping off souvenirs at operators' desks and workspaces, waving off the unsurprising requests to test either her flames or her arts unit, already as busy as she can be— just what she wanted out of a home to call her own, huh? And it's when she's ready to turn towards the kitchen area to find her ice cream stash that she's stopped in her steps, curious look and fiery eyes just a little brighter now.
"Hey— missed me that much already?" Well, at least they've found her in a good mood, right? And it doesn't fade as she's presented with the box, blinking, a tilt of her head the only expression of her faint confusion, yet accepting it and studying it a little closer nonetheless. Valentine edition...? Ah, it was already that time of the year, wasn't it? She is certainly no stranger to finding herself on the receiving end of gifts, always more touched than she'd like to admit, smile on her lips now turning warmer, just a smidge, that little bit only those closer to her are allowed to see, but before she can offer her earnest thanks for the thought—
"The other day...?" Oh, right, the day her treat had been oh so cruelly stolen from her, and in the middle of her retelling, no less. Laevatain huffs, yet it hardly can mask the grin, more entertained than she should be. "I suppose I can forgive you for that offense. Don't worry, I'm not setting your precious piles of reports on fire." She certainly won't admit almost forgetting about the incident entirely until it was brought up now. Or how she had been actually pretty alright with letting it slide after cooling off enough and reminding herself there would be more treats to be had, the memory was more important. She still has an image to maintain!
"C'mon, it's time for you to take a break— and since I'm feeling generous today, I'll even let you have some of my ice cream. Consider it a late Valentine's gift, okay?" Well, it seems the Endmin will live to see another day, after all.
// actually hold on before i keep writing i have another hc because i've been thinking about this for a while— the red memory ghost thing that shows up in her story chapter? a manifestation of the protocol space trying to kick her out because of her constant forced intrusions, basically lashing out because the originium in there "remembers" her and "knows" she can't be there. the best thing it could do to try and convince her to stop forcing rifts open and it most definitely backfired!
"E-Eh—" What was that. What the hell was that? That was not just a trick of the eyes, was it? The anaty furrows his brow, half-tempted to open both eyes just to see if he was hallucinating. AH! It wiggled again!! What the fuck! "Laev, that ring thingy keeps moving around. Do I need to find a Laterano scripture or something?" From the guy who summons a giant fucking fish, by the way.
"Yeah, it does that." Quite nonchalant in her reply, it slips out before she even needs to think about it or even look at the shattered ring, no doubt very used by now to people being caught by surprise at such a sight. Really, of all the ways the originium's memories could've picked to grant her the sword's original power... She huffs, glances around, listens closer, and finds nothing of concern— guess it felt like fishing for attention today. ( heh, fishing. ) "It's my arts unit. No, I don't know why it reacts either, yes sometimes it just feels like doing that. Think of it like a pet of sorts and don't worry about it." The trained response of someone that's been questioned one too many times over the same topic, and yet Laevatain holds onto her patience, just as aware of how uncommon of a sight this is for anyone that hasn't been around her for long enough.
Finally, she rests a hand on one of the ends, gloved fingers running over the unpolished, iron like surface, tracing nicks and small dents a couple times— true to her word, just as one would try to settle down an excited pet, the unit responding in kind, warmer and brighter, then finally settling down. "I told you to stop doing that around new people." It's a light reprimand in the same tone of someone fully aware that it will happen again. Quite the sight to behold, that's for sure.
// i has icons now... i can write at ease
teeny tiny promo time! pls ♡ or ↻ if you'd be interested in writing with yvonne of arkn*ghts: endf*eld. indie, private, and guidelines are linked on pinned. by lala! ᥫ᭡.
they find themselves in a section of the bridge a little less frequented— plenty enough privacy for laevatain to speak of her most recent travels unbidden . she speaks to freely it is easy to get distracted, her voice a distant anchor as they look out the nearest window, regard the stars &. near - but - far talos-ii . &., in the midst of their doubled focus they reach out— the audacity ! the little chocolate wafer of a bunny tucked into the ice cream cone of hers is plucked &. popped into their mouth with little decorum . ❝ mmmm — hmmmm ? ❞ it's hummed quietly, like they mean to urge her on and continue her latest story .
Laevatain discovered very quickly how fond she is of retelling her story. Maybe it's as simple as making her memories feel more real, anchoring them in her head, claiming them as her own without doubt or hesitation the moment words start spilling from her lips with that certainty of having lived them, retracing them like ink on the aged, well loved pages of a journal, the tales rarely embellished, true to those scattered fragments in her mind that are finally being mended, finally healing. The easier the words come to her, the brighter she becomes— and could anyone blame her, seeing her finally free to claim her life as her own, to burn with such radiance after fighting her way out of the shadows?
Maybe it comes to no surprise, Laevatain has come to really treasure these little moments, peacefully gazing at the vastness of space, Talos II in all of its brilliance, perfect stillness in the silence only broken by their conversation, a rare moment of rest for the Endministrator, the operators aboard knowing better than to intrude when Laevatain is there. There's an odd feeling of safety in confiding her newfound memories in the one other person in this world that truly understands, like entrusting them to someone else, knowing they will always ensure she knows who she is, were the worst to come.
"—and I really didn't think Wuling was going to be that humid, I mean, I run hot enough that water isn't usually an issue—" she is certainly busy talking, too, ice cream in her hand almost forgotten entirely as her tale devolves into ranting for just a moment. Almost. "You should've warned me about how wet everything in there is, those rice paddies were almost a casualty when I was trying to dry off..." and as she turns her attention back to her ice cream, her words trail off, sudden silence surrounding them as she keeps staring at the frozen treat in her hand. Something is amiss, she can tell, she knows it is, staring closer and closer... hey, wait a goddamn second—
"Aegir?" Uh oh, she's turned serious. "I hope you are on your way to the kitchen now. For no particular reason." Is the air warmer now? How curious—
@goldcerts asked : [ text ] ( img attachment: It's a flat fish on the docks. Not unlike a strangely colored grouper. )
[ text ] Nailed a big fin for the day. Not bad to put up in the fin stall for the evening crowd, huh!
...
An incoming text a few minutes later pops up.
[ text ] Ah, shoot. Wrong convo. Sorry, Laev! I think you and the Endministrator are text door neighbors. 😳
Laevatain, frankly, hadn't thought much about the other operators, let alone talked to many of them in the first place. Surtr had always been on the aloof side, others approaching her before she herself did, pulling her from her own thoughts and into her home, and it seems Laevatain has inherited this trait from her other self— more often than not pulled into conversation and antics by others around her, content with following along. Never mind the fact that said following along tended to include something being set ablaze more often than not, that had no bearing whatsoever in her decisions.
That is to say, sudden messages out of the blue aren't all that uncommon, be it for an assignment or someone marveling at her flames, they don't surprise her. The unsolicited fin pic, however, raises an eyebrow, brow scrunched up and mind trying to figure out what this has to do with her, exactly. She's only talked to the guy once or twice as far as her memories tell her, so...?
... Ah, a misclick. Shame, she thought the odd message would be something a little more interesting.
[ text ] And here I thought I was going to be asked to burn some fins. [ text ] Are my flames not good enough to cook with? They would be a novelty for whoever stops by that stall, at least.
She's joking, but actually... the thought isn't half bad, all things considered. ( if the joking tone even comes across in text in the first place, that's not something she's thinking about. )
what are your hands covered in?
Stars.
They burn, don’t they? And yet you still hold on. The flesh on your palms peels back, your fingers burning down to bone. Your tissues char and break away, your blood boiling inside your hands. The heat rushes up to kiss your face and chest, a sunburn in the dark and yet–yet you hold on, because they are beautiful. It hurts, but you see only the beauty of the moment, none of the pain. All of that suffering is worth a few moments of brilliance, isn’t it?
tagged by: @endfieldr
( i follow basically no one lmao so this one goes to my moots )
"I like my men just a little pathetic."
i see you've called in dead.
dialogue prompts from i see you've called in dead by john kenney.
i've never seen anything quite like that.
on occasion, i write my own obituary.
it's too early for existential dread.
you look well, for a dead man.
i'll give you twenty dollars to stop talking.
i wish you'd let me cut your hair.
do you believe in god?
i don't think anything matters to you anymore. that kind of breaks my heart.
stories matter. facts matter.
the rumors of your death are exaggerated, i see.
i leave for a week and you fall apart.
you can fall in love with someone from their smile.
have you ever sat with someone as they died?
i'm kind of learning to be alone.
i'm not sure i could really trust anyone who wasn't tempted by an oreo for breakfast, on occasion.
this is going to be so wonderfully awkward. i can hardly wait.
i just go to wakes sometimes.
what happens if i can't redeem myself?
was electricity new when you were little?
how do you say 'horse's ass' in [language]?
you're sweet to ask. most people don't.
i like your face.
can you swim?
you take a lot of words to say very little.
i'm trying to change my narrative.
you're movie star handsome.
are you saying you meet me?
caskets are four-sided. coffins are six-sided, and wider at the top.
i sort of love you. i kind of care about you.
have some kids. they're the only things that keep me sane.
you strike me as someone desperate for a vacation.
we get better. we heal.
if you die, can i have your office chair?
please don't mistake this as affection or friendship.
elegance is not your strong suit.
what would you want to change, if you could?
i think my tear ducts might not actually work.
i wouldn't change a day of my life. i'd just like more of it.
do you mind if we sit for a bit?
we don't talk about death much as a society, do we?
you sound like a hallmark card.
no one likes golf. even golfers don't like it.
i'm not sure who i was trying to impress.
i worry i'm boring you.
we can change. maybe it's just a bit, but that little bit is everything.
i'm sorry. i should have said something.
i didn't expect to like you.
you should come out with a line of sad greeting cards.
i want to be forgiven.
sometimes i hear my own voice and i hate it.
you think i'm better than i am.
i'll shut up. just know i'd be lost without you.
it's your birthday. you're the king.
i've heard about you, but i've never met you.
i wanted to shoot the dude, but who is that helping?
how many days to you experience something for the first time?
there's no small talk among friends. ask.
we hold the past in our body. it never forgets, but it can learn to let it go.
what are you still doing here? go home.
except for you almost dying, i had a lovely evening.
you're a moron. that's what i love about you.
it's remarkable what you can do, when you don't care what anyone thinks anymore.
i thought maybe i could help.
tell your father to go fuck himself.
i believed in santa until i was twelve.
i'm not sure if i believed in _____, or if i wanted to believe so much that i convinced myself.
you saved me. you did.
if this were the last time you were ever going to see me, what would you say?
i like your face.
would you come to my funeral?
if this were a movie, it would be foreshadowing.
if this were a buddy movie, i'd put my arm around your shoulders.
there's so much about you i don't like. where do i even start?
I bear witness to your existence
The Laev quest was super good and it finally got me off my ass to draw again
