‘You’re important.’ I’ve been fixated on the words all day. ‘You’re my mentor.’
That was when I really lost my cool at Delina. I was doing well. Calm and collected, objective, getting the facts and trying to demonstrate how her actions weren’t necessary and therefore foolish. And then---that. She gives me that look, that look of fear and respect and fucking dependence on me, and I crumbled. I lost it. Almost--I could have lost it far worse. But I did lose it.
I got emotional. I swore. I told her the things she didn’t want to hear and phrased them ways that I knew would hit home hard. I told her that so long as she’s got that growth, she’s a liability---fuck, it’s true, but it’s harsh. I was angry at her, though. Angry that she’d put herself in that situation when she didn’t have to. Worried that if using magic is causing her memory loss, what else might it be hurting? She’s so concerned that she’s useless now, what will she think of herself if she’s unable to use magic---ever? What if that’s the cost? Or worse, what if that thing grows to a point where she’s too far gone to save?
I don’t---I can’t have that. Can’t tolerate her doing that. I’m not going to invest this much fucking time and effort into someone and lose them to idiocy. I admit that I didn’t teach her thoroughly the limitations of ‘whatever you need to do to get the job done’, I should have been more explicit. I know she’d go to any length for someone she considered family.
And I will, I will nail that thing to her fucking head if she risks herself again. If that’s the one thing stopping that growth from destroying her, I will damn well open her up and nestle it snug between her organs where she can’t get it. Or keep her in a comatose state until we can figure out how to get rid of the growth. If she thinks I’m joking, she’s got another thing coming. I will do whatever is necessary to keep my own safe, even if they hate me for it.
Still. Mentor? She only asked of me to teach her combat techniques, and I’ve overstepped at times---even got to the point of possibly asking if she would allow me to be her mentor, but I held my tongue. I remembered how Teion relied on me and how well that didn’t turn out. I don’t want to let her down or teach her wrong or worse.
I don’t want to be Mavern.
I was harsh on her. I want her to be accountable for her actions and experience what it takes to set things right when you fuck up. I want her to be able to accept fair punishment with grace and dignity, and know when to walk away. I’m--not sure I was fair on her in terms of the punishment I delivered, though. Triple? From the moment I said it, I’ve had flashbacks to the aching pain of constant practice. Begging to be able to stop. Did I go too far?
I don’t know. I really don’t know. To be honest, I don’t know what a reasonable amount of practice really is. I know that what I do daily keeps me well in shape and continually refining my skills, but I also know that on the whole it’s more than other daily routines. I can’t hold her to that standard, not really. But she wants to learn, and to be useful, and there’s no better way to accelerate sword learning than to just practice.
Hopefully. When she has a skill she cannot lose. She will be more secure in her ability to be useful. Apparently I’m her mentor. It’s my duty more than ever to help her find her place in life and to be her best. Is this what she wants, though? Really? Someone like Trisbaine would be better. Gentler. I can help her physical state and her skills, but the rest? The life stuff? She’s so open-hearted and sweet and full of life, things that should be protected at all costs. Not subjected my cynicism and paranoia.
She’s chosen me for reasons I can’t fathom. I’ve warned her as best I can, and--selfish as it is--I don’t want to give up this chance, either. Revilion, gods love him, believes I can do it. He always believes the best. Maybe he’ll be able to stop me fucking it up. I don’t want Delina to turn into what I am. I want her to be as she is, only wiser, stronger, more stable.
She made a fool’s choice putting herself at risk, but I’ve spoken to her on it. One of the officers will need to have words with her, and she will need to hear from those she upset how they felt when she acted the way she did. Those are consequences of her actions. But gods almighty, no one else had better step in. If there’s anything that shits me, it’s when others insist on punishing someone repeatedly for the same mistake, because they haven’t had a chance to get their two copper in. People who haven’t the authority to mete out discipline or lectures.
I won’t have it done to her. She made a mistake. She doesn’t need to be yelled at by every member of the coalition with an opinion. Just the leadership with authority to do so, and... me.
Band together against tyranny and injustice!! Make a Commoners ONLY Market!! Tell our Ministers to send the Sylvari home !! End crop burnings!!
*Posters bearing these words have been put up in many places throughout the City, including the district of Rurikton, and each of the others as well. Even the exterior of the Ministry Chambers became a target . There was one to be found, bold as brass, on the doors to the castle, but for the alert Seraph who tore it down. *
Sometimes Sadrienne writes angry letters or notices. Sometimes she sends them. This one she didn’t. Thankfully.
Dear Verdance,
I understand that I don’t make things clear. I understand that I have a habit of leaving you with half the information, that I have my own life outside of the Source and that there are things about my private life that you as a coalition are not privy to. And that’s largely because it’s none of your business. But seeing as there’s some overwhelming need to take aspects and choices from my private life and judge my professional life by them, well fuck it—here’s your damn gossip.
Yes, Revilion is in the infirmary. By the gods, did he do another stupid thing and get himself injured? Please, it’s too warm here to be rubbing your hands like that, don’t you dare tell me you’re not feeling some sort of smug pleased. Yes, Revilion, the one with the attitude who runs with the wrong crowd. He of little morals and so lacking in goodness that he couldn’t possibly be one of us. The one with the temper that flares at the slightest provocation—yes, him. I bet you saw it coming, no doubt that’s how his life will end. Stupidly. At the end of yet another rash decision, and you’ve all warned me. Oh how you’ve all made it abundantly clear that he is trouble.
And how you made it so damn clear to him, too.
But it gets better, Verdance. I asked him to take me back. You read that right—I asked him. Not he begged me, he hasn’t been following me about pleading to resume our relationship. I asked him. He asked for some time to think about it, and now he’s in a fucking coma. My luck is just neverending and please, don’t even hide that smile. He’s hurting you again, Sadie, oh—just fucking say it. I’m sick of seeing it in your eyes. He’s bad for you, you can do better, you don’t need to be cleaning up his messes like this, he’s going to drag you into trouble.
Let’s get one thing fucking straight. He has never intentionally hurt me. He’s never gone out of his way to be cruel to me. He has never lifted a hand to me in anger, and he has never put me in a position of danger. With the work that we do, we both had to accept that there was an element of danger in being close to the other---did you even consider that being with me might put him at risk? Of course you didn’t. And did you even ask what he does? No, no you didn’t. It’s a gods-damned trade empire, complete with private muscle. They operate for profit. Do they dip below the law at times? Of course they do.
Don’t forget that we do, and have, as well. You can drop that self-righteous look. It has no place here. It might not be the most honourable profession but it’s a far cry from the codeless mongrel mercenaries of the Reach. Which is what you seem to think he is.
You seem to think he is entirely without ethics. He’s rash and impulsive, he’s not particularly suited to a command environment. People having authority over him makes him wildly uncomfortable. I guess you never asked about why that is---the time he spent at the beck and call of pirates who used and abused him. Why would he want to give anyone that power over him? He had a chance to escape that captivity and he took it. Perhaps I’d feel the same way if I hadn’t gone back into service almost straight away. On that point, though we have grown differently from it, we relate to each other. His understanding for my experience is valuable.
He’s passionate. It drives him, sometimes to decisions that aren’t necessarily the ones that you or I would make, but they are his decisions. He acts quickly. Not always with wisdom, but he gets things done. It sickens him to see people hurt, he feels deeply for the downtrodden, he’s fiercely loyal to those who earn it. He would go to the ends of Cantha to put a smile on someone’s face. He would let his mind and body waste away if it meant someone he cared for would live. And if you’ve not seen that, it’s because you haven’t earned it. Because you haven’t given him the chance to show you.
He tried. He tried so hard during his stint at the coalition, to conform to what you---what I thought I wanted. To fit in with our authority structure and to curb his impulsive nature, to act in a way that he’d never learned to be. A way that in some respects, he never wants to be. Do I think he could benefit from thinking more before he acts? Yes, I do. But the level of expectation I held at that time, the ideal that I tried to force him into was constricting and cruel. Worse yet, it destroyed some of the parts of him that I loved the most. His determination to get the job done at any cost, his sense of freedom. He tried so hard to be that, to impress all of us, and to be accepted that it destroyed him when he continued to be treated as an outcast.
He hurt every day and I did nothing but try and tell him how he could be different to be one of us. I’m ashamed of that now. I was motivated by this certainty that I had constructed that if he was not like us—if he could not be family—I too would be outcast for so long as I was with him. So I made a choice. I chose the coalition. I didn’t hate the way he was, he never hurt me. I tried to make him something he’s not, but that was an error on my part. I didn’t do it so I would love him more. I did it so I wouldn’t feel I had to choose anymore. When I realised my cruelty, that’s when I chose to leave him. So he could be his own person without my interference.
So he could be the person that I actually fucking love.
And you look at me now, pathetic Sadrienne, despairing over his broken body. Yet again, cleaning up his mess. When will I ever stop? I’ll tell you. I’ll stop the day he stops returning that help. When he stops trying to make me smile on the days I feel like I can’t, when he stops asking me how I am and how he can help. On the day he finds me beaten and vulnerable, and walks away instead of taking me in? Then I’ll stop. And it has happened. Since our separation, it has happened. He’s provided me support at almost every turn even though it hurts him to do so, and no—you aren’t aware of that. He does it without expecting any reward. He doesn’t brag about the times he’s rescued me and nor does he hold them over my head. He doesn’t even expect me to return it.
Do you see now why I have to try again? Aside from the fact that I’ve never stopped needing or wanting him near me, aside from the fact that I could be entirely consumed by a project and he breaks me out of it by just walking into the room---I owe it to both of us to try again and do it properly. To treat him with the love and respect that he deserves. That’s not to say that there aren’t things that I hope he would do differently, there are. I want him to see me as I am, not as he romanticises. I’d ask him to be civil in dealing with you, but I wouldn’t go as far as to make him one of us. Not this time.
And what he learns from there is up to him. If he learns to surrender to some authority, wonderful. If he learns to calm his attitude and think things through before acting, that’s nice. But I don’t expect it. I may be frustrated by it, but that’s between us. Like all of this—all of it is between me and him. You don’t get a say, I never should have let myself believe I had to choose.
I don’t know what happens from here. If he wakes up, or if he doesn’t—if he wants to try again or if he doesn’t. I’ve put it out there. If he refuses, I have to accept it. If he accepts and it still fails, I hope it won’t hurt as much as it does now, feeling that I mistreated him. Guilt is a factor, but it’s not the only one. I want to do this. I want him to know how much I truly love him.
The year has gone too fast. More productive than the last, though. I don’t know how this new year of my life has started. It may already be the worst one yet. I don’t know when I’ll know one way or the other, I only hope it’s soon. Lack of information has never sat well with me.
Delina is progressing well. I’m proud of her. Ashamed that in such a short time she has seen too many of my less appealing sides, caught me at weaker points, but her own strength grows. She used a healing mist to calm a deranged sapling. I’ll endeavour to teach her more medical things as we go, she is naturally inclined to help people. And she worries she will be useless. There is nothing more useful than someone who can save your life in a critical moment.
Adaline---the human girl. Older than myself in time, but just a child. Shelter and steady food have her looking healthy. Even happy in some lights, it’s good to see her getting strong. I’ve had no luck yet finding a human family that is suitable. I don’t know if I should be looking for one with or without their own children. She would be so loving to siblings---but what if she was neglected for their blood children? That wouldn’t do. I still hope to find a family and a parent that will be able to instruct her magic as well. To be carefully guided to grow into her magic by someone she trusts and loves, who loves her back--that sounds ideal to me. That family is out there and I will find it for her.
In the meantime, I will begin her instruction. She’s seen none of the world--so I will begin on that too. Queensdale, the Source. Places beyond the city. She’s never seen a forest or an ocean. I’m excited to show her. Tyria is such a beautiful place, there are so many things I want to share.
The sapling case moves slowly. I have some ideas and rough plans. I’ll need to speak with Oaken about putting them into action--I’m going to need people. On their own will, just to help dig into some information with me. Now that I’m not in the Silverwastes, I’m also looking into ways the Coalition can prove the worth of sylvari. That takes up some reading time of a morning.
Until now, the last moonlit moments of my first day being fifteen. I still don’t know where he is, what his answer is, or if he even breathes to answer at all. I made some reference to his plight in the kitchens, but only Santii (and Rhionna, though Rhionna doesn’t know the full extent of who he is and what it means) knows it is him. Only they know that I asked for a second chance.
If we are wrong or right, I don’t know. Perhaps he is a mistake I long to make a second time, or perhaps he’s the partner Mother intended on our making. I know that I miss him, and I know that I love him still. I was never forced to make a choice between him and the coalition, I convinced myself of that. That was my mistake. Things will need to be different if it’s to work. I can’t tell him who, or what, to be. I have to accept his work and who he works for, so long as it doesn’t endanger myself or the coalition.
I’d like him to see me, as I am. Flawed and growing. I’d like him to try and make peace with the coalition, so they can see the way he loves me. I’d like to start slowly. To rediscover each other. If it’s to be, then it will be. If not---perhaps my heart can rest knowing we truly tried this time. That I gave it every chance.
It may all be irrelevant. I don’t know his fate yet, I’m scared. He errs on the side of arrogance, not fear---for him to be so concerned that he might not come back from an operation, it chills me. There’s nothing I can do. Just sit, and wait for this news. Even if he doesn’t wish to try again, I’ll still be overjoyed, and only because he lives.
I know you’ll fight your hardest. You don’t know how to give up. But I’m begging, please fight that little bit harder. I may survive without you, and I may even find happiness beyond you, but nothing will truly soothe the break in my heart if you don’t come back.
This amazing picture of Sadrienne done by thisgolddolyak and I freaking love it (you should absolutely commission them in fact here’s a handy link to their very reasonable rates).
Brilliant artist to work with. Took into account everything I rambled on with, and produced something so super amazing I can’t even deal. I love that it’s her not just a reinterpretation of the character model.
She looks real. And like she could kick you to the Shiverpeaks and back.
My blogs: ms-sadrienne (IC), inshiftingcolour (ooc)
14. Do you have a crush on anyone?Not currently. I did--but that was more a craving for some sort of touch and comfort than it was an actual romantic crush. Everything is good on that front. Trying to put all the romantic nonsense to one side for a while, I don’t have the time for it and it doesn’t seem to matter what I do, it just ends up hurting.Going to do what I do best. Work. I’m statistically less likely to completely fuck that up than I am any sort of relationship.
30. Have you ever considered plastic surgery? If so, what would you change about your body?I don’t suppose I have? I mean, I had scars removed some time back. They were on my face and I couldn’t deal with it. I don’t like scars. They’re little reminders that I forgot to duck and failed at healing the area in time. Two counts of screwing up. But if I could change anything. Anything? Could I please have hair? Long and silky. Something I can braid or run my fingers through, or change the colour of with dyes.
... Would I have to scalp a human for that?
76. What’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for someone?I set up a picnic date for me and Ardanta? I actually don’t know. I put a lot of heart into some gestures but that doesn’t make them sweet or well received. I really don’t know... I’m going to stick with the date.
Name of your Muse: Sadrienne (Sadrienne Lyllea Sebelle)
One Picture You Like Best of Your Muse’s FC:
She was created on a whim, but later inspired by acacia baileyana purpurea in terms of how she was edited to look.
And in flower:
Two head canons that you have for your muse that you never told anyone:
1. She used to be terrified of her own kind. The sensation of being so connected to other sylvari was confronting and confusing for her once she left the dream, and the overwhelming drive of her hunt set her at odds with the elders in the Grove who wanted her to stay where she was until she’d settled into her physical life. Sadrienne literally escaped the Grove at less than a day old, running for the place her body knew it needed to be. Other sylvari were enemies that would take her back against her will.
This belief was manipulated further by her mentor, Mavern, who instructed her that sylvari were fundamentally wicked and in need of strict guidance to be of any worth. He used this to keep her from trying to communicate with other sylvari and break his hold over her. The result was a deep fear of other sylvari that lasted well into her days with House Sebelle---where it became less a controlling fear, and more of a deep suspicion and reluctance to be around them.
Even now it lingers. She’s comfortable around the family, but incredibly cautious around unfamiliar sylvari. Despite its issues, she much prefers Divinity’s Reach and the company of humans to the still-awkward feeling of being in the Grove.
2. She forgot her own name. Sadrienne was brought to House Sebelle by the youngest daughter Lily, who she’d met and tentatively befriended through a harrowing experience in which they supported and saved each other. Prior to that she’d spent her entire life in the command of a man who only ever called her ‘sylvari’ at best. She never got to speak her name in the Grove on awakening, she’d never actually used it. When Lily first asked her name, the question confused her. Her answer was ‘Sylvari’.
Later, when she finally understood that the Sebelles were not going to trap and treat her the way that Mavern did (nor were they going to send her back to the Grove to be captive), the memory returned to her. By then the Sebelles knew and referred to her as ‘Sylvie’, which later became a frequent alias and one she uses still.
Upon remembering, she slunk into the office of Eamon Sebelle, lord of the house, finding him still there working though it was the middle of the night. He smiled and welcomed her in, though the girl was still very cautious of his intent toward her. He said to her, ‘You’re safe here, Sylvie.’ and she responded: ‘No. I am Sadrienne.’
Three things that your muse likes doing in their free time:
1. Running. There’s a pure joy and freedom in it that she loves. Although she also enjoys other physical activities, she’s trained herself to not emotionally involve herself while casting magic. She loves to run until her breath and legs wear out, and all she can do is collapse on the ground and giggle at the sky.
2. Teaching. She won’t admit it. She’ll never admit it, and she’ll certainly never stand up and present herself as any sort of role model. Sadrienne is terrified of being relied on, especially since things with Teion went so poorly. But she can’t help herself. When she sees an elementalist struggling, or someone who can only defend themselves with magic and not their hands, she feels compelled to step in. And she takes a lot of pride in seeing those she’s taught succeed.
3. Hobby. Sad as it is, one of her hobbies is finding a hobby. She’s tried a few things, from cooking to crochet and sewing, eventually getting frustrated when her ability does not match up to her ideal. She’s a terrible cook and has zero design ability outside of matching up a nice outfit. Friends are likely to get horrendous looking presents from her spawned from whatever she has tried most recently. Although she’s not the worst seamstress (her stitches are impeccable), she’s not so good at sewing fabric as she is flesh. She’s always on the hunt for that next thing that might stick with her and define her outside of the realms of ‘soldier’ and ‘doctor’.
Two things your muse regrets:
1. Not being able to save X. If she knew someone that had something horrible happen to them, chances are she blames herself for it. This is especially true of Rohaern Redanvic, Palvira (who she killed on command) and Eamon Sebelle. As a doctor and soldier she believes it is her utmost duty to protect and save those who are harmed around her. Failing isn’t something she copes with well, and her ability to submerse herself in guilt over things that aren’t her fault is legendary.
2. Leaving Revilion. Although she still stands by her reasoning, she has her own selfish regret over doing it. She’s not moved on, despite repeated attempts, and of late has given up entirely. Without his support she’s found herself more at a loss and less able to cope, and if she had less morals there’s a high chance she would attempt to take him back to satisfy those needs. But she truly does believe it was in his best interests that she not manipulate his growth in any way, and so she won’t.
Two phobias your muse has:
1. Bees. When in flower, Sadie’s pollen levels go through the roof. Her flowers are essentially small yellow balls of pure pollen, which makes her a very attractive target for bees. Unfortunately for the poor girl, she doesn’t flower anywhere that is typically visible. Sadie doesn’t get bees in her bonnet--she gets bees in her knickers. It’s uncomfortable, and she hates it. Her flowers are also fragile and liable to fall free at any moment--which is precisely the reason she wears knickers in the first place.
2. Being wicked. It’s her deepest fear, instilled in her for as long as she can remember. Some days she accepts herself as a ‘monster’, but always as a monster or a tool for those who would have her do good. On her better days, she strives to make every step toward becoming a good person. She’s overly concerned with the reasons why she does things, whether the actions are justified or not. She will never be sure if she can atone for what she’s already done, nor is she entirely sure what ‘being good’ means. For most of her life it meant being ‘more human’, so she’s a little lost still as to what it means to be sylvari and how that can relate to also being ‘good’.
Tag ten people to do the same thing: vilathara, searil-hebion, shadows-in-a-dream, gin-and-torrents, magister-delina, mordrememe, and anyone else who just wants to!
Fun fact for Americans: our money is technically made of plastic and they won’t get wet/gross when you accidentally wash them, and you also can’t rip any bills.
The funniest thing ever is to see canadians try to use american money. One of my friends asked me “HOW DO YOU GUYS KNOW WHICH ONE IS WHICH?! THEY’RE ALL THE SAME COLOR!”
pixelskylines
izzy806
yousharknotpass
amandla
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