When the woods speak, listen.

Indie & Private Roleplay blog for Original characters based of the Spiders game, Greedfall.

[royallytwistednauts-blog]

“Graviir did more listening than watching at this point. It seemed the other had made up their mind and they were taking him with them regardless of is he was half past dead or not. He wasn’t sure how the other was going to manage it but he figured he was going to have to stay awake long enough to keep on his feet - something he wasn’t sure he’d be able to manage either. The thoughts were abandoned as the other spoke and before long he could hear the sound of fabric tearing and managed to open his eyes just enough to see his blade in the hands of the other and the strangers cape being torn apart. He knew what was happening, the question of why it was a brief concern since they were a noble after all and now ruining one of their own garments. For him it seemed...

His eyes fell closed again as the strangers hands were on him and at his throat once more. The last thing he should be doing was closing his eyes, but then, he didn’t care if they were a threat any longer and seeing as they seemed set on saving him, he doubted they were taking the moment to go in for the kill now. No, it seemed they were trying to find a better way to staunch the bleeding once more, and they were set on moving somewhere drier and safer after the fact. 

They moved and he wasn’t sure how, or what was keeping him going at this point. He’d heard the words of the other saying his home wasn’t too far but between the fog of his mind and the dark of the streets - not to mention the ache that had set to the entirety of his body - it seemed like every step took a lifetime to complete. He didn’t know when they had finally arrived or where they were for that matter, he just knew his body nearly keeled over the moment they were through the doorway, the heat from the room welcoming compared to the damp, chilly air who knows how long he had been in now. Had it seemed that bad originally, before all this had started? He’d never know for sure, he was too far gone before the drink, and before the blood loss... 

“What’s-- “ Graviir didn’t know what to say or to do or to ask as he was helped into a bed. Part of his desperately hoping this wasn’t the noble’s own bed and that he, himself, wasn’t ruining it between the blood and grime he knew all too well he was covered in. He could still feel it, now mostly dry against his skin, clothes stuck to him in strange ways that nearly had him wanting to tear them off then and there. “Fuck.” He thought, listening to the other scurry around, somewhere? As he realized the heat was already seeping into him, the dull ache he had appreciated sometime earlier lifting and with that, some sense of clarity returning. Clarity he did not need or want and desperately wished he could pass out and hope this was all a very bad dream. 

Eyes were shut when the noble returned, god forbid sleep could have taken him, but it chose not too, perhaps something akin to a punishment, but it mattered little in the moment as he opened his eyes once more, squinting briefly as he adjusted to the light again and looked over the things that were not being set down. “Don’t apologize.” He muttered lowly as he tilted his head slightly to the side to give the noble better access to the wound. He didn’t know why he was bothering but the sooner this was over, the sooner he could get out of the their hair and the sooner they could forget every coming across Graviir. That was for the better, right? 

The antiseptic stung, as they both knew it would and he couldn’t help but hiss through clenched teeth. It was good though, pain was good, it let him focus on something else besides the countless thoughts running through his mind at the moment. The stitches didn’t feel much better, but he guessed they were necessary. It was a strange stop for both bandages and stitches, but even more so for a wound and one that was easy to irritate and cause to bleed again. This was going to be a joy to deal with... he thought to himself as the other seemed to finish what they were doing. 

“Stay still, stay alive. Right.” He practically snorted. Almost a wild look in  his eyes briefly before he took a deep breath and shut his eyes, only to open them a moment later. “Nobleman, you plan on telling me your name?” He tried to soften his voice, soften the way he looked at him. But soft was not something Grav did easily, however, he did nearly break their nose against a wall, and bleed all over them, trying to be soft for a moment was something he needed to do. 

“Thank you, by the way.” He finally added, eyes shifting toward the ceiling, not sure what came next now. Sleep or being kicked out onto the street. His body ached, his head was pounding, damn, what he wouldn't give for a bath and a shot of something strong. Enough had already been done and he dared not ask for anymore. A bath could wait until he found his way back to the manor he and Marquis were staying in. The last thing he wanted was to let the noble waste anything else on him. 

[royallytwistednauts-blog]

Graviir watched everything in slow motion, even that of the other moving closer towards him. Instincts said to stand, to fight, and maybe even to flee. Alas, he didn’t have it in him and he was mostly sure that the other wasn’t here to finish him off. Although, most other men probably would, use it to their advantage. Hell, the renown for walking around saying they not only bested but killed the man De Sardet would definitely have its perks. But here the other was, rifling though his pockets before crouching down before him, and even though he could se him coming, watched as the tissue was pulled forth and another hand reached for him, he still couldn’t help but flinch away.

He let him though... and he didn’t know why. Not why he was doing this or why he, himself was letting him move his hand and add the cloth against the wound. He just didn’t have it in him to fight anymore. Somewhere between the booze and the now dulling ache of the gashes against his cheek and neck had made him seemingly forget. None of this was going the way it should have been - the way it was supposed to go.

“Move... damp... an infection.” The words almost seemed teasing in his muddled mind, but somehow he knew the other was serious and maybe that was because of the persistence he had shown so far. An infection, another slow way of dying, still, it seemed fitting for one such as himself and once more, he had not the heart nor the will to argue. Not to mention the fact this stranger still had yet to answer his question. To be fair though, the question hadn’t been exactly clear but surely in his state that could be looked over..? Why help him? Why stop him? Why did the stranger from the bar say that he didn’t want him to die. “Hell... Why did any of it matter?” He thought to himself as the other was replacing a hand over his own and offering him a sweet smile. He didn’t deserve it or any of his kindness.

“I know what it’s like to lose those that mean something to you...” Those words cut through him like glass, jagged and feeling every place it nicked. Had he the strength, any of it, he might have surely shoved the stranger away then and there - tell him to go fuck himself - as he would anyone else. Sure, he may had known about the events of the day but surely there was know way he knew of his and Kurt’s past, or the way Graviir felt now because of it. It didn’t matter what he thought himself, it’s not like he could act on any of it in the moment. He just hoped whatever composure he had left, he could keep it.

“Grav- iir.” He nearly growled out, yellow eyes slightly narrowing at the other for a moment before he found himself looking away and leaning head head against the cool, damp brick of the wall behind him. De Sardet wasn’t even his name. Sure. he’d been called by it, lived in the household of the De Sardets... another secret few now knew, but he and Marquis, no. They were never truly De Sardets. If the lad was going to stick around, he might as well know the man’s real name. Even for a noble, the fact he didn’t seem to know it was a little impressive, if not suspicious. 

The more words falls from the other’s lips, words Graviir should like to ponder. What would Kurt think? It was almost laughable, and he would laugh if he could. Kurt didn’t and wouldn’t get a say so. He’d taken the same way out Grav was planning...

Then, then he did laugh, a short, low chuckle that seemed to pain him to do. “You? Take care of me?” Graviir had asked him earlier about having a death wish, didn’t he? Surely the smaller statured man before him with the lovely hair couldn’t be serious. It wasn’t even a question of himself anymore but what others might think should they see the noble dragging back the Legate’s muscle. He also know if hetold the other to leave him, he wasn’t going to listen. They wouldn’t be where they were now if he had listened to anything Graviir said at all. 

Honestly, what more did he have to loose he wondered as he took the other’s hand, and used what little strength he did have to get back to his feet, part of him knowing full well the other would not be able to handle his mass. Once up, he swayed lightly, it was dizzying as he got to his feet once more and he could feel a new heat against his skin as the movement caused him st start bleeding more, his heart trying to keep up with the man as he went from near lifeless to moving again and he had to brace against the wall once more. 

“Don’t think we’re going anywhere.” He muttered and let his eyes flutter shut. This wasn’t him fighting, he was being realistic and unless the stranger before him had some basic magic or a nearby place, he’d be left dragging the man at this rate. 

[royallytwistednauts-blog]

Graviir was too lost in his own thoughts to realize he was being followed, let alone approaching so closely. He just wanted to lie down and die. He was set on it, and on removing the mark from his skin. Too bad it wasn’t the only thing that could identify him, but if he died close enough to the water’s edge, he could be washed out with the tide, no mess to clean up, no body to carry back and burn. This was easier, even if it was selfish. That’s all people would know and see as well, the selfishness. They would never know what happened to him growing up, the bond he had for Kurt, a captain of the coin guard whom he had let slip beyond his grasp and who had now paid the ultimate sin for it. A sin Graviir was committed to paying as well. 

The blade flashed again, burning into his skin another jagged, probably gross mark that seeped warmth along his jaw, down to his neck and shoulder. A warmth that shouldn’t have felt as good as it did. Senses seemed to dull further with the latest cut, alcohol still thick in his system - this was better - that clarity he had hoped to find in the dark corner of the tavern finally seeming to find him now. 

Graviir lingered a little now, the dagger held before him, watching the way the moon reflected off what was once polished steel, now finding the wisps of silver that hadn’t yet been coated in his own blood. Still, he hadn’t noticed the approaching stranger, far too gone in his own thoughts before a voice rang out, crashing through his skull like a rogue wave against the hull of the ship and before he knew it, a hand had his arm and years of instinct kicked in.

The hand that had grabbed his arm was grabbed and pinned back behind the back of the stranger as Graviir forced him against the wal of the alley, nearly crushing his chest to it, a low growl in his throat - what strength he usually had was nowhere in sight though, and even as he pinned the other, it was pure reflex, and between the alcohol and the blood loss, he only held him like that for a moment before backing off and finally taking in who had interrupted him for the second time tonight. 

“Fucks’ ake.” He slurred and nearly collapsed against the brick wall opposite the other. His breaths were shallow, and yellow eyes stared the other down - though, oddly, there was no menace behind them, but confusion and obvious sadness. “Ye shouldn’t ‘o come.” He muttered, eyes slowly looking around, wondering if there was anyone else to witness the spectacle but luckily they were alone. The glinting of silver caught his eye and he realized he’d lost his dagger in the minor scuffle, something else that seemed to be a first to happen since his training days that now seemed like they happened lifetimes ago. 

He was ready to say something else, to move on, to do anything else but be left to wallow in his own pity with this stranger from the tavern. He didn’t have the mindset to feel embarrassed or ashamed though, actually, he didn’t have the mindset for much as he let himself slide to the ground, almost in a heap. 

“I don’t want you to die...” The words fluttered through Grav’s mind. When had he heard them? The scuffle? And why did it matter, they didn’t know one another and the noble sure as hell didn’t owe him a gods damned thing, but here he was - they were - and Graviir couldn’t manage to say anything now. for a moment, all he could think about was how pathetic, how low he’d finally sunk and someone got to see it. Not just anyone either, a noble, someone who could spread the word just as fast, if not faster than word of the Coup had spread. 

“Why?” he finally managed to ask, so low he wondered if the other could even hear him. His hand reached up slowly to scratch at his birthmark, a tick he never realized he had until fingers scratched at an open wound and he whimpered quietly. Fingers adjusting slightly, wrist twisting, he wrapped his hand around the open, and still heavily bleeding wound, his palm coating in red quickly as he applied what pressure he could. If he was going to die like this, he would at least live long enough to hear the answer to his question. 

[assassintine]

Can I ask 07, 13, 22, 31, 40, for Graviir please? ~Poison

07. Is there a catchphrase or sound that they tend to make a lot (likely without being aware of it)?

There’s not so much of a catchphrase as there are sounds. Graviir doesn’t much care for talking and or people talking to him. Especially if her just woke up.Grunts and “Mmms.” Is about all you’ll get out of his unless he’s in a good mood or he favors you above others. If you’re babbling on to him and or he finds you annoying, expect heavy sighs.

13. What are your character’s sleeping habits? Heavy or light sleeper? Blanket stealer? One that always rolls onto the floor? Pushes their lover onto the floor? Sleep talker or walker?

Graviir is probably considered a heavy sleeper, although somehow he still manages to stay alert… If he’s out and about, on mission or sleeping somewhere unfamiliar he can and will wake up in an instant. However he has learned to fall asleep anywhere so that if he’s on the road or missions for days at a time he can at least get a few minutes of shut eye here and there. Very rarely will he ever sleep with his guard completely down and only when he’s sure of the place he’s staying in and the people around him. 

Being completely exhausted is a different matter and he will pass out and sleep like the dead. 

Other than that, there’s not really anything special. Blanket or no blanket and he can keep pretty still. Probably stemming from the few years he spent training in the guard barracks in Serene.  

22. What kind of tattoos, piercings, birthmarks, freckles, and other such unique physical features do they have?

There’s not much of not beyond the little freckles that litter his shoulder blades and the dozens of scars he has, the most prominent being the one on his cheek from where he maimed himself trying to remove his birth mark. There is also a small tattoo on the inside of his right ankle of the coin guard symbol with hints of blue color in it. Do not ask him why he got it, you’ll get the “I was drunk and stupid” response, if he gives you a response as well. In reality, the tattoo is a symbol of his and Kurt’s bond and he’s not even sure if Kurt is aware of it and he’s fine with Kurt not knowing.

31. Would your character be the kind capable of killing? Would they enjoy killing or only use it when necessary or, perhaps, refuse to kill no matter what?

Grav is not only capable of killing, he is more than fine with it. And yes, often he takes pleasure in it. However, he does not kill without purpose (even if that purpose, at times, is small). Do not try and trick him though because he won’t hesitate to turn his axes against you.    

40. Does your OC have any guilty pleasures they enjoy? Hobbies, past times, music, etc that they wouldn’t want known by others?

Yes and no? He’s a drinker and likes his expensive bourbon above all other drink. He’s not the kind of man to flash his wealth though and will usually only drink said bourbon when alone. He doesn’t enjoy the fact he comes from a prestigious family… He IS fond of bathing however and will soak any chance he gets. Being the loner he claims himself to be, he enjoys his alone time, but he also enjoys the way taking a proper bath seems to alleviate the tension in his muscles and help relax him. He’s just always so tense. 

Thanks for the asks Poison! @naut-icallychallenged

[assassintine]

Graviir 👀 tell me more? Could he make a tiny little space in his heart for someone?

@the-cowboy-druid

Oh gosh, what to tell..? I would like to think he could make space in his heart for someone. I mean he did for Kurt once upon a time ago, so why not again? It would take a lot of effort on the other person’s part though. Like, he’s not okay with himself, he’s not good to himself and let’s just face it, his quality of life is just poor. Even Marquis can’t get Graviir to take care of himself beyond cleaning wounds and properly defending himself. Alcohol is NOT breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Although, while he won’t admit it, he will protect the one’s he care’s about. Marquis, Constantin, Vasco and Siora… He can be a rude asshole, abrupt, but he would do anything for them.

So whomever wanted to get close to him would just have to work at it. He’s going to try and push them away, but eventually he can be worn down, and if a person wanted more from him, then it’s the little things that are going to go a long way… Being checked on after a fight, taking the liquor away when he’s had to much, soft subtle touches and so on…

[assassintine]

50,32,25,2,1 for Graviir >:3c

01. What does your character’s name mean? Did you pick it for the symbolism, or did you just like the way it sounded?

Graviir doesn’t exactly mean anything. It’s one of those names where I kind tried to put things together (while I was falling asleep) and that’s what it ended up as, because yes, I liked the way it sounded. Although the root word of his name is Grave… like a tombstone or a grave plot hehe. So I guess there is some symbolism in that. He was meant to be an asshole but he turned into a broken mess that I fell in love with. 

02. What is one of your character’s biggest insecurities? Are they able to hide it easily or can others easily exploit this weakness?  

His native marking without a doubt. At first it was nothing because he didn’t understand. Then came the day when he caught onto the way people looked at him, the stares he would get at court. Maybe it was just the way adults in court behaved? But then the kids from wealthier status families started too, and well, kids are cruel so when the bullying started Graviir wasn’t silent anymore, he answered words with fists and it would spur into countless troubles for him later on. 

The fact he preferred to do more talking with his fists than actual talking is the biggest reason he never became Legate and his younger brother Marquis did. 

Later on, once on Tir Fradi and having learned his and Marquis’ history, that they were actually FROM the island and with Kurt’s death following the coup, he gets drunk and tries to remove the mark from his face. Covering it with his beard just didn’t cut it anymore but because he was found before he could (hopefully) bleed to death (as was his intention) He was instead left with deep scars that even said beard couldn’t grow right over any more. 

It’s an incredibly exploitable weakness to this day. 

25. Is there something traumatic from your character’s past that greatly affects them even to this day?

Besides the history with his native marking. He also, for a time, grew up alongside Kurt. It was under special circumstances that he was sent to the barracks on Serene and was to be trained alongside Kurt and others. It was Prince D’Orsays hope that it would mellow him out, or at least teach his some other ways to behave and deal with his anger issues. 

What the prince didn’t realize was what happened after lights out and behind the closed doors of the barracks and a lot of the trauma Kurt was subjected too, Graviir was as well. For a time, the two were each other’s comforts. However, the day came when Graviir had to return to his studies and Kurt became the primary trainer for Marquis and Constantin, leaving whatever had been between Kurt and Graviir to die. 

This plays a big role in the events after the coup as well, and why Graviir spirals out of control after having watched Marquis try to spare the soldier only for him to take his own life. While yes, he’s incredibly hurt by the events of the coup, and upset he hand’t caught on to what was going on with Kurt, there’s a jealousy that Graviir has because he sees that Kurt has finally obtained peace in death and Grav wants that too. 

32. If your character’s lover offered to take them out on a dream date, what would they want to do? 

As far as Graviir is concerned, there’s no such thing as a proper lover or a dream date. At least, that’s what he believed until he saw how much Marquis and Vasco cared about one another. Love may work for some, but he believes there’s no one for him and he doubts he’d be able to show anyone the kind of affection they deserve. 

  50. If your character confessed love to their crush, boyfriend, girlfriend, etc, what would they say?

He wouldn’t. Even IF he did fall and feel deeply for someone, he wouldn’t put them through that, and he wouldn’t want them to think he was being desperate. Marquis and Vasco are beautiful together, but he wouldn’t even know how to go about dropping his guard to try and let anyone close let alone be what they need. 

@the-cowboy-druid Thank you for sending angst prompts!

[royallytwistednauts-blog]

Thoughts swam through Graviir’s mind, the drink doing little to quell them, to quiet them. The out he so desperately seemed to want beckoning him like the fabled sirens of the deep. “Swim out to us. Live and die with us.” He could only promise them silently that he was coming, that he was merely enjoying a final drink instead of a meal before he would go out to meet them. Though in retrospect, he had to ask himself why he was delaying the inevitable? Sure, some might miss him. More than likely, Constantin and Marquis for sure, but they had one another and Marquis had Vasco... There was no need for the older De Sardet. No need for extra muscle. Not to mention with the stunt the coin guard pulled, people were going to be far more weary of that muscle now than ever. Graviir figured there was never truly a place for him to begin with, why would he ever find one now.

The tavern had returned to a low murmur now that he had a few drinks in him and they were sure he didn’t come in to start something, perhaps add their own blood to those of the guard that stained him now. He scratched absentmindedly at the birthmark on his cheek, just another torturous reminder that would leave this world with him. It would be the first to go, the mark, then himself. Hell, maybe two birds, one stone? The thought almost made him smirk. Almost. A blood covered madman, that’s the last thing the locals needed to see. 

People came and went, so he didn’t even notice when another person joined the sounds and smells the tavern provided and he would have happily went on not caring until eyes lingered on his form just a little longer then he would’ve liked and he felt himself shrinking as far back into the corner as he could. 

“De Sardet.”

The name made him flinch and he mentally cursed himself for doing so. He wasn’t thee De Sardet. That was Marquis, his brother and very few people called Graviir that name anymore, if at all. Eyes quickly cast over the new comer who dared approach him, and in such a state. “Noble.” He thought, and had far less interest in the being before him than he did mere moments ago. Even as he ignored him, he seemed to stay, and to even take t upon himself to join the blood soaked man. If people weren’t talking already, they would be before too long. 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you have a death wish.” His voice was hoarse, between not speaking, holding his emotions back and the burn of the drink that he quickly added too as he polished off another mug in lieu of acknowledging the tissue that had been lain before him. In reality, it was a nice gesture, even if it would do little against the mess, but Graviir wasn’t in the habit of being polite unless he had to be and of all days. today had to be absolutely the worst.

Then the stranger was asking another question, one more in a line of things that seemed to catch the usual stone cold man off guard and all he could do was sigh deeply and slightly lean forward so that his eyes could level with the others. “You know who I am, and I have no doubt you know what has transpired... “ He trailed off, gesturing slightly to the room around them. The Coup was no secret and he doubted and of what happened behind the doors of the palace had remained a secret as well. He also took the moment to find his words, clearly the noble wasn’t going to go anywhere without a fight else he would have been warded off by Graviir’s appearance just like the rest of them had been. Not that it seemed the stranger would hold up well in a fight, but perhaps there was more magic than melee involved... 

Alas, there were no more words, and Graviir could only shake his head and sigh once more. “There is nothing you or anyone else can do. What’s happened has happened and steps have already been taken and decided in what comes next.” He could only hope that was enough for the stranger as he got to his feet and moved to leave before stopping once more. “You, especially as a noble, shouldn’t waste your time, or your things-” He nodded towards the still clean tissue. “ -on someone like me.” With that, he set off, striding outside the tavern and hoping the nobleman would stay put. 

“With the sun setting and shadows quickly growing across New Serene, Graviir felt hidden. It would be harder to see blood in the dark and harder to find a man who didn’t want to be found. He made his way towards the less occupied end of the docks, another go to place for drunks and those down on their luck. He knew he could slip away there. He slid a dagger out from beneath his sleeve, let the weight of it in his hand be a small comfort, the setting sun counting down the last of the day, the last of what would be considered his life.

“Fuck it.” He grumbled, rounding a corner into an alley alongside the docks and took a deep breath as he leaned against a wall and ran the blade through his birthmark. It wasn’t deep enough to kill, not yet, but that didn’t stopped the gurgled cry that escaped his lips, nor did it keep him from moving forward to a better hiding spot - his own blood now mingling with that of the guards he’d taken down in the coup. 

[royallytwistednauts-blog]

@reaper-code

If it wasn’t one thing, it was another and while Graviir wouldn’t normally care, the scale of everything that had just happened, was massive. It should have just been another day of reporting into Constantin... Marquis had noticed something was wrong awhile back and while Constantin had brushed it off, assured them he was adjusting to the new settings and local cuisine, it seemed to grow worse with every visit. And now, it was had become the worst. 

“The fucking Malichor.” Was all he could mumble beneath his breath as they all saw the contents of the vial the crow held up before the light emanating from the window. Marquis sounding so desperate in thinking that it could be a mistake - Constantine briefly losing it as his cousin tried to console him. Vasco and Siora stood at the back of the room, waiting to be able to rejoin the three of them - and soon they did as Constantin calmed down and wanted something else to focus his mind on. 

It was a brief moment of peace of peace, the lot of them ready to get on with what they had originally set out to do when Kurt burst through the door. Graviir nearly found his own moment of relief as his old friend walked in, but something was off- Everything from his outfit to the lack of eye contact... Then the soldiers followed in. Siora was cornered, Vasco made a move and the butt of a gun connected with his head and he went down. Graviir too made to move but Kurt was already signaling to raise guns and Constantin’s voice broke through the haze that was quickly settling over his mind. 

“Kurt, what is the meaning of this?!”

But he didn’t reply, all Graviir could here was ‘Ready’ and “Aim.”

“Kurt, whatever’s going on, this isn’t the answer!”

Words found him before thoughts did. This wasn’t Kurt, this was someone else and even with everything Graviir and Kurt had been through--

“Fight with honor!”

Marquis growled, and Graviir shot him a look. Sure, Marquis could hold his own-- But it wasn’t fear for Marquis that suddenly made his chest ache. Swords were drawn and the two danced around the room, everyone on edge. Graviir could only think that it should have been him taking on Kurt. Not Marquis. Not as his brother or the Legate, or Constantin’s dear cousin. There was too much to lose in this. 

A mistake was made, brief, but Graviir had seen it as Marquis moved behind Kurt and held the blade at the man’s throat. His own breath hitched, he knew what would come next, what had to come next. 

Just like that, Marquis backed off, as if giving Kurt once last chance. Words were exchanged, something about a coup, words of being proud-

“Kurt! No don-!”

Graviir saw it coming before they did, they heard the shot, but Grav felt it, deep in his bones. The soldiers were dropping their weapons and backing away, Marquis was turning on the group, shouting plans and all Graviir could do was drop beside Kurt’s body, watch as blood flowed and pooled around his head. “I should’ve been there, should have kept a better eye-”

“We can mourn later.” Vasco whispered, a hand on the man’s shoulder. He didn’t know Kurt or Graviir as well as he knew Marquis, and as much as Graviir wanted to throw him aside, to get angry and kill everyone in his path, another thought had taken over him, but it would have to wait. They needed to handle the conspirators of the Coup first. 

***

The lieutenants had been captured, Torsten had gotten away and one of the two allied cities had been saved as well, for the moment, it was over. Constantine and his entourage was safe, and before long, He, Marquis and the others would be making plans to free the third city. Finally, the last of the information had been delivered... Marquis and Graviir were born on the island. The news had his Marquis hard, and it wasn’t until now Graviir was truly processing it. He left them.

Drink was the only thing on his mind. He cared not that he was covered in blood or that every bit of him ached in ways he couldn’t completely comprehend. It was a bad dream, a nightmare that needed to end. Would end. Kurt wasn’t the only one who was going to get to be free from their lifelong torments and pain. 

He ordered a drink, paid to keep the bottle and plopped down in the furthest corner he could find. For the moment, all eyes were on him. Good thing he wasn’t a Legate, this would look bad. But he was the muscle, he always had been. Had the scars to prove it and now he’d drink then find a way to end it. 

[voiceofnature]

fellandfair: Ranger Faction

[disneyadaptations]

The true design of this world is revealed, when in times of hardship and tragedy, kindness and compassion are shown to those in need.

[maurawrites]

Sam Claflin as William in ‘Snow White and the Huntsman’

[royallytwistednauts-blog]

Graviir Headcanons (other):

Graviir is the kind of idiot who would grab your blade if you were pointing it at him threateningly. Either swing or put it away, other wise he’s taking it and wont give a fuck about his newly sliced hand. 

He can drink with the best of them doesn’t matter if its beer or cheap whiskey. However, he does prefer bourbon, one of the few finer things he will spend his coin on and something he brought with him from growing up in royalty.

He doesn’t have a sweet tooth. He prefers salty or spicy and of course, a good strong drink to wash it down.

He fights with axes and normally has three of them. One great big one and two smaller for closer combat and or so he can throw them.He’s older than Marquis by a few years and was never upset when the man was brought as a boy to live and be raised beside him. He cares for him, just as he does Constantin. Though he’ll never admit it.

He HATES the mark on his face. Marquis adapted to it, hid his displeasure and quit shying away from unwanted stares and questions while Graviir preferred to try and grow a beard over it after starting one too many fights. Later, after Kurt’s death, the hate grows worse and he actually maims himself in trying to remove it.

He wanted to die after Kurt killed himself. He’ll never understand why Marquis didn’t finish him off. He should never have had the chance to give up. But then, Marquis hadn’t known Kurt like Graviir had.

(Completely self indulgent) Graviir had a fling with Kurt. It became something to pass the time, more so after periods of restlessness or when things went bad in the guard barracks/ palace.

[royallytwistednauts-blog]

Graviir de Sardet Headcanons:

Graviir, scorned over the impending death of his mother, tired of being in the shadow of the palace, annoyed by the fact that it seems he’s still not more than a child and having Kurt still being attached to him as a body guard has made him more than sour. 

Graviir is low key scared of the fact he’s bound to teer fradee but he wont admit it. He’d rather claim he’s going to burn the damn island to the ground before he lets it happen.

At some point, in some fit of drunken rage, an upset Graviir attempts to remove the native marking on his face. More than likely he uses a smaller blade and is very unsuccessful. He not only continues to have the mark but he’s now got scars in addition to it. Both markings he attempts to hide by growing and keeping his beard as he does.

Graviir hates being soft and showing that he cares. It’s rare!

Graviir also hates Constantin’s father, and gods forbid he ever goes back to the continent because he would run a blade through that man so fast… and happily leave him dying in a pool of his own blood on the palace floor and not give a single fuck that he did.

[assassintine]

Random tidbits I've learned about my OCs thus far...

Graviir is 6'2

Marquis is 5'6

Arno is somewhere in the middle but refuses to take his boots off to be heightened properly.

Marquis is an archer and it's scary how good he is but it's something he hides...

Graviir is covered in scars while Arno is covered in tattoos.

Marquis and Arno are both pretty easy going. Don't piss them off though. While they have a semblance of control, Graviir does not.

Marquis will fight you to the death without question. He prefers other options if they are there but if you're deserving he will kill without holding back.

Arno fights like he has nothing to lose. It always seems to be do or die on the seas, why would land be any different.

Marquis has basic healing magic.

Graviir eventually can manipulate fire (cause I'm a sucker for such things and a wee be disappointed the game didnt offer it).

[assassintine]

My thoughts on the “good ending” in Greedfall. I’ve got a few and I dont really think I’ve expressed them and since @a-driftamongopenstars posed their own questions about it I thought maybe I’d try to put my own thoughts/ ideas down…

Keep reading

[assassintine]

Witcher! Graviir de Sardet aesthetic.

[assassintine]

*points a marble rifle at you* tell all about your De Sardets

(Throws hands up in surrender) Hooooooo boy luv, talk about putting me on the spot!

There are three of them… Marquis, who is my original DS is exactly the poised Legate he is supposed to be. He fell in love with Vasco, helped the various peoples of the island and saved Teer Fradee (I’m so sorry Constantin). He’d rather be a lover than a fighter but considers himself both and would do any and everything for the people he cares about, even if it means putting himself at risk in some form or the other.

Evelyn is a graceful as she is deadly and has no problems making the hard decisions. She would be the first to volunteer for a suicide mission then be annoyed because it wasnt much of a challenge after all. When she loves, she loves fiercely and will protect that love with everything she is. (Yes, she romanced Kurt). She’s also intelligent and would love nothing more than to spend time with Siora and Aphra as they study plants, animals and make potions together.

Finally, there’s Graviir the bastard… and that should say it all. He’s cold, calculating and would kill you for looking at him wrong. There IS a soft spot to him if it can be found, but the right thing or person hasn’t come along yet… He and the other DS’ do not get along, but after the events with Constantin he has no problem hunting down his father and any others who lied and helped make their lives miserable when they were.

Annnnnd I think that wraps it up..? Graviir is a major work in progress who I have minor AUs for but don’t quite fit into the above…