Giving you another fun fact about Connor because I'm thinking aboutchim now thanks Fig
Connor is unaware of who has become heroes. His sword was only the last for him, so anyone that managed to pass The Venomshank and collect it, he doesn't know how far they went. Some of the other heroes have some ideas (they aren't always correct, Amairah thinks Nova died after her sword, Connor doesn't believe Mora made it past the sword she went after after his, and Michael thinks Jackson dead after what xey gave up for The Ghostwalker. But sometimes they are right: Amairah thinks Jackson did make it, Nova had full belief in Michael, and Mora just had a feeling for who would end up going through with doing what the heroes have done [she won't tell them what she thinks will happen to them, but she's fairly correct in her guesses]). Connor being the first hero meant he's seen so. Many. Faces. Many went into the sword realm and never came back, some came back but died later on. He isn't sure about those who collect the sword and move on.
This was supposed to be a small fun fact WHY was it so long sorry Fig oops
Dawg what the HELL are you putting Connor through...... Amairah believing in Jackson is actually a little sweetful <- I don't have. Enough context as to if Amairah just believed in xeir abilities or was. Hoping. BUT HOORAY JACKSON 💥💥
I'm. A little scared to imagine. How low the odds are of making through the sword realms..... :( damn being the first is so. Lonely...
idk if this is coherent or not but! i wrote a thing for the first time in ages!! and w/ new ocs as well
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CN: seizure-like episode, suspicious caretaking
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The first sign was a wave of dizziness. Vaquin had learned to recognise it, along with the shiver that made him drop his screwdriver. He had enough time to move from the chair to the floor before the shiver became a tremble and then a profound, bone-deep cold, as if he'd plunged into icy water. Air escaped him on a shudder. He knew it was the last comfortable breath he would take for a while.
Then, just like in water, his lungs began to burn. His hands wandered to his chest, fingers flexing and curling above where pressure was building against his sternum. A gasp filled his chest with fire. He had to lock his teeth to stifle a groan.
It felt like his heart would bruise. An awful weight sat in his ribcage now, threatening to burst out right through the bones and every breath burned. Vaquin curled in on himself, trembling. His skin crawled now, as if the world itself was constricting around him. He forced air into his lungs, fighting the corrosive pain. In, out. His ribs ached and his throat was closing. In, out. It felt like it would kill him, like his body would choose to escape the agony of breathing and just let him suffocate.
It never did.
The pressure gave first, dissolving into a choppy, breakneck heartbeat. Vaquin choked on air and a coughing fit seized his body like a fist. His vision returned; he didn't realize it had gone. A long, wheezing breath forced its way through the grip on his throat. Pain bloomed in his chest again but this time it faded, making way for the hollow, lingering ache he knew so well. Panting, he forced his limbs to uncoil. There were red spots on his shirt and his mask had shifted up.
Slowly, his breathing evened out. Every deep inhale brought less pain and finally, he steadied the exhales as well.
His head lolled to rest against the leg of his desk. Everything around him spun and he felt like he'd skipped two nights of sleep. Eyes closed, he relished in the relief that the ringing silence brought.
He was lucky again, to have this happen away from the others. They would ask questions, each in their own way, and he could only lie to them for so long.
Worse yet, he wasn't sure if he wouldn't just tell them the truth.
A soft rustle alerted him to the presence before he felt a hand on his shoulder. The touch was as cold as ever but still he found it calming.
“You're okay,” said Kentrra.
Vaquin let her help him up, wiped the blood from his nose with the towel she gave him. As she guided him to his cot, she searched his face with her glowing blue eyes. He could feel her gaze even through the mask.
“We're so close now,” she said gently. Vaquin nodded, not trusting his voice just yet. She was right, of course.
“Don't falter now.”
He shook his head. He wanted to sink into the mattress and sleep for days, but Kentrra's hands were cool on his shoulders, thumbs on the clavicles, and her eyes were sparkling like current.
“You know this is necessary,” she said.
He nodded again. Her eyes glowed brighter and brighter until he gathered enough strength and responded:
They call him Vaquin which is not his name but he doesn't remember what it's supposed to be so he doesn't mind. He crash-landed on a hostile, oceanic planet and that was when he lost his memory (he thinks. He's wrong.) He carries on surviving for what he thinks is weeks (it's hard to keep track. He's wrong.) with the help of some people who might not be fully honest but he can tell they mean well (he's wrong) until another group of randos crashes on that same planet. Things get confusing from there.
He wears the helmet most of the time bc he hates the sight of his own face, for reasons he doesn't fully understand and refuses to talk about.
