Doing Cera's separately because it got a little long. The Dice Chose: 🧑🤝🧑 - Do they have any siblings?
"I don't believe it," The words fell from her lips like thorns, or frogs, or some other devilish spell sent to haunt her for past sins. How many nights had she lain awake as a child, imagining this day, polishing the fantasy of it until it shone brightly against the dark canopy of sleep? Too many, and though she had long outgrown the notion of reality matching the story she'd told herself Cera was still rendered nearly speechless by how utterly and unkindly the truth had shattered her illusions of who and what her father might be.
"What?" The man drawled with a laugh. "Don't believe your old mum would know an old scoundrel like me? I remember meeting her, clear as yesterday. You sound just like her, singing that same tune. She teach you that one? She used to sing it to me, after we--"
"Jephaud," the woman at his side hissed, tugging at his arm. "Jeph, just shut up a span, for Gods' sake."
Jeph, to everyone's relief, shut up at his wife's scolding, though his mouth flopped open like a fish as his wine-glazed eyes tried in vain to figure out what had earned him the rebuke. As he struggled to catch up to where everyone else had been for a quarter turn his wife wiped her hand on her skirt and then held it out to Cerathil with a smile stiffened by the tense awkwardness of the moment.
"Rosalie Pamplamoose, pleasure meeting you, Miss Volfortain," as soon as she released Cera's hand Rosalie hefted the child higher on her hip, the boy's blue-black hair falling in a wavy mop over his eyes. "This is Henrie, that's Neddie, and over there is Valencia." The girl, older than her brothers by an epoch at least, stared back at Cera with the same wide-eyed wonder that Cera had seen on her own face dozens of times. It was strange, if not for the dimple in the girl's chin she might have believed someone had conjured her reflection from her own awkward youth.
"Jeph always told stories about his time in Ishgard as a young thing, and knowing him-- well I can't say I'm surprised. You ain't the first one to turn up, you know. You've got another sister down East, and a brother that lives in the city proper. Though I dare well say you might be the oldest of the lot." Rosalie had kept going and Cera wrenched her thoughts back to the present. With phenomenal effort she pushed the feelings of shock and dismay aside, pulling back up the carefully crafted wall of polite decorum and stiff ishgardian formality.
"I'm quite sure none of us expected this twist," Cera forced a thin smile onto her face as she looked at her half-siblings again. "But I'm ever so glad to get to meet you all. Perhaps we could have something of a family supper and get to know one another?" With that she glanced at the bewildered look on her father's face as it shifted and then settled into a suddenly sober realization.
"Seven hells, not another one."
Cera has five half-siblings that she didn't meet until she was in her mid-twenties and finally tracked her dad down. Her mom had told her an absolutely WILD pack of lies with just enough truth that Cera's dogged persistence in looking for him finally paid off. Not remotely the way she expected, but she actually gets along well with his wife and her younger siblings. So that's something. She has not met her other sister yet, but maybe one day!
Thanks for the ask, @yloiseconeillants! Ask answer part 2 coming soon!
Alias/Nicknames: Cera (nickname), Songbird (what Lou calls her), Mouillé de Portee (stage name when performing bawdy songs in shitty Limsan bars)
Gender: Female
Age: 38
Zodiac: Menphina - Ice (Aquarius)
Abilities/Talents: Entertainment in General | Singing | Playing the Violin or Fiddle | Getting People to Talk More Than They Should | Choosing a Good Wine | Negotiating Terms | Making People Uncomfortable in a Really Polite Way | Trick Shot Archery | Knife Work but Not the Kitchen Kind | Acrobatics | Sleight of Hand | Ventriloquism | Poetry Recital | Performing Epic Poems or Long Structured Ballads of a Historical Nature | Performing Dirty Songs while Undercover | Flirting | Winding her Wife Up | Being in Fucking Charge |
Alignment: lawful / neutral / chaotic / good / neutral / evil / true
Religion: Cera grew up worshiping Halone, but these days that’s mostly lip-service as she’s found a much stronger connection to Oshcon and Llymlaen in the last decade.
Sins: envy / greed / gluttony / lust / pride / sloth / wrath
Despite her current lifestyle underscoring more of her pridefulness and flaunting her sexuality Cera’s primary sin would be wrath. Not really because she gets angry frequently, but because of how far she’s willing to go to satisfy those wrathful feelings.
Virtues: charity /chastity / diligence / humility / justice / kindness / patience
Cera considers herself extremely kind and charitable but is also a fucking huge troll and she often enjoys doing a favor or providing charity alongside some sort of embarrassment for her own amusement. So whether or not her actions are taken as kindness by her targets could certainly be up for debate.
Languages: Common, Elezen, Old Elezen (partially)
Family: Mhaelou Dhemoenwyn (wife), Marin Volfortain (aunt / adoptive mother)
Friends: T’sviah Luhn (BFF), Cyril Glautine, K'vhori Zhil, Jenny Brawl, Guolbenn Wyzenfolgsyn, Orrie Muifaux, Saoirse Lyons, Lirene Harte
Sexuality: heterosexual / bisexual / pansexual / homosexual / demisexual / asexual / unsure / other
Relationship Status: single/ partnered / married / widowed / open relationship / divorced / not ready for dating yet / it’s complicated
Cera was briefly married to a fellow temple knight when she was in her early 20’s, but it ended badly. She and Lou have been married for almost a decade now, accommodating Cera’s frequent work related travel by ostensibly maintaining an open relationship while they’re apart. Neither Cera nor Lou have realized that they’ve both completely avoided taking advantage of this arrangement because they’re absolute idiots for each other.
Libido: sex god / very high / high / average / low / very low / non-existent
Build: slender / average / athletic / muscular / curvy / other
Hair: white / blonde / brunette / pink / red / black / other (blue)
Eyes: brown / blue / gray / green / black / other (silver)
Skin: pale/ fair / olive / light brown / brown / dark / other
Height: 78.1 ilms (6’ 6”)
Scars: Burn scars along her left hip and side.
dogs or cats || birds or bugs || snakes or spiders || coffee or tea || ice cream or cake || fruits or vegetables || sandwich or soup || magic or melee || sword shield dagger or bow || summer or winter || spring or autumn || past or future
A few songs that remind you of them:
Ocean - Devon Baldwin
Wild Things - Ladyhawke
Song of the Caged Bird - Lindsey Stirling
Arm’s Length - Kacy Hill
Tagged by: @luck-and-larceny - Thank you!
Tagging: Anyone who wants to do it and also @porxienapper specifically for Lou!
A story from back when Cerathil and Mhaelou were still very young and very stupid about their affection for each other. Mhaelou written by the wonderful @porxienapper.
The Black Shroud
5th Umbral Moon, 1568
The rhythmic call and response of the sailors and dock hands had distracted Cerathil from the letter she had begun reading some half an hour ago, and by the time the cargo had been safely hoisted from the dock and lowered into the ship's hold her mind had been thoroughly wrenched from the dry missive from her masters in far away Ishgard. Instead she was drawn to more immediate concerns as she looked down from her seat along the highcastle’s tall railings.
Among the sailors now milling around, dragging the heavy ropes and thick block-and-tackles back into the ship’s hold was her duet partner. The tall Roegadyn woman cut a handsome figure in her work clothes, and Cerathil found herself once again distracted by the way the woman’s arms flexed as she rolled the coil of rope back up with the practiced movements of a lifelong sailor. Despite the fact that the regular confines of the ship left little space to avoid anyone in particular, Cera couldn’t shake the feeling that Mhaelou had been dodging her since their drunken game of storytelling and gossip with T’svaih the week before. Or, perhaps it wasn’t that the woman was avoiding her, that was nearly impossible, but that the flirtatious banter they’d enjoyed all these months had suddenly fallen to the wayside. Why?
That question itched at the back of Cerathil's mind as she watched the crew below finish settling the Lovely Spriggan’s final supply run of the year. In a little less than a month they’d conclude their tour of the Lavender Beds and break for the winter season. Cerathil could feel the change in the fall air already, as many of the crew braced themselves for a shift in the dynamic of the boat. Many would stay on, but she and Mhaelou and T’svaih had already made plans to go their separate ways, as had many of the other performers that had been hired on for the year. This final supply stop at a sleepy little farming port was more than just a chance to stock up on apples and barrels of pickled vegetables, it was one last chance for the performers to rest and adjust their acts before their cycle of performances and sailing began again. A number of the performers, including herself, had taken rooms at the shabby inn by the docks. It was little more than a tap room with a few rough bedrooms above it, but it wasn’t a hammock in a swaying hold and that was something Cera was looking forward to enjoying before committing to another month on the water.
That seemed to settle something, and in a moment Cera had stood, tucking the letter away within her songbook. She leaned down over the railing, her dark hair catching the sun and flashing a brilliant blue in the afternoon light as she raised her voice, “Dhemoenwyn, if you’re quite finished I have an idea for our next show I’d like to discuss.”
Mhaelou raised her gaze, shielding her bright blue-green eyes from the sun as she looked up toward Cerathil's perch. She had known the elezen was there, of course; that was the reason she'd made herself so readily available to help with the rigging. But the woman's use of her last name was curious. With rare exception, Cera only seemed to do that when she needed something from her. Lou flashed the woman a wide grin and waved a hand in acknowledgement. Her eyes lingered briefly on the tumble of Cera's dark hair before she turned back to finish what she was doing, tying off a coil of rope and looping it over a hook on the banister.
She took the stairs up to the highcastle two at a time, wiping the sweat off her brow with a rag as she sprang up to where Cerathil was waiting for her. "Hey, songbird," she said, favoring the woman with another crooked grin as she dropped heavily down on the floor and leaned back against the rail, taking the opportunity to rest and catch her breath. "This better not be about Nara doing a striptease again," she joked in a deadpan about her ursine co-star, turning her attention to folding the rag in her hands. "I refuse to submit the old gal to the leering of these lustful Gridanians." She glanced back up to Cerathil, pulling a small apple from her pocket and holding it between her teeth while she tucked away the folded rag.
"Ah, yes. Still trying to keep her all for yourself, I see," Cera smiled as she settled herself back down on the railing, crossing her long legs as she looked down at Mhaelou. "Lou," she dropped the joking air to her voice as she set her songbook in her lap, "Have I offended you?"
The uncommon directness of her question was not reflected in her relaxed posture as she sat on the rail looking down at the roegadyn. Only the way her fingers toyed with the bent edge of her songbook gave away any sense of nervous energy as she awaited the larger woman's response.
Lou's eyes widened at Cera's question and she stared at her in bewilderment. "No," she said easily, the reply somewhat muffled by the apple in her mouth. She finished tucking away her rag and then pulled the half-bitten fruit from between her teeth, her brow knit in confusion as she took in the woman's posture and the nervous attention she was paying to the edge of her songbook. "Why?"
"I'm glad," Cera seemed to relax slightly, "If a little confused." Her gaze lingered purposefully on Lou's face as she smiled with more of her usual easy warmth. "I had only noticed that you've been saving your flirtations for Nara alone, and I thought perhaps I'd upset you. I have grown accustomed to a certain level of attention and found myself wanting too often this past week. Have you and the bear made things official? Or have I made myself unworthy in some other way?"
As she spoke she shifted her skirt slightly, so it bunched around her crossed knees, exposing the curve of her calves.
"Oh!" Lou said, her cheeks purpling as she dropped her gaze to the floor, laughing in spite of herself at Cera's joke. "That. Yeah. Ah..." She reached up with her free hand and rubbed the back of her neck, her expression abashed as her gaze traveled back up toward the elezen, wandering rakishly over the curve of the woman's legs on its way. "No, it's nothing you did. Uh, after our game with Svai last week, when I learned you'd had your marriage bust up, I got to thinking." Her eyes unfocused and she gestured with the apple as she began expounding on her inner dialog. "I've been making my interest known to this woman for months now, and she hasn't taken the bait. Not that I have any expectations -- I'd been assuming she just liked the sport of dragging it out, as I have. But after learning about that breakup... well."
Lou’s gaze focused back on Cera and she tapped the apple against her chin as she continued. "Guess I started wondering if maybe there was another reason she hadn't taken things further. That maybe she’s still recovering from all that and doesn’t want what I’m offering at all, and she just isn’t shutting me down out of... I don't know, pity or something. Then I started feeling a little guilty about being so forward." Pausing to take a breath, Lou pushed herself back up to her feet, bouncing the apple on her palm. "Well. Sounds kinda silly, now that I say it out loud." Hooking the thumb of her free hand behind her belt, she rested her hips back against the railing, giving Cera a shrug and a wry smirk, albeit with a hopeful glint in her eye.
Cera continued to fiddle with the edge of her songbook as she listened to Mhaelou’s reasoning, before at last laughing gently, “That’s actually quite sweet, Lou.” Despite her laugh her expression looked pinched as she stared off at the water beyond the starboard side of the ship. After a moment she sighed and looked back at the larger woman, “And a bit more perceptive than I suppose I had anticipated. Neither of your guesses are entirely wrong. I am still recovering, but I have also quite enjoyed our sport. Had I not then I would have made that clear far earlier.”
A warm smile spread across her face at last, then curved into a grin as she tilted her head and wrapped her slim hands around her knees, “I suppose I also worried that if I gave in too soon and things did not go well our act would be compromised. Which I admit I am far less concerned over now that the show is coming to a close.” She returned the roegadyn’s shrug and stared up at her, “So as long as you’re not looking for a quick engagement I suppose I could see myself wrestling you away from Nara’s clutches for a night. If you’re still willing.”
Lou raised her eyebrows. “Could you, now?” she laughed, pushing off from the railing and strolling closer to where Cera was perched. “My, my. If I had known you were so interested in spending the night with big hairy animals, I would have offered to share Nara with you much sooner.” She took a bite of the apple then, pausing to chew as she looked off over the water in the direction Cera had been staring moments before. “Seems like we were both overthinking things,” she said, turning her eyes back to the elezen as she drifted closer to where she was sitting, pressing a few more steps into the woman’s personal space than she typically did and lowering her voice. “But if you’re game, then you know I am as well. So,” she drew the word out, bouncing the apple on her palm again, her eyes fixed on Cera’s face as she hovered over her, “what would you say if I offered to buy us some drinks tonight?”
As Lou drifted into her space Cerathil bounced one foot in amusement, then stood fluidly. With one swift movement she snatched the apple out of the air before it hit Mhaelou’s palm and brought it to her own lips, taking a small bite out of it before stepping back again.
“Mmm,” she hummed around her bite of apple, making a show of chewing and thinking it over before finally responding. “I’d say that sounds lovely, though…” she tapped the apple against her bottom lip and took a step forward, a playful smile creasing her face, “you do know it’s not Nara I’m interested in? Just so we’re perfectly clear, I expect you to show up for drinks smelling like something other than musky bear and fish guts if you want to get into my bed.” With that she took a step away and tossed the apple back to Mhaelou, a wide grin spreading across her face.
Mhaelou caught the apple with the hand that was still upraised from missing its landing earlier. Her eyes hadn’t strayed from Cera since the woman had slipped off the railing. Even now, as the elezen stepped away, Lou drifted slowly toward her again, as if pulled magnetically toward her presence. “Ah, that’s just fine,” she said with a wicked grin. “I have so many perfumes at my disposal. Will it be sweat and river muck tonight? Maybe add a dash of stale tobacco.” A call from the main deck caught Lou’s attention, and she peeled her gaze away from Cerathil with great reluctance to see what was afoot. “Seems I’m needed elsewhere. Better get hopping if I’m to bathe before dinner.” Rolling the apple between her palms, she turned back to the bard, eyes sparkling as they roamed over the woman’s body. “I’ll find you later, then. Don’t skip town on me, will you?” Flashing Cera another broad grin, Lou took another bite of apple and started backing toward the railing.
“Room’s already paid for,” Cera grinned as she watched the roegadyn go, her gaze lingering over the woman’s shoulders and arms once again. “I’ll wait for you at the inn. Seventh bell. Don’t make me start drinking without you.”
“And miss out on what passes for liquor in this backwater?” Lou laughed, hucking the remains of her apple overboard. “Not on your life. See you at seventh.” Giving Cerathil a casual salute and a wink, Lou vaulted over the railing and was gone.
