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Masvari’s solid golden eyes are more than just pretty, they’re also useful ;)
Meme redraw arising from a discussion of character designs LOL Masvari does actually have pupils, but they’re only faintly darker than the rest of her eye, and like cat’s eyes they’re slitted so you probably wouldn’t see them unless she’s really, really interested.
Masvari belongs to @pianissimoe!
everything was just easier when she was in the circus and knew who she was and knew what she wanted out of life! everything’s been upended and she’s still finding her footing and she just. doesn’t know anymore. she doesn’t want to talk about it because it’s hard to articulate but also, she knows the rest of her friends are going through much worse things than her crisis of self, so
masvari thoughts under the cut because a lot is going on in this girl’s life and i just need to. think about it. i need to organize my thoughts.
okay so. about a year ago in-campaign, she was a circus performer and happy and never really considered doing anything else with her life? performing was her passion, she loved the other members of her circus, she never wanted to be anywhere else!
and then her mentor/adoptive father died, and she left her troupe on bad terms.
and it’s been hectic, since then. she spent a while seeking out her father’s older brother, just seeking family and connection. she almost helped out with a kidnapping, which she later discovered would have been a spectacularly bad idea. she was robbed. she became an apprentice/assistant at her kind of uncle’s glassblowing shop and then became an adventurer and made new friends.
she has some importance to the luxon and the kryn that she doesn’t fully understand.
she found out the people closest to her lied to her for years. was attacked and nearly had her friends killed by a person she loved and cared for.
went to the faewild, not for the first time. had the memories OF her first time in the faewild restored and they’re Bad.
it’s. a lot has happened and i just think. she’s having such a crisis of self because she doesn’t know who she is anymore or where she’s going or what she’s meant to do. she feels like she’s aimlessly drifting, like she’s supposed to do something important but cannot for the life of her figure out what, and everywhere she goes to try and help, she just makes things infinitely worse.
she’s just lost and confused, shouldered with responsibility that she isn’t used to, crying out for purpose or guidance and the universe is silent. she doesn’t understand herself anymore, who she is or where she’s meant to be.
she doesn’t know how to articulate any of it, so she just spirals into self doubt.
posts this on tumblr as well because why not.
imagine telling your crush that you have a crush on them and they just say ‘sorry’
a very tender piece of writing that i’m kind of proud of? masvari gets to be held by her crush and has an absolutely normal time about it
Masvari has always had an infatuation with great heights.
As a child, she had broken more bones than one falling out of trees that she had climbed just a little too high. As an adolescent, she took to the high wire like a duck to water -- climbing up to the highest point in the big top only to fall again and again. The trapeze became one of her great loves, nothing could ever compare to the feeling of flying through the air. It was exhilarating. She never feared falling, because she knew she would always be safe.
Even now, even without a net to catch her, she's always found falling to be more thrilling than frightening.
The rafters of the inn are no great height, even to a tiny little rat, and so Masvari thinks nothing of jumping from the beam to the floor after her (admittedly useless) investigation.
She lands. She dispels polymorph without a thought, and suddenly, what little information she'd gathered is gone from her mind.
Suddenly, nothing exists beyond Janos and herself.
Suddenly, the only thing Masvari can focus on is the feeling of their arms around her -- strong and secure and warm. They hold her so effortlessly and she has to wonder if she even weighs anything to them, if lifting her is easier than lifting their kanabo. They hold her and she feels such comfort and safety that she regrets ever asking them to carry her on their back, if this were an option. By the gods, she never wants to be put down again.
She's close enough that she could count their freckles if she wanted to. She would never say it out loud -- too afraid that her words would come off as condescending at best and outright insulting at worst -- but she's always found their freckles to be endearing. Cute, even. Spread across their skin like constellations, adding a sense of youthfulness to Janos's typically stoic features. They make her wonder about their childhood; she knows so little of Rotthold and none of it good, but she hopes, desperately hopes, that their freckles are the result of carefree days spent playing in the sun, like her own.
She wonders if they would have been friends.
Her mind wanders with her gaze. The passage of time is a distant thought and she can't bring herself to care, much less give any attention to, the other members of their party. She's too busy thinking about the vibrant color of their skin, putting even the most breathtaking sunset to shame. The gold of their eyes -- so similar to her own but just a shade darker, and all the lovelier for it -- framed so perfectly by long, dark lashes.
Her eyes fall to the new scars on their face -- cutting a jagged line across their features and over their lips -- and she swallows down the lump in her throat. Her guilt has been too much for her to acknowledge them; Masvari has tried so hard since they left Zadash to avoid looking at Janos's scars, to maintain eye contact and fix her gaze anywhere else for fear of facing all of her failures.
They're so close now that she doesn't have that option.
Without a second thought -- without a first thought, truly -- she raises a hand brings it towards their face, so painfully slow. She pauses before any contact is made, meeting their gaze and looking for any indication that this wasn't okay -- a shake of the head, a flinch, something in their eyes -- but she doesn't find anything. Hesitantly, biting down on her lip a little too hard, Masvari cups their cheek in her palm. Her thumb runs gently over the longest of their scars, more curious than anything.
She hates that the scars are there, but she's so glad Janos is back and they're safe. Little victories, she supposes.
"Um...Janos--" before Masvari can finish her thought, there's a knock at the door and she's once again aware of the world at large. Her heart races, heat and color flood her face as she scrambles to get to her feet again. She very carefully avoids looking at Sikkuhl or Celeste as she all but sprints for the door, desperate for any kind of distraction -- if not for herself, then simply to keep from being asked about what had just happened.
She opens the door just wide enough to stick her head out and cranes her neck to look at their unexpected visitor. "Can I help you?"
following a fight in which a child masvari loved and cared for before leaving the circus turned out to be a vampire and tried to kill her and her friends for daring to question what happened to her father.
”Nothing you’ve done could ever make me hate you.”
She had said it and, in the moment, she’d meant it. Looking into Pruula’s eyes, seeing her expression -- terrified and guilty, awaiting some kind of judgement -- Masvari could not imagine being angry with her. Not for Nimbas’s death, not for any of the horrors and hardships she and her friends had endured since arriving here. Not for any of it. Her heart is endlessly overflowing with love and she could not, for an instant, imagine feeling any amount of anger or animosity towards Pruula and Tambourine.
But the journey from Trostenwald to Zadash is a long one, and it gives her more time to think on things than she would really like.
While lying awake one night, she remembers the night she left the circus.
She remembers pacing the floor of the big top, frantic, crying, breathing heavily, trying to control her rage and her frustration. Everyone else was there, standing by quietly, watching, wanting to calm her but unsure of how to do so. Senna, the cook, the strong-woman, tried her best to console Masvari. Told her that it was a tragedy, that Nimbas’s loss would be felt but that they should not let it break them, consume them.
Masvari had snapped. It wasn’t an accident. The way the nets fell away beneath him as he fell wasn’t natural, they weren’t secured correctly -- she knows they weren’t secured correctly. No one saw what she did, no one had the vantage point that she did.
They didn’t know, but they told her that wasn’t the case. She was imagining things in her grief, they had said. She just wanted someone to blame, they had said.
Ryleth would not meet her eye and Pruula told her there was no way it was anything but an accident.
Pruula, knowing full well that it was no accident, had looked her in the eyes and told her that it was.
And Masvari knows that her anger must have been frightening, that her dearest friend was afraid for that anger to be turned on her. Pruula must have thought that she would calm down, that she just needed time to grieve and everything would be alright. She couldn’t have anticipated that Masvari would run off in the middle of the night. She can hardly blame Pruula for not telling her in the moment.
But when Masvari returned -- calmer, no longer angry, wanting only to know for her own peace of mind and nothing more. Pruula continued to lie. She made Masvari promise to stop seeking answers about what happened to her father.
She thinks of the anger and betrayal on Pruula’s face, after it came to light that Masvari had lied about dropping her investigation. As though Pruula hadn’t been lying to her for years, as though Pruula hadn’t been lying to her still.
And she thinks of Tambourine, who attacked with such ferocity, who had shown Masvari and her friends no mercy, even after she’d made it clear she didn’t want to hurt the child. Even after she begged and pleaded, told her that she just wanted to know for her own sake and she would leave. Even after Haven tried so hard to be kind and gentle to her, to befriend her.
She thinks of her friends falling one by one in battle, of herself frozen in place, unable to lift a finger against this child that she once loved -- still loves. Of Janos, lifting their kanabo to strike their friends against their will, of teeth inching ever closer towards Haven’s neck.
Pruula had been willing to remove Masvari fully from her life to avoid telling her the truth. Tambourine had been willing to kill her and all of her friends to do the same.
And despite it all, Masvari still loves them so fully and so deeply, but she understands -- suddenly, completely -- that this love is not given to her in kind. She would do anything for them, and they would kill her without hesitation.
In the tiny hut, late at night, she watches her friends sleep. Friends who followed her into dangerous territory just for the promise of answers, friends who saved her on more than one occasion. She remembers being carried out of the crumbling city of Xagonstar on Janos’s back. She remembers Haven giving her one of his precious healing potions, just to get her back on her feet. She thinks of Sikkuhl, who uses magic to take some of the damage she incurs in battle onto himself. Celeste, who throws her all into every fight, heedless of the consequences.
She doesn’t hate Pruula, what Masvari had said as she left the circus is still true. But she understands now that the love she feels is not returned, that her oldest friend has such little regard for her feelings and her safety, regardless of what Pruula might tell herself.
It’s heartbreaking, but that her new friends treat her with such love and care eases that just a little bit.
pt. 2 of masvari getting attacked by other members of the party
Janos's strength never fails to impress.
It might seem so simple, but Masvari watches with awe as they lift and move and toss things with such ease. Nothing ever seems to be too much or too heavy, even their own party members. She remembers, through the haze of her exhaustion at the time, being lifted into their back and carried out of Xagonstar. The extra weight didn't seem to bother them at all.
She watches them in battle, the heavy swing of their kanabo, the crack of bones under it's force. They're a true force of nature, beautiful and powerful. She's glad to have their strength by her side.
---
She doesn't understand how things got to this point.
All Masvari had wanted were answers, to know for certain what happened to her mentor and father figure, not for retribution nor justice, but for her own peace of mind.
She's been met with hostility at every turn, secrets upon secrets. Pruula and Tambourine know something, but refuse to tell her. Would rather cut her from their lives entirely than tell her.
Would sooner kill her than tell her.
She feels...Frantic, and torn, watching her friends fight for their lives against Tambourine and her puppets, watching this child whom she loved and cared for not long ago attack with the intent to kill. Masvari doesn't want to fight her, doesn't want to hurt her, can't bring herself to direct any of her magic towards her. This is still Tambourine. She looks at the child, she remembers carrying her around when she was small, sleeping in a bed with her when she had a nightmare. Her heart breaks.
Things are getting dire. Tambourine flits around the battlefield, in and out of immediate range and she hits hard and she hits fast. She summons more puppets, Masvari shatters them apart as quick as she can. Tambourine turns Janos into a puppet, Masvari watches as they advance on Celeste. Her heart races in her chest, she knows she could free them if she attacks the child.
Still, she cannot do it.
She focuses back in on the puppets, on taking them out, on redirecting blows their blows to save her friends, on healing. She's getting tired, she can only cast so many more spells before she's drained.
She hears Celeste hit the ground.
She turns, she watches as Janos turns their attention from Celeste to herself. There is fear in their eyes. There is ice in her veins.
Masvari watches Janos walk towards her, she can see how much they don't want to be doing this. She doesn't want them to be doing this, either -- for fear of the pain, for fear of the guilt they'll feel after the fact. They're within striking distance and she turns to run. If she can just get out of the way, get out of range, she can figure out what to do and how to snap them out of it.
She watches them move, the heavy swing of their kanabo, the crack of bones under it's force. The crack of her own bones, her leg.
She cries out in pain and scrambles away, searing pain shooting down her thigh. She wants to collapse onto the ground. It isn't an option, she has to stand and fight.
They're freed from Tambourine's control not long after, by Haven shooting her with a well placed arrow. There's a flood of relief, Masvari is so grateful to have them back. Still, she eyes them wearily. There's an undercurrent to the awe she once felt when witnessing their strength and skill in battle. It's not fear, she refuses to call it fear, but she watches the swing of their kanabo and her stomach twists.
The battle rages on and the pain doesn't dull. She keeps her weight off of her leg to the best of her ability and ignores the throbbing pain as much as she can. She can't spare a single spell to heal herself, she has to focus on her friends, on keeping them up, on making Tambourine stop, if she can.
---
Janos's strength never fails to impress.
Masvari watches with awe as they lift and move and toss things with such ease, and she's aware that the strength they use to do so can just as easily snap a limb.
She watches them in battle, the heavy swing of their kanabo, the crack of bones under it's force. They're a true force of nature, beautiful and powerful and terrifying. She's glad to have their strength by her side. She keeps a healthy distance from them now when they fight; she watches them just as carefully in battle as she watches the enemy, as she watches Haven.
i’m going thru and editing a lot of the solo writing i’ve done to kind of help me figure out some things in the DND campaign, to share w everyone so i’m also gonna spam it here!!
masvari’s been attacked by 2 members of her party and she’s handling it, to be sure.
