PLEASE elaborate i need more alexandra content
[cracks knuckles] IM SO GLAD YOU ASKED
Okay so for context, in this post, which is some fucking adorable art of someone peacefully lying on their stomach on a large cat, I said it was Alexandra and Heathcliff. She's the super young Interpreter of a dying world, with a hostile council member breathing down her neck (Woodbridge I heard you in the council intro episode, you musty bitch, that "marvelous proclamation" was the best she could do, and if that wasn't good enough for you, get fucked). And all efforts to contact the literal missing soul of her world are falling through. Alexandra is fucking exhausted. She is tired, she is stressed, she might be suffering from magical fatigue from trying to constantly contact sylvain, which could be manifesting in chronic pain. She needs some Sleepytime tea and at least a century of naps blocked off to get her strength back. I've always pictured her as an eleven year old, thereabouts, and fuck whatever the Harry Potter books said or did, but that's too much of a responsibility to put on such a young child, wartime be damned.
So she needs a break.
And I'm going to go out on a limb and say that, when she does need one, she goes to Heathcliff, from a practical, comfort, and companionship standpoint. He's a massive cat (at least 3 stories tall, I wanna say) who's also the literal physical embodiment of the planet's magic. (Not in the way Sylvain-the-person is, I wanna say he's a byproduct of the Quell's and Sylvain's magic mixing, given sapience and life.) On a practical standpoint, that means he probably radiates a sizeable amount of magical energy. If Alexandra comes to him and just hangs out in the same general vicinity, she'll get a bit of an energy boost. Get that good, good fantasy glucose. Fuel your cells, Alexandra. You need it.
But he's also just fuckin comfy. My ex has a cat that looks exactly like Heathcliff: big orange eyes, dense grey fur, a look on his face that says he knows more than you about everything when he's not being distracted by his giant stupid orange brother, but he's not going to be a dick about it. You sink a hand into his fur, it goes and goes and keeps going. Heathcliff must be like a goddamn memory foam mattress.
And to top it all off, Heathcliff and Alexandra are buddies. It makes sense. It just does. Heathcliff is as old as the planet itself; he's old enough to remember the war that broke the crystal, and he's more than likely to understand - if not empathize - with Alexandra's exhaustion. He may have seen it in Interpreters past; he might have experienced it himself, or been a similar shoulder to lean/cry on for Alexandra's ancestors. Whatever the case, he's gotten to know Alexandra really well, and Alexandra likes him and respects his space, and he really does feel for her. And sometimes he gets tired too.
Basically Alexandra and Heathcliff are best buds and have each other's backs. If Janelle can't get a read on where Alexandra is, more often than not Heathcliff is curled up with Alexandra lying on his side or on his head or crossed paws, and they're both zonked out. And Janelle will head back upstairs and give them a minute. Naptime with Heathcliff is a time-honored tradition.
