A lover of AUs and a master of causing the feels, Wendy is always at the ready to offer love and support to her fellow members. Her posts are lovingly constructed, detailed, and every character speaks in their own voice; from the lovable Cadi to the villainous Cala. EDS wouldn't be the same without her, so go show her some love!
MEMBER OF THE MONTH
PAIR OF THE MONTH
ZELDA NOAKES & TERENCE HALLOWS
THREAD OF THE MONTH
LITTLE SHOP 'O HADES
NICCOLÒ THANASIS & PERSIE ANTHOS
Welcome to ENDLESS DIAMOND SKY! We are an animation personified site set both in the animated world and present day San Francisco. A terrible darkness is spreading through the animated realm, driving everyone from their homes and into unknown territory that we know as reality. Now they find themselves at a crossroads: do they fight for their world or do they turn their back on it and make San Francisco their home? What will you choose?
setting san francisco, calif. 2018
please register first middle last in all lowercase!
EDS is known to cause death by soul-crushing feels. Don't forget your feels bucket.
knight of still waters ★ lindsey morgan ★ animated oc ★ twenty-eight
COME AWAY TO THE WATER
Come away little loss come away to the water
To the ones that are waiting only for you
Come away little loss come away to the water
Away from the life that you always knew
We are calling to you Come away little light
Come away to the darkness
In the shade of the night we'll come looking for you
Come away little light
Come away to the darkness
To the ones appointed to see it through
We are coming for you
We are coming for you
She's always known what her life amounted to, and she's always been terrified of it. Her senses are raw, powerful, but raw; an exposed nerve constantly barraged by those around her. Empathy is something no child should be cursed with. No child should grow up constantly aware of how every single person is feeling from the brewer down the street, to the High Matriach Gert, her ancestor. She is told often that she will amount to something, to be something great, it is in her destiny. The waters said so. The waters will guide her. She hates it. She just wants to be herself and nothing more. Why can't she just be herself? Why does she need to be more?
Mathilde knows that she is destined for something special and that she should be happy, but she's not. Her mother only smiles sadly at her, and perhaps that hurts her the most. Her mother, the Knight of Still Waters, the one who knows what this means more than anyone in her whole kingdom. She knows and she doesn't tell her daughter to fight her fears, she tells her that time will change her mind. It's her mother who tells the High Matriarchs not to allow one so young into the trial. THE TEMPLE CAN WAIT A FEW YEARS! SHE IS ONLY FIVE! But, her mother's voice is drowned out by the replies of their elders.
IT IS MIMA'S WISH. DO AS WE SAY, OR RISK WRATH.
She's five. She's five and she has no idea why her mother is crying as she walks with her, her small hand wrapped so tightly in the larger one. She knows that her mother is scared, that her mother is angry, that her mother is devastated. All these emotions rake against her senses like claws against supple flesh. They leave scratch marks and she's afraid she'll bleed from the torment. But, they reach the beginning of the trail that leads through the dark marsh and all she can feel is her own panic. MAMA PLEASE. PLEASE, I DON'T WANT TO GO. She cries, she sobs, she begs, and her mother only kneels down, her hands gently cupping her face.
YOU MUST GO, MATHILDE. BUT KNOW I AM ALWAYS WITH YOU. CHIN UP, MY HEART. I'LL BE HERE WAITING. I'LL ALWAYS BE HERE WAITING FOR YOU.
It doesn't ease her fears. It makes them all the more intense and she finds breath hard to take. Why is this happening? She is only a child. A very small, very scared child. But, her mother pulls away and pushes her forward. There is no turning back, she knows that, but the marsh seems so unwelcoming and she can feel the things in there. The Fallen Ones who only wish to drag others into their torment. The despair and brokenness wash over her like towering waves and she teeters, dark eyes filling with tears again.
But, she doesn't turn back. She makes herself walk. And it's a decision she'll mostly regret until the end of her days, but she doesn't know that yet. All she knows is that if she fails this test, it'll mean her death. And perhaps the passing of her mother too. She had heard tales of her older sisters attempting the trial, only to succumb to the Fallen Ones, and the other drank from the Well and never woke up. Her mother could not take another lost child. She knows this. She knows that her mother may pass into a Fallen Being with her broken heart. She loves her mother more than life and that's all that makes her move forward through the marshy bog.
It isn't long before the creatures, the draugr come crawling up to the path. The path itself is enchanted so that they cannot get near her, but their emotions, their heartache it tears at the small child. She falters, only once, and a bloated, moss covered hand wraps around her wrist. With a shriek, she jerks and it releases her. Her own fear hammers in her head and she runs. Runs as fast as she can towards the Temple. The temple that will decide her fate.
For a temple in the middle of a swamp, it is pristine. The stones are immaculate, and the sound of running water entices her to come inside. And, yet, Mathilde pauses outside, wide eyes taking it in. It's a holy place, that is why no filth can touch it. But, can she enter? What will Mima say if she knew that her chosen lineage would end with the one who never wanted this blood debt? She didn't want to be a Knight. She didn't want to be as heartbroken as her mother.
But, the water pulls her inside. She's always been drawn by the water. The water is her safe place, and even now, at five, she can feel her connection to it strongly. It is her being. It is who she is. But like water, she is stubborn. She refuses to budge on his stance: she doesn't want this.
Mima doesn't care though, and she knows that. Mima is not cruel, or biased, she picks fairly. But, what if she didn't pick her? What if the High Matriarchs are wrong? What if she dies like her older sisters? It's almost enough to send her into sobs again, but she only allows herself the smallest of a lip tremble. But then she pulls herself up and takes another step inside, and she is taken back by how peaceful it is here. She could lie here and stay for hours, and it would be so easy. But, that's not why she's here. Too stubborn to fail, her father used to tell her. So, she walks up to the well and peers inside.
There's a cup and a bucket. With practiced ease, she raises the water up into the cup, peering at the bucket. Curious that it's here. Curious that it seems to offer no meaning here. But, she knows what to do. Her mother told her. She must drink from the Well of Knowlege, and that was all. One sip and she was done. It should've been easy, quick, but she is frozen. Staring at the clear liquid that was going to tell her who she had to be for the rest of her life. What if they didn't like who she chose to be? What if she didn't get to choose? Big thoughts for a five year old, and perhaps she didn't think in such big ways, but the fears were there, if too big for her mind to comprehend yet. She's terrified, because she knows this means change.
But, she drinks.
The water is cool and refreshing against her lips, nice as it flows down and then... she's no longer in the temple. She's in a field with a similar well, only there's a blue coated demon standing there, snarling. HAVE YOU COME TO KILL ME? It growls, a heavy paw sinking into the soft clay earth under them. HAVE YOU COME LIKE THE OTHERS? TO ATTACK AND BRING MY PELT BACK?
Not knowing how to respond, Mathilde stands there, bright eyes trying to comprehend what she's seeing, what she's hearing. Eventually, her voice comes to her as she shakes her head. No, she replies, holding her hands up. No, I have not come to hurt you. I just want to go home. She steps backwards and realizes that she can't move that way. There is a force stopping her, and it only heightens her panic.
THEN WHY ARE YOU HERE, LITTLE KNIGHT? ARE YOU HERE TO LAUGH AT ME? LIKE THE KINGS OF OLD? ARE YOU HERE TO BEG MIMA FOR GRACE AND FORGIVENESS? The beasts tail swishes back and forth, slowly crawling forward towards the small frightened child. She mewled quietly and shook her head. NO? THEN DO YOU SEEK KNOWLEDGE? FOR KNOWLEDGE COMES A PRICE.
Aye, there's the rub, small one. What do you pay for knowledge? What will you do for it? There are things in this world that you don't need to know, but aye, you must make a decision. What do you tell the beast? That you want to go home? no that's weakness. That you want to fight? no that's not true. What do you want? Why are you here?
I WANT TO SAVE MY MOTHER. It comes out from deep within the girl and she's startled by its force. The beast pauses and tilts its giant head at her, intelligent eyes regarding her calmly. Its advance is stopped, and she finds breath coming easier now.
AH. WHAT WOULD YOU GIVE UP TO SAVE HER?
She's five and she's terrified, but she knows this answer. Dark eyes meet the beast's with no hesitation. She is terrified, but she takes a step forward, small hands curled into fists. She is done being talked down to. Her life? If it stops this cycle, then yes. She doesn't want to be here. She wants to go home.
WITHOUT A DOUBT, BRUNNMIGI. DEATH IS ONLY THE PATH TO SOVNGARDE. BUT YOU, YOU WILL BE STUCK HERE IN THIS WELL TO TORMENT THOSE WHO DRINK. The words she speaks are not her own. She does not know what a brunnmigi is, or why the monster shrinks from her. What she does know is that she feels lighter, and stronger than before.
Her eyes open and she is in the temple. She passed. By Mima, she has passed. She cries. This wasn't what she wanted.
Come away little lamb come away to the water
Give yourself so we might live anew
Come away little lamb come away to the slaughter
To the ones appointed to see this through
We are coming for you
We are coming for you
Come away little lamb come away to the water
To the arms that are waiting only for you
Come away little lamb come away to the slaughter
To the one appointed to see this through
Training is her least favorite activity. The eight year old often skips her classes with her mother, instead choosing to run with the rougher gangs of kids in her village. The kids who had no qualms with breaking the rules and laughing about it. Anything to get her out of lessons and practice. She's supposed to be serious about this, but she finds it so hard to be. Fate has decreed that her life is forfeit. The old crone seems to be quiet adept at making decisions for her without Mathilde's input, so why not let her?
That is where she is this day. She is sitting on a hill, watching the boys roll around in the mud given by the spring's rainfall. She knows her mother is there before she arrives. She can feel the slow building anger tugging at her and it makes her sick. Her mother doesn't understand. She doesn't understand that she can feel shackles around her wrists, and her ankles fettered, dragging her to the bottom of the river. She didn't want this, and her mother wouldn't even begin to understand why.
" --- Mathilde, I refuse to keep pulling you back to your lessons."
"Then why are you here?" She knows she shouldn't talk back, it's disrespectful, but she's bitter. (She's only eight! How can she know bitterness this deep at such a young age?)
Her mother is quiet, but she can feel the disappointment bubbling underlaid with sadness deeper within it. She pretends to not notice by pulling her bruised and scraped knees to her chest. This is her favorite hill. It is not as high as the one that houses the Great House, but it overlooks the river, and behind that, the marsh. The place that her life was forfeited.
"Because... you are my daughter, and it is my duty."
"Your duty?!" She's on her feet before she realizes it, bare feet sliding in the dirt, grass shifting with her. "I don't want this! I don't.... I---" Anger is quickly replaced by sobbing tears, her knees buckled and she would have hit the ground if not for her mother's quick actions.
( She knows what the Matriarchs say. How undeserving she is of this gift, this honor, this esteemed position. Could Mima be wrong? Perhaps another should take the trial. Perhaps she should be sent to the Desert Land to learn to appreciate her elders. She knows all of this and she doesn't want to go, but neither does she want to become someone who.... who is expected to kill. )
Her mother says nothing, she just pulls her close and lets her cry. She knows what her mother thinks, she is too like her father. Too quick to anger, too quick to tears, too quick to show her emotions. It is not wise to wear emotions on the sleeve, it leads to being overwhelmed, but Mathilde cannot help it. She doesn't know how to hide her emotions and the lessons aren't working. She feels everything. Everything so acutely that she thinks she might die from the weight of it all. The lessons don't teach her how to temper her own heart, or build a dam against the rushing current of emotions that flowed into her at all times.
She wants it to stop.
Training is hard for the girl. She is taught how to fight, how to dress, how to speak, how to control her powers, and how not to run with the gang of boys down the lane. ( That last lesson is hard for her. Very hard. ) Her water prowess grows steadily and is worthy of reknown, while her empathy becomes harder and harder for her to control. She tries, tries, tries, if only to prove them wrong.
They try all sorts of weapons with the child, but she always comes back to the axes. Which... was much to the amusement of her grandmother. Her mother had a powerful longsword, and the Knight before her had a spear. And so, her grandmother sets about to forge the Knight a weapon worth her granddaughter's prowess. It will take years, but the old woman is stubborn. An axe light enough to weild in one hand, while the other arm is strapped to a shield. A perfect ideal for their kingdom. Defense with a formidable offense. Surrounded by Fallen on all sides, Ravndal knows how to defend and attack. The weapons must be a reflection of this.
And, so, her training goes on, and she grows. She grows fabulously into her powers, and soon she has a handle on even her empathy. She is not as aloof as her mother would like, of course, but she is the best her she can possibly be. At least for a ten year old.
there are no words for the day a daughter loses her mother. no songs, no powerful words. there is only a void filled with empty blackness. a grief that never leaves. and only silence.
Where is she? Where has she gone?
Mathilde runs through Saeholm as fast as she can will herself to go. She can feel the foreboding thudding through her whole being, and dark eyes flicker through doors and windows as she barrels through the city, trying to avoid knocking anyone over. She pretends that everything is fine, because she must. She must not let the people know her panic, her fears. It is not to be allowed. And she runs. She must find her.
In her heart, she knows where her mother has gone, but her brain refuses to acknowledge it. The truth is a hard pill to swallow, even as a truth finder. For once, she wants to be wrong.
"Mama, no, please no," she whispers, her voice strained. She slides to a stop, closing her eyes and inhaling air, letting it fill her lungs. Her powers are growing, and she knows it. But, that's not quite a good thing. It means her time is drawing near. But... today feels so off. And when she awoke, her mother was missing. And her gut is telling her something bad is happening. Today will change her life.
And, suddenly, the twelve year old knows where to go.
Her dress tangles her knees as she changes direction, the blue bottom quickly stains brown as she runs. Runs down the path, down away from the city Saeholm and to the marshland. The place she swore she would never return to again. Her lungs burn and her throat caught, but she can't stop. She cannot stop. She knows what her mother is doing now. And she cannot allow it. She will not allow it. She is too young to be an orphan.
The ground quickly turns to muck, but her powers keep her feet on the mud and not sinking into it. It's subtle, subconsicous, she does it without thinking now. (She's learned.) And suddenly, she's there. And her mother is there. Just standing there in the middle of the path, her hands at her side, the longsword glittering in the low light from its perch in the mud.
"Mama?" She calls, taking a step forward, eyes wide. She doesn't know what to think. She doesn't want to think. She wants them both to go home. Now.
"I knew you'd find me here, dear heart. You should go home."
"No, we should go home. What are you doing? Why are you---?" But she knows the answer. She can feel the power shift even now. Her mother is fading, and she refuses to see why. It has been two months since the flood that took her brother and father from them, and the heartbreak her mother feels has overwhelmed her. She has lost so many. Perhaps too many?
"No. I will only be a danger to them. You can feel it can't you? The stale water that's filled me? It festers and grows and soon, soon my dearest, I will not longer be myself. I will be one of them," her mother spoke in a calm, clear voice as she always did. Her hand raises and waves at the marsh where the Draugr were rising. They know the pair are here, and they want their pound of flesh.
Mathilde doesn't answer, she cannot answer. She doesn't need to hear her mother say it to know what she wants her daughter to do. She wants her to kill her. Kill her before she changes. Before she becomes the damned and the desolate. One of those things. And she cannot allow her mother to become one of those, but can she?
Can she kill her own mother?
"Sweetheart, please," her mother said, taking a step towards her, her arms open. "It must be you. It has to be you."
The bracer on her arm buzzed at her sudden shift in emotions, and she could feel her eyes fill up with hot tears. Tears she could stop, but she could not. She would not. "Mama, I can't... I just... I c-can't..." But, she has to. Her mother is going to change, and she can feel the shift in the air already. So, she has to make a decision.
But, can she do it? Can she? This is a new sort of terrible feeling for you. And, how does she reconcile this against everything she was taught about healing? This was the opposite. This was taking a life and she isn't sure she can do it. Yet. Yet, her fingers tingle and she concentrates.
If it was her, she'd want to go out before she Fell. She could feel the fear her mother was harboring deep inside, and she could not allow this. She could not let her mother become one of those... those things. She has to. She has no choice. Her mother deserves a better death than to wallow in her pain for all of eternity.
So, she moves; slowly, calculatedly. Her hand finds the dagger at her side and she hesitates, but her mother's hand finds her's and pulls it up to her breast, the tip so sharp, ever so sharp. Even the lightest pressure has blood prickling through her mother's violet dress. She pauses, dark eyes meeting her mother's for a moment before she pushes and... her mother does all the work for her. She pulls her hand down and it's done before she knows it. The dagger is there and she can feel her mother's life start to fade.
She doesn't remember hitting the ground with her mother's body on her lap, but here she is, sobbing and tell her how sorry she is. She doesn't want this, she never wanted this. A babbling of feelings that won't stop. And yet...
Her mother just smiles at her, a hand reaching up to touch her cheek and says one more thing before her life is ended, and her soul is purified.
"You've always had my love, Mathilde. Never compromise." A slow, last breath and...
"I love you."
Mathilde doesn't leave the marsh for almost an entire day. Her people don't know she's the new Knight for three days. She's inconsolable. She doesn't want this.
She just wants her mother back.
WASH OUR SOULS CLEAN
I have seen what man can do
When the evil lives inside of you
Many are the weak
And the strong are few
But with the water
We'll start anew
Well, won't you take me down to the levy, take me down to the stream, take my down to the water,
we're gonna wash our souls clean, take me down to the river, take me down to the lake,
Yes, we'll all go together, we're gonna do it for the good lord's sake
She's been the Knight of Still Waters for two years now, and she's not as opposed to her station as she used to be. At fourteen, she's a mite more mature, and finds it easier to accept the inevitability of her life. Because she's realized one simple truth: her fate may be sealed, but what she does within that fate is not. She still has free will. Her choices carry more weight with them, but the choices are not taken from her. Her path may be laid before her feet, but she has the choice of how she runs it.
It's an empowering thought for the young teenager, especially at this age where she's finally finding who she is. And how she's grown from a knobby kneed preteen intent on defying everyone to a rather attractive young woman who.... is still rather intent on defying everyone. But at least now she's a little more reserved. If only because her powers require her to be so.
One of her new responsibilities was that she got to welcome the newest Knight to the fold. Which meant... she had to travel to Ilmahs. Which is in Manatea. Which if no one is paying attention is the gods damned desert nation. They sent the Knight of Still Waters to the desert. To say that Mathilde is annoyed by this turn of events is a definite understatement. At least her clothes do not make her unbearably hot. The fabric is thin, and colored in greens and blues, and she's thankful for her manipulation powers that make it so that she can monitor her sweating. But, she's not used to standing still. She drums her fingers against the axe hilt where it sits holstered on her left hip. A nervous habit that her trainers would have reprimanded her for.
Waiting is not her strongest suit. She is as restless as the river that runs through the earth, the current on a constant move. Her spirit is the same, always wishing to move, to see, to explore. Standing in place is torture. Stagnant water breeds infection. (The Matriarchs chide her, saying that she is the Knight of Still Waters, not Running Currents.) But she has to wait until the ceremony is over before she can be free of this stifling sensation. It is not as if she doesn't have enough to concentrate on.
This is a test for her as well. This is the largest crowd she has ever been in, and her empathy is making her head swim. The overwhelming joyous emotions hit her as the heat takes her breath away. She has to be calm, let them wash over her and not let them sweep her away in the current. It's hard. There's no way to ignore the fact that it's so hard.
A person turns to her and puts their hand on her shoulder and she swears all she sees for a moment is blackness. All her being is joy and exaltation and she is lost to the current. She doesn't remember someone pulling her up, but she does realize that some time has passed. It was just too much. Too much on her senses. It's raw and bloody now, and she's finding herself jumping at every little flicker of emotion, but now it's time to watch the new Knight mark her place with fire. A pyre so great the whole city could see it.
Mathilde had front row seats, of course, and she wishes she didn't. She's so exhausted from the emotions around her, but she cannot show that. She must stand in her Ravndalian Regalia and look her part. She's the first, she cannot falter, she cannot show weakness. Not right now. No matter how much the fire makes her feel weaker, more tired. There will be time for sleep after the ceremony. She can steal away after she meets with Helia Altan, and take a nap. Perhaps she can find a tub large enough to comfortably curl up in with her element all around her.
She doesn't expect to like the Fiery Knight, especially as she can feel grumpiness set in, but the young teen turns to her and she is immediately greeted with a look that she knows too well. She's seen it in her reflection way too often.
Mathilde offers her hand with a mischievious smirk. "Do you all show off, or did you know I was here?"
She's going to like this one. She already knows it.
I have fallen so many times
For the devil's sweet, cunning rhymes
And this old world
Has brought me pain
But there's hope
For me again
Well, won't you take me down to the levy, take me down to the stream, take my down to the water,
we're gonna wash our souls clean, take me down to the river, take me down to the lake,
Yes, we'll all go together, we're gonna do it for the good lord's sake
She's not old enough to know what it's like to stare death in the face. She's not old enough to know this primal fear that curls into her stomach and threatens to freeze her spine where it is, encased in ice, unable to move. She's only eighteen, and she wants to wish this way. Wants to believe this is a bad dream, that Cyra was wrong. She knows better, she knows this is reality and that her fellow Knight isn't wrong, couldn't be wrong. But this? This is overwhelming.
The eighteen year old pulls herself together and holds her hand out, the bracer on her forearm humming with its enchantment, and soon, Ran has returned to her hand, the brilliant steel axe shining as the dark blood drips from its blade. Her shield raises as she blocks an attack that would have taken out Helia behind her. It's still baffling to her how quickly they fell into this battle formation. As if it was natural, the five of them stood here as the last resistance. Whatever this was, it was not of their world. Their emotions, whenever Mathilde tries to test those waters, are alien and dark. They make her physically ill to concentrate on, so she switches and pays attention only to her sisters. Her small aura of healing is doing its job, most scrapes and cuts are healing fast, but she knows this is futile.
Do they know that they are going to lose this battle?
She feels the guilt swirl in her stomach and she glances sideways to where the Knight of Time and Space is, and she prays to Mima that her friend forgives her for prying. She doesn't care about her teachings that she must remain aloof and uncaring about what she feels with her empathy. Her friend was so worried and tortured, that she had to say something, but was it worth it? Would Cyra see it that way? Did she? Or did she think that Mathilde was nosy and used her powers for selfish reasons?
And Helia? What of her? Did she resent her use of empathy? It was an unfair advantage, and she could feel this odd, cold sensation settling in her chest. (The same aura she felt coming from her mother on the day her life ran its course.)
"No," she breathes aloud as she whips around and hits a beast square in the face, her axe slicing through its flesh with ease, her armor shining with new blood. She's not falling into the same trap her mother did. She will not. Not when her sisters need her. She is not desolate and she is not hopeless. Let them be mad, she knows this was a good thing. They knew what was coming. They were prepared. Otherwise they'd be dead now. She knows this. She knows this like she knows her heart pumps with blood and her lungs breathe air. She is not sorry.
Rules were meant to be broken.
Her shield arm raises again and the monster stops in its tracks as its blood is stopped in its veins. Beat. Beat. Beat, beat, beat, beat.... silence. It falls dead. She hates doing that, it takes so much energy, but it works. It grants them a small breath and she looks over at her sisters and sees their exhaustion in their faces and she hopes her own is masked more. She hopes, she hopes.
She wants to talk to them. Tell them she's sorry, that she loves them, that they are the only people she cares about. Instead, she stands taller as the next wave comes. The wave that she knows is impossible to beat. She knows they're going to lose, but she still stands tall, axe in hand, shield raised with Mima's symbol smithed into the metal. If she was going to fall, she was going to fall fighting. It is her people's way, and while she may turn her nose up at traditions, this is one she feels to the bottoms of her feet. Go down fighting and bring glory to your name as you ascend to the halls of Sovngarde.
She doesn't get the chance, however. The moment she's convinced she is about to die, Cyra has saved them, pulling them all through a portal before the killing blows can land. Her shoulder hits the ground, and she looks up when she can catch her breath. This isn't... where is she? Sitting up faster than she should ( she can feel the broken ribs grind against each other in horrific pain ) she looks around frantically. Where are her sisters? Where is she? What happened?
This isn't her world, she can already feel Mima disconnecting from her, and she doesn't know where her friends are. "Cyra? Helia?" She ventures, her voice echoing in the canyon where she landed. The only answer is her own voice and she feels so alone. It's the first time she's been all by herself and she cannot help but let the tears come and tell herself its because of the pain. It's time to wander, she guesses. Ran flies back to her hand and she starts walking.
Her life has always been about walking paths, after all. Something will be waiting for her.
Tried my hand at the bible, tried my hand at prayer, but now nothing but the water is gonna bring my soul to bare,
but now nothing but the water is gonna bring my soul to bare
She's adjusted to her new life in this second new world well. Welcome to San Francisco. Or, well, welcome to a new life, without your family or your friends. It leaves her feeling hollow inside, but here she is. She's still pushing forward, as stubborn as a river in her course. Fitting, she guesses. After all that fighting, she cannot fight her nature. But, what is the nature of water but its remarkably fluidity? It conforms to whatever shape it is put into, and isn't she doing the same thing? Conforming to this new shape, this new world?
The radio strapped to her side starts making high pitched whine noises and her head snaps up, on high alert. Her brain has already been trained to respond to these sounds and she almost laughs. How far she's come, right? From the girl who ran away from everything she was supposed to be to this woman who devoted every day to helping others, trying to find those she lost. Mathilde never thought she would find herself here. But, here she is. And she's.... happy. A little hollow, but happy.
She hopes her sisters will be proud of her when they find her again. She hopes they've also found ways to flourish with their talents as she has. Sure, being a Fire Fighter / EMT wasn't glamorous, but with her water prowess and abilities still granted to her through Mima's grace... it was so fulfilling. Even if the boys thought she was too small to do her job sometimes.
She's going to blow San Francisco away, so it better get ready. She wasn't born to blend in ---- so, gotta stand out, baby girl. And when she finds her sisters again? They're going to rock this world.
She can't wait.
NAME: Mathilde Dagrun Hjordis. I based her home on Norse Mythos, and I wanted her name to reflect that, and reflect the battle ready ideals that her home have. They are always down to fight, brawl and have a good time, but with the Fallen around, they are always ready to protect their home. So, Mathilde means Strength in Battle, Dagrun means Secret Day, and Hjordis means sword/weapon goddess. She was born to be who she is. Her name had to reflect this as well.
SPECIES: Knight. In this world, all are gifted with power and magic, but the Knights are the most powerful of all. There can only be one from each country at a time, but these Knights can wield dangerous and destructive power, especially compared to the layman’s abilities. Ravndalians are healers, empaths and water manipulators. For example, while an average Ravndalian would be able to judge the simple ebb and flow of emotions, Mathilde can read into them deeper, and be influenced less by strong emotions. An average Ravndalian can probably manipulate a cup of water, but surrounded by her sister knights, Mathilde could raise the lakes from the beds in which they lie. On the outside, Mathilde looks like a normal woman of her tribe, nothing special. In this world, her powers are significantly decreased and weakened. More about that in the abilities section.
WORLD: The world was created by Max, and is filled with magic, and protector beings known as Knights, who protect their people from destruction and despair. They are political powers and physical forces. Of the many countries, only five remain now. Each are a shining example of their homeland, and are devoted to its protection.
Ravndal is an almost central location in the world, if the Fallen Lands had not pushed it so far west. As it has no coast, most of its land had been eaten by other Kingdoms and their Fallen Ones. As it stand, it is only the Fallen Lands that separate it from the other four kingdoms. Not that it has ever been particularly bothered about defenses. Naturally, it only has one place of entry: through a narrow land bridge that separates two of the lakes to the northwest part of the peninsula. The land around this bridge is flat and plains, making it exceptionally easy to see an invasion. The rest of the land is cut into an uneven half by the river Brunnr, which feeds into the larger of the three lakes on the back side of the almost island. To the west of the river lays bog and marshland, uninhabitable by any living person. Draugr, the Fallen Waters, roam the land, creating a mystical aura of impenetrable despair. In the center of these lands stands a pristine temple of polished marble. No darkness seems to be able to touch it. The spring of Mímisbrunnr lies at the heart of it, a spring that promises knowledge and power to any who are worthy. The taste is said to be the sweetest flavor that has ever graced the world. Only those who are born to be Knights are powerful enough to drink it, and even fewer survive it.
To the west of the river are the habitable plains and fields of Ravndal. While a forceful people, they do not have many large settlements. Mostly small villages that dot the edges of the lakes and the river, but all hold loyalty to the capital: Saeholm. It’s larger than most, made of stone instead of wood and hay, but it doesn’t tower so much as it sprawls. The High Matriarch’s Hall sit upon the highest hill in the land, but that is all the height to be found in Saeholm. The buildings of the city are spaced far from each other, allowing the dwellers some space to breathe. As mostly farmers, fur traders, and fishermen, space was the best for the people.
The people in particular are a hardy sort. They work hard, play hard, fight harder. Rough and rowdy, but none are more loyal than the Ravndalians. (Or so they’ll tell you.) Their lineage is traced through their mothers, and they often introduce themselves as children of their mother. ( I.E. Sigurd, Son of Borghild.) Older mothers are revered as wisened elders, and are often sought for advice and for blessings. Families hail to a clan, and the clan to a Grand Matriarch, and the Grand Matriarch to the High Matriarch. It’s a sense of order, and a warm one. Mothers were thought to have more patient hands with decisions, and not so fast to anger. Of course, this is a gendered superstition, but the tradition remains. The High Matriarchs handle the large political decisions and the issue of Knighthood. The other, daily tasks are delegated to the lower Matriarchs.
To become a Matriarch, one must have become a great-great-grandmother. Only then is one wise enough to make decisions for the future. Of course, this means that change comes slowly in Ravndal, but they aren’t too mussed by this. Change is change. There is no real resistance. The people are a very open kind, which could be related to their abilities. As empaths, feelings and emotions are held in high regard. As empaths, the Ravndalians are reknown truth finders, and often found in other courts, to ensure that things are going forward in a very forthright way. At least, the more civilized ones. For this, they are known as truthfinders, and in most places garner a certain respect for their prowess.
As for exports, they are farmers and animal herders, so most exports are grains and furs. However, their most profitable export is beer, ale, and mead. The crops they grow are perfect for making grain based alcohol. As a result, Saeholm has some of the biggest breweries in the small nation. And the profits created are enough to afford imports from the other nations and keep the defenses up against the Fallen Lands. As a whole, Ravndal is a land of hard working farmer folk who rever the god Mima, and in her good graces, are blessed with plentiful rains and tides, which bring the grains and the fish.
PLAYBY: Lindsey Morgan. I wanted someone who could look vulnerable and badass at once. And she fits the bill. She’s got an exotic kind of beauty about her, and a stare that tells you that she’ll kick your ass if you look at her the wrong way.
OCCUPATION: NURSE. It took a lot of thought, but Mathilde honestly wants to help people. It's the reason she didn't give up being a Knight when she could have. Her powers have to mean something or all the sacrifice is for nothing. Her world would not fall in vain. Empathy and healing are both very helpful in a medical scene. While she's blunt, she is not without social graces and wants to comfort those who need it most.
So, I changed my mind, but i wanted to leave the old occupation here. She's now a basic EMT with the San Francisco Fire Department. As part of her training, she has to be able to do both jobs (which she volunteered for to keep busy). She's mouthy, stubborn, and will be forceful to get her way. These are all good traits to have in an EMT. Nurse still fit her, but this job fits her better. And I know more about it! Haha. Screw social graces. Stick the rude ones with the number 12 needle and get'em to shuddup, amirite?
POWERS & ABILITIES: Like all Ravndalians, she is gifted with the powers of empathy and aquakinesis. However, since she is the Knight of Still Waters, she was also graced with healing capabilities, as well as amplified powers.
EMPATHY In layman’s terms, it’s the ability to feel and understand someone else’s situations or emotions. As a power, it enables Mathilde to feel the ebb and flow of emotions within people. An average Ravndalian may only be able to pick up on a general vibe, but as the Knight, Mathilde can pick apart the emotions she’s feeling and name them. She cannot control what others feel, only access it. It is an one way street, however powerful. Her level of empathy is almost to the level of mind reading. It gives her an edge in battle. However, this is only true in her homeworld. Disconnected from her land and Mima, Mathilde’s empathy is merely a stronger version of the average. She can still tell what you’re feeling, but it is not so strong anymore.
HYDROKINESIS All of her people are able to manipulate water. The average Ravndalian can use their ability to help with irrigation of crops. While they cannot reroute rivers, or manipulate the lakes, they can will water to run down irrigation ditches, or to fill buckets. As a Knight, Mathilde can redirect the river’s currents, and recede the lake’s reach. She can create waterspouts with minimal effort and influence storms in the sky. When surrounded by her sister Knights, she becomes a deadly foe, able to drown her enemies by pulling moisture out of the air and filling their lungs. She could even restrict their blood flow. In the real world, her abilities are weakened considerably. She can manipulate small amounts of water, but it must be outside water. (Meaning, that she can no longer affect bloodflow.) Her powers recede to just above average for one of her type.
HEALING. Ravndalians are natural healers. Using their affinity for water, they can use the medium as a conduit for the latent healing magic they possess. To heal a wound, the person would need to be submerged in water, and the worse the wound the more energy it requires. The average healer can heal broken bones and bruises rather easily, and in most cases, can stop infections, but the more serious the disease or issue, the less chance of healing. Mathilde at her base Knight power is an adept healer, without the need of a water tub to heal broken bones and bruises, and with a tub she would be able to heal serious diseases and infections. At her full power with her sisters next to her, she’s able to create a healing aura, shielding her sisters from lesser hurt. Scratches heal without conscious thought, and bruises disappear before they can fully form. However, outside of her world and in the real world, she requires water to heal, and even then it takes monumental energy on her part. For her to heal a broken bone, she would have to sleep for approximately 5 hours to recoup the energy lost. In the animated world, it’s a little more powerful, but without Mima’s warm gaze, her abilities suffer.
BLUNT Mathilde comes from a very forthright, rowdy people that are loosely based on the Norse attitudes. As a result, she’s blunt and forthcoming with her opinions and ideas. She’s never rude on purpose, but she doesn’t like tiptoeing around the truth. She feels if you’re honest, then it’ll all work out in the end, and you’ll have no regrets when your end comes. Nothing is ever said malicious, unless it’s deserving. She doesn’t sugar coat her words, either. She’s very… well, blunt.
ALOOF Because of her empathy powers, Mathilde is hesitant to grow close to anyone who isn’t prepared for her abilities. It’s too easy to overwhelm her, or for her to start acting on the invading emotions. It’s more for her own mental sanity, than it is for any dislike of other people. She had watched too many of her people go insane from invading emotions. A lot of the Fallen Water Knights fell because they could not control their empathetic bonds and fell to darkness. She doesn’t want to end that way.
INSUBORDINATE Mathilde has always been a difficult person. While she isn’t the type to rebel and break rules for the sake of breaking rules, she does speak out and push against rules that she views as unnecessary. It has made her life a little more difficult, but she doesn’t mind that. She doesn’t like the idea of power being lorded over others, and that’s how she views rules (or laws) that are made just to be there. (Think less mala in se crimes, and more mala prohibita crimes. They’re only illegal because someone said they were.) Not that she goes out of her way to break rules, but she’s very vocal about how she sees them. Very. Vocal.
SECRET-KEEPER As an empath, she is given an insight into the feelings of those around her, as such, she has precious power over these people. But, she does not lord it. Instead, she’ll just pretend that she doesn’t notice unless the feeling is malicious in nature or one of her close friends. And if it’s a close friend, she will never ever out the other person. She’ll only mention it in private, and even then, she’s beyond gentle. She knows that her powers can be viewed as invasive, and she seeks to comfort those who feel that way. She doesn’t like invading others personal lives, but realizes it cannot be helped. It is who she is, it is up to her how she reacts to that.
RESENTFUL Her heart knows the depths of resentment and she has great capacity for it. She holds grudges as tightly as the goddess Ran holds her trash in her nets. Those who hurt her deserve to hurt in return. For one born into a nation of healers and empaths, she is quite vengeful when it comes down to it. She doesn’t forget a hurt, and she will find a way to repay the debt.
GRACIOUS As vengeful as she can be, she is also very gracious. She enjoys sharing things with those she cares about. Often she will be found buying treats for her friends in mass amounts, or giving away most of her lunch to someone who looks hungry. She grew up with a sense of sharing, and a large clan, and she misses that. Everyone ate together, drank together, fought together and died together. If she can mirror that in this world, she will. Mathilde very rarely forgets a favorite snack, as well. Tell her once how much you enjoy a candy, and she’ll buy it for you every time she sees it.
BACKGROUND: Mathilde was born into expectation. Her mother was the Knight of Still Waters before her, and it was expected that it would pass from her to one of her four daughters. Mathilde was the second youngest, and she knew, that it would come to her. Before that, she would have to pass the trial. The trial that two of her sisters had tried and failed before her. So, when the five year old changed the current in the stream by her home, the High Matriarchs ordered her to take the test. She didn’t want to go. She kicked and screamed and fought tooth and nail to get out of going. She failed in her fight. So, the sobbing five year old was taken to the path that would take her to the Still Water Temple, and pushed along. Reluctantly, she agreed. She trekked the path and avoided the Fallen at every turn. She arrived at the Temple and attempted the trial. To her horror, she passed. She was to be the next Knight.
Her training started immediately and she was quickly taught how to control and amplify her powers, and her diplomatic duties. From age five to twelve, she was trained in battle, in politics, and in power. At the age of twelve, her mother passed and Mathilde was announced as the new Knight of Still Waters. Slowly, the other Knights were announced and took their place and Mathilde was there to see every single one, and offer a helpful smile and silly joke.
And then everything changed. The Fallen started coming out of the bog and marshland, invading the lands of Ravndal. People started to panic as their empathic links were overwhelmed with despair. Panicked, Mathilde ran to meet with her fellow Knights, and found that they were also feeling the same thing. Each Kingdom was suffering different, and poor Cyra was seeing awful things, but Mathilde was comforted in knowing her worries were not the only ones. But, they didn’t have time to make a plan. The Darkness came and they were called to action.
It would have killed them. It was going to kill them all. If it wasn’t for Cyra’s quick thinking and opening a portal, she knew they were all going to die. She could feel it pressing it around them. As the eldest she was supposed to be the strongest. (As the first, she was supposed to know better.) But, Cyra had saved them all, much to her relief. But, it dropped them in a world they didn’t know. And… she wandered. Trying to figure it out. She knew Mima was far away, too far away for her to still be the Knight she needed but, Cyra’s actions would not be for nothing. Eventually, she happened upon a group of refugees and followed them to the Portal. Here is her new life.
CANON CUTOFF: After a meeting by the five Knights, the girls find out that they all have the same fear, same feeling of impending doom. Not long after, the Darkness attacks and the Knights spring into action to save their world. If not for Cyra’s quick thinking and fast magic, the group would have been mercilessly murdered as they tried to stand against the invading Darkness. Her portal took the group to the Animated World, where they wandered until they found the Portal to San Francisco.