the process of curing.

welcome to aeceso, an independent roleplay blog for porlyusica from the animanga fairy tail. this portrayal is constructed by jana (29 / esl) and the blog is headcanon driven, canon divergent, semi-active. please take a moment to familiarise yourself with my headcanons! this is not a blog for makarov likers as many of the headcanons are quite critical of him.

Portrayal Notes.

personality: canon divergence. I have stressed this many times before, but---she is an accomplished healer. as "funny" as "old woman who lives all alone in the woods doesn't to be bothered and hits people with her broom" is to the writer, it seems nonsensical to me. no one who studied for years to have the credentials to be a healer would actually hate people. I know that it is supposed to be because she is Grandine's counterpart and Grandine loved humans, according to Wendy, I don't like it because it flattens all characters originally from Edolas to carricatures, to mirror images who do not exist outside of being a reflection. I think she is a woman who lost the entire world she called home, who has overly keen senses that put a major strain on her (cause migraines and overstimulation, sometimes) and who has chosen "living alone in the woods" as the most reasonable accomodation for her needs.

personality. so if she is not the carricature, what is up with her personality? slow she is to trust, slow to anger. she is honest and blunt, having little patience for mindgames and minced words. she is dutiful as a healer and she continues to learn more about her chosen field every day. she is loyal, as long as she receives loyalty in exchange for hers. she likes to be out in nature and she detests artificial scents (they make her sneeze).

mental health. there is definitely some neurodivergence going on, certainly some depression and trauma caused by the aforementioned loss of her entire world of origin, but I am presently not in the right mindset to diagnose my muse

expertise & knowledge. she possesses a wealth of knowledge when it comes to lacrima because Edolas was reliant on the material. Edolas possesses more knowledge of lacrima than Earthland because Earthland can solve things with magic while Edolas needed to rely on technology.

magic. in my opinion, Edolas was once a world of magic but lost that magic somewhere along the line. this theory is connected to the fact that Edolas does not have dragons, but Faust designed his construct to look like a dragon which i take to mean that once upon a time, there were dragons in Edolas---maybe dragons were even able to travel between the worlds. for this muse, it means that Porlyusica is descended from mages, leaving her with the latent ability to use magic but without the ability to gather magic from her environment because the environment was barren. she was not able to cast magic in Edolas. however, upon arriving in Earthland, she was able to gather magic from her environment and promptly got very sick as her body was not used to this.

family. @reivun is her son. their relationship is quite complicated because they are both complicated people, but there is love. but there is also the complication of "what do you do when you love your son but you have come to acknowledge that your marriage probably left you with quite a bit of trauma?" on one end and a dose of "you realise your mother was young and had dreams and hopes of her own and much of it is now ashes and a grave" on the other.

relationship, marriage and divorce. please refer to this headcanon

reputation. please refer to this headcanon

Canon Divergences.

canon divergence re: the entire war arc. there is no reason to assume that zeref does not know that fairy heart is located in magnolia. or, at the very least: fiore. thus, mounting any war effort towards a country that is not fiore makes no sense. it means to create battlefields that are a waste of resources. and while he has resources, i still think he would want to win the war swiftly, obtain fairy heart and go on to relive his life after getting rid of acnologia. even faking to be serious about destroying all of the continent would be questionable; he is emperor and it is unlikely that anyone would have really questioned his strategy. especially since once fairy heart had been obtained, the continent of ishgal would probably have fallen very quickly. fiore is, thanks to makarov’s secrecy, unprepared and would have no time to call upon their allies and their allies would have no time to rally their troops and come to fiore’s aid. in fact, that even so many guild mages were available should be a minor miracle — it should generally be assumed that especially s-class mages would usually be on long-term quests. tl;dr: the empire focused their attack on fiore and fiore alone and did not bother with other countries since it would have been a waste of time and resources alike.

canon divergence regarding chapter 469: this is a matter of personal discomfort, but as i have lost my grandmother to cancer, i hate the use of cancer and similarly illnesses to ramp up the angst factor. for this reason, natsu having developed an anti-ethernos tumor did not happen and i will ignore all references to it. i have not yet read how it all plays out but as it indeed does not have any major plot relevance because brandish fixes it in about five minutes, i think i am better off without this vague idea of a subplot. additionally, porlyusica is one of the best healers in all of earthland so please erase her line 'but there are no surgeons in ishgal with the requisite level of skill…’ from your memory because had it actually occured, she would have had the skill. she is canonly an accomplished surgeon so i don’t know what the hell this is suddenly about.

. . .

You fell.

. . .

You remember closing your eyes. You remember curling up, tucking your legs against your chest and making yourself small. You remember thinking it doesn't matter what I do, I'll be a splatter when I hit the ground. You understand physics too well. You know about velocity, you know too much. You remember deciding not to scream because no one would hear. No one could save you. You still detest the notion of wasting anything.

Even though, well---you are a dead girl walking falling.

. . .

You remember thinking why am I falling more slowly now? because you have never not thought about everything as it happens to you. Your mother calls you observant and smiles. Your father looks at you with worry, sometimes. Your mind is a constant tornado of thoughts. Never slowing down. Hah. Ironic. You realise, of course, that if your fall is being somehow slowed in a way---that you cannot comprehend and you hate not understanding---that does not break your neck instantly, you might actually stand a chance. You might yet not become a splatter.

Huh.

Only problem: where will you land?

. . .

Does it matter?

You don't really think it does. Survival is survival. And survival is the only way to extricate yourself from from this situation.

. . .

So, you landed. Didn't break your neck. It still hurt, of course. You do not open your eyes. You do not uncurl your body. You try to breathe, but---your lungs feel like they are on fire. Your thoughts break off for a moment, then you can think clearly again. Your lungs are not the only thing that feels like it is on fire. Your body . . . it feels like the worst fever you ever had---and then even worse. Pain consumes you. Every muscle, ever tendon, every aspect of your physical being is hurting.

It would be fascinating, were it not this horrifying.

Maybe this is death. It feels unfair. You survived the fall. So why does it hurt so terribly? What little information about your surroundings you can still parse tells you that you are in a meadow. You hear birds---strange birds, birds you have never heard before. It sounds beautiful. You would like to hear more of their song, you think.

She was a professional. A consumate professional, even. Able to set aside all kinds of personal opinions when they got in the way of her ability to follow her calling. But, ah. There were times when she struggled just a bit. Years ago, she remembered keenly, the young woman had been a witness to one of the (many) big and small arguments she had had with Makarov over the years . . . and truly, the healer could not say that she regretted this very much.

Still, she would not bring it up. Instead, she folded her hands in front of her on the table and nodded at the knight. "You're here for a checkup for your eye then, yes?" she asked instead.

Venturing into Magnolia was something that she did not do often, but she was expecting a package at the post office. The old mailman had been attuned enough to nature to brave the forest and deliver packages and letters to her mailbox---that already was quite a bit away from her cottage. She swallowed. Her neighbour used to check her mailbox for her now and then and bring her her mail when he came over to tell her about his newest adventures. But he was away, now. And she worried, he had been so distraught when they had last met. Flooded with concern as she was, she was distracted---distracted enough not to notice the purple-haired girl, but not too distracted to actually bump into her; Porlyusica's reflexes kicked in and she pivoted at the last moment, her dark red cloak flaring dramatically.

(Really, she scolded herself, she needed to focus more.)