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@erasedstar
time to spill some ink! independent and selective MAELLE of CLAIR OBSCUR: EXPEDITION 33, as sketched by scout. spoilers inevitable, proceed with caution. canon negotiable, crossover / oc / duplicate friendly. important note: maelle is 16, all freaks will be blocked thanks!
carrd • pinterest • prompts ↳ screencap credit: kels. ♥
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when i'm like maybe i can pick at some drafts to get back in the zone, but everything is very heavy and long (and beautiful, btw, yall are great) and i'm like oh no, maybe ur not ready for this again just yet, boss @ self
EXPEDITION 33 CHARM PREORDERS
💫 SHOP + DETAILS
running from 07/05 - 07/19
💫 clear acrylic 2.5 inch double-sided charms
💫 available: sophie, verso, maelle, sciel, gustave, lune, monoco & esquie
💫 made to order + ships internationally
Maelle: “Will you... Tell me your name?” Masked Woman: (Understandable. Have a great day.) *teleports herself along with the manor to another place*
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@ab5olution says, " how are you feeling today ? " /sciel
the question is simple enough. innocent enough. genuine enough. sciel looks at her with warmth in her eyes and an understanding that has her feeling too seen for her liking. she'd rather remain shadowed, unable to be understood. at least, that's what she tells herself. in truth, it scares her. she thinks she's fine until the moment someone asks her and it feels like the weight of everything doubles down again and she isn't sure she remembers how to breathe.
maelle's eyes narrow into slits, a benign warning she has no real intention on acting on.
"i'm fine, sciel. just like the last time you asked me. and just like i'll be when you inevitably ask me again in an hour or so." she tries to sound more sure of herself than she does, but there she isn't unkind. clipped, maybe. cold, yes. unable and unwilling to meet sciel's concern. if she doesn't look at her, she can keep her walls up.
"i think we need to go find more food. if we ration, we may be able to stretch it for a day or so. at least, i think that's what i heard lune saying. you know how she's always planning," maelle tries to make a joke, even tries to laugh for punctuation, but the sound dies as quickly as it starts. "we could send the boys, but i think they'd rather fight anything that moves rather than actually bring anything back. that leaves you and me! what do you say?"
@unhirsch says, " you're upset with me , aren't you ? " / okay but pre - fire normal - ish dessendre family 🥺
try as she might, alicia can't quite wipe the look of guilt that surfaces briefly in her stormy eyes. an inevitable reaction to the way she avoided renoir's question just seconds before and instead remained entirely focused on the blur of words in her book, none of which made sense because she can feel her heart up in her throat and she regrets having a moment of bravery. regardless, she takes in a breath, lifts her gaze to the matching grey set of her father's. it takes everything in her to not immediately look away again, but instead meet him with a lift of her chin and a tiny huff. "... no," she ventures, only a half lie, hands busying themselves by dog-earring a page in her book as she shuts it and sets it atop a small pile accumulating on her desk space. renoir's shadow fills the doorway to her room. "maybe a little. papa, you were needlessly mean to verso. and i just think that maybe— " well, she isn't quite sure what she thinks. not when faced with her father. not when he's looking at her the way he is. not when trying to find her words is difficult enough as is. alicia shrinks in size again, rolling her shoulders before they slump.
what if she makes it worse? she sees how clea and verso both scramble over themselves to meet some impossible line drawn in the sand that alicia herself can't begin to understand. is she meant to be striving for it, too?
was she already failing?
the painting she'd attempted still lay half finished in her mother's atelier. next to clea's latest masterpiece and verso's colorful world.
idly, she bunches and unbunches a ruffle on her sleeve, running the soft material between her fingers. trepidation fills her when she takes in another breath, debating her words. countless many run through her mind, but as is always the case, only a few seem to catch air when she speaks. and when she does, it's quieter. as if she doesn't want anyone outside of her bedroom to hear her. as if perhaps she's afraid to even let her father hear them, too. brow furrowed, she re-focuses her attention. she has to be brave. for her brother.
"— you don't see how sad he looks sometimes, papa?"
i like thinking about maelle with the gestrals because she roasts them and makes jabs at them, but she's so endeared to their ridiculousness and their love of fighting. like yeah, she will rough and tumble with the little ones that can't fight yet and she'll be the little shit that tells them jousting is the same as fighting and they should be allowed to fight. like ykw, yeah, she will wear the gestral hairstyle one day in solidarity with them. i love her and noco. and i love thinking about that stretch of time before she's found at flying waters where she's just going out there with noco and beating up some nevrons and then coming back to the curator like :D you want to train me when i already did tHIS? [points to giant dead nevron] and then gets trained anyway. also, thinking about disaster expedition traveling. maelle will always volunteer to fight the merchant for the best item, even if she doesn't want it herself.
Kaveh Akbar, from “Personal Inventory: Fearless (Temporis Fila)”, Calling a Wolf a Wolf
looked at the gifset of maelle holding gustave's arm and asking if they can bury him again. dying about it again. she looks so so so so soooo tiny and so child-like. it kills me. big brave teenager who tanks damage for her loved ones looking fragile and scared and every bit her age
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the price of belonging to you
Marguerite Duras // white oleander // survival - adult mom // rose brik // Emile Munier // franz kafka // white oleander & charles bukowski // ?
it is going to be a long weird week for me so patience is appreciated. if i'm completely quiet, it's not bc i'm not here and not working on things quietly in the bg. so a head's up too if suddenly the dash is just hit with 9384928394 things from my drafts. the spoons are in questionable amount, but we're tryin! kissing u all on the forehead tho.
@erasedstar sent: you're my friend, i'll never lie to you.
"Really?" Esquie asks. Even though his mask always wears a smile, it seems a little brighter than usual. Maybe he really is smiling in his own way. "I'm very glad that you trust me, Maelle. You are so kind. I know that you would never hurt me."
"really. really, truly." the thought of anyone hurting esquie in any form doesn't sit right with maelle. even if she doubts that anyone could be capable of it. he is, after all, the strongest being in existence. either way, she brandishes a large toothy grin, tilting her head back from where she rests against him. "i wouldn't let anyone else either. they'd meet the pointy end of my fleuret before they could even try." contemplating her next words for only a second, her focus re-centers on those around the campfire. close enough she can hear them speaking, but far enough away that the sound is only a hum. "i don't know how you're always so kind. even when it's difficult to be."
@erasedstar said: flopped dramatically on verso's floor, legs kicked up in the air while she scribbles furiously in her little notepad, alicia frowns. "do you think her being able to slay dragons without the help of knights is ridiculous?" she glances up from her story notes, curious and eager for her brother's reaction. "they're there, too... but she's stronger!"
verso turns his eyes from his piano with a breath of a laugh. good-natured and indulgent. the sheet music he's been scribbling into all but forgotten, collected in one hand, resting atop a crossed leg. he tilts back slightly on his stool and regards her over his shoulder. fond and amused; it's good to see her so passionate about something.
❝ ... it sounds like you already know the answer to your question. what do you need me for? ❞ the upturn of his smile is gentle, infinite in his patience for his sister's dramatics. of which clea would surely blame his influence, anyway.
but she’s here asking his opinion — as she has many times before. ever since he read her her first story. and then, ever since she first picked up the pen for herself. verso can see the gears working behind her fiercely pensive look. so he gives a thoughtful hum, matching her serious look and tapping his pen against his jaw.
❝ well — why wouldn't she be able to? ❞ he queries, instead, earnest and un-pointed. brows arching in light question. ❝ does she have any experience in dragon-slaying? or does she seek to prove herself to her comrades? ❞ his true aim, of course, is allowing alicia the space to explore these prompts for herself. he had every faith she would come to a conclusion that suited her.
verso shifts himself around to face her now, to announce his full attentiveness to her conundrum. pen now turned idly between his fingers as he ponders alicia's story for himself. then, he poses it a different way; ❝ how about... start from the end, and work backwards. will she be fighting the dragon at the very end — or will she fight an even greater foe? ❞
uncertainty and anxiety have a way of unraveling around her brother. he makes her feel as though her ideas aren't frivolous or meaningless. that sometimes things can hold whimsy and still hold value, too. she feels seen, when things feel like weight for her, where others might see it as foolish. posed with his series of questions, alicia sits upright, legs flailed on either side of the notepad that still remains on the floor. the pants she's wearing hike up at the ankles to accommodate her wide, un-ladylike spread as she debates her latest protagonist. victory over having verso's full attention lights her features with a broad smile. not that she isn't content to sit there and work quietly alongside his scribbling and piano playing, she is, but this is an important turning point in her story.
"well," she starts off, sounding near identical to how he had just seconds before. "no. i don't think she does. i think, hm... i think that she believes the most important thing is going to be facing a dragon. but if we're starting at the end, i think she's really fighting herself!"
or is it cliché?
a glimmer of doubt surfaces again, her knees drawn up so she can rest her elbows on them and really stare at her brother. some part of her knows she's being herded into deciding things for herself. she doesn't mind. alicia huffs, "she's been training for this her whole life and feels as though she must prove herself to her companions, but also to herself. is it bad writing, though... to reach the end and feel as if everything she trained for was for nothing? because that isn't even the biggest hurdle you have to face." her face once more scrunches beneath the heavy contemplation. then, swiftly, as though an entirely different train of thought when it's simply another track for the same one. "verso, when you write your music, do you have a story you tell, too? and do you start at the end? i always imagine pictures in my head when you play. i don't think my stories are as ... are as good as yours, though. you make people feel things. even papa, though i know you probably don't believe that." a beat, filled with a sincerity that only child-like innocence might be able to possess. "i want to make people feel like that with things i do. how do you get people to care about what you make?"
me, every day: there will never ever ever ever be a day where alicia doesn't wish she was the one that died and verso got to live and you will never convince her the world wouldn't be better without verso in it. she knows it would.
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wenee pointed out to me last night the similarities btwn the names alicia and aline and wondered if maybe alicia ended up named for her mother in some part. so while crying about this thought alone, i look up the meanings and they both mean the same thing so yk, i love actually dying about this. named after your mama who can't stand to look at you bc you got her favorite child killed. and then to get told constantly that you are your mother when the end is coming near. or have it pointed out to her after the fact in her ending. liiiiiikee..... the mother wound is so so so so deep.
no wonder, even more, she prefers the name maelle once the merging of the two happens.
thinking about maelle stealing grapple hooks from the academy and setting them up around lumière and running around like a little feral cat on the rooftops. probably jumpscares gustave and emma and stuff by literally just dropping in and being like :D she's so funny to me, but then i get sad bc it's like... the whole feeling like lumiere isn't home and she's trapped and there's something else. and there's something about sitting on rooftops thinking about being somewhere else, somewhere you really belong. how much time she spent alone just ... you know, around little abandoned ruined places and stuff.
