(quietly puts on my clown makeup) hello! it's elio (darcy, previously, which is also still fine!) rerunning in your local officers academy with the creature i've excavated from feh book vii. kvasir is taken from some nebulous point post-death but pre-book vii ending cutscene shenanigans. in toa, she's a student under the black eagles house. if you're unfamiliar with her character and don't care about feh story spoilers, you can read some character notes under the cut (and also a copy of the rules page because it is apparently being flagged for some people? :sob:)
kvasir is a goddess of light and seiðr & gullveig's past self. she is killed by seiðr by the end of book vii to end the cycle of the golden seer's curse and prevent the destruction of the world. after her death, she wakes up in fódlan thinking that she has been returned to the past and is eventually enrolled in the officers academy.
she does not know how many cycles have happened. too many, probably. most of her memories from both past cycles and even the present one are relatively foggy (e.g. her lack of memory about meeting the summoner). similarly, though she has some vague recollections of her time as gullveig & seiðr, she cannot recall any of them clearly.
i'm not really going to be touching the time travel aspect of her abilities outside of maybe an occasional drabble and the like for obvious god-modding reasons. that aside, with the curse of the golden seer having been dispelled, kvasir just no longer has the golden serpents. she doesn't actually know this for certain, and she's been scorned by hoping before, so she is excusing the feeling as a difference in realms for the time being. deep down, though, she knows, but she has never been kvasir without seiðr & gullveig as her future so eventually she will have to figure the whole being her own person thing out.
for toa-canon purposes, i am strictly writing kvasir/seiðr/gullveig as kvasir, specifically pulled from the moment following her death. i'm open to writing seiðr & gullveig in aus with some plotting; otherwise, kvasir is my main focus for this blog.
and that should be it! if you'd like to have something clarified, please feel free to let me know and i'll see how i can clear things up for you. i'm excited to write her with everyone!
and here's the rules page very quickly for anyone who wants it haha:
writer — elio, 17, they/he. i also go by the name darcy, which you might have known me by previously and is also still fine! i’m a full-time student so while i will do my best to respond to threads in a timely manner, i do ask for my partners’ patience. if it’s been a bit since i’ve gotten back to you, please feel free to check in! there’s a chance it might have slipped through the cracks.
formatting — the most i’ll really do for formatting is small text. if you prefer for me to refrain or need any other accommodations, just let me know!
communication — if you’d like to talk for whatever reason, you can reach me through a ping in the toa server or tumblr ims. if you prefer discord dms, i don’t mind, but i do request that you ask beforehand because dm notifications tend to make me anxious and i appreciate having the warning.
shipping — i don’t have any strong opinions on shipping and i’m open to it based on chemistry, but it’s not a priority of mine.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Yarne stepped back, rubbing his wrist awkwardly. He hadn’t meant to encroach on someone’s space. It was a habit; he seems someone hurt, he wants to help them. His time in the Shepherds really made him more heroic than he ought to be…
“Ah, uhm, sorry!” Yarne shook his head, trying to put on a smile. “And… you were supposed to eat that herb! they’re healing. I… know it sounds like balderdash, buy Mother taught me all this before… well…” Yarne’s words trailed off, but he shook his head, grounding himself in the present.
“And as for who I am… my name’s Yarne. Last of the Yllisean Taguel. And… my business here is to help!” Or, to try, but the short girl didn’t need to know that much.
“And I… don’t really lie. That’s… not usually good to avoid extinction. So honesty is often safer. Don’t worry… I don’t mean to hurt you. Or anyone here… I don’t want to go extinct, why should they have to?” Yarne sighed to himself, taking in the damage around them… it was not pretty. He had a lot on his plate, it seemed… “And do eat that herb! Don’t make me force it again…” Yarne knew the threat was hollow… but he had a feeling it would be needed.
To help. At this, her hand lowers, though doubt is still written into the lines of her expression. He seems...earnest, she supposes. And she cannot tend to all the wounded by her lonesome.
“I am Kvasir,” she returns in introduction. What a Ylissean Taguel is, exactly, and what had become of the rest of them escapes her, but she does not ask. It is unimportant when there are more pressing matters that need attending to. “If you are truly here to help, then I will not interfere. The mortals here require care beyond what I am able to provide.”
As the stranger— Yarne, she corrects— continues to ramble on about extinction and intention, Kvasir sighs, shaking her head. “You need not worry; I do not believe that humans will go extinct anytime soon,” she says evenly, then glances over her shoulder at the wreckage, “but those here, at least, will soon die without aid.”
She takes a step back, then turns upon her heel to return to the injured. Over her shoulder, she calls, “You will find me to be more resilient than these mortals. If you intend to help, your attention is best turned to them.” Then, a pause at his last words, gaze narrowing as she stops entirely to face him once more and warn, “I tolerated it once, but it would do you well not to lay a hand on me again. We do not have time to waste. I will be fine. Such has long been fated.”
The serpents will prevent it. They care not what harm comes to her, but they will not allow her death. Hopeful, foolish Seiðr must follow. Timeless, cold Gullveig will always be the end.
Yarne had been going on a small venture around the region surrounding the monastery to try and make a mental map of the region - no reason to risk extinction by not being prepared, after all! But, as he finished off his trip, a small basket of herbs he gathered (mostly as snacks to eat while studying), he heard a large, unmistakeable *boom*, and the light... oh Naga, that wasn't good.
Yarne immediately darted to the town, shifting into his beastial form as he raced across the field, his ears flowing in the wind with each slam of his paws on grasses and wheat - he'd worry about the fields after he checked if anyone went extinct.
As he arrived, Yarne shifted back into his human form - armor would be useful if something triggered again. He grabbed up a small set of his herbs - the ones he knew had some medicine in them, and turned a corner... only to run into a small girl... and a hurt one.
"Oh!" He crouched down to her level - it was quite a way down to reach eye level, mostly because he was much taller than most manspawn... or others that looked like them. "You're... you're hurt! Here." Without thinking, Yarne shoved a small leaf of an herb into Kvasir's mouth, and stepped back. "What... what happened here?" He also noticed Kvasir's uniform... looks like he wasn't the only student around to be here for it...
At a glance, it is plain to see that he is not human. Her vision swims as she tries to place his face, head tilting slightly to the side, but...no. It is Gullveig who remembers each and every face and name of the Heroes of Askr. When Kvasir tries to summon the memory— any memory, even, of her other selves— pain slices across her temple.
She is allowed, as always, only a fraction of their memories. Only a fraction of their existences. Kvasir is, as always, only the first of three. Her own existence is her eternal reminder of this truth: that she is always waiting to become Seiðr, and Seiðr always waiting to become Gullveig.
When the stranger crouches, a frown tugs at the corner of her mouth. She is not as chained to a goddess's propriety as her present is, but for another to crouch down simply to speak to her was...
A, “What—” is only half-formed upon her lips in protest before a leaf is abruptly shoved into her mouth. Goddess sputters, the intrusion spat out hastily as a hand raises, magic swirling between her fingertips though she stumbles the step she takes to put more distance between them. Her gaze narrows. An assailant? Was he among those displeased with the mages' presence in the town? His displeasure would be quite misplaced with her.
“I am fine,” Kvasir says stiffly, guarded. “Do not— Do not touch me.” Her hand does not lower, nor does the magic dissipate. “You have not answered my question. Who are you? What business do you have here? You will find it unwise to lie to me.”
Someone - or something - has been disturbing graves in the monastery’s graveyard. The knights are busy with preparations for the monastery’s defenses, and so patrols to the site have not been a priority. If you have some rare free time, would you bring peace back to these departed souls? Then find the culprit, even if it means having to spend the night surrounded by the dead.
@kvasr
Death is not dictated by oral eulogies or ritual prayers in Rigel. It passes, is cleared away, and nothing past that, in her experience. Graveyards terrify her, she may have been to one once in her lifetime.
Once being a part of the dead herself, the scene before her gives her all the more reason to be placed on edge. Rinea has flowers she has cut from a nearby garden, for what reason she does not know. Perhaps she pities those underground to have their rest disturbed. Searching for something, she speculates, virtue, conscience, regret maybe. Would you have knelt there? Or would I be forgotten too? Flowers have no use when they are brown and crumpled.
Just then, a shudder in the desolate burial grounds.
“What was that?” she whispers to no one but herself. Her hand curls to a fist closely guarding where her heart should be. Fear constricts her senses; skin clamps the hair on her arms and back of her neck and her heart hammers against her ribcage desperate to leap out.
Terrors and necro creatures were no foreign concept to her. This knowledge only serves to escalate her fears. On her hip rests a gardener’s knife in a leather scabbard. Her fingers brush against it as she imagines the heavy weight against her fingers and its cool blade diving into whatever monster may lie ahead. Bile crawls up her throat. She hopes it is just some forest animal so she may not have to unsheathe it at all.
Rinea does not wield it nor any weapon for now and begins toward the sound. Quiet is her footfall and careful are her actions as she hides behind whatever provides more shade.
It is neither creature of the night nor woodland animal, but another girl. Thank goodness. She exhales with hardly a sound, returning to her normal, calm self. Though the girl does not get a pass just because she has turned out to be not a skeleton or grimy thing. Brows furrow as she watches from behind the girl's back, trying to decipher what is going on that she cannot see.
“…Pardon me. What are you doing?” she asks finally, voice curious rather than accusatory.
Mortals have countless rituals for death. Kvasir knows none of them.
In endless cycles, she'd not spared a moment to learn. In their war against time, the mortals had no time to grieve their dead. They had never died at all. In the end, all were rewound, time reversed to a point before they existed. In that sense, could you truly call it a ‘death?’
Ironic, she supposes now, leveling the dirt beneath her hands. To say that they had no time, when it was in fact she who robbed them of it. None of them would have been buried like those who rest here. Their destiny was to be unwound, again and again.
Perhaps this is her sorry kind of repentance. In the end, she never wished for them all to meet their ends. Because, in the end...she would be alone. But this is her fate as much as their unmaking was theirs.
At the voice, Kvasir rises, a hand reaching up instinctively to tug the hood so often pulled over her head even lower and shield herself from prying eyes. But it sits around her shoulders now and her hand instead curls around air. It hovers there a beat, then lowers to clutch at it by her neck instead, fingers tangling themselves through the silk.
Pink and gold searches through the night to find the voice's owner, lips pressing into a flat line. The grave she stands at is only halfway righted, dirt still gathered haphazardly around the tombstone. Several others are in similar states. “I...” An exhale. “I only wished to help. Should that, too, be a disturbance, I will take my leave.”
Help, she muses to herself with a scoff. As though she might deign to call it as such when it is entirely self-serving. What kind of goddess seeks to atone? How could she ever, when she is both a world and an eon away from the people she might atone to?
The ghosts she has wronged— they are not here. They are nowhere, save for her memories.
But Kvasir is here, trying to settle them nonetheless. She says, instead, “...and you? Most mortals tend to find the resting places of the dead...unsettling.”
“Please...stop moving. I am not well-practiced in medical care. You are making this difficult.”
The mage grimaces as she tightens her grip on his arm, pink and gold staring into his eyes. “Sorry, sorry. It's just...” He averts his gaze off to the side first, then immediately snaps back to her face, leveling it awkwardly at the top of her head. He has been having trouble keeping his gaze fixed in one place, she noticed, though the unrest is hardly strange. Not everyone had been as fortunate as he. “...can you stop looking at me like that?”
Kvasir blinks, then lowers her head, winding the bandage tighter around skin. “I apologize.” She thought he might prefer eye contact to gazing at corpses, but she will oblige him with neither. “This is all I can do,” she says after a beat of silence. “I fear you will have to wait for a healer or an apothecary...”
He scoffs, shaking his head. “I doubt anyone is coming for us. We weren't exactly popular around here.”
A frown twitches at the corner of her lips. “The monastery seems...philanthropic?” she offers helplessly, then pulls away. “I will tend to the next.”
“Monastery? What, like Garreg Mach? Guess if anyone would come all this way, it would be them.” He catches her wrist as she goes to stand, and Kvasir stiffens. He immediately releases her, smiling awkwardly. “Uh, you should get yourself looked at too. You're going to end up in an even worse state than anyone here if you keep going like that.”
Kvasir shakes her head. “By who? You require rest to recover. I will be fine.” Movement in the corner of her eye catches her attention next, and she turns away to investigate even as the mage continues to protest. “Who goes—” She cuts herself off as she rounds a broken wall and finds herself face-to-face with an unfamiliar face. “Who are you?” she amends. “If you have no business here, I would not linger. It is not safe.”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
hello! i'm looking for a partner for the faith prompt (kvasir is a beagle!) taken now but i'm always happy to offer her up for any beagle prompts if you are in need of one!
the general gist of what i'm looking for is an opportunity to explore kvasir's lack of regard for herself actually having consequences now haha my idea is that kvasir was nearby during the explosion & ended up getting caught up in it and injured. not anything any too serious— and i imagine that as a goddess there's a difference in her pain tolerance compared to regular people anyway— though enough that someone seeing her help the injured mages after the fact will probably go i think you should also be receiving medical care with them??
if you had something you wanted to explore with your muse in relation to the prompt as well, i'm happy to discuss so we can find something that works for the both of us! if you're interested, a ping in plotting is fine as usual :3
as someone who does like book vii as a concept, i think the execution was. um, let's say less than stellar! i feel like this post might read as guy who is used to having way too much information about a character (fe3h muser) going insane picking apart the few lines of dialogue that feh spares its book ocs and that's because that is exactly what this is yeah LMAO i started writing this for myself trying to iron out my portrayal of kvasir, but i thought i'd just throw it to the dash too after how long i was spending on it haha so here we are!
kvasir, the past ✦ “this, too...was decided long ago...”
my real fascination with kvasir's character is how the endless cycles of the curse broke her down into the fatalistic version of her that we meet in book vii. i do believe that at the very beginning of the cycles, kvasir's personality was something more similar to how seiðr is in the present, but that's something i'll expound on a little later.
kvasir acts with little regard for the consequences of her actions or for her own life. she will do whatever it takes to accomplish her mission, single-mindedly focused on it to a severe degree. she does not want to waste time so she runs, but she also resorts to violence to stop her pursuers without hesitation. and despite the fact that she is slowly injured in the process, she presses on regardless. the only reason she stops is because she is forced to, injured to the point that she is physically unable to keep going.
now, she doesn't have to. we see in chapter 13 that gullveig is more than capable of rewinding the time her body experiences to reverse her injuries in literally no time at all and kvasir and seiðr are presumably capable of this as well. we never see kvasir actually wield the power of time in book vii, but we do see seiðr do it, albeit poorly and without much precision. i think if seiðr and gullveig are opposite ends of the spectrum on their mastery over time, kvasir falls somewhere in the middle, but that's an entirely different topic now.
she does this, not particularly because she does not care for her own well-being, but rather because she has never had to care. i do like to think kvasir tried to resist the cycle at first and help the order of heroes like seiðr does in the present, but a majority of her existence would have still been the set of predestined events we see throughout book vii.
despite this seeming lack of regard for herself, kvasir does not actually want to die. but the first time seiðr threatens her with death, she doesn't even react. because she's been here countless times before, and she has never died. she knows alfonse will stop seiðr before she can.
beyond this, as far as kvasir knows, she can't actually die. kvasir, seiðr, and gullveig are unable to kill themselves because the golden serpents will not allow it. they can kill each other, but kvasir already knows that seiðr always fails to kill her and gullveig has no reason to try and kill her. and, i mean, aside from toa rules, there's a reason i'm not going to touch her time abilities at all. namely, if someone has complete control over time then wtf are you supposed to do?? how do you win if your opponent can just go well actually no. like that's beyond godmodding and not fun for anyone in the slightest lmao
getting us back on track, kvasir's purpose is this: inform njorðr of gullveig's existence, then complete the ritual to lose her memories and become seiðr. though she and seiðr are technically the same person, they are, in her own words, still separate beings. essentially, though kvasir's existence will never really end, ‘kvasir’ as we know her is fated to die. she'll forget everything she knows and turn into seiðr, who is still technically her, but only on a physical level. they'll make different memories, develop different ideals, and so on. because of this, what happens to her is unimportant. at this point in time, she is resigned to accept whatever fate awaits her, which is ultimately her non-existence until the cycle begins anew.
she is always going to die and she is always going to be alone. this is the truth kvasir believes about her own existence and the reason she barrels toward the end of her mission without any regard for herself. but there's always going to be this dissonance between how she views her own future as inevitable but everyone else's as something that can be changed because her purpose is literally to change the future.
as i mentioned, the first part of kvasir's mission is to inform njörðr of gullveig's existence. i find it a bit curious how she refers to this as her “changing njörðr's future” when she seems adamant about how the future cannot be changed, but, well. yeah, saying that she is changing njörðr's future is right. if she hadn't gone to see njörðr, then the golden seer would be little more than a legend to him. njörðr's active involvement in seiðr's life is part of what brings about her transformation into gullveig because he guides her toward it. seiðr kills heiðr because he encourages her to, and this results in the golden serpents making her their new vessel, as well as his death at gullveig's hands.
kvasir's adamance isn't about how it's impossible for the future to change. it's about how it's impossible for her future to be changed. when seiðr is trying to convince her of this, her immediate refusal of the notion doesn't stop at changing the future being impossible. she specifically says, “that is not possible. not for me.” because if she just doesn't speak to njörðr, the entire future of the world could change, but she can't choose to do that. her speaking to him is inevitable and unchanging; the golden serpents will not allow her to stray.
but this is not to say that kvasir is just this apathetic and fatalistic being who goes through life waiting for it to reach its fated end. because, as i said at the beginning, i do think that kvasir used to be like seiðr. all we really know is that to become seiðr, kvasir has to erase her memories. if there's anything more to it, we never really learn, but it does seem that the only evident difference between them is their memories.
seiðr, the present ✧ “as long as we hold on to our hope, its light will not fade.”
so seiðr to me is who kvasir used to be in the very beginning before the cycles eroded her hope. she wanted to believe that things could still change— that she could still change. she wanted to believe in a future where they could all live in peace. but seiðr has the luxury of not remembering the countless cycles in which she has tried and failed to thwart their future. kvasir has to live with this knowledge.
but though she loses her hope, kvasir never loses seiðr's empathy and care. in fact, she craves these kinds of relationships with others. she is perfectly capable of— and genuinely wants to— empathize with and help others.
when the order of heroes is thrown into the past, kvasir really has no reason to help the summoner at all. she doesn't appear to have any recollection of them at this point in time, so when they first meet, they're really just a stranger that suddenly appears before her with no explanation. their recovery has no influence on her ability to carry out her mission, but she helps them anyway.
and her motivations for this are a little self-serving, yeah? while kvasir may have lived through countless lifetimes, she is for all intents and purposes still a child. a solitary and lonely child who simply craves connection with others. she admits to helping the summoner because she was alone. in most cycles, the summoner is the first— and probably the only— person she manages to form a relationship with. it's the reason she, seiðr, and gullveig have a special bond with the summoner, though one-sided or not, i'll leave to any future muns to decide.
but i think she would have helped them regardless because kvasir helps them knowing they're still going to leave her anyway. she even knows exactly how long it will take for their friends to find them. in the long run, it probably hurts more to have finally made a connection with someone and lose it, but she helps anyway. she wants to, even if it only ends up hurting her in the end.
anyway i don't know how to make this segue graceful, so let's just jump into talking about kvasir's relationship with the summoner as a result of feh's awkward player pandering.
gullveig, the future ✦ “you are all that remains. time is cruel, isn't it?”
— i wrote this part before mythic gullveig's release where she just flat out says that she loves the summoner so erm. here's a quick addition to this part to say i simply reject this notion LMAO i thought about rewriting this section but i think the point i've made stands regardless
let's just get this one out of the way quickly: if not for njörðr, seiðr would not have broached the topic of creating a child with the summoner with a ten foot pole. she expressly says she's doing it because she must and at njörðr's request, she's fully aware how absurd and personal the request is, and she doesn't even understand why she's asking them. seiðr chooses the summoner because...who else is she supposed to choose. technically speaking, as seiðr, she's known all of the main cast for the same length of time. but they met when she was still kvasir, even if neither of them know that, so seiðr feels closer to them than anyone else.
but i don't think kvasir (i say kvasir but this does apply to all three) is actually in love with the summoner. what i do think is that her relationship with the summoner is the only one she's really had a chance to develop beyond her trying to kill them or them trying to kill her, and she's attached to them as a result. of course she thinks she loves the summoner instead of random npc 312 if they're the only person to have spent time with her and treated her like a normal person. kvasir, that's basic human decency!! i promise other people can also be kind to you.
sorry, i hope this does not come off as me trying to slander the summoner HAHA but i think the context of her affection for them is important when it comes to. well, everything else.
the summoner is always going to be a significant individual in her life whether she's kvasir or seiðr or gullveig. i think that's pretty unquestionable. if nothing else, they were at least the first person she could have called a friend. but kvasir has never known anything else. she has no other relationships that she can compare it to, because she has never properly interacted with anyone else.
i don't think anyone would want to be loved by someone purely because they have no one else, nor do i think kvasir would actually want to love someone simply for the same reason. above all else, i honestly just think she needs friends and some normalcy in her life.
anyway, if you stuck through all this, thanks for reading! as i said, i did start out writing this for myself, so if it's a bit all over the place i apologize and i appreciate you reading what is essentially just my train of thought spilled onto a post. there's a lot that i wish book vii executed better and much more that i could've said that i'll probably remember later, but all's said and done now so i suppose i'll just be the change i want to see in the world haha
Morning sunlight filters through the windows, bathing their table in its glow. The inn they spent the night at is a humble one, small and family-run. Kvasir watched both mother and father cook their meals through the glass in the door to the kitchen, let the children chatter nonsense as they poured their drinks with cheery grins.
It is...warm here. She is unused to it.
“Rosado,” she says between small bites, gold eyes flicking up at her fellow student. “After breakfast...we should depart. Otherwise, we will not—”
“Hey, kid, watch it!” Kvasir's gaze snaps over Rosado's shoulder to a newly occupied table across the room as a man abruptly jabs a finger at a boy's chest. It's one of the children, a pitcher of water clutched to his chest as he stares back with wide eyes. “What do you think you're doing?! You're spilling it all over me!”
“I-I didn't—” the boy stammers, but the man continues yelling about how expensive his tunic was. Kvasir frowns. At most, a few drops might have splashed onto him, but she sees no obvious dampness on his clothing. She glances around, wondering if any other patrons might speak up, but finds that they've all turned their gazes away.
How...ridiculous. Kvasir stands abruptly, chair scratching harshly against the wooden floor as she extends a hand, magic surging to— what? Strike him? Demand his leave? It matters not. Is it not her duty to protect the mortals?
we're nearing the end of the month but here's a quick wanted plots for kvasir. and if you'd like a beagle for any other prompts not listed here, i'm happy to throw her to you for that as well. feel free to reach out through tumblr ims / server ping if you would like to thread!
in part for the reason point, but i think kvasir would have been assigned this mission and while she'll do it, she doesn't particularly...understand? she's not going to grasp the politics of how just letting them be could be bad in the long run. as someone who is used to people wanting to kill her, it seems pretty natural that people want to be able to defend themselves
for the gauntlets prompt, as someone who (1) likes good food & (2) wishes she had a family, let's just say kvasir is Not very pleased at having her meal interrupted or the ruffians' choice of target. she would not know the importance of talking things out if it hit her in the face so violence is her only answer
kvasir has seen the end of the world numerous times— suffice to say, very few things scare her, and spending the night in a graveyard is certainly not one of them. your muse could possibly find her trying to fix the graves in the middle of the night and mistake her as the one disturbing them instead
not a priority but the riding prompt i think is just cute haha aside from the. whole crematory business LMAO but i do not think kvasir would even blink. if it's good ice cream, it's good ice cream what can she say