Writer, reader, video game enjoyer

Welcome to my blog where I overanalyze things and scream into the void because I have way too many Thoughts that need to be voiced. My major fandoms right now are Expedition 33 and FFXIV.

Rose's Reflections are my thoughts, ramblings, headcanons, and analyses. Currently, a majority of them are Expedition 33 related.

Rose's Writings are my fanfics. My AO3 profile if you just want to go straight there.

Rose's Rants are, well, my slightly unhinged rants of various topics.

For those who come after are resources and references for myself and others that I find useful.

Lmao are, well, posts that made me laugh.

I've been spending some thought on my Operator and Drifter, both designs and personalities, and wanted to ramble a little bit about them

Ayda is the Operator. She's very empathetic with her Warframes, good at picking up the "traces" of the personalities left behind. She's also very pragmatic, even cold at times, especially since recovering her memories of both the Zariman and the Old War. In her mind, there is no cost too great in order to protect innocent lives; doubly so when they're somebody she cares a great deal about. She's the epitome of "beware the quiet ones". Soft-spoken, withdrawn, introverted, but fiercely determined and Lua help you if you draw her ire.

There is no easy guide to Warframe names, so I used a fantasy name generator and played around with names until I had one I liked - the similarity to "aya" is unintentional. Her appearance has been pretty much the same since I first unlocked her wayyyyy back in 2016 - blacks and blues, with that messy hairstyle. It ends up reflecting her Void connection and personality quite nicely.

Eclipse is my Drifter. Where Ayda is far more skilled at Void manipulation, Eclipse is physically stronger and more agile. Her years in Duviri have taught her to keep her emotions inside and under rigid control, to an almost unhealthy extent. While generally stoic and strong, sometimes odd things will set off her emotions and cause her to lash out or retreat. She has no real connection to the Warframes or the people of the Origin System, but has bonded with the Hex and considers them a part of her own little (dysfunctional) family.

Eclipse as a name works on multiple levels - the sun/sol and moon/lua theming throughout the game, Duality, Teshin's blades... but it also reflects the idea of the Operator and Drifter. An impossibility; night and day overlapping.

They rarely had the time to spend with each other. Between running all over the Origin system trying to keep things from falling apart, cleaning up Entrati’s mess underneath Deimos, dealing with the Void rips around the Zariman, and the weird temporal-Eternalism-paradox-alternate reality stuff that kept them from both existing in the Origin System at the same time, the weirdness that came from interacting with a you-that-wasn’t-you, a “sibling” so very different and yet just alike enough to be uncanny…

Yeah. It made things difficult. But not impossible.

The Zariman was one of the few places they could meet; where Duviri and reality overlapped each other. The Drifter would bring little trinkets and stories of their time with the Hex, Ayda would talk about the Ostrons and the Solaris kids and the people she’d helped and the Warframes she’d reconstructed. When they traded places, the younger girl would slip into Teshin’s cave - the only place in Duviri she could go, she’d tried to go further - and talk to her former mentor for hours on end. But even when they were apart, they’d find little ways to communicate. A note scrawled by Ayda and left by the navigation console. A new set of clothes laid out on the bed. A smiling face scorched into the Orbiter floor (Ordis had grumbled about buffing that out for WEEKS).

Theirs was an odd, distant relationship. But not unpleasantly so.

Today was one of those rare times where the Origin System was (relatively) peaceful, Duviri was calm, and there were no pressing matters to worry about. A quiet day, in more ways than one. Neither were inclined towards exuberance or mindless chatter, but today they found themselves sitting together on the bed with very little to say.

“Why don’t you use our name?”

The Drifter looked down, surprised at the sudden question. “Pardon?”

“Our name. Your name. Kaelli mentioned to me that you told her to call you Drifter and not Ayda.” The younger girl blinked up at her. “Why?”

The Drifter stared at her lap for a long moment. “…I forgot it.” She admitted at last. “For a very long time.”

Ayda sucked in a breath. “Did nobody in Duviri…”

“Not after the executions started.” The older woman hesitated, struggling to find the words. “After I met you, the name wasn’t. It doesn’t feel like mine. Ayda is you, not me. It doesn’t feel… right.” She offered a half-grin. “We both know that I’m not you, and you’re not me. Not anymore.”

Ayda contemplated this for a moment, idly wrapping her hair around her fingers. “We’re not,” she acknowledged, “but you deserve a name too, right?”

“I have one. Drifter. The Hex call me Marty.” She shrugged. “Some weird cultural thing, I guess.”

“Those aren’t names!” The younger girl scowled. “You deserve something of your own, not just - a title.”

The Drifter chewed on that thought. “What would I even call myself?” She asked at last.

The Operator shrugged. “Dunno.” She said flatly. The Drifter almost choked on her laughter. “You should pick one for yourself, or ask your Hex friends to help you.”

“What, no suggestions after that little spiel of yours?”

Ayda smiled innocently. “Valkyr.”

“I am not being named after a Warframe, especially not the screeching ball of rage!”

“Corona. Stardust.”

“No.”

The girl adopted an absolutely shit-eating grin. “Squimbus.”

“Right.” The Drifter stood up. “I think it’s about time I get back to helping the Hex with their problems. And you have Argon to get.”

“Hey!” Ayda pouted. “I HATE going in there for the thousandth time!”

“Your problem, not mine. I have to worry about that stupid Infested music-group-clone-thing.”

“…You’ll think about it though, right?”