#lore!!

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“Why do we have to keep walking?” Harekit whined, trudging after Fogfreckle with his head thrown back for maximum volume. The kit was dragging his paws, creating furrows in the snow. “We’ve walked so much. My paws hurt!”

Moonstar’s paws ached with cold, her pads tough and worn from moons of traveling, but you didn’t hear her complaining. Knowing that Harekit was a kitten should have summoned at least a little bit of grace within Moonstar, but she was rather too irritated with the way Harekit’s voice bounced off of the snow-buried rocks around them.

Let’s talk about Citrines and Ametrines! First of, let’s talk about gems. I wanted to keep that same skull shape that’s so iconic from Murder Drones, but give it a Gem twist. At the same time, I needed a way to make Uzi’s gem different than everyone else’s, aside from color.

The simplest solution was just that I squash it. Since Ametrine is meant to be a mix of Amethyst and Citrine, I decided to combine the shapes of a typical Amethyst with the shape of a Citrine. Hence, why Uzi’s gem is just as short as her.

You might have noticed also that Uzi’s gem is a swirly of color. This is because I was trying to mimic the look of raw Ametrine, which has swirls of Citrine across it.

Here’s a great example of this! (Pulled directly from the Ametrine Wikipedia page https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ametrine)

Now, let’s talk abilities!

Citrines have a couple of main abilities. One of their main ones is that, similar to Peridot, they can levitate stuff. Namely, themselves. Aside from their gem weapons, Citrine can summon metallic blades to use as wings, allowing them the power of flight. They also can on and off summon their visors so they don’t get gunk in their eyes :P

"Enough! Just because I saw my family today doth not mean you needs remind me who my loyalty is towards!" I scream at an empty room. My chambers feel hollow as ever... And yet something hungry keeps me warm... is it... lust? I have been ravished ever since I was left without my memories... of it... Why am I so hungry? Can I not just simply be fulfilled without recourse? No.

"LEAVE ME ALONE-" I scream but no one answers... I had spent the day with the Bouvilles, my mother's family all day. My good-brother Ser Pate de Brancy was rather... raucous today, something about how he does not wish to serve as "babysitting duties" during the festivals... Lady Bouville is... as she always is. Getting older. "SILENCE." Getting harsher. "ENOUGH." She reminds you every day that you are yet to be wed. I'm speaking to the deaf however. How you will never be enough Mortimer.

I must... retire myself from these pestilent thoughts, however, what can I think of. How she used to strike you when you were a boy? How she made you loathe any and all those but your family. How somehow she was worse than father? You know he lives inside too. We have yet to pull that celebratory reunion yet... but we can, and we will. Nay... Nay... leave me be spirits... Leave my wounded soul to rest...

"How dare you ruin your father's name by kissing that page, have you no shame?!" Her voice, I fear her voice, I fear the day she dies and she joins you. She will. If not in blood she was certainly more the Caldwell in spirit than you'll ever be.

I cannot leave my mind. How do I leave my mind when it is all I have? And yet even in this place, this desperate sanctuary of mine do I have ghosts claiming and dragging me back to hell where all Caldwells are born and sure to end up when they die... Our actions upon this earth do no matter for they are momentary glimpses between two crashing waves, collide, and demolish all in their wake. Yet yours could be eternal. You doth know that in troth Mortimer~

This voice was different... somehow... kinder? Than the rest. And yet even the simple thought that there were distinctions between them very rarely crossed the Barons mind... and yet she? It... one of them who very rarely spoke had done so. And with the complete clarity of not the entirety, but of a single focused conscious. "Who are you?"

Doth it matter? In troth I'm one of them, but also one of you. A freer you. It's voice was sweet. Thoroughly too sweet. And that's what sent my heartbeat plummet... none of it was particularly kind, nor soft spoken. But this was drenched in honey... topped with sugar... something was not right here. Nay I do not need comfort, I need silence... for five minutes... please my lady. That hunger. While everyone else will tell you it was me, was in troth living inside all of them... I was a Queen... I had my own throne built from the one of mine own father. Sure, the scholars called me a whore, but that's what monks do, they describe a woman succeeding at any means necessary and call it the sinful temptations of Devils and Demonics... You wish to claim more than you have, if anything indeed you have... Nay I am happy with what I have. And yet you have nothing, dear. Nay, I have my... I have Helm.. Yet everyone around you, including it, tells you that you deserve more, why not take it? Why not have it? B-because I am happy. Are you? Skulking around your own castle as if you are not Lord and Master of this place. I... I.. You are of my blood, and as such I shall teach you ... if only you let me in, let me guide your hand, and I will show you...

You can have everything you've ever wanted, everything you've ever deserved, and in the end you don't even have to lose your fine metal pet... in fact it will feel useful to be something other than the star of attention. But first... you must read...

[The book is old. Fine to the touch, and delicate of rotting away at any moment. Bound in black leather, and upon its face an ornamental decoration of the House's sigils over the years. Caldwell is one of many upon its face, but only one. Now it sits neatly in my hands. Pages are ripped, burned, cracked, and left in some cases completely torn from the codex itself. But in my hands there are some pages where the ink is still legible.]

My people came to this land. When it was not but hills, forests, and rivers. The Yeoman of these lands had no single name for the lands where we buried their ashen remains. Where once was land of wood and dirt become a place of stone and brick. One by one the lands were felled for all those who spoke the Pagan tongue were but a distant memory. This is where my clan sired their heirs and seized destiny by the throat and proclaimed “Pro Rege, Diis, et Patria,” the Corinian saying “For King, Gods, and Country.”

...

Bloodhaven, nor even Caldwell, were always the seat of this ancient house, for indeed there was another, Vimont, ancestral seat of House Vimonts. The citadel was established by Airard I ‘the Builder,’ who is also the progenitor of the family’s other surname FitzAirard. Who in his own lifetime saw the construction of Vimont, as well as the start of construction of the castle at Bloodhaven, known originally as Airard’s Keep. However, Airard’s time quickly came and went and after 30 years the just King, first of his name, builder of cities, and starter of dynasties died. Leading to the reign of his second son Ancel, also first of his name, he was King…

[The book tears and cracks under the light touch of human contact, it’s almost as if some secrets do not concern the viewership of mortal eyes… almost like book was not written for the living.]

as they grew to be teens, butch couldn’t help but imagine these gestures in a romantic way, themselves as a gentleman and annabelle as the lovely lady they’d been lucky enough to catch the eye of. they went out of their way to hold the door for her, even if she didn’t see the romantic angle they fantasized about

annabelle started to notice the ways butch acted differently and if she suspected their feelings, butch never clued in. she would occasionally call them a gentleman with a twinkle in her eye, unknowingly stoking the flames in their chest, and often earning an exaggerated kiss across the knuckles to which she would play swoon

not many others their age lived nearby and none either were as close with as each other, but butch always assumed annabelle was just being friendly, that they disguised their feelings well and that she was a very affectionate friend

one day, like many they’d had before and many they would have again, as annabelle and butch parted ways at the parkers’ fence, annabelle turned back and ran briskly towards butch. leaning over the fence, she pulled them swiftly into a hug, eagerly reciprocated, if a bit surprised. just as they were about to open their mouth to ask why such a dramatic fairwell, annabelle squeezed them a bit tighter and pressed her face closer, folding a gentle kiss in the crook of their neck, before swiftly letting go and waving a casual goodbye

A young, frail looking girl. She’s curious, and is…a people watcher. Like the feeling you’re being watched with no one there…that’s her..

She isn’t necessarily dangerous, but between fight or flight, she’s choosing fight.

She can (temporarily) block certain parts of a person’s memory, though she can’t decide what part. More often than not, it’s a traumatizing event she blocks out.

She looks awfully familiar though..

did Himari choose to forget her face like a pathetic coward? Is she that too afraid to confront what she did? How could someone forget their own precious sister’s face?

Like that's actual lore

Random idea I thought of,

Where while Soren’s “mother” was slowly dying, with the little energy she had left she would try to reach Soren’s mind and communicate through her dreams, helping her daughter grow up to try to live and be independent without the physical guidance of her mom (she doesn’t even show up in Soren’s dreams, she just speaks to her).