spicykvnt

The Elder Scrolls: After the Calamity

Name: Caeliana
Age: 26
Race: Imperial
Gender: Female
Birth Sign: The Warrior

Appearance:

Hider

Caeliana often seems to have an expression on her face which suggests that she is about to laugh at something she shouldn’t be laughing at. A strange way to start to describe someone, but considering that she, in any other situation, is a fearsome warrior, it’s important to first and foremost note her outward friendliness and insatiable curiosity. It is worn on her face, her hunger for knowledge is placed in her emerald green eyes as a twinkle, and her desire for justice is seen when her brows furrow across the almond shaped orbs and she almost scowls. Almost.

She is typically Imperial in appearance, her skin tanned despite it never having seen the sun, and her hair is a raven black - falling in soft, unkempt waves over her shoulders and to her collarbone. Her face is strong and angular like a true Imperial’s is, with a strong nose and jawline that are complemented by high cheekbones and her feminine lips, curved at the corners. When she smiles, her mouth stretches from ear to ear and a dimple appears in each cheek. Despite having ever so slightly bucked teeth, it does not stop her from displaying her teeth when she smiles.

She does not belong in the world in which she was born. Unlike the others around her, she does not carry a heaviness on her shoulders. She walks with a light and balletic grace - her footsteps soft and not dragging. Caeliana stands tall at 5’8”, her head and shoulders held high and not slumped over. Her body is built with solid muscle from years and years of relentless training as a Gladiator for Wulfharth Backbreaker. Many of the scars and injuries she received as a Gladiator were mended with restorative magic, and as such save for a few that got away, her body is relatively scar free. There is only one scar that did not heal, a burn traveling the outside length of her left forearm.

She looks to the stars, not into the gutter. The world is crumbling - or so she has heard, and all she wants is to learn. While everyone around her follows their orders and dares not step out of line, Caeliana pushes her luck. Smiling as often as she can, and finding laughter in dark places.

Skills:

Highly Proficient: One-Handed

Moderately Proficient: Block, Marksman, Alteration

Somewhat Proficient: Illusion, Heavy Armour, Speech

Spells: Stoneflesh, Telekinesis, Detect Life, Calm, Courage, Clairvoyance

Equipment:

Steel Longsword: A seemingly unremarkable sword. Forged and made in the same fashion as the rest of the Gladiator swords. The only unique aspect of the sword is the leather strapping she applied herself to the hilt for a better grip. It falls into a tassel at the pommel, and has select beads woven into it.

Steel Hoplite Shield: A mid-sized and slightly concaved shield with the Windhelm emblem painted onto the steel. Made especially for Caeliana after she showed aptitude for Telekinesis. The round shapes lends well to being thrown about the battlefield.

Hunting Knife: Doesn’t everyone have one of these? Caeliana’s is a simple iron knife, strapped to her thigh for use in emergency. A relic of times gone by. She has never left Windhelm to go hunting, so she does not know how well such a knife would take a pelt from an animal. It brings her comfort to have it regardless.

Steel Armour: It is not a full suit of armour, but instead covers the chest, shoulders, and the outside of her thighs. Underneath the armour she wears blood red linen breeches and a red cotton jersey. Over the top of the armour she wears a heavy black cloak lined with with the fur of a bear across the shoulders. Steel boots to the knee complete the look. As a prized Gladiator of Windhelm, this is her uniform.

Pendant Necklace: Her only real possession, and thus her most prized. A necklace with a star shaped pendant on a gold chain. Perhaps an insight to her parentage, or of her family's past in Cyrodiil.

Satchel: Within her satchel she keeps a journal, as well as a quill and ink. She uses it very sparingly, as ink can be hard to come by. There is a single silver earring that she kept floating around the bottom. It was found on the outside of Windhelm, she keeps it to remind her that there was once life outside of the walls.

Potions/Medical Supplies: Carries a small health and magicka potion, as well as a roll of bandages in case of emergencies.

Torch: Never goes out without one.

Misc:
Is deeply fascinated by anything from the ‘Outside World’ and has a secret stash somewhere of goods that she’s managed to get her hands on.
Asks questions near constantly, and her curiosity has often gotten her in trouble.
Is an avid reader.
Is scared of complete darkness, and so will always sleep by a hearthfire where possible.
Has never ventured outside of Windhelm.

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

I will see about getting my reply in when I finish work :)

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

That was an unexpected laugh this morning @BCTheEntity

Seeking 1 x 1 Partners - Open

Hola mis amores!

---

I'm looking for committed roleplay partners for small, long term games.

The Important Stuff

Level: I write at an advanced level - please go check out my profile for any of my posts in my current roleplays if that helps you! I would expect a partner to also write at least at a similar level to me. For the sake of maintaining momentum I am happy to accept 3-5 paragraph posts.

Post Frequency: Look, life happens and life/work etc is always more important than RPG - but I am looking for people who can commit to our project for a long time. If you can only post once a week or once a fortnight, that's fine by me - let's just make that clear and set expectations that work for the both of us from the start.

Romance: I love writing romance, it's fantastic! That said, it has to be about characters for me - I'm not a fan of written in love interests and I prefer to see chemistry play out before committing in game to romance. Things have to happen naturally. I'm more of a fade to black kind of writer too, but I'm not averse to writing some light smut if it's important ;o

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Why am I looking? Well - I guess because I'm a poor GM, but I love writing rich stories with lots of characters and world building. I love crafting a story, planning, and executing great ideas into fantastic writing. :) If you're like this too, and are interested in rolling as more than one character, playing as NPC's, and developing a story from beginning to end - then get in touch, either here or by PM :)

If you are looking for an adventure - I'm your gal :)

---

EDIT: 21/05/20
Looking for partners again. Have removed some genres/fandoms.
Please PM or poke me in the thread. Thanks!

Please only advanced.

Genres:
Science Fiction
Science Fantasy
High Fantasy

Fandoms:
The Witcher
The Elder Scrolls

Mass Effect: Sinless

Kesir Apartment, Presidium Commons, The Citadel
Several days ago...

---

No matter what was happening that day, no matter how urgent a task seemed to be - there was first time for a morning routine. There was always enough time to set aside to properly prepare. The lilac skinned Asari stepped out into the lounge room of her Citadel apartment, the soft carpet under her bare feet was a familiar comfort, the carpet had not been changed for over 286 years, and yet it was still almost as pristine as the first day it was placed, just a few scuffs here and there, and a distinct dip where it had been worn down underfoot in the doorway. Still, these were the things that Naryxa appreciated.

She appreciated that, while she often felt restless and wanted to move on to a new vocation or activity - her father’s apartment was always the same and had been since she was a child. The very same terrarium was built into the wall between the lounge and kitchen, it just had different plants in it from time to time. Such a home would be incomprehensible to most races in the galaxy. That the very same statue that was placed there in 1876 by the famed Salarian biologist Gurok Teran was still in the same spot that he had placed it all those years ago for decoration - incomprehensible. But these were very minor in the grand scheme of things, but to Naryxa, her apartment represented an anchor and constant that kept her grounded.

She pushed open a window, to take a few moments to breath in the early morning air with a smile before flicking a switch on the wall. The terrarium lit up, and mist shot into it from sprinklers fitted into its ceiling. She made her way with soft steps to her bedroom, the sliding door hissing quietly as it pulled open to allow Naryxa through. She turned the blinds open - natural light filtering through into the room as she sat cross legged on the floor and closed her eyes. Meditation was the perfect way to begin a day, and allow a clear mind and relaxed body.

The Asari allowed herself an extra hour this morning for her practice. She would be away from The Citadel for a while, and when that was the case she would take time to appreciate her surroundings. She opened her eyes and twisted herself into the first of many positions she would get into, bare skin soaking in the light from the window. It was freeing, and there would most certainly be no naked yoga for her in Omega.

---

Afterlife Nightclub, Omega
Several nights ago...

“Didn’t expect to see you here tonight, Nair…” came the sultry voice of a Drell from the bar. He had one arm resting against the surface - the other at his side holding a glass.

“Dransu, a pleasure to see you again,” Naryxa replied with a smile as she sat herself down into the seat, turning just enough so that the alien could catch a glimpse of her physique - of her bare skin where the dress allowed it, most notable her back and shoulders. She could tell he was looking.

“Pretty sure the pleasure will be all mine if I play my cards right, never can tell with you.” He sidled closer and took the empty seat beside her, the aggressive strobe lights of the nightclub flashing off his gold and blue complexion. “What are you doing out in Omega anyway?” He motioned with his finger to the Asari behind the bar, “a drink for my friend here,” he said as she placed both elbows on the surface of the bar, interlacing his fingers.

“Was hoping to find a job or two - maybe you could help a girl out,” Naryxa said coyly as she took the glass from the barmaid and shot a smile in Dransu’s direction. He did look very dashing in his casual attire, she had to resist thinking about how good it would look draped over furniture and thrown around a room. “Don’t play the innocent flirt now,” he laughed as he moved closer to her, tempted to trace a finger down her spine. His fingers locked tighter. “I might know of something, whispers on the wind and all that…”

Naryxa sipped from her glass, the stones of her dress shimmering with every subtle movement she made. “I wanted to get away for a bit, from The Citadel. I miss travelling with people, you know?” she remarked with a sigh, moving her finger back and forth over the rim of the glass. “It’s been a bit lonely since, well…” Her head tilted to the side as she felt herself reflecting on the events of the last year. “Truthfully, publishing articles isn’t exactly raking in the credits either.” She hated to admit it, but in times of strife and unrest, academia was just not as important or revered. What had happened to The Citadel had caused an unsettling kind of trouble.

“Mmmm, wouldn’t know anything about that. Always been a rogue living in the underbelly of society,” Dransu scoffed - taking back the last dregs of his drink. “Must be nice to have the opportunities to flitter around like you do.” There was an almost bitter quality to his voice, but Naryxa paid it no mind, and instead had his glass topped up. “That’s your charm though isn’t it?” she tapped the rim of her glass to his, “so, about that whisper on the wind…”

He clicked his tongue at her, shaking his head with a sigh “look for a Volus with a coffee machine.” He watched her face suddenly change to show a confused expression, at which point he smirked again, a breathy chuckle following. “That’s all the whispers allow me to know.”

“I suppose that'll do, how hard can he be to find?”

"So, you gonna join me for a dance to say thanks?" He had finally lifted his hand from the bar top, and was weighing up the consequences in his mind of touching her. As it happened, any consequence would be worth it and he smoothly ran his finger softly down the Asari's spine, resting his palm flat against the small of her back. His eyes had narrowed and his lips curled to a flirtatious smile. She looked at him with a warm expression - he was a good companion of hers, and since she had known him she had found it hard to deny him anything. "Well, I did come to Afterlife to dance, I don't get dressed like this to sit at the bar all night."

With that, they headed over to the dancefloor together. Tonight, she would enjoy herself - tomorrow she had a coffee machine to hunt down.

The Elder Scrolls: Vengeance of the Deep

Listen

---

As the sun began its slow, lingering ascent of the day, she watched with a sense of wonder as liquid gold spilled across the very edge of the horizon and bled out as far as her eyes could track it. The intensity of the red set fire to the pools of water that were her own eyes and cast an orange aura around her, painting her the colour of marigolds. With the breeze running through her hair, and her gaze so intense toward something out there, she almost let herself slip away and briefly forgot her reason for seeking out such a beautifully lonely spot.

She took her time in standing up, reflecting on the conversation she had just had with Zaveed - rather, the conversation he had forced upon her. The way that, even when she had demanded he listen, he had still seen fit to talk at her. His bold assumption that their encounters had connected them on enough of a level that he somehow knew her better than she knew herself, and thus would save her from the madness that he had put there. To absolve himself of his own guilt perhaps? When would someone just listen to her?

She did not feel better.

His inability to cease his tongue only served to remind her that nobody cared anymore, if they even had in the first place. What happened to her was the news of yesterday now. He was not someone she wanted to know or be around, but for whatever reason and for whatever purpose, they were stuck together now. She could either avoid him and slither to the fringes of the group to put as much distance between them as possible, or she could rise above it and carry on - ignoring his presence.

If such a few short experiences of suffering had caused her to be so angry, then what would years of it do? But she realised that even a stone could be worn down with enough rain, and that a mind troubled by doubt and pain could not focus on victory. Would she ever flee the misery within herself? She could no sooner stop herself from feeling sadness and sorrow than she could stop herself from taking in the scent of flowers that were freshly picked and arranged in a vase in front of her.

She was not a patient woman, it had never suited her to be that way. It was her mother that remarked that she and her father were like water and the sea, ever changing and moving - unable to stop. This was unlike Roxada who had the stillness of the earth itself in her personality, as if she were a tree firmly rooted into the ground. She was stubborn and unmoving when she needed to be but kind and patient about it. Roxada’s temper flared from her maternal instinct. Raelynn’s temper was flared by the obstacles in her path. Right now, Zaveed being here to remind her of the misery she had endured was an obstacle that, like water, she would have to find a way around.

She continued through the mouth of the cave, and somehow her throat swallowed back something, it pushed down a knot of emotion that there was no room left on her face to display. People were waking up now to the day as dawn broke through and brought the intense warmth with it. All at once, she realised that she had been, for so long posturing for a crowd. When in fact all that was there was a strip of emptiness and nobody to hear her.

The events of the days gone by strangely brought to mind a very old song that her father used to sing to she and her mother, that his own mother had sung to him when he was a child, the lyrics somewhat questionable in nature were to be sung in what Salosoix had thought to be a dialectical derivative of Ayleidoon. Whether that was true or not beggared belief, she had even wondered if it was all just made up. It certainly sounded somewhat like a language of Mer - the way the consonants fell softly from the lips. She just knew the sound of the words and their meaning when strung together.

What mattered was that she knew this song, and it’s meaning. Nobody else would.

As her bare feet met the cold stone once more, she filled her lungs with the breath required to perform her song and began in a clear voice - soft and delicate. It resonated around the walls of the chasm that was their current sanctuary. Clear as crystal and effortlessly pleasant, she carried her song with her to the pool of water central in the Oasis, picking up an empty jug on her way.

There lives a rare beauty in the North...
She's the finest lady in all of Nirn
A glance from her, a city falls
A second glance leaves nations in ruins
There is no city or nation that has been
More cherished than a beauty like she.

The lyrics felt indecorate to her now, and she thought of Gilane - of plumes of smoke towering above the palace. Of the clash of the chandelier above Rourken’s head, the look of shock and fury she had on her face after seeing Raelynn materialise before her eyes just as she was about to have her way with Gregor and defeat him. She stole that opportunity from her bare hands with her very presence. And yet, the song was beautiful. An almost haunting melody that echoed and reverberated around the oasis as if it were now her own arena.

She filled the jug with the freshwater from the waterfall, a smile on her face as she did so, her eyes alight with a secret joy. This was the catharsis she had needed, there she was - singing in poetry an almost confession of her misdeeds and it rang out as something beautiful and as smooth as the silk of her blouse, flowing like the water of the springs...

There lives a rare beauty in the North...
She's the finest lady in all of Nirn
With her eyes like vast oceans
At her will, a province drowns
There is no province in all of Nirn,
More cherished than a beauty like she.

As she reached the final verse, she thought of Gregor and the fiery nature he would be trying to suppress right now while keeping his secret under the veil of his shadow in the company of their party. Dreams and quests could be such dangerous things: they smoldered like fire, and sometimes those very flames reach levels in which they consume all… She looked over at him as he went about his morning business, continuing to sing. She was emboldened further by him as she reached the climax of her secret song.

Lyrics aside, it felt… Nice to do this.

There lives a rare beauty in the North...
She's the finest lady in all of Nirn
She wields fire and flame in her heart
In her grip the world will burn
There is no world in Oblivion,
More cherished than a beauty like she.

She pictured her lover, adorned in his battledress - an army of undead to the left and right of him in the palace of Gilane. The great lengths he had gone to keep his promise to her. What else would await them? What else would they burn, drown, and ruin together? With that thought came an almost contrasting vision of the two of them together in peace - away from all of this, away from the troubles that had been hunting them down. No cave floor to sleep on, but a comfortable bed by a generous hearthfire. Paintings hung on the wall - it was a beautiful but modest room - just one of many in a beautiful home in some slumbering town on the outskirts of the busy cities. It was just theirs.

There was to be no soul trapping, no torture - nobody stopping them or frightening them or threatening them. Just Gregor and Raelynn.

That would be the victory on which she would focus.

It occurred to her then, as she stood by the waterfall that when a stone is dropped into a pond, the water would continue quivering from its weight even after it had touched the bottom. Whatever the struggles she would face, and whatever they would both accomplish - after time all suffering would eventually fall from them. The ripples would cease, and the stone would be just that - a single stone at the bottom of a vast pond.

All of a sudden, she felt better again.

The Elder Scrolls: Vengeance of the Deep

On a Bed of Green Blades

with @Hank

---

Late afternoon, 14th of Midyear, 4E208
The Oasis, Alik’r Desert, Hammerfell

Gregor had quickly changed out of his black clothes and into his linens before they had set off into the desert. Even so, beads of sweat dripped down his face and his white shirt clung to his muscular torso, the thin fabric turning somewhat transparent, showing off the vague black shapes of his tattoos to everyone that looked at him. He had never experienced heat like this before. It was grueling. Still exhausted from fighting his way into, and out of, the palace, and being struck in the chest by Rourken’s lightning magic, it took all of Gregor’s willpower not to fall asleep in the saddle. His relief was immeasurable when they reached the underground oasis and he made sure to give Shakti and Mazrah a grateful smile and a pat on the back before he quenched his thirst and made himself comfortable on the soft, lichen-covered ground. He closed his eyes and a long sigh escaped him. Everything hurt. Whether it was because Raelynn’s ointment had started to wear off or because the thunderbolt that hit him had reawakened the pain in his muscles Gregor couldn’t tell. Either way, it was rough.

He had spent the entire journey so far boring his gaze into Zaveed’s back. Seeing the Khajiit again and having Daro’Vasora tell him that they were supposedly allies -- if only for the time being -- would have certainly driven Gregor to immense fury, if he hadn’t been so drained. Even in his current state, the insufferable wink that Zaveed had given him when their eyes locked for the first time after their fight in the alley had almost made Gregor reach for his claymore to take another one of his cat-lives then and there. It was the pain in his shoulder and a small voice in the back of his mind that yelled at him to control himself that had stopped him. Raelynn had chosen to spare Zaveed’s life. It was not up to him to undo that decision anymore. He was simply going to have to suffer their presence.

When Gregor opened his eyes again they met the glacial blue gaze of his lover, Raelynn, the color of her eyes more vibrant than ever in the golden light of the desert sun. They remained still, just looking at each other, until Gregor eventually cracked a smile. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” His voice was hoarse and and he cleared his throat, mildly alarmed at how weak he sounded.

Unlike Gregor, Raelynn had not spoken a word to anyone, nor made eye contact with a soul. She had too much on her mind to give thought to them all. So Zaveed was here? Wonderful. It was simply fabulous to have been asked about it, she had thought. After that, she didn't think about him anymore. If she was exhausted then she did not show it for even one second, and remained perched upright and graceful for the ride to their camp behind Gregor, her hands against his sides comfortably.

She had gathered what she could on their way out, and her sword was now affixed to her back in a simple leather harness that was bound across her chest. Her hair had remained immaculately styled despite the whirlwind of action, her skin was kissed with a bronze glow. She relished in how good she still looked, especially as the others looked like they'd trekked through the desert as they each had. The black eyeliner had smudged only just, but it concealed the exhaustion sitting under her eyes.

She had silently placed the bag containing Daro'Vasora's belongings at the place she had pitched her tent before returning to her own, removing her own belongings to gather them, as if keeping a mental inventory. She felt tense and full of emotions and thoughts that, like her belongings, she was cataloguing inside her mind. She would go through each one individually and in order when the time was right.

Gregor's gaze was soft, and in turn it softened her just enough to smile down at him as he lay back against the grass as one would do on a summer's day in a bright and vast meadow, a breeze carrying all worries away. This however, was no meadow, as evidenced by the constant sound of chatter and the pattering of feet. So many feet. Raelynn sighed as she looked out at them all, a knot forming in her stomach. She had been living alone for a while, in quiet solitude and isolation and she was now thrust back into the fray.

“Because I can,” she said, almost playfully, in response to Gregor. If she just focussed on him - everyone else wasn't there, and there was silence again.

“Fair,” Gregor replied and his smile widened. “You look so beautiful. How do you do it? I feel like I’m dying in this heat.”

“Born with it, or something like that,” she said in almost a whisper as her lips curled to a smile. She turned back to what she had been doing. “It's…” she began, her eyes tracking the perimeter of the camp, “I don’t know actually, nevermind.”

There it was. The weight on Raelynn’s shoulders that Gregor had been worried he would see. Any number of things could be on her mind, but he decided to surprise her with the least likely thing she probably expected to hear from him. “I’m sorry about Alim,” he said softly. “I hope we can get him back soon.”

Her eyebrows drooped at the mention of him, and she simply exhaled a quiet ”hmmmm” sound. The last time that she had been genuinely happy in Gilane had been dancing in the streets with her friend. The very same afternoon that she had been taken. “He's smart,” Raelynn uttered softly, “he'll be fine.” There was a finality to it that made it clear she wasn't willing to talk too much about it.

“Very true.” Gregor knew Raelynn well enough to pick up on the tone of her voice and he looked away, thinking about what to say. The urge to cheer Raelynn up was stronger than the simmering anger and disappointment that he felt himself and he chuckled when he became aware of the fact. It had been a long time since he had put the needs of another before his own so subconsciously.

He dropped his voice, making sure that nobody could overhear them. “Did you notice the way you-know-who reacted to seeing that clean-shaven officer, and what she said about me taking him from her? I think that was her… lover, or something,” Gregor said and his eyes narrowed with the glint of satisfaction. “She lives, but we hurt her where it counts.”

She smirked. The black dress made by her mother held up in front of her, she shook it free of sand, using it as a veil to hide her expression from anyone who may glance over at the two of them. The knot loosened and was replaced with a familiar feeling of longing, an almost pleasurable squeeze around her waist. Her thighs twitched. “I watched the whole thing, I saw her every reaction to you,” she breathed softly. Her eyes glimmered with something.

The breathy quality of her whisper and the look in her eyes stirred a familiar sensation within Gregor and he smirked, his pulse quickening. Even if the outcome wasn’t ideal, what they had done had been undeniably thrilling. “And was it to your satisfaction?” he asked in an equally soft voice, cocking his head slightly to the side.

“I hadn't realised you were that…” she paused deliberately, letting him hang for a moment and she bit down on her lower lip to provide him with something purposefully visual. “Powerful.” Raelynn raised the tone of her voice to a girlish coo, releasing her lip from her teeth with a smirk. “Now I've seen… Everything that you are.” She placed the dress in front of her, folding it with great care before turning to Gregor, her mouth slightly open as she gazed down at him. To anyone who happened to glance over it would appear as an innocently affectionate exchange as she placed a finger under his chin, practically mouthing the words to him; “yes, I'm satisfied…”

Gregor propped himself up, placed his hands -- the hands of a killer, but now so very gentle -- on her hips and pulled her a little closer. He could practically feel her words soothe the storm inside of him. “When you stood between me and her,” he murmured, remembering the scene in his mind’s eye, the way he had looked up at her from his crumpled position on the floor, “you were the brightest star in the sky. I love you, Raelynn. I really, really do.”

She had never really paid much mind to his compliments, but the way he had said it caught her off guard this time and she gasped sharply, relaxing against him, her guard slipping down. Everyone had come to save the Khajiit on this day, but Gregor had fought for her, and had kept his word. It was all she needed, just him. “I…” she began, blinking at him, she had so much she wanted to say and there were so many things that had to be done right now, but the moment they were sharing together allowed her to escape that dreadful feeling of urgency. “Thank you,” were the words. “For keeping your promise.” The way that she had said it, the way she felt it leave her body was akin to rain after a drought. It was barely a sentence, but it was the most sincere display of gratefulness she had made in her life.

“Of course,” he whispered. Gregor wrapped his arms around Raelynn, one hand resting on her lower back and the other on her neck, and kissed her slowly and softly. The deep sincerity of her gratitude made it all worth it. Beneath all the cruelty and the violence that had become a part of him during his quest, this is who Gregor felt he really was. Raelynn could bring out the darkest side of him but it was during moments like this that she made him feel more human than anything else could. It was deeply moving and Gregor closed his eyes, holding on to Raelynn tightly, breathing in her scent and feeling her body against his. “I am yours and you are mine.”

Raelynn moved her own arms around him too, placing her head against his neck. She kissed him there before sighing contentedly, tempted to close her eyes and drift off to sleep in his arms like that. It was the sound of an iron pot hitting stone somewhere in the distance that pulled her from the moment, a crashing reminder they were not alone. The Breton peeled herself away slowly, planting another kiss on Gregor's cheek with a smile before returning once more to her task. “I think I took for granted having all that space to ourselves…” She remarked, removing several books from her last bag of belongings.

Content to merely watch, Gregor hummed in agreement. He had significantly less belongings than she did and there was nothing more for him to do after he’d dumped his backpack on the ground. “I never expected to see them again either,” Gregor said and it was clear who he meant from the tone of his voice. “How…” he began, unsure of whether or not this was a wise subject to broach, but he pressed ahead anyway. “How do you feel about it?”

Her skin crawled at the very mention and she flinched in disgust. It was hard to put into words how she felt, maybe it was easier to start with another promise - one that had been broken. “After I… After I saved his life I walked away,” Raelynn began, her voice was no longer as hushed - as if she was daring Zaveed himself to pry; “but I turned back and I don't know what came over me. I threw his face to the ground and told him that he would never come to any of us again.” Even thinking about it made her blood run hot like venom, her lips pursed. “So to see him now so blatantly and arrogantly flaunting himself-” she cut herself off and slammed down a book onto the pile of clothing, both hands flat against the cover.

“I know,” Gregor said, his face grim. “I almost admire his audacity. He winked at me when we locked eyes. Can you believe that?” He was silent for a few seconds before continuing. “However, he’s apparently working to recover that Redguard woman’s brother from the Dwemer. You gave him a second chance at life. If that is true, it would seem that he is putting it to good use. It’s…” Gregor sighed and looked around the oasis, searching for words, fiddling with his trembling fingers. His scars ached. “It almost defies belief, truth be told. Do you believe any of it?”

“He conveniently finds a woman with a sob story to endear himself to the rest of us, yet can't resist… Can't resist doing things like that.” Gregor was right, she had given him a second chance but that was not sitting so well with her now that he was sitting somewhere nearby. “It makes me uncomfortable that he is here. It wounds me that it was Daro'Vasora and Latro who rolled out their red carpet.” Her jaw clenched and she grimaced at the thought, her hands relaxing back into her lap as she looked down at Gregor, her voice resonant and louder still, “I don't want him anywhere near me, and if he so much as looks at me I will remove one of his eyes for the trouble.”

“I shall be sure to tell him that,” Gregor grinned. “I’m going over to talk to him later. I hate unfinished business, and he knows things about me he wasn’t supposed to survive learning. Can’t have him running his mouth.”

Discussing the Khajiit had incensed her, she wanted to bite back at Gregor for suggesting that he would talk to Zaveed, but she reigned herself back from the edge, she took a long and deep breath. “Discuss what you must, if that is what it is then it's your business - don't even give him an ounce of the satisfaction he so craves by saying my name.” Her tone had been overly sharp and she knew it, “I'm sorry… I just want nothing to do with him Gregor. Finish the business and close that chapter.”

The venom in Raelynn’s voice made him blink. That said, he was relieved to hear it. A small part of him had been worried that Raelynn’s decision to save Zaveed’s life was motivated by… well, something other than what she’d told him. It was good to see her so decisively eliminate any notion of that. “Very well, I’ll leave you out of it,” he said, his voice soft to show that he had taken no offense. “If it were entirely up to me, I wouldn’t even exchange any words with him, I’d just cut him down where he stands. But that is not a choice for me to make anymore.” Gregor looked at Raelynn closely. He wanted to see how she reacted to that.

She felt an unusual swell of… sentiment? No, something else, inside of her that caught her off guard enough to bring a lump to her throat, seemingly from nowhere. “Nor is it mine…” she croaked, feeling tears form under her eyes. “Why does he get to be here? Why is he here and Alim is not? Why are we making ourselves at home around them? How could Daro'Vasora… Latro?” She sidled to Gregor and wrapped her arms around his neck, slightly surprised at her own display of emotions. She caught her breath again and attempted to steady herself. Perhaps this was the exhaustion of the day and the dust having settled on the excitement of it all. “I just don't want anything, or anyone to come between us anymore.” Her hand found the nape of his neck as it always did and she curled the shortest hairs that had fallen free from his topknot around her finger, breathing slowly. “This is just… Not what we were supposed to come back to,” she sobbed quietly against his neck.

How could they was a question that Gregor could answer. He was pragmatic enough that he understood the decision Daro’Vasora had made. Sevari, Zaveed and Sirine had valuable supplies with them and they were both after something inside the Dwemer desert prison. Their Khajiit leader had suppressed her own trauma to see the big picture. Gregor admired it, but with Raelynn sobbing against him he could not help but feel that it hadn’t been worth it. Either way, Gregor knew that the cold, hard facts weren’t what Raelynn needed to hear right now. He kissed her forehead and held her close while thinking of a way to say what he wanted to say more tactfully. “Hush, my love. It’s unfair, I know, and I hate it as much as you do. Daro’Vasora did not think about you when she made this decision. But she did not even think about herself. She’s doing what leaders do: thinking about the grand scheme of things. If they can help us break into the prison to retrieve the things we need to end this Dwemer invasion once and for all… that’s all she’s thinking about. It takes a lot of willpower to push everything else aside. Is it right? Not really,” Gregor said softly. “It’s wrong and it’s vile. But sometimes wrong and vile is necessary.”

He hooked a finger below her chin and forced Raelynn to look him in the eyes. “But the most important thing is that you don’t have to fear anything, or anyone, coming between us. Together, we can weather any storm. No matter the depths of depravity this war sends us to, I will be there for you and you will be there for me and that is enough.”

“You're right,” she whispered, nodding as she squashed the tears back down. “You're right,” she repeated again to reassure herself. She would of course share her thoughts with Daro'Vasora in the coming days, but there was more important things to be done before then. The tome of restoration from her father was more of a priority to her than anything else. “I don't know what came over me, I think I'm too tired - I barely slept last night. Maybe I should rest now.” Gregor's presence always allowed her a sense of relief and calm, and she held onto his stare for a moment longer before kissing the tip of his nose tenderly. “Don't leave me alone for too long though, I might miss you.” Her thumb traced from behind his ear and down his neck and she couldn't resist but kiss him one more time.

“Yes, rest,” Gregor said and returned her kisses with conviction. “I shall be back before you know it and then I’ll join you.” The two lovers gently extracted themselves from their embrace and Gregor got to his feet with a grunt, steeling himself for the conversation ahead. He was determined not to give Zaveed the satisfaction of getting a rise out of him.

With long, purposeful strides, he set off.

The Elder Scrolls: Vengeance of the Deep

Imperial City ransacked and made ruins,
I fled in new boots with my familiar in tow,
And then an unfamiliar face came to my side,
Became a friend over time,
A river was crossed in a boat filled with holes,
I felt my robes tear and unravel,
Thread by thread over time - slow.

To a camp with a fire,
Matron by my side,
I cried that night.

A hike to a camp with a young princess,
She was me,
Eyes blue and hair was fair and I carried her in my arms,
To her safety and I should have stayed with her,
Although.

Soldiers weeping for their mothers,
Wounds seeping blood onto wet ground,
The smell of iron and piss and war,
But something else loomed over,
Leather and steel.

Another fire I abandoned,
Silent screams in the night,
Who am I becoming?
The threads continue to pull free.

A golden coast,
The smell of salt and sand,
Alto wine in hand,
I chased the darkness,
Eyes of obsidian I wanted for myself,
My robe was torn from my back.

To the temple to pray,
I rejoice at the sight,
Of a man stooped low,
Denied a blessing,
I bless him instead.

More chaos and madness and I'm thrown to the ocean,
Everything left behind,
The abyss might swallow me,
But there are eyes of coal fixed on me,
I am burning for them.

A reunion and a dinner which I shall never forget,
Finding myself in the embrace of a shadow,
He unravels for me too,
I take the threads and find a place for them,
We become entwined.

The Dwemer dies in our care,
Blood must be given back,
First the Nord,
And then me,
Flesh to steel to wood,
I never leave that room.

My Knight,
He loves me.

A celebration,
But there is nothing to celebrate,
My love tells me things,
Threads unravel again,
Memories of his I wish I could cast into the fire,
A woman like me.

Once again I am taken,
This time I'm not alone,
I fight back,
It's okay if it's not me.

Who am I now?
What is left of me?

Insecurity and fear tug at me once more,
There is little left to give,
A battle between demons,
A dance with death,
I made a mistake,
I pay with everything.

There is nothing left of her,
Something else takes her place,
A maelstrom at Dawn,
His lover,
We fix ourselves,
Tie our limbs in knots through the night.

For my love,
Everything must be done,
I bottle vigour and bravery,
We storm the palace,
I his shadow,
He is not alone.

Threads are gone,
All that remains is me,
Hard as steel,
Fierce as a dragon.

I am not alone.

Raelynn reads her poem back to herself and rolls her eyes, immediately tearing the page free from the journal. She abruptly scrunches it and tosses it into the flames; "fucking stupid."

Mass Effect: Sinless

Naryxa Kesir

Naryxa Kesir

Race: Asari
Gender: Mono-Gendered
Age: 286 - 1898CE
Class: Adept
Homeworld: The Citadel

---

Hider

Appearance:

Naryxa is a typical Asari in appearance, her skin tone is a light and muted lilac, her scalp crests taking a much deeper shade of blue towards the end with the colour applying in a pattern. She has white freckles that frame her forehead, temples, and her cheeks. The strips of freckles help to highlight each individual crest. The same bright freckles travel down the back of her neck and spine. She stands tall and proud at 5'9" and weighs approximately 142lbs.

During her time as a mercenary, Naryxa, like many other young Asari mercenaries, took facial tattoos. The bright red, drastic patterning above her eyebrows is always eye-catching to others, especially so when set against her amber coloured eyes. She chooses to further draw attention to the bold colour by painting her lips in a similar shade. The tribal-like curved style and bold colour choice gives her an overall sensual appearance on her face, and can appear dominating to some. She has no other tattoos or unusual markings, however she does have a scar from a battle in which she took a clipping shot from a Batarian sniper on the outside of her upper right arm.

Naryxa usually radiates a warm glow when she smiles that puts people at ease rather quickly and disarms feelings of hesitation. She carries a sincerity in her smile that so many Asari do. That said, her demeanour can quickly shift from that to something more stern when something has displeased her.

She has a full and voluptuous feminine figure that years of dancing has given her. When not in armour, Naryxa wears light and loose fitting clothing - opting for a blend of comfort, fashion, and functionality. She likes clothing that allows her to stretch during yoga. She is not particularly vain and is relaxed about her appearance. She doesn't feel the need to be overly vain, and pays no attention to whether or not a garment is expensive. The only exception to this is when she goes out at night, she will wear heavy eye make-up, bright lipsticks, and revealing dresses.

---

Psychological Profile:

One could say that there are two sides to Naryxa - a human friend once lamented that the Asari must be a Gemini. Truthfully, she just keeps a very balanced approach to life. While working on a task, in the field and on missions, she is calm under pressure, methodical and organised. She absolutely requires her strong work ethic to be reciprocated by those she works with, and acts with dedication using a direct and honest manner of communication. Growing up with a Salarian father meant that she, from early childhood, has been used to working at an extremely fast pace. This has served her well, as she is able to think on the fly and make logical decisions at the drop of a hat. She has a strong dislike of any kind of incompetence, dishonesty, and laziness from subordinates or people that she works with, and she will make her displeasure known.

She believes that order must be followed in order for the best outcomes in any situation, and she does her best to adhere to that, putting business first. While very professional in her work - and unafraid to say what must be said, Naryxa is rarely vindictive or mean, and is especially pragmatic and constructive.

Then there is the true side to the Asari - the yin to the yang! Many (usually non-Asari) find Naryxa to be aloof upon first impression, this is merely a byproduct of her age and maturity - past the initial serious surface is a warm and caring individual, who is nurturing and gentle towards those around her. She will often have sage words of wisdom and advice for those she grows close to, speaking in poetic metaphors. When in conversation, Naryxa listens with an intensity and enjoys making people feel special and heard. She tries to view all experiences with a gratefulness - even if it takes her some introspective thinking to reach that point.

Despite teaching in meditation and mindfulness - she is not without her own faults and weaknesses, and sometimes finds trouble in managing her own emotions. She can be prone to suffering temporary moments of depression and deep sadness but can usually overcome this by spending time alone and re-energising herself. Failure affects her, and she has a tendency to carry the burden of failure on her shoulders alone, such a strong need for perfection and order is just part of what makes her take it harder when things aren’t perfect, often blaming herself. Naryxa is a great networker who enjoys meeting others, but has strong opinions against nepotism, and is likely to clash with anyone who takes shortcuts through life.

Having such an ambitious personality, and a constant need for improvement makes her restless from time to time. Because of this she is prone to acting on impulse as a way to feed her desires and need for change. She can get bored easily, and has little patience for a lot of activities that are enjoyed by others - such as board games and movies. She will occasionally try to enjoy such activities as a means of bonding with others, but it's really just not her style, and she's at peace with that.

She can be passionate and geeky when it comes to certain subjects, like her scientific studies and she will definitely lecture her peers about plants if given any opportunity to. Whether this is annoying or endearing remains to be seen, but she always does so with a smile on her face and with an infectious spirit that is rare to pull from within her in any other way. She has a slight ditzy-ness about her that has given her an unintentional sense of humour.

She is incredibly open when it comes to matters of companionship - and has been accused of being overly flirtatious and promiscuous (impulsive tendencies) more than once. She is simply like many Asari, a free spirit who enjoys the pleasures of the flesh, the chase, and connecting with others in as many ways as she can. She is not ashamed of this side of her personality, and while she is not openly lewd and deliberately raunchy with her colleagues, she doesn't feel the need to lie about or hide her enjoyment of nocturnal activities. Naryxa will very rarely engage in these spontaneous activities with colleagues, unless there is a deeper connection there - stating that she would rather not complicate her work environment with no-strings sex; explaining in a far less poetic manner, "don't shit where you eat."

---

Equipment:

M-5 Phalanx

Preferred weapon of choice

M-15 Vindicator

Tends to use less, and would rather a pistol. Uses when in a tight skirmish and needs fast fire.

Magenta Asari light armour

Abilities:

Singularity
Pull
Shockwave
Nova
Passive - Barrier

---

Background:

Naryxa was born in 1898 to an Asari councilwoman, Vaessa Kesir, and a Salarian plant biologist male, Gurok Teran. Naryxa was closest to her father, living with him for her first 22 years, until he passed away at the age of 41. This was not to say that Naryxa did not also love and spend time with her mother. Quite the opposite, she loved her mother deeply but understood that her mother’s position on the council was important, particularly with the ongoing difficulties with the Geth and Quarians that was beginning during the early years of her childhood. Vaessa worked hard during her Matriarch years at the Citadel, and Gurok’s scientific work happened to have brought him to the Citadel - where for the sake of his daughter, he chose to live out his elder years. Teaching Naryxa about plant biology, the planets in the Milky Way, and of planet geography and weather patterns. All of the knowledge that her father gave her, has served her well throughout her entire life.

Saddened by her father’s death, at 22, Naryxa finally left the Citadel on an adventure of her own. Her father had created a dossier for her, listing some of the most beautiful and remarkable plants in the galaxy that could be found on different planets. Armed with the dossier and her mother’s approval, Naryxa jumped from ship-to-ship, hitchhiking her way through the galaxy to see each plant on the list.

Every so often, a plant that she would tick off would unlock a video from her father with a message about the plant, and some words of affirmation for his daughter. Many of his metaphors and words of wisdom are ones that she repeats to herself and others in difficult times. Suddenly, this journey with the dossier became a pilgrimage of sorts - and at each stop, Naryxa found herself engaging with the communities and people, developing, learning, and educating. Spreading her father’s research to the furthest reaches. After 9 and a half years, and 885 plants had been ticked off, Naryxa’s journey was done. Her father had planned out this journey for his daughter, so that she may have more years with him - and more memories that he could never have given her during his short life.

Naryxa then returned to the Citadel, and began working on scientific papers about her journey. For a while, this sustained her, but soon she found herself growing bored and wishing for a new adventure to embark on. Strangely, she found herself drawn, as many Maiden Asari do, to become an exotic dancer - to break free from the shackles of society and live out a life of social interaction on the fringes. So she did this, much to Vaessa’s chagrin. She danced her way around the Milky Way for over 80 years. She saw people come and go, friendships grow and flourish and then wither away almost just as quickly. It was during these years that she indulged in her first romantic relationship with another Asari, Valeen.

Their relationship lasted over 30 years, before Valeen’s lack of ambition seemed to put a wedge between the two. Naryxa was growing bored again, looking for something new - but Valeen enjoyed dancing too much to give it up. Surprisingly, the pair split in an amicable fashion - neither party sad and melancholic over the end of the relationship, but instead grateful and appreciative of the time they had spent together. After all, for many in the Galaxy, a relationship spanning 30 years was practically a lifetime. Naryxa once again found herself back at the Citadel. It was almost like the Citadel was the starting point for each chapter in her life.

She reached out to her mother for advice - who, finally ready to instill her own wisdom to her daughter, suggested that now would be a good time for her to start putting more effort into studying and honing her biotic prowess, commenting that Naryxa came from a good line of strong biotics, while also lamenting her strong disappointment that it was something Naryxa had not really dedicated any time to so far in her life.

So, off Naryxa went to Thessia, to finally dedicate herself full time to train under Matriarchs in Biotics. She found it off-putting and embarrassing that so many of her fellow students were younger than her - practically babies. What made her more uncomfortable was how little they seemed to care, how they were so disorganised and unwilling to follow rules. To make her mother proud, she did it. She studied, and studied, and practiced for many years. Naryxa’s natural talent and determination meant that she mastered the arts relatively quickly - excelling with her Singularity and Pull. The Matriarchs were happy to give her a small role in mentoring younger Asari in the basics. During this time, she taught the young Asari to meditate and tried to teach them to be graceful and elegant, and in methods to calm their emotions. When they had had their fill of that, she took to teaching them about plants, geography, and weather patterns, using her father’s dossier of course. She made sure that the new ‘students’ of biotics were whipped into shape. She developed a little bit of a reputation for being bossy... And she actually quite liked it.

Once more, as had happened before, Naryxa grew bored and tired and longed for something else. Now armed with her powerful biotics, she jumped at the chance to work as a mercenary. She spent years traveling with her unit of Asari commandos, working her way up the ranks. The thrill of battle was exciting, and leading others filled her with satisfaction - but still her ambition was sitting in her chest - bringing her discomfort. There had to be something more than this in the galaxy.

The year was now 2125CE, she had reached the age of 227 in what felt like a heartbeat, her life already so colourful and full of experiences. She received a communication from her mother, that she would be traveling as a council ambassador to Parnack to open diplomatic contact with the yahg. This contact did not go as was planned by the council, and Vaessa was just one of the Ambassadors who perished in the conflict. As Asari do, Naryxa was able to look at her mother's passing without being too overcome with pain, to think too long on what had happened only brought her distress - to imagine her mother being brutally slaughtered was not how she wanted her to be remembered. Her mother had led a long and beautiful life, had achieved her goals and ambitions in life, and had been an important fixture of the Asari council throughout her Matriarch years. Vaessa had successfully passed on that zest for success to her only daughter.

Now completely parent-less, Naryxa continued her work with her unit until around 2174CE, where she retreated back to the Citadel following an injury she had sustained in the field. It had been a mission like any other, they were out in the far reaches taking down a rogue Batarian slave gang that had attacked a human colony, and all was going well. She and her team of fellow Asari had gotten into the field, and were scoping out the surroundings when one of her comrades was taken out by a sniper. The Asari in question was a young Maiden - who had been foolish enough to step out into an open area, but the shot was still a surprise to the team. A group of Batarians, including a Rocket Soldier, the Sniper, and several Shock Troopers came down upon the unit - releasing varren in the field to draw out the Asari. The group were able to push back with biotic barriers and eventually took the group out. Naryxa took a shot from the sniper which was thankfully, non-fatal, but the bullet did clip through her right arm quite viciously.

Her unit made it out, fractured and frightened, but they cleared it and completed the mission. The slaves were freed and brought to the Citadel for medical treatment. The mission deeply shook Naryxa's confidence in battle, and she began to display symptoms of PTSD. Suffering with recurring nightmares of the event frequently, and she was experiencing pains in her arm. Even in everyday life she was not without stress, loud clashes and sounds would frighten her, and she would suffer from panic attacks. During this time of recovery, she chose to stay away from mercenary missions, and the familiar comfort of researching and studying in labs - as well as more frequent meditation and the study of Yoga was enough to help her manage the condition. Slowly over time she began to heal.

It was at this time in her life that she was hoping for a quiet period of reflection, and so she chose to delve back into her scientific pursuits. Naryxa began researching the effects of biotic boosting narcotics (red sand - and others) alongside the Citadel’s medical scientists. While working here, she met a human Doctor, Aaron Swan - with whom she began a purely sexual relationship. She hadn't encountered or formed many deep connections with humans and he was truly enthralled by her, something which brought her a lot of joy. Their 'friends with benefits' arrangement lasted a number of months until it seemed that Aaron was growing more fond of her than she was of him, and she had to break off the tryst to save making their workplace awkward and uncomfortable for themselves and their colleagues.

In 2183CE, of course, Sovereign attacked the Citadel - and Naryxa’s home was all but destroyed in the process, she later found out that Aaron and many of her friends had been killed in the conflict. This time, unlike the other deaths she had witnessed in her life, there was certainly something different. Before, death was either a natural end of life (like her father) or a tragedy (her mother), but this - this was a needless violence that went beyond tragedy. It was as if the people were just fodder to a power greater than she could imagine. For the first time, Naryxa truly feared for her own life - that such chaos could be brought to The Citadel - her safe haven was a terrifying concept to her. She had never before felt unsafe in her own home.

---

Fueled by fear, and her laboratories all but destroyed, Naryxa retreated elsewhere on the Citadel, and began writing again and publishing articles on her studies. But for the first time in what has seemed like her whole life, she feels a new kind of unrest within herself which is much less like a natural curiosity, but fear. A fear that plucks away at the PTSD she had thought had healed over time even despite being mostly out of combat. Having lost her people in such a difficult and terrifying time has left her with trust issues, both in others and in herself.

The Asari fled to Omega after learning she was accused of a crime, a crime so terrible it has caused her to be wrongfully exiled from her home - the one place that she loved and has been her constant throughout life. The place where she was raised by her father... The workplace of her respected mother... The whole thing is wrong and casts a shadow over her spirit.

For now, Omega is her home. But she needs answers, she needs to put this right...

---

Strengths:

Biotic force; - a skilled and confident biotic user, there’s very little she can achieve on the battlefield with her array of abilities, and she is strategic in using them too.

Flexible/acrobatic; - years of dancing and more recently, Yoga, has given Naryxa a strong body that can get her out of all kinds of situations, and into some others.

Problem solver/analytical mind; - the fast and ever running mind of a Salarian is written in her, and her sharp eye for detail gives her the ability to solve problems on the fly.

Calm under pressure; - she does not easily crack under pressure. Whether through age and experience, Naryxa’s view on everything gives her a unique perspective in which during stressful situations she remains calm and does not act impulsively. Her PTSD can sometimes waiver this, however.

Good reputation; - Naryxa is known as a dedicated hard-worker, and both of her parents were known figures of their respective fields.

Weaknesses:

Trigger shy; - she’s an Adept, which means while she is comfortable carrying a gun and firing it, it’s not her strong suit, and she is much better utilised for her biotics than for her gun-toting ability.

Lingering PTSD; - more recently, there’s an unrest in her that makes her a touch more unstable than usual, and if she gets scared or fearful that things may not go well she may have emotional outbursts amongst other symptoms.

Close combat is a no-go; - she may be flexible and athletic but will suffer in hand-to-hand, close combat if she isn’t careful. She is not as physically imposing as she would like to believe.

Easily bored; - also known as, the 70-year itch. Ambition was contagious, and Naryxa wants to achieve everything she possibly can which makes it difficult for her to stay in one place for too long.

Overly focused perfectionist; - sometimes she will get far too caught up in the detail and take longer than is necessary with a task to make it ‘perfect’. It is both a hindrance and help.

Where did I leave my thing-a-ma-bob?; - frequently misplaces her belongings and occasionally will lose something of great importance.

Bad reputation;- being openly promiscuous is not looked on highly by everyone and her reputation has a habit of following her around which can put her in bad stead with people from the get-go.

Misc:

She really likes cats. As in she really likes cats and dreams of owning several one day. Until that day, she keeps a folder of over 300 cat images on her own terminal, with a sub-folder 'catsinclothes';
Practices yoga frequently;
Still dances whenever she gets the opportunity;
Prefers to be barefoot whenever possible;
Likes to give nicknames, and uses terms of endearment regularly;
Naryxa has little to no talent with technological/computer sciences. She knows enough to get by, and because of this, she is impressed by those around her who can seemingly bend it to their will and create/improve systems using technology.

Is it overdone? Cliches, popular genres, ect.

You can sense when a writer lacks heart and depth and feeling, and is merely placing the proper pieces in the proper order in the hopes of gaining admiration and acceptance. It's hard to describe exactly what I mean here, and I apologize, because I'm probably failing in conveying what I want to say. To try and summarize; a fantastically-written trope is just as unappealing to me as a great character idea that's poorly executed. I don't want either one.

Besides that, one a cliche goes 'beyond the skeleton', it stops being a cliche.

@GeekFactor

Then in that case it’s simply not captivating writing and falls into the 2nd. There is more to writing than grammar, use of big words, and pacing.