I don't think you talk about newest content so it's fine to ignore this if you want but, yesterday I saw a theory that said something about the counting for chapters was changed on JP? And it's proof that 7 ended two updates ago, and now the game is going back to 1? Something about Ace's title? eopfkefkefj yeah this is vague I don't really get it but just if you've heard anything.
Hello hello!! Thank you for this question!
This blog typically pretends that main story content not released on EN does not exist because spoilers are the worst :<
I will do my very best to be vague but just to be safe, minor spoilers (vaguely plot related) under the cut!
I have also come across theories that maybe the story is going backwards now!
I think that is where "Book 7 ended two chapters ago" comes from: two chapters ago on JP the content of the Main Story changed from Diasomnia characters to Ignihyde characters!
While technically we are still in Book 7 of the main story, the content seems to be going in reverse order (further proven by the announcement of Rook's new card 👀), and the theory goes that now that we have "finished" with Book 7 (Diasomnia) and will be going to Book 6, Book 5, etc.!
The "counting for chapters was changed" part is maybe about what happened on JP back when Book 7 began:
Originally the different books were not separated into "chapters" on JP!
They were separated into beginnings, middles and ends, which worked okay when books were shorter.
But then in Book 5 and Book 6 we started getting sections called "Middle Part 1," "Ending Part 1," etc., which was confusing, but it meant that we could still more or less tell how far along we were in the story and when we could expect it to end.
With Book 7, everything changed!
Suddenly we no longer have a "beginning," "middle" and "end"--we have are numbered chapters. The game has broken from its own, linear, "Book 6 -> Book 7 -> Book 8" timeline, and now anything is possible!
And that is not all! We also ran out of dorm uniform cards. Dorm cards were not released until we reached the Book about the dorm in question, and then right after Diasomnia received their dorm cards, they also received Book 7-exclusive cards that seem to be related to the new titles released on both EN and JP:
Ortho's new title for Book 7 and his Cereberus Gear is, for example, Guardian of the Underworld.
The theory says new cards do not have personal stories behind them because the information that would normally be included in these cards has been woven into the main story (which has also been proven true of both Lilia and Sebek). Another part of the game that Book 7 has changed!
It seems that the new titles will each be associated with their own cards, picked up in backwards-order just like the dorm uniform cards were picked up in forwards-order.
And that brings us to Ace's title:
If this theory is true, Heartslabyul is going to be one of the last, if not the very last dorm that we visit. And Ace's new title has been taken directly from the summon line of his dorm uniform: Trump Card of Hearts 👀
But, like most theories, this one is not air-tight!
If we are truly going backwards to pick up all the new cards, then where are Malleus' "Ruler of the Abyss" and Silver's "Knight of Dreams" cards? Aren't we already in Book 6? And if we're already going into Book 5 with Rook, have we already skipped Idia's card for "King of the Underworld"? Are they skipping overblotters for some reason and saving them for later? (Silver's missing card has an entirely separate theory of its own.)
I do not know! :> But I do very much like the theory that we have technically already completed Book 7 (Book 7) content, maybe even Book 7 (Book 6) content, next will be Book 7 (Book 5) content, etc., as the game progresses! ^^ Exciting!
81 notes
·
View notes
a gravitational pull
Summary: Renira goes on a date with a very singular woman.
Content warnings: sensuality/making out (M)
Spoilers: None
Note: Happy Lesbian visibility week! I may not be a lesbian but Ren is and I wanted to write this for ages now but just.. didn't, so here's one for a ship that could've been, but never was. Ft Babymander Nyra.
Renira doesn’t ordinarily meddle with targets that don’t concern her current mission. The Vigil, as far as her orders go, are allies and not people whose secrets she should be focused on. A secret here and there is fine, but there is a line that the agents can’t cross. Not when there’s General Soulkeeper and Warmaster Kernsson on sight as two high ranking officers. The Warmaster, maybe, if she were daring enough to attempt to spy on him again at such a time, but the General?
She cannot risk it; not as a Lightbringer. Not when her squad relies on her in this way.
Yet when Kernsson’s pretty apprentice starts chatting her up and asks her for a date, Renira is all too quick to agree. There is no shortage of pretty women, but there is a shortage of time. Now, after that whole business with Ajax Anvilburn is done with, she can take a break for one evening. It’s nothing serious, after all.
Then again, Renira does wonder if digging up info on your date before you even go out is standard practice for anyone who isn’t of the Whispers. Probably not. Alysannyra Ainsaph’s name has popped up here and there - starting with a file in bold, red letters called the Hero of Shaemoor. She has family here in Ebonhawke. And now, apparently, she has joined the Vigil and bears the title of Crusader.
That’s where she makes herself stop. There need to be conversation topics. She cannot know everything in advance.
“Nice dress, by the way,” Alysannyra says with a slight curve to the ends of her lips. “I see you’re taking cues from the locals.” She then pauses and joins her hands before her. Her lips, full and pink, are slightly parted. “I think it suits you, personally. We’d wear it belted in Rurikton, for the waist emphasis, but it looks good like this, I think. And I think the flower I chose works well with it? As if I’d known!”
Renira takes a deep breath. “Thank you,” she says and accepts the flowers - a vibrant yellow to match the pink of her dress, just as Alysannyra said - and gently holds them in her hand. Then Alysannyra offers her a hand and off on the streets of Ebonhawke they go.
She looks good tonight. They look quite the pair, unintentionally so. The thought makes Renira smile. Nyra looks rather good in the traditional Ascalonian embroidered shirt and a jelek. The shirt is open enough to reveal her collarbones and the tightness of the vest makes her chest look pronounced. Her hair is long and loose, brushed but only barely, alternating between brown, red and blonde in the dying light of day. Her face is bare.
Renira hasn’t seen eyes as blue in a while. Or maybe the lack of romantic attention in recent times finally reared its ugly head. While not that common, blue eyes aren’t exactly a rarity either.
“Your hair changes color in the sunlight,” Renira says, by way of observation. Their footsteps fall in rhythm.
“Only the wisest of men know what my actual hair color is,” Nyra supplies, and lifts her eyebrows. “It has been foretold, certainly, that one who guesses it right will win my hand in marriage.”
“Should I keep looking then?” Renira laughs. She likes the way Nyra talks. The dryness of her humor is refreshing.
“If you like. I like to be looked at. If you guess right, you might get me to pop the question, Ascalonian style.”
“Oh? I assume your heritage allows you for more insight on that particular topic than my few months of living here does?” Renira leans in - rather, down. Nyra’s hair smells of fresh herbs.
Nyra lifts her head to meet her eyes. She holds her gaze. “I could show you, if you’d like,” she says.
Renira hums. “There is time, Nyra.” She masks the extent of the excitement the response leaves in her. Nyra is a woman of the court, and she knows the art of conversation just as well as Renira does, yet not everyone acquires the charm needed to get to be as good as it can be.
No, it’s not charm, not really. It feels like she has something of a gravitational pull that makes Renira unable to look away. The steadiness of her gaze, the warmth of her hand, scent of herbs and a hint of perfume, all coupled with her head held high, tempts Renira to bend down and kiss her then and there. When has she grown attracted to muscle on a woman? That is a new development.
Not that she minds.
Nyra’s smile is lopsided. “Enough time to squeeze a second date in?”
Renira laughs. “Maybe. If I don’t make up my mind by the end of this one.” She pulls her closer. The eye contact breaks when she snakes their fingers tighter together and runs her nails over Nyra’s knuckles. “We aren’t even at the date location yet. The night is young.”
And indeed, the sun has just set. The moon is just peeking through, an invited, observant figure to the chatter of people and their joint hands. By the end of this, Renira thinks, she could have Nyra in her bed if she wanted to. And where would the harm be, if she has a willing participant?
Nyra nods, pink in the face. “That is for you to decide, but in the meantime, I think a delicious meal awaits us.”
And the food is good, admittedly, the kind both humans and charr would enjoy. Well done meat with kajmak, chopped onion that neither of them are touching, reflections of the bright yellow flower in the little rakija bottles. Turns out Nyra isn’t a fan of it. She takes one sip, swallows like a battleworn hero she is, and places it down with all the grace of a woman of the court. Renira downs hers in one chug. Nyra lifts a brow, as if impressed.
And maybe alcohol did lower their inhibitions, but they’re kissing in a dimly lit street later, with Nyra on the tips of her toes and her hands around Renira’s shoulders. She’s a good kisser, it turns out.
“Billiard rooms,” Nyra explains in between kisses. It’s a rather silly high society excuse to stare at people’s asses and steal a kiss.
Renira slides her hands down and squeezes Nyra’s ass. She doesn’t need any overpriced rooms. “Were there any bets?” she asks, curiously. A part of her laughs, almost; is she as cocky as someone like Nyra can afford to be, to place a bet to be the best she’s ever kissed? She doesn’t voice it.
There are many things she hasn’t been able to afford herself. There’s something so very aristocratic about the way Nyra carries herself, the way she grabs attention and stamps her seal all over it. Even now, red in the face, with lips darkened by kissing and lipstick, she knows she looks good, she knows the world should be watching her.
Arrogance, Renira thinks. Arrogance that’s hardly ever faced a pushback. Arrogance that makes her want to fuck her against that very wall, in this very street. What a luxurious thing.
“Nothing that went beyond tongues,” Nyra replies after a thought. “My parents have always been of the old, Ascalonian cut.”
Renira tilts her head and licks at Nyra’s lower lip. “And you?”
Nyra looks visibly distracted for a moment. “I’ve never been to Ebonhawke before,” she says. “Is that good enough?”
“More than enough.” Enough to write in your file later. Tastes divine, is hardly in touch with where her parents came from. Looking to reconnect. Doesn’t care about the way things are done here. She places a kiss on her jaw. Nyra’s nails dig into Renira’s skin. She then kisses lower, to her exposed neck.
Then, she then feels Nyra’s hands pushing her face away from her neck. Just as Renira was about to ask to leave her a little bite. Rude, she thinks and smiles. You arrogant, rude, sexy aristocrat. You just need to be in charge. Did the world see that? Or do you keep these things to yourself?
“I know a place where we can have more privacy,” Nyra says in a voice that doesn’t invite questioning. A command wrapped in a statement, and the quietness of the tone doesn’t take anything away from its force. She slides her hand down so it rests on Renira’s hip. “It’s not that far away. Come.”
She then takes Renira’s hand and goes down the street, lipstick stains on her face and neck be damned. She walks like it all belongs to her, like she’s the queen of the fucking world, with her head held high. Without shame. Arrogant.
Not arrogant. Proud.
It takes Renira a lot to fall in love, but maybe this is a closer thing. Or maybe it’s the rakija, and the kissing, and the moon whispering in her ear, and the Ebonhawke and its pressing history and its proud descendant that’s holding her hand.
Whatever it is, Renira slides into the night with her.
It is, after all, a call she can’t say no to.
20 notes
·
View notes