I think I've hit upon a possible name for this crew: the Lepidoptera Society.

also the OCs I ended up making ended up being a bunch of generally sweet-tempered, close-knit people and I actually... don't see them infighting as much as, say, other revolutionary organizations of note. they have their arguments periodically, but at the end of the day they're there for each other. maybe that'll change if more OCs get added to the stew, but I feel like the actual conflict they face is a sort of existential angst over how small they are, in the grand scope of things. they're a bunch of wickedly talented and extremely plucky people doing their best, but they're still only a small group against the vast economic, societal, and metaphysical forces of the Neath, against the terrible and inevitable march of time itself.

if this was a JRPG, the narrative would let them go on an epic journey, and they would get to punch god and save the universe in one fell swoop - but it isn't. (there's a reason I refer to Rafael as "the Warrior of Light analogue, but in the wrong genre.") like that's certainly not going to stop Dr. Ashveil from trying, but in the meantime, they have to settle with the changes they can make on a smaller scale, and hope against hope that it will, in the end, be enough.

the plan originally: "Dr. Ashveil has no friends. he is continually finding more and more exciting ways to lose himself to his obsession. the closest person he has to a friend is enabling this because it makes the good doctor into a steady source of fun and unique nightmares"

how it's going: "despite his best attempts, the good doctor has friends"

see, I tried to make him miserable. I tried to isolate him so he would become more extreme and obsessive and terrible. instead he's made FRIENDS and is learning to handle his grief CONSTRUCTIVELY, smh

I only have myself to blame considering Rafael, Nathaniel, Lady Lemures, and Nova are all Also my OCs though

the doctor is the kind of healthcare provider the transphobes quake in fear at. the kind where if you tell him you want titties he'll not only say yes but ask how many

just as with the OG SGE!Lucent, Dr. Ashveil is ostensibly cis but it just feels wrong to use that word for him. this is a man who thinks it would be awesome and neat to turn himself into a shambling thing of eyes, mouths, and hands, and he mostly refrains from doing so because it would scare the fuck out of the normies and make it much harder for him to get things done

his attitude towards his gender is a shruggy "yeah, I guess I am a man" with a dash of "believe what you want about me," but the whole "enamoured with the idea of transforming himself in ways that are horrific and taboo to mainstream sensibilities" is the bigger aspect here

every so often the good doctor just casually comments on how it's such a shame that Londoners aren't open to the idea of having more than two arms and hands. think of the added utility! the additional dexterity! surely the tailors at least should be on his side - would this not be a fascinating outlet for their skills?

like it's okay that angels have six limbs but the moment you change those extra two limbs from wings into arms noooo it's "grotesque" and "nightmare-inducing." but wings are just specialized arms?!?! smh