brightblessed

[brightblessed]

She's right about the cold. Roi grew up in Ala Mhigo then Thanalan. While the nights often grew cold, it was never on the level of this snowy place. He knew that before the calamity, Ishgard was not like this. He often wishes it would have never happened, but the biting chill in the air makes him curse it all the more. No matter what he did, he could not stay warm. Aside from being inside and glued to a fire, nothing helped him. He hated it here.

"This bloody cold will be the death of me." He welcomed a topic easier to digest. The walk to a restaurant would be unpleasant, but at the very least the noise might distract him. So he begins walking, looking over his shoulder to make sure she is following him. "They keep telling me I'll get used to it at least a little bit. But I think they're liars." Even now, he feels like he's shivering. He is not a good actor. The emptiness and the rot is still devouring his heart. But at least he can be distracted for a little bit.

"Perhaps hot tea would be good..."

   Despite that being what most probably see, it is not what she sees. Perhaps it is because she cannot fathom wanting to be considered as such, or perhaps it's because it worries her just how much people rely on him for help while he cannot rely on others for it.

   It does not seem fair, then again, the world never truly was fair. Everything is gained by clawing ones way to the top, some more fortunate than others.

"Very well, I shall. It'll be nice to dodge the cold out there for a little while longer."

   There's no mention of 'joining' or 'staying', feeling as if those may be touchy to mention, or earn an ill response in kind. Perhaps she assumes such since he does not directly ask her, but rather leaves small bits for her to figure out, and while it may be difficult if she is to help, she will at least try as best as she can.

[brightblessed]

When Thancred passes out, terror grips Roi's heart. Loss was one thing he could not handle. He had seen it too many times. Felt the burn and the lingering bitterness. Roi had lost so many people, and some were not as close as Thancred had been to him. But in all of his suffering, rage threatens to seep out. Roi is speechless as he watches Thancred slip under. He had been protecting him. He was so sick of people being hurt protecting him! Why? Why did HE deserve to be protected? He was so strong and yet...

He was silent as they brought him back to camp. Roi was no healer or medic. There was nothing he could do but wait as those that had the knowledge and skill took care of him. Had he become half the man that his uncle Niall was... He could have healed him. But Roi was a destructive force and there was nothing gentle or healing inside of him.

So he waited. Paced. Feeling more desperate and angry. Until he was finally told that he was stable. That so long as the wound did not fester, Thancred would likely recover fine. But Roi could not even find relief in that. A pessimist by nature, Roi could not believe anything positive until he witnessed it.

He stayed nearby for when he woke up. All the while, his sorrow and fear gave way to anger. How DARE he put him in this situation. Roi was the one that was supposed to be hurt, no one else. That was what he was. That was ALL he was. So would would Thancred do that? After all, he should hate him after he failed to protect Minfilia.

So when Thancred finally did start to stir, Roi was ready to start yelling at him. But the flames of rage calmed down a little at the relief.

"Thancred... Are you awake?" He asked quietly.

The warm touch of a hand against his face barely registers, golden eyes glassy and unfocussed as they search his friend's face. The pain throbbing in his shoulder pulls his focus away from proper thought, his face scrunches up, ahlulders line with tension. His head swims with pain, his vision gets dark and blurry at the edges. Thancred fights the overwhelming urge to give in to oblivion, struggling to keep his eyes open, his mind conscious. But despite his best efforts his body slumps harsher into Roi's hold, too weak to keep himself upright, too disoriented to even attempt getting back to his feet.

Delirium has him rasp out a low laugh at Roi's words. "Of course you can..." The words are choked by pain, layered with guilt and tainted by the shadow of selfdoubt that has haunted Thancred since childhood. A low grunt is interspersed between harsh breaths. Gods, the last time he felt like this was back in the First, after the fight with Ran'jit. Once again his body is teetering on the edge between consciousness and the darkness of sleep slowly creeping in, his limbs heavy, his mind weary. Thancred knows if he allows himself to slip under now it may just be the last he ever did, but he feels sluggish, unable to do as much as speek anymore.

His gaze strays behind Roi when a flash of light catches his eyes. A distinct ripple of healing magicks reaches him from afar, strong enough that even Thancred with his skewed aetheric perception can pick out that it is someone readying a powerful spell, but he can't pinpoint the caster in his current state. But it is familiar in a sense, Urianger mayhap, or Alphinaud.

Thancred's vision blurrs further, his consciousness fading fast. Ironically, it is the familiarity that comes with the warmth of a healing spell, or multiple even, that drags him under in the end. The pain that kept him tethered to the present before ebbs away, his muscles relax without him willing them to. For a split second his attention shifts back to Roi, taking in the worry on his face, the despair. He wants to ease it, but can't.

Thancred's lips part in hopes of offering some reassurance, mayhap another apology. But there is no strength left in him to even do as much as grasp a clear thought anymore, let alone put it into words. With the last wisps of consciousness he feels his body lean towards Roi, seeking out warmth in the harsh cold of the Garlean snow, before he gets lowered down to the ground. More warmth of the aetheric kind sweeps him up, easing the biting of the cold, and the throbbing of his wound.

Someone grasps his hand tightly, holds it fast, and Thancred wants to squeeze back, give a sign he appreciates the gesture, but there is nothing he can do when unconsciousness ultimately takes him.

[brightblessed]

Even with the help, walking is difficult. His body was weak with injuries that had not healed or healed properly. His aether had been tampered with. Even his soul felt unwell. He doesn't bother asking for a break. He is used to the Garleans who only forced him into things without regard for him. The other man helping makes a comment. Masha... He swears to remember it. Even if his own memories are hazy, mixed with the memories he was forced into from others.

She says not to strain himself, but he does anyway. He wants to be out of here. Even if it is pointless. Even if it leads to something worse... He wants to believe he can escape. It had been too damn long. He feels his legs giving in, but they don't totally give out until he finally feels the outside air in his lungs.... How long had it been?

He collapses to his knees, the world spinning around him. Will he die here? When escape just seemed within reach. "Sorry I.... I can't...." The corners of his vision darken.

She draws one of his arms over her shoulders, pulling him up and guiding him to rest weight on her if he needs. But there's no denying her size is working against her in this moment, so she shoots a look Thancred's way, and he understands at a glance. His slowed pace becomes him making his way back to her.

"I'd say there must be something special about you for Masha to help you," he says, taking Roi's weight from her, "but that's just the kind of person she is." Masha offers him a proud smile then turns back to Roi—she's heard the roughness of his voice, and it draws a crease between her brows.

"Don't strain yourself," she says, as they start after the others—toward the exit. "We can talk outside."

[brightblessed]

@unrealization (Senah)

It left him in a constant state of anxiety. He kept his eyes downcast. The adventurer's guild accepted his false name. Most of those in charge likely knew who he really was. He suspected they either believed in his innocence or didn't care about his alleged crimes. Or maybe they didn't recognize him at all. He was lucky to blend in, at least. Still, he could feel the eyes of Mother Miounne on him even as he walked away.

This was the safest town for him. It was the easiest place for him to escape back to Ishgard. Ul'Dah was too dangerous. Limsa could go either way. But even deep in the forest, he still felt like everyone was staring.

Part of him wanted the Crystal Braves to find him so he could take out his anger on them. But another part feared he would be captured and give up information that would endanger the people that fled with him. He sat down at the table he was supposed to meet the other person doing this job with. He took a drink from his cup. Just water. He didn't want to take risks.

He wasn't as experienced with a sword as he had been with magic. Fray's lessons were doing him favors, but nothing beat actual combat. His hands still ached from the flames. He would use the pain as strength.

Finally, someone approached the table. A Miqo'te with a staff. This must be his healer. Amber eyes size her up. Even if she didn't look like much, he knew better than to write off a mage. He could already sense the aether around her, even faintly. Mages already seemed to feel a certain way. Or maybe that was just in his head.

"They were adamant that this was at least a two-man job." Roi said quietly. "I take it you're the healer." They had suspected he would need one. It looks like both of them took this job and they were paired together. Roi could take hits due to his new skills... But a healer would be helpful. He just had to keep his distance.

"You can call me Rory. When you're ready to head out, we can go." He wasn't going to bother getting too personal with her. She could state her name or not. He had given her his father's name. It was easy to remember and seeing as how he never met the man, it would hurt him at all to borrow it. Since the idiot died before he was born, at least he could give him one thing useful in life.

[brightblessed]

you know what? Fuck you. *turns your strong and stoic and serious character into a crying, traumatized, whimpering, curled up mess in the floor*

[brightblessed]

Me too

[brightblessed]

// I love how much Roi wants to personally beat the ass of so many people like damn he is honestly meeting new people to hate every single day

[brightblessed]

Force my Muse to Spill their Secrets

🌧- For a heavy, emotional secret

🙃- For a lighter, slightly embarrassing secret

🌟- For a secret wish or desire of theirs

🍏- For something they secretly wish didn’t exist

🍎- For something they secretly wish did exist

❤️- For a secret crush

📲- Talk about someone/something you dislike, but only pretend to like

👁‍🗨- Talk about someone/something you like, but pretend to dislike

🍻- For something bad/mischievous you did as a child or teen that your parents don’t know about

🌜- For a ‘weird’ habit or tic that no one knows about

💃- For a talent that they like to keep hidden from others

🏹- For a talent they wish they had

👻- For something that scares or disturbs them, but they refuse to tell anyone

☢️- For a controversy or scandal they have been able to keep mostly under wraps

🐇- For a secret item they keep (stuffed animal, comfort object, etc)

📒- For a secret journal/diary they keep (Bonus: Share an entry from it!)

📔- For a secret sketchbook they keep (Bonus: Share a sketch or doodle within it!)

🖤- For something they secretly wish they could do with your muse

❓- Free Space! Ask them about a specific secret!

[brightblessed]

“Well well…what have we here? Imperial scum?” Her voice rang out over the clearing as she cocked her head to the side, amusement sparkling in her hazel eyes as she looked the dark-haired male over. “Aren’t you a long way from the safety of Sanbreque? And don’t you look oh so lonely?” she cooed, noting he seemed to be the only one around. A lone scouting mission perhaps? How tragic.

“Where’s the rest of your good-for-nothing brethren?”

"I'm not an imperial." He spit back. "I'm Rosarian." He refused to accept the label of the empire. He wanted to burn the whole thing to the ground. They had killed his family... Enslaved him. Broken him. Forced him to kill. The just hadn't expected him to be so good at it. He hadn't known a free Rosaria either. But it was better than being called an imperial.

"I have no brethren. And Sanbreque isn't safe for me either." He could tell this woman did not mean well for him. So be it... He didn't want to die yet. He had too much left to do.

"What do you want from me?"

(@musehiideaway)

[brightblessed]

@nymfaia said: "It's alright. No reason to be nervous." / Haurchefant!

Roi's breathing hitched. How had he not noticed? Even just sitting here at the Forgotten Knight with Haurchefant, his hands started to tremble. Was he nervous? He hadn't stopped feeling that way since the banquet. Roi had, for a long time, lived in hostile territory before fleeing to Eorzea. Perhaps he had gotten used to feeling safer. But again... He couldn't relax. He hadn't been sleeping. He could barely eat. His burned palms were covered and even though they ached.... The reason he trembled was something else. He was afraid.

"Forgive me." He hated feeling powerless. If it wasn't for Haurchefant.... What would have happened to him? To Alphinaud and Tataru? It felt like it was inevitable for them to be chased down. For this city to believe the lies and turn on them. If that happened, it would cause problems for Haurchefant. He didn't want that. After all... Haurchefant was his friend. One of the only ones he had that he could fully trust. Which is why... Even if he didn't want to... He has to be honest with him.

"I just feel as though... The walls are closing in on me. Like the people here will think I really killed the Sultana and..." Haurchefant didn't doubt him, right...? The very idea felt like it would split him in two.

[brightblessed]

@empyria said: ❝ this world is cold and cruel, and there are few in it who are steadfast. you, i think, are steadfast. ❞

Amber eyes drift to the ground. The world is cold and cruel. He learned that at a young age. While there are good people like Niall, more people put themselves first. More people hurt those weaker than them. There was so much to hate. Roi was so angry at the world. And in turn, it made him just the same. Cold and cruel.

Did she see it? The sort of wicked person he was? It didn't sound like it. He crosses his arms over his chest. It's difficult to respond to her. He doesn't know what to say. After all.... Roi may have his justice to fall back on... But all he was doing was trying to find an excuse to hurt people. To take out his anger on people he deemed deserved it. How was he any better than anyone else?

"The world turned me cold and cruel too, I think." He wasn't a strong person. Not like her or Niall or his mother. People that stayed kind despite the world. He was weak. He folded. "You see that, don't you?"

[brightblessed]

@starlixir said: “ stop fussing— this isn’t my blood. ”

"At least tell me that whoever it does belong to deserved it." Roi had little room to judge people that engaged in violence. But if it was unjustified, he would have to take action.

[brightblessed]

@heirbane said: "I did what was necessary."

Perhaps there was truth to it. Perhaps Gaius was right and there was no other path. But Roi didn't care. When it came down to it, there was a part of him that had never grown up. That terrified child living in Ala Mhigo. That watches fire tear into his village and the life leave his mother's eyes. The Roi standing here knew that there was room for understanding and grace. But that child did not care. Deep in his soul, Roi had not moved on from that moment. Frozen in time forever. The live he lived in that country would never leave him. Even if it had been over 10 years ago that he had reached Eorzea... The scars remained. They faded - yes... But it still burned in him, sparking a fury that would burn and burn until he died.

"Save it for someone who cares." Roi responded. "I don't need your justifications."

[brightblessed]

// feeling kinda exhausted / low rn but i am attempting to do things

[brightblessed]

@sunnybard

The Dragonsong war was coming to an end. Many of the Scions had turned up alive. It wasn't like he hadn't lost things in the time between that banquet and now. He had lost multiple friends. He had lost his skill in magic. Roi had lost far too much already. And the weight crushed him.

Even now, a renowned hero. He took jobs venturing into danger. He was lucky he didn't stand out as much. To this day, most in Eorzea knew him to be a mage. The man with the big sword wasn't who they expected their beloved Warrior of Light to be.

So when he went into battle, he did it alone. There was no pressing need. No reason to do it aside from coin he didn't care about. In truth, Roi craved many things in life. Maybe violence was one of them. Maybe it was the rush that made him stop thinking. Maybe it was a lot of things.

Regardless, he had bit off more than he could chew. It wasn't being outmatched or even outnumbers that did him in. It was exhaustion. He hadn't slept in days. And even the most famous heroes need rest. It was something Roi did not allow himself to do. He hated being alone with himself that long.

But it led to him being sloppy. Which, in turn, led to a rather nasty wild boar that had been terrorizing the area in the Twelveswood to land a rather horrible blow on him with its tusks. They turn into him flesh, digging themselves into his stomach and right side. The pain was met with gritted teeth. And he managed to finish the thing off.

It was only after that when he realized how grave his injuries were. The dark red blood pouring from him and onto the grass. The pain that attacked him and winded him. He choked on it. His head spun. And suddenly he was on the ground. The impact increased the pain and he cried out helplessly.

How pathetic. Not a hero's death. Not that he ever deserved one to begin with. He wasn't too far away from a settlement... But it was still just as likely for him to die. He tried to crawl, but the pain kept him still. He just... needed a moment. He forced himself onto his uninjured side and pressed a hand to the wound. It was bleeding badly. Was this shortness of breath from it or fear? How sad he still feared death.

"I... I have to get up...." He told himself, but his body didn't listen.

[brightblessed]

There was always a bitterness in asking for help. Too often Roi had been overlooked. Looked down upon. As an orphan or a poor refugee. Someone lower than them that they could pity or ridicule. Even when he first started as an adventurer. To be offered help often felt like an insult. To ask for help felt like pulling teeth. It hurt to admit he needed it. To admit he wasn't able to do something on his own. He didn't want to need help. He didn't want to be seen as vulnerable or weak. It felt like a part of him was pried open when he showed weakness, like his ugliness and his true pathetic self would be exposed.

Even just something like this... Not wanting to be alone. He was supposed to be more than this. He was a hero. A weapon. If only he was as cold and unfeeling as a sword. Then he would feel like clawing his own heart out of his chest. He averts his gaze a tiny bit.

"You don't have to wait outside." He couldn't ask her. But at the very least, he could imply. Perhaps his undeserved ego would allow that. "Just eat something too."

He crosses his arms over his chest. Leaving tiny breadcrumbs to lead her to the truth. He hoped she didn't overthink it. That he wasn't seen. He couldn't fall apart. He couldn't be seen as fragile. He would rather die.

   That's the terrible thing about loss, no matter what kind. The desire for what cannot be had often came at full swing, and it was no different here. To make matters worse, it was so delicate to approach. One wrong word or even tone could make all the difference, she knew that far too well considering how often her own mind twisted things for some time.

   For a moment she wants to reach out and place a hand on his shoulder, but she quickly withdrawals it and lets it fall to her side. She wants to help, but it's a matter of whether or not he will let her.

   There's a frown as he confesses, she had a feeling, but simply saying ' I know ' feels like the worst reaction here. Pressing her lips together in a thin line, she's not really sure what to say to that. Perhaps ..

" Well, I'm glad you haven't. I'm not sure if that's worth much coming from me. "

   They weren't exactly close like he was with the other Scions, but there's still a half smile regardless, she does care, and worry for him.

" I am, yes. "

   She, sort of understands what the implication is, or maybe it's an assumption? That he'll eat if she does sort of thing. Though she's not entirely sure. However, in the case that she's wrong ...

" However, if you'd rather me wait outside, I can do that. "

[brightblessed]

it's always so fascinating and heartbreaking when a character in a story is simultaneously idolized and abused. a chosen prophet destined for martyrdom. a child prodigy forced to grow up too fast. a powerful warrior raised as nothing but a weapon. there's just something so uniquely messed up about singing someone's praises whilst destroying them.