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@reapcrbunny // continued.

Hilda's eyes motioned to the Viera before her, she couldn't help but marvel at the way their hands delicately lifted the quiche from its platter and carefully placed it upon their plate. The savory scent of the dish wafted towards her, and she found herself entranced by their every move. Lost in thought, she didn't even realize that her hand had crept over to rest on top of Dahlia's until she felt the texture of their skin beneath her fingertips. As if awakening from a dream, she slowly pulled her hand away, hoping that they hadn't noticed her indiscretion. Trying to play it by ear, she reached for the rum bottle and poured herself another shot, feeling her heart racing as she lifted the glass to her lips. The smooth liquid burned its way down her throat once more, warming her from the inside out.

As she finished the last drop of rum in her glass, a shiver ran down her spine, and she felt a sudden rush of warmth spreading through her body. The fiery liquid had further ignited a flame within her, and she could feel it burning deep within her soul. But as she inspected the glass, she couldn't help but recall that Dahlia had taken a shot from it earlier, and another shudder coursed through her veins. Their lips had indirectly touched and the very thought of it dazzled her. What bliss.

"It's gotta be worth the gil, eh?" 

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going to work on stuff here ty for the patience!

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With little in the way of fanfare or explanation, 𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐀 would find a small red 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐍 cache left in one of her usual haunts.

❝ User 𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐀 registered, ❞ hums a serene robotic voice. ❝ Compiling data and initializing… ❞

With a low mechanical whirring sound, the top of the cube would proceed to unfold and remove itself seemingly of its own accord as though it could sense 𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃's presence, revealing the contents within: a handsomely-filled sack of 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐒, a custom-made long-range rifle constructed from salvaged parts from 𝐀𝐙𝐘𝐒 𝐋𝐋𝐀 (although the gun is far less automatic in nature then the average 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐍 weapon), as well as a covered tureen of soup and a garlic-buttered panini still piping-hot thanks to the container's advanced temperature regulation system. Beneath it all was tucked a hand-written note. Penned in an elegant scrawl of blue ink are the words, Use it well.

Hilda, with her eyes wandering through the wilderness of Azys Lla with certain skypirating folks, stumbled upon an enigmatic Allagan cache. It was as if the object had been waiting for her all along. Well, she deserves it after a long while of walking about with them and so far the endeavor had been fruitless until now. Her heart leaped with wonder and awe, as it's always done so in the face of rare commodities. At the same time, her eyes widened in amazement at the intricate patterns and symbols that adorned its surface, shining in the discomforting light of the skies.

The cache seemed to fit right into her hands, and if she didn't know any better, she'd assume it was crafted in her name. As Hilda reached out to touch the cache, a voice, strange and ominous, echoed through the air, sending shivers down her spine. It seemed to know her and called out to her in a way that made her question the reality of what was happening. She dropped it momentarily in surprise, but the voice continued to speak, a pull towards the object making her pick it up once more in a hurried manner. It was offering her something she couldn't resist, a deep-seated desire within her. What's a woman to do but surrender?

With every unfolding of the cache, it revealed a new mystery, a new wonder, and a new boon, each one more captivating than the last. First, a weighty sack of silver pieces, each intricately crafted with the unmistakable touch of Allag, glinting within. Next, a rifle with refined machinations, a work of art that would make any gunslinger tremble with envy. And yet, the cache had more to offer. Hilda was taken aback when the object presented her with a sumptuous feast, with food that tantalized her taste buds and left her feeling sated and content. The cache knew exactly what she desired, a small meal to satisfy not just her hunger but her soul. 

These Allagan bastards. They're something else, alright.

"Hmm. I won't say no to that."

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Cocks her handgonne.

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The very thought made her imagine herself before an ornate wardrobe. Hilda felt a shiver of revulsion run down her spine. The sight of the sumptuous, high-born dresses within caused her to cringe and recoil, as though they were contaminated with some foul disease. She had never been one to indulge in such feminine attire, always preferring the simple, practical garb that allowed her to move and act freely. The very thought of lacing herself into one of those tight, restricting dresses made her feel trapped. With a shuddering sigh, she covered her face with her hands and let out a low, guttural groan.

The man who had suggested such an outfit for her was surely deserving of a good blast from her trusty handgonne, but she held back, knowing that such an outburst would not be fitting for her. Instead, she gritted her teeth, feeling a wave of anger and frustration rise up within her. Why must ladies be forced to conform to these stifling societal norms, when freedom was so much better? But even as she raged inwardly, there's no avoiding that one of these days, she would not be able to simply dismiss the expectations of those around her. By the Fury, however, she'd fight tooth and nail if it came down to it.

Her delicate hand reached out with a sly grin on her lips and she playfully punched the back of Estinien's knees. The impact was gentle but the message was clear, she did not like him when he's mouthful, leaving her feeling as though death would be a welcome release from the discomfort. Her eyes flickered with annoyance, but her gaze was as sharp as a knife. He should not dare to repeat them again.

"Well, we have to make do without you anyroad." Which was a different ordeal altogether. Even so, she'd like to believe that in spite of their differences, Ishgardians were forged to endure like steel and ever resolute. "Much as I'd like to see the rest of the realm for what it is, I adore it here. You do enough explorin' for you and I both. Hells, for all of us who can’t stand even a moment away from home. Some things have got to be enough."

HILDA.

     Hilda looked down at her hands and tried to reimagine the horrors of late. But the certainty of victory that they all felt when they got rid of them bloody blasphemies, while felt godly and divine, still left bitterness at the back of their tongues, the expected satisfaction no longer in view. Mayhaps, she pondered, they could touch safety once more. But, Hydaelyn is safe now, is it not? No such thing as safety when there’s no danger to once again face. “Oh, cut it. Lady this, Lady that. Those Alliance bastards were irritatin’ enough. You’d do the same to me?” Still said in jest, of course. She didn’t particularly mind nor care. It was better than receiving a new insult to reclaim. “It had been hard, aye. We’ve lost good people. People we can’t take back no more. We did what we could, so did the your lordship.”

         𝐒𝐨 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬  that  have  managed  to  make  their  to  his  hands  regardless  of  what  part  of  the  star  he  was  traversing.  Be  it  Thavnair  or  Old  Sharlayan,  he  could  always  count  on  the  sealed  envelope  waiting  atop  his  belongings  once  he  retired  from  his  travails.  Fire  raining  from  the  heavens,  torment  and  agony  made  manifest  across  the  realm,  ‘tis  a  fool  that  would  believe  Ishgard  for  all  that  it’d  suffered  would  be  given  a  moment’s  reprieve.  Still,  such  knowledge  gave  no  comfort  in  reading  Aymeric’s  brief  description  of  his  dealings  with  this  Profane  Fafnir.  No  doubt  to  spare  him  the  worry  and  unwittingly  making  it  all  the  worse  that  he’d  made  his  way  here  to  Ishgard  once  able.  

                ❝ Aye,  I’ll  continue  in  these  styles  so  long  as  you  continue  to  address  me  by  an  appellation  that  no  longer  applies.  Mayhap  I’ll  look  into  acquiring  you  one  of  those  fancy  dresses  those  highborn  have  taken  a  fancy  to  these  days,  the  ones  with  all  the  frills  and  ribbons.  For  a  certainty  you’d  be  turning  heads  here  and  up  there  in  the  Pillars  as  well. ❞  Levity  in  the  wake  of  more  hardship,  yet  what  else  are  they  to  do.  As  he  has  learned  and  as  he’s  espoused  to  others,  men  and  dragon  alike,  ‘tis  no  use  to  wallow  in  despair.  Yet  guilt  still  rises  as  bile  in  his  throat  and  the  lightness  in  his  heart  vanishes  as  mist  before  the  sun.   ❝ ‘Tis  heartening  to  know  even  when  half  a  world  away,  that  Ishgard  will  stand  so  long  as  there  are  people  like  you  and  the  Lord  Speaker  to  act  as  her  protectors. ❞

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 #WOLFSBRINE ━━━ YOU ARE AT WAR WITH YOURSELF             caught between what you truly are                                                    and what you’re supposed to be.

ind, priv & sel ffxiv original character ━━━ ELDERA WOLFSHEART. howled by fiery.  ©

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Hilda's voice rose above the crowded square, cutting through the air like a sharp, sweet blade. The woman stood proud, her eyes blazing with a fierce determination as she wove her way through the throngs of people. Her friend was at the center of the fray, and within reason, of course, as she gasped for breath. But she was not wont to be cowed by the press of the crowd. With a determined set to her jaw and a flash of fire in her eyes, she pushed and shoved her way forward, her body a living weapon against the jostling, clamoring masses. Her voice rang out like a bell, commanding attention and respect in equal measure.

"Bugger off!" she scowled, her words echoing through. It was a phrase that in the past would have caused the crowd to turn on her, to throw rocks and insults and worse. But now, with the newfound position she had been given in society, her words carried more weight than ever before. The crowd paused for a moment, uncertain and unsure. But as the woman continued to look at them, they understood. Like leaves caught in a sudden gust of wind, they scattered and fled, their noises fading into the distance. 

When the parchment was handed to her, Hilda's eyes traced the delicate lines of the girl's face, studying it with a keen eye. Her lips curved up in a smile as she looked up at the Warrior of Light, returning the warmth of his greeting. Returning her gaze to the drawn picture, her expression hardened, the corners of her mouth drawing down into a deep frown. She knew exactly who the missing girl was, recognized her instantly from her time spent in the shadowy, twisting alleys of the Brume, born and raised in the murky depths of a land few outsiders dared to venture into. She knew better than anyone the risks of betraying her own kind, the dangers of speaking out against the unwritten rules of the Brume.

Her lips thinned as she considered her next move, but she could not bring herself to speak, could not even pretend to be anything other than hesitant in sharing the details of the girl's disappearance. The girl was once one of her own and she could never sell out her fellows. Not even to those she trusted the most. And so, with a heavy heart and a deep sense of regret, the woman shook her head, her eyes downcast as she handed the parchment back to her friend.

"I'm sorry," she said mournfully, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I can't help you with that. See, I got your back. I'll go to every battle where you'd need me and my people. But come on... this rather a tall task, don't you agree?" 

Morganaux had tried to make his return to Ishgard as quietly as possible, but as usual, it seemed that fate had other plans in store for him. Hidden beneath a cloak, he’d thought he had done enough to avoid notice, but it took just one keen eye — just one keen and dreadfully noisy eye— to take note of his presence and alert practically the entire Holy See of his arrival.

After spending what felt like the past bell and a half giving out smiles and inspiring words to everyone who had flocked to see him, the Warrior breathed a sigh of relief as he watched the crowd finally begin to disperse. But, just before he started to head toward his destination again, a familiar face approached, and this was one he wouldn’t even dream of turning away— especially given what had brought him here on such a short notice.

“Ah, Hilda! It’s a pleasure to see you!” Morganaux answered, giving a tired grin. “I’m afraid I’ve got only one last smile left in me for the day, but I’ll gladly let you have it!” Shoving his hands into his pockets, he looked from side to side to make certain that they were alone now, then leaned in, voice lowered. “As for the reason why I’m here… You aren’t the only one who senses something troubling might be going on.”

Hand leaving the warmth of his pockets, he held out a piece of parchment with the face of a young bespectacled Elezen girl drawn upon it, a frown writ upon his face. “To cut to the chase, recently, a student withdrew from the Scholasticate. An orphan from the Brume attending on a scholarship, and one who took her studies quite seriously, according to the headmistress. She left naught behind but her letter of resignation, and… I assume you’ve heard enough of the stories about that place to figure out where I’m going with this, yes?”

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yet another hilda sketch

http://twitter.com/koyoriin http://patreon.com/koyorin http://instagram.com/koyori_n http://www.pixiv.net/member.php?id=12576068

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#hi aries. do u want to give hilda a dad

Looks at the camera like she's in The Office.

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“ I knew I did from the first moment we met.                  It was… not love at first sight exactly, but- familiarity.                                         Like: oh, hello, it’s you. It’s going to be you. ”

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Can I interest you into joining my religion instead? It's not like other religions. It's cooler. And also our god has nice tits.

But do you have a whole society inflicting religious generational trauma upon the population and waging nonsensical wars against wyrms? If not, I'll pass.

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Hurls an orphan at her.

Dribbles the orphan and shoots them straight down to The Brume.

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starter call.

just to bring back activity again. capping at 5. note: if we have a prior interaction you want continued, just reply here!

CAPPED!

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continued // @confiteorims​ 

     It was rare to find another person in her usual spot, but she couldn't say that the invitation was unwelcome. Unlike the Miqo'te, she had gotten used to the biting cold that she always came up with naught else to her but her muddled thoughts. Even so, tea was nice. It wasn't a particular commodity that the Brumefolk were given the privilege to partake in a daily basis, so when it's offered, there's no question to be had. It has to be indulged in in some ways. She made her approach and noticed the familiar kettle, knowing full well where it came from. "You didn't tell the old man I was here, did you?" Hilda proceeded to sit down, legs outstretched as she basked in the winter breeze. "Not that I care if he knew."

     Just that, she didn't want to be caught becoming solemn again. "Heard you got a place at the Empyreum. Could've just stayed with the lordship, if you catch my meanin'."

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drachenblood​:

𝐀𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫  within  her  natural  hunting  grounds  though  less  so  the  need  to  call  it  as  such  in  a  city  that  has  at  last  settled  into  peace  –  grudgingly  some  might  call  it  with  the  difficulties  that’s  come  with  such  peace.  ❝ For  however  long  that’d  lasted. ❞  He  scoffs,  picking  his  way  over  rotten  debris  and  fallen  masonry,  the  scars  of  a  thousand  year  war  still  long  in  healing.   ❝ The  Scions  have  disbanded  and  gone  their  separate  ways,  thus  granting  me  this  short  reprieve  ere  I’m  to  make  my  way  to  Thavnair. ❞  He  rests  a  hip  and  shoulder  against  a  wall,  arms  crossed  though  less  guarded  than  in  usual  company.  ❝ And  what  of  you,  Lady  Ware?  Still  fighting  the  good  fight?  I’ve  heard  this  town  suffered  for  the  presence  of  Blasphemies  whilst  I  was  away. ❞

     Hilda looked down at her hands and tried to reimagine the horrors of late. But the certainty of victory that they all felt when they got rid of them bloody blasphemies, while felt godly and divine, still left bitterness at the back of their tongues, the expected satisfaction no longer in view. Mayhaps, she pondered, they could touch safety once more. But, Hydaelyn is safe now, is it not? No such thing as safety when there's no danger to once again face. "Oh, cut it. Lady this, Lady that. Those Alliance bastards were irritatin' enough. You'd do the same to me?" Still said in jest, of course. She didn't particularly mind nor care. It was better than receiving a new insult to reclaim. "It had been hard, aye. We've lost good people. People we can't take back no more. We did what we could, so did his lordship."