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// [hand rips through the dirt] hhhogh

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// sorry that ive been basically dead for the past month or so, i had to compile a portfolio for uni- activity should pick back up a little, now! thank you for your patience :O

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                                   ‘ do you forgive yourself? ‘ 

                                                        no. next question. 

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For a year I watched as something – terror? happiness? grief? – entered and then left my body. Not knowing how it came in, Not knowing how it went out.

Jane Hirshfield, from “The Envoy,” Each Happiness Ringed by Lions: Selected Poems (via lifeinpoetry)

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► Name ➔ “I am Zephirin Valhourdin. I hail from Coerthas.“ ► Are you single ➔ “And if I were? ... Regardless, it is of no consequence.” ► Are you happy ➔ “That’s neither here nor there.” ► Are you angry? ➔ “ Nay.” ► Are your parents still married ➔ “Death did them part, I suppose.”

NINE FACTS

► Birth Place ➔ “I was born in Ishgard. ‘Twas a temperate night, or so my mother said.” ► Hair Color ➔  “... This is my natural hair color. Does it not look like that?” ► Eye Color ➔  “Green.” ► Birthday ➔ “Fourteenth day of the Second Umbral Moon.” ► Mood ➔  “Rather tired, but none the worse for wear.” ► Gender ➔ “Male.” ► Summer or winter ➔  “Summer.” ► Morning or afternoon ➔ “I personally find myself drawn to the tranquility of an early and solitary morning. There’s often too much work to be done in the afternoon.”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

► Are you in love ➔ "As already said, this is of no concern or consequence.” ► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔ “Love at first sight is little more than a faerie tale. What may come from that delusion is another thing entirely.” ► Who ended your last relationship ➔ He laughs dryly. “I suppose I did, didn’t I.” ► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ “... Well.” He recalls aether burning in his palm, but forces the phantom out of his mind. “With how social functions go in Ishgard; Station, supposed looks, and so on... Some of the more dramatic patrons who sought my hand would insist I did.” ► Are you afraid of commitments ➔ "I pledged my heart, blade and soul in the past. Regardless of outcome... If given the right reasons, I will not hesitate to do so again.” ► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ “Ah.” When had the last time been? His. His chocobo, at best. When had he last seen Minerva? “... I don’t quite recall.” ► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ He sighs. ► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ The sigh quickly breaks into an odd choking noise. “B-beg pardon? No.” That’s an obvious lie, Ser I-Named-My-Sword-Shattered-Heart.

SIX CHOICES

► Love or lust ➔ His tone is equal parts unimpressed and amused. ”This is a touch inappropriate to ask so brazenly, is it not?” ► Lemonade or iced tea ➔ “Tea, though I’m rather fond of citrus blends.” ► Cats or Dogs ➔ He smiles a little. “Cats.” ► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔ “Few friends are fine enough, though acquaintances and connections ought to be well-kept and many.” ► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ “Hm. I wonder.” ► Day or night ➔ “I’ve always been partial to nighttime.”

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

► Been caught sneaking out ➔ “In the distant past.” ► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔ “I speak from experience when I advise people not to carry heavy boxes up or down stairs on your third nigh-sleepless night.” ► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ A tired, sideways look. “Haven’t we all?” ► Wanted to disappear ➔ “Let’s say I’d rather not have a repeat of the real thing.”

FOUR PREFERENCES

► Smile or eyes ➔ "’Eyes are the window to the soul’- is how the idiom went. I find it to be true more often than not.” ► Shorter or Taller ➔ “I’ve no preference.” ► Intelligence or Attraction ➔ “I believe I’d prefer intellect.” ► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ Zephirin’s brow furrows in thought, but he remains curiously silent.

FAMILY

► Do you and your family get along ➔ "My father was distant at times, but well enough. My mother liked telling me stories about him, so it didn’t bother me overmuch.” ► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ Cue genuine puzzlement. (It only went to shit recently.) "Beg pardon?” ► Have you ever ran away from home ➔ “I’d no reason to.” ► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ His ear flicks in mild agitation. “Nay. I’ve already said I’d gotten along with them until they passed.”

FRIENDS

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ “That would no longer be a friend, in my opinion. A mandatory contact seems a more fitting name for such a relationship.” ► Do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ “That they are friends at all should be enough.” ► Who is your best friend ➔ ”I confess it’s difficult to pick one out. Some friends simply better fill different roles, and I seek them out for those, just as they seek me out for mine.” ► Who knows everything about you ➔ “You know it’s impossible to know everything about a single person.”

tagged by: @catleha (// thank you!! :D) tagging: @sernoudenet, @ofonyxshade

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Silent Ishgard [3/3]

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grindinghatchet:

“Truly, what is my intent?” she asked, staring at the Elezen, knowing full well he was supposed to be dead and by her axe no doubt.

Red permeated her memory as uncaged savagery had been erupted upon “King Thordan” and his “Knights of 12″. So angry was she, so steeped in vengeance she did not care for anything but the mindless slaughter for what they had done. The room painted in crimson when the deed was done and yet one of the men she had taken down stood before her with not a scratch on him.

“I would like, first, to know how you came to still be alive and breathing. Last I remember, my axe was embedding itself into your skull.” She said with a hardened glance, full wanting to take her axe and do so once more for the briefest of moments. But Nua had already had her revenge for Haurchefaunt and for the misdeeds of the Bishop and his cronies. Also she was in Reunion and while it was clear Zephirin wasn’t of any of the tribes, peace was the law there and she would be foolish not to abide by it.

Well. A small victory. Considering he isn’t dead at the moment, that is. Putting it like that, it doesn’t feel like much of one, does it? The elezen’s hands are still raised where she can see them as he thinks on her question- He remembers, too, the day he died; Though the memories are a bit like clouded glass, a shattered mirror difficult to piece together, the final moments where the axe descended upon his head and his world became blinding agony, sustained a few seconds of eternity longer by holy aether- Those are a fresh phantom pain at the side of his skull.

Zephirin flinches, involuntarily. Truthfully, he’d like to know the answer, too, but he needs to answer, not guess- Noudenet or Haumeric would have been able to give vastly better ones, or perhaps would have launched into an entire opening for a friendly debate or lecture. His own truthful reply is just grim and tired- But he can’t rightly say he would’ve rather stayed dead when he is courting death right this moment.

“That was the last time we met, yes.” he replies, before giving pause, gaze flickering briefly to the axe on her back, trying to determine if it was the selfsame one from that day on Azys Lla. That, he doesn’t remember. The memory of pain pain ohhalonemakeitstop must suffice then.

“I will be honest with you and tell you that I... do not rightly know, either. I only have speculation, and I must confess that my best guess is naught much to hear of.”

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MUSE   PLAYLIST.

post 3-5 songs that remind you of your muse. rules: repost,   don’t   reblog.

01 . raising the bar // envoi  ||     how can you sleep at night when giving up / the reasons you came here, the reasons you stayed here / an active role in the plot to bury the vocal / and humble the broken / the table has spoken, and i won't chose

02 . lost paradise // haruno ||    half-spoken regrets, flowers crushed underfoot / when i noticed, my arms and legs had all been rusted still / paralyzed as if i'm a ghost

03 . whispers in the dark // neverwake ||    i kill the beast of my own doubt / we've come too far to turn back now

04 . saltkin // purity ring ||    bid them writhe and sprout their heavy feathers / lift my drooping heart

05 . last stardust // aimer ||    my wound-riddled heart of glass relights the passion that i had started to forget / dance into the sky into the distance, last stardust / dust to dust, earth to earth / oh, debris of wishes, unto eternity

tagging  :  // go ham!!

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ISHGARD AETHERYTE PLAZA. 

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Let’s watch.

(C.B)(5.19.18)

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friendly reminder that even if i take ages to reply, i still want to roleplay with you

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Are you tired of not being able to interact with quest npcs you know and love? Do you have a dire need to get bullied into oblivion by a Lalafell or support the best DRK daughter? Then like/reblog this– If you’re down with interacting with a low activity multi-muse blog containing an ever growing list of the less loved npcs in the FFXIV series, that is. written by yun.

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lcvcillcur:

"Really, were I of the authority of the same Church and State you claimed so dear, I could call you Heretic. "

Alphinaud had work with the Warrior of Light. Running around, dealing with the political fallout of a world torn violently from a religious totalitarian monarchy. She? She was more keen on learning from the aftermath than quelling it. And so, newly recovered from her poison, she had sought out the remnants of a failed God and his subjects.

"A man of stature, of breeding, taught in the ways of the church so as to best go against it. And for what? To fly too close to the sun and fall, wings melted, into the sea? And still claim your moral high-ground?"

Alisaie leaned forward, cold gaze boring into the former member of the Knights Twelve.

"You are the most dangerous kind of decent man."

“Yet you are the one who sought me out. Do you think his steel blunted? Or do you simply wish to put down the heretic.”

Zephirin speaks the last word like a slow-moving toxin, something that will rot and destroy from within- Revulsion habitually jolts down his spine at the mere thought, though he had genuinely partaken of what could have been considered heresy in the past; Unmend gnaws at his fingers, the ancient strokes of Living Dead still flickers behind his eyelids in the hasty smudges of a dying dissenter. There is guilt, certainly. It eats at him whenever his eyes fall upon his blade in the corner of his room, nigh untouched since he’d awoken, a constant, a reminder. That he had given freely of his soul for the Archbishop to bend any which way he’d pleased. That he had forsaken all the values he’d held dear. That he’d fallen in a foolish pursuit of- What, power? Divinity? Validation? Halone forgive him. Halone, punish him. Halone, answer my prayer so i may know- know if i am still in Your grace, if You have forsaken me, pray rain hail and ice upon my head so i may know i truly am a man lost, o Fury, answer me--

She is right. wholly and completely. The fact nearly makes him laugh. He tilts his head, simply too tired to do so. A friend of the Warrior? He’d briefly thought her the boy Ser Grinnaux and Ser Paulecrain had challenged, but the young elezen’s attitude was too alien for that belief to keep hold for long. The boy would likely not seek him out to spit harsh truths into his face.

Idly, he wonders how much she knows. He wonders how long she’d be willing to listen.

“I would not blame you, truly. Nor is your accusation wholly misplaced- But the Archbishop is not one to be denied.” There’s a sort of dry amusement in his voice as he meets her gaze coolly. “Alas, any high ground I may have had has long since taken by the flood, now.”

“That aside- If you plan to stay, it would be remiss of me not to offer you a seat. You are young Ser Leveilleur’s sister, I presume?”

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thisispxrsonal:

What ever might this be? Someone sharing everything that makes him himself has suddenly entered his field of vision. Zephirin gives a pause to his own thoughts, instead replacing them with many inquiries about how such a thing might be possible. If this were a glamour, it may be bad taste, but what else would it be? Perhaps it is merely one bearing an uncanny ressemblance to his own self, down to not only the haircut and its very length, but also the very color of his eyes. When the other speaks, his voice is as if he would hear his own spoken voice. He was certain of it. Do I know you, he has asked. How might he best reply?

“Perhaps we both know to that question already, do we not?” He inquires, taking assured steps forward, green gaze upon the other, unwavering. “The better question might be how in Halone’s name is there another of myself, would you not agree? I for one would be quite interested to find out just what has led to this and how both of us might now coexist, having met each other in such a way.”

Granted, they wore different attire, but this, he pondered, may yet be for reasons of circumstances. He wore a dark red tabard over a chainmail sleeved shirt, hands bare from any armor, feet slid in knee-high black boots. A satchel of sorts was slung over his shoulder, contents a mystery.

“Who, then, might start first with their tale? Perhaps we should find ourselves some manner of food or drink as we share what may have happened since our defeat at the Singularity Reactor.” He states, making sure to be as non-threatening as possible.

Ah. The phantom is indeed very real, and doing a significantly better job at holding himself together besides. How queer it is, hearing his own voice like this, forming words he cannot consciously predict or direct; Fortunately, he’s always been one to gather his wits rather quickly even after being knocked off-kilter and steadily, steadily returned his doppelganger’s gaze. There is still a measure of scrutiny in it (for who would do such a thing without an ulterior motive, if this meeting is not mere happenstance?), but no more open suspicion- The keyword being open.

���I suppose we do, but one can never be too certain.”

In truth, his mind still races with possibilities, half-aborted whys and hows he doubts he’d ever be able to answer on his own. Though he looks for differences, none are readily apparent (and in a fashion, perhaps he’s a bit hesitant to look for them at all; The tale of the Ghost of Starlight Past comes to mind once more). Well then. Words reveal as much as they can conceal- They had both died at the hands of the Warrior. Known where they had died. Even Ishgard can still only speculate of the Archbishop’s time and place of demise, and where he goes, his knights will surely follow- And if this man- If he knows of Azys Lla, of the Reactor? Perhaps that is enough.

In truth, it is not. Still he decides that they can speak of the whys and hows of coexistence together, however odd that sounds. Conversing at length with himself... If nothing else, it will make for quite the experience.

He gestures with a hand as he speaks, gently- Gloved but for once without gauntlets, dark steel shed for a walk around town, a stop by the markets, though his thin black leather cuirass remains. His only luggage at the moment seems to be a pack secured at his hip, a sheathed knife strapped to his boot upon his thigh and the blade on his back.

“I suppose both our respective stories will each be strange in their own right. If you’ve no pressing matters, I’d be willing to discuss our circumstances at length, should you wish it so.”

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for the fury has forsaken us