masya-nelhah

[masya-nelhah]

IC Word Association- Masya

ROUGH: “Shroud.” HIDE: “Patience.” FOOLISH: “Doomed.” SAD: “Home.” HATE: “Villain.” LIGHT: “Knowledge.” DARK: “Void.” MOTHER: “Imbalanced.” FATHER: “...Inspiration.” CHILD: “Unattainable.” MARRIAGE: “Pointless.” LOVE: “Unity.” SOFT: “Fur.” PET: “Loyalty.” DREAM: “Empty.” DIVORCE: “Expected.” WATER: “Passage.” LOUD: “Rage.” ANNOUNCEMENT: “Ignore.” POWER: “Wisdom.” FIGHT: “Chore.” SMACK: “Stupid.” WHITE: “Temple.” SICK: “Nonsense.” KISS: “Enjoyable.” HUG: “Heartwarming.” HURT: “Heal.” HAPPY: “Sister.”

Tagged by: Just saw it floating around!

Tagging: @antelopes-and-omens @artificer-melly

[masya-nelhah]

Naughty or Nice

I suppose this sounds about right. On a tangentially related note, what she would be watching if TV were a thing? Probably The Punisher. Probably.

Test thing is here.

Tagged by: @antelopes-and-omens

Tagging: @artificer-melly

[masya-nelhah]

Interrogation

((This is a story I basically decided to write out of boredom, darker than other stuff I’ve made, as a bit of practice in Masya’s more aggressive side. More from the perspective of a random Garlean than anybody else.))

Cassus could not tell if he was awake at first. Everything still seemed dark and blurred, and a dreadful ringing sat in his ears. What was the last thing he remembered? Thinking almost hurt. He squinted his eyes shut, one not quite opening or closing properly. Not a good sign. Thinking for a moment, he recalled sitting at the camp with the others and then... nothing. Several not good signs.

Opening his eyes again he tried to look around the room, to assess the situation, though between his blurred vision and the darkness of the room there was little he could spot. The floor was rough, that much he knew, and his hands were bound. A wiggle quickly assured him he would not escape, and it only hurt. He blinked again, and when they opened, he watched as some red blur dragged a shape across the floor. How much time had passed? He couldn’t close his eyes again.

He blinked. Damn.

When he opened his eyes again, it was to an alternating pounding in each of his ears. As his eyes opened, he quickly tried to take note of his surroundings, but there was nothing to see past the red hooded mask in front of him. It seemed to resemble a bird of some kind, perhaps, but he could not be sure. Whoever the figure was, they withdrew a hand from beside his ear, likely they were snapping their fingers to try and wake him. Cassus bared his teeth, though whatever expression he tried to make faltered as he felt his eyes sinking closed again.

“Wake up.” commanded the red figure. Their voice was metallic, almost like one of the operating systems that spoke in the Castrums he’d been in, but meant to disguise a voice rather than resemble one. The Garlean willed his eyes open to look back at the figure. “You’re awake? This will be much easier for both of us if you can stay awake.”

Cassus lifted his head “...I’m awake.” he whispered, the most he could muster. Again he tried moving, to no avail. His hands and feet were tied behind him to some kind of pole in the ground. The room itself from what he could tell was nondescript, bland and earthen. The figure though was dressed in vibrant red colours, fit for travel in near any environment. “Where am I?”

The figure stepped back and stood up. Apparently they’d been crouching, and Cassus was kneeling in the dirt. What had been done to him? “I have to apologize, I meant to get you and your friends, but I may have hit you harder than I had to.” The figure’s voice almost sounded apologetic from behind the filter, but at least Cassus had an answer. Cassus decided to call them ‘Red’. Was as good a name as any. Red took a canteen from their side, unscrewing the top and holding it out. “Water?”

“...Yeah.” Cassus leaned in, taking some of the water into his mouth, eyes watching Red intently before removing his lips from the canteen and spitting it into her face. Red simply sighed, dumping the rest of the water into the dirt while keeping their eyes on Cassus.

“If that’s how you’re going to be, then so be it. I’ll just get to the chase. The more cooperative you are, the happier you and I will both be, yes?” Red walked away, moving to the back wall, picking up a sledgehammer that had been leaning there before resting it over their shoulder. “You are a former Garlean soldier. You’re native born, I can see, but you deserted some years ago. Why’d you desert? And I’ll tell you now that the two you were with? Were very stupid.”

They were stupid, Cassus could agree with that. He stared for a moment, eventually deciding that he didn’t much care what happened to the commander. He was here after all, for who knows how long with nobody coming to rescue. “I left because there was an engineer, who said he could get us rich, not having to deal with the Legion’s crap...” Cassus muttered, staring into the mask. He hated masks, impossible to read. “Me and some others liked the sound of that.”

“How noble.” Red’s voice rumbled beneath the mask, but after a moment they gave a nod. “But that is correct. Now, before I ask you the meaningful questions, why not tell me a bit about yourself? Truly. Why did you join the legion?”

Cassus was unsure what to think. Now, he was fairly certain that this was a savage of some kind. Would answering buy time? Should he tell the truth? “... Protection. For my fam--.”

Red cut him off with a shake of her head, and taking the sledgehammer off her shoulder to push the head against the tip of his nose. “No. I want you to be honest. You’re a native born Garlean, your family is safe as it will be. Why’d you join? I doubt you were conscripted, too pretty for that. Could’ve been all kinds of things.”

Cassus took a deep breath, staring down the hammer for a moment. “... I just wanted to. Glory, maybe. I never really thought about it.”

Red nodded, pulling the hammer away. “Good. Honest, I like it.” The hammer was set back over their shoulder. “Now, last thing I want to know about you. Just to hear you say it. What legion were you in before deserting?”

Cassus stared up for a moment. Now he was worried. “The Seventh.” He spoke slowly, and Red gave a nod.

“I know. Now that I know the kind of person you are, time for me to explain something. You listening?” Red swung the hammer onto the ground, sounding a heft ‘thunk’ as metal met stone. 

Cassus was prepared for this, he’d been told how the savages were by some other legionaries. The savages were brutal, and their methods of torture were vast. He wouldn’t be broken though, this was the sort of thing he was prepared for. Red couldn’t kill him, not without losing information. He just had to wait until he was rescued. And rescue would have to come eventually, right?

“I’m listening.” Cassus took a deep breath, looking Red in what he assumed were the eyes.

“I’m not going to torture you. I will ask you a question, and after you answer, I’ll ask you another question.” Red spoke slowly, tapping the hammer on the top of Cassus’ head. “From above.” The hammer was moved to Cassus’ chin. “Or from below.”

Cassus stared again for a moment, wincing slightly. He had to believe this was a bluff, that he could still outwill Red.

“If you answer my first question poorly, those are your two options. You answer it well and you get some more options. And maybe because of them some small mercy. Your friends didn’t get that.” Red stepped closer, lowering the hammer to tap it against the floor several times. “Now then. You and the other deserters have been running around in secret, hiding from Garlemald and Eorzeans alike. Where are they now?”

Cassus flinched almost. He had no idea if he could answer that, or if Red was bluffing. The savage certainly sounded angry underneath the metallic chords. “I- I don’t know.” Cassus blurted out, gaze sinking to avoid Red.

“Fair enough. Guess I’ll just have to find somebody smarter. You’re not the only one who would know. And you aren’t special.” Red shrugged before swinging the hammer back. “Best name your choice now, or I’ll just guess.”

Cassus’ eyes widened as he watched the hammer before crying out. “W-wait!” Yelling like that hurt his voice and he winced. “... They... they’ve probably moved, I remember hearing that they wanted to move more towards the coast...” Cassus felt a tremble in his words, watching the hammer intently as it hung in the air.

Red remained still for a moment before relaxing themself. “Well, well, well... you are smarter than the others. Thank you. You see this engineer of yours, he and some others hurt me very badly. And many others. But I imagine you don’t care. You just want your new choices.” Red swung the hammer back again, speaking with what was almost certainly a sneer. “From the left or right.”

Cassus shook his head, struggling against his restraints. “No! You said... you said mercy!”

“I said there might be a small mercy. After all, you might survive one hit from the right side. Best answer now.” Red wound up for a swing, toes of one boot twisting in the dirt.

Cassus pulled harder, but would not budge, letting out a guttural growl. His knees dug into the dirt beneath him, and with all of his might he squirmed. he looked back up just in time to see the head of the hammer coming in for his left cheek. Within an instant he felt it all, blinding pain, numbness, and a burning sensation. His vision grew cloudy again, bright lights flickering in his view. The taste of iron filled his mouth and he spit, watching through what seemed a narrow tunnel as blood and teeth spattered onto the ground below. He was alive, and that was something.

“And you’re alive. Congratulations, I’ll cut you free, and it will be up to you to crawl off to some hole where people may help you.” Red was heard moving behind Cassus, though his hearing seemed to be failing at times as well. All at once he seemed to feel gravity again, hands and feet unrestrained as he attempted feebly to raise his head.

Cassus managed to twist his view up to look at Red again, spotting a Miqo’te’s tail behind them. He sputtered again as he began chuckling softly. “...I... I think I do know who... you are...”

Red turned, approaching to kneel down over Cassus’ face. “Is that so?” the figure seemed to muse over the concept.

“Another... scouting party. One of them... got away, said a red armoured cat took them all out. But he got away... Said you were covered but he figured you must’ve been... A cat...” Cassus managed a chuckle as he rolled onto his back, fighting to keep his eyes open. “...Must’ve been smarter than you.”

Red stared for a moment before slowly shaking their head. “Got away? I let them go. Because I wanted to send a message. I’ll assume then he didn’t give it, and next time I see him I’ll be sure to do as I said.” Red stood up again, making her way over to where the hammer was resting. “You should shut up now.”

Cassus fought to move, hard as it might have been, and most of what happened was a weak exclamation of pain. “Y-You’re just a savage, and angry brutal savage... Holding some grudge... When we find you again...”

Red tapped their mask, and when they spoke the filter was gone, revealing a distinctly female voice, one filled with malice and venom. “Will you? You’re not gone yet, and you don’t look like you’re getting up anytime soon. Fucking moron.” She hissed the last couple of words, taking a few steps closer to Cassus, lifting the hammer. “Guess you weren’t any smarter after all.”

Cassus’ eyes widened again and he lifted a hand as high as he could, but it didn’t stop the hammer. It hit his head, and everything was black again.

But this time he didn’t open his eyes.

[masya-nelhah]

When you finish an RP as part of somebody’s plot and just as it wraps up for the night the misty, windy rain weather in Yanxia starts up, what else is there to do?

[masya-nelhah]

So I’ve decided for future reference that I will be describing Masya’s sexuality as “straight as a crazy straw that even an over excitable six year old would think is a little much” because sometimes saying “gay” just does not cut it.

[masya-nelhah]

Entry #7: Broken Leaf

"Miriamele, I am so, so sorry."

Masya had not left the side of the bed since Miriamele had been brought to it. She assumed there must have been people bustling about around her, tending to their own loved ones or at the very least looking for them. However, all of Masya's focus was on the broken, fragile girl in front of her. She had to fight to resist the urge of holding her sister's hand, or to hold her head close. The chirurgeons had told her not to, to let her sister rest, to recover. Hopefully, however, is what they hadn't said.

Despite the possibility that the younger Keeper might not make it, Masya refused to accept that Miriamele would die. She had come from Sharlayan the second she'd heard, and sprinted to where her family was. Where they should have been. But it was too late, the land had been consumed by fire and wrath and hell taking over the place she'd once called home. At the moment she just sunk, unmoving, unthinking, for a time she did not know. But then she'd been told by one of the Adders they might have found her sister, and now she did not move from her side, and her thoughts did not stray elsewhere.

She didn't know why she didn't cry as she looked over her sister. The girl looked so peaceful, alive but miraculously unharmed, at least it seemed. Masya supposed she was trying to be strong for her sister, even though her sister could not move or likely even notice her actions or words. Although it could have been for herself. For once Masya wished that she had an older sister.

"You're going to be okay Melly, I'm sure of it. The chirurgeons, they... they're saying you don't seem to be hurt." She forced a smile, and a hopeful, upbeat tone. Again, she feared it was only for herself. "They just want to keep you here just in case, and once you're better, then you can go..."

Masya fell silent again. This was how the past while had gone, how long precisely she did not know nor care. She would be hopeful, whispering to her sister that this new Calamity would not be the end of her, to fretful fear and thought, concern for her sister's future. Their family was gone, all they had was each other. Her home was gone, consumed in the fiendish divide. Masya supposed that they must have other family, cousins or aunts somewhere in the Shroud, surely they had to know of Miriamele and Masya's existence; their family had chosen to separate, not hide all traces of their existence from the world. But they weren't here.

The Keeper blinked, turning to separate herself from her pocket of reality for a moment. She looked about the makeshift clinic. It seemed less full than she had expected, though whether that was good or bad she dared not guess. For several minutes she stared, expecting some aunt she had never heard of to come forth, declaring she would take care of Miriamele, as a responsible adult would. But nobody came, save the infrequent passing of tired and fearful Adders and healers.

The woman cursed herself again. Why had she left? She should never have left Eorzea. Maybe if she had remained, she could have done something to save another brother or sister, maybe she could have made some decision. Perhaps if she had remained, the family would have moved further towards Gridania, or anywhere other than where they were. Was it her fault? She stopped, taking a deep breath. Thinking like that would accomplish nothing.

Besides, she knew whose fault it was.

Now all that remained is what she would do.

"...Miriamele." She looked back to her sister, no longer forcing herself to act strong. "When you wake up, when you're better, I will take care of you. I'll never leave you again. There's nobody here for us, there's just you and I. Together we'll thrive and... eventually maybe we can make things right. You and I will be unstoppable, and I'll make sure in Sharlayan, that nobody- I mean that, nobody, will think to treat you like I've been. And if somebody hurts you sister, if anybody dreams of it, what's out there, the pain and the death and the heat, it'll be |||nothing||| compared to what I do to them."

Masya leaned in to give her sister a kiss on the forehead. To hell with what the chirurgeons said.

"I promise."

[masya-nelhah]

Entry #6: Identification

"So tell me the, is that what you were looking for?" The mercenary wiped at his goggles, removing some of the filmy green spray covering the glass. A few of his compatriots loitered behind him, wiping their weapons off of the same film and slime from the dead ochus around. Though, it would do little to clean their clothes, which at this point were likely coated in spores that were just floating in the air around the ruins.

"I suppose I'll find out once it's open." The scholar spoke from within her helmet, voice disguised behind an artificial, metallic masking. Unlike the mercenaries, Masya seemed perfectly clean, having stood back from the fights. She was capable enough, but if she was to pay for people to deal with the bottom feeding monsters she would find in the ruins, she was going to allow them to earn their gil. She continued fiddling with the lock on the chest she was attempting to open, cursing the thousands of years' worth of mold and decay for tarnishing the Amdapori glyphs keeping it sealed.

"Maybe we should just bust it open." The mercenary spoke up, approaching the woman from behind and looking over her shoulder, past the hilt of her greatsword.

"Only if you'd like to be the one to risk the trap." The Keeper slowly turned to look up at him, a glare of sorts felt rather than seen. "I had no idea that you two were an expert on ancient Amdapor."

The mercenary raised his hands defensively, stepping back. "Listen, I just thought that maybe I would be able to be of some assistance, I do know how to open-." Masya turned a stone wheel and the chest swung open with a resounding clunk as the lid hit some stone behind it. "Or apparently, you've got it, so never mind."

Masya rolled her eyes behind her helm, reaching into the chest to pull out the only item within: a polished, white stone statue in the shape of a winged woman. "We at least got something then. Give me a moment." She tapped the side of her helmet, the aetherometer within falling into place and activating.

The mercenary let out a cheer, and his fellows followed suit, they theirs seemed more of an obligation without much enthusiasm. "Alright, so we're on the right trail then? We're all getting paid!"

"You were getting paid regardless, and if you wish to go in deeper that is your choice. I'm not moving any deeper into the ruins this sun, there's little telling what to predict." Masya murmured as she looked over the stature, carefully moving it about in her hands.

"Oh, well... I imagine there'dd just be more seedkin, yeah? Doesn't seem like it'd be too bad." The mercenary scratched the back of his head, looking back at his team for affirmation. One or two stuck out a thumb of approval.

"At the very least, there would be more seedkin. But I'm not worried about those." She stood up, opening her bag to wrap the statue up and tuck it away. "We're done here. I found what I was looking for."

"You did? So then, as a professional courtesy or what have you... what is it?" The mercenary seemed eager, nearly bouncing from foot to foot.

"A statue. Nothing more. No magical effects. Just an affirmation of something I was curious about. No practical value, just a relic of a time long since passed." Masya stepped past the man, heading towards the way they'd came.

"W-wait then! All you were looking for was a bleeding useless statue? I thought you were some kind of fancy learner!"

"I'd hardly call myself fancy. And it's far from useless, somebody will pay a great deal of coin for this. And being able to identify the relic will make clear to the officials that I am an expert, and with luck will be able receive more official permission to look at further artifacts." She spoke as she went, turning as she finished to look back at the group of mercenaries, standing together to look at her. "I'm sure you all think the promise of gil is far more enticing though."

The leader nodded. "Well I mean obviously. The other thing just seems... boring."

"Think of it as an investment. Gain more authority on the subject, find better relics in the end. Which is really the point. But you have to start small. Hence why I have to discern things like this." Masya gave her bag a light pat. "And if Gridania feels they don't need me to poke my nose into the ruins, then I suppose I will just have ignore their authority. We're done here, by the way."

"But, wait..." The mercenary scratched the back of his head. "Doesn't that just seem... dull? Anti... Anti-climate ticks?"

"Anticlimactic? I suppose that I have yet to find out. But yes, this is the boring part of the job. Very little to write home about. In all seriousness though, before it gets dark." She beckoned for the group to follow, making her way up up the ruined stairs.

"Right, right... but we're still getting paid, even though you found shite?"

"Not if you ask again."

[masya-nelhah]

Entry #5: Prank

((So I was sick the past three days and didn't really have the mindset to do these prompts, but here I am rushing out the last three to be all caught up, so here comes some minor writing spam!))

"Have you considered that it might all just be some kind of joke? Lots of these other students are young, like doing dumb sh-- stuff."

Masya did her best to make it seem like she was being equal parts honest and clueless, looking at the professor dead in the eye as she spoke, trying her best to keep the corners of her mouth from twitching. From what she could tell, the professor wasn't buying it. Though, the old elezen might just have been exhausted, constantly rubbing at his temples or stroking his beard. It's very possible he was just tired with life, not with her. At the very least, that's what she was telling herself.

"A joke?" The professor muttered, rubbing at his eyes. "And who would find burning other students' papers to be just a joke?"

Masya stared silently for a moment, but quickly regained her innocent seeming composure, offering a shrug from her seat. "... Might be the so-called victims themselves. You know, don't do the work and then burn it up so they might not... get in trouble for not doing it." She supposed that seemed plausible. Besides that, it was their fault after all. What else were they supposed to expect, calling her things like barbarian and savage? She'd only been in Sharlayan two moons and the welcome mat certainly hadn't been put out for her.

"They all had that same idea?" The professor gave her a particularly dubious look. Masya was more concerned that of all things, that was the potential hole he decided to poke at.

"I mean, they probably just organized it. Like a big planned thing, so they could pin it on some kind of sucker. Or the first guy did it and everybody just followed suit." Masya almost felt proud, she was spinning quite the yarn. Of course, it wouldn't surprise her if the other students had started doing this as some kind of way to frame her. But, she had been the one doing it, so she supposed she beat them to the punch. "Back in the Shroud this sort of thing happens all the time, really."

The professor dropped into his seat, pulling off his spectacles. "Miss Nelhah, the students here are far too civilized to have- I mean, I suppose they could have, they are young."

Masya wasn't quite able to catch her scowl as easily as the professor had caught himself. He'd almost earned his beard being redecorated into his eyebrows in his sleep. "Yeah, young people can be like that. I suppose they all think it's me though, which is why you called me in. It's pretty hard to fit in with the... Ah, you wouldn't know." She cast a look towards the floor. If they gave awards for performances, she was sure she'd be winning one.

"... Yes, of course. But, ah, one other incident I wanted to ask you about, before I let you go." The professor leaned back into his seat, trying hard not to look at the hopefully particularly pitiful looking Keeper.

What's he talking about?

"You know Mr. Ambrose, he's been a closer peer of yours since you arrived?"

Oh, right. Oh wait. Shit.

"A quarter moon ago, there was an incident I'm sure you heard about. Sometime during the night he fell asleep late at night in the studium presumably, and awoke wrapped up in two blankets, dangling from one of the statues in front of the studium." The professor propped his fingers up into an arch, looking at the woman. "He's still quite upset and embarrassed, do you know who might be responsible?"

Masya couldn't look up, it would make it too obvious how hard she was trying to contain her laughter. He'd really deserved it, honestly. He was such an ass, and it wasn't as if he'd been dangling upside down. She'd been careful not to hurt him, mostly. "I think I vaguely recall something, I'm... I was really sorry to hear about it."

The elezen stared silently across his desk before setting his hands back down on the wooden surface. "Very kind of you to say, frankly he deserved something like that. He is an adult and he should act like one."

Masya dipped her head further as she took a deep breath, putting a straight face back on as she looked back up, scrunched up hair bouncing as her head moved. "I suppose so. Um, am I free to go? I do have some papers to work on."

"Yes, of course." The professor waved the Keeper away and she was quick to her feet, making her way for the door. "Oh, and Ms. Nelhah, do you plan on getting a proper haircut?"

Masya stopped and turned, giving a slow nod. "I, uh, I meant to, but there was a lot more variety than I imagined, so I kind of got confused and... Didn't."

"Just ask for it to be cut shorter and stop where you think it looks good. Looking like your hair is styled after a mangy chocobo will just make them keep on treating you like an animal."

Masya gave another slower nod. "I'll, um, keep that in mind." She said softly, as she slid through the door with a soft wave. Eventually, she considered, she'd have to give them a chance to stop provoking her.

[masya-nelhah]

Entry #4: Self-Editing

“Dearest family.”

“No, that’s a stupid way to start a letter.” Masya grumbled under her breath, hunched over a small desk in her room. “Who else would be the dearest family? Not like I’ve got more than one lying around.”

That marked the second bell of her working on a letter to send home. She had yet to be gone even a moon from the Shroud, and was sure that despite her not being gone for long, her family feared how she was faring in Sharlayan. In the light by the small lamp, several crumpled up pieces of paper littered the desk and the floor around her. She had yet to think why this was so hard.

“Hello!”

“That’s so, so much damn worse.” She groaned, dropping her quill to reach up, running fingernails down along her face before shaking the already disheveled mane of red hair atop her head. “I have to at least be able to write a bleeding letter at this point, or Melly’ll reach a new octave screeching about what’s happened to me.”

She let out a sigh, bringing her legs up and leaning back in her chair. For a moment she supposed it might have been the environment. She had yet to grow used to the polished stone, and always having a roof over her head. Though, the lack of trees was by far the most jarring. The Keeper stuck out like a sore thumb, young and looking like she was some kind of wild animal only just recently climbed down from some tree, at least in comparison to many of her new peers.

Another huff escaped her lips as she leaned back in. “I’ll hear the poor thing from here if I don’t send something back soon...”

“Dear family, I am writing to tell you that I am doing well. You don’t need to worry--.”

“By the blasted Twe-- why would I open with telling them they don’t need to worry? They’ll get a sentence and a half in and start sobbing thinking I’ve started... being murdered!” A more anguished groan was released as she balled up the paper and tossed it over her bed, burying her face in her hands. “And I need a haircut... Maybe something short, not falling below my ears or something like that one elezen I saw had.”

Why was she talking about having her hair cut? Was she really so desperate to distract herself from getting a simple letter done? She dropped her head onto the desk limply, sticking out her tongue. Writing was something she already felt she might never excel at. After a moment spent staring at a blank space on the wall, she lifted herself up with a sigh.

“Dear family, I’m sorry it has taken so long for me to finally write a letter, I’m only just beginning to settle in!”

A good start. Explained what took her so long, and apologized all at once. And not overly formal. She could do this.

“I ‘m happy to say that aside from the unfamili--.”

“Wait. Will Miriamele be able to read this? She can read but I don’t want to give her too much to swallow. Maybe I should include a picture or two on any difficult bits.” She reached up to scratch at her chin, considering if that may have been too condescending. “... Don’t want any of the others to start poking fun at her--.”

Wait.

“Melly’s the only one that even can read.” She dropped her quill again, glaring down at the letter before slowly folding it up again. Maybe the place really was getting to her, assuming that her family would be able to make any good sense of the letter at all. “I... I’ll just fucking sleep on it.”

The Miqo’te stretched as she got out of the chair, adjusting the stuffy robes she had to stuff herself in now. There was at least something she could do to help her think. She could get a gods damned haircut.

[masya-nelhah]

Entry #3: The Twelve

Masya hated everything about the place. Perhaps the architecture and history at the least were interesting, but they were tarnished and ruined by the constant flux of people coming by now and again to pay some respects, give a prayer to some deity that wasn't listening. Masya was a scholar, not a believer, not that a lack of an education would at this point dissuade her disbelief. And so the Sanctum of the Twelve was an unfortunate visit on her list. Scholarly need dictated the visit, not anything else.

Twice now had some priest, or whoever managed the hallowed halls come to stop her from taking notes, asking how often she visited or if there was some deity in particular she wished to offer praise to. Or perhaps she was she there to plan a ceremony of bonding? Each of those questions more infuriating than the last. The Keeper never visited. Even now she had only come because of the place's historical signifance. The Twelve certainly held no place in her heart, and they never particularly had.

Perhaps once, she might have spared a small prayer to Menphina. However, she was much younger then, and an entirely different person. And still any worship of Menphina was at the time an obligation, her family did the same and she followed suit. And even then at the time, she didn't think at all of ceremonies of bonding or marriage. Thankfully at the time, this eyesore she now found herself in was still little more than an overgrown, crumbling ruin.

Her pencil broke against her notebook.

Masya cursed under her breath, grimacing as she tucked the pencil away and shut the book. She sighed, reaching back to scratch along the base of her ear, looking about the sanctum, affording it one last roll of her eyes before making her way to the exit, passing by a small gathering. In truth, as she would remind herself, she held no real disdain for the building itself, it was lovely, and important following the Calamity. Nor did she dislike the worshippers, or the people who'd come for some ceremony.

She supposed it was more of a grudge, but not against the people.

The Twelve did nothing, really. She certainly didn't think they were a myth, like some of her colleagues did, she wasn't quite that arrogant or foolish. However, she had arrived at the conclusion that if they were real they didn't care. Her sister would grow angry if she said such a thing though. Masya didn't quite understand that, how faith could be held in something that did nothing. The primals of beastmen might be dangerous, but at least they were real. Awful, but real.

Masya finally stepped free of the sanctum, letting out a relieved breath. It never really felt right being in such a place for some reason. And, after all, she'd taken enough notes to work with. As always, she didn't need faith in any gods. She did plenty enough on her own.

[masya-nelhah]

Entry #2: Synthetic

((The second entry of the month! Not as good as the first one I think, but it was a tough prompt for Masya, and I don’t want every story to be serious or dramatic in tone, so here this one is!))

"So, this is what you've brought me then?" Masya asked dryly, sitting at the makeshift table as she stared down at the sculpture the all too proud elezen had brought her. The man was grinning from ear to ear, evidently quite proud at the pearly white sculpture, standing about a fulm tall. It was in the shape of a winged, armoured woman, holding a sword proudly in the air.

"Indeed it is." The aged elezen spoke confidently, leaning back in his seat, his grin almost managing to tickle his bushy grey whiskers. He brought a hand forwards to rub two fingers together. "Now, about the payment for this fine piece of history..."

"Please, wait a moment, sir. I have to inspect the piece first." Masya raised the sculpture up, and not to her surprise in the slightest, it was far too light to be made out of actual stone. The Keeper let out a long sigh. "... Is this made out of clay? The Amdapori did not make sculptures out of clay."

The elezen scoffed in offense. "I'll have you know, miss scholarly sort, that I found that sculpture ten twelvemoons ago in the Lost City of--." The elezen spoke in a loud, almost boisterous voice, though Masya didn't let him proceed much further, raising a hand to silence him.

"You went into the City of Amdapor a decade ago, during a time when the ruins were glamoured by the Elementals and thus entirely unable to see, and the greatest scholarly minds of our time couldn't find it?" The Miqo'te was clearly not amused by her tone, though she was certainly not angered or even particularly annoyed. She simply sounded bored.

"I, ah..." The elezen folded his arms, thinking for a moment. Masya wondered how he would be able to dig himself out of this hole. "Yes, I did." He apparently did not excel at digging.

Masya rolled her eyes, knocking the statue against the flimsy piece of wood they'd called a table. Why had she agreed to meet out here for what she'd suspected was going to be a scam anyways? As the sculpture knocked against the wood, it made an almost hollow sound, certainly not what stone would make. After a wince from the man as it came into contact, she struck it again against the wood, though surprisingly it did not break. She raised an eyebrow, setting it back on the table.

"So now sir, do you still maintain that this is real?" She asked, readying the pouch at her side to leave.

"Of course I do, it didn't break, did it? Can't be clay." The man went back to being smug, apparently thinking that the scholar in front of him was quite stupid.

The Keeper let out a long, agonized sigh. "Listen. I am not an idiot, I know what stone feels and sounds like. You clearly did research though, the actual craftsmanship is quite good. You must have bought a book, hopefully something I had a hand in so this was not a total waste of time. But I am not stupid." Masya pushed the fake back towards the elezen. "Though how you made the clay not shatter is impressive. No scholar worth their salt would fall for this though."

The elezen looked frustrated, lips turning into a small snarl."...It's an old recipe. Mixing together some resins and sap makes the clay stick together better when you cook it." He muttered, still keeping some semblance of pride in his voice.

"I see. Well, that is an excellent way to make a worthless fake. I hope that this has been a lesson to you, and that nobody else falls for your miserable scam. Have a good day, sir." Masya let out a loud huff as she sat up, dusting off her robes. As she lifted her head, she found herself staring at a knife.

"Now listen here Miss Went-to-go-and-Get-a-Fancy-Education, you can't just insult my work--."

"I insulted your fake."

"Shut up!' The elezen yelled, red cheeked."I worked really hard to make these kinds of things, and use my own special recipe."

"You work hard to cheat people from their own hard- harder, actually- earned gil, using a recipe to make some kind of... artificial material. My sympathy for you is lacking I'm afraid." Masya looked towards a tree as a loud stomping could be heard. "And nor do you have it's sympathy."

"What are you talking abou..?" The man's voice fell as a colossal, four legged mammet brandishing a poleaxe stepped from the foliage. The metal plates covering the centaur's inner workings were thick and strong, and a lone red light could be seen from it's head. "W-what is that?"

"A centaur. A Sharlayan security mammet, quite good at its job, too. It's never truly a bad idea to keep such things by your side in case of emergencies. And coincidentally, it is also made out of some spoken-made materials. But it's far more valuable than a cheap imitation." Masya turned to the elezen, raising her hand to curl and uncurl her fingers in a wave before turning her back to walk away. "You aren't the first to try and swindle me sir, and you shall not be the last."

But of course, the elezen was long gone, being more frail and worthless than a cheap forgery.

[masya-nelhah]

Entry #1: Specter

((Got busy yesterday and almost forgot about it today, so catching up on these real quick!))

It wasn’t the first time that Masya had come out the Shroud’s burning, festering scar. She stared down at the ruined ground and the jagged crystal erupting from the fissures from behind a mask, hands buried in her coat as the cold air seemed to die as it neared the pits. Surprisingly, she had yet to be denied entry to the area, so long as she kept an escort with her. A vague excuse for the trip and they’d let her pass without even a name. Perhaps she was more charismatic than she believed herself to be, or perhaps they simply lacked the spine to deny a grieving woman. Though Masya was not here to grieve, she believed.

If she were to be honest with herself, she didn’t know why it was that she was here. In the years since the Calamity she hadn’t shed a tear for her deceased family, and even more certainly it was not to find people from the past. That was why she wore the mask, she did not need some face from her childhood to recognize her and shower her with apologetic sympathies. Those she’d received plenty of, and they never helped, nor did they make something feel better. Worse yet were when they would try and pretend there was some saving grace, some thing to make it not quite so bad that her family had either burned with the debris of a false moon or been smothered by the corrupted aether. There was no saving grace.

Yet, she did not grieve. What she felt was different than when she’d first returned home at the news and sprinted into Alder Springs, when she’d fallen, collapsed in shock. She’d sat there for what she swore was at least a bell, words and thoughts unable to form, like there was some absence of life within her. It was not until she’d found her sister survived that she brought herself to be again, to help her sister. What she felt must have been so much worse. Masya wished she could have cried, but sorrow was never easy for her. Instead she’d just felt some kind of burning ache.

“Miss, it’s getting quite far into the late hours, and it can be quite dangerous out here, escort or no.” The escort Masya had brought with her called out from down the hill. The Keeper had not bothered to remember her name. The escort rose her voice again. “I really think we should head back to Fallgourd.”

Masya stared for a moment, before finally speaking slowly. “You seem like you’ve been in the Adders for a while. Where were you when... this happened?” she gestured out to the ruined land.

“Me?” The Adder rose his eyes in surprise, placing a hand over her chest. “I... was running messages. For the most part.”

“Is that so?” Masya mused, before looking back out over the crystals and torn land. “Good for you.”

The escort stared up at her for a moment. “What about you? You mentioned something about knowing people who lived ‘round here.”

“I was somewhere else.” The Keeper spoke quickly, fingers tensing within her coat. “Far away.”

The escort was silent for a moment, before raising their voice again. “You know miss, some of us who watch the area, and I won’t name names or anything... Well, they say that you’re a ghost.”

Masya turned at that, looking down at the escort. The corners of her lips twitched under her mask. “A ghost?” She whispered to herself as she started making her way down the hill. She’d been called many things, most of which with the intent to hurt, yet that stung the most. Was that what she was? A ghost? No longer what she once was?

“Uh, y-you aren’t actually a ghost, are you...?” The escort seemed nervous as Masya approached them, staring from behind that expressionless mask.

“I’d like to think that I don’t have to be.” Masya replied, turning her gaze as she made her way back towards Fallgourd, the escort taking a moment before hurrying along after her. “Either way, I don’t think I’ll be haunting here any more.” She took a deep breath, remembering how she once was, before all of this happened.

Sorrow.

There it was.

[masya-nelhah]

FFxiv Writers – 30 Day Writing Challenge 2017!

The FFxiv tumblr community is filled with so many talented writers! I know that November is high writing time for many of us with NaNoWriMo on the horizon, but for those of us who want to keep it a bit more simple – I propose a 30 day writing challenge!

What’s a 30 day writing challenge? :o

Why, it’s challenge in which you write in response to a daily prompt that I post here, of course!

Here’s how it works:

Beginning Wednesday November 1st, I, @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast​, will post one new writing prompt daily at 12:00pm (noon) PST. Check back daily for the latest prompt!

You will write a short story, or scene, inspired by the daily prompt. You’re welcome to interpret the prompt in any way that you choose! Writing for different characters per prompt is just fine – but I do request that you stick to original characters that you own in the FFxiv universe.

All entries posted and tagged with #FFxivWrite2017 by noon (PST) the following day will be counted towards a participation prize drawing.

Entries posted after the daily cutoff is A OK! Catching up on prompts and writing at your own pace is encouraged. Just know that it won’t be counted towards the participation prize in the case of a later submissions. <3

On Friday, December 1st, I’ll count up all the participation tallies, each day counting as one entry per writer, and draw a winner!

The winner of the participation prize will receive a stylized black & white illustration of a scene depicted from one of their entries (winner’s choice!), drawn by yours truly! (Here’s #my art tag if you’re curious!).

Rules:

You cannot submit things that you’ve already written – Even if the topic is the same. All entries must be new and freshly written for this challenge!

No rough drafts and no redos – Relax! Use this as a low pressure opportunity to loosen up and de-rust your writing chops. No one will be judging your work for quality or length. The purpose is to get into the habit of writing daily. Don’t overthink it, and don’t put too much pressure on yourself! It’s all for fun!

Tag all of your entries with #FFxivWrite2017 – Even if you’re late to the writing party. I’ll be using this tag to track daily participants, so if you don’t use it, I won’t find your entry! Please note that entries that include an external link (to a song, piece of art etc.) will not show up in the tag results. Tumblr hides all posts with external links from their tag feeds. :[

Include the entry number in the title of your post – Example: “Entry #10: Your Title.” This helps me keep track of participating entries.

You have until prompt #7 to back write for the participation prize – That means that if you discover the writing challenge a few days, or even a week after it’s started, you can still jump in and back write as many of the first 7 prompts as you want, and they’ll count as entries to the participation prize! After day 8, however, no back writing will be counted towards the prize. That being said, it is totally possible for someone with only 1 participation entry for the duration of the contest to be drawn as the participation prize winner so don’t give up due to lack of participation overall!

Absolutely no griefing, harassing, or trolling other writers – This will earn you an automatic disqualification from the event.

No writing for original characters that you do not own – Please do not write on behalf of other people’s characters. Stick to characters that you’ve created.

Tag NSFW content with #NSFW – Similarly, if your entry contains graphic or violent content that may be triggering to others, please include a brief trigger warning at the top of your post. Be considerate of your readers!

What’s the purpose of this writing challenge?

To connect FFxiv writers, of all skill and experience levels, and to have fun sharing our work!

Whether you’re participating or not, consider checking out the #FFxivWrite2017 tag periodically after November 1st and like/reblog your favorite pieces. Show the FFxiv writing community some love!

NOTE: I reserve the right to opt out of drawing NSFW or potentially triggering content. If you’re drawn as the participation prize winner, please be willing to work with me a bit on choosing which scene to draw. Thank you!

[masya-nelhah]

Small update: She died at the end of that run.

She was the real number thirty-eight.

The dapper and sauve “Detective Nelhah”, currently helping solve a murder in Sable Tree’s Murder Manor Mystery Game! 

All thirty-seven of her previous partners are dead, and dead bodies are gross!

[masya-nelhah]

The dapper and sauve “Detective Nelhah”, currently helping solve a murder in Sable Tree’s Murder Manor Mystery Game! 

All thirty-seven of her previous partners are dead, and dead bodies are gross!

[masya-nelhah]

The Sable Tree Company and Thaliak’s Embrace join hands in a collaborative event to celebrate the upcoming All Saints Wake! Before a night of celebration, accompanied with drinks and games, accompany us for a play of murder mystery - can you catch the killer?

Join us in our:

1. Murder Manor: Come join us and see if you can figure out our murder mystery! Due to the nature of this game, our Manor will be opening at 10 am PDT and closing at 10 pm PDT in order to let as many people as possible experience our Murder Manor!

2. Snack Booth: Come indulge in our tasty menu! From various of savory and sweet flavors, we hope our limited edition All Saints Wake Menu will give you some thrills and chills! (Snack Booth will only be open during party hours)

3. Games: Join us for some lighthearted games featuring some of the holiday’s decor! Throw some darts at our various pumpkin, ghost, and bat themed balloons in Pumpkin Pop or take on our security’s new weightlifting game of Troll’s Challenge!   (Game rules will be explained my booth runner at event. Games will only be open during party hours)

4. Raffle: Do you dream of owning a small Lakshmi? How about having a tiny Susano that rejoices in the glory of your combats? Or maybe you wish for a odd little Otter to toddle besides you, lighting the paths in your adventures? Now is your chance! Enter our raffle and see what you win! (Raffle entry fee is 15k - more details on raffle such as prizes and rules are HERE. Raffle entries will only be taken during party hours until raffle drawing time.)

5. Costume Contest: Interested in showing off your spooky glamour skills? Now is your chance! With NO ENTRY FEES, prizes of Pumpkin Butler Minions, and a grand prize of a Blackblossom attire- you’ve got nothing to loose and everything to gain by just having a bit of fun! ( More details on raffle such as prizes and rules are HERE. Contest entries will only be taken during party hours until judging time. ) 

Location: The Lavender Beds, Ward 12, Plot 35

Murder Manor: 10 am PDT - 10 pm PDT

Party at the Manor: 8 pm Eastern / 5 pm Pacific - 12 am Eastern / 8 pm Pacific

Date: 10/28/2017

WE HOPE TO SEE YOU THERE!

[masya-nelhah]

The Keeper’s Kiss invites every warlock and ghoul to another All Saint’s Wake Open Cabaret! 

⚝ Who: The Elysium’s Performers & Various Howlin’ Others!

⚝ Doors open: October 27th, 5PM PDT/ 8PM EDT

⚝ Entertainment Begins: 8:30~ PM EDT

⚝ Where: The Wanderer’s Elysium: Mists Ward 11, Plot 5

⚝ Other Tidbits: We welcome all performers to our stage, both in-house and out, and our performer slots for this cabaret are currently open!  We have 10 - 12 slots for each Cabaret with a first-come, first-serve basis.  We withhold the right to grant Keeper’s Kiss members priority. If you are interested in performing at this event (or in the future!) please feel free to contact  @vachir-qerel, @shroudwayman or @kotone-shimayasu for more info!

Poster credit goes to the every so sweet & talented @etani-a​.

For shameless boosts: @balmungrpcalendar​