mokkri-valandiel

[mokkri-valandiel]

Pre-Post Timeskip character sheets for wayward adventurers on the First. This was such a fun project to bring to life, and it’s super satisfying to see them all in a lineup together.  I’m very proud of this!!

Thank you @silentlyjudgemental for letting me work on this project with you!! 

[mokkri-valandiel]

#FFXIVWrite2019 Prompt# 12: Fingers Crossed

Mokkri waited for her father to come home.

And waited.

On the second day, she knew he’d gone to some campaign or another, and began preparing accordingly. Leaving her apartment, she spent the day shopping, buying alchemical ingredients, visiting apothecaries and infirmaries. There was never a time when her father returned from a campaign in one piece.

On the third day, she began preparing a feast. Nothing fancy, just simple food that would keep or reheat easily. She prepared each dish one by one, taking her time to create each one. After all, he expected perfection and there was no need to rush and prepared dishes at the same time if he wasn’t even here.

On the fourth day, she waited. Fingers crossed.

(( @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast ))

[mokkri-valandiel]

Prompt #12: Fingers Crossed

#FFxivWrite2019 is underway – a daily writing challenge presented to the Final Fantasy xiv writing community for the month of September!

Responses can be posted on any writing platform and submitted by providing the link via this Google Form:

https://forms.gle/EJV82Wh85BZpwaFa9

Likes from me (from Prompt #6 onward) are no longer an indicator that your post has been seen and tracked. See the Updated Rules post for details.

More about single word prompts here.

About the Writing Challenge || Prompt List || #FFxivWrite2019

[mokkri-valandiel]

My favorite type of characters are “they’re not dumb but they are a dumbass”

[mokkri-valandiel]

Send me one or more of the following:

❊ I want to roleplay with you ✸ I want to plot with you ✤ I want to ship with you ✥ I have roleplayed with you and it was great ❦ I sort of secretly ship a thing with your muse(s) ✷ I wish our characters were friends ✢ I like your characters ✱ I don’t like your characters ✣ I like the way you express your muse(s) ✫ I don’t like the way you express your muse(s) ☬ I feel like your characters are underdeveloped ❂ I don’t agree on all your headcanons ✡ I agree on all your headcanons ❋ Your blog is one of my favs ✦ I like seeing you on my dash ✵ I don’t follow you for roleplay ✧ I wish you would notice me ✩ You intimidate me ✪ You seem like a cool person ✺ You’re hard to approach ✻ I wish you weren’t so shy ❄ I look up to you ❆ I love your art ❇ I love the way you write * I want to learn to know you = I’m too shy to approach to you ☓ We should talk! ♥ Your choice what to write"

[mokkri-valandiel]

#FFXIVWrite2019 Prompt #10: Foster

G’Mokkri Dajha sat at her workbench in her small apartment, scribbling. The lines she wrote appeared to be just that--lines of words she wrote over and over again. If one were to look over her shoulder, one might find she wrote a name. Not her name, not entirely.

“M-O-K-K-R-I,” G’mokkri mumbled to herself as she carefully flourished each letter. She sat back and examined it before continuing. “V-A-L-A-N-D-I-E-L. Gods, this is such a fussy name to spell.” She idly added a few more lines to her work, putting finishing touches on this particular signature. “Mokkri Valandiel,” she said together, leaning back and listening to how it sounded.

“G’mokkri Dajha. Mokkri Valandiel.” She tried them both.

It was past time for her to take her adoptive father’s name she had decided. But how to make it work, when they came from such different cultures. “G’mokkri Eruantien,” Mokkri said aloud, then shook her head. No, it didn’t sound right. And--it wouldn’t be right. Eru wasn’t her nunh.

“Heck the nunh,” she whispered fiercely. “Heck the Sept.” She knew what lay at the end of this midnight fugue: she would drop the Griffon from her name, she would drop the name of the man who fathered her, and take the name of the man who was raising her. There had long been no love lost between Mokkri and her Sept’s traditions, with the disobedient girl bringing shame and frustration to her family for her outspoken beliefs.

“Mokkri Valalalalalalalandiel. What a mouthful.” She smiled, pushing away from the table and her sketches, moving towards her bed. She paused.

Returning to her desk, she gathered up her sentimental writings, stuffing them under her bed, out of sight. Eruantien held a key to the apartment, and I wouldn’t do for him to find out her intentions before she told him.

Still, she knew tonight she went to bed G’Mokkri Dajha, and would wake the next day as Mokkri Valandiel.

(( @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast ))

[mokkri-valandiel]

Prompt #10: Foster

#FFxivWrite2019 is underway – a daily writing challenge presented to the Final Fantasy xiv writing community for the month of September!

Responses can be posted on any writing platform and submitted by providing the link via this Google Form:

https://forms.gle/EJV82Wh85BZpwaFa9

Likes from me (from Prompt #6 onward) are no longer an indicator that your post has been seen and tracked. See the Updated Rules post for details.

More about single word prompts here.

About the Writing Challenge || Prompt List || #FFxivWrite2019

[mokkri-valandiel]

Being kissed softly!!!!! fingers gently tracing your skin!!! Your hair being tucked behind ur ear!!!!!!! The little thumb rub thing when u hold hands!!!!!

[mokkri-valandiel]

It’s been fun, but I guess this is goodbye.

[mokkri-valandiel]

Gunning for More

“Even if it takes generations ta make even an ilm of progress, if ye don't stop fightin' 'em, eventualleh ye'll cut through." Nazyl said, "Givin' up, like the people o' Kholusia do...then yeah, yer alreadeh doomed then."

"You'll find, well, ..." Morgan canted his head left and right. Nazyl wasn't wrong for the whole there, "...Yes, the majority of Kholusia in their stagnant choice. "Plenty up in arms in Norvrandt."

Mokkri twists her fingers in her lap uncomfortably.

"Thoughts to voice, Mokkri?" Morgan asks.

Nazyl huffed. If it wasn't obvious by now his feelings were strong on the subject.... "This place though....I can get used ta the Crystarium. Everehone works hard fer a future they ain't even certain of, n' that's the kinda stuff I find inspirin'." He folds his hands together, "I'll throw me lot in with 'em. If Eulmore wants ta try n' pay m back fer me message, I'll send 'em back bloodeh n' limpin'."

"I--just feel bad. I'm not 'up in arms'. I'm--" Mokkri shrugs. "I'm comfortable here, it's true."

"Feel bad why?" Nazyl asks.

"I'm not contributing in the same way. My life is never on the line. My convictions are never tested. I am safe so long as the Crystal Exarch and the tower are here. But--you speak very highly of action and I'm not acting..." Mokkri grimaced at her knees.

Nazyl smirked, shaking his head with a chuckle, "Oh no no, lass the reason I lik this place is that everehthin' works tagethah. Not everehone is a fightah."

"Right, I wouldn't compare contributions like that, but," Morgan shrugged, pushing himself off the counter.  They had been over this. He scooped up the supplies he's brought in and pushed open the door to a smaller room. OUt of sight for a time, but lights flick on."

Nazyl: "In fact, it'd be bad if everehone was. WHo'd manage the supplies? Who would make the equipment? Who'd feed all of 'em?"

"I'd reckon that yer contributions are actualleh far more important than goin' out n' bleedin' the beasts. By stayin' here n' keepin' folks well equipped, ye ensure they live n' have a place ta come back ta." Nazyl spoke firmly.

“Hm." is all Mokkri has to say.

Nazyl settled in the chair some, "It's teamwork. We go n' fight, mayhaps get beat up a bit, come back n' be able ta eat good food, get our gear maintained, have the best medicine available. Without aneh o' that, this place would have fallen a long time ago I reckon. So don't feel like ye have ta fight. I ain't gonn stop ye if ye do, I'm in no place ta do that, heh."

Morgan kept in view, laying out a mattress on the floor now that he's in something relatively more comfortable. He keeps the gloves on. "Has that answer been consistent enough from one more person now?" Morgan asked, amused.  These sort of peptalks are likely common in the Crystarium of all places.

"Fight if ye feel like ye realleh need ta, n' I'll be right b'side ye. Fightin' alone...ain't recommended, from personal experience.” Nazyl rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

[mokkri-valandiel]

Wired Mokkri sat in her forge, sketching. Her assistants were taking care of the day-to-day for her, now. How the woman afforded her own forge and assistants of a good caliber was beyond her. Yet, it seemed that every day she improved at her work and it was noticed. And the more she was noticed and appreciated, the better the young woman did, under the affable gaze of her peers. She thrived under the attention, no matter what kind. Today, she sat with worn blueprints in front of her. The drawing before was mixed with ink and charcoal--clearly scribbled on with whatever was available at the time she worked on it. Mokkri grinned at the grubby paper, though, and tucked it under one arm. Tacking it on the wall of her forge, she reviewed it one last time to be certain: she'd recreated her plans from the source for a gunblade in full. Overly complicated, and likely to explode, but it had a more than decent chance of actually working. And working for anyone, regardless of personal aetherpool which still remained important to her. Sure, Morgan had his own gunblade from his girlfriend now, but that didn't change her mission here. The reason she'd continued to forge weapons despite her core telling her arming the populace would only lead to them killing each other. Weapons were only made to kill. But here, there was a mission of mercy and kindness in the killing. Something unequivocally evil and wrong that needed killing. The Eaters. If returning the soul and being of a poor possessed spoken to the lifestream was not a good reason to arm someone, to have them them in a blood and dangerous battle --then what was it going to be? This was one of the reasons the coward had excelled at her time on the first as an arms dealer. Her reason for thriving was a ubiquitous, nasty, evil thing and she had fewer and fewer qualms every moon about making something for anyone who asked. But for herself? That was another problem entirely. It wasn't to say she looked down on those who fought even though the idea of fighting something herself repulsed and frightened her. Those fighters -- like Morgan and Rivra -- were doing what she could not, after all. How could she judge them? Still, she examined the blueprints before herself. She had thought for a long time about this. Ever since she had unlocked the secret of the soul forge on the first she had known she needed to help more. But the soul forge was picky and only worked for her, attuned all her creations to herself. She'd been thinking since her sharp words to Morgan and her cutting remark about being stronger than him -- maybe she'd been going about this all wrong. If she was going to be afraid no matter where on the battlefield she was, she should work to her strengths. And her strengths were literal strength, stamina, and a stubborn streak a mile wide. Her quoits were nice but…just maybe not the answer she sought. Mokkri began laying out wires of varying metals, laying out the skeleton of her creation. The soul forge required a sacrifice of the highest caliber. She needed to have an expert look at her work and to test it in the field before she fed her gunblade to the forge. She needed to convince Morgan and Rivra to take her on a mission and to convince herself she would live through it.

[mokkri-valandiel]

Tinkers at Heart

Mokkri blinks again and frowns, disappointed that she hadn't actually been original. "So how did they make it so the aether didn't just dissipate or explode?"

"I'm not /sure/," Eru said, looking down at the blueprint and scratching at his chin with one hand. "No one I asked really had a deep technical knowledge of the thing. And no one /had/ one I could look at it. But..." He placed a finger on the Garlean gunblade drawing. A firearm, in principle, works rather simply. A hammer strikes the primer of a catridge when the trigger is pulled, which ignites the powder charge inside. That explodes and propels the bullet from the casing, and out the barrel. So fundamentally, the principle of an aether-charged gunblade should be the same. Except it doesn't fire a /projectile/."

G'mokkri Dajha nods, "So we need a way to move the aether without dispersing it into the ambient area, and to make sure that it actually shoots, right? I think a casing is still the answer. Just one that does something. On impact maybe? More than just explode. Or like maybe it -does- explode," she says, flapping her hands excitedly. "But the explosion is beneficial to your blade portion. A gun that fires magic is a -thing-, right? They have that in Ishgard. But we have to remember we aren't just making a sharp gun, we are making a -gunblade-."

Eru nodded. "Just so. So the question is - what could we do with the aether to benefit the blade? Using aether cartridges to increase cutting power right upon impact for example, or using the explosive power of detonating aether to propel yourself by means of the gunblade..." Eru looked at the blueprints. "So, maybe...the uses should be myriad? We would have to make cartridges designed for different purposes...and still build a barrel into the gunblade...but also channels for aether to run..." He frowned in thought.

Mokkri shrugs, "It would need enchanted channels for the aether to bleed off or to focus it and make sure it goes where it ought to, anyways. I was looking at goldsmithing. Maybe if we looked into what kind of metal conducts different aether best, we can make matching cartridges and channels so that when you put in a cartridge A, thing A happens. And so on." She taps her chin. "Depending on what you want it to do, it would be more like a mass of wires encased in a form to keep them solid more than a -gun- gun. But as long as it didn't overheat or shatter, that's okay? Who cares what the wrong side of a sweater looks like so long as the colorwork is on point, right?" She grins, despite the knitting nonsense spouting from her mouth. "We should take a trip to Ishgard when you feel better so we can see how they put the magic in -their- guns."

"To make the most effective aether channel, you carve a channel into the metal you are shaping, pour aethersand into it, and seal it with aether-conductive liquid, the richer the better," Eru lectured. "Hmmm...wires. I don't think wires would survive the blasting process. It would be better if the channeling medium was a /part/ of the gun body itself." He looked sternly at Mokkri. "True artisanship shows itself when you examine the inside /and/ outside of a work," he said reprovingly. Look at the wrong side of a sweater, as you say, made by the most skilled weavers, and still you will find no flaws, only skill." He shook his head. "Machinists from Ishgard utilize different methods. They would be of no use to us. Never mind that we have to consider the cartridges."

Mokkri takes a breath and rebutts, "I'm not saying to leave wires hanging on the inside of the gun portion or under it. Rather, I think that the wires that lead the gun to perform the function you want it to should be woven into a gunblade shape and the metal of the weapon itself should be cast around it, once the channels are set. Like when healing, you build from the inside out. Bones and organs and nerves and muscles and tendons all before the dermis." She lets out her deep breath after defending her take on the building. By her design, it would be more like a circuit board than a gun, but in her mind at least, it had the potential to work. She folds her arms across her chest, "Why, what is your solution to the gunblade having multiple functions?"

Eru smiled wryly. "A better description," he approved, head tilting. "I think the solution lies in the cartridges or have the gunblade serve as an amplifier," Eru said. "It could act much like a focus, could it not? At the moment you pull the trigger, you inject aether into the cartridge. Your will shapes the result, the supply of detonating aether in the cartridge serves to amplify your initial aether injection. That's one way."

"Hm...but what about for people who can't use the aether around them naturally?" Mokkri asked for a friend. "Morgan has trouble even attuning to aetherytes, how with this weapon help people like him if it's a focusing of your will and your injection of aether? Shouldn't it be a self contained weapon so more people can defend themselves with it?"

Eru tilted his head. "Hm. You could say the same of any weapon that requires a user to have robust aether," Eru said. "But, theoretically, you could make a gunblade that depends entirely upon aether-infused cartridges." He shrugged. "But that type of weapon is limiting. You'd have to depend on the strength and aetherpool of whomever was doing the infusing. And I don't need that sort of weak weapon."

"I wouldn't make a weak weapon!" Mokkri protests, reaching to scribble her notes on some blank paper. She was still dead set on this wired gun idea and it showed as she began sketching her own model on an extra page Eru had brought. "I'm gonna show you. I've got an offer to teach me enchanted goldsmithing maybe. I'll make this while you are still on bedrest and show you it works -well-."

[mokkri-valandiel]

“I can do the impossible.”

[[Post a violent, gory healing of Eru’s many wounds]]

When Mokkri came to she found herself on the couch, with a soft blanket thrown over her. A steaming cup of tea smelling of lemons sat on the table next to her. By the hearth setting something to boil was Eru, wrapped impressively almost collar to foot in bandages. He sipped at something, dark dark circles under his eye.

G'mokkri pushed herself up, entire body screaming and sore. "Ah!" she yelped, coming to in an unexpected space. She flailed, getting tangled in the blanket, further announcing her recovery and re-entrance into the land of the living. Fighting the blanket, she finally looked over at Eru. "You didn't sleep." She said flatly.

Eruantien looked Mokkri's way when she flailed awake, an eyebrow raising. "It's been a day and a half," he said, sipping at the cup of whatever it was and making a face. "I slept enough. How do you feel?"

"I feel awful." Mokkri groaned, stretching carefully. She ceases fighting the blanket, putting it up to her chin instead, then reached out for the cup of hot lemon healing. "I think I probably need to eat something," she says sheepishly from behind the delicate, expensive cup. Only the best and most refined in Eru's home. "Have I really been out for a day and a half?" she demanded. "How do you know if -you- slept. How long did you sleep? How're you feeling? Did we die? Is this the afterlife?”

Best and most refined was right. Eru smiled slightly, gesturing at the burbling pot on the hearth. "The stew you made should be almost done heating up," he said. His voice was quiet and hoarse, much different from the usually melodic and appealing quality it held. After a beat Eru lifted the pot from its hook, placing it on the table to cool a little. "I slept maybe half a day," he said, moving stiffly to sit down next to Mokkri. "And I assure you, we did not pass through Thal's gates."

"A statement I am very glad to hear affirmed," Mokkri mumbled into her tea. "I was so scared, Eruantien. I didn't know if that would work. I--I don't want you to go."

Eruantien leaned carefully over to frame Mokkri's cheek with a callused hand. Now that they were bare she could see the black vine-like scars that twined up his forearms to the elbows. "I know. And I don't plan on going," he said gently. "Thank you for the surgery."

Mokkri put her hand against his, leaning into the touch. "What happened. How finished is 'finished'? When did these scars get here? And--you're welcome. I don't really want to do it again, though."

"I'll try not to get almost killed next time then, but no promises," Eru said with a weak laugh that turned into a rough cough. He withdrew his hand to pick up his cup, taking another grimacing sip. "Well...hopefully Scarlet Feather isn't dead, and I banished the Flower. So for this round, truly finished. Oh and these?" He set down his cup and held up his arms, so Mokkri could have a better look at them. "I got these when my wife burnt the flesh off my arms."

Mokkri gasps in surprise, "She WHAT? And-but--you still want me to bury your jewelry together? After that?"

"It's a long story and it would take too long to explain," Eru said, shrugging. "But yes. I do." He leaned forward gingerly, opening the lid so the smell of the stew could start wafting through the room even as he ladled Mokkri a bowl and held it out to her along with a spoon.

G'mokkri accepted the bowl, looking dumbly at her father. "But hypothetically---if -I- did that, I don't see me surviving that encounter with you. I don't get it," she muttered, shaking her head before shoving stew in her face. It was just a simple meal with simple flavors, but it didn't taste -bad- and she had tried her best. Gesturing at Eru with her spoon she said, "Uh...does someone need to heal Scarlet Feather since she isn't dead, too?"

"Mokkri, manners," Eru said automatically as she gestured with the spoon. He ladled himself some stew, taking a bite with an approving nod before answering. "Hypothetically if you flayed my arms I would still forgive you, because you're my daughter and I'm sure there would have been a good reason," Eru said in a strangely reasonable tone. "And...well, I'm not so sure if she needs healing, but I think someone needs to look at her and her aether. As I said before, there is something incredibly strange about it. I think something must have happened to her, in the past."

G'mokkri says cautiously, "What do you -think- happened? And how far in the past? How little did you know about your void hunting companion," she chided Eru, putting her spoon back in her face.

Eruantien shrugged. "I'm not sure. Whatever is going on with her is not exactly within my realm of expertise. I left the finer matters of aetherial disturbances to Reinette. She was far more knowledgeable about them." Eru made a face at Mokkri. "Oh stop. I knew enough about her in the present, and I didn't want to pry.”

[mokkri-valandiel]

Romance novel: But will he EVER love her back?

Me, knowing full well he will: *gasp* WILL HE???

[mokkri-valandiel]

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

don’t mind me, things from isekai’d adventures and more I wanna do

[mokkri-valandiel]

Daisy Ridley in and as Ophelia (2018) 

[mokkri-valandiel]

Vengeance. Madness. The Kingdom, lost. Nothing is as it seems. Daisy Ridley in Ophelia (2019) dir. Claire McCarthy