#Eorzea versions of all of them at least

[cidnangarlond]

who are those guys in your dni (the curiouser)

emet-selch is this guy (in an edit I made):

short version he's thousands of years old and wayyyyy back in the days of PARADISE shit hit the fan and the world started uhhh ending. so half the population gave themselves t. this isn't gonna be short but anyway half the population gave themselves to make this god to save it etc etc things get even worse AGAIN somehow and to save the remainder of the world venat aka hydaelyn (capital g God in ffxiv) splits the world into 14 shards. now emet-selch manages to survive this "sundering" intact along with two of his colleagues and/or friends and they go well we know what we have to do now. which is merge the 14 pieces back. now each of the 14 "shards" has life on it. whole populations and lands and one expansion happens entirely on one of these shards and you visit another in the expansion after. there's more details with that which are very fun but basically there's life on these worlds. and emet-selch (and lahabrea and elidibus) really do Not care they are going to be exterminating like. millions of lives. and they do that! they destroy SEVEN DIFFERENT SHARDS! and fuck up most of the thirteenth so it's irreparably damaged but still around

emet-selch also went "HRMMM how can I sow maximum discourse in eorzea to bring about these horrible moments called "calamities" in which one shard is merged back with the source... oh I know!" so he founds this military empire garlemald the garlean empire (he possesses the body of a man named solus and builds the country up and declares himself emperor) to go forth and conquer and occupy lands and enslave and conscript those who live there and cause war and many other issues. to ensure the maximum amount of human strife possible. he does all this because he *checks notes* misses his friends from thousands of years ago and also *flips page* tells you directly multiple times he does not feel bad for killing what is likely millions of people and that he felt entirely justified in what he did.

unfortunately people are in love with him regardless. I think he's a great villain he's a sarcastic smarmy asshole who does a lot of posturing and he's deeply fascinating but my GOD people ship their characters with him to the high heavens for some reason. like okay "I miss my friends wah" is an insane justification for doing All Of This and he May have been tempered/under the thrall of a god for thousands of years but brooo it's been millennia just give it UPPPP it's mainly his fans that are super fucking annoying to me they try and justify everything or just loudly and unabashedly defend him. like no I want that fascist dictator DEAD I want that soggy ancient man DEAD. or at least they're so loud about their ship that that's all that matters and just will not shut up about it. OH and emet-selch is a title not his real name his REAL NAME believe it or not is HADES so you can imagine! when people write about their character in The Before Times who their soul Originally Was what name they give their character!!! it's not original in the least!!!!!

he's very snape-esque. there's a large overlap in my mind of him and his fans and snape and snape wives.

okay NOW onto zenos. pictured here alongside an old discord message:

(not pictured was them saying "he looks like he'd call me a slur" which is accurate! he probably would!)

he is emet-selch's great-grandson. he is an asshole and more or less like psychosexually obsessed with you because you're the only one who has ever posed an ounce of a challenge to him and that's why he becomes so obsessed with you and fighting you.

he's viceroy or something of one nation, ala mhigo, that garlemald has occupied for many years now and also of another, doma, in the far east, though he has this lady yotsuyu (she's an antagonist and also hot and has a shitty backstory and she DOES kill her abusive family members so. that's cool) as the acting viceroy of doma. either way he sees anyone not garlean as beneath him and refers to not only you but literally everyone else as "savages" ESPECIALLY the people who live in ala mhigo but yeah.

he just like. kills indiscriminately. he has this giant metal fucking thing with three different swords in it that he took from people he killed and lets this thing chose which sword he's gonna use at random. he treats killing as a sport he's gone pro in "wanton slaughter" he can and will and Does cut people down for no reason other than he wanted to. negative conscience. doesn't care he's crown prince of garlemald. also, emet-selch as solus "dies" thus causing a brief succession crisis before varis (zenos's dad) becomes emperor and then zenos kills him causing a full-blown war of succession in garlemald which tears the nation apart and so many different members of the royal family are fighting for the throne and ultimately all of them fucking die from killing each other and zenos naturally does not care or feel bad he's just like UGH WHERE'S THAT CHAMPION OF EORZEA (aka You)... WHERE ARE THEY... and his gay jester fandaniel is there also now he's fun.

anyway doesn't care he's in line to throne he just craves bloodsport and power and getting stronger and after you kick his ass he kills himself because he's. happy about it. that he was bested. but then his body gets possessed by one of emet-selch's old besties elidibus to cause More problems and then zenos's soul hops into another body and makes his way back before elidibus is like god you're so fucking stubborn FINE take your fuckass body back I already fought the champion of eorzea in your body I've got other shit to do more pots to stir.. goobye

fortunately when you and him fight at the end of the universe you kill him (HE BETTER BE DEAD OR I'M GONNA BE PISSED!!!) and leave him there so hopefully HOPEFULLYYYYYYY he doesn't come back. his backstory is varis fucking sucks and was a shitty father and now zenos is Like That as a result there's a short story somewhere about his childhood and this guy he had train him and then ultimately killed him and decided he was going to keep fighting and killing people to get stronger and now here we are. his fans are also so fucking annoying I hate this blonde bitch I do not think he's hot I don't care if he's got some weird predator/prey mentality when it comes to you/your character and him he's a fascist prick and I'm glad he's dead AND I HOPE HE NEVER COMES BACK. THIS BLONDE BITCH IS DEAD AND IT IS GOOD HE IS DEAD. WE DO NOT NEED TO RETURN TO HIM EVER

making fandaniel aka funnydaniel aka damndaniel his silly gay jester was fun BECAUSE. fandaniel was one of emet-selch's besties from way back when but Did get sundered so they found his soul and went Remember Who You Are and shoved him in the body of a gay little freak named. oh my god why can't I remember his name that's so funny. I had to look it up. fandaniel gets put in asahi's body. asahi was OBSESSED with zenos oh my god he saw this man cut down doman ninjas and samurai who were trying to protect their homes and their land and asahi went I Want Him. unfortunately for him zenos never gave him the time of day and died unrecognized by his favorite homicidal maniac. asahi was also the adoptive brother of yotsuyu and she killed him so good it was so cathartic *chefs kiss*. who cheered who clapped because I did. anyway so when damndaniel turns up in asahi's body - by the way when these guys do all that it's like putting a costume on to them they don't retain memories or anything of whoever they're in - he's all DO I LOOK FAMILIAR TO YOU MY LORD... and zenos is sitting there like "*checking his nails* ...no." look up the fandaniel cutscenes those are funny he's a fun villain.

but no yeah zenos he fuckin sucks I think his fans are super annoying too and also he's blonde. OH he changes into this class/job called Reaper and as such an entity from the void is attached to him he gives it souls in exchange for his powers and abilities. and you get to meet who this void being is because after he dies they change back into a human person (kinda) and HER NAME the name shes given anyway is ZERO and shes cool as fuck

what if you were from a doomed shard and ended up becoming a voidsent attached to a homicidal bastard fascist maniac and when he dies you become a person again and now you have to relearn how to be a person because it's been A LONG TIME and you learn the joy of spicy foods. and also you're a lesbian

[sjofn-lofnsdottr]

3. How do they feel about being Hydaelyn's chosen? (Feel free to break it down from ARR's "Champion of Eorzea" all the way to "The Savior of Etheirys" as much as you like. Have those feelings changed, or just grown more complex?)

9. The Warrior of Light has been through quite a lot, but what is a moment, big or small, that bolstered and renewed their spirit? Was it a cup of hot cocoa or a lovingly crafted sandwich? Did someone give them a few words or a gesture at just the right time that meant the world to them? (Of course, this can be a canon event or headcanon!)

Dusk has mixed feelings about the whole Hydaelyn's Champion thing. He doesn't mind being the one all this pressure gets piled onto, and in fact really appreciates that being Hydaelyn's Special Boy comes with some extra boosts of power that help him help more people than he could've.

But he really doesn't like the focus it brings on him, specifically. He doesn't like that it feels like people forget how many people helped him along the way, how everything he's done he likely would've failed to do if he didn't have so much support. Not just from the Scions, who at least do get some acknowledgement, but even from Rando NPC #8 who gave him some little bit of information that made whatever he was doing easier, or some words of thanks that helped remind him what he was even doing all of this for. He does not like being the focal point, because it feels like robbing other people of their contributions, but he also understands 'this guy Did the Thing!' is a lot easier to grasp and hold onto than 'thousands of people contributed in ways big and small to putting him in the right place and time to do the thing.'

He also struggles with feelings of being unreal when he hears what people say about the Warrior of Light. It's such an idealized version of himself, he sometimes feels like his real self gets lost. He's grateful for the people in his life that see that real self and help him stay grounded.

And my answer to the other question is related to that. In the lead up to Ravanna, when we learn he's essentially blocking our little quest, Alphinaud volunteers you to fight him without asking your opinion on it, like he's volunteered you for shit without asking so many times before. He's still treating you a bit like a servant, or worse, a tool. But Estinien essentially calls him out for pledging another person's life without even asking the person in question.

Estinien probably wasn't doing it to stand up for Dusk, specifically, but the huge relief that Dusk felt that there was someone there who didn't just assume Dusk would solve all the problems without needing to hear his opinion on it was still there. That it seemed to actually make Alphie really think about how he'd been treating Dusk up until then - he even apologizes, if I remember right? - was also a pretty big turning point in their relationship.

So, a small moment, but one that was really important to Dusk.

Thank you for the asks!

[crossroadsdimension]

FFXIVWrite 2024 Day 14

Prompt -- Telling

(FFXIVWrite 2024 Masterpost)

(Be warned -- Dawntrail spoilers below, post-first dungeon!)

“Say, um, Cross?”

The miqo’te turned her head slightly, glancing at the speaker with a flick of her ears and a slightly raised brow. “Wuk Lamat? What is it?”

The Second Promise sat down next to the Warrior of Light at the campfire, glancing between Cross and the campfire like they held some secret she couldn’t figure out. “Um…Erenville told me about all of your adventures, but…he acted like he didn’t know everything. Just like some of it was a bunch of rumors.”

Cross inclined her head and waited for Wuk Lamat to keep going. For whatever reason, the young woman needed time to get her thoughts together, and Cross knew when she had to be patient.

“Is…is it true? That you traveled to the edge of the universe? Did that part really—”

“It happened.”

Wuk Lamat turned her head sharply as her eyes went wide. “What? Really? I thought Erenville was pulling my leg when he said you traveled to the edge of the universe to stop the skies from turning red! You’re telling me that — that the people in Sharlayan really have a boat that can take you up into the sky and sail through the stars like it’s a giant sea?”

“Yes?” Cross’s mouth quirked upwards, amused. “Now you have me wondering what sorts of things you heard that you thought were rumors. Everyone in Old Sharlayan and across Eorzea knows I traveled to Ultima Thule to save the star, at least, so you could have confirmed that part of the tale before we’d left.”

It would be a little hard to confirm it now if Wuk Lamat went looking for people outside of their little group. Camping out at Many Fires didn’t give them a lot of people from across the salt to speak with.

“I-I thought it was merely a tale people told to say you were great enough to do something like that,��� Wuk Lamat said quickly. “It does explain a few things about what Erenville said, though. But now I’ve only got more questions.”

Cross motioned to the fire. “Well, I am on watch, and it’s not like we need to be anywhere right now. We might as well get them out of your system before we go much deeper into the Rites.”

Wuk Lamat’s eyes brightened in an excited way that made Cross almost laugh. “I-is it true that you stopped a huuuuge war between people and dragons? Erenville said that one sounded even more crazy.”

“No, that one’s true, too.”

“How?”

Cross chuckled, but the sound came out fond and a little sad. “That is a very long story. I don’t think we’ll have time for it tonight.”

“Th-the shortened version is fine! Please, Cross?”

“All right, all right….”

Meanwhile, just on the other side of one of the shelters in Many Fires, Koana sat with his ears pricked as he listened to the conversation happening faintly on the other side.

“There’s nothing stopping you from moving closer,” remarked Thancred from his spot by the fire. “I doubt that your sister would notice.”

Koana frowned, then shook his head and moved closer to the fire, rather than closer to the other encampment. “I cannot help but wonder how much of your experience in the Scions is fact or fiction. Even among Sharlayan scholars, there are many who have their doubts.” He paused. “Is…is it true that you traveled to another star and found there proof of the ancient civilization that the Ascians were once a part of? With their advanced, lost technology?”

“Where did you hear all that?”

Koana ducked his head a little. “Hearsay, mostly. Debates over the contents of the most recently-released encyclopedia that covers recent events and locales not-yet-explored by Sharlayan scholars.”

“Aaah. I’m not surprised that’s how you found out.” Thancred chuckled and shook his head. “Yes, tis all true. We have traveled to a reflection of this star, and seen proof of the Ancients with our own eyes.”

“How? Is there any way the rest of us can access it and learn of their technologies?”

“That isn’t important to your current task, is it?”

Koana blinked, then frowned. “It could be. Something they do on their star could help us improve our lives here.”

“Oh, I highly doubt that. The people there are still trying to pull themselves together after a few rather cataclysmic events, after all. Very little of what they know would be able to help.”

“Cataclysmic?” Koana repeated. “You mean…the tales of rampant Light aether were correct? That—” He glanced over his shoulder, like his sister and one of her chosen companions would appear around the corner of the building right that second. He looked back at Thancred and lowered his voice. “That Cross Sylvan was nearly turned into a monster of opposite aetheric polarity to a voidsent?”

Thancred tapped one side of his nose, smirking at Koana. “Do you want to ask me to tell that tale, or Cross? For that part of our journeys on the First is not mine to tell.”

Koana frowned like he’d been caught. He set his jaw a little. “Then what are you willing to tell me?”

“Hmmm….” Thancred leaned back, glancing at the building that stood between their and Wuk Lamat’s camps in Many Fires. “How about we speak of the Crystarium?”

“The city supposedly run by the Student of Baldesion, G’raha Tia, for one hundred years?”

“Not ‘supposedly.’ Although speaking of the Crystal Exarch and his tale would require you to stretch your belief a little more than you already have.”

Urianger, lying on a nearby bedroll, turned over and gave the two of them a withering look. “Might I impress upon thee how important it is that rest be found at this time of night? Thou can speak on the intricacies of survival in the worst of situations when light has dawned.”

Thancred held up his hands and bowed his head to his astrologian companion, while Koana sighed and shook his head.

“Very well,” Koana said. “The Feat of Gold will not be won with tired mines. I will ask about this…’Crystarium’ in the morning.”

Thancred grinned at him, then returned to his bed roll when Urianger’s disapproving look persisted.

Then the elezen’s gaze turned to Koana. “Rest. I have no doubt we will be safe this night.”

“Because of your companions with Wuk Lamat?” Koana asked.

“Indeed. You will find naught happens that Cross will not be aware of. Rest. Thou willst need it.”

Koana wanted to ask where Urianger got that idea from, but the Archon had already turned over and gone back to rest.

He sighed and quietly shook his head before lying back on his own bedroll.

What strange traveling companions these former Scions made.

[shadowed-vigil]

day 11: surrogate

noun: a substitute, especially a person deputizing for another in a specific role or office.

characters: warrior of light, carvallain de gorgagne word count: 1614 takes place just before 5.0; a continuation of sorts from day 4: reticent. explicit. sorry, carv. 

He doesn’t see her again for at least a full summer after the expedition to Kugane. 

She had thanked him before she’d stepped off his ship, diplomatic and polite, color in her cheeks all the same. He had hoped that his answering smile had been one of reassurance. Awkward encounters and all the rest, it didn’t matter; it isn’t as if he bore her any ill will. 

There are promises, and then there are secrets. Carvallain knows full well how to keep both. 

And so he does, and so it goes, until the inevitable.

It isn’t a surprise when he does see her next — always more a matter of when than if when it comes to Eorzea’s champion skittering about the docks of Limsa Lominsa. His first glimpse of her is of her hair flashing pale in the sunlight as she hurries her way past the Aftcastle — as she pauses, blinking when she catches sight of him. Too cordial for her own good, perhaps; she needn’t spare the effort on his account, but he returns her wave with a smile all the same. 

He’s somewhat surprised that she bothers to find him at all later. “I think I owe you,” she tells him, and at his dubious look, she holds up her hands, explains hastily, “A drink! I owe you a drink. And perhaps some better conversation, to make up for the last one.” 

“As I recall, that was more a failing on my part.” 

“Then I’ll take the lead this time.” 

“Only if you insist.” 

“I would never insist,” she sniffs. “Just an offer. I just… well. I feel a bit…” 

His turn, this time, to hold up a hand. 

“Think nothing of it.” 

So he accepts her invitation — lets her treat him to it, the ale at the Bismarck as good as any other, watches her face as she takes a long swig. The sigh of relief, a small smile. 

Still modest; still polite. Still tension bleeding through on the edges. At this point he thinks it may as well just be part of her, some sort of shadow ever present in the knit of her brow, even as she fills him in on her latest exploits; because of course he’d heard the news from Ala Mhigo, but not her version; the standard tales of heroism, fearsome battles, her supposed ability to breathe underwater now, because, of course — 

Carvallain leans back in his chair. She must catch his careful eye because she relaxes — the guise of relaxation, anyway, taking another sip of her drink. 

Says, smiling, “So. Is Rhoswen keeping well?” 

Carvallain blinks. “As well as you’d expect, I’d suppose — better when I steer clear of her way.” 

Arcelia laughs, delicate and clear as crystal. “Please. I think you may both just be fools.” 

“You think so? I tend to take people at face value.” 

“How dreadfully pragmatic of you.” She takes another sip, eyeing him over the rim. “Perhaps Limsa does suit you better.” 

“I should hope so.”

She clicks her tongue. 

He doesn’t hurry the conversation, content to let her steer them as she chooses — mildly surprised to see her veer so close to territory he’d planned on keeping to a careful minimum.

“I was actually just in Ishgard,” she says, finally. “You’ll be happy to know that Restoration efforts are still underway and moving along.” 

“I am,” he says. 

She pauses again, nails rapping restlessly against the tabletop. She takes a deep breath, lips slightly parted like the words are at the tip of her tongue; like she can’t quite figure out how to say what she wants. 

Thankfully, there’s still ale yet in her cup — the last bit of liquid courage she seems to need to speak.

“Truth be told, I probably shouldn’t even be here.” She runs a hand through her hair. “The Scions are — well. Something’s come up, and they aren’t…” She pauses, frowns. “Well. It’s just me right now,” which has him raise a brow in alarm, multiple questions springing to mind, but she just goes on, “running around trying to make ends meet, and with the aftermath in Ala Mhigo and all the rest, it’s just been…” 

“Stressful.” 

She flashes a bemused smile. “To say the least.” 

“The others — are they alright?” 

“...They will be.”

Silence settles over them, flagons on the table. The din of the other patrons simmers to near nothing as the late hour dwindles, the ocean breeze blowing in gently from outside, the faint crash of the waves down against the docks. 

“Carv,” she says softly.

There’s that bump of her knee against his again, but she doesn’t flinch this time. She looks tired. She looks solemn. She — 

Stands up. Carvallain blinks in surprise.

“A walk might be nice,” she suggests. “It’s a clear night, full moon. I drank quite a bit; I could use a little sobering up anyway.” 

And, well. What sort of gentleman would let his company stumble out into the night alone. 

—

Of course, they do walk for a time. He offers her his arm because it’s the polite thing to do, and she takes it, seemingly content to lean in at his side.

They wander from the upper docks to the lower, eventually ending up down at the shipyard, staring up at The Misery. Some part of him isn’t sure why he guided them here, quick to blame it on the drink. Another part of him knows better. 

“What will you do, after this?” he asks her. Mild and polite. Carefully unassuming.

“Head back to the Rising Stones, I suppose.” There’s a beat of silence, a shuffling of her feet. “...Not that I’m in a particular hurry to return.” 

He can’t help the wry note from creeping in. “...Is that so.” 

The pretense falls away bafflingly quickly. “We don’t have to.” 

“We really don’t,” he agrees. 

Her grip on his forearm tightens regardless.

—

In truth, he brings her to his quarters expecting a repeat of before; a few chaste kisses, a press of her body against his, the standard song and dance that would get them at least stumbling towards the bed. That the moment her fingers managed to fumble open the last of the buttons on his shirt, she would freeze — that she’d get that guilty look about her again, some kind of haunted look reflected in her eyes before she’d skitter back off into the night.

But she doesn’t. This time, it’s different. 

This time she openly gasps against his mouth when she manages to straddle him, some kind of desperate whine stuck in her throat when he grips her waist to steady her, to guide her, her cunt brushing warm against the strain in his trousers. Her hands are clumsy, sure, but purposeful enough in their quest to help rid him of his clothes; where she struggles, he’s quick to pick up the slack, graciously working the laces of her bodice free, her dress cast aside, his trousers soon after. 

Nothing left in the way, she wastes no time. She shifts, licks her lips and takes him in hand and he — 

Oh.

Her mouth is warm and wet as she sinks over him, her tongue laving along his length as she goes. The image of her peering up at him through the dark sweep of her lashes, her mouth full and her cheeks flushed, is nearly too much for him to bear. He wants to tangle a hand in her hair, some filthy urge to push her down fully, to see if she would sputter or choke — to see how much the Warrior of Light could take. 

(He wonders if she’d like that. She works at him diligently, but he catches the charged spark of something in her eye — almost contentious, daring —) 

It isn’t hard to coax her down onto her back, legs spread wide, her bottom lip swollen from where she bites down in anticipation. Her breath catches when he slicks himself against her, an eager rock of her hips, fingers knotting in his hair, and he — 

Pauses.

He has to scrape together the last bits of his sanity to do so; not because he wants to, but because she pauses — a heartbeat of a thing, a flutter of hesitation.

It doesn’t really matter that she isn’t quite looking at him — he knows better than to expect anything meaningful from a simple tryst, particularly with someone as flighty as her — but there’s that furrow of her brow, that wistful look, the almost wince before he’s even in her —

But then she bristles.

“I won’t break.” 

“Arcelia —” 

“Don’t.” She begs him, a strangled gasp stuck in her throat, her hands still tangled in his hair. Her hips roll in earnest, her cunt soaked and needy, “Please, just — please —” 

Which —

Fuck.

Who was he to deny her?

—

“Limsa suits you,” she tells him later before she inevitably leaves, her voice quiet and hollow. “But the influence certainly lingers.” 

He can’t tell if it’s tinged with some sort of comfort or grief. 

(He wonders if he was close enough.)

Regardless — he doesn’t bother asking. 

He can keep promises and secrets, but not all questions need answers. 

—

(Besides — several summers later, when it’s all over and done, he gets his eventual answers anyway; sees them for himself, the two vaguely familiar Ishgardian men hovering close to her as they walk through Hawkers Alley together. One’s hand rests gently at her back, while the other stays clasped tight with hers.

For once, he notices, she isn’t in a rush. For once, she seems to be at peace.

She still smiles at him when he catches her eye from across the way. 

He, of course, smiles back.)

[angelinecarax]

Angeline has so many of her moms, I'm going to spotlight today only two, a pair and matched set - Aniss and Poonguzhali, nicknamed 'Ali.

While the initial group formed around and out of the scientific and research team that had initially recovered the baby they would go on to adopt and name Angeline, Aniss and 'Ali had distinguished themselves as the only pair of gleaners that could secure the increasingly-esoteric and worrying materiel the research group required. When those requests suddenly dried up completely (and then when each member of the group started to act increasingly strange) did the two of them think to do a little investigating themselves.

They discovered Angeline's existence and were convinced that somehow these insane fucking scientists stole a baby to experiment on it somehow, maybe feed it to voidsent or something. One barely foiled kidnapping slash rescue attempt later, Kokobe's able to get everyone to calm down and drink a little, they explain about the portal and the baby now, and Aniss and 'Ali feel at least a little responsible. In some kind of way they've already been in.

Bonding with the other mothers was far less smooth and successful, with brief hot periods followed by loooong cold periods. One of these cold periods bring them back to New Sharlayan where the end up spending half their time, and where they promise they'll bring Angeline, a place that seemed like a dream version of her home, but wild and free and on the cutting edge instead of constrained in the innermost heart of the box to end all boxes.

And then.... when Angeline was 5 or so, New Sharlayan was abandoned over the course of a few days. 'Ali and Aniss were among the most vocal of the last remaining holdouts to try to stay. Returning to Old Sharlayan without much of a choice drove a permanent wedge between them and the other mothers.

This sets the two of them up very easily and neatly to be "the cool moms" for the majority of Angeline's childhood and young adolescence, swooping in with great stories and great presents from far-off places, but it was gutting every time they left again and devastating when Angeline realized their dissent wouldn't mean much against the other moms as a unit - and, most importantly, they wouldn't be here enough to dissent at all.

When Angeline became an adult, however, the two of them were her fiercest champions and sponsors to convince the others that she was capable enough to handle herself in Eorzea. They'd know better than anyone else, wouldn't they, with all of their experience?

Hard to argue with that!

@wildknightblaze thank you again!! hee hee, didn't expect this to get so long

📧tag game postbox --> Secret OC Ask List

[ffxiv-krhistia]

(Excuse me **I NEED** to make the Bio for Khit'li's miqo version for @midnyte-muses and I don't want to do an OOC post for it without just letting shit flow cause i got the hot iron and music lol)

Name: Khit'li L'ocar Aliases: Khit'li Solar-pan, Khit, Dumbasscat, Khriss Age: at least 37, possibly older. Gender: Male, He/They Sexuality: Greysexual. Family: He has memories of otherworldly families, but largely knowing his mental health, it could just be "ALL IN HIS HEAD". He's seen things in his 'dreams' or 'memories' as he calls them, that elude to having kids, a husband and siblings.

Height: around 6'0-6'2 Hair: Blue with reddish-purple streaks. Eyes: Heterchromia: one blue one red eye Notable features: Keeper of the moon Miqote, jokingly referred to "Chai Nuzz's grandson"

Bio:

Khit'li L'ocar was born of unknown origin assumed to be of Eorzea, though through careful study it may be of consideration the lineage may indeed hail from Meracydia. Sometimes a loveable jackass, and sometimes a loveable dumbass. Aetherial disturbance doesn't seem to be the key to diangosing his troubles: He suffers from a disorder that is undeniable, and frustrating. One could call it a personality disorder, where one could indeed wake up with another face and go on about their day. It's clearly more than that to Khit'li, as he feels he's not from the same place everyone says he's from. Apart what feels like he's waking up as someone else regularly, he gets visions of another era, another place entirely. Though to the uneducated these are just dreams, creativity you write down on a piece of paper to pen your next novel to put on Eorzean bookshelves.

-- Note: This is won't be official for the muse blog YET, there's rewrites and now i'm gonna get the Viera done in a second. I legit just wanted to spam old Miqote pics of our FFXIV char and write lmao.

[serengeral-alaan]

A brief retrospective on the FF14 2.0 storyline, since I re-finished it recently

Pretty good overall as far as an RPG story goes, while still of course the weakest out of all the MSQ storylines. 

Main issue, I think, is that it spends a lot of time worldbuilding and setting up conflicts, but struggles to get players as emotionally invested in the immediate conflicts due to it focusing on worldbuilding and setting things up over having the PC interact with deeply interesting characters. The Scions aren't...awful in 2.0, but between their frumpy character designs, awkward voice direction in EN, and clumsy initial chemistry, it's hard to feel emotionally invested in the Scions. Meanwhile, the WoL at this point is just some no name adventurer who's not even from Eorzea, so our PC isn't a good avenue for emotional investment in the initial plotline either. 

 The lack of truly interesting villains doesn't help. Gaius Van Baelsar has a weird might-makes-right philosophy and seems to mostly want to conquer Eorzea because he despises the "barbaric" Eorzean society, while Lahabrea in 2.0 is not much more than a cackling loon who wants to bring his dark god back for...reasons. The tribes are a bit more nuanced, but even with Y'shtola and the city-state leaders admitting that the conflict between the city states and the tribes is pretty gray, we don't really see much from the tribes' perspective to make the conflict feel truly tragic or ambiguous. 

 All this means the overall 2.0 story does not have the emotional beats that the later expacs are known for, and the lack of such moments in 2.0 really helps add to the perception that 2.0's story is...fine, but nothing outstanding compared to the other expacs or even other well-written RPG stories.

 As for the plot of 2.0 itself, it's overall fine. I don't think the Titan questline is as bad as it's made out to be, and if you bother to talk to the lesser Scions at the Waking Sands, suddenly losing most of them to the Garlean raid is actually kinda shocking. Rather, IMO the real low point is the annoying runaround you have to do to get all the corrupted aether crystals in the leadup to Garuda--at least in the Titan storyline you got to talk to the Company of Heroes and hear some interesting perspectives on what it means to be a hero, whereas in Garuda it's a constant chain of "Sorry but your properly-aligned corrupted aether crystal is in another castle" messages. 

 Lastly, one major black mark on 2.0's record:  the EN version of Lahabrea getting smote after the last solo duty is *cringe*. It felt like something that came out of a bad children's saturday morning cartoon. 

Beyond those mentioned lowpoints, 2.0's story didn't feel bad. It just didn't have a lot of those high points that later expacs do, and while worldbuilding and setting up later conflicts is all well and good, such things have a hard time drawing in newer players. As is often pointed out to me by skilled writers, worldbuilding is something you do to make your interesting story work, not something you do instead of an interesting story. Seeing how the conflicts plaguing Eorzea are laid out in 2.0 is neat and all, but if a player doesn't care about Eorzea that much in the first place, that worldbuilding doesn't mean much.

[abeat]

22 - Fulsome

“What do you mean that gorgeous viera in there is your father?!” Lavender shook Joey repeatedly.

“What-more-did-you-want-me-to-say-Chef-should-I-start-writing-my-autobiography?!” Joey spoke through rattled breath as the viera woman continued shaking him.

“I - oooh - sorry, Sous Chef!” Lavender finally stopped shaking her dear friend. “I just…I just…well I have a massive hangover and now this!”

“Glad it cured you of your hangover at least…” Joey grumbled as he waited for the world to stop spinning.

“Oooh I’m sorry!” Lavender let go of him finally. “I just mean - you - him - I - just explain!”

The gorgeous viera man and bringer of apparent chaos and confusion stuck his head out into the hallway of the free company. “I don’t mean to eavesdrop, but if you come back inside and sit down, maybe we can discuss this? Instead of, you know, out here where everyone can hear us?” He offered with a slight grin on his face. “I mean it’s not like the origins of my own son are a secret from me.”

“O-oooh!” Lavender realized she had been acting foolish. Even by her own standards. “Oooh you’re right…I’m sorry..” She turned back to Joey. “Sorry, Sous Chef..”

“Let’s just go inside.” The other viera rubbed his head.

They returned to her quarters. She had always loved having company, and as such she kept a small portion of the room private for herself and the rest of the room furnished with a variety of chairs and tables. She even had her own mini bar, although she did not want any more alcohol at the moment.

Even if it felt like she might want some soon.

“How about some tea?” Joey offered as he went over to her mini bar. Indeed, along with her collection of cider, spirits and wine, she kept an even bigger collection of tea. Normally Lavender would get up to assist him, but her pounding headache told her to sit down so she could take in the entire situation. Besides, Joey was Sous Chef for a reason - more than capable of making tea.

Father and son, when they looked as though they could easily be twin brothers.

She could only imagine how startling the fulsome version of the story would be.

Joey brought over some tea. Lavender recognized the golden hue of her beloved, faithful oolong tea, and what seemed to be peppermint tea for Syo and Joey both.

“Thanks, son.” Syo smiled. He took a sip of his tea. Once he had a good gulp of the hot beverage, he put his cup back down. “So, er, who should start?”

“Maybe you should since it started with you in the first place?” Joey offered helpfully. “I can fill in the gaps.”

“All right.” Syo nodded as he turned to Lavender. “Well…it’s like this…”

Syo then told her such a fantastic story that she could scarce believe it. She had few questions or comments as the pair of them filled in all of the pertinent details as they went along. Lavender went between sipping the cool water that Syo had brought over and carefully sipping her oolong tea as she learned of their origin story.

She thought her own life in Eorzea was messed up. Evidently she had been living a simple life when compared to these two, and her own life was nothing short of bizarre. Especially when her younger sisters were a miqo’te, an au ra and a lalafell, going from oldest to youngest. Whenever she introduced her sisters to anyone and people assumed they were adopted by some kindly woman, Lavender never corrected them.

The fulsome truth boggled her own mind sometimes. Especially since they were all, in fact, related by blood. Even her miqo’te sister with skin as pale as the moon. The fact that the story of Syo and Joey could boggle her mind said a lot about their own origins. Not that she could ultimately judge them for it, or really say anything given her own origins.

“I…wow…” Lavender rubbed her head. “You two have been through a lot.”

“Eh, is what it is.” Syo rubbed the back of his head.

Joey looked to the side. “That’s why I don‘t like to talk about it.”

She sipped her tea again. “I promise not to tell anyone, not even my sisters, without your permission. Though if anyone asks me about you two, what should I say?”

“Tell them he’s my son and say nothing else just to see the look on their face.” Syo grinned at her, which made Lavender laugh.

“They can always ask us if you forget something.” Joey added.

“All right..” Lavender drank some more water. Whether it was the copious amounts of water with lemon or the magical healing properties of her favourite oolong tea, she could feel her headache start to abate slowly.

“How long are you here for?” Joey asked his father.

“It seems like a fun place to explore, so probably for a little while.” Syo answered as he helped himself to some of the baked treats Lavender always kept handy in her room.

“Join our linkshell. That way we can all talk to each other if you need something,” said Joey. The viera had always been focused on helping people first and foremost.

“Maybe we can go traveling together too.” Syo grinned at his son.

“I… don’t want to bother you….” Joey looked to the side. Given everything she had heard, Lavender wondered if her friend felt a bit awkward around his father. She could completely understand that.

“You never bother me. I’m sorry for not being there.” Syo put a hand on Joey’s shoulder.

Joey nodded vaguely and sipped his tea. He didn’t say anything as he put the empty cup on the table. It didn’t seem like he did anything in particular, but Lavender saw Syo put two fingers to his left ear. “Here’s the invite. I’ll finish Chef’s laundry.”

“Oh I can do my own laundry, you two go ahead-”

“I already started! You stay here and get the alcohol out of your system.” Joey narrowed his eyes at her. He had always been a good friend first and foremost, although his tolerance for her nonsense only went so far. It seemed she had hit it today.

Lavender hung her head. “Thank you, Sous Chef.”

“Good, good.” Joey nodded as he went to collect the discarded laundry basket from earlier. Refilling it with clothes, her own and his it seemed, he left the room to do his laundry magic.

Leaving her alone with Syo, which was perhaps Joey’s actual intention all along.

“How’re you feeling?” Syo grinned at her.

“A mixture of having my mind blown and feeling like an idiot.” Lavender replied honestly as she drank tea.

“The two feelings mixing into a cocktail?” Syo chuckled lightly at his own joke.

Lavender giggled. “It’s definitely the strongest drink I’ve had in awhile..”

His laughter raised into its usual wholehearted volume before he drank tea. “Like I said before, next time if you have something on your mind, how about you just come talk to me about it? It’ll be even easier now that I’m in your linkshell.”

“Ah…yeah…ah ha ha ha..” Lavender answered sheepishly.

“So, what drove you to drink so much?” Syo asked. He looked friendly enough, but his eyes bore into hers. She had the feeling he would not accept anything short of the whole truth.

Lavender drank more tea. “Do you have time for one more long story?”

Syo leaned forward until his elbows rested on his knees. “I have all the time in the world.”

-

Thank you to @adeat for Joey and Syo!

[wilanserulia]

It took me a while to write, but since my outline of Wilan's story was so well received (thank you!) I finally got around to writing an synopsis of my other FFXIV OC, Delen. Again this will just be a very short rough rundown, but if what you've read of my little blorbos sounds interesting to you consider checking out my ongoing collection of fanfics involving them, Tales from Beyond the Horizon, especially if you're into introspection.

Delen Aldanea was born in a Garlean occupied Terncliff, the former capital of what once was the nation of Werlyt. Her father had been conscripted shortly after her birth and would find death while being forced to take part in the push to conquer Eorzea, which left Delen's mother to grow her by herself.

Growing up under the occupation meant the young Delen received a formal Garlean education, as part the edict mandated by the regent Gaius van Baelsar. She is versed in Literature and visual arts of the Empire as well as its History, at least the emperor-approved version of events.

Being educated with what amounted to blatant propaganda though didn't quite manage to win the girl's loyalty, nor that of many of her peers brought up outside of one of Gaius's notorious orphanages. Baelsar's soldiers enforced a strict curfew and were particularly plased to punish those stepping out of line. Any word of dissent, any tale pertaining to how life used to be better before the occupation, had to be exchanged in hushed whispers.

In this hostile environment, Delen quickly learned not to draw any unnecessary attention upon herself. She was a calm, quiet and unassuming girl, and despite having a sharp mind and strong opinions she had learned the value of biting her tongue and keeping quiet. She would often spend her days listening to the radio, or looking out at sea from one of the city's many vantage points, cradled by the sound of the waves clashing against the cliffs.

Then, Baelsar fell.

The news of the Black Wolf's demise during his campaign to conquer Eorzea reached Werlyt like a shockwave, throwing everything into chaos. Whispers and rumors celebrated a mysterious figure known as the Warrior of Light as their benefactor, and while even catching glimpses of such debates would have warranted extensive punishment from the guards, in the wake of Baelsar's death the entire administrative system of the imperial province was scrambling to get things under control, to appoint the next Legatus of the XIVth legion.

For many, that was the chance to escape.

The smugglers flocked attracted by the carcass of Baelsar faster than any humanitarian help could. The chaos wouldn't last long, and despite their prices being outrageous, many werlytians preferred to pay them rather than risk losing their chance.

Delen's mother was one such people. She got word that the smugglers would be rounding up people by a beach below the cliffs in a few nights, and she and her daughter got rid of everything they could sell to put together enough money to afford the journey. Their house, their furnitures, their good clothes, whatever few jewelry they had, even their red hair they sold to the garlean wigmakers.

And they barely put together enough money for one.

Some time later, still in shock and barely aware of her surroundings, Delen disembarked from a boat onto the coasts of Eorzea. Around her there were plenty of voices, many of them in languages from the colonies in the far east she couldn't recognize, but none of it seemed to get through to her. As the other travelers, weary and tired from the long journey, started boarding caravans for one last stretch toward Ul'dah, Delen wandered off, sat on the edge of a dock and stood there, looking out at the sea, crimson from the sunset, gazing into the distance as if looking for all that she left beyond the horizon.

She didn't know it. As the night came to board the boat that would smuggle them to open waters, Delen was shocked to see her mother stay behind, to be denied boarding.

She choked off a scream as she heard the guards catching her on the shore and executing her on the spot.

It was there that she was noticed by an adventurer, there to help the refugees in that step of their journey. He approached her, introduced himself as Wilan, a name that made her heart skip a beat, but she would otherwise remain silent. Determined to reach out to her, unable to convince her to rejoin the others, and somehow acting as if he was eerily aware of the tragedies that had befell her, the man offered Delen a place to stay at his home despite barely knowing her, and even to "employ" her as an assistant to aid her in her immigration paperwork.

Not too long after, signatures were placed, and he brought her home, in Vylbrand. However Delen didn't feel rejoiced by this turn of events.

Once alone, once that house's door had closed behind them, she lashed out at him, violently lamented her misfortunes, of having attracted the attention of none other than the Warrior of Light, the killed of Gaius van Baelsar himself, a person of considerable power she couldn't oppose, somebody who abused her weakness to make her his slave.

That his country's supposed benefactor would turn out to be yet another jailer, that was too much for her. She finally broke her silence and lashed out at him.

Wilan, who had spectacularly failed to view things from her point of view, tried in vain to tell her she had the wrong of it. She refused to listen, it all appeared clear to her without needing words to muddle things. She locked herself in a room.

That night, they both had a lot to think about, and while going over the events of the day and some of his belongings, she started to warm up to the idea that maybe he wasn't the monster she believed him to be.

She woke up the morning after to Wilan's apologies. He had been too impulsive, done things without thinking. He'd provide a meal for her, and then he would make her paperwork void so that she'd have no bonds with him, and in that case he'd try to recommend her some other place to go where she could find work.

But she had also made up her mind from the night before. Now that things were calmer, she could indeed see this Wilan, Baelsar's grandiose dethroner, as a simple but well-meaning man.

She ended up agreeing to his offer, on the condition that she could actually earn her pay.

When Wilan had offered her to stay at his house, he mentioned it'd be empty anyway as he would often not be home. And true to his word, shortly after having made sure Delen was set up and indipendent, he disappeared again on another journey across Eorzea.

The solitude however didn't bother Delen, who instead was glad of having a chance to enjoy the quiet, to process her own traumas. She would often take long walks by the cliffs, the sound of the sea being one of the few things that would give her comfort, that would remind her of home.

One day Wilan came back, but only because his duties had conducted him back to Vylbrand. The Primal Leviathan was on the rise, and the Admiral planned to board Wilan onto a raft and send him out to the open sea. Delen protested for the absurdity of that plan, and was shocked to see a look of resigned acceptance on Wilan's face. She insisted on waiting for his return and, sure enough, when he was rescued he had been beaten within an ilm of death.

She would spend the following days caring for him, nursing him back to health, despite being many times reminded that she shouldn't consider that one of her duties. She was just too angry to do otherwise, having taken the measure of that man and seen him abused like that.

She wouldn't leave him side until he was restored back to health, but this prolonged intimacy would sow the seeds of a deeper affection between them.

Then, one day, coming back from the city with fresh produce she bumped into a group of adventurers and, in particular, a miqo'te girl by the name of D'jihlli Rhez.

In the following months, Wilan would keep coming and going from home, until one day a rumor returned in his stead. A rumor that he had plotted to kill Ul'dah's Sultana.

She refused to believe it. She couldn't, she knew Wilan, and either the rumors were wrong or there was a lot more to this story. She insisted on going on with her life, but even though he was only sporadically home, that house already felt somewhat emptier.

Having recently moved with her brother from Gridania to open a bar and having recognized in the melancholic eyes of that quiet girl a kindred spirit, D'jihlli insisted on befriending the auri girl. With much effort she convinced her to let her be introduced many of aspect of the modern adventurer's lifestyle. She lended her some of her earnings to let herself buy some new, trendier clothes, she invited her to hang out and chat at her brother's bar, and even to take part in Limsa Lominsa's night life.

After months of barely having made any progress, of having landed on Vylbrand's shores but never having really moved from there, eventually Delen finally managed to start like she belonged there. She had a friend, and she had started living her life again.

Then, the day came where she could find out by herself. Wilan had send word to Delen that he was coming home.

Wilan became part of their conversations pretty soon. D'jihlli, despite her lively and outgoing personality was actually a good observer, and noting the frequency with which she mentioned the hyuran man she started to suspect there were feelings between them. When asked directly about it, however, she denied.

D'jihlli figured she probably hadn't even realized it herself.

The man had taken a protracted absence, tangled in Ishgard's Thousand Years war and delaying his return even after his name back home had been cleared, but that still failed to explain his greatly different appearance. Delen could hardly see any trace of the man she once knew, cloaked as he was within an aura of formal gestures and polished language.

But she was determined to see through it. She sat him down with him, ale in hand, and wouldn't give up until she found out what was wrong.

As it would turn out, proven by the many traumas he had been forced to endure and crumbling below the weight of the expectations placed upon him, Wilan had created an "heroic persona" of sorts to wear like a mask in a hope to shield his true, much more frail self.

She managed to let him talk, and in doing so she had crossed one of the biggest boundaries they had between themselves. Despite neither of them having recognized it before, tonight they close like never before.

They felt connected.

And yet things certain feelings couldn't be just folded and put back into a heart.

Just for one night, at least.

That couldn't last. Wilan wouldn't allow it. He had always been very adamant about never getting tangled in a romantic relationship, as he believed it could never work with the role he had to play.

Delen knew it. She respected it. In the end, she even accepted it.

Luckily they would have to part ways for the time being, as Delen, having put together almost all her courage to board a ship again for the first time ever sicne she got to Vylbrand, had decided to finally agree to D'jihlli's offer to go for a tour of Eorzea's city-states.

Her first stop is, of course, in Vesper Bay. Now a couple years removed from her original arrival on the distant shores of Eorzea, Delen can't help picturing herself back in that moment, seeing herself as that young, small, weakened and lonely girl who, like in that song from the radio, was looking for her home beyond the horizon.

On her journey she would see firshand the many wonders of Eorzea, but also the many refugees camps, brimming with people escaped from the colonies in far greater numbers for the city-states of Eorzea to accomodate, crossing the Shroud after being denied stay, wasting away outside Ul'dah's walls.

Her journey across the realm she now calls home gives her the motivation to take up arms and a battle training as well. She wants to be an adventurer, like the most important people in her life are.

And who better to teach her than Wilan? He's the strongest fighter she knows of.

But, of course, it would also be a chance for them to spend time together.

The two of them had an understanding that a relationship wasn't going to happen. They couldn't, however, just turn off the feelings they had for each other. Wilan gave her a Soul Crystal, trained her to be a Red Mage, and in the following months they grew close together, their affection finding another way to bring them closer despite the barricades Wilan had raised around himself.

Until, however, he realized they grew too close. And he got scared.

The both of them burned by the rejection, they took some time apart from each other. Encouraged by her friend Jill, Delen decided a change of air was what she needed, and the two of them decided to visit Ishgard, the city state that only recently ended its long isolationism and had opened its gates.

There, Delen would get accidentally tangled in a covert operation from the Redbills, whom she eventually decides to help. Her contribution would prove to be decisive for the resolution of their problems, and Leofard made her into a honorary Redbill and, as a more tangible gesture of appreciation, he gifted Delen one of their Manacutters.

The next time they met, it would be in a liberated Terncliff. Despite still bearing the scars from the prolonged occupation, the city by the cliffs was still home for Delen. She let Wilan accompany her around the city, dared briefly holding his hand. Tears shone in her eyes as she showed him the promenade from which she would look at the sea, down the cliffs.

She hadn't heard from Wilan in months, when he asked to talk to her. Their meeting was tense, awkward, somewhat cold. He however wanted to inform her in person: the Eorzean Alliance was pushing forward to liberate Werlyt.

But, as it would turn out, Baelsar was still alive, and he was collaborating.

She was home. However, politics had put Baelsar in charge of the newly liberated city, much to Wilan's protestations. They both agreed that for the time being it'd be better if Delen didn't move back to the city.

That was alright for her. What she wanted right now was to travel.

When she managed to see him, cornering him in his own room at the Studium, he was a wreck of a human being. Trembling, barely holding it together, he broke down in tears barely a moment after she closed the door of that room behind herself. She had seen the pressure he had been under before, but she had no idea just how bad it had gotten in the latest months, and he was facing it all alone, refusing to confide even in his closest friends, for fear that showing weakness to them might deprive them of a symbol of hope, and take them one step closer of giving in to despair.

And some months later, she would depart for another journey, although not under the best of circumstances. Wilan had sent word to be in Sharlayan, he wouldn't say much on the linkshell but he said it'd be safe here, she'd be able to quickly escape if things went wrong.

It would be some time before she had a chance to talk with him in person. The Warrior of Light had been running left and right across the world in the face of imminent disaster.

She spent that night with him, caring for him, listening to his worries, his fear, letting him vent his frustrations, his terrors. Encouraging him to indulge in a little bit of hope, in considering that not everything was lost like he thought, in imagining what he would like to do when everything would be over. When the world would be safe and there'd be no more need of Hydaelyn's champion.

Maybe they could be together, she dared to suggest.

He weeped. That would be nice, he dared to dream.

And then they departed. She saw him, leave the planed on a star vessel. She couldn't do much more than to pray for his safe return.

He did. The starship Ragnarok made its way back to Hydaelyn, welcomed by triumphant celebrations. He called her, on their linkpearl, made sure to let her know he was alright. The starship dropped the heroes of the planet off in Mor Dhona, and hopping on her manacutter she flew halfway across the continent to meet him there.

She found him, on the balcony of his room.

She all but jumped off her manacutter. He grabbed her.

And they kissed.

They didn't need to say anything else.

The world was saved, after all. The boundaries between them, removed. Maybe some day the need for a hero would arise again but for now, for now he was just another traveler.

And it was high time, Delen thought, that they had a vacation together.

From here on out, much of the story is still unwritten. But despite any shadow that might loom on the horizon, the new day's dawn shines bright.

[capsicrew]

Get ready because I like to ramble. Just workin out my thoughts on the potential new jobs coming in 7.0 before we have any official announcements.

All we know as of writing this is that the 2 new jobs will be a physical melee class, and a ranged magical class.

I just want to go over my thoughts on potential classes which already exist in other titles.

Cut because I tend to type a lot--

Casting Jobs:

Geomancer: A classic job, which already exists in the lore of FFXIV. Mentioned off-handedly with regards to, like, The Swallow's Compass dungeon--but if you haven't done the AST quests; Geomancer exists as a practice in the Far East (shown in both Hingashi and Yanxia, at the least). It sort of exists in opposition to Astromancy-- AST derives power from the stars and heavens while Geomancer derives similar powers from the earth. Further--Geomancy in 14 seems to highly derive from 3 elements--wind, water and earth, which also makes it extremely similar to Conjury in Eorzea. In short--Geomancer already exists so hard in the lore as a sort-of Far Eastern take on conjury, it doesn't really have an identity outside of its relation to these other 2 jobs. But! I wouldn't say its impossible. "Geomancy" has such far-reaching potentiality, the opportunity still exists. Black Mages focus on Fire, Ice and Lightning, so it could be interesting to see a BLM variant that instead focuses on Earth, Wind and Water and could potentially provide party buffs as well, maybe similar to Bard. So--while I don't find it likely, I still have some hope as a fan of Geomancer. Bell weapons would be great.

Time Mage: Extremely unlikely. Most "Time Mage" skills were wrapped into Astrologian, so I don't see Time Mage being a unique job, even as a name for a new type of job. While I'm at it, the "Oracle" job falls into a similar niche, wrapped in AST's "fortune reading" aspects. A magical DPS job could be built with these names, but I feel like there's other options that are far more likely.

Chemist: Still a lot of hope for Chemist. I think the potential still exists for a "potions" themed class like this, but I think it more likely to be a healing class. So, probably not coming this time around.

Necromancer: After how much hype and hope there was for Necromancer as an EW class, I'm surprised I haven't seen more of it this time around. Necromancer has a lot of potential. If you aren't aware--Necromancer is an actual class that was added to the Advanced version of FF5. It has two skills, one is "Oath" which summons a random "demon" (of 4 potential results) to perform a single attack. And "Dark Arts" which is a list of powerful spells a Necromancer can learn by defeating specific enemies (similar to Blue Mage, but the enemy just has to be defeated by the Necromancer, rather than waiting for them to use the spell and Learn it). The trade-off is that Necromancer inherently has the "undead" status, meaning they cannot be healed by items and healing spells (except White Wind). In practice, for 14, it'd just be a sort of darkness-themed casting job, similar to Dark Knight and Reaper. The only refraining point is that Black Mage is a casting job that already deals heavily with the Void. Buuuutttt... "darkness" need not specifically be void-related. What would be amusing-- the 2 new jobs would start at level 80. Just slap the requirement to beat 5.0 MSQ to unlock it and the job teacher could be an Ascian looking for something else to do now that Emet-Selch is gone, lol. We DO still have convocation members we haven't seen or heard from at all lol  (though considering we're supposed to be "done" with the whole ascians/zodiark/etc saga, maybe they wouldn't pull that out).

Pictomancer: Seen it mentioned a few times. If it becomes reality, its likely just to be a whole new job based on the name, rather than including Relm's actual drawing ability (which was, like, a sort of weak Beastmaster catch/release skill). But just casting spells out of art supplies would be neat, aesthetically. Maybe worth mentioning that both Krile (XIV) and Relm (VI) are both adopted granddaughters. And Krile is due for a job change, I think. Would be great if she did. Cause if Pictomancer was really added, I'd be sorely tempted to make it one of Beutiq's main classes and its something he and Krile could conspire with lol

Melee Jobs:

Beastmaster: Been sing a lot of hope for Beastmaster as job. It wouldn't quite have the freedom of capturing any monster you want (unless its turned into a Limited Job, but I think we've all been too disappointed by "limited job" before). However, I could easily see Beastmaster being a physical job similar to Summoner in 14--where you're able to call upon a rotation of specific beasts/monsters which can attack and/or augment the player's attacks in certain ways. The slow phasing-out of "Pets" over the last few expacs gives me pause, but maybe that could be an excuse for Beastmaster to stand out. Again, though, I could easily see Beastmaster also being added as a "limited job," where you can capture and train from a list of monsters a la Pokemon--level them up and select specific skills, like the Chocobo companion. But... I'd really rather see it as a full job. My favorite class of all being a limited job already makes me sour on the whole concept, lol Also, I could see Beastmaster reasonably using the Scouting gear. I only mention this because common theory right now is that the new melee class will use the Scouting gear, since Ninja is the only "scouting" class atm--after Reaper was added to share Dragoon's gear last time. As an alternate method to capturing monsters, I could see Beastmaster combined with the Morpher job of FFTA, or Gau's abilities in 6--where the player channels the abilities of beasts/monsters (or actually transforming, in the case of the Morpher) to augment their attacks. Again, likely in the same line as Summoner where the Beastmaster has a set of routine skills that change execution depending on the active "beast."

Puppetmaster: Mentioning this one right after Beastmaster, because I could see it being added in exactly the same capacity. Moreso, perhaps, in that FF11 Puppetmasters were melee-ranged fighters along with their machines. Now, ideally... I'd like to see Machinist take on a form where its automaton is incorporated more into its kit, rather than a whole new class added. I was slightly disappointed when the autoturret "pets" were removed in ShB. Adding some more "puppetmaster" vibes to that part of the job would be interesting. It would create a nice trio of classes with Beastmaster-- Summoner as a casting pet-job, Machinist as a ranged pet-job, and Beastmaster as a melee pet-job.

Mystic Knight: I would love this, hahaha. Mystic Knight is probably my favorite non-casting class. The main challenge is that a potential Mystic Knight's weaponry would already fall into the same class of weapons Paladins use. But they pulled it off with Dark Knight--and I'm sure there's plenty of bladed sticks I'm not familiar with, so I feel like the potential still exists. It would probably be a whole new class with the sort of "feel" of 5's Mystic Knight, but the potential skills and abilities would be pretty easy to craft, I'd think. Maybe with a little feel from Monk were you can infuse the blade with a certain element which augments your stats to either focus on attacking, defense or speed. Or just a cycle similar to Summoner with just a sort of flavor of execution among different elements. When I think of Mystic Knight/Spellblade as a job in 14, though, I tend to think of it as a Tank, due to the comparable 11 class, Rune Fencer. However, based on my observation, I think 11's Rune Fencer was eventually worked into 14's Dark Knight (with 11's Dark Knight looking like its more comparable to Reaper). So just wanted to... point that out I guess. Totally could be a DPS job. Give it the Scouting gear, who cares lol The Warrior of Light wielding a sword with no shield in the teaser trailer gives me some hope, but it could've just been an "anything" filler before the new classes are officially announced.

Cannoneer/Blitzballer: Similar classes in concept. But most likely ranged classes, so not this expac. Only mentioning because I see people still talking about Blitzball lmao

Corsair: I've seen a lot of people talk about 11's Corsair being added as the new class. Which--doesn't seem at all likely to me? I think only because they see the Carribean influence on this central America-themed region and make the automatic association to the pirates. But, buddy, I just don't see it happening here. I think the furthest corsair's influenced has reached 14 is the gun symbol at the marauder's guild where they might've planned on putting a corsair starting class that would maybe evolve into Machinist at level 30. In the MCH quests, too, the guy who teaches you the basics is also a Lominsan pirate-type guy. So I just don't see Corsair being added as a class in its capacity as a job in 11. Plus the new job was announced as melee range, and I don't see guns being that. Granted, however... the 14 team could just develop a whole new class and CALL it "Corsair."

Juggler: Including because I think it would be really funny. Juggler is a sort of thief/ninja class exclusive to Moogles in FFTA. A clown-themed job would be great. Do whatever with it. Stabbing and tools. Melee machinist.

Other: Of course, the opportunity exists for them to do what they did with Sage. Take a job that exists and just ... make something completely new out of it. With that potential, even jobs that are just variants of existing jobs have potential, like Knight, Viking, Evoker, Devout, Magus, Illusionist ... even Green Mage, which is, like... nothing ! lmao

[elizabethrobertajones]

1: Erenville calls us 'friend' immediately after we offer to help, but then also calls all the cute troublesome squirmy marmots 'friends' a minute later while fondly talking about putting them in a box before they can cause any more trouble. Hm.

2: I was instantly drawn to this quest on my first playthrough before I even knew anything else about Erenville because it's possibly the only one where you compete against an NPC to collect stuff, and unlike the ones with Hien and Alisaie there aren't options to play well and collect more than him. Erenville WILL capture 3 marmots while you run around the woods getting humiliated by just trying to get one in a sack. Like the only instance I'm sure of you applying the quest objective and the whole cast bar for 'get in the bag' casting and then the marmot just runs away instead of disappearing into your inventory. Hilarious subversion of our usual skills using game mechanics to indicate us falling on our face.

Considering the past 2 expansions have had a "collect more than this NPC for gloating rights" quests and you can use your amazing quest-completing abilities to do so, and 90% of quests seem to be "find this thing no one else can find" and the whole reveal you're getting over of "you are literally descended from the God Of Having A Knack For Finding Things No One Else Can" there's an actual delight in getting only a few quests into Endwalker and meeting a guy who will trounce you in a marmot fetch quest (and they probably picked an ARR starter zone critter specifically for that extra embarrassment) and then tell you he's a specialist in acquiring live specimens, and it to feel quite clear you're probably outmatched.

He literally has the pacifist gatherer version of your job of hunting beasties, and he's better at it than you.

Immediate first impression of him: he's meant to stand out as an unusual foil to you and you're off-balance with your standing to him.

He's extremely unusual in the pattern all through the story of people you meet who are usually a little standoffish or tentatively friendly until you wow them by doing a fetch quest or three, and then they respect you. He's not going to be so easily won over and while he is carefully friendly after this he's still going to set a nice boundary where you've helped him so he gives you some basic information, he will then immediately leave to deal with what to him are much bigger and more important work. Since you're not trying to lead with doing all this to save the world, you can't use your reputation or greater purpose to demand any more from him than what you've earned. And he's shown that on that footing he's much more competent than you and therefore as a player you've got to impress him further (hence an upcoming second quest to prove yourself worthy of a bigger helpful hint).

I really like how unusual he is immediately, in a way that makes him stand out dramatically as a character in this genre of Friendly MMO NPC, because he's working for the antagonists but of course they're only antagonists in the strict sense they're antagonising you specifically and while it's super weird and they're being dicks about it, it isn't giving vibes of an EVIL organisation, and Erenville represents our view on the Forum from sort of within Sharlayan and that system but not in on the secret and just having to deal with what it's like.

He's also remote, reserved and vibing as smarter than you, but on just a personal level, and while you soften him up much faster by being helpful and sympathising with the workload, at least at first he's another part of the puzzle of why everything in Sharlayan is so WEIRD when you arrive from Eorzea and all the panic about the end times and all the stuff that happened in the lead up. And this guy's frazzled and overworked... on collecting creatures. And he can give you an immediate indication that everyone's a bit weirded out, on edge and definitely overworked because of all this, the regular folk of Sharlayan aren't in on it and are clearly just being used as cogs in a much bigger, weirder, whatever is going on. Including himself and he doesn't have time to deal with that, he has marmots to box up.

(Though he does also give the clue that they're collecting edible and farmable critters which immediately made me realise it was an ark inspired by the one in The Peaks but on a civilizational scale based on the very obvious context of This Particular Society And All Its Nonsense Plus End Times, so then I had to play the next 5 levels of the MSQ playing Frog a lot less clued in than my guess since if she'd made that deduction to Fourchenault's face I think he'd have either melted or else been able to tell them at least a little more or start to bridge things with the twins way too soon for those character beats :P)

Oh! The headaches. Definitely the headaches :)

...

And I can teach him so much more.

[sparrowwritings]

Writing Challenge Day Twenty-three: Protocol

Day Twenty-two -- Masterpost -- Day Twenty-four

There was an order of operations to how commerce worked. It was how the merchants of the desert city of Ul’dah were able to amass all of their power, after all. Coin needed to be exchanged from one step to another, and the people who facilitated (if not owned) the steps required could reap massive rewards for their efforts. This is why someone from the outside attempting to get in on the same benefits would have a long road ahead of them. Already established merchants had a reputation they could fall back on should a venture go south. They also had the means to trip up unaware newbies through complex paperwork and legal precedent.

Of course massive hurdles like those couldn’t stop everyone from trying to make it big...

“Getchur tinkerin’ needs filled here!” A high pitched voice briefly rose above the usual din of the Ul’dah market. “You know where to go when your trinkets stop running! Right over here at Gatlin’s Goods!” A lalafell woman stood on top of a large crate as she shilled out the stall, making her round head visible above most, but not the tallest, of the crowd. Her bright pink hair was unbound, leaving corkscrew curls that fell to the middle of her back. Sharp violet eyes scanned the area and locked onto a young miqo’te man whose reddish-brown cat-like ears were twitching in time with her little speech. 

From below and slightly to her right, a lower pitched voice spoke. “Y’know you don’t really need ta be standing like that th’ whole time, right?” She briefly glanced down to see her brother giving his poutiest frown and tapping his chubby fingers on the makeshift counter in front of him. The colors of his eyes and hair were nearly identical to his sister’s, though he sported a short, fluffy hairstyle and his eyes were enlarged artificially by a pair of round spectacles. “We’ve got the spot locked for th’ week.” 

She huffed and put her hands on her hips. “We didn’t have enough left over for advertisement! So! I gotta do all th’ hard work of upsellin’ you!” With a mischievous grin, she bent down and stage whispered, “Unless ya want me ta go around town in those new inventions ya won’t sell…?” 

“No.” He folded his arms. To the average person outside of the lalafell race, his body language and glare would reflect that of a petulant child. A disadvantage to being of a race that was so small and young looking. “I ain’t sellin’ them cuz they ain’t ready. Ya still can’t stop without crashin’ into somethin’.” 

Her pointed ears drooped for just a moment before popping back up with a rush of enthusiasm. “But! Think about it! That’d be way easier to spread word about than just your shop!” She dramatically hopped to a sitting position on the top of the crate. 

Kicking her feet freely, she started doing her impression of a rich person. It was really just a deeper, more haughty sounding version of her voice. “‘Oh! This invention seems very interesting! Why I’ve never heard of such a thing! Who could possibly have created such a wonderful thing!’” In an exaggerated version of her own voice, she responded, “Oh, only my wonderful an’ amazin’ an’ talented brother of course! I’ll show you to his stall! Sadly we’re only able to rent the spot for a week--after which we’ll be wanderin’ the whole of Eorzea, seekin’ our fortune outside of Ul’dah! Oh, woe!”

He rolled his eyes nearly hard enough to knock off his spectacles. “Right, and then we’ll get a sponsor an’ not hafta worry about anythin’ ever again, right?” 

As suddenly as her dramatics had started, she had just as quickly gone back to her usual self. “It’s less fun if ya figure out th’ endin’ before I get there.”

“Ain’t anything to figure out, it’s th’ same damned endin’ there ever is ta yer daydreamin’.” 

“I dunno, I kind of liked the sound of it myself.”

The two lalafell jumped at the new voice. Clearing his throat and adjusting his spectacles to hide his rising flush, he turned to face the potential customer. “What can I do ya for, miss?”

The reddish brown miqo’te that the lalafell woman had thought was male chuckled. Her yellow eyes seemed to glow with her amusement as she lazily leaned against the crate. “Couldn’t help but overhear some interesting stuff. You repair machines right?” 

Just before he was about to correct her, his sister butted in with, “Repair and make. He’s an inventor.”

“Amature inventor.” He briefly glared before going back to his customer service smile. “I ain’t Cid Garlond or anythin’, but I like puttin’ machines t’gether.” 

The miqo’te woman’s smile widened, her sharp teeth a reminder of the predatory nature of felines. “Then you’ll be perfect. What’re your names?” 

“I’m Rennis Gatlin.” He adjusted his spectacles again.

“And I’m Bailey Gatlin!” The curly-haired lalafell waved cheerfully.

If she was at all confused about how odd the two’s names were, the miqo’te woman declined to comment. “Well Rennis and Bailey, I can guarantee you one thing.”

The siblings looked to each other, then back at her. “And that is…?” Rennis prompted.

She pointed a sharp finger towards them both. “The DeFleur Trading Co. is the right fit for you!”

They blinked in unison. “The what...?” Ren’s glasses were in danger of slipping off of his button nose.

“Wait, I’ve heard of them,” Bailey pointed back at the woman. “They’re small time, but they’ve been goin’ through some rapid growth lately.” She hopped off of the crate and landed with only a minor amount of wobbling. “If we get in with’m now, we could really grow! You could have money enough ta really make somethin’ cool!”

“Yep, that’s definitely something you could do.” The miqo’te woman gestured vaguely as she moved forward with the conversation. “I know you’ve got your stall, but the head honcho’s here in town til the end of the day. We’re buddies, so I can get you one-on-one time real fast if you just come with me right now.”

Rennis bit his lip and looked around at what was out on display in the stall. With a sigh and a dramatic eye roll of her own, Bailey went behind the counter and shoved her brother out. “Go with her. If the deal’s bad, then just say no. Can’t hurt to try, Ren!”

He clicked his tongue but otherwise let it happen. Once he was in front of the stranger, he made sure to meet her yellow eyes despite being about half her height. “C’n I get a name b’fore I go anywhere with ya?” 

“Catrene Luvere.” She gave a mock bow before she turned on her heels and called out, “C’mon, daylight’s burning.”

With a final glance at his sister, Rennis Gatlin marched his way after Catrene as quickly as his short legs could go.

[mirageofthecrystal]

Junelezen 2022 - Day 6 I Dreams of Ice

"I still recall the day I met the infamous Lady Iceheart as if it were only yesterday. The crusty basement of an old, forgotten manor house, standing before a blasphemous shrine, she stood in all her glory.

She spoke to me of truth, of justice, and of peace. She revealed to me the real history of our people, or at the least the version of it show to her by the power of the blessing of Hydaelyn that she bore, and opened my eyes to the grievous misdoings of our ancestors. She cared not for my prior service in slaughtering her people or the dragons to whom she wished to resolve matters of war. She saw us all as misguided, being lied to our entire lives to breed hatred and animosity to a foe we ourselves forged by our deeds.

And when the truth was at last told, she made no orders, no threats. She merely asked for my service unto her mission of piece. If I were to refuse, I was free to return to the life I had carved out for myself, though she also likely knew what that left held for me. I saw in her an enigma, a woman who was not born into leadership, but one who had walked upon a path that she was forced to build stone by stone until she reached the destination she sought.

I learned of the darkness within, that which lurked in the heart of all who bled for Ishgard, and which was awakened by the heretics in their fight against the Holy See. The blood of dragons pumped through our veins, manifesting itself over the ages since King Thordan and his knights profaned our people with sin. It was that darkness that called to me, that sought to bring destruction in its wake, to spill the blood of any and all who stood in my way. Ancient blood roused by conflict, answering a call not consciously given.

When my uncle first told me his wish, to bring me before the leader of the heretics, I scoffed. I thought him mad, and then I thought him a foul traitor. The accusations against my family had, in my mind, some credence to them if the most noble of us had fallen under the sway of the dragons.

But Artemoux, as stoic as ever, swore that it was not until after the church's lies sought to break our House did he finally begin seeing between the lines. And so earnestly was his plea that I agreed to follow his guidance, away from this place where my life was only measured by how much longer I could evade a dagger in the back. And so we made the lengthy journey, by carriage and then by foot, to the highlands beyond the Holy See, among the snowdrifts and memories of a time long forgotten.

For those who read this memoir, you likely know the truth I have alluded to which Lady Iceheart spread amongst any who would listen, poising them against their own countrymen in a war of ideals. It is also likely that you know of her ultimate fate, and how even after her beliefs were shaken to their core, she fought on for a peace she would never see. To this day, I think back upon her words, her deeds, and all that which she fought for, and I know that despite all the challenges it brought, all the strife that Ishgard endured in the course of change, that it was all worth it in the end.

There is no other person that I could imagine that could so embody Saint Shiva, she who many still cast the aspersions of our forebears upon as queen of the heretics and one who lay with a mortal foe. No one else could possibly have carried the hope of both Ishgard and dragon within her heart so fervently and so graciously until the bitter end as she.

Thus did I join her Harriers, in service to the heretics which Ishgard so fiercely sought to stamp out. I knew not at the time that I also stood in opposition to the Warrior of Light, who hunted us alongside our blindly faithful brethren in bold attempts to capture or kill our dear Lady and put an end to her righteous mission. Far beyond thankful I am that righteousness truly did prevail, and that the mighty defender of Eorzea did not strike her down that day when she forged of herself a vessel for the Primal known as Shiva."

- Excerpt from the personal journal and accounts of Ser Faiolan Penderghast, Knight of the Heaven's Ward

[aethericmusings]

Like, let's just talk lore for a second (because this hit that chord with me this morning I guess).

We've got the Dalamiq tribe that worshipped Dalamud, and note the name - even though Twelve worship is a primarily-Eorzean thing, the tribe is named after the lesser moon (perhaps called Dalagab in the Far East, as it's called in, according to the wiki, the Japanese version of the game?). And sure, we've got the Lambs of Dalamud, on the Eorzean side, but they're a fairly 'new' thing (having formed only as Dalamud began to fall), but here's a tribe who's worshipped the lesser moon specifically for long enough that it's just a part of their tribal identity.

And I have to wonder how this ties to them having settled down. Did they leave the nomadic lifestyle because of the moon? "As the lesser moon stays by Nhaama's side, so too do we stay, ready to serve our Mother" or something? Or was it just convenient to stay there, and the lesser moon-worship was secondary?

What did they think of the lesser moon, exactly? Did they see it as a great hound as well? Or did they think that that was Nhaama, and worshipped the lesser moon instead of the greater? If they heard of the Bozja Incident, did they see that as divine retribution for daring to try to reach the realm of the gods?

And now Dalamud is gone. And has been, for [5-15 years, pick your favorite timeline length]. How are they coping? It fell on Eorzea, so do they have some legend about Nhaama sending her loyal servant to punish Eorzea? Or maybe to defend them against Garlemald? When they hear that it was a cage for a dragon, do they believe that? Do they adapt their stories so that it was Nhaama's servant-wyrm, or are they going through a religious struggle like the Ishgardians, finding out that their belief was built on a lie and trying to find faith in a post-Calamitous world?

And then the other tribes. Do the other Xaela make fun of them for this? Are they ridiculed for worshipping something made by the Allagans? Do others look down on them for putting so much faith in something the Garleans, of all people, literally ripped out of the sky? Or did all of the tribes have some acknowledgment of the lesser moon's place at Nhaama's side, like how Eorzeans saw it as the hound, and so the rest of the tribes are confused as to what Nhaama was doing, and so don't generally bring it up now?

There's a lot of great lore out there, and I'm glad we've got at least a paragraph or two about some of the tribes and some sidequests, but there's so much that's unexplored.

The Dalamiq tribe of the Xaela is one of the few tribes that abandoned the nomadic lifestyle. Having built a small village on an islet, they once worshipped the now-fallen lesser moon.

[thebmatt]

FFXIV Write 2022 Prompt #9 – Yawn

Gwenefyr Franks really didn’t want to fall asleep yet, but seven hells was it hard.

She’d had an early morning as it was. First was the morning guest lecture at the Sharlayan Institude of Somanoutics (which, honestly, was like 2 rooms in the Studium so why it needed to be a called an Institute was baffling to her), then yet another session of demonstration and data collecting on the advancements she had apparently made in the field while helping the Scions save the world. She hadn’t quite stopped enjoying seeing Forchenault’s incredulous reactions to those yet (and really, she should stop that, the man was trying to be better about his prejudices. It was a work in progress for both of them)

A quick lunch and then she’d had some clinic hours scheduled, but those got absolutely derailed by the children. Sharlayan’s many youths had figured out who she was and when she would be walking between buildings, and they had been absolutely hounding her with questions about Eorzea and Ilsabard. Really, she should have stopped letting them get away with this days ago, but they were earnest and cute, her absolute two weaknesses, and so more than once she’d had to ask one of her fellow sages or their advanced students to cover for her.

Thankfully nearly all of them were more than happy to repay her for her part in saving the world (star, she mentally corrected herself).

The children didn’t even seem to care that her own knowledge was still lacking in detail, and so for many of their questions, she’d had to respond with a fairly simple answer and encourage them to ask her husband for more information. He’d been to all of the places they asked about many more times than she had after all! The kids could only look at each other and simply respond with “Yeah, but you’re nice. He gets grumpy after like….three questions!”

She giggled at the memory. Her husband was absolutely the best version of himself that she’d ever seen, but some things would never change.

She’d remained patient for as long as she could, but eventually she had to shoo them all away and go get some actual work done in the clinic. Finally, after her last patient left, she was able to go back to the home she and her husband had settled into, a gift from the Forum in gratitude for their deeds and for their willingness to stay and record the knowledge they had gained for posterity (although to be fair, they were getting Archonates out of that latter part too)

Aleister had contacted her via their shared linkpearl and let her know that he was delayed in getting home (something had apparently gone wrong with an experiment at Maelvaan’s Gate that they were trying to salvage) and that she probably shouldn’t wait on him to eat. She still hadn’t quite gotten over yet just how insanely good his culinary skills had gotten. She’d prepared all of their family meals in their past life, so adjusting to him taking the lion’s share of that work since their reunion had been…a bit of an adjustment.

She was far too tired to cook, so she made a quick stop at the Last Stand for some takeout (they had a REALLY good beef stew that she suspected her husband had helped them develop just for her, if those knowing smiles were any indication) and was now reading a novel on their couch, waiting for Aleister to get home. The hearty meal and the business of her day were starting to take a toll, and she had lost count of the number of times she’d realized she had gotten to the end of her current page but not retained a single word. Her eyes kept drooping shut after she’d force them back open, hoping to at least talk with her husband for at least a few minutes before surrendering to sleep.

She had just finished a substantial yawn, trying to will her body to stay awake just for a moment longer, when her large ears picked up the sounds of approaching footsteps. Seconds later the door opened and her grumbling husband entered their home.

“Hi honey. Finally finish the experiment?”

He sighed. “No. it only got worse after we talked” He moved to set his grimoire on it’s storage shelf and set the rest of his pack down, dramatically flopping down on the couch next to her.

She immediately snuggled up next to him, enjoying the scent. He always smelled like book paper after spending a few hours at the gate. And a bit of sea air, that was nice too. “What happened? What were you working on?”

“We’ve been trying to formulate replicable arrays for the three alemental aspects not currently in use for aspecting carbuncles, you know, lightning, ice, and water, but we haven’t quite solved for the problem of-“

Hmmmm, carbuncles. Hey where was Snowball anyway? Probably went off to eat if her husband hadn’t demanifested him. Oh well, he was nice to cuddle too. Oh wait, she should pay attention.

“-and it turned out, the crystals they had were slightly corrupted, so OF COURSE they exploded”

Oooh, she needed to tell him about Fourchenault’s reaction to her test data, he always loved it when she flummoxed the head of the Forum. Hadn’t really forgiven him for that public disowning of Alphy and Ali. She should go see them soon. Right, he was still talking!

“-last of the Carbuncle-quality gemstones! The crystal shards were at least easy to sweep up, but now there we are covered in aetheric goop!”

She giggled. Slime-covered Aleister. Her eyes were open right? Nope. She should open them. Nope, too hard.

“Honestly, at this rate, I don’t know if I’ll ever see a Shiva, Ramuh, or Leviathan-Egi,”

Aleister looked down to see Gwen’s reaction, but she was absolutely out. He smiled, tucking some of her grayish white hairs behind her ear and planting a soft kiss on her forehead. “Long day for you too, I guess? All right, guess the story can keep.”

He twisted himself into a position where he could stand while keeping her leaning against him, and hoisted her into a bridal carry before heading to their bedroom.

She barely stirred.

[spotofmummery]

A possibly slightly silly question, which may have been answered somewhere I haven't properly read yet (sorry if so).

Given that Amon (in terms of the one who is the focus of Spot of Mummery, not Mr Don't-Mind-Me-I'm-An-Ascian over there) is Chaotic Neutral in alignment; is he moving more towards Good with the influence of Scylla (or trying to give the impression that he is at least)? Or has he moved to Chaotic Neutral from wherever he was before, thanks to her influence, and that's about as much as anyone can reasonably expect thank you very much?

I suppose, in a less roundabout way, the question is whether Amon is becoming a "better" person and if so what are the reasons and how is "better" defined by him and by Scylla?

I hope that makes sense?

This is probably going to get long, apologies! I'm not the best at equating character psychology to alignments, but I'll try.

In my headcanon, Amon started out his career as Chaotic Good. His intentions were always good, his motivations to improve the quality of life of the Allagan people. Just the way he went about finding solutions swung into the chaotic side.

I feel that this version of Amon can still very much could return to Chaotic Good. He might even be bordering that now days. There's a lot to his development that I haven't been able to write yet in his stories - I really need to catch up on my writing!

There is no doubt in my mind that Amon's actions in Allag eventually swung him into Evil. But I don't feel like he was chaotic. Rather, he was more Lawful Evil in that he justified his cruelty by claiming he was working for the betterment of his people. His experiments were carried out most often on criminals and traitors (based on the lore book), and even on himself. It was stated very clearly that Amon was not just paranoid but insane by the end of it all.

Despite that, was extremely loyal to Allag and Xande based on lore we've seen - so much that he'd give his life to protect Xande in the tower. I don't feel like Amon as himself would have agreed with nihilism until he received the memories and seat of Fandaniel, and maybe even not until after he saw Allag fall.

The clone of Amon we fight in Syrcus Tower also doesn't seem to share these beliefs based on his actions and dialogue. Someone wanting the end of the world would not be creating "diversions" in hopes to protect his Emperor, and then warning Xande of danger approaching as his final words.

Anyhow, on to his development as I write him.

Amon's death, soul transfer into yet another clone, and waking in Eorzea is what led him to become Chaotic Neutral. I wrote him as having gained a clarity of mind from insanity and having to deal with the fall-out of his past actions looking at them with different eyes for the first time.

My Amon had to learn to survive in Eorzea. He knew no one. Had nothing to his name. Had to teach himself skills - such as archery - to take on odd jobs from the Grand Company just to make meals and ends meet.

Overall, he learned how the common person lived, and his own survival became paramount in his mind. He still had that chaotic streak to him in that he'd do what he needed to do, including use people, lie, sometimes steal, to ensure that he lived to see the next day.

However, he was lucky enough to fall in with individuals who now make up his Free Company, and they might have been the first people who taught him what kindness (without seeking reward) was.

Fast forward to Amon and Scylla. Scylla actually spent a lot more of her time embedded into Eorzea - she'd lost her memories and believed herself to be an Eorzean. So a lot of those sensibilities color her character now - there are times she even rejected being Allagan because of how tasteless she saw it all.

When Amon sees how selfless Scylla is in helping him, caring for him, healing him, saving his life - when he is the last person who deserves it - it's the spark that lights that flame of attraction that leads to him falling for her.

As their relationship has developed (again, my RP partner and I have written years worth of personal RP that isn't reflected in my stories yet), she has encouraged Amon to want to be a better person.

At first, it was out of shame and guilt of what he'd done to her in the past. But eventually, it's been a part of him trying to find himself, define who he wants to be, and choose different paths in his life.

This is especially true once he learns about Fandaniel, Hermes, the Endsinger and all that jazz.

Amon is the last fragment of that soul that is still alive and able to make an impact on Etheirys. And though he was not the one who committed the crimes of Hermes or Fandaniel, he is the only one who can take responsibility for them now, in his eyes.

This is a major motivator for him. I'm not sure where it's going to lead him, but the whole Fandaniel thing has certainly sent his character development into interesting places. Hopefully one day, I can get them all typed out for folks interested in reading them.

tl;dr: Amon has always had an ever-evolving alignment. Yes, he could maybe aspire to be a good character one day. Scylla has been a big influence on him, but I also feel his original nature was good, too. Very much like the soul he was connected with.