#FFXivWrite2020

[autumnslance]

Soon...

In FFXIVWrite2020, I wrote a prompt near the end about a secret Alberic kept, concerning my WoL, Aeryn's, past. In FFXIVWrite2021, I ended up writing quite a few more prompts about that, creating a story about Corran Striker's actions, what Alberic did and why, and the dragon at the center of it all, an ancient red named Avengret.

I've finally gotten a draft more or less hammered out; re-ordering, revising, adding, removing, and shuffling the original prompts into an actual (I hope) story. I'll be posting to Ao3 every few days, with notifications here on Tumblr (and probably other places).

In the meantime, the initial prompts in their original versions and order for perusal (and for me to see how very much I've done with this...). Set in that nebulous time between the very end of Shadowbringers and the start of Endwalker, there might be some random out of context spoilers for sprouts not through those expansions yet.

1. Paternal - X’rhun discovers a past truth Alberic keeps hidden. 2. Aberrant - Backstory; Corran Striker starts his doomed path. 3. Scale - Backstory; more of Corran’s heretical history. 4. Baleful - Keeping the Warrior of Light out of trouble is tough. 5. Passion - Corran & Emelia’s spicy followup to “Aberrant” 6. Speculate - Backstory, Ser Alberic Bale seeing through a promise. 7. Friable - Backstory. Vignettes of Emelia’s POV over time. 8. Heady - A reason Alberic feared Aeryn meeting Avengret. 9. Preaching to the Choir - Brotherly understanding after “Heady.” 10. Strained - Immediate follow up to "Preaching", more Estinien. 11. Thunderous - Aeryn finally Echoes That Moment from Alberic. 12. Devil’s Advocate - Plans to deal with Avengret are debated. 13. Soul - Aeryn has concerns about Alberic versus Avengret. 14. Bow - The team attempts their plan against Avengret.

[lal-ffxiv]

From Previous Years

FFXIVWRITE 2019 FFXIVWRITE2020 FFXIVWRITE2021

I haven't fixed the links it needs to updated to lal-ffxiv.tumblr.com/ for individual posts

FFXIVWRITE2024 (MASTER POST)

STEER // Luken Meharianni

HORIZON :: Asdis Heolstorm

TEMPEST :: Asdis Heolstorm

RETICENT :: Asdis Heolstorm

STAMP // Luken Meharianni

HALCYON // Luken Meharianni

MORSEL 🌳🌳 The Gridania AU

-

LEND AN EAR {{The Queer Light Party}}

STABLE {{The Queer Light Party}}

SURROGATE 🐆 (The Parents - M'arianni Alha & Luken Meharianni)

QUARRY 🐈‍⬛🐈🐈‍⬛ The Parents

BUTTE ⚔️ 🏹 Demilune of Ash

TELLING 🐈‍⬛🐈🐈‍⬛ The Parents

-

THIRD RATE // Luken Meharianni

SALLY ⚔️ 🏹 Demilune of Ash

HACKNEYED 🌗The HalfMoon AU🌓

TAKEN🌲🌕   The Astral Era AU

DUEL | Luka E'res

SHADE 🌗The HalfMoon AU🌓

-

-

BAR 🌳🌳 The Gridania AU

PERPETUITY 🌖 Crescent AU🌔

ZIP 🌲🌕 The Astral Era AU

MEMORY | Luka E'res

DELETERIOUS 🌖 Crescent AU🌔

ON CLOUD NINE :: Asdis Heolstorm

TWO HEADS ARE BETTER THAN ONE |💫Fate & Future💫

[snowbird-down]

Prompt 3: Temper

Several warnings:

1) Major Endwalker spoilers

2) CW for body horror

3) For the sake of drama I’ve taken some creative liberties with a couple of NPCs. We can chalk it all up ICly to hallucinations if that’s more comfortable to you. Either way Laelia doesn’t remember most of this post-un-tempering so she’s not coming away from this with any meta knowledge.

E-enjoy?

All three of them couldn’t help but forget their lunch for the moment as the tentacle-heads passed. Well, no – it was disrespectful to call them that. Laelia mentally chided herself for slipping back into her old habits, offering a dutiful salute instead. The tenta—the Chosen didn’t give any indication of having noticed much of anything as they shambled on their way. They were above such things.

“Man. Why don’t they have to eat?” Gallus asked, pouting down at his Bowl of Brown. They weren’t sure what was in it, but such paltry things as flavor and texture didn’t really matter right now. “Imagine how much more work we could get done if we didn’t have to stop all the damn time.”

“Or sleep?” Marco smirked, twirling his spoon between his fingers. “The emperor sustains his Chosen on aether alone. If we work hard enough that could be us too, y’know.”

“We’ve been busting our balls.” Laelia frowned, stabbing at a dubious chunk of gristle with her spoon. “What did they do to get noticed by His Radiance?”

“Patience, dear sister.” Marco grinned. “He brought us back together, right? We’ll get what we deserve in time.”

Laelia had to smile to that. It was true. Marco had been missing since...since...she couldn’t quite remember. But she did recall her family had been devastated. It was only by Emperor Varis’ guidance that she was able to find her little brother again. Strangely enough she couldn’t remember where the rest of her family was now, but she was certain they’d understand. It’d be natural to assume that a loyal soldier like Laelia would have gone to help with the war effort. After all, they were at war with everyone.

She remembered Grandfather too, much as she was loathe to. The way he always looked at me so dismissively, with that infuriating frown. The disappointment that shone in his yellow eyes.

“You think it’s what?” he asked flatly.

“Reductive,” I replied. “I’ve seen every trope in this play a hundred times by now.”

Grandfather just rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t know drama if it backhanded you with an iron gauntlet and called your mother fat. Which she was, by the by.”

“You’d insult her?” I growled.

“Her, and that saddlebag of a face that you were so kind to inherit. Alas that only one of my sons had any taste.” And then he went back to watching.

I spent the rest of the night glaring at him rather than watching his trite little show. But sometimes, when he was distracted with the play, the other half of him would temporarily regain some measure of control over his own body. Solus would glance back at me with wide unfocused eyes, a confused and terrified old man who had no idea where he was, and I’d feel bile surge up in my throat.

Laelia grimaced as she swallowed the bile. No wait, that was stew. Those weren’t her memories. Hells, she’d never been to a stage play in her life, other than that one time Verina’s class did Romulus and Julia in high school. Verina had been cast as Julia. That’d been awkward to watch.

The whistle blew. They all hurriedly gulped down the rest of their slop, hugged each other, and went back to work. Marco and Gallus returned to work on the warmachina, and Laelia went back to guarding the trains. It was boring work if she was being honest, but she knew it was of tremendous import. More and more resources were being funneled into the palace, and with news of invaders beginning to creep over the borders it was now more important than ever that she help keep the supply lines safe. She had vague memories of those peoples, too – the poncy long-ears, the insufferable midgets, the hyur and the Angry Hyur. She remembered their cruel magics and their crude weapons.

She remembered the moment the sword punched into her belly. Popped through armor and flesh as though I were paper-thin. A shock of hot electric pain. That cold gleam in his eyes. I’d always known this day was coming but I still felt betrayed. I seethed immeasurably at the boy, but the worst part was that, even as my legs gave beneath me, I still felt love for him. Abominable monster that he was, he was still my son.

“What the fuck,” Laelia breathed, clutching her head. She had to focus, dammit. She’d never get promoted like this.

And so she worked, and she worked. She watched the trains and moved cargo and disciplined the more unruly captives being shipped off to His Radiance as tribute. And as the sun sank lower in the sky and the light began to fade through the windows outside, Laelia felt her pulse climb and her stomach churn. She hated night time. Night time meant she had to sleep. And every night it was always the same.

She tried to stave it off, tried to scrounge up coffee rations – but they were all since long gone, or else stolen by the traitors outside. So instead she tried to redouble her efforts, to keep working so that she didn’t have time to get tired, but that only seemed to accelerate it. At last her brother and Gallus returned and dragged her back to the barracks, remaining in good spirits the whole while.

“I know, I know.” Marco laughed. “We wanted to keep working too, but we’re of no use to His Radiance if we fall asleep on the job. Just a few quick hours and we can get back to it.”

That wasn’t the problem, though.

Laelia tried to stay awake in her cot, tried to lie in uncomfortable positions, tried to shed her blanket so she’d stay too cold. She tried everything. But she was dog-tired, and eventually sleep came for her anyway. And with it came that face. That manic, grinning, awful face. The hatchet in his hand. The way he sang such a carefree tune as he vigorously hacked into my right arm. It wasn’t anything so skilled as a medical cut; no, he butchered me like a slaughtered cow. When he’d gotten far enough through the bone, he tore the rest of the limb off and tossed it aside, where it landed with a wet slap on the granite floor.

He came for the other. Then my legs. Each one took an eternity to sever, forcing me to listen to the wet crunch of my own musculature. Afterwards he pulled out a knife and carved open my torso, dove in as if to seek buried treasure, and sawed free my heart and my liver. Those, too, he scooped out and added to the pile. And then – and only then, because he wished to keep me there to watch – when he was certain that I’d suffered his every cut and insult – he hacked off my head.

“Not to worry, Your Radiance,” he cooed into my ear. “You won’t have need of this. We’re about to grow you a couple of new ones.”

[shieldkeeper]

FFXIVWrite2022: Prompt 10

Writing Prompt: CHANNEL Words: 614

“It spreads further…”

Vibrant blue ink spread across flesh in spiraling motions like that of an untamable wave of the seas. Once was once but a few beads of dotted aqua blue had grown out of control over the years. Fluctuating in size and pattern depending on emotion and the amount of magicks he expended within bursts.

‘Strange’ is how he originally thought of it when he first realized they were not natural by any degree. The village folk of Veidanfisk all wore similar tattoos of bright blue colors, sketched onto their very skin by their own merit. Whereas his… naturally grew over time. Marked from the moment of birth and taught that his markings were of special descent.

The only way of keeping his tattoos in check… was to keep a lid on his emotions. Don’t act out too much. Keep himself calm and collected. No matter the case, always remain in control of oneself.

His journey of late however… has been a ride from one thing to the next. Of ups and downs. Battle after battle. Place after place. And when at last they reached this amalgamation of a city, unlike anything one could ever imagine…!

 …

A chance to himself. A lone pond of water that called to him, away from any nearby persons who might disturb him. Not even his friends knew of his location save for him going on a walk. Thoughts bore heavy on his mind as he sat beside the edge of the water, looking deep into its murky depths… yet a circle of clear mirrored his looks and appearances. A shade of himself with only difference being in hue of eyes.

“Tell me…” The Seer whispered beneath his breath as he traced a finger on water’s edge. As though he were carving a rune out of its form—and it remaining in placed as he continued as though engraved. “Have I taken upon my rightful path? Have I not done my part to call my role complete?”

His question hung in the air to deafening silence. Never had his image answered back before after all. It only sat there mimicking his every action and movement, lips moving in tandem with his but not of its own accord. Only staring back at him as it too appeared to wish for an answer to the riddles of his life.

A sigh on his breath as he finished the symbol he’d drawn out. A magickal sigil that he as chieftain’s son only new save for the chief himself. It felt more as though a talisman that warded away unkept thoughts. A symbol that might answer his prayers and offer him some calm from the choppy waves of his mind.

Yet after a moment’s wait and lamenting… Garen began to feel a tugging sensation from within. As though something were slowly beginning to coil around him as if in comforting embrace… or was it something else?

He looked upon his mirrored face once more and thought it to be smiling. Its lips moving though he could not hear it speak in truth. The words appearing in his thoughts as though he were speaking it himself.

“The elements stir… Fables no more…”

Garen backed away from the edge and broke his train of focus, heaving deep shaky breaths as he felt the coils unwound. Any longer did he stare and he wagered he’d be drawn into hearing more. Falling into madness as he thought himself to be. It was but simple water’s reflection as it always was. Yet pulling back his sleeves showed his blue ink to be spiraling maddeningly from briefest encounter.

What was this… sense of foreboding?

[nalukahvi]

And, because for a couple years there I was locked out of this account, here is the last 4 years of participation prizes I’ve done! 

[dumb-hat]

Prompt #12: “Miss the Boat” - FFXIV Write 2022

"It's a simple job, really."

The words haunted Evander, even though they hadn't been wrong. The job was simple, after all: He just needed to grab the lockbox from underneath the market stall and replace it with the dummy lockbox, then make his way to the bridge that crossed the narrow canal and drop the lockbox into the gondola as it passed underneath. He didn't need to concern himself with the contents of the box, there wouldn't be any security to worry about, and the stall would be left miraculously unlocked and unattended, thanks to someone his employer had on the inside.

All of that had been true.

What was also true was that the gondola would not only be early, but that it would also be tiny.

Evander groaned as he watched the model gondola grow ever tinier as it passed. The next bridge would be in a much busier area, meaning a much higher likelihood of a strange man dropping a box from a high bridge onto a tiny boat would be noticed by somebody.

He palmed the lockbox and considered its heft. He'd probably be able to hit a relatively small moving target. It probably wouldn't hurt the model gondola. He'd probably be done with this job in a matter of minutes. He'd probably have a interesting story to tell over drinks later.

So... Yeah, okay. Why not? He rolled the lockbox between his hands, took a deep breath, reeled back and pitched it over the bridge, toward its target.

... And over shot by a yalm. The box bobbled in the water, taunting him. "Simple job," Evander muttered under his breath as he dove from the bridge into the canal below.

← Previous Prompt |Master Post| Next Prompt →

[chrysalispen]

Prompt #19 - Turning a Blind Eye

AO3 LINK HERE

Fill under cut.

------------------------------------------

"Sit, Sazha."

Only two words, but they carried the unmistakable note of command.

L'haiya dus Eyahri had had the run of the Laskaris household since he'd come to live here, with a remarkable carte blanche that precious few non-Garleans in her position could boast. Even if it was in large part because Julian rem Laskaris no longer cared to see to such matters himself, let alone the rearing and education of his only daughter.

Although Sazha had outstripped her in height with last year's growth spurt, Aurelia's governess intimidated him every ilm as much now as she had when he was naught but a nameless market district starveling, insinuating himself into the household of one of the Empire's great families through chance alone. 

In truth, he wasn't certain the lord of the house was willing to challenge her often. She wielded her authority the way a castrum prafectus might. Small wonder Lord Julian let her do as she wished.

Sazha sat. His tail twitched with apprehension, smacking the arm of the chair.

For her part L'haiya peered down at him with her arms folded across her chest, expression oddly neutral. 

"I suppose you're wondering why you were summoned," she said without preamble.

He was fairly certain he knew already, but nodded regardless. She stood before him in silence for a few beats before moving towards the master's grand chair, sitting empty by the fireplace. The flagstones were immaculate, free of ash, the pit itself barren - Ala Mhigo's winters were chilly, and also the only time the villa was cold enough to need a fire.

"Lord Julian has asked to speak with me about a matter that concerns the pair of you."

Sazha felt his stomach clench and took a deep and measured breath. With any luck she sensed none of his internal turmoil.

"Concerning what?"

"He and I are both fairly certain that Aurelia will pass her extrance exams and be admitted to the Imperial Magitek Academy's medical programme." L'haiya sat, folding her hands in her lap, legs folded and ankles crossed, posture a perfect mirror of any Garlean lady he had ever seen. "As I'm certain you've noticed, Lord Julian is not... the most amiable man, but he is well aware of his daughter's fondness for you."

"Elle, I'm not sure what this has to do wit-"

"If it is determined that she is to enroll, he wishes for the two of us to accompany her to the capital for her orientation next autumn."

That... was not what he had expected to hear. "Wait. You mean..."

"In addition, Lord Julian has offered to make an arrangement with the viceroy which would waive your conscription draft requirement for a full year, in order that you might do so."

"Oh," he said, somewhat faintly. Sazha's hands had curled into fists with his apprehension and as he exhaled softly he felt them start to uncurl from his sweat-soaked palms. "Well, that's... that's good, isn't it? I'm sure Aurelia will be delighted when you give her the news."

"I'm not done," she lifted one hand, palm facing outward. "You will thank Lord Julian for his generosity and decline that offer."

Stunned, Sazha’s smile froze and faltered before it disappeared entirely.

"What- why would you want me to decline? If he believes Aurelia has need of me, then as her closest friend I should-"

"No."

"What do you mean, 'no'? You don't intend to send her halfway across the world alone, do you? Elle, she'll be miserable by herself."

"Aurelia will not be alone. She will simply be apart from you," L'haiya said flatly, settling her hand back into her lap, "and that separation will be a better outcome for all concerned. Yourself included."

His heart began to pound. He'd never tried to gainsay his guardian before. Aurelia, possessed of a far more tenacious disposition, had butted heads with L'haiya many a time over the years and such altercations nearly always ended poorly for her. She'd been severely lectured, dressed down by her father, had her outdoor privileges taken away on several occasions, had endured all manner of censure - and it didn't matter. She always defied them the moment she saw fit, usually over some injustice whether real or perceived.

Sazha himself had always been the model child: the grateful ward, the boy who never gave his guardian trouble.

Well, he told himself firmly, there's a first time for everything. "I'm not leaving her."

"Yes. You are."

"Elle-"

She was tapping something in her hand against the armrest. Blue. Small. The card he'd received in the post just yesterday afternoon.

"Early tomorrow morning, I expect you to take your leave of the house permanently. You will take a transport across the loch, present yourself at Porta Praetoria, and obey what orders you are given as per the demands of the draft."

"You can't be serious. You're asking me to just... to simply up and leave her? Without any warning?"

"No, I'm telling you. This is not a request."

"Why are you doing this? I've done nothing to deserve this sudden change and yet you're so eager to rid yourself of me."

L'haiya let out a long, sharp sigh.

"I have let the two of you alone because until now I deemed your presence a benefit. You have been what she desperately needed, a boon companion, one who keeps her feet firmly anchored to the earth where they belong. Were it not for us, I've little doubt that girl would be as blindly adherent to these foolish and dangerous notions of self-superiority as the rest of her kind."

His face flushed; he felt for a moment a flash of protective anger.

"She is stronger than you think," he retorted. "Even if she weren't, none of this explains why you wish to send me skulking away like- like some thief, in the dead of night. As if I've done something wrong."

For long moments, his guardian said nothing. But her expression was as severe as he'd ever seen it, and her gaze-- there might as well have been steel in her eyes, so unflinching was that stare. 

Sazha's protest died on his lips.

"I know what you're thinking, young man," she said, the words clipped and cold. "You think that because no one has said aught to either of you about it, surely no one must be the wiser. Rest assured, I do know. There are rumors. Alarming rumors, which I have managed to dispel only at great risk."

"Why didn't you-"

"Why didn't I say anything? I should have, and you're fortunate that I intervened. If her father knew I would be the least of your worries. He would easily be able to claim you were the instigator of your little romance, and no court would question him, not in this land nor any other in the Empire. They'd stretch your neck before a sennight had passed." "Nothing has even happened between us!" "You know as well as I do that wouldn't matter to them either."

Sazha swallowed. He couldn't take his eyes off the card in her hand.

"Friendship - as much as any of us can truly befriend a Garlean - is all well and fine. But you cannot allow yourself to be more than that." Something almost like sympathy lingered in the twist of her lips. "Not here."

With effort he managed to wrench his eyes away from hers to stare at the pattern on the Thavnairian rug, shoulders hunched, chin dropped in silent defeat. His ears flattened unhappily against his head, tail slapping the seat cushion, and he could still feel her stare boring into him. He wanted to refuse. He wanted to defy her the way Aurelia always did when she ran up against L'haiya's rules.

But Sazha understood the stakes. As much as he loved her, he knew Aurelia wouldn't, not really. Real consequences didn’t yet exist in her world. But in his, in L’haiya’s, they did, and they went far beyond the trivial reprisal of being caught with a stolen treat or sneaking out for a night beyond the walls of the villa.

"She won't understand," he said, very softly.

"No," L'haiya agreed. "She'll see it as a betrayal of the worst sort."

He swallowed again. His throat felt so tight it was difficult to breathe. The sound of a creak across the room, footsteps, made his right ear flicker against his hair. "She'll hate me," Sazha whispered, and then there were arms around him and his guardian's scent drifting between them like a cloud. Sweet pea. He recognized it from the garden.

"She'll hate me, you mean," and he could hear a certain melancholy resignation alongside the wry note in her voice. "But I can weather her anger just fine."

"But-"

"No buts, boy. Don't you worry yourself about Aurelia. You're right about one thing- she's strong."

"Obstinate, you mean," Sazha snorted. His sight seemed to blur at the edges- briefly mortified, he swiped with one thumb at the moisture that seeped from the corner of his eye. "Stubborn as a bloody aurochs."

"Aye, just like her lord father. Her mother, come to that. She'll need that tenacity of hers soon enough, but she'll manage well enough on her own whether she believes it or not.”

He sighed. “I know.” 

“I'll make sure she can write to you from that school- but you keep your head down and do what they tell you, do you understand? Stay out of trouble. I- we can't lose you too."

Overhead he heard a trembling sigh, then what felt suspiciously like a kiss placed against the crown of his head. He was unsure what she meant by that but knew full well that she wept, a sight even Aurelia had never seen before. 

He also knew she would want him to spare her blushes. Just as he did.

So Sazha nodded. And only when the wick of the table lamp began to gutter did he take his leave, the little blue draft card securely tucked into his vest pocket.

[celestialspark]

FFxivWrite2020 Participation Prize

A belated piece for FFxivWrite 2020 winner @\borilycha on Twitter!

Thanks at @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast​ for keeping an eye out so that everyone gets something, even if it's a bit later!

As wished, Ysayle enjoying some good time with a moogle :3

Twitter

[katalinhunter]

Row

Yet another memory: Katalin

Everything was laid out nice and orderly in preparation for the ceremony: chairs for the attendees, tables lined with food, staff standing in preparation, even the banners that marched up and down along each wall.

Katalin had no memory of what it had been for, wasn't even sure that she had known at the time. It was just another job in Ul'dah. Her client was some merchant who had money but not much sense and had pissed off a couple of people needlessly. Which led to her being here for this five-minute ceremony followed by social dealings and mingling - and dancing.

Which, thankfully he was a good dancer. It was obviously something that he took great pride in, leading her across the floor and carefully adjusting for her missteps. "It's a common misconception, you know," making idle conversation that seemed to blend into the music. "Most people don't think that Tia's are deprived when it's really just the opposite."

"Uh huh," she replied disinterestedly. Fortunately the Seeker's height helped with keeping a watchful eye out. As with much of the earlier conversation, politics and trade deals, this was just another irrelevant bit. Background noise.

"Of course you're from the Shroud, right? You don't have a strong accent but I can hear traces of it. I don't know how my kin out there can stand living in that... society." Smoothly they moved in and amongst the others with no signs of trouble.

Her reply, a simple "Hmmm..." seemed enough to keep him talking.

"Much like any others, I think the tribes there could come around. I might look in that direction, once I have everything established here." The music slowed to a stop and they came to a rest. "They just need to quit their foolishness and have someone with a proper grip guiding them."

The highlander slid her hand upwards gently, from his hip, along his side, then finally coming to rest with her fingers resting atop his shoulder as she pulled him in slightly, lowering her head. With a smile she slowly dug her thumb in beneath. "I'd recommend you releasing that grip on my arse right now."

[sea-wolf-coast-to-coast]

FFxiv 30 Day Writing Challenge SEPTEMBER 1st - 30th, 2020

Welcome to YEAR 4 of our annual FFxiv 30 Day Writing Challenge, folks!

In 2017 we saw 2,451 written pieces ranging from three-lined haikus to multi-paged stories. 2018 ramped up even more with 3,641 written pieces, and 2019 ended with 6,543 written pieces counted! 

That means that in 3 years you’ve collectively written 12,635 pieces for this challenge!! That’s amazing!

Here’s the gist:

Runs from September 1st - 30th, 2020. During that time frame:

Visit sea-wolf-coast-to-coast​ once a day at 12:00pm (noon) PDT for the prompt of the day. Convert to your timezone accordingly. All prompts will be one word or brief phrase that you can interpret however you please.

You have 24 hours to write something for that prompt.

Submit the link to your entry post via this Google Form: https://forms.gle/2x9GYu73YTVbPAeR8

There are no length or skill requirements (short & sweet is fine!).

There will be no 24-hour deadlines for the first week, September 1st - 7th.

Makeup/extra credit days every Sunday.

Every entry posted within its 24-hour deadline will count toward a participation prize raffle at the end.

You can join any time with any prompt #! There’s no need for latecomers to start with prompt #1. Picking up with the most recent prompt is A OK.

If you’re an artist and you would like to volunteer to do a simple black & white illustration as a participation prize at the end of this challenge, you can volunteer here!

RULES & MORE INFO can be found here: https://ffxiv-write.carrd.co/

(( banner art by @dantinmikannes ))

Rules & Info || Prompt List || #FFxivWrite2020 || kofi

[onyrica]

Cassia Hawke - [ FFXIV Write 2020 Reward ]

Congratulations to @kunstpause on winning a lineart bust for participating in the 2020 FFXIV write challenge! I loved drawing this one- especially that braid. <3

Winner: @kunstpause​ Organiser: @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast Tag:  FFxivWrite2020 Participation Prize

Support my art: [ patreon.com/onyrica ]

[r2ruen]

FFXIVWrite2020 Participation Prize

For participation prize winner: @luck-and-larceny  Character: Malika Bajihri Congrats! Thank you for the easy back and forth in communicating. Very sweet and very understanding despite my chaotic flailing. Thanks!

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast (Thank you for hosting. It was fun!)

[benjimirthursby]

FFXIV Write 2021, Prompt #1 "Foster."

FFXIV Write 2021 entry, prompt #1 “Foster.”

The Book of Thursby: Scions of Numenor “Fetch and Carry.”

“Boredom is the birthmother of frivolity. Given enough time a sufficiently unengaged people will give rise to the same trinkets and distractions and the craft which makes them possible.”

-Ossmira Miegs, “Technospectives.”

Ches sifted her way through the dirt with a soft brush from her kit until reaching solidly packed soil, hardened for a millenia or longer. She replaced the brush to her leather dig kit and withdrew a small rock hammer. The head was new to the handle, made of pure Mythril from the east. It was a gift of sorts from a close associate who was bound to a pack of private mariner soldiers for hire. There was as story, even a song about the broken hammer heads his kindred. They were foster children to a venerated woman named Mother Maxwell. Not unlike herself.

The hammer made short work of the condensed dirt and after further work she came upon her quarry. Drawing it from a pocket of soil, which had produced a form fitting pocket that protected it for until she found it, she packed her kit and wrapped the strange object in an oil rag and deposited it in her long leather duster. Satisfied her work was done, she adjusted the rim of her leather fedora, turned and spied a ring of men in the hall between her and the exit. “Chocopoo.” she muttered.

Baxter Twinkinryker IV, “The Quad,” as his kindred Lalafel dubbed him, favored a tweed jacket with leather elbow pads and a rust hued fedora favored by his compatriots. His broom like mustache was not common but seemed to complete the quasi academic look he favored.

He awaited Ches’ returned quietly outside the archway to the ruins. The fat chocobo he rented from the keeper in Ul’Dah cooed and pecked upward at the bait at the end stick riders would use to direct it along, hoping for a random bite.

At last the rapid footfalls from within the entrance faded as Ches came in a tremendous rush out of it. As she passed him and began to mount the Chocobo he asked, “Was it there? Did you get it there?”

Not stoping, She lept upon the saddle and reaching down she grasped Baxter by his tastefully matched tweed vest and flung him into the rumble seat behind her. “Yes it was, yes I did. We go home now” Ches said, pulling the direction stick from it’s mount, spurring the Chocobo and reeling it to the left. Baxter could hear the report of weapons and feet rising from the entrance to the ruins again as the great and fat bird lunged forward and away. At once there was a sharp crack, then another, and the arch of the entrance collapsed. Standing in his little seat behind Ches Baxter looked aghast at the runs all about seeming to fall pel mel. “What did you do?” he asked. “Making friends and influencing people.” Ches replied.

[high-and-away]

Extremely Late FFXIVWrite 2020 Masterpost

I realized that I never did one of these for last year’s and figured that I should get it out of the way before I did one for 2021. 1. Crux: Reapers are not, have never been, and will never be fully amphibious, no matter how loudly Claudia pyr Servius insists them to be so. The Velodyna River steps up to prove her wrong. 2. Sway: A girl, a tree, and a gun, and a long, cold wait in the rain. 3. Muster: How not to meet your new boss: accidentally trespassing on company property after she buys out your old boss. 4. Clinch: It’s Probably Pirates 2: Yeah, It’s Definitely Pirates. 8. Clamor: Two misfits learn how to make friends while waiting to throw themselves out of an airship. 9. Lush: The wood is his domain, and his duty as lord is to judge those who pass within it. 10. Avail: Aiming through a scope is one thing. It’s different when you have to look each other in the eye. 12. Tooth and Nail: No one can keep their composure in pain forever, no matter how desperate they are. Not Victoria, either, even when cornered by someone who twists every knife that finds its way into her hand. 14. Part: Stop feeding your dog shit from VII-XI, Laelia. 16. Lucubration: There are things so beautiful that one aches to touch them, even if they would crumble to dust in one’s hands. For Victoria, magic is chief among them. 18. Panglossian: GET OUT SAWYER, WE’RE GOING SHOPPING PARACHUTING. 24. Beam: Valens jen Caddicus keeps his secrets, even as the griffins soar overhead and the XIIth Legion scrabbles for a place to hide. (Personal recommendations: Crux, Sway, and Lush, especially the latter.)

[shieldkeeper]

FFXIVWrite Masterlist Thread

Writing Entries

Total Words: 21593

01. Cross (Pipin) 02. Bolt (Bandit AU Pipin) 03. Temper (Frostbite AU Holou and Garen) 04. Skip 05. Cutting Corners (Dwarf AU Pipin) 06. Onerous (Frostbite AU Holou) 07. Pawn (Garen) 08. Tepid (Ruruvan) 09. Yawn (Garen) 10. Channel (Frostbite AU Garen) 11. Skip 12. Miss the Boat (Pipin) 13. Confluence (Fos) 14. Attrition (Pipin) 15. Row (Garen) 16. Deiform (Frostbite AU Garen) 17. Novel (Olyxio) 18. Skip 19. Turn a Blind Eye (Bandit AU Pipin) 20. Anon (Pipin) 21. Solution (Pipin) 22. Veracity (Frostbite AU Garen) 23. Pitch (Pipin) 24. Vicissitudes (Garen) 25. Skip 26. Break a Leg (Pipin) 27. Hail (Garen) 28. Vainglory (Dwarf AU Pipin) 29. Fuse (Pipin) 30. Sojourn (Garen)

[hiraethwyl]

petrichor

Ahlain looked up at the dense canopy above them, squinting a bit. If he tilted his head just right he could almost make out a splash of blue or white between the densely packed treetops. He glanced down then at the Keeper crawling his way over a fallen log, nearly upside down as he peered into the hollow of the rotten wood, white tail curved over his back like a squirrel before it swayed with his balance.  The Ishgardian smirked fondly. “Find anything yet?” He trudged down the pine needle strewn slope toward Lyrin’a, watching him dig about in the guts of the dead tree.  His answer was a presented mushroom nearly the size of his head. Lyrin’a grinned up at him, clearly pleased with his fungus the color of a pale purple bruise.  “Blewit! I told you we’d find some here, this part gets a lot of moisture off the lake it’s perfect for mushrooms. And these are some doozies.” The catte quickly sat up onto his knees enough to shove the giant mushroom into Ahlain’s hands then went back for more.  “Are these eating mushrooms or medicine mushrooms or.. magic.. mushrooms..” He hesitated at the end, not entirely sure magic had been the word he wanted but frankly the Keeper brand of shamanism was still entirely foreign to him.  Lyrin’a peered at him from where he was, tail up as he rooted further into the log. “Magic? You mean for rituals and stuff? No. Those have the big red caps. We wear gloves for those.” Said so matter of factly Ahlain wasn’t sure if he was jesting or not. He knew some of these things were horrifically poisonous, had been warned about them by other Wailers. Not to Keepers apparently. He glanced around them casually then looked up again. No dragons, of course, but he did spy a flash of grey through the leaves. “How do you tell what time it is?” “You don’t.” Oh. “Well, how do you know if it’s going to rain?” “It is raining.” Lyrin’a didn’t look up, though he did sit back on his knees cradling a couple more large mushrooms, though not quite so large as the first one.  Ahlain blinked at him. “Excuse me?” That got a pair of pale eyes looking up at him. “I said it is raining. Over that way.” His head jerked to their left, off toward to the west of them. “How...” “I can smell it--” Lyrin’a paused-- “can’t you?” “No,” came the baffled response, leaving both of them looking at the other oddly before amused grins were shared. Ahlain broke the silence again, a soft, curious kind of tone. “What does it smell like?” “Trr’ikhor,” The Keeper supplied, hauling himself to his feet and shifting to set his finds out on the log so he could begin wrapping them for the trip home. He glanced over at Ahlain when he was met with silence and laughed at the expression he wore. Then he glanced up slightly, trying to consider how to translate that. “Stone blood. ...you know, the way the earth smells after a rain. Kinda like dirt but.. deeper.”  “And here we just called it rain.” Ahlain smirked down at him, before crossing the small distance between them to hold out the mushroom he’d been given. His other hand reached to tug lightly on the tail waving between them.