#Garlemald hc

[theimperialnuisance]

FFXIV Write 2023 || FFXIV Write info\\Prompt list\\Character info \\Master post ||

Prompt 25: Call it a day

end a period of activity, especially resting content that enough has been done

Character(s): Atticus Wolfram (aged 10)  Cw: none Word count: 613 Notes: Just a little intro to who Atticus’s first love was (the childhood friend referenced on day 11) Just a note that Atticus’s last name used to be Vendelin (hence the reference to 'Ven' on day 2) before he fled Garlemald. Figured I’d get that out of the way now so as to not cause any confusion! I am taking some liberties here with some stuff--personal hc on how I figured training worked before someone joined the Legion. First draft for now to get my thoughts out but I’ll clean it up after work! Readmore in place of a banner!

“Again,”

A swing of his blade in timed rhythm with the other blades around him cut through the air.

“Not fast enough, again!”

The blade swung to the left, just barely missing the boy’s hand next to him as he turned to swing his blade to the left a tick late.

“Norbanus! That delay could’ve cost you a hand!”

The boy next to Atticus—Norbanus, faltered a little, the exhaustion clearly beginning to set in. “Sorry sir, I just need a moment.”

“If you want to join any of the Legion’s boy, you won’t have many moments to rest. Again!”

And again, the boy–Norbanus faltered, this time stumbling forward, his blade sliding across the ground causing everyone else nearby to stop and stare.

The man heaved a sigh, placing his hands on his hips. “Alright, let’s call it a day. Get some rest recruits–I want you all in tip top shape before sunrise tomorrow. We’ll be running extra drills no thanks to your friend Norbanus over here.” A collective groan but one sharp look from their trainer and they all quieted down. “Good. Dismissed!”

A collective “Sir!” was chorused throughout the small group as they all saluted and disbanded the moment their trainer left the room. Most of the others whispered and snickered at Norbanus as they passed but Atticus stayed behind to help retrieve his practice sword and offer a hand up. Norbanus looked embarrassed at the thought of being helped up and stubbornly decided to heave himself up on his own to save himself from even further remarks from any lingering people.

“It was bound to happen to one of us,” Atticus muttered nonchalantly. He was glad it wasn’t him as he got enough stares and push back from the others for being half-Garlean but he’d never admit that outloud to the other. “The guy’s got a stick up his arse. We’re not even part of the military yet, it’s just pre-training for Legionaries, what’s his deal anyways?”

“My dad said he used to be a Legionary for the first Legion before he was formally dismissed for one reason or another but then the brute came back on his own…I think that makes him an Evocatus or something…”

Atticus scoffed lightly. “Well that makes sense why he’s been so hard on us when it’s only been a week…I wonder why he rather deal with amateurs like us instead of going back to his Legion.”

“Who knows? But I guess he’s just better preparing us for the real thing.” Norbanus paused, scuffling his feet. “I’ve got to get better too. I want to prove to my family my worth for the Empire.”

“You have time,” Atticus hummed as he tossed water to the other who easily caught it. “We can train together if you’d like, take it at your own pace.”

The other cracked a small smile, holding his hand out. “We’ve not formally met. Norbanus. Jullus Norbanus. Thanks for sticking around.” He added shyly.

“I know what it’s like to be the odd one out, figured it would be easier if you weren’t alone.” Atticus accepted his hand and shook it, mirroring his smile. “Vendelin. Atticus Vendelin.”

“Has anyone just called you Ven?”

“You’d be the first.”

“Well then that’s what I’ll call you from now on!” Jullus pulled out his sword and gestured to the practice dummy in the corner of the room. “Come on, let’s get to work! He may have told us to call it for today but I don’t think I’m quite ready to go home yet, you?”

“Not one bit!” Atticus laughed, pulling out his own sword, giving it a few good swings. “Let’s get started!”

[stxrmnight]

If your WoL did the FFXIV event it means they know cars by another name

Credit of course to this post

[heirbane]

Other than the visor from his suit of armor, Gaius only has bits and pieces of who he used to be and where he came from. Not all of the leftovers are clearly Garlean, and none of them were carried with him from the Praetorium.

He had visited the wreckage once, just to see if there was anything to salvage. But there wasn't. Not even his dignity, as he withdrew from the grave of soldiers, friend and for alike, and promptly threw up so harshly that it brought stars to his eyes. It was a humorless reminder of how he laid, dying. He left and never returned.

The box of cigars in the bottom of his rucksack carry the insignia of the Empire and the smell of tobacco and evergreens. He had not asked the merchant how he had obtained them - or, rather, off of what body. It was half empty when he bought it, and the space left over was swiftly filled with Thavnarian cigarettes, rolled thin and filled with tobacco and spice.

He only has smoked one of the cigars, with two remaining. He split it with Severa one night when they were both more homesick than sane, passing the cigar back and forth like two people could exchange secrets.

"These are usually saved for celebrations," he had noted.

"We're still alive," Severa had offered, shrugging one shoulder.

(Was life a celebration or a curse, he still was uncertain.)

The Thavnarian cigarettes came and went, however. He and Valdeaulin smoked them on more frequent occasions, often alongside a beer or two when they had gathered enough coin to warrant an inn stay. It was another celebration, he supposed: a hot bath, a hot meal, and a warm bed. Worthy enough of a smoke.

The small glass bottle he kept in his bag, half-full with an amber hue, was also Garlean. It was recovered from an abandoned encampment, one of many things they stole from the dead in the name of staying with the living. They had slept in newer tents and newer bedrolls that night, passing around the smoky whiskey and grimacing.

Someone had watered it down - it's owner, he assumed - and had turned the bottom barrel spirit into little more than piss water. Severa had been the only one not to complain, a forlorn fondness in her expression.

Her father had watered down her first drink as an adult, she explained, barely fifteen and still spindley like a child. He had wanted her to have one last good memory before she went to basic training - lest she not make it home.

It was thin and nostalgic, bitter without the sweet, and he had placed the bottle and it's last dregs in his pack. It reminded him of Allie, this second-hand memory.

The last few pieces are ones he recovered from his own home. What had once been a high rise building, full of apartments and studios for soldiers and students, now resided on the ground - bent and broken, doors and windows wide open as if to sob and cry at the disgrace of it all. Gaius couldn't be certain any of it was truly his. It had been more than five years since his death; the city had likely repossessed the property, desperate to reclaim a fraction of the wealth they had poured into Gaius as a soldier.

What remained in the ashes and blackened steel was a handful of coin, embellished with Solus's face on one side; half of a ring, the gem ripped from it's clasp; and a fireproof safe, the top cracked and dented in.

The combination was like muscle memory, the date of his enlistment, and with the aid of brute force, the door creaked open.

He had kept very little in that safe - but the adoption certificates for all of his children were the most important.

Despite the most having perished, he was able to keep some modicum of proof that they had once lived, and that was more precious than anything else he had ever kept.

[sands-of-amber]

FFXIV Write Entry #1: Cosmic Love

❀ Prompt #9: Fair (Entry for Makeup Day #10) || Read it w/ notes on AO3 here ❀

Excerpt: He knelt before her grave for—what was it now—the tenth time? The twentieth? It did not matter, it may as well be the thousandth, for a single time was already one too many. The shadows from the clouds overhead cast their slow-moving gloom over the figure hunched upon the snowy ground, the watercolor hues of the sunset peeking through every so often. A rare respite from the usual grey skies that hung over Garlemald.

But you are not here to see it.

--

The fact that he had gone through it before didn’t serve to make it hurt any less, didn’t stop that old familiar ache from flaring up from deep in his chest. No. No matter how many times he was forced to repeat this cycle of grief, it never dulled the sting any. It never became easier to stomach like he’d hoped against hope that it would.

Each and every time, it was like another knife thrust into his chest and wrenched, finding new ways to carve away at whatever remained of his tired old heart.

And the guilt… The guilt he felt, especially upon conclusions in the same vein as this one, always struck him with such force that it was almost unbearable.

Knelt before her grave for—what was it now—the tenth time? The twentieth? It did not matter, it may as well be the thousandth, for a single time was already one too many. The shadows from the clouds overhead cast their slow-moving gloom over the figure hunched upon the snowy ground, the watercolor hues of the sunset peeking through every so often. A rare respite from the usual grey skies that hung over Garlemald.

But you are not here to see it.

The Emperor slowly rises to his tired feet and stares straight ahead at the elegant memorial before him, his hands tucked inside his coat pockets to lessen the chill of the icy wind, though it did little to lessen the bitter cold coming from within. It was a beautiful tribute: a statue made in her likeness, commissioned out of the finest marble by the most skilled artisans the land could offer. The pearlescent figure depicts the late Empress in a regal and elegant manner: sat upon the throne in ceremonial attire, crown upon her head and a serious yet somehow soft expression upon her face.

An inscription engraved on the plaque below the statue reads, ‘In loving memory of Her Radiance, first Empress of Garlemald, Aelia wir Galvus.’ The Garlean insignia sits proudly below the dates that denote the start and end of her painfully short life and the brief written tribute to her service to the Empire. Each time he stood here and gazed upon it, the date of her death slipped further and further into the past, but to him it still felt like just yesterday that her light faded from this world.

Next to his late wife’s grave stood that of their firstborn son, Lucius yae Galvus. To the people, he was simply  the crown prince whose reign never came to be, but to Emet-Selch, he was a hard lesson— a painful reminder that to hope was folly. To hope was to deny the bitter truth that he’d known deep down for millennia but had stubbornly refused in his foolish joy at finally getting to play “family” with the one soul his heart could not, would not, ever let go.

Foolish, stubborn hope. How sweet its first bite—and how sour its aftertaste.

He had kept up his façade as stern and hardened leader well enough, for he’d had eons of practice at tucking away and dulling his emotions by now and it was easy enough to slip on the mask of Emperor Solus whenever needed. It was easier still to drown (or at least numb) the pain in bottles of spirits or whatever play was currently showing at the theatre. He’d never cared much for the idea of utilizing alcohol as a vice back in the simpler days, but its appeal grew ever clearer through each torturous century he spent toiling away here. And it worked in his favor, because to the outside world it appeared as though he were acting as any other rich and ultra-powerful man should—gorging on the finest and most lavish of booze and entertainment that the palace’s coffers could buy. Only he, and to an extent his two co-conspirators, knew the real force driving his indulgence.

Despite his near-flawless outward performance, though, he’d been a wreck ever since the day she’d died and taken another little piece of him with her. He’d watched on in abject horror as the light of her brilliant soul had grown dimmer and dimmer, slowly fading out of this fractured world just after another soul’s light had entered it. Had only half-listened, pale-faced and heart in his throat, as the head chirurgeon bowed his head and mournfully told him what he already knew. He’d had to accept the wailing newborn into his arms and turn away from her still form as an attendant ushered him out of the room, chancing one last glimpse of her soul as they covered her body with the bloodied sheet, watched it abandon her fragile mortal form and slip away to return unto the lifestream.

And then there had been the matter of explaining the bitter truth to Lucius, of answering the dreaded questions of a naive child wondering why he wasn’t allowed to go see his mother after his brother was born, and why his father had shut himself away with the newborn and a nurse and he himself had been bade away and urged not to bother him for the moment. The palace had been cold and quiet that day, a solemn mood spreading among its inhabitants as the news inevitably made its rounds as it often so quickly did within those walls where servants’ gossip was an ever-turning wheel. And of course that gossip had made its way to the ears of the young prince, forcing Emet-Selch into a difficult situation when the boy came wanting for the truth.

And then years later in his prime, Lucius was ripped from him just the same, taken by the same wretched ailment that had afflicted his mother and left her body weakened, too fragile to survive her second birth. In both cases, the illness had not been known until it was already too late and their souls had gone back into the cycle to repeat this endless dance of death and rebirth at the hands of that horrid Hydaelyn.

Much as he wanted to love Titus and cherish the gift she’d given him—the life she’d given up her own to bring into the world for him—he just couldn’t. It ate away at him, the guilt of not loving this child the way he did Lucius, but try as he might he only ever felt numb when he looked upon his youngest son. To glimpse him was to glimpse the last remaining fragment of herself she’d left behind in this incarnation, to acknowledge him was to acknowledge that he himself had her blood on his hands. 

For one fleeting moment in time, we were happy. We had a family of our own and the world at our feet. I managed to find her, to pull her up out of this cesspit crawling with unworthy halfmen and their filth and raise her far above them where she rightfully belongs. And in so doing, I let down my guard and dared to dream that this time would be different.

But it was never any different, and he knew it. He had allowed himself to get swept up in foolish fantasies of marriage and having children and chasing the life they’d never fully gotten to have back then. When she’d discovered her second pregnancy he’d been surprised, having thought one was enough of a miracle, but he’d been happy nevertheless. Two was a good number—it was the amount of children they’d talked of potentially having back then. She’d delivered their first without any trouble, so the fear had scarcely been on his mind until he was suddenly watching her die right in front of him all because of what he had done to her. It was his fault, and he wore the blame heavy upon his shoulders much like the rest of his ceaseless burdens.

“There you are, Your Radiance. We have been looking for you; Lord Varis wishes to-”

“Leave me. Whatever it is, it can wait.”

The young page opens his mouth as if to say something more, but he immediately thinks better of it when Solus turns his head ever so slightly in the boy’s direction, just enough to shoot him a hardened glare from those weary aurum eyes. It’s a look that most would know better than to challenge, and young and inexperienced as the boy might be he’s smart enough to silently dismiss himself and leave the Emperor to his brooding.

Solus sighs, a heavy sigh that rattles his chest as he turns his gaze upward toward the heavens. Weary though his body may be in its old age, he wishes to stand here a little longer before retreating back to the seat of his throne. It was something he liked to do every year on the anniversary of her death, the one little sliver of foolish and hopeless romanticism he’d let himself cling onto—he liked to come out here and tell her about the goings on in the world and the progress he and his brothers had made with their plans. And then he’d look up and watch the flow of aether as life moved tirelessly around him, and wish that he could return to that aetherial sea once his mortal vessel had gasped its last breath.

What he would not give to join them.

Once he has had enough of allowing himself to feel for the time being, he turns and begins to make his way back inside the palace, but not before spitting at the sky and cursing Hydaelyn one last time for taking her away from him over and over again. For taking everything he’d ever loved and always finding ways to    weaponize that love against him. For punishing his selfless duty to the star by holding hostage the soul he was already eternally bound and devoted to—the soul which had been his long before She had claimed it for her own—and leaving him with naught but a madman and an empty shell of a devoted emissary for companions, neither of whom would ever be able to understand his plight far gone as they were. Not to mention two surviving ever-present reminders of what almost was, each with their own living legacies now that would ensure his mistake continued to create its grotesque ripples through time.

To call it unfair would be a gross trivialization at best.

[eemamminy-art]

hc + 🚗 for a transportation headcanon pls!

Since there are cars in garlemald there's a non-zero chance that Zenos had a driver's license and I want to think he was so exacting and terrifying with his instructors. They'd all be afraid to fail him because he's the crown prince and also pretty well-known for being a living weapon masterful swordsman since childhood so each instructor he's given tries to just pass him through without any criticism.

... Failing to realize Zenos is also kind of a turbo nerd. They pass him and he's like "Wrong. That maneuver violated four different laws. Now, the real question at hand is whether you are incompetent, lazy, or intentionally trying to sabotage my lessons?" and then the instructor mysteriously disappears and he gets a new one.

For a maybe more lighthearted headcanon, I loved how in FFXVI Clive had a specific chocobo (Ambrosia my beloved) and I like to imagine people in Eorzea have bonds they develop with their chocobos too! Like imagine if Haurchefant's black chocobos he raised all had names, or like he knew the names of all the chocobos he raised who were given to various Lords in Ishgard? 🥺 it would be so cute... I know the player can do that for their wol, name their chocobo and imagine a relationship between their character and their steed, but it's so fun to imagine it for the NPCs too!!

Thematic headcanon ask meme

[cinnabun-faerie]

FFXIV {May 2022 Masterlist}

✧Group HC & Reactions✧

F!WoL singing Girls/Girls/Boys (Lyna, Minfilia, Y'shtola, Ysayle)

WoL buying a house in Ishgard (Aymeric, Estinien, Haurchefant, Lucia)

WoL being taller than them (Aymeric, Emet-Selch, Estinien, Fandaniel, G'raha Tia, Thancred, Y'shtola, Zenos)

Sick WoL (Aymeric, Urianger)

Miqo'te!WoL who bunts & purrs subconsciously when they're around (Ardbert, Artoirel, Erenville, Gaius)

Worst moments ffxiv character could confess to the WoL / Asking the WoL to marry them (Haurchefant, Emet-Selch, Urianger)

Fandom Dads - He escorts you down the aisle (Barbatos, Edmont de Fortemps, Estinien, Lucifer, Shota Aizawa, Simeon, Thancred, All Might, Urianger)

Special Threesome HCs (Zenos x Reader x Fandaniel)

They comfort the WoL after they receive some bad news (Emet-Selch, Urianger)

Antagonists & the films they'd choose for movie nights (Emet-Selch, Fandaniel, Hermes, Zenos)

How they'd protect their beloved WoL if they met someone who made them feel uncomfortable (Artoirel, Aymeric, Estinien, Haurchefant, Hythlodaeus, Urianger)

How they’d handle the Ishgardians' negativity towards genderfluid!WoL

WoL that absolutely loves picking fights with others for the sake of thrill or battle glory (Alisaie, Alphinaud, Estinien, G'raha Tia, Thancred, Urianger, Y'shtola, Zenos)

WoL gives them a flower crown (Alisaie, Alphinaud, Estinien, G'raha Tia, Thancred, Urianger, Y'shtola)

Tank!WoL is reckless yet protective of their S/O (Alphinaud, Urianger)

✧Solo HC & Reactions✧

G’raha with a Miqo’te WoL S/O

Crystal Exarch realizes that the WoL is using his old bow he left behind when he sealed himself away in the tower

WoL misses Alphinaud so much that they pay him a visit in Garlemald

Estinien Proposal HCs

Aymeric Proposal HCs

WoL finding out Y'shtola can purr

Artoirel Proposal HCs

Alphinaud Proposal HCs

Whenever Miqo'te!WoL and Y'shtola sit together, their tails unconsciously wrap around the other's

Haurchefant Proposal HCs

G'raha Tia Proposal HCs

Emet-Selch playing Neath Dark Waters for the WoL

Y'shtola Proposal HCs

Alphinaud reacts to an Asexual WoL

With a demisexual lover who confesses to their crush, who doesn’t care/is using them

Alphinaud with a sick S/O

Fandaniel Proposal HCs

Zenos Proposal HCs

Urianger Proposal HCs

Thancred Proposal HCs

Gaius Proposal HCs

Erenville Proposal HCs

[plounce]

ffxiv fic ideas that ping around my brain:

pre-shb thancred teaches ryne how to trap and skin a rabbit. and it's half about illustrating them living on the run & thancred teaching her survival skills. and half about the symbolism of it all. and ryne looking at the rabbit. this tug between "yes thancred interacting with me and teaching me, awesome i love positive attention" + "i love living out in the world and being Free" and... the rabbit, hungry and naive, baited into the trap. and thancred looking at ryne and trying to decide whether to have her be the one to kill it. or for him to kill this poor creature who just wanted to live, who he needs to die, in front of her. and they clean it, cook it, eat it, but when they go to sleep ryne can't get its shivering form and big glassy eyes out of her head. (will that be me?) [babybirch_joannanewsom.mp3]

pre-shb urianger taking care of ryne for a month while thancred splits off to throw off a eulmoran tail. urianger and ryne hanging out and having an alright time. half about their relationship (the sweetness, but also the tough spots - urianger's role in ryne's existence (he is guilty about it, while he's the most normal adult in her life so her brain is incapable of being mad at him about it (or is it), ryne's mixed feelings about how thancred is always happier and relaxed and nicer when they're at the shelves (yay he's happy! vs i wish i got that all the time, i wish he thought me worth his best self) (in general there's a lot about the ghost of thancred in the room); half about them exploring the ruins of the bookman's shelves (i firmly believe there are underground cellars), its neighbors, and voeburt in general.

urianger childhood lore. i had some headcanons about him being raised by an old, frail, distant grandmother which got squished a little by ee3 but the new lore is in line with my hc that urianger was neglected as a child and tbh im delighted for confirmation. some stuff about the augerelt family in general. their house (smaller than many in journey's end) having rumors of being haunted. moenbryda. autism.

urianger, moenbryda, thancred, and y'shtola (plus yda?) as teens in old sharlayan, for whatever overlaps they had in the city as youths. i strongly believe that thancred & moenbryda were closer than thancred & urianger were as teens. i also think there's something with y'shtola being forced to leave the colony (and also being raised by y'shtola) and away from matoya and thancred's teenage years spent in Spy School (where they melt your brain) that could result in two really temperamental, angry, resentful teens. louisoix delegating moenbryda to try to be a good friend (good influence) to them, urianger getting taken along for the ride

thancred teaching ryne how to swim.

epistolary/fake media fic. the one i wrote for ds9 is still my fave thing ive written ever. i'd love to write some scion paperwork

lucia and maxima hanging out and talking about growing up gay in fascist conservative garlemald, the revelations about emperor solus, their work in current garlemald, and their opinions on gaius (lucia does not like him over the livia situation, while maxima has always considered him a moderate conservative that he doesn't like but now there's also some strangeness from when they were in the burn in stb patches) (generally 'i dont like him but i dont hate him as much as i used to bc its complicated and hes become emotionally pathetic'). fic would end with them going "fucking nero tol scaeva though, right?" "OH my GOD."

there's more. maybe i'll add to this. who knows. if you get inspired by any of these please write to your heart's desire

[velnica]

So I made this poll after seeing a few people's HC about his age and I thought I'd make my own! Mostly so I can keep my timeline straight but also I don't think I've done this before. Buckle up this is going to get LONG. The bulk of it is under the cut.

TL;DR in my HC, Sanson is 20 going on 21 because he shouldn't be at Carteneau. If he was he would have been more jaded and not as green as he carried himself in the questlines.

Owing to the time bubble (5 years) and my personal timeline (6.5 years) between the Calamity and the start of Heavensward, this would put him at 14 (time bubble: 16) when the call for Carteneau came. Sanson, being the stickler for righteousness that he is, would absolutely have volunteered for it if he could. If he was only 14 he would have been far too young for conscription. I believe this war was the turning point that either made him join the Lancer's Guild after the Calamity, or to focus himself on joining the Adders ranks if he was already there (as opposed to the Wood Wailers).

Why is him not being at Carteneau important? Simple: Sanson's story is one of ushering Gridania to a new future; from reviving the bards, uncovering a century old conspiracy (and holding the military to their words for it), to representing a more cooperative Gridania at Ghimlyt and Garlemald (with Guydelot explicitly saying he'd love to learn Garlean songs, even). If Sanson was at Carteneau, he would have been a changed man with much more cynicism in his blood than the one that we saw. Being young, he could very well be cannon fodders who were drafted just to pad Alliance numbers. He could have even, well, died.

No, to me it's important that both Sanson and Guydelot can look to the future with boundless optimism, instead of one that was born from personal brush with bloodshed a long time ago. There is also a line in the game where Sanson confessed he'd never seen a battle as bloody as Ghimlyt. If he was at Carteneau, I don't think anything would beat a literal meteor/dragon dropping from the sky in terms of sheer scale of violence.

But how could an inexperienced 20 year old be a Captain already? Consider this: in the wake of the Calamity, the Adders ranks (and all the other GCs) would have been thinned by a lot. There might have even been a vacuum in the military and so they all took keen interests in filling these decimated roles up as quick as possible. They were looking outward and inward as Vorsaile himself was a decorated mercenary before he was offered the Commander role. Sanson, with his workaholic tendency, was probably seen as a loyal and diligent soldier.

He probably also took to leadership training very quickly, with very good results (I HC that he is actually a stellar leader, just that he was in denial of this). This made him a very good candidate to be promoted to the Captain role. And this is also IMO why he was so invested in the Ballad of Oblivion. He would have seen his promotion as a great opportunity to prove himself worthy of the role, and being so young, this was probably his first official assignment, all the more reason to throw one's all into it.

But of course he learns very quickly that he's got a lot to learn still. I think the fact that the Adders were so ready to discard him in Stormblood probably shook him to the core—this is why I thought that the military was promoting a lot of people in fairly short time: the new generation were still just numbers to the brass, they were untested beyond Ixal skirmishes; not until Ala Mhigo and Ghimlyt. For Sanson this marks another turning point, that he was staying in the Adders not only as a career but to steer the future of Gridania somewhere better. This is why I go hard on the Grand Serpent Marshal timeline: with Sanson's righteousness, dedication and loyalty, if there is ever a need to fill that role in the future, you have the literal perfect person to fill it.

There is a secondary reason why I thought Sanson was only 20 and it has to do with Guydelot. They're both foils of each other: the (slightly) older person with no ambition, and the younger one with ALL the ambitions. They're meant to contrast each other with how stiff Sanson was, and how lackadaisical Guydelot was.

Sanson probably wished to NOT be like Guydelot when he hits that age, and Guydelot probably thought Sanson was on his way to waste his prime being a stuck up prat for the military. If Sanson was older, he might have been more set in his ways, and might have been less inclined to meet Guydelot halfway. And Guydelot might have thought Sanson be a lost cause because look at him; Guydelot was not in the business of changing anyone who were past his own station in life.

This is very apparent to me in the cutscene in SB where Guydelot praised Sanson for standing his ground. To me that is played almost in a 'senpai proud of his kouhai' kinda way lol. Look at Sanson! He's all grown up! Maybe he could be as good as Guydelot at this sticking to his own conviction thing.

Anyway this is getting *extremely* long, but this is how I see Sanson: a very green young man with ambition in his heart and stars in his eyes, and this could only work if he was not at Carteneau before we met him.

Disclaimer that I am NOT trying to disprove anyone else's HC; in fact I have talked at length to some people about this and still firm in my choice of making him 20yo. Remember that this is all personal preferences! I do confess initially I had him at 24-25 before Alpal and dianna convinced me that he's too innocent to have been a Carteneau survivor.

[asteriasfallingstarsandtears]

What if WoL instead meets Emet for the first time in Eulmore? As a former Garlean resident she'd recognize the Emperor's face, but she also knows that there are doubles at this point on the First. The chances of the very old and very dead Emperor being on the First being incredibly slim in her mind.

And this person, whoever he was, was very much not an elderly man.

This HC also requires the Chais to not accept the WoL when they enter Eulmore, precipitating the need for another sponsor or needing an alternative means of staying for investigation purposes.

(wish I had a little gpose to go with this but sadly not)

“How strange, so very few take in the sight from up here.” She hadn't noticed anyone else here when she had come here.

She turned to apologise for disturbing him but when she met his gaze she found she couldn't speak. Something about him was familiar, even more familiar than G'raha felt. It was impossible that they would have met, though she would have said he looked like the late Emperor of Garlemald. She had met other look alikes since her arrival here, not exactly the same as those she had once known on the Source. It was possible there was a reflection of the Emperor here. She didn't even know what year it was here, it could be the equivalent of his youth now here.

She shook her head, trying to concentrate again. She was babbling to herself, trying to justify what she saw. It was simple, really.

She wasn't on the Source and no one here, save those very few from the Source, were their counterparts.

“Did anyone tell you it's quite rude to stare and not introduce yourself?” His brow raised and he crossed his arms, looking annoyed save for the twitch of his lips. For all his seeming annoyance, he seemed to be fighting off laughing.

She licked her lips, trying to breathe. “Forgive me, sir. I did not know this balcony was occupied, I will leave.”

“Must you? Merely make up for your rudeness.” He strode towards her, leaning easily on the rail beside her. “Your name, for a start, and an explanation of why you might be out here, sad and dressed thus. Is this not the happiest place in all of Norvrandt?”

She snorted. “Happy for some.”

“True, there are a number of rather unhappy people below.” His lips curled up in a smile. “Now, will you make me guess?”

There was no way for anyone to know her here, and despite his being a stranger, she felt at ease with him. Far more at ease than she had in a very long time. Not since Haurchefant’s death, anyway. “Mina.”

“Mina.” He repeated, looking amused. “Hardly a common name amongst your folk. I'm sure there is quite a story about it.”

“Nothing so exciting, save I wasn't raised amongst my kind.” She wasn't lying, she hadn't been. She knew what her name would have been, but it did not follow the Mystal traditions, so it wasn't worth repeating here. “As for why I'm out here, my would be patrons have rejected me. It was but a moment of weakness.”

Also not a lie. It was easier to tell a kernel of truth always.

“Ah, you are new to this fair city. No wonder you do not feel the joy and exaltation so many others here do.” He gave a dramatic wave of his arm and rolled his eyes. “And so, you find solace on…” He peered over the rail, seeing only the sea before them and the crystalized wall of Light. “Emptiness?”

“Perhaps the decadence inside was overwhelming.” She shrugged. “I'll have to return eventually, if only to enjoy what brief time I've left.”

“Hm, you'll give up so easily?” He leaned on the rail.

“Hardly.” She grinned. “I've options, I'm told. Something called the Honeybee?”

He scowled. “Surely not, not you. You would be unimpressed and bored of the seductions that happen there within hours. It's hardly a challenge.”

“Maybe I don't want a challenge, the world's tough, and an easy life sounds…” she had trouble keeping a straight face. She knew exactly what the Honeybee was. She would be bored. “Well, the world doesn't always give us what we want.”

He didn't say anything about that, only tapped his fingers distractedly. She was about to excuse herself, claim she wanted to see the city before her removal or find her father even. She didn't want to, she enjoyed their small exchange, but it was a distraction and she only had so much time.

“I could sponsor you.” She stared at him, mouth slightly open. They didn't know each other, there was no reason for him to. Unless he had taken her suggestion of the Honeybee as a sign she was receptive to other things. She wouldn't oppose it, he was nice enough looking, seemingly well toned for what must be a relatively sedentary lifestyle here and despite the exhausted black rings and other signs of middle age below his eyes, his face wasn't so bad. “I've need of a companion and it would give you some protection against the less savoury types of Eulmore.”

“And in exchange?” She asked. If she didn't like the terms, she could say no. If he refused to accept her answer, she didn't need weapons to defend herself, they only made things easier. What little time she had spent here had taught her that nothing was free, even the food supplement moel came with the understanding of obedience.

[wildstar25]

more thought about end of endwalker Arsay recovering from the big fight and having her hands like so completely unusable. I mean, most her body was unusable for the first two weeks; but she really did a number on her hands in that fist fight. Tbh I imagine in the desperate attempts at keeping Arsay alive on the ragnarock, they didnt really get a chance to make sure every bone was set right before blasting her with healing magicks. Once she got looked at by an actual medical professional in Old Sharlayan it was determined they'd have to re-set a lot of those joints and fractures.... painful stuff to say the least.

The healing was the hardest part. Complete lost of dexterity meant no dual wielding and no mudras for months. She started relying on her carbuncle to pick things up for her. Wrapping her hands and wearing gloves gave some support as she began what could ostensibly be called physical therapy. Lots of daily stretching to get the soft tissue and muscles back to being adventure ready, the instructions of which were sent by Alphinaud. (He would instruct her in person had he not already be off in Garlemald.) G'raha and Y'shtola would supervise and provide lots of encouragement. She'd start trying to channel aether via her mudras, only to get the form slightly off and end up with Couscous (carbuncle) on her head (I hc that instead of the rabbit for arsay specifically). G'raha would do whatever he could to lift her spirits, Y'shtola would push Arsay to keep at it.

More months pass and eventually she can cast her mudras again, and the grip on her daggers have never been stronger. Still, subtle signs of trauma are there if you look long enough. Scars on her palm and knuckles and a finger or two that is always a little bent. The hand which struck Zenos that final time looking much worse for wear than the other. She doesn't care, it's nothing a little glamouring or gloves couldn't cover. If her hands work, that's all the matters.

Tataru gets in contact with Arsay one day. She's got a new outfit, custom, made with Arsay in mind. The set included a pair of gloves: one that covered her main hand almost fully, the other composed of perfectly aligned straps of leather that supported her hand and wrist. She thanked Tataru immensely.

[sae-mian]

🖊 for M'alik and Hana. More catte facts! And tiny bun!

aaaa a twofer!!! ty for the ask!

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🖊 HANA

for the littlest bunne (coming in at a whopping 5'5''), it may be interesting to note that he is the outlier in his family! all of his immediate family members are considerably taller, even by viera standards. his mother was said to be a little over 6'10''!

🖊 M'ALIK

SUPER fun fact.

m'alik was detained, tortured, experimented on, and forced into service in Garlemald for 1606 days.

he definitely wasn't counting.

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🖊 hc/funfact/anything goes post 🖊

[kukurubean]

6.4 msq spoilers!

i am a bit disappointed that the radz-at-han i expected re: the trade relationship w garlemald is actually starting now as opposed to us making any sort of statement on a "neutral" party who has long dealed with an empire

but c'est le vie. I'm keeping my hc. the idea that radz-at-han would only expect security and ZERO goods/services in their treaty is too convenient and written entirely so they dont look bad for acting as a middleman to eorzean resources all this time. radz-at-han has had magitek and garlean knowledge 🙄

though re: garlemald getting wrapped up with this. i appreciate that they didnt let yet another "combative" area just get... immediately steamrolled by nonexhaustive evangelism when it comes to us always being Perfectly Moral and Correct. I enjoyed that the NPCs were allowed to express their fear toward the alliance. the one who immediately begged us not to say anything hit rly well

and of course all of our problems are saved by capitalism again, but at least it's with a mutually beneficial blabblahblah agreement and decidedly NOT a hidden cache of state assets we convenientally found just now and are now going to sell off to the rich (why did we let them do this twice.)

but with that said, the gaggle of politicians hiding out and sequestering themselves in a stronghold away from well. all of their constituents. is very 👀 to me but not just in a "they're bad and evil" way. I think it is interesting to see people try to maintain bureaucratic operations during disasters

[heirbane]

I'm realizing I write a lot of headcanons and ideas into long drabble posts instead of just... posting them.

So, hcs regarding the royal family I've mentioned in drabbles before:

- Varis was wed to a Garlean woman of Solus' choosing. The arrangement was made when he was still a boy and Varis' father still lived. They wed at 19. (I think this is semi-canon, but don't take my word for it.)

- Varis' wife fell pregnant within a few months of their ceremony. She first bore a daughter, one that was healthy on all medical scans, but came into the world asleep and did not awaken. A small memorial for her is hidden in one of the many palace's simulated biome greenhouses. Her name is never formally announced, and the plaque memorial simply dubs her "baby Galvus".

- His wife is with child again a few moons later. This time she bears a son, but does not live long after his birth. If there is a memorial for her, Varis has never revealed it publicly.

- While husband and wife were wed just over a full year, the compounded losses severely impacted Varis. With no supportive family of his own, he is left to raise a child that he has mixed, complicated feelings for. As a result, he doesn't raise Zenos much at all.

- Gaius, who lost his parents within a similar time frame as a child, does what he is able when he is in Garlemald. He has been afoot as Midas and his partner raise Cid, a boy a few years Zenos's senior, and is beginning to see the fallout of Garlemald's heavy-handed colonialism abroad. But he, too, is unwed, inexperienced, and emotionally stunted, as many, many men of Garlemald are. To care for his chosen brother and his chosen brother's colicy child is not something he knows how to do.

- So he doesn't. Zenos's physical care is handed over to wet nurses and tutors, and Varis is left to claw himself out of the chasm of his loss. By the time he does, he is not wholly the same man he was when he entered it, and the stage for what we know as Emperor Varis is set soon after.

[voidtouched-blue]

[ flower hc meme ] anemone, forget - me - not & zinnia

anemone :   how does your muse view the world ;   as a cruel   &   unforgiving place ,   a land full of wonders ,   or something in - between ?  where does that world view come from   (what experiences ,   life lessons ,   etc .   ) ?  

Excellent question!

Cyra sees the world as both a heartless hell and a place to be marveled at. If it weren't for the ingenuity of man, then the land would be far more peaceful than it was. From the moment she was born, she had been treated as though her very existence was a burden. Being brought into the world under a new moon (or an empty one as her tribe refers it as) has rather important social and practical implications in their society. Being born without the light of the moon meant that her role in life was useless. Her only benefit to their clan was to be sold so that the island could prosper. It's the cruelty of man that she resents, and it was only perpetuated when the Garleans spent the entirety of her life performing experiments to forge her into a weapon of their own. There were few things during her imprisonment that kept her from losing herself to the violence committed against her. One of which was the decision that she would not allow herself to be like them. She would use her hands to heal, and not to harm as the Imperials intended. Yet, even then, she still struggles with the vengeful rage built up within her as a way to protect herself. She very much struggles to try to view the world in a brighter light. After all, it's difficult to understand peace and a gentle breeze when she was born into the dark of the world.

forget - me - not :   has your muse ever forgotten something that is or was important to them ?   are they afraid of forgetting things like that ?  

There is a point in her life where she does forget the morals and values that she tries to live by. Lost in her grief after the death of a beloved friend, she ignored all else in favor of a study that would end up being a curse. She forgot the whole reason why she became a white mage in the first place. She lost her sense of belonging and purpose the moment she realized she couldn't protect her friends from death. Having few people in her life that knew about her past made her feel isolated, and without the understanding of having someone she can truly rely on, losing that one person absolutely broke her.

In another point, she is afraid of forgetting herself. She's afraid of losing herself to that wrathful anger at the world for what its done to her. That anger is only amplified by the experiments done on her by the Imperials as they wanted to tap into a rage they could control. But since she escaped before their research and testing was finished, she is an incomplete product with a delicate trigger. She's afraid of losing control and harming others, which she has absolutely done before.

zinnia :   how has the loss of fallen comrades and/or loved ones affected your muse ?   has it taught them anything or given them any new perspectives ?

I somewhat answered this in the previous one, but I'll go into more depth.

As incorrect as the lesson is, Cyra has learned that forming bonds with others will only lead to pain. It's really quite dramatic if you look at it this way, but she genuinely believes that creating friendships is a death sentence to those she comes to care for. The only two people in her life (up to the point in the story that most people choose to interact with her at) have disappeared or died. Both of which, she had what she considered a really strong connection with. They were the only two people who knew about her history with Garlemald, and they didn't pity her for the suffering she had already lived through. They encouraged healing, and provided her with that sense of security and confidence in her own abilities. They gave her the strength to push back against the fear that constantly ran through her as her own blood.

Losing them meant losing everything. She didn't care about the peaceful life she now had, or the freedom that was hard fought and earned. She didn't care about how impressive it was for her to learn not one, but three methods of healing to further secure the health and safety of her companions and any who seek her aid. Of course this is only covering the story up to Shadowbringers, and she does eventually learn Sage as well as dabbling in Alchemy only for the purpose of having a method that doesn't entirely require the use of Aether to aid others.

If anything, losing loved ones and comrades has pushed her to self-isolate more. If she can't form connections and friendships with others, then it won't hurt as much when they die or leave as fate decides. Though, this has also lead her to become close with a handful of people on accident. She craves having someone she can tell her fears to. She doesn't want to suffer through her painful memories alone. And on occasion, she's accidentally stepped out of that cold fortress only to realize she's become too close to someone. The process of building that wall back up again in itself is painful, and it leaves her conflicted. This heavy contradiction of wants versus needs in her heart and soul are what drives her actions. She wants to be comforted. She wants to be cared for. Yet, in the same strand she cannot allow it for the sake of her own sanity. The constant tug-of-war with her desires has left her rather frayed. She's more likely to lash out at people or have heavy mood-swings the longer she takes to realize that she's let someone in on her life. And then the comfort of another becomes a sword in the chest, twisted slowly the longer she takes to push them away.

Losing others has taught her that she is too weak to process the loss of that comfort. She learns that it is better to bear the pain alone, to become strong through the weight she stacks on her own shoulders, than to allow another to be crushed by the same gravity that all living things share.

Thank you so much for this! I had a blast writing it all out!

[eemamminy-art]

If you're still doing these: Fordolyse (or anything Lyse!) hc + 👻? (I am in a spooky mood and there is so much weird stuff in the Lochs :3)

hc + 👻 for a headcanon about supernatural occurrences

There is so much spooky stuff in the Lochs, I always wished they would explore that more in the game 👀 I don't feel confident enough in the lore of the Lochs or Ala Mhigo more generally to think of something related to that, but here's something!

So I like to headcanon (or maybe it's close to the actual canon in the 4.1 msq echo scenes, I'm not entirely sure if it's just my interpretation or not) that Fordola's resonant causes her echo to be basically on 24/7. She's hearing thoughts, she's seeing memories, she's just haunted by other peoples' pasts and presents and tormented by it more often than not.

With that in mind, can you imagine how often she must see Yda and Papalymo? Lyse brings them both up often, so you'd have to figure they're both at the forefront of her mind at any given time. Probably the first time she sees Yda in Lyse's memories it turns her pale white, recognizing Yda as the freedom fighter who gave her some glimmer of hope as a child before that hope was crushed yet again. She sees Yda in every possible context that Lyse ever did: all her best and worst moments, times of laughter, joy, and sorrow. Her giving speeches to Lyse to inspire her to never give up, and telling her fondly about the Ala Mhigo that once was before Garlemald invaded. Rallying Fordola from beyond the grave, just like she did all those years ago.

Likewise, Papalymo was always a stern voice of reason for Lyse, but would give her comfort when needed, too. I think the first few glimpses of him would anger her, maybe causing her to stand up and shout at the phantom, leaving Lyse totally puzzled as to who she was talking to. Over time she would see the logic in some of his lectures, how he was always the one to keep Lyse grounded and keep her from flying off the handle. Something that rubbed off on Lyse and made her a more mature and level-headed person now, recalling his words and living by his values.

Seeing the ghosts of Lyse's past helps Fordola to understand the amazing person she is now, and to recognize how much room she has to grow still herself.

Thematic headcanon ask meme

[miqomonkly]

💧 DROPLET - random angst headcanon

💗 GROWING HEART - if they have a crush, is it noticable? what changes when they're in love?

🕷️ SPIDER - what is their biggest fear? do they have any irrational / mundane fears?

Had to include the angst hc to balance the soft hc 😆

💧: Garlemald continues to annoy her. She has high hopes for the future of the nation, but recent experiences with their people continue to color her perception of them. Sure, they were a proud nation, and (through a number of factors, not least of which include Ascian intervention) grew to a rather powerful force in the world, but you would think in their darkest hour a helping hand would be something to praise, not spurn.

I'lyanna daily has to remind herself just how twisted these poor people became due to the nature of their own existence. It does little to dim the burning anger every time she and her comrades are pushed away without good reason.

��: had you asked pre-Calamity Lyanna. It certainly would be noticeable! She'd blush and stammer, denying profusely the very thought of a crush on anyone.

Post EW Lyanna, however, is far more mellow and subdued about her crushes, though only to an extent. She's far more flirty and teasing with those she's interested in, but rarely does it go beyond that. Part of this may be her still trying to cope with the one real love she had during her time... and the loss of said love.

Since then, she's been hesitant to get involved with anyone in any serious manner. As such, she claims she doesn't really know how she'd act, were she in love. "Some day..." she often muses. "Some day I may answer that question truthfully..."

🕷: Lyanna always holds an inconsolable dread that she may lose those she loves again. After losing her parents to the Calamity and Haurchefant during the events of the Vault, there is always a lingering fear that, if she isn't careful, she could lose someone else...

Aside from this, gremlins are a source of exceptional unease for her. During her time in the First, she had an encounter with a pair of gremlins who, from hiding, imitated the voices of a pair of Crystarium Guards she had been patrolling with. It has given rise to "small" trust issues whenever word of these creatures antics abound.