#I NEED TO FIGURE OUT HIS LIFE IN FFXIV I NEED TO

[sezja]

And just like that I'm back on my bullshit*

*thinking too much about Neirin

[graha-stan-account]

Things I learned from Encyclopedia Eorzea III

Do with this what you will, ffxiv fandom.

G'raha and the tower appeared about 15 years after the Flood of Light. Ardbert and team were all already dead. "Our" Minfilia had already dissipated.

At the time, he looked like his normal self. He is described as a Mystel dressed as a mage, so we can assume people knew he was a "Mystel" at the time, vs. later when his appearance is only speculative.

A bunch of refugees clamored to the Crystal Tower when it appeared. He said yeah you can hang out here, the tower defenses will keep you safe.

And then fucked off for 4 years to survey the damage of the Flood of Light.

When he got back he knew shit was really fucked and ASAP started trying to figure out how the hell to get the WoL over for pizza

At some point he figures out he needed to address the WoL verbally for some reason for the summoning to work properly???

It doesn't.

He decides this shit is gonna take 5ever and I'm already having a quarter life crisis. I'm going to bind my aether to the tower. It's the one secret anti-aging trick that has doctors PISSED

It'll be great, like, he'll almost never age.

Downside, his body slowly becomes necrotic with crystal.

More time lost because he has to use aether to discretely animate his crystallized limbs and digits to keep their use.

At some point, early Crystarium dwellers get tired of asking him for his name (he won't give it) and him rejecting the crown they offer him so they start calling him the Crystal Exarch.

Exarch says OK and wheels out some Allagan nodes to help build what would become the Crystarium. Go ham, guys.

Since no one really recalls what the Exarch looks like in present day, G'raha likely began wearing a cowl after returning from traveling Norvrandt, or when his body begins to change. Those who remember are likely dead (age or sineaters) or sworn to secrecy.

The developing crystal, which he did his best to hide, prevented him from truly connecting with the others.

Sometime after this, an infant Lyna falls into his care.

Well technically the Settlement Council (because he was like hey let's have a representative government [not because I grew up in one or anything!]! I'll just be over here.)

But he was very involved in her upbringing.

Probably because he was close friends with her parents.

Who die tragically while serving in the Crystarium guard (Meaning that the guard is at least 30 years old, likely more, as her parents were known to have served in the guard since inception basically and Lyna is 33 in SHB)

G'raha was probably in his mid-eighties at this point, judging by Lyna's age in SHB (33) and that we know G'raha had the Crystal Exarch title for 9 decades + the 24 years he had lived before he entered the tower. (He is likely slightly older due to the intervening time between being awakened in the Bad Timeline and heading to the First.)

He FINALLY gets summoning to work something like 90 years later!!!!! Except it still doesn't! Five years before he could nab the WoL, he nabbed Thancred instead (oops). It took another 2 years for it to successfully transport a soul again.

[inkblot22]

(PS I don’t actually know the source material for idia I just stumbled upon one of your fics while looking at FFXIV Yandere fics so sorry if this sounds OOC)

I’m not super creative but what do you think might actually be Idia’ routine with his darling? Does he fall into any routine, does it change a lot?

Have a wonderful day (and happy late bunny day!) 🫶

I actually am of the opinion that this is a very creative thought! You should give yourself more credit. I like to idealize the day to day life, but it never occurred to me that writing it down might be a good idea. On that sentiment, I think maybe Vil or even Leona would have a better day to day routine. Dividers by @/cafekitsune

Also, wow, what a pipeline, FFXIV to twst?? You've got good taste lmao welcome to my blog.

I'll put this under the cut, and I'm also not promising that this will be very good. I use the 24 hour clock. I am constantly getting told irl that American people don't do that, but I'm evil, so I'm putting the times in 24 hour clock format.

TW for mentions of noncon, coercion, captivity, someone keeping someone else awake, a hint of Idia being an asshole

+ Idia doesn't really seem like he has much of a set schedule, but Ortho absolutely does and Ortho is lowkey kind of bossy, so...

+ Yeah uh, Idia's partner is absolutely out of luck. Idia likes night gaming a lot, and he gets loud, so good luck sleeping. Idia himself goes to bed late and wakes up whenever the heck he wakes up. He could go to bed at 0300 in the morning and wake up again at 0700.

+ As his kept partner, the schedule is a little more normal, like I said. Ortho doesn't really need to sleep from what I understand, (I haven't read all of book 6, no spoilers or else I WILL temporarily block you) but it's silly to imagine that he doesn't wake up or attempt to wake up everyone else around him as early as 0600.

+ After waking up, Idia will eat breakfast. I think it'd be delivered usually since Idia and his partner are basement dwellers, one by nature and the other by force. After breakfast begins work...

+ Or procrastination. Idia flip flops between extreme focus on what he should be doing and what he should not be doing. He manages to get his schoolwork done, but more often than not, he's asking his partner to cuddle up and watch a movie, drama, or his fingers flying across the keyboard. Idia will not ask them to cuddle if he is doing schoolwork or virtually attending classes.

+ I like to think that he smells smoky, on account of the flaming hair, and he runs hot, so prepare to SWEAT. In the case his partner doesn't really want to hang out with him, he will usually sulk and only occasionally get upset to the point of doing something about it.

+ I don't think he showers every day. I think he's an every other day type of showerer, based solely on him not being particularly active. This means that his partner doesn't have to run on his showering schedule and gets extra hot water on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.

+ By the way, in the case that Idia's darling ever gets peckish, Idia has a snack stash that he proudly pulled out and showed them as soon as they were allowed to wander a bit. I figure they get hungry some time around 1400, especially if Idia is also eating at that time.

+ I think his metabolism is fast, but also a bit odd. He is a young person, and therefore he strikes me as the type to get randomly hungry. If asked very nicely (and with the promise of physical affection in some form) he'd be incredibly willing to make his partner something to munch on when he makes his own.

+ Despite Idia's partner being literally held captive in his room, with all his suspicious items and, worst of all, himself, Idia is about as respectful as a kidnapper can be about demanding sex. He doesn't like to be physically forceful about it, and he often will just jerk off in the bathroom.

+ The reason for this is very simple: If Ortho ever saw Idia having sex with ANYONE, Idia would spontaneously combust. Well, obviously he doesn't know that for certain, but it's a theory that he is not willing to test. He won't even talk about his preferences around his little brother.

+ As far as I'm aware, most people in captive situations do not tend to ask their kidnapper to fuck them unless they're being threatened in some way, but Idia's partner isn't typically being threatened (ignore the shock collar,) so they never ask Idia to have sex.

+ This does not stop Idia from being a whiny bitch about not having sex enough as soon as Ortho is gone for a few hours. The close quarters and sudden advent of a human being who he doesn't mind touching him is a big thing for Idia.

+ Ortho goes on "walks" in a sort of unusual schedule. That is to say that he doesn't have a schedule. If something needs to be picked up, he's tired of Idia not listening to him, he has his own stuff to do, or he just feels like it, Ortho will go out, sharing his location with Idia. From there, Idia will typically calculate how long it'd take Ortho to get back paired with whatever Ortho said he was going to do before he left, and see if he can squeeze in some coerced touching.

+ So. Good luck, Idia's partner. Idia will make a big stink until he gets bored or his partner gives in. His partner usually gives in, based on fear of what he might do alone.

+ Bedtime is somewhat randomized. If Ortho was out, when he comes back and it's any time after 2000, he will very subtly try to get Idia and his partner to start winding down. If both or one ignores him, he'll start getting upset.

+ Like I said, Ortho is kinda bossy. He will nag someone, and the worst part is that he's usually got their best interest in mind.

+On the off chance that Idia decides to go to bed at a decent time, he curls up behind his partner. He runs hot and smells smoky, and at some times it's not the worst thing. Some times.

+ By the way, a lot of this flies out the window in the event that Idia decides to attend classes in person. This is rare, so don't expect it to happen often, but it's not as good as it could be. Ortho goes with him and he locks up any way to reach the outside world, so all his partner has to entertain themselves is his manga collection, or the fun pastime of destruction of property. (This is a very bad idea, and I can expand on punishments later.)

+ In Idia's partner's case, every day is much of the same but just a little different, which makes it hard to keep track of time. The fact that Idia prefers low lighting and no natural light doesn't help this whatsoever.

[elliewiltarwyn]

FFXIV Write 2024 | #11: Surrogate

Fifth Umbral Moon, 17th Sun, 03 7AE

I’m frightened for Minfilia in a way I’ve never felt before.

She’s determined - moreso than she’s ever been in front of me. She displayed a spine of steel, refusing to back down no matter the bitter words Thancred—or I—muttered at her. Her resolve managed to impress Emet-Selch himself, though of course he delighted in spelling out the dilemma before us, just to rub in the tragedy of it all.

She’s a teenager - barely Alphinaud and Alisaie’s age. She never had the chance to live her own life; she has ever walked in the shadow of an unfathomable legacy. She’s always borne the weight of being a scion, and she never had a choice in the matter.

Except now she is choosing - to submit. To offer herself to the Minfilia, to let the self she’s never had the chance to express fade away in service of our mission - the mission of the Oracle of Light.

And it kills me, because I know why she’s devalued herself so much. It’s my fault. And Thancred’s, but—we look at this girl named Minfilia and can see naught but the Minfilia we lost. I know she’s not her. And…the very fact that she isn’t her makes me bitter.

That’s not fucking fair to her. It’s unfair to her, to Minfilia, to all the other girls in between that died in her name. And as much as it bothered me, my feelings can’t come into this.

And she needed to know that. I confronted her a few hours after we left the Ocular, found her on the balcony overlooking the Crystarium gates. I told her, in no uncertain terms, that she should not make her decision based on how Thancred and I feel about her.

“I’m not,” she replied firmly, never breaking eye contact. “I’m making my decision based on what’s best for everyone.”

“It’s not best for you.”

“And why would you care?” I’ll never forget how her voice cracked as she said it, how the tears began to well in her eyes. “I figured you’d be overjoyed to have your Minfilia back—”

Not if it means losing you.

She was stunned. I was stunned, and I said the words. But I meant it. Because if she goes along with this, it’s not what I think is best for someone I care about. For both of them.

Because yes, I loved Minfilia, with all my heart, with everything I was.

But I also care about Minfilia - the young one, the girl who never had the chance to be herself - because I’ve seen the little glimpses of herself peeking through the veil, occasionally. I’ve begun to pick up on what she likes, what frightens her, her sweet tooth, what she likes to read in her downtime. I’ve begun to see what kind of person she is within the shadow of Minfilia’s legacy, and…she’s delightful. And Thancred and I are fools for not appreciating her for who she is.

Not as a surrogate for the first of that name whom we loved. Not as a scion to a legacy she never wanted to inherit. Just a young girl - one of the bravest, most resolute, and strongest girls I’ve ever known.

I don’t want her to give herself up - even if it means seeing Minfilia again. And I hope, on some level, Thancred doesn’t want that either.

Because I know she wouldn’t have wanted that.

‘Can I actually convey even a shred of this sentiment to her?’ is a different question. I…think I did my best. I took her hand, looked her in the eye, and told her I wanted her to do what’s best for herself…because under it all, I do care for her.

(I can’t make the mistake of failing to ensure the ones I love know how I feel about them. Never again.)

She…took it well, all things considered. She said she would think about it…and thanked me. But that haunted look was still in her eye when she turned, pulled her hand out of my grasp, and walked away.

There’s still time, at least. I’ll banish that look from her eyes before we reach Nabaath Areng if it’s the last thing I do.

(I should talk to Thancred. Get that message through his thick skull. She’s even more concerned with his feelings than with mine, given how they’ve been together for years…)

[heavy-swing]

FFXIV Write 2024 - Prompt #1 - Steer

Content Warnings: None Spoiler Warnings: Possible Bozja backstory spoilers that are revealed in the Save the Queen questline (about events that happen pre-ARR), no MSQ spoilers Summary: On one side of Etheirys, what's described as a "Garlean weapons malfunction" levels a city in an instant. On the other side of Etheirys, a young Aelita Tirasch finds her world much emptier than before. Check it out on Ao3, or read below:

“Aelita, my little star, could you come inside for a moment?” Lunya called across the field. “Your father and I have something we need to talk with you about.”

Aelita looked up from the row she’d been digging and pushed her damp, messy hair out of her face. “Sure, ma.” She started walking back towards their modestly sized farmhouse, and then paused, looking down at her clothes, which were covered in dirt. “Do you want me to wash up first, or…?”

“I think it can wait.” Lunya smiled for a brief moment before turning back inside, and Aelita wasn’t far behind, catching the door with a hand before it closed. 

“So, what’s the big news?” Aelita pulled a chair away from the table where her parents sat and flipped it around, sitting with her arms folded across the top of the backrest. “It’s gotta be something important if it can pull me away from plowing.”

Her parents gave each other a long look, as if each of them were begging the other to break the growing silence. Eventually, Jaromir spoke first.

“Aelita, I… You know how we arrived here, don’t you?”

“By ship, from Bozja. You’ve both told me about it many times.” A look of confusion grew across Aelita’s face. “What’s this about, papa?”

Lunya interjected. “We’d been in contact with some of the people we used to know, before we left, and we got some… news today.” Her pleasant smile began to crumble into something more melancholy. “Something went wrong with a Garlean weapon that had been built in the city, and…”

Jaromir picked up where his wife trailed off. “It’s gone. All of it. Leveled to the ground.” Aelita could’ve sworn she heard a ‘Garlean bastards’ under his breath.

“It’s likely Queen Tira didn’t make it either, if the reports we got are to be believed,” Lunya elaborated. Aelita looked back and forth between her two parents, mind racing ahead to try and figure out the conclusion of this conversation before they could speak it aloud.

“Your mother and I have been talking, and… we’d like to go back. Both of us. Whether to offer aid, to look for survivors, to try and mount a resistance, I don’t know… and I suppose it matters little. I’ve just had this feeling ever since we left that’s gnawed at me. Like I abandoned my post.” 

To have me, Aelita thinks, completing the unspoken part of his sentence in her head.

“Queen Tira asked us to leave, to make sure you had a life to look forward to, Aelita. I hope we’ve done that so far. You’ve grown up so fast, and you’re plenty strong enough to take care of yourself now.”

Aelita jumped up from her chair when she finally realized where this was all leading.

“So, you’re leaving me behind? I could come with you! I’m strong enough to fight, you said it yourself!” Tears started to flow down her cheeks, dampening her fur. “Do you even care about me? Just listen to yourselves!”

Jaromir got up from the table and closed the distance between them, taking Aelita’s hands in his own.

“My beautiful star, it is because we care about you that we want you to stay.”

Lunya rose to stand beside her husband. “You can build a life here, you can make this place a home. We still have some sense of duty across the sea, but you have no such obligation.”

“What if something happens to you? What do I do then?”

A moment of silence fell between them, no one wanting to acknowledge the worst should it come to pass.

“You’ll just have to carry on. For both of us,” Jaromir replied, trying to keep tears out of his own eyes. “We thought it best to leave as soon as possible, given the urgency of the situation there, so…”

“Tomorrow…?” Aelita asked between sobs.

“At sunrise,” Lunya confirmed, wrapping her daughter in a hug. Jaromir was quick to join in, offering as much comfort as he could muster. 

Aelita remained silent as they cooked and ate their last meal together, unsure of whether to be angry or despondent. The three of them settled down for the night, and though she was much too large to be sharing a bed with her parents, Aelita insisted on sleeping between them, just this one time.

---

The sun peeked in through the window, an especially unwelcome annoyance. Aelita groggily opened her eyes before she snapped awake at the realization that the bed was empty. She looked around their small house in a panic, and only relaxed when she found both of her parents busy packing their things. 

Her mother noticed and walked over to the bed. “Good morning, my little star. Worry not, we wouldn’t leave without waking you.”

Aelita wordlessly slid to the edge of the bed and padded over to her dresser. She grabbed a comfortable shirt and a pair of coveralls that she usually took fishing out of a drawer and quickly threw them on, as if worried that her parents would disappear without her noticing.

The snap of closures on leather travel bags pierced the silence, signaling an impending departure. 

“Lunya, I think I’m all ready here.”

“Then come over here for a moment.”

Aelita turned from her dresser to face both her parents, who were dressed for a long voyage. Jaromir spoke first.

“Aelita, I… I’m sorry that this is the way things had to be. It is my hope that maybe someday you can understand and maybe forgive me, but I can hardly resent you if you don’t.” His little speech was interrupted by sniffling; unwelcome tears already returning to Aelita’s eyes. “I want to promise that we’ll return to you someday, with glad news of what Bozja has become, but I don’t want to make a promise I can’t keep.” She buried her face in his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her as he’d done hundreds of times before. “I know you’ll be strong for us, my brilliant star.”

After a while, Jaromir released his hug, and it was Lunya’s turn to speak. “Oh, Aelita… Just know that no matter what happens, no matter where we are, we are always thinking of you. There are people here who you can lean on, if you need, and I hope you don’t forget that.” Lunya embraced her daughter, holding her even more tightly than Jaromir had. “Take care of yourself, my little star.”

Jaromir turned to start gathering bags from the floor, and Lunya took that as a signal to let Aelita go, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead before she backed away.

Bags were exchanged between them until the loads were about even, and then, before Aelita could even comprehend it, they had said their last goodbyes and walked through the front door. The bang it made when it hit the frame was the only thing that shook Aelita out of the haze of disbelief she’d found herself in.

Aelita lingered around the house for a while, unsure of what to do with herself. The space already felt so foreign, so empty without her parents there. She began subconsciously scanning the house as if looking for an escape route, and after eyes fell on her fishing rod and tackle, she realized she’d found one. She quickly shoved the tackle boxes in the pockets of her coveralls and grabbed her fishing rod before making a beeline for the front door.

Aelita walked down the coastline with her rod against her shoulder, taking focused strides towards the drydocks on the far side of Moraby Bay. She knew there was someone who lived near her parents’ house that kept a small fishing boat at one of the docks, it was just a matter of finding him. After a fruitless search at the shipyard, she spotted him at Candlekeep Quay, just tying off the little dinghy. 

“Raffe!” she yelled as she ran down the pier to meet him.

The hyuran man looked up in surprise, then smiled when he saw who it was. “Ay-lita! What brings you my way? Come to borrow the boat again?”

“It’s like you can read my mind,” Aelita replied with a laugh, fishing in her pockets for her coinpurse. “How much if I took it for the rest of the morning?”

It was his turn to laugh. “Just bring it back in one piece and we’re square.” He eyed the rod that occupied her shoulder. “And let me have a bite of anything half-decent you catch!”

“Sounds like a deal to me.” She climbed past him with a smile, setting her rod down in the bottom of the boat.

“Currents are a bit strange this morning, though, so beware o’ that,” he said, standing on the pier where she’d been only a moment ago. She nodded, picking up the oars.

“I’ll be careful, then.”

With that, she began to row out onto the open sea.

After she’d cleared the pier and waved goodbye to Raffe, she closed her eyes, trying to focus on anything else except her parents. She honed in on the motion of the oars, the sound of the water against the boat, the salty taste of the spray on her tongue. She heard calls of distant seabirds and chose to let those guide her. There were days for steering deliberately to a destination, but today wasn’t one of them. 

Aelita rowed and rowed, until her shoulders ached, until the feeling of the wood in her hands was all she could think about. 

It was then she opened her eyes.

And before her, as if by magic, appeared a large ship, one clearly built for crossing the great oceans of the star. And standing on the top deck she spotted two silhouettes that she knew could only be her parents. She knew the distance was too great to call out to them, but she stood up and waved her arms overhead, hoping they might notice. It took a couple minutes, but eventually she saw the figures wave back, and the tears from earlier that morning came flooding back, too.

Aelita stood a while longer and watched as the ship shrunk into the distance and disappeared over the horizon. The tears eventually slowed, and she wiped her eyes with her sleeve, trying her best to take deep breaths as she did. Once she felt calm, she bent down into the boat to retrieve her rod, turned 180 degrees from where the ship had been, attached a bit of bait to the line, and cast out into the sea. 

Aelita didn’t know if she could truly do it alone, like her parents had said, but she was resolved to catch some dinner, at the very least.

[beanmom-blogs]

FFXIV Write 2024 Prompt#6 : Halcyon

How did one woman, so small of stature, end up commanding an entire room? It was one of life’s greatest mysteries in this time, in this age, before the Dragonsong War.

As it had happened now twice and would happen again and again and again for perhaps not infinity but certainly centuries to come, Gilibeiraut was only a name of the past with whom stories had been told. Carefully crafted stories, starting with the person and name of Lord Gabienaut de Remedoix that grew deeper roots in the past. The man with whom previously bore those names was now Lord Rousellmont de Remedoix, Son of Lord Gilibeiraut and Lady Genevie, Tinkerer and Seamstress respectfully and what equated to a power couple with whom every ball they attended brought all eyes to them and their dance.

In the here and the now, with Gilibeiraut being Rousellmont, he was without a dance partner. The tall Elezen was used to being the one every eye was drawn to, and this tiny woman, this little sliver of female persuasion, was the one who held that figurative crown and throne. Almost literally. It was a nameday party for Rousellmont’s neighbor, Lord Evynnoix de Dannienscen, consisting of unattached men and women with the only instruct on the invitation to ‘wear a silly hat’. The slender sophisticate catching everyone’s eye had chosen a bejeweled tiara that fit just so in the massive updo that her hair currently boasted. She sat, propped on an arm of a sofa, five men congregating around her. One wore a brown bowler with a large plume stuck in it that made his height with feather included stand ever higher than any others. Lord Evynnoix himself had gone so far as to wear a half-mask, some sort of horned brown and black avian. Another of those crowding around her had a pillar of a top-hat with a brightly coloured scarf wrapped around base, while the last two appeared to have forgotten the assignment.

Rousellmont, no doubt, bore the most flamboyant hat of them all. Borrowed from his ‘father’ the renowed dancer, it was a deep purple fedora wrapped with a white lace hat band his ‘mother’ had hand-stitched, slender ribbons coming off a cinched bow near the rear that spilled down his back and settled against the length of his hair. Clearly from a costume, fascinating enough that Miss Queen took enough of a pause in the tale she was regaling in order to give him a look over before launching back into the next story. He settled into a spot near the other arm of the sofa. Nearby and listening while also watching the remaining throng of people.

The crowd waned and waxed, some glancing at the sight of the slender sophisticate propped on her throne with the gaggle of admirers around, most at least stopping in their dancing or their mingling to gawk at the tiny lady in the sparkling dress and tiara. Rousellmont merely continued his own vigil.

“…..and then, what should mine eyes behold, there amongst the green of my yard but a baby yak!” The Lady exclaimed. The nearby men all laughed to some degree, Rousellmont merely giving a glance. One of the unadorned heads had heaved such a raucous laugh that he ended up in a coughing fit and had to excuse himself. To which she retorted at his retreating back, “Best go get yourself some yak milk, that should help!” Sending the men all into more peals of laugher, save for Rousellmont. Just a soft shake of his head and then back to his self-inflicted duty. Or he would have been, had she not taken the time to call him out too.

“You. There. Sitting on the end. De Remedoix is it? You seem not entertained by mine recollection.”

His eyes met with hers, his head tilting enough to tap the fedora down in a sign of respect. “On the contrary, I am. Quite so. But I see no need to over exaggerate laughter in a simple attempt of getting within your good graces My Lady.”

She smiled though both her eyebrows rose. Something about her eyes launched into a sparkling, mischievous mein. “Oh? Then a query if I may. Were you to make such an attempt at getting within good graces with the lowly and humble being that is me, what sort of tactic might you… indulge of?”

All the men currently fawning over her were staring at him now, some in disbelief that he, one who had seemingly been paying little attention to her and was not worshiping her every word, was the one she appeared most enthralled by. Evynnoix even gave a small snort. “My Lady!” The bird-masked man began, “Why turn of your attentions to one with whom pays you none of their own, when we, here, offer our due respects! Your tales are divine, and you are most ravishing in the splendor of your gown.” The three remaining men all nodded their agreement, each adding a few words to bolster those of Lord Evynnoix.

The Lady, as Rousellmont had discovered was one Malrie Feaugard, rose up a hand to silence their chatter. The motion sent a curl of de Remedoix’s mouth on one side, subtly amused. “I wish to hear what the Lord has to say. If such were not the case, I would not have asked it of him.”

The grumbling mass kept their voices low, two of them now staring with a near anger toward Rousellmont, while Evynnoix and the wearer of the bowler peered at each other knowingly. Rousellmont merely tilted his head, as if he were thinking on the matter. The truth of it was that he was not, and the answer came two heartbeats later.

“I wouldn’t. Indulge of my tactics, that is.” What had just been a slight curl now turned into quite a larger smile as his eyes grazed over the remaining men. “I beg of the rest of you, please do continue enjoying Lady Malrie’s accounts of her halcyon years.” A flicker of those eyes to catch and meet with hers once more. “And may you continue to live them.” Then a tip of his fedora as he stood off the armrest, preparing to turn. “Good day to you all.” He let his feet glide his step away from the setting, not daring to look back and see whether his tactic worked, or if it had failed. He would find out soon enough in the days to come.

[starres-stuff]

Day 3- Tempest FFXIV Write 2024

Tempest: to raise a tempest in or around

CW/TW: Dark Themes, Mature Themes, Hints at Abusive Upbringing.

Long before Vi and Dimitri another story existed, the story of their Mother; Saphelle Jienuex. 

“What will you do to suffer no more? Will you plead with the Dragons to eat them? Will you hire thugs to kill them in the streets or will you submit to me, girl?” Hers was always a cruel and scathing voice when she spoke. The distant specter of the void hungered for another of the Jienuex line to pay her price and step into her trap. Saphelle had noted that she had tripled her visits in recent weeks, her whispers far more tangible than normal. 

“Are you done yet?” the young Elezen asked from the shadows she brooded in, lavender eyes lingering on what appeared to be the shapely figure of a woman cast upon her wall. “We have gone through this nightly Numeria Ichatan” 

A low hiss was her reply and long; needle-like claws moved towards her across her wall, their intention to siphon some of her Aether to remind her of her place but they never did reach her, trying as she might. The girl seemed to be shielded by a powerful ward that a simple voidsent could not break through. 

“My name is not yours to use, girl.” The voice called back, a screeching sound coming from the wall, always dramatic this one was; hells bent on getting her own way. 

“I will use whatever I please.” Saphelle was in no mood for parlor tricks or over-dramatic theatrics. She had sought her darkness to tend to the wounds left behind by a drunken Father who did not know how to keep his hands to himself and needed them broken finger by finger to learn a lesson. He was not the only one either, the cruel gaze of her Mother as she watched him dish out his punishment. “He is sick Saphelle” the spineless creature would whisper later when they were alone, trying to make up for the things that had happened. This was her every night, some macabre play she had been birthed into one moonless night.

“Say yes and it will all be over.” The whisper teased again, there was nothing she wanted more than for it to be over. Soon to be twenty-one and not promised for marriage as any other Ishgardian noble daughter her age would have been. There had been other unfortunate things like this in her young life. No debutante ball, no sweet sixteen, and certainly no entertaining suitors come to ask for her hand.

“And what will you take from me in return to solve my problems Numeria Ichatan?” her, own, cruel smile appeared as she said the name again, a name she had found scrawled into the journal of her ancestors Neophinne the Scholar, her Mhachi ancestors who had been summoner, handler, and lover to the creature that followed her. 

“Nothing now, only after your death. I would claim your name and body as my own. I would live out your days as I lived our Neophinne’s, as I saw fit. In return, I will leave them as empty husk devoid of Aether, a fitting end for what they have offered you.”

Ah, the feelings that rose in Saphelle as she listened, the cold smile devoid or emotion that curled on her lips, as lost herself in the thoughts of all of this being hers. Oh, the sweet notes of revenge that hummed in her ears now. As much as she hated to admit it, the Voidsents price was small for something that would put her plan into motion. 

“You win. I will take your bargain.” Saphelle returned her attention to the wounds on her arms and stomach, a cotton ball dabbing at the lash marks from her Father's whip with a very sterile astringent that her Mother made to care for things such as this. 

“We have an oath then? Do you consent to the pact? Their death and your freedom for the right to claim your body when your soul goes on to the Sea?” The shadows moved and the form of a succubus emerged from them, gliding across the floor without her feet touching as if she was some twisted angel here to be the benevolent savior of the young woman. 

“I agree to your terms.” A slim hand rose, garnets glittering across her pale skin on golden bands “I would like it to be my Birthday present, we will be attending the theater as we always do to celebrate. When it is over we will emerge in the right alleyway from our private box. I expect them not to emerge from the alley.” 

The succubus took her hand turning it over and taking one of her claws to etch a symbol into the skin when completed the symbol glowed with the power of the void and a pair of grotesque lips touched hers, they felt like old parchment dry and ready to decay. 

“An exchange of Aether to seal the pact.” Saphelle's eyes grew wide as she felt her breath sucked out of her lungs, leaving her to gasp for air and then seconds later the voidsent breathed into her an old air that tasted like decay, causing the young woman to shudder in disgust. 

“Three days count them and I will be at your side” Her presence faded then leaving Saphelle alone in the darkness, her empty eyes filled with a vivid ruby light and her emotionless smile became a beacon of hope in the dismal gray. 

 “Happy Birthday to me.”  A short laugh burst forth from her lips into the room, the echo of it ominous and foreboding. She knew well the tempest that she had released that night, the creeping death that would set right all she had endured to this point. It would be a chaotic storm, but she would see the other side. 

[candycryptids]

Good morning (or good evening in your case I guess)! 🤭

Because you asked me about the theme songs: If you had to choose one for each of your OCs what would it be?

Goooood Morning! Or evening for you by now I think 🤔🥰 This’ll be easier for some than others B’3 (links will all be to YouTube videos hopefully!) thank you for the question this was a real thinker x3

So Levraut actually has a song we recently heard and went HOLY SHIT ITS LEV’S THEMESONG! Which would be [Creator, by Lena Raine] it has the mysterious suspense of the music box at the start, and then shifts into the cadence of something I associate with the Sea, which is something that sounds like Accordion ahaha (and then it further intensified with electric guitar, which isn’t usually in his soundscape, but it’s So Good)

[cut because… length again LOL]

For Tuesday I’d have to say my first choice is [Hello World, by Louie Zong] as far as songs that make me immediately associate with Tuesday lololol. The other song I have is [Waltz No. 2, Robot, by Hikaru Shirosu] it has, to me, the cadence of going shopping in a small market, but you’re still very ‘young’ in a sense, and small obstacles can feel like big obstacles 🫢 it’s also Piano, which is one of the instruments associated with Keathan! Who has a very heavy influence on Tuesday’s soundscape :3

For Chuusday…. Picking just one is rly hard… hm… it’s not on EITHER of her playlists I think, but [Home Beyond The Horizon by I think Masoyashi Soken and Daiki Ishikawa] Which is a song played on a crunchy, tinny radio. She’s not patriotic, but it was too large a part of her life for it to not have had some major impacts on her, lol. For a less/more serious song (???) I’d say [Hardware Store by Weird Al Yankovic]. It’s got. The vibe. LMAO.

Tangy is also hard to pin down, but I think [Fell In Love With A Girl, by White Stripes] does a pretty good job of suiting both the vibe and at least a Lil Bit the lyrics [because the first three lines remind me of Minfilia and Tangy :/ not that I ship them explicit romantic 100% of the time, but it coulda been. It coulda.]

🎤Fell in love with a girl

I fell in love once and almost completely

She's in love with the world🎵

Otherwise my other offering is When You Look At Her and it’s just playing [Cat Cafe by Tsundere Twintails] in her whole expression.

There’s not a particular song I can think of for Mochiie yet- I’ve been fighting that gorilla for a month or so now and I’m not much closer to victory yet, lmfao. However I do offer the song from [this post] because it reminds me Thavnair, so the real answer is I have a lot of music in Urdu I need to listen to and figure out his vibe LOL. I found the song in particular after scouring the notes though! Which is ->[Mehndi Laga Ke Rhakna, sung by Lata Mangeshkar and Udit Narayan] (I also need to figure out the influence the Azim Steppe had on him 🫢)

Ishi’li is… tricky. Cos I’m also still working on their playlist BDJDNFJDJFSK and the one song I’ve heard recently that made me think of him so so hard isn’t in the soundscape I’d set for them :T but. It’s rly Ishi.

[Like or Like Like by Miniature Tigers]

🎤I watched you get undressed

I must have turned bright red

'Cause I couldn't stand to face you

'Cause I liked what I saw

And maybe we should just be friends

Tell me how you feel about me

Do you like or like, like me?

Tell me what you really feel

Do you like me? Just say you do🎵

Swydghem actually has songs because I listened to a playlist on basically endless loop while writing so even though it’s Baldurs Gate [Down By The River composed by Borislav Slavov] always makes me think of her LOL… Solkmyna gets slightly more associated with [How The Tide Rushes In by Anne Dudley] Jojoha doesn’t have a particular soundscape yet because it overlaps with Levraut regularly😅 (at least in terms of; the Dreadnaughts, which is one of the bands I listen to for him lmao.)

Colette is my monster hunter/Ffxiv cross oc and while I haven’t really given her a whole lotta thought I think [I Want It All by Arctic Monkeys] could definitely fit her vibe, lol. She’s someone else on my to-do for music thoughts, just a little further down the line from Ishi and Mochi uvu;

Bonus!!! If you were wondering [Love Like You from Steven Universe] makes me think of Tuesday/Haurchefant. :’)

I hope you enjoy the music 🫶 lord knows there’s a bunch of it SHFJRJFEKCKSKXKA hopefully the color/bolding isn’t obnoxious, it makes it easier for my eyes to not glaze over if there’s variation lmao

[blucifer08]

rambling about my personal life (positive)

I moved in with my boyfriend in December and every single day I am reminded why I am incredibly lucky to have him. He makes every moment of my life better. He is the most patient and kind person on this planet and I consider myself so lucky to get to be his partner.

I've been going through some mental health issus and lots of really bad mood swings, which isn't uncommon for me, but things at work have been ramping my anxiety and when my anxiety gets bad it seems like the rest of my mental health comes falling like a bunch of dominos knocking into each other. And yet his patience is damn near unending.

I couldn't figure out what I wanted to eat the other day, I just laid in bed and cried and clung to him. We were having a 'fend for yourself' kind of dinner night and for some reason I just had a bit of a mental block and couldn't actually get up and prepare the food, everytime I thought about it I just started freaking out. Couldn't figure out what to eat, despite having plenty of food. And so he hugged me and he kissed me and he got up and he made me something to eat and made sure I ate dessert as well

I am not an easy person to handle emotionally. I have meltdowns often, especially because i have sound sensory issues. Sometimes I get stuck in my brain and relive really traumatic memories from my childhood, and I get stuck for hours paralyzed in fear from things from long ago. And no matter what it is, no matter what's bothering me, he responds with the most pure and gentle kindness I've seen from another human being.

I really just hope I can be somewhat like that for him. I want to make his life as good as possible. I love him so much.

I really, genuinely thought myself incapable of this kind of love. We've known each for many years and we played FFXIV together, and it took until last year for me to become okay with the idea of being romantic with him. What a shame, because i love nothing more in this world than loving him and being loved by him.

I've often found myself repulsed by the idea of love, repulsed by being physically close to other people. It's so strange now, to be filled with such an overwhelming love for someone. And I'm beyond happy that it is him with whom I share love. I adore his curly hair, his stupid shit-eating grin when he's said something dumb as fuck, his eyes, his eyelashes, his eyebrows, his jaw, his hands, the way his voice sounds when he's sleepy, the way he needs to watch youtube when he cooks dinner, the way he bags groceries very specificaly and CLEARLY doesn't like the way i do it lol

I love when we're out and about and he knows the moment I'm starting to get overstimulated. He knows me so well. Last week he came to me and said, "Hey, I hope this is okay but I was offered for us to go to [place that is very nice!] but I figured since we were there last week and you're pretty exhausted, you wouldn't wanna go, so i said no." And he was 100 percent absolutely fucking right. "I figured you'd wanna spend the weekend relaxing around the house." DING DING DING! He knows me so well.

It's so beautiful to love someone like this. I've never felt this way about another person.

He is just so, so, so kind. And understanding. He loves Naru and Erasmia and he encourages me to write and draw whatever I'd like to my heart's content, he encourages me to gpose, even though none of that is anything he's ever done or generally has interest in. He loves my art. He loves me for me. He loves my flaws. He loves me for my flaws, not in spite of them.

He loves me, even when I'm suffering from sensory issues and just curled into a ball covering my face and wishing all sound and light would disappear. He loves me when I'm sobbing and can't tell why. He loves me when I've sunken into old memories and can't find my way out. He loves me when I'm paralyzed in anxiety over something that I should be able to do easily.

I have no clue what it is I did to deserve this man's love but I thank my lucky stars I have him every day when I wake up and see him beside me

[autumnslance]

FFXIV Write 2023 Day 18: Fish Out of Water

G’raha took a deep breath before stepping through the door leading from the corridor into the common room of the Rising Stones.

An elderly elf—no, elezen—sat at the nearest table, steaming mug of tea at hand, speaking with a younger elezen woman. The latter G’raha recognized as one of the healers who had helped tend to him and the other Scions; Alianne, her name was. The old man must be the grandfather she had mentioned.

“Finally up and about?” the old man said warmly.

“Yes, thanks to the Scions’ cadre of healers,” G’raha replied, bowing slightly to Alianne.

He couldn’t for the life of him remember what she had said her grandfather’s name was.

“Just be sure not to push yourself too quickly, Archon,” Alianne said.

He took a moment, then smiled sheepishly, rubbing his neck and nodding. “Of course!” The marks had been covered for so long, and no one had known that title in the First; he’d nearly forgotten what it was like to be addressed as such.

A clatter of activity came from the front door, a quintet making their way in; two gald—roegadyn men, an elezen man, two Hyuran women. The redhead was grousing at the blonde, who rolled her eyes, before focusing in on G’raha.

“Well! Our new arrival’s up and about!”

Her companions looked his way as well, and he felt very on the spot. The redhead—Clemence, one of the healers—smiled. “Krile said you were well enough now.”

“Welcome!” the roegadyn in mage’s robes said, beaming. “Always nice to meet a new comrade.”

Comrade. Was he? G’raha smiled politely as Clemence made introductions (he would have to ask her about Alianne’s grandfather, discreetly, later), and pondered that implication.

Did the others actually want him to stay? Now that all in the First was complete and they were home, would the sins he had committed as the Crystal Exarch cause conflict?

And there were the memories of his younger self, of his comrades in the remaining Students of Baldesion, the Sons of St Coinach, of NOAH, which in turn led him to recall the Garlond Ironworks. Memories that conflicted with his elder self, and the difficulty of remembering the original Biggs’ face, versus that of his descendant in that other timeline.

After a round of introductions, where he managed to avoid saying much of himself, he took a seat at the bar, where a miqo’te woman stepped up and smiled. “Feeling overwhelmed?”

“Just a bit,” he admitted. “I’m sorry, I am G’raha Tia.”

She smiled. “F’lhaminn Qesh,” she replied.

Minfilia’s adoptive mother! The fabled Songstress of Ul’dah herself. Once again, the historian in him thrilled, reminded that he walked among those who in a later time would be considered legends.

And he was simply…G’raha Tia.

“You’ve had a long recovery, and will need yet more time. Think you can handle a traditional Ul’dahn lunch?” F’lhaminn asked warmly.

G’raha nodded, uncertain how to feel at being waited on by a woman who in so many stories was held in the sort of reverence granted to the parents of sainted figures such as the Oracle of Light.

Except Minfilia was not the Oracle in this world; she was the Antecedent, if no less important for her work in founding the Scions.

“There you are,” a blessedly familiar voice said.

G’raha turned and smiled gratefully as Krile joined him. “And how are you feeling?” she asked.

“Better, and hopefully a meal will only improve things.”

“Good; you’re looking a little pale yet.” She tilted her head, watching him. “Or is that the general feeling of being overwhelmed?”

She always had been too perceptive; knowing now that she possessed the Echo, and how sensitive hers was, that made far more sense. “A bit of both, I think,” he answered honestly. “A part of me still feels as though I walk among legends, especially now that I am…myself, again.”

Not that he ever truly would be; the consequences of merging his timelines into one self was going to be an ongoing process, he suspected.

Krile smiled. “Says the former Crystal Exarch,” she teased. “From all I hear, you have accomplished your own share of extraordinary feats, old friend.”

When not stumbling through the process every step of the way. What he wouldn’t give for Y’shtola’s calm confidence, or Thancred’s steadfast bravery, or Urianger’s clever dedications. And then of course, there was their champion…

To Krile, he merely shrugged and smiled sheepishly again. “I did what I could,” G’raha said. “But that time is past, and now I must find my way in this new future.”

“You will,” she said warmly, reaching over to pat his hand. “And we’ll be here to help, every step of the way.”

“Truly?” he couldn’t help but ask quietly.

“Of course!” she replied, beaming. It was familiar and comforting, reminding him of youthful times and old dreams shared in too late conversations.

Perhaps some things had not changed. Perhaps he had an anchor after all, to help him navigate this new, uncharted course his continuing life had taken.

F’lhaminn set down meals for them both, delighting Krile, the two women falling into easy conversation.

G’raha picked up his fork, content to listen, and settle in.

[sunkeeperxiv]

FFXIV Write 13 - Butte

Timeline/spoilers: Pre-ARR, in a Stormblood location

Khayta is new to Gyr Abania. And Seeker tribes and customs. And excessive hiking, and uniforms, and heat, and--

It had taken a full day’s travel, but finally, the soldier Khayta was accompanying pointed up, toward a gap in the cliffs they were hiding under, and pointed to a tall, narrow rock formation in the distance.

“There,” she said, her own relief at the sight reflected in the way her ears pricked forward. “That’s the M tribe’s home. We’ll be there before nightfall, if we don’t get held up by any more patrols.” Khayta stared up at the butte, trying to discern any signs of life up there. There was maybe a small column of smoke rising from the top, but otherwise it looked like any other rock formation. It was surprising to think there was a whole seeker tribe atop it. It was a good, secluded, defensible spot.

The soldier - J’raylia - didn’t pause for long. After only a moment’s admiration, she was off again, keeping to the shadow of the cliff face, ears swiveling back and forth once again. Khayta took a deep breath, tried to ignore how dry her mouth was, and followed. The sight of their destination had given her something of a second wind. Her feet still ached, and under the uniform the Resistance had given her she felt as if she was melting, but she felt as if she could make it.

Now, though, the worry she’d been tamping down surfaced with new vigor. She forced herself to speed up until she was right behind J’raylia - if there was a time to ask questions, it was now. “When we get there, if there anything I need to know? Anything I should do?”

J’raylia shot her a confused look. “Just be respectful? The M tribe’s not really all that special, all in all.” She made a noncommittal gesture with her hand. “Act the way you’d want a visitor to your tribe to act.”

“We don’t— I’ve never visited a Seeker tribe before. I grew up in my mother’s homestead, not a tribe.”

J’raylia hummed and paused. “Thought I heard you were trying to return to yours, though?”

Khayta nodded. “Sort of? I want to find my da’s tribe, but I’ve never been there. I only remember his stories about it.” They came to a gap in the cliffs, and paused their conversation, silently and carefully crossing the open ground.

J’raylia had her advice ready when Khayta caught up. “The M tribe hasn’t had much in the way of trade lately, so the majority of the members are hunters. Don’t assume or imply those who are merchants or crafters are less important or capable than the hunters, though. Times like these, merchant's work is more dangerous than hunting is. Their Nuhn is M’rahz, he’s a decent sort. Has been for years and years.”

“The Nuhn is the leader, right?” The Nuhn of the X tribe had been a recurring, if mysterious, authority figure in many of her father’s stories.

“Not always,” J’raylia replied. “For the M tribe, though, yeah. The Nuhn is the tribe’s father, and since only the best Tias can become Nuhns, they command a certain amount of respect. Your da would’ve been a Nuhn, I’m guessing.”

“He— no, he wasn’t. His name was X’khleti Tia.”

That got J’raylia to turn around and fix Khayta with an appraising stare. “Tias are tias because they ain’t fit to sire kits,” she said, after a long pause. “If they were, they’d become Nuhns.”

Khayta might have felt like a pile of sweat, mush and aches being held together by the buckles on her jerkin, but she knew an insult when she heard one. She flattened her ears, back and out. “Me mother and Menphina decided differently. Whose judgment are you insultin’, of the two?”

J’raylia’s ears twitched, then laid back and down in response. “No-one’s! I’m sure— I suppose it works different, for those who leave their tribes. …Or grow up outside them. Can’t challenge t’be Nuhn if there isn’t one around.” It wasn’t exactly an apology, but J’raylia had already spun around and continued down the trail, and Khayta practically had to trot to keep up. It seemed J'raylia had no interest in continuing the conversation. It was an acceptable enough resolution for Khayta, focused as she was on putting one foot in front of the other.

She supposed it would probably be best to keep that piece of personal trivia close to her chest in the future, though.

[redmoonwanderer]

FFXIV Write 2024, Day 5 Prompt: Stamp

The familiar, if not somewhat overwhelming chatter fills Qhol’a’s ears as the teleportation magic brings him by the crystal in Limsa Lominsa. The beloved meeting place is bustling with life though it’s already quite late, but perhaps many are drawn here by the musical performance taking place near the entrance to the Hawkers’ Alley. Qhol’a, too, considers for a moment to join the spectators, but a familiar voice from behind gives him the feeling he might not get the chance, tonight.

“Oh, what a relief you’re here, kupo!” Deputy Postmoogle flies towards him in such a rush Qhol’a for a moment thinks he’s going to hit him square in the chest. He stops just short of him, flying up and down under the weight of his bag. “You’re just the letter carrier I wanted to see! You see, it seems we have a letter we cannot deliver. Not for the lack of trying, but it is quite difficult to deliver something with no address on it.”

...Qhol’a feels the deep sigh but suppresses it. He knows what’s coming, but doesn’t stop the moogle from speaking.

“You have proven to be rather skilled at figuring out everything that needs figuring out, so if you could find out who sent this and ask them where they want this delivered.”

He takes out an envelope from his bag and hands it to Qhol’a, who takes it in hand. The only thing on it is a stamp which looks like a silhouette of a lighthouse against a starry sky. The silhouette, he realises, is familiar.

“I hope I can count on you, my dear pupil,” the moogle says, and receives in reply the customary nod. Deputy Postmoogle would likely spin around in the air if not for the bag, but he radiates the content moogle energy enough that Qhol’a knows he is, indeed, thankful for the help.

It’s a wild guess, but Qhol’a gets the feeling he has better luck in the settlements outside the city, somewhere by the coast. As he walks on the bridge towards the main island, he thinks about the silhouette on the stamp and tries to remember where he’s seen it before. He thinks northward, somewhere on he Western La Noscea.

Once he’s left the city behind, he calls out Incitatio. The purple-feathered bird lets out an excited screech that would probably scare the nearby lost lambs if they weren’t already used to all sorts of noises near them.

He hops on, and the chocobo takes to the skies, no signs that he would rather be sleeping at this hour.

They follow the coastline until they arrive to the western parts of La Noscea. When he sees the Isle of Umbra in the distance, and the massive lighthouse on it, he knows he’s on the right track. It quickly begins to feel otherwise when asking around, no one admits to sending any letters, address or no. One person knows to direct him on a small island where there lives an old lady who hardly ever comes over the water, these days. “We take to ‘er what she needs, when we pass by,” the heavy-set sailor tells him.

Well, that’s as good a lead as any, Qhol’a thinks and follows the directions over water.

The island seems peaceful: covered in grass and flowers, the hill leads upwards where the land would be safe even on high tide and storms. Qhol’a dismounts and follows the path on foot, Incitatio following close behind. On top of the hill is a simple cottage, and whoever lives there seems to still be awake, going by the smoke coming from the chimney and the candles burning by the window.

He knocks on the door and waits. He hears the slow steps within, and when the door opens, sees an old hyur woman, hair white and posture bent as she leans on her cane. “How may I help you?” she asks as she looks him over. “Lost, perhaps?”

Qhol’a shakes his head and takes out the envelope to show it to her. Her expression brightens. “Oooh, you found it!” she says as she takes the envelope to look at it closer. “I though I had lost it.” Her eyes glint a little, and the smile on her face seems glued on when she gestures for Qhol’a to come in. He figures he has no reason to refuse, and nor does he refuse the offered seat. The tea he does pass, and the woman sits down.

“I wrote this to my grandson, you see. It might seem an odd habit, he passed away a long time ago, you see. He was a sailor, followed his mother’s footsteps to the sea. His ship never returned from one of those trips, so I took to writing him to let him know I’m alright. At first I liked to think he was perhaps stuck on an island out there somewhere after a storm, or pirates, and that my messages in a bottle would find him. But I think the sea took him, swallowed him whole. Now, I only write him on his birthdays, burn the letters so that they might find him in the afterlife. I don’t know how the letter got lost, but I thank you for bringing it back.”

Qhol’a has an idea: an open window, and an overly enthusiastic postmoogle that didn’t stop to see if there was an address with the stamp… He tilts his head and points at the stamp in question, and the old woman chuckles. “Oh, this? He used to collect them, so I thought it would make him happy to continue his collection in death.”

Qhol’a can’t help a smile of his own. The woman shares more stories of his grandson, and her children, and Qhol’a gets the feeling she’s lonely, out here. When he’s leaving, she thanks him for the company, which tells him he might’ve been right about that. “You’re welcome to drop by whenever. I’ll make sure to tell about you to him, next year,” she says and bids him farewell.

Qhol’a waves to her before climbing on Incitatio and heading back towards Limsa Lominsa, where one postmoogle would be happy that another delivery problem had been sorted out, and with little drama, too. Though, Qhol’a thinks, it’s possible some postmoogle out there might get a bit of an earful.

But he still likes to think that this particular story, at least, has a happy ending.

[fumikomiyasaki]

Our discord server got me all wrapped up in an FFXIV Au where I already drew some designs to it once and I first didn't want to get too invested but... then I met Erenville got obsessed and now bunny boy didn't want to leave my head... might share a fanfic I wrote about him and Carol too... I just fell in love developing them and got attached... I still gave some food for the other Twisted wonderland oc ships with Yuzuha and Henry too...

And I also do have a bio for her:

Carol Ann

-Wildwood Elezen 

-Born in Gridania, lives in Limsa

-Arcanist later Summoner

-197 cm

-Sexuality: Straight

-Family: Father died long time ago, Mother works in a simple medicine shop

Born a curious one Carol was always interested in gathering as much Knowledge as she can and helping where she can. Even as a kid she learned early from her mother how to craft potions and random medicine instead… living the simple life with a deep interest that developed in the Primals after hearing stories Myths and finding more books, Ifrit being the one getting her curiosity the most. Her father too was a great warrior who however died on his way to meet the primal Garuda. She wanted to one day meet each of the primals herself…not only because of this incident… to figure out what happened to him, but also because of her own fascination. However even if she had a pretty common life things weren’t as easy as she thought… Her mothers shop was popular in town, yet many travelers and residents took interest in Carol in a romantic way… to the point she often had to work out strategies to not be bothered during work and get to deliver the medicine on time… it earned her a bit of a resentment towards strangers wanting to accompany her to protect her… she wanted to be able to protect herself… not needing help from strangers.  One day her mother came to her, talking with her eye to eye because she didn’t want Carol to wilt away in her shop and never fulfill her thirst for knowledge as well as her dreams of meeting the primals…She wanted her to become a flower in full bloom… strong and sharing her kindness with others… and so Carol took with her the old necklace of her father and started her journey. 

---

And with this I hope I can get back to twisted wonderland content but I still might fall back brainrotting about these two again and getting attached so.

[thedarknesssings]

Prompt 12: Confidence

Prompt 12: Dowdy - FFXIV Write 2023 Characters:  Ghost @the-ring-xiv, Marius @marius-vieremont, Idristan @roses-and-grimoires

The pile of lace, velvet, silk, and satin brocade scared Ghost.  The fabrics were rich and fine.  He hugged the plush towel around himself and wondered once again why his Ishgardians thought him suitable for such beautiful things.  He was a construct at worst, a thief at best.  Considering him spoken was a stretch for many given his nature was fog and not even solid flesh.  Hells, the flesh he wore was stolen.  

“Have you tried any of it on, yet, Sebastien?”  Marius’s voice came through the closed bedroom door.  

“Uh, no, not yet.”  Ghost glanced toward the door, squinting at it as if daring one of them to open it.

“Do you need help?”  Idristan’s voice this time.  

Ghost sighed and rasped out, “No, m’able t’figure it out.”  

He swore this was bonding time for Idristan and Marius, bullying him into traditional Ishgardian things.  The last time they stuck him in a suit was for a small party.  This was a gala affair according to the pair of them, the first ball of the season and a really big deal.  Ghost flopped down on the bed and stuffed the pillow over his face.  Sadly trying to suffocate himself wasn’t going to get him out of this.  He didn’t need to breathe.

The pillow thumped to the floor after hitting the wall it was thrown at.  Ghost sat up, his long dark hair shimmering silver in the flicker of the light cast by the fire in the hearth.  A full length mirror reflected himself back at him.  

He squinted his grey eyes.  Dull.  No colour like Idristan’s beautiful green.  He plucked up a few strands of his hair, still damp from the bath.  Boring.  Black with a weird silver that reflected off the bottom of the strands.  And every now and again, he glowed.  Like a fucking candlebra abruptly lit up.  

Marius was tall, willowy, handsome with his silver streaked hair boasting a lifetime of joys and sorrows.  All of which he could count as his own, know they were woven into his being because he lived through them himself.  The pride stitched into his graceful posture he’d earned.  

Idristan was stunning.  Soft, white hair that shone like the full moon flowed down the elegant curve of his back.  His eyes full of life and determination, things taught to him over the passage of a life he fought hard to keep.  He too had earned his pride.

Ghost had not.  His existence was nothing to be proud of.  His lifetimes were stolen and none of the knowledge he’d acquired was his own.  That too he could steal in the blink of an eye from the multitude of souls he’d reaped over the centuries.  

And they’d call him silly if they knew he thought this way.  With his infinite lives and infinite knowledge at his fingertips. There was something to be said for a single lifetime, for memories and knowledge earned, for foolish youthful mistakes and the wisdom that came with age.  He envied the men he loved.

His gaze drifted away from the mirror toward the pile of elegant clothing on the bed.  The two had picked it out with him in mind.  Ghost was not about to disappoint either.  He began the arduous task of pulling on the clothing.  The slacks fit him like a glove and the leather shoes proved to be quite comfortable.  The lace cuffs he thought a bit much.  This is about where he realized he couldn’t finish alone.  

Ghost pulled open the door, letting the pair plastered against it inside the bedroom.  He smiled sheepishly at them.  “I need help.”  The corset laces ran through his fingers as he drew his arm outward, a single eyebrow crooking.  “Whichever one of you is at fault for this can do it.”

Idristan grinned and stepped around Ghost, plucking the laces away from him to start the rigorous task of cinching the corset in around the thief’s figure.  A couple of pulls in and Ghost found himself gripping the foot of the bed.  Marius watched the pair through his fog-tinted spectacles, the enchantment in them allowing him relatively normal sight.  

“Have t’be so tight?”

Both of the men behind him answered in unison, “Yes, definitely.  Mhmm.”

“Are y’both wearing one too?”  He glanced over his shoulder.  Marius shook his head, but he was smart enough to be wearing formal robes.  Idristan grinned at Ghost.  The knee length topcoat he wore lay snug to his torso.  “You are.”  

Idristan furrowed his brow and yanked the strings tighter.  “Of course.  And why not have a waistline to envy?”  The strings were tied off and Idristan took Ghost by the shoulders to steer him over to the mirror.  “Look.”

The image reflected back at him surprised him.  The waistcoat pulled his waist in and accentuated the triangular shape of his body from shoulders down.  Like Idristan, Ghost partook of high-energy exercise on the regular, namely a lot of running in dangerous places and climbing into locations he shouldn’t be in.  It kept him in excellent shape.  The curve of his ass was on full display in the tailored pants and cinched waistcoat.  

“It’s practically indecent and you’re fully clothed.”  Marius murmured, his gaze avid on his husband’s image in the mirror.  

“This why your coats always have that sweet little bounce at the back?”  Ghost peered at Idristan, one hand sneaking around Idristan to run down his back and rear.  

“Yes, it is.  Now hold still.  We’re almost done.”  

Idristan let him have his feel.  He took the opportunity while Ghost was distracted to pull the white lace cravat into place and tie it for him.  Marius handed over a jeweled pin which Idristan placed centrally in the cravat.  The topcoat was regal in Ghost’s opinion, far too nice to go on him.  Neither wanted to hear his protests and the fine brocade was soon fastened around him.  It fit perfectly.  The silverthread leaf-like patterns on deep black satin fabric set the varying hues in his hair off, which Marius took the time to comb out neatly for him and braid. A pair of cufflinks that matched the pin were the final touch.

The pair stepped back to eye Ghost.  He stood a bit rigidly, like he was afraid to move.  His gaze was fixed on the mirror and the image there.  He looked good in all this finery.  Just like he might very well belong on the arm of a Viscount and in the company of the heir of a Baron. Ghost spun on a high heel and grinned at the pair of Ishgardians.  He ran his palms down his sides, taking in the smooth feeling of the tailed top coat and the shape the waistcoat made of him.  

“Think they might make one of these vests t’go under m’leathers?”  Like he needed something more suggestive beneath those.

[miqojak]

10 fandoms, 10 characters, 10 tags

Basic rules: choose 10 fandoms that you are part of/support, and choose a favorite character from each of those. Then, tag ten folks!

Tagged by: @dragonsongmakhali and @thefreelanceangel (thanks! I get around to tagged things eventually, lmao)

This isn't in any particular order, they're just in whatever order they came to mind! I'll also note that I've never really understood the concept of 'being in a fandom'? I just...like the thing? So I guess this is more like "A handful of my all time favorite characters, many of whom went on to inspire me to write similar OCs whether I realized it at the time or not." Anyways, I wax verbose on this, so...buckle up, and thanks ahead of time if you decide to read it all!

I'll go through my recent notifications to tag some folks who've interacted lately (also thanks, I've been very ill and out of it for what feels like months now...) @ashenbun, @the-sycophant, @eorzeanflowers, @iron-sparrow, @briar-ffxiv, @merlwybs-wife, @sundered-souls, @superbolided, @ahollowgrave

1. Harley Quinn, Batman

What's not to love? She's quirky, she's (incredibly) smart, she's bi, and she's just one of many female characters I love for being flawed, but better for it! She's dealing with mental illness, and feels like only this one person understands her - and having been wrapped around a narcissist's finger before? I get it. You don't realize they're a piece of shit until...one day you do, or one day your friends get through to you that this is unhealthy, and you're not really yourself around this person. I love that she gets to be her own character these days, and live her own life, and do what she wants to do (when she figures that out) - I actually love that she works more and more with the Batfam in recent material because...she was never a villain. She's always been chaotic neutral! She changed who she was for the Joker, and was always miserable and mistreated no matter how hard she tried to be exactly who and what he wanted (a mewling servant) - and more often than not, even when she did what she thought he wanted, he still punished and humiliated her (like when she almost killed Batman). Bruce has LONG been on Harley's side, and long tried to talk some sense into her...but I think they'd been 'at odds' for too long for his words to get through to her, and it took the initial mutual compassion (and eventual love) shared between her and Pamela for someone's 'get the fuck out' speech to finally sink in. And now she's a fully realized character/woman with her own goals, her own personality, her own style... and if people don't like that she can do crime AND do good stuff alongside the Batfam? They can fuck off - at least, I imagine she'd say that, tbh. It's her choice - she never wanted what the Joker wanted. She just wanted him to notice her. Now she can act on her whims, and live in the moment and live up to her fullest potential! (Plus, while I'm not Jewish, I love that she is! At least in most iterations that I've seen.)

I think 'hurt people hurt people' is another good tagline for her - because the instant she's shown real compassion...be it from Bruce-outside-the-suit, or Poison Ivy? You can see her heart. You can see the sweet, and loving person she is under all the performing...or 'masking', you might say. The tragic clown doesn't need your laughter... they need your compassion. They need you to listen.

2. Mackayla Lane, The Fever Series (I've read this series at least 6 times, and recommend you read it, too!)

Mackayla is a self-centered, pink-loving, girly-girl who doesn't think heavy thoughts - she likes to sunbathe, paint her nails, and enjoy lazy southern days by the pool, when she's not working part time as a bartender. Until her sister is murdered on a trip abroad, and in her fervor to find out what happened - and why it feels like nothing is being done about it - she picks up and goes to Ireland in search of clues her own damn self...and finds out about this whole hidden legacy of the Sidhe, Sidhe-Seers, and why/how she and her sister are tied into this world. It's such an emotional journey! She evolves into someone different a few times throughout this journey of grief, self-discovery, and...eventually, love. She learns to be more introspective, to be more aware of those around her, to look deeper in herself for strength, so as to never be a damsel in distress again - she fights furiously for a sister we never get to see alive. (and I love a good story about a character central to the plot who is dead before the story even begins, tbh.) She goes from someone I'd roll my eyes at, to someone I'd look up to, instead. She learns to be fierce, but not to lose her compassion in doing so. She learns to fight for not just herself, but others. She suffers, and it breaks her for a time - but she comes out of it stronger for it. She doesn't let it hold her down, anymore - she can't afford to, doesn't want to...she wants to fight back.

I love character development, and she's got it in spades...and that's not even touching on all the OTHER amazing characters around her in this series. Also, if you like a spicy slow-burn, this is it. 'Begrudging allies to lovers' is how I'd term it, I suppose. (I still long for a high production value show of this series...especially bc it would appeal to all kinds of people - it even goes post-apocalyptic later on! But not for the usual reasons.)

3. Margo Hanson, The Magicians (The show, not the books, for once)

Feminist icon without being 'cringe' about it - and has a line I love, later on, about how her father told her she could be anything she wanted...until she wanted to be those things. Suddenly, the world wanted her to pick - you can't be strong AND womanly; 'you can't have both,' they told her. And she said 'Fuck You', and did it anyways. She is impossibly strong, but even she feels deeply on the inside. She rarely, if ever, lets it show how heavy the weight of the world is...she just shoulders on, and does the things no one else will do. She stands up for what's right, and now and then she fucks things up, too...because she's only human. But she's never apologetic about who she is. She lives out loud, owns her body, owns her opinions, and the rest of the world better get the fuck out of her way, because she's got a witty one-liner...and a gun.

He's an alcoholic/addict, he's a wet rag, and he's basically the world's best occultist... whether you love him or hate him. (I love bisexuals getting the spotlight in media, so it's nice that he's that, too!) He's a rat bastard who's just trying to get by in a world that's chewed him up and spit him out time and time again - he drinks the pain away, he chases death, and...despite his best efforts, he lives. Because anytime he actually comes close to death, he realizes that it's all worth fighting for, actually - even if he always falls off the path again. Notably, neither he nor Harley Quinn were really supposed to be longstanding characters...and now they're both fully fleshed out people, and a couple of my favorites! I like that he's complex, mentally ill, and still tries to do what's right, most of the time. But the world pushes his hand, and something's got to give, and unfortunately it's usually the people around him who end up paying the price...which doesn't mean that he doesn't carry that guilt for the rest of his life, mind you. But the world itself was saved! ...though he'll never not regret the harm it causes the few people he lets close, and how it then causes so many others to avoid him like the plague, as they assume he's just a shit who will sacrifice his friends at the drop of a hat. He's the reluctant savior. The...anti-hero? I'm not even sure that's right, because he does want to do good. He just... does some fucked up things to achieve that good, because there's often genuinely no other way - and no one else has the fortitude or the know-how to do it but him. So he'll carry that load, so others don't have to. He'll smoke it away, drink it away...anything he has to, to quiet the guilt, and shame of saving the world from the shadows...never being thanked for it, because he doesn't fly around in spandex, or drive a fancy animal-themed car.

4. John Constantine, Hellblazer/DC Comics (An anti-hero I love, a rare bi-disaster MAN in media, and my favorite occultist/wizardy person in fiction, I think...besides Margo.)

Also, his Hellblazer comics are very politically left leaning and he shits on Tories and racists and homophobia, etc. He might hide his pain in ways that make him seem like a piece of shit, but at heart he knows what's right, and that his fellow man deserves better. (Also, it's implied that he slept with/dated King Shark...you go, king.)

5. Dracula, Bram Stoker's Dracula and Castlevania (first the game, then the show) I was obsessed with the book even as a kid, and when I saw the most iconic scene in a video game ever, I was in love with his Castlevania counterpart, too.

Not much else to add to this one - I just think he's cool! I love vampires! I love Mina, as well, for all the strength she shows in the face of almost-certain-doom...but I love a good villain, and Dracula is the perfect villain. Also, it turns out the whole book might just have been one big, gay metaphor from a man in the closet! That's pretty cool to find out, after all these years. I do love the backstory from the film of him being SO IN LOVE with his wife that he cursed God and just...became a vampire. Because 'I fought in your crusades and you let the woman I love kill herself? Fuck you, I'm just never going to die. Now I'll kill all your beloved humans!' Castlevania's backstory is similar enough that I enjoy both iterations of it - a man driven to madness by love, and loss...and in Castlevania, it's not even his FAULT he keeps getting summoned back, which is where this scene below even comes from, which kinda cracks me up. He specifically points out what pieces of shit humans are...they say they hate him, but it's humans who always summon him back to do THEIR dirty work.

6. Taimi, Guild Wars 2

When you first meet her, she's a bobble headed child prodigy, even among the incredibly intelligent race of Asura, with big hair and an even bigger pink bow on her head - who has a terminal illness, and a physical disability from it that makes it hard for her to walk...but it never stops her. Not even once. Commander might be a badass, but they'd be nothing without Taimi's vast intelligence saving the world time and again - and you almost have to watch her die! She loses her favorite mech, which is both a walking apparatus and her best friend, and goes on to lose her best friend/love interest...and the pain never breaks her. She's a literal child, a teen/young adult by current story - and the endurance and compassion and strength she shows are just...making me emotional to even write about. And while she's still alive in story at present (and they've aged her up over time!)... we discussed with her not that long ago in story how she is dying - and she feels the pressure to get as much done as she can before that day. But one day, she won't be with us anymore...and despite all the people that Commander has lost? I'll never be ready to lose my little rat-daughter.

Go play Guild Wars 2.

7. Jaina, World of Warcraft

You meet her as a young woman, in Warcraft - an idealist who believes in peace, and stands against the open, and blatant racism against the Orcs, and the Horde. She strives for this peace so hard that she allows her own father to be executed - and for years, she stands with the Horde, and speaks on their behalf and fights for peace...until those same people go out of their way to not just screw her over, but almost kill one of the only family members she has who accepts her, and steal an ancient artifact that could basically just wipe out the Alliance much like the bomb that was used to wipe out the whole city she was in charge of. She suffers from the guilt of not trying harder to help Arthas. She suffers so...so much guilt, for so many things. She isn't perfect, and she has acted out of hurt, and rage at times - but she grows, and learns, and becomes this whole person comprised of beautiful flaws and complexities. I know what it's like to have your friends betray you, and want to burn it all down. I know what it's like, to need years to come to terms with that hurt. I know the pain of years and years of guilt and self-loathing and 'what-if's'. Jaina has become an amazing woman who has helped people, hurt people, and learned both difficult, and beautiful lessons along the way, to become an ultimately better person who still believes in the rights of all people...just with less of that youthful naivete that got her so hurt and blindsided.

8. Ahsoka, Star Wars: The Clone Wars

I put off watching Clone Wars, and thought I wouldn't like how they worked Ahsoka in...and boy was I ever wrong. Finally, at long last, there's a female character who is given as thorough a Jedi treatment as Luke, or Anakin...if not better! I love analyzing the 'family lineage' of which Jedi mentors which, and it's a bit funny how Qui-Gon was a rule-breaker paired with Obi-Wan-the-rule-lover...and then he ended up with a padawan even more about going against the grain, because Qui-Gon was supposed to have 'raised' Anakin, himself - then Anakin ends up with a Padawan in an attempt to teach him about how to move on from loss...because all padawans grow up and move on with their lives, one day - but he ended up with someone just as hard-headed and outspoken and out-going as him, and he got a taste of what it was like to be his master! All that said, Ahsoka grows and develops and learns hard lessons, and...grows up as a child soldier in a war the Jedi never should have been a part of, anyways - and (spoilers) when she goes on to be wrongfully accused of a crime by the Jedi Council...they try to walk it back later by saying 'oh this was clearly a test by the Force and you've passed, hooray promotion'. Ahsoka is having none of it. It's hypocrisy. It's a lie. They can't put their own pride aside, and admit that they were wrong! And why would she want to be a part of an organization like that? That's not a promotion at all. Now she'd be just like them, and that leaves a sour taste in her mouth. (Not to mention other hypocritical things she notices throughout the series.) She goes on to learn to live in balance - not all emotions are bad. It's not about complete eradication of emotion, but learning which ones to cultivate, and which ones to set aside and think on. She learns what the elder (extremist) Jedi will not - balance. She becomes better than all those who came before...even Yoda, who is in her Jedi-family-lineage; he admits that the Jedi are blinded by their arrogance, but he's among them! I love everything about her story...so far, at least. I've got yet more catching up to do with Rebels and the Ahsoka show.

9. Asajj Ventress, Star Wars: The Clone Wars

Honestly, I like her for a lot of the reasons I like Ahsoka - they're like two sides of a coin, and I think she even says this to Ahsoka later in the series. But Asajj suffered immensely early in life, and lost two father figures (even if one of them was her kidnapper) - to include a Jedi Knight who was briefly her Master, before he was slain in battle. She was picked up by Count Dooku, and had her pain and hate stoked like a fire...and in time he betrayed her, as well. And still...she went on to be resilient, strong, smart, and a master in her own fields of stealth and assassination. She learned hard lessons, and learned to think for herself - she learned that she didn't need any of those men who had come before, in her life...she only needed herself. Her own wits. Her own strength. Her own intelligence. Much like Ahsoka, she broke away from what others tried to mold her into, and became her own woman... whether people liked who she became, or not.

She's a badass. Watch Clone Wars. Read her books.

10. Buffy, Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Does this one need a reason? She's an imperfect badass, too! She's a lot like Mac, mentioned earlier - she's girly, but not always. Sometimes it concerns her what people might think of that - being feminine, but strong - but she learns to embrace her strength and ferocity and role in the supernatural world... although not without bucking against the system just like Ahsoka and Ventress do - she makes it her own. She plays by her rules, not the Council's, not her Watcher's...and when she does so selfishly, and screws up, she learns a hard lesson about the wisdom and input of your friends and family, and considering how your choices affect those around you. She decides she will not be a dog on a leash for the Council (maybe she was some inspiration for Ahsoka...) - she's here to do two things: look fly, and kick monster ass. Oh yeah - and empower other young women to do the same.

Honorable mentions for Spike (from Buffy), Lucifer (from the self-titled show), Aurene (GW2), Eliot Waugh (The Magicians), Catra (SPOP)

You'll no doubt note that pretty much all the women on the list are people who suffered immensely/were wronged and eventually grew stronger for that, and overcame both the situation and their own flaws...I love a bitch who can overcome both her own flaws, and the world itself being against her!

[purple-link]

Alisaie and Purple Link

FFXIV Write 2024 Story Entry

Spoiler: Story takes place after WoL reaches Garlemald in Endwalker, but but before the Tower of Babil dungeon. Story will be largely sfw, but will adhere to FFXIV's level of mature storytelling.

Chapter 23: On Cloud Nine

“…And that’s just how it’s been,” said Purple Link, flying on one of his own Lanners, a purple-winged beauty, natch, “My life has been an endless series of bad luck cases. I was working out in the fields of Central Thanalan before Thancred found me.

"I don’t really need to tell you what happened after that.”

“Duly noted,” said Alisaie, agreeing, riding atop her own Yol, “However, Purple, you must understand, I wasn’t there for most of it.

"I re-joined the party in Ishgard, only really seriously considering joining permanently after the debacle that was the Crystal Braves.”

Purple Link grimaced. He remembered the efforts that Alphinaud took to make a unified front against the Garleans, what was to be now called the “Grand Company of Eorzea.”

…There was to be another name, he remembered, but it was shot down quickly.

In any case, the matter of Alisaie’s joining of the Scions was moot point, now that they were pretty much each other’s moral anchor.

In the figurative sense, not in the soul sense.

“I suppose that’s true,” said Purple Link, “I mean, long story short, we went after Gaius in the Praetorium, he went on about some such other, things like who I fought for, or why men like Louisoix would grovel at the feet of the gods.

“Understandably, I was very glib,” he added, as if all the memories rushed back to him over and over, in a never-ending repetition of yelling and golden gunblades.

“Who wouldn’t be,” said Alisaie, “Not that Gaius thinks that now, but he’s had his own perspective shifted about Grandfather’s actions. I think now he would be paradoxically impressed by him.”

“Yeah,” said Purple Link, sadly, “But it took him losing nearly all his family to change his mind.”

The Wolf Burglar, who had been flying very neatly alongside his huge but otherwise very normal falcon Montaro, had been listening to only about half this stuff.

“This really doesn’t concern me at all about any of it, does it?” said the Wolf Burglar, “I mean, I understand basically nothing.”

“Let’s just say,” said Purple Link, “The definition for ‘apocalypse’ didn’t have a plural until I came along.”

“That’s not strictly true, is it?” queried Alisiae, “After all, this is the Seventh Umbral Calamity.

"Unless Hydaelyn is swarming about the planet’s surface activating Warriors of Light all over the place, I don’t think we could depend on anyone but you to face the dangers we ask of you.

“However, I don’t think that excludes the number of people who have been Warriors of Light in the past, to face those previous calamities,” said Alisie, “Nor does it explain the very large wall in remembrance of the Rising, in Ul’dah’s corner of their streets.

"Obviously, there had to have been others.”

“Well, I’m just glad to help,” said Purple Link, “Whatever the case may be. Speaking of which, do you know where we should look next?”

“Well, this is Yanxia,” said the Wolf Burglar, as they swooped over the great red wall that separated the ruins of Doma from Namai, “I’m pretty sure we covered this whole coastline, sans the Glittering Basin.

"All the same, it wouldn’t hurt to do one more go through.”

“Agreed,” said Purple Link, and they separated to cover more ground.

It was now two days before the ceremony, Alphinaud was still a prisoner of the bandits, and they were no closer to finding the location of the ceremony. All previous requests to hold the ceremony anew elsewhere were quickly shot down.

“I want this to go as perfectly as possible,” said Lord Hien, after debriefing with him swiftly, “The best show of diplomacy with our Lupin allies is to be as accurate as possible.”

“The Lupin appreciate a show of force,” said Hakuro, “But we equally appreciate a solemn gesture. Such is the way of the Alpha.”

The mention of tradition forced their hand, and with Lord Hien insistent on it, they had no choice but to look for the location on their own.

Starting over in the southeastern portion of Yanxia, which connected to the Ruby Sea, they covered all the familiar haunts, stretching from the Glittering Basin itself to the ends of Prism Lake.

From their vantage point, Purple noticed the Lupin in the Glittering Basin were fighting against the Tenaga, big hulking tree-like creatures that wrapped around a crystal host.

He only merely cast a glance, but he thought he could see an oddly shaped white-furred Lupin teaching the bandits how to do a trick.

His attention was laid elsewhere, as he flew over a rather beautiful and isolated spot he’d visited many times before. It was one of his favorite secret spots, a plum spring with large blossoming leaves, a pink so vibrant, they could even be seen in the dark.

While this helped him clear his mind, he deemed the place a bit too perfect for such a ceremony. It didn’t attract visitors the way that even, level ground could provide.

“Hey Purple?” said a voice suddenly, in his ear. Purple Link tapped the linkpearl twice to answer the call.

“I can hear you,” said Purple, “How’s it going, Alisaie?”

“So, I just covered Namai, and I know you’ve got the Glittering Basin covered,” said Alisaie, “But I’ve been told stories about our friend, and I wanted to run them by you, first.

"Could I ask you to come to Namai?”

"“On my way,” said Purple Link, and he hopped back onto his purple-winged lanner and shot off into the sky.

Meanwhile, the Wolf Burglar was having a hell of a time. Having just survived yet another excursion with the automata that roamed Doma’s razed streets, he floated above Prism Lake, thinking the Lupin would have to be mad to travel so high up, and so far past the line of Rijin rule, if they wanted to have a celebration on such uneven ground.

Especially if it was the Lupin he was thinking of. They would have rather been caught dead than willingly travel through Doma’s boundaries, even if it was merely a matter of principle up to this point.

He was still thinking about Purple Link, and their time in Rhalgr’s Reach. Having left the sunny spot to the Ala Mhigans, they blipped back to Yanxia, to try another hand at searching places it might not have occurred to him to look.

He was thinking about his parents again.

He hated to do so, it brought to him some uncomfortable memories, about living under Garlean rule, about having to live off the streets.

Traveling to Kugane felt a little familiar to him, and he realized it might have been because he wasn’t the first person to do such a thing.

He’s berated the Warrior of Light long enough on his status as a superhero, he didn’t exactly have time to question who he was as a person.

He didn’t realize the Warrior of Light would have all the answers.

Not that his pre-teen years didn’t go by as a blur, of course it did, especially before he turned ten. But he did remember his parents' faces.

Huge muzzles hovering over his, like proud parents, or perhaps that of a pet owner. It didn’t matter to him, he was their child, and he was happy.

Then came the purge of insurgents.

He didn’t remember who they fought for, he didn’t know who they were, and he specifically didn’t remember how his parents were involved.

He knew, even then, that life could be cruel and unfair. Waiting around for things to get better on their own didn’t seem to suit his lifestyle, so he dug a little deeper, cut a little closer.

With his step-father’s sword by his side, he could start taking down some big-name targets.

But how the tides could quickly turn. The horrible leaders and two-timing merchants also had families, and they weren’t exactly awful fathers when they were alone. Depriving them of even their families was beneath his stature.

He didn’t like to kill. He just liked to steal. The people he spared would soon come after him, with bounty huntres, serial-killers, and the Sekiseigumi, the police force that worked for the Kugane government.

They would sooner become villains in their own right, and good luck to that, but it felt like a mercy that was spared too soon.

But then Purple Link arrived on the scene, and that blustering Hildebrand. He couldn’t believe his eyes that his world could flip-turn, upside-down, and show him a newer perspective.

And now he was doing it again.

What right did he have to be cynical, thought the Wolf Burglar about himself, all he could think about was a samurai sword and a few broken promises.

Promises he made to his parents.

Promises he made to his adoptive samurai father.

Promises he made to the people of Kugane, who were waiting for his salve of justice.

Then there was the possibility the world could be destroyed at any moment, he thought. The problem became too big in his mind to contemplate.

He decided he would leave that to the real Warrior of Light, to truth and justice, and whatever else he had on his plate.

Before he knew it, he was on the south side of Doma.

Doma and Doma Castle surrounded a large river, one that separated Doma from the section of the southern side of Othard. In the middle of the river, he could see, was the Doman Enclave, almost a small hutlet community from this distance.

…What was he going to do about Lord Hien, he thought. If everything went well, he could bring a whole new generation of Lupin security and peace. On the other hand…

As his thoughts drifted to the possibility of betraying Lord Hien, his eyes caught something. Something that hadn’t occurred to him before.

From the streets of Doma, a path wound it’s way down to the shores of the gulf, where stood a short pier. He hadn’t thought of it at the time, but the pier seemed too small to travel the One River without taking great pains to get to the sea, and eventually the ocean.

It didn't seem like it could berth huge trading ships easily. It must have been for local transport.

Cross the One River, on the other hand, and you had a small little island, one that shouldered a huge cliff face, and the gargantuan Dairyu Moon Gates.

These gates had recently been hijacked and refitted to include Garlean shield technology, but since the Garleans had left, there was no one there to deliver upkeep.

Anybody could pass through them.

He wondered…

The first thing that caught his eye was a tree that grew in a very odd way. It was almost tapering off and growing precisely upside-down and horizontally in tiers.

It was growing on top of a huge pillar of rock, not unlike those in the Doman Enclave.

It vaguely reminded him of something.

“...Upside-down tree…” said the Wolf Burglar, “But where are Ganen’s eyes?”

He snapped his fingers, and then flew around the gate, to the visage of Ganen carved into the very rock of the Dairyu Moon Gates.

He smiled briefly at the noble figure of the Doman leader, until he realized the eyes looked clouded over. Not only was the crystal laid into the eyes of the carving icy-blue, but a bunch of crude bird droppings had caked the the lenses. The leader was effectively blinded.

No one had come by to clean it. No one lived in Doma, Namai was too far away, and the namazu, those flippy-floopy catfish that lived in Yuzuka Manor, would probably live to clean it, if it weren’t for dealing with their own problems.

“So, if Ganen is blinded?” said the Wolf Burglar, feeling like he was onto something, “Where are his eyes…?

“In the back of his head!” recalled the Wolf Burglar, tapping his fist into his palm. He flew back around the Moon Gate, only to find the cliff face didn’t have any indications.

“...What?” said the Wolf Burglar, “No eyes…”

He shook his head.

“Maybe I’m imagining things,” said the Wolf Burglar, mildly disappointed, “It was just a dream, after all…”

Feeling like he monumentally wasted his own time, he was about to turn and leave, until he saw a pair of windows in the distance, in one of the columns of lookout towers posted in cardinal directions, each side of Doma Castle.

The whole place had been wrecked, purposefully destroyed by Lord Hien and the Warrior of Light, in an effort to drive out the Garleans.

The Wolf Burglar always thought that it was a terrible waste, not that it could spoil it’s newly organic beauty.

Cascading waterfalls flowed through the recently destroyed halls of the Rijin dynasty’s castle. The lookout towers seemed hardly touched.

The Wolf Burglar twisted his head sideways, as like a dog that heard the word treat the first time and wanted you to repeat it a couple more times just to make absolutely sure it heard you.

And what a treat it was, too. The tower looked an awful lot like the mustache and beard Lord Ganen wore on the other side of the gate.

Suddenly, and in a flash of imagination, everything became clear. The old lady au ra was talking about level ground, an upside-down tree, and the back of Lord Ganen’s eyes.

The eyes weren’t literally behind the carving, they were behind the gate, looking ponderously at the upside-down tree that hung over what looked like a perfect spot to hold a ceremony.

He flew to the side of the gate. He could see Purple Link hovering over the Glittering Basin, heading toward Plum Spring.

The Glittering Basin had a direct connection to Doma Castle, if the Lupin wanted to travel from there to the island. In turn, the Doman civilians could come down from their "high-horse," slumming it with the commoners that lived in the outskirts.

It couldn’t be more perfect.

A location that not only brought the Doman’s down a peg or two, but allowed everyone to travel as equals.

What’s more, with the Doman Enclave in view, it seemed even more appropriate, now that they were on even more equal ground.

“This feels too easy,” said the Wolf Burglar, his fur standing on end, “This couldn’t be…

"But it should be.

“I need to tell somebody,” said the Wolf Burglar, flying on Cloud Nine until he could reach Namai, the assumed direction that Purple Link headed towards after reaching the Plum Spring. He had a pretty good suspicion he could meet the Warrior of Light there.

He started to hoot and holler, howling like a mad wolf, his mind sparkling at the possibilities of what could be a most excellent ceremony.

…

It was 38-hours before the so-called ceremony was to take place, and they couldn’t get a clue to find the location before the Warrior of Light’s party could.

Before he could return to Akimitsu, the shadowy Lupin who had traveled to Ala Mhigo, felt it important to tail the heroes.

As they used the aethernet to travel to Yanxia, he figured it was as good a place to start as any. However, considering the bandits hadn’t officially attuned to the crystals, he had to go the long way around.

He figured it took him at least that long to get here, but he was awarded by the Warrior of Light's party taking high wing, looking all over the place for a location they had obviously not found yet.

What luck!

He hunkered down for a spell in a bush, and waited until he watched one of them discover something unusual about the landscape, in case it was here in Yanxia.

His favorite of the party to watch was the Wolf Burglar, not only because he felt a kinship to him, but also that he cut an interesting figure.

The Lupin didn’t wear bulky outfits, nor did he wear the general Lupin uniforms everyone had been wearing. The Garlean occupation was so recent, there hadn’t been time to tailor new outfits that could accommodate their unique body shapes and their generously floofy wolf tails.

On the other hand, the Wolf Burglar wore chainmail, and was often seen wearing sleeveless attire. He was the type that could afford expensive clothing and armor from Kugane.

But he didn’t hold a grudge against him for it. This shadowy Lupin was unashamedly jealous of the Wolf Burglar’s lifestyle, and wished that he could walk in two worlds as easily as that dashing Wolf Burglar did.

Eventually, his observation paid off. The Wolf Burglar spent an inordinately large amount of time hovering over a spot by the One River. As soon as the Wolf Burglar left, he traveled on foot to that very spot.

At first, he didn’t get it, because all he could find was a deserted island full of nothing but Whitewing Hornbills and Lightning Sprites.

And then he looked up, to see an upside-down tree, one that grew over the edge of the rock pillar.

He remembered what the Wolf Burglar told him about the Xaelan Au Ra and her dream.

Could that be true?

Could she see visions?

He looked around for anything eye shaped, and almost despaired, thinking that the Wolf Burglar had finally gone mad, but the way he was hooting and hollering, you’d think he’d found a holy grail.

On the side of the dilapidated Doma Castle, there were some windows that seemed to look like eyes, and at the right angle, they appeared to stare right at the upside down tree.

The shadowy Lupin grinned, feeling like things were finally starting to go his way.

“I can’t wait to tell Boss Akimitsu,” he shouted happily, hopping into his boat and rowing all the way back to the Glittering Basin.

To be continued…

(For those curious, the spot in question is X: 9.8 Y: 17.6 Z: 1.0 in Yanxia)