#I feel as though Sona lacks in field experience

[virtuosen]

@ofxcrimsonxedge

Everyone everywhere would hear the news; Shibuya was falling. Not to terrorism or to economic collapse--but to curses. It was all over news media, though not directly claiming curses as the cause, but those within would know better. One Sona Buvelle certainly did. While not a proclaimed jujutsu sorcerer or hailing from any of the prestigious schools, she lived among their ilk--a hidden songbird within the insidious web of intrigue and death. And while she hid away like some precious treasure, others were being slaughtered. Lestara, her adoptive mother from America all but confirmed this. While the Buvelles did not meddle directly in such affairs, they were constantly dealing with passing information, such as their role as diplomats within Japan. There was an orchestrated event, and through unknown circumstances even to her wise guardian, conditions were worsening. "And they will worsen yet if we with power do not act." It was simple enough to evade the detection of those who stood watch over the estate. Sona had grown accustomed to finding alternate routes out of her home so she may explore town beyond the Buvelle complex. However, where she roams far exceeds that humble life in Nara she had before. Where her swift footfalls lead her to is that of the epicenter of tragedy--Shibuya itself. It is there that Sona finds herself, cornered in a dead end alleyway with a curse blocking her only means of escape. Her body trembles, deprived of precious oxygen from the chase. It didn't help that she was burdened by the weight of a rather peculiar object, wrapped up in cloth and bound to her back. She hadn't wished to use it yet, wanting to sneak around until she could find another sorcerer, but- "M̵̬͗a̷̮̓m̵̧̾ȁ̷͙ã̸͍a̵͓̾~" A discordant voice cries out from the amalgamation, one with eight arms and legs, with skin sloughing off its body like a seeping pustule. "M̷̥͒͝a̶̱͕̅m̶̹̓̒ͅa̵͍͗̈́a̶̩̐͛ă̶͜ą̷̜̍̚a̴̐̆��̳â̸̘̻ä̶̪ä̴̡͒ ̵̡̰̃̔w̵̻̳̓̓h̸̥͐͠ȅ̴̗̏ṟ̷́͘e̶̗̹̋ ̶̡̌͒ä̷̪́͜r̵̯̀̈ḛ̷̽̂ ̷̭͛́y̶̤̐õ̶͎̑o̷̡̦͐o̷͍̠͗ô̷̲ű̵̖̉!!" It screams while taking charge at the petite woman. Those blue eyes glimmer, the color of gold dancing within her orbs like sunlight on the ocean. At once the object from her back flew forward of its own accord, those delicate wrappings all but torn apart. "I am sorry," A serene voice echoes, ethereal. "I cannot save you." A hand raises, long fingers barely grazing the top of the golden artifact which now hovered before her. With that singular hand stroke came a wave of blue energy--and song. It, too, was ethereal and fleeting, as if it came from the heavens itself. There was something so rapturous about the sound that it surely could not exist. The ornate curvature and the golden glow to the artifact certainly made it appear holy in nature--something to be revered as a work of art than a weapon. And yet, as that blue energy streaked forward, it cleaved two large slices into the curse, successfully halting it in place. But then the mass of flesh started crawling at her, then it began ripping itself apart, splitting itself by arms and legs. Sona pressed herself in the dank brick wall behind her, watching in abject horror at the metamorphosis. She struck down the creature--but it wasn't simply a singular entity--it was a curse which was clinging to others like a colony. "M̷͓̬̌A̵̗͖̍M̶̘̆Ä̴̪A̷̗͖̎A̴͍͑̈́Ä̸̲́A̴͎̯͋̀A̴̳̺̍́A̷͙͋͜Ä̶̤́!!!" The set of five curses cried out, leaving the fallen sixth on the alley floor, all but forgotten as they charged the twin tailed woman. Sona hesitates against the wall, her mind racing. She hadn't used the etwahl until now, and she and it still had energy left to use. But cornered like this, against these numbers? She could unleash that technique, but she hasn't used it on others before--and that would deplete her energy significantly, leaving her as easy prey for any other curse that would happen upon her from the attention she was drawing right now. But wasn't she dead if she didn't attempt it? "Ŵ̵̲H̷͕͂Ë̴ͅR̷̳̄Ē̴͓ ̴̮̌I̶͙͂S̷͒ͅ ̵̳͛M̷̛̲Ȃ̴͔Ṁ̶̗À̸̱A̶͙̔A̸̭̍A̴̻͗Ǎ̶̬A̷̡̒À̵͔A̴̛͜!!!!"

[candilee-joestar]

This took much longer than intended. I drew each of Scoria's main jobs! Here is a bit about them in lore order.

White mage- Taught some basic healing by her mother who was a well known healer in her area, White magic came most naturally to Scoria and was what she relied on in the earliest parts of her travels. Not being very physically strong, she used it almost as a crutch as she bumbled her way through the primals plaguing Eorzea, often relying on the strength of others to push her through fights. Encountering Lizzy while lost in the wilds of Gridania, she taught her some basic’s about being a conjurer. While this did help guide her, she still struggled through most encounters. She grew to resent her white magic and sought other ways to protect herself on the battle field, though, this was an uphill battle, as she had no real combat experience. It wasn’t until much later in her time on the first where she discovered the true strength of white magics, bolstered by the mass of light entering her from the flood. It was this point where she fell back in love with her roots and looked at it more as a tool in her toolbox rather than a weakness.

Red Mage- A secret love of Scoria’s was always the fights on the blood sands in Ul’dah, growing up and watching match after match with her parents. Her favorite heel, Cemi the Titan, who she’d been a long time admirer of, she became friends with and share with him her insecurities about her strength. Noticing her affinity for white magic and her total lack of strength, he felt a good stepping stone would be Red Magic and even (in a very domineering and heel-ish way, tossing it on the ground at her after besting her in combat) gifted Scoria her first rapier. Despite his non-nonchalant and demeaning disposition, the sword had clearly been hand crafted specifically for her.

She created a “Heel-Sona” for herself. Smooth and smug, dawning a set of circular, red, sunglasses (which were secretly also prescription grade as she is blind as a bat), she called herself “Drake” for her time in the coliseum. It was through this that Scoria found some ability to make her way through the dragonsong war. Touching the Eye of Nidhogg when attempting to remove it from Estinien’s body corrupted her aether with that of the wyrm’s, filling her with all his years of rage and hate. Scoria, never experiencing such feelings in this way, tried to channel it through her red mage magic, but this was not effective and often resulted in her accidentally injuring herself or her comrades.

Even after learning to channel this magic through dragoon, she still enjoyed the color it gave her aether and uses a bit of it while using her ‘Drake’ persona to give her more of an ominous glow. Dragoon- Corrupted by Nidhoggs aether, Scoria often would be doing simple tasks, sitting at home, reading the paper, and objects around her would explode in a cloud of red. She was plagued with migraines and flashes of the hate and rage of the wyrm. Visions and feelings about dragons or people she’d never met, as well as some she had, namely Estinien. After returning from Kugane and to Ala Mhigo, the problem only grew and Scoria sought out the one person who knew Nidhogg best: Estineien himself. After some long talks and begging (and some harassment from Tataru) he agreed to help her channel this rage. It was through this she grew to understand him more as a person and in turn, herself.

It was through Dragoon that Scoria finally found her true strength. It felt almost natural to her, channeling the energy of dragons and releasing it on her opponents on the battlefield. She felt swift and powerful, almost unstoppable. It was through this that she finally found a love of fighting and challenge, no longer the meek woman she once was. Her tall frame now posed to give her an advantage, having the strength to back it up.

While on the first, after being filled with so much light that she nearly became a sin eater, Nidhoggs rage and anger finally dissipated. There was so much white aether, it completely burned out any trace of him left inside her, transforming her dragoon gear and lance a brilliant white and brass color. Dancer- Scoria was never one for sexuality or showing much in the way of skin (or scales). Her parents had made it very clear from a young age how she should present herself at all times, so these desires were often suppressed, choosing to wear clothing that covered most of her body.

After marrying her husband Kahdan, she felt he did so many things for her to make her happy, she wanted to do something for him in return. Hearing about a trope of dancers in town, she went and met with them to learn more. While she didn’t gain too much in the way of sexual confidence, it did help her at least look like she did. Unable to fully commit to the relieving dresses of the other dancers, she did still find an outfit that showed off more skin than what she was used to.

Her husband, supportive as ever, purchased her an outfit in his favorite colors to wear. It was hardly clothes at all, Scoria struggled with the idea mentally of going out and being seen in something like that. Still, from time to time, as a way to help build that confidence, she would go out with him in it, completely red faced and usually hiding behind him as to not be seen. Dark Knight- Ardbert after melding with Scoria’s soul would often stay up at night talking to her. Because they were essentially a part of each other, she would confide her deepest, darkest, fears to him. Sometimes willingly, sometimes because he would find himself wandering in her dreams, unable to escape them. He realized her deep seeded fears about her own inadequacy. That she felt ill-equip to be the savior of not only his world, but her own. That she was tired of always being everyone’s hero. That she missed the days of painting in her flat with her room mate Alha, when she was no one. She even had some resentment for her friends and the common folk for relying on her so much. He helped show these subconscious thoughts to her. He brought them to the forefront, but did not shame her for it, explaining how he went through something very similar and how the hate that his own people felt for him harmed him even after his death. Ardbert guided her to his own dark knight stone, buried and gone from the eyes of others. He had her learn how to channel these dark thoughts and feelings into fighting. Taking the resentment she felt deep in her heart and turning it into a shield to protect herself and others. While these feelings never truly left, understanding them more did help. She would talk more openly about these problems with those she loved and found that she had to carry much less burden that way, literally and figuratively.

Island Sanctuary- No real story here, outside of Im pretty sure this is where she eventually retires. I just really like this glam.