#Josephine Gallier

[hithren]

OC-tober 2021 Day 15: Thief List by @locke-rinannis

Something small and simple today cause Im hella distracted. But gotta celebrate that new glam they showed in the media tour. I stg it better not be for DoH or Imma rIOT

I borrowed Ruran’s Emerlain too, I dont think there’s a hat.... but I gave him one anyway

[locke-rinannis]

05 // Matter of Fact

✦ MEANING // Practical and focused on reality. ✦ CHARACTER // Emerlain Moreau & Josephine Gallier ( @hithren​​ ) ✦ SCENE // Markets of Ul’dah.

“You look ridiculous.”

“Do I?” Emerlain grinned, threading his fingers through the very large feathers that adorned the wide-brimmed hat on his head.

The two elezen stood in the middle of a bustling market. Emerlain, twisting and turning to regard himself in a mirror at a tailor’s stall, seemed far more comfortable in the crowd than the other, Josephine.

Josephine’s arms were tightly crossed, and she stole a glance this way and that, studying the faces in the crowd while trying to turn hers in such an angle that others could not do the same to her. “Yes, you do. Let’s just get what we need and go.”

Emerlain hummed, shaking his head and watching the feather bobble back and forth. “You’ve got to live a little, my dear Josie. Spend all your time fretting, and you’ll miss the joy in the small things. Like hats.”

“You know that I have plenty of good reasons to fret,” she flatly retorted, casting a cold glare in his direction.

He pretended to feel a chill, his shoulders rising with a tremble, but he cast a grin back to her. “Yes, I know. Just humor me, won’t you?”

She stared at his beaming face for a long moment. Her lips pursed. “... Very well.”

“Good. Now tell me truthfully about this hat.”

“You look ridicu—“

“—Ridiculous, yes, yes, we’ve already established that part. But why? Tell me the inner workings behind your thoughts.” Emerlain leaned toward Josephine, and the brim of his hat would have brushed against her forehead if she hadn’t taken a half step back. Undeterred, he continued. “What about this hat offends you so?”

Josephine exhaled a slow sigh and studied him. “It is gaudy and impractical. Such flamboyancy could make one think that you are overcompensating for something. Or that you are a jester.” She blinked, and a rare bit of mischief crossed her gaze as she added, “... I take it back. Perhaps you should get it after all.”

Emerlain’s brows went aloft, and he erupted with a delighted laugh. “As expected, your tongue pierces sharper than any knife. But was that amusement I saw?” He beamed. “My dear Josie, there is hope for you yet..!”

[a-memory-of]

The midday sun beat hot against the sand-weathered stones of Ul'dah's streets. But the heat never stopped the desert city's routines, especially in the marketplace: deliverymen pulled their carts, merchants at colorful stalls battled for attention with shouts of amazing deals and extraordinary wares, and adventurers and buyers of all shapes and sizes perused such goods with either awe or incredulity. In his own way, Emerlain Moreau wanted little to do with the crowd. Not because he didn't care about the lively energy that being surrounded by people offered (on the contrary, he loved that about Ul'dah), but because he was busy with other matters. Sitting against the wall, beneath an awning that shielded him from the sun's rays, he sketched on his parchment. His pale blue eyes then peered up, past the crowd, and to the impressive, ornate building that sat on the other side of the street. Architecture was the subject of the day, and he made certain to note the length of each column and flow of each flag that was caught the hot breeze. As ever, his expression was calm, if not pleasant, and despite his concentration on the building beyond, he gaze occasionally strayed along the streets. His concern wasn't with the crowd, but he certainly didn't mind watching it from his almost-decently cool spot.

The heat was something so entirely different than she was used to. Josephine Gallier found it odd she was missing Ishgard of all places, but she was. Her hair had been tied up in a bun, offering some escape from the warmth and it was an attempt to look more presentable even when she felt as frazzled as she did. Carefully clutching the same leather-bound file to her chest, she hurriedly made her way through the market, dodging the crowd and carts alike. Josephine stopped a moment, looking around and giving an exasperated sigh. How she was supposed to find anyone here, was quite beyond her. Pulling the file back a bit, she looked down to a parchment resting between it and her chest. It had a hastily drawn map and directions upon it. Someone bumped her shoulder as she looked down at it, and then up at the street. Scrunching up her nose, the Elezen stepped off to the side, looking at it and fanning her face with her free hand.

Emerlain wiped locks of hair that had stuck to his forehead in the heat, leaving behind a light smudge of charcoal across his skin. His steel gray tunic was dusty, just like everything in Ul'dah, but otherwise quite well-kept. A few strokes later, and he glanced back up. Then, his head tilted, and a clever smile spanned.

Not far, off to the side, stood Josephine. Their last meeting had not ended well, at least not to her (he presumed), and he was half-tempted to simply pack up his book and slip away. But...that brooch, her name, and a long-distant memory compelled him to act once more. 

Briskly, he tore a piece of parchment from the book and began to fold. It was a simple design, and he worked with nimble fingers, occasionally glancing her direction to make sure she didn't leave yet. Then, he popped to his feet and swept over to the woman, the contents of his hands hidden behind his back. He simply...stood beside her, nonchalantly. Wondering how long until she would notice.

Josephine had been too lost in the scribbled directions to notice the other had all but slid up beside her. Still frustrated and fanning herself, she mumbled something about Halone under her breath before she turned sharply, making to walk back the way she had come. Perhaps she had gone too far down--- 

As she turned, she very nearly walked right into Emerlain's chest, but stopped herself, scrambling for her file to keep it in her arms and an apology already forming on her lips, "Ah, forgive me sir, I didn't--- you!" 

Blinking, she stood there looking at him. It was most certainly the artist from the bar the other night. Clearing her throat, putting a stray hair behind an ear, and standing straight as if she had never had such an undignified moment at all, she pursed her lips at him, "If you'll excuse me, I'm in a hurry."

Emerlain quite positively beamed. “Of course,” he replied in a smooth but chipper tone. “I’m certain you have much better things to do than talk to me. However, I noticed you look like you’re still adjusting to the heat. Especially today, as the sun seems particularly unkind.”

In a swift movement, Emerlain presented her with the parchment he had torn free prior. It was a delicately folded fan, and on one side was a sketch of a mountainous landscape he had done during one session or another. He offered it was a smile and a slight bow of his lanky elezen shoulders. "It isn't much, but perhaps more useful than your bare hand, hm?"

Josephine almost commented on the nerve of his implication, how dare he assume she was anything other than perfectly refined in this Twelve-damned heat? But she thought better of it, it was a waste of time and she was already lacking that. Clamping her mouth shut, she half-turned as if to move away when a folded paper was forced into her line of vision. 

Stepping back and blinking, she studied it. A fan. Her eyes caught on the sketch a moment, taking it from his fingers and into her own, one arm still curled around the folders at her chest. "Is this... why would you ruin a perfectly good drawing like that? How absurd," she clicked her tongue, squinting her eyes at him a moment. 

But it was rather hot. She pursed her lips. Would using it show too much weakness? She could always use it once she was out of sight. To start sweating would be improper, however... and so she gave it a few test flicks.

Emerlain shrugged, lofting a brow in her direction. "Ruined? Now 'tis a beautiful fan, instead of a parchment. One can be both beautiful and highly functional." He grinned, perhaps intending his words to mean something else, perhaps not. As she looked at the fan to test it, he looked at her. And then to that little brooch on her chest. 

"'Tis a fine brooch. But aged." He spoke casually, smiling kindly. "It must be important to you."

The fan helped, she supposed. But she was not about to admit it so readily. Josephine couldn't help but give him a wary look at his words. Had he not been speaking of a simple fan then? 

His next words stilled her hand, before her olive eyes settled back on his face. "One usually finds importance in gifts," she muttered, tilting the papers she had in her free hand his way, "If you must insist on conversation, at least make yourself useful. Do you know where this is?" A gesture of her chin pointed to a neatly written name, likely a merchant stall.

Emerlain merely smiled, a look that often accompanied a mischievous glint in his eyes, as if he knew a secret. His keen ice-blue eyes then peered down at the papers, studying the location. His brows went aloft. “The name certainly looks familiar. I could lead you, of course, but on one condition.” He peeked up toward her. There was that smile again.

Josephine could not help give a wary look at the other, immediately regretting having asked for his aid at all. Not with a look like that. There were countless other's she could have asked on the street for directions. She had no need for his games. Blowing a breath out her nose, she deadpanned, "And the condition?"

Emerlain's expression somehow brightened, realizing that she was going to entertain his offer, at least. He rummaged through the pocket of his trousers and procured an item, obscured by his hand as he offered it to her, looking amused all the while. "You simply must keep this." 

If or when she offered a palm, he would drop the item into her possession. It was small, about the size of the pad of her thumb, and green. The Thanalan sun glimmered off the shimmering sheen of jade, and it had been intricately carved into a creature: a skulking fox.

She found she immediately regretted her answer, frowning at his own suspicious looking smile. Josephine watched his every move as he dug around in his pockets. With hesitance, she raised her hand in turn to collect the offered item. She was not sure what she had been expecting, but she certainly had not expected something like that. 

Josephine studied the little carving, she could not tell it's purpose, but she recognized easily enough it probably not had come without a considerable amount of gil. "But I..." her face fell a moment, the lines of agitation fading in that passing thought, "What am I to do with this? Why are you giving it to me?" When in Halone's name was the last time she had received any sort of gift?

“So many questions. Do you not receive trinkets often? ’Tis surprising. Place it somewhere nice to commemorate our meeting, or keep it out of sight for the same reason, whatever you like. Just do not sell or toss it away, t’would be rude,” Emerlain nearly laughed. Then he stood a little straighter. “Now, the merchant you’re looking for isn’t on this street. I daresay it was in the direction you came from, but you missed the the turn. Come with me, hm?” He motioned to the street behind her, then spun on his heel, tucking the pad of parchment under his arm and moving to lead the way.

Josephine stared down at the little carving for a moment longer, before she carefully tucked it away in a breast pocket. For some reason she felt more agitated about the gift than the heat, being lost, or being late combined. But she carefully trained herself back with a deep breath. 

Thankfully, at least, several of those problems were remedied once the other led her down the proper street. They parted ways at the stall, she had business to attended to, after all, and he seemed content to be on his way. Josephine gave one last look to his retreating back, before shaking her head as she unfolded the paperwork from her stack before the merchant. A strange man like him was not someone to dwell on.

With @locke-rinannis

[appartsix-cents-soixante-sept]

Der Ratssaal! Denn Napoléon war ja doch ab und zu mal Zuhause und musste auch hier mal ein paar wichtige Entscheidungen treffen, also wurde extra für ihn dieser Raum gemacht. Man achte auf die aufgefallene Dekoration! Der Raum sieht aus wie ein Zelt und die goldenen Waffen, die man unter der Decke findet, sind die Waffen alter Kriegervölker, unter anderem der Gallier. Ich musste auch sehr an die Asterix-Filme denken, irgendwie...? 

Dekoriert ist dieser Raum dann aber auch mit mit dem wichtigsten Frauen im Leben eines Mannes – die Mutter und die Ehefrau! Ich… musste ein wenig lachen ehrlich gesagt. Die linke Frau ist nämlich Napoléons Mutter; mit der Büste ihres ambitionierten Sohnes im Hintergrund. Nun… die Ironie ist deutlich, wenn man bedenkt, dass Napoléons Mutter den Kontakt mit ihm abbrach nachdem er Josephine heiratete. Ihr Sohnemann hat sich aber dennoch gedacht, dass es eine gute Idee ist, so ein großes Gemälde von ihr machen zu lassen, inklusive Selbstbildnis. Was wollte er uns damit sagen? Mir egal, dass du mich nicht mehr lieb hast, ich lasse dich dennoch malen und tu so als ob?

Immerhin ist Napoléon doch jener der proklammierte, dass die Geschichte von den Siegern geschrieben wird… und es war auch Napoléon der die Meinung hatte, dass es nicht wichtig sei, ob der Maler einen getroffen hat – das Genie muss erkennbar sein, also die Symbolik, das was die Person ausmacht.

Napoléon, was wolltest du uns sagen…?

[hithren]

OC-tober 2021 Day 2: Freedom

List by @locke-rinannis

“I exist as I am, that is enough.”

[hithren]

💤 What was your OC like as a baby, a child and as a teen? (if your OC is a teen or a child, what will they be like as an adult?). How have they changed since then? What lessons have they learned and what things about their youth do they miss the most? Do they have any general regrets? (Josie!)

Josephine was almost a completely different person when she was younger. She had a rough childhood; her father was a knight that died in the war before she was born and her mother a brothel worker that would eventually fling herself from the ramparts in despair before Josie could even walk. While being raised in a Brume poorhouse, she maintained a spirited and adventurous attitude.

Her teenage years were spent indentured to a Lord from a minor house. By that point, the cold reality of her life had sunk in, and she lost much of the spirit from her youth. She gave up on most of her passions, namely music and dance.

Josie doesn't know if she could call her youth one full of regrets, she has had little choice in her life up until this point. But she does miss the carefree days when she had dreams, she'd admit.

[hithren]

Inspiration and art in general are still real hard, so have some vaguely shippy scribbles I did for ockiss week/valentine’s that I’ll likely never finish but

featuring @locke-rinannis‘s Emerlain and Ruran and @ffxivaltstars’s Laurens

[hithren]

P : PARTNER. what does your muse look for in a partner? looks / personality? (Josie)

“You ask a question that I rarely give thought to... it is something I gave up some time ago. Perhaps in the past, if asked, I would have said someone who saw me as not less than I am. Is that not enough?”

Josephine is jaded, about many things. Her social standing and class growing up in Ishgard shaped much of how she felt about herself and her future. She went from a vibrant, albeit orphaned street rat, to a cold woman that accepted her lot and did not have any dreams. She recently has begun to see differently. An ideal partner for her would be simply someone who understands. Who seeks no title or power, who stands equal with her. A love of music is also a plus. 

[hithren]

FIXED VERSION - 💐 How does your OC handle being unwell or forced to rest in bed? Who cares for them and in what ways? Does your OC enjoy being doted on or are they a terrible patient? Reversed: is your OC good at taking care of others who are ill or in need? - For Josephine

Josephine is not the type to let herself rest if she were to get ill. She does not often afford herself luxuries, like medicine, even if she can afford it now. So if she were to be forced bed rest, I do not think she would take it too well. 

At the moment, she does not really have anyone who would do so, anyway. But should the circumstance arise, she’d probably be a terrible patient who wanted out of bed as quickly as she could, or be caught sneaking back to work. Deep down, she would be utterly taken aback by being cared for so, and a little embarrassed. 

In reverse, if she found herself in the position for caring for someone ill or injured, she would make sure they were taken care of. She’s not that heartless. She might be overly strict, or apply some tough love, but the care would be there.

[hithren]

V   :   VALENTINE.   how does your muse feel about valentine’s day? - Josie

“It is fine. I suppose. It is not for me but I know it brings many joy. Good for them. There is not enough of that.”

Again, Josie is a bitter and jaded fool. If she actually took the time to celebrate anything, she’d enjoy it. Especially any music and dancing. But she means what she says, while she has not participated, she believes small moments of joy are too often overshadowed. There’s nothing wrong with a silly holiday that celebrates love.

[hithren]

I finished themmmm. Here’s all my idiots. Until 5.0 anyway. And then a viera is joining the mix too.

Now to find asks to reblog or something.

I also need to think about opening these for commissions.

[hithren]

🍬 family headcanon (Josie)

Josephine used to dream of having a family. With her father dying in the war before she was born, and her mother throwing herself from the ramparts soon after her birth, she never knew what it was like. As a child in the poor house, like many, she would have fantasies of a mother and father who loved her, and would fill their home with music. Deep down, she doesn’t truly have a concept of the word at all.

[hithren]

The Swallow “You hear ‘bout that fool the Blades are lookin’ for? Rightin’ wrongs, defendin’ the weak... bah. Heroes don’t wear masks an’ slink ‘bout in the dark.”

[hithren]

Prompt 9: Hesitate

Character: Josephine Gallier Location: A rooftop in Ul’dah _____________________________________

Do not hesitate. 

Her finger twitched. 

The trigger gave the smallest of clicks, but not enough to fire. Josephine sighed, lowering the rifle down. 

She cursed herself, repeating in her mind. Don’t hesitate. Don’t hesitate.

She had built the rifle for this purpose. She had donned this mask, taken this mantle for this purpose. Josephine had turned from everything she had known to see this through. She wanted to make a difference.

What was one bullet? One shot? 

But it would be the first. The first bullet of the first shot. And pulling that trigger for the first time marked a new age, a new life. Josephine never had much. The life she lived before was comfortable, even if it was a prison.

She was safe in that life. She had no time for dreams, ambitions, desires. But she had been safe, and she had been proper. And she had been alive. This shot, this moment would change it all.

Do not hesitate, her mind screamed again.

Take freedom. Take justice. Make it hers. This was not cruelty, this was righteousness. It was for all those, like her, trod upon by those who held coin and name. And those who thought such made those without less.

Josephine rose the rifle up again. Down and down through the sight was lalafell. A man just visible through his grand manor’s open window. He was sat at a large, opulent desk. And it was covered in gold.

A wealthy merchant. A man who had tried to cheat her while making trade agreements for her lord. But she was not doing this in his name. No, this was for her.

Josephine later found the man got his gil by lending to those he knew had not the means to pay them back. And he wrung out every last coin they had for it.

Don’t hesitate. Do not hesitate. 

It was deserved. One bullet could offer the freedom of so many.

She fired.

The bullet hit with a spray of blood. The man cried out, screaming and holding his hand. His hand. 

Josephine cursed under her breath, not staying to hear the guards called. She turned, jumping across a nearby rooftop and then sliding down into an alley. 

Even after everything she had hesitated. Her heart slammed against her rib cage. It was not where she had been aiming. The heart, or the head. Is that not what she wanted? One bullet to save so many?

But perhaps...

It was better this way. A warning. Perhaps that man would think twice the next time he looked down on someone. Perhaps that man would look to his mangled hand every time he counted his crooked coin and remember that it could have been his heart, or his head.

And perhaps, just perhaps, it would give him pause. He would hesitate because she did. 

For Josephine, that would be enough to help her sleep tonight.

[hithren]

I’m slowly working on new expression sets for all my idiots. Every once and a while I get the urge to update their art, try something new, and make changes to reflect their character growth.

I also wanted to try a different/bigger sprite. I took influence from visual novels/dating games etc, where the sprite often ‘pops’ into a new pose/emotion. At least that’s what I was going for.

Anyways, here’s a few of my ladies, more to come, obviously.

[hithren]

My turn! (For anyone you think would fit)

Josephine Gallier and Nemisae Durdael have joined your party!

Starting Dungeon: “A noblewoman? I see...”

Assisting: “Once is enough.”

Being Assisted: “...Thanks.”

Idle Dialogue: “I’m afraid I’m not in the mood to answer questions.”

Witnessing Nemisae KO: “...Trouble.”

Reviving Nemisae: “I’ll see it through.”

Finishing Dungeon: “I don’t like to stay in one place too long. I thank you for the assistance.”

Josephine will always prefer working alone, so it is often apparent she is quite bothered to be stuck with a group of people. Pride or perhaps some form of honor won’t let her leave until the job is done. With Nemisae, and others, she will only refer to herself as the Swallow. As a DPS she gets the job done, at a distance, and a bit trigger happy on the LB.

Send me “My turn!” for dialogue my muse would have while in a party with yours.