#Kovalt

[kovadocia]

Quality Father-Son Time in Gyr Abania circa 1557

"What's that?"

"No idea. Stand back."

Sharing this to dip my feet back into Tumblr: my FFXIV OC Kovalt as a kid with his father, watching the first days of the Garlean invasion from a remote village in the Peaks. 

Also sharing this because Kovalt’s dad was a badass and one day I’ll retry posing his mad sledgehammer skills. 

[starres-stuff]

Day 30: Free Choice- Family Photo

"The husbands, the brothers, the brother-in-law and me" -ft @wineandsalt's Clement and Laurent, @kovadocia's Kovalt and @verean's Qih'a (as the stoner sleeping on Vi's leg)

Happy Dawntrail everyone!

[an-ishgardian-tale]

"Now that the Holiday is over time to share the pictures of our ugly Starlight sweaters!" -ft @wineandsalt's Clement and @kovadocia's Kovalt

[ahollowgrave]

5. Does your OC have a signature weapon and/or attack? How long did they train to master it?

This one was a bit of a puzzle because Odette still sort of a non-combat character. She has done exactly 1 sparring.

BUT.

She does have a living branch that she uses as a cane. It was gifted to her by an elder tree in the Shroud that she and her mentor, Kovalt, aided. Kovalt has a matching one! Odette’s is the smaller of the two and from its branches hang ribbons and bells and charms. Currently, her only signature anything in combat is the crying. It's just a lot of crying. She is, slowly, learning how to swing a sword and properly block with her shield. Both of these items are mundane although they have names, known only to Odette because she's a little embarrassed about it.

Eventually, she will wield once-lost swords but she has to find the still-lost saints’ tombs, first.

Thank you for the ask @ascendedhypothesis!! > Get to know my OC <

[the-sharlyan-song]

"Please help him" the Sharlayan laid bright lilies on the steps of Nophica's Altar. It had become a tradition of sorts now, and every time he came to Gridania now he stopped in this very spot and said a prayer for his Laurent. It was always a short one, with no names mentioned in case he was overheard. "Help him see I'll never leave him behind or alone."

Moons became other Moons, and days combined with days. He had found his first white tendril of hair just a few bells earlier, and his eyes looked more tired than usual as he watched the subtle breeze blow across the petals and threaten to send his gift spiraling off to the four corners of the Star. Normally when the Duskwight was in this mood he would just go and talk to his sister who would set him right as rain. She knew much about love and sadness but most of all she understood the worry that washed over a person when the person they couldn't imagine their life without was suddenly changed.

This time he chose to keep her out of things. He knew if she heard any of this she would put her own wedding on hold and stop her plans to go to Corethas with Clement and Kovalt, to be there at his side. Viviane had given enough of her life to others, it was time for his darling Sister to have her day in the Sun. She had gone through six Moons of Counseling in Ishgard with one of the Priests to help her with her troubles and in the days recently behind them he had seen such a change in her. Dimitri was happy for her, more than he expressed because his heart was so consumed by worry for his fiance. The worst part was she knew something was wrong he could see it in those expressive blue eyes as she looked at him, but like he had told Clement when the met by accident in the fall, Vi could not be brought into this. It was the longest that Dimitri had hidden anything from his Sister and he was on the edge of considering himself a liar at this point.

"He has served you and yours well." He murmured to the Altar, his hand coming to rest over a sigil he had begun to wear that bore Nophica's marking. He talked to her often now, and he had begun to believe. He had never been a man of faith, but now he would do everything he could to help Laurent, even going as far as to push away years of training about how the Twelve we not real, and perhaps they weren't in the corporeal sense, but every time the Sharlayan stood in front of this altar he felt the presence of Faith and Hope, and it stilled his mind for a little while.

"Remind him I love him." He murmured further, some nights were easier than others, but on this one tears sprung to his eyes and soon left crystalline paths cutting down over his normally pale cheeks. Tonight they were pink from the chill in the air, and he found himself wondering briefly if they would turn to ice on his face as they fell only to shatter under his feet.

"Please?" The word was a struggle "Help Him." Kneeling down he left a drawing of two men kissing near the flowers, their faces unfinished but one had short hair of blonde and the other a deep brown that curled down his back. Then he rose, wiped his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets so they wouldn't get cold on his walk.

Somewhere in Gridania that night a heart ached for its lover and it cried from all the uncertainty that one twist of fate had left on their path.

[sippycupgames]

First #bourbon was kovalt. Pretty smooth #beerbourbonbbq https://ift.tt/39dckFp

[jens-jp]

NEXT PREVIEW｜20SS この度イェンスでは、メキシコ／マーサ・グレアムを主題としたプレビューを開催いたします。 会期中は新作の発表に併せ、フラワーベースのセレクトショップBlumoによる展示販売を併せて行います。 東京① 会場｜PLACE by method 会期｜10.14 月 - 10.20 日 時間｜10:00-20:00 東京② 会場｜COMPOSITION 会期｜10.22 火 - 10.27 日 時間｜11:00-20:00 福岡 会場｜Blumo 会期｜11.1 金 - 11.4 月 時間｜12:00-20:00 大阪 会場｜KOVALT 会期｜11.9 土 - 11.14 木 時間｜12:00-19:00 Blumo https://blumo.theshop.jp/

[glamdoodle]

BIG BASHFUL BOT

A quick sketch commission for my pally, Kor! Look what you did, you went and made Kovalt blush!

...

um so here’s my unofficial announcement that I’m open for commissions again, and I’m accepting an UNLIMITED number of sketch commissions!! I’m still only opening 5 slots for full-color commissions, though. I’ll make a better post about it in just a bit but feel free to check out my commission page for now if you’re interested!

[kovadocia]

Prompt 14: Attrition (Kovalt)

[CW: Mentions of violence, non-consensual medical procedures.]

 A Castrum in Ilsabard, A Few Years After the Calamity 

There was something wrong with the implants.

The hierarchy was trying to hide it. The vans and mals all the way down to the kirs. Even the quos, the fighting centurions who’d stand shoulder to shoulder with the troops and were respected for that, were part of this action. They’d say shite about “rates of attrition,” like the words would disguise it, but Kovalt knew was all bollocks. The enemy fought the same as they ever had (though sometimes they were weaker and thinner, he could tell, though he never dwelled on why).

No, the difference was in the other auxiliaries, the fresh ones in Kovalt’s cohort, who came with newer implants. They could lift more weight than he could, and their eyepieces were smaller than his own but with stronger acuity. They didn’t need to sleep as often and they could take more swords and magics to the torso before going down.

They could fight harder than Kovalt, but he wasn’t jealous of them. Some would scream at voices only they could hear; others would follow commands from these voices. Some would try to rip the metal out of their skulls. A few would run into the thick of the enemy as if asking them do it.

Kovalt did not know why they did these things while he did not—only that his age group has less of these anomalies, less attrition.

Sure, sometimes he hears voices, odd ones. But these voices don’t speak in words, nor do they seem to be coming from his eyepiece or armor. He half-remembers his mother telling him about the whispers of the wind and mountains and assumes it to be something along those lines: a misty malfunction from his savage past. He tells no one about that.

A centurion offers to put his name forward once, saying he can get a newer eye, more calibrated adrenal release mods. The reinforcements in his skeleton can’t be replaced at this point, but (the centurion reads from a console), some of the newer synthetic tendons might be a marked improvement.

Might. Kovalt heard it plain as day from the centurion, who stares evenly at him. He has three natural eyes to Kovalt’s two, but his optical implant replicates some of the acuity of the Garlean third eye. Even so, Kovalt knows this particular Garlean has sharper eyes than most: he’s seen the man shoot in battle.

“Given the status of things here—they are training replacements as we speak—it’d be a shame to lose you during the recovery,” the centurion adds impassively, as if reporting some routine gunfire. “If you accept, oen Arminius.”

Accept. If. Something in how the centurion looks at him emphasizes those words, followed by his rank and given surname. The fact that it’s a choice is surprising to Kovalt. He never chose the implants, the metal eye or reinforced skeleton or the tuning of his endocrine system. He was almost a child then (though he’d been a man in the eyes of his tribe, he thinks), newly taken from Gyr Abania and gifted Garlean ways. The gifts included the new eye, received at the cusp of puberty, and the injections into his limbs. There had been anesthesia, chems to make him sleep through most of it and take away some of the pain. That was also a gift from Garlemald. The infrequent headaches and racing heart were not a gift, but he’d learned to manage them all the same.

“I’d rather stay here,” Kovalt finds himself saying, though with the uncertain cadence of one who isn’t quite sure how to phrase a refusal. “My current level of combat efficiency would be sharply decreased by new implants—the recovery time, centurion.” The recovery time: relearning to walk, see, shoot once more.

The centurion doesn’t seem surprised. “Noted,” he says simply. He lifts his gaze from where it met Kovalt’s own and glances at Kovalt’s hair. It is neat enough, though on the longer side of regulation. There is a single braid, back and center.  

He half-expects the centurion to say something about it, but he only goes back to his terminal. “The techs can focus on legionnaires who need the enhancements,” he adds, leaving Kovalt parsing that comment as he adds: “Dismissed.”

[starres-stuff]

Elftober 2023 Day 31: Spooky ft @wineandsalt's Clement as Alucard @kovadocia's Kovalt as Trevor and Viviane as Sypha! "No, no please don't do this! Remember who you are!! You swore to protect him!"

[an-ishgardian-tale]

[ahollowgrave]

Cut Corners: idiom: This term alludes to rounding a corner as closely as possible in order to shorten the distance traversed or save time.                                     // it is unwise to cut corners when seeking knowledge

The first time you see Kovalt you are -- smitten.  Enamored.  You had not been outside the reach of your convent and Mother for long and you had always been curious about conjury. About Hearers. And there was something about his steady presence that drew you in, settled the nervous fluttering of your heart as you fought so desperately to keep the shape of girl.

It is embarrassing to think about, now that those feelings of infatuation of settled into a comfortable fondness. 

The first time you earned one of those brief smiles, the first time you startled a laugh out of him, the first time he sat in awe of something you had shown him. These are moments pressed to the fabric of your soul, giving its quicksilver nature molds to fit. Impressions to flood, grooves that say: Here is what you are. Friend and Student and Sometimes Teacher. Here, you are kind.  Here, you are smart. Here, you are stronger than you know. 

Here is my soul, take what you would need, give what you can. 

You have built yourself around his influence. Here was your first shelter since leaving the convent. Something at once familiar and new.

He is your oldest friend - and best, you think. 

Under Kovalt’s tutelage, you have come to understand that there is no rush and that shortcuts are rarely worth the trouble. The long-way home is usually better, the flower that blooms late is just as lovely, and the silly dancing of the ritual is actually very important. 

Here, you have time.

[the-sharlyan-song]

"Are you certain" It was late in the evening when she arrived at the door, she looked as if she had cried for hours and even more as she stood holding the keys to the cottage that had been her home for cycles now, out towards him.

"Yes, you are the next caretaker." The transition had been coming for weeks now and finally Vi was ready to move on. She had done all the rituals in Doshaine's letter and she had made her peace with the spirits that rested within those walls. It was one of the hardest things she had ever done but it felt right in her heart. It was time.

"Where are you going to stay Vi? Have you told them yet?" He looked down upon her with concern in his eyes, he had never seen her cry it was a rather beautiful thing, not that he would dare tell her that.

"The Path and no, not quite. They are staying at Cenodocia's while she is in Ishgard on business. I will not just move in with out speaking to her directly and I dare not take them to Jienuex Manor, there is nothing there but death. The Path is a good sound building with plenty of rooms in the back. I can decorate one for myself and I will be okay. There is work to be done there anyways." What she did not tell Dimitri was she would likely just rest in the greenhouse as it felt as close to nature as she could get living in a more civilized area.

"What about this place." He motioned, stepping to the side and waving his hand at the place "This is perfect for someone just starting their life in Eorzea, which after five cycles you are Vi"

Into the room she cautiously walked, but only made it part way. She could feel Saphelle in every ilm of it and she started to walk backwards to the door "No I would like to sell it once you have relocated it. I can feel Mother's aether here and I do not welcome the thought of her haunting me." Again she did not tell him everything it was better that way. The body they buried while it was their Mother's had been vacant of her soul. She had been torn open by a Dragon during the war and her body claimed by a voidsent as a vessel. There was no kind way to tell him that and likely she never would.

"No we both need a new beginning. You need to vanish so they cannot find records of you and I need to stop hiding from the Star. Your work will benefit from access to the cottage and I can put my work in motion. I have left you a letter on the table at the cottage with the full explanation of what you watch over. It is one of three reliquaries that belong to our House. You spent Moon's devouted to Occult Studies you are the best choice, even though you dislike Witches" Vi flashed her Brother a toothy grin then.

Dimitri did not smile in return, in fact his brows furrowed and he let out a long side. "I am not comfortable with you staying in that building Vi. Reconsider please?"

There was another shake of her head and she reached for his hand, pressing the key into his palm. "I spend most of my Nights with Clement, Kovalt often works overnight. I leave in the morning after he comes home, sometimes I will stay if they both have the day off. It will be fine, and so will I. It has to happen this way Dimitri." She was adamant about it and the look in her eyes told the Sharlayan that to her this was Nymeia's path for them. It had to be followed to the letter.

"Very well, I still feel I got the better end of this bargain. It is a very welcome thing really. It gives me a place to lay low while I appeal to the officials of Gridania to allow me to become a Citizen. I had hoped my work for the Adders would have helped my plea but the last three have been declined. I do not doubt it is because I am a Duskwight. I doubt the Elder Seed-Seer has anything to do with my rejection letters as is written in them." finally he gave in and accepted the key. It was the one way he could ensure he could stay here with Laurent, disappearing into the deep woods and not looking back.

"You are a Jienuex." Vi replied sternly "You carry your birth name. If Gridania refuses you again, seek the clerk in Ishgard. Yes, it will mean accepting your title and being on public record there as a Noble, but it also makes you a Citizen born in Ishgard. Your adopted Father cannot try to have you brought back to Sharlayan with that at your back. There are ways to keep you here with him." She gave her Brother a knowing look "But you may need to compromise to achieve it."

Dimitri knew she was right and he greatly disliked the fact that she was. He would do anything to not leave Laurent behind, including what he was about to do by fleeing to the cottage to find freedom and he found his head nodding. "I will let you know if my appeal is denied again. Then I will do as you ask, but you will tell them you are staying at the Path and soon. They do not know what happened there and neither do you." His eyebrow raised and he returned the knowing look for he did remember all those walls hid.

"Fine" Vi said through gritted teeth, he could even see her fangs and she jutted out a hand towards him to shake on their agreement. "I will tell them but if they try to change their lives because of me, Dimitri, I will find you and cut every last lock of hair from your head for forcing me to talk. I do not want them giving things up because of me, no one should." The look in her eyes said she was not joking and he took the warning to heart, before taking her tiny hand to shake, her words tearing at him.

"Vi" he started to say then shook his head, she was fiercely independent and there was no changing that until she was ready. "Is there a time I have to occupy the cottage by?" Another thing he disliked, admitting to anyone including her how well versed he was in ritual magic use.

"Yes, by twelve bells on the 21st day of this Moon you must have entered the space. Be timely about it. I do not wish it to be lost to us." Then the conversation was over, she let go of his hand and stepped back to regard him for a long moment.

"The next time I see you, things will be much different for us both. Good Evening Brother, Spinner guide you." And before he could even speak she turned, started to walk away then vanished like a ghost before reaching the private aertheryte.

"Well fuck." Dimitri said after she vanished and the whistled for Kit, his fox. "Time to pack Kit! We have a bit of a walk ahead of us."

[ask-annaiathe-and-kovalt-blog]

This is a simple illustration of my brother's head. Though his specific coloration is not shown in this drawing, Kovalt's scales are a rich copper tone, and his eyes are among the bluest I've ever seen. Kovalt and I were both hatched from the same clutch of eggs. As much as it pains my pride to admit it, I was the runt of the clutch, and the only one without wings.

Why are my clutch-brother and I in different clans, you may ask? Well, it's a very long tale involving a very complicated series of events. Simply put, I would rather not regale the story at this specific point in time.

[starres-stuff]

The Lovers -ft @wineandsalt's Clement and @kovadocia's Kovalt

"The trust and the unity that the lovers have gives each of them confidence and strength, empowering the other."

[starres-stuff]

Day 7- Morsel FFXIV Write 2024

Morsel: small piece or amount of food; a mouthful

Vi had gotten up early that morning to make pastries for breakfast. She loved to do this when they were all home and had time to spend together. She had even snuck out of bed, thrown on one of Clement's older shirts that hung just past her knees, and made it downstairs without being caught (or so she thought for now). 

At first, she thought she would make rolanberry scones, she had just brought home half a basket the night before but this morning when she stuck her head into the cold storage she found the basket nearly empty, her lips even pressed together in a thin line so she didn't burst out laughing because of how little was left. Whoever attacked them had even taken the time to spread out what was left on the bottom or the basket, while drinking straight from the bottle of Malbec that had been mostly full when she put it in there two nights ago before bed. Other things had been picked at as well and by the time she closed the door on the device her eyes were twinkling and her shoulders shaking as the feeling of mirth took her over. 

Sadly, without the Rolanberries, Scones did not sound nearly as good. There were other types she could make of course but they just weren’t what she wanted this particular morning. This thought process eventually led to her gathering the ingredients for Croissants, stopping only to look towards the stairs when the floorboard above her made a loud *CREAK* sound. Surely someone else was up with a noise like that unless they did have Ghosts in the rafters, which being in the Shroud this long Vi had come to realize that anything could happen at any given moment. 

Putting aside the noise for now she began to make the dough measuring out butter, flour, sugar, salt, yeast, and milk, each ingredient going into her mixing bowl to be carefully combined by constantly folding them together until they formed a ball. It was at this point that she transfered it into a glass bowl, and covered it over with a damp cheesecloth, taking it to the cold storage, where she exchanged the new dough for a bowl that had already been sitting there. A trick she had learned early on to keep herself from waiting nearly half a bell while the dough rose in the cold.

It didn’t take long for her to return to the counter where she quickly moved through the other steps of making the perfect Ishgardian Croissant, the hardest part was always shaping the dough, making certain that it was the perfect square, getting the triangular cuts correct so that the folding would go easily, and then the rolling. Her fingers had become so nimble from the process that the way she went through these steps would look like art to anyone who caught her working. Once she had placed them each on her baking sheet, she put them into the oven and then moved over to the other side of the kitchen to juice a few oranges. 

It was about this time that the stairs creaked, and with where she was it wasn’t easy to tell if someone was there or not, she tried leaning back to see if she could see past the large pillar but there just wasn’t enough room for her to see, but with the smell of fresh croissants slowly filling the house she knew better than to believe her morning peace would last much longer, but on she continued with getting the rest of breakfast ready, part way through removing the Croissants from the oven to let them cool on the rack while she scrambled some eggs and sauteed vegetables the were noises behind her.

“Good Morning beloved.” Clement’s voice was almost a sign song, and she knew that meant he was up to no good, in fact when she turned around to look at him he was lingering right near where the croissants were, dressed in his linen house pants and a loose shirt he had thrown on. This was the side of him she loved the most, the one where he was just himself. 

“Do not touch the croissants dear heart.” there was a tease in her voice, and she turned back around to finish grilling the meat that would go with breakfast. 

“Why, I would never touch them Viviane.” Clement smoothly deflected the accusation, by slipping across the room to run his arms around her waist and place a kiss on her neck “Is there anything I can do to help with this? You have been working so hard beloved.” This brought a giggle from her, and she peeked over her shoulder to catch the look in his eyes “You could set the table if you like. That would be helpful. Is Kovalt awake already as well?” leaning in then she went to place a kiss on his lips but at the last moment, this was deflected to his left cheek where her lips planted right into his well-maintained skin. While he was pretending to be innocent, that sudden turn of his head told Viviane all she needed to know. 

“He is! I left him in the dining room where he was setting the table.” Clement said with a bright smile, the type that filled his mismatched eyes with this mischievous glow. 

“Well, then I guess there is nothing left to do.” which is what she suspected the two gremlins had planned as soon as they smelled breakfast cooking “The rest is almost done, you could always take the juice out to the table.” she motioned to the tray a bit further down the counter where three glasses sat “I just need to make some tea and then I will be done. 

“Oh, will it be the Marsala Chai?” backing off then to let her move he returned to where the croissants were cooling instead of getting the juice. “How about I take these out to the table! I’m right here.” he offered, and for a moment she could have sworn she heard Kovalt snicker from the other room as if he had been listening to them the entire time or waiting for the handoff of a tray from Clement.

“Yes it is the Chai love and I need to finish them up. I am drizzling chocolate on some and then doing the others with cinnamon sugar.” Vi’s ear perked to listen for an answer and what she heard was a “Mmmm” sound coming from behind her. 

“I mean mmhmm! That”s right you haven’t finished yet.” Clement added quickly, clearing his throat right at the end. 

“Why don’t you go and join our husband at the table and I’ll bring everything out when I am done.” This was Vi’s way of shooing him from the kitchen, she even turned around with the large plate that had the eggs, meat, and vegetables on it to be taken out to the table and she set it down on the tray she had gotten down for it’s transport.” 

It was then that she noticed it, the crumbs right at the corner of Clement’s lips as he smiled at her, giving her that loving look he always did when she came close to him. 

“You did, didn’t you.” Viviane gave him a playfully sour look, her lip jutting out in a pout. “You touched the sacred croissants before I could even decorate them didn’t you.” her eyes cast downwards towards the platter where she finally found the evidence, three of the croissants with their perfect golden brown finish, were missing the caps on their ends. 

“It was just a small piece beloved, a morsel I swear! A mouthful! There is still plenty left and I didn’t ruin a single one. I sampled all three to make certain they were okay for everyone else to eat. It was only a nibble!” 

As Clement defended himself against the feisty redhead who swatted at him with a towel she had grabbed from the countertop, laughter erupted from the next room where Kovalt had indeed been watching the whole thing happen instead of setting the table.