#Little Ala Mhigo

[necozukin]

[tishinada]

I hadn’t caught this before when I played through the Little Ala Mhigo portion of ARR: Hremfing: A ways northeast of here you'll find the Sepulchre─a frightfully named place, no? Fitting, though, seeing as how it's best known as home to the villainous Corpse Brigade. Hremfing: To think that the erstwhile kingsguard of Ala Mhigo could end up a band of murderers and thieves. Mind you, they had a less-than-pristine reputation in the old days as well.

I mean, we know the last king in Ala Mhigo was a piece of work, but apparently he surrounded himself with the same sort...

[cinlat]

Febhyurary: Day 20 - Tribe

Prompt List

Back in Fynta’s days of the Ala Mhigan resistance

[fatedroses]

zenos, but he's getting spammed by his weirdly tech savvy great-grandfather.

[variaandroise]

Why is it that every time the closest Aetheryte to where I need to be, I need to go north from there?

Never once have I taken the correct exit out of Camp Drybone.

[swiftcast-selene]

Day 2: Home

sometimes it's hard to think of the shadow of a castrum as "home", but... it's much harder to deny the effect the Shroud and its people have had on him.

[storms-path]

Au Ra August 2024: Day 21 - Picture Perfect

"I never get tired of that view."

A new dawn. A new day.

[hikinghydaelyn]

I swear, this challenge has just become free therapy at this point. If ever a day rolls around where I only want to exist as a consciousness and not a person, I hop on Nanari, and suddenly all I wish to do is enjoy the moment. It's silly, saying a walk in a game can be healing, but if it works, it works.

[transmiqote]

it’s been over a year & a half since endwalker but the in from the cold quest is still living in my mind rent free

[shivasdarknight]

For gwendoline

4. Does your OC have a failed friendship or relationship they still think about? What happened? Is it an unresolved regret or is there a chance for reconciliation?

So I had to sit on this one for a long while because I was trying to think about if Gwen had any because honestly, it's really only up until mid-ARR that she really starts building stuff outside of herself. She's not super interested in relationships or friendships initially, as she's more concerned about her work. Sure, her work does involve helping others - she starts off as a chirurgeon for a sort of medical underground in Gridania that helps out people the Conjurer's Guild refuses (like Ala Mhigans, or Seeker clans) - but she doesn't get attached for her own safety and the safety of her patients.

But in all honesty, there is something in there that I realized as I got thinking about her. Her family doesn't have an issue with the fact that she's a chirurgeon - they all are, to some degree, be it conjury or alchemy - and that's not the issue here. The issue is her grandfather, who is still alive.

Gwendoline's grandfather is a patriarch type that maintains the Lacroix name. Gwen's parents were a marriage of business, and he expects of her the same thing of her (which yeah gl, she's a demi-lesbian). I do write that Gridania isn't the most open? It's not as bad as Ishgard, but nowhere as good as Ala Mhigo or Limsa Lominsa, so Gwen is closeted with her family (save her mother, actually). She's 29 in ARR and still not engaged, which drives her grandfather fucking mad because she's an only child. In part this is because she is a daughter and the Lacroix name wouldn't carry on through her unless they got someone who was willing to join the family than the other way around, but also she's doing nothing to further the interests for the family. Again: not a problem that she's a chirurgeon, just a problem she's married to her work and not some lord.

The broken relationship comes in as she prioritizes her chirurgeon work and Warrior of Light work above that of the family. She used to visit her family more often during her adventures in ARR, but that peters off especially after Post Stormblood. That was a long gap of not seeing them and her coming back having helped the Ala Mhigans really pissed her grandfather off given the Autumn War.

But the worst of it was her doing, as a parallel to Surkie's story because yeah I'm being fun here.

The reason why Gwendoline cuts her grandfather off and devotes herself more to The Great Work in Thavnair than any further work with official Gridanian channels (she still does the under the table stuff tho), is because she was made aware that she had an uncle she was never introduced to - because that uncle was disowned. And for what horrific crime was he disowned for?

He married a Duskwight woman.

That's literally it. It's the bullshit Wildwood stuff that no one in her family told her about as that incident got her aunts and uncles significantly tighter knit so that disowning didn't sting as much.

And Gwendoline found out about this through talks with her mother, who told her that Seraphin was a spitting image of Gwen's disowned uncle's lover.

Because that's their kid.

Seraphin is Gwendoline's cousin. They don't realize this until they're in their 30s because Gwen's uncle was disowned and scratched from family records, while that same uncle has been dead for two decades now thanks to the Garlean occupation of Ala Mhigo - one of the victims of the Velodyna clan massacre, of which Seraphin was one of the few survivors at age 4 thanks to the Eldridge family. So while it's not the "oh god suddenly siblings" stuff that Surkie and Katsu have to reconcile, Gwen now has to reconcile that she spent the last few years driving a further wedge between those two sides of her family unknowingly since she and Seraphin did not get along at first, and that was entirely due to the fact that she is a noblewoman and he's the son of war refugees. It caused an ideological clash that took them years to work out. This information just makes it sting all that worse, and understandably so for Seraphin since. I dunno, her side of the family could have had a bit of empathy and thought to reach out, reconnect, and help? But no, the Velodyna clan is now nearly extinct thanks to the Garleans.

So when all of this comes to light, Gwendoline - a very loyal woman to family - refuses to engage with her grandfather. It causes issues with her parents; she's nearly cut out of the family, as well, but this is part of why she pours her focus into Thavnair to help Nidhana as a way of saying to them "You've lost me and I refuse to play a part in this any longer".

So unless her grandfather makes some substantial change, there will be no reconciliation. And hilariously? In that regard, it makes her a lot like her late uncle.

[astrxealis]

once again i love ffxiv and think it's so funny that you have magic so much magic but you have Guns. too.

[miqojak]

Is your OC particularly patriotic? What does their country or other place of origin mean to them?

In her own way, Jak is! Who she was as a person was lost for Ala Mhigo - even the shade of a person she is now knows who her people are... even if the ways in which she manages to support them at times aren't always so... nice, bright, and cheery from the outside looking in. That said, I think she's too hurt to ever return to Gyr Abania/Ala Mhigo, now - as haunting as it might be to walk through the empty rooms of a home you grew up in... how much more eerie to traverse the deserts she once traveled with an immense family - a caravan full! Cities and trading posts will now hold unfamiliar faces, and unfamiliar places as they're re-built after the war; the cries of merchant traders no longer the familiar sound of her own family at work. As many good memories as the sands of Ala Mhigo hold for her... they hold a lot more grief, and I think she's afraid that she'll drown in it, if she goes back.

That place belongs to she who came before: Kesri - not Jak. Easier to set that part of her life behind her, rather than look too much deeper at the reason it all hurts, to begin with.

[miqojak]

Not me eyeing Jak cutting a swath through the remains of Garlemald's people for this exact reason; she calls it anger, vengeance, justice... but it's pain. It's a scream of agony that rebounds off the icy plains of Garlemald right back at her - no amount of fear instilled, no amount of blood, no amount of fury can bring back the dead. What's lost is lost. The relief of vengeance is brief, a bitter pill; an eye for an eye, but you'll never get that vision back... no matter how many more you remove. She knows she has become like those who destroyed all those she loved - she does enjoy the control - the control they took from her for so long. They claimed that 'might made right,' and so she clutches this phrase to her chest as tightly as the memories of her family. Now she has the might, and so doesn't that grant her the right to exact a price for her pain? For the pain of the lives Garlemald stole?

The gunfire wracks her dreams, the artillery startles her awake - years after she has escaped the genocide of her people. The pain strikes when she least expects it... so she does, too. She strikes back, an animal blind with fury in its pain and fear - it's the only thing she knows to do: flash her fangs, and lash out.

I watched an excellent synopsis of The Babadook (by Horror History, on Youtube) recently, and it made me think of Jak - how she, like the mother in the movie, won't face her grief - so it continues to consume her. It manifests for Jak, however, in her Dark Knight powers as her Fray... as a twisted version of a thing meant to bring justice... but what does justice look like to someone stuck in the grief loop, never making it to acceptance? There is only pain, bargaining, denial, anger - all folding in on themselves time and again, festering as any untreated wound does.

She is alone, rooted so deep in her pain that the world around her has become a twisted, warped reflection of her own pain. What else can she be, when she can't see an end to the pain/grief?

there's this specific kind of "bad"/unsympathetic victim narrative that i'm obsessed with when it's executed well, where someone's trauma response is to become increasingly destructive and selfish, at first in the hope that there will be consequences - that someone will follow the broken, bloody trail they're leaving behind them and try to stop them - because that will mean that they've been seen. that someone has finally noticed them, acknowledged their pain, and done something about it. but then, when those consequences never arrive, or are too easily brushed aside, they realise that they're enjoying being in control (or the illusion of control) for once far too much to stop, and start to buy into this delusion they've begun to construct for themselves, where what they're doing is Justified, Actually, because of what they've endured to reach this point. they've long since crossed sunk cost fallacy event horizon. to look back now would be unbearable. which is, of course, when the consequences they cannot so easily ignore arrive, and they're forced to reckon with the fact that they've mistaken the grave they've been digging for a great and gleaming tower, the crumbling walls of which are now starting to collapse inwards on them. it's such an inevitable but compelling tragic route to go down.

[feenabraveheart]

You are [][][][][] '[][][], born a children of the Sands. You grew up tussling and scrapping with the other kids, days spent fetching water from the oasis or scouting for sand worms. Children were lighter on their feet, making it harder for the sandworms to notice your approach. The days were long and the sun was harsh, beating mercilessly down on you, just like how your dad beat the survival and hunting skills into you. Might makes right, he would often say. Become the best hunter first. Then you can be whatever you want to be, wear whatever you want to wear.

You are a young Miqo'te from Southern Thanalan. You took the first ride possible out of Forgotten Springs, perched up on a stack of cargo that tower against the sky. Other hunters prefer to stick to the ground, to better feel the vibration of the sand on their bare soles, but you've always opted for a higher vantage point, choosing instead to nail the prey with a throwing dagger the moment it tries to surface. It's an escort, a long road ahead of them to Gridania, with a nervous driver and a motley crew of hired mercs. They eye you up and down curiously at first, asking questions like "Do all tias here 'ave long hair?" and "so are ye a lass or a lad?". You shrink into yourself initially, but bravely answer their questions head on, your voice quivering. They look at each other, and nodded, and that was that.

That night, they shared their bread with you, and you gave them some sandworm jerky in return. The Hyur made such an incredible face after her first bite that you couldn't help but laugh. The camp followed suit. Then it's their turn to laugh at you when you got your first taste of orange juice. Conversation continued late into the night, until Menphina graced them with her gentle glow. You have the first watch of the night, paired up with the quiet Roegadyn who never much spared you a glance the entire day.

You stare quietly into the darkness beyond the campfire's reach, looking for any sudden movements out of the ordinary. The only sound you can hear is the gentle crackling of the fire, and the driver's snoring. 

The Roegadyn quietly began to speak. Barahearz was his name. He spoke of the lands beyond the desert, of oceans (bodies of water so large they're like a desert for water), of mountains, of snow. Of forests, of plains, of people and creatures both. He wove a fantastical landscape, of cities with spires so tall they seem to caress  the stars, of waterfalls so large cities are built atop of them. You sit there with your mouth open, your duty as a guard long forgotten. You listen and he speaks, in that low, gravelly voice of his, never once looking at you. You realize now, in the dark clear night of the desert, his eyes are bright and twinkles, no less brilliant than any stars in the sky. What you didn't realize until much, much later is that you yourself also have those eyes.

"I think it'll do ye much good to go see the world. See all there is to see, feel all there is to feel. 'Reckon ye would learn lots, and then maybe ye can find out what ye want to become." He concluded. 

What Barahearz didn't know, was that you have already began to realize what you want to become. By being born as something you never asked for (in fact, you don't think you've ever asked to be born in first place), the gaping hole in your childhood has taught you much of what you are not. You're a '[][][], yet you never wanted to be one. You wanted to join the girls, grow your hair long and wear colorful garbs just like them. 

And you told him as much.

Barahearz was silent for a long time after that. 

The escort breaks at a small outpost, nested inside a hollowed out rock formation. Little Ala Mhigo, they called it. A home away from home for those who couldn't adapt to Ul'dahn customs and rejected by the Elementals of Gridania, the cenote opens up to a bright, starry sky. You helped a local lady slay a rockskin peiste for its poison sac. She hands you a vial of the poisoning concoction she made as thanks, as well as a small tub of dye. Colibri pink dye, she called it. Named after the color of a cloudkin. You begin to fish out your wallet, but she waved you off. 

"I've heard your tale from your friends. Your lot could do with a splash of color! Ask - whatshername - Adalind! Ask her to teach you how to use it. She would know!"

And for the first time in your life, it was a haircut you didn't dread having. Adalind had gratefully listened to your wishes, and taught you how to style your hair - a ponytail, simple but effective at keeping the long hair out of the way in battles. She also helped cut your bangs, and taught you how one would color hair. Cold water only from now on! She says to you. Not that you've ever imagined boiling precious water up for a wash, but you engrave her teachings into your heart anyway. 

That night, you came back to camp with a new haircut. The Hyur slaps your back heartily, seemingly pleased with herself. Finnea was her name - she's been this way before, and you later find out over dinner that she's taken the liberty to arrange that little side quest for you. Of course, she chuckles, if you couldn't slay the pieste, you wouldn't get the prize. From then on, she would teach you how to dress, how to talk, how to do your hair. A thousand social cues and customs you needed to learn again, from the ground up. But you are nothing if a quick learner, when the subject interests you at least, anyway.

The escort arrives at Ul'dah, and you get a day's worth of rest as the trader goes about his job, before the group resumes the trek to Gridania. You wander the city, eye trying to wander as much as you can. The sight and smell and sound is almost overwhelming, but you greedily absorb it all, like the coarse sand of the desert. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a medicine merchant leering at you, his smile unnaturally wide.

"Hehehe... Why hello there, lass. Care to make some easy gil?"

You smile politely at him. Is this one of those swindles you're supposed to report?

He offers you coin in exchange for your services as a courier. Before you know it, a phial of precious liquid is in your hands, and the merchant's grin has taken on a hungry, expectant quality. You were to deliver this to a "diminutive gladiator" waiting on the Steps of Nald. You know you shouldn't accept, but you're curious nevertheless as to where this will lead. So off you go.

The Lalafellin gladiator receives you with unadulterated joy, babbling about the alleged transformational wonders of this medicine. A mysterious brew called "Fantasia", he explained excitedly. Drink it before lying down for the evening. and you can awaken as a new man - or a woman! 

....It seems too good to be true.

Or is it?

"Every last gil accounted for. I knew you'd be right for the job. Now for your payment..."

You blinked. Before you knew it, you're back in front of the suspicious merchant (scammer?). The man receives his coin payment with satisfaction when you both notice a burly Hyuran gladiator waving in your direction. You squint at him. Hard to smell people in this crowded city, but something familiar about the way he waves his hand. Almost like someone of a much smaller stature who you just bid goodbye to less than five minutes ago.

....????

You turned back to the suspicious (?medicine?) merchant, bewildered. He looks at you and gives another one of those leering smile. Gods, it would be much easier to trust this man if he worked on that suspicious smile. 

He hands you a phial bearing the same liquid, urging you to try it for yourself, before vanishing into the crowd. So you stand there, in the middle of Pearl Lane, hand cradling a blue phial of unknown origins. It seems to wink at you.

The escort group was initially confused when a Miqo'te lass approached them, and introduced herself as the selfsame hunter that joined the group from the Southern desert. When you explained what happened, Finnea scolded you. Don't drink just about anything random people offers! She smacks you over the head twice, before delivering a crushing hug. Warmth floods you, and tears pinpricks everyone's eyes.

A new name would be good, Barahaerz told you, as he hands you a plate of food. They're at the Quicksands, celebrating your successful fantasia. The results are as real - and permanent - as they come. This was no mere glamour change, after all. You nod thoughtfully. Your happy celebration is interrupted when Finnea barges into the bar and drags you to the Weavers' guild, hells bent on getting a new outfit fit for a Miqo'te lass, in her own words. You laugh and laugh (you dimly notice how much more have you laughed since waking up from that sleepless night), and acquiesce. Maybe coming up with a name can wait.

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

You are Feena Braveheart, Traveler of the Stars, Seeker of the Beyond, Scion of the Seventh Dawn. You have long since casted your sunborn name aside, buried it under the gentle sands of the Sagolii desert. You are mindlessly collecting your essentials as you prepare for another adventure. The astrolabe, the cards, the backup deck, a compass tuned to your house, a sextant. Two day's worth of food hastily grabbed from the pantry and shoved into a small roll that is your tent.

It's late (you are no stranger to operating in these hours) and you're bone tired (also not a stranger to that), but you feel restless. So you gather your things, and set off. Time and time again, you will set off, and come home, only to begin the cycle again and again and again.

For you are a traveler, are you not?

[wyrmwinds]

With the new graphics update, I tried making Koryu SAM an au'ra, one of the concepts I had for them (previously, I didn't like the way raen scales' edges looked on dark skin so I went against it).

They look nice like this! I like the idea of them getting gold limbal rings (if they're truly customizable in-lore like how you can change them with Jandelaine, all the better). Surprisingly, the darkest raen skintone looks more vibrant and lifelike than the one on their midlander version. Still not as dark as I picture them but I really can't do anything about that.

An au'ri Koryu SAM would be half-raen half-hyur, which I think definitely adds to their identity as someone who's already mixed. It would also add some depth to why they're so insistent on inheriting Koryu's power, perhaps to connect to their dragon-looking side.

At the same time. That would mean Koryu SAM's father would be a raen and I always pictured him as a very short man on account of being from hingashi (and the source of their miniscule height). While the inheriting height thing can be explained though the au'ri sexual dimorphism, I just don't like it as much.

[annie-of-my-eye]

Overindulgences | Complete

Chapter Index:

1. Overstimulation (2024-09-30)

Azri'a/Multiple Ala Mhigan Refugees

2. Spit (2024-10-01)

Azri'a/G'raha Tia

3. Orgasm denial + Spreader bar + Restraint/Bondage (2024-10-02)

Azri'a/Aymeric de Borel

4. Humiliation/ Degradation (2024-10-06)

Azri'a/Hancock Fitzgerald

5. Public/Risky/Tight Place (2024-10-07)

Azri'a/Hancock Fitzgerald

6. Worship (2024-10-07)

Azri'a/Meffrid Noward

7. Impact Play/Spanking (2024-10-08)

Azri'a/Hancock Fitzgerald

8. Glory Hole (2024-10-09)

Azri'a/Hancock Fitzgerald; Azri'a/Multiple

9. Catnip Induced Heat (2024-10-12)

Azri'a/Haurchefant Greystone

10. Authority/Rank Pulling + Dealer's Choice Part 1 (2024-10-13)

Azri'a/Begter (squadron); Outsider POV: Madison Fitzgerald

11. Lingerie & Shibari (2024-10-15)

Azri'a/Hancock Fitzgerald

12. Authority/Rank Pulling + Dealer's Choice Part 2 (2024-10-19)

Azri'a/Madison Fitzgerald

13. Cum Play & Free Use & Cockwarming (2024-10-20)

Azri'a/Hancock Fitzgerald; Azri’a/Multiple

14. Put on Display & Gape (2024-10-26)

Azri'a/Hancock Fitzgerald

15. Boot & Catholicism and it's Implications & Breeding (2024-10-29)

Azri'a/Aymeric de Borel

16. BONUS: First Date & A Kiss (2024-10-30)

Azri'a/Hancock Fitzgerald

Kinktober 2024

FFXIV Wol/various

Based on kinktober list by @furaitsu on twitter

Multichapter; ongoing