#Shoniin Kahkol

[house-vexile]

~The Shaman’s Ger~

[deviant-oreo]

[ Let the Hunt Begin. ]

Like black ichor it wept from his palm...

‘What is inside you?’

Living, breathing, pulsating pulp...

‘All these secrets you keep from me..‘

It’s mere presence installing fear within..

‘I promised to hunt you down.’

Killed in the blue flame and set to his wounds..

‘..I will find you. I will get my answers.’

’And then put you down like an infected dog if I have to.’

[yunegen]

Yunegen speaks with the far too scarce Shoniin.

[algar-malqir]

Qunbish invites the Kahkol to camp. Heleric has received a new gift. Shoniin and Kherem have differing ideas for the present, Yunegen has a suggestion.

[house-vexile]

Would they take the chance to be immortal?

Hmm, I'll go ahead and address the two that might struggle to say no.

Y'asmina finds the witchcraft lifestyle suiting her more and more the older she gets. She finds comfort and strength in surrounding herself with knowledge of the ancient arcane arts, and further still, she enjoys the power that gives her to defend what is hers. The suggestion of being able to maintain that indefinitely, to be granted the opportunity to preserve the old ways while devouring new knowledge endlessly? The temptation would be heavy. However, the finite existence of those around her would weigh heavily against the decision.

Shoniin, on the other hand, has a deep-rooted vengeance against an endless entity. To be able to shed mortality in favor of continuing his fight against the bottomless shadows in his past? Not even outliving his very few friends would anchor him to a limited existence. Rather than fear the passing of time around him, Shoniin would be more concerned about losing touch with what makes one alive. Pain, pleasure, peace and passion - how long would it take for those sensations to numb and fade if the threat of death is removed?

___

Interesting OC Asks

[house-vexile]

Micro story: 12. "candles"

#12 - Candles

"At the rate you're going, we won't be done before nightfall. See to your task, boy."

"This is BORING, Temuulen" the young deep blue Xaela whined, holding up a long bit of string that had barely been coated in a translucent sheath of wax. The youth had more wax on his own fingers, hands and scales from his distracted play than he had on the length of twine. Worse still, the pile of pre-cut lengths of string in his lap were multiples more than the completed candles tied near the door. "It takes forever to make these and they only last a little while. Why can't we just-"

The older pale Xaela next to the boy held up a gnarled hand, bidding the child to cease his foolishness. "No. It is not a tool of convenience. If you suggest magic again, Shoniin, I will set you to cleaning out my ritual bowls." Shoniin made a scrunched face so sour that Temuulen couldn't help but chuckle. "That's what I thought. At least there will be an end to the wax dipping if you set your mind to the work. I doubt your little arms have enough heft to scrub the layers of soot left behind from all the spells I weave."

"I'm plenty strong," Shoniin protested, quickly dipping the wick back into the pot of molten wax before removing it and punging it into a bucket of water at his side. "But you don't clean those out nearly as often as you should and you know it."

"And you don't practice patience as often as you should, my boy. I see we all have our faults." The elderly shaman hummed a note of approval when his charge set back to work with a bit tongue and a huff. At least the boy knew not to contradict a blatant truth. "You are right, though. The soot and grime in those bowls will grow and grow until bits of it break off and ruin my spells or tarnish the bowls themselves. And when that happens, I will have only myself to blame."

Bright blue eyes peeked up through a curtain of navy hair. "…So why not clean them now?"

Temuulen chuckled hoarsely and set to packing dried leaf into the end of a long-stemmed pipe. Amidst a plume of smoke from his lips, the shaman smirked. "Why not do anything but dip those candles?"

Shoniin's shorter tail lifted and thumped on the floor behind him, the sound failing to cover his sigh. "Your lessons are a special kind of painful."

___

Send me a number and I’ll write a micro story using the word or phrase

[house-vexile]

FFXIV Write 2021 Prompt #10 - Heady

‘Please...cease this madness and let me free. I’ll return to the shadows, never to taste the life of another. You have my word!’

The indigo shaman lounged back in the comfort of his pillows and furs, his lips closed around the mouthpiece of his long-necked pipe. The whisper within him was almost too quiet to hear over the rush of air through the end of the pipe and the cracking smolder of the packed leaf succumbing to the searing burn of the embers within.

It was a terrible combination. The swirl of chemicals from his vice swirled lazily through his veins and struggled to fight the high of experiencing a piece of the void expire within him. Granted, that was not the leaf’s fault. Very little thrilled him more than strangling the last bits of aether from a voidsent. One ringed hand slid over the center of his chest, his scarred palm tracing patterns into his own skin.

“Your desperation is so tempting, you know,” Shoniin rumbled to the emptiness of his ger, his exhale disturbing the thick smoke that drifted about between the walls of his abode. “Almost makes me want to let you go.”

Within his torso, the shaman could feel the rise of hope, that greedy grasp for life. That predictable reaction made him smile, languidly bearing his teeth.

“But snuffing you out is more delicious. So within me you’ll remain until I’ve had the pleasure extinguishing you.”

[house-vexile]

FFXIV Write 2021 Prompt #6 - Avatar

The shaman’s sigh came out like it could have been his final exhale. The day was barely half-done and his aether was nearly tapped from the number of wounds and illnesses he’d tended to throughout the day. The flood of needy pleas had only ceased because Shoniin had disappeared from sight, taking refuge behind one of the yurts to find a few moments of quiet before his marathon of work began again.

“Nhaama, when does it end?”

No matter how much he ground his palms against the hollows of his eyes, the circling massage of his hands failed to help release the pressure building up in his skull. His fingers pushed at this temples and forehead to aid the effort, but to no avail. He needed rest. Sleep.

Anything but another handful of bells putting people back together.

The dulled sounds of Reunion at his back formed a steady white noise that at least helped his mind drift in a sort of meditative state, something on the border of awareness and daydreaming. It was as comfortable as he could get, sitting on the hard ground with his head in his hands, hunched over as if in pain himself.

By all rights, Shoniin should have jumped when a hand smoothed through his loose fringe, pushing the dark locks out of his face. Maybe it was his over-exertion that lessened his surprise. Had he truly reached the point of not caring this early in the day? With more effort than he thought he had left, the shaman managed to tip his head back. His company was an old woman, ancient by Xaela standards, marked with the vibrant Questir colors. Despite her wrinkles and time-beaten scales, the white-haired elder carried a strange peace about her, from the crinkle around her glassy eyes when she smiled to the way her hand slipped from his hair to pat his cheek gently. Only once she had his full attention did she rummage through the large back hanging from her shoulder to pull out a skin of some unknown liquid, leaving it at his feet. 

“That’s not necessary,” he started, only to watch the old Questiri woman place a boney finger against her lips to silence him. With another gentle smile that he could only describe as intimately maternal, the old woman made a show of standing up straight and pushing her hunched shoulders back before marching out towards the main life of the village. Shoniin watched her go, speechless for a few beats before a chuckle bubbled up from deep in his chest. Reaching down, he picked up the skin and worked the mouth of it open to take a drink. Water. Of course.

“You didn’t need to come down from the stars and urge me back to work,” he spoke to the sky, knowing she heard him even through the midday sun.

[house-vexile]

cloud. waking up and being soothed back to sleep. (characters of your choice!)

Tink-CLANK. Tink-CLANK.

What a way to be pulled out of the dark embrace of sleep. Shoniin kept his eyes shut in defiance of the unholy continuous forging noises that were happening somewhere near the ger. Each heavier impact made his closed eyelids twitch, his brows furrow.

Tink-CLANK.

Somehow the shaman was not surprised that his awakening would be so rude, but one had to be blessed that his wake-up call had not been a more violent assault of his person. Shoniin had not been an expected visitor, nor had he asked to stay in Kherem’s ger. Rather, he’d been exhausted and in pain from his duties of the night and decided that the walk to his own home was just too damn far.

And the floor of Kherem’s ger was practically built with pillows. It would do. Shoniin would just have to tolerate the headache from all the yelling that was due in the morning.

Tink-CLANK. Tink-CLANK.

Somehow, he’d been spared. The indigo shaman would say a collection of prayers to the Nightmother later for her grace and compassion. For the moment, his body still ached and protested his collection of questionable choices from the night before. The air was still a touch too chilly, hinting to the fact that the sun hadn’t quite risen enough to warm the land. There was the scent of smoke in the air and a not-so-unfamiliar tang of metal that clung to his tongue with each inhale. 

Tink-CLANK.

Even the paced hammer-made heartbeat began to meld into the creation of the new day, enough that the shaman stopped flinching at the sharpened sound. 

It was almost comforting. 

Tink-CLANK. Tink-CLANK. Tink-CLANK.

Dare he say it...almost inviting.

---

((With mention of @deviant-oreo‘s Kherem! Thanks for letting me include him!))

~Rest Prompts~

[house-vexile]

“Please, tell me what’s wrong.” Signed by a silent miqo'te to a certain shaman.

Shoniin often found himself intrigued with the ingenuity of life. The young Miqo’te girl was a constant reminder of such things, particularly how she denied the silence that had been forced upon her by speaking through her hands. It was such an admirable evolution in his eyes, one that often inspired him to learn the language as he’d learned Eorzean. Perhaps, in time, he would endeavor to understand her adapted method of speech, if only to show his appreciation.

“She’s prettier when she doesn’t speak.”

“A thrall does not need a voice.”

Nhaama, but this recent collection was loud and assertive, their rage causing his skin to be tacky with a thin layer of sweat. It was likely what caused the concern in her gilded eyes. It was painted all over her, really. Her fair brows knitting together, the subtle frown that weighed down the corners of her lips. Even her posture, slightly drawn in with raised shoulders, played the part in speaking for her. Even without the mysterious gestures of her hands, the shaman could sense what Kikyo wished to know.

“Nothing is wrong, little one,” he spoke softly, the deep timbre etched with a rough grit. Even as he spoke the lie, the Xaela could feel the coiling of long and lanky fingers around his throat, squeezing to constrict his breathing. Lines of fiery heat burned under his skin as his guests protested violently, rattling the bars of their final cage.

“Let her hear us. We’ll tell her all we’re doing to you.”

“A shame you lie to her. How hurtful.

“She wants to hear about your torture. Regale her.”

It was a brief glimpse of seething rage that set the shaman’s glacial stare alight, bright eyes flaring for a moment as order was demanded in his court. The chirping and barking twisted to agonizing cries that reverberated between his horns. While disturbing to most, the song of anguish was much more pleasing to the indigo Xaela - enough for him to conjure up a reassuring smile for Miss Miyoshi.

“It’s alright,” his voice came again, soft as velvet. A scarred palm raised and he tapped the knuckle of his index finger gently under the Miqo’te’s chin. “I promise.”

Comforting Edition {Sentence Starters}

[house-vexile]

~The Shaman~

[house-vexile]

Kikyo hoped that by writing down what these words, she could translate the silence voice within her to the Xaela. "I find your eyes the most attractive, and yet the most fearsome part of you," the script continued, "..you look at me as if understanding my own thoughts even if I can not offer words. You reach a part of me that is frightened, and in your own way, offer me comfort. They draw me in and mute the whispers of those that lurk in the dark."

Those same set of glacial eyes traced over each neatly written word, his pace slow and careful as he translated the letters in his mind, then the words into his native tongue. The shaman pressed his lips into a thin line, chiding himself over his slipping grip of foreign languages. Shoniin made a mental note to pick up a book on his way back home, if only to consider investing a few moments of study a night for the next moon. It would be a true shame for the skill to fade.

Once past his disappointment in himself, the Xaela could fully grasp the truth written into the words. They carried a bittersweet message for a collection of reasons, but if the shaman had learned anything in his years, it was that the bitter was what made the sweetness such a delight. One required shadow for the light. A moon to contrast the sun.

“You are too kind,” he thundered from deep in his torso, carefully folding the little note and tucking it away for safe keeping. The towering Au Ra leaned at the waist, ducking his head low enough to bring his electric stare down to her level. Shoniin hunted in Kikyo’s coin-colored eyes, sensing that shadow that loomed just behind her gaze.

‘Hello there, you patient and hungry beast. Enjoy the safety in your paradise. For all things are fleeting.’

“Well,” Shoniin continued, each word a low resounding murmur. “So long as you find yourself able to face your fear, my eyes are yours to seek out whenever you need a moment of peace. You have my word.”

                                               ______________

What does your muse think is my muse’s most attractive feature?

[house-vexile]

~A Different Kind of Hunter~

“I am not interested in learning of spells and hexes, Shaman. If that is what you offer, I will seek out another way.”

“What I intend to teach you will not be that. Think of it as...an extension of yourself. An enhancement to your hunting intuition. No spells. No hexes. You have my word.”

It was overwhelming.

The world around her felt saturated, layered with deeper pigments and paints. Shadows were darker, light was brighter. The snap of dried grass beneath her feet rustled as loud as shattering glass. Even the ever constant wind that flowed over the Steppes felt abrasive as it rushed past her horns, dragged over what skin she bared between her armor.

“Look for what is new. What is different. You have seen much of this before in lesser intensity. But you need to pay attention to what your eyes have never seen.

Within the confines of the Shaman’s ger, she had not understood. But out in the open wilds, his words began to fall into place among the assault of her senses. Laced between the vibrant green foliage and the deep umber of the earth, a new layer of paint had been added to the realm. Translucent hazy lines traced paths over rocks and through the brush, twisting up into the crevices of the mountains. Her whole hunting grounds were laced with these trails of faint crimson, like long stretches of blood running down a stream.

How fitting.

“There is strength in you that remains untouched. A heightened sense of being. You need only be willing to reach for that strength.”

“I am willing.”

[house-vexile]

Is your muse very emotionally intimate? ( le shaman please! )

A deep rumble announced the rise of a laugh from the shaman. “Am I emotionally intimate? What a strange question.” It really wasn’t strange, at least not to most people. Shoniin even knew it. He simply did not emulate the concept of a normal relationship. Or rather, he’d not been given the opportunity or the chance to step into such a tender realm of being.

“I am afraid that I haven’t yet met someone with whom I would be willing to be emotionally intimate. There are not many that I would trust with my entire person. And those that I would...I would not place that kind of burden on them. It’s simply not fair.”

~In-Depth Sinday Meme~  (Closed)

[house-vexile]

~Trust System Banners~

Template: ~Here~

[house-vexile]

Looking For Role-play - Master List

More information is available on the character specific tabs or on the House-Vexile Carrd.

Ranya Vexile (Balmung)

Tags: (The Lady of the House)

A Vylbrand native and an invested businesswoman, Ranya is a very strong willed woman with a sharp tongue and little patience for foolishness. A lover of strategy and knowledge, the redhead is a powerful ally...or a very dangerous opponent.

Hooks:

Are you a craftsman or guard/mercenary? Ranya is often looking for additional business opportunities to add to her list of investments.

Limsa Lominsa native? Ranya’s family has spent near all of its history in that area. You might know her or her family, or she might know your name.

Do you like chocobos? She does too! She raises a small handful of them on her property.

Do you like books? You haven’t seen her house. She collects them. Compulsively.

Any individual with a disciplined lifestyle, or a driven mindset will likely appreciate Ranya’s more logical and utilitarian way of life.

Phenalyn Talavaine (Balmung)

Tags: (The Flightless Dove)

A kindhearted, compassionate healer and artist who is intimately connected to both nature and the spirits. A gentle soul with a hearty dose of nervousness.

Hooks:

Do you like nature? Animals? Plants? Spirits? Phen will love to chat.

Do you like history, particularly captured in ruins or in art forms? She studies these sorts of things.

Healing magic is always a safe way to go with this lady. She’s quite adept.

Have you traveled the world? Been to faraway places? She’ll LOVE hearing about it.

Y’raos Nunh (Balmung)

Tags: (Amber Rage) (Firebrand)

A brooding, hard-working and intense male from the Jaguar clan. The Nunh is a loving father, a protective brother, an invested husband and a beast of a fighter. In more ways than one.

Hooks:

Tribe life. Raos is the leader of a clan currently recovering from some bad leadership by the hand of the former Nunh. He’s open to conversation regarding it.

Parenthood. Y’raos is the father of four children, three his own and one adopted. He loves his family, and respects a family-minded individual.

Vylbrand - Y’raos and his people recently completed the move back to their former home along the beaches of La Noscea. One might have seen their developing village.

Y’asmina Malha (Balmung)

Tags: (Golden Brands) (Stormcaller)

A tribe witch with a fiery spirit and ritually branded skin. A bit of a wildcard…and a woman who seems to be too aware of the preciousness of life.

Hooks:

Interested in magic? Y’asmina practices quite a few different kinds of magic. Some known, some less so.

Do you like adventuring? Mina is the curious sort who likes the sensation of spontaneity.

From a tribe? So is Mina. Doesn’t have to be the same tribe, she’s still likely interested.

Is your character more rough around the edges? All fine by Y’asmina. She likes the more…weathered, morally questionable sort.

Khai Tumet (Balmung)

Tags: (The Huntress)

A quiet, unapologetic huntress who has returned to her home with the hopes of restoring her tribe name.

Hooks:

Xaela culture is always a safe way to go with Khai. Just don’t insult it and she might talk to you.

Hunting is also an easy topic and a quick way to get her to talk.

Painting. Khai paints quite a bit, and while she isn’t classically trained or interested in learning, she enjoys sharing the passion.

Shoniin Kahkol (Balmung)

Tags: (Night Magic) (The Cage)

A travelling shaman of the Kahkol tribe, interested in gathering the lost of the Steppes and guiding them home. Seemingly patient without limitation, he is equal parts welcoming and guarded.

Hooks:

Xaela culture also works with Shoniin. He’s familiar with all of the tribes, and is willing to teach people who care to learn.

Magic. While he may not care to learn the ways of others, he has an interest in the way other aether users channel their skills.

Jewelry and body modification - Shoniin is heavily pierced, enjoys piercing/making jewelry, and is able to tattoo those who desire it…albeit in more primitive ways.