#Symonnet Desjardoux

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FFXIVWrite2023 - Prompt 23 - Suit

It had always been believed that Symonnet would follow along in the footsteps of his forebears. He would attend schooling at the Scholasticate and then take up the sword for church and country; he would settle down with a bride chosen for him; he would have at the very least an heir and a spare; and when his father was ready to step down, he would take over the mantle of Lord of the Desjardoux family. The older he became, the more disappointing he was to his parents.

They had had to smooth over Symonnet's blunt rejections of various eligible maidens on several occasions, ensuring those families that when Symonnet said, "You have the personality of untoasted bread, and the wit to match," what he really meant was just an unusual joke about how intrinsic bread was to everyday life.

It was, truly, Halone's blessing that none of the offended families had demanded satisfaction. Either that, or the generous gifts bestowed upon their daughters.

Symonnet's golden eyes raked over the fine new clothes that had been laid out for him while he bathed. His parents had been acting more cagey than normal, and now he was facing formalwear bearing far too much white fabric for his comfort. Surely they wouldn't go so far as to invite him to some boring soiree only to spring a ceremony upon him?

Surely they didn't believe such nonsense would actually work.

Symonnet penned a quick letter and gave it to the valet to post. Then he hastily, but efficiently, packed a travel bag. He left the house nearly on the heels of his letter, hoping that whatever magic the moogles possessed would mean it arrived to its destination before he did.

The fine white clothes were left utterly untouched where they lay on his bedspread.

[grumpy-limsan-customs-cat]

“May I come with you?” - the magic nerds

Variety of writing prompts

As much as he knew return home was inevitable - and preferred in the situation he found himself in, the last days spent in the library were always the most difficult.

And, naturally, he hated himself for feeling such a way.

"So...you're leaving tomorrow?"

The low, somewhat tense voice of his companion roused the Seeker out of his thoughts, as his red eyes were stuck burning a hole though the page he had been reading - or been trying to read, at least.

"M-mm, yes. That is the plan. I will depart in the morning, and hopefully will arrive home before sundown."

"...I see."

Home.

The word that used to bring relief and freedom felt strangely empty. Hells, he always loved to return home to his books, where no one judged his daily schedule, where no one excepted him to wake up for breakfast, or step away from work to have dinner.

"---you?"

So why was he so reluctant to leave now? Ishgard was cold, judgemental, a dark city where everyone looked down on the small miqo'te - literally and figuratively. There shouldn't have been anything there to keep him.

Not anything, or anyone.

But, of course, there was.

"---Otte?"

And that someone had finally raised his voice, after a silence that had lingered too long - or at least long enough for Otte to slip back into this dangerous line of thought. Perhaps the elezen's voice was a momentary, much-needed distraction from his inner world.

"Ah, my apologies, Symonnet. Did you say something?"

The Seeker's attention finally lifted towards his host - though perhaps it would've been better if it hadn't. The noble's usual, haughty frown was tense, even a little awkward, lips pursed into a tight line as his pause lasted slightly too long for comfort.

"May I come with you?"

Thud.

Before Otte had the chance to gather himself, the book in his hands had already slipped his grasp, ungracefully dropping onto his lap.

"Come...c-come where, exactly?"

The tall man clearly faltered, if ever so slightly, before seeming to straighten himself once more, and doubled down on whatever decision he had made moments earlier. He even dared to scoff, as if the answer was something obvious.

"Back to Limsa, of course."

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FFXIVWrite2022 - Prompt 06 - Onerous

The melody spiraled away on the air, leaping and dancing almost of its own accord. Surely its maker paid little attention, hands seeking the notes through the repetition of muscle memory. Symonnet had far more important things on his mind. He'd simply found that the act of playing the piano calmed his body and allowed his mind to wear away at whatever issue might be plaguing him or whatever hurdle he might be facing with a spell.

Symonnet was just splitting the geometry in his mind's eye into the crystallized heart of its issue when he became dimly aware of something beyond the piano piece.

"-dy to go. I've been calling your name for half a bell!"

The music stopped abruptly and Symonnet scowled over the rimless lenses of his spectacles. Nathannieu stood over him, arms crossed and foot tapping. "Mother is going to be livid if you don't go dress for dinner right this moment," he warned. "As it is, you're still going to catch hell for the ink stains on your fingers. The ladies she's inviting are expecting an exemplary specimen of nobility, you know."

Symonnet's lip curled. He'd forgotten all about his mother's little soiree. Considering he had far more important things to occupy him, this was entirely unsurprising. Unfortunately, Nathan had a point, and Symonnet was well aware of the lectures that would soon be heaped upon his head.

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FFXIVWrite2021 - Prompt 07 - Speculate

Something was going on with the scion of House Desjardoux. And it was about time, too. The young man, despite his eccentricities and bookishness, was quite a catch; handsome, from a good family, and in line to inherit a decent fortune. Yet every match that had been arranged for him, he had turned down.

But rumor had it, he would be attending House Montpelier's soiree with a plus one.

Who could the lucky girl be? And how many of Symonnet's turned-down, would-be brides were sharpening letter openers and seam rippers to stab her in the back as soon as they had an opportunity?

Imagine their surprise when he arrived with, of all things, a male miqo'te on his arm. There were at least three ladies on fainting couches and another two who got quite embarrassingly drunk that night.

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My dear Otte,

I hope this letter finds you well. All is as to be expected in Ishgard; the weather has been cold, but fine, and there is an anticipation of new snowfall before the close of this sennight. It is truly a wonder that there are not more citizens born with a predilection for ice, what with the city as it has become.

Please find a tome from my personal collection. I came across it whilst organizing and was reminded of your particular difficulties. Perhaps an Ishgardian perspective of the basics will help set you to rights. If nothing else, it is likely not a book you have read and thus provides some novelty.

If you have been practicing your grounding and anchoring your spells then you will likely not need to consider the exercises at the end of each chapter. If you have not practiced or are still finding it difficult, then they may be beneficial. Pay no mind to the fact that it is written for children. It is the fault of your inept tutor that you are in your predicament, not a failing of your talent.

Also enclosed within the front cover of the volume you will find a few of my own theoretical geometries. They are not completely dissimilar from some you showed me before, though I was unable to perfect them for various reasons. There is some possibility that my skeletal beginnings of such spellcraft may overlap yours and highlight the places where more attention is required. I'm sure I could have finished them if I but had the proper time to do so, but they shall serve as practice exercises of a sort for you. Think of them as a bit of homework from your erstwhile teacher.

There is much I must attend to prior to the evening meal, thus I must end this missive. Should you have any inquiries about the book, the diagrams, or other scholarly pursuits you are welcome to write me at this address. I will not expect any return correspondence, however, as I am now familiar with how poorly most Eorzeans communicate without the aid of linkpearls. At least I can find comfort in knowing you are not one of the many illiterate souls down there.

Sincerely yours,

Symmonet Desjardoux

( @grumpy-limsan-customs-cat​ )

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Warm-up Haiku

Tall handsome dhalmel Your personality sucks Insufferable douche

[grumpy-limsan-customs-cat]

Dear Symonnet,

I must admit receiving a letter from you was a surprise, but a pleasant one. With the summer heats taking over La Noscea the people have been swarming the shorelines in droves, leaving little chance for practise without being constantly disturbed. Naturally such circumstances could offer assistance when it comes to controlling my aether - distractions would be aplenty, but alas, I am sure you would agree with my sentiment when it comes to dealing with too many people in the outdoors. To put it short, it is definitely not my cup of tea.

But complaints aside, your letter and the tome have been a godsent, offering me something to practise on without needing to set my foot outside for too long periods of time. It has been fascinating to learn how different the Ishgardian lessons are from the more flexible ways of our Guild, but still in a way similar. Perhaps under Ishgard's harsh tutelage I would've managed to hone my skills slightly better than under my teacher's. One can only wonder.

Speaking of teachers, I have enclosed with this letter the little practise pieces you had sent me, finished with the best of my ability. I have also enclosed sketches of some of the spells we worked on during our brief meeting, in case you'd be interested in taking a look at the changes I've made, and perhaps would be willing to offer more commentary about them. Unfortunately I might've gotten a little too engrossed in drawing all of them and so instead of a couple of sheets of paper, I ended up filling multiple pages on one of my blank notebooks. Feel free to use the remaining space if you so wish.

And, of course, I understand completely if it has been untoward of me to send you my notes in return. If checking my so called homework would intrude upon your free time, I will not take offense if you decide not to write a reply. I am quite aware your daily life must be very busy as it is.

With Regards,

Otte Dreamwalker

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[grumpy-limsan-customs-cat]

The Starlight Elf and the Reindeer.

ft. @ffxivaltstars

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49. What do you masturbate to? To Symon :)

100 NSFW Questions Ask Meme 

There is an irritated sniff from the elezen. “It’s Symonnet, thank you. And this is a wildly inappropriate topic of conversation.” He tries to go back to his book, ignoring the curious ruby carbuncle who has popped its head up from its spot in his lap. He ignores it, that is, until it hops up onto the desk and takes a seat in the center of the tome he’s been reading. It curls its fluffy tails around its dainty feet and chirps. “Fine. Fine I will answer your ridiculous question.” Symonnet pushes his glasses up on his nose and then places his palms flat against the polished wooden desktop. “I do not picture specific things. Unlike those who imagine what their female cohorts might look like without clothes, I find no interest in such things. If that sort of primal itch requires being scratched to allow for the mind to move on to more scholarly topics, then I merely do what is necessary to elicit the desired response. I do not need to form elaborate fantasies in order for my body to find pleasure.” He huffs again and lifts the carbuncle only to deposit it beside him on the floor. “Will that be all, or are there other personal questions you deem important? Impudent, ridiculous, intrusive fool...”

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FFXIVWrite2020 - Prompt 11 - Ultracrepidarian

For how much Jannequinard prattled on and on about stars and cards and the rest of the astrological nonsense he so fervently believed in, one would think that some of it had done more than pass straight through the space between Symonnet's ears. Unfortunately, that was decidedly not the case.

Symonnet stared at the deck of cards in front of him. To call him dubious was too generous. But the young lady who had presented them to him watched with rapt attention as he gingerly picked up the stack and began to awkwardly shuffle it. Had his mother not been hovering nearby to ensure he was mingling, he would have given a curt response and retreated to the library. He was still tempted to do so.

But he supposed he ought to be kind.

"So take your first card," he said, offering the deck once more to its star-struck owner. Leave it to the young, twittering little socialites to become enamored of something so ridiculous. The girl drew, and gasped. The ornately decorated card fluttered from her hand to come to rest on the parquet floor.

"It said 'Death'!" she exclaimed, her lower lip quivering. That alone was enough to make Symonnet scoff despite his previous attempts to hold his tongue. His mother could be as aghast as she wanted later.

"Ah. Yes, you have every right to be terrified," Symonnet agreed, his tone serious. Whatever the cards supposedly meant, he might as well make it up as he went along. "That means you'll die in seven days. I suppose that's what happens when you put far too much faith into an unreliable medium with little to no supporting scientific evidence." He shook his head. "A shame, truly. Now, begging your pardon."

With no real remorse, but feeling his mother's piercing stare boring into the back of his head, Symonnet left the girl weeping over her silly cards. His own interpretation of it all made just as much sense as the so-called 'real' one.

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Symonnet Desjardoux

Ishgardian

Arcanist

Insufferable Twat

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❣ a neck kiss for the Arcanima nerds.

Send in a ❣ for a random kiss

The silence within the room was broken by the turning of pages and the scratching of pens, the two denizens otherwise making very little noise. They sat shoulder to shoulder but said nothing. Instead, both were absorbed in the texts that lay on the table before them. They flipped pages and wrote notes, but rather than oppressive the silence between them was oddly companionable.

Considering where they’d come from initially, that in and of itself was a small miracle.

Eventually, Symonnet closed the book in front of him and stretched. He was starting to get hungry, and the fire needed to be fed as well lest the cold finally win that eternal struggle. He gave the miqo’te beside him a gentle pat on the shoulder to let him know he was getting up, but a passing fancy struck him before he could get to his feet. Instead he let his hand sweep the soft tendrils of red hair away from Otte’s face, then leaned in to lightly touch his lips to the exposed skin of his companion’s neck.

Symonnet climbed to his feet as if nothing had happened, but let his fingers curl a lock of red around them for a moment before letting go and starting to walk toward the fire. “Shall I ring for supper service?” he offered.

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Poro Roggo - What was a significant dream of yours as a kid? For the new dhalmel douchebag!

FFXIV “Creatures of Eorzea” Character Development Prompt! 

“A childhood dream, is it?” Symonnet hummed softly, touching his hand to his mouth as he considered the question. “Though it may have been hypocrisy to some, as a child I never cared about the glory of Ishgard in the same sense as my peers or the older generation. I cared more for being the best that I could be, for no sake but my own.” He lowered his hand, spreading both open in front of him so that he could look down at his empty palms.

“It was my talent and hard work that caused them to label me a prodigy. The city did not do my homework for me. Even the Fury herself did nothing more than perhaps make my mind a little faster than everyone else’s.” A shake of his head, and his fingers curled in against his palms. “I wanted to be seen. I dreamed of being the best student the Scholasticate had ever witnessed and a true master of arcanima.”

After a moment’s pause, the elezen smiled faintly. It was just the slight uptick of the corners of his mouth, but if was still something more than his otherwise impassive countenance. “A silly dream, perhaps. But I did graduate at the very top of my class.”

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FFXIVWrite2020 - The Masterpost

Another year down! I didn’t do all the extra credit days, but I did all the main prompts! And I did at least one prompt for EVERY SINGLE ONE of my 23 characters! I feel very accomplished. Here’s the list of all the writes from this year.

Prompt 01: Crux - Iskar Ejinn Prompt 02: Sway - Sachagal Shonkhor Prompt 03: Muster - Dietrich Frost Prompt 04: Clinch - Haldorn Tyrneyhasyn Prompt 05: Matter of Fact - Riski Chanse Prompt 06 (Extra Credit): Mistake - Riski Chanse Prompt 07: Nonagenarian - T'eirian Tia Prompt 08: Clamor - Khoram'ir Elakha Prompt 09: Lush - L'eirwyn Koa Prompt 10: Avail - Minh'to Suhklah Prompt 11: Ultracrepidarian - Symonnet Desjardoux Prompt 12: Tooth and Nail - Laurens Lalier Prompt 13 (Extra Credit): Frost - Dietrich Frost Prompt 14: Part - L'shirh Tia Prompt 15: Ache - T'iolo Tia Prompt 16: Lucubration - Cam'nahl Zarasten Prompt 17: Fade - Kelaire Theriault Prompt 18: Panglossian - Rhai'li Kherr Prompt 19: Where the Heart is - Basteaux Renaulier Prompt 20: No prompt Prompt 21: Foibles - Rhai'a Kherr Prompt 22: Argy-bargy - Valoq Jhungid Prompt 23: Shuffle - Kaoru Hikigawa Prompt 24: Beam - Daisuke Arisato Prompt 25: Wish - Toshiya Kaizawa Prompt 26: When Pigs Fly - Marron Demullier Prompt 27: No prompt Prompt 28: Irenic - Cam'nahl Zarasten Prompt 29: Paternal - Kelaire Theriault Prompt 30: Splinter - Basteaux Renaulier