#Tales of Minfilia.

[toadeyes-miqote]

Taking inventory 5

Yes Kitchen duty scene. That fleeting moment of happiness. If you skip flavour text, you'll kinda miss it.

If you see F'lhaminn and Thancred making eye contact with each other. It was an accident and I kept it.

[faragonart]

"Alas... I can no longer walk this path with you... so promise me this. Tell me you will live your life, make friends anew, share your heart with someone special...

...for this is only the beginning of your long, long road..."

[elizabethrobertajones]

"Ah, Jane, a word with thee," Urianger called, stopping her attempt to sidle past unnoticed.

"W-what do you want?" she asked, as always somewhere on the nervous-to-panicked scale when presented with the sinister false prophet.

"Now that my deception hath been unveiled, there is much I must ask thee about the holes you claim twisteth like knots in the thread of your memory, for I have learned answers to questions you know not to ask."

"Um. S-sure." She glanced back and forth between Thancred, who was impassive but seemingly unconcerned with swooping in and rescuing her from this particular fate, and Papalymo, who smiled encouragingly and gave her a little nod. She was left with no one to save her from being lead to a quiet table in the corner of the Rising Stones.

She balled her fists on her knees to stop her shaking hands from betraying her, and studied the flame of the candle between them; the familiar whisper of fire brought some comfort even if Y'shtola and Krile had tactfully withdrawn for their privacy at a nod from Urianger, and left Jane utterly abandoned of friendly faces.

He didn't say anything, but stared, inscrutable, until she couldn't take it any more. "What?!" she demanded.

"Perhaps it would be best if you were to once more regale me with thy tale of thy flight from Ishgard, and the last things you remember of that night."

Her eyes widened even more than their normal darting state. "Umm, why? The Warriors of Darkness weren't there, were they? Were they?"

"Nay, I believe they arrived but recently. It... it is Elidibus's comments that have left me pondering."

She stared at him. Behind his goggles, he presumably stared back.

"And?!" Jane finally demanded.

"'Twould seem he had more than passing knowledge of thy situation, and called thee not Warrior of Light, but 'The Runaway' more than once. Indeed, I was not sure you were one and the same until thy path did cross with mine own schemes."

"I... I guess I did run away from Ishgard. Why would he care about that?"

"And that is why I bid thee recount thy tale once more."

She sighed, and sunk deeper into the chair, eyes once more darting to the warm candle flame. So much had happened since that night; so much of her perspective on the world had been changed, by force, by others and by scenarios she never could have dreamed of while selling potions from her parents' stall in the Jewelled Crozier.

Were the words she'd use now be the same as how she had first told it in shaky terms to Minfilia, lured by Thancred's assurance that she knew everything. That she could give all the answers to why Jane's dreams manifested the visions they did. And Minfilia had known almost nothing, told her only of the Echo but not of her own history, and left her to fend for herself. Left them all, now. And Urianger, mysterious and cryptic at the best of times, had pulled all those strings... And seemed at last to be someone who maybe did know more than they let on.

She swallowed.

"They were buying poisons from us. The heretics. I - I didn't know that. I just sold the ingredients. B-but they showed up when my parents weren't there. Left me in charge. A-and they made me feel like I was friends with them all. I thought some of them was highborns from the way they dressed, and some of them was knights from the way they walked, but they were fashionable, and charming, and... and I was just enjoying their attention. And they'd hang around for a bell chinwagging and scaring off boring customers, and when Temple Knights came by they'd buy something off the stall right quick and melt away laughing. I wanted nothing more than to go with them, but I - I didn't want to disappoint my parents."

"I'm sorry, Jane," Urianger said, startling her out of her reverie. He seemed to mean it, his hand falling back to his side like he had reached for her and thought better of it before she had looked up.

She shook her head. "What's done is done. They're at the bottom of Witchdrop and I'm here. I got Aymeric to look to see what happened to them, you know. And he couldn't even look at me. I know it was bad." She shrugged. "They got framed for poisoning the old Lord Commander and the Inquisition moves fast. There's a leatherworker in our old stall, now. I went and looked but I was too scared to see if the first coins were still under the loose cobble under the stall. If I got seen sneaking back at midnight to the scene of the crime, I don't know if even Aymeric would have seen fit to listen and pardon me."

"First coins?"

"You know, when you start a business and the first thing someone buys, you put the coins somewhere safe, for luck." She sniffed, and rubbed the back of her hand over her eyes. "Don't know why I'd want them anyway, come to think of it."

He nodded. "An ill omen to carry with thee, indeed."

She glanced up and gave him a strangled kind of smile, before returning to examination of the candle. "So that night. When the Lord Commander died. I think they knew they framed us; they wanted to ruin my family. I'm sure of it. They came right to me as I was folding up the stall, and told me to come with them, and I didn't even see how scared they were, I was so chuffed to be invited anywhere. I just followed them right down into the Brume."

"And then?" Urianger prompted.

She started, glancing around once more. "I don't know if telling you this is going to make me in even more trouble, but there's more than one way out of Ishgard. A couple of paths to the Highlands and all right sketchy tunnels. Smugglers and such use them, as well as the heretics. But you know when you get down there, nothing's safe anyway. Vilekin everywhere, caves full of bats. And all frozen over and infested with elementals since the Calamity to boot.

"I didn't know where we were going, thought they had a hideout or something when they opened a hatch under a barrel at the back of a house. But it was a tunnel and they were pushing me along it. And I realised how freaked out they were. The highborn one, the mage, he was really shoving my shoulder to make me walk even when my boots were slipping on the ice that was all over the ground. And then I think I heard the Temple Knights, and they made us run. I weren't the only one who slipped, I stopped to help one of them up, and we got behind the rest of the group.

"And then there was a dead end where the rock had collapsed, and they were all shouting, and making us go back, and then the Temple Knights were right behind us, so we got to some real steep stairs, over the Abyss. Even afore you got to it you could hear the winds sucking you towards it. And the highborn mage stopped, right there at the top of the stairs, and said, I'll hold them off. And - and his face. He... I didn't know what it was then, I was so scared. I'd never seen it before, you know. It was the Ascian glyph, and he was doing a summoning. I was trying not to slip on the stairs but I looked back because I felt the dark magick and I knew he was doing something really bad, and I was right where it was so slippy, and I looked at him and made eye contact and I know he was summoning a voidsent, but - that's the last thing I remember. I think I slipped; I think one of them must have carried me.

"It was three days later in Fallgourd Float when I next knew anything. An Ul'dahn merchant found me on the side of the road, unconscious; he thought the Dullahans had got me but I'd been lying there a while and they hadn't hurt me, so I don't think they cared to be quite honest. Anyway, he took me to the inn, and when I woke up I was so scared that we were anywhere near Coerthas when he offered to take me home I paid him all I had to take me to Thanalan instead. A-and that's where I was when Thancred found me and I ended up meeting swivin' Ascians everywhere."

"Did you recognise the Ascian who was amongst this heretic group?"

She shook her head. "One of those low level ones with the boring glyphs. I never saw one of that gang when we met all those heretics when we were investigating Iceheart, or since I went back to Ishgard. I was too scared to ask Ysayle if she knew them. Or. Or I didn't want to know. In case she said she didn't. But the more we learn the less I think she would've."

Urianger nodded thoughtfully. "I suspect they knew not who you were either, but sensed your latent Echo or some other sense of your destiny, and attempted to protect you for later use. I know not what other schemes Elidibus has, for I was allowed only to know the scantest details beyond that which I was charged for mine own deceptions. But between his manipulation of the Warriors of Darkness, and that which Unukalhai unfolded of his history as Elidibus's apprentice, I suspect he may have many other agents as yet unknown to us; many that he cultivateth for purposes as yet unknown even to himself, for their schemes speak both of long planning and sudden, spontaneous meddling. Perhaps thy presence in this long-planned poisoning scheme to throw Ishgard into disarray led to a desire to cultivate thee as well; in losing you they drove you to the bosom of the Scions instead, and thus does Elidibus muse on your presence, nay, even ask if I am aware of thy heresy in Ishgard."

"Aymeric did drop the charges and issue a full apology to my family," she said, pouting.

Urianger laughed softly. "And we are glad to have thee amongst us as a free agent, and many of thy fears allayed."

"But you still don't know what happened to me. Those three days between Ishgard and Fallgourd Float?"

He shook his head. "I wonder if the summoning did more to unsettle thee than thou thinkest; that you did not slip, but some other dark force came upon thee, given the affinity of thy magicks to the umbral and destructive, and the comfort with which you commune with voidsent. But as you had never chanced to see one until that day, there is no way to know if this is an innate ability, or one that has come upon thee as a result of thy travails."

She scrunched her nose, and looked away. "Well then. I guess I still know nothing. Wish I could just ask Elidibus if he did something to me, you know? I don't want to be cultivated."

"Mayhap a time will come when you may ask him for the answers you seek. If it reassureth you even a small measure, it seemed to me that he was both unsettled and somewhat scared of thee."

"Good." She pushed herself up out of the chair, and stretched. "Well, thank you, Urianger. I need to go... elsewhere now. But. Thank you."

He smiled at her, and for the first time he didn't completely terrify her down to the core. Unfortunately, his words had done that instead, and she felt nigh on close to crawling out of her own skin to remove herself from his presence regardless of it were his fault or his words.

Maybe it was time to return to Ishgard for a spell and enjoy her new freedom.

[anneapocalypse]

On Urianger in ARR.

I'm not sure I agree with what seems to be a popular opinion that Urianger is more cryptic in ARR. I think he's actually just not as cryptic as the reputation the precedes him, period. Pretty much everything he says in ARR has a pretty clear intended meaning when you understand the language he's using to say it.

The times I think he truly comes across as cryptic (as in, what he's saying does not have a clearly discernible meaning and is open to some kind of interpretation) is when he's quoting someone. When we first meet him in the Waking Sands, he greets us with a quote from Louisoix, which while maybe a little overly formal or socially awkward relative to the other Scions, isn't really inappropriate to the situation. Nor is the quote he chooses especially cryptic, though he doesn't get through the whole thing because Minfilia gives him a Look and he swiftly course-corrects and says, "The words of a dear friend. I am glad of our meeting," which is a pretty straightforward greeting. His diction is archaic and poetic, and sometimes a bit verbose, but that's not the same thing as cryptic. (Compare this to the verse he quotes in Stormblood to see the Scions off the Far East, which is far less clear in its meaning and how exactly it's supposed to aid you.)

When Urianger is indirect in his own words, there is usually a reason for it beyond just trying to sound mysterious. I think a good example of this is his dialogue in the Waking Sands as the Scions are preparing to leave for Revenant's Toll, and Urianger will be staying behind:

Urianger: Thou art ever welcome, Forename, but I require no assistance. Pray take thy leave unburdened by concern for my well-being. Urianger: Verily, thy countenance bespeaks a desire to quit this place without further delay. Hm. Mayhap thou thinkest this chapter of our tale concluded─that these halls should rightly be consigned to the annals of history...? Urianger: In man's eagerness to seize the future, how readily he doth set down the past. Urianger: Full many a proud pioneer hath bravely stridden into the great unknown, only to find there the banner of his ancestor, faded by the eons. And still man glorieth in his discoveries. 'Tis through his pride that wisdom doth ever give way to ignorance, while they who lurk in shadow remain hidden, lost no sooner than they are found. Urianger: <sigh> Be not offended, Forename. Thy conduct hath ever been beyond reproach. Despite thy surpassing strength, and all thy many victories, thou hast never been so convinced of thine own greatness as to imagine thyself above the failings of thy forebears. Mayhap it is the Echo which hath opened thine eyes to the lessons of history. Would that the same could be said of─

Here, he is concerned that the Scions are ignoring the lessons of history and heading down the wrong path, though he assures the Warrior of Light that he finds no fault with their actions. The object of his criticism is pretty clearly the decisions being made by Alphinaud and Minfilia--both of whom he respects too much to directly tell them he thinks they're fucking up, and yet he comes really close to saying it directly to the Warrior of Light here, before he's cut off by the scream from the Solar. I don't see this moment as him being cryptic nearly so much as him wanting to share his concerns directly but stopping just short because he feels it improper to do so. That he confides even this much to the Warrior of Light to me really speaks to the fact that he already places a lot of trust in them.

But beyond that rare moment, most of the time in ARR, he's just... answering questions, providing information, or asking the WoL to do stuff.

Urianger's writing in parts of ARR and particular the early primal quests has some oddities in its own right--there's multiple places where modern English conjugations slip in, and a rare instance of Urianger saying "Yes" rather than "Aye" (if you know of others, I'd love to see them!). And the writing is really inconsistent about using "thine" before a vowel instead of "thy," sometimes even within the same paragraph. It's kind of all over the place when you really look closely at it. I can only assume the English writing team at the time was shaky on Early Modern English and whoever was writing him wasn't getting consistent direction and editing.

But what I wouldn't call any of it is cryptic. His dialogue about the primals tends to be a bit long-winded, and peppered with effusive praise for the Warrior of Light, but it's not cryptic; in fact, it would be counterproductive for him to be cryptic, because he's trying to give you intel. He doesn't even really do much prophecy quoting at all; he likes to cite that particular Louisoix writing about "primal desires" and the "blade born of light," which I think he definitely sees as prophetic and the Warrior of Light as fitting that appellation. But his meaning is never obscure or ambiguous. Frankly, I wonder if the writing team was struggling with what to do with him now that the mysterious doomsayer persona he was playing in 1.0 was no longer necessary for the story, and the new role chosen for him was one of conveying fairly straightforward information. Perhaps this is what led to the idea of having him play a deceptive role in post-Heavensward, in order to bring some mystery back to the character, though I can only speculate.

If he seems more straightforward in later expacs, I venture to say the reason is twofold. First, you're just more used to hearing him talk; you've picked up on some of his speech patterns if you were previously unfamiliar with them, and his meanings are easier to parse. And second, as the story proceeds, Urianger's role in it grows both larger and more personal. While his dialogue in ARR isn't actually cryptic, you might not have much investment in it and be inclined to hastily click through without reading it as carefully, leaving the impression that it was more impenetrable, while in later expacs, you might be more invested in him as a character and thus listening more closely to what he has to say.

[wilanserulia]

FFXIV Write 2024 - Prompt 24 - Bar

“Would you put that godsdamn drink down and LOOK AT ME!?” It was more than a little uncharacteristic for Wilan to lose his temper like this, but his mounting sense of urgency was clashing violently with the relaxed atmosphere of that peaceful beach bar, cradled by the gentle waves of Costa del Sol’s beach. The burly veteran, however, didn’t seem to share the same urgency.

He was a Roegadyn by the name of Wheiskaet. Nowadays he was a personal guard to Gegeruju, but Wilan remembered him from before the Calamity as a member of the Company of Heroes, a group of adventurers who worked independently from Minfilia’s organization to slay Primals. They weren’t even blessed with the Echo. While he had never met them himself, he remembered one time when Nessa and he had hiked all the way to O’Ghomoro to slay Titan, just to find out that by the time they got on the scene the Company of Heroes had already dealt with him.

Wheiskaet took his sweet time gulping down his ale. The more Wilan fumed, the more he seemed to enjoy testing his patience. It was only when he could see the bottom of his tankard that he so much as glanced in his direction. “Oh, it’s you again.” he acknowledged him, as if he had just noticed him. “What was it that you wanted, again?” “TITAN!” Wilan screamed furiously, making even the bartender flinch. Wheiskaet, however, was nonplussed.

“Ooohh right, right” he said, irritatingly drawling the words “You’re that hotshot adventurer trying to take a shortcut to fame and glory. Wilian or something.” “Wilan.” he corrected him through his teeth. “And look, as I’ve told you before I’ve spent the last eight years of my life adventuring, believe me I’m not in it for the fame.” “Right.” He replied sardonically “You’re a veteran, I can tell. No doubt many basements can claim to be free of vermin thanks to your heroic intervention. Your mother must be proud. But this is a Primal we’re talking about.”

It had only been a few weeks prior that Wilan had learned that in the wake of the Seventh Umbral Calamity the island he hailed from had been erased from the nautical maps. His mother, his brother, his father, and everyone else he had known back home were dead, victims of Bahamut’s fury. He hadn’t yet allowed himself time to grieve. And now it was not the time, either. He pushed that pain back down into the depths of his soul.

“Look,” Wilan said through clenched teeth, in a considerable effort to remain calm. “I’ve slayed Primals already. I know how this works.” “You have certainly claimed so.” Wheiskaet said, slouching come comfortably on his stool, with the face of somebody getting ready to enjoy a performance. “Ifrit, was it?” “And Garuda.” Wilan growled in response. “And King Moggle Mog the Twelfth.” The Roegadyn snorted. “You’ve made that moogle one up, didn’t you?” He turned around to loudly laugh with the barman, who awkwardly joined him. He became serious all of a sudden though, leaned forward and inquired. “As for Garuda, well... that’s an interesting tale. I’ve heard no reports of the Ixali attempting a summoning.” “Not recently, you idiot. A couple yea–“ he caught himself as he was saying it. “I mean, some seven years ago.” Wheiskaet lifted an eyebrow, as if he had heard a really good joke. “Seven years ago? But I thought you have been an adventurer for eight? What, you claimed a victory on the Lady of the Vortex in your teens?” …Gods damn it, Louisoix.

Granted, he could have told him about being at the battle of Cartenau Flats, the day Dalamud Fell. He could have told him how Louisoix Leveilleur invoked the power of Althyk to spare him certain death. And he could have told him of how he was propelled five years forward in time from that fateful moment. Somehow, though, he felt like saying the truth was going to make Wheiskaet even less likely to believe him. Still, Gods above, this condition had been nothing but traumatic so far. Before today it never felt so... utterly infuriating.

“Look, all I need to know is how to reach Titan’s lair. Instead, all you’ve done is sending me on fool’s errand after fool’s errand, running me ragged, all while people’s lives are at stake! What the fuck is wrong with you!?” At this, Wheiskaet stood up, his Roegadyn build towering over Wilan’s. “Aye. People’s lives are at stake. Including yours.” he growled, his voice sounding more serious than it had their entire conversation. “I’m not going to send some untrained fool to die under the heel of the Lord of Crags.” “Untrained–“ Wilan’s blood started to boil. “Who the fuck are you calling an untrained fool!? I was part of the raid to take Castrum Novum!” He screamed confrontationally, pointing a thumb at his own chest. “I joined the Grand Companies’ operation in Rivenroad!” One step forward, his voice rising even louder, his eyes screaming bloody murder. “I killed Nael van Darnus myself!”

Wheiskaet regarded him with his arms crossed, never backing down a single step, waiting for him to finish his speech. Only then, with a smirk, he said: “If you’re such a big deal, how come I’ve never heard of you?”

Wilan choked a frustrated scream into his hands.

[sayonaramidnight]

Hmmmm maybe Aymeric about Rinoire? Or Minfilia about Helvi?

He was pleased to see that the tales of her skills with pole-arms were not exaggerated - not that he would ever doubt in the words of his old friend or the Champion of Eorzea - and yet he could not help but wonder about her reasons for becoming a dragoon. She was already sworn to her Grand Company in Ul'dah, and much as she had been eager to join the battle at the Steps of Faith, it was plain to see she treated it as... well, a job, rather than a holy duty.

She did not seem to worship any deity in particular, not just the Fury, and refused to talk to any clergymen.

"My relationship with religion is pretty complicated," she admitted, when he asked her about that, "The thing is, my parents were an inquisitor and a heretic, assigned to spy on each other," she spoke in a flat voice and her uncovered eye did not express anything, "I had to watch them fight to death at the tender age of two".

As she finished speaking, she gazed at him in silence. Expectantly.

"You're..." He swallowed the first word that came into his mind. "You're jesting, aren't you?"

"You've noticed. Well done," her smirk seemed mocking, but there was no malice in her voice - he might have even trace a shade of appreciation there, "Actually, I have my reasons not to trust the men and women of the cloth," she winced and gave out a small huff, "Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against the higher powers who may not even care about my opinion. Just the people who claim to speak on their behalf. I was raised in Gridania, after all".

He nodded thoughtfully. Little did Ishgardians know of Gridanian religious affairs, it would do no harm to look closer at them at a later time. Right now, he had an opportunity to test her, just like she was testing him. "Still, you agreed to help Ishgard against the dragons. Does it mean you trust us, Lieutenant Noirterel?"

"After I learnt you rely on a bloody ancient dragon to gaze at your knights and pick his own slayer? Not in the slightest".

To his own surprise, he gave a small chuckle. "Pray, do not... Wait, which of your parent was an inquisitor?"

"Let me think... My mum".

"Pray, do not say those things in front of your mother's brethren".

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

I meant it when I told her she was my pillar of strength. Then why did she look pained?

True, I know she does not enjoy going into the fray - but still, she does not hesitate, when that is what it takes. That is, however, not the reason why I told her that - why I allowed myself being weak with her, which I hardly ever do, even with Thancred. Perhaps especially with him.

She is my pillar of strength not because she slays Primals, but because she she works towards alliance with the beast tribes - even though she insists she's "simply helping a little" - which has long been a dream of mine. Because Lhaminn has some fond memories of her. And because I can watch her work and chat about gemstones whenever we have time.

We may be Hydaelyn's chosen, but we must remember to be people beside being heroes. That is what she reminds me to be when she is around - which does not happen often enough and I am the only one to blame for it.

I hope she keeps doing the same for the others, when our Mother calls for me.

NPC PoV asks!

[inquisitormanatee]

Nuvenin Umbre

DOB: unknown - by default his age is unknown but he appears in his mid 20s Birthplace: unknown Viper - Dragoon Song inspo - Tale of the Shadow by Sail North Info: originally Nuvenin was a Wol but then I decided to incorporate him into Syl'tal's world. The song above is what stirred him into existence because I had a general idea of wanting a pirate OC that was chaotic evil. He is extremely manipulative and cruel. I'm not going to go into detail with everything but he's a Bad Dude.

In the beginning When Nu first shows up, he comes off as charming and helpful. He leads the scions and WoL to believe that he is there to fight with them and against the Ascians. Not a lot is known about him and he answers personal questions vaguely or with his own answers to steer the conversation away from him. What is known is that he is a pirate, enjoys a good time, and is stupid rich from trading goods.

Nu worms his way into becoming a bit of a figure amongst the scions. His goal was to be a needed resource and he achieved it by becoming close to Minfilia (very close). Nu led Minfilia to believe he had an endless supply of knowledge of the Ascians by giving little bits of information here and there. Syl'tal, Y'shtola, and Thancred were extremely suspicious of Nu from day one but couldn't pin-point why. Him having all of these random facts didn't help that.

Over a significant period of time (ARR through SB), Nu does make himself a valuable resource to the scions. Suspicions are still there but he has, so far, only done things to help them against their fight with the Ascians. His interactions with Syl'tal are usually jabs back and forth with jokes spread in there; it's clear they don't get along but they tolerate one another.

When Nuvenin isn't traveling with them, he spends his times with Elidibus. It becomes clears to the ancients that the only one he'll listen to is Elidibus which is really frustrating because otherwise he just goes about his day doing what he wants. It's unclear to him and everyone else why he listens to Elidibus and deep down, Nuvenin hates it because it's a weakness and that is not what he wants.

His whole driving force is that he wants to be strong and the most powerful being to exist. All his life, from what he knows of it (important to remember), he has been put down and thought of as nothing. In his teenage years, he vowed to change that and did so in a very bloody and brutal way.

Flashback time! Nuvenin's earliest memories are of him and his sister, Loreley, being raised on a ship. He was born into the pirate life and that's the only thing he knew. He wanted to keep Loreley safe and when he started concocting his plan to instigate a mutiny, he didn't want her in the middle of that. At the age of 13, Nuvenin left Loreley with the dragons in Dravania when she as 10. Two years later he started that mutiny and took over the ship. In the next four years he learned of a "blessed" ship called the Queen's Secret and made it his next goal. At 19 he accomplished that goal and witnessed his crew die before him when the ship cursed him. His first mate, D'artagnan, was with Nuvenin through all of this and was sucked into a void when everyone around him was dying. He was forced to make a contract with the curse bearer and sent back. If you look close, you'll see that one of his eyes is pink. In the process of obtaining the ship, Nuvenin's right eye was taken, given to D'art, and replaced with an eye that is linked to the ship. D'art and the ghost of the crew are unable to leave the ship but because of Nuvenin's eye, he has a direct line to the ship. He's able to essentially "feel" it and knows when something is wrong on board and he is not there.

After all of this happens, Nuvenin is approached by Elidibus and joins the Ascian's cause. He doesn't know why he does it but there's a pull (to Elidibus) that makes him do it. He's working with them for a few years up to when ARR begins.

End flashback! Skipping ahead to ShB, shit starts hitting the fan for Nuvenin. his secret comes out and it's bad bad. To begin with, he is able to pass into The First like the WoL is. This is a pretty big "what the fuck" moment for the scions because how can he do that? While there, Nuvenin starts getting blips of memories. Like the echo does to the WoL, these memories come with a headache and feeling of nausea so it's like a gut punch for Nuvenin. The memories are scattered and broken and extremely confusing. It all eventually comes out when he makes it to The Tempest and ultimately, Amaurot.

When he makes it to Amaurot, it's like an explosion of information. Nuvenin learns that this is his home and he is, in fact, an Ancient just like Emet-Selch and Elidibus. He goes on to learn that Loreley is not his sister but a part of himself that he split off. He created Loreley to house all of the emotions that he viewed as weak. He also learned that he was in love and the downfall of that is what drove him to create Loreley so that he wouldn't stop fulfilling his ultimate wish: be the strongest on all the stars.

Flashback agaiiiin As an Ancient, Nuvenin had a different name. He was Dolus and boy howdy was he in love.

Themis became the most important person in his life, he'd do nearly anything for him. However, it was all done in a very very twisted way. Nuvenin did not, and still doesn't, believe that he can be loved. So. When he had his eyes set on Themis, he used his go to, manipulation, to make it happen. They were together for a good period of time before Themis did catch wind of what was happening, what Nuvenin was planning, and how he would achieve that. Nuvenin had the grand idea to follow what Hermes was doing and then find a way to take control of it an use it for his own gain. He and Themis had very different opinions on what "justice" means and it lead to Themis recognizing the manipulation and breaking things off with Nuvenin. This was a wake up call for Nuvenin because he realized then that he didn't actually have to manipulate Themis and that there relationship was very real and not it was gone.

Back to ShB time Nuvenin also learned that he tricked himself. Nuvenin has the ability to implant false memories into anyone, including himself. he did this when he landed on The Source because losing his home, Themis, and everyone was something he struggled to handle. Nuvenin understands his pull to Elidibus and the other Ancients and why their cause felt so close to home for him.

When all of this comes out, Nuvenin loses it. He goes full Azula menty b and nearly kills Exarch but is stopped by the WoL. This is a flurry of emotions because while on The First, Nuvenin can't figure out why he is feeling some type of way towards The Exarch. There are periods before all of this where they share deep conversations and seem to grow close. When he catches these moments, Nuvenin becomes abrasive and pulls away from Exarch.

When everything is "resolved" in ShB, Nuvenin is gone. The scions have no idea where he is until EW happens. They learn that Nuvenin was bouncing between The First and The Source. Nuvenin spent a significant period of time in Elpis where he was trying to make sense of everything while also getting the opportunity to see Themis. Due to not looking like he did as an Ancient, Themis didn't know who he was except that there was something familiar about Nuvenin.

A really huge thing that happens is that Elidibus, who was locked in the Crystal Tower, and Loreley set up the death of Loreley to force Nuvenin to take that part of him back. Elidibus has the memories of Themis that new Nuvenin and doesn't want Nuvenin to be split into two. He feels that Nuvenin would alter his plans if he was whole again. Nuvenin is obviously against the whole thing but doesn't get a choice when Elidibus nearly kills Loreley and the only way to save her is for Nuvenin to take her back. He does and the impact this has on Nuvenin is significant. He's down for the count for an extended period of time and this ultimately leads to how he is captured by the scions.

Nuvenin is bounced between being locked up and tethered to the scions. He is forced to help end everything with Zodiark which is a massive defeat to him. When this happens, it's the second time he felt like he has truly lost (the first being when Themis and him broke up). Feeling defeated, it's not exactly hard for the scions to just drag him around to keep an eye on him. While the WoL is MIA after EW, he is being watched like a hawk. In this time, it's G'raha that approaches him first like he isn't a wild animal.

They spend time talking, a lot of time talking. Nuvenin isn't an open book but he is sharing more about himself than he had previously but only to G'raha. Over these conversations, Nuvenin comes to realize that G'raha reminds him of Themis. This is quite upsetting to him and he does lash out at G'raha who only sits there and lets it happen knowing that Nuvenin needs to get it out. It's because of G'raha that Nuvenin agrees to travel to Tural and "help" but he is pretty reluctant throughout the process.

That's where I'll stop cause DT is still a wip for him as I try to figure out what exactly he is going to do there and stuff. The most I have is that he is exploring his feelings for G'raha, it's messy, and he gets a bit of hope in getting his home back when he sees what is happening but that is probably squished down by G'raha making him realize he can make a new home.

[mimble-sparklepudding]

02. Has your OC ever made a conscious decision to make a fresh start? Or have they even reinvented themselves completely? What did they hope to leave behind? Was it truly possible to do so?

When Humble first joined the Scions of the Seventh Dawn he had a vague sense that he needed to reinvent himself as a noble hero to fit in with his illustrious new colleagues, putting his past as a mercenary caravan guard behind him. He wasn't entirely sure what this would involve, and he was rather unsure if he would be able to live up to the role.

From the limited knowledge he had gleaned from campfire tales and tavern balllads, it seemed to require things such as slaying dragons and owning a sword with a name. Since Humble had never seen a dragon, at least not close up, and only really had experience fighting with his fists or an axe (which didn't have a name beyond "axe"), he felt somewhat unqualified for the task.

Fortunately Minfilia was able to reassure him that, as a man who already tried his best to help others and protect the vulnerable, he was already more noble than many of the warriors in the Sultanate - and that he could continue conduct himself much as he had previously, albeit now as guardian of something far larger than just a caravan.

Thank you for the ask @kikisqueaks!

[redwayfarers]

survivor - for the random word generator prompt!

hello! sorry for the wait, real life got the better of me and i didn't write, but i was reading gide and this came to me like an angel, so i had to write it! if it reads like les faux monnayeurs, i'm so sorry lmao, this is why they tell you not to write immediately after reading (affectionate)

a flickering light, or a tale of two survivors

Fandom: FFXIV Ship: Cassander/Stephanivien (implied), Nika/Minfilia Characters: Cassander Inteus (aka a Cass AU), Nika Perseis (WoL), Stephanivien de Haillenarte Rating: Gen Words: 1759 Spoilers: ARR patches, if you squint. dividers by @saradika

Set during early Heavensward.

The Skysteel Manufactory gets stupidly creepy at night. It’s not lit by torches or something, like some parts of the city - Stephanivien saw to that, he’s too avant-garde for torches, how dare the world not use every technological advancement ever! - and there’s a few of the lamps that go on and off, like a broken clock. Stephanivien is too busy to see that of all things, and we’re all far too enthralled by the creepiness to tell him. 

Some of us have weird tastes. 

The workshops on higher levels are a mess of metal parts, wires, cogs, magical devices and whatever the fuck machinists need. There’s a beauty in that too, in a way. It feels lived in, like a childhood bedroom you can’t yet leave even though you’re getting married tomorrow. Except that I was an adult when I first saw this room, and that I’d have no idea what a beloved childhood room would look, let alone feel like. My childhood bedroom - or the room where I spent a large part of what people call a childhood, anyways - is pristine, devoid of personality, rich, opulent. It’s a stage more than anything. Only thing remotely lived in in that whole fucking room - no, the whole shitty house - is the bright, orange pillow with Dzemael sigil sewn on it. 

It was embarrassing, packing your childhood pillow, the first time I left to spend the night in the Manufactory. But maybe I am embarrassing, deep down, so I get to keep my little pillow with me and go freeze in the messy, lived in workshops overnight. The more I got used to that, the less embarrassing it felt. 

One day, I might even go take it to Coerthas and drown in a river there. I’m sure my mother would be happier for it. She found the pillow rather tacky anyways. 

“It was very.. Kind of you to let me in,” I told Stephanivien one night, seated beside him to watch him work. His eyeshadow bore the signs of wearing, a little messy at the edges. His forehead gleamed with sweat. The lamp was dying, but he was too engrossed in his work to notice and I was too engrossed in him to tell him. 

“Kind? Cassander, your mother is an absolute bitch. Even if you weren’t as pretty as you are, I would have taken you in regardless. Between us, darling, you’re wasted in that house.” He smiled, widely. “You look much better with a gun in your hand, I will say.” 

“You will,” I laugh, looking at my hands. My cheeks were burning. “I think I like guns. Long ones in particular. Elegant. You may think I’m referring to something else, but no, I am referring to metal objects you use to shoot things with.”

“You’re funny,” Stephanivien shakes his head. “I can make you one, if you’d like. Golden, to match the pillow.” 

“My future gun has a bed now, who would’ve thought.” I reached out and grasped his gloved hand, dirty from the work. Stephanivien smiled, and it seemed brighter than the dying lamp above our heads. 

Maybe I’m also a little fond of that struggling, dying thing. I go up sometimes, when it’s cold, or rainy, or everyone’s simply too busy for me and my jobless ass, sit beneath it and look at the gun Stephanivien gave me. A nameday gift, engraved with a little dagger. It’s in pristine condition, but I clean it anyway, with all the care you afford a priceless, porcelain vase; the light flickers, on and off, but I don’t need it to see the little dagger engraving, the nooks and the crannies and the long barrel that feels like something my mother would hate. 

That, too, brings me joy. Theokleia de Dzemael hates machinists, on principle. The fact that I not only own a gun, but can shoot with it, is a kind of pleasure I wouldn’t have thought myself capable of some 5 years ago. 

This particular evening, I climb up the stairs to the workshop, coffee in hand, ready to clean it from the last practice from earlier. A curl that the goggles aren’t holding up tickles my temple, but I’ll be damned if I let my coffee spill just because of one stray piece of hair that refuses to sit still. I kick the door open. 

“I like your gun,” someone says before I can fully register them. A pair of mismatched eyes moves from the weapon to me and my coffee. “Did you also drink the last of the coffee?” 

“I’m not a coffee maniac,” I grumble, frowning. “I can’t drink all of it. What kind of question is that, for fuck’s everloving sake?” 

Nika looks at me with an equal furrow. However, that’s his MO, and mine is decidedly not. I have been known to grin maniacally once or twice. “One that needs answering.” 

The light flickers above our heads. It casts a sudden light onto his face, and shines a weak light onto the hazel eye and the scar on his nose and cheek. Ouch. His lips are pulled in a tight line, his short, black hair in disarray, a stark contrast to the finery of the clothes he’s wearing - courtesy of his hosts here in Ishgard. 

For a Warrior of Light, he is very gloomy and dark. An asshole, too. You’d think the Warrior of Light, of all people, would be a hero, but no, we’re stuck with a perpetually frowning asshole. What a joy. 

“What do you want? Move, I need that desk.” I place the overfilled cup down as roughly as I can. “There’s no fucking coffee here except the one on the table, and that’s mine.”

“I paid you a compliment,” he says, unmoving. “You could at least say thank you. You nobles should have manners.” 

“Je suis plein de gratitude. I know you paid me a compliment, but the question later made no sense so that had to be addressed first.” 

Nika looks at the gun again. He taps his fingers against the wood in a rhythm, three taps forward, one tap backward, three strong, one a glide, then in reverse. He then looks at his feet and takes a deep breath. “Minfilia is better at this sort of thing. She knows how to talk to you higher classes.” 

“Minfilia?” Who the fuck is this Minfilia woman? I readjust my goggles, and push the tickling curl away from my skin. Is she his lover, his sister? His friend? I can’t imagine him caring about anyone, including himself. From what little he’s been here in the Manufactory, a stray taken in by Stephanivien’s brightness much like me, all he did is make nonsense sentences and antagonize everyone. 

“Someone very dear to me. But she isn’t here, and neither is Alphinaud, so you’re stuck with me.” 

Alphinaud? Oh yeah, one of the other wards. The elezen kid. Whoever did his braid deserves to be fired because it’s needlessly messy and terrible. “Which would be fine, if you stopped speaking in riddles. Now can I sit, Warrior of Light, or will you clean my likeable gun for me? I’m not making you coffee.”

“In riddles? I’m not–” Nika frowns yet again. “Have your gun, whats-your-face.” 

“Cassander. Cassander de Dzemael.” 

“Cassander,” he says, like he’s testing the name. I look down at him. 

The light flickers. Something crosses his face, and his eyes look painfully vulnerable for a moment, and he’s tapping his fingers in the same rhythm again. 

“Why are you here, Nika?” I ask. I don’t know why my voice becomes so gentle. Maybe because I’m towering over him, and if I kept the hard edge, it would scare him off, not that I care about that. Maybe if I spoke gentler, he’d buck less under every question. Maybe he’d even start making sense. 

Or maybe the images of my mother’s hard voice echo in my head, like a hammer to the anvil. Now it is my turn to grip the table until my nail beds go a little pale. Her shouts and her yells, her derisive comments, her hard eyes and her pointed anger, and her looming, Halone’s ass, the looming! Do I sound like that? Do I sound as rough as she does? 

Nika’s quiet for a while. He keeps looking at his hands, rough and harsh. “That’s none of your business,” he rasps, but moves so that I could sit. “If someone needs me, they don’t know where to look.” 

I sit and take a long sip of my coffee. “Just mind the pillow, then. And try not to interrupt. This is something of a sacred ritual, you see. Halone-ordained. When you go to church, they tell you you must clean your gun or else she will smite you, or something.” 

He huffs. 

“Or so I hear,” I add with a shrug. “I’m not frequently in church.” 

The light flickers. 

“Minfilia would also laugh at that,” Nika says. I still have no idea who this Minfilia is, but she’s welcome to laugh at my jokes, wherever she is. “Will they fix the fucking thing?”

I take a sip of coffee. “Don’t think so. It’s rather cute. On and off. We all like weird things, I think, and my particular weird thing is this broken little lamp. Besides, I’m sure Stephanivien will notice at some point or another. When it dies, probably.”

“He’s the one making these guns, I’d rather he didn’t make me a faulty one,” Nika shrugs. “But if he sees, it’s whatever. It’s just annoying. You asked me earlier why I’m here. I was drawn to the gun. I think it has a nice shot.” He pauses. “I’m sure that the Fortemps family can pay for one of these.”

“Pretty sure they can, yeah. This one’s mine, though.” 

“I’m not in the habit of stealing people’s weapons.” 

I lift a brow. “Never said you were.” 

Nika shakes his head and heads for the door. The light flickers and he looks up. “Someone should really fix the damn thing,” he says, a little less angry than before. He’s then gone, tucking his waistcoat tighter for warmth, and I watch him go before he’s part of the shadows and I can take out my tools. 

We all like weird things. Some of us like long-barreled guns. Some of us like women named Minfilia, and speaking in riddles. And who knows? Maybe this broken little lamp refuses to die because it likes us, too. 

Halone works in weird fucking ways. 

[snotsloth]

FFXIV Write Day 3: Tempest

Orion’s gaze drifted over the scene of the Ondo performing their devotions and up into the ruin over their heads. It was pyramidal in shape and made of the same pale substance as the other ancient ruins that dotted the sea floor. An archway took up most of each of the four sides of the structure, leaving the inside hollow. They gleamed in the low, blue-shifted light like slivers of moon, pulled into the depths by the titanic magic of the Ancients.

“I’ll go fetch the others,” Kendra said, breaking him out of his enchantment.

“Oh,” Orion tore his eyes away from the sight and turned towards Kendra’s retreating form. “Alright. Shall I come with you?”

“No need,” she waved him off without turning back to look at him.

“Enjoy your archaeological musings or whatever. I’ll be back shortly.” Orion shrugged to himself and turned back to continue watching the Ondo ceremony below.

He did not have much time to enjoy his solitude however. The amber warmth of Ardbert’s presence bloomed in the back of his skull and his shade flickered into Orion’s peripheral vision. “That crystal you showed the artisan. Was it — did it belong to Lamitt?”

Orion chuffed a quiet laugh. “Miss that, did you?” he asked. “I thought you saw everything.”

Crossing his arms, and looking away, Ardbert pouted, “I try to give you a measure of privacy. No one wans a spirit looking over their shoulder every moment of the day.”

Orion turned to smile down at him, “I genuinely don’t mind, Ardbert. I know you’ve literally nothing else to do. It’s alright for you to watch most of the time, unless I ask for privacy.”

Appeased, Ardbert returned his smile. “I will keep that in mind,” he said. “So tell me, if you would. How did you come across that crystal?”

Just the thought of Giott pushed Orion’s smile off kilter into something more wry. “So, it all started when I met this dwarf in a bar…”

It took a while for Orion to tell the entire tale of helping an alcoholic dwarf take out the sin eater Sophrosyne, his visions of Lamitt’s past, and the crystal he found after Sophrosyne’s defeat. At times the story brought Ardbert to both laughter and tears, but at the end he looked wistful. “Strange that I should learn such things now, after she’s long gone. She was my best friend, the first to travel at my side and — ” his voice cutoff. Staring off into the distance, he absentmindedly rubbed his hand over where his breastplate still shielded his unbeating heart.

Silence hung heavy in the stagnant, humid air, only broken by the susurration of the Ondo’s prayers in the distance. Orion found himself thinking of his own lost companions, Minfilia’s smile, Moenbryda’s laugh, the way Haurchefant would sweep Kendra off her feet and bring a blush to her button nose, the fire of conviction in Ysayle’s eyes, and G’raha. Bright and curious and bold G’raha who had loved him. Who had essentially died, believing that love completely unrequited. He sighed heavily through his nose.

Ardbert shuffled closer to Orion’s side, the ephemeral sensation of his spiritual presence was like a campfire, seeping warmth into Orion’s bones. “I didn’t expect death to teach me so much,” Ardbert said, breaking their mutual melancholy silence. “About Lamitt, about Seto — about you. About the hope that lies at the heart of this world. I’ve never been one for idle chitchat, but if by some miracle I could see them all again, I doubt I would never stop talking.”

“It is the curse of those left behind to dwell on all the conversations left unsaid,” Orion said. “If I could — ” he cut himself off with another sigh, struggling to put into words the mixed feelings of grief, affection, and regret that gripped his throat whenever he looked up at the Crystal Tower. “I have lost my fair share of comrades in my travels. Each one’s absence aches differently, but the sharpest pain is the memory of a boy who loved me, and who I couldn’t love back. In idle moments, I catch myself wondering; would I have returned his affections if I knew how little time we had — he had? When I’m honest with myself I answer no. Not in the way he would have wanted. Not in a way that would have changed anything.”

Orion shifted to look down at Ardbert, meeting his eyes. “You loved Lamitt with all your heart in the way that you could. She knew that. It hurt, but you didn’t hurt her, Bear. You meant the world to her, even though she knew you would never look at her the way she wanted you to. She chose to stand at your side to the end because the way that you did love her was more than worth the pain.”

Still staring up into his face, Ardbert brushed his spectral fingers through Orion’s. It felt like the pins and needles of a limb falling asleep. “I’m grateful I got to bend your ear at least,” Ardbert said. “And just for that, I reckon I’ll stick with you.”

“Just for that?” Orion teased, hunting for flattery.

“Well, that and I’ve nothing better to do,” Ardbert rolled his eyes.

“I hate how you’re stuck like this,” Orion said, “but I’m selfishly glad to know you’ll be there at my side, whatever awaits us in the depths.”

“I’m here,” Ardbert said, “to the very end.”

[shiratamako]

Sends you Minfilia to write from her pov :3c

“I had no idea your passion was in mining, Minfilia,” Shira said.

Minfilia invited Shira for tea after having reunited her with her adoptive mother — it was the least she could do to thank the fellow Scion. F’lhaminn had baked soft and tender tea biscuits to go with some freshly brewed tea. Shira paired this with some rolanberry jam she preserved and high-quality butter that she had kept for cooking. 

“Yes, it’s a passion since my formative years,” the Antecedent beamed at Shira with her clear grey eyes, her voice light and soft. “It was not my intent to hide this from you, though there scarcely seemed to be an appropriate time to bring it up.”

F’lhaminn encouraged both of them to take time to rest. Hearing her mother be so proud of her made Minfilia more aware of how tireless the scions were working. She also realised how distant she must have seemed to the tireless warrior she sent on constant errands and missions. Not once did Shira seem to complain, though she knew that she had endured much. 

She frowned. As another one blessed with the Echo, she felt she wanted to be closer to Shira, yet during their time together, she felt they grew more distant. With a hand to her breast, Minfilia confessed her apologies as sincerely as she could. 

“I realise perhaps I have shared very little about myself with you. Nor you with me, doubtless due to the tasks I’ve beset upon you. I would like to correct this, now that we have some respite.” 

Minfilia looked at Shira, wondering how she would take the apology. Instead, the Au Ra shook her head with a smile. Through this wordless exchange, Minfilia understood that Shira forgave her. The Antecedent smiled in relief. 

Shira extended her hand. “Can I see the Tiger’s Eye that F’lhaminn gave you?”

“Of course. I have it here,” Minfilia took the gem stashed safely away in her pocket, passing the small stone to Shira. She took it in her fingers and rotated the round, smooth gemstone in the dim light of the Waking Sands, seeing its striated surface with its luminous bands. She did not think Shira would be as taken with gemstones as she was. When she passed it back into Minfilia’s possession, she had to ask.

“I understand that your vocation is in fishing, Shira. Did you have any interest in mining?”

“I did join the Mining Guild in Ul’dah. What for…” Shira put a fist on the side of her cheek as she searched her memory. After a long pause, ruminating over bites of rolanberry jam-covered tea biscuits, Shira finally remembered. 

“Oh, right. I needed components for enchanted silver ink, obtained in the South Shroud by mining. I needed it to repair a faded copy of an orchestrion roll I found. Then when I managed to synthesise it with alchemy, I found out I lacked the Master Recipe to repair the other orchestrion rolls I found.”

Minfilia was astounded. This seemed almost highly impractical. “I had no knowledge you were crafting alongside adventuring. Could you not have found someone to repair it for you on the market board, or through your retainers?”

“The what? Marred Debt Horde?”

“Oh dear…” Minfilia remembered Shira was quite directionless, especially in large cities.

“One of these days though, you should come fishing with me, Minfilia. You really do get to experience the natural beauty of Eorzea, sitting still with rod in hand, listening to the sound of water, the wind in the trees and the call of animals.”

Shira spoke with a fond, captivated smile that Minfilia felt happy that she could at least find some common interest with Shira. She knew when Shira was not adventuring and at the Waking Sands, she was pouring over a hefty volume known as The Fisher’s Guide to Eorzea, among other tomes dedicated to fieldcraft and tradecraft. 

“You sound like you have many fond memories of fishing. Did you fish much growing up?”

“No, not much.” Shira shrugged, taking a swig of tea before indulging in a fisherman’s tale. “It all started on my journey to Limsa Lominsa. It was the first time I was out on the open ocean. I saw fish leap up from the surface, seagulls and dolphins. Then, when I ate at the Bismarck with some friends, I tasted Ash Tuna for the first time. I was hooked on the taste! I remember thinking to myself ‘So this is what ocean fish tastes like.’” 

It was true. Many esteemed nobles and patrons of the Bismarck would pay top gil to dine on the bounties of the sea, whether they were caught in La Noscea or traded from beyond. 

Shira continued, embellishing her tale as best she could. “As soon as I established myself with the Marauder’s Guild, I went straight to the Lower Decks to apply to the Fisherman’s Guild. The rest is, well… as you know.”

Minfilia chuckled. “Perhaps we do need to have a fishing trip together. Rarely do I hear you speak so passionately.”

“If you can help me with mining Mythrite sand, we can then go fishing for cliones in Western Coerthas!” 

Thinking of the blistering cold and sleet in Coerthas, Minfilia shook her head in horror, realising she had spoken too soon. “Pray that we find some more suitable winter clothing first before embarking on such an expedition!”

[witchofthescions]

After the excitement of the day, Ernastral was more than happy to retire to her new room at the Pendants. It had been a while since the last time she'd stayed at an inn room rather than retiring to her own apartment. She had to admit to feeling a little homesick even now.

And this room was rather spacious compared to most of the other inn rooms she'd stayed in. It honestly felt more like an apartment unto itself, with a table laid out for meals and a partitioned off area for the bed and wardrobe. Then again, she was expected to be here for a while. A regular inn room, with just a bed and wardrobe, would not be nearly enough for an extended stay.

She approached the window on the far side of the room, opened the shades and gazed out at the light-soaked landscape below her. It was hard to imagine that it was the middle of the night out there. It looked more like a particularly cloudy day at noon.

She didn't hear anyone enter the room. Maybe it was because she was too preoccupied with all the conflicting thoughts and emotions swirling around her head.

"You...? I know you. You're a Warrior of Light from the Source!"

Erna let out a startled yelp and reflexively flung a fireball towards the source of the voice standing behind her. He in turn yelled and dove for cover.

"What in the hells was that for?!" shouted the man, a hyur wearing a variation of the getup that warriors from Ernastral's homeland typically wore. A familiar bloodstained axe was strapped to his back.

"What in the hells are you doin' in my room?!" she snapped back. "How did you even..." She paused, taking a closer look at him. "Wait... ain't you one a' the Warriors of Darkness...?"

"Yes, I..." He paused, his eyes widening as he blinked at her. He got to his feet, absently dusting himself off. "You can hear me?"

"Yeah, of course I can hear ya," she said. "Why wouldn't... I..."

With a sickening lurch, she recalled what it had taken for the Warriors of Darkness to reach her world: they had to shed their mortal forms, much like her friends had been inadvertently forced to. Unlike her friends, however, their trip had been one way.

The Warrior of Darkness before her was long dead. The man before her was a ghost.

"Oh, gods, how long has it been...?" His question hung in the air between them. Erna could only guess at the answer. He shook his head. "Aye, 'Warrior of Darkness' is what I called myself in your world. My real name is Ardbert."

"Ardbert," Ernastral repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, I realize now the alias I used was rather daft." He shrugged helplessly. "If you recall my tale, it was my comrades and I who caused the Flood. We thought our home doomed. And so we listened to the Ascians─let them guide us to the Source, and tried to hasten their godsdamned Ardor. I remember when we fell, defeated by you and yours."

Ernastral recalled how hard won that particular fight was. Specifically, how this particular axe-wielding man kept getting in her way.

"I remember our audience with Minfilia─how she listened to our pleas, and returned our souls to the First. The Flood was poised to swallow Norvrandt... Minfilia and my friends, they..." Ardbert faltered for a moment, gaze dropping to the floor with the recollection. "They surrendered what little they had left to hold it back. Just faded away... leaving me to bear witness." He raised his head and looked her in the eye, brow furrowed. "Tell me, do you know the year? How much time has passed since we caused the Flood?"

Ernastral found she couldn't meet his gaze. "...'Bout a hundred years, I reckon."

"A hundred years," he repeated, voice shaking. "A hundred long years..."

He walked over to the nearby table, his movements shaky as if he were in a daze. He reached for the table... only for his hand to pass through as if it were water.

"My hands find no purchase. My gestures catch no eye. And my pleas, be they whispered or screamed, reach not a single ear..." His voice trembled as he spoke. "I am a shade, cursed to do naught but drift."

Ernastral glanced at him, mouth forming a thin line as she regarded him.

"I feel as if I've been walking forever... I hardly noticed when my mind and body began to fray at the edges. Then 'bang,'" he smacked his fist into his palm, "my senses were sharp again. I felt like a fish being reeled in, and before I knew it, I found myself in this room."

He paused, frowning to himself, before he turned back to her.

"Why is it that you can see me?" Well, if she had to guess, her first thought was that she'd spent too much time around Svaran and his alt. "What are you even doing here, come to that?"

"I was brought here to help save the world," she answered.

"You were summoned to save the First?" Ardbert's eyes widened briefly, before he shook his head and scoffed. "A waste of time. This world is beyond saving—like those who try to save it. Muddled as my mind may be, I've not forgotten that."

Erna folded her arms over her chest. "We'll see about that."

Ardbert shook his head again. "...Would that I still held your optimism. Still, if fate has brought me to you—the one person in this godsforsaken world who can see and hear me—then perhaps there is a reason I endured. If I can find out why I was left behind, then maybe... maybe I can bring this journey of mine to an end..."

Erna took a step closer to him, starting to reach out towards him. Ardbert glanced at her raised hand, but both of them recognized the futility of the gesture before she even made contact. After a moment, she lowered her hand again.

"Well." Ardbert let out a nonexistent breath. "I'll be watching, Warrior of Light."

She winced. Somehow, coming from him, the title felt so wrong.

"But do me a favor," he continued. Though his tone didn't change, his next words carried a hint of genuine care. "Be careful out there. This world has had its fill of heroes."

[windupaidoneus]

hi thistle i wanted to ask abt hancock and hlidegarde .. what is their dynamic like what were their first impressions of each other 🤲 <- me with my hands out ready to receive info

OKAY I AM FREE FROM. well everything really. ITS TIME TO TYPE!!!!! HI CLARA BELATED REPLY & do not worry i have not forgotten the other ask either i prommy

also i took like four separate days to actually type all of this my ability to focus is so shot. BUT I DID IT

the first impressions are a little funny bc from my understanding most of my friends' wols had a very different one. HDJSHKJG

so it was in earlyish stb right. we have a hilde who's still in mourning from. well. points at haurche. hes basically a widower at that point since they were engaged. minfilia also just basically died for real, papalymo died, they went to rhalgr's reach & shit got fucked, kind of the maze of torments (as per usual) for him. but hes trying to stay #silly & not think too hard about it so he can be there for lyse & thancred & whatever. he IS considering necromancy at this stage but is still focused on tempering research for the time being

enter hancock whose first interaction is to make a joke about teledji's corpse. i wouldnt say hilde was charmed romantically but like. it caught him off guard & he found it really funny?? it was a bit of an unhinged joke & his friends had all been REALLY serious & sad of late (& i mean himself too but yknow. in his mind he did not have it the worst so he should help others first. the usual) so hancock was a breath of fresh air in that sense. they got on pretty well from that point on despite hancock working for lolorito & hilde's apprehensions as a result, much to tataru's dismay. but ultimately he just wasn't the backstabber or evil schemer type, just a very peculiar autistic man who was given a lot of power & used it for his. autistic ends. so. yeah. it went okay.

on hancock's end i believe hildegarde would've been a rather daunting name to hear about until he first met him. he wasn't really scared, because he has no reason to be in the wol's bad books when he was offering help in the first place!, but it was basically just like meeting a celebrity (who had butted heads with his boss slash father figure of sorts no less), right? so there was some anticipation. but it turned out the warrior was actually a pretty meek-looking sad little thing so he got comfortable pretty quickly. i don't think he expected the joke to be taken as well as it did. not sure what he actually expected if anything at all. probably mostly a sense of unease? or just mild laughter but not much else? i think he was just establishing himself & who he is. & somehow that would be the thing that their dynamic would found itself on. lmao

speaking of their dynamic. it's... they get along very well? scarily so?? they don't really argue or anything. kinda just yes and-ing each other. hancock asks hilde for help while showering him with praise to butter him up & hilde just rolls his eyes with a smile goes to do it before hancock even finishes. whenever hilde has the free time for it he'll visit & they spend a few days together (before emet comes back. after he does emet is also spending a few days together with them). hilde tends to tease him a fair bit which he takes well initially but progressively gets more prone to getting flustered. he greatly enjoys it bc he is sick in the head

there is some vulnerability with them too though ofc. i don't think it came up much before post shb (THEY DID FUCK IN POST STB THOUGH!!!! IMPORTANT!!) but hilde probably brought up haurche in passing & tried to not delve into it too much. it was still something that needed to be expressed at some point because otherwise he's kinda just... the wol... unaffected by everything that happens to him & he keeps marching on... & i mean. hancock is clever enough to of course know hilde is more than what the tales sing & whatever. but it's still a nice reality check. reminds him the wol is really just a person at the end of the day. & when it's just them in a room together they are on equal footing. it's not a legend & just some merchant. it's two people

post shb is where they really hit the whole getting close thing... yknow. since. hilde comes back after not that long from hancock's pov & yet he's looking FUCKED. UP! & he's clearly beyond exhausted. honestly he's not even that recognisable at that point shb really got him good... but it's him & that's what matters. obviously hancock is worried. even if hilde's only request when he visits is a really unusual one & perhaps even unsettling ("can i drink your blood please" isn't usually something that's said between them but there's a first for everything!! #hewashungry) he kinda has to oblige just out of concern. the explanations come later alongside a good deal of crying & apologising. hilde spends quite a bit of time at his place recuperating from. everything. & everytime he does something he comes back to hancock when hes done. like the werlyt trials. edw is a whole ordeal bc he has to spend so much time away from hancock which is NOT THE WORST I GUESS since emet is in his head by that point (this guy needs a supervisor at all times at that point in time) but god after elpis he needs a fuuucking break. & he doesnt get one!!! he just gets to think really hard about how he wishes he could be with his normal best friend hancock right now & kinda vanishes from front for a little bit

post edw is great because of beautiful mt rokkon though. it was kinda platonic (according to both of them) for the longest time but once they get to spend time together alone on that mountain is where they both get more acutely aware that it's probably not platonic anymore... which is fun bc well emet does come back around that time. so hancock & hilde dont really talk about shit for a while. bc hilde is sorting out whatever awkward shit is going on with emet initially. & then he has to introduce emet to hancock. it doesnt really make things awkward with hancock bc hes kinda fine with everything & honestly im going to say emet being a tall & kinda intimidating guy with a very powerful & imposing aura (& also his bitchy countenance) was probably a bit of a fingertips touching thing to him... insert that one post thats like joining someone elses relationship scoot over i love yall. hancock did this. emet thought there would be some sort of competition (that he would win effortlessly) but turns out the little normal ass guy also wants him. he's fine with this

i got wildly sidetracked. hilde wears the pants ☝️ these three would be a fucking nightmare at a fancy party of sorts they are gossiping the wholeeeee time. & if theyre dragging alisaie & nero with them? dont even get me started. the worst family has shown up

um. oh yeah. they did have feelings for a while but said like Nothing... on hancock's part bc he believed himself out of hilde's league (not in a self deprecating way just. thtas the whole wol mate thats an entirely different level!) & on hilde's part bc well he IS the wol & he's probably going to die young with all the shit they're making him do & it's probably not even reciprocated bc hes kinda lame & honestly he doesnt quite get why hancock puts up with him despite having seen him at his lowest & knowing the myth of the wol is really just a myth. & also getting hancock involved romantically with him would put greater emotional strain on him if anything did happen to hilde. you know how it is!!!!!

[myreia]

wip wednesday

tagged by @lilas, ty beloved! 💕 tagging @roguelioness @tsunael @fourteenthz @ardberts

@birues @impossible-rat-babies @galadae @thevikingwoman uhhh so this fic which was supposed to be a quick prompt has spiralled and is now a three-parter. anyway. ARR setting, aur just joined the scions and what should be a happy moment is devolving in her and thancred having a fight disagreement. she's prickly and dragging her trauma around like someone in an airport who packed an excessive amount of luggage she's fine she's fine she's fine.

“You certainly know how to make an exit,” a familiar voice behind her says.

Aureia stiffens. No matter how frustrated she is with him, she can’t stop the little bubble of hope from rising in her chest. That he came to find her in the midst of everything means something she can’t put a finger on. “I needed some air,” she replies.

Thancred chuckles. “And, once again, I cannot fault you for having the right idea. A touch suffocating down there, is it not? I daresay Minfilia could do with some sun, but alas, she is as glued to her work as Urianger is to his books.”

The bubble pops. “Bookworm, is he?”

“You could say in abundance, aye. Incorrigible scholars, the lot of us. Fervour for knowledge and understanding knows no bounds for the typical Sharlayan, but for archons? Consider its intensity thrice fold.”

The lot of us… She hates how the phrase stands out to her. He has never spoken so candidly of his origins—or the people involved in them—before. For all the months they have known each other, he has been tight-lipped about his involvement with this organization. Perhaps he didn’t trust her yet. Perhaps he did but was instructed not to tell her. Regardless, it would be hypocritical to blame him for that, gods know she has kept a number of her own secrets, and yet this irks her. After all these months in Ul’dah, considering him a close friend…

It hits like a slap to the face.

“You never said you were from Sharlayan,” she says.

He shrugs. “I’m not.”

“Then where?”

He nods in the direction of the sea. “You’re looking at it—or in the direction of it, more like.”

“Then how…? Never mind.” Folding her arms, she shoots him a glance, her gaze lingering on the marks on his neck. She had wondered about the symbols, but never struck up the courage to ask him. “Do those make you an expert in aetherology, too?”

“No. I assure you, my area of expertise is not so abstract.”

“Not so abstract, hm?” she prods, trying to keep a straight face. “I wonder what that could mean. Of all the subjects that could attract your eye, what would you choose?”

He catches her eye, an amused smile on his lips, and bows theatrically. “My lips are sealed, fair lady, and you will never guess.”

“Unfortunate. I shall have to defer to process of elimination, then.”

“Oh?”

“I know what it isn’t. Music and bardship for one. Philandering, for another.”

He wheezes. “Oof,” he says with a painful wince. “I’m no stranger to low blows, but I didn’t expect one from you.”

She grins. “You should know better by now.”

“I should.” He returns her grin, hazel eyes bright in the seaside sun. Her playful jibes never seem to bother him; if anything, he seems to enjoy it. She has a sneaking suspicion that he sets himself up on purpose. “But enough of me. Here you are. Vesper Bay. The Scions of the Seventh Dawn. Now you know the truth of it.”

A lump forms in her throat. Nothing has changed between them—if anything, one could argue that they can only grow closer because of this—and yet she feels so unsettled. She would give anything to be back in Ul’dah, walking the Gold Court or wandering the Sapphire and Ruby Exchanges, moving to the rhythms of the city. She could talk with him about anything then. Now, out here in Vesper Bay, she feels… limited.  

Stuck.

“Here I am,” she murmurs. “And here you are.”

“I am glad for it. And I am glad that you and Minfilia have had the opportunity to meet. She has been so eager. Charmed, one could say, by the tales of your exploits. I may have overexaggerated certain events in the moment, and before you give me that look, I can say it was all in good faith and spirited storytelling—”

Aureia bites her tongue.

“But all that aside, you should get some rest. We have quite the task ahead of us. And I do believe it would do you well to get to know the others. You should speak with Y’shtola when the opportunity arises. I am certain she would appreciate it.”

The suggestion chafes. “Why?”

“Overlapping interests, for one. And I suspect you will get along well, for another. I can think of no mage as well-versed in the practice of arcane arts as she, save for Papalymo. I’m sure she can provide a guiding thought or three.”

“You think I need help? More training? Better training?”

“I—” He pauses, caught off guard by her tone. “Certainly not. I merely thought—”

“Because right now you’re implying I do.”

“That was not my intent.”

“I’m sorry my non-Sharlayan education doesn’t live up to the standards set by Minfilia’s brave and noble souls. Then again I don’t need tattoos on my neck to tell the world I have mastery.”

“And I know where your talents lie. I’ve seen them first-hand. You have nothing to prove, not to Minfilia, not to the others, and certainly not to me. You do not need to be an archon to have a place with us.”

Aureia forces back a grimace, her jaw clenching painfully. On any other day his words would be comforting, but here and now they fill her with dread. Anxieties creep across her mind, irrational and persistent, their spiderlike touch feeding her discomfort. 

“Then tell me this honestly, yes or no. Would I be here at all if not for the Echo?”

The question is blunt. Forceful. She’s given him no room to maneuver, no way to escape. There is only one way to answer this.

Thancred closes his eyes. “No,” he says finally. “I do not believe that would be the case. It is the gift that sets you apart. It is what caught my attention. Without it, you would not be here, for without it—and a long line of other convoluted coincidences—we would never have met.”

A lump forms in her throat. “And I’d be just another adventurer on the streets of Ul’dah.”

“Aye. I suspect as much.”

A wave crashes against the dock, throwing up a spray of salt and water. Aureia turns away, her eyes stinging. She can feel Thancred’s gaze on her, watching closely.

“That is not the answer you wished to hear, was it,” he says.

It’s not a question.

She wets her lower lip and tastes brine. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Would you have preferred I lied?”

“No—”

“Then why are you angry?”

“I’m not angry!” She turns sharply, rounding on him, and meets his eyes. Most would step away from the look she gives him, but not him. He knows her well enough not to be intimidated. Not that he was ever intimidated by her. And judging from his expression, just as she is unwilling to put up with his bullshit, so he is with hers. “I am...”

He raises an eyebrow. “Seems to me the word you are looking for is angry.”

She curses.

He smiles.

“Don’t,” she says bluntly. “Just… don’t. Please. I’m not in the mood for this.”

[anneapocalypse]

There's an interesting moment with Urianger in 2.1 as the Scions are preparing to leave the Waking Sands for Mor Dhona, and we've just been told it was he who insisted they maintain ownership of the building and chose to stay and continue his research there.

Thou art ever welcome, [Forename], but I require no assistance. Pray take thy leave unburdened by concern for my well-being. Verily, thy countenance bespeaks a desire to quit this place without further delay. Hm. Mayhap thou thinkest this chapter of our tale concluded─that these halls should rightly be consigned to the annals of history...? In man's eagerness to seize the future, how readily he doth set down the past. Full many a proud pioneer hath bravely stridden into the great unknown, only to find there the banner of his ancestor, faded by the eons. And still man glorieth in his discoveries. 'Tis through his pride that wisdom doth ever give way to ignorance, while they who lurk in shadow remain hidden, lost no sooner than they are found. <sigh> Be not offended, Forename. Thy conduct hath ever been beyond reproach. Despite thy surpassing strength, and all thy many victories, thou hast never been so convinced of thine own greatness as to imagine thyself above the failings of thy forebears. Mayhap it is the Echo which hath opened thine eyes to the lessons of history. Would that the same could be said of─

He's then interrupted by Minfilia's cry at being accosted by Elidibus, and the conversation is never finished, and we never find out who he was about to mention there, as imagining themselves above the failings of their forebears.

It's not an uncommon narrative device to have a character interrupted by the very person they were about to name, and I do wonder if we're meant to infer that he was talking about Minfilia. That he is concerned she's making a mistake, that he does disapprove of the changes to the Scions taking place here, but respects Minfilia (and Alphinaud) too much to say so outright.

[feliciadraws]

*SPOILERS FOR FINAL FANTASY XIV*

I had to split my recap of the last part of Through the Maelstrom into chunks because Tumblr wasn't letting me save larger posts or something...? Truly a functional website, Tumblr pls🙄 With Leviathan defeated and turned back into aether mush, Limsa Lominsa was free from the big watery snek boi's watery wrath, and the Warrior of Light and the Scions headed back to Limsa to speak with Merlwyb. Yugiri, still looking to pay back the Scions for how they had helped her and her people after having to flee from Doma, suggested she could offer her services by way of teaching martial arts in Eorzea, with Thancred making mention of a secret organisation which may or may not be a thief's guild right there in Limsa Lominsa, to which Y'shtola made mention of Thancred's...rather interesting past; Thancred used to be a petty crook on the streets of Limsa, and if it weren't for a chance encounter with none other than Louisoix, he never would have received a proper education or even joined the Scions, and he likely would never have left a life of petty thievery.

Also his reaction when Y'stola mentioned his criminal past was hilarious, like he was all like "YOU JEST!" and momentarily morphed into a human version of the monkey puppet meme, like that was freaking SENDING ME ANYWAYS- It was later that Merlwyb requested Y'shtola met her in private, and the two had a little heart-to-heart about the conflict;

The two came to a minor conflict over their viewpoints, namely their views regarding the conflict between the Eorzeans and the beast tribes and their summoning of primals- Y'shtola spoke of the Sahagin acting in self preservation, and in a way offered her sympathy towards the beast tribes, reasoning that they have every right to live and thrive as Eorzea's people, while Merlwyb took a harsher viewpoint, stating her desire to put her own people first and defend them no matter the cost, even if that means killing the beast men, adopting a kind of 'survival of the fittest' mindset (or that's what my reading of this was telling me) in her justification of it.

Yugiri, hidden in a corner a little way away from Merlwyb and Y'shtola, overheard their conversation, and reasoned, perhaps with a dash of melancholy, that maybe the Domans and the Garleans weren't so different after all, herself having seen and been involved with a great amount of the kind of bloody conflict which involved the kind of killing so that one's own people must survive, just like Merlwyb was saying. Later, Yugiri met up with the 'secret fraternity' (which may or may not be a rogue's guild) in Limsa and made good on her offer to teach her martial arts skills to the locals as payment for the Scions allowing her and the Domans to see asylum in Eorzea. I do hope we get to see more of Yugiri, because holy frick she is so FREAKING COOL.

Later after that, the WoL headed back to the Rising Stones to speak with Minfilia, who herself had come to some...rather chilling realisations; while the Scions were fighting the Sahagin while they were summoning Leviathan, the Sahagin priest was actually using the Echo while he was doing so, and not only that, but after Merlwyb gunned gunned him down, his consciousness, his soul if you will, left his dead body, which seemed to dissolve into aether, and then went on to possess one of his minions, who then seemed to turn into the Sahagin priest himself...very much in a similar way to how Ascians possess human bodies. Not even Minfilia herself knew such a thing could be done using the Echo, but recognised it as the kind of 'immortality' that the Ascian emissary Elidibus spoke of. But there was a somewhat hopeful takeaway from this; even though he had technically been made immortal through this, the Sahagin priest was still able to be absorbed into Leviathan, and it was this that gave Minfilia the hope that despite their immortal nature, the Ascians can somehow be destroyed. It was then she thought of a fairy tale she had heard, about souls being reborn upon the cusp of each 'Calamity' event (hmmmm, interesting that this also implies that there has been more than one Calamity in the past...), leading her to think that this legend/fairy tale could actually be describing the Echo, and that the Echo might actually be the key to defeating the Ascians once and for all. Minfilia stated she would be seeking Urianger's help on this matter, but no sooner after she said she would, Urianger himself ran into the Solar, with grave news; the Students of Baldesion, who he had been trying to contact, had been wiped out, the isle where they were based, the Isle of Val, having been destroyed by an aetheric power...similar in power to Ultima. As in the magical nuke spell Ultima. Holy FRICK. Just as Urianger had dropped that chilling bombshell, there was an abrupt switch to a meeting of the Syndicate in Ul'Dah, which seemed to have little to do with what anyone in the previous scene was talking about...or so we thought;

After the meeting was adjourned and everyone had left, one stayed behind- the lalafell Teledji Adeledji, the one of the Syndicate members who seemed sympathetic to the plight of the Doman refugees, stayed behind until dark, and as he sat in darkness, he was approached by his aide, who said, rather ominously, "it is done, my lord." DONE?! WHAT IS DONE?! It got more ominous still; the aide questioned the purposes of Teledji's orders, and the lalafell gave only a single word in reply; "revolution." Wait...orders? What orders?! WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?! Oh...you don't think he did what I think he did...? Is Teledji a bad guy?

- Wow, that was a freaking RIDE. I really do hope we see more of Yugiri, she is so cool. Also, what was interesting is that Yugiri, although seemingly unfamiliar with the concept of primals, made mention of beings worshipped as deities in her former home of the Far East...hmmmm! Also of all the people who could be a surprise antagonist, I was not expecting it to be Teledji, especially after he had seeminly been sympathetic to the Yugiri's plight. IF he is one, that is. But it seems very clear that the game is setting him up as a villain, especially given how it cut to his ominous utterance of 'revolution' after Urianger gave the news that something akin to Ultima wiped out the Students of Baldesion.

Also, bonus monkey puppet Thancred;