#Wind-Up Moenbryda

[isayoldbean]

i am attacking hien like a wild animal i hate that man so much

[tinytveit]

what is goin on in this corner

[anneapocalypse]

Brief wrap on writing this past month!

October word count comes to 12311, which is not great, but also not terrible considering I took a week off for reasons. I also broken 100k for my year-to-date, currently sitting at 108,551. September was a light month for words as I spent it mostly canon reviewing and outlining, and as much as this project has been hell to outline, I do think the work I've done has paid off.

So where are we now? Gentle Dark draft currently sits at 21,898 words, next to Harsh Light's 59,602. The latter still needs some scenes added, so I expect it to grow a bit. I'm shooting for them to be of comparable length but not going to get too hung up about it, especially given that they end at the same canon point but Gentle Dark (the Urianger fic) starts with Moenbryda's death, considerably earlier than the start of Harsh Light (the Ariane fic) which begins with Haurchefant's. Chronological time isn't necessarily an indicator of story length, so y'know, we'll see.

I've been having a lot of fun with it, especially this week as I'm getting back to writing, but I've also had something of a mind to get back to my other Sad Elf Fic this month--you know, the Dragon Age one while I'm playing the new game and all. My brain hates nothing more than switching gears, so this morning I am sitting here waffling. Sometimes breaks are good. Sometimes you just have to go where the wind takes you, and I think I'll just have to see where the wind takes me as I get into the game.

I do not expect to have anything on the longfic front finished by year's end, that's just realism--but I do intend to carry on my time-honored tradition of writing the most self-indulgent smut I can for my current blorbos in December, and I have an Arianger Starlight fic I started last year and never finished, so you can look forward to that, if you're so inclined. ;)

[dainesanddaffodils]

(I realize, half-way through Heavensward, that I still have this in drafts so I'm going to post it now)

Finishing A Realm Reborn, I've decided to make a post about my warrior of light's relationships with the scions/major NPCs, which I'll then recreate at the end of each expansion as a fun way to track how she and these characters grow and change.

Without further ado - Cimorene Geneq's POST-ARR Relationship Vibes

Minfilia - her boss! a very nice boss, don't get her wrong, but her boss nonetheless. Would love to get to know her better but there's never a good time plus she feels like Minfilia is probably the type to be like 'you have to be at least a level 5 friend to unlock my tragic backstory' and Cimorene is like level 3 at best. still likes her though.

Alphinaud - the younger cousin that's closest to you in age that everyone groups you with at the family functions. She would kill anyone who looked sideways at him - and got very very worried about him when the Bloody Banquet went down - but also oooof did she want some space from him sometimes.

Y'shtola - at first incredibly intimidated by her, but that's faded and now she's probably the only scion she would call a Friend. still in like the work-friend sense but like, she would get a drink with her and listen to her talk shit any day of the week.

Thancred - an instant infatuation that faded just as quickly once she realized his charm was mostly surface level lmao Is a little unsure how to interact with him post-lahabrea nonsense as, more than anything, it drove home that she really didn't know him that well beforehand and, like with Minifillia, she feels like there's a barrier keeping her from knowing him better.

Tataru - I, Tangy the player, had a Boring Office Job for a while where the highlight was the very sweet receptionist who also knew all the fun gossip. This is what Tataru is for Cimorene. absolute joy to talk to, want nothing but good things for her.

Yda - a little too high energy to be a work-friend like Y'shtola or even Tataru, but similarly wants nothing but good things for her. will take her side when Papalymo gets on her for anything - in part just because it's kinda funny to watch his reaction when she does.

Papalymo: I, Tangy the player, adore him and therefor so does Cimorene. he and Yda were her first scion allies and she will always have a soft spot in her heart for that.

Urianger - he gives her the heebie-jeebies. he has nothing else to give.

Moenbryda - too good for this world. Cimorene is sad about her death but is also sad about the fact that everyone else is obviously SADDER about it. It's not the first time she feels somewhat isolated from the other Scions, but it does kinda push her to want to change that. (Then the Bloody Banquet happens lmao)

(outside the Scions)

Kan-E - similar feels-like-my-boss energy as Minfillia, except Kan-E isn't even Cimorene's boss. Respectful professional distance and happy to keep it that way.

Merlwyb - Cimorene loves the sea so she chose to join the Maelstrom for that alone. That being said, she does like and respect Merlwyb a lot and doesn't think she'll ever regret her choice.

Raubahn - Didn't know what to think of him early on, and already didn't like Ul-Dah BEFORE shit went down there. Regrets not getting to know him better earlier now that she knows he's a Real One (tm). Cares about him a lot by the end of... you know. Everything.

Nanamo - Man, Tangy the player doesn't know how to describe the relationship between you and someone you, once again, had a respectful but mostly distant relationship who then winds up getting poisoned in front of you, completely altering the trajectory of your life. And neither does Cimorene.

Haurchefant - Love At First Sight, genuinely. I've talked about this so much before but I cannot stress enough how much it took me, Tangy the player, by surprise. she knows he feels the same because as we all know he is Not Subtle about it, but she'd also still really like to have a moment of privacy where they can actually say - or do - something about it.

Aymeric - right now she considers him the Ishgard equivalent of the other city state leaders and, in spite his best efforts she knows, she remains somewhat intimidated by him. he's kind but just. Very Formal. in that very Ishgard way that she doesn't know how to respond to (which is in part why she is so taken with Haurchefant)

-

that's really the main ARR players that Cimorene has any real strong feelings towards so that's where I'll leave it.

We'll see what happens through Heavensward and I'll post again lol

[sapphobolide]

FFXIVWrite Day 6 — "Halcyon"

Mor Dhona turned cold with the season, but inside the Rising Stones it was warm. Laughter and eager talk bubbled in the soft lantern light, free chairs were in short supply. Food was not, however. The air swam with the scent of apple tarts and squash soup, their ingredients fresh from Gridania, mashed popotoes and butter from Thanalan, and hot La Noscean spiced wine. Bowls came empty to a cauldron of Coerthan mutton stewed with lemon thyme and left full, and a crate of Lominsan blood oranges sat open for any and all to take. The headquarters of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn had never seen such a celebration.

And there was plenty to celebrate, to be sure. The Doman refugees, who had arrived in Revenant’s Toll well after planting season when every other state in Eorzea had turned them away, had successfully pulled a risky buckwheat harvest out of the rocky soil of Mor Dhona. According to the skywatchers, they would have just enough time to sow their crystal-studded fields with rye, barley, and winter wheat before the frost came. The seed, along with many of the foodstuffs that went into the Scions’ feast, had come from Gridania and Limsa Lominsa—shipped to the Scions in thanks for the slaying of primals that had threatened each land. Not to be undone, Ishgard had sent shipment after shipment of wood and stone to see Revenant’s Toll through the winter, so grateful were they to be relieved of the primal threat. Gifts even came from the Sultana from time to time, priceless bundles of pepper, ginger, anise, and cloves.

But for all those victories, it was the newest excitement that seemed most infectious—Moenbryda’s plan to slay an Ascian. She was the most recent arrival to the Rising Stones, but Moenbryda had fit in the way that a bow fits a quiver of arrows. The big woman filled the room like air, her voice the wind, the avalanche of her laugh so transfixing none could run from it. The other Scions orbited her like a host of blushing Dalamuds, the red in their cheeks not entirely from the wine.

Caswyn watched it all from afar, a mug of mutton broth in her hands. Behind her prowled the cat-sized vessel of Midgardsormr, a spectre only those with the Echo could see. Her thoughts wrapped around her like a cloak, sheltering her from the squall of merriment blowing through.

The scrape of a stool woke her attention. Tamsyn sat beside her, a cup of her own in hand. There was space enough between them to fit the things they did not talk about; the bitter fight they had had over letting Lady Iceheart go, the sobbing breakdown that had overcome Tamsyn in the boat back from the Keeper of the Lake. The secret they had kept from all but Minfilia—that the father of dragons had stripped them of Hydaelyn’s blessing. And yet, for all that had come between them, there was a surprising comfort here, at the edge of the festivities. They were alone, together.

Tamsyn nodded at the giant in the room. “They’re all a little bit in love with her, aren’t they?”

Caswyn pondered her for a while. She smiled, and followed her gaze. “Save Papalymo, perhaps.”

“Thancred’s going to make a fool of himself.”

“He already has, he and Hoary both. It’s only a matter of time for Yda and Y’shtola and Urianger, if Moenbryda stays.”

“Urianger has it the worst of all, though they’d hate to hear me say it. At least Minfilia is smiling again.”

Caswyn looked at the Antecedent, laughing at one of Moen’s boasts and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Too much had weighed on Minfilia of late, from the invasion of Elidibus into the Waking Sands to the disappearance of the Isle of Val. The latter had driven a friend of Caswyn’s to imprison himself in magical slumber, for a number of ages only the Twelve could know. “It is good to see,” she agreed.

Tamsyn appeared to make up her mind. “I hope she stays. I think she’s good for them.”

“We will have broken hearts eventually,” Caswyn warned.

“There always will be.” Tamsyn smiled at her, sadly. “But for now, things are good.”

[spidersfanfics]

A Cold Wind Blows

Warrior of Light x Urianger | Minor WoL x Haurchefant | Minor Urianger x Moenbryda

The Warrior of Light mourns the passing of a dear friend on the anniversary of his death. And subsequently opens their heart to another.

A cold wind blew through Ishgard as Eorzea’s champion wandered the streets of Ishgard somewhat forlornly. The anniversary of a dear friend’s untimely departure was coming up and it was all you could think about these days. Even as the bitter chill snapped at your ankles, bidding you to move quickly, a deep melancholy slowed your steps until you were liable to freeze solid.

All knew enough of your relationships to allow their hero time to visit the grave on the day of. But as much as you would have gladly spent a whole week there, you knew better than to shirk your duties for that long. So instead of reminiscing on your past love, you roamed the city your knight in shining armor had given his life to protect. Feeling lost and restless.

Eventually, even the bravest of heroes had to concede that frostbite cared not for status. So you made your way back to the Forgotten Knight. Sure you would always have lavish living quarters with House Fortemps if you asked. But in times like these, it would only encourage you to shut yourself off from the world.

The barkeep waves to you as you enter but one look at your somber expression was enough to remind him of the date. So he simply nods and hands you a room key. “I’ll let the scions know where to find you if they ask?” He says softly, half statement, half question.

You nod once in response. If your friends needed you, you’d put on a brave face. And in the meantime you’ll indulge yourself in some wallowing. It got easier all the time to remember him for the way he lived, not the way he died. But at this time of the year the wound always stung. And even Hydaelyn’s chosen was only mortal.

You’d hardly settled into staring out the window however, when there came a knock at the door. Well that was quick. It seems the universe is not on your side today and you wonder what threat you were to face this time. No matter, duty is duty. You open the door.

“I hope I’m not interrupting thy peace?” Oh, it’s Urianger.

Your heart leaps into your throat as you notice what Urianger held in his hands. Two mugs of hot chocolate, just like another fair-haired elezen so long ago. And to make matters worse, this particular elezen also had a bad habit of turning you into a flustered mess.

Why was he here now? Today of all days. When it was too confusing and too painful to sort out your feelings. When every heartbeat echoed twice, first with longing then with guilt. The mage or the knight, to whom do you turn to? And now you’ve taken entirely too long to answer. So instead of stammering out a nonsensical reply, you do as the Warrior of Light does best. A stoic nod and a step back to indicate that Urianger was free to enter.

Urianger smiles softly and moves past you to set the mugs on the desk. “I heard thou wert feeling down, and for good reason. So I thought to bring thee something with which to soothe the soul. And perhaps offer a shoulder to cry on and a listening ear.” He shrugs awkwardly, “Thou has oft been the recipient of many a woe. I wanted to return the favor. Or, failing that, give whatever thou might desire in its stead.”

You can’t deny that his presence might help pull you out of the state you’ve been stuck in. So you scan the room for a place to sit and realize this inn is sorely lacking in chairs. Without any other options to speak of, you settle down on the edge of the bed and gesture for Urianger to join you. Which he does after only a moment of hesitation.

“Prithee speak, my friend,” Urianger says gently as he reaches over to pass you one of the hot chocolates. “Expression of emotion has seldom been my strong suit, but I wish now to share the burdens thou beareth. So tell me what thoughts troubleth thee so, and darkenth thy spirits.”

With shaky hands, you raise the mug to your lips and take a sip. Delicious of course, no doubt prepared by Tataru at Alphinaud’s request, or something of the like. After all, you felt certain this mini intervention was on behalf of all the scions, who’d simply chosen Urianger as their spokesperson. You wonder briefly if this meant that the others knew of your conflicted feelings. Then decided it didn’t matter, because even if they did, Urianger himself was surely oblivious.

The man in question seemed to take your silence for reluctance, rather than contemplation. As he hummed thoughtfully for a moment, then spoke. “I understand. Thou hath always been one of few words. So if it pleases thee, I would be glad to speak instead of mine own experiences. So that thou might feel less alone. Would that be better?”

You nod. That’s probably a much smarter idea. The longer he spent sitting here, in your room and drinking hot chocolate by your side, the more you were liable to say something stupid and impulsive. Better just to let him talk. He was so good at it anyway.

“I know thou wert close with Master Haurchefant, his loss must touch thee in ways few others can imagine,” he begins softly. “I myself have been subject to such loss before. A dear friend and dearer companion, to whom I was never able to speak the words. I know how isolating it can be. But I hope thou wilt remember that thou art never alone. For as long as thou hath us, your family.”

That’s right, Moenbryda. Urianger didn’t speak of her often. More now, certainly, than in the months following her death. But even so, it was always a touchy subject for him. And understandably so. They were close, perhaps even in the same way that you were with Haurchefant. After all, had you two not also lacked the time to say the words you wanted desperately to say? “I’m sorry,” you manage.

Urianger looks at you in surprise, “Whatever for?”

“Sorry that you had to be the one here with me,” you explain, “It must be worse for you, to see me in this state. A reminder of your own pain.”

“Hardly,” Urianger is quick to reassure you, “I came here of my own accord. And I would gladly take a thousand painful memories to relieve thee of thine own.”

You can’t help but smile at that. Ever the drama queen since he learned to come out of his shell. Just one of his many endearing qualities. Too many endearing qualities. “Will you tell me more about her?”

“Moenbryda?” Urianger furrows his brow in mild confusion as he looks down at you. “Whyever for? If it is a distraction thou seeketh, wouldst it not be better to speak of a cheerier subject?”

“It helps, I promise,” you insist. “I hardly had the time to know her. I want to know why you loved her.”

Urianger ducks his head at that, hiding a faint blush behind his own mug. “If thou insisteth. Thou knoweth of course that we met in childhood…” And on he went about his life before the scions. As a student of Louisoix, and a lonely bookish boy. Pulled out of his comfort zone by an overeager girl who grew into his dearest friend.

And as he tells his stories, you find yourself being swept along by his flowery words and flowing cadence. Until you too are speaking. Telling Urianger stories of your own about a different snowy night, with a different mug of hot chocolate, and a loyal knight.

Before long, you’re feeling much better than you were before and both your mugs are empty and discarded. Without thinking, you lean over to rest your head against Urianger’s shoulder. “Thank you,” you say lightly. “You’re better at this than you give yourself credit for.”

“Only because thou hath such an effect on me,” Urianger chuckles, “To lower any semblance of guard I could hope to put up.” He adjusts his arm so that you rested better against his side and looks away again. “Tis frightfully easy to relax around thee,” he admits. “And easier still to indulge in mine own selfish desires.”

“What sorts of desires?” you ask because you were never known for being the brains of the operation.

Urianger tilts his head so that the two of you are much closer than before to being eye-to-eye. “I very much doubt it is anything that wouldst interest thee,” he reassures you.

“Try me,” you reply with a smile. And in a surge of that signature impulsivity that makes you so good at your job, you move forward to kiss him.

For a moment you think your daring has paid off as you feel him lean in to meet you. But he lifts his head at the last moment and presses a hand against your back. Such that you bump softly against his chest and find yourself being held there. Gentle enough that you could pull back if you wanted to, but firm enough that you know he’d rather you didn’t.

“Urianger?” you ask, muffled slightly by his robes. “I don’t understand. If I was overly presumptuous I’m sorry. But could you at least let me up? If this is your idea of retaliation then trust me I feel awkward enough as it is.”

“It’s not that,” Urianger says shakily above you. “I wish rather to regain mine own composure lest thou meet mine gaze once more and this time I shall know not how to stop myself.” He goes quiet for a moment, leaving you to puzzle out what he means by that before finally removing his hand.

As you straighten up, you’re surprised to find his face flushed and bearing a strained expression. “My sincerest apologies,” he says falteringly as he raises a hand to hide his mouth. “The fault lieth solely with myself. And if I hath made thee uncomfortable, thou hath but say the word and I shall leave.” He doesn’t quite meet your eyes as you speak and you give him a look of confusion.

“What in the world are you talking about, Urianger?” you ask, “You know sometimes I really can’t make sense of you. And it’s not just because of the words you use. Did I or did I not misread your signals there?”

He shakes his head, “Thou didst not misconstrue anything. But t’was I who did not mean to reveal my desires.” He ducks his head down again, “For as much as I wish to indulge in thine company, I know that I do not deserve it.”

That answer catches you off guard. Both for the confession and the second admission. “Why not? I mean, I like you too, you know,” you blurt. Your breath catches for a moment as you wait to be struck down for saying it out loud. Especially so close to the most painful of death days. But when the world does not collapse, you reach out to touch his hand. “Do you want to try this?”

“Thou deserveth better than me,” Urianger mumbles. “And thou art too selfless by far. I lost one love already and could do nothing. I have pushed many more towards their early demise, at their own request. If ever thou wert persuaded to sacrifice thyself for the good of our star, I know not that I would stop thee then. But I know also that I could not forgive myself after.”

You can’t help but give a heavy sigh. A barrier you should have seen coming. And one that would easily be broken. “Urianger,” you say slowly, “Do you know how many people I’ve seen get hurt on my behalf?”

He begins to answer but you stop him before he can, “Too many, that’s the answer. For me. For my cause. Haurchefant he-” you pause. Saying his name out loud knocks the wind from your lungs. But you push onwards. “But they made their choice and I have to accept that. Because if I were to blame myself for every death I witnessed, I’d never take another step again. Yet I’m still standing here, aren’t I?”

Urianger finally turns his hand upwards to hold yours in return, rather than allowing you to simply rest over him. He runs his thumb over your hand thoughtfully, then squeezes it lightly. “Thou art the Warrior of Light. Hydaelyn’s chosen. Tis only right that thou wert more capable than I of shouldering thy burdens.”

“But that’s exactly it!” You insist, “I’m the hero. Everyone expects me to be on top of everything, always. I have to be perfect. But I’m not. I mess up all the time and I can’t save everyone. So don’t think that you have to either. Because if you can’t even forgive yourself then how could I ever be forgiven?”

That much renders him speechless. And as he gapes at you, slack-jawed, you find that you’ve induced a rare moment. Urianger, at a loss for words. So you take advantage of the moment to push onwards.

You pull your hand gently out of his grasp and lift both hands to cradle his face. Turning him to face yourself and forcing him to meet your eyes. "Still, I can promise you this,” you say, taking your time to make sure your words are resonating with him. “You will not lose me. Nor will I ever ask that of you. When my end comes it will be at the hands of time and nothing else. And if I should be so lucky, it will be by your side. I promise you tomorrow. So please, allow yourself this comfort. Few others on this star have given up as much as you have — we have. Let yourself be selfish, just this once. And let me too, be selfish. Please."

After a long moment, Urianger nods. He reaches up to caress your hand, before slowly lowering them back into your lap. “My thanks,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “I think I needed to hear that.” He then mirrors your previous actions, bringing his hands to your face. “And I think I would like to try this after all.”

So the last of the cold is chased away by the warmth of his mouth against yours.

[siderealcity]

Does anybody else ever wonder how the Archons connect to the Twelve? Just me? That's fair.

Back before the Praetorium fight, Alphinaud named the plan to take down the Black Wolf, "Operation Archon" on the basis that it required the cooperation of twelve major factions, and the Archons of legend were twelve in number. Which automatically associates them with The Twelve. So... speculation on who's who under the cut, I guess.

1. Louisoix -- Obviously aligns with Thaliak. The symbol for Thaliak is inscribed on Tupsimati.

2. Matoya -- I'm going to say that as the Keeper of the Antitower, she aligns with Nald'thal.

3. Y'shtola -- As the vehemently curious sun-seeker, I'm going to guess she's aligned with Azeyma, goddess of inquiry. And her conflict/connection to Master Matoya mirrors Azeyma and Nald'thal.

4. Urianger -- The student of prophesy seems most likely aligned with Nymeia, the goddess of Fate.

5. Yda (the real one, not Lyse) -- Was probably Rhalgr. I mean. She seems to have majored in punching. That's a no-brainer.

6. G'raha -- The one introduced to us as a happy-go-lucky archer, who still gets all excited about wandering on the eternal winds, and who was notably there for Myths of the Realm is almost definitely aligned with Oschon, tendency to be trapped in towers aside. (This might have also been why they initially thought of making him green instead of red.)

So, with the easy ones out of the way, that leaves us:

7. Rammbroes -- I'm going to throw him over to the Althyk column. I had initially thought maybe Byregot? Just... on the basis of vague tower-related stuff? But it makes more sense for the archaeologist to be associated with the god of time, I think.

8. Papalymo -- I'm guessing Byregot for him, on the basis that he's the counterpoint to Yda's Rhalgr.

9. Moenbryda -- I'm torn on this one. With moon literally being in her name, that makes her a shoe-in for Menphina, she wears blue and white, and being the sweetheart of just about everyone we know she kinda lines up with the goddess of love, but she's... really into axes, and she throws herself at Nabriales, the Convocation seat that governed combat? So she could also be aligned with Halone. And we meet her at the start of the plot that leads us to Ishgard, so...

I dunno. I might put her under Halone, the more I think about it.

10. Thancred -- Another tricky one. Being the guy who throws knives, and also being from Limsa originally, I am tempted to say he's aligned with Lymlaen. But also being the outrageous flirt throughout ARR, he could be the one lined up with Menphina.

11 and 12?? Mikoto and Kagura. Does Kagura still count, if she was stripped of her title? Mikoto is a super-nerd and has precognition. That could make her a good candidate for Althyk. But she's also in the relic weapon quest for Shadowbringers, and she's involved in crafting tools to stop Ultima, so... she could be Byregot? But she's also a twin, and her sister is described as "headstrong" and her colors are all ice-blue and white, so... she could be Menphina while Kagura goes with Halone.

But then again... Nophica and Lymlaen are unaccounted for, and they are also sisters.

It would help if somebody had a dog, is all I'm saying.

[tallbluelady]

Top 5 Minions!

Top 5 Minions, Miniture Blorbo Edition!

1. Brave New Urianger (Blorbo shaped)

2. Wind-Up Urianger (Blorbo in a potato sack shaped)

3. Wind-Up Moenbryda (Blorbo shaped)

4. Dress-up Yugiri (I need to do more stuff with Yugiri honestly)

5. Anima (well, this was the best fit… do the HW relics guys)

Thanks for the ask!

[bgm05]

only time censorship ever mattered in a video game was when ffxiv changed the wind-up moenbryda description so it no longer implied urianger hot glued it

[avirael]

Nameday Surprise

The air was still surprisingly warm for the time of the year and the wind carried the chatter of birds up to the city wall of Revenant‘s Toll, where Rael sat with their legs dangling over the edge. They wondered if the aether concentration here in Mor Dhona affected the seasons differently than they would in other parts of Eorzea. After all they were not too far from Coerthas and it was early in the Sixth Umbral Moon but the air, while not particularly warm, lacked any cold.

With closed eyes Rael raised their head to the sun, high in the sky above them, and breathed in deeply. The air in Mor Dhona sometimes had a strange quality to it. The day before had been very "gloomy" as the locals called it, which meant a weird aetherial kind of fog in the air. The first time Rael had seen the purple swirls in the sky they had been a little worried but the residents had assured them that it was an entirely harmless phenomenon. Today it was bright and clear again but the air while pure and fresh still had a hint of scent to it. With eyes closed Rael could almost still smell the aether and imagine the colourful swirls in the sky.

Carefully they listened to the wind coming from the east. Their gift had grown a little more unreliable the further they had traveled but especially today they hoped for any kind of sign, a whisper or a familiar scent maybe. It was selfish, their gift was meant for more important things, but they couldn’t help but hope nonetheless. Though the longer nothing happened the more gloomy Rael’s mood got, more representing the somber atmosphere from the day before than today‘s nice winter day.

"Rael!?", a familiar voice suddenly called out to them, tearing them from their thoughts. "What are you doing up there?"

Rael sighed. They didn’t need to look down to see who it was but did so anyway. Down below on the ground in front of the city gate stood a red-haired Miqo'te craning his neck to look up to them. So much for silence and solitude, they thought.

"Hello, A'viloh!", they yelled down to them. "I’m just enjoying the view. How about you?"

Curiously A'viloh tilted his head. "What?! I can’t hear you!"

"Excuse me…", Rael muttered with a shake of their head and a sigh correcting the Miqo'te, before repeating what they said before a little louder.

"Wait!!", A'viloh answered and hurried out of view. A few moments later Rael heard quick steps echoing from the stone steps of the staircase and another moment later the Miqo'te stood beside them catching their breath.

"You didn’t have to run, you know?", Rael said and wondered if anything urgent had occurred at the Rising Stones.

"Yes…", he said between gasps. "I realise that now too…"

Rael chuckled. Once he had recovered from his sprint up to the top of the city wall, A'viloh leaned onto the stone parapet and glimpsed down to the spot where he had stood a minute ago. "It looked a little more dangerous from down there…"

"Dangerous? Were you worried about me?", Rael teased and raised an eyebrow. "I already thought something happened at the Rising Stones."

"Nah…", the Miqo'te answered with disappointment written all over his face. "It’s very boring there right now. Moenbryda is still working on that device of hers and everybody else is busy too."

Rael nodded understandingly. "So you were bored and wondered if you could pester me instead?"

"Oh, someone’s in a good mood, huh?", A'viloh muttered and looked genuinely hurt, though Rael had assumed he knew their sense of humor by now. "I guess I‘ll better go then and be miserable somewhere on my own… Or maybe it’s not to late to visit Kikipu after all…"

"No.", Rael said quickly, a rueful expression on their face. "Please stay, you’re not bothering me." Slowly the Viera tapped the stone beside them gesturing for A'viloh to sit down. A grin spread across his face.

Hurriedly he climbed up onto the parapet and for a second, clumsy as he could be sometimes, Rael feared he might loose his footing and plummet down the other side of the wall. "So…", he started as he had sat down beside the Viera. "What are you doing all alone up here?"

"Nothing.", Rael shrugged. "Just enjoying the view…"

A'viloh followed Rael’s gaze across the landscape littered with debris of the Agrius and the Crystal Tower far off in the distance and tilted his head quizzically. "The Crystal Tower is pretty for sure. But the view of that wreckage? I‘m not sure I see the appeal…"

"No, just generally east…", Rael offered gazing to the horizon.

"What’s there?", A'viloh squinted but couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

Rael sighed. "Somewhere far to the east - further than you can see - is my home…"

"Oh!", A'viloh said and fell silent for a moment, looking out to the horizon, wondering how far away exactly Dalmasca was. Then he glimpsed at Rael and asked carefully, "Are you homesick?"

"A little.", Rael admitted, not knowing how to better put in words how they felt. They had started this journey to save their home. To save everything to be precise but particularly their home. It had been years since they left and they had learned a lot but Rael still wasn’t sure if they were any bit closer to achieving their goal or not. The fact that their visions kept failing them didn’t help to brighten their mood at all.

A'viloh sighed and looked down to the tips of his boots. "Me too, you know?…"

Rael nodded but feared that in A'viloh’s case it was less a where he missed than a when or a who. But maybe the feeling was similar enough. So for a while they just sat there in silence beside each other staring into the distance together.

"What is your home like?", A'viloh finally asked and looked at Rael. They thought they saw genuine interest in his eyes not just the attempt to make them feel better.

"The Golmore Jungle?", Rael asked and A'viloh nodded. "I‘m afraid that’s a secret…"

"A secret?", the Miqo'te exclaimed and looked at Rael pretending to feel insulted. "I tell you everything about me and in return you decide to keep secrets from me?"

His performance didn’t fail to make Rael smile. "I don’t make the rules, A'vi. We are forbidden to speak to outsiders about the Jungle."

A'viloh furrowed his brow. This time he really looked a little disappointed. He had probably hoped that Rael was just playing hard to get. "Why?"

Rael wondered how to explain this to him. "The Green Word forbids it, for our own safety. You would probably call it our religion but it’s not exactly that. It’s more like… just our way of living, I guess."

"Hmm…", the Miqo'te grumbled thoughtfully and didn’t look any smarter than before. "I guess that means we won’t be able to visit sometime?"

"My sisters and brothers would shoot you on the spot! And me right with you, I assume, for leading you there. With the increase of the Garlean's aggressions my people have grown quite hostile lately…" Rael pitied A'viloh a little. They were certain that he would love the Jungle and yet they would never be able to show it to him. It didn’t seem fair to be so secretive towards him after he had shared all of his worries and troubles so freely with them.

But more than that they really wished to be able to talk to him about their home. About their hopes and fears. Their visions. Their task. A'viloh had confided in them but there was no one Rael could confide in...

But was that really true?

Suddenly a thought crossed Rael’s mind. Maybe they weren’t allowed to talk about the Jungle, or the Green Word or the nature of their journey but they could speak about themself and their feelings. About the things that were of no crucial importance to anyone but them. Surely this wasn’t against the rules?

"I miss my family, A'vi.", they said silently, waiting for a strong gust from the east warning them to keep their mouth shut. But no such thing happened. "I came up here, I closed my eyes and imagined I was home. I hoped to remember anything familiar, my mother’s voice or the smell of the carrot cakes she always made for my nameday. But with every year on my own it’s gets more difficult to remember…"

Surprised A'viloh stared up to them. "Your nameday? Don’t tell me that’s today?!"

Rael nodded and blinked rapidly, trying their best not to cry, "Yes…". Irritated they noticed that A'viloh was giggling. Had they said something funny? Confused they looked at the Miqo'te but he only started to laugh more seeing Rael‘s puzzled face.

"I‘m so sorry." he excused himself after a moment and tried to get ahold of himself. "It’s just, you’re not alone at all! Today is my nameday too! You don’t have to spent it on your own and neither do I, isn’t that funny?"

"That can’t be true…", Rael just said dumbfounded.

"Would I lie to you?", A'viloh retorted. Of course he wouldn’t and even if he tried Rael was sure they would see through it.

"That’s a weird coincidence…", Rael pondered thoughtfully while A'viloh was extremely giddy about it. "Right?! Isn’t this nice?"

Rael couldn’t help but agree. It didn’t do anything to improve their situation but it felt strangely comforting and seeing A'viloh so happy about it made them at least a little happy too. After all it was something they could share, even when so much else was meant to remain secret.

"Why didn’t you say something earlier though?", Rael asked and suddenly wondered the same about themselves.

"I didn’t think it would be necessary.", A'viloh shrugged. "I was pretty sure Tataru wrote down my nameday when I signed up and somehow I expected at least her to remember. But no one did and I guess you can’t just loudly announce that it’s your nameday and assume everybody will celebrate with you although they‘re all horribly busy!"

"I guess not…", Rael agreed and wondered if there was a way to give A'viloh the nameday celebration he so obviously wanted and in their opinion also deserved. But before they could think of anything the Miqo'te jumped up and announced, "I have an idea! We could try to make this cake you mentioned. You remember how it was made, do you?"

There he stood on the parapet, happily flicking his ears and tail. Rael already could see him falling to his death. Quickly they stretched out their arms. "Yes… of course. But would you please sit down again?"

With an exaggerated gesture A'viloh jumped back down to the walkway of the city wall and waved for Rael to follow him. "Splendid! Come on! I‘m sure F'lhaminn has everything me need for the cake!"

But F'lhaminn did not seem to have everything necessary, in fact she looked rather alarmed when she saw the two of them walk into The Seventh Heaven, where she currently was talking to the barkeep. She explained to them how she was going to the market anyway because some of her ingredients had run low and she urgently needed new ones and asked if they would be so kind to accompany her. After all she wouldn’t be able to carry everything on her own…

So they went to the market, where they spent a good while trying to find everything F'lhaminn and Rael needed. In the end all that was left were carrots. For lack of authentic carrots from the Golmore Jungle, Rael assumed that the regular ones would do fine - it were just normal carrots after all.

F'lhaminn however objected. She said she hadn’t been to Dalmasca yet but if they planned on making a dessert, she knew exactly were to get the right kind of carrot, a special breed that was said to be especially sweet and was, as far as she knew, only sold in Gridania.

Rael thought that it probably wouldn’t matter but F'lhaminn insisted that she wanted to try these special ones and so A'vi and Rael teleported to Gridania while the Miqo'te women returned to the Rising Stones to start preparing dinner. Suddenly the groceries weren’t too heavy for her to carry on her own at all, as she shooed them away.

In Gridania however their search turned out to be more difficult than expected. They went to all shops and asked everyone they could think of but no one seemed to ever have heard of that special carrot breed F'lhaminn had mentioned. Even Miounne just shrugged at them in confusion and began to suggest alternatives instead. In the end they just bought regular carrots.

"I don’t understand this", A'viloh wondered as they walked through the Ebony Stalls. "F'lhaminn wouldn’t make something like this up, wouldn’t she? I mean why should she?"

"Don’t worry. These will do perfectly fine." Rael reassured him, not giving much thought to their strange scavenger hunt. "I‘m sure it was just a misunderstanding. Or maybe she remembered it wrong…"

It was almost evening when they returned to Revenant‘s Toll. The sun set early this time of the year and already vanished behind the tall buildings as they walked into the Seventh Heavens. While passing by the barkeep waved and grinned at them but was gone to another table full of customers before either of them could say hello.

As they passed through the door leading to the Rising Stones Rael immediately noticed that something was off. The lights were quite low and not a single person was to be seen. Not a sound was to be heard.

"Where is everyone?", A'viloh sounded a little startled too and Rael couldn’t blame him considering the last time they had found the Scion's headquarters in literal dead silence. With flattened ears he slowly stepped past empty chairs and tables, Rael right behind him ready to hurl their bag of carrots at anyone who dared to attack them.

Suddenly a giggle sounded from behind one of the room dividers followed by multiple shushing sounds and a voice silently hissing, "Yda!". That had unmistakably been Papalymo! Confused Rael and A'viloh glanced at each other. Then the Miqo'te took the last few steps so he could peek around the divider. With a surprised gasp he raised a hand to his mouth. As he turned to beckon Rael over his eyes were shining and a wide happy grin appeared on his face.

Just as the Viera stepped beside A'viloh and saw all the Scions huddled together in their hiding spot, they started to sing a nameday song together. A few of them were more out of tune than some others but altogether it was quite heartwarming. A'vi‘s ears wiggled happily and even Rael couldn’t help but smile too.

They stood around a small table filled with different food and a nice looking cake, carrot of course - F'lhaminn wasn’t going to let that opportunity pass - and one after the other steps forward to congratulate and hug them both. It all was so sweet Rael didn’t even think to protest.

It turned out to be a very nice evening full of spirited conversation and laughter. The cake by the way was sublime, just as everything F'lhaminn made. It was not exactly the same as their mother used to make it but the gesture alone was very touching and the memories it brought back made Rael blink away a tiny tear or two as they thanked the Miqo'te woman for her effort. Rael couldn’t remember the last time they had so much fun and neither could recall ever seeing A'viloh this happy. With a few yalms distance they glanced over at the red-haired Miqo'te who was in a conversation with Thancred.

Just then Papalymo stepped closer following the Viera‘s gaze. "Don’t be disappointed.", he said and earned a confused look in response. "Why?"

"We decided not to spoil the surprise but I guess I can tell you. We commissioned the carpenters in Gridania to craft you an Orchestrion for your house. It was a bit short-notice though, so it will still take a few days before it arrives at your home.", the Lalafell explained and looked up to Rael.

"Oh!", Rael exclaimed. They hadn’t expected to get any gifts. "That’s very kind of you, thank you so much… but why tell me now if the others wanted to wait?"

Papalymo shrugged and made a gesture towards A'vi and Thancred. "I don't want you to think that we forgot to get you something. It was supposed to be a shared gift from all of us for the two of you. But it looks like our dear Thancred there went the extra malm and got another gift."

Surprised Rael turned their head back towards A'viloh and indeed it seemed like he was holding a gift in his hands. Rael grimaced painfully. They knew this meant a lot to A'vi but on the other hand given Thancred‘s recent behaviour they also hoped that the poor boy wouldn’t get his hopes up now.

"It’s not much but the others and I thought we should at least get you something.", Rael heard the Hyur say. Papalymo, who seemed to have been listening as well huffed but didn’t say anything. Obviously Thancred had gotten a gift just for A'vi and was too much of a coward to admit that it was his. So of course he was lying again.

"Err… thank you…", A'viloh stuttered looking down at the gift to avoid looking at Thancred. "You really shouldn’t have though…"

"Don’t mention it! Go on! Open it.", Thancred suggested and as A'viloh unknotted the ribbon and opened the box he added, "I heard you recently made a few peculiar new friends in Limsa. Maybe this will help you with your training."

Rael craned their neck to see what was inside the box but the angle was too bad. They were curious and so seemed to be the Lalafell beside them. "What is it?", Papalymo asked.

"Can’t see…", Rael replied with furrowed brows and wondered if it was safe to step a little closer without catching their attention. That decision was taken from them though, as Riol appeared, said a few friendly words to A'vi and then whispered something to Thancred. The later laughed nervously but then excused himself. "Give my regards to Jacke when you see him next.", he said as he left.

A'viloh nodded absentmindedly before asking in confusion. "Wait, you know Jacke?" But Thancred was already out of earshot or at least pretended to be.

Rael waited a moment and observed the Miqo'te who didn’t really know what to do next. Then Rael stepped closer and innocently asked, "What do you have there?"

A'viloh startled a little, as if he had been caught at something. "Oh, hello Rael…", they said smiling pleasantly. "Um, it’s nothing really…"

"Nothing?", the Viera retorted and raised their eyebrows. "So Thancred gifts you a box with nothing inside?"

"What? No!", the Miqo'te blurted out, visible ashamed for getting caught. "Wait! Were you watching me?"

"Don’t be silly. I just wanted to ask wether you still want some cake before Yda and Moen finish it off…", they answered and then nodded at the box. "Will you tell me though what that is?"

A'viloh looked a little hesitantly at the Viera. "I didn’t mean to spoil the surprise, you don’t seem to have gotten your present yet. Thancred said they got it together for me. So I assume you're getting something too…"

Rael pondered wether they should tell him the truth and why Thancred would have lied in the first place. Apart from lying being like breathing for him, of course. "I don’t think so…"

"Huh?", A'viloh didn’t seem to understand. "Why wouldn’t you get something."

"No, that’s not what I meant!", Rael rolled their eyes. "We are getting a gift. It‘s arriving a little late and I’m not going to tell you what it is. Papalymo told me about it."

The Miqo'te still looked at them as if they spoke a different language and then turned his puzzled gaze down to the gift box in his hands.

"This I assure you…", Rael started to explain and pointed at the present. "…is solely from Thancred."

"No…", A'viloh protested and then added a little more weakly. "Why would he do that?"

Rael put on an innocent face. "Yes, why would he?..."

They could almost see how A'vi‘s brain was trying to solve that riddle. Thoughtfully he opened the gift box again to stare at the content. In it lay a dagger and on top of it a little card with neat letters. Rael snatched the card out of the box before A'viloh could stop them and observed it closely.

May this blade always keep you safe from harm., was written there in neat cursive words.

"I didn’t expect Thancred to have such nice handwriting.", Rael wondered but A'viloh wasn’t really listening anymore. Instead he looked at the dagger as if it was going to explain itself to him any moment now. It was a very fine blade of a bluish silver color. For a second Rael had thought it was engraved but the swirly pattern on it stemmed from the material itself. It’s hilt was wrapped in creamy white leather and the overall quality of the dagger was remarkable. If Rael and A'viloh had crafted it themselves they couldn’t have done it any better. Rael wondered were Thancred had gotten it and how big of a fortune he had payed for it.

"That’s a very nice dagger.", Rael stated a little impressed. They couldn’t imagine Thancred put so much effort - and money - into all of his conquests. But then again they still highly doubted that he was honest about this and wouldn’t end up breaking poor A'viloh‘s heart, as much as they wished otherwise for A’vi’s sake.

"Mhm…", he simply muttered in agreement and Rael could see that he was starting to brood over this, so they pushed the card back into the box and cheerfully asked, "So, what about the cake now? If you don’t hurry there will be nothing left!"

That seemed to attract the Miqo'te’s attention after all. "No way!", he exclaimed. "I still want some too. That whole big cake can’t be gone already!"

Rael chuckled and followed him as he hurried to get another slice. Today wasn’t the right day to be gloomy, they decided. Because against all odds this birthday had turned out to be one of the funniest and happiest they could remember although neither Rael nor A'viloh could celebrate it with their family. But the people here, their friends, were just as good as that.

[kootiepatra]

#FFxivWrite2023 - Day 19: Weal

To say that Keimwyda was comfortable conversing with the First Brood would be something of an overstatement.

Of course, she knew by now that they varied in personality as much as any family may, and Nidhogg alone of the siblings had proven wholly averse to reason. In some ways, it was remarkably possible to simply speak with them as one would any other person. Vrtra in particular struck her as the gentlest and most approachable of those whom she had met.

Yet there was no getting around their immensity, nor their ancient wisdom and might. They had an ineffable presence about them. So much the more with this one, who also served in secret as the satrap of one of the most deeply-respected nations in the world.

But that was not why Keimwyda felt her stomach sinking as she met with him in Meghaduta. Rather, it was the reason he had requested she stay for an audience that troubled her. He had for her a genuine, sober warning—one which she could only wish she could disagree with.

“Upon thy life’s reel wind too many threads,” the dragon rumbled. “Of fate. Power. Weal enmeshed with woe. Amidst this tangled knot, thou shalt know no rest. ‘Tis an endless confluence of forces; a struggle without surcease.”

Keimwyda’s eyes fell to the ground as she tried to think of anything to say. There was no point in protesting. He was right. She felt it. Gods did she feel it. But what choice did she have?

Vrtra observed her for a moment, then continued. “More terrible still is the attrition wrought upon thy companions, as they are swept up in the storm of thine existence.”

The words pierced her through the heart. She thought of the massacre at the Waking Sands when Livia had been looking for her. She thought of the Scions who risked their own lives that she may escape the Crystal Braves’s betrayal. She thought of her friends whisked away one by one, souls torn from bodies, as the Exarch had been trying to summon her. And then the way those friends fairly turned Norvrandt upside down looking for a cure for her, when she was on the brink of becoming the very monster who would destroy them all.

She thought of Minfilia. Moenbryda. Haurchefant. Ysayle. Papalymo. If Keimwyda had not been who—or what—she was, would they still be alive?

“For those we have lost, for those we can yet save…” Minfilia had taught her. Keimwyda had never thought to weigh the former group against the latter, but now she could not help but do so. It was irrational, and she knew it, but in the moment she could only wonder which way those scales would tip, with precious little confidence they would balance in a way that justified the toll her life exacted upon those around her.

Before she could stop herself, the only words she could think of fell from her lips in a shaky near-whisper: “I did not wish for it to be so.”

Vrtra said nothing in reply. He inclined his head at her questioningly.

“I…” she halted, and shook her head to clear it. “Forgive me, great Vrtra. I have spoken out of turn.”

“Nay. Speak thy mind.”

She bit her lip and averted her eyes once more. Was it even appropriate to say aloud?

But Vrtra kept patiently still, waiting for her to continue her thought.

She sighed, and tried to broach the subject as respectfully as she could. “I have never sought to be the ‘Warrior of Light’. When I began, I had no aspirations to so much as set foot outside of Eorzea’s borders. I barely even thought myself an ‘adventurer’. I was merely trying to find my way. 

“But ever since the Scions helped me understand my gift, and what it could mean for the world were I to use it for the good of others, I have felt duty-bound to do so. Never did I wish to have renown, or even to have power. I simply… I simply wish to do what is right. To use what strength I have to serve how I may. ‘Tis all I have ever wanted.”

“I doubt not thine intentions, Scion,” the dragon replied.

“You are gracious,” she continued, feeling her throat constrict with grief, “but I cannot deny the truth of what you say. Yet… I do not want to hold all these threads. I know too well my frailty. I would spare my companions the storm of my existence. …But I did not ask for this. I did not wish for this. I can find it no more in my power to lay it down, than I could have chosen to awaken to the Echo in the first place. I deeply regret all the pain I have caused. My heart breaks for it. …Yet I do not know what else I may do.”

“Thinkest thou I speak thus to rebuke thee?” Vrtra asked with a gentle incredulity.

Keimwyda stared. What else could it be? What else did she deserve? “I… would not contest you if you did,” she managed to reply.

He shook his head, and the motion rippled down the scales and spines along his neck. “Take not upon thyself the blame for that which fate alone decides,” he said. “Know that I desire not to chastise, but to warn. From thy response, thou knowest well the cost upon thy companions.”

She nodded, and had to all but force herself to speak an answer. “I do.”

“Succumb not to the impulse to withdraw from them.”

Keimwyda looked up at him once more, eyes wide in surprise.

“Rather, take heart, and protect them well. They will be your strength and your salvation. The hope thou wilt need, come the end. They will require thy presence to defend them, just as thou wilt require theirs to strengthen your heart.” 

The Warrior of Light was at a loss for words.

Now it was Vrtra’s turn to look away in thoughtful sadness. He continued, “Even cowering behind my curtain, I know the suffering of the powerful. I have watched my siblings driven mad by loss. Thus, do I exhort thee to spare no effort to keep thy loved ones safe.”

As he turned his eye back upon her, she saw the centuries of sorrow. Nidhogg, driven to rage and destruction, even turning against his own kin. Hraesvelgr, in bitter loneliness refusing to strive for the peace Shiva taught him to long for. Tiamat, chained for millennia, too fraught with guilt and grief to break free. Vrtra’s advice was not lightly given. So neither did Keimwyda lightly receive it.

She would tell no one what she and the satrap discussed that day. But neither would she forget it. For those she could yet save, she would take heart, and protect them well.

[okami-zero]

HOW DOES YOSHI P. EXPECT ME TO FINISH A DUTY THROUGH SO MANY TEARS?!

The Aitiascope... just... happy and sad tears... oh man... And my fucking muse decides to rear its head after trying to put pen to paper for so long...

~~~

As they ventured forward, shortly after encountering Moenbryda’s spirit, who aided with her mighty axe, another appearance gave them pause. A sword and kite shield, bearing the heraldry of House Fortemps. Akagi froze. He approached slowly, and he felt his throat tightening, tears he thought long shed blurring his vision. He placed a gauntleted hand upon the shield.

“Haurche…?” he whispered.

A rush of healing aether flowed outward and over them, and Akagi had a sudden remembrance of a joyous smile, and the smell of cocoa after the sting of Ishgardian winds. He smiled in return, as his dear friend’s spirit moved onward.

Because a smile better suits a hero, after all.

~~~

Tis but a WIP, and whether more gets added, who knows? But, Papalymo was a warm fuzzy surprise, Moenbryda had me pumping my fist and choking up a bit and then... well. Akagi's reaction mirrors my own. Because I had trouble seeing anything for a a bit. And then, well, she, Minfilia herself, showed up and... ugh. Manged to recover enough to slap Amon around, feeling kind of like didn't we miss someone? I mean, she was only with us so long, but...

...and then Shiva appeared and, well...

Geez, just remembering is making me tear up, godsdammit, I am such a fucking softy. >.<

Also, FUCK YOU ASAHI, you bootlicking Zenos simp I fucking swear. Yea, you better bugger off! Punkass bitch...

And NOW, Akagi gets a rematch millenia in the making. Granted, Hydealyn née Venat is, well. A fucking DEITY, now. So that might make things difficult. But no backing down from a challenge. But!

I GET TO BRING. EVERYONE. WITH ME.

So we gonna jam.

[miqolena]

Endwalker Retrospective

There's a question going around on twitter about what was the most memorable part of Endwalker for you. My thoughts are too scattered and numerous for twitter so I decided to reflect on what I remember of the whole of 6.0.

When I was writing my diary I mostly focused on recording things for writing purposes - I was very fanfic oriented and experiencing the expansion at the beginning in that sort of mindset, though that fell away as I got deeper in. On the first day I woke up at 5am to get into the 1.6k queue, got the 2002 error once, and got in first try after that. This would define my days for weeks to come. I would get up at 5-ish am and log in and never log off if I could help it, for fear that I would get kicked and have to deal with the login queue. While I was going through the plot this was easy to maintain because I was active, but afterwards I couldn't take naps over 15 minutes because of the inactivity timer. And I ran myself ragged staying up late and getting up early over the course of probably a week and then, to a lesser extent, a month-ish.

That sleep deprivation probably ended up defining a lot of how I experienced Endwalker. My stress about the game's plot and my drive to be in the game as soon as possible and stay on as long as possible made me something halfway towards physically ill. By the third day I was running on empty, and I wept dramatically at the scene with Moenbryda's parents and pretty much everything that followed. I remember during the final fight I was fighting back tears until "Our song of hope, she dances on the wind, higher, oh higher" kicked my teeth out.

As for my thoughts on the areas/their plots as a whole, pulled from memory and my Endwalker diary:

Sharlayan

I thought Sharlayan was beautiful, and I liked the tension between the Forum and the Scions. I highlighted the flower scene in my diary, but I was so tired I don't remember what I was feeling about it, really. I felt concern for Krile.

Each return to Sharlayan felt like coming back to more tension, but it was the kind of tension I knew would resolve in Lena's favor, so that wasn't anything that concerned me overmuch. It was the rest of the plot, the other areas, that I was worried with.

Thavnair

I liked all of the characters in Thavnair, especially Nidhana. The Final Days coming there was very stressful, and I remember crying or nearly crying at the scene with Matsya and the baby. I've had some time to let the areas become dull to me in the sense that I see them for gameplay and move through them with that purpose, so Thavnair is a little less colorful now, but despite that I still really enjoy the inspiration they drew from real world cultures.

I loved Vrtra. I wanted more of him. Which is good for me in 6.1+.

I had no particularly strong feelings for Ahewann, and I recognize that it would take a lot of effort and money to animate each class (and each future class) responding to a threat via combat in a cutscene, so I wasn't very moved about him dying in that scene where Lena clearly could have done something but didn't.

Garlemald

I screamed so hard when Gaius showed up and was perfectly fine with him keeping back from Garlemald because this meant I didn't have to try writing him and those inevitable conflicts. His reasons made sense and it was fine.

My opinion on the section as a whole was mixed and over time has shifted to a different kind of mixed. I loved the darkness and despair of the Garlemald plot - it weighed on me so heavily in a way that many stories don't. In From the Cold was not so traumatizing for me as it was for my friends, but I still was shocked and scared, and it was traumatizing for Lena.

Learning later that they had in some ways wanted to do an entire expansion wrapping up Garlemald, and hearing people allege over and over again that they cut Garlemald time for Loporrit time, adds some insult to the injury of the depths they couldn't reach, the story that wasn't told, and what was told too quickly. Sometimes it feels like I'm being pushed into being mad about Garlemald, and overall I liked the initial segment a lot, so I'm inclined to dig in my heels a bit despite people I respect making really good points. Oh well. Mixed feelings forever, I guess.

Moon

The Zodiark switchup got me, hook line sinker. I had totally thought he or Hydaelyn would be the final boss.

I understand and appreciate the comedic relief that the Loporrit section, but I spent the entire time screaming internally about having restarted the Final Days, guys we need to go back to the star NOW, what are we DOING, this is STUPID-

Elpis

I will admit, when he showed up, the Emet shipper in me lifted its head like an old dog next to a fire hearing footsteps coming in from the front door. It was exciting to run around with him and Hythlodaeus and later Venat. But that part of me had been wrapped up and tied off with a bow, and I don't have shippy feelings about Emet anymore, so it was in some ways hard to get into this part. Also by then I was starting to really feel the sleep deprivation, which dulls my feelings and perception of things.

I initially thought "evil aliens" for Meteion's freakout, and I don't remember how I felt about the reveal. Today I'm like... it's okay I guess? I like it well enough. No strong feelings.

I have no strong feelings on Hermes either. I think he's fine. A bit of an idiot, maybe. He holds absolutely no interest to me as a character even if you slap the ol' depression label on him, because I have already progressed through a lot of journey with mental health and I have no desire to engage with stories of characters who are struggling with theirs.

Ultima Thule

I knew none of the Scions would die at this part. They would be returned to Lena at the end of all this, somehow, and this was only confirmed for me when Y'shtola was like "lol use the Azem crystal thing". Still, their sacrifices were emotionally impactful - but I was REALLY feeling the sleep deprivation by then, I was completely emotionally wrecked. The slightest thing was making me cry. I shuffled through each event like a zombie.

Like I said, the final battle had me sobbing.

Conclusion

Next time I will get more sleep, queue be damned. And I will take better notes in my expansion diary.

[alicesadventuresinffxiv]

FFxivWrite2024 Prompt #17

Title: Sally forth, to endings unwritten

Wordcount: 693

Spoilers Through: Stormblood

Alternate Universe: To Catch a Falling Star

Relationships & Characters: Fordola/Lyse

Summary: Lyse makes her own choice as she and Fordola flee the Resonatorium.

(This was a tough prompt… I just couldn’t figure out how to work Krile into it, so after discarding several ideas I started fresh with more TCaFS instead. This is a scene from near the “end” of that AU’s version of Stormblood. Consider it a teaser of where the characters wind up?)

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“Lyse. Wait.” 

Lyse stumbled to a stop, her feet carrying her several steps forward across the deep sand. 

“We… we’re not going to make it.” Fordola staggered to put an arm against the nearby rock face. Her expression briefly contorted with pain, fingers clenched white-knuckled against the stone outcrop as she fought off whatever the sensation was. But even as she swayed, she never once dropped the Lalafell still slung unconscious over her back.  

“What do you mean?” Lyse turned around, though her instincts screamed to continue sprinting. Every moment they tarried was another moment less they would have to spread word to the fighters at Specula Imperatoris. “We’re halfway there! We have to make it!”

Fordola straightened. It seemed the last of the dizziness that had been affecting her had passed. “Not at the rate we’re going, we won’t. Castrum Abania’s hooked up to the transceiver network like most installations.” She shook her head. “They’ll give the word that I haven’t arrived. And when Zenos finds I’ve cut and run, he’ll just give the order himself.”

A faint trickle of dread shivered down Lyse’s spine. “No. No. I know where you’re going with this, and I won’t let you!”

“One of us has to go to the Castrum. Sabotage the control room if we can. Fend off the Garleans if we can’t. Maybe even exchange a few blows with Zenos, should he show his face.” She craned her neck, gazing south towards the enormous cannon looming over the Peaks. “And pray that whatever time that buys will be enough.”

“You won’t have any means to escape! You will die.” Like Yda. Like Moenbryda. Like Papalymo. The trickle of dread had become a torrent drowning Lyse’s thoughts.

“Will I?” Fordola lowered her gaze to meet Lyse’s eyes, that strange red glow burning bright in one of her own. “Who knows what I can do now? The Warrior of Light’s nearly an army to himself with the Echo. Mayhap I’ve got that in me now too.”

Lyse took a deep breath. She would not panic now. Shouting and begging had not stopped Papalymo from going to his death. Nor would Lyse’s presence have stopped Shinryu.

Let me go instead. Those were the words Lyse wanted to say. But the truth was this: she’d seen exactly how that would end. A futile attempt to fight off a swarm of soldiers. She’d surely take many of them down with her, but she would fall to exhaustion quickly enough. Just like Yda.

“I owe your sister a debt I’ve yet to repay,” Fordola responded to the memory. “And I can’t lose you, too.”

Another truth was this: both the Resistance and the Skulls trusted Lyse. Should Fordola arrive to give warning, she’d like as not be cut down. But Lyse, and Lyse alone, might be able to persuade both sides to listen and to evacuate.

What had Raubahn once said? 

'Tis one thing to risk your life for a cause. But to risk that of another is a burden no soldier is ever truly ready to shoulder.

Lyse wasn’t ready. But she’d weighed the odds, and the choice needed to be made now.

“Promise me this,” she finally said. “That you’ll fight to survive, not to die. Buy as much time as you can, of course. But if you have a chance to escape, I want you to take it.”

“Aye, that I will.” Fordola was already undoing the straps that held Krile to her back. She carefully placed the small woman into Lyse’s outstretched arms and nodded down at her. “The lass deserves an apology, at least.”

Lyse forced herself to smile. “See to it that you’re there to tell her.”

Fordola mirrored that awkward little smile. Then her eyebrows knit together. “Lyse, I… ah, to hells with teary goodbyes.” She suddenly darted in, planting a swift kiss on the shorter woman’s mouth. “Don’t die yourself, idiot.”

“I love you too,” Lyse whispered as she watched Fordola kick off into a sprint through the southern sands.

One last look. Then Lyse hefted Krile to her chest, and sallied forth to resume her own frantic race against fate.

[nebula-drcams]

Specifically more for timelines outside of the main FFXIV verse I have with Nimue, but you know those wind-up minions you get of the scions or of characters you meet? Well Nimue has those, but instead of them being minions, they're little figures that sit on a shelf in her library. She has the following ones;

Wind-up Godbert Wind-up Hildibrand { it's technically called gentleman } { w/ the lil Nashu addon since she pops out from the minion itself } Wind-up Pupu Wind-up G'raha Tia Wind-up Alpha Wind-up Moenbryda Wind-up Aymeric Wind-up Haurchefant Wind-up Cid Wind-up Alphinaud Wind-up Papalymo Wind-up Yda Wind-up Y'sthola Wind-up Gilgamesh Wind-up Thancred Wind-up Minfilia

But instead of her like .. getting these herself, someone just keeps sending her the damn things and she just ?? Keeps them ?? Like they just show up in her mailbox but she has them now and they just .. stay there. She has in fact asked the Scions + Godbert if they know where they came from, but none have given her an answer.

Her true " minion " is just Gigi who follows her around for adventures.

[thancrxdwatxrs]

The Ishgardian blizzard was always bitterly cold, but Vincent had slowly grown used to it during his time in hiding. On this day in particular, he hardly felt the cold at all. There was a numbness that washed over his as he approached the all-too-familiar marker, the shield of House Fortemps still resting upon the stone undisturbed. The Miqo'te let out a shaky sigh, his breath a visible fog, as he knelt down and placed a flower upon the grave.

He had already lost so many friends - Minfilia, Moenbryda, Papalymo... He had replayed each and every moment in his mind. Had he been faster, stronger, had done something... Perhaps Harchefaunt would still be among the living.

He lifted a hand to wipe away a stray tear.

"If only you could see the world as it is...and what lies beyond. It's so beautiful... You would have loved it."

The wind picked up, sending a shiver down the monk's body. He pulled his coat tighter around his frame before standing up, taking another moment to say a silent prayer for his fallen friend.