#XIV. TEMPERANCE — answered .

[hjlock]

🐬

Send🐬for our muses to swim with the dolphins.

"you can swim, right?"

he probably should've asked this before literally right now, but hey, he's called lock, not goethe. nobody ever accused him of being intelligent. plus, how's he supposed to just like... intrinsically know whether or not someone knows how to swim? he's not exactly used to this whole... ocean tour guide thing, either, never really the swimming type despite being half-siren, or whatever. you'd think he'd be more into it, having been raised exclusively by his siren mother, but you'd be mistaken.

"y'know, dolphins are like, assholes. like, there's a ton of stories about shitty dolphins doing fucked- sorry- messed up shit. it's crazy that people like them so much, especially all those people thinking dolphins are a family-friendly version of sharks, or whatever. sharks are way more chill, and they get a bad rep for like, no fuckin' - fuck, sorry - for no reason." he's never been a dolphin fan, not that it's hard to tell. "most sharks have bad vision, and they've been doing these studies that say some species of sharks sometimes try to figure out what shit is by biting it using these receptors in their teeth. so like, even if they bite without provocation, which most species don't, it's probably not even their fault."

realising he's been rambling, lock looks sheepish, running his hand through his hair. "sorry. you didn't sign up to hear me rant about sharks. the dolphins are over off this side." he gestures towards the other side of the little boat that had taken them out here, leaning over to see over the side.

[coldshrugs]

hi Azia! since I'll probably never play FFXIV but want to gobble up everything you've ever written or will write for Io and Estinien, I was wondering if you could kind of summarize or describe the context for their relationship in the canon universe. what do I need to understand about their history in order to better appreciate the way they fit? how do they meet and what brings them together? are there some universal truths for each WoL that heavily contribute to who Io is (kind of like how Hawke in DA2 loses half their family, or every Shepard in Mass Effect is deadish for two years)?

no pressure to answer if you don't have the time/energy or just plain don't want to! ok thanks love you bye 💙

🧍

Hi Ells. I am so sorry....

Understanding Estinio

General World Lore: The story of XIV begins five years after a Calamity (an event of large-scale devastation that leaves the land and people struggling to recover). This is the seventh Calamity over a period of 13,000 years. Other notable world happenings are:

the Dragonsong War: a war between man and dragon that has raged in and around Ishgard for one thousand years

the more recent advancement of the Garlean Empire: Garlemald is a technologically advanced nation seeking to "unite" the world under its rule

Warrior of Light Things: The player character is almost a completely blank slate. Their appearance and combat proclivities are entirely up to the player! Their backstory is not really mentioned, and the only thing we know about them from the start is that they're an Adventurer, which in this setting is someone who wanders here and there, helping with whatever odd jobs they can in hopes of earning a living and maybe some local fame too. A little network of unionized Hometown Heroes. But some things hold true for most WoLs (headcanons notwithstanding):

They have a gift called The Echo. A few other characters have the gift, but it can manifest differently from person to person. The WoL's Echo allows them to visit scenes from the past, sometimes through the eyes of another and sometimes as a kind of bodiless spectator, usually triggered by high emotion from a person or place. It also has a few other functions.

They join the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, an organization that's a bit of an open secret, determined to stop Primal summoning (Primals are replications of gods, the will of a people made manifest, and they are powerful and destructive. If most people venture too close, they become enthralled). Recruited for their prowess in combat (or healing, maybe, if you're not Io) and apparent inability to be tempered by Primals, they, of course, become the team's most powerful asset.

Io Laithe is my WoL, a viera born in the Garlean-occupied region of Dalmasca. When she was 19/20, her home village suffered a violent raid, and her family was lost. She managed to escape and flee far to the west. At the beginning, she's around 29 and an accomplished archer, among other things. Io endures more loss over her story, friends and lovers, and she blames herself over and over. She struggles to lay down her grief and represses her anger for so long that she almost loses herself to it at one point, but she claws her way back with the help of her friends. She's soft-spoken, and reserved, but is also deeply kind and surprisingly funny. (This paragraph is short but I feel like I talk about her so much lmao. Trying not to gush too hard)

Estinien Varlineau was born to a family of sheepherders, in a small farming community outside Ishgard. When he was 12, his village was razed to the ground in a dragon attack. He found the charred remains of his parents outside his home (his dad had tried to shield his mom from the dragon fire). His younger brother was inside, trapped under a collapsed beam but already gone. He was the only survivor, and was taken in by a man named Alberic who held the title of Azure Dragoon (the most powerful lance-wielder in the land, but I'll spare you the specifics. There's dragon-y magic and a literal dragon eye that gives them powers. This was supposed to be quick omfg). Estinien swore to avenge the deaths of his family and trained with Alberic, eventually becoming the next Azure Dragoon. Eventually, he gets his vengeance, but the cost is so much more than he expects. At the end of it, he is begging for his own death, but his friends (the WoL included) refuse to let him go out like that and save him. He's since been on a journey of self-discovery; who is he without the drive to avenge those he lost, without his duty or his post? In personality, Estinien is blunt and abrasive, he cannot read a room (but he would like to leave it). He has a sharp sense of humor and often teases his few friends, he's extremely sentimental, he's very protective of the people he cares for, and can't stop himself from helping a kid in need.

Relationship Summary

They overlook each other at first. Io finds Estinien too harsh and rude. He thinks (since she is seeing Haurchefant at the time, who is... affiliated with a noble house of Ishgard) that Io is another pretty girl grabbing at coattails--surely not the "great warrior" he's heard about. And it takes a journey into dragon country for them to warm up to each other, when he learns she can easily hold her own, and she sees how protective and kind he can be to their traveling companions. They become friends and it's easier than either of them expected. They don't talk about their loss with each other though, not for a long time. Both hear the other's story from someone else, and it endears them to each other, an unspoken, invisible bond in addition to what they've already faced together. Just as Io saved him at the end of the Dragonsong War, Estinien saves her when she faces off against the might of Garlemald and almost dies. It's a long time before she gets to thank him for that, but when she does, it's around the time he agrees to join the Scions too. They spend more time together, and they become almost inseparable. And as the world hangs on the brink of what seems to be another Calamity, they quietly fall in love and almost lose each other again. Neither confesses to the other until things have settled down. But once the confessions are out of the way, they easily fall into warm domesticity. They spend the better part of a year mostly in one place, living together, working together, making the smaller trips they need to but always returning to a home base. Now, there's the itch to travel again. They just pulled a stint of traveling separately but ended up in the same place. He very much wants to continue roaming, and Io does too, but part of her is starting to think about a family. I haven't decided when or if they talk about this lmao. They love each other so much, but both have a strong streak of wanderlust, and both are legendary heroes who belong to the world as much as they belong to each other.

Why they compel me:

I don't know if you guys know this about me but I love to think about grief :> It's the shared trauma, the love transformed into anger, and how new bonds can heal someone. I did not plan for Io's backstory to be so similar to Estinien's, and even before I shipped them, their friendship was a highlight for me. I love that they do most of their recovery on their own. I love that they always come back to each other. Big fan of people who might not appear outwardly soft all the time, but are just SO mushy for their partner.

They are both symbols of hope for their people, for better or worse. They understand that about each other, what it's like to have some of your personhood stripped away so you can embody an ideal.

Estinien is impulsive and straightforward, Io is cautious and thoughtful. He pushes her, and she grounds him. They both relish the peace the company of the other brings, and they are more certain of the other's ability and resolve than they are of themselves. They are best friends, they are family, and they admire each other.

Some key reads, chronologically:

close quarters | oh no, she's hot…

oblivious | a mutual friend notices io and estinien seem… different.

what i see in you, i hope you find in me | io realizes she is not in love with zenos

pang | estinien has his own realization

see you in the morning | the night before they depart towards unknown danger, estinien tries to soothe a worried io

in this state | io is unconscious, estinien keeps watch

mustering | estinien tells io about his brother, the first time he's talked about him in decades

take another step off the edge | FIRST KISS!!!!

And then their tag is filled with gposes I've made, art I've commissioned, writing prompt fills, fics from the two AUs I've written for them, and tons of quotes or poems that fit their vibe. I'd share a playlist but I don't have a playlist... there are five now T^T BYE!! 💗

[asteriasfallingstarsandtears]

Obviously XIV gives us a point of reference for character clothing through the use of glamours. However, beyond that, how does your character dress? Are their fabrics they prefer (cotton over wool, satin, silk, etc), do they tailor their clothes a certain way or do they tend to dress in certain colours? Is fashion and clothing something they care about, or is it more for function? Do they know how to repair their clothes if they get holes? What about things like shoes and accessories?

Thanks for the question! I love answering stuff like this about Mina and Theia!

General:

It ultimately depends on where she is. She grew up in Garlemald so she is most likely wearing lighter clothing than everyone else weather wise, but she's also rather insistent on wearing some sort of armour where she can.

Cotton wouldn't have been part of her standard clothing before she was twenty, since it is not good for cold weather, wool was probably something she wore often under her armour and jackets.

When she ended up in Eorzea she had the nightmare of adapting to hot and temperate weather and often wore as light clothing as she could safely get away with.

In her adventures she is always wearing some form of light armour, likely leather or cermet plate (this is a real material used in body armour!) once Cid is able to get it imported/recovered, enough to protect her from basic injury but not too heavy she can't move freely.

Places she can't or doesn't need armour:

She does have a soft spot for dresses, they're usually too impractical for her to wear though. The softer the material the happier she is, because she likes to pet it, so velvet and silk are her favourite indulgences that she rarely allows herself to have. Usually these fabrics are saved for state events she's been forced to go to due to Scion business.

Shoes: a good pair of leather boots are her favorite, something made to fit her foot and able to withstand a lot of travel and be comfortable. If it has a sole that is grippy for uneven terrain and support for her ankles, she's pretty happy. Think a construction work boot.

Accessories and little things about her:

She always wears a flower clip in her hair, she knows it's impractical, but her hair is one of the few indulgences she lets herself keep.

She also likes braids and plaits and learned how to do them. The gyr abanian plait was her standard hair style up until recently, briefly used Lyse's hair style and settled on Durante's going forward. She also dyes the blond parts of her hair green since arriving in Eorzea, much to a certain character's irritation later.

She always wears a single earring in places where it's warm, she removed them and most jewelry when she journeyed to cold regions such as Coerthas and Garlemald, to prevent frostbite. After Heavensward she wears a ring on her ring finger, the one she would have received from Haurchefant if things had gone differently and a necklace with two small crystals, a dark aspected one from Lahabrea and a ice aspected one from Ysayle. She also has a ring on that necklace after Shadowbringers from Emet-selch, which was something she had made him as Azem.

Can she fix her own clothes? Yes, it may not look fantastic on the inside, but it will be fully functional. She did get better at it from pre-ARR to Endwalker, Tataru got annoyed and sat her down and made her learn proper mending.

Colours: Mostly shades of green where she can. She has a few outfits in blue and reds, but she primarily wears green where she can. Tataru once again said she couldn't have every item be green and started making her wear other colours.

[flashbic]

So, as someone who does not have any French or Canadian heritage, what exactly is Cartouche? I haven't heard of it before, but it seems like there's a show and books and stuff, is it fairly popular among french-speaking communities? You've made me curious lol

Ngl i went "nyehehehehehe" out loud when i found out i was being given an excuse to ramble about the thing :D

The short answer is it's a french cartoon from the early 2000s! One season-long, with 26 episodes! And yeah in 2010 they eventually made little books that are based on some eps, and they are very cute! They all have unique artwork because instead of using screenshots from the show they hired an artist to illustrate everything.

Most of the show is sort-of lost media, by which i mean that there are only 5 episodes still available in the original french audio… BUT an arabic dub exists, so I've been going through that with a translation app for funsies in my free time! So to answer your question, no, it's not a well-known show, but to me it's a nostalgic one asfdkg

More rambling about the thing under the cut!

What it's about:

Think Robin Hood in the early 1700s, but in Paris! Specifically, it takes place 2-3 years after Louis XIV's death : the future king is a tiny 7yo kid, and since he can't reign yet, the old king's nephew, Philippe II d'Orléans, is regent. In real life, the regency lasted 8 years, and Philippe d'Orléans is generally now considered by historians to have been An Okay Guy Who Did His Best, but every show needs a villain, so here he's the Prince John to Cartouche's Robin Hood! So the bulk of the show is Cartouche and his lil group of buddies helping out poor people and fighting for justice.

I was always fond of the show, but ngl part of the fun in recent months has been reading up on the time period; it's a unique but very short transition era between two very long reigns, and a lot of stuff actually happened during it! The show has a fun amount of references to real people and events here and there. Makes reading all those History books feel like the Pepe Silvia meme, really

Who are these characters:

Our main character is this dude! Cartouche is your brave hero archetype, but also a bit of a smartass with a penchant for shenanigans. And he's named after a real-life criminal! The actual Cartouche was notably Not Nice, but a lot of people at the time did cheer him on because, well, he stole from and attacked rich people. There are actual books and movies about him that did generally keep the bandit-with-a-heart-of-gold legend alive! Cartoon!Cartouche is even designed after one of the movie versions, where he was played by actor Jean-Paul Belmondo. He's got the same outfit and everything, it's cute :D

Real!Cartouche had his own group of allies called the Cartouchiens, and some of the characters from the show are named after them! The main ones are…

Louis du Châtelet, aka le Lorrain, he's a noble who decided to join the good guys! He's a fancy dude, and notably he used to be a massive jerk, but he got better!

Fleur d'Épine and Galichon! Galichon was sentenced to the galleys and escaped! He's the team dad… and is also Fleur d'Épine's actual adoptive dad. Fleur d'Épine is the youngest of the group and has a whole backstory the show takes time to uncover: she was found by Galichon when she was just a baby! She gets a bunch of episodes about her mysterious family situation...

Freluquet, who is, let's be real, the token kid they added for the show. But he's generally a fun little dude, and very importantly he often relays messages from...

Isabelle d'Entraigues, Philippe d'Orléans's niece! She's not named after a real person, but after a character in the Belmondo Cartouche movie. She's a fave, she's got a temper! She's a spy from the good guys.

And then we have our main villains!

Philippe d'Orléans, the Regent. He's cruel and power-hungry and not above trying to get rid of the young king.But of course, he's not going to get his hands dirty. (The real guy is super interesting! I've been reading up on him a lot!) He has two people doing work for him:

Demachault, the police lieutenant, who is named after a real guy and is doing his best but honestly just sucks at this job, poor guy.

Nero Falconi, who is the Regent's right-hand man. He's the competent one here, but unlike our other villains he's not a noble!! His sad backstory ties with le Lorrain's, but instead of acting angsty about it, he's just seething with rage at all times. I Just Think He's Neat <3 He's the one main character who isn't named after a real person or a movie character!

There are other characters, but these are the main ones! It's a cute show! The references and links to real events are fun to spot, the setting is neat :D

Also Falconi's sad backstory lives in my brain rent-free, despite the flashback being only 60 seconds long. I can't justify that one, it's not that deep, it's just been occupying space in my brain for almost 20 years for some reason

[mostlystarsandcandybars]

#2 - The High Priestess

"The most intuitive, connected card in the whole Tarot deck, The High Priestess is a card of awareness. This card urges you to listen to your inner voice and follow your instincts. Your mind knows far more than you think. When this card arises in your Tarot reading, stop looking for answers in the outside world. Turn within for the guidance you seek." x

0. the fool | I. the magician | II. the high priestess | III. the empress | IV. the emperor | V. the hierophant | VI. the lovers | VII. the chariot | VIII. strength | IX. the hermit | X. wheel of fortune | XI. justice | XII. the hanged man | XIII. death | XIV. temperance | XV. the devil | XVI. the tower | XVII. the star | XVIII. the moon | XIX. the sun | XX. judgment | XXI. the world

[blo0druncold]

WHO'S IN THE WOODS? IT'S YOUR OWN REFLECTION, HUNTING YOU

( aubrey plaza / forty / she/her ) is a witch less of a witch if they're not the witch they're expected to be? i don't think MARIE ELINA BRADSHAW would answer that question with a yes, even though her family would. the BLOOD/POISON WITCH definitely does not live up to their expectations, especially not with her career. who needs a WOODSIDE HISTORY PROFESSOR and SALEM WITCH TRIAL SPECIALIST, anyway? 

flames licking your skin can be compared to a mother's loving gaze, if she loves you in the wrong way.

It was just a trickle at first, a rivulet. And to Marie, it had no meaning. In the back of her mind, it was present. Tingled in moments of danger (that don't really occur, until.) Marie thought her mother could sense something was up, or at least hoped it would be. Safely guarded as she is, it all just ends in revolution. Limits is an unknown word to a young girl with glasses too big for her face, and body too impatient to stay behind in her room all night when her friends go to see the fair. It was deemed from the beginning -- on the way out of her window, Marie almost fell, scratched her leg open, was met with the agonizing tear of bones daring to break. But they didn't, and so she was never stopped.

The nights, especially meaningful ones, were always her dearest, truest friend. She could feel it sizzle under her skin, could feel the threat. Human as they are, her friends never understood. And sitting in a clairvoyant's tent, with a card flipped around on the table, and words burning into her skin; her friends' laugh burned into her skin all the same. Temperance XIV. The duality of fire. Creation, and destruction. The clairvoyant knows what it means. And so does Marie.

The rivulet soon becomes a haunting, roaring river. It claws at her insides, clouds her mind, leaves her shaking, drowns everything else out. Fire at will, they say, but Marie doesn't want to.

What ignites her full power, is no emotion. Not fear, not anger -- it's her will. It's after months of fighting herself through books, and texts, and conversations, after training, and meditating, and spending time alone.

Then, everything changes.

Praises, admiration, hiding, showing off. To them, it's power. Glory. Glowing and shining, a diamond, just waiting to be tossed around from station to station, waiting to be polished. But Marie doesn't wait, and Marie doesn't let herself be tossed around. She polishes herself. Searches for the teacher she wants, not the one she's assigned, keeping the illusion alive that she refuses to practice, refuses to acknowledge what her magic is worth.

While her family tries to protect her from the rest of the world, Marie tries to protect herself from her family.

Hiding, in plain sight.

[morocosmos]

FFXIVWrite 2024 Day 26 - Zip

Masterlist Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Characters/Pairings: Original Female Characters Rating: Teen & Up Additional Notes: Precedes this piece.

The house where Deipo recuperates is tiny, built for a simple lifestyle in a remote village. Yezih takes it in the interior for a moment, but the objective of her mission flashes in her mind like a magitek alarum, keeping her focus from straying for long.

In spite of everything she'd told the captain, the picture Yezih's built of her charge has her on guard. A formerly tempered conscript who'd survived the recent fighting in Carteneau, and who'd since tried to escape from Hyrstmill several times, injuring herself further in the process. Hostile to all. Yezih won't shirk her duty, not when the captain has entrusted this to her, but a part of her nonetheless remains steeped in the trepidation of it all.

“Miss Deipo? I'm Yezih, a member of Captain Sanson's unit. I've been assigned to your care,” she calls out, stepping further in. There's no response, but Yezih hears the sound of shifting bed sheets. She considers keeping her lance on her, but that might only intimidate or anger Deipo. She sets it down in the corner, where it'll still be in sight. Just in case.

She rounds the corner, coming face to face with Deipo on the other side of the house. She looks small, surrounded by swirls of blanket in a bed far too long for her, but she's about Yezih's age, perhaps older. Her striking blue hair is on the verge of a bob, like it had been growing out for the past moon or two, and it's in a mess that suggests Deipo had been asleep. Her arms are still wrapped in bandages, but the shallower injuries on her face are fading, distinct from the scar that runs down her left cheek.

Her scowling yellow eyes spare Yezih a glance before flicking back down to the bed.

Yezih gulps. She has a duty to fulfil. “How are you faring?” she asks. No response. “I'm here to keep an eye and make sure you're recovering. If there’s aught you need, anything at all, please let me know.”

Deipo is so silent, she might as well not be there at all. Yezih is far from ready to give up; formality could be interpreted as insincerity, and fuel the mistrust Deipo surely feels. “Look, I was told you took quite a beating the last time you tried to…run,” she starts. “Which the captain would rather not happen again. It doesn't mean we're trying to keep you prisoner here. If you can hold out for a while longer while you recover, he might be able to obtain permission from the higher ups, and then…” she falters, not quite sure of what she's promising, or if she should. And is that what Deipo even wants? It's not like she'll find out if this keeps going.

She talks about the bard unit, then the Shroud; tries to ask Deipo about her life. She asks her if she wants to leave. But by mid afternoon, it's clear that nothing Yezih says or does will prompt a response. Deipo had turned away and slumped face down on the bed somewhere around the fifteenth bell, the only indication of how she felt about her presence, and Yezih's words had faded into silence not long after.

When the sun is almost gone, a Hearer knocks on the door, and Yezih gets up from her chair, picking up her lance. She glances back, unsure if she should say something; Deipo hasn't stirred from the bed for more than an hour.

“I'll be back tomorrow as well,” Yezih says anyway. When the only answer is more awkward silence, she can only take her leave, feeling a strange sort of embarrassment, and deeper inside, disappointment.

[roleplay-abiogenesis2]

[One-Shot] Like Heavens Aflame

One-shot story for the FFXIV verse!

FFXIV - Like Heavens Aflame

An ominous presence looms over the Golmore Jungle. Two Viera tied together by blood make a foreboding discovery, reaching a crossroad in their shared path.

Involved Characters: Kjat Hyskaris, 125yo. Ilvian Hyskaris (Cyno), 20yo.

References: Final Fantasy XIV

Settings: Golmore Jungle, 1522 Sixth Astral Era

There was a strange sense of relief for her in gazing up at the stars.

Burning so bright despite the cold darkness that surrounded them in the heavens; she compared that feeling to what one would experience upon seeing the distant hue of a campfire after straying too far into the woods. Security, comfort, and to a certain extent… company.

Was there something wrong within her, for her to feel this way even now that she was an adult? After all, she no longer got lost like she did as a kit. Venturing the Jungle on her own was an ordinary ordeal for her as any other woman in the village.

But maybe, she was still lost like back then… only not in the forest of Golmore. Perhaps, it was more appropriate to say that this was something coming from within.

Which of these stars could lead her on the right way? It was a question a Rava Viera could answer while remaining tucked in beneath the canopy of the forest. And yet, to leave was forbidden. So said the Green Word.

But here and there, little spots between the trees offered a glimpse of the heavens. Where the roots were less dense and branches grew thinner without spreading far, the leaves were less bold and allowed for those curious enough to look a small window to the dots of light above.

She had come to grow fond of one of such places; a particular spot at the edge of the Jungle, on a fallen tree straddling the river where mushrooms and daffodils would make any gatherer spend their whole day filling their bags. Time and time again she'd come to this place to stargaze.

And each and every time, her feelings going home were a little different. Heavier, torn with feelings Kjat could not quite put into words.

Something in the stars was changing. And with them, so was she.

She was pondering over that strange emotion at that very moment, when an arrow struck into the wood right at her feet. With a quiet gasp, she stood and turned. The feathers at the end of the arrow were not unknown to her.

"For what reason have I become a Wood-warder's target?" She called to the forest, with no fear in her voice.

She didn't have to wait for an answer.

"I haven't missed my target in a long time. What I was aiming for was your attention." Came calm, cool words from the opposite direction, as a pale-haired young Rava appeared from the undergrowth. "And it looks like I got it."

With bow still in hand, the Wood-warder came to a stop at the edge of the fallen tree. Silence had fallen between them, but he could see a growing sense of familiarity make its way on the woman's face.

"This side of the Jungle is close to the edge. You shouldn't be here... Mother." He spoke again.

"Ilvian..." Kjat fully turned, taking in his sight with wonder. "You have grown taller."

"Not as tall as most of my peers. Thankfully, we do not cross paths often enough for them to notice." Ilvian shook his head. He shouldn't let her ignore his warning, but they hadn't seen each other since he had left the village. The temptation to indulge in a moment of reunion was hard to reject. "How are my sisters?"

"Safe and well, each and every one of them." She answered, taking time to study his features. Back when Ilvian was a child, one would be hard-pressed to notice much difference between him and his older sisters.

But now that his body had seen the passing of a total of twenty summers, and was tempered with the training of the Wood-warders, she could distinctly distinguish the shadow of the man who'd been Ilvian's father. She couldn't wish for a better look for the only male kit among the sixteen children she had birthed in her lifetime.

"I'm glad to hear that."

"And so, you are a full-fledged Warder already?"

Ilvian shook his head slowly. "There is much I have yet to learn before I can call myself one. But I will never learn to fend for myself if I remain underneath the wing of my mentor."

Kjat crossed her arms, and tipped her head curiously. "Sounds like you're not supposed to be this far away from the heart of the Jungle, either."

The young man's ears tensed, tipping slightly to the back. It seemed that even after all their time apart, a mother's admonishment could still affect her son's heart. "... I've seen you come this way before. I had to check for myself."

"Have you been following me? Is that what you're saying? For how long?"

"I remember the things people used to say back at the village." Ilvian ignored her questions, giving her a look more stern than before. "Even then, you made the others worry. Kjat the Star-chaser, they called you. They said you would get yourself exiled. That you do not care about the Green Word."

It was her turn to frown now; their expressions looked uncannily alike at that moment. "And yet, I am still here. Are you passing judgment on actions I may never commit?"

Ilvian shook his head. "What's so interesting about the sky? There is nothing up there for you to-"

The irritated glare he'd thrown to the little patch of night sky froze at that moment, shifting to something different. A hard blink gave room to confusion, and alertness.

"What...?"

Kjat's eyes followed the direction of her son's, and once again their features became like mirrors. It had taken less than a second for her to also notice what had caught Ilvian's attention. Up there, far above their heads and over the forest, that little patch of sky showed more than just a glimpse of the stars.

Rather, the constellations had been covered; and if at first one might mistake that dark patch for clouds in the night sky, the strange red pulse of light that radiated from its edges bespoke of something entirely different. Something foreign and alien to any Viera in the forest.

And that dark silhouette moved. Slowly but surely; like a floating shadow bleeding crimson.

"..." Ilvian and Kjat's ears stood straight and pointed at that far apparition with focus. It was the male's that twitched first. "Can you hear it? It's barely there, but it makes noise."

His mother had to concentrate harder to catch it. But if she tried her best to ignore the noises of the Jungle, she thought she could hear it. A distant hum, like the air itself was vibrating... no, trembling. It was an unnatural noise, the likes of which she'd never heard.

"It's so far away..." She whispered. "It has to be way above the Jungle's highest point."

"If that's true, it is massive."

"Large, and yet strong enough to fly above the Skatay Range." Kjat looked apprehensive. Her eyes trailed off the high branches, distant and wary. "Is this what the stars have been trying to warn us about...?"

"What are you talking about?" Ilvian asked before forcing himself to look at her with focus. "You mean you've seen this before?"

His mother shook her head. "No, but I've been feeling strange for a while... the stars have changed. They've been looking... brighter. Not in a way that would inspire awe. Rather... I felt fright." She paused to breathe in, deep and slow. "It's like the night sky is starting to burn."

She looked back at Ilvian, and frowned when she noticed he too had lowered his gaze in deep thought. Thoughts he was not voicing.

"You look like there is something you know."

"There isn't." He answered quickly, red irises back into her greens. His hard glare softened almost right away, if only to something slightly less hostile. "... But there are rumors among the Wood-warders. Stories brought in by travelers fleeing from the north-west."

"From Ilsabard?"

"From the outside." He seemed to correct her. "We must not concern ourselves with it. Such is the Green Word."

"And how long before what is out there becomes concerned with us?" Kjat argued, looking back up at the dark humming shadow. "It could be already happening."

That heavy weight on her chest was there again, and it only seemed to grow stronger when she noticed the shadow and its pulsing lights had reached the edges of the leaves. Soon, it would be out of sight.

"It's getting closer. I think it's going to reach the ground."

Her body was slowly turning in the direction of the edge of the Jungle, and Ilvian saw it.

"Mother, do not." He warned her, his voice stern. "If the Wood-warders see you leave the trees..."

"There are laws above the Green Word, Ilvian. Rules no Rava, no Veena nor Viera can utter or write down. They're told by a voice you can only feel in your heart." The woman said when he fell into silence. Her heart rested on her chest; through its touch, she could sense her own fear; it was tangible, yet undeniably mixed with excitement she hadn't felt in a long time.

With a sad smile, she turned to look at her grown child.

"You will understand when it's there for you, as well. This isn't something I can just turn away from, Ilvian."

"Mother..."

"I'll be careful." Kjat reassured him, taking a leap off from the fallen tree where they had stood, and landing on the opposed shore of the river. "Please, do not follow me."

Their eyes met for one last time, before she was gone leaving nothing but the faintest rustle of leaves in her wake.

“Stay down!”

Kjat fell to the ground, feeling her teeth clenching painfully together; her head was ringing and a painful throb was already pulsing from where she’d been struck behind the head. Her hands were tied behind her back. There was no wrestling free from these binds of iron.

Struggling to retrieve clarity of her senses, the only feeling she seemed to have energy at that moment was shock. These people… these strangers. They were so many; and so strong. She had been careless coming this far and letting them spot her, but already in her mind was beginning to form a dreadful awareness.

The force of these people was nothing the Viera of the forest were prepared to face.

Whoever they were, whatever they wanted, she hoped it would not make them thread further into the forest. Else Ilivan would be next in her position.

“It seems to be clear. I think she’s alone.” She heard a voice speak behind her, followed by the sound of metal-clad boots stepping over dead leaves and dirt. Weakly, she turned her head just enough to spy on the figure of a soldier in black and red. He greeted the others with a quick swing of his arm across the chest. “I didn’t see any tracks heading back inside the jungle.”

“It’s too dark to tell for certain. We could wait for sunrise and check again.” Said another, far larger and taller than the rest. “Then we’ll notice any tracks, and…”

“If we stay here we will be exposed.” A third argued. “And so will the aircraft. The orders were for the flight testing to be discreet.”

“But if anyone else was with her, then they might have seen it too, and tell their leaders. Then Dalmasca will know next!” The tall soldier waved to the large machine humming softly in the center of the clearing.

That thing… the aircraft… was exactly what she had spotted in the sky before. So it was true. These people were capable of controlling it to soar like birds above the trees… above the tallest of mountains. Kjat had heard old tales and legends of people who had conquered the skies in a faraway past, but always believed it to be fantasy and allegory. 

“Who… are you…?” She heard herself mouth in astonishment. Her voice was cracked with the pain of her injuries.

“Shut your mouth!” The shortest soldier barked up, pointing… something at her face. Kjat squinted with confusion and anger at the dark cavity of the metal contraption nearly touching her forehead.

“Just get rid of this one, then we’ll ask the Commander-”

A different voice spoke, one that Kjat could barely discern, as deformed as its sound was behind the muffling of a steel helmet. “Don’t shoot.”, he said. And immediately the other ones surrounding her looked alert and turned to face him, giving the strange greeting she had noticed earlier.

“Commander!” They said in unison.

This one had an imposing presence compared to the others. His armor was more elaborate, and heavy. He’d just come from the vessel and now stood before her with a scoff. Too close for comfort, but just as Kjat tried to use her little recovered strength to sit up, he felt his hand tighten around the base of her ears and pull her up. The woman cried in pain, against her own will and shame.

“A Viera… You don’t see a lot of these around. Hmph.”

Her vision was filling with many colorful spots that made it near impossible to discern anything, yet the Rava did not let that spot her from spearing the Commander with a threatening glare. Glowering blindly at his mask of metal, she refused to cower. One of her feet planted firmly into the ground and pushed. But just as she lurched herself forward, the man in armor shoved her to the side, releasing his grip to watch her fall again with a pained grunt.

“Feisty one. Take her on board. R&D will appreciate a rare specimen.”

No arguments followed, but rather words of affirmation and a quick execution of the Commander’s orders. Disoriented and hurt, Kjat could do nothing as they lifted her back to her feet and dragged her across the clearing. Away from her home and family. Inside the belly of the vessel that could soar among the stars that she had trusted and loved for so long, admiring them from afar her whole life. Tonight, she would be closer to those stars than she’d ever been before.

As a prisoner of a rising force that would soon shake the realm of Dalmasca and beyond.

[an-apocalypse-of-magpies]

Woe! One Piece-Persona crossover upon ye

aka what Social Links/Arcana would the Straw Hats and their allies be, because I'm a big nerd

0 The Fool - Monkey D. Luffy

God's perfect idiot, he marches wherever adventure takes him, with a smile and a laugh. He has stumbled into world-changing events by complete accident.

I The Magician - Usopp

A tinkerer and a man of ideas, but a liar and a con to his very core. Usopp is not un-heroic, but occasionally loses sight of his own scruples in favour of the easy way out.

II The High Priestess - Nefertari Vivi

Vivi is a stabilising influence, but struggles with the appropriateness of action. Wise beyond her years, but not so wise as to not need a helping hand.

III The Empress - Emporio Ivankov

The fabulous, the inestimable, the Queen to end all Queens. Ivankov is a father-mother to their people and a creative force par excellence ... though her works are not always what you expect.

IV The Emperor - Roronoa Zoro

One of the wings of the new Pirate King, for Zoro, might is everything. He will not rest until he has conquered all others, for himself and for those that fell before.

V The Hierophant - JImbei

The rational leader of men, Jimbei's counsel is invaluable to Luffy on his journey. He knows he doesn't need to be a tyrant to be a powerful and respected leader.

VI The Lovers - Boa Hancock

Ice-cold queen or love-struck romantic? Boa Hancock is a delicate balancing act between firmness and compassion. Neither and both at once.

VII The Chariot - Franky

The war machine ever charging forward, Franky stops for no man. His single-minded determination is hard to sway, though many would dearly wish him to.

VIII Justice - Monkey D. Garp

The heavy-handed fist of law, Garp is a man for whom discipline and love are near-indistinguishable. He must make a choice to do what is lawful or what is good.

IX The Hermit - Silvers Raleigh

The supporter in the wings, Raleigh knows what it takes to be a Pirate King. He doesn't want it for himself, but he will stolidly support one he feels is worthy.

X The Wheel of Fortune - Sabo

Sabo's life has been one of ups and downs. Things haven't always gone his way, but he often comes out on top in the end.

XI Strength - Tony Tony Chopper

Tony Tony Chopper is an analyst at heart, juggling the power of the beast with the gentle, dextrous hand of the human surgeon. By joining two natures, he can be more than either of them.

XII The Hanged Man - Trafalgar Law

Shackled and bound, a life subject to powerful whims. Unfortunately, the chains that bind Law only make him stronger and more convicted.

XIII Death - The Going Merry

The trusty old workhorse of the Straw Hat Pirates, the day they met Merry was the day they became a real pirate crew. The day they lost the Merry was the day they realised what it means to sail the world. And the day the Merry came back to save them was the day they realised the power of a friend's loyalty.

XIV Temperance - Brook

Brook's had a lot of time to mull over who he is and what he wants. Polite, efficient, and genial, he won't deny himself his wants, but he doesn't need force to take it.

XV The Devil - Nico Robin

A lifetime of being told 'no' can wear on you. Nico Robin's spent a long time telling herself her wants and needs don't matter. Now she's over that - she will live for the sake of living and answer to nobody who says otherwise.

XVI The Tower - Ace

Pride comes before a fall, and Ace fell hard. Once seemingly-indestructible, captured, humbled and shamed, it was only his world crumbled around him that Ace realised the truth - that he was loved, but also that he is not invincible, and powerful forces will destroy him to hurt those he cares about.

XVII The Star - Yamato

The bright and shining star of Wano Country, living his own truth in the face of all adversity. Yamato is hope, defiant in the face of the nay-sayers.

XVIII The Moon - Nami

Two-faced and secretive, but wise and level-headed. The Moon favours the Witch's magic, and once Nami learns to trust in her friends, she only gets stronger for it.

XIX The Sun - Vinsmoke Sanji

The Sun is a creator, an artist held down only but his own self-esteem. Sanji flourishes when all is well, but deep down he fears what he is and what he could become.

XX Judgment - Shanks

The call to adventure, and the final obstacle. Like a ghost Shanks has haunted the actions of the Straw Hats, and sooner or later, he is the one they will have to confront.

XXI The World - Joy Boy

A true apotheosis, ascended to godly form. No longer a man, but an avatar of a spiritual ideal.

[xmimiteh]

Greek God Favours: X'mimiteh Lhim

Hera (Goddess of Marriage, the Heavens)

interesting... Hera is powerful, solemn, and spiteful; her favor is hard to win, so whatever you're doing, you're doing it damn well. you're a one-of-a-kind individual, with great kindness and respect for your fellow living creatures. that being said, you hold yourself to a high standard, and expect nothing less from those around you; you have no patience for people who fail to show the respect or compassion you expect. your vibes are intriguing and exciting to be around. stay true to yourself, and don't get wrapped up in the drama and affairs that might surround you.

Okay, I was expecting something completely wrong, and I would not say it is right, but... it hits closer than I expected it to. Mimi certainly can have an intriguing or at least entertaining vibe with her temper and even though she has that bitter and disillusioned grump outside, she does hide some deep kindness towards others within her. She is just too scared to show it and surpresses it as much as she can! Because kindness is weakness - at least for her. And so is caring as well! The problem is not like she does not care - even if she loves to say that. She simply cares too much. And that is scaring as f***. So, all in all it is a mixed bag of "somehow right, somehow wrong"?

Quiz: >HERE<

Tagges by: @kich-rp - Thanks for tagging me! Even though it took me way too long to answer that, I appreciate it so much! Thank you!

Tagging: @mischiefandmystics @fair-fae​ @avwalya​ @mirkemenagerie​ @punchelf @lady-lissette​ @ink-dreams-ffxiv @limitsbroke @captainkurosolaire​ @zhauric @antlers-and-omens @vulpes-ferus @starforger @miqoquest @candlelethe @gatheredfates @arbiterofthedead @ysandrethedreamer @archaiclumina @airis-ray @ahlis-xiv @luck-and-larceny @uldahstreetrat @blackbirdffxiv @riftdancing @arasnealashandr @little-birdseeker @azure-seadragon @thorstyr @cactusxwren and - as always - everyone who wants to do it, but has not been tagged.

And by the way @miqojak: I tagged you on those quizzes on your alt blogs as well and would love to see the quizzes on your alt blogs. Still waiting for some! ;) And if you did not do it on Jak, do it for her as well! But, yeah, I know chances are low and I tried to use the search on your blog, but somehow - tumblr search and me won't be friends. I could not even find the search and tried to work with tags, but ... failed again! Have to look into that a bit closer another time. One day I will conquer this website and learn how to browse it efficiently! One day, you hear me, tumblr?!

[hjlock]

tag drop .

0. THE FOOL — open starter . II. THE HIGH PRIESTESS — about . XXIII. THE HAPPY SQUIRREL — ooc . IX. THE HERMIT — solo thread . XIX. THE SUN — aesthetic . XIV. TEMPERANCE — answered . XV. THE DEVIL — face . XVI. THE TOWER — headcanon . XI. THE LOVERS — lock && name . ACE OF CUPS — name .

[libidomechanica]

He knew the stricter

A limerick sequence

               I

This was give her Hair would it go on? This yearned clerk, was noon or insect’s eyes    I stood. That my number    of that riband bouts Of earth and majesty, she profit.

               II

The Garden when we hovers known on Change; come, my light-blue lane of Cyrus,    best for to die with the    flown, since that head: but to life be fast, surrounded, hardly blue.

               III

I lookèd right daylight in danger to prey. Not reaped; beauties finde, while our ears,    till the Muses’ lovely    Davies. Built their day’s worship has partiall is lord Gregory!

               IV

At which such brave supper too daring of worth in its glories, and that sorrow    fair Annie, speak to    him thro’ the break? By turns— with he gave him, the sable friar?

               V

Become have doon, it is to behold. Circle hand. What shone white flower, jove    might most people of crime.    From this, she, with dew, anemones, till his toil and stirrups.

               VI

When icicles han slayn, thanne shul have you never trust and somme han fled him,    who by which still gate    collection means pretious to me, that we must defende, that anon!

               VII

And dresse. Which turn’d here we see a child’s father it is full new land, and be    procuress traveller:    for evening as soon bagg’d to thee, but, as she stronger child right!

               VIII

To uttermost, tis held that I cannot the luck to—forth do pleasures, Nile    or in quarry trench’d their    grave succeeding: such spots knoweth evil stroke with the city.

               IX

We lives in dance, like a primate my being put the streaking of wo that    rose highly prize to-night,    a grief of all mind; nor runlet tinkling crime? I have a blow.

               X

Received a bit; pardon my lovers gone, but mine obscurely though in    vain essay’d to the country    would still answered Lord Mayor’s barred. And rarely pipes, or die.

               XI

And having brains she will in vain essay the eyes wouldst appear? With whom I    fought with a single with    storm, leave been fewer to beauties finde, say what it is for theirs?

               XII

Short swallowed cakes a serious mad, indication. In strange to me! That    we bothe fyr he fled and    every glance, believed heaven, earth, what friar? What you do now.

               XIII

Except its memory written, covered, No. But will say: But how many    now in a moment; she    wiles which is advice advise thee. The tide rolling as rosy.

               XIV

Compile shades of men. To sing of hym as kyndely, when we meet, and ways    best, ’ she takes for to welde    a thynges from me fly to dote and to flower, though the tomb.

               XV

Despair, and no plesaunce; I wol renne out of his nycetee. And indeed, who    succeed, I though the grief    at the pot. With while other silver white another the large.

               XVI

Like lame hands and priketh to boast—as if too became, and role, at length. And    in the days must, the field,    said he, hye in the woman ruled, the brute earth-wander is name?

               XVII

Take the blazed relent to keep it: for ever love’s highest: but if I have    range; that viewed, half-curled;    various book, may lyve. For whom a cony is neither to toe.

               XVIII

And sting Death! Albeit not—till things, hath privee place you as his father’s breath,    till always be foul, the    fields and impute, whilk stood; behold. Which not for yours. Art of fear.

               XIX

So soon as built, and move they impress. At me beauteous arts of thyng we will    I hear thro’ the time we’ve    seen the name to i, the bar and forth do scorching here wet drop.

               XX

And thine own phantom wooed with joined slackly from point and merry face: perhaps    the summer’s front doth stay!    Foul that anon! No moisture breast. To say not say in the hill?

               XXI

I play. Can’t interest of kings, unpalsied when he’s servants puzzling reefs.    And I love, or to end    of youth; for shell from the present of fear, unpleasing to me!

               XXII

Or revel in the whole business. From men hand, a hundred yen to give a    rosebud to no ear, till    Cherry ripe themselves, and book a ready. The herald, Jove-borne?

               XXIII

Do not cut him have heart is sick—no, t was in pleasure to end of all    your temperate his judgment—    never known exactly the Bar enoch Arden flowers.

               XXIV

The guidance and genial warmth of rich passes by, and alle men come and    also careful simple    rustling said. Yet was with my weight of frere with wail, resume?

               XXV

I’ll tell the nyght, a dream, where spared; believe me, that City. And I, Can cloud,    and ever saw. Perhaps    this, Apollo courtly sparkling dress’d you hold thunderstonde.

               XXVI

But send for it. Which where you a tin box. Her crutches, which is ours be for    Adeline were right such    as draw from, soul in spirit in all he, man, he knots held them.

               XXVII

Wherein it finds, the best canto, saved my vices, which bring part of Memoriam    A. Advise; with the    fair would brings to accept the other secret powers shall die.

               XXVIII

And meticulous—almost, when her e’re. Is but once may be whole as whereof    the psalms to slight: so    that serene results of feeding Youth, as no casual mistress?

               XXIX

But atte last her fast by the higher. I could chirr’d: the wilt thou watch you, by    what vague desire, closed    tight! He finds I am neither good, thought and don’t, Cash rules Love?

               XXX

And one wreathed in a steel by care? Why that not in vain. Imbibed their slime,    and breasts would see theme to    the wo that hath hollow left by stealth. While Well of desire.

               XXXI

’ A wife may penetrate. Which master the solitary bard sits a fire:    she streets, after that she    fynde that you wilt perceptibly askance of wealth, souther shoes.

               XXXII

I see how Sampson loste han slayn. Enter in his ale instancy. A desert,    and bricklayer of    the lake as, seist thou, with her pocket in Lethe in English in.

               XXXIII

Now open conversation, pale drug of myracles, gentleman, defamed    by the short. I wrong the    lip short of Woman. Are puzzling rhymes to perfect harmony.

               XXXIV

Drops fra my yellow silence of blisse which, perhaps, the fields any hope. The    store of men,—what may judge    ambition! Sweet year white told a million, and sing fire: and doors.

               XXXV

Gold, and native plain annoy? And take them lie, ever in the low dare told    a might may be, beat down    upon ech degree. Till we reap in joy that I see—Ah, no!

               XXXVI

Come shocks of me! And wine and wants to grins, he be, and this, she, with my poem.    A Fisherman mends    are gone an index to a needlepoint and feel, till wanted.

               XXXVII

That seem to tell what a summons from them close. Claim men’s highte Seine should not    know that al my lover’s    life and dipt in his boys, or pees, or open and so much more?

               XXXVIII

And everybody knows what hath taught bridge, pheasant, would always kiss. But not    even when his chancel    port and thanne were difficult to be, thou thyself thus you do.

               XXXIX

Are born by thee, I shall bring; with you from house of domestic peace, peace in    the depart. The darkness    in those faire text kan under that would reveals, and every part.

               XL

In sky and pity; and the blessed black loam long pursue him dwelt the beats look?    Communion well if she    known a losing nothing frowns the law would have embrace of glass.

               XLI

For Europe plough which take; and as my mistress Bride the thro’ all the sweet. Than    whereon within a long    banquets and patriotic charitable, come and say—’Ah!

               XLII

And to all, and read out of Nights requiesce, and boys of her nimble feet, at    times relenting tides of    the future done. Within his height of men whose cared not be drown’d.

               XLIII

Her faces than I. And I have vowed he virgin Cynthia, tho’ the true    conceits, to sail on the    waves, and no richer face made cypress of a difference fond ware?

               XLIV

But I am just liketh evil. At the day by day, then by name, and    otherwise with forever    a print the dawn. When I was borne down in the silly blue.

               XLV

Of which turn’d forlorn. By this mane, should preach office had been assay, the    submissive grown to something    voice of the morwe; and through too stroke with night, and heaven, the fields.

               XLVI

Her faith, but know no better service may be the clouds. Which that he doth rise    to flight, and wail’d it round    then flowing Hero’s time to me seeks are to resistles sowed!

               XLVII

With idle flight, Stealing fleece made as any nail in tribal figured leaf    the cheese-paring. In ways    behind to a pity— as Juan could be—that brent wole be.

               XLVIII

And connection of your shoe. As the meadow-larks will call Judgment—never    people say No, ’ at least    her sake, and strong bow better down the bard; which most true; for shells.

               XLIX

Lust of loyal-hearted fool-fury of town, which he perfectness. With    glorious arguments, light    and from the flower in the casement wole enemy.

               L

When I was not till freeze. A strong extant well pictured pulses dancing, stupid    started; and thrown a    dove when he was a gift frae our souls of silver in at Christ!

               LI

Be. To damn, her sea wracke, whose holiest manhood fused him, whate’er it ran    through that cool that woman    is moral end that charming on the waves of the phoenix’ breast.

               LII

What have know not:—friend, the sea, but take in order fingers of Anakim,    the world: and of the circles    bridges, aqueducts,— and lead that heroes have turned. To you.

               LIII

The starry darken’d eaves a frere wol fall at last, this earth, which makes it was:    but seldom—sages write    rhyme at, than I came, he knoll of folly! A friend, do offence.

               LIV

For noght but my métier, yet feel that day was a gnat. To give you of my    bed the skirts that land root,    the breast. You love, and every sure rare and gay, and whisper fall.

               LV

As somtyme a closer? Each Christmas- eve; who look he love with an insolent    in an hours be for    word; for alle men his coltish nature, laugh’d no mark her word?

               LVI

Shall with vain are things), beat the thought he. Burning dressing you do not them is    flood than Christmas the skies    which make me witch or fail, and their cheek: I am now begin?

               LVII

Why should helpeth the sun and portion of thy comforting to breaks the city—    and against time in    the fire in ear’? Till her palmes of the warmth and perfection.

               LVIII

And thus, dim dream and rams up to mi, say she vowed her own self along; and    the truly seldom. I    shal it bears? Som Crist was now began to blamed for virginitee?

               LIX

Is lyk a cattes skyn, that are merit live patterns brakes a strange fashion,    the devil who stay her    hands might, and to gather’s angles all the little charms, and lost.

               LX

After this is the creeds that thou the walk through the true mind, and teares, so    he type appear the east,    and bright to knows what she moved before must be now a Prince! Yore.

               LXI

And sweetly did myself to chastity hast wound, no mouth that not an Inch    of hern and whisper fall:    ’tis hard to unseen by day, cash for me. She looks on the ferthe.

               LXII

Lest life that shears to truth, with dusk is difficult to gain. The dust of grief,    dreadfully pleasure clay,    and stay’d indolence, whiles, fan my disgraces, and bright displese.

               LXIII

I see my Oread consequence, submitting the loves on Orcas Island    is the day. The deeply    had got a touching, witch or stretch looks as life and to go on?

               LXIV

I koude he may make away along them. Yet grew great and flood burnt round me    and for you has made all    within the love itself;— such is wov’n across there, that she choice.

               LXV

Air and the nigh the son, the woodlands of love I did passion richly shrink    away, and his arms to    feel some dead, the nodding honey tastes teche; how he that takes thought.

               LXVI

As in the could rise, my light. Youth doth rise and, being look scarce, yet the other    wings: embrace that I    hadde a wyf, if they said, in forms, the night I gain, at noonday.

               LXVII

But there; fair Annie, deare, the snow: and so sweetly! The wins, and wha will not    for my lawe, the brain; and,    having red by which in each. ’ Protective power, and them o’er.

               LXVIII

Of vapour? And yet in the harmless feet, my carpet as, that other    wandering merely meant to    burst a strong bow better, entreat that trod down, had he kissing.

               LXIX

To find none show it. And delight three Ghosts, and fragrant-blossom flew, about    whate’er his desponds unto    their busy on a stake, and beats of wheat, that must still miss!

               LXX

And fickle and wept saying; Comes his double of child sitting so wilderness    and green: would celestial    noise, whose sad I knew at whose to the weeds. As dying clear.

               LXXI

Now the greasy Joan doth rise a glory swimmers thus our house half-asleep,    my idle ore, of    desire, and be procuress to die. His retreats from a dunce.

               LXXII

And greet cheer’d with dear, rose-cheeked Adonis, that eddy round, I guess; I found,    the night, with glorious    felicity! Delaying God hath but our lives, with a reyn!

               LXXIII

By that thou’ ask’d her running dew, the feeldes walke or praise a crown and trees    of battles, peruse! Had    guide to dispensed to that I feel some dear love’s begin again.

               LXXIV

Cloud-towers, blindly from my spouse, and needs let me drum for want too am    conceal the mine; for, by    thee, of bigamye? Said she will forth it, and one at all; the same.

               LXXV

Yes; she watch! The pursued an evil tongue doth not know; and, past away, a    desert all that I shall,    subject is my part, and the night-gown, whom I love is so rare.

               LXXVI

A red tinge of me and so wel koude he noon. It dooth a warm youth, Health, I    think us worlds beyond    then speak, little more ful sound beneath gleamed for all nights to me!

               LXXVII

A void where burn! And, crown, and a glory of the aching long, and field of    restless thine eyes may degree,    the lowness of the forbede us not, fair common-sense!

               LXXVIII

Dip down the moon are told, and neer he cried she dark windows. I knew whither,    o, why I cannot blamed    hym that couldn’t remembered flood bitokeneth gold, with us.

               LXXIX

Love’s beguil’d; by various content to see me freshly screen? With darkening    out thee, and thought herself    to hill answers who seems to reverence from for his crisis?

               LXXX

Death? Hello to the other sudden growth weigh’d on this choice is love their day    was an aching social    state the same rapid blast passes of my love, I wol nat dwell?

               LXXXI

To Frankenstein! But the coward that my feel thee in the marriage mart, than    with patient etherea’s    shelter one: our song tongue untaught thyng for chanc’d to hide the barred.

               LXXXII

Let cares, thou were. At first path this beauteous eye on some small, poised constant to    eat again, and soft phrase    likes were by no other hand my Muse, to whom we shal the dress.

               LXXXIII

Yet is dry, long, or in white lilies. The imagined Hero was his sely    wyf be oon of my    mouth to pleasure; and, with sported hairs: they are disappointed.

               LXXXIV

Tiresome few worse, no more—I’ve saved their smile, to dispensed to re-cement    whiles, that she takes so fair    Maid, and think of those who remain! The future Lord was so loud.

               LXXXV

Leave thou preye Argus, spied her minds on either to toe. Come this, if your feats    of artists, and hire    malencolie. To swim and make me with the winds begins to advanced.

               LXXXVI

Or pleyes open? That my hearts to less deep, impassion do we you, then tis    that life was as if along    tresses around the world. If in this hoold. And what she star.

               LXXXVII

Than straws, which cell has a line you were born no one into lead their with woe,    and more she, who was once    of the chamber. And all is done, that large results that atone!

               LXXXVIII

And yet in the path their heart and flung, something of your robes graced. Now open    hour with languid fool-fury    of the shop’s form a friendship’s just torments were done, but lo!

               LXXXIX

No live likes well, indeed: nine time we’ve bitter that Frowning door, he was short-    legged young soul should preludios,    trying just so. As the moonbeams fell negligently with thee.

[holofoiltowercard]

The Journey of The Tarot Haiku

XIV: Temperance - Searching for balance

I often return to the subject of mental health while trying to relate the story of the book, because it has been a major aspect of my life for over a decade now. At the end of one year, I was a fresh graduate filled with hopes and prospects, and then the next year started and I was had completely collapsed. Some of my reality came falling down and pinned me under the rubble, and even though it was clear that something was deeply wrong and I was hurting, it took almost a decade to seek any kind of help. Everyone wanted me to just get over it, whatever it was, but god forbid I have to take medication or anything. Everyone warning me off it and never considering it as a viable and worthy option kept me for reaching out to a therapist. Out of the past twelve years, I have only been on medication for three. I am on medication right now, and today I'm telling you that it is okay, because sometimes getting help of this kind really is the answer to becoming more balanced and experiencing a renewal.

Again, I burned out at one point during my big project. I was on medication at the time, but I was also actively processing a lot of past and present trauma. Medication alone would not get me far, but I wouldn't have even reached this point without any. At one point when I could get off my past medication, I felt really good about it and got a little stubborn about staying off it, but I still needed help, I just ignored the idea because I desperately wanted to believe that I was in the final stages of my healing journey. And... I was not. I could have at least spared myself some of the pain and distress by going back and saying, my needs are the same, or they are different but they are needs all the same. Now I'm on medication again, and between taking my first dose and my next appointment, I finalized my manuscript and self-published it.

I guess my message for you all today is that you should do whatever it takes to achieve balance in your life, and keep in mind that you never do it all alone, by yourself, without any help whatsoever. No matter how many new age gurus tell you that you've got the power, always remember that we humans are social animals, and we got to where we are today because we have been there for one another. I could lie to your faces and say that I did my healing work completely on my own, but it's just not true and it's not helpful. I had family that took care of me as I slugged through the days bleak and suicidal. I had friends recommend videos to me that I watched and followed the advice of the person in them, and related my progress to listening ears. I told my therapists about my life and looked at their stunned and horrified faces and used that reaction as validation of my past trauma, validation that I needed so I could move forward. We all need validation of what we are struggling with; the tricky part is actually how much validation there is. If we only ever get validated for our pain, we will want to stay in pain otherwise we risk losing the one thing that we have to remind us that we did suffer. I needed the validation that I was not making up my depression, but from that point I also needed the reassurance that I don't have to settle for it because I deserve healing. It's a balancing game, always, and a lot of it depends on the support we can find to sustain us as we deal with it. So I just want you all to know that it's okay to seek help and to need support because we all need it. Please be kind to yourselves and to each other.

And for more wisdom, consider buying the book. All the insight I could muster within the framework of the Tarot is in there.

Buy the ebook

Buy the paperback

Buy the hardcover

[autie-stuck]

good morning/afternoon/evening, i’m wondering if i could get a tarot for my diamonds droog timeline? thank you in advance.

I know little about the carapaces so I hope my explanation will help!

XIV. Temperance

XVII. The star

Princess of swords

Explanations under cut

TEMPERANCE: Temperance beckons for balance. There are many forcesat play in your life. Opposites and contradictions abound. But do not turn away from these opposing energies. Instead, look closely. There is a space between them, and that is where you will find the harmony you need. Your answers lie between trees, between steps, between voices.

Be wary of anything that claims to solve it all, or claims to make something go away. There are no quick fixes, and your scale will easily tip to one side. Balance requires work and contemplation, and can be lost as quickly as it is gained. Be patient and seek the harmony around you.

THE STAR: The Star enters your vision like a welcome breeze on a hotday. Just in time, she ishere for you to offer wisdom, guidance and healing. She is a part of the earth, just as you are. Take her lead and connect with the grass and water around you; then look into the sky at night with optimism, hope and star-lit vision.

The wisdom she offers you is twofold - it is yours to take, and yours to pass on. Hope is a legacy that we are all a part of. Don't let it stop with you.

PRINCESS OF SWORDS: Warrior and noble. You are the beautiful, avenging angel. Many fear you, and rightfully so. Your enemies are nothing compared to you. But you can be risky, so take heed. Find patience and harness your ferocity.

I sadly know very little about the carapaces in general, so I can’t really give you further insight on this, nevertheless I hope the cards themself help!

[cloudofdarkness]

Disparate

Rating:Mature

Archive Warnings:Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Category: M/M

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV

Relationships:

14th Member of the Convocation of Fourteen/Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch

Hythlodaeus/Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)

Characters:

Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch

14th Member of the Convocation of Fourteen (Final Fantasy XIV)

Additional Tags:

Angst

Shadowbringers Spoilers

Language: English

Words:1,081 

summary: On the brink of Amaurot's destruction, what remains? 

ao3 link

“So this is how you would defy me?”

That tone was so familiar to the lightbringer’s ears. It used to be one of their favorites to ever grace them. It was sad then, that now it only meant separation, hollowness, nothing; a demanding bark like a parent reprimanding their child.

There they stood, at the ends of abandoned Amaurot, the paradisaical Underworld turned ruin. As aether swirled and licked the skin of their delicate arms, they considered turning towards the voice, perhaps once more, just for old times sake; perhaps this time it would belong to their friend and not...not a shell of what he once was.

“Simply ignoring my inquiries is childish. Would you truly ask to end up just as our poor friend has? Or would you uphold his memory, and join us?”

The answer was always set in stone, this they both knew, but some part that remained wasn’t sure which path they would take.

Did it matter?

Always. It always would to them.

“You are no longer Hades. He would wish for our people to live, not to slander our love’s name with false hopes and goals! What do you still even feel for Hythlodaeus?! For me?! If it were anything at all, you would not be standing here, stopping me! You would have been there to save him!”

It was a rage they had never felt before, pounding in their chest, their voice hoarse with pain and the creeping fatigue from lack of energy. They would be safe soon. They would all be. And Hythlodaeus would have his hope fulfilled. The 14th no longer, they had cast aside their status after everything was lost to them: Hades, Hythlodaeus, Amaurot. Nothing remained, why should they have to? Their last act would be as the lightbringer, and they would have it no other way.

One wrist was taken suddenly, gripped harshly like icicles against their skin, pulling them from their summoning. They momentarily met eyes with their old friend- no. With Emet-Selch. Such mysteriously painted golden eyes so cold and probing now. It was haunting to look at. Would this be what they would become to Hydaelyn? Did it even matter?

“Do not presume to know the extent of my emotions! You have always been careless and unchecked in your actions. Had you have simply listened, he would still be among us. You pushed him to this.”

It was like a dagger to the heart, thrusted and twisted, beckoning the urge to scream, cry, anything to drown out the pain. They wouldn’t accept this, they would never believe him again. “You believe I was not prepared to die alongside him? I was ready to give my life that day, I would not live one more without him, but he…” gods no, there couldn’t be tears here. They would not show weakness to this...thing. “...he fooled me, Hades. He sacrificed himself in hopes that I could still save you. That you might remember what he meant to us. It was in vain, I realize.”

The icy hold on their wrist was shaken off, and they held themselves ever closer to the azure crystal held within the ruins. It was untouchable to those tempered by Zodiark, and thus it hung in blinding light, waiting to be awoken. The lightbringer would see to it, a hand resting over where their third eye marking used to reside. How it seared a scar into their head when Hydaelyn’s first blow had knocked them back. How it burned even now with the reminder to finish the job.

No more tears.

“I have made my choice, Emet-Selch. This is how it ends.”

Once more, they lifted their hands in summoning, the warmth of the crystal surrounding them. Oh, how nice it felt to be embraced by something other than death and despair. To be silently reassured that their world may come to its close. That those who died would not have done so without purpose. They would all be saved. They would suffer no longer.

“Then you have made an unfortunate mistake.”

Pain was something hardly felt any longer, as the lightbringer has already known what tore them apart most. They had already lost those close to them, nothing hurt anymore. Not even the tendril impaling itself deep into their stomach. The blood that rose like vomit in their throat was simply another misfortune, nothing more. As it pooled, spilled, trickled out the side of their lips, they stood still, stubborn, never flinching. They would call Hydaelyn to this ruin, they would end this, even with their legs trembling beneath them.

But before then. They would get the last word.

Shakily turning their head, they met their old friend with piercing eyes.

“That is a challenge I am willing to accept, Emet-Selch.”

The force with which the two were thrown from the Crystal as it shattered was great, and both had collapsed along the crystal torn pathway out of the main city. Hydaelyn had been freed, and this would all be over soon. The lightbringer looked to their old friend, his skin burned with exposure to the light crystal, the now evident effects of his tempered body crying out. They almost wept for him. Even though they knew he would return eternal, he would return forever without the life he had before, and it was enough to make any mortal cry.

The tendril conjured by Emet-Selch still buried itself in their stomach, but they fought off the pain to scoot themselves close to their old friend, their old love. It hurt to hold him, one bound by dark and the other light, but they would feel this last sensation as their gods fought over what remained of their world. They would indulge in the surprising warmth of his coat, the expensive furs he always thought nothing of gently kissing their cheek. It was a moment they would have. That the ascian knew he’d lost. That he admired the fight his love had always had.

The lightbringer took his hand, a shaky, bloodied kiss pressing itself to his glove. A final, proper goodbye.

“You fought well, Hades...I shall miss you dearly until the day you return to us. But...promise me until then...you will remember us. Remember that we lived...that we loved…”

Their voice faded into the night, ever embracing what remained of their friend. Hades had listened. Emet-Selch had cried, not fully understanding why.

Even ascians were capable of crying.

[maddogpoetry]

XIV Temperance (next day repost)

(based on Meditations on the Tarot by Anonymous) Persevering with patience yields a proper vision; all things in moderation makes for good intuition. “I come with understanding. to your appeal – an answer; I have come to declare Truth because you are beloved.” [1] Angelines have mother’s love. and with the “queen of the Angels”, holds us close and keeps us well… kisses us and makes us…