#anyway THANK YOU GABBY ILU

[frenchy-and-the-sea]

13 & 20 for wyn!!!!!!!!

13. Do you have a voice claim for the character? What do you imagine the character sounds like?

Wyn is one of those weird characters where I feel like her voice is actually pretty similar to the one that I've conjured for her?? It's low and soft and a little airy, spoken closer to the front of the mouth, with the accent that I ripped absolutely wholesale from listening to Zevran Dragon Age banters LMAO. It's very even and measured and weirdly aristocratic-sounding, which makes it especially hilarious when she talks about how it was "not especially difficult to fuck [her] way into being the family disappointment."

The incongruity with which a sentence like that jars against her very gentle-sounding voice is always funny, in her opinion.

20. Bonus question: share any additional thoughts, art, favourite scenes, anything you’ve been waiting for a chance to ramble about

Despite the fact that she isn't trying to hide anything about her past AT ALL, Wyn still hasn't shared any of it with the party. The closest she has come so far was last session when Tobias (our wizard) pulled her aside to ask her to look over his Find Familiar spell. Since arriving in Barovia, Tobias's familiar (a raven very aptly named Lenore) has appeared very sickly whenever she's summoned. She'll pop out of the summoning circle with feathers missing and patches of skin falling off, and while she doesn't seem to be actively in pain, it's been bothering Tobias so much that he spent our downtime last session carefully writing out every rune to be sure he got it right.

So he called Wyn over and asked her to take a look, and she assured him that his circle looked fine, and that it was very probably a function of spellcasting in Barovia. She told him that her own spells have been showing signs of changing too, so she didn't think it was HIS fault that Lenore looked like shit. Tobias still looked doubtful though, which made Wyn roll her eyes and say something like, "Gods, you're just like my brother. He was also a stickler for his spellcraft."

And Tobias, bless him, caught her completely off guard when he turned to her and asked, very gently, "Was?"

Wyn hadn't even realized that she had used past tense to talk about Atticus. She'd just been ribbing Tobias a little, and hadn't expected him or ANYONE to clock it. But he had, and he was so grave and gentle about it that she just. told him. Said that yes, was, because her brother had passed a little over a year ago, and then had to immediately change the subject because like. holy shit. Who would've thought that the guy who couldn't be bothered to remember a single NPC's name correctly and who regularly missed whole conversations because he was doing his own thing would be so attentive to this? To the one thing that she feels really, truly strongly about?

It was a little moment but it sticks with me, man. :>

[messmertheimpaler]

💀📓⚖️💧 💗🗺️ for my mijas Arden and Autumn!!!

thank u gabby… my true heaux………..ilu…

ARDEN

💀 Has your OC ever lost anyone to death? Multiple people? People close to them? How does the loss make them feel?

I would say her parents, but they’re technically not dead, but she has no idea about any of that. With that in mind, she does feel a certain kind of loss for them, she misses the domesticity when she was younger. Having her grandmother, no matter if it was tumultuous at times, it heals that wound in her heart. 

📓 Write a typical diary/journal page by your OC! (or if you’d rather not, describe their journal. Do they keep one, why?)

“March 19th,

Another boring day in Redgrave, but it’s better than being in grandmother’s house. Even when she’s around, the house feels too quiet and it makes me feel small. I hate it there sometimes. Which reminds me, I need to buy more plants for my apartment. I know, I know, ‘You already have a garden on your windowsill, you weirdo.’ But whatever, that’s why I got my own place so I can do whatever I want with it. I feel you judging me. Anyway, it’s been a month since I’ve seen her, I think she’s given up on finding me. Thank god.

-Arden”

⚖️ What is the biggest crime your OC has committed? Are they a theif, a cheat, a liar? What is the smallest, most petty crime they’ve committed? Or do they not do crime at all?

Idk if it counts as her being a demon hunter as like, a crime, but she does cast little spells to get info out of people if they’re being stubborn. Other than that, she’s pretty a by-the-book type of person, a goody two shoes, which she gets teased for a lot lmao

💧 What makes your OC lose hope, what makes them give up and feel helpless? Have they ever given up on something really important or let go of a dream? What are some of their biggest regrets? Would they ever try again (if they’re able to)?

The day she gave up Nero was the lowest point of her life. Everyone understood why she did it and no one hated or blamed her for it and they let her grieve for a time. Ever since then she has a weak spot seeing a mother doting on her child and if any child is in danger, she’ll jump at the chance to protect them any way she can. But if she had to do it all over again, she would since the whole point was to protect Nero from her grandmother. 

💗 Relationships? Who are their friends, their family relations, lover(s), foes? What sort of personalities really tick them off and what others do they like? Is there anything that’d ruin a friendship for them? 

Her best friends are Dante, Lady, and Trish, but she’s particularly close to Dante. She’s got is her grandmother, but it’s severely strained due to her grandmother keeping her locked in a room for weeks/months at a time for ~experiments~ which is why she ran away from her. And then she has her son Nero, who she would kill and die for. They’ve worked past through the whole her giving him to an orphanage and she lives to embarrass him at any given point. Vergil is her mans, babey!! They didn’t like each other and part of her telling Vergil about Arkham was so he can GTFO but then he found himself visiting her anyway and then she fell for him. Now they’re like Morticia and Gomez Addams and everyone is sick of it. The thing she didn’t like about Vergil’s personality in the beginning was how cold he was and only ever said two words to her which annoyed her a lot. He still has the habit of doing it but Arden has since let it slide. Arden has a lot of love for her friends, so it’d take like, them working with her grandmother for her to hate them forever, but she’s never had to worry about that.

🗺️ Does your OC like going on adventures? Have they ever discovered something really interesting and significant or are they just too busy getting lost? Where is their favourite place they’ve been? Least favourite?

Arden wasn’t big on adventures due to being sheltered when she was a child, but as she got older she imagined going out exploring abandoned castles or traveling on a ship. Then when she became a demon hunter, she traveled from city to city and loved every single minute of it. Arden has found a lot of old landmarks while getting lost so it’s always unintentional when she finds something cool and it takes Dante a whole hour to find her lmfao. She didn’t get a chance to go to Fortuna, but she definitely considers that to be her least favorite place and refuses to go even though Nero lives there with Kyrie. Her favorite places have been Ireland and Greece.

AUTUMN

💀 Has your OC ever lost anyone to death? Multiple people? People close to them? How does the loss make them feel?

Autumn lost her mother as a young child which affected her deeply and caused her to lash out a lot towards her dad. She had an older brother who died before she was even born so she doesn’t really know how to feel about that one.

📓 Write a typical diary/journal page by your OC! (or if you’d rather not, describe their journal. Do they keep one, why?)

The journal she keeps is more for her dad, to write down her treasure hunting adventures to show to her dad since he’s the one who got her started on becoming a treasure hunter. She has about twelve journals starting from when she went with her dad at age fifteen and continues to write her the adventures she’s had with Nathan and the others.

⚖️ What is the biggest crime your OC has committed? Are they a theif, a cheat, a liar? What is the smallest, most petty crime they’ve committed? Or do they not do crime at all?

Her side profession is definitely a crime lmao but she tries to keep it at a minimum and can proudly say she hasn’t killed anyone.

 💧 What makes your OC lose hope, what makes them give up and feel helpless? Have they ever given up on something really important or let go of a dream? What are some of their biggest regrets? Would they ever try again (if they’re able to)?

Nothing, because she’s too stubborn to ever give up on herself or anyone. LMAO but for real, like, it’s one of her better qualities that she and others have come to rely on. Whenever things seem hopeless, Autumn has the strength to keep going and to see the silver linings in everything. Her only regret would be on how she treated her father in the beginning, but their relationship has grown stronger and she wouldn’t change a thing.

💗 Relationships? Who are their friends, their family relations, lover(s), foes? What sort of personalities really tick them off and what others do they like? Is there anything that’d ruin a friendship for them?

Her close friends are Elena and Chloe which was real awkward in the beginning for her lmfao but they grew past that and Autumn was so grateful for it. Victor considers her like his niece and calls him ‘Uncle Vic’ most of the time anyway. Nathan’s become her annoying brother-in-law but she loves him a whole lot. She had a very brief thing with Rafe which caused a lot of drama between him and Sam. It was a dark time for her. But then she eventually got Sam to wake the fuck up and realize that he loves Autumn and that he never wants to lose her and marries her after everything. She gets along with most people but hates people who try to act Fake Intellectual and school her on things like she’s a first grader.

🗺️ Does your OC like going on adventures? Have they ever discovered something really interesting and significant or are they just too busy getting lost? Where is their favourite place they’ve been? Least favourite?

Oh of course lmao she’s been on adventures she was fifteen and centered her life around it and even became a history teacher just to say things like “I’ve been there,” to impress her students. Autumn’s discovered a lot of treasures even some that she didn’t bring back with her but she takes photos of everything she sees. Her favorite place so far has been going to Yemen and her least favorite for sure was the Istanbul Palace.

[scoupsnet]

Happy Birthday Gabby!!!  @jeonwuu

AAAAAAH HAPPY BIRTHDAY GABBY!! i hope your day went well and that you recieve lots of love from all your friends n fam, you deserve it! ☀️ -Channie

omg bab you’re growing up too fast :”) have fun with life while you’re still young lmao as if i’m not only two years older but anyway thank you for being so nice and hilarious and being such a cutie. i’m glad we got to be friends but also come back and talk to us more ): we miss you ❤️ happy birthday bub, i hope you have an amazing day -Trin

Happy cakedy Gabby!! We may not have talked too much, but I’m thankful for all you admins for creating this network!! I hope I get to know everyone better in the future. 😊 Have an amazing and fantastic birthday!! 🎂🎉 -Vi

happy sweet 16 gabby!!! you’re one year closer to being the dancing queen lmao. hope you have an amazing day~ love you! -Callie

gabby happy birthday!!!!! i still have that screenshot of you w the book cover in front of your face and it was the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen, but seriously you’re a piece of art and an amzing person and i’m really glad i’ve met you!!!!! i hope you have a great birthday and a wonderful year!! <3 -Lulu

gabs, gabby, bev’s mating buddy, gabbo. mate ur so sweet and kind and ilu and like i dont know what to say bc im not usually an affectionate person, but ur really cute and deserve so much. i hope that u have the greatest day !! and year!! -Mishi

gabs! happy bday youre getting older now (dont grow up it mostly sucks lmao) anyways im lad to have met u and the rest of scnet (even tho ya’ll are kinda nuts istg). eat lots of cake and stay healthy -Sica

Gabby!! Thank you for being awesome and almost always somehow keeping a smile on my face. I’m very happy that I was able to meet you. And I hope you will continue to be Dabgab, and yet still be awesome and friendly to us all! I know I have only known you for a couple months even though I am sometimes not that active. I love just reading your emssages. ALSO I hope that for your birthday you get all the best gifts and wishes, also be sure to eat lots of cake (as long as you’re not allergic!!) -C

Happy birthday gabby!! Hope you’re having an amazing one and celebrating it well with friends and family!! Eat lots of cake today, you deserve it !! ❤️❤️ -Vinc

HAPPY BIRTHDAY GABBY!!! I know we don’t talk much, but I really appreciate having you around :D I hope you have a wonderful day with lots of good food!! Sending you lots of love~ Happy sweet 16th!!!! ❤️❤️❤️ -Leah

HAPPY BIRTHDAY GABBY!!! I hope your day is absolutely amazing bc ur amazing and you deserve it lol. You’re one year closer to being only seventeen and only having a few dollas so enjoy it~ -Ally

heyo gab!! hope you have an amazing sweet 16 and you get to celebrate it with the people you love and hold near to your heart! ❤️ -Klara

To gab the smol bean. I hope you grow as a person and that only good things may come you're way. Happy birthday dude - Ana🐷

Happy birthday gabby! I love you and I hope this new year of your life brings you the sweet meaty embrace of seungcheol’s thighs -Abi

hi gabby i hope you’re doing well!! happy birthday, i bet it’s going to be wonderful and amazing!! nd may you have many more bdays yay! -Kaylah

gabby !! hi lov i hope ur doing okay. wanted to wish you a happy birthday !! i can’t believe that you’re growing up and getting old (jkjk ilu okay. we’re getting old together). be happy and hope you have a great day on your day !! love u lots ❤️❤️✨❣💝 -Jose

Happy birthday dear Gabby! I hope today is filled with sunshine and rainbos :,D Eat lots of cake and have fun! <3 -Dana

yoyo gabs, happy birthday bro!!! thanks for always being such a wonderful and caring admin!! im glad that i joined this network because i got to meet people like you!! i hope you enjoyed your day, and i love you <3 happy birthday!! -CF

Happy birthday Gabby!! ♡ I hope you have an amazing day and that all your dreams wishes come true. Here’s to another wonderful year filled with happiness, peace, sweet surprises, and once in a lifetime experiences. May this day bring to you all things that make you smile!! ♡♡ -Ali

My dearest chickie, I hope you have the best most exciting fantastic day. You’re so sweet and kind and beautiful and deserve the very best. I’m very glad to have met you even tho you give me constant grief. From summer to now you’ve grown so much (i sound so formal and nostalgic ik but thats because i aM) and you’re going to keep growing older and its going to sucK but thats ok because i’ll always be here to pat pat you when it gets sucky. i hope you enjoy your day and have a kickass year, love <3333 -Aparna

my message: HAPPY BIRTHDAY GABBO you’re 1 year closer to legally having a sugar daddy now!!!!! thanks 4 being my partner in gav and partner in complaining about other people ily and i hope u had a fun birthday and got to eat cake -Bev

[frenchy-and-the-sea]

FFXIV - The Fall

@urdnotgrunt​ has been my very patient partner in crime for the last few months (crime being my newfound addiction to ffxiv and all of the insanity that comes with that) and the last few weeks have been objectively terrible, so I thought it was high time I did something about it. And since Gabby made the mistake of telling me about their lovely WoL Ile, and the exact moment that he fell hard for Haurchefant, I decided to take a very non-canon stab at it. <3 Thank you for inadvertently letting me borrow your boy Gabby, ilu!!

~2000, set during the Heavensward main story quest “Divine Intervention,” so spoilers for the Heavensward main story quest “Divine Intervention,” lmao.

---

Ile had two rules, when he stepped onto the floor of the Tribunal as Tataru’s champion. 

The first was, ‘don’t get hit.’ That one was easy enough; he had spent the last year and a half learning how to follow that particular guideline, which in this case had the neat little added bonus of keeping him from having to fish two full inches of Ishgardian steel out of whatever superfluous hole it made in him. That alone made it worth paying it a little extra mind.

The second rule was, ‘don’t look at Haurchefant.’

This one was, admittedly, much harder, especially because his usual rule regarding a certain Knight Commander was, ‘look as much as possible without coming across as crass, and sometimes even then, too.’ The fact that Haurchefant had encouraged it not five minutes earlier didn’t help matters, nor did the fact that Ile could still feel the strange, squirming aftereffects of what his innards had done when he had. “Look to me in the stands,” Haurchefant had said, “and I shall cheer so loud, you will wonder how you could ever have contrived to doubt yourself!”

Which was sweet and lovely and grand, except that it had turned Ile’s heart into a convincing imitation of a sledgehammer that had yet to stop swinging.

Thus, the rules. Standing under the blinding lights of the Tribunal floor, he tried to put every ounce of his focus on the first, listening with half an ear as the rules of engagement were read out. There was some very Ishgardian prattery about judgment in the eyes of the Fury, which he tried to pay attention to, and then an announcement of their opponents, which he didn't. He had already seen them, loitering like two grinning street toughs on the corner of the room. That alone had told him just about everything he needed to know about what he would be facing. They would be cocky and self-important, the way every coin-bloated bandit that wore a guardsman’s colors was, and they would think themselves well above a common bowman and a waifish teenager with a spellbook. They wouldn’t lower themselves to an honest fight.

And they would lose, just so long as Ile remembered the godsdamned rules.

That proved easier when the adjudicator’s hand finally came down. Cocky or not, their opposition were still two high knights of Ishgard, and even their laziest fight was still worth paying some attention to. He and Alphinaud opened with a sweeping hailstorm of fire and arrows that forced their opposition back to the other side of the floor, taking shifts so that they couldn’t get close enough to bring their weapons to bear. It was a simple strategy, well-tested and derived wordlessly from a long history of having each other’s backs. It should have been easy. It should have been perfect.

Except, of course, that it let Ile remember the subject of rule number two.

From their place crowded against the far wall, he had a good view of the entire stage, which spread out in a low plane of polished marble between two long rows of theater seats that flanked either side. Presumably, those seats were meant to lord over the combatants so that onlookers could watch Halone’s judgment without fear for their own safety, but Ile’s current position meant that the faces of his audience occasionally drifted into the backdrop of his opponents, who were capturing less and less of his attention as they struggled to gain ground. And while he didn’t quite look for — and didn’t quite see — a certain Knight Commander, he felt his gaze inexorably called back to the stands anyway, back towards the crowd, searching without really searching, as the still-swinging hammer of his heart made a concerted effort to get past his ribs. 

He had just made his third pass at the onlookers when his cheating finally caught up with him. His eyes caught on a flash of snow-weathered chainmail as a cheer went up through the crowd, and the arrow that he had been fumbling onto its string suddenly leapt from his fingers, skidding out of reach across the polished stone. He swore and dove for it, but the damage was already done; suddenly, the delicate back-and-forth dance that he and Alphinaud had been sharing gave ground, and the knight with the lance balanced in his hands burst forward with a wordless shout of triumph.

Hissing, Ile abandoned his arrow and threw himself sideways instead, narrowly avoiding the man’s spear as it whizzed just past his shoulder. He rebounded painfully off of the wall beneath a couple of gasping women’s skirt hems and came upright again with a fresh arrow already in his fingers, already set to his bow — only to find the knight staggering away, swearing and kicking at the glittering yellow creature nipping imperiously at his heels. Alphinaud. Ile huffed and put his new arrow at the bastard’s retreating feet to hurry him along, then turned aside to offer the boy a nod of thanks.

Instead, he found Haurchefant.

The Knight Commander was pressed right up against the rail beside them, both hands gripped so tightly to the edge that Ile swore he could see the whites of his knuckles. Whatever pretense Haurchefant had been keeping about being excited for the fight was gone now; at twenty paces, he was ashen-faced, standing tall and rigid as stone, a thin tremor of readiness rattling through his shoulders like he was one bad turn away from leaping the barrier to take up arms himself. He turned in the same moment Ile did, like a beacon, like a mirror, and as their eyes met, Ile felt the world slow to a crawl.

For a long moment, they just stared at each other, wide-eyed with surprise. Ile’s heart finally gave up its efforts to fling itself from his chest and went bounding off like a dog freed of its lead instead, dropping down into his stomach, to the turn of his wrists, up into the hollow of his throat. Of course Haurchefant was close, he thought hazily; where else would he have been? Only ever on their side, only ever right at hand. Why hadn’t Ile thought to consider that he would be within shouting distance? Within arm’s reach?

Why hadn’t he thought that Haruchefant had meant for him to hear his cheering, too?

Something about that thought must have rattled the aether between them, because a second later, Haurchefant’s face split into a smile as wide and brilliant as the sun, and he did exactly as he had threatened to; he leaned forward, nearly onto the Tribunal floor himself, and bellowed a wordless cheer that picked up Ile’s wayward heart and sent it spinning.

It also damn near got him killed, when a lance suddenly lunged into his periphery with a thrust that should have gutted him.

The fight after that was a blur, dancing across Ile’s senses in a rush of nerves and adrenaline that had nothing at all to do with fear. He barely even noticed when he slipped his opponent’s guard and bashed him hard with the grip of his bow, sending the poor sod sprawling to the ground in an impressive spray of blood. He barely noticed the adjudicator calling their victory, or the barriers coming down; he didn't even notice that he had walked down the short flight of stairs to the Tribunal floor, alive, miraculously unhurt, until Alphinaud’s hand touched his arm.

“Delivered from an untimely demise yet again,” the boy said when he glanced down, coaxing up a weary smile. “You have my thanks.”

“And mine!” Startled, Ile turned as Tataru bounded off of the platform sliding back into place beside them, grinning so broadly that it had turned her cheeks a brilliant shade of pink. She threw both arms around his thighs in the Lalafellin approximation of a hug, squeezing hard enough to buckle him. “Oh, I nearly cried when you stepped forward, I was so relieved! But then that Paulecrain fellow got so close to you, and I thought — well, but I should have known that you would be fine!”

“Although it was certainly a near thing,” Alphinaud said under his breath, with a little twist of a smile. Ile scowled, feeling a little more of his sense trickle back with the faint flush of heat across his neck.

“I have bad days,” he said defensively. “Sometimes often. Sometimes twice in a row! And I think if they’re ever going to be allowed, it should be when I’m fighting someone trained to kill dragons.”

"By the Fury!” said a voice behind them suddenly. “If that was one of your bad days, I should very much like to see a good one!”

Haurchefant had somehow managed to get across the Tribunal stage in record time despite the steady flood of muttering nobility, and was hastening down the stairs towards them. He nearly collided with a feeble-looking nobleman trying to navigate the descent alone and paused for a moment to steady him, offering a quiet apology that made the older man chuckle. The sight pitched Ile’s heart sharply down to his knees. Beside him, Tataru giggled.

“Lord Haurchefant,” said Alphinaud when he had finally nudged his way over, offering a shallow bow that favored one side. “A pleasure to see you on this side of the rail once again. I take it our accusers got the spectacle they wanted?”

“If the spectacle that they wanted was a defeat most handily served, I suppose they did,” said Haurchefant, laughing. “And what a splendid victory it was! I’m certain that neither I, nor anyone who chose to attend you today, were expecting to bear witness to such a rousing show. Nor have they seen any of its like before, I’m certain! You were magnificent.” 

He caught Ile’s eye on the last word, beaming so that it crinkled the corners of his eyes, and whatever bravery Ile’s heart had begun to muster slipped right back down to his feet again.

“You're not without due credit yourself, Lord Haurchefant," Tataru said, finally detaching herself from Ile’s knees. “Why, I think they heard your cheering in the Brume! That sort of encouragement must have done something for our friends here, don’t you agree?"

She snuck a glance up to Ile with a smile like a trap snapping shut, and for a moment, he considered letting his much-abused heart do exactly as it wanted and stop beating right then and there. Instead, he forced himself to turn to Haurchefant too, summoning a grin that was entirely reflex. 

“Can’t say it hurt,” he said, and was rewarded with another broad laugh.

“Would that I could have done more than cheer! Ah, but you certainly did not need it; I am pleased enough to have borne witness to the Warrior of Light at work. That, and to bear his friends safely away from the arms of Ishgardian law.” Alphinaud’s eyebrows shot upwards, alarmed, but Haurchefant just held up a hand. “Peace, Master Alphinaud. I speak only of the formalities of your release, which I intend to see to personally. Fear not; it shall not take overly long. But may I suggest you reconvene back at the Manor? Our illustrious hero is like to be swamped with curious well-wishers ere long, and I cannot abide so soon throwing him to the wolves before he has had a chance to rest.”

He glanced back to Ile, and the smile that he offered this time may as well have shook the whole world down. It wasn’t the broad, beaming grin that he had rushed over with, or even his usual exuberance, but something softer, gentler, touched at the corners with the same ashen look that he had worn during the fight — something almost like worry, like sun shaded-over. It was a smile for him, Ile realized with a start, as intimate a look as someone like Haurchefant could offer in a crowd. It said, very gently: you will find no more hardship while I am here.

Something deep in Ile’s chest turned over, and he felt himself fall hard.

He must have managed a nod, and an exceedingly normal one at that, because the lines around Haurchefant’s eyes crinkled again as he stepped forward and dropped a hand onto his shoulder.

“The Manor, then,” he said, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Rest, my friend. We shall be along soon.” 

And then he was gone, sweeping away with Tataru and Alphinaud in tow, like he hadn’t just taken a piece of Ile’s heart with him.

[frenchy-and-the-sea]

FFXIV - Jump (I Dare You)

I have a long list of excuses as to why this exists, but the most simple one is: I played through the Heavensward expansion as a dragoon and got attached. So did my PC. Thus, here is the first in a series of little in-between vignettes featuring my player character, Tritchet Pock, her family, and her impression of the big spiky dragon man that she unexpectedly got a little soft on. I’m posting it here mostly for posterity, and for the two people who are interested. 💜

~1400 words, set during the Heavensward main story quest, ‘Gifts for the Outcasts.’ (Inspired very very VERY loosely by The Regrettes’s ‘I Dare You’)

---

Shading her eyes against the glare of the sun, Tritchet Pock peered up to the towering canopy of trees above her and said, with a delicate shrug of one shoulder, “I just think you could use some help, is all.”

"Could I?" In her periphery, a sleek black shadow stepped forward to regard her, arms folding over its chest with the glossy click of armored dragon scale. Estinien had only been halfway through his work when Tritchet had stumbled across him again, dragging a stinking sack of nanka flesh through the dirt behind her. The errand that she and her sisters had been sent after had devolved quickly — and largely by her own hand — into a competition, which Wickit had swiftly won, and which had left Tritchet to handle the messy business of delivering their quarry back to Alphinaud alone. She had endeavored to take the longest route possible back as a last act of petty vengeance, and had instead stumbled across Estinien circling the roots of one of the forest’s massive caelumtrees, surveying the canopy above for another handful of fruit to add to his growing pile. 

Now he loomed over her shoulder, his head angled towards her in a gesture that indicated he was either raising an eyebrow, or glaring, or both. 

"And what manner of help, pray tell, would you be offering?" His tone, placid as pond water, at least mercifully implied more of the former than the latter. Tritchet chanced a grin.

“Why, the vertical sort!” she said brightly. “I’ve got it on some authority that dragoons are good at that, and I count at least two of them here. And as I’ve got the height advantage between the two of us —"

"Do you?" Now Estinien's tone changed, touched around the edges by the faintest glimmer of a smirk. Stood at his side, Tritchet could just make it out beneath the mirror-black curve of his helm — thin and bloodless, but more like a smile than anything she had ever seen on him before. Her grin widened.

“I do, in fact. I might only be Azure Dragoon the Secondary, but you and I both know that we’re matched where it counts — namely, in the business of a jump. And because you must spend every day of your life in fear of low-hanging candelabras —”

“ — then at your height, you must be expected to compensate. Yes, I see.” Estinien’s smirk vanished behind the shadowy jawline of his visor as he turned to regard her straight-on, head tilted ever-so-slightly to one side in a way that put Tritchet in the mind of a bird — or a dragon, maybe — sizing up its prey. She stifled a little shiver of alarm. It was easy to forget, sometimes, that she addressed the prime warrior of Ishgard, a man who regularly stood alone against dragons and regularly walked away, who seethed with the spillover of Nidhogg’s own rage and stood reliably against that too; whose power, if she was willing to be honest with herself, was more a match for Wickit’s than it would ever be for hers.

Despite her words, Tritchet suddenly felt very small indeed.

She turned away before it could get the better of her, coughing delicately into a hand. "I was, ah, only joking, you know. I’m aware that you’re perfectly capable of managing on your own.”

“No,” said Estinien suddenly, straightening so that she caught another glimpse at his ghost-thin smile. “Show me, Azure Dragoon the Secondary. You’ve made your assertion; I would see you able to prove it. I should like to know if Ishgard would be wise to seek more of our dragonslayers among the lalafell.”

That should have been an insult. There was the shape of one there, a dig at something that had dogged her heels through all of Coerthas — the sound of outsider, of usurper, of adventurer, spoken like a slur, even though she came with her lance and her grit and the Warrior of Light to their aid. Estinien, with his furious pride and penchant for sharp jabs of all kinds, ought to have only added to that chorus.

Instead, Tritchet watched in mute fascination as he strode over to the nearest trunk and carefully leaned his lance against it, head tipped back to survey the treeline again. He was not just calling her bluff, she realized with a jolt; he was answering it, without a scoff, without a sneer, without the haughty swagger of someone who expected to win without a fight. He hadn't even tried to turn her away with a terse word about frivolity. He just saw her challenge and met it, ever the equal — which, incidentally, made her an equal too.

Something in her heart turned over like an engine starting, and Tritchet shucked her lance and the stinking sack at her side like they had both suddenly caught fire. 

“First to the top, then?” she asked, casually, like her voice wasn’t trembling with barely pent-up excitement. Estinien's mouth turned faintly upwards at the corners. 

“To the highest fruit, I think,” he said, “as we’ve still a duty to court the Gnath. I, for one, do not care to be the one who keeps the likes of your sister waiting when there are alms to be given.”

He made a pointed gesture towards the sack still oozing wetly to the ground beside her, and Tritchet felt the heat beginning to puddle at the center of her chest suddenly swell into a bonfire. Envy was an old, familiar vice, but the dragon’s soul that stirred inside the heavy blue stone around her neck made it new every time, burning like fresh hellfire when the wyrm remembered its pride. She rolled her shoulders to work the shivery restlessness out of them and grinned, showing every one of her teeth.

“Oh Estinien,” she said sweetly, “you don’t have to worry about keeping Wickit waiting. Right now, you just have to worry about how you’re going to keep up with me.”

Estinien's head tipped to one side, another glare-or-raised-brow projected through the black sheen of his helm, but Tritchet barely noticed this time. Any apprehension about calling the Azure Dragoon’s ire was gone, now — she was suddenly all adrenaline, one buzzing, dragonfire heartbeat of envy and ambition and bright, sledgehammer joy. Estinien seemed to think Wickit was the one to worry about; he thought that he only needed to consider the Warrior of Light. Tritchet was going to show him. She was going to match him at his own game. Better, she was going to win it; she was going to fly.

The last thought came unbidden, a lingering sentiment of the wyrm’s fierce love of the sky, but Tritchet embraced it anyway, welcoming the familiar, liquid-fire thrill that pooled deep in the muscles of her legs as she gave the dragon its head. Beside her, she could just make out the feeling of its twin writhing up from beneath the iron grip that Estinien always kept on it, a ravaged, smothered spark of wanting that still occasionally managed to send up puffs of signal smoke. He took a position beside her, all but on fire to her dragon’s eyes.

“Very well,” he said, with offensive calm. “We make for the highest fruit of this tree; the first to claim it, claims victory. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” said Tritchet, falling into stance beside him. The thrum of anticipation was a roar in her ears now, deafening, drowning the dull hum of the forest into silence by comparison — so much that she nearly missed it when Estinien spoke again, in quiet aside under his breath.

“Then I bid you good luck, Azure Dragoon the Secondary.”

—

Twenty minutes later, Tritchet marched out of the woodline clutching a ripe, sun-swollen caelumfruit the size of both of her clenched fists, looking immensely pleased with herself. 

“It was easy,” she told Alphinaud when she handed it to him. “Estinien was right, in the end; caelumtrees are nothing to a dragoon’s jump. Given enough time, any one of us could do it.”

She passed a grin over one shoulder, back to where the man who was 'any one of us' had escaped into the protective shadow of the mountainside, and expected to be glared into an early grave.

She wasn’t.

Instead, she found herself glancing up past the liquid black of Estinien’s helm, unreadable as stone, and swearing to the Twelve and back that she saw him smile.