#fheyla

[cksimpodia]

Another wild night at Club Wake!

[straycatte-archives]

Rythas’ House Fire: featuring @fheylahaken​ Lola’s crazy cousin, where to begin? She’s always a hilarity to be around and certainly a skilled bartender! Thank you for being so open to Lola being part of the family. (: It’s been awesome getting to know Fhey more and seeing all the trouble those crazy cats can get into!

[idanwyn-et-al]

Duets and Dastardly Deeds: A Harbor Herald Exclusive!

[The Palazzo Aldenard, Mist.]

Good day, lovely readers! It is daytime where you are, perhaps, yes? Or perhaps the stars have begun their slow scrawl across the darkened bowl of the heavens, the sun a memory to be gossiped about while Her Radiance is raising crops and crisping skins on the other side of our own star. Whatever light is creeping across your parquet floor, your larboard, your patch of forest, I hope to find you in good health and with a hankering to read about a most curious concert that took place at the Palazzo Aldenard’s Opera House a few days past.

This concert hall is well-known to many, but I confess, lovely readers, that it was this reporter’s first chance to visit the venerable venue for herself, and it did not disappoint. A crewmate of mine (ah yes, yours truly is a captain now, of her very own definitely-haunted ship; quite the tale of an unlikely inheritance, and utterly better-suited for another column entirely) and I took our seats, sharing uisghe and waiting for the show to begin. As this reporter is a long time fan of Savo’s (she is indirectly responsible for a prison sentence I served some years back, another story best shared over a plate of steak frites and a gallon of stout), I knew that her gnarled, underfed-despite-everyone’s-best-efforts paw brings a twist to every show, and inspires the audience to loosen up when confronted with the unexpected. Little did I know how much of a twist this show would wring itself into, like a wet rag squeezing water over still-smoldering embers! However, I am getting ahead of myself, lovelies. 

The evening began with a dueling duet; T’ahlia and D’ahlia! D’ahlia played classical piano with poise and elegance, fingers running over the keys nimbly. T’ahlia echoed and responded with her ceruleum guitar, sending reverbs into the rafters. Still, D’ahlia was dauntless, playing the act of straight man to the showy comedy of T’ahlia’s riffs. Both showcased skill and playfulness with ease, getting things off to a joyful start.

The duo was joined by Hani Dan’na, singing a song about lost relationships. Resigned, lovely lyrics left many an eye wet; surely, it was the profusion of springtime blossoms outside that caused such a thing. Surely, that.

Lionnellais Deveraux and Rythas Brynelle next took the stage, a pas de deux in lyrical form about looking at oneself in the looking glass and resolving to change. The two tall, lithe performers did, indeed, seem to be looking into a mirror as their eyes met and their melodic runs tumbled into harmonies. To this reporter, they seemed to encapsulate the desire to make today the first day of the rest of their lives---to use a quote oft-seen in cross-stitch on one’s grandmama’s wall---but were almost daring the other to be the first to change.

Aero, a new performer to this reporter and many others in the audience, was as forthright about being high on Shroud mushrooms as he was about body positivity; he performed entirely in the nude, and one was certainly larger than the other (pupils, I mean. Pupils!).  Savo provided riffs on her famed ten-stringed viol, and the pair brought levity to the stage. I do believe in a thing called love, even if it comes at the cost of Keepers of the Moon dragging you out into the woods and making you question all you’ve ever known. 

Zanin Briggs and Rythas continued in this vein with the next piece; it seems they, too, are reluctant-yet-indulgent caretakers of Savo and Fheyla. Family may make you question everything, dear readers, but if they lead you to great adventures, things like fleas, questionable manners, and spotty hygiene can be overlooked. 

A pair of mysterious Elezen women took the boards with a back-to-back set filled with as much fire as a bellyful of my late Papa’s famous uisghe. Injecting the room with a raw-hearted, toothy roar of lyrics meant to ignite the still-simmering resentment in Ishgard, these mysterious performers dressed to impress did just that! Yes, dear readers, although word out of those stony, snowcapped spires is that the Lord Commander has done his level best to close the gap between high and lowborn, it seems a thousand years of rigid social structures and war leave those still in the social depths wondering when their voices will really be heard. It was then when this reporter began to notice something of a theme throughout the night’s performances; unease, discontent, loss, building into...

FIRE! You read that right, faithful readers; a fire erupted backstage, and we were all summarily evacuated to the lawn for half a bell’s time. Take heart; the Palazzo’s staff were professional, efficient, and informative. I have now learned that if one must shout fire at a crowded theater, this is the theater in which to do so, lovelies. Once the blaze was contained, the show did indeed go on; and that, I believe, is my quota of cliched phrases for this article.

Once we had all filed back in---neatly and in single file, I assure you---Lionnellais and Rythas welcomed the audience back with a jaunty tune with the refrain “Under Censure”. This reporter must confess that the untimely fire combined with the lyrics that speak of restraints fraying under pressure had her wondering a great many things. Still, just as the show went on, so, too, must this article. 

T’ahlia returned to the stage with an acoustic guitar, and was joined by Hesper of Trinity. The pair sang a soulful duet about an “army of two” that would stand against all odds and defy the world. Your faithful reporter was very much lost in her own thoughts and suppositions, but was briefly brought back to attention by the songstress Sif, who joined T’ahlia for the next piece. This one spoke of T’ahlia’s conflicted feelings of yearning and betrayal directed at her mother, a woman of the Shroud who did her best for the young Miqo’te and yet left her wanting. The duo of Sif and T’ahlia singing call-and-response that melded into soulful, wistful harmonies drew the audience in and included us in such tender, bittersweet recollections.

As their last chords were still lingering like dark tea on the sides of the tongue, we were all drawn to our feet by an upbeat, glittering tune about calling on shinobi when in need! True to the legacy of those infamous assassins, the stage effects were superb; one might even believe that said shinobi were hiding in plain sight, deploying mudra and shadow-smoke to great effect amongst the waving glow wands of the enthused crowd. This reporter could not help but muse over how some of the other performers might, indeed, be inspired to hire a shinobi for their current troubles that simmered along the floorboards along with the occasional puff of singed scenery.

T’ahlia and Dane Escherra brought us all back to those melancholy undercurrents, with the latter offering soulful vocals recounting being a wartime prostitute. They fight like men, die like boys, and the women are expected to pretend it doesn’t affect them, offer themselves up as trophies. It was a simple yet poignant view into a world that many would rather pretend does not exist; this reporter, for one, was more interested in the stories of these women than the wars that raged around them.

Oh, dear readers, how I do eat up the ilms of column space on this one! The final two acts followed the evening’s emotional hills and vales, leaving us on a hill of humor. Zeraia Reynard crooned and Savo clawed tunes about male Seekers of the Sun, and...well, the lyrics are not entirely fit for print, but in the interest of public health (and allowing for poetic embellishment), this reporter must firmly suggest that all those who have enjoyed sexual relations with male Seekers of the Sun be tested for diseases at your local chirurgeon. E’rin Rae’s finale piece, in which she joined the dogpile (catpile) upon male Seekers, was a humorous lament about how they all seem to prefer the same sex, and how she has resigned herself to this fact. 

Though this sennight’s issue has been dedicated to my personal review of this revue, I must let you all in on a little secret; the fire that occurred backstage is quite suspicious, and this reporter will be writing another article or two as she investigates it. In the next sennight’s issue, please look forward to a collection of thoughts, statements, and observations by those that attended the show. In the meantime, I wish you all health and happiness, and would highly recommend the Palazzo Aldenard for its fine facility and superb entertainers.

Song and Scandal,

Idanwyn Lluanswys

Harbor Herald Food and Lifestyle Columnist

((tagging @palazzoaldenard​ , @savothesewercat​ , @rythasbrenelle​ , @fheylahaken​ , @whitherwanderer​ ! Please tag others, I am sleepy and forgetful. Thank you for the excellent show, and please stay tuned as Idanwyn does her best to investigate! I also enjoy going to concerts, restaurants, and other such fun social events to write articles, so message me here or on discord at #esper3592 if you’ve got something fun coming up!))

[fheylahaken]

Guilty or Innocent: Fheyla Haken

Asked someone to marry you?

"No, I've never married anyone I particularly liked."

Kissed one of your friends?

"I kissed almost all of them."

Danced on a table in a bar / tavern?

"Sure, and under."

Ever told a lie?

"I'm lying now." *Raises a snowy white eyebrow.*

Had feelings for someone you can’t have?

"I don't really prescribe to the word can't. But I got all sloppy-biscuited over a couple gay males, if that's what you mean."

Ever kissed someone of the same sex?

"If you mean on the lips, then yes, mostly. Males is all scritchy around their lips."

Kissed a picture?

"They don't let me in the Art Museum no more."

Slept until 5pm?

"You mean 5 am? I'm nocturnal. Either way, yes."

Worked at a fast food chain / restaurant?

"Yes, it was fun. When the food was ready I got to say, 'Think fast!' and throw the food at their faces."

Stolen something?

"Who are you my parole officer?"

Been fired from a job?

"Yes, remember that fast food restaurant question?"

Done something you regret?

*Sighs* "I gave someone their socks back once . . . "

Laughed until something you were drinking came out of your nose?

"It came out of all sorts of places."

Caught a snowflake on your tongue?

"I'd rather be ripped apart by a pack of wolves than admit to that. I mean . . . shit."

Sat on a rooftop?

"Hello? Cat."

Kissed someone you shouldn’t have?

"I don't really prescribe to the word shouldn't. But sometimes they're asleep."

Sang in the shower?

". . . . . . I don't shower."

Been pushed into a body of water with all your clothes on?

*Pouts* "Yes. When I didn't drown they pronounced me a witch."

Shaved your head?

"Twelve no, that would jeopardize my ringworm."

Made a boyfriend / girlfriend cry?

"I've made 'em beg, does that count? There were tears."

Shot a gun?

"I love those. They need larger magazines."

Still loved someone you shouldn’t?

"You mean like my mother? Yeah, I suppose a part of me loved her despite it all."

Have / had a tattoo?

*Points at her limbs* "Aye, these woad arts all got their own special meanings to my clan."

Liked someone, but will never tell who?

"I don't understand the question. Wait, yes I do. Okay yeah there was this pike who . . . I mean . . . no."

Been too honest?

"I'm always exactly the right amount of honest."

Ruined a surprise?

*Laughs and nods, brimming with pride.*

Been told that you’re beautiful by someone who totally meant what they said?

"I dunno what they was thinking, but they was accurate."

Stalked someone?

"All the time. I got needs."

Thought about murder?

*Softly* "Uh huh." *Leans slightly closer to interviewer.*

How about mass murder?

"Oh yeah. Every time I hear Starlight carolers."

Cheated on someone?

"Only from their perspective."

Gotten so angry that you cried?

"Sometimes there's this red dot . . . but I can never . . . little bastard keeps getting . . ." *Takes deep breaths to calm down.*

Tried to stay away from someone for their own good?

"Yes . . . . once."

Thoughts about suicide?

"Yeah, but then I learned something really super critically important about life."

Had a girlfriend / boyfriend?

"You mean one of those folk with both parts? I met a handful of them loitering near the Sands, but I ain't dated one. Seems like a time saver."

Gotten totally drunk during a holiday?

"Ain't missed one, yet."

Tagged by:  @rythasbrenelle​

Tagging:  @hanidahlia​, @talysings​, @erahsae-ffxiv​ and You! Yes, you.

[vylette-takeda]

Surrendering to the Music

Recently, in a conversation with Fheyla, the other commented something along the lines that ‘People say that artists need to suffer for their art, but that’s not true..they just have to feel something. That doesn’t have to be sad, it can be happiness too.’

The words stuck with Vylette because something more true had never been said. As chaotic and uncouth as Fheyla could be, she is in possession of tremendous wisdom at times.

As she brought out her harp to play, Vylette focused on her life and of her recent joys. She thought of her house in the mists, she thought about performing, she thought about her friends, and of course most of all, she thought about her mate Mai. The Raen came into her life in a single random instant, but she would transform it forever.

The Miqo’te could still perform the sad songs and the dirges of woe of course, but these days she found herself drawn to them less and less. Lately she wanted nothing more than to have her art driven by the happiness and love in her heart. She closed her eyes and played on and into the night.

*Tagging @mai-takeda and @fheylahaken for mentions in the narrative. **Pictures taken by the fabulous @egrine!

[o-hteco]

[savothesewercat]

Sewercats!

@fheylahaken and her cousin Savo

[rythasbrenelle]

Prompt #4 - Clinch

(Note: The adorable arsonist mentioned below can be found at @fheylahaken.) Rythas, age 24; Belmion, age 17 The sound of hammering filled Rythas’ yard for the second time in as many days. It drew more than a couple glances; his neighbors weren’t so gracious that they’d forgotten the previous night. As it turned out, a woman stealing your mailboxes and lawn decorations to build a towering effigy in someone else’s yard was quite memorable.

Perhaps not as memorable as the explosion that had followed. But memorable nonetheless. “Fucking Fheyla,” Rythas grumbled, bringing the hammer down to drive another nail into the plank. The explosion his self-proclaimed best friend — oh gods, he could practically hear her say it, the enthusiasm in her voice a sharp counterpoint to the irritation that tinged his own — had caused had turned the yard into a crater, the mounted deck nearby into a smoldering wreckage, and the front of the house into a jagged maw that was great for letting the bugs and dry summer air in and not a whole lot else. He’d already had the crater filled with soil, and he was waiting on help with the front of the house. There wasn’t much he could do to repair the stone, at least not in a way that would make the house look anything like it once had. He’d leave it to professionals. The deck though. That was something he could do. So he focused on the solid thud of metal striking wood, the rhythmic tap-tap-tap of hammering a nail into place. Though loud, it was soothing in its own way. He lost himself to repetition, let his mind wander while he worked. “Hey, Bel?” Arlianne’s voice was soft and unsure in the dark, but he heard it clearly all the same. It dragged him from the edge of sleep, returned him to the cave they called their own. “What?” Belmion grunted as he rolled over to face her. Though her raven hair blended into the darkness well, her pale skin was as evident as the moon hanging in the sky, and her ruby eyes had the faintest glow to them. Ordinarily, they were like little pinpricks of distant torchlight. This close, they were bonfires, bright and dancing. “Have you ever had a house?” she asked. “We used to have a rundown manor for a hideout, though it only lasted for about two moons. That count?” “Not really, no.” “Ah. Then no.” “That’s kind of a shame, isn’t it?” Arlianne mused, as much to herself as him. “You’ve never had a place of your own.” “Eventually, maybe I will,” Belmion said. He let his head sink back into the pillow, but he remained facing her. “You’ve been listening to Troifont. You really think a Green’s gonna sell any of us a chateau?” she asked, snickering. “Maybe. Worst case, I’ll build one,” he grumbled. Sleep was already claiming him again, but he scooted closer before it grabbed him entirely, letting the heat that radiated from Arlianne warm him. He felt her shift, sitting up, but his eyes had already drifted shut. They felt impossibly heavy. “Would you really?” “Why wouldn’t I?” Rythas ran a hand through his hair, combing out a tangle in his tresses. When his hand came away, his skin and bandages alike were soaked in sweat. He wrinkled his nose and wiped them dry on one leg of his trousers while he examined his handiwork. The deck wasn’t better than ever. In truth, it looked about the same as it did before, right down to the plants hanging from the railing. But he had to admit it was an improvement from the smoldering heap on the lawn that had been in its place not too long ago. “It’s a far cry from a chateau. But it’s something. Well done, Brenelle,” he told himself. His eyes wandered away from the deck to examine the yawning portal that was the front of his house, and his mood immediately dropped. “Yep. Not even close to a chateau.” (Prompt #3: Muster) (Prompt #5: Matter of Fact)

[kisskissrommie]

@rheyatayuun got @savothesewercat and @fheylahaken to perform a love song for her for Valentiones!

[savokesslivang]

Sewercats Beware!

[syerraffxiv]

After being summoned to the Wanderer’s Elysium and subjected to a strange double-interview, Gemma is now officially a bookkeeper for the Keeper’s Kiss.

Twelve save her.

( @shroudwayman, @fheylahaken )

[cksimpodia]

Checking-in with the trailer park crew, and it seems Romeo’s got himself a Cowplant... friend?  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[ffxivakyi]

Twenty Fifth Sun of the Fourth Astral Moon

[Varik’s Aether being shredded]

Alright Book, much to say so get ready. The meeting Zasha an I went to was a lot of words an no action. The other would draw out everything he needed to say, like he was trying to tech Zasha how to do what she has been doing for ages. Zasha an I looked at each other, especially when this Male started telling us that as women we would not understand the finer nuances of caring for an inn. We got home early… Book. People need to understand, the worst thing you can do is plan to harm a monster. While Zasha herself is not a monster the powers within her of separate mind are. They should have had this meeting elsewhere, because as soon as the monster learned of what was going on, it had want to destroy Varik.

It was swift wrath, and Varik is only alive because Zasha was able to push it back. I remember seeing him suspended his aether being shredded and pulled away from him. His memories seem to be gone, at least gone to the point to when I first met him, before he had meet his abusive wife in the gang. I think this is good for him, he can start over, finally be whomever he wants without the past holding him back. There is catch Book, he is still  in love with Zasha. I do not know what to do, I will see if time will make things better. I will do as I promised and try to help them be mates. Her curse will end with his death or hers. I have seen the curse, and I now believe it is there, I did not understand before. I had thought she was talking about the monster, now I see the mark, and saw the souls. Book, her blood owes Thal a great debt. If I tell him that his love is foolish because she is cursed, will that land us back were we just were? The Soul does not forget, and he will fight for her. For now things need to settle. Their emotions are far to fresh and raw, I have the note he had written. I do not know the city kind’s rituals but I have seen a ring on a pillow in a bonding ritual.   

I went to the Lavender clinic… and found two of the patents were missing. I tracked them, it was not to hard, seeing Ashia has wounds on her feet. I found their den, and was able to tend to their bandages. I met their matron Ana, and also ran into Savo and Fheyla there in the den. I know I can not stop them from leaving, or even be mad about it. They are of a clan, and the clan should come first. The clan there is much different than the one of my blood, generous, and accepting of Sain. I have seen her wings, I know she is not pure, that her blood is blackened with void.   I did what I remember from my childhood, though rare such non-violent meetings did happen. I think I said the right things, even as Savo suggested I join the clan there. I know it would be hard to understand, a runt would never turn down such an idea. I currently enjoy my freedom, I do not need to overly think about the well of a clan. I worry about my Moon, and my papa, but beyond that I have no responsibilities to anyone.

[idanwyn-et-al]

Winter Themes at The Lotus Flame: A Harbor Herald Exclusive!

Good evening to all of you, lovely readers! Your faithful reporter here taking a break from her usual Captain’s duties aboard the Nixie to enjoy one of the many Starlight concerts the entertainers of the realm have to offer. This evening, I had the pleasure of attending my first (but their second) Lotus Flame Annual Starlight Concert! Tucked away in the Lavender Beds, the stage was lavishly decorated with all the finest glitter and gold one might expect around this time of year. Though yours truly arrived a bit late, she still managed to snag a seat right up near the action; a bonny thing, too, as the musical talent on display was quite impressive!

Vit’oro Tyanu and  Seraphina Cantatrix played a few starlight classics on harp and flute, bringing some much-needed peace to this hectic time of year. These classics were followed by a very haunting, familiar tune as a harp duet; it brought more than one tear to my eye, I must confess. Astrid Adonalsium joined the duo to play about a little drummer lad and how all this trio seems to want for Starlight is...this audience! They closed out their set with a fearsome tribute to a one-winged primal of some sort, though your dear reporter confesses, Herald readers, that she has only heard of said primal in legends.

The next performer was one Clayde Lockheart, who started off with a flowing, expertly-fingered harp rendition of a song inquiring where, indeed, is Starlight. The answer seems to be in this concert hall, right now, by the reactions from the crowd! This song was a promise of skill that continued to deliver for the rest of Clayde’s set; the music of their harp was easy on the ear and well-played. There was one interesting comment by the performer reminding the men in the crowd from refraining from slipping anything into the women’s drinks, which...this reporter will take in the spirit it was intended instead of launching a full-scale investigation into this performer’s personal life.

Lada Gala followed Clayde’s closing number, and cut quite the figure on stage, garbed in whites and silvers with brilliant wing stage effects. Featuring her skill on the harp, she began with a lyrical rendition of Greensleeves, which just so happens to be one of this reporter’s very favorites. The few numbers that followed can only be described in the purple prose yours truly tends to favor from time to time; a journey through the gentle quiet of new-fallen snow in a distant forest, the smell of woodsmoke rising over the scent of ice and pine, as one returns to a home they didn’t realize they missed until hearing the silver notes fall from the harp upon the wind. Snapped back to the show from her music-and-booze soaked reverie, this reporter indulged in a bit of dancing to one of Lady Gala’s originals, “Starlight Romance”, widely available as an orchestrion roll! The Lady closed down her set with a somber reminder of the cold loneliness many feel during this season.

Taking the stage to drive those cold winter blues away entirely, the final act of the evening was none other than Savo Kesslivang, playing her, shall we say, colorful Starlight lineup. Anyone who has been reading this paper for any amount of time is aware that this reporter is a devoted fan of the Noise from the North Shroud, so I shall spare you my usual glowing review and say only that I enjoyed myself as I always do when Savo performs.

In closing, I highly recommend the talented performers, gorgeously-appointed and thoughtfully-stocked venue, and overall atmosphere of The Lotus Flame. If one is so inclined, one may visit their nightclub every Saturday night.

Songs and Snowfall, Idanwyn Lluanswys Harbor Herald Food and Lifestyle Columnist

((The Lotus Flame’s weekly nightclub is open Saturday evenings from 8:30 to 11:30 PM, EST. The venue is located on the Balmung server, Lavender Beds, Ward 14, plot 58!))

[zarah-ffxiv]

1: Foster - FFXIV Write 2021

Zarah stood in the kitchen wearing an apron and wondering if falling in love had in fact been a sentence for her imminent domestication. Her lip curled upward in a sneer at the notion while she flipped through pages of an old handwritten cookbook she had kept as a youngster. The book did not have a single stain anywhere on it and would serve as additional evidence that Zarah was indeed an underachiever when it came to culinary matters.

Her dismal mood was a byproduct of an exceptionally long recovery period that had been induced by a cursed amulet, a series of magical mishaps and a promise to Kainen to abstain from her beloved wine until fully healed. Learning to cook a dish or two with her time off seemed to be the least she could do now that Kainen was working daily in Ishgard as a Temple Knight. “Maybe something sweet...just like him” she mumbled to herself and quickly followed with an embarrassed groan. “That sounded even dumber out loud” She continued to grumble as her eyes settled on a bottle of dark Limsan rum left on the counter from friends recent bonding celebration.

Rum. Glorious rum. It wasn’t wine, but it was calling to her in sweet whispers of molasses and caramel.

The edges of her mouth had began to curl upwards with the beginnings of blissful inspiration when brightly colored flyer was unexpectedly slipped beneath the door of their small seaside cottage. Zarah slowly shuffled her way to the door, retrieved the event flyer, and began to read out loud while dragging herself back to the kitchen. “The Great Gridanian Speedo Gala...with Savo and Fheyla...ummm...” After a long pause of utter confusion, her jade green eyes narrowed on the tiny print strategically and unfortunately placed on the rear of an unknown fellow donning a speedo “Contemplate the narwhal...oh...oh my.” Her brows slowly raise in amusement while sporting a cheshire grin and she reaches for the bottle of rum. With advertisement raised in one hand and the bottle of rum clenched in the other “I have contemplated! And...Bananas Foster it is!” She declares triumphantly to the empty kitchen with an untamed fire already lit in her eyes.

[starforger-moved]

Fheyla made Maha her very own specialty drink! It’s apple whiskey, a shot of cinnamon liquor, and sparkling water, with a lit fuse as a garnish. It’s called a Gas Bomb!

x