#gelmorran

[thedarknesssings]

The Spider.

[the-wardens-torch]

FFXIVwrite2024: Halcyon

Prompt #6, Entry #4 Masterpost so far

((This thing fought me SO HARD. However, the prompt was to spot-on to ignore considering Fal's father's last name, and the fact that I wrote about names for my last prompt as well. This bit comes directly after this bit, by the way. Which I wrote... too many years ago.))

Uther was already talking about arcanima and what sorts of things his son could do with it, oblivious to the fact that he wasn't listening.

Falerin had managed to still the shaking in his hands, although a pair of sharp blue eyes still seemed to peer at him from the darkened corners of the room. It had been months since he'd had the dream about those eyes, and now, thanks to what his father had just said, he could put them to a person. His grandmother. The Duskwight witch, ever preoccupied with herbs and charms and fortune-telling.

"What was her name?" he asked.

"Didn't you hear me before? I brought you here to show you the possibilities of someone with a unique talent like… yours, not reminisce for what never was and never will be."

When he had said the word "yours," Uther's gaze had lingered on the tiny red glow emanating from just behind Fal's head where Ruby was hiding. Unfortunately the soft reflection of her light against a backdrop of dark hair made her easy to spot in Uther's dimly lit house. Her wings quivered softly against the nape of his neck. She had always had a tendency to hide herself from prying eyes, but that tendency seemed especially prominent around Uther. Fal casually moved a bit of his hair over his shoulder to block her.

"Look. The way I see it, you have a lot to answer for here… I haven't even touched on the fact that you had a kid with a married woman and left him to rot halfway across the world."

Uther sighed. "Her name was Laragenie Alcyone. Its a name that appears nowhere in the annals of Gelmorra, or in the Ul'Dahn citizen's registry. From all I can tell, its just a name for a fish-eating bird. Utterly worthless."

He said it with the callous contempt of a spoiled child given an inadequate birthday gift, even down to the way he crossed his arms after he was done speaking. But the distant look on his face betrayed his real sentiment.

"Honestly, I don't understand why the sudden preoccupation. Of all the things we could be talking about right now, you choose this nonsense?"

Falerin leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, studying his father's face carefully to gauge his reaction to what he was going to say next.

"Its because I saw her in a dream."

Uther's eyes widened for a split second as he made a nasal sound somewhere between a scoff and a chuckle. Fal wouldn't have even had to be looking directly at him to see that the revelation had caught him off-guard.

"Ah. That would be just like her to still be spreading nonsense even after her own death. She fancied herself an oneiromancer… One who can read the future through dreams. Junk science and parlor tricks, all of it."

Falerin froze. That certainly wasn't the answer he was expecting. Uther picked up the nearest book and shufffled the pages.

"…And did I not tell you that you inherited her eyes? They're practically a mirror image of hers. It's... strange. Your mind was probably reconstructing what you saw when you last saw yourself in a mirror. Not everything has to be a melodrama."

"I see." Falerin mumbled. His father's use of the word "mirror" sent a sort of hollow chill through Falerin's body as he recalled the unfamiliar female voice that had spoken to him in that dream.

…We see one another from opposite sides of a mirror of blood…

Falerin clasped his hands in front of his mouth and resting his elbows on the table to disguise the renewed shaking in his hands.

((Also, kingfisher birds are in the family Alcedinidae, a name that shares the same mythological root as "Halycon," and here's a picture of my personal favorite species because I just love birds so much you guys.))

Photo by whistling wings photography.

[ofdarklands]

moon & leaf - 11

"don't duskwights live underground" well sometimes they go out and they need the signage. they are as confused up here as you would be in a gelmorran cave*

[placesyoucallhome]

And that life itself could not aspire To have someone be so admired I threw creation to my kin With a silence broken by a whispered wind

All of this can be broken All of this can be broken Hold your devil by his spoke and spin him to the ground

[yloiseconeillants]

yloise's parents left the biggest clownshoes to fill

[wyrmwinds]

I finally received my friends’ Verified Dawntrail Seal of Approval so I will be playing it (in a bit, as I am currently busy) and they have noted that Arcadion has some especially good lore/gpose stuff for me specifically while not giving any details so my current guesses are:

One of Midgardsormr’s grandchildren is running the fighting ring

Once she regained enough of her power, Azdaja wants to wreck shop in the fighting ring

Tiamat got lost on the way to Meracydia and is having a brief stint in televised bloodsport

The duskwight lore was in Gamer Paradise all along

[crystal-verse]

Fun lore:

Since he's a god, K'pheli cannot be tempted by a primal.

Odin possesses the body of whoever landed the killing blow.

K'pheli is a Dark Knight and also a system.

To connect the dots: K'pheli kills Odin, Odin tries to possess him and instead gets added to the system, and K'pheli wields Zantetsuken as his Dark Knight weapon.

[iron-sparrow]

Was inspired today to make up my own tarot-inspired imagery and arcana, so here's the SPARROW AT REST.

Some lore for Yein and the origins of their moniker below. ⊹ ࣪ ˖

The "Sparrow at Rest" is derived from the Benevolent Iron Sparrow constellation named by the Que-Sae, a once well-respected clan of Gelmorran mediums and couriers. The Benevolent Iron Sparrow never migrates, choosing instead to endure all hardships in order to protect its home. It is associated with the dry autumn and the inward energies within a person's core.

The symbol of the "Sparrow at Rest," when invoked by fortune tellers, can be a warning of hardships to come or a sign of self-neglect, leading to the weakening of one's spiritual foundations. Those who draw this image are encouraged to reevaluate their current situation and learn how to better care for themselves, their home, or their loved ones.

[lilbittymonster]

OC Smash or Pass: Vaisha Soveniss

You already know how this works. "Other" option is for some sort of incompatibility or you'd just rather be friends or study them under a microscope or some secret fourth thing

Yoinking an open tag from @hazelkjt

Basics:

Height: 6'11"/~209cm

Age: 34

Gender: wizard

Pronouns: They/He

Sexuality: Grey asexual with heavy masculine preference

Pros:

Herbalist and apothecary with a broad working knowledge of plants for both medicinal and arcane uses

Well versed in basic survival skills

Enjoys a good book and loves taking recommendations

Very nice voice. Very. Nice.

Will not mind one bit if you decide to infodump to him

Cons:

Heavily prejudiced against Gridanians, especially conjurers

Has no limits they will not surpass in pursuit of knowledge, particularly occultist powers

Frustratingly private about themself

They don't shy away from violence as a solution

Details:

Grew up in part of a Gelmorran settlement that was later taken under the protection of the Redbelly Wasps.

They're a Hearer, but due to their fire aspected aether and existing while Duskwight, they've been thoroughly rejected by the conjurer's guild numerous times.

They leave the Shroud to continue their self-taught thaumaturgy skills and become a black mage. WoL!Vaisha continues on to Limsa and eventually becomes a summoner. They prefer magic that does not rely on an external source, as learning magic is something that cannot be taken away from them at any point.

They will use any form of persuasion in conversation, from genial manners to underhanded blackmail, all with the same serene smile in pursuit of their goals.

WoL!Vaisha's Echo power is to control the emotions of the people around them, for good or for ill. They cannot create new emotions, only suppress or amplify.

They enjoy the finer things in life. They relish the notoriety that being the WoL/a powerful mage gives them, and will often dress in fine linens and silks and drape themself in jewellery to supplement their natural arcane ability.

While travelling is not off the table entirely, they do prefer to stay in one place for extended periods of time.

They prefer to be nocturnal, so early risers will not see them very much.

They don't tend to put much effort into maintaining connections much farther than how useful one is to them, so creating an actual bond is quite difficult and requires a lot of patience and even more luck. So far there has been one exception.

Sexually dominant and will adapt to whatever their partner wants but mostly uses sex as a tool to further their own ends.

[karygurl]

FFXIVWrite #6: Halcyon

The funny thing with amnesia is, the victim literally does not know what they're missing.

Cassandra's memories only went back to about a year before she joined the Scions, when she'd awoken startled and disoriented behind a locked door in a Gelmorran ruin. In addition to her own panic, she'd given the archaeologists who were investigating there quite a fright.

Once she'd found her footing, she'd searched wherever she could think of for fragments of anything familiar, to no avail. The elementals were little assistance despite her tutelage in conjury, their abstract understanding of the world amounting to little beyond their almost affectionate term of endearment of her that felt something like, "daughter of far earth."

It was many years and many disappointments later that she found a lead, or rather, Thancred did. He'd discovered that a simple melody that she'd often absentmindedly hum under her breath was actually a Bozjan lullaby. Though she wasn't able to follow the lead for some time, once she'd concluded her business on the First, she'd taken only a brief respite before heading to the war torn country to not only assist the resistance, but try and discover her roots.

Unfortunately, as Headmaster Montichaigne taught her much later, once memories had been seared with aether, they were locked away until their owner returned to the aetherial sea. Though she didn't consciously know the incident that led to her amnesia, the explanation felt right, that the memories she wished with all her heart to recall were still there somewhere, out of reach.

Memories of shockingly brilliant blue bricks lining the roads, dusty and warm in the midday sun. Trees with thick bark that grew in small discs, appearing almost as if to be scales. The distinctive clink of metallic carving tools striking stone. The echo inside buildings with ceilings of soaring domes overhead. The scrape of caravan wheels and plumes of dust billowing from swathes of cloth.

An older brother who always snuck her a sticky sweet, her favorite. Parents who toiled hard and loved their children just as hard.

Halcyon days, lost to her forever. But then, by the grace of Hydaelyn (or perhaps Azem?), there were just as many joyous memories to be had here in her present, too.

[thedarknesssings]

Edarien Secariot.

[theblackestnight-ffxiv]

[ffxivwrite2024] prompt 16: third-rate

“Seven hells, I’ve had it!” D’zinhla threw up her hands, scowling daggers at the paperwork on her desk.

From behind her, she registered Airraim’s curiosity-tinged concern. “What’s wrong, love?” she asked, and after the sound of a few footsteps, a hand rested on her shoulder.

D’zinhla was immediately contrite–but still very frustrated. “I didn’t mean to disturb you, Airraim,” she said in a softer tone. “It’s just… Well, this folio!” She wrinkled her nose as she gestured at the offending documents. “It was so promising! There’s some very old works in here! Padjali and Gelmorran, besides Gridanian, things I’ve never found before! But because it wasn’t stored right, and especially because it wasn’t printed on the right materials, I could teach a class in incorrect archival procedures from just what’s wrong with this singular folio!”

“Mmm,” and she felt Airraim gently squeeze her shoulder. “That’s a deep disappointment.”

“Gods, is it ever. The only pieces that haven’t had parts lost to degradation are pieces I already have well in evidence in other, much better preserved folios.” She couldn’t help the scorn in her voice. “Meanwhile, the pieces new to me? I can tell, even as old as it is, that the paper was hardly worth the pulp it was made from. Too thin in some places, too thick in others, the thin places have worn away entirely and left me with missing sections.” She sighed, shaking her head. “It was kept well, there’s hardly any book-rot, the spine is cracked but that’s manageable, but when the very paper is fallen apart, that hardly helps preserve the information within!”

“Perhaps it was all the paper they had available?” Airraim ventured.

“Perhaps,” she said, biting her lip. “But that means whoever took possession of it later should have seen to it that copies were made, if not a restoration. Though there’s not a whole lot that can be done to restore what was already of poor quality to begin with.”

Her partner kept her hand on her shoulder, brushing back and forth with her thumb. “Though it could mean that copies are out there that were not kept with this piece.”

She flicked an ear. “True enough,” she conceded. “But they haven’t been found by me, or anyone I know of, so they might as well not exist until they are found. Still, I suppose that might have been done, make copies and keep the original as intact as it was… I could only hope that such copies, if they exist, were made before all this damage.”

“But for now, it doesn’t get you the new material you wanted.”

“Well,” and she hummed, considering the documents. “It does get me evidence of these songs, incomplete though they are. And they are new to me, even if they could have been whole and entire, and are instead piecemeal. Still,” she sighed, and lifted a hand to pat Airraim’s. “Thank you for hearing me out, love. I know the minutiae of document preservation hardly interests you.”

“But it interests you, and therefore, I care to hear about it.” Airraim bent and pressed a kiss to the top of D’zinhla’s head. “You heard me out about my latest batch of fragrance failing miserably.”

“But that I can follow better, it’s-” She stopped herself with a wry smile, twisting in her chair to look up at her partner. “Sorry, you’re right, thank you.”

Airraim smiled, and it filled her with a flood of warmth. “Of course,” she said. “Now- what do you need to go on from here?”

D’zinhla knew she was being shepherded away from her indignation and onward into something more actionable, but she could bite back the ridiculous obstinate urge to resist the attempt. “Well, now I need to start transcribing what I can, before this terrible paper degrades even further. So I’ll need my inks-” 

Her partner chuckled. “I’ll leave you to it then. But I think I will take this time to go put some more tea on.”

“A lovely idea, but no rush for me, I’ll need to keep it off the desk while I’m working.” She was already preparing her workspace, thinking mindfully of what needed to go where, what hazards needed to be mitigated, what steps would need to be taken. She heard another chuckle, and Airraim’s steps away, but it faded into background as she focused on the work in front of her. She could indeed salvage something of worth out of this, even if it wasn’t the prize she had hoped it to be!

[voidsentprinces]

Heavensward sent us into the sky, Stormblood into select seas and lakes, Shadowbringers to the depths of the ocean and highest peak, Endwalker to space and the ends of the universe. So after Dawntrail I want a Gelmorran Duskwight expansion that sends us deep underground.

[placesyoucallhome]

They all laughed as he turned around slow They said you ain't welcome 'round here anymore You just might as well go He wiped the blood from his face as he slowly came to his knees He said, I'll be back when you least expect it And hell's coming with me Hell's coming with me

[gatheredfates]

Tonberry - Tell a story of a time you were blinded by rancor! Is it still ongoing, did you act upon it, does it compel your actions?

Hi, my name is Sea, and I have a lot of thoughts about how utterly fucked up Ishgard is as a nation. I'm putting it under a readmore because there's a lot of dark topics involved (and I ranted a bit).

I've explored bits of it here, here and here, mostly through Elandervier's perspective, but when you actually look at the control enacted by the Holy See, perpetrated by members of the High Houses, it's honestly horrific. Here is a nation overseen by powerful factions ruled by men, in which those beneath them are granted power and prestige based on their politics, money and gender. If you are not rich, cunning or cruel, you will be fed straight into that war machine. Before the Warrior of Light, it didn't matter how 'good' you were or how hard you tried. Aymeric was a good man and still got a knife in his belly because there were people in Ishgard desperate to hang onto a world where a few powerful men held complete control. They wanted to keep doing whatever they wanted to populace so brainwashed by propaganda they didn't have time to see that the call coming from inside the house.

People see Garlemald as being the 'evil' militant faction and, while that is true, I think it comes at the cost of overlooking just how similar Ishgard was towards the dragons. In my opinion, there is so much environmental storytelling indicating young peasants were militarised and drafted into war whether they liked it or not — especially if they were hyur — and high society was strictly regulated to keep the status quo. Garlemald may have been upfront about its fascism but Ishgard has a lot of demons they still need to exorcise.

Both Elandervier and Alaice are products of that machine, and both deal with that in different ways. El is nothing if not rancor. She is the daughter of a middle-class house desperately trying to rid themselves of their Gelmorran roots, and her entire childhood was a lesson in abuse from a mother too frightened to break the machine if feeding her daughter to it make her more comfortable. She had to smile to lordling boys cruel to her because they were lordlings — because going against them was to be branded a heretic at best and a trip to the Brume at worst. At least those outside of Ishgard did not risk the Temple Knights enacting their 'justice' late at night because they were bored or looking for a bit of sport.

Her entire early life was a palatable pantomime. Smile like this, walk like that; why are you inspiring their ire, why are you cracking the porcelain? The well isn't fetid. The tart is sweet because there is sugar, just ignore the poison.

Because El wasn't originally from Ishgard she knew she'd never fit in, and the powers that be were happy to remind her if she thought to put a toe out of line. They called her strange and heckled her; they made fun of her and went out of her way to give her attention because they knew the result would be negative, even if their initial attentiveness was 'kind'. They knew they held all the power to rip what little comforts she had because they had the prestige and she had none, and they spared no effort to put her in place.

The difference is, El didn't want the prestige. She wanted to break the wheel. When they tried to take everything from her, she turned it on them and fled. Highborn fathers lost their pedigree sons born from pretty women offered to the machine and, though she knew others would take their place, she at least got hers.

The worst part was, even when she had established herself in Dravania, she still had people come after her. Sometimes they were mercenaries paid for by the high houses, sometimes they were the lords themselves... and sometimes they were women, children and peasants who equally left the city but had nowhere else to go. They learned of a witch in the northern bogs who practiced dark magic and figured their odds were better than the city that claimed to care and protect them. She'd have young girls fall at her door with wild eyes and swollen bellies because going back would be to face objectification and heresy for crimes committed onto them — not by them. The outrage was palatable, she wanted nothing than to rend them from the inside out, but she was one woman against an oligarchy.

It's an anger that is difficult for to put into words and cannot be levelled against a single person, even if she detests most highborn. El has the recognition that even those higher than her were at the mercy of those higher still, and she did not gain any luxuries by defecting. Yet it still influences her every action. She's compelled to violence and manipulation because they conditioned her to savour it. She makes herself malignant and unknowable because she's too traumatised to know who she really is. She might have escaped the machine but its teeth still mangled her limbs. It's hard to live with.

[yloiseconeillants]

C H A R A C T E R P R O F I L E

(tagged by @elf-simp, and I am in the process of making more for my other characters-)

B A S I C S

Name: Yloise Elilswys Coneillants

Nicknames: She doesn't like them but has heard "Yl" (Eel) and "Lou" a couple of times at least.

Age: 34 (as of DT, presumably)

Nameday: 22nd Sun of the 2nd Umbral Moon

Race: Duskwight Elezen (Gelmorran)

Gender: Clown daughter

Orientation: Bisexual (Disaster)

Profession: Former Governess (fired), Former Customs Assessor (Promoted Laterally), Warrior of Light (Retired???), Practicing Chirurgeon and Speculative Botanist.

P H Y S I C A L     A S P E C T S

Hair: Dark, dark blue and some streaks of slightly lighter blue throughout. It's naturally a bit greyer, but she dyes it fairly regularly. It grows fast, and she has a tendency of cutting it erratically whenever something dramatic happens to her.

Eyes: Grey, though her left eye retains light poisoning damage since SHB. She's near-sighted and sensitive to light, so she wears tinted glasses pretty perpetually (in the soap opera, the lenses are red, but in blorboverse, she wears green lenses in the First since she didn't bring her own glasses along for the Calling - for the Wizard of Oz reference).

Skin: Also grey, acne-prone.

Tattoos/scars: She has scars from light poisoning cracks (they're sympathetic in blorboverse, since she wasn't there physically).

F A M I L Y

Parents: Julien Cibleroit, Gelmorran poet and highwayman who spent nearly two decades in Spirithold on false charges before escaping during the Calamity (there may or may not be voidsent involved in said escape) who is currently doing Crimes Too Heinous for the Redbelly Wasps in the Black Shroud, and Hersande Coneillants, a botanist originally from Gridania, who took an assignment in Halfstone to improve the crop yields in rocky soil conditions (she took the assignment in part to hide her pregnancy from her fellow guildmembers). Yloise has never met her father, and her mother died during Leviathan's attack on Halfstone after the Calamity.

Siblings: Vallerin Coneillants, aspiring magician who was on semi-permanent guard duty at Issom-Har to ward off graverobbers/adventurers. Yloise and Vallerin are twins.

Grandparents: ??? (she's been jokingly referring to the Centurio Yloise in Idyllshire as her grandmother but it's getting more affectionate every time)

In-laws and Other: Beatin was a childhood friend of her mother's and he and Yloise get on tremendously (two of them). Midgardsormr is NOT her dad.

Pets: An echevore followed Yloise out of Dohn Mheg and has haunted her steps since (its name is Elsie and it loves pixieberries and snuggling and biting).

S K I L L S

Abilities: Damage-forward scholar (she still has bane and miasma you can pry them out of my cold, dead hands thanks) who is Extremely Efficient at Spell of Boil Lungs. Healing, alchemy, carpentry.

Hobbies: She uses leftover alchemy ingredients to mix perfumes and collects tiny bottles to put them in - the issue is her labeling system is not always consistent so. Probably better to just leave her stuff alone. Is compulsively pocketing trinkets considered a hobby? She's doing that. She *loves* eating and will definitely seek out food carts in every city she ends up in. This is probably what's going to get her to the Dawntrail expansion, honestly.

T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: She's trying!!!! Very good at the whole Helping thing. Keeps calm in drastic situations. Hype generator for literally anyone if she believes in the cahoots potential.

Most Negative Trait: Commitment to the Bit (and, in fact, Acceleration of the Bit). Has a tendency to ghost people instead of addressing her Problems (working on it!!). Poor judgment of character. Will revert to destructive coping behaviors after everyone thought she had worked through it (sorry).

L I K E S

Colors: Wine red, grey-blues.

Smells: FOOD. The smell of fried foods has led her to places she shouldn't have gone. Florals, resins, smoke, in that order for perfumes.

Textures: GROOVES IN METAL. Silk robes.

Drinks: Tea, wine, fancy liquors, cheap liquors.

O T H E R    D E T A I L S

Smokes: Every night. She smokes out of a pipe that belonged to a former party member who has since died. It's a grounding ritual for her (preferably on a balcony).

Drinks: She used to drink pretty heavily when she lived in Limsa Lominsa, and she stopped drinking for a while (HW to Stormblood) but started up again during Shadowbringers.

Drugs: Yep! Both professional and recreational.

Mount Issuance: Not Allowed.

Been Arrested: Lost count of how many times she was arrested in Limsa Lominsa (mostly bar fights) but she's on a first name basis with most of the Yellowjackets at this point. (Mistress Thubyrgeim has Not Lost Count of how many times she's been arrested).