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thetwistedcryptid · 2 years ago

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Deinósavros - meet the members!

This is a comprehensive list of the current ocs that i have for this dorm specifically - may or may not be updated to add more, in the future. if/when i get more ideas. somewhat long post, so be warned. (p.s: these characters, as well as other ones that i've posted on this blog, are now open for interactions through the ask box!) - Mod Moss ____________________ Housewarden;

(made in picrew) [twst styled pic/spite of him in uniform soon to come]

“You can, you should, and if you’re brave enough to start, you will.”

School: Royal Sword Academy

[Deinósavros] [the dorm was founded on the ambition of the king of monsters]

Full Name: Kaiyō Rūrābīsuto

Nicknames: Kai-kai, King, and Hippie (by Taranis)

Grade/Class: Year 2 (Sophomore)/Class (No.2-A)

Birthday: August 22 (Leo)

Age: 18 yrs old

Height: 7’8” (233.68 cm)

Race: Beastman (Kaiju - aquatic dragon - subspecies)

Dominant Hand: Left

Homeland: Coral sea

Club: Swim club Leader

Best Subjects: Practical magic, conjuration

Worst Subject: Flying

Hobbies: Taekwondo, and welding/metalworking

Pet Peeves: dorm members not following rules/instructions, other dorm housewardens telling him how to run his dorm

Fears: wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?

Favorite Food: Sushi, and Spicy Udon

Least Favorite Food: anything veggie based

Talent: Glassblowing (making stained glass murals). its a sort of de-stresser activity for him.

Unique Magic: “Inferno” Incantation: “Don’t get heatstroke!” [The user can store and accumulate heat from any source - even other peoples fire/heat based magic attacks/um’s. They can utilize the energy for any purpose. They can unleash it all at once upon the point of release, in either many minor bursts of heat or one big wave of heat, to easily over exert opponents, melt surrounds, or boil/evaporate water sources dry. It makes the user scolding hot to the touch and the heated wave attacks are more blue then the typical red.]

Trivia: He’s loosely based on Godzilla. He gained the title of Housewarden in Deinósavros after only being in the school for two weeks during his first year. swiftly defeating the previous housewarden in just two attacks. He is royalty, only child. Honors student. He comes off as a quiet, strict, and composed person. but despite his usual standoffish nature, he will always lend a helping hand to those who are brave enough to ask him for it, and will always leap right in to protecting his dorm members, even to his own physical determent. is actually a very chill and understanding guy underneath the scary exterior and strict/traditional mindset. He has a tail growing out from his lower back that comes to a point, the tail weighs as much as a kangaroo tail is around 20kg, and is just as long as a kangaroo tail as well (43.5in/110cm). And has gills on the sides of his neck that aren’t very visible, when outside of water. The tail is black like his hair, but has crystal-esque protrusions/spikes of varying sides growing down the “spine” of the tail, from base to tip, that are the same color as his skin spots. Even has some going up his back/spine. These crystal-esque protrusions/spikes, along with his eyes, also appear to glow whenever he uses his unique magic or is in a dark place, they are also somewhat see through - like stained glass. But a lot more durable and sharp.

———

Character Summary: "The arrogance of men is thinking nature is in their control and not the other way around.“

[you’ll find out soon enough.. Just send enough interactions ;) ] ____________________ Vice Housewarden;

(the picture is a commission i payed a discord friend to draw for me a while ago) [twst styled pic/spite of him in uniform soon to come]

“The bar was set so low that it was practically a tripping hazard in hell. And yet here you are, limbo dancing with the devil.”

School: Royal Sword Academy

[Deinósavros] [the dorm was founded on the ambition of the king of monsters]

Full Name: Taranis Vervloet

Nicknames: Surge (prefers this), Tara, Tails, and Stripes (by Kaiyō)

Grade/Class: Year 2 (Sophomore)/Class (No.2-A)

Birthday: April 20 (Taurus)

Age: 18 yrs old

Height: 8’0” (243.84 cm)

Race: Beastman (Kaiju - dragon - subspecies)

Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous

Homeland: Sunset Savanna (mountains)

Club: Spelldrive

Best Subjects: Gym, Practical Magic.

Worst Subject: Animal Languages

Hobbies: Exercising, annoying/challenging Kaiyō, reading, star gazing

Pet Peeves: being 2nd or lower in anything, people who give up too soon or dont even try

Fears: [Ha! Trying to find out my secrets? As it! Get lost, runt.]

Favorite Food: Poffertjes, and anything meet based

Least Favorite Food: veggies >:(

Talent: Reading the stars/sky, predicting the weather/a weather event before it happens

Unique Magic: “Rollin’ Thunder” Incantation: “Shocking, isn’t it?” [Conjures a raging electric storm around the position of the caster. The user can control the properties of the storm, such as rain, lightning, and cloud density - to make the area darker. They are able to control the direction in which storm clouds go or absorb the rain or lightning to create their own storm clouds that can be fully controlled. can absorb any electric magic throw at him or electricity in the near vicinity to boost his own magics power level. Is more effectively used outside or open/big spaces.]

Trivia: He’s, loosely, based on king ghidorah - the king of monsters eternal enemy. Honors student. He is royalty, he has an older brother set for the throne and a younger sister. hes the middle child. He usually comes off as boisterous, cocky, and dedicated. is known to be rather suave and silver tongued when he tried to get what he wants - doesn't care for authority but follows it out of necessity/obligation. like Kaiyō he'd do anything for his dorm members. he often holds lessons for the newer dorm members, to teach them how to survive. ones that his dormmates eagerly attend and even show up early for on scheduled days/times, despite the.. brutal and non merciful methods he uses to teach. He can shake the ends of his spiked tails to make a maraca sound, like a rattlesnake can, when he's angry or trying to intimidate. He has a forked tongue like a snake and his four main canine teeth are more pronounced than normal, mainly the top two. Both tails weigh as much as a kangaroo tail is around 20kg, and are both just as long as a kangaroo tail as well (43.5in/110cm). He and Kaiyō have been rivals since childhood, and he is always training and challenging Kaiyō for the spot as housewarden. Hasn’t won so far, though. But is known to refuse to give up on what he wants, no matter how long it takes to obtain or what he has to do. he is able to sprout wings from his back if he concentrates his magic into that area of his body, its not too difficult for him as he's practiced it so much. he's quite cocky about being able to do it while no one else can. ———

Character Summary: “To the people who look at the stars and wish. To the stars who listen— and the dreams that are answered.”

[you’ll find out soon enough.. Just send enough interactions ;) ] ____________________ Normal Members;

(made in picrew) [twst styled pic/spite of him in uniform soon to come]

“Unlike you, I don't levy lives off the threads of fabrication.“

School: Royal Sword Academy

[Deinósavros] [the dorm was founded on the ambition of the king of monsters]

Full Name: Hikaru Seijū Tengoku

Nicknames: Hades (kinda prefers), Angel-face (by online 'fans'), Feathers (by Taranis), and Scar-face (by some nrc students)

Grade/Class: Year 1 (freshmen)/Class (No.1-B)

Birthday: ??? (??)

Age: 16 yrs old

Height: 6’8” (203.2 cm)

Race: Half Fae and Half (??) maybe harpy ??

Dominant Hand: Right

Homeland: Blair Valley

Club: Cooking (master chef)

Best Subjects: Flying, and Ancient Curses

Worst Subject: Alchemy

Hobbies: Cooking, Singing, and people watching from high places

Pet Peeves: people being physical with him (or others) without permission/consent, crowded places, sudden/rapid movements, and small/enclosed spaces

Fears: Fire.. (others wielding fire, people using fire magic nearby him, even things such as closed off fireplaces, firepits, and candles can make him panic - he has been except from alchemy classes for this reason)

Favorite Food: Kibidango (millet dumplings)

Least Favorite Food: Shellfish (he's allergic to it)

Talent: Fire magic (he despises that fact, though once he was ecstatic)

Unique Magic: “Wing into it” Incantation: “Be not afraid..” [The user has or is able to manifest wings that grow out of their back (upper back, mid back, lower back) and can use them for flight, the user being naturally gifted at anything aerial. They may also protect from rear attacks, the base joints being able to turn and thus letting them rotate the wings for full body protection, or detach and re-grow for quick getaways. They can grow multiple wings if they wish, always in pairs. Either two, four, or six. The fewer wings the faster they are as there is less weight to lug around, but the more wings the better their defense is - as the wings are able to be used as sort of biological pseudo shields or used for melee attacks. The feathers are unnaturally durable despite looking like and feeling like regular feathers..]

Trivia: He is of noble blood, being the adopted only child of a wealthy merchant. i suppose you could say hes inspired by mothra? ? He flinches/physically recoils whenever someone makes skin to skin contact with him (specifically with his scars), he doesn’t like his scars being touched by anyone else other than himself or people he’s close to/trusts. He's very insecure about his scars. He also has some internalized religious trauma due to his upbringing, and becomes anxious/unsettled by religious talk or imagery. The scars on his face/neck are also on different parts of his upper body as well (arms, back, & chest), his lower body being spared - they’re burn scars specifically. from an event in his childhood that he has persistent nightmares about each night. causing him to put off sleep for as long as he can by any means necessary. one of his classmates is magigram famous, and he accidently ended up in the background of a selfie once, and that classmates fans have being strangely enamored by him ever since. he was pressured into making an account, but doesn't use it much.

———

Character Summary: “I wade through honey-rich excess while you starve of your own volition”

[you’ll find out soon enough.. Just send enough interactions ;)] ____________________

(made in picrew) [twst styled pic/spite of him in uniform soon to come]

“Kuhi no ka lima, hele no ka maka. – (Where the hands move, there let the eyes follow.)”

School: Royal Sword Academy

[Deinósavros] [the dorm was founded on the ambition of the king of monsters]

Full Name: Eleu Neart

Nicknames: Bambi (by Taranis & Kaiyō), Sonic-hoof (fellow clubmates)

Grade/Class: Year 1 (freshmen)/Class (No.1-B)

Birthday: September 11th (Virgo)

Age: 16 yrs old

Height: 7’0”/213.36 cm without antlers, 7’6”/228.6 cm with antlers)

Race: Beastman (Kaiju - deer - subspecies)

Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous

Homeland: Shaftlands (the seaside jungle/taiga forest, known as “The Deep Bark”)

Club: Track & Field

Best Subjects: Defense magic, Astrology

Worst Subject: Mathematics

Hobbies: wood carving, fruit carving, bird watching, and foraging.

Pet Peeves: Loud sounds, something sharp scraping glass or metal, people who berate him for not speaking.

Fears: Anyone bigger than him/other members of his dorm/predator species beastmen

Favorite Food(s): Mango, Lemon, Papaya (he eats them like apples)

Least Favorite Food: anything that's meat based.

Talent: Wood working/whittling

Unique Magic: “Motion Sense” Incantation: “hello, my ol’ heart..” [The user can detect objects or living beings around them by detecting their movement, allowing them to see even objects or beings that are invisible or obscured (by fog for example), as long as they are in motion. May be accomplished by detecting kinetic energy, utilizing the Doppler Effect to detect the distortions caused by waves hitting or passing through a moving object, an extremely powerful sense of touch or other methods. Precision can vary - even a being standing perfectly still may still have a beating heart or twitching muscles which can be sensed if the user focuses hard enough. can be used through walls, floors, or bodies of water. anywhere they can sense vibrations and whatnot. The user can easily get overwhelmed if there's too much motion to keep track of.]

Trivia: He’s loosely based on the deer that reside on skull island, but tweaked a bit. He has almost scary inhuman levels of speed/dexterity/reflexes, despite his large scale body size, and was hazed into joining track by some upperclassmen despite wanting to join Botany.. but quite enjoys being useful to others on a team. he's effortlessly out ran many rabbit beastmen and wolf beastmen during practice and track meets. He knows how to speak, and is fluent in the three most common languages used in this world, but prefers to communicate with others through gesturing, facial expressions, and body language. though a majority of the time he uses sign language, instead of struggling through charades.. even in places/around people he's comfortable with, he still wont really talk and still just sign. When he does speak its typically in this worlds version of the Hawaiian language. His first name means “alert, lively” in Hawaiian, and his surname means “energy, bold, vigor (+many more)” in (Scottish) gaelic. He also has a lot of social anxiety, from being an outcast due to being weaker than other beastmen, and from his subspecies of beastmen being a prey species. Being raised to avoid conflict at all costs, to be both quiet and quick to avoid attention, all that. So he’d rather flee at the first chance than waste time bargaining for his life. He's naturally skittish and distrusting of others, especially rich people/predator species. but has a big heart and always tries to assist others, fellow prey species/non-’monsters’, despite his fears/self doubt.

———

Character Summary: '-It’s always ‘strength in numbers’.. Until you're hungry.-'

[you’ll find out soon enough.. Just send enough interactions ;)] ____________________

(made in a picrew created by G0966) [twst styled pic/spite of him in uniform soon to come]

“Problems aren’t stop signs, they’re guidelines.”

School: Royal Sword Academy

[Deinósavros] [the dorm was founded on the ambition of the king of monsters]

Full Name: Ramarak Sarasvati

Nicknames: Bullet (from fellow swim club members), and Big little boy (by his brothers)

Grade/Class: Year 2 (Sophomore)/Class (No.2-B)

Birthday: July 23rd (Leo)

Age: 18 yrs old

Height: 7’5 (228.6 cm) when slouching/walking using his canes, and 7’9” (236.22 cm) when bent straight upwards/laying down

Race: Beastman (Kaiju - Subterranean Serpentine {??} subspecies)

Dominant Hand: ???

Homeland: Land Of Dawning (Archipelago)

Club: Swim club

Best Subjects: Physical education, & Changes and Comparisons of Abbreviated Spells in Ancient and Modern Magic History

Worst Subject: Flying, and Conjuration

Hobbies: Swimming, hiking, hosting a study group for anyone willing!, and practicing his heat sensory tracking skills (on his fellow dormmates, for a good challenge)

Pet Peeves: Bright lights/places (daytime itself) as he has very sensitive eyes, and cold weather (fall/winter) as he is somewhat cold blooded

Fears: yet to be discovered/determined..

Favorite Food: anything/everything, he's not picky. Though meat products are high on his list.

Least Favorite Food: it's all good bitch!!

Talent: Tracking/hunting, and being able to recite a dictionary verbatim - even backwards.

Unique Magic: “Battle cry” Incantation: “Respect my roar!” [The user is able to shout so loud that they can blow away or break objects with their ferocious vocal cords which can cause vibrations. They may also be able to emit a roar strong enough to damage hearing, cause fear, or paralyzation. The force caused by the roar may even cancel out opposing attacks. It can also be used to alert someone of the user's location. The user may roar for only as long as they have breath. The user is powerless if they are unable to roar, be it due to illness, exhaustion, or vocal nullification of some kind.]

Trivia: He’s based off of the skullscrawlers from kong skull island. He’s the head of the 'student honors society' in RSA. He’s from a rather dysfunctional family, a descendant of the noble military family who own/oversee the Archipelago. Their home was made into a burrowed out large inclined part of land of the Archipelago, that extends down into the earth - like an underground mansion. He has a lisp and hiss’s on his S’s. he has a very high metabolism, and is always hungry - finding it hard to satisfy it, and not usually having the resources to do so before attending rsa despite being nobility. He gorges on the abundance of food from the cafeteria during lunch - but doesn't like it when others watch him eat, so he goes somewhere secluded to feed on what he's gathered.. His jaws possess two rows of serrated, razor-sharp teeth, on the top and bottom. His tongue is inhumanly long, and prehensile. Can unhinge his jaw like a snake. His pupils are horizontal and somewhat resemble those of frogs and toads (same with the double eyelid thing). Just like Kaiyō, he has hidden gills on his neck, allowing him to breathe on land and underwater indefinitely. He uses two custom folding walking sticks with both arms in order to move around, as his legs were not formed right when he was born, bent in the wrong ways, and can’t properly walk without the sticks. also only 4 fingers/toes on his hands/feet instead of the normal 5 (his pinkies’ are missing). But he gets by just fine, and is quite happy. He has an unnaturally high physical durability, muscle strength (upper body) - and mobility/speed on land despite his disability. (when in his aquatic form his disability doesn't have precedence since his legs become a single tail). Need's glass's for reading and when in bright area's as he has sensitive eyes, doesn't wear them at night/in the dark.

———

Character Summary: “Anger is the fruit of rotten roots.“

[you’ll find out soon enough.. Just send enough interactions ;) ]

#Deinósavros #Deinósavros dorm #royal sword academy #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #rsa #twst #rsa ocs #twst ocs #rsa oc #twst oc #Taranis Vervloet #Eleu Neart #Hikaru Tengoku #Kaiyō Rūrābīsuto #rsa fandorm #Ramarak Sarasvati

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neoshipwreck · 3 years ago

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sea/marine neos!

lets just get these out of the way; sea/seas, mari/marines, oce/oceans, river/rivers, aqu/aquatics, fauna/floras, sea/shantys (+ tune/tunes, soul/souls, hea/hearts as in like a hearty, group howl of shanties until sunrise), fish/fishs, beach/beachs, sand/sands some more; reef/reefs, cora/corals, squi/squids (+ ink/inks), urch/urchins (also sea/urchins), shark/sharks, moss/moss’s (as in java moss/underwater moss), crab/crabs (+ pinch/pinchers, shell/shells) sea/shells, hook/hooks (as in a fishing hook), sail/sails (sail/sailors? the sailor/the sailors?) pira/pirates (+ the pirate/the pirates), torr/torrents (maybe wanna make sure for those two you clarify you arent talking abt waving the black flag lol), cap/captains (+ the captain/the captains), wave/waves, surf/surfs, gill/gills a couple more specific ones, angler/fishs (angl/anglers), octo/octopus’s (octo/octopis?), lotus/lotus’s, lily/lilys, liv/liverworts, cat/tails, jelly/fishs, star/fishs, salmon/salmons (sal/salmons), bass/bass’s, algae/algaes (al/gaes), kelp/kelps, mangr/mangroves (mangrove/mangroves), turtle/turtles (tur/turtles), lob/lobsters (lobster/lobsters), krill/krills, shrimp/shrimps, axo/lotls (axol/axolotls), mollusk/mollusks, sand/dollars (sandol/sandollars?),

#sea neopronouns #marine life neopronouns #mogai #2add onto later2 #neopronouns

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dogboy-willgraham · 4 years ago

Note

Prompt: soft, sweet giggles on both sides

(I am forever in love with the idea of space/deep sea so I made OCs to handle it. Their relationship doesn’t have a label, not exactly romantic or platonic, but they’re partners all the same. So these are kinda just long text chats but they're at work so there isn't another option really. Moss is their friend that watches their cat and polyps/whatever sea creature Milo has while they're gone.)

Milo lit up as gill's communication pad lit up with another message from Finley.

spacebass: hi

theisopodstookmyshoelaces: hey

spacebass: what are you doinh

theisopodstookmyshoelaces: talking to you dork

spacebass: not what i meant and you know it. have you found anything fun lately?

Milo giggled softly.

theisopodstookmyshoelaces: nothing new. my kepl farm is growing stronger tho, soon i shall feed myself on kelp and freezedried food alone

theisopodstookmyshoelaces: *kelp. it's kepl

Finley laughed, far too amused by the simple spelling error.

spacebass: too late babe, it's kepl now. don't know how you're going to break it to the other researchers

theisopodstookmyshoelaces: you're lucky you're in space or i would either fistfight or kiss you

spacebass: i am up for either one

theisopodstookmyshoelaces: silence simp. anyway, have they said when they're pulling you back down to Earth?

spacebass: in a moth or two i think. when are they pulling you up?

theisopodstookmyshoelaces: about the same timeframe. if we find something special, we might stretch it a bit, but we've only got so much food.

spacebass: but the kepl?

theisopodstookmyshoelaces: one cannot live on kepl alone. sweet cephalopod what have you done to me

spacebass: it's a new era sweetheart. kepl is the way

theisopodstookmyshoelaces: i am suffocating you in your sleep when we get home /j

spacebass: finally, i was wondering when you would break and end me

theisopodstookmyshoelaces: you know what. now that you said it i'm just gonna let you live

spacebass: noooooo babe how could you

theisopodstookmyshoelaces: >:3

spacebass: betrayal

theisopodstookmyshoelaces: whatever. have you guys found anything interesting up there?

spacebass: nah. small mammals are doing pretty well in space though,. they won't let me practice bass because there's enough fire hazards in this place, including me. they also won't let me start fires, only Chem Ken can.

theisopodstookmyshoelaces: aphobia

spacebass: ikr? i have put up with allos my entire life and now i can't set fires in a small highly oxygenated space? aphobia.

theisopodstookmyshoelaces: so sorry babe, may your bones become opalized as payment

spacebass: oh idk if moss told you but Skippy tried to eat some polyps a couple days ago.

theisopodstookmyshoelaces: how dare. i always knew skippy would betray me.

spacebass: hey. what if they're good? and we just don't know it?

theisopodstookmyshoelaces: you haven't eaten human and yet you still agree we shouldn't eat it

spacebass: one: don't assume that i haven't. two: why haven't we tried polyps?

theisopodstookmyshoelaces: bc try frying that. it's hard enough with the medusae.

spacebass: you're all just cowards

theisopodstookmyshoelaces: then try it.

spacebass: i am in space

theisopodstookmyshoelaces: then another reason to get home soon. i miss you

spacebass: i miss you too. get your watery ass home soon

theisopodstookmyshoelaces: alrighty spaceman, see you then

spacebass: wait did you just reference doctor who at me

*theisopodstookmyshoelaces is offline*

spacebass: get back here and answer my question coward

spacebass: fine. keep your secrets. i'm going to bed

*spacebass is offline*

#milo #finley #ocs #writing #my stuff #prompt fill

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cannibal-wings · 4 years ago

Note

Meat Cute and/or That’s a Human Person?

Oh baby! Someone’s asking about some original work! I’m really glad it’s Meat Cute because this is the story I’m doing for NaNoWriMo this year and I’m really excited about it. The whole idea came from me thinking up the pun around the trope “meet cute”. The most basic idea is that its a horror/comedy/romance about a guy who moves to a quiet forest town that worships a giant cube of meat that tells them how to live their lives. There he meets a local man who tells him that it was “destiny” they met and that he’s so excited to finally meet him. (note: the meat cube here didn’t predict this, this isn’t a “fated lovers” story, he just got his fortune read once or looked at a cookie and decided this was his One True Fate) Of course our main character doesn’t buy a single thing about the town and tries to uncover the secrets of the Meat Cube while also trying not to get murdered by the town. Think like, the subtle horror that’s treated as normal in Welcome To Night Vale. Its more of that feel than like say, Silent Hill. I’m keeping things pretty vague here because like I said, this is my NaNoWriMo project and I kinda want to use it as either a self pub novella or as a pitch to a publishing house.

That’s a Human Person is going under a cut because I have actual fic snippets I can share.

Ok so first off, you have to know a little about mirelurks in the Fallout world. Now, mirelurks are basically mutated crabs. They look like this, depending on the game you’re playing:

Pretty standard enemy for coastal areas.

But Tye, I hear you say, what do these have to do with that meme? These are clearly crabs. And not, Bill Wurtz voice, “a human person”. Enter, the Mirelurk King. Now, when I first started playing Fallout games, I started with Fallout 4, in which they looked like this:

Ok, not bad, I’m a certified monster fucker so like, its pretty human shaped huh? I mean it’s feral as all hell, and clearly an animal, but hey, it’s got some person attributes going on.

Then I played Fallout 3....

When I first saw these guys in game, I paused and started messaging my friend because that’s a fucking human person. Canonically the game says, no Tye, that is not a human person, that is a fish/crab monster that is also bipedal. But look here, I cannot be fooled. That’s a person. Or, at least, person like. Person enough for me to start developing advanced headcanons about a population of sapient mirelurk “kings”. I use quotes there because in this universe the term is human made and doesn’t denote the actual sex or gender of the creature in question. There are female mirelurk kings in this AU.

So, as my mind often does when I come across human enough monsters that appear to have a society, I start to expand on it and create wild headcanons. As I did here. I started to think about a population of escaped mirelurk kings that were used as research stock who are sapient and looking for a new home. They travel following rivers and streams, and are chased from area to area across the remains of the United States until they finally settle in a sea cave located under the ocean waves.

As my mind also does with Fallout, I discuss these things with my two close Fallout friends. One of which has an OC, Edward, that I frequently use in story ideas. Ed in this story is from this population of mirelurk kings, only he was found as a baby by a sweet old couple who raised him as their own in a bathtub and pond outside their hut. So he learned human language and mannerisms, unaware of the culture he is separated from. (His parents were killed before he hatched from an egg, having been separated from the main group during their search for a new home.)

Eventually he discovers his people and all that good stuff and has to choose between living with them, or living with the small group of humans who accept him. For visualization sake, imagine he looks like a cross between the two, upright, but with more fins and frills for emoting.

Here’s a bit from the WIP file since I actually did start writing this a few years ago:

Ed was frozen in fear and awe. The creatures that came up out of the ocean looked just like him, not like the other mirelurk kings, not like Nate or the people of Vault 120, these looked just like him. And they were holding spears.

The weapons were primitive but he knew that didn't matter. A spear was a spear and he knew it could skewer him all the same. He looked around anxiously but there was no one nearby who could offer any help.

They drew closer to him and started making fast clicking and chirping sounds. The closer they got the more energetic the sounds. They pointed and flared their gills and fins before reaching Ed who backed up in confusion and fear.

The other mirelurks stopped and made more clicking noises and chirped. They could tell Ed was uneasy and one of them dropped a spear and tried again, this time chirping softly.

“I-I’m sorry I don't understand what you're saying.”

The two gave each other a long glance before nodding. (He does not speak our language, but the language of the humans.)

(He is clearly our lost Brother though. The Elders will know what to do with him. Some speak his tongue, they can explain.)

(But what if he's a human aligned? He could put the whole nest in danger!)

(True but he is family. He must be given a chance. You know as well as I that our laws forbid killing one another. Besides, you felt the same hope and happiness I did when you saw him. Think of the family, think of the Elders. They will be overjoyed by his presence.)

(What if it's not him?)

(It's him. You can't fake our scent markers and color patterns.) The one who put down the spear approached Ed again calmly. (Please do not be frightened. You must have lived an awfully lonely life. We will take you Home.)

(He can't understand you.)

(Hush.) He hissed at his companion then regretted it when he saw Ed shy away. He tried again, making his voice as soothing as possible. (We are here to help, come with us.)

His companion made motions towards the ocean. And they started to walk into the waters. (Come on, come with us.) They motioned again but Ed stayed deathly still.

Ed didn't know what they wanted from him. He kept babbling that he didn't understand them over and over but it didn't work. Now they were gesturing at him and the open ocean. Did they want him to follow? He wasn't so sure he wanted to follow. One of them walked out of the water and reached for Ed’s hand. He jerked it away reflexively but the other mirelurk didn't give up. He reached again, slowly, and Ed let him grab his arm. The other mirelurk was soft and gentle and felt just like he did. When he pulled Ed hesitated but took a step forward anyway.

It wasn't until he was completely submerged underwater that his panic reaction started to kick in. He was being pulled further and further from shore by two creatures he had never met, who he couldn't communicate with and he would soon be on his own if something bad happened.

But surely if these creatures wanted to kill him they would have done it up on the shore. He followed them, noticing that they swam far differently than he did. They moved their bodies in a fashion similar to dolphins. Ed tried to mimic it but struggled, so he went back to swimming how he learned. He became acutely aware that he was probably swimming like a human.

They traveled further and further down into the ocean, where the waters became dark and murky. Mankind's treatment of planet earth didn't leave the sea in favorable conditions and even two hundred years later it was still struggling to come back. Ed noticed that the spearheads had begun to glow a soft blue in the darkness, then he noticed anklets and other jewelry start to give off the same glow. He wondered what it meant but had no way to ask underwater.

They traveled along the seabed for what seemed like hours. Normally Ed would be exhausted after swimming for so long but he felt even more energized than normal. This was new, this was exciting and he even though he was scared he kept on going.

There were more things that glowed the further down they went. Plants dotted the seafloor with oranges, reds and blues while animals fluoresced in purples, greens and yellows. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the colors. Ed wondered if life had this glow before the bombs, or if this was new, caused by the radiation.

A grouping of brightly glowing blue plants marked an opening to a tunnel. The two mirelurks headed in it's direction. Ed followed cautiously behind. The plants seemed like moss, but underwater and they clung to the rocky surface of the tunnel entrance. Once inside more of the moss lit the interior allowing them to see completely.

The mirelurks didn't slow and kept their pace which caused Ed to stop gawking and swim faster to keep up. There were different branching paths in the tunnel, some more brightly lit than others but his escorts only moved straight ahead. Eventually the tunnel curved upwards and opened up into a pool.

When Ed’s face cautiously surfaced he was stunned by what he saw. A huge cave opened up around him, with a ceiling so high it was difficult to see. The pool they were in covered a large amount of one side and he spotted dozens of other mirelurks swimming around. Some were sitting on ledges, letting their feet skim the water while others played and splashed.

Ed was so overwhelmed he forgot to tread water and fell back under the surface. He blinked several times to try to focus and came up once more. His escorts had swam to the opposite end if the pool and were climbing out using a grand carved staircase. Edward hurried to follow. The stones were warm to the touch and he did not shiver when he exited the water.

He looked around with wide eyes at the sight before him. There were grand natural columns that held up the cavern ceiling, they were ringed with glowing mushrooms and moss. All around were groups of these mushrooms, they lit the walls and the ground in a soft blue and white glow.

And there were mirelurks everywhere. At least sixty in his immediate field of view. They came in many different sizes but they all looked like him. Nearly all of them were the same color and had similar markings. And all of them went silent as he climbed the last step.

It was so quiet Ed could hear the water dripping off of his body and the stalactites. He didn't know what to do, suddenly there were too many eyes on him and nowhere to hide. It was like he was a child being gawked at all over again. He didn't know if he should run or stay so he ended up shaking instead.

Then slowly there was a rise in chatter. A few of the bigger mirelurks started clicking, and then one by one they flared their gills and fins and started chirping. More and more voices joined in until the cave was roaring with voices.

Ed wanted to scream at them to stop, to be quiet. He didn't understand any of it and he knew he was moments away from crying. Then, it was as if someone had read his mind. A larger, older mirelurk appeared from the crowd. They had a dull glow that emanated from their eyes, fins and gills. (Silence! The newcomer is overwhelmed.) They turned their attention to Edward and said softly in the new silence, (welcome my lost child, you are Home now.)

One of his escorts stepped forward. (Elder he does not speak our language but that of man.)

(I see.) “Then this must be very overwhelming for you.”

Ed didn't know what to say, even when he could finally understand something. He looked from face to face and tried to place the emotion that was surging through the room.

“Don't be afraid. It's all right. The others just got excited. You are more than you know to us.”

Finally, Ed asked, “What does that mean? What is this place?”

“This is Home and your parents were part of our family. You are one of us. This is your ancestry, your blood. We are you and you are us.”

“We were a wandering people, child,” the old Lurk said to Ed. “Our history as old as the bombs. We came from far across the Land. We swam up rivers and nested along lakes, every so often we let the Big Water carry us someplace new. Our Family, like all our people came from the far side of the Land, only we never took to the Big Water. We followed a mighty river on our path away from the humans. All was good for a long, long time. But our numbers soon grew too big, humans were growing bolder, and stronger, and more scared than ever. We knew we couldn't keep wandering. We needed a home.”

“How do you know all this? Were you there?”

The elder laughed. “No child, I am old, but not that old. Our history was oral, passed down through the generations. Now we keep a written record, I will show you the tablets later.”

“There's written language?” Ed asked, surprised.

“Hush child, I am telling you the story of our people. We decided that we must find a permanent home, a place to rest our fins and grow strong families. We settled on a large lake. The fish were plentiful, plants abundant, and the creatures of the Land big and stupid. We could build strong nests and warm dens to outlast even the cold bite of snow. And we were happy.”

“What happened?” Ed asked. “Why are we here now and not there?”

“Humans happened child. Just like our feral cousins from across the Land who were driven from their caves we too were forced from our home.” The elder watched as Ed instinctively bared his teeth and hissed. “I must make this clear my child, we do not blame the humans for the humans were only doing what comes natural to them. As we hunt and grow and spread so do they. When we are frightened we emit our Power, they fire bullets. It is not anyone's fault, it is nature. The humans came and we left. Our Power is no match for the bullets and we did not want to die. We were a wandering people once, so we wandered again.”

“During that time your mother was heavy with eggs. We all knew she would not make the journey before needing to nest. It happened one day, she needed to nest desperately and your father stayed with her. We all would have stayed as well but our numbers were too great. They picked a small pond with clean water and we helped make them comfortable. We gave them food and cloth and kept them in our thoughts. During our journey we left signs for them, they said they would follow to our new home after the babies were of traveling age. So we left them notes and marks on trees. We hid supplies and wrote on cave walls. When we reached this place and made it our Home we hoped they would come. Many, many, full moons had passed and we knew something had gone wrong. When your family didn't show up for half a season we knew they had died. There was no way of knowing just how many eggs your mother was carrying but we mourned them all. The loss of a family runs deep with us and we felt the pain as strongly as if it were our own. We mourned your passing for another half season and moved on. So you can imagine all our shock and joy when many, many, seasons later you arrived. You cannot understand the joy we feel together, because all was not lost. You were not lost, and now my child, you are here where you belong.”

Ed didn't know how to feel about that. This cave was amazing, and he couldn't deny the instinctive kinship he felt towards his kind. But he was raised in a different world and they all knew that as well. “How did you pick this place? I've never heard of mirelurk kings living in caves.”

“That is because we are not mirelurk kings. Humans call all of us by that name but our family came from waters different from these. We are similar, yes. We share the same Power, and look alike but we are from across the Land. In those times we often chose caves as our Home, before we wandered. But competition with our more animal like brothers and sisters drove us to start a new life. Caves feel like Home so when we found this one we knew it was meant to be.”

“How come we are different? How come we have Homes and families and language?”

“Our cousins the kings and our brothers and sisters back across the Land have families too child. They care for each other the same as us. Only we have more complex feeling and thought. We do not know for sure our origin but it was passed down that we came from Humans. Our Elders talked of a great escape from a mighty prison. They spoke of a world of white and buzzing, where the sun was stored in tubes on the cave ceiling and humans controlled their families. When the great escape happened we branched off into the world. Some let the Big Water take them to places new. Others stayed close and others still started to wander. Perhaps our cousins here are descendants of those who went bravely into the Big Water. Or maybe they had their own great escape from somewhere. We are not sure.”

And that’s really as far as I got, RIP. Maybe someday I’ll pick this back up and finish fleshing out their culture and world. As a parting gift, here’s some concept art from Fallout 4 of the mirelurk kings showing them as being more upright like their earlier counterparts.

#Anonymous #Fallout 4 #I guess I'll tag it with the fandom lmao #sorry fallout 4 fandom all i am capable of writing is mutation and monster fic

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geeky-introvert · 5 years ago

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Enthralled . Sigurd X Nymph OC

Summary: Sigurd discovers a creature that could be bad or good….One-shot.

Word count: 2754

Warning: Smut, virginity loss and kink size.

Tag List: @lisinfleur @mdlady @didiintheblog @alicedopey @lupy22 @rekdreams247 @mblaqgi @oddsnendsfanfics @aphnxrising @happydaysandersen @therealcalicali @naaladareia @inforapound @captstefanbrandt @waiting4inspiration @tabalugax @p8tn0lish

If anyone else wants to be added to the tag list let me know please.

Sigurd had never truly felt the affection from his mother because she put all her love into Ivar. She had tried but Ivar wanted her for himself, which left him feeling lonely even after his brothers left with their father to go raiding.

That was years ago. Time had blown over and Sigurd held a strong bitterness towards Ivar, all because he was a cripple. It made him feel better to torment his little brother knowing he hated it, and it gave a sickening satisfaction that he craved and couldn’t stop himself from continuing every moment he could.

Ubbe had always tried to keep the peace but it wouldn’t last forever, even being their big brother he couldn’t fix everything.

He hated that Ivar was a cripple and sometimes wished he was normal like everyone else, than maybe their mother would’ve given them both the attention equally.

Nothing could change though. It was how things were and will continue on.

Now that Sigurd was older he preferred his own company. It was quiet without having to listen to anyone else and he was able to do as he pleased. He decided to go hunting in the woods.

It was supposed to be just like any other day, but the gods had other plans for him.

There was a river he always crossed without any trouble but when he got to the river side he noticed the water had raised and had a strong current flowing. There had been a storm the night before so he figured that was the cause of it. The log he used was still there and chose to take the risk and cross it.

He balanced himself as he carefully stepped along the mossy log and thought it was fine. However, when he got only half way he took a bad step against the moss and fell into the river. The water carried him fast and barely managed to keep his head afloat as he tried to swim his way to shore. Suddenly a large boulder hit against his shoulder and cried out in pain before another hit with full force against his head, knocking him out completely and sank into the depths of the river.

He thought he was dead, he should’ve been but he wasn’t when he finally regained consciousness and let out a sharp cough that burned his throat. His shoulder hurt and felt a large lump formed against his head.

He tried to sit up and adjust his eyes in the icy cold air that lingering around him and noticed that he was laid out on a surprisingly soft mossy flat rock. Everything came back to Sigurd and that last thing he remembered was struggling to breath.

For a moment he believed he was dead and in Valhalla.

He then looked at his surroundings and felt that he might be truly in Valhalla, because what he saw was memorising. The light from the sun shined through the exposed gaps above him where it was covered in more boulders and vines, around him was more moss but not the slippery kind; it was so soft, like nothing he felt before. A small waterfall slowly flowed not far from him from a large exposed gap that was big enough to fit at least two people. The water was so calm and clear he could see the very bottom.

A warm smile formed as he admired the peaceful place, but that quickly changed when a aching pain came from his shoulder and saw that someone that wrapped it up in a large leaf with some kind of mushed up treatment under it.

Someone had brought him there.

He was shirtless, small cuts and formed bruising all covered most his body from the rapid waters. With whatever strength he had left lingering in him he sat up straight and gazed around the damp place.

The sound of soft water movement caught in his hearing and sharply turned where it came from. He saw someone on the water, barely hiding behind a mossy boulder as they peaked around it staring at him curiously.

“Who are you?” His breathing was heavy as he waited for a response from them.

The figure than slowly swam around the boulder and into his view. It was a woman and not just any woman but the most beautiful he’d ever seen before. Her silver eyes stared at him with curation and curiosity, pale skin like the moonlight and long blonde hair that surrounded her small figure. That wasn’t all he noticed about her. He saw what looked like gills surrounding both sides of her her neck and as she drew closer her hands laid over the surface of the rocks he saw her webbed fingers clear in his view.

“I’m Aura.” Her foreign accent was like liquid gold, so pure and alluring. She looked nervous just like he was. Both didn’t know what to probably say to one another. “What your name?” Her lack of proper words added to his curiosity.

“Sigurd.” He shifted himself closer to her carefully. “Did you save me?” She offered a shy smile to him.

“You were drowning. I saved you. I helped you. You feel better?” She had gained enough confidence to lift herself up from the water and sat on top of the rocks beside him.

He couldn’t prevent his eyes from roaming over her naked figure. Even for her small size she had the body of a grown woman. At first his mind convinced him that she was a mermaid but noticed she still had her legs freely kicking against the water. She didn’t seem at all bothered by his staring.

“Y-yeah, I’m alright.” He finally answered after the long silence between them. “Thank you, Aura.”

“You welcome, Sigurd.”

“Forgive me, but what are you?” He couldn’t help himself.

“I water nymph. This my home.” She directed around them. “You guest in my home. I welcome you.”

Her beautiful was beyond anything, those eyes and silky warm smile was almost chronic, and his urges wanted more.

“Your home is beautiful.” He admitted kindly which brought a broad smile to her. “Thank you for saving me, I owe you a great debt.”

“What is debt?”

“Debt is like I owe you something in return for helping me.” Her eyes lit up so brightly at his words and he wasn’t sure why.

“You owe debt. I know debt.” Her words were mixed but he seemed to pull them apart and back together in order to understand what she was trying to say.

“What do you want in return?” He sounded unsure and not fully understanding what she was exactly asking from him.

“I want child.”

Now that was something he never expected.

“Y-you want a child?”

“I want to be mother. You give me child.”

He didn’t know how to think or feel about it. She was asking like it was just a casual thing, but it wasn’t.

“You want to have my child?” She nodded confirming it and scooted closer so that her wet hand touched his.

“Yes. I’m of age. I’m ready.”

Sigurd felt torn. He wanted to give her what she wanted but he also felt conflicted with the mater of her not being human like him. Not that it was a bother, but he wasn’t fully sure what that meant if he went along with it. Something told him she wouldn’t be able to go with him and he understood why.

“Will I ever see you and the child?”

“Yes. You can visit. Welcome anytime.” That did bring some relief.

He thought over it without really thinking hard, and quickly made his mind up.

“Alright, I’ll give you a child.” He gave a warm smile which she returned.

He leaned forward and kissed her softly, and felt she didn’t return the kiss but coaxed her by deepening it and brought his hand behind her neck to pull her in closer to him. She seemed to fall in motion with it quickly. He could tell by the kiss it was her first but he was patent.

Their tongues rolled together slowly, the moment stretched out as Sigurd wanted this to be perfect. He’s had women before and he thought she was a virgin, so he took his time. Even though he still felt sore he did his best to not hurt himself as he gently pulled her closer and laid her down against the moss before crawling over her.

He moved away from the kiss and looked down at her lost in awe from her innocent beauty.

“What happen now?” Aura asked out of breath.

Sigurd didn’t need to know anymore that she was truly a virgin and leaned down closer to her face.

“Has anyone ever told you about sex?” She gave a confused shake.

“I been alone for long time. No one ever told me.”

To him it sounded almost sad that she hasn’t had anyone around for a long time. A child would bring that joy to her.

He leaned down over her chest and took one of her nipples between his lips, and suckled softly at the tender flesh before repeating the same action to her other nipple.

Her soft moans made his cock twitch and harden under his still damp trousers and grounded himself against her. She sounded surprised, and he only smiled before kissing her again. His hands tugged his trousers down and kicked them off his feet leaving him bare for her to feel.

“What that?” She stuttered as she tried to gaze down between them when she felt his hardened cock touching her.

“That’s how we’re going to make a child.”

He thought it was rather cute that she had no clue how this was going to play out for each other but he was prepared to be patient with her and show how it was done.

With gentle hands he parted her thighs and settled himself between her spread legs as he ignored the aching pain in his shoulder. He watched with amazement as the gills at her neck flared out along with her heavy breathing and for a moment he thought she might need to be in the water. It was as if she read his mind.

“No worry. I breathe fine out water.” Everything about her was so perfect.

“By gods, you’re everything a man could want.” He rasped quietly and brushed their lips together lightly in a tender affection. Her only response was a light giggle that sent shivers through him, like she had just cast a spell, and if she did he didn’t care.

His hand travelled down between them and rubbed his rough fingers against her sex, in which he was surprised to find she had no hair surrounding her core. She let out a frightened gasp at the sudden feeling he gave and ranked her fingers against his chest.

“First times always hurt, but I’ll do my best to make it pleasurable for you.” He warned her before his fingers started to gently stroke against her moist folds and over her sensitive bud.

She mewled out from the sudden fire that lit up in her abdomen and tossed her head back against the moss. He kissed her collarbone and up to her face again where he gave another gentle kiss to her before his finger pushed into her tight core.

Her moan came out with discomfort and he shushed her with tender kisses against her damp skin. She clenched tightly around his thrusting finger and he knew it was going to be a tight fit. Her body was already so small and for a mere moment he doubted he could. But once he felt his finger adjust around his finger he knew it would be alright for him to precede, it was just going to take time.

His finger was gone from her core and he spat into his hand to lube himself and spat again for her sex. Her juices were leaking but he needed to be sure she was alright to take him.

He got himself in position and hooked her legs around his waist before he lined himself and probed her sex a little, right before he pushed the tip of his cock in. She whimpered at his thickness and distracted her by leaving soothing kisses against her chest as he tried pushing more of himself into her tight sex. It was working for a moment because of how small she was, but after a few more forced pushes he felt something give way and felt his cock move more in her.

Her eyes were sealed shut and she bit her reddened lips as his cock broke through her virginity and pushed up against her g spot. Sigurd groaned lowly and looked down between them. His eye’s widened when he saw the bulge formed at her lower abdomen and when he shifted he released it was his cock that pressed up against her. It was like a strange fetish that suddenly came to life and rubbed the swollen bulge with a shuttered breath.

His cock fully settled in her and Aura let out deep inhales and exhales to keep her breathing even as she adjusted to his thick cock.

He kissed her deeply before he pulled out of her and thrust back in quickly. It jolted the both of them. He wanted to fuck her like there was no tomorrow but he didn’t want to hurt her. Her legs wrapped around him and her sounds were mixed with pain and pleasure, but she looked at him and gave a nod.

She was ready.

Sigurd rolled his hips and watched the bulge rotate up and gave a firm thrust against her again. He held back as much as he could as he grind his hips against her with firm and slow movements.

“Oh fuck!” He groaned out while biting his lips.

“Sigurd!” She gasped out feeling the pleasure bubble its way up through her.

His thrusts became fast, harsher, he couldn’t help himself. He watched as his cock appeared and disappeared into her and the bulge moving up and down against her lower abdomen.

“Sigurd, Sigurd!” She sobbed loudly and shook under him as her orgasm erupted through her.

He felt her clench so tightly around him that he found his end after a few more firm thrusts and spilled his seed in her. After a short moment he pulled out and collapsed beside her with a heavy exhale.

Aura shivered and nuzzled herself against him, which made him move his injured shoulder gentle and welcomed her into his side with a warm smile.

“I promise to visit you, Aura.” He swore to Odin himself he would.

“I hope so. I like you.”

“I like you too.”

Their lips then sealed together.

As promised he visited her every month without anyone noticing even by his brothers. Every month she grew bigger with her swollen stomach and growing child. After the nine month period he returned to find she had the child the night before.

It was a beautiful baby girl. Aura named her Irie. She had the blondest hair with blue eyes just like him. Besides Aura, Irie was the second most amazing thing he’d ever seen.

He knew they couldn’t go back with him, where they were was their home. He will continue visiting until his time had come. Being with them though brought so much comfort to his empty soul and craved it every moment he could.

They were his family, his beauties, and his light through the struggles of the world.

#vikings #sigurd snake in the eye #sigurd x oc #sigurd x reader #water nymph #fanfiction #fandom #5cw #5cwsigurd #smut #sigurd imagine

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spacebugarts · 10 months ago

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I made the mistake of basing a new character on one I loved as a kid and I'm now obsessing over them both at the same time TTωTT

#im making a TADC oc and I based their appearance on Gill Moss from KP #bc for some reason his character design always stuck with me even though he was only in 2 episodes #and I decided to rewatch them so I could remember what he was like as a character #and now i have two silly fish guys living in my head #i think he deserves a redemption arc as a treat #and also more screentime bc what the fuck #he has a fun design how can you not want to give him more episodes?

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crowithydoodles · 5 months ago

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#crowithy ocs #gill moss (oc)

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finalfantasyxivwritings · 6 years ago

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Honest Pay for an Honest Job

AO3 Version

Relationship: Samilen Jawantal (OC)/Reader

Rating: General Audience

Summary: You're an immigrant to the continent of Eorzea, looking for work where there was little where you came from. You settle in Gridania in the hopes that you'll be able to find a job, but quickly realize that most folk aren't too kind to outsiders.

In desperation you travel to Quarrymill, but along the way you meet a rather peculiar miqo'te named Samilen Jawantal. He is sweet, though a little awkward, and helps you find a place for yourself in the settlement.

It just so happens that you two become friends along the way.

Note: If it helps, this is the outfit and general scenery I had in mind while writing Samilen ;3c

When warned that the Black Shroud could be difficult to navigate, you assumed it came only from a place of misunderstanding. The guards who had offered such cautious words saw you as but a newcomer to the lands of Eorzea--and likely assumed everywhere would be hard to navigate. Though it may be true that you'd been on the land for only a scant few weeks before venturing outside the city of Gridania, you're certainly no child--how confusing could it be to find your way around?

In short: extremely.

The Black Shroud was not named such without reason. It felt very much like a shroud of trees hanging over you, being hard to navigate and harder still when there wasn’t any sunlight to keep the path visible. It felt very much like a maze. Everything from the trees to even the animals seemed happy to taunt you at every step.

From the main city-state of Gridania, the small town of Quarrymill didn't seem very far. A full day of walking at most, since you couldn't afford a chocobo porter or had the luck to come upon a passing wagon.

Of course, a day of waking seemed naught of risks when planning it from behind safe walls and surrounded by multitudes of people.

You're edging on terrified. The sun is perhaps only an hour from dipping out of the sky and leaving the Black Shroud very fitting of its name--already you've lost sight of the dirt path once beneath your feet, and with darkness closing in you'll have even less a chance to find it.

All you wanted to do was look for work.

It's why you came to Eorzea in the first place, as you wanted no game or overwhelming fortune, no recognition beyond a pocketful of gill to earn you a pillow beneath your head and food in your belly. Be it fate or sheer dumb luck, your heart couldn’t bare the thought of getting caught in such a dismal situation after working so hard to get here.

There’s a map rolled up and hidden somewhere in the bag slung over your shoulder, but it’s long-since lost usefulness to someone who can scarcely read it. It wouldn’t matter anyway as direction is not the issue at hand--all you’ve got is to follow the southern pathway--it’s your speed that bothers you the most. A couple wrong turns had cost almost two full hours. If you’re lucky and keep a swift pace you may get to Quarrymill sometime after dark, but…

There’s little use thinking about it. You’re beyond the point of being able to turn around.

The noises of the forest have almost become pleasant. From the insects to the wind and trees to the animals hiding out of sight, it’s almost like white noise. Considering that you had been listening to it since the first footfall outside of Gridania’s main gate, it doesn’t take very long for you to realize a new sound drifting through the air.

It’s odd enough to give you pause, actually stopping yourself so that your ears have no extra footsteps to listen past--and yes, there it is, a sudden noise differing from the others. It’s off to the right of the path a ways, distant in the way that all forest noises are but close enough that you feel compelled to get closer.

A man? You think it’s the voice of a man echoing between the trees, but it’s hard to be certain if what you’re hearing is cries of anguish or something else completely--and you have already heard a plethora of odd noises proven rather innocent in but your first several days in Gridania. It only takes one time to mistake the shrill cry of a opo-opo as a young child for you to learn that the forests are not to be underestimated nor disrespected.

Even so, the noise lingers for long enough that your feet start to move before your brain has time to think the decision over. By the time you’re off the trail and quickly stepping around various rocks and underbrush, the noise has shifted ever so subtly so that you can make out words.

“For Twelvessake,” you hear the voice echo through the air. “Stop shaking! You’re not gonna make this any easier on ‘ya by moving around like that.”

You get nearer to the source, keeping far from the swing of low-laying branches as you push them out of your way. A couple of them still hit you regardless.

“You know I’m helpin’ you, just….stay still….”

The voice gets clearer in as many moments as it takes footsteps before you finally catch the source in your vision. There’s a small break in the trees, not so much a clearing but a small patch of land where none seem to grow outside of thick grass and moss covering small rocks.

You stop off the edge of the trees, feeling a burn in your lungs from the running and a curiosity swimming in your mind. This would be the first person you’ve met after hours along the trail--perhaps they may be able to aid you in some way.

A treant stands tall in the center of the clearing. The beast is mighty in size, but not nearly as large as you imagined they could be from the stories murmured by the Gridanian guards. It stand at but the height of a man and a half, it’s form reminiscent of a tree that has uprooted itself and begun to walk about. Its limbs are long and many in number, face almost indiscernible from the bark-like texture of its body.

Perhaps this one is young? You know too little to be sure, though your eyes flick to the next thing to catch your attention before an answer seems important enough to consider.

There’s a man tangled in the treant’s branches, a man whose voice rings out as the very one you were following but a scant few seconds before. He seems to be reaching for something, an item also tangled well within the leaves and vines that must make up part of the creature’s body.

You find yourself staring at the scene for a few moments before you realize that the item is a net; the mesh is thick and broken in places, but a piece of trash tossed aside by some careless hunter.

It seems to make movement difficult for the young treant, something that the man seems keen to change despite the fact that he too seems almost as entangled in branches and vines of the creature’s upper form.

You have heard poachers were common in the Black Shroud. You heard talk about them amongst several of the guards, often with venom lacing their words, but had the luck not to run into one just yet--the forest alone seemed to be intimidating enough without a morally-dubious individual in your way making things worse.

You take a few steps closer and manage to catch a steady glimpse of the man, enough to realize that he’s a Miqo’te and, if going by his hair and complexion, a Keeper of the Moon.

In fact, if it wasn’t for his long silvery hair, you wouldn’t even be able to make out the shape of him dangling in the treant’s branches.

He reaches out, fingertips just barely curling around a few threads of the net, and tugs a part of it free. The creature seems to offer a bittersweet cry of relief, leading to the Miqo’te finally being able to crawl closer to the object of it’s disdain and more properly begin untangling it.

It takes only a minute or two once he had a proper reach, and you merely watch as the broken mess falls in a heap to the ground, followed quickly by the much more elegant thump of the man as he lands in a crouch and all but glares at the object in obvious disgust.

The treant shows only the barest of thanks in simply not attacking the man, instead waddling off with heavy footsteps deeper into the thickets of the forest.

“Now I have to haul this thing to Quarrymill,” the Miqo’te mutters to himself, one hand dragging over his face, the other perched on his hip. “Just fuckin’ fantastic. I’m a botanist, not a-.”

The snap of a twig beneath one of your feet silences any words following, and instead catches his attention with the quickness of a lightning bolt.

His face turns instantly towards you, eyes wide for a moment in shock as his thoughts seem to catch up with the revelation that he is not the only person in the clearing. Not alone at all.

You expect him to say something to you, perhaps even laugh and ask something like ‘what are you doing here?’. You expect nothing specific in all honesty, but you at least ready yourself for some sort of question from him.

You get none.

For all that you heard him cursing up a storm but a few moments before the man is now discernibly more quiet, not a single noise falling from his lips even though it’s obvious you took him by surprise.

At least you’re able to get a better look at the man now that he’s not buried in branches and leaves.

He’s short, at least for a man, with a dark complexion that reminds you much of a shadow. His eyes and hair stand in stark contrast however, with the golden hue of his gaze earning the most of your attention. Silvery locks are pulled back into a braid, though the rest of it hands over one side of his face.

The man is dressed well, thick leather jacket probably protecting him from most of the cuts and scratches he’d otherwise have earned from the treant’s branches. He at least lacks much of the armor and gear you’d expect of a poacher, though he’s not nearly geared well enough to be a Gridanian guard of any sort.

“Um,” you find yourself feeling a bit unnerved beneath his gaze. “I’m actually heading to Quarrymill myself and uh--I heard you were going that way yourself, sir?”

He says nothing, though at least now his gaze has left you and falls instead to the pile of broken mesh netting. After enough time that you’re beginning to think that he’s outright forgotten you and your question, he finally turns back to look at you with a perceivably softer look on his face.

And then his hands move.

Not so much in simple gestures, but movements reminiscent of something more; a communication that takes but a few short moments before you realize the motions as handspeak.

It seems a little odd for him to use such a form of nonverbal conversation since you had heard him speak and curse just a few moments ago, but your brain jumps right over the curiosity and instead begins to decipher his words without delay.

‘What’s someone like you doing out here in the forest?’ he asks, movements sharp and practiced--indication of experience, fluidity and perhaps even a tinge of annoyance within the words.

You begin to move your hands in answer, but the man quickly shakes his head.

‘You don’t need to do that,’ he gestures to his ears as if the notion had been obvious, though a flush of color over his cheeks keep the gesture from seeming too aggravated. ‘I can hear you just fine.’

After a moment of continued confusion you finally offer the man your name, trying to be as polite as possible in fear that the very help you sought for would slip between your fingers and, honestly, you did come upon this man a bit suddenly.

“I’m looking for work in Quarrymill,” you explain, hoping such fear would not leak into your words or tone.

‘Refugee?’

“I prefer the word ‘traveler’.”

A twitch of amusement pulls at the corner of the man’s mouth as one of his hand perch on his hip again, stance turning casual.

‘It all means the same to most folk in Eorzea.’

The sentiment is honest and nonthreatening, which is admittedly a breath of fresh air when compared to many others you’d spoken with in Gridania. Though you hold little knowledge of the continent’s history or cultural perspective outside of what you’ve heard in your travels into its borders, you know enough that many of her people don’t take kindly to foreign souls--or perhaps that just might be the scarce few in Gridania that a lack of luck forced you to meet.

The man’s eyes linger on you through the thought, golden and heavy in weight--there’s thoughts behind that gaze, ones you can’t hope to decipher.

‘My name is Samilen,’ the man finally signs, spelling his name with deliberate motions to make sure you understand before hurrying on. ‘Consider this your first job offer.’

He didn’t need to elaborate for you to understand what he meant by it, having just enough time to understand his words before Samilen turned and started pulling some of the thick netting into his arms.

You catch a glint of an axe on his back. There’s ornate symbols etched into both the wood of the handle and the wrought-iron metal blade--all of which look foreign to you, but it catches your attention and interest all the same. A woodsman? Did he live out here?

His eyes flash back at you before your thoughts can linger much farther into question, spurring you forward to try and pull the other half of the heap into your arms.

The netting is scratchy against your hands, biting into your skin by its own weight alone, but it’s easy enough with two people that you can ignore it and focus more on the shuffle of your feet so as not to trip on an errant vine.

“So,” you start, feeling a little awkward in the sudden silence between you and the stranger. “You live around here?”

Samilen looks at you after a moment, one brow perked and lips pursed together.

“I mean, I’m not trying to assume anything,” your words feel like they’re starting to press together, little more than a mush of noise leaving your mouth as you try to fill the air with noise. “Lots of people said Quarrymill was full of jobs for physical labor--in need of lots of building supplies, they said--and I noticed you’ve got an axe and, well, maybe y’know some people and...”

You almost have to force yourself to stop talking, flashing a gaze and forced smile to the Miqo’te in hopes that you don’t sound as awkward as you feel. Samilen blinks at you after a moment before making a gesture with his arms still holding the net. The movement is muffled, but otherwise able to get the message across as hot embarrassment fills your cheeks.

Of course.

“Ah,” you say, quickly taking the lack of speech from him as something running deeper than mere preference. “Understood. I’ll uh, ask you when we get there.”

You expected for the ‘when’ to be far after the sun had disappeared from the sky and the moon taken its place. If you were being at all honest with yourself, in fact, you would have worried deeply about finding yourself in the forest at night, surrounded by trees and underbrush that you could scarcely navigate during the day.

Samilen didn’t seem to share this same worry as you.

He paid the setting sun little mind as he directed the both of you onward through the forest, making odd twists and turns against the dirt path--if he didn’t have such a firm, assured look on his face, you would have questioned the man as being as lost as you had been by yourself.

And it’s a good thing you didn’t question him, for as soon as the sun’s last trickles of light hid themselves from the sky you found yourself stepping into the settlement of Quarrymill, among the bustling merchants and other travelers who were also hastily trying to get find safety within it’s tall, sturdy walls.

Even so, Samilen carefully directed the two of you into the small outcropping of homes and stalls, weaving through people and chocobo-drawn carts of goods.

It isn’t until you’re able to drop the netting beside one of the many merchants’ stands that you realize how sore your arms have grown, muscles aching and burning from the weight, the strands of the mesh having started to dug into your arms that there are marks (however temporary).

You gaze down at the pile. What use could it have for anyone now, you wonder, curious if Samilen had something in mind to make him want to bring it here--or perhaps it was an action out of concern. After all, you had seen the damage the abandoned item had to but one young treant--if the man was indeed a local, a woodsman at that, you can understand why he’d feel obligated to remove the mesh from the forest.

You tune back into the world just as your attention cycles back to Samilen.

Some fulms away he stands in front of the merchant’s stall where you both had left the net, conversing with a woman on the other side. His expression is soft and his motions languid--there’s familiarity in it, as in the way she regards him in kind.

“Y’know I can’t pay you fer’ it,” the woman says gently, gesturing towards the broken pile of mesh beside her stall. “Ain’t in the business of dealing with junk.”

Samilen smiles widely, as if at some unknown joke between them, and signs something too quick for you to catch.

The merchant laughs makes a waving gesture with her hand towards the net.

“Always makin’ a compelling offer, Jawantal. I guess I can’t say no to somethin’ free.”

It’s only then that the woman’s eyes flash in your direction, interest as obvious as the half-cocked smile over her lips.

“Oy, makin’ new friends are ya?”

Samilen blinks, then looks to you in but a flash of surprise (or perhaps embarrassment?) before realization dawns over his features, seemingly having forgotten you were still standing there.

‘We were both heading to Quarrymill,’ he signs after a moment, looking back at the woman. ‘I wasn’t about to carry that thing by myself if I could help it.’

The woman hums, leaning forward on the edge of the stall with eyes that seem to wonder more than what she asks.

She gestures for you to come closer and so you do, figuring that it’s not exactly proper to hold a conversation from a distance. It’s not as if you can feign disinterest or even unawareness of the conversation anymore.

“I’m a traveler,” you say at last in desperate hopes to set off on the right foot, stepping up beside Samilen and offering the woman your hand and name in the same breath. “Got a little lost getting here from Gridania, but I suppose I’m lucky enough to have run into Samilen here.”

She takes your hand with a smile, grip firm but not painful, and gestures towards herself with an almost trained motion.

“The name’s Edith Cater. I run this fine little establishment right here-” she knocks her knuckles against the surface of the wooden stall, then gestures to the small home behind her tucked against the cobblestone wall protecting the town. “-been sellin’ fish in Quarrymill for as long as I can remember. Y’might see my wife runnin’ around and cursing her luck at the fishes in the rivers--Svana is her name.”

The friendliness of the conversation is different from what you’ve grown used to, a difference that comes like a breath of fresh air after several stays of taking in nothing but fumes and smoke.

Edith hums and, glances towards one of the nearest entrances to Quarrymill, her eyes laying firm on the guards switching their shifts on either end of the large archway of stone and wood.

“Couldn’t have gotten here quicker either.”

You see a motion from the corner of your eye as Samilen signs something to her--a question, given his confused look, but too quick for you to decipher plainly.

Edith crosses her arms against her chest.

“I’m surprised you haven’t noticed yet--them kedtraps have been gettin’ mighty ornery the past several suns. Makin’ it real hard for anyone past sunfall.”

After a moment, the woman chuckles. “-Well, harder than usual. Not like they’re known fer’ bein’ nice.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“Kedtraps?” the question rolls from you lips, too quick for your mind to wonder if it’s a stupid question. “I’ve never heard of something like that before.”

Samilen gestures for your attention, grabbing your gaze to fall upon him as he turns to face you, half-leaning against the stall.

‘They’re a type of seedkin,’ he signs, looking pensive in his motions. ‘Dangerous if you can’t avoid them. Very aggressive. And annoying.’

He repeats the last motion with a grave seriousness, then drops his hands with a sigh.

He sounds tired, as if the news had done enough to pull what little energy was left in his body.

You got your answer as Samilen turns to Edith and purses his lips.

‘I’ll take care of them in the morning, I might know what’s causing such a swell in their numbers.’

“I’m sure the guards’ll thank you for it plenty,” Edith says with a quirk to her smile. “I know it’s been makin’ it a challenge for anyone to get here safely coming from the West and South, Hurtin’ business something fierce for everyone.”

The sky has grown dark by this point, the sky dark and painted with stars that seemed to grow more bright by the breath. There would be little use to do anything now, leaving questions and curiosities best to be taken up again when the sun has risen.

“Is there any sort of inn around here?” you find yourself asking, caring little if it’s Edith or Samilen who has an answer for you.

Edith as it turns out is the first to do so--and her answer is merely laughter. She chuckles with a hand over her mouth, obviously taken for surprise by her own amusement and tries her best to stifle it back down.

“Oh dear, I’m sorry--” she glances about the town, bustling with its array of people, many native and so few travelers. “--you picked the worst time for that. There is a little place across the way, just over by the Northern entrance, but it’s been full-up every night for the last couple weeks.”

You follow her gesture towards what you assume is the building she’s talking about.

It’s small, easily missed if you weren’t already looking that way, and there are already several people hustling in and out of the front door. There’s a gentle billowing of smoke coming from the top of a chimney and the lights are already bright from inside.

It hardly looks as if it could room a dozen people.

You feel your heart fall into your stomach as you hurry away from both Edith and Samilen, only vaguely remembering to thank them for their time as you quickly move out of earshot to whatever they say after you.

It takes a few minutes to get through the small crowd of people bustled around the building but you eventually get inside.

The inn’s front room is neither spacious nor claustrophobic, but settled rather comfortably in the middle of the two. For being in a small settlement in the middle of the Black Shroud, it’s surprisingly well-kept; there’s a fire going in a fireplace against one wall and a collection of wooden chairs surrounding it. A rug decorates the floor beneath your feet in vibrant colors and designs that must have took a person weeks to make--perhaps even months.

At the center of it all lays a desk, a single elezen man manning it.

He has a book in-hand, a title you don’t recognize, and reads lazily over the pages with tired eyes behind messy brown hair.

He looks at you as you approach.

The gaze doesn’t last for more than a scant few moments, but it’s long enough that you almost feel...awkward. He looks you up and down before his eyes finally meet yours once more.

You’re unsure if you need to say something first or if it can simply be assumed you’re here for a room--it doesn’t seem to matter either way as the man already interrupts any greeting you have with a sudden, distasteful tone.

“If you’re here for a room,” he says, finally looking back to his book. “I’m sad to say that there isn’t another one available; we’re booked up for the evening. You’ll have to look elsewhere.”

Your stomach twists at the words; he doesn’t sound sad at all, rather disinterested and eager to have you leave.

“There surely has to be something available.” There just has to be, you tell yourself. “Even the smallest room or just a bed, I have the gil to pay for--”

The sound of a finger tapping against the counter between you stops the words before they start tumbling from your lips.

“What part of ‘none available’ do you not understand?”

For a moment you stand there, silent, his of annoyance hanging over you even as he looks back to that stupid book in his hands. When you don’t immediately leave from both the front desk and his sight, the man even gestures a hand as if to wave you away.

“No loitering. Go find charity elsewhere.”

For a moment, you wonder if he can tell that you’re not from Gridania. Perhaps the worry is silly, perhaps it’s far-fetched to consider, but you have the inkling in the back of your mind that he’d have a far more positive response if you were perhaps someone else. Someone native to the area.

The hardest part is that you can’t tell for certain--at least in Gridania people were far more open about their discrimination so it was easy to tell in but a single conversation who was friendly and who was not.

Angry, biting words settle in the back of your throat at the thought. There are plenty of things that you can say to the man, plenty more you could argue about, but none of them really matter--the last thing that you want or need is to pick an argument with someone especially as you know there’s nothing to be won.

You turn on your heel to leave.

Before you have the time to take even one step, you’re stopped immediately by a pair of hands as they come to rest on your shoulders. You’re moments away from apologizing to whomever it is that you’ve nearly run into, but their familiar face stops the words before you speak them.

It’s Samilen standing in front of you, his hands warm over your shoulders and expression stoic and calm. You don’t recall him following you in your haste to get a room, but he looks at you with gentleness in his golden eyes.

Don’t leave, the expression seems to say.

So you don’t.

Samilen steps around you after a breath, approaching the front desk with a level of care in each step. He starts to sign silently just as you turn to watch the scene unfold. The man behind the desk seems more attentive to the miqo’te, actually setting down the book as he watches Samilen’s motions.

“Oh! Mr. Jawantal,” there’s an obvious shift in tone in the man’s voice as he regards Samilen. “Are you turning in for the evening? Sergeant Dreyeux said you’d be staying again tonight--said he needed to speak to you about a kedtrap issue as well, if you’d seek him out--the room of course is ready for you, as always.”

When Samilen doesn’t respond after a few long moments, the elezen finally seems to get the hint to glance over behind him--to see you still standing there. He blinks, a moment of confusion passing over his face as he looks back to Samilen.

“Did you...bring a guest?”

Samilen nods.

‘They are with me,’ he signs, motions quick and almost too sharp to catch from behind him. ‘I didn’t realize you treat some travelers like that. It seems I have more to talk to the Sergeant about than just the kedtrap problem.’

He lets a moment slip by in stillness, as if contemplating a thought before continuing the motion of his hands.

‘...perhaps Quarrymill isn’t a place for me to frequent if you’re prone to discriminate others this much.’

“Sir, we don’t have room for just anyone to stay here,” there’s a stumble as he responds, his voice sounding weak and insincere in simply how sickly sweet it falls from his lips. “I’m charged with ensuring the rooms are available only to hard-working travelers and merchants who bring gil to Quarry-”

‘So you mean to tell me you could tell that by only a glance?’

Samilen’s motions are growing a little forceful and jerky. You can almost feel the aggravation in even his silent accusation.

“I mean--Mr. Jawantal you must understand that they're simply not the sort we need at Quarrymill, they look-”

‘I understand that I have not lived my life as a proud keeper miqo’te with constant discrimination from men like you-’ Samilen all but stabs a finger towards the man and, if you listened hard enough, you may even hear a low growl rumbling through the air. ‘-to stand by and let you shame someone who is willing to work an honest job for an honest pay.’

“I don’t think you understand, sir, you’re much different than others.”

‘Different?’

Samilen lets the word sit. Anger emanates in thick waves from the miqo’te; you can feel the tension in the air growing taut--the question only remains is if it will snap.

‘...I forget some people choose to see me as equal only when I am useful to them. Thank you for reminding me of that fact so I may bring it up to Sergeant Dreyeux on the morrow.’

The room falls into a cold silence as Samilen’s hands finally fall to his sides. He lets it sit like that for a breath, letting everything sink in before finally motioning a simple question,

‘Is there any available rooms or not?’

The elezen’s eyes break from the other’s gaze.

“No,” he says after a few moments. “They actually are all filled tonight.”

The way he says it confirms your suspicions of before, even if it means there’s nowhere for you to stay. You’re about to drop your gaze and leave the inn to move on to form a new plan of action when a motion from Samilen catches your eye, though it takes an extra second for your brain to make sure you read his words correctly.

‘They’re staying with me tonight then--mark down for one more in my room.’

The rest of the following couple moments is a bit of a blur, as in one you’re standing in the front room with Samilen a few steps in front of you, and in the next he has his fingers wrapped around one of your wrists and gently tugging you behind him.

The elezen at the front desk is saying something or another but you’re at a loss to hear the words--the blood thumping in your ears is loud enough to drown everything out that hasn’t already been numbed by the thick tension of the last few moments as Samilen had argued for you.

The rooms are located off to the left of the front desk, down a long and narrow hallway. There are doors lining up either side, with little numbers painted over the top of the entrance in dark script. The two of you step past all of the doors. Samilen instead moves to the last one, at the very end of the hallway, quickly opens it and gestures for you to go inside.

Whether it’s confusion or an instinctual need to follow the unspoken command, you step inside the room regardless. Samilen steps in behind you and closes the door with a click.

As the man takes a moment to close the door, you have the moment to take in the room itself.

It’s not a large space, certainly when compared to the room you had while in Gridania, but it’s not too small either; you have enough space to stretch out your arms at least three times over in both directions; a small cot sits in a corner of the room, covered in a weathered rucksack filled near-to-bursting with items you cannot guess.

A bow also rests near the bed, coupled with a quiver that looks filled with arrows if the feathered tail-ends are anything to go by. (Was Samilen an archer?)

There’s a set of clothes hanging from what must be fishing line, and a pair of leather boots set with some semblance of care below them.

It’s a humble room, but one that looks lived in; as things would seem, Samilen has been here for several nights already--though if from the gist of the conversation he had with the elezen manning the front desk, that may not last for much longer.

...Speaking of, you slowly realize that Samilen has been very quiet behind you, not even having tried to tap at your shoulder or even moved from the doorway.

Fear starts to bubble up in your stomach from the man’s lack of movement or touch upon your shoulder, so you spin on your heel to get a look at the mute man’s face for some sort of understanding of his thoughts and--

He looks...terrified? Worried, more like, his expression tense and his eyes looking at nowhere in particular for a breath.

He finally looks at you with a form of realization dawning on his face as the situation finally seems to sink in--the realization of what he’s done in but a haze of impulse upon witnessing your mistreatment and obvious need for aid.

The realization that he’s taken you to his own room in the inn and otherwise called you his guest for the evening.

And, in the span of a breath, he looks young. Unsure of himself.

Awkward.

“I uh,” you start to say. “Thank....you? I think? Are you...letting me...stay….with you?”

Samilen himself in the moment is certainly no help to your confidence. His expression remains tensed and screwed up, as if he’s made some sort of mistake--he looks about ready to knock his head against the doorframe.

He eventually gathers himself up, closes his eyes and knits his brows together.

‘Forgive me,’ he signs at last, looking exhausted in the motion. ‘ I…’

His motions pause as he searches for words.

‘...you can stay with me for tonight. Take my bed.’

“And what about you?”

‘I’m no stranger to sleeping on a bedroll.’

You can’t help but narrow your eyes at him, brows tight and expression bouncing between confused and angered by the suggestion.

“This is your room!” the exclamation rings a little in your own ears. “I can’t sleep on the bed while you sleep on the floor!”

Samilen stares at you. His golden eyes have lost the enigma, they are now just the eyes of a nervous man, a man who looks from you to the bed, then back at you again.

‘Ah,’ the word rings more on his face than in his hands. ‘I see, I forgot that might be uncomfortable for you.’

He takes a moment to reassess the situation, looking pensively around the room with one hand up to his chin in thought.

And then, as if with a rapturous idea, his ears prick up and he signs, ‘Then it’s settled: I’ll just sleep outside.’

You feel your face scrunch in confusion even stronger than before.

“What?” the question tumbles from your lips before you can stop it. “How is that any better? Why would you sleep outside?”

‘I was under the impression that you were uncomfortable with me sleeping in here with you.’

It’s as if he’s unsure what to do, and barely able to hide that insecurity from sight, if going by how it’s painted across his face.

“If this bothers you, why did you do that for me?”

Samilen blinks and then, after a moment, he finally looks assured of himself again, perhaps even a little curious at being asked the question itself--the same man you met before.

‘Because I couldn’t stand and watch that happen to you.’

He pauses, and for a moment you’re curious if there’s a soft flush of color darkening his cheeks.

‘...I got caught up in the moment and I apologize. I don’t….normally…invite people…..here. With me. Ever.’

Each word is signed with a pause between them, a trailing sentence that Samilen doesn’t seem to know the end of. He lets his hands fall to his sides as he sighs, finally collecting himself from the moment and all of the confusion that came with it.

For all of the oddity of the last few minutes, you find it rather endearing; he holds onto that stoic mask rather well, but it’s obvious that few people seem to be able to get past it. The two of you stand in silence, waiting for the other to come up with something to say.

You’re the one who eventually breaks it, hoping to turn the situation into something better.

“I did want to thank you for helping me get to Quarrymill,” you say at last, feeling a soft smile on your lips. “I don’t know what I would have done if I was still out in the Black Shroud after nightfall.”

Samilen mirrors the smile, only then remembering to make himself comfortable; he removes the axe hanging off his back, tucking the leather strap and holder onto a hook near the door. His top, revealed to be a jacket, follows it--he’s left wearing a simple hempen undershirt that hugs his upper body more, but not to a level that you feel uncomfortable in it.

‘You don’t need to thank me,’ Samilen signs before stepping over to the bed to remove the rucksack. He turns to you and gestures towards it--you can sit down. ‘Consider it repaid by helping me carry that net here.’

You take the offer after a moment, feeling the cot dip beneath your weight.

“Well, I’m still in your debt now--” your hand gesture around you. “How much does one of these rooms cost? I can pay you for this, just name a price and I’ll-”

Samilen waves his hands furiously in rejection as he finds an empty spot on the floor to sit. The offer earns a brief but strong look of disgust from him, the very notion off putting.

“Are you sure? I can give you-”

He still shakes his head.

‘I did this out of kindness alone, impulsive as it was. I’m not….good...with people like this, I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable,’ Samilen sighs and runs one of his hands through his hair, pulling out the tie holding the braid together so that it falls unbound over one of his shoulders.

“I’m...not uncomfortable,” you speak gently. “I’m just...confused? I’m not quite used to people sticking their neck out for me like this.”

If anything, Edith’s kindness was enough to surprise you. For Samilen to stand up for you AND then let you stay in his inn room? That was beyond surprising--that was downright confusing , as if the kindness was far beyond what your mind can handle.

Samilen shrugs, looking young and awkward again, as if he truly doesn’t know how to account for the warmth of his action other than something he just….did.

‘I guess I’m used to my people being discriminated too,’ he finally signs, finally gesturing towards himself. ‘Miqo’te aren’t native to Eorzea; it wasn’t long ago that we were seen as beast tribes. The Keepers especially are still often seen as poachers and leeches in Gridania.’

It explains a lot. His words. Where you had seen his actions as simple kindness, you can see it now as something more--a kinship, in a way, someone who can empathize with the hardships of being seen as an outsider.

‘I’m a really talented crafter in Gridania and I’ve done a lot for the botanists’ guild but...sometimes I wonder if that’s the only reason they treat me equally. Because I’m useful.’

It’s in that moment that you see Samilen for who he is, even if it’s only a glance. Even if it’s just a snippet, you feel warmth blossom in your belly at the chance to know someone in a place still so foreign and scary.

It’s comforting.

But, as the silence rolls on from there, it does give you a few moments to ponder over the situation.

“You said you were going to take care of that kedtrap problem tomorrow, correct?”

Samilen perks at the question, though flashes you a confused look.

You smile and feel confidence grow as you speak, hoping that the idea doesn’t come across as fantastical or silly than how it sounds in your head.

“Do you need any help in that? I am looking to get familiar with the area and well, I see it only appropriate to offer my hands however you need them in the endeavor.”

Samilen’s eyes start to narrow and his hands move in what you assume is already a rejection--most likely, as you’ve seen, because he doesn’t want you to offer out of a feeling of obligation or debt.

You don’t give him a moment to say much, as you are quick to remind him his own words.

“I am looking for honest work for honest pay, after all.”

That seems to get his attention.

‘...what are you suggesting?’

“I help you out with the issue tomorrow and you pay me for that help,” you say, hands starting to fiddle with themselves in a growing worry. “And, y’know, if there’s other tasks you need help in, then you certainly know someone who’s happy to help you with them--for a price.”

Samilen doesn’t look like the type of man to take people’s debt. It’s only at the mention of him paying you that he seems to consider it honestly, bringing a hand to his chin and letting the prospect roll around in his head.

You watch his expression shift. From stubborn denial to consideration, consideration to mulling, mulling finally to satisfaction--all of it within a couple seconds, ending with him glancing up at you with a quirked brow.

‘If you’re willing to learn some new things along the way--because the jobs I take aren’t always easy--’

“I get the feeling few things you do are all that easy.”

‘--then consider it a deal. I’ll pay you to work for me until you decide to find work elsewhere.’

The two of you exchange soft smiles as the situation seems to fall nicely into place. There may be loose ends and people to deal with, but at least the air isn’t awkward and your worries uncomforted. Samilen and you speak together late into the night, bouncing casually from one topic of conversation to another--awkwardness, if any, becomes something endearing of him.

It’s not a perfect start to your new lifetime in Eorzea, but it’s certainly more than what you’ve ever expected to find.

Because as it so happens, this is not just how you find work or even how you and Samilen meet as employer and employee. No, it’s more than simply that:

It’s how the two of you become friends.

#ffxiv #ffxiv reader insert #samilen jawantal #oc #warrior of light #warrior of light/reader #oc/reader #samilen jawantal/reader #readerinsert #samilen readerinsert #god this is a long one #writing #readershot

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