#guest muse: emet-selch.

[atdutiesend]

Y'shtola doesn't try to force it, instead waiting patiently. She doesn't expect him to trust her immediately; franky, she's surprised Dove has held their temper as well as they have with what they know now.

"You're working to correct the damage inflicted on their soul, and have done that by removing the excess light - which in turn has drawn out the darkness in your soul, and prevented that excess light from cycling back into the ambient aether. You clearly know them well enough to know that even knowing what it's doing to their soul isn't enough to stop Dove."

"She's not wrong." Dove agreed, resting their chin on top of his head.

"So if you're determined to continue helping them, perhaps we can help with the damage you're clearly inflicting on yourself as you do so."

" Not exactly sure how you plan to do that." Emet stated as he looked at her hand. He didn't trust a single one of them besides Dove.

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

(un)Catagorized [ii]

Ishgard The Firmament (post capstone)

------

Fourchenault considered the maidservant's words.

"...And this happened when?" He asked.

"A little bit over three years ago, mi'lord. Four if you want to count this year." The blue-haired woman answered.

"And you're certain of what you saw?"

"Yes! It sticks in my mind even now!" The hyur gestured--her hands fluttering like nervous birds.

"Nobody'd seen hide or hair of them for a year! There were rumors--that they were away--helping other Imperial provinces fight for freedom. Others said they were deep in the Empire itself. You had some lot swearing that they'd gone to the New World!" The woman paused, drawing in a breath.

"But I remember what I saw, and I remember that time. House Fortemps always hires on extra hands for the start of the social season." She began, looking up at Foruchenault.

"I was going to bed--and then all of a sudden, the House Steward comes into the servant's quarters. He goes about--knocking on certain doors, getting people out of bed--and telling them to head up upstairs, and bring blankets, do it all quiet-like and hush hush. I won't lie, I got curious about what was going on. I followed the group out of the house to the chocobo stables--and that's when I saw them."

"Them?" Fourchenault prompted.

"Lady Fortemps, the Bishops, Ser Astralyas--the lot of them. And they looked as if they'd been through all the seven hells! The Lady in particular..." The maid trailed off, shaking her head.

"She was bone thin. Her clothes were hanging off her. She could barely walk. The old count had to scoop her up into his arms. Count Artoirel was helping the older Bishop--and two burly men were carrying the younger Bishop and Ser Astralyas. They covered them up with blankets and hurried them in through the servant's entrance into the main house. Next day we're told that one of the guest-wings is off limits, said there was some sort of accident that needed repair-work."

"And nobody questioned this?" Fourchenault asked.

"There were sommant who got curious, but there wasn't time to question. The Season keeps you busy--but I do know know those same servants were the ones that'd go in and out of that wing with trays full of food and medication for battle-mind. Lots of it."

"Battle-mind?"

"I know what the tisanes and potions for battle-mind look and smell like." The hyur countered. "Cook had their hands full-fixing meals for the visiting nobles--and brewing up those remedies. I heard them curse out the House Steward when he offered to get them help. Said she didn't trust any outsiders not to poison the Lady and her brothers." Fourchenault didn't immediately respond, his mind racing.

"How long did this go on for?"

"A month. One day they just showed up in the main hall--acting as if they'd just come from somewhere. They looked better, but the Lady Fortemps was still on the thin side, and there wasn't any sign of Ser Galedancer." The hyur carefully looked around, and then leaned in closer to Fourchenault.

"There was a rumor going around that he'd gone on pilgrimage to St. Reinette. Nobody saw him until at least a few months later."

"Pilgrimage to St. Reinette?"

"When there's a dragoon...that's got a curse." The maid said slowly. "Used to kill them off, but now they ship them out of the city. Keep them with the Dravanians to calm them down and return them to normal.

"I see." Fourchenault mused. This wasn't the information he'd been looking for, but it was useful. There had been a noticeable gap of at least two months in one of the Scions' reports regarding their initial return from the First. It seemed that the battle with Emet-Selch had been more brutal than Riven and the others had let on.

"Do you remember anything else, anything at all that..." Fourchenault trailed off, trying to figure out how to phrase it.

"Anything that sticks out in your mind regarding the Lady Fortemps and her brothers that...just sounded stranger than their norm? If you heard anything, saw anything else?" The hyuran woman frowned, putting a hand to her chest in thought.

"...There's naught much more that I can think of." She said. "But..."

"But?" Fourchenault encouraged.

"Have you gone asking around by the star-seers?" The woman asked. "Rumors were that the Lady Fortemps had quite a lot of business there."

"The astrologians." Fourchenault breathed. "No. I have not. I will make that my next avenue of inquiry." When he could, anyway. For now, he had to leave Ishgard and return to his duties at the Forum.

------

(un)Catagorized [i]

[cinisemperium]

💚 SHIPPING INFO 💚

ANSWER THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR MUSES SO PEOPLE KNOW HOW SHIPPING WORKS ON YOUR BLOG.

Tagged by: no one, i stole it

Tagging: anyone who wants to yoink this, be my guest!

1. WHAT IS YOUR OTP FOR YOUR CHARACTER(S)?

whoo boy i have a lot of muses so here we go. will be listed in alphabetical order by fandom. putting a read more here because it's A LOT

side note - i ship with just about anyone. just because it isn't my OTP does not mean i'm not interested!

Apex Legends Wattson - Darksparks. I adore this ship so much.

Arcane Jinx - I don't really ship her with anyone, but if I had to pick, I'd go with Ekko

Darling in the Franxx Zero Two - Hiro, obviously. Hiro - See above.

DA:I Solas - Female Lavellan

Fairy Tail Natsu Dragneel - It's a tie between Gray and Lucy Yukine Dragneel ( OC ) - Grey

FFXIV Emet - Selch / Hades - @starsasunder 's WoL, Inanna. If not a WoL, then Hyth

Fullmetal Alchemist Edward Elric - Winry

Genshin Aether - Xiao Cyno - Tignhari Kokomi - Gorou Lumine - Zhongli Xiao - Aether

MHA Shoto Todoroki - OT3, actually, with Katsuki and Izuku Toga Himiko - Ochako Dabi - Hawks Rumi Usagiyama - I actually don't have one for her yet!

Naruto Naruto Uzumaki - Sasuke Sasuke Uchiha - Naruto Sakura Haruno - Naruto

Oshi no Ko Ai Hoshino - I don't have one for her. Aqua Hoshino - Kana Kana Arima - Aqua

Overwatch Widowmaker - hahahaah have fun shipping with the murderous one Lifeweaver - Baptiste

2. HOW LARGE DOES THE AGE GAP HAVE TO BE TO MAKE IT UNCOMFORTABLE?

That depends on a lot of factors, including the muse ( like for example Emet Selch is thousands of years old ), and the verse ( such as vampires, reincarnation, etc. ). I will NOT, however, do any form of NSFW shipping with minors, and I will not ship minors with adults. I will ship teenage characters, but that will all be kept strictly SFW.

3. HOW FAR DO STEAMY MOMENTS HAVE TO GO BEFORE THEY ARE CONSIDERED NSFW?

Anything that goes beyond gentle kissing and light touching.

4. ARE YOU SELECTIVE WHEN SHIPPING?

I used to be, but not anymore. You wanna ship? Throw it at me. NOt sure I'll go for it? Throw it at me anyway.

5. WHO ARE OTHER CHARACTERS YOU SHIP YOUR CHARACTER WITH?

I'm open to shipping anyone with just about anyone, provided we can make it make sense.

6. DOES ONE HAVE TO ASK TO SHIP WITH YOU?

Sort of? I consider throwing a shippy meme at me asking. If I'm down for it ( and chances are I will be ), I'll reply to it and off we go.

7. ARE YOU SHIP OBSESSED OR SHIP MORE-OR-LESS?

Yes and no, to both. I adore shipping, don't get me wrong. I think ships area great way to explore characters and their growth and depth. However, I do not think a plot needs a ship to be a good plot. I'm more of a if it happens then it happens kind of shipper.

8. WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE SHIP IN YOUR CURRENT FANDOM?

Naruto and Sasuke, Natsu and Gray, Zero Two and Hiro. I will write these ships all day long, any day of the week.

9. FINALLY, HOW DOES ONE SHIP WITH YOU?

Hop into my inbox! Whether that be my DMs with a plot hook or even just 'hey can we ship', or my inbox with a shippy meme. Throw it at me and we'll see where it goes!

[atdutiesend]

{ hello darlings! because I believe in curating your space and making sure you know what you're signing up for, here, I want to give everyone a heads up about my april fools "prank' muse. I'm putting it under a cut if you'd like to remain unspoilered, but for anyone who would appreciate a heads up, keep reading! I'm including the tag I intend to use for anyone who'd like to block it - and if you need to temporarily unfollow, be assured that any unresolved threads will be moved to discord to make sure the blog is safe after April 1st. }

Keywords, if you don't want it to be explicit:

Consensual Possession/Body Sharing

Ascian

Bad Ending

Explicitly spelling it out:

Guest muse is Emet-Selch possessing Dove, consensually. This is a Post-Shadowbringers "Bad Ending." Their respective corruptions balance them both out, leaving Emet untempered within Dove, and Dove's light poisoning healed thanks to his overwhelming darkness.

[flowerwept]

@antipyre said:  ✍️ + would you beat my head in if i told you to try emet-selch

Time has worn down much of Hades over the years / he’s not stupid, he knows that, but duty has chased Emet-Selch to the ends of the earth and he’d be damned if he stopped here. He sits on some stairs in a faux Amaurot of his own recollection, hands clasped neatly in front of him, and he would look more like the emperor he is supposed to be were it not for the way his shoulders sag / some kind of wounded Atlas.

“Are you lost?”  A shade says to him, not recognizing his soul--obviously, because a shade is a shade. Emet-Selch stares back at it, trying to recall who this had been, had he known them personally, and there is preservation in action and all that.  “Do you need help finding your parents?”

“ ‘Am I lost,’ “ Emet-Selch mutters to himself disdainfully, and he can’t help rolling his eyes--he knows this place better than anyone, but it was still just a fraction of the original Amaurot, and it pains him to think of the streets and halls that went unremembered or, worse, the people who gathered on those streets. Don’t worry -- I swear I will bring you back. This is my duty. My purpose. My love.  “No, you waste your time with such fears.”  He gets up and the weight of a thousand years settles into his shoulders. The shade looks at him, its shape wavering. Clearly this was the end of the conversation.  “After we reclaim the star and you have been brought back I will apologize to you more properly.”  The real you, though Emet-Selch dare not say it. He smiles at the wayward simulacra of his own invention and then saunters down the stairs and into Norvrandt’s depths.

“I suppose I shall have to pay the hero a visit sooner rather than later,”  he goes on muttering to himself as he walks, eyes tracing every nook and cranny of Amaurot, every cracked stone, every window frame. All of it. I REMEMBER.  “I can’t let them get too comfortable...or think that I’d gone and forgotten about them.”  He would rather die than forget.  “There’s too much unsaid. Can’t risk them dying before all that.”  But would anyone believe him if he told him how beautiful the sun looked when it cut across the Amaurot skyline? Well--if they didn’t, Emet-Selch would just kill them. He’s grown used to that.

[tornscale]

@kinships​

“Did they really think that would be a good idea?” He huffed as he listened to this stranger go on about their ‘world’ or their home, whatever it was. Some of it was fanciful, some of it eccentric, and other parts...downright infuriating.

“I do hope they’re not all as stupid as that, right?”

[eliniei]

Not As It Seems Part XV - Emet-Selch x Warrior of Light

Summary: As the Warrior of Light prepares her haunted house for All Saint's Wake, she takes a moment to teach Emet-Selch how to carve a pumpkin.

Word Count: 1840

Masterlist: here Ao3: here

----

I walked through the door of my house carrying two large pumpkins under my arms. After kicking the door closed with my foot, I set them both down on the dining table, Emet-Selch watching me from a plush chair in the corner with a raised brow.

I put my hands on my hips as I peered over at him from across the table.

“Yes?” I inquired and he lifted a brow. “You have that look on your face.” He tilted his head to the side, one side of his mouth tugging upward.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, my dear hero,” he said, a slight chuckle in his voice. I shook my head at him and hung it with a sigh.

“Thousands of years old and I still have to teach you things,” I mused. When I lifted my head again, I motioned towards the pumpkins. “They’re for carving,” I informed him. He lounged back in the chair, crossing one leg over the other and steepled his fingers, expecting me to continue. I rolled my eyes and instead of explaining further, went to the kitchen, looking for my knife set.

When I returned, I set the utensils onto the table and looked back up at the Ascian.

“Well, come on,” I ordered. “You’re going to help me.” He scoffed, not deigning to move.

“I am, am I?” he asked me, his usual smirk appearing on his face. I huffed and crossed my arms.

“I didn’t get a two for myself,” I shot back. We stared at each other for a few long moments, both of us stubborn and unrelenting.

Finally, I pursed my lips and walked over to him. I curled my fingers around his arm and tugged. “Come on,” I reiterated. “You’re a guest in my house, if you’ve forgotten.”

Finally, he gave in to my wishes and shrugged his shoulders, dramatic as always.

“Oh fine,” he sighed and sat up in the chair. “I suppose I can humor you for a while longer.”

“Oh,” I started, sarcasm dripping from my words. I leaned down, close to his face, a sly smile on my mouth. “Well, thank you. How generous you are, my dear Ascian.” He breathed a laugh and took my chin in one hand, pressing a long, sweet kiss to my lips.

When he pulled away, his expression was smug. “I know,” he whispered. I shook my head again and pulled away to allow him the room to stand.

When he had, he put a hand on the small of my back and led me back to the table. “Now, hero, would you be so kind as to explain what exactly I’m helping you with?”

“As part of the decorations for the Wake, it’s customary to carve pumpkins,” I elaborated.

“Carve...what?”

“Well, generally…” I put my hand to my chin. “Whatever you want, really, though it’s usually supposed to be spooky.”

I watched as he considered my words, eyes focusing on the pumpkins.

“Alright,” he said, finally. “I’ll play along.”

With a smug, triumphant look, I picked up one of my smaller knives and sat down, turning one of the large fruits towards me. The Ascian began sliding his gloves off his hand as he took a seat at the head of the table.

I started cutting a circle around the stem, ignoring as Emet-Selch watched me with no short of unmasked fascination. I took the top off scraped the tendrils of pulp off of the inside before setting it aside. I looked at the few seeds in my hand and pursed my lips.

“Could you...summon me a bowl? I forgot to get one.” He huffed a laugh, but snapped his fingers, one of my own appearing on the table between our pumpkins. With a smile, I dropped the seeds into the bowl and looked at him expectantly.

“Go on, then,” I ordered. “Cut a lid like I did so we can put a candle in it later and scoop out the innards. Make sure to save the seeds.”

“For?”

“We’re going to bake them and eat them.” His brows shot up in surprise as I plunged my arm inside the hole I’d just cut and lifted a handful of pulp and seeds out. He looked down at his pumpkin again and snapped. Instantly, there was a hole in the top, the seeds separated from the pulp, both in separate, neat piles on the table.

I rolled my eyes at him with a sigh. “No, absolutely not.”

He sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “And why not?”

“This is one of those things you have to do with your hands. You can’t cheat.” With a huff and a shake of his head, he snapped again, the pumpkin returning to normal, then shrugged out of his overcoat and rolled his sleeved up.

“Fine, then. The mortal way.” He reached across the table and picked up one of my knives, then set to work.

We both sat in silence as we worked, our knives passing through the fruit the only sound between the two of us.

After a long while, I set my knife down with a content smile, inspecting my work, then went to stand behind the Ascian to watch.

“Don’t watch too closely, my dear warrior, or I’ll develop performance anxiety,” he said, amusement in his voice. I breathed a laugh and wrapped my arms loosely around his neck, leaning into his back.

“Wouldn’t that be a shame?” I whispered into his ear. He hummed his approval as I pressed a kiss to the skin under his ear. He leaned his head back against my collarbone in response and looked up at me, amber eyes examining my face.

“Must you be so tempting? I am trying to do as you asked, you know.” A sly grin crossed my mouth.

“Tempting, am I? Maybe that was the point.” I heaved a dramatic sigh. “But fine, since you are so insistent, I won’t divert your attention any longer.” I glanced at his pumpkin, then, and paused. “Isn’t-isn’t this your mask?”

“Yes. It seemed rather…’spooky’, as you put it.”

“Hmm,” I hummed thoughtfully, as I inspected the design. “For your first pumpkin, this is pretty good.”

“You’ll find I’m good at a great many things, hero,” he retorted, his tone smug. I breathed a laugh, then reached for the bowl of seeds and stood up straight.

“Arrogant as always, I see.” I shook my head, my lips tugging upward. “Are you finished?”

The Ascian looked back at his pumpkin with a tilted head and a hand to his chin, examining his work. With a shrug, he nodded and leaned his head against the back of the chair to look up at me, his gold eyes languid, but almost glowing. “I suppose.”

I lifted a brow in response as his hair tumbled back with the movement of his head in an entirely distracting way.

“Now who’s being tempting?” I asked, leaning over him again. With a smirk, he lifted his head, his lips meeting mine for a moment before laying it back on the chair again.

“Maybe that was the point,” he shot back at me, reusing my own words. I rolled my eyes with an exasperated sigh and shook the bowl, the pumpkin seeds shuffling around inside.

“Alright,” I said with finality. “Onto the seeds.” I moved away from him and started for the kitchen.

“Didn’t you mention something about candles?” Emet-Selch asked me. I paused and turned again, finding him twisted around the look at me, still seated. I held one finger up.

“All in good time, my dear Ascian . First, we bake the seeds.”

When we entered the kitchen, I set him to work turning the oven on and finding a sheet pan while I went to the faucet and washed the seeds. I laid them out on a towel to dry them, then put them back in the bowl.

He set the pan on the counter next to me, then wound his hands around my waist, chin resting on my shoulder, as he watched me reach for the olive oil and salt. I smiled as he pressed himself against my back and tossed the seeds in the bowl with both ingredients.

I placed the pan in front of me and spread them across its surface, making sure none overlapped.

“Is the oven ready?” I asked him as I separate seeds. He lifted his head to look back.

“I believe so,” he answered, then released my waist so that I could slide them inside.

“How long?” When I stood straight again, I looked at the clock to note the time, then grabbed one of his hands.

“About half an hour. Back to sticking crepe to the crown molding,” I said with a grin. He huffed and rolled his eyes, but followed me without a fight, wrapping his hand around mine as we walked.

A while later, as the sun set over Eorzea, I pulled the pan out of the oven and moved them to a shallow bowl. With it in hand, I grabbed two small candles from a drawer and went back to the dining table.

Emet-Selch placed the pumpkins side-by-side so their designs faced us. I set my bowl down and reached into the pumpkins, setting the candles inside each, then using a fire spell to light them. He sat down in one of the chairs and watched as I placed the lids on them.

“Turn out the light, would you?” I asked him, picking the bowl up again and placing another chair next to his.

The Ascian snapped and the lights in the entire house extinguished. I smiled, sitting back in my chair as the orange light in the pumpkins shone with an intensity against the dark of the room and tossed a couple of seeds in my mouth.

I offered the bowl to him, and he took a few, inspecting them first, and then popped them in his mouth. He leaned against me as he chewed, watching the fire flicker, casting shadows on us.

“This is acceptable, I suppose,” he said. I breathed a laugh and laid my head on his shoulder. His arm came around me, holding me tight.

“Admit it,” I started, unable to keep the chuckle from my voice. “You had fun.” He was quiet for a few long seconds before sighing.

“Perhaps a small amount.”

With a snap of his fingers, the fireplace in the room beyond lit. He nudged me to prompt me to sit up, then stood.

“Come, hero,” he said, holding his hand out. “Let’s go sit by the fire and you can tell me more about your strange customs and traditions.”

I shook my head, my lips tugging upward, but slid my fingers into his and he pulled me up. As he made his way to the other room, I blew the candles out, then made to follow, the bowl of seeds tucked under my arm.

[smitten-miqitten]

Questions Upon Questions

In which Era finds a certain unwelcome guest familiar.

“If your aim is to kill me by boring a hole through my head with your gaze, I can assure you it will not work”, drawled the entirely unenthused voice of Emet-Selch, the group’s resident unwelcome Ascian.

Era startled. She hadn’t actually been looking at him, rather staring off into the distance that so happened to be his general direction. Though, admittedly it was a stray thought regarding the Ascian that spurred her distracted musing.

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to…I wasn’t looking at you.” She shook her head frustratedly, having lost her train of thought.

“Oh, something of interest behind me then?” he turned to look, full knowing there was nothing of the sort. For a person claiming to desire cooperation, his attitude left quite a lot to be desired, Era thought. “Ah, nothing but trees, trees, and …what’s that? More trees”.  His sheer boredom was evident. The group had been resting in Fanow prior to exploring the Qitania Ravel, and he had made it quite plain that nothing could be more dull than their conversation.

“No, I was just thinking…”

“An activity you partake in? Color me surprised”

“Do you have to be so rude?! I was thinking that I recognized you from somewhere, but now I rather hope that is not the case!” That he could get such a rise out of her had her troubled. Era was not the hot headed type.

“Surely you’d know if you did… ah, but you’re amnesiac, aren’t you?”

“Been spying on my conversations with Minfilia then?”

“Of course.” He gave her a pointed look. What else would he have been doing?

“As your friend pointed out upon our first meeting, anyone who’s read a book will have seen my face. You can read, can’t you?” Era glared at him, causing him to smirk. This was fun. He continued, “Or perhaps you were a conscript. I believe they’re all given some education in Garlean history.” He shrugged. Not that any of that was his concern anymore.

“Cid already thought of that, since I knew how to pilot a magitech. But I didn’t know the salute, so it’s pretty unlikely. I didn’t forget how  to do things, just how I learned them. Besides, it’s not your face that seems familiar. Your voice? No.. it’s not that either…” She rested her chin on her knuckles, thinking.

“If you cannot discern how I am familiar, would it not stand to reason that you’re simply imagining it? I’m quite certain I’ve never seen you before.” Not like this, anyway. His eyes narrowed.

“I’m not! But… bah, it’s no use. You’re less than helpful, you know that?” She shook her head, and made to walk away to somewhere less full of ego and pretension. Gods, this man made her so angry, and she had no idea why. She’d always been able to brush off snide comments, a benefit of her dulled emotional responses. Yet with him it felt as if they argued like this whenever they spoke, which made no sense at all seeing as they had rarely had any sort of prolonged conversation. “You’ve always been like this, you…!” She began, words spilling from her mouth unbidden, raising her voice but stopping abruptly, doubling over in pain as she clutched at her forehead, a sharp headache feeling as if it would split her skull wide.

With a snap of his fingers, he rendered her unconscious, fast asleep. Whatever the cause of her sudden pains, it would not do for her companions to see her in such a state around him, lest he lose their newfound, highly tentative trust.  He caught her as she collapsed, propping her up against a wall as if she had been set upon by a sudden urge for a nap. Had this pitiful, tattered mockery of Her truly begun to remember? They always seemed to recognize him somewhat, but never before had one quoted Her….Would that it had been a more pleasant quote… No. Surely it had just been a coincidence. Her soul was nowhere near complete. If she could contain the light of all five lightwardens, then perhaps he could believe it.

Did he dare to hope?

[atdutiesend]

{ Thesprotia Lore Drop}

Thesprotia is the body garden serving greater Amaurot. It stands as both a morbid counterpart to Elpis, and the closest thing Amaurot tolerates to a lichyard. After a soul is guided on by Emet-Selch, the mortal remains are relinquished to Thesprotia for their final service to the star - to be turned into soil.

The Public Gardens are a large complex of, literally, gardens. Maintained by the Words of Halmarut and Altima, they are often said to be the most beautiful gardens in the world. Any citizen, or even traveler, may visit the Public Gardens to pay their respects to those who have finished their work.

Beyond the Gardens is a building massive even by Amaurotine standards. It is here the bodies are delivered and tended to, and the domain only of the Words of Emet-Selch and their guests. The work here is considered highly spiritual in polite conversation, and terribly morbid in blunter terms. Bodies are dissected and disassembled, prepared for the mulching beyond. Those who choose to allow the study of their body after death are preserved, waiting delivery to the Office of Emmerololth.

Beyond the building are the Private Gardens, a vast enclosure walled off from the public eye. It is here the decomposition of creations are studied, in far more depth than the researchers of Elpis can afford. Only the hardiest of souls venture here, wary of carrion-eater and predator alike - after all, what point would there be to ignore the cycle of life in the garden of death?

Phobos has been the head of Thesprotia for a very long time - for the average Amautotine, for all of living memory. Exactly how long this in is highly subjective due to muse lore, but he is at the least meant to be older than Venat. No one is entirely certain what he considers his great work that he sees as yet being undone... But one thing is certain. He was one of the few citizens barred from sacrificing himself for Zodiark, due to his position.

[atdutiesend]

Dove wrapped their arms around him, pressing close to his back to give him some warmth.

Y'shtola knelt in front of him and offered him a hand. "Will you let us help you, help them?" She doesn't say how, exactly, but she's aware the tempering might prevent him from agreeing to de-tempering. If he just knows they're trying to help him, though, they can be far more open as they go about it.

"I believe you already know the answer to that question." Emet stated as he took the cantina. He downed what was left in it. The Ascian leaned against Dove as his eyes fluttered. It wasn't long before he was shivering again.

[atdutiesend]

"I am, yes." Dove had to look away, both to keep from laughing at Thancred's expression and because they had been trying to eat. "And he did just." Dove nodded.

Y'shtola tapped a knuckle against her cheek, still watching Emet, and tilted her head towards Alisaie. "The mixture isn't dissipating, though we'll want to dispose of it before it has a chance to, but yes. He's pulled the Light out of them, and doing so is pulling the darkness from him. Which has fascinating implications, assuming he can survive the process." She's keeping a careful eye on him now, ready to step in and offer healing if it seems needed.

" She should be and so am I. Which means it's time....." Emet roomed one of his gloves and touched her bare arm. The Ascian sucked a bit more if the light out of her only stopping when he knew he couldn't handle it anymore. Once he stop he turned and puked all over Thancred feet.

"By the Twelve, the fuck is this?!?" The white hairs male cursed. What was the horrible white and purple liquid he was puking up? Was it some Ascian truck?

"Y'Stolla, did he just..." Alisie trailed off and went over to the Ascian. He was still puking even as Thancred backed away pissed off.