#hanging out in aetheryte plazas as well

[nivienne-grovant]

Junelezen Day 7 - Boat

All aboard!

Did you know that on Zalera we usually call them Hunt Boats? no idea why, but I think it's charming

[myreia]

Sketches of Times Lost

Day 18: Hackneyed

thancred attempts to confess his feelings. it does not go as planned. thancred x wol, pre-relationship. asexual wol. set during arr. written for ffxivwrite2024. rated: general 1868 words ao3 link

There is a plan in mind, he’s not ashamed of that.

He has thought about it for weeks. Months, if he’s honest. Pulling and tugging on the threads of what if and when, imagined scenarios chasing themselves around his mind in varying shades of… well. Romantic, he would call it. He has never fully thought of himself as a romantic in earnest before, though some of his past lovers would have called him such. But there is a certain panache to the word, a sense, an atmosphere, that he finds compelling. Especially where Aureia is concerned.

It still surprises him that he is falling for her, his friend. Perhaps the closest friend he has ever allowed himself to have. She has witnessed him at his worst and at his best—the small triumphs, the overwhelming losses, pain and grief and joy. He has made a complete fool of himself in front of her more than once, sometimes in small trivial ways, other times less so. The time he spouted improvised poetry at a dancer in the Quicksand. How hard he tried to impress Yugiri Mistwalker when the shinobi joined their cause.

His butchering of the situation with Ifrit. His possession by an Ascian. Other moments he would rather not say.

He did not want to admit it at first. It would be easier for both of them if he did not feel the way he did. He knows better than anyone that romantic entanglements are best kept at arm’s length, far away from the goings on of the Scions. They are a weak spot. An exploit. A risk. He kept his distance from her after the Praetorium for this very reason, resisting the ache growing in his heart with every passing day by falling back on hold habits. Drinking more in the hopes of ignoring it. Distracting himself with a rather impressive list of paramours.

He has a sneaking suspicion Urianger has taken note and this will come back to bite him in the arse.

It took Moenbryda walloping him over the head—metaphorically, of course—with a disarming comment to make him realize how foolish he was being.

“You know what your problem is, Thancred? You’re too busy looking ten feet ahead for one problem or another to notice the blessing that is right in front of you.”

He never thanked her for that. It’s too late now.

Perhaps that’s why he has come to his decision. Moenbryda’s death sits heavy in their hearts, forcing them all to stare the fleetingness of life in the face. She seized hers with joy and fearlessness, hanging on to nothing. It’s time he did the same.

And so he has to do it right.

Aureia lets out a whoop as she springs up the rest of the stairs, racing him to the top. She reaches the battlements first, face flushed, hair a mess, ruby eyes sparkling, and spins around to face him as he follows suit. “Look at that,” she says, raising her hands in triumph. “I win.”

He chuckles, panting lightly, and sweeps his hair out of his eyes. “Was it a race?” he replies, leaning casually against the battlements. “I hadn’t noticed.”

She rolls her eyes and continues down the path, trailing her fingers across the coarse stonework. Mor Dhona stretches out before them, bright as the stars above. Lanterns float through the square, warming the aetheryte’s cool brilliance with their golden glow, illuminating the flowing crowds below. Further up the hill, the market bustles with activity, late night vendors selling trinkets and baubles, and people stumbling from Rowena’s café with drinks in hand. Adventurers loiter on the steps to the Seventh Heaven, carousing loudly. A group of dancers giggle with glee, moving merrily in rhythm to a drum as a trio of bards fill the plaza with their music.

All in all, it is a good night for festivities. Bright, clear, and only a hint of gloam.

Aureia hums to herself, folding her arms and leaning out over the parapet. She may be quiet in a crowd and shy away from the centre of attention, but she loves being around people. Immersing herself in the rhythms of a city, captivated by the pulse of life and the vibrancy of it all. It’s one of the things he finds endlessly fascinating about her, this paradox of extroversion and introversion.

“I wonder where Gerolt went,” she says after a moment, squinting as she scans the plaza. Her hair trails in the breeze and falls about her face. She pushes it back idly, twisting it around her finger, and knots it at the top of her head. Shorter pieces fall away, brushing across the nape of her neck. “He all but paled and ran for the hills when he saw Rowena earlier.”

“Perhaps he did run for the literal hills. I wouldn’t blame him if he did.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Oh? And here I thought you had no thoughts on the illustrious lady of the House of Splendours.”

He chokes. “No,” he says, a little strangled. “I don’t. Did you have to put it quite like that?”

“What? House of Splendours or illustrious lady?” She glances at him and grins. “If it’s the former, take it up with Rowena, she’s the one who named it.”

He catches her eye, regarding her in silence. His gaze lingers on her face, her hair, the way the silver studs in her upper ear catch the lanternlight. She hasn’t changed much since he met her. There is perhaps a touch of severity around her jaw and creases in the corners of her eyes, but she is still as vibrant as the spells she once cast. It seems so long ago that she stumbled into his life, and yet he has known many others for longer.

Much can happen over the course of two years.

“What?” Aureia says, eyes wide.

He says nothing, smiling quietly. If he could tell her now that she is beautiful, he would. He can’t remember when he first had that thought. Perhaps he’s always thought it.

Music wafts over them, slow and gentle.

Thancred pushes off the wall and gives her a mock little bow, extending his hand. “Would you have this dance, milady?” he says.

She pauses, a little laugh humming on her lips. “What are you doing?”

“Inviting you to dance.”

“Interesting.” She takes a step towards him, her chin raised archly. “You know I don’t dance.”

He straightens and steps into her. “I think you will tonight.”

“Do you remember what happened the last time you asked me to dance?”

“I’ve never asked you to.” His hand brushes his arm. She doesn’t move away. “I seem to remember that the dance I supposedly asked you to join me in was a sparring match where you routing me so thoroughly I don’t think my ego has recovered.”

She gazes at him, her eyes alight with joy. “Your poor ego.”

“Terribly bruised, you see.”

“If that’s so, why risk it again? I’ll only thrash you a second time.”

He chuckles and leans in, his lips a hair’s breath from her ear. “Because I am not asking you to spar, Aureia darling,” he says. The word slips out unexpectedly. He has never called her darling before. Too soon? Too late? He doesn’t care. Even a small deviation cannot ruin this night. “Dance with me.”

She hesitates, frozen for the briefest of moments. In the space between breaths, he wonders if she will pull away—it’s a delicate thing, this line they walk, and she has as much to lose as he does. But sometimes the risk is worth it. He can only hope she can see it, too.

Aureia slips her hand into his. “Fine,” she says at last. “One dance.”

“Only one?”

“Just one.”

He sweeps her into his arms and they dance.

The music washes over them and they move as one, fumbling their steps and knocking against each other. At last they find a compromise, gently swaying together as they turn on the spot, his hand on her waist, her head against his shoulder. Together they watch the plaza below, sparkling with light and life.

How is it that the simplest things are always the most difficult to say?

“Aur?” he murmurs.

She raises her head. “Yes?”

Her hair has untwisted from its knot, now falling loosely about her shoulders. Twelve above, she is gorgeous. If he is about to admit what he wants to—what he needs to—then there is no better time to do so than now.

Thancred presses a hand to her cheek and leans in close.

She inhales sharply and turns her head.

He pauses. “I…”

Aureia lets go of his hands and pulls away, staring determinedly at the plaza below, her jaw clenched. “I don’t know what you’re doing, Thancred, but I think you have a very, very wrong idea about me,” she says.

He frowns, too taken aback to feel the hurt he knows will come later. “I—Aureia. Are you… upset?”

“Hells, yes!” She rounds on him, red eyes blazing. “I am mad at you. I am so very, very mad at you—”

“I thought—”

“You thought what? You’ve barely spoken to me since Moenbryda’s death. I thought this was going to be a time for us to talk, not…” She makes a face. “You are trying to seduce me, aren’t you.”

He sighs, passing a hand across his face. “Assuredly not, no.”

“Then what is this? Bringing me up here on a pretty night, asking me to dance, staging this scene like some hackneyed plot you pulled out of a bard’s—ugh.” She rolls her eyes and storms across the battlements. “I’m not interested in all this. I thought you would have at least caught on to that by now.”

He follows her, keeping a careful distance as they tromp down the stairs. “On to what? My apologies, but I do not follow—”

“You’re going to make me come out and say it, aren’t you?” She hits the bottom landing and turns around, arms folded protectively across her chest. “I don’t… want that. Any of that. I never have. I never will.”

“Any of what?” To his surprise, the sting of rejection has not come yet. Perhaps because he doesn’t quite understand what she is rejecting him from. “Aureia, if I have done something so terribly offensive to you, please tell me. I will listen.”

“You’re not the first to have told me that, and yet I’ve yet to meet someone who understands.” She gives him a flat look, her mouth twisting as if she is trying to hold back tears. He has never seen her quite so furious yet vulnerable. “Tell me honestly, would you be happy being with me if I said I never wanted to sleep with you?”

He blinks. Of all the questions she could have asked, this is one he has never thought of.

She spreads her hands and drops them to her sides, as if his silence has proved a point he didn’t know he was making. “And there’s your answer,” she says and vanishes into the night.

[fairygodpiggy]

Ride The Tide is this Saturday!

June 1, 2024 from 6 - 10pm EST

Primal

Leviathan

Costa del Sol

We'll also be hosting a massive giveaway at the end of the festival!

So hang around and join us at The Aetheryte Plaza's Discord to enter for a chance to win one of 75+ prizes!

(winners must have an active XIV subscription in order to receive traded in-game items)

Check out all the festivities, music, and contest sign up sheets, as well as an interactive map at ridethetide2024.carrd.co

[keicordelle]

Chapter 15 of A First for Everything, For the Weary, is up on Ao3! Minfilia's first time in the Crystarium, and Thanuri's first time out in public as a couple <3

Read it on Ao3 at the link above, or check out the first chapter on Tumblr here.

-

"Woah..." The soft breath of wonder she let out was perhaps the most sincere emotion Urianger had ever heard from Minfilia. In truth, he could hardly blame her for it. The Crystarium was no less stunning for having visited it before. Dazzling crystal ceilings and intricate wrought iron filigree arched overheard, twisting the blazing Light into something beautiful rather than an oppressive reminder of what this world had lost. Even distant as they were from the city’s heart, people bustled about the square: Zun and Drahn and Ronso all mingling with the more familiar Humes and Elves. Even the occasional leonine-eared Viis milled about, on their way to whatever business occupied the citizens of this crystalline stronghold.

Thancred's eyes sparkled just as much as his charge’s as he looked around the bright cityscape. He hid it when he caught Urianger looking, mellowing back into his usual sharp-edged joviality. A twinge of regret panged through Urianger at its loss, even as he cherished the smile Thancred shot him. "So, where to first?"

"’Twould be nice to take this opportunity to see the sights of the city," Urianger said, gaze sliding towards Minfilia and her wide-eyed wonder. "Long hath it been since last I set foot within the Crystarium; ‘twould be good to refamiliarize myself with it."

Thancred followed his gaze, the smile on his lips softening to see his charge so enchanted by the city. "Alright, a tour it is."

And so they wandered, ambling up the length of the elaborate stone paths and back, wherever their feet and hearts took them. Minfilia was nervous at first, hanging back at their sides and staring with equal parts amazement and trepidation at all the people who moved around them, but as morning stretched into noon, her curiosity won out over her nerves. Thancred and Urianger let her take the lead, drawing them along in the wake of her innocence as she weaved through the streets and courtyards of the Crystarium.

She paused in the Aetheryte Plaza, staring up at the massive, thrumming crystal as if she could hear the pulse of the lifestream beyond it. Surely it was not the first time she had seen one, but that did not lessen its magnificence, and Urianger found himself staring up at it anew as well, admiring as if for the first time the way the light scintillated and caught on its rough-edged beauty. Thancred drew up alongside him, the back of his hand brushing accidentally against Urianger’s fingers where he stood at his side, but when Urianger looked over at him, it was not the crystal he watched, but Minfilia. It was a more peaceful look than he'd ever seen Thancred direct towards her before. As if for once, perhaps for the first time, he saw her not as the Oracle of Light and fragment of his lost friend, but as a young girl in her own right, full of wonder and curiosity and ipseity all her own.

It was easy to see her as such here, far from the realities of her position and the constant fear of discovery and capture. Here, she was simply a teenage girl, as easily swayed by cute animals and charming shop displays as any other. The three of them wandered where her whim took them, be that out to the stables to admire the great flocks of amaro, or down through the tangled twists of corridors that seemed to house botanical research and other such facilities.

She paused before the verdant display of perennials in their carefully maintained beds, and at her inquiry, Urianger told her all that he knew about their cultivation requirements and alchemical benefits. She nodded along eagerly, asking pointed questions that betrayed genuine interest, and when Urianger had exhausted his knowledge of botany, Thancred reappeared at his side with a small pink blossom in hand. He stepped forward to tuck it behind her ear, a bright splash of color to match the ribbon on the other side.

Almost as well as it matched the color that flushed across her cheeks. She reached up to touch it, fingers gentle so as not to knock it free. "Mr. Thancred..."

Thancred looked away, his ears a chagrined red. "It looks good on you. And it's just Thancred."

Her answering smile made his awkward embarrassment all worth it. She deserved to have a few good memories to look back on, amidst all the turmoil. "Thank you."

Thancred jerked his chin down the hall as they were leaving, towards the towering double doors that stood at its far end. "Shouldn't you go get your books?"

That was why they were there, but... "I shall collect them later. 'Twould be needlessly troublesome to carry them around with us." And more than that, he was loath to cut short this time spent freely with Thancred and Minfilia. As well-suited as she seemed to be to the city's delights, Thancred was all the more so. Thancred was a man of the city, through and through. He thrived in the bustle and the connection, his finger always firmly placed on its beating pulse. How long had it been since last he'd been so in his element? It was a delight to watch him as he slipped into the crowds, chatting animatedly with every friendly citizen and crowing stallkeep who sought their attention. His eyes remained alert despite his relaxed posture, but the smile on his face seemed true: casual and relaxed, every bit as home here as Urianger was in his secluded study. And perhaps it was selfish of him, but Urianger wished to watch him like that for a little while longer.

Thancred just shrugged, familiar by now with Urianger’s eccentricities. Or maybe it was that he too was reluctant to cut their day short, when it was the first chance they'd had in so long to mingle amongst other people. To pretend to be normal: just two men and their young charge, wandering the streets of the Crystarium. "Whatever you say." His gaze strayed back to Minfilia, the soft smile on her face spreading to his as he watched her chat with the resident botanist. "Let's head over to the markets then. I think she'd like it there."

They paused on the way before a stall that smelled of honey and sugar. A handful of coins later, Thancred returned with three sticky donuts. He handed them over with a grin, tipping the edge of his against Urianger’s in a pantomime of cheers before shoving the whole thing in his mouth.

Warmth bloomed in Urianger’s chest, bubbling free in laughter as they wandered through the Musica Universalis, licking sticky sweetness from their fingers and admiring the flashy stalls and glittering displays. Minfilia stuck close to their sides, eyes wide as she took it all in.

Her gaze caught and lingered on the ornate hilt of a dagger as they passed. Even from a distance, the quality of its craftsmanship was clear, and the gems inlaid in the ferrule were nearly as stunning as the elegantly curved blade, its beauty no doubt disguising its vicious edge.

"'Tis a fine piece of artistry," Urianger said, and she tore her gaze away, a faint blush rising to smudge her cheeks. "Wouldst thou like to see it?"

"What?" It came out as more a squeak than a word, those wide, crystalline eyes staring up at him. "Oh, no, I couldn't possibly... Thank you, though, Mr. Urianger."

It was but a moment's decision to step away from their little group to approach the stall. Thancred lifted a knowing eyebrow behind him, something like fondness playing over his face as he watched Minfilia startle and hurry after him. "Take your time, you two. I'm going to go refill our supplies. I'll catch up with you guys later."

Urianger waved him off, already intent on the dagger that had caught Minfilia's eye. Thancred would bet every gil in his rapidly dwindling pouch that she'd be sporting it on her hip by the time he returned — likely with its twin at her other side, tucked away though it had been toward the back of the stall. It was good of Urianger, to offer that to her. Her borrowed daggers worked well enough, but a young girl deserved to have some nice things of her own. Things Thancred had never even thought to give her. Urianger was a good role model.

Thancred drifted through the canvas-lined alleys, intent on his own venture. Spices, flour, sugar, a small selection of cured meats and cheeses — it would be nice to offer Urianger a more elegant meal for once, though his coin purse was less than thrilled with the decision. He haggled where he could, bartered where he couldn't, and left with more than he had expected but not as much as he'd hoped.

That was fine. Most of their meals could be prepared from what they could hunt and forage within Il Mheg, and there were other, closer settlements with whom they traded semi-regularly for what they couldn't get on their own. Besides, they had to haul everything back for the week-long journey it would take to return home, and his back ached just thinking of how much it was already going to weigh.

A small tent set a little aside from its neighbors caught Thancred’s eye. Delicate porcelain lined the shelves behind the table, tucked far enough back to be reasonably safe from any stray elbows or rowdy customers. Amidst the elegant teacups and fragile carafes, one in particular snagged Thancred’s attention. A slender handle arched from gentle curves, intricate designs pressed into its lip. Like petals unfurling in springs breeze, the unusual shape stood out among its kin.

It was perfect. Thancred drew closer, careful not to bump anything despite his rucksack of goods. It was exactly what he'd been looking for. A little slimmer perhaps, but hopefully that would be okay. The design was different, but short of commissioning a new one, that was pretty much unavoidable, and he wasn't even sure he remembered the design well enough to recreate it.

"Ma'am, how much for that one on the right?"

The price she listed made him balk, but... For Urianger, it was worth it. Besides, Thancred owed him a new cup.

"I'll take it."

His wallet was a great deal lighter by the time he finally caught back up with Urianger and Minfilia, his purchased spoils stashed away in a rented room for the evening so they wouldn't weigh the group down. Sure enough, Minfilia sported new twin daggers at her waist, their curved blades glinting wickedly at her sides. She looked... happy, as Thancred approached, laughing at something Urianger had said to her, a kind smile on her lips. She looked like his Minfilia.

His heart ached at the thought, but before sorrow could rise in its wake, Urianger turned, greeting him with a soft smile of his own. "Ah, welcome back. We were just about to sit down to lunch."

Thancred shoved aside the melancholy, and the warmth in Urianger's eyes made it settle a little easier than it usually was. A soft exhale, and then his own lips lifted in response. "Perfect, I'm starved." A nod to Minfilia's new blades, a hand placed tentatively on her hair. "Those look great."

Minfilia offered him an equally tentative smile. "Thank you." Urianger had no doubt that by nightfall, they'd have found their way into Thancred's hands so he could check the balance, and that no shortage of future combat lessons would be tailored to a more specific blade.

Lunch was sandwiches and tea on an open veranda, made all the more delicious for being eaten in the company of others. How long had it been since any of them had dined out like this, enjoying each other's company and making games of eavesdropping on nearby conversations? Had Minfilia ever chanced to experience that? Urianger was glad that she had the chance now, if nothing else. That they all had the chance.

After lunch, they made their way back to the Cabinet of Curiosity, their excuse to linger running dry with their supplies replenished and their bellies filled. That, too, was a wonder to Minfilia — soaring shelves held nigh uncountable tomes, far more than their little house could possibly hold. Little wonder her eyes sparkled with delight as she gazed upon the stacks. She'd become quite the avid reader in her time spent in Il Mheg. The library here was a veritable treasure trove of untapped knowledge just waiting to be discovered.

She split off while Urianger searched for the tomes he wished to consult, wandering eagerly between the shelves and up the spiralling staircase to the higher levels. He couldn't help but smile at her wide-eyed delight, like a freshman taking their first steps into the Noumenon's vaunted halls.

All the more so when she returned some time later, eager excitement hastening her footsteps, to ask if she might be permitted to remain and read while the two of them continued on.

Thancred hesitated. "I don't know... If something were to happen to you while we were gone..."

That avid light in her eyes dimmed as her reality settled back around her. "Ah, of course..."

"Thinkest thou not that it might be feasible?" Thancred's gaze lifted to meet Urianger’s. "Few places boast the security of the Crystarium, and I've no doubt we could impose upon Moren to keep watch over her if the need arises." So rarely did she get the chance to enjoy something of her own choice; Urianger was loath to strip that from here. All the more so because he wished to foster her curiosity.

Thancred's lips pursed, but after a long moment of consideration, he reluctantly nodded. Perhaps he had come to the same conclusion. "Alright. But if anything happens, seek out the Crystal Exarch or the captain of the guard. They'll help you while we make our way back to you."

Minfilia nodded diligently, though Urianger suspected the advice was unnecessary. Both because he imagined no great strife would arise in their absence, and because he suspected that with her new daggers at hand, the girl was more than capable of handling herself should the situation demand it. So long as Ran'jit did not storm the Crystaium in search of her (which, while not impossible, seemed unlikely), she would be fine.

"Wouldst thou like me to offer thee recommendations on where thou might begin thy perusal?" Urianger asked while Thancred walked off to alert Moren of his newly assigned duty.

Minfilia shook her head, a private, pleased smile curving her lips. "Thank you, but I'm alright. I want to look through them on my own. Now go! Enjoy your time together. I'll have Moren take me to the inn rooms when I'm done."

There was a gleam in her eye that gave Urianger pause, a knowing smile playing about the corners of her mouth. Surely she wasn't staying behind just so that Thancred and he could be alone, was she? But no, they'd been careful. She had no reason to suspect anything was going on between them. And truly, who wouldn't wish to linger in the presence of such a fine selection of books?

Still, intentional or not, how fortuitous to have a chance to spend some time alone with Thancred here. It was almost like a... Like a....

"Are you ready to go?" Thancred's voice cut in over the flutter of Urianger’s own pulse in his ears.

Face warmer than it had any right to be, Urianger turned to him, carefully clutching his stack of books to his chest. "Yes, let's."

[Chapter 16]

[Kofi/commissions]

[karoiseka]

Cutting Corners

((More ARR Karo, with a little bit of pre-calamity mixed in.  Tried going back to the little snippets style for this one.  I think I like it most of what I’ve done so far!))

The trail wound through the forest, twisting and turning it’s well trodden path between the largest of trees, plenty of room for a full-laden cart or several people to walk side by side easily.  The small Miqo’te child knew a faster way, between the bushes, through the unseen meadows, blazing her own way home.

It was a silly thing, but a habit nonetheless.  Hanging onto the metal fencing along the upper ledge of the aetheryte plaza to outpace the longer legs of her Da and Pa.  It didn’t shorten the corner by much, yet, just enough to give her the boost to keep up.  Never hurt to be a few fulms taller as well, reaching past their shoulders for once.

The chocobos didn’t like it, but the teen Miqo’te was the only one in the family who could get them to gently rock the caravan backwards to be able to turn the tight corner through the encampment.  Urging them on quietly, she praised them profusely, scritching their necks, and leading them forward once more.

Feet pounded silently along the game trail once more, desperate to make it home before the sun disappeared below the horizon.  As the fork in the path loomed ahead, she made the split second decision to go in more of a straight line–though it meant crossing the creek on a log she prayed was still there.  It wouldn’t be the first time she arrived home with wet feet if it wasn’t there anymore!

Bow in hand, and pack on back, she ran from the cottage, feet taking her along long unused trails, but unerringly to the main path to Gridiana.  She couldn’t remember how she knew the way, couldn’t remember the men that came and called her name with such heartbreak.  Better to start anew.  Better to leave.  Flagging down the carriage heading towards the city, she hopped in across from a set of twins, sleeping as peacefully as she wished she could.

Dashing across the Thanalan grass, she moved with the wind, lightly jumping over the rocks in her way.  She was to meet with Thancred out here, close to the Amalj’aa camp to try and figure out what was going on.  It felt good to be out in the South once more, sun soaking her skin.   Seeing his silver hair glinting in the sun, she put on a burst of speed, finally breaking onto the path he had been looking for her on.

The crowd outside dulled the shine of victory from her emotions, walking timidly to the doors hanging open to the plaza.  The scattered documents in the foyer set her heart to racing as she leapt over the small wall to the stairs below, shoving open the broken door at the bottom and skidding to a sickening halt.  This was not what she was supposed to come back to.  Crumpled forms littered the dark corridor, the smell of blood hanging in the air.  Numbly she searched every room before heading to the solar.

There were no more shortcuts to be had, no more corners to cut.  There was only one way forward, and one way only to embrace to ensure their survival.  She was called the Warrior of Light, Karoiseka O’dayla, and by the Gods she was going to use whatever power had been given to her to defeat the Ultima Weapon, Lahabrea, and bring Thancred home safely.

[emetkoto]

k'oto's teenage years, go.

oh boy! well he first came to limsa when he was 13 so thats where he spent the entirety of his teenage years, so he certainly had plenty to do! his parents worked for the fisher's guild catching and selling fish and such and he helped with that a little but he was never really into it bc i mean. he was 13 and he was very jaded and bitter and oh yeah traumatized! for the first year or so he often got into trouble for starting fights or trying to pick pockets but that got him noticed by the rogues guild who kinda picked him up and set him straight by giving him a cool little place to hang out and sorta belong since he felt like he didnt have that, what with having had to uproot his whole life and start again on a whole different continent and all that…but once he made some friends there he started to lighten up a bit (still neglected his family business but what can you do teenagers am i right) and put himself out there more!! he spent most of his time with the rogues, at the aetheryte plaza/markets, or the drowning wench just kinda mingling with the locals and such bc he really enjoys just being where the people are! he's a social creature :) since he didn't wanna work with his parents he provided for his family and made personal spending money by doing hunt marks around la noscea and odd jobs here and there (leves basically) and that held him over until the calamity at which point he was 18 and all that Affected Him Deeply and made him feel Extremely Weird (witnessing a near-apocalypse and being rejoined unwillingly will do that to a person) and he started to get really like. antsy. staying in one place wasn't working for him anymore he couldn't take it but he had no idea what to do or where to go so he hung around a few more years doing What K'oto Does until the start of ARR when he turns 23 and decides he wants to go be a gladiator at the Bloodsands and takes off for Ul'Dah <3 but thats not part of his teenage years so idk why i mentioned it but yeah there you go!

[lizzy-frizzle]

How do we cope with 24 hour maintenance, peeps? We write.

Sadu clings to Lizzy’s arm. She never really liked the market areas of cities. The rest of the city areas are mostly ok, not as many concentrated people. The markets, though? They’re always packed.

Lizzy is always able to pick up on when Sadu is feeling anxious, she doesn’t mind the closeness. Though it seems as though Sadu is more nervous than normal today.

They meander through the Ishgard markets together, Lizzy trying to pick out a semi-last minute gift for Fae’a, considering it’s his first starlight, and normally she would just go by herself, but Sadu asked to come with this time.

The markets have starlight celebration ornaments and decorations up, and the light snowfall really solidifies the feeling of starlight in Lizzy’s mind.

“Hey, Sadu, are you ok?” Lizzy gently whispers toward Sadu.

It’s been a couple of months since they started dating, yet Lizzy’s heart still flutters as her crush holds her arm.

Sadu, noticeably taller, looks down at Lizzy, “Yea, I’m just-”

A stranger bumps into them, the crowd seems to be growing.

Sadu takes a deep breath, “I’m ok.”

Lizzy flashes a face of concern, “Hey, let’s get out of here for a min-”

“-No, I...” Sadu pauses and looks around, “I need to get something here.”

Lizzy lingers on concern for a moment, [Sadu needs to get something? She has money?]

“Hey, have you celebrated Starlight before?” Lizzy speaks to the auri woman clearly not paying much attention at the moment, “Sadu?”

Sadu snaps her attention back, “Uh...”

[Oh my gosh, she hasn’t.]

“It’s ok if you don’t get something for me, you know? Like, you don’t have to stress about it.” Lizzy’s attempts at reassurance fall on deaf ears.

“He-” Sadu’s voice catches, she takes another deep breath, “Hey, can you stay here? I need to get something without you seeing.”

“Uh, sure, I can go sit on that bench,” Lizzy points to a close unoccupied bench, “it’s right next to a light pole, so you should be able to find me easy, ok?”

Sadu nods, then walks through the crowd towards the stalls.

Lizzy sits on the bench, watching people pass by. She notices an elezen family, mom, dad, and child. The kid wants to get a toy from one of the stalls. The parents inspect it, and shake their heads, causing the kid to become upset.

Lizzy starts to get up, suspecting it’s a money issue, but then notices the mom double back while the dad comforts the child. She buys the toy, and stashes it in her purse.

[Ah. I see.]

As Lizzy sits back down, she notices the crowd begin to thin a little bit.

[I hope she’s ok…]

Some rowdy kids knock a vase off a stall, and it shatters. The merchant is livid, and scolds the kids, but ultimately he drops the issue.

After some time passes, Lizzy spots Sadu walking back to her. Lizzy gets up and waves, “Hey, how’d everything go?”

She holds a small bag in her hand, “Great, I have the perfect gift!”

Lizzy looks at the bag, it’s too small to be many things. [It’s probably a new necklace or some earrings? Maybe?]

“Awesome, I need to grab something still, so let’s get going.”

Lizzy grabs Sadu’s free hand, Sadu seems a lot more relaxed for some reason, yet Lizzy can’t think of a reason why.

~~A couple weeks later~~

[Where’s Lizzy? I told her to meet me here at PRECISELY this time.]

Sadu paces back and forth at the Kugane Aetheryte plaza.

[She’s 2 minutes late.]

She stops and glares at the clock nearby.

The familiar vorping sound of an incoming teleport comes from nearby. An auri woman, short, with black and blue spikey hair, materializes in front of her.

“Finally!” Sadu says, as she hugs her girlfriend.

Lizzy blushes immediately, “Hey, sorry I’m late, there was some wolves attacking a settlement in La Noscea that needed my attention.”

[Ah, that explains the lack of date attire.] Sadu sighs, “It’s ok, what matters is that you’re here now.

She fidgets with her dress a little.

Lizzy finally takes note of her date, “O-oh, wow...”

Sadu feels her cheeks become warm, “What?” she crosses an arm to hold the other.

“That’s the dress you wore on our first date wasn’t it?” Lizzy’s gaze looks toward where the dress was ripped.

“Yea, I had Tataru mend where I tore it...”

Lizzy looks at her own clothes, “I wish I wore something better.”

Lizzy frowns.

“No, no! I like it!” Sadu swiftly reassures her, “Uh, so, we’re actually a little pressed for time.”

Lizzy looks confused, “Oh?”

Sadu grabs Lizzy’s hand, very aggressively, and pulls her through the city.

She’s been practicing this route all day. She knows it by heart.

“Where are we going?” Lizzy stumbles with her footing, slightly.

“You’ll see!”

They twist around the city, until they arrive at a small noodle shop.

“Oh!” Lizzy exclaims, “A restaurant date, I like it.”

Sadu hears Lizzy stomach growl in agreement.

“Good, we have reservations.” Sadu says, as she approaches a waiter and asks.

He nods and leads them to a booth in a quiet part of the restaurant.

[Tataru is a saint.] Sadu thinks as she sighs in relief.

The two sit down, and place their orders.

Sadu leads, “Any new adventures?”

Lizzy thinks for a moment, “No, not really, it’s been a little quiet for a while.” she looks at Sadu, “Not that I’m complaining, this just means I get more time to spend with you.”

That warm feeling returned to Sadu’s cheeks, as she avoids eye contact.

“Ah, well. Uh, things at the Steppe have been quiet lately too. I dare say you’ve removed all the excitement.”

Sadu stops for a moment, “UH! NOT THAT IT’S A BAD THING.”

Another pause, “I like...”

“Um. You.”

A silence hangs between them.

Sadu continues, “Like, I like hanging out with you.”

[Ugh, why am I like this. I know she loves me. I know I love her. Why am I so nervous?]

Lizzy laughs, “Well, I sure hope so, otherwise I’d be very confused.”

[Oh crap, what time is it?] Sadu searches the restaurant for a clock.

“Hey, can we go to the next spot?”

Lizzy looks up at Sadu, with a mouth full of food.

She swallows it, “Uh, sure, I’m actually nearly done anyway.”

Sadu flags the waiter down, and pays for the meal.

“When did you get money?” Lizzy asks.

Sadu sticks her tongue out at Lizzy, “None of your business.”

[It was Tataru.]

They make their way out of the restaurant and back into the streets. Sadu is less pull-y this time, but still very clearly trying to get them somewhere at a specific time. Another route practiced very carefully.

They stop on a bridge, it overlooks the sea and most of the city. The symbol of Kugane up on the high wall, the moonlight shining on the bridge.

[Perfect.]

The shadows creep towards them as the moon moves, however.

Lizzy leans over the railing, looking out at the city, “I really like this view.”

“Yea, I know. That’s why I picked this spot.” Sadu says, shuffling through her pockets.

“I want to take you up on top of the tower some day.” Lizzy stops, and turns her head, “Maybe ton-”

Sadu is holding a ring out.

She’s on her knee.

“Lizzy, will you join me in eternal bonding?”

Lizzy nearly collapses, and Sadu catches her, “Lizzy?!”

“I, uh, wow. Um.” Lizzy holds her head, as she tries to regain her balance, “Of course! Yes! Absolutely!”

Sadu stabilizes Lizzy, and kisses her, as they kiss, she picks her up and spins her around.

[This is perfection.] they both think.

[second-chance-stray]

RP Log: Rising takes Cravs out to skyfish. Egg fish.

Rising Lotus still looked a bit wobbly on her feet as they made their way through the aetheryte plaza. "Ugh, wasn't even a long airship trip..." she took a few deep breaths, trying to collect herself now that they were on solid land... more or less.

Cravendy Hound , in contrast, is in high spirits. She steps out onto the floating island with wonder lighting up her eyes, and she dashes out to an edge to get a better look. "Risin', ye got to work on yer sea legs...or air legs, in this case? Anyway, holy. Shit. What the 'ells keepin' all these rocks flyin' up?"

Rising Lotus: "Some sort of air crystals or somethin' I think? Some sort of aethery type of deal, someone explained it to me when I came here the first time but I don't remember the specifics." she shrugged ."It ain't too far from the spot...which is weird cause you think you could jus' cast out off any side."

Cravendy Hound shrugs. Magic didn't make much sense to her as well. She would follow Rising to whatever spot she was talking about, chatting along the way. "So, ye showed me that weird balloonfish last time, but what else could we drag up?"

Rising Lotus shrugged. "There's lots of different air fish. Some ain't really look like fish though, least not where I casted off here." she started down the way. "But I guess it counts as long as you hook it?"

Cravendy Hound: "I mean, if we're tossin' our 'ooks off a cliff, seems reasonable ye'd catch things other than fish. Like, birds, maybe." She pauses every once and awhile to observe the native flora and fauna around these parts, having never seen anything quite like it.

Rising Lotus approached the edge cautiously, looking out on the vast cloudscape. "Think over here was the place. I remember these weird plants." she plopped down,  setting her tackle box between them. "Also careful when you go for some bait, it has a tendency to... uh float away."

Cravendy Hound: "What?" Cravs goes for Rising's tackle box and opens it, letting a couple of red balloon bugs drifting out. "What?!"

Rising Lotus was able to snag one out of the air as the others wafted away on the breeze. "See? You jus' wanna hook 'em..." she slid the hook into the body part instead of the balloon part, so that it still could float on her line. "Like this. So they can still float. You'll probably still pop a few though on your first try." She then casted her line out, line floating about with the stange bug hook on.

Cravendy Hound does her best to catch some of the bait before it flies away, but the wind blows away most of the escapees. Following Rising's lead, she stabs one a little too roughly through her hook. It's not floating at all anymore. That's not a good sign.

Cravendy Hound throws caution to the wind and decides, screw it. She casts off with the dead bug anyway. The chill really sets in once she begins waiting in earnest. "Eesh, it's colder than I thought up 'ere."

Rising Lotus snickered as Cravs had a deflated bait hanging from her line. "It's a little tricky, the ballon part is way bigger than the non-balloon part." she shrugged as she cast off anyway. "You think it'd be warmer since we're closer to the sun."

Cravendy Hound feels something tug on the other end and she pulls up a...weird? Purple circle? Cravs can't tell if this is a living creature or skytrash. "I think I caught this through pure luck."

Cravendy Hound: "Well, the tops of mountains tend to be cold? Maybe whatevers 'oldin' in all the warm air becomes thinner the 'igher ye go."

Rising Lotus reels in the same thing, unhooking it then tossing it away, watching it drift away. "Wonder what those things are, weird purple balls." she casted off again. " I got some other bait in there too, these giant bugs. But ya know, different from these bugs."

Cravendy Hound gives her Storm Core a confused squeeze and the thing begins to deflate, spitting out questionable liquid as it becomes as flat as a pancake. Cravs feels a tinge bad, decides to toss it off the cliff as if releasing a fish. The purple thing descends and disappears below the cloud layer. It's probably fine, she tells herself!

Cravendy Hound: "Other bait? Giant...bugs?" Cravs mutters apprehensively. "How big we talkin' 'ere."

Rising Lotus: "Well their body is small, but it has super long legs." she motioned to a small cage with Giant Crane Fly fluttering about. "...So...how did Riylli take... ya know.." she reeled in once more after asking, pulling in a small slug like thing with little wings, giving it a strange look. "...it's like some small angel thing."

Cravendy Hound peers over at the bait and lets out a breath of relief. "Oh, that's nothin', I thought ye were talkin' like, /big/ bugs. Like this bug." She spreads her hands a few ilms apart, invisibly outlining something the size of a loaf of bread.

Cravendy Hound: "She took it well enough...at least, don't think we 'ave to worry about 'er gabbin' to Momori anymore. I think it'd be good to keep 'er and Florus separated though, she still wants to tear 'im a new one."

Rising Lotus "Well yeah that was a no brainer...good though. I was worried 'bout her runnin' with Momori... an' her bein' as naive as she is at times...well..." she let out a sigh at the thought before reeling in another catch. It looks like a weird mass of cloth moving about. "Whoah.." she held her line up so she could look at its form better. Whiteloom

Cravendy Hound: "While most Eorzeans don't take kindly to Garleans, I think somethin' personal must've 'appened with Riylli to make 'er distrust 'em that much...and she's sheltered, too. Bein' in the woods for all yer life don't do the mind any good."

Cravendy Hound glances over at Rising's catch and lets out an amused snort. "Hah, did ye accidentally reel in someone's smallclothes?"

(Cravendy Hound) Buoyant Oviform UMM )) (Cravendy Hound) THATS JUST AN EGG?? )) (Rising Lotus) What's the lady's name they're trying to stop again?)) (Rising Lotus) and yes that's an egg)) (Cravendy Hound) Mindred Rot? )) (Rising Lotus) okay thanks I was blanking xD))

Rising Lotus looked again at her catch. "..Well them Ishgarde folk do wear that frilly stuff." She carefully unhooked it and tossed it over the edge only for it to start swimmin' back through the air.

Rising Lotus: "But aye... worried someone's gonna take advantage of that...someone like Momori or Rot."

Cravendy Hound: "Good thing Riylli's got us to protect 'er, then. Or try. She's pretty stubborn."

Cravendy Hound - Something tugs on the line and she reels in an egg of all things. Cravs holds it in her hand, stunned into a prolonged silence.

Cravendy Hound: "...AY. OKAY, NOW I KNOW YER MESSIN' WITH ME." She turns to Rising with the egg brandished like a club. "The purple beachball and cloth thing were fishy enough, but an egg?! What do ye take me for? Are ye, like, attachin' crap to my line or somethin'?!"

Rising Lotus was about to speak on the Riylli matter when Cracs pulled up an egg. "Huh... that is an egg." she cocked her head. "..so there are eggs floatin' 'round up here too? I mean... does it hatch into things?" she gave it a puzzled look, losing her own bait. "How in the hells would I do that? I'm right here with you!" she set herself up and cast out again.

Cravendy Hound: "I dunno, ye tell me! Did ye 'ire a moogle to loiter below us? Or maybe yer usin' magic. That shit can do anythin'," Cravs rambles as she grips the egg in her hand. "Well, the jig is up!"

Cravendy Hound tosses the egg against the ground, smashing it. A tiny, weird fish splats out of it and flops futilely as Cravs goes from confused to seconds away from losing her mind.

(Cravendy Hound) I have no idea but like - if eggs can fly.................. )) (Rising Lotus) These eggs can! If they're even eggs)) (Cravendy Hound) sus eggs ))

Rising Lotus "I don't know any magic! Aside from some of that blue kind I haven't practiced in...whoah!" she was jerked forward from the tug on her line, causing her to stand up and fight with it. "This ones feels big..." her eyes darted down to the edge nervously and inched back a decent amount of ilms. Eventually with a mighty tug a shark swooped up over the side, thrashing about as it landed on the edge before Rising.

Rising Lotus: "...It's a flyin' shark!" her face lit up, though the creature's resistance broke through, biting through her line and the fly-swimming off.

Cravendy Hound peels her eyes off of the questionable fish-egg and hurries to loop her arm around Rising's elbow. "Don't let it drag ye off! It's a long way down!"

Cravendy Hound: "Well, shit! That's a flyin' fish if I ever saw one," Cravs points out. "But like, a /real/ one, not just the glidin' type I see on the water."

Rising Lotus grunted as it flew off. "Well it was a fish.." she watched it fly off into the distance and back into the clouds. " Ain't ever had that happen before. You'll vouch for me that I caught a sky shark right? I'll vouch for your egg." she snickered.

Cravendy Hound narrows her eyes again. "Ye say that, and people'll just think yer loony. Damnit, I wanna hook a shark too." She stabs another balloon bug onto her hook and decides to change spots - maybe standing somewhere else, she'll have more luck?

Cravendy Hound: "Anyway, what exactly did ye promise to Momori? Somethin' 'bout takin' 'er to Idyllshire? Gods, I feel bad that yer stickin' yer neck out for me to begin with..."

Rising Lotus made her way down the way and cast out again. "Ugh... all I could offer was some connections out there, which even that I ain't thrilled about. Gotta warn 'em 'bout her." she sighed. "An' don't worry 'bout it...gotta look out for you to."

Cravendy Hound blinks several times at that last part, two parts dazed and one part embarrassed. Mixed in is also that feeling of fear you get when you look down a cliff - which /may/ be from literally looking down a cliff. She's not sure. "Ah. Well. I can look after myself...but I appreciate the 'elp anyway."

Cravendy Hound: "We look out for each other." Cravs pauses, then glances up to give Rising a shy smile. She finds her footing. "..A 'ound never 'unts alone.

Rising Lotus nodded, returning the smile as she idly reeled in her line. "Aye..." she chewed her lower lip, looking like she was fighting with something. "...I was alone for a bit before I joined up with Heartwood. Was...a bit hard...so.. ya know...you an' Riylli..." she trailed off, reeling in her next catch.

Cravendy Hound tilts her head as she listens to Rising, every word slow and careful. Which struck her as odd, but then again, Cravs figured she was feeling just the same way. "Yeah! It's good the three of us stumbled into each other. Ain't good bein' alone all the time."

Rising Lotus fished up an egg of her own, breaking the tender moment by by grabbing it and shoving it in Crav's face "See! I wasn't putting you on! There are jus'..." she looked at the egg in her hand "..these things floatin' about.." she shrugged and tossed it away.

Rising Lotus: "..b-but yeah...Thanks." she smiled weakly, though it looked like something was still bothering her a bit.

Cravendy Hound rolls her eyes with a smirk. "Well I'll be...ye also got one of them flyin' eggs. Either there really are eggs just out there, waitin' and willin' to be fished up, or we're both goin' crazy from bein' up 'ere too long. If they're aren't just a 'allucination, we should shove 'em in a carton at 'ome as a prank. See if someone bakes a cake with it."

Cravendy Hound: "Anyway, I'm gonna 'ead back. My nose's gonna be frozen solid if I stay out 'ere any longer." She packs up her rod and bumps Rising on the shoulder with a clenched fist as she begins to walk back. "Thanks for takin' me out. Shout if anythin's givin' ye trouble."

Rising Lotus nodded. "Aye, I think I've had enough of starin' off into...certain death." she stashed her rod away. " Glad we finally had a chance to go out here." she rubbed her elbow a bit at her offer, glancing back over the edge before nodding lightly. "..A-alright." she shivered a bit as the chill was finally starting to get to her as well. "..I wonder if they got a bar in that town back there.."

[raelly-writing]

Prompt 8: Clamour - FFXIVWrite 2020

Post 5.3 so beware of the spoilers! Speedwriting in the middle of the night seem like a poor time for Urianger dialogue but eeeeh, whims of the muse?

Clamour: a loud and persistent noise.

---

An unreasonably cold rainstorm had swept in over Mor Dhona and seemingly decided to just stay there for the day.

In short, it was a miserable experience to travel through it. The longing call of dry clothes and something warm to eat and drink made Thancred hurry his steps as he made his way from the stables to the Rising Stones.

Gods, he felt cold. Water dripped off his coat when he finally slunk in through the doors and into the comperative warmth inside. Not that it was easy to feel with the soaked through fabric hanging off his shoulders. Instantly, the familiar clamour and din of the Scions in the middle of dinnertime met him - by the sound of it, Hoary and Ocher was in the middle of retelling some story, their loud voices carrying just over the noise of everyone as they bickered over some detail or another the way siblings seemed to often do.

“Well, look what the coeurl dragged in.” Alisaie gave him a critical once-over as he approached the table where she, Alphinaud, Y’shtola, G’raha and Urianger were seated. “You look terrible.”

“Hello to you too,” Thancred drawled and eyed the barely touched stew in front of each of them. “I see I return just in time for dinner as well.”

“Did it all go well?” Alphinaud set down his mug to look up at him with that adult intensity that looked a fair bit out of place on his still young features.

Nodding, Thancred procured an envelope from his satchel from the contact he had met up with. “Everything is in there.”

Eagerly, he accepted the envelope, his dinner seemingly forgotten as he tore it open and retrieved the documents within.

Casting a glance around to the others, Thancred crossed his arms. “I take it Viana is still in Ishgard?”

“It would appear so,” Y’shtola replied before sipping on her drink.

“Busy as always,” Alisaie added with a shrug. “Probably won’t rest until she’s seen the place rebuilt brick by brick, and by then there’ll be something else to occupy her time.”

The nervous flick of one red ear caught his attention. Evidently sensing Thancred’s gaze on him, G’raha looked up with his brow furrowed and concern evident in his red eyes. “No, I met her a mere hour ago,” he replied.

Instantly, Alisaie sat up straight, brows drawn together in a frown as she fixed G’raha with a stare. “What? Where is she then?”

Suddenly the center of everyone’s attention, even Alphinaud’s, G’raha’s gaze flickered about for a moment, before looking back to Thancred. “She said she wanted to finish some reports before dinner,” he explained slowly. “I assumed she was merely caught up in it and would be down at any moment.”

“You should have said something sooner!” Alisaie exclaimed. “Gods, she's just as bad as you were at taking a break!”

Ignoring the sudden flurry of back-and-forth rebukes and retorts between Alisaie and G’raha, Thancred instinctively cast a concerned glance towards the door leading to the rest of the Rising Stones. A small ball of worry settled in his chest. Usually, Viana was quite punctual about eating with everyone else when she was able to make it back to the Rising Stones.

“Perhaps someone ought to check on her?” Y’shtola’s calm and even voice cut through the other two’s bickering and Alphinaud’s attempts to mediate.

“With the weather this foul, perhaps she hath fallen ill,” Urianger added.

A hush fell over the entire table as they all exchanged looks.

G’raha’s ears lay flat against his head, tail twitching anxiously. “She… did look a bit pale and unfocused.”

Alisaie made a frustrated sound and threw her hands up in the air. “She once fainted straight into Thancred’s arms due to a fever, after insisting that all was fine.” With a sour glance in G’raha’s direction, she crossed her arms and looked for all the world like she was barely holding herself back from bolting from her seat, her lips pressed together in a thin line. “Don’t take her estimates of her own health at face value.”

Thancred could only recall the incident all too well. The prickle of worry in his chest grew as the cold from the rain suddenly was far from his mind. Uncrossing his arms, he began making his way towards the door. “I’ll check on her,” he called back over his shoulder.

--

“Viana?”

A gentle hand on her shoulder shook her from the dark oblivion of a restless sleep. Blinking slowly, her vision swam for a moment before coming into focus. Concerned hazel eyes peered back at her from beneath thick, messy silver bangs.

“Thancred?” she rasped out. Gods, how long had she been asleep? Squinting, she tried to make out the time on the chronometer, but the light filtering in from the window sent another sharp stab of pain through her head.

Groaning, Viana quickly screwed her eyes shut and turned her face back in towards her pillow as her head throbbed as if someone was trying to hammer a spike into her forehead.

“Are you ill? Should I fetch Krile?” Thancred asked while stroking her arm, his voice soft and quiet. Bless him. The touch of his hand was cold, and sent a small shiver through her body.

“Just a headache,” she murmured. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

She felt him grasp her hand in his, the leather of his gloves just as chilly as his fingertips, then the press of his lips against her knuckles. “The others were worried when you didn’t show up for dinner.”

Guilt tugged at her heart. “Tell them I’m sorry for making them worry,” she replied quietly. She wanted to look at him, but didn’t dare to open her eyes lest the throbbing pain in her head would just intensify. Blindly, she reached out and carefully felt for him. Wet coat fabric met her fingertips and she followed it up until she felt his damp skin, tracing the cord of his neck until she could caress his cheek. “You’re wet, love.”

“It’s still pouring down rain outside,” he replied gently, a small trace of mirth colouring his words. Through her muddled thoughts, she recognised the steady drum of the rain against her window then. Ah, right, it had been raining all day so far.

“Do you want me to leave you in peace?”

She wanted to say no, to ask him to stay, but the feeling of his wet hair brushing against her hand, and the chill of his skin made her bite the words back. Surely he was tired from his mission, and cold after riding through this weather. She’d felt frozen to the bone just from running from the aetheryte plaza after teleporting back. “You don’t have to stay,” she quietly responded.

His hand covered hers and she felt him turn his head to press a kiss to her palm. “Not what I was asking, darling.”

Swallowing, she nodded. “Then stay, please.”

The rustle of leather and cloth when he stood up felt sharper in her ears than usual. “Give me a moment then,” Thancred spoke before she felt him brush a gentle kiss to her cheek.

Viana nodded, and curled up beneath the warm covers as she silently listened as he removed his gear.

“Ah, I see this is where my shirt has disappeared off to.”

Despite the pain, Viana managed a small, sheepish smile. “Sorry. It smelled like you,” she mumbled drowsily. “Then it stopped to. Found another. Wearing it now.”

Thancred made a quiet, muffled sound that sounded very much like a rumble of approval. “It’s quite alright, my dear.”

The damp, chilly air nipped at her skin when he lifted up the covers so he could slip beneath them. Viana tried to just shuffle back, but Thancred wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer as he settled on his back. “This okay?” he whispered.

“Mhm,” she responded. Not caring that his skin was cool to the touch, she eagerly fit herself against the length of his body, tucking her face in against his neck despite the damp tips of his hair that were cold against her temple. The scent of rain clinging to him mixed with the familiar, somewhat muted notes of his cologne, leather and the residue from his gunblade cartridges.

Thancred brushed his fingers through the short hairs at the back of her head. “I forgot one thing, Viana... “

Making a quiet noise to show that she was listening, she tilted her head up towards him, but all she caught was the quiet chime of a linkpearl activating.

“Urianger?” Thancred quietly spoke into it while rubbing her back with his other hand. Realising his intent, Viana relaxed again, drifting in a half-aware state. It was only just that she could overhear the sound of Urianger responding.

“Hast ill befallen her? Does thou require mine aid?”

“No, I don’t think so, she seems to just have a severe headache that she wants to sleep off.”

“Ah. I shall convey thy words to the others once and alert mistress Krile to the situation.”

“Thank you. I’ll stay here with Viana, but could you ask F’lhammin to prepare something to eat in a couple of hours? I wager she knows something that fits the situation.”

“Of course, as thou wish. We will check on thy once the set time hast passed.”

There was another small chime as the call was disconnected, and Thancred wrapped his other arm around her once more. The warmth beneath the blankets and covers were slowly seeping into his body, chasing away the cold of the rain. It was so warm and comfortable, quiet save for the drone of the rain against the window.

“I love our friends,” Viana mumbled against the curve of Thancred’s neck. “All of them. But they can get so loud.”

His chest reverberated with a low laugh. “They can get quite lively, yes.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. “Did you get the headache in Ishgard?”

“Mrr… Sea of Clouds. Heatwave. So many people around, the constant clamouring and hammering in the Firmament.” Another spike of pain drew a miserable noise from her throat. “Behold; the mighty ‘Warrior of Light’, laid low by a headache,” she groused.

“You are only mortal,” he replied gently. Another kiss was pressed to her hair while his hands still rubbed her back and arm. “Try to go back to sleep, Viana.”

“Mmmkay,” she mumbled, already half-way there, content in his embrace.

[benjimirthursby]

Prompt #5 - Matter of fact. | “Over the lips and past the gums.” - The Book of Thursby: Scions of Numenor.

“One of my instructors held that your focus determines your reality.  Of course she was a philosophy professor not a Keeper of Dossimir mechanics and physics.  In Jaunting from place to place using Aetheryte crystals however it was literal reality.  To initiate a jaunt required a moment of concentration and usually visualization.  While there were methods and short-cuts to aid those need to travel to a place never visited, the best practice was to travel to a place first.  The thought was if you somehow dropped out of the Aether somehow, it would be to a place along the route you took in real space.” 

-Benjimir Thursby, “The Analects.”

Looking squarely at the meters tall Aetheryte crystal in the plaza of Limsa Lominsa, Benjimir shifted his thoughts to the counterpart in Ul’Dah.  He then augmented his minds eye to include the form of Aubreen T’subaki before him under the crystal.  As a few hours before, the plaza about him appeared to grow dim, the crystal before him more vivid and across his field of vision   a rapidly rising haze of soft light rose, punctuated by streaks of bright streams and glints of sparks.  The haze seemed to peak as a soft white cloud across his vision before fading to black in an instant.  For a moment, how long he could not tell as there was no since of time, his vision perceived only blackness, he thought, before the process reversed itself and revealed the plaza in Ul’Dah ending in the sense he was sliding off his bed in the morning onto the group.

Benjimir let his eyes sweep back and forth before reminding himself to hear, feel and think again.  Freeing himself to move the rest of his body he looked about and did not see Aubreen in the plaza.  Before he could crane his neck to look up the hallway leading to the outer promenade, a sparkling glow manifested near him and into it the image of Aubreen took on reality and remained as the Aetherial light show ended.  She had jaunted away fully minutes before him yet arrived after him.  Some sort of lag he noticed before.  This method of travel would have limitations for anything tactical or requiring keen precision.  Perhaps that was by design.  

“Getting slow or does drinking impact jaunting about like this?” Benjimir asked as Aubreen turned and smiled.  She shook her head.  “I’ve no idea, nor any I have asked.” Aubreen said.  They started the walk from the plaza back to quarters on the floor of the Quicksand Inn which the Thursby Company had let out for considerable Gil years prior.  

Passing out of the plaza Benjimir made passing note of a leather clad Chocobo being fed small green vegetables by a cloaked rider.  His attention not aroused not did he observe the riders interest peaked as he and Aubreen walked past.  The cloaked head watched Aubreen pass and took note of her companion.  Once the two had passed he recovered the reigns of his mount and walked apace to the city gate and departed in haste.

Benjimir was in high spirits if near exhausted from the evenings revelry in Limsa.  Captains and commodores from a healthy portion of Maelstrom’s fleet and several of the Thursby Company’s growing squadrons as well.  Benjimir felt like extending the night some and enjoying a quiet end to the night.  “Join me for a night cap in the Dapper Mariner?” He asked Aubreen as they entered the lift to the upper floors of the Inn.

“Certainly.”  Aubreen peered at him closely, curiosity aroused.  Keen eyes, minty breath, not a hint of flush in his cheeks and a growing, smug smile.  “Did you actually manage to spend hours in a swarray, a pirate's conclave no less, and NOT drink?”  She asked incredulously.  “Even for you that surely is not possible.”  she said, one eye wide and eyebrow flared high.

Benjimir’s smug smile escalated to a wanton smirk.  “Matter of fact, yes.”  The lift doors opened and they walked into the small bar where the barkeep was wiping and hanging glasses.  The lounge had a few late  diners, a well-to-do couple sitting at the table near the bay window looking out over the city lights.  Aubreen order a drink as Benjimir leaned on the side the bar and ordered a Fizbin effervescent fruit drink.  

“Not one?” Aubreen asked.  “What of the flagon Captain Vanderyker thrust in your hand when we arrived?”  Benjimir sipped his Fizbin.  “I poured it into your empty stine when you joined me a few minutes later and made a point of showing off mine being empty.” he replied.

“And the bottles of ale from the Doma brewer?” She asked?   “Traded up with empties as the servers passed by for about an hour.”  Benjimir said matter of factly and sipped his drink.

“What of all the sparkling wine at the high-top with Captain Rienheart and Commodore Hayes?  I saw you with empty glasses?” Aubreen said, mystified.  Benjimir raised his brows to add a bit of mocking arrogance to his face as he replied.  “I traded my full glasses for their near empty ones.  By that point both had consumed enough drink to embalm an Oliphant’s liver.”

Aubreen shook her head, amused but resigned.  “So thusly is defeated another attempt to breach the legendary reserve of Benjimir.”  Benjimir’s smirk reached a crescendo for the night and he held his hands out in a mock gesture of a prophet.  “My uptightness is mighty.  Harken unto it.  Accept it and know peace, defy it and wander eternally!”  Benjimir said breaking into a hardly laugh as he did and which he shared with his friend.

*******

[furymint]

FFXIV Write: Prompt #3

wc: 711 | cw: war imagery | part of first au | @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

Elliot allowed himself to be pushed along the wilds of Lakeland. The sky tinted from its jarring blue to a welcome gold, staining the retreating army with a dying light. Darkness crept from the eastern mountaintops. Defiant, the Crystal Tower glittered as a beacon of refuge, but Elliot felt no relief at its visage.

He barely understood why they wanted him. The Crystarium forces swept across Kholusia in a bloody wave to the ocean, dragged him with them, and trapped him not in irons but in a herd of irascible soldiers. He quickly learned how difficult it was to be talked about but never spoken to. They shoved and wrenched him aside, cursing his confusion to forget their own. The names of their missing friends rung in his ears as they screamed to find them or swore that they better be on the next boat and not with the dead. Salt water, greasy tar, and blood slicked the floor; the ship pitched and thrashed the crowd into each other; everyone seemed to be crying, groaning, shaking, searching, hanging on to life because they’d seen how easily it was taken.

When the ship hurled into port and spat its beaten passengers to the rocky shore, Elliot collapsed in the grass. Despite exhaustion, he quickly scrambled up to free space as nurses filed from the deck with legions of stretchers. He followed the march again. Talk came less easily to the group.

To distract himself, he unclipped his earring and toyed with the latch in his scratched hands. Frowning, he wished he hadn’t given back the ear clip yet. It tied him to the only person he knew, even for an hour, in this chaos--but he gave it away to the nurse who took Nolanel away so that maybe, maybe when he woke up he would derive some comfort from it.

Elliot’s heart wept for something even passingly familiar. These people were not his; the land was like naught he’d ever seen; not even the sky held any familiarity to him. None of it belonged to him. Paralysis struck him as he realized that he, too, belonged to nothing now.

A woman in dented armor shoved him along. Fresh teams of carriages rolled passed to collect those who could not walk. Gaping faces peaked from behind the bleached tarps at the returning army. No doubt some of them were searching for a cherished name as well. Elliot kept his gaze down.

He followed the ruinous line through the steel gate, where crowds of distraught citizens screamed their anguish at the grieving army. City guards barricaded the rioting throng with a makeshift fence of wire and their own bodies. Above, domes of blue crystal appeared black in the dying sun. Lanterns swelled along the path to lead the tired army through the city; their crimson flickered in hollowed faces, making monsters out of victims.

On uncertain feet, the soldiers pressed through the aetheryte plaza. The massive crystal hummed with a power that scraped at the integrity of their scrambled aether, intensifying what pain had dulled. They spilled into the courtyard at the foot of the Crystal Tower. Some exhausted themselves to climb the stairs for shade, bickered over the walls to lean on, and threw their kits and aching selves to the ground. Several stood defiantly rather than collapse, or to allow the injured room to lay down.

Chains rattled in the southern thoroughfare. The marketplace gate opened to release a wave of people and pushcarts burdened by crates of water. Doctors and priests and volunteers and still more soldiers flooded the area. Bread crumbled in famished hands, lost identification pins skid across the ground, strips of gauze webbed around shuffling feet. Someone flung their helmet at a wall in frustration. The reverberating sound ripped curses and shouts from already sore throats. A fight broke out around the suspect.

Elliot knew better than to ask for help when his plight could not compare to most others. He accepted whatever aid came to him, kept his mouth shut, and tried to ignore the questions around him: who’s that boy? a eulmoran? fuck. a stowaway? a spy? Whatever their words, he was not to be respected, and he learned terribly that to be talked about but never spoken to was a harsher punishment than every ignorance he lost in the siege.

[eremiss]

18. Wilt

(set after Jitter)

Gwen materializes in the Crystarium’s aetheryte plaza and, despite the uncomfortable feeling twisting in her stomach and ghosting over her skin, sighs with relief. The little motion knocks loose a bit of dust and grit, though not enough to make much of a difference.

Sand is everywhere, in everywhere, thanks to the sandstorm that kicked up as she, Cerigg and Taynor returned to Mord Souq. She pities that they had to stay behind, partially out of need to continue their search for clues, partially due to their lack of anima. It’s fortunate for them, then, that the residents of the desert are well versed in how to protect themselves from such turns of the weather.

When Gwen last glimpsed them through blustery haze of grit and dust, they’d been ducking into one such shelter.

But gripes about sand, and attempts to rid herself of it, could both wait. As could whatever news or requests had undoubtedly accumulated in her brief absence.

Her journal hadn’t been in her bag, something she’d discovered only a few bells into her trip to the desert, when she’d gone to retrieve it. When a cursory search didn’t cause it to turn up, her composure had started to slip. She’d turned her bag inside out and searched everywhere, Taynor and Cerigg had even helped and retraced her steps with her, but it was nowhere to be found. 

Gwen immediately makes a beeline for the Pendants, moving just below a run with her eyes scouring the street, and all but tosses her gil at the aetheryte attendant. She’ll feel bad for that later, when she’s less distracted.

She could have sworn she packed it, she hadn’t seen it on her desk--

“Gwen?” A familiar voice calls behind her.

--but that was where it should have been if it wasn’t in her pack, because she’d been writing in it and--

“Gwen!”

She tosses a look over her shoulder, catching sight of white hair and a white coat in her peripheral vision. Rather than stopping she waves for him to follow and turns her gaze back to the street.

A moment later Thancred catches up to her, his long gait easily keeping pace with hers. “You’re in quite a rush,” he points out conversationally.

“My journal wasn’t in my bag when I got to Mord Souq,” Gwen replies, brow furrowed as she continues to scour the streets. She knew, if her journal had tumbled from her bag as she ran to the aetheryte, that the chances of it still being where it fell were slim to the point of near-nonexistence, but going back along the same route and looking along the way couldn’t hurt.

There’s a pause. “I take it you thought it would be.”

“I could’ve sworn I’d grabbed it, but, ah,” Gwen makes a mildly frustrated gesture, starting down some steps. “I don’t know, I wasn’t paying attention. I packed and unpacked my bag a few times, and by the end I lost track of what was in it.”

Another pause that stretches on for longer. “...’A few’ times?”

“Twice,” she admits. Embarrassment is there but far away, her mind too preoccupied running in circles, trying to come up with what to do next if searching the street should prove fruitless.

There’s always the chance she’d left it in her room. But she could have sworn…

“Being thorough?” he drawls.

Gwen shoots him a pouty look to find he’s also searching, eyes steadily moving about the street. The sight lifts her mood a little. “I was anxious and it was something to do.”

“Anxious?”

“Well, I,” they part like a river around two people who stopped to chat and then come back together again, “I was thinking a lot.”

“Perhaps too much?”  Thancred is apparently content to chat while they look.

She tosses a hand in a vague, unconcerned gesture, “Maybe. And I was writing, too. So maybe I didn’t pack it, but I didn’t see it on my desk when I checked.” If her hair wasn’t braided she’d be pulling on it right now. 

Surely it’s in her room, right? Where else could it-- She cuts that question off and pushes it away. It wouldn’t go anywhere good. But she’d checked her desk, where it should have been, before she left and it hadn’t been there.

“About what?”

“About--”

Their argument and all of the worrying and reconsidering and agonizing she’d done beforehand shoves out from beneath the all-consuming desperation to find her journal, dislodging her train of thought in the process. 

Gwen slows, suddenly feeling winded.

Thancred slows as well, a curious look on his face.

She stops.

He does too.

The air feels thicker suddenly, and the buzz of the crowd is farther away. Suddenly it feels like they’re somewhere else, by themselves, rather than off to one side of a busy street. 

Gwen chews the corner of her lip. All of her spare time with Taynor and Cerigg had been spent examining and reexamining that argument. She’d even gotten their perspectives on a few things via allusions and excessive hypotheticals that ensured Thancred’s anonymity.

Of course she hadn’t forgotten about the whole thing. But her priorities had arranged and rearranged themselves a few times over their days apart, and at the end ‘get out of the sandstorm’ had been firmly in the lead with the gnawing anxiety of her lost journal snapping its heels. She’d then let that become her primary concern because, even if she wasn’t thinking about it, the latent knowledge that her journal was lost had been gnawing at her, ceaseless and distracting. She didn’t have much space in her head for even a casual conversation, let alone reconciling. 

She hadn’t expected anyone to be waiting for her… Much like how she hadn’t expected Thancred to knock on her door a few days ago.

“I, ah…” Should’ve waited. I already felt guilty about putting it off once, and then I worked myself up about the whole thing, and I was distracted by a million things. I spent as much time getting tied up in hypothetical arguments as I did putting my thoughts together and figuring out where my head was at, so my thoughts were a jumbled mess. I was annoyed and impatient with myself, and that turned into me getting as snappy as him, and then it all turned into a fight. The words run under her tongue and down her throat, knotting in her chest. ‘Should’... There really isn’t a ‘should’. I could have waited. And... well, maybe should have too, but only so it would’ve gone more smoothly, not because that would have made it work out. Waiting wouldn’t have guaranteed a different outcome, only how we got there. There’s no way to know for sure. I shouldn’t have started such an important, sensitive conversation with the expectation that one talk would cause some sort of epiphany or paradigm shift, waiting or not. He’s stubborn, I know that, and losing my patience made everything worse.

“Dove.” Thancred’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts, and she finds him studying her with a thoughtful look. “I assume you’re thinking about our,” one of his brows lifts slightly, and his expression twists like he’d just taken a bite of something bitter, “‘discussion’ the other day?”

Of course he knew. Five years was a long time, but not too long that he couldn’t read her, apparently. 

Gwen’s gaze flicks aside and then back, and she shrugs.

His expression softens and his voice quiets, “I do hope you haven’t gone two days thinking it was your fault.”

“I’m the one who started it,” she reminds him, tone hovering awkwardly around the edge of joking in an attempt at levity.

One corner of his mouth ticks up for a fraction of a second, then his expression slides into something more pensive and collected.

The air between them no longer felt quite so stifling, but it wasn’t calm and relaxed either.

Thancred’s expression draws inward slightly before he opens his mouth. A moment later he closes it without speaking. 

A few seconds pass, the two of them standing a few fulms apart and simply looking at one another. He finally says, “You started a conversation, or at least tried to. I started a fight. One of those is far more ignoble than the other.”

Technically correct, though there are a few arguments to be made about purposefully starting conversations about sensitive topics. She keeps it to herself for the moment, they could fight for blame after they’d cleared the air.

Looking at him now, no longer distracted by her desperate searching, Gwen realizes that Thancred looks... worn out. Faint shadows hang under his eyes, and there’s something rigid and uneasy in the way he’s holding himself.

He’s most of a yalm away, too, rather than standing right next to her.

Gwen blinks, lips pursing slightly. When…? Has he been that far away this whole time?

Taking the change in her expression as agreement, Thancred continues, “You had concerns and tried to address them, rather than confining them to your own mind or your journal. If I recall correctly, I had asked you to do just that, even had a little chat about it, before,” he nods meaningfully towards the Crystal Tower, “all of this started.”

Gwen picks at sand and grit off her clothes to give her hands something to do. She’s a little surprised, and pleased, he remembers that. “I remember. And I remember saying I’d try.” His request to be more open, to talk more, had played a bit of a role, it’s true. But not enough of one for that whole mess to be called ‘his fault’.

His eyes slide to the side and then down, his expression pulling further inward until it very much resembled a look of consternation.

Thancred lifts a hand in a request for patience just as Gwen opens her mouth again. 

She debates for a moment before folding her arms loosely and waiting. 

Taking turns, in a sense, would make all this go more smoothly than interrupting one another or putting word’s in each others’ mouths. Full thoughts would make more sense than half-finished ones. Proper listening would do both of them more good than merely waiting for their chance to speak.

Thancred takes a slow breath and smooths his expression into something more mild and collected, gaining a certain air of resolve along the way. “You tried to speak with me, to have a conversation. I do think there were more graceful ways to approach it, but still, you made an effort to be straightforward and plain with your concerns. And I dismissed you out of hand before you’d said so much as two words. When you pressed the issue, I let my emotions get the better of me. I turned it into an argument, and then a fight, and,” he half-cringes, “I lost my temper.”

She keeps the little burst of half-formed words behind her teeth, as the look on his face says he’s got more to say. She waits, rubbing cloth and grains of sand between her fingers.

“There’s no excuse for it, and I don’t intend to try and make one. I won’t let it happen again.” He lets out a heavy breath, sagging a little, and drags his gaze up to meet hers, “I’m sorry, Gwen.”

A million words clatter around in her head, some clicking together out of order and others knotting up and crumbling like sand. Soon her head is full all over again, mostly with sand. 

Thancred looks vaguely expectant, and a bit nervous, maybe, but he seems content to wait as long as she needs.

How does someone respond to that? What is she supposed to say? What should she say?

Gwen’s expression shifts and bends, eyes moving over the distance between them and his rigid posture. “Is that why you’re all the way over there?”

Thancred blinks, glancing down at the space he’s left between them. He shifts his weight and folds his arms, “I thought you might appreciate space,” he says, slightly awkwardly.

Gwen’s mouth pulls to one side and she tilts her head slightly. A few words and threads of thought come out of the sand. “I’m not angry, you know. A little frustrated, yes, but not angry. Or intimidated, or... anything else like that.”

Thancred lowers his head slightly, looking somehow both relieved and not.

Gwen breathes in, chest only the slightest bit tense, and when she exhales some of the sand goes with it. The effort unearths a few more thoughts, though they’re tangled up and thorny. “I... Being honest, I don’t regret bringing all of that up,” Thancred’s expression is unreadable, and she tries not to think about it, “but I’m sorry for how I went about it. I lost my temper, too. It takes two to fight.”

His mouth bends with a frown that doesn’t --quite-- look like disagreement.

“You’re right that... There were better ways to go about trying to broach the subject, and better ways to approach the whole thing in general. Jumping straight in isn’t exactly a delicate approach.”

His eyes slip aside again, expression shifting to one of slightly-begrudging contemplation. “Starting off with my ears blocked up certainly didn’t make it any easier.”

She dips her chin, conceding the point. “Trying bull through and badger you into talking isn’t delicate, either.”

“...Fair.”

“I don’t regret,” she pauses, “bringing it all up. And I don’t regret... what I was trying to say. But I am sorry for how I said it, and for losing my patience and yelling. I just made everything worse, and I... What I said wasn’t fair to you, either. I’m sorry.”

“I raised my voice first,” Thancred points out quietly. “And I was hardly being charitable with my words. Everyone’s patience has its limits; even after five years I should know yours.”

Something light, if feeble, pokes out of the sand. She regards him with a mildly-annoyed look, like the one he’s given her so many times. “Is this what it feels like to have the person you’re trying to apologize to apologize right back?”

After a moment to process it, his eyes lighten a little. “That habit of yours, you mean? A bit.”

Gwen huffs through her nose in mock affront, and his eyes lighten a little more.

The silence that follows is more comfortable, though still tinged with uneasiness, still a little fragile.

“You’ll think about what I said, right? Er, rather, what I...was trying to say?” Gwen asks, even though asking makes her heart skitter nervously. “Later, I mean.”

Thancred breathes a sigh that sounds weary, almost long-suffering. “Yes.”

“Particularly the part about me being here for you and wanting to help?”

His expression softens. “...Yes.”

The sand begins to disappear, knots start loosening. Gwen steps closer and stops, tilting her head slightly to ask if that was alright.

Thancred hesitates, then drops his arms. He steps forward when she does, and they meet almost in the middle.

Gwen lifts a hand to his cheek, brushing her thumb under the shadow beneath his eye. “You look tired.”

He doesn’t answer for a moment, leaning into her touch. “I was thinking a lot.”

“Perhaps too much?” she offers with a slight smile.

Thancred sags like a wilting flower, leaning down to rest his forehead against hers. He closes his eyes, looking a little relieved but mostly weary. “I am sorry, Gwen,” he murmurs, soft and heavy. “Truly.”

“I know.” She brushes her thumb back and forth across his cheek and his expression shifts more towards relieved. “I am too.” 

He doesn’t answer, and his expression doesn’t change.

She adds, “I forgave you before I even reached the aetheryte.”

Thancred sighs and wilts a little more, almost like he was disappointed. “Of course you did.”

“Hoping I’d be mad?” Gwen asks mutedly, only half-teasing. She knows how he can be. “Maybe... not speak to you? Or rant at you, or something?” 

“Not hoping,” Thancred mutters unconvincingly, lifting a hand to rest on hers.

She tutts at him and he rolls his eyes. 

Thancred frowns suddenly and lifts his head, turning to send a scowl over his shoulder.

Gwen abruptly remembers they’re on the side of a busy street, out in public. Her cheeks starts burning. She rubs her other hand over her face in a futile attempt to wipe the redness away. 

She feels sand and grit scrape her skin.

Sandstorm, need a bath, looking for her journal. She says quietly, “We still haven’t found my journal.”

Thancred huffs and mutters under his breath, squeezing her hand. “Right then, let’s keep looking.”

They found her journal in her room, facedown on the floor in front of her desk. Neither of them speculated about how it got there, choosing instead to be relieved it wasn’t lost.

It, and a few other things.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Somehow I don’t think that last line is gonna imply what I wanted it to. Ah well. I was running out of time @_@

The whole thing didn’t go quite like I wanted, and this is a definite case of “fuuuck throw the prompt word in”, I think. Maybe? Eh.  BUT I got it written, and there are definitely parts I like! Might rework it someday to get out the kinks, but it’s p good :B Talking it out is 10/10, would recommend.

SUBMITTING AT THE LAST MINUTE AGAIN WOOOO

[fairygodpiggy]

As winter's wilds send us fleeing for shelter,

My thoughts turn toward the kiss of Costa's sun.

I think of Westerly winds and sandy shores,

And I know that, soon, the dawn will come.

Ride again, early June.

Q: What is this??

A: Well, this is the first time I've been back on tumblr while this event has been held!

This is a teaser promo for Ride the Tide 2024!

Q: What is Ride the Tide?

A: RTT is a virtual summer/beach festival that is put on in XIV in Costa del Sol. It's planned, sponsored, and held by a XIV discord community I helped to found, The Aetheryte Plaza.

We gather RP venues from all over the NA data centers and together, we run various booths for games, refreshments, and hangouts - including a main stage where well known bards will play to get you into the festival mood!

We try to hold it well out of range of the game's official Moonfire Faire, but before Pride events really start kicking off so we don't detract from them.

This will be Aetheryte Plaza's 5th year hosting the festival, and my 4th year helping with its planning!

Q: What caused AP to start hosting a summer festival?

A: The festival was first conceived by a couple of good friends of mine in 2020, just after shutdowns really started happening. And since vacation plans were out the window for a lot of people, they decided to create a virtual festival...and it was a WILD success.

I was only attending as a venue worker for one of the booths, but I got to see it all at the forefront:

We hit the zone cap!

We got the S rank to spawn in the middle of it!

We had mentors mad at us because they couldn't get their little sprouts through Titan, meanwhile said sprouts were running around with stars in their eyes because it was a FESTIVAL and this was the most players they'd seen outside of the main cities!!

People were posting all their screenshots of their WoLs hanging out together!

It was so cool to see how many people came because...in the middle of the pandemic when we couldn't physically leave, we all needed this.

Q: Is this strictly an RP event?

A: Well...the short answer is no, it's RP-lite.

The long answer is: originally it was going to be during its 1st year, but because of its nature, we got a mixed bag of RPers, casual players, streamers, and people who were just there to vibe...so RP kinda got tossed to the side unless we encountered fellow RPers.

If you're an RPer and you want to RP with the people working the booths, go for it!! They'll happily RP with those who want to.

Q: What's your role in planning?

A: If you've come this far, dear reader, I thank you because if you came here because of the image at the top of this post...then you have half of your answer!

I'm in charge of the media aspect - making teasers and posters, etc ❤️

I'm also in charge of the RTT website and the festival's interactive map. That was my addition when I joined the planning team in 2021. No more need to guess where booths are and what they offer!

However, this...is going to be my last year being on the planning team only because I stress myself way out in the late phases of the event planning, and my best friends are putting their feet down 😅

Thank you again if you read through all of this. If this has piqued anyone's interest, then keep up with me! I'll be including tumblr this year as I share RTT posters in a few months!

[0bsidian5ire]

Promt #6: Instant Polyglot?

Prompt: First Steps from @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast's #ffxivwrite2019

Set right when 2.0 starts

Kharagal is somewhere dark, under an endless night sky, glittering with stars. A light appears, like when the full moon comes out from behind a cloud. It gently whispers in her mind, "Hear-Feel-Think" over and over like falling rain. Kharagal reaches out to touch the light, but something truly dark, something that drinks in the starlight appears between her and the light. It reaches for her to drink her down as well. Somehow, the light Karagal reaches for is now in Kharagal herself. She holds out her hand and the light grows solid in her grip. She is now holding Nhaama's most famous weapon; a shaft of moonlight made solid. Kharagal hurls the Moonbeam at the thing drinking in all the light and the world shatters in a supernova of light.

What in the Underworld was that? Kharagal rubbed away a migraine as she woke up from one of the weirdest dreams she had ever had. It was like the dream she had of Dalamud's fall, but this one felt more... literal... then that one had. Well whatever this dream means, it's a more vague then "you'll have a fun time finding out what happened to Dalamud". By Azim, what time is it? She turned in her hammock to see how bright it was outside and cringed as daylight filtered in through the porthole. Too close to my watch to bother going back to sleep, and we're supposed to get to Limsa today.

After hauling herself out of bed, Kharagal meandered over to the galley of the Reaper's Scythe to help herself to coffee and breakfast. She still had an hour before she was supposed to be on deck and she could take her time with it. She was polishing off her last orange slice when the ship's bell rang out along with a cry of "Limsa sighted!" Immediately, she and everyone else in the galley dropped what they were doing and raced to the top deck.

To the north-west of the giant smoking volcano that had appeared on the horizon days ago was what looked like ship masts with no sails. Only the masts weren't bobbing and if the ship's lookouts were only seeing them now, then they must be huge. They grew steadily larger as the ship approached.

"So that's Limsa Lominsa..." Kharagal said to herself.

"Aye," said Holskhanth, one of the gunners who actually spoke Hingan. "This here's your first time seein' it, right?"

Kharagal laughed, "Yep." And what a view it was!

"In that case, welcome to Eorzea!"

Once the ship was safely moored at Limsa's dock, Kharagal was free to leave. She still stopped to talk to First Mate E’nanghal to make sure everything was square between her and Capitan Boyle. E'nanghal assured her it was and told her that if she ever wanted a lift back to Kugane, Boyle was happy to hire her on again. She also told Kharagal that if the Yellowjackets, Limsa's rougher version of the Sekiseigumi, wanted to cause Kharagal trouble, she was free to mention that Captain Boyle of the Kraken's Arms had been pleased to have her on board the Reaper's Scythe. With that taken care of, Kharagal left the ship for good.

Her first stop was the main aetheryte which she quickly atuned to. She felt a knot of tension ease as she did so; now she was atuned to an aetheryte on either side of the world and never had to worry about taking the long way back to Kugane again.

"Hey! You there! The one with horns and scales! I've never seen you 'round these parts before; where you headed?!" yelled a Roegadyn in a yellow shirt. In perfect Xaela Trade Language.

What

in

Nhaama's

mighty

name?

Kharagal stared at the Roegadyn. There was no way he could know Xaela Trade Language. No one outside the Xaela Lands and a few members of the Confederacy spoke it or even knew it existed. How in the Underworld can he know it, much less with no accent? Kharagal blinked out of her daze and found the Roegadyn was still talking to her.

"...get alon' down to the Drownin' Wench and talk to Baderon. He'll get you set up," the Roegadyn drawled with the air of someone who had said the lines the point he wasn't paying attention to them anymore.

Kharagal just nodded at him and slipped into the throng of people leaving the aetheryte plaza. That had been bazaar, to say the least.

As the crowd wound down around the rock chimney the bazaarness continued. All snatches of conversations Kharagal heard were in the Xaela Trade Language with bits of Hingan thrown in for words that didn't exist in Xaela. None of them talked in the sing-song language the Reaper's Scythe's crew spoke when they weren't using Hingan. So it's not just a one time thing then... I don't know if that's more disturbing or not.

Eventually, the crowd came to an opening in the rock chimney was larger then the others. Hanging above the opening was a painted sign of a woman reaching up towards the surface of the water she was in. At the bottom of the sign was a script Kharagal didn't recognize. It was rounder then the Hingan script she was used to writing in and had more loops to it. Well at least they still write with the script they're supposed to. It was the tavern she had been told to go to. Hopfully things would make more sense inside...

Author's Notes: Gaining the Echo when you don't speak the local language must be really trippy! Especially when a lot of idioms, swear words and figures of speech don't translate literally across languages like... ever.

[anfries]

Prompt #4: Shifting Blame

It was such a beautiful day in Limsa Lominsa. Everyone around was so cheery as they walked around the Aetheryte Plaza. But not Ceviche Amaryllis.

He made his way to the Aftcastle; avoiding everyone’s supposed glances. He made his way to the Maelstrom Command as stealthy as he could. Right before entering he could see them: the group that took down his hunt. The hunt he’s been working on for days! They stood there grinning, patting each other’s backs.

He rolled his eyes. That was his kill. That was his reward!

Whatever…he would just have to get another hunt. A bigger one with a bigger reward.

He made his way towards the hunt post but as soon as he arrived one of the Maelstom officers came by to chat with him. He was definitely not in the mood.

“Oh hey, someone beat you to the prize huh? Sorry about that”

The officer’s face did seem apologetic, but Ceviche didn’t trust it.

“Yeah well the next one’s mine”

He starts rummaging through the list searching for an elite until the officer speaks up again.

“You know…this would be easier if you had at least a partner with ya. Wouldn’t want you to get hurt ya know?”

Ceviche scowls. He says nothing to the officer as he finally finds a hunt that is good enough for him. He gives him a disdained salute and walks on out.

Pfft partners? Please…

If it wasn’t for his previous one he wouldn’t be in this mess. And if it wasn’t for the one before that partner he wouldn’t have had to go on looking for a replacement. He wouldn’t have to go hunting just to have some mere scraps for dinner every night. He wouldn’t have to sleep under the moonlight—and as nice as that sounds it was hell. Yes it was all his fault. Him and his stupid ideas.

He says he had to do it to save both of their lives. He had to get rid of all of their supplies as he would’ve rather lost some mere items than their lives. But those mere items were essential for their survival.

That day he had been knocked off a cliff by an enemy after being disarmed by it. His ex-partner foolishly running over to try to catch him but Ceviche had fallen off the side of the cliff regardless. He looked at the edge as he fell and noticed his ex-partner stupidly jumping over the edge. He noticed his weapon—his lance that he dropped before falling—in his hand. In one fell swoop he had caught Ceviche and had used the lance to stop their descent by lodging it into the side of the cliff. They had stopped but such a foolish action had made Ceviche’s lance unusable in battle. The two had hung on—they were still very high up. The lance couldn’t hold both of their weights much longer—in fact it was useless altogether now. His partner had acted before even soliciting the next course of action. He took their stuff—their gear and let it drop.

Sure it allowed them to hang on for long enough for help to arrive. Sure they were able to see the next day with only a few bruises and scratches here and there when he could’ve been a goner. But it had ruined them. Now they couldn’t afford food. They couldn’t afford shelter. They couldn’t afford any replacement gear. Ceviche had to start from scratch yet again.

After that incident people lost faith in this fighting abilities; saying they got in that mess because Ceviche was never cooperative. Because he couldn’t take his partner’s opinions on the plan into consideration. Because he was too hot-headed that it wound up alerting the monster before he could get a strike in. But they were all wrong.

And it was all his partner’s fault.