#her duties and obligations as a scion and all the world's expectations of her as a warrior of light are becoming her entire identity

[the-rogue-mockingjay]

Sometimes it just hits me like a ping-pong ball to the face that afaik, Aymeric is the first person to bother asking WoL what they want for themselves, the first person to even consider that WoL's wishes and dreams might not actually be the same as their duties as a Scion, and

brother I am on the floor crying abt it

"Now that the dust has settled, what will you do? Not as a Scion, I mean, but...what do you want for yourself?"

[blkgirlsinthefuture]

Glass Ceilings and Exploitation: A Collection of Thoughts

I really enjoyed reading Ironheart this week. I’m a fan of graphic novels and comics because of their ability to take the story to a whole new level and further enrich the dialogue. There were a couple of things that popped out at me while reading so this blog post is a conglomeration of all of those thoughts.

In the beginning pages of the comic, Riri talks about how she “wasn’t meant fly”, speaking specifically on the fate of those who come where she’s from. This was probably some of the survivor’s guilt that she may have after the death of her father and her best friend to gun violence. I thought of her flight as a means of being able to overcome her situation (“getting out of the hood”) and achieve things that people from her neighborhood could only dream of. In the end she says, “…eventually, I have to come right back down to Earth.” As I kept reading about Riri, I began to make the connection between this feeling of flying and coming back down Earth and the established roots that she has that keep bringing her back to Earth. This idea of a person’s roots reminded me of Legendborn and how Bree’s familial roots helped shape who she is and her destiny of being Arthur’s Scion. Riri’s roots shape her and her decision to become Ironheart. Her roots appear to provide her the launching pad to fly and possibly help others fly too but it could also place a “glass ceiling” on how high she can go.

Upon the news of Daija going missing and there being little to no information on what might’ve happened to her, Riri comes straight back to her neighborhood to investigate. She discovers that Daija got had got entangled in the operations of a crooked politician and a group of villains. She then stops some thugs who had tried to extort her local corner store, resulting in her taking some serious damage. I could see even more of a connection with Legendborn and Ironheart in terms of how one’s roots can come with responsibilities, obligations, and duties whether they’re unwanted or not. Riri feels obligated to fight because if she doesn’t, no one will. She puts herself in danger for the sake of others. You can only fly so high when your roots hold you down. On the other side of the coin, her roots are her support system and what inspired her to create the suit. Xavier and her mom make a point to make sure she’s taking care of herself and not locking herself away from the world. Her mom tries to convince to even attend a support group with her so that she can get even more support. Without her roots, Riri would definitely lose herself in the world of superheroes.

Riri’s interactions with Dean Bryant really bothered me even though their interactions were limited. The interaction really spoke to the exploitation of black bodies for their work. Black people are responsible for the creation of an array of items that we couldn’t live like we do without. One specific example is the creation of Jack Daniels. It was Nathan “Nearst” Green who taught Jack Daniels a special brewing technique that gives the whisky its signature flavor. It wasn’t until centuries later that the company admitted its true history. I watch Riri create these amazing designs in the lab at MIT but it’s clear that they want her ideas and her labor and have no regard for her person. People parade in and out of her lab and she’s expected by Dean Bryant smile and act like a puppet for the guests. She stands in the room while people are in awe of her work like she’s nothing more than an inanimate object. Riri definitely struggles with having access to so many resources but knowing her work was not really her own if she utilized those resources. Being able to get her own space to create without any interruptions will give Riri the space she needs to soar.

[starswornoaths]

Her Pendants, His Garden

A commission for my dear friend @karoiseka of her girl and the resident crystal catboy! Post 5.0 below the cut, but no spoilers for the new patch, so you’re safe and sound to read! Thank you so much for your patronage, hon!

Commission Info!

If there was one thing, just the one, that the Exarch would consider a secret he would rather be kept to himself for fear of mockery, it would be that he felt something of an understanding of trees.

“Understanding,” might be a poor choice of word, though he wasn’t sure how else to describe the feeling he grappled with, standing still in the boundless, beautiful garden that was all of Lakeland, knowing he was the oldest thing in it. The lilac colored grass, the lavender elf trees, the brilliant blooms that had sprung to life...all things he toiled to help bring to life, things he had watched stretch ever higher, ever toward the sky. 

Perhaps that was why he struggled to consider himself wholly selfless: how could he plant trees whos shade he would never walk in, knowing that he would live for eons, as the Crystal Exarch?

“Your thoughts are loud.” His companion— his dearest one— mused at his side.

He turned toward her, the Warrior of Light and Darkness both, and couldn’t help but smile. Karoiseka hadn’t so much as looked his way, and yet she still knew him well enough that he was, once more, getting very much into his own head.

“Can you hear them? Do you know what I’m thinking?” The Exarch asked with a playful smirk. 

Truly, it wouldn’t surprise him in the least to discover that she knew exactly that he was thinking about; more often than not, she seemed to have an eerie, almost preternatural sense of what was weighing on his mind. As long as she never suspected he had a gift for her on his person, then he might yet manage to surprise her with something that wasn’t potentially world ending today.

“I’m not a mind reader, Crystal Boy,” she reminded him, and then she turned to face him, bending to peer up at him from under his hood. “But I can practically hear the gears in your head turning. That rarely means anything good.”

“I think of plenty of positive things!” G’raha insisted, even as he tugged his hood down to shy away from those piercing eyes of hers. 

“Oh? And what are you thinking of?” She asked with a perk of her ear and a swish of her tail.

He watched Karo straighten as they continued to walk down the garden path, and felt a twinge of guilt at not wanting to explain what, precisely, he had been ruminating over. His mind hadn’t wandered far before she had pulled him back to the present, thank goodness, but even with how close they had become, how much he loved her, endlessly, he struggled with trying to put to words how he felt regarding the years he had lived, and how much farther they stretched than they should have. 

No, better to think of the present. Of the warmth of her hand in his. Of the happiness, the want to live that she inspired in him. Of how he had never looked forward to tomorrow so much as he did when she reentered his life. Better to focus on her.

“I was ruminating on the weather, and hoping it holds for our outing,” he said instead— technically also the truth. 

“Oh, is that all?” Karo asked, and threw her head back in a laugh as if in relief.

The sound was bright and genuine. Her laugh was a ray of sunshine that he lingered in, warmed by her radiance. How quickly she made such concerns as nigh immortality seem so petty, compared to committing the present to memory. Historian and archivist as he was, he would be remiss in his duties to not take in her every brilliant facet.

So he decided to let himself be G’raha Tia today— and more specifically, just for her, he could let himself be Raha.

She made a point to reach for the hand not yet turned crystal, to make sure he could feel her touch and be comforted by it. He was glad he had foregone his usual arm wrappings; he’d have her touch as unobstructed as he could manage. He readily laced their fingers together and moved that inconsequential, crucial ilm closer to her, to unmake the distance entirely.

Karoiseka had done as much for him, had waded through the void and been battered by the stars themselves, had fought her way along the better path, all just to reach him. It was the least he could do to embrace the life she had battled so desperately for him to have— and to embrace her, for the love they had unexpectedly found along the way. 

Their walk wasn’t far— he could only wander so far from the Crystarium when not away on business, after all— though when they finally stopped at the shore of the lake, they at last came to a stop. After a scan to ensure they were well and truly alone, they set bow and staff alike against the tree beside them at the lakefront, a physical way to show that they had both unburdened themselves of titles and obligations, if only for this singular moment to enjoy their surroundings and one another alike. The breeze coming off the lake was refreshing, and the way it caught her hair when she turned to look at him stole his breath. Though really, she always did that anyway.

For a moment, they took in their surroundings— and each other— though the Exarch eventually gave into his own selfish desire and draped his arm warmly around Karoiseka’s shoulders. He didn’t dare tug her closer, he didn’t want to push her in any way, though he deliberately angled himself ever so slightly toward her in silent invitation.

When she let out a happy hum and bumped her head into his chest as a show of affection, she stumbled back unexpectedly when her temple connected with the spot he’d hidden his gift to her— the box tucked away in his breast pocket. 

“Oof— what—” She startled, gently rubbing at her temple.

A moment of panic hit him when she managed to hit the one spot on his chest he had hoped to conceal, though it was easy enough to hide that panic with the equally genuine panic of fretting over his beloved.

“A-ah! I’m so sorry, Karo—!” The Exarch let go of her hand and stepped in front of her with a swiftness that blew his hood off of his head. He ignored the way only one of his hands felt the gentle warmth of her skin when he cupped her face in his hands and tilted it up closer for inspection. “You hit one of the embellishments on my coat— did it hurt you?”

“No, no, you’re being silly.” Karoiseka insisted, flushing prettily beneath his searching fingertips, bright eyes averted even as she didn’t pull away from him. She pouted most endearingly when he smoothed his thumbs over her cheekbones. “You can stop fussing.”

“I have. Now, I am admiring!” The Exarch laughed, glad that he managed to sidestep her discovering the gift he had before he was ready to give it. “To have such beauty in my grasp, how could I not?”

“Oh! Y-you—!” Flustering, Karoiseka swatted at his chest— and when her hand smacked the hard, decidedly square box in his coat that accompanied a strange rattling, her hand froze there. The discomposed expression on her face twisted into a ponderous arch of her brow, a shift of her sharp gaze, and a curious tilt of her head against his hands. “Wait...what is…?”

He realized a second too late that she was staring at it, her fingers molding over the edges, flexing, inspecting, testing.

“Ah.” Knowing when he was caught and cornered, the Exarch sighed, removing his hands from her face to scratch at his cheek and fiddle with a tassel on his coat in nervous habit. “I had meant to surprise you with it.”

Her hand still remained enclosed over his coat, around the box, though she made no move to attempt to divest him of it for closer inspection. After a moment, her fingers went lax, no longer gripping around the edges, and shifted away from the box altogether to lay over his heart instead.

“You needn’t surprise me with anything. You know that.” She said, and it struck him how quietly she spoke those words.

The thought occurred to him that she might think the surprise grave, given his previous attempts at secrecy with her and the rest of the Scions. Or she might not have expected him to want to give her gifts.

Or...was she unaccustomed to it? Was it unwelcome? The thought hadn’t even occurred to him before now, though suddenly the slight weight of the gift in his breast pocket felt as dense as lead, and he had to make a concerted effort to swallow his heart when it leapt into his throat the moment that panic gripped him. 

“I know. I wanted to!” The Exarch managed around a stammer, mentally cursing himself all the while. Nevertheless, he persisted, “It was the least I could do— I feel as though we’ve hardly had a moment to ourselves, and I wanted to show you how much I—”

“You’re babbling, Crystal Boy.” She chided gently, words wrapped in a giggle and formed around a broad smile. “Be at ease. I’m flattered, I just want you to know I don’t expect it.”

“Ah. Ah!” His ears perking with realization were enough to give away that he hadn’t realized he’d gotten caught in a bit of a loop, his brightly blushing face only flushed all the deeper the more he looked at Karoiseka, who for her part was watching him with growing amusement. “Y-yes, of course! I’m glad to have surprised you— or rather! Surprised you in a good way— or in what I hope is a good way—” 

At Karoiseka’s pointedly blanched expression, brows raised in a very clear show of waiting for him to be quite finished with his anxious rambling, he visibly straightened himself as he cleared his throat, and when she removed her hand from his chest he made an effort to tug his robes back into place. 

“I should stop overthinking it, I think.” He admitted in a calmer tone.

“I agree.” She replied in a flat tone.

“Right.” With a deep breath to collect himself, he tried, again, to find his eloquence. “Karo. I know I’ve likely exhausted you for how much I remind you of how happy you make me.”

“You don’t. That’s impossible.” Karoiseka corrected him. Her ears tweaked in amusement as she offered a bashful smile. “I could never get tired of you in any sense of the word.”

“...Right.” He amended, ignoring the heat growing on his face. He was fairly certain his blush was spreading clear down to his chest by now.

When he averted his eyes from her patient, expectant gaze, he couldn’t help but let his focus shift to her bow, crossed over his staff and propped against the tree. It’s familiar blue crystals shimmered faintly in the sunlight, dappled with an iridescent kaleidoscope of fractals of light. 

Once he’d found his courage again and he peered at her with a sidelong glance, she looked ethereal, breathtaking, and somehow that made the words come easier. 

“Though I was not the one that gave you the bow you now wield, I know it was crafted with fragments of the tower.” 

“So I was told.” With a content hum, Karoiseka nodded. “But really, I could tell even before the weaponsmith said so— only so many crystals that are this shade of blue.”

“I rather liked the idea of a part of my home going with you on your journeys. To accompany you when I cannot.” The Exarch felt himself wince as he continued, “But I misliked the idea of only offering a part of me as a weapon for you. To mark you as an arbiter of the Crystal Exarch. Such an implication felt ill suited for you.”

“I never viewed it that way.” She tried to reassure him, though when he held up a hand to signal he wasn’t quiet done talking, she offered him a grin filled to the brim with fond exasperation. “Alright, alright, go on. I’m listening.”

Helpless in the face of his affection, helpless in front of her as he always was, the hand he’d held up moved to close the distance between them, to cup her face in his hand. She eagerly leaned into his touch, though her eyes twinkled in mischief when she snuck a kiss to his palm as she did so. Despite his flustering at her affectionate antics, her affection eased him into finally reaching into his coat with his free hand and producing the box she had bumped into. 

“I would much rather offer you a piece of my home that I had taken myself, and made into something that served no other purpose than to bring you joy.” He murmured, and slid his hand from her face to open it. “I wanted you to always have a part of me with you, to show the world— any world that you’re in— that I am yours, Karo. Always.”

The Exarch’s breath caught in his throat at the way she peered into the box, her eyes wide as saucers and her lips parted in shock. Though she moved a hand in the space between them, it hovered there, moving neither without nor within. She stood, transfixed by the two crystal hair tassels inlaid in the box. There was such little movement that for a moment, he feared he had offended her.

Then she spoke.

“Raha...” Karoiseka whispered in a voice that trembled with the weight of reverence and unshed tears in equal measure. 

That one utterance unmade him entirely, struck him at his heart, and before he could even register the sting of tears in the corners of his eyes— and in hers— she launched herself into his arms. Even unfeeling as it was, his crystalline arm wrapped around her to clutch her closer without thought, without anything but the instinctive need to always keep her close to him and remind him that he was human, that he was alive. He managed to avoid spilling the crystal tassels out of the box, even as he yet stumbled to keep them both upright from the force of her impact.

He made to ask if she was alright when he heard a telltale sniffle from somewhere around his shoulder. Her arms— powerful, fierce, unyielding as they were— squeezed him so tightly that he felt every jagged piece of his crystalline heart fit back into place. She had that effect on him all the time, really, but the physicality of it was soothing. 

“You like them?” He asked in spite of himself, just to be sure.

Karoiseka slipped her arms from him and stepped back, gazing at him with wide, glassy eyes, and in lieu of her own babbling, she smiled wide enough to make the corners of her eyes crinkle, enough to make those tears slip down her cheeks, even as she vigorously nodded. His posture softened in relief, and he moved to gesture toward the box still in his grip.

“Would you like me to put them on for you?” He offered.

With another enthusiastic nod of her head and another sniffle, he handed her the box and took the first of the two tassels in hand.

“They’re not too complicated— I am not much of a goldsmith, admittedly— a simple hinge and a clasp was about all I could manage.” He spoke softly as he clasped the first one around the end of one of her braids. “Though Iola was instrumental in ensuring that my handiwork was of suitable durability, for a blessing. I wanted to make sure these would endure whatever trials and tribulations you may face.”

“They’re beautiful.” Karoiseka finally managed to croak out, and from what he could see in his peripheral view, she was peering down at the other tassel, still in the box. “I can’t put to words how much this means to me.”

“You needn’t.” The Exarch reassured her, taking the second tassel. “That you would wear them so gladly is proof enough. I only hope these small tokens can convey even a little of how much you mean to me.” 

“Of course they do!” She reassured him.

The second braid he aimed to adorn was a little smaller, and a little trickier to put a tassel on. The fiddling gave him time to babble distractedly, letting his heart be more honest with her.

“I know that obligations have kept us both busy— and I, in particular have been scarce of late for my work. I feared it would be less apparent how I cherish you, so I suppose this is something of a declaration of mine, if you would have it.” 

“Always.” She promised him. 

The clasp finally worked through her braid and secured itself properly, though he lingered, his hands moving almost on their own, completely naturally, to hold her face again. 

“No matter what happens, I beg you to never doubt my heart, or your ownership of it.” His hands guided her head into tilting down just an ilm, just enough for him to press a kiss to her forehead. “I love you.” Her head straightened, and he kissed the tip of her nose, cherishing the way it crinkled cutely under the attention. “I love you.” The third kiss, she met him half way for, their lips finding one another in soft enthusiasm. “I love you, Karo.”

The tears she had managed to swallow came back in full force, though her smile had never been bigger or brighter, and he had never felt so warm.

“And I love you, Raha.” She whispered, overwhelmed. 

When she moved to embrace him again, he marveled at the way her new hair tassels caught the light that filtered through the tree branches, and shattered it in resplendent rainbows across her shoulder, across his chest. It seemed most fitting to him, as she had always been the sun spot that he had lingered in, a shunned outcast finding refuge and acceptance. In her arms, even the parts of him he had lost to the tower felt warm.

[sweetsweetnathan]

A Shot in the Dark (1 of 2)

I knew it was a bad idea, but I went along with it anyways.

We were out of options. No one in Doma wanted to fight the Empire-- anyone strong enough to fight had been killed or recruited. Everyone else was, understandably, too scared. And what could either Yugiri or I say to them? The Empire held in their hands the lives of every Doman citizen. Every day the Doman people were reminded of this. What did we have to bargain with that was more valuable than their lives?

“I am an outsider,” Yugiri said, “both to Eorzea and Doma. I was raised beneath the waves and hold no title to which Domans must answer. If they prefer subjugation to revolution I must accept it.”

And outwardly she did. But it all seemed so hopeless. We had trained so hard. I had endorsed her as the Eorzean Alliance’s best chance at an insurgency against the Empire. Yet without an army there could be no revolution. She’d have no home, and I would likely be expected to die in Doma for my misplaced faith.

So when Zenos Yae Galvus suddenly arrived to inspect the Gate in front of Doma Castle, Yugiri and I smelled an opportunity to at least die heroically.

Alisae and Lyse disagreed with the plan. Similar to the Doman people, I can’t hold this against them. But Alisae and Lyse are Scions of the Seventh Dawn; they have no obligation to follow anyone’s orders. I have my duty as an agent of the Alliance. Yugiri is bound to her duty as a shinobi.

Our logic was simple: Lacking viable strategic options we had to “Play to our outs”, as they say in Triple Triad. Can we defeat Zenos in a straight fight? No. Our only option was to roll the dice on a surprise attack.

Fighting Zenos straight-up, I figure Yugiri and I had a less than 1% chance of defeating him. A two-on-one surprise attack, however, afforded us a 5% chance. Were we ever going to get better odds than that? It relied on Zenos making a mistake. It relied on us performing perfectly. It relied on luck favoring us on every axis we could think of, as well as a few we couldn’t anticipate...

But combat is chaotic, and even Zenos can die a foolish death if he’s not careful.

Between the two of us, how many young people have Yugiri and I sent to equally suicidal missions? We try our best to manage the risks, but circumstances don’t always allow for a commander to pick their battles. When we lie awake at night thinking about the lives lost due to our orders, whether friend or foe, we tell ourselves that’s just how it is sometimes. If every foot-soldier in every war suddenly became aware of their actual chance of dying in battle, we’d have world peace within a day.

We’d be hypocrites if we weren’t willing to take the same risk ourselves. So we chose that moment to take our shot.

[kaoru-takaida]

Shadowbringers Chapter:

COMING TO LIGHT

*Contains Shadowbringers spoilers*

Hope stretches and opens her eyes. She looks over to her left. Alphinaud is in the bed next to her, his nightgown poking out from under the blankets, his left hand on the pillow inches from his face, his hair down and sprawled out in every direction over the fluffy pillows. She smiled, sitting up. She shakes her head, her short white hair falling in its proper place in a few shakes, despite the slight curls that had set in from sleep. She stands up to walk over to the wash room when a couple of gentle knocks are heard at the door.

Hope fixes her nightgown and opens the door. Alisaie stands there, already dressed, and looking ready for business. She looks at Hope. "Have you got a moment?" Hope steps out of the room, closing the door behind her. Alisaie crosses her arms. "Alphinaud told you about Kaoru hiding something, I take it?" Hope sighs, fussing with her hair a second.

"Yeeeeah... But, Alisaie..." She shrugs. "I don't understand why you're insisting on pressing her for the details. Everyone has their secrets and everyone goes through their ordeals." Hope crosses her arms now too. "She wants to take care of it herself. And she'll just get mad if we interfere with that."

Alisaie scowls, dropping her hands to her sides, fists clenched. "Normally, I'd agree... but something is definitely happening over there that I fear she might not be able to handle..." Alisaie sighs. "I've got something I need to tell you." Hope cocks an eyebrow. "But promise me you won't disregard it."

Hope chuckles once. "Of course! You know I wouldn't." Alisaie gives a small smile. "What's up?"

Alisaie's smile fades. "When each of us were called here, our souls were still connected to our bodies still left on the Source." Alisaie puts a hand on her hip. "Which is to be expected, but the barrier between worlds keeping us here usually made the connection very thin. However, since we are still connected to our bodies, we've each had instances where we could feel our bodies back on the Source."

Hope tilts her head showing her surprise. "Wow, that's actually pretty crazy." Alisaie nods.

"It's nothing notorious. And since all of our bodies are confined to a single room, none of us have had any feeling that seemed of import..." Alisaie sighs. "Till last night..." Alisaie clenches her fists again. "I heard a gunshot. Loud and clear. Followed by a blood curdling scream." Hope's jaw drops in alarm. "And then nothing." Alisaie scowls.

Hope does now too. "What do you think it means?"

Alisaie shakes her head. "I haven't the foggiest idea..." She puts a hand to her chin, thinking. "However, when I had contacted Urianger about it, he told me that I should talk to Tius in that overly worded way of his." Alisaie shrugs. "But Tius is no where to be seen." Hope takes a second to consider this.

"Time on the Source has been sped up compared to the First. And Kaoru had been gone a day here." Hope thinks aloud.

"That would be about a week on the Source." Alisaie tells her. "If Urianger availed Tius the reasoning of Kaoru's infatuation with remaining on the Source, then mayhap we just missed Tius leaving for Eorzea." Hope tsks.

"Shit..." Hope says under her breathe. "Then the next best thing to do is ask G'raha if he knows anything about this and if he sent Tius back." Alisaie gives Hope an affirmative nod. Hope sighs, heart sinking. "Let me go get ready."

Arenvald grabs onto Kaoru's hands as she stands from her cot in a corner of Master Matoya's cave. "Easy now, girl. Lest you want a repeat of last time."

Kaoru gives her a reassuring look. "Aye, Master. I've spent a week in bed, I think I'm ready to walk." Arenvald shrugs.

"Mayhap Master Matoya is right. You've only just gotten feeling back in your legs." He reasons. "You shouldn't push yourself." Kaoru shakes her head.

"I haven't the time to be sitting around. I need to be back to full strength now more than ever." Kaoru looks down at her slippers. "I am walking today, regardless." Master Matoya sighs.

"Stubborn child." Matoya utters. Kaoru gives a sad smile to her and the looks down at her slippers again.

She looks at the table a few fulms away. She takes a step and Arenvald let's her hands go. She takes another shaky step forward, her body swaying a second before she corrected it. She's concentrating very hard. She reaches her hands forward for balance. She takes another step forward, but as she does her right knee gives out and she falls forward.

She latches onto the table, only to have it tip over and crash to the floor next to her. A few cups containing drinks crack to the stone floor and the table cloth slides off. She falls with a dry thud and winces in pain, groaning. "Kaoru!" Matoya and Arenvald turn to see Tius standing there, in a new outfit, and looking worried. He rushes over to Kaoru, dropping his bag while he did. Kaoru's eyes are wide. Almost in fear, but Matoya could tell there was a semblance of embarrassment and panic.

"Tius!" Arenvald says.

Tius takes Kaoru's hand, kneeling next to her. His ears pull back and he clenches his teeth, his fangs showing a bit. "What in the Hells is happening here?" Arenvald shakes his head, waving his hands in denial.

"It's not-."

Master Matoya drops her staff onto Tius's head, not too hard, but rough for him to shout an "Ow!"

"Calm yourself, tomcat!" Matoya yells. Tius rubs his head. "Let the girl explain herself!" Tius looks over at Kaoru who looks a bit paniced.

Hope steps into the Ocular. G'raha turns from his spot in front of his magic Crystal mirror. His ears perk up at the sight of Hope. "Hope! What a pleasure it is to see you." He tilts his head. "Though, judging by the look on your face, something is amiss?"

"Did Tius ask you to send him back to the Source?" Hope asks.

G'raha closes his red eyes, sighing a bit. "Yes. He did. And I was happy to oblige him, of course." Hope points at the portal.

"Send me too. Right now." Hope tells him. But G'raha does not move. Simply gives her a look of uncertainty and regret almost. "G'raha..."

"Alas... I can not." He answers. Hope scowls.

"Excuse me?"

G'raha's ears drop forward and down, showing he knew he was in trouble. "Look... Kaoru had asked not to let both you and Tius through unless it was an emergency."

Hope clenches her fists. "You let Tius through though! Why won't you send me?"

G'raha scowls a little, diving a determined look. "Aye, I sent Tius through. But only because I owed him a favor for healing me before Emet-Selch had his way with me."

Hope walks forward. "G'raha, I'm not discussing this. Let me through." He steps to the side, barring her way. Hope scoffs. "I'm not afraid of kicking your ass. Send me back right now!"

"Not without good reason!" He intercepts.

Hope grabs onto his robe. "The Scions are in danger!!" She snaps, jeering him closer. He gasps slightly, jaw dropping, his ear flinching in alert. "Someone is after their bodies on the Source and Kaoru is dealing with it by herself and killing herself in the process!" Hope hisses. G'raha looks down towards the floor, now considering this.

"Of course..." Hope releases him. He puts a hand to his chin. "If one were to kill them on the Source, their souls would cease to be here... They would perish before they return to Eorzea." He scowls. "Why was I not made aware?"

Hope crosses her arms. "Urianger is the only one of them who knows. He refused to tell Alisaie when she and I confronted him about it. Kaoru got a letter from Master Matoya, Krile, and Tataru about it from a tipster of the Empire the night she decided to leave the First." Hope scoffs. "She's been facing it by herself this entire time..."

G'raha puts a hand of reasoning out. "Urianger must not want the others to know lest he wish for them to panic or become distracted from their duties..." Hope nods. "But is that why Kaoru refused to tell anyone as well, I wonder?" G'raha asks. "Do you know how many attempts theirs been on their lives so far?"

Hope nods. "Urianger said twice now. With more suspected to happen." Hope answers. "Feo Ul has been Kaoru and Urianger's messenger between the Source and the First." G'raha looks away, deep in thought. Hope sighs. "Let me go through. Please..."

G'raha sighs, before nodding. "But mayhap you should let Master Alphinaud know first that you'll be leaving..." Hope looks at him. He puts his hands up surrenderingly. "Tis no trick or distraction, just genuine concern for your love." Hope nods.

"Okay." She says. "I'll go get ready to travel to Eulmore..." She crosses her arms. "Answer me this..."

G'raha's ears perk up in curiosity. "Hm?"

Hope nods at him. "Did you ever tell her? About what you told me?" G'raha looks away. Hope sighs. "You know... She needs to know." G'raha doesn't say anything. "She needs to know what you told me before you went back into the Tower."

He laughs half heartedly. "Nay, she does not." He gives Hope a small smile. "I only care for her happiness. Tis clear Tius gives her that and more." Hope scowls. "Who would I be to jeopardize that, if not, a traitor?"

Hope clenches her fists. "But-."

"Tis better this way." G'raha tells her. "For her sake."

Hope doesn't say anything. "And yours?"

He smiles, tilting his head and closing his eyes. "Of no consequence." Hope purses her eyebrows. She scoffs before turning and leaving.

G'raha sighs to himself. He looks up at the portal. G'raha reaches forward and touches it. With a harsh zap, he chokes in surprise and jerks his hand back. He tsks before scowling at the portal. "Dammit all..." He exhales slowly, clenching his teeth.

Alphinaud gives some documents to the Mystel to his left. "Master Kan-Loo, can you please deliver these reports to Master Chai-Nuzz? He'll be expecting them." Hope walks forward. "Ah, Hope, my love." He says noticing her as the blond male Mystel walks away. "I thought you'd be out hunting or training. To what do I owe you your visit?" Hope hesitates. Alphinaud notices. A Hume walks up with another stack of papers. But Alphinaud stops him in his tracks, raising a hand. Hope purses her eyebrows. "Hope, you're concerning me."

Hope nods sadly. "Can we talk?"

Moments later, Alphinaud puts a hand to his chin. "Are you for certain she's actually endangering herself over on the Source?"

Hope nods. "Yeah." She says, crossing her arms.

Alphinaud looks down at the floor. "And you've also elected not telling me as well?"

Hope scowls. "Not just you, okay? Y'Shtola, Thancred, Alisaie, Ryne, they all can't know..." Hope shakes her head. "Trust me. I'd tell you if I could. But I agree with Kaoru on not telling." Alphinaud closes his eyes, a slight scowl on his brows. "Please... understand..."

Alphinaud opens his eyes. "Alright..." Hope's jaw drops a bit. He smiles at her. "If you feel so strongly about this, then who am I to question your decision?"

Hope gives him a half hearted smile and a shrug. "The only who CAN..." She tells him. She purses her eyebrows, frowning again. "Alphinaud I-."

Alphinaud puts a hand up, shaking his head and stopping her. "Don't." He's still smiling. "Go help her. And hurry back." He says. Hope smiles. "Just make sure you give Kaoru a piece of your mind on behalf of Alisaie and yours truly." He says, balling a fist and slapping it into his other hand.

Hope sighs before stepping forward and hugging Alphinaud tightly, wrapping her arms around his lower waist and resting her head on his right shoulder. "Thank you..."

He leans forward and locks his soft lips to her, much to her surprise. When he steps away, he sees Hope's red face and inhales sharply. He releases her, rubbing the back of his neck. "M-My apologies. I mean, tis a bit strange on timing, I concede. And I know my circumstances makes it ever stranger. But we had yet to do... that -since before the First and-."

Hope laughs, smiling. She leans over and pecks him on the lips. "Don't apologize." She says to him, a smug look on her face. She pats his shoulder, his face redder than hers was, and his jaw dropped like the love struck fool he was. "Please, take care while I'm gone." And with that, Hope turned and left. Alphinaud puts a hand to his lips, watching her leave. He smiles a soft smile, looking away and blushing. He had to admit:

He had enjoyed that...

=======

Hope Gallant played by @louderthanthedj

[st-just]

Worldbuilding

So, as previously mentioned, a world-building thing I semi-seriously work away at when bored is building a fantasy setting with a three-party Cold War. And what’s been puttering around my head recently has been...exemplars? Characters who almost perfectly embody their culture’s ideals of what they should be. So now I’m going to inflict them on all of you!

Academian Hira, Special Adviser to the Secretariat on Irregular Warfare. Called “The Sword of Reason” by her partisans among the Janissary Corps, (something she’s said to find rather embarrassing).

While she holds no committee postings or military commands, this is purely a matter of preference- Hira is easily one of the most influential women in the Commonwealth. Along with being so off-puttingly virtuous the Ideologists semi-officially use her as the standard to judge offending Janissaries against, she easily the most accomplished political technologist on the continent, being directly responsibly for at least twelve (variably bloodless) coups and revolutions in strategically relevant areas. While the Commonwealth frowns on personal propaganda as philosophically retrograde and politically unwise, her secondary role as an extraordinary auditor sent to ‘rectify’ troublesome or corrupt officials has given her something of a folk reputation as well (which her allies in Public Safety have seen little need to repress). Given her very precise Alignment and talent with basic applied metaphysics, it’s only her own personal intervention that’s kept some of the more thoroughly domesticated churches from declaring her a blessed or holy.

Personally, she’s very possibly the only person to take the teachings on dispassion and non-attachment entirely seriously, leaving her untroubled by the fact that friendships are hard to maintain when you consider it unjustifiable to get to the cofeehouse on time instead of making sure every beggar  you pass is properly taken care of. The closest thing she has to friends are political allies and coworkers, who do find that behind the agreeably kind persona there are a lot of truly bleak jokes.

The Exalted Vyas Asraya, Beloved of Glory, Thrice-Hailed, Maestro of Falling Stars, Tyrant of the Ashen Steppe, Artisan of Glass and Wind, Of Silver Tongue and Golden Hand, Great Man of the Republic (and a great many things besides), generally refereed to in dramatized accounts and propaganda as ‘The People’s Prince,’ in deference to his claimed descent from royal spirits or djinn.

Vyas is not the most important man in the Republic-he’s not even the most important once you discount all the old monsters for whom ‘man’ isn’t really a relevant signifier any longer. But he’s close. While Beloved of Glory, he has been reluctant to use her gifts except in the most auspicious circumstances. Instead, he dragged himself from the teeming masses of Quepta through his own arts-and has since been entrusted to raise and lead armies on a score of campaigns, to mint the currency of three full Cities, and a great deal besides. His generosity is legendary, hosting public banquets and festivals wherever he happens to be seemingly every week, employing the finest artists around to glorify his current project or whoever happened to catch his eye. All made possible through a merchant empire that touches three continents and a standing commission to extract tribute from the goblin hives of the steppe for the Republic.

He is a passionate, tempestuous man, his very public affairs and quarrels dramatized almost as soon as they fall off the newsreels (often with his own financial backing). His own genius besides-and the demon does not love him for nothing, and his names aren’t empty boasts-he has a great eye for talent, serving as investor and patron to whatever grand projects consume his lovers and companions (whether the investment or the relationship comes first varies).

Lady Binder Katerine sol Dalme sol Telrin ir Paimon, Heiress to the Viscountcy of Light and Darkness, Countess-Regnant of Tarlow, Grand Celebrant of the Order of the Leaden Mirror, and Royal Councillor by Blood. Called many things in various whispered conversations, but currently styled in court as the Lady of Einwil, a royal rebuke for her role in ‘saving’ the city.

The priest’s first lesson to any schoolchild is simple-”You Are Your Chains.” Normally this is meant metaphorically-about connections and obligations and the folly of fighting your proper place and the divine hierarchy that governs us all. But Katerine is the granddaughter of the Imperial Chamberlain, only three quarters human and born with the privilege of overseeing rather more literal bonds. The Queen-Empress is the Warden of Hell, sure enough, but she has a prudent lack of interest in dealing directly with all its devils. Her Chamberlain, in turn, needed trusted agents for missions far from the capitals-and in true Illyrin fashion, started a dynasty.

Katerine is easily and obviously Duke Paimon’s favoured scion, to the point where he personally intervened to ensure she would inherit her mother’s county over any number of step-sisters (her gratitude cooled somewhat after realizing just how many knightly families she was expected to take a husband from). She, in turn, is the ideal study of filial duty, loyally serving the interests of family, fief, and liege (in precisely that order). A once-in-a-generation ritualist, her aid restoring failed crops and constructing public works is viciously fought over by the highest nobility (even if it’s usually lesser vassals who sign a contract in blood and tears). She prefers providing her yearly service the crown in similar ways-for all that she can field a legion of spirits, she prefers noble estates to campaign tents.

By nature an academic, Katerine prefers to spend her time in one of the three appropriately stocked libraries in the world, conversing with one of the dozen or so people with whom she can have a productive conversation. She devotes the expected amount of time scheming to expand her family’s lands (with predictably greater success than most) and responds to challenges to her house or honour with enough thoroughness that they don’t come up often, but otherwise leaves administration to her favourite husband.

[justaramblingromantic]

ᴅᴀɴᴄᴇs ʙʏ ᴍᴏᴏɴʟɪɢʜᴛ

Characters/Pairing: Kobayashi Rindou and Tsukasa Eishi/EiRin

Type: Ningyo!inspired fantasy AU, Freestyle

Word Count: 3334

A/N #01: So there’s this thing called MerMay going on and I wanted in on the fun too. Unfortunately, I can’t draw to save my life so I wrote some nonsense instead. 

A/N #02: GDI, I just wanted cute, mindless Mer!EiRin is that so hard to ask for, brain? Ignore glaring plot (there’s no plot)!

He was in the middle of an omiai when he first saw her.

She was not his match – it would have been so much easier to accept the immediate, powerful flare of attraction the moment he laid eyes on her if that was so. That strong, intrinsic pull he had felt deep within his gut, instinct willing him to go nearer, to seek her favor, to entice.

Unfortunately, that was not the case. She was not for him to court.

So he held himself back, lingered where he was. And stared.

The actual partner whom he had been introduced to was stunningly beautiful as well, and he did her disservice by failing to pay her the appropriate amount of attention and interest that she deserved. They were of the same kind, a special breed of ogon nishikigoi, carefully paired to each other by their families in order to preserve the purity of their pedigrees.

Nakiri Erina, with her fine, gilded scales and shimmering flawlessness, was the precisely selected complement to his own pale, glowing fins and platinum white perfection. Silver and gold. They were expected to court, then marry and breed, thus continuing to strengthen the bloodlines of their families. It was their duty. Eishi had never really cared either way – Erina was indeed lovely and graceful if not somewhat fussy and aloof, but most of the females in their circle were like that. He had been told repeatedly by various sources that she was a great catch, but his thoughts on the matter remained largely ambivalent.

A great catch? That was likely so. But he never actually had to catch her in the first place, and perhaps that was why he failed to properly appreciate the qualities of his potential wife-to-be the way any other being lucky enough to be in his position would have. Him and her, they had been pushed onto each other whether they actually wanted it or not, and that was that. The white-haired male would have felt guilty for this sense of indifferent apathy…if not for the fact that she also felt the same way. They were courteous and cordial enough to each other, well aware of what was expected of them…but there was no…spark.

Even with all her glittering radiance, Erina seemed to pale in comparison to the crimson fire of the redhead who had just caught his eyes. Eishi had no idea who she was, but she made a bold, dramatic splash of color against the backdrop of muted, glimmering elegance that he was used to, so very electrifyingly vivid…and incredibly appealing. It was impossible not to stare at her in wonder, gripped wholly by an urgent sense of something that he did not quite understand himself. He could not, should not let her leave his sight. He did not know why he felt thusly, but it was imperative that he stayed close.

Beside him, Erina slanted a curious stare at the merman who still appeared visibly stunned. His usually detached, distant lavender gaze now so sharp and alert, firmly locked onto the stranger who had just crossed their paths. The other ningyo appeared to be around their age, but neither had met her before, in this part of the massive freshwater lake biome they all called home. It was obvious that he was interested – he certainly made no effort to hide it.

“Tsukasa-san, if you gape some more, your expression is going to freeze on your face,” Erina’s tone was placidly dry, yet still unfailingly prim and proper.

He tore his eyes reluctantly from the other female and returned his attention to his elegantly dressed companion. He actually looked briefly disconcerted, confused, a far cry from his normal icy, reserved composure.

“I…” he paused, even as his gaze automatically flitted back to the exotically exquisite mermaid with the feathered, blood red fins and flowing tail. The dark red of her gleaming scales were a perfect match in color to her long, tousled mane, unadorned and flowing freely behind her, framing and accentuating her lovely human features; a heart shaped face, golden, slit pupiled eyes, shining ruby lips…

He could not seem to stop looking at her, and promptly lost his train of thought once again.

Erina tilted her head bemusedly – she had never seen the Tsukasa heir so flustered before. She wondered if that was a good thing. There was a faint feeling of something like envy that welled in her. She wondered if there would ever exist someone who would stare at her the way her omiai partner was currently staring after another female, the way he just could not seem to help himself.

She should be offended, she knew, but oddly enough, she was not.

He had never belonged to her, after all.

“…She’s swimming away,” the blonde pointed out softly at last, because amazingly enough, her companion was so distracted that he had completely forgotten her presence, once more. “You should at least find out her name, or you may never see her again.”

Eishi was embarrassed by the transparency of his desire, a want so fiercely unyielding and immediately insistent, he could not disregard it. He was also stuck between a rock and a hard place, and he looked from one mermaid to the other. Duty and obligation tethered him to one, but something inexplicable that felt very much like destiny and fate was calling him to the other. His instincts clamored loudly and unrelentingly, refused to be ignored or muted by things like common sense or rationality or reason for the stark truth that only it could comprehend; he knew her once upon a time, this girl with the tumbling scarlet hair and the entrancing ochre eyes-

He desperately needed to know her again. 

“…I’m sorry, Nakiri,” the white-haired male apologized to his fair companion, quietly contrite. His lavender eyes flickered with gratitude – it was probably the most expressive he had ever been around her, in all their years of acquaintanceship. “And thank you.”

The golden-haired mermaid waved away those words with a languid carelessness she did not entirely feel. “Save your thanks. You may explain to our parents why our miai fell through.”

Eishi grimaced inwardly at the thought of how that conversation would go, but he was not as upset as he probably should be. Still, he hesitated, remembering his manners.

“Will you be alright, on your own?”

“Who do you think I am?” she enquired loftily, glancing at a fixed point over his shoulder. “Hisako has been trailing us all along, so I’m the least of your worries. I absolve you from your self-perceived sense of responsibility towards my wellbeing.”

That was all the Tsukasa scion needed to know. Another quick, appreciative look at the blonde, and the beautiful merman was gone in a silver flash, his sleekly muscular, powerful tail slicing effortlessly through the water currents, propelling him unerringly towards the future that she had foreseen. The nishikigoi mermaid watched the other disappear in pursuit of his happiness, but there she stayed, waiting until another familiar presence quietly swam up, faithfully keeping her company.

“…Erina-sama,” her loyal retainer sighed with faint consternation and dismay. “You need to stop giving your suitors away.”

The koi ningyo glance askance at her pink-haired parrotfish counterpart. “…But why should I keep them when their hearts have found homes with others?” she asked rhetorically.

There was a specific reason why she had requested her meeting with Tsukasa-san to occur here and now; at this particular place, at this very moment. Her visions were never wrong, and this time was no different.

Hisako was exasperated, all the same.

“Nevertheless, please don’t keep doing this. It’s dangerous…”

“But Tsukasa-san will be very happy with his mate.” Or at least they would be blissful together, once he managed to lure her into courtship. The Nakiri princess was wistful, staring unseeingly into the distance. With her youthful face momentarily bare of the many masks she often put on to fool the rest of the world, she looked so painfully alone and vulnerable at that moment. “Hisako…do you think I’ll find happiness too…one day?”

The parrotfish mermaid quietly ached for her beautiful, isolated mistress. 

“Of course, Erina-sama,” she whispered fiercely. “You deserve all the happiness in the world.”

The gold gilded koi smiled faintly at her friend and companion. “I hope so.”

“Shall we head back to the castle?” Hisako suggested lightly, anything to gently distract the ningyo hime from her ennui. “Azami-sama will not be pleased if you’re outside and unchaperoned like this.”

“Father is never pleased no matter what I do,” Erina uttered ruefully. But she turned obligingly towards the other mermaid with the pink and orange sunset scales, and the two kimono-clad females slowly started to swim towards home.

That’s because he believes you failed to inherit your late mother’s clairvoyance, Erina-sama, Hisako thought silently to herself. And it was imperative that Lord Azami continued to think that way, for all of their sakes. Erina-sama’s ability should never be used for the purpose of mongering power – Senzaemon-sama had already warned as much. Only grievous tragedy awaited seers who were forced down that path.

Hisako’s expression grew quietly grim with determination. She would not let her beloved mistress meet that fate. Time was running out, but Hisako had a plan, and she was not alone to execute it. She, together with the others whose lives had been touched by the kind, lonely princess, would make sure that Erina-sama’s happiness finds her…this time for sure.

She was being followed for a while now, that much was obvious. The one who was tailing her wasn’t even trying to be subtle about it, and she wondered what his deal was. 

She was not the most patient individual in the first place, so it did not take her long to reach the end of her tether. Screeching to a stop and whirling around sharply in a flare of flowing crimson fins, she quickly swam straight over to him. Her arms were akimbo, and he was so surprised by her charging approach he stilled, looking briefly like one of those startled woodland herbivores that lived in the forests around the great lake.

“Oi, you. Why are you…following…me…?” she asked, without preamble at first…and then, she just stared. She hadn’t had a good look at him earlier, but now that he was right before her... Oh.

She was very certain that they had never met before – she would have remembered a face like his otherwise. He reminded her of the moon, pale, silvery and enigmatic, and his scales glowed a brilliant white in the semi darkness of the deeper waters that they were currently in. He possessed immaculately striking features, and she had never seen any merperson with his coloring before.

And the intensity of his lavender gaze as he stared back at her…

Her indignation subsided, slowly taken over by a confusion of her senses. There was a hard jolt of recognition – or maybe it was connection – that she did not understand at all. It made no sense, this sense of familiarity that he gave off. She started to edge backwards, bewilderment clouding her delicate features; he was disorienting up close and she could not string together a coherent thought as she struggled to figure out who he was.

She wasn’t the only one afflicted with this strange condition.

Eishi’s mind went blank at her demanding question, and then the first three things that came to his mind in reply was ‘you’re breathtakingly beautiful, you make me feel things I’ve never felt before, and I want to make babies with you,’ all in that specific order. None of the three were embellishments at all, though before he could actually open his mouth and blurt out his feelings, his common sense came barreling into the picture, possibly saving him from making a complete idiot out of himself and scaring her away for good.

“I... What’s your name?” he asked her in return, trying to stall for some time to get his frazzled thoughts in order. “I’m Eishi. Tsukasa Eishi.”

“I’m Rindou.” She did not offer any last name. She also looked him up and down, promptly recognizing him for what he was. “You’re one of the nishikigoi.”

Not only that, but judging by the blinding, glittering white of his tail and fins, coupled with his striking noble features and the fine material of his yukata, he was obviously one of the rarer ones of that breed…which made him a member of the elite, then.

“…Yes, I am.” So that was her name. Rindou. The Gentian blossom. He quickly committed it to memory. It would not do for him to forget. “I’ve never seen you before, Rindou-san. Are you a citizen of Tootsuki? Where do you live?”

He was trying not to come across as too eager, but it was hard.

She frowned slightly. What was with this interrogation? “I’ve never seen you before either, and I get around. Anyway, what business have you with plain ‘ol me, koi?” 

He tried not to color at her unintentional double entendre. He did not entirely succeed – his alabaster complexion was not one that allowed him to hide his fluster easily. If anything, it enhanced the tinted hue of his cheeks, much to his chagrin. She looked at him like he was the strangest thing she had ever seen, her head cocked ever so slightly to the side. He could not help but admire her features all over again; the fine arch of her cheekbones, the slender bridge of her nose, those tilted, exotic eyes, her full, red mouth. She also possessed a sharp little pair of pearly fangs, and her incisors poked out over her bottom lip. He stared at her dazedly.

Gods, she was gorgeous.

“…There’s nothing plain about you at all,” he finally responded, and her brow shot up. His eyes widened imperceptibly when he realized his faux pas. He snapped out of it and hurriedly continued. “Our paths crossed earlier, back at the glade. You were…dancing across the fern meadow like you were light as air…I was mesmerized,” he offered…almost shyly.  

Was she dancing across anything? She could not remember. She had been doing her usual thing as always, and hadn’t really paid attention to her surroundings. Also…

“You were mesmerized…by me?” she echoed curiously, her gossamer thin caudal fins lazily fluttering back and forth to keep her from being displaced by the currents. What even was that supposed to mean?

“Yes.” He stopped, then slowly, carefully, declared his intention as boldly as he dared. “May I swim with you?”

Her mouth fell open. What was he saying?

“You’re nishikigoi,” she repeated again, the moment she recovered from her bewilderment.

His brow furrowed in concern. Did she dislike him for some reason? “Is that a bad thing?”

Was he being deliberately obtuse? Did an anchor fall on his head? Her frown deepened.

“I know your kind. And you’re not just any average ningyo; you’re one of those extra special snowflakes, aren’t you? You lot only breed amongst yourselves,” she concluded. Something about keeping the noble bloodlines pure or similar nonsense. She did not presume to understand the odd notions of the wealthy and powerful.

He didn’t think that her observations were meant to be complimentary.

“…You’re right,” he agreed quietly.

She pointed to herself.  “Exactly! I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not the same as you. You’re courting the wrong type of fish here.” Why were all the handsome ones kind of airheaded and spacey, she lamented to herself.

“No, I found the right fish. You’re very beautiful and I’ve been utterly captivated,” he told her with serious, utmost sincerity.

She stared at him. Huh?

“…You think I’m beautiful?”

“Yes.”

She stared some more. This was the first time she had been told this so honestly by someone…and he actually seemed to genuinely think it, too.

…Huh.

“You want to court me…because I’m beautiful?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation whatsoever.

“Nothing else?”

“…” He looked at her blankly, not sure what she was expecting him to say. Where he came from, there was nothing more prized than appearance, which often went hand in hand with power.

That was not the case where she was concerned, unfortunately, and she started to scowl, offended.

“What about my amazing sense of humor? What about my bright, sunny personality?” she demanded, swimming closer to him in fiery, passionate pique. “My virtuous kindness and consideration towards the young, the weak and the elderly? And my flawless hunting skills? My angelic singing? How quickly I can open up a can of whoop-ass? My ability to eat everything deliciously and cleanly?”

At the reminder of food, her stomach gave out a hungry little gurgle. Sheesh, he could have brought food as a courtship offering, if he was really serious. What was with this sea monkey. What on earth was she even supposed to do with ‘you’re very beautiful?’ Could she eat that? No!

He blinked owlishly. He had only ever been taught that courting was to be gentle, subtle, delicate, but she was so vibrant and lively and candid that he was completely caught off guard. She was definitely nothing like the other mermaids whom he was used to…and as such, he was at a loss when it came to actually figuring out what it was that she sought from him.

“…Then, you wish to be praised more…?”

“No…! I mean, you don’t know me, and I also don’t know you, Sparkly!”

“Sparkly?” Now he was the one who sounded faintly incredulous.

“Yah, ‘coz you’re all sparkly with your shiny scales and tail,” she gestured at his lower half, long and sleek and shimmering. He called her beautiful, but she was quite sure that he was the prettier one. “Sparkly.”

He was nonplussed by the nickname that she had just saddled him with. He would rather she call him koi, if she really had to give him a pet name.

“…Are we already at the stage of giving each other endearments?” he asked, hesitantly.

“Hahh??”

He made no sense to her, this merman who had just elegantly glided into her life and then bravely requested to court her. Did he even know who she was? Was this how things usually went with his kind? No wonder these nobles were all so wonky and illogical!

“…Benitsuki,” he decided then, distracting her from her thoughts. His eyes ran carefully, intently, over her scarlet hair, her graceful features.

“I’d call you Benitsuki...because you draw me to you just like the moon draws in the tides.”

She paused at his calm, earnest note of admiration, reluctantly caught in the snare of his glowing, intelligent gaze. An inexplicable shiver of awareness ran up her spine at this gentle, tender intimacy; what was this strange ability of his, that allowed him to touch her without physically doing so? Her cat-slit pupils slowly dilated, her face suddenly feeling too warm for comfort.

She found herself at a loss for words, and that triggered her instincts to execute the next most appropriate action.

She cocked her arm back, chambered a punch, and slugged him in the solar plexus.

His eyes widened.

His breath whooshed out of him; she acked a wallop and that one blow was enough to send him reeling back – she was impressively strong.

“Ow-” he wheezed in comical shock and incomprehension, still doubled over. She absently shook out her stinging hand. He was surprisingly solid…for a sparkly thing.

“This is how my people court.”

…Eh?

“You still have no idea what I am?” She tossed her head and lifted her chin, her bright, brilliantly crimson caudal fins languidly unfurling like a peacock’s tail, dazzling, iridescent. There was only one species of merpeople that displayed with such elaborate appearance.

Comprehension slowly dawned in his gaze-

“I’m a fighting fish, so if you still think you want me, then your fancy ass better be good enough to wrestle me into submission first.” 

Glossary: Ningyo - human fish, i.e. mermaid/merman/merperson Omiai - traditional, formally arranged matchmaking between a man and a woman to consider the possibility of marriage Koi - means ‘carp,’ also homophone that can mean ‘affection’ or ‘love’ Nishikigoi - brocaded carp, ornamental carp Ogon Nishikigoi - a special variety of nishikigoi that’s of one solid color only. E.g. gold, platinum-white. Benitsuki - Crimson Moon

Eishi: Ogon Nishikigoi (solid, platinum-white) Rindou: Japanese/Siamese Fighting Fish (solid, blood red, rosetail) Erina:  Ogon Nishikigoi (solid, gold) Hisako: Blood Parrot Cichlid (pink orange ombre)

A/N #03: Sometimes I wonder what happens when two ningyo of different species (and different courtship behaviors) come together, and I guess I ended up exploring that idea in this drabble. 

Koi fishes are traditionally bred for their appearances (still are), whereas Japanese/Siamese fighting fishes were once bred and prized for their fighting ability. Koi fishes court with the male swimming with/following close by their chosen female, whereas Japanese/Siamese fighting fishes show off their genetic prowess by aggressively fighting off the competition, and sometimes the females fight the males too. 

Side note: This AU willfully ignores the effects of sexual dimorphism in nature, so in other words - all ningyo genders are capable of displaying vibrant, colorful appearances, not just restricted to the males of the species. 

[sunlitpeony]

Question | Upcoming | Insomnia

a - z headcanon meme

Question :: How often do they feel doubt? What topics are they defensive about?

{ ❀ } “Not as often as I once did,” she replies softly, turning her ring about her finger as she speaks. Though it looks like a bout of idle fidgeting, it has a calming effect on her – it is a physical manifestation of the vows exchanged in the Lowlands, and while it is no more important than the intangible ways they promise their love to each other, she takes comfort in its perpetual presence on her hand. She draws strength from it the same as she does from him, and even when she hesitates just before continuing, she presses onward with a determined smile. “Or… maybe it is better to say I doubt myself on different things now. My place in this world has changed again, and some days are more difficult than others… but I do not have to face them alone anymore.”

Her grey eyes are as the sky before a snowstorm, and though they be forever cloudy, the clarity of purpose that shines within refuses to dim.

“And so I will never let someone speak ill of them while I stand by in silence. They are precious to me… We are family.”

;; The conclusion of 4.0 sees Ane returning to an ordinary life, something she has not felt free to do for several years now, and though she is glad to live as she wishes, she has struggled with readjusting. It can be difficult for her to put down her old burdens, having carried them for so long and lived under the weight of expectations. So many people thought so many things of her, expected them and felt entitled to them, and suddenly she can no longer fill those obligations. Some nights she worries that she has let everyone down, even though she fulfilled her duties to the best of her ability. She worries, too, that she cannot protect her loved ones the way she used to and fears that how she is now isn’t enough to keep them safe… and so she is working to slowly come to terms with her new position in the group dynamic and support them any way she can. Naturally, she’s fiercely protective of them and has no real patience for those who badmouth them. Though usually possessed of an even temperament, she will not hesitate to raise her voice against someone who speaks ill of her husband or her friends, and while she tends to use her words certain sensitive topics can goad her into getting a bit more physical in her confrontations. It’s unusual, but it’s certainly not impossible. She’s similarly defensive concerning matters of faith and prejudice, having lived through those persecutions for herself.

Upcoming :: How much do they think of the future? Do they make long-term plans?

{ ❀ } “I did not use to,” she answers, her eyes wistful and voice soft. “I felt I could not… not when it seemed everything I am still belonged to the Scions. I thought I could only live day to day, that I was not free to think so far ahead – not for myself, at least.”

 Time has always passed strangely for her, though the longer she thinks on it, the more she suspects it must be the same for everyone else. Some days move too quickly and others too slowly, and some days she can scarcely look ahead for how she busies herself looking behind. The past has ever been a heavy burden on her soul, but time marches on… and more and more, Ane finds herself wanting to go with it. Moving forward is not the same as forgetting, she reminds herself, and with a little laugh she turns her face into the sunlight.

“Now I wish to look ahead rather than looking back… I do not want to live only for today but also for tomorrow, and for all the days that will come after. I have traded old responsibilities for new, but they are my own – I chose them for myself, just as I will choose the future that lies ahead of me. Where I will go and who I will go with… what we will do when we find ourselves there… I think it the most exciting feeling.”

;; Ane was never one for looking too far ahead since she is someone who firmly believes that tomorrow isn’t guaranteed to anyone, and her time spent with the Scions of the Seventh Dawn did little to change that way of thinking. Dancing with death and danger on a daily basis really only made her believe it all the more, and it wasn’t until her journey through the Lowlands with Aymeric that she truly began considering her future – their future, really, as it had become. Having something stable and safe that she could trust in has worked to gently undo a lot of her almost fanatical independence, and though some bits have been more of an uphill battle than others, she has learned to rely on those around her in a way she wouldn’t have before… and now that she no longer has any real obligation to the Scions, she spends her time thinking of her future instead. She’s free to pursue whatever she wishes, and she has more than a few modest dreams she would love to see become a reality… especially one in particular.

Insomnia :: What’s their sleeping schedule like? Snorer? Sound sleeper?

{ ❀ } She flushes lightly, her cheeks going a soft pink as she tucks a ribbon of dark hair behind her horn. Her sleeping habits are not something she particularly thinks about at length, not when they have turned around for the better. Now she rests when she pleases, and she does not really give it a second thought... or whether or not she is especially loud when she does so.

“I... I do not think I snore, do I..?”

Aymeric receives a gently dismayed look.

;; She does, in fact, snore -- only ever quietly! Unfortunately she is not a particularly sound sleeper and can be very easy to rouse, but with her life suddenly becoming far more peaceful (even though it is sometimes still rather stressful!) it has been easier for her to relax and sleep more deeply. Sometimes she sleeps through the morning when Aymeric leaves for the House or the Congregation, sometimes she wakes just long enough to tell him goodbye before disappearing into the blankets, and sometimes she rises right along with him. She’s especially fond of having breakfast with him before either of them leaves, whether that means sitting by the window in their room together or taking a turn about the Pillars with the pastries they’ve purchased from one of the many stalls in the Crozier. Ane still makes a habit of going to bed later than some might deem appropriate, but staying up until Aymeric comes home safely is terribly important to her. Some nights she dozes off on the sofa in the sitting room while waiting for him, earning her a gentle carrying to their bedroom when he’s loathe to wake her.

[katiezstorey93]

The Messaging of Trump Hotels

Scion, the millennial manufacturer, indicates succession.CreditPHOTOGRAPH BY BILL CLARK / CQ ROLL-CALL / GETTY

Property is just a company that is dynastic. In the event of Donaldtrump, his family’s home opportunities started together with his grandpa, a German immigrant who went resorts for silver prospectors in Northwestern boomtowns, and finally purchased property in Queens. The Trump Business, as Jesse called the business when he got it around, within the early nineteen-seventies, possesses, rents, and spends in qualities, including seventeen golf programs and five resorts. Based on its Internet website, it’s “the world’s just worldwide luxurious property very-brand.”

This springtime that was past, in a resort-business meeting in Ny, the Business introduced that a fresh, more affordable hotel manufacturer, targeted at the marketplace was being developed by it. Many months later, it sent a news release, identifying the idea: “Scion, meaning ‘descendant of the significant household,’ is just a multi faceted lifestyle manufacturer created in reaction to the growth in cultural groups and also the ‘we’ economy.”

The decoy?—suggests sequence, and under great pressure to follow integrity recommendations, Trump claims he’s relinquished control of the Business to his kids that are older Jr., and Eric. However the Leader managed to get obvious he’s no purpose of getting of divesting from his companies, which integrity attorneys dispute may be the way of preventing issues, the more total action. (The A.C.L.U. and People for Obligation and Integrity in Wa are equally seeking lawful statements from the Leader fighting that, by taking cash from international authorities within the type of resort-bill funds, lender loans, and lease, he’s in breach of the Emoluments Term, a seldom invoked constitutional provision meant to avoid people of the U.S. government from being damaged by “any King, Prince, or international State.”) He nevertheless retains his possession risk within the Trump Business, including Scion, a title that displays, in the manner of way too many showcases within the reception, the Leader herself, a child of opportunity.

Objectors included boycott and #scionhotels, however for presently there are been no real structures for demonstrators to picket, and only renderings to tip at. This week, at another large real estate meeting, in Eric Danziger, downtown La, the C.E.O. Of Hotels, displayed the organization. The scions were insight, along with there was a Hotel Team show region abandoned. For Trump Accommodations particles put a pamphlet at a clear desk thrown with biscuit. Resorts that were “Trump is made for that businessman us in all. Pushed from the section of us that believes large after which retains on pressing,” it announced. “Our visitors motivates us.” Solecism tucked into full blown projection into solipsism. “There isn’t any mistaking a Resorts visitor. Our Typos are mirrored by their characteristics that’s an initial- .

The pamphlet, next to the one for Resorts, guaranteed a rest from that pomp, creative males an actively caffeinated planet of skilled ladies, and individual- un, size – style that was gilded. “Keep Linking,” it exhorted its preferred market of “Travelers & Wanderers.” The guide, organized as a Instagram consideration, highlighted happily dull, oversaturated pictures of bikes, barstools, pleasant viewers, document routes, employees hiving with pills in a farmhouse desk, a mother-of colour experiencing situation together with her boy, a guy having a turban and mustache operating a telephone. The visitors entertained a global where function is gently juggled alongside a modern and varied cultural life a paradise that’s as not even close to the eyesight that gained Trump the selection because it is in the Shakespearean fat of the title.

One-floor up, in a sizable ballroom about the Stone Degree, Danziger spoke about luxurious for millennials, who, since they’re within their -thirties, invest 200 and fifty million bucks annually on journey. Where he imagined starting resorts later on a moderator expected him. Danziger chuckled. “Well, I’d have stated globally, but progressively we’ve switched that faucet off.” (In November, Trump tweeted, “No new deals is likely to be completed within my phrase(s) in-office,” which month-he reiterated his promise, while his duty lawyer stated he’d terminated thirty pending worldwide offers. Nonetheless, a couple of days later, the Trump Business introduced ideas to increase among its golf course qualities in Scotland, incorporating a four hundred-and-fifty-space five star resort and a property improvement.) Danziger stated that the manufacturer might proceed to develop in main domestic areas although not offshore. Scion might transfer to minute- and third- cities. (Entirely, Danziger informed Bloomberg Information later, the resort team desires to double its impact, growing to all or any twenty six “major downtown areas” within the Usa.) He continued, “Part of Scion’s development wasn’t simply to get clients earlier to their pursuit of luxury and make sure they are organization- followers that are broad, but in order to roll an item out everywhere. Within our situation, honestly, both manufacturers, and every other items I produce, may have a domestic importance for that next four to ten years.”

The conference’s slogan was “Please Remain By . . .” however the President’s pro business position was stimulating towards the participants, even when his nationalism, for a business determined by unimpeded circulation that is worldwide, was disturbing. Wherever they might trigger was discovered by individuals for confidence. A C.E.O, Niki Leondakis. whose profile includes Thompson Resorts, stated, “If Saturday’s march didn’t inform you that there will be much more ladies on the highway and remaining in resort rooms, I don’t understand what will!” an other woman, a for Actual Money Stats, explained, “We think this is actually the night prior to the dawn.”

Danziger, that was wearing a crimson link and has a grey mustache, is just an expert of the, having started like a bellboy in the Fairmont in Bay Area . Within the passageway, he lingered after his demonstration, chatting with a good match, another along with man in tortoiseshell eyeglasses sporting a tie. He was requested by them which basketball he’d joined. One described the watch from his accommodation: demonstrators striking a linen-glass screen. The guys chuckled. Once they captured a peek of my laptop, the atmosphere stuffed. Danziger rushed away such as the White Bunny, abruptly overdue for a scheduled appointment.

from network 8 http://www.maharajahhotel.net/the-messaging-of-trump-hotels/

[maharajahhotel]

The Messaging of Trump Hotels

Scion, the millennial manufacturer, indicates succession.CreditPHOTOGRAPH BY BILL CLARK / CQ ROLL-CALL / GETTY

Property is just a company that is dynastic. In the event of Donaldtrump, his family’s home opportunities started together with his grandpa, a German immigrant who went resorts for silver prospectors in Northwestern boomtowns, and finally purchased property in Queens. The Trump Business, as Jesse called the business when he got it around, within the early nineteen-seventies, possesses, rents, and spends in qualities, including seventeen golf programs and five resorts. Based on its Internet website, it’s “the world’s just worldwide luxurious property very-brand.”

This springtime that was past, in a resort-business meeting in Ny, the Business introduced that a fresh, more affordable hotel manufacturer, targeted at the marketplace was being developed by it. Many months later, it sent a news release, identifying the idea: “Scion, meaning ‘descendant of the significant household,’ is just a multi faceted lifestyle manufacturer created in reaction to the growth in cultural groups and also the ‘we’ economy.”

The decoy?—suggests sequence, and under great pressure to follow integrity recommendations, Trump claims he’s relinquished control of the Business to his kids that are older Jr., and Eric. However the Leader managed to get obvious he’s no purpose of getting of divesting from his companies, which integrity attorneys dispute may be the way of preventing issues, the more total action. (The A.C.L.U. and People for Obligation and Integrity in Wa are equally seeking lawful statements from the Leader fighting that, by taking cash from international authorities within the type of resort-bill funds, lender loans, and lease, he’s in breach of the Emoluments Term, a seldom invoked constitutional provision meant to avoid people of the U.S. government from being damaged by “any King, Prince, or international State.”) He nevertheless retains his possession risk within the Trump Business, including Scion, a title that displays, in the manner of way too many showcases within the reception, the Leader herself, a child of opportunity.

Objectors included boycott and #scionhotels, however for presently there are been no real structures for demonstrators to picket, and only renderings to tip at. This week, at another large real estate meeting, in Eric Danziger, downtown La, the C.E.O. Of Hotels, displayed the organization. The scions were insight, along with there was a Hotel Team show region abandoned. For Trump Accommodations particles put a pamphlet at a clear desk thrown with biscuit. Resorts that were “Trump is made for that businessman us in all. Pushed from the section of us that believes large after which retains on pressing,” it announced. “Our visitors motivates us.” Solecism tucked into full blown projection into solipsism. “There isn’t any mistaking a Resorts visitor. Our Typos are mirrored by their characteristics that’s an initial- .

The pamphlet, next to the one for Resorts, guaranteed a rest from that pomp, creative males an actively caffeinated planet of skilled ladies, and individual- un, size – style that was gilded. “Keep Linking,” it exhorted its preferred market of “Travelers & Wanderers.” The guide, organized as a Instagram consideration, highlighted happily dull, oversaturated pictures of bikes, barstools, pleasant viewers, document routes, employees hiving with pills in a farmhouse desk, a mother-of colour experiencing situation together with her boy, a guy having a turban and mustache operating a telephone. The visitors entertained a global where function is gently juggled alongside a modern and varied cultural life a paradise that’s as not even close to the eyesight that gained Trump the selection because it is in the Shakespearean fat of the title.

One-floor up, in a sizable ballroom about the Stone Degree, Danziger spoke about luxurious for millennials, who, since they’re within their -thirties, invest 200 and fifty million bucks annually on journey. Where he imagined starting resorts later on a moderator expected him. Danziger chuckled. “Well, I’d have stated globally, but progressively we’ve switched that faucet off.” (In November, Trump tweeted, “No new deals is likely to be completed within my phrase(s) in-office,” which month-he reiterated his promise, while his duty lawyer stated he’d terminated thirty pending worldwide offers. Nonetheless, a couple of days later, the Trump Business introduced ideas to increase among its golf course qualities in Scotland, incorporating a four hundred-and-fifty-space five star resort and a property improvement.) Danziger stated that the manufacturer might proceed to develop in main domestic areas although not offshore. Scion might transfer to minute- and third- cities. (Entirely, Danziger informed Bloomberg Information later, the resort team desires to double its impact, growing to all or any twenty six “major downtown areas” within the Usa.) He continued, “Part of Scion’s development wasn’t simply to get clients earlier to their pursuit of luxury and make sure they are organization- followers that are broad, but in order to roll an item out everywhere. Within our situation, honestly, both manufacturers, and every other items I produce, may have a domestic importance for that next four to ten years.”

The conference’s slogan was “Please Remain By . . .” however the President’s pro business position was stimulating towards the participants, even when his nationalism, for a business determined by unimpeded circulation that is worldwide, was disturbing. Wherever they might trigger was discovered by individuals for confidence. A C.E.O, Niki Leondakis. whose profile includes Thompson Resorts, stated, “If Saturday’s march didn’t inform you that there will be much more ladies on the highway and remaining in resort rooms, I don’t understand what will!” an other woman, a for Actual Money Stats, explained, “We think this is actually the night prior to the dawn.”

Danziger, that was wearing a crimson link and has a grey mustache, is just an expert of the, having started like a bellboy in the Fairmont in Bay Area . Within the passageway, he lingered after his demonstration, chatting with a good match, another along with man in tortoiseshell eyeglasses sporting a tie. He was requested by them which basketball he’d joined. One described the watch from his accommodation: demonstrators striking a linen-glass screen. The guys chuckled. Once they captured a peek of my laptop, the atmosphere stuffed. Danziger rushed away such as the White Bunny, abruptly overdue for a scheduled appointment.

from maharajahhotel http://www.maharajahhotel.net/the-messaging-of-trump-hotels/