#idanwyn lluanswys

[idanwyn-et-al]

The Alpha, Omega, Et Cetera.

Got ‘em all to 90! Slower than usual, but hey, I have a bunch of characters and have not been as frenetic with it as I usually am. Thanks to the awesome randos in Ktisis Hyperboreia who were supportive!

[idanwyn-et-al]

I'm intermittently active on here, but I'm a near- daily player in game! I can be found most often on Idanwyn Lluanswys, Yselaine Ouraux, or Nepenthe Isidoros (I play all 3 about the same amount these days) all on Mateus! I really like meeting new friends and developing stories together!

Hello! If you’re an active Final Fantasy XIV blog (roleplaying, aesthetic, etc.) could you please reblog this post? It’ll serve as a reference point for people who are looking for new blogs to follow to see who is active from February 11th and onward!

[thehalcyonassembly]

From Shore to Distant Shore: Seeking Nature’s Voices

From Shore to Distant Shore: Seeking Nature’s Voices

by Idanwyn Lluanswys, Editor-in-Chief

  Though one may not know it by looking at me, dear readers, I have spent at least half of my one-and-thirty summers on the shores of Hingashi, and am fluent in the language and familiar with many of the local customs. This is largely owing to my father’s exploits; Lluantoum was a pirate-turned-merchant, and barreled his way into many a partnership with his…

[liminal-storage]

From serious talks about life to blitzball conspiracy theories and a shared “delusion” of a paissa over badly mixed drinks. 

Featuring @idanwyn

[ohitsaunicorn]

This is the perfect commission for summer :) It’s been so hot the past couple of weeks that I’m just melting in front of my computer. The fans are set to full blast and windows are open.

WIP

[idanwyn-et-al]

It was awesome to see the Blue Catte as a Red Mage! <3

Double Trouble Featuring: Idanwyn Lluanswys & Aultena Sephimiri

Look who I found in a random roulette!  Definitely an awesome tank, 10/10 would run with again!  I was ecstatic to see a face I knew from Tumblr!  

  ♥ @idanwyn

[idanwyn-et-al]

Oh Captain, Deal.

Oh, captain, let's make a deal Where we both say the things that we both really feel I feel scared and I'm starting to sink And I only sink deeper the deeper I think Oh, captain, make up your mind Before the salt burns your eyes and you run out of time 'cause you're popping the cork, you get lost in your brain And you lose touch with all the things that made you feel sane

[idanwyn-et-al]

Where the seas make themselves seen.

I changed Idanwyn’s surname due to many, many RP developments! Now to update all the carrds.

[idanwyn-et-al]

Six Character Inspirations meme!

Honestly wish I would’ve had more room for these, but am too simple to make my own templates. (And I lol at using Nepenthe for one of Oakmoss’s, since Nepenthe was Oakmoss 1.0.)

Am tagging @heroicn0nsense , @clockworkdragonffxiv , @yokasaris , @savothesewercat , @shroudandsands , @sliptohk , @aces-and-kings , @whitherwanderer , @kich-rp , @pinxli , @captainkurosolaire , @bough-waker , @lettersnorth , @houserosaire​ and YOU! If you have already done it and I missed it, lemme know...or not, I’m not the boss of you.

(Art of Nepenthe and Anne-Sophie by @benveydraws​ , art of Idanwyn by @fibbogumi​. Apparently I need to get art of GremlinBun.)

[idanwyn-et-al]

Thank you very much! This artist was awesome to work with and had amazing communication!

Mermay special commission piece for @idanwyn !

Censored for tumblr, originals can be seen on Twitter and Pillowfort!

Mermay themed commissions still getting discounts until the end of May!

[idanwyn-et-al]

Jupiter....Supreme....THUNDER!

and

Jupiter! Oak! Evolution!

(Part 1 of 2!)

[idanwyn-et-al]

(XIV||22-Finale): Iamb-ish Pentameter.

SCENE: From left to right, OAKMOSS, IDANWYN, and ANNE-SOPHIE stand amidships on the Nixie, looking at the ship’s crystalline core. All have thoughts of ESCAPE and FEAR silvered at the edges with HOPE.

ANNE-SOPHIE [to OAKMOSS.]

If I profane with my unworthiest hand    

this haunted ship, Her spirit clothed in mists,    

Would you, one passing priestess, ready stand    

to bless my rough touch with Sophia’s bliss?  

OAKMOSS (scoffing)

Good soldier, tju do wrong tjour hand too much,    

an unszeemly example for a witch.    

Tjour szaints have hands that gather tju to clutch,    

then szing their pszalms and push tju in their ditch.  

 ANNE-SOPHIE (with wounded pride)

You mean Witchdrop? Where I might meet my end?    

IDANWYN [to ANNE-SOPHIE]

Aye, lovely, sae ye best offer yer prayers.    

ANNE-SOPHIE (holding her hands to her breast in shock)

You, too, Captain? And here I thought you friend!   

Then pray I shall, lest faith turn to despair.    

(ANNE-SOPHIE exits stage left, the FURY’S LOOKING-GLASS following after her.)

OAKMOSS [to IDANWYN]

Szaints are not Godsz. They give not, only take.    

(OAKMOSS exits stage right, shedding fur, feathers, and cracked gems.)

IDANWYN (sotto voce)

Sounds lit’ ye, e’er chasin’ me Nixie’s wake.

(The lights fade until only the Nixie’s glow is left; curtains fall.)

---

((OOC Note: I got this weird ‘what if they were all in the same room’ thought, and so here we are. Apologies to Shakespeare and fans of iambic pentameter everywhere.))

[idanwyn-et-al]

(XIV||22-9): Yawn.

(Continued from here.)

Though her kata were devoid of the elemental energy that usually accompanied the motions, the exercise served its other purpose well; to put Idanwyn at ease, and allow her a few bells of sleep. For reasons unknown, she had never been one to sleep much; three to five bells saw her fully recharged.

It had been five bells this time, almost to the minute. After her morning rituals were complete, she padded up to the deck on soft-soled shoes, taking her turn on watch. Though it wasn’t the traditional place for said shift, she always preferred to take it in the crow’s nest; a holdover from her childhood as a scrawny runt of a Roegadyn, her clan’s rigging rat.

Sipping the confection she called coffee from an insulated bottle, she peered through the binoculars bolted to the decking, whistling Sif’s part of one of her and Dug’s ribald duets. Stripped of her elemental strength as she was, Idan had to focus through more mundane means; she found it relaxing, if an ever-present reminder that she was still weak.

Perhaps her easygoing state caused her to fail to notice it. It wasn’t visible, after all, even though dawn had begun to touch the edges of the horizon with its pale-blue glow, a perfect color match to the Nixie’s crystalline core. Here, where the Sea of Jade met the Sea of Ash, the world was still an unbroken desert of ink-blue saltwater, nary a landmark in sight.

The feeling started as a nervous flutter within her belly. The Captain frowned at her mug of coffee. “Mighthae let ye steep too long, mm?” she muttered, then looked through the binoculars once more, training them on each hand of the horizon’s clock, in sunward order. Nothing; just the ship, its rune-embroidered sails taut with good winds. Though she knew it was fruitless, she stood, keeping her balance with ease, attempting to seek wind or water through her geomancy. Nothing. Just that same static-filled headache that had plagued her ever since her imperfect joining with Himawari.

Yet, the dread felt closer somehow; and then, there it was. A great, yawning pit of abyssal fear, far below the Nixie’s keel. A great mouth, opening wide, impossibly wide, and from between its rotted teeth, a rusted out axe, aimed right for the hull! Idanwyn tried to move, to call out, but she couldn’t; overcome with dread, rooted in place, just like they must have been when they saw the Summerender emerge from the fog, just like...

The distant clanging of her insulated bottle against the main deck freed her from her vision. Trembling, she found that her knobbly-jointed hands were enmeshed in the rigging; her sandaled feet hooked against the railing of the crow’s nest. Her body hung thus suspended, held out over the main deck; a fall that would have grievously wounded her, if not killed her outright.

Something was trying to draw her down. Still shaking, she freed herself from the rope, easing back within the relative safety of the crow’s nest, and flopped to its boards, her back resting against the railing.

Idanwyn had to alert the crew. She would, once she could find her voice again. Once she stopped hearing the salt-filled voice of her father, long-dead, calling her by his favored pet name.

“Syntblyss...me beauty. Ach, syntblyss...”

(Continued & concluded here!)

[idanwyn-et-al]

(XIV||22-8): Tepid.

(Continued from here.) (♪)

In truth, Idanwyn was a cowardly sort.

She confessed this to her crew, and they waved it off. What sort of self-respecting crew would serve a yellow-bellied Captain? By ameliorating her admission, they sought to save their own pride and purpose.

Though she appreciated their defiance of her nature, she was tired of explaining herself. Instead, she sought to reclaim cowardice as a boon rather than a burden. Something everyone faces, and learns how to overcome.

Serving under the elders that reclaimed the Swallow’s Compass made all the sense on the star to her. They, too, were cowards; they fled when Garlemald made heresy of their faith. They, too, hid behind elemental spirits older than memory, trusting their underlings to toll the warning bells.

“Nomak samman vanan vâdâyyâ khâ!” None shall trespass the Heart of Water! Idanwyn took the Stance of Water on the Nixie’s foredeck, enjoying the solitude that early watch granted her. Here, she could invoke her kata with peace and zeal in equal measure; none to remind her that her invocations failed to reach the geomantic fields around her.

Just practice. Simply moving through the kata; feeling the flow. None will judge you.

“Nohm vâdâyyâ khattah!” All shall surrender to the flow! Idanwyn kept her balance, stepping back to the prow, ilm by ilm. Her dance spoke to something old as the star itself; invoking its well-timed blessings to move the elements to her will.

Simply practice; the tepid waters of cowardice releasing their steam to wind. Idanwyn endeavored to allow the elements to speak through her, to serve as their focus. She gave them guidance; they were the flow.

“Nomak samman vanan vâyyâbeh khâ!” None shall trespass the heart of Wind! A craven Captain who could not wield a weapon to save her life. One who feared conflict; who tried to give ease to every situation that held the slightest hint of acrimony behind its honeyed words.

“Nohm vâyyâbeh khattah!” All shall surrender to the tempest! She had words that others sought; writing worth reading. A tale that filled her ship’s sails, and carried her onward.

Idanwyn’s feet shifted back further along the bowsprit, nearing the figurehead. A carved wooden shape so worn by sea, wind, and levin that it became its own being; the Nixie, carving through whatever the sea threw Her way to find yet another shore.

“Nomak samman vanan khâvîddhi khâ!” None shall trespass the heart of Earth!

Idanwyn came to center, her feet balanced perfectly upon the bowsprit, her eyes on the crystalline core that surrounded the Nixie’s mainmast. Cowards, the pair of them; herself and Himawari. The runts of their respective clans that, when pressed, proved themselves to be so much more.

“Nohm khâvîddhi khattah!” All shall surrender to the weight!  Idanwyn bounced on the balls of her feet, feeling the seasoned wood below bend to accommodate her. She could use it as a springboard and dive into the sea below, never to be seen again. The urge nearly consumed her; seemed to speak to her from the stars strewn across the night’s velvet darkness.

She stood there, poised at the end of her kata, the final song singing to her, to leave it all behind. Half a bell passed, and the stars saw Idanwyn step back to the foredeck, depleted aether grounded within herself.

A coward she was; but she has overcome. She surrenders to the heaviness beyond the stars, and lets it pass through her; she is a conduit for the elements themselves. Idanwyn trusts that they will empower her once more, given time.

(Continued here!)

[idanwyn-et-al]

Umi no Heiwa

Born and raised at sea, Idanwyn longed for a stationary home of her own. Some years ago, she decided to make said home in Shirogane, since she is just as comfortable in Hingashi as she is anywhere else on the star. Though her duties as Captain of the Free Trader Nixie keep her from visiting home too often, she always enjoys whatever time she can carve out for herself there, either alone or entertaining a few guests.

Her home includes a geomantic shrine; a well-stocked kitchen and two dining areas to enjoy her culinary creations; a relaxing bathroom; her simple, cozy bed; a dressing area and reading nook; and a lofted den, complete with roses, wine, and stories to read. Like many sailors, she is quite fond of greenery, and the plants throughout her flat are lovingly-tended. There are rumors that a juvenile paissa wearing a chef’s hat cares for the place when she is off on a voyage; Idanwyn can neither confirm nor deny the veracity of said rumors.

((Umi no Heiwa is located on Mateus in Shirogane, Kobai Goten, Wing 1, Room 13. Feel free to stop by! Additionally, I know I’ve posted her apartment before, but I made enough renovations over the past few months to warrant a new post, I think :D.))

[idanwyn-et-al]

(XIV||22-6): Onerous.

(Continued from here.)

Captain Lluan’s-kin set down her annotated manifest, finally confident that preparations were complete. She filled her powerful lungs with air, readying herself to call all hands to their stations. As the command sat behind her teeth, she caught sight of Fasheran trotting onto the bridge. “Kapitan,” the Viera said, her typically-unflappable expression harried at its edges. “There iz word from Mealvaan’s Gate.”

Idanwyn exhaled; not a command, after all, but a great gust of defeat. “Please tell me they’re jus’ sendin’ weall-wishes, lass?” she pleaded with the chirurgeon.

Fasheran shook her head, and though Idanwyn was expecting the negative reply, she continued to deflate further. “Wha’ is it, then? I’ve gone o’er all th’ cargo, ten times at least. Had others check me work. Th’ tide is turnin’ in twain bells’ time, an’ we cannae miss th’ outgoin’ waves. Did they send a messenger?” Already Idanwyn was moving towards the stairs, preparing herself to sign off on something or the other, seething inwardly. “We’re no’ even carryin’ aught questionable, fer th’ Navigator’s sake!”

“I know this, Kapitan, I do. But...there was no messenger, only call to ze medikal bay’s pearl. It seems zat some of ze export fees on our medicinal cargo have increased.” Fasheran followed the Roegadyn down to the main deck, weathering the Captain’s string of swears with ease; she knew they were not directed at her, and she rather shared the Sea Wolf’s irritation, besides.

The pair’s long-legged strides had them at the door of Idanwyn’s quarters in short order. Leaving the door ajar, Idanwyn continued to call out orders as she changed into her formal dress. “Tell Falkgara an’ Rinh tae keep eyes on th’ tides an’ stars, both. If I’m no’ back before they deem it time tae set sail, have ‘em weigh anchor anyroad.”

Fasheran started to reply in the affirmative, then paused, picking at a loose thread on her tunic. “Kapitan...I will do zis, of course, but...you are not capable of aether travel at zis time. Are you saying we should leave you behind?”

Idan emerged from her quarters, closing the door firmly behind her, finishing up a few errant buckles here and there as she walked to the gangway. “I’ll bleedin’ hire someone tae send me tae th’ ship if I must, lass. Whole guild’s lousy wi’ arcanists; might be as they even do it fer free, seein’ as they’re th’ ones causin’ me current issues. As if they couldnae send a bleedin’ invoice; as if I’ve e’er been late payin’ a single one o’ their endless dues!”

The Rava chirurgeon inclined her head once as she followed Idanwyn onto the pier. “Understood, Kapitan. I am...sorry for the distress. I will relay ze orders.”

Idanwyn paused, tucking her hair up under her tricorne cap, then took a breath; calmer, this time, neither meant to bark orders nor vent her frustrations, but to offer apologies. “Ach, Fasheran, I’m sorry, lass. I ken I said ‘twas no’ yer fault, but I’m treatin’ ye lit’ it is. Th’ error is clearly on me ain end; ye dinnae need tae bear me misplaced wrath.”

Inclining her head towards Idanwyn, Fasheran replied, “I forgive you. Think no further on it. I wish you good fortune in this battle.” The steady-hearted medic turned back to the ship, her finger already raised to the ship’s linkpearl; Idanwyn’s own linkpearl picked up the relayed commands as she set off towards the nearest chocobo porter at a jog.

By the time she arrived in Limsa Lominsa, she was pouring sweat. “Fuckin’ traditional finery,” she groused, fanning herself with her hat as she loped across the Lower Decks. Even the ever-present sea breezes did little to cool her body or her temper; the early autumn sun was still warm, and humidity from the coasts so famed for their crops crept across the chalky spires of the harbor city.

Pausing outside the doors of the Assessors’ offices, Idan took a moment to get herself in order. At length, her heartbeat steadied, and she tugged at her cravat, hoping the fact that its linens hung loose with sweat would go unnoticed by the sharp-eyed tax collectors. Setting her hat atop her head, she waited for a pack of visitors from Ul’dah to make their exit before she made her entrance.

“State your name and business,” said the Miqo’te behind the only open counter.

“P’tahjha, ye ken full weall...” Idanwyn trailed off as the woman eyed her steadily over her half-moon spectacles. “Idanwyn Lluanswys, also called Idanwyn Lluan’s-kin, Captain o’ th’ Free Trader Nixie. I’m here at yer summons.”

“One moment.” A carbuncle sitting atop the desk stared at Idanwyn, the ruby-red gem set between its unsettling eyes flashing for a moment before it trotted off, retrieving records and setting them by its mistress’s hand. “Ah, yes. Bound for Thavnair in...my, just a bell from now, yes? Let’s hope we’re able to resolve this for you. Wouldn’t want to face any sanctions now, would we?”

Idanwyn stowed her temper, but her left eye twitched. She felt fresh sweat start to prickle beneath her brow; she was going to need a tonze of water after completing this onerous task, and perhaps a second tonze of ale. “What issue is sae pressin’ tha’ it couldnae be sent via moogle, lass?”

“Well, for one thing, the cost of exporting the Yellow Ginseng your vessel brought back from its most recent venture out East has increased substantially. Congratulations on avoiding another entanglement with Kugane, by the by. For another,” the Assessor continued crisply, “our carbuncles’ latest inspections have revealed that you are carrying an unusually-large amount of Trader Vetch. Surely you are aware that these two potent, medicinal herbs, being delivered to,” she traced her left claw down the page, “the Great Work, yes, is subject to further levies? Only ships flying Maelstrom colors are duty-free, Captain Lluanswys.”

“Oh, aye? Navy’s been doin’ a lot o’ tradin’ voyages lately, has it? An’ here I t’ought we Free Traders,” she emphasized each word, “were responsible fer tha’, while th’ Navy is providin’ assistance elsewhere.”

P’tahjha set the file down and folded her arms. “Captain, I deal with furious blowhards like yourself all day, every day. Are you going to pay, or not? Last I heard, you still have no idea how to wield an axe, and your...aetherial capabilities seem rather...deficient, so I confess I am not feeling particularly threatened right now.”

Idanwyn leveled a sharp glance to the carbuncle, which squeaked in reply; it had noticed her weak personal aether. “Tattletales, all o’ ye,” she growled, then turned her attention back to the Assessor. “Fine. How much?”

As the frazzled, sweat-drenched Captain rode a chocobo back to the porter near the Mist docks, she was relieved to see that the sails were raised, but the Nixie was still in port. Her crew had heeded her orders; they really would have left without her. Still, deep down, she was relieved she hadn’t missed departure; despite what she’d claimed to Fasheran, she wasn’t entirely sure she would have been able to find someone to send her to the Nixie’s on-board aetheryte. No reason to tell them that; the news that their coffers had taken a hit would be disheartening enough, even if such last-minute inconveniences were part and parcel of running a ship like theirs.

(Continued here!)