#llymlaenscompass

[ink-long-dry]

New blog name! llymlaenscompass >> ink-long-dry

Bringing back this blog so I can archive my art and screenshots, and talk at length about story, characters, how thirsty I am for villains, etc...

Here’s a screen edit for Tohnii while I clean this place up!

[onwesterlywinds]

Noble Gold and Silk

Part of my Godhands series.

Features Madelaine Lachance, a character from @llymlaenscompass.

"It's good to see you," said Élodie. The girl had brought flowers - an array of Rhalgr's gold - and as Sigrid accepted them, she lifted them to her face to take in their scent: wild, fresh, shaped in the terrain and breezes of the Peaks.

"So kind of you," she said, and meant it. Yet for all the clutter in the house, she could think of no vase in which to place them; instead, she held them upon her lap and resolved to find a worthy carrier at the market. "And I appreciate your coming."

"You're truly leaving Ala Mhigo, then?"

Sigrid had found her resolve a week ago, and the truth of it had yet to fully sunk in. She had made few preparations for the house - her linens sat unwashed, the pantry remained full, and her parents' relics sat untouched in the loft - with the result that the place looked much as it had when her father had still been alive. Sigrid had wondered for a time if the ghosts of the past would abate if she were to live under another roof, and she had gone so far as to find lodgings in an inn to put the theory to the proof. Yet her dreams had only grown worse. Better to imagine her father's curses and bellows from the basement forge than the whisper of an Undercity lord stirring her from her dreams.

"I must, Élodie." The words pained her, but they carried with them the promise of liberation. She could not stave off what she knew she must do because it would hurt.

"Who else knows? Ashley, I assume, but-"

"You're the first I've told. I meant to send word to Marco later today."

Élodie tucked a strand of her dark hair, so very much like Sigrid's own, behind her ear with a shy smile. "...I'm honored," she said at long last. She carried herself differently in private, with a youthful sort of slouch. Sigrid had once been much the same: accustomed to stooping through Undercity passages, or else lowering herself for the shorter men in her vicinity. Hopefully Élodie, too, would grow out of such habits; Sigrid's heart clenched with the knowledge that she would not be around to see for herself.

A silence drew out between them, and Élodie did not sit. She stared around at the crates stuffed with tomes and the faded rug and everywhere except at her, and her pale eyes had begun to fill with tears.

"What is it?" Sigrid asked her gently.

"Was it not enough?" Élodie blurted out. "Was it all for nothing?! After so long, why do you have to-"

"Because, Élodie," she replied, as firmly as she could muster, "there is a world far beyond Ala Mhigo that I could not even have hoped to conceive of as a servant. My mother was a learned, well-traveled woman; I have always sought to follow her example in that regard. I've gathered excerpts from her diary - records of the places she loved best, and others she never saw." Places with names like Voor Sian Siran and the Sea of Spires. "I wish to see them as well, before I am too old and too afraid to take the chance."

"It doesn't have to do with-"

Sigrid shook her head, a gesture sufficient to cut off the remainder of Élodie's sentence. "If it has to do with anyone in the city, it's Theodoric. Though I suppose I should thank him. He was as good a reason as any to go into retirement."

Élodie offered up a smile, though the expression did not reach her reddening eyes.

"Come here." Sigrid took up the flowers from her lap as she stood, and opened her arms; Élodie threw her own around her, and her lanky frame shook from unshed sobs. "I'll have to write to someone of my adventures, won't I? Marco's whereabouts change by the bell and Ashley hardly ever responds, so it'll have to be you."

"I want to hear from you every week."

"You know I won't be able to promise that." She hesitated, still holding the young woman close. It was perhaps the warmest embrace she could recall in her recent memory, at least since her stint in the Undercity. "...I had hoped to leave the house to you."

Élodie did not break the contact, yet the whole of her body stiffened. "I know what you mean to do."

"Élo-"

"It isn't going to work. I'm embedded now - living in the Undercity full-time."

"Élodie, please."

"I'm making my living, for the first time in my life, and I love it."

Sigrid held the girl at arm's length, staring her straight in the eye for a time before she spoke again. "I, too, loved the Undercity when I was a girl. Even when I was your age. I hungered for it - for its thrills, its dangers, and the things it could show me about myself. But it steeps you in things that no woman as compassionate as you should ever have to endure." Élodie made a noise that might have been a cough, but Sigrid resolved to maintain her contact. "Whatever the Undercity offers, it comes at the cost of a life full of bitterness. It is too much for any one person to change alone, or even to try. I... I meant to step away from it all, even my mother's sigils, when I found Brynhilde. I say this knowing that I would never seek to order you onto any given path, but I hope that you will listen and heed me."

"I am listening," said Élodie. "I listen, and I will remember. But I will not accept this house."

Sigrid's heart sank.

"Leave it to Ashley," Élodie continued. "Or Marco. Or even the both of them. They'll appreciate it, and they'll put it to good use."

Leave it to Ashley. For all her love for Brynhilde, the idea of giving her late partner's son a house to replace the one her death had taken away had not occurred to her. The suggestion settled somewhere deep in her gut, along with all of her suspicions that she was now giving up the last of her father's hopes for her - and she nodded her agreement.

The captain shuffled across the Merlose's deck, uneasy despite their mooring. Madelaine Lachance could hear her steps all the way from the bow. The woman's stealth had been legendary only a few moons ago, to the extent that many wondered if she could teleport throughout the ship at will for the purpose of delivering rebukes; yet her fall had taken much and more, including her mobility, and her full recovery was yet an uncertain thing.

Madelaine breathed out a little sigh but turned to greet her superior nonetheless. "So much for staying in bed."

"I ran out of water and didn't want to trouble you." Sure enough, as the captain approached unsteadily toward Madelaine's vantage in her favorite silk dressing gown, she held a full glass between her bony brown hands. "Lovely morning."

And it was at that, for nothing on Hydaelyn could compare to a sunrise in the Diadem. The region had an atmosphere of its own, as unpredictable as any sea; the aether all above and around them offered different marvels with each waking and with every turn of the head. That morning, the day dawned in a burst of heavy pinks and violets, like the bloom of some all-encompassing flower.

It was only the two of them aboard the Merlose, at least for now. The crew had been small from the first, and comprised entirely of women - less through strict doctrine like the Sanguine Sirens, and more through a string of pleasant coincidences. The other crew members had all departed within the past fortnight, however, to make their preparations for other ventures - leaving only a hold full of plunder, the captain, and Madelaine in the unexpected position of being first mate without any inclination of how long she herself was to remain aboard.

"Where to from here?" Madelaine asked. "Ala Mhigo?"

The captain tilted her head, as if to listen to the wind, but she shook her head. "Not yet."

And for a time, that was all she said as they watched the aetherial sunrise and sipped at their respective drinks. Madelaine was content to stand in silence, a buffer to the northerly winds as the captain's silvered hair whipped across her shoulders.

"Thank you," said the captain at last. "For accommodating all of my dallying. And I hope you know you're under no obligation to follow me to Ala Mhigo."

Madelaine shrugged. "Someone has to help you bring the Merlose into port."

"Perhaps so," the captain replied dryly, as if unconvinced. "A note of sentimentality, then: of all the regrets I've carried throughout my life, perhaps the heaviest of them all is that I often did not express thanks to those I loved before the chance to do so was long past."

"That is sentimental."

"Blame it on this beautiful sunrise. Now, when was the last time you dropped a line to that ranger of yours?"

Madelaine whirled around to the captain in time to see a lock of hair obscure a very self-satisfied smirk playing across her Highlander features. "Don't you try and turn this back onto me."

"I'm quite serious."

Madelaine rolled her eyes. "I imagine now that Ala Mhigo's been freed, he'll be returning at the rearguard." Timing had never been among Sairsel Arroway's virtues. "What about you? Who's waiting for you back in the capital?"

"No one anymore." Somehow, it was the definitiveness with which the captain spoke that struck Madelaine, more so than the bitter reality she conveyed. "Which means that while I may consider paying a visit to your good friend the Grand Steward, I'm in no hurry to return."

If the stories were true, Ashelia Riot had led her force against the Garlean viceroy himself. Perhaps that tenacity would be enough for her to handle whatever business the captain had with her.

"I'll be here until you're ready," Madelaine promised, and found herself meaning it. "But we'll be going nowhere until you park your arse back into bed."

Again the captain scoffed, though she began her slow retreat back to her cabin. "Oh, very well. Boss me around all you'd like, while it's just the two of us; I imagine you've earned it."

Madelaine fired up the Merlose's propellers and charted their course through the resplendent color before them, and only much later did it occur to her that the captain had expressed her love in no uncertain terms.

[ronsenboobi]

look, i’m not saying morgana plays favourites, but bear is clearly her good son,

[uldahnwitch]

llymlaenscompass replied to your post:@llymlaenscompass No lie, I might start tagging...

OF COURSE ITS OK TO REBLOG

OK! I DON’T KNOW WHY BUT I THOUGHT IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN WEIRD ha ha ^__^’

[yuri-cocaine]

llymlaenscompass replied to your post:i actually really dislike heatwave weather for...

Even for not using photoshop all your screens look really pretty, crisp, and bright. I DIG EM BRAH

thanks for the compliment cap'n!! i'll keep at it then until i figure out how to pirate a photoshop for meself

[traversingtherealm]

♥ also i am sending one on behalf of sammish for thierre/maddy bc i'm shipping garbage thank u

SCREAMS OK……

“Ah… Madelaine. You know, when I first started to get to know her, I always believed she was quite beautiful. But that was when she was in her disguise, and now that I know what she truly looks like, I am blown away. Her vibrant red hair is… There’s such a fire she possesses and it’s so clear with the colour of her hair. Her eyes… Turquoise like the gem itself.” He felt a blush coming to his face, perhaps his fondness for Madelaine was a bit too obvious. “And I especially want to note the tattoo that she has over her eyes. It’s beautiful, and it is a shame she had to keep it covered for so long. Its statement is important.”

[benzedrine-bear]

Urianger and Tataru for Bristol and F'real :'D

Added some short answers for Sedha, too.

“What does mycharacter find cute?”

Bristol

He pauses, thencontinues putting the heavy tome he was holding back on its shelf.  The motion is noticeably more stiff than ithad been.  Does red skin make blushharder to see?  The roegadyn scruncheshis face in consideration and clears his throat, buying time.

“Uh…excitement,I guess.  When someone is passionateabout something, and they get worked up talking about it.  It could be about anything, really.  Their work, something they ate, a game theyplayed at the Saucer…  Anything likethat.  It’s good to see someone soexcited about anything.”

F’real

“These questionsare really all over the place, aren’t they?” He smirks, thinking over the question through a lengthy sip from hisgoblet.  “There’s a lot, isn’tthere?  I think I’d have to say mooglesare cute, but that’s a given.  In termsof people… It’s hard not to stray into things I find ‘attractive’ as opposed tojust ‘cute.’  I think someone who likesto be playful with their dress is cute.” He nods.  “You know, someone whomixes it up now and then.  Changes theirhair in an interesting way, or tries a really different kind of outfit youwouldn’t expect.  You can be surprisedwhat ends up working really well!”

Sedha

“Cute?  I’d like to see a baby behemoth one day.  I bet they’re adorable!  Coeurls, and goobbues, and qiqirns, andgoblins are all cute, too.”

“Huh?  People?” A shrug.  “I don’t know aboutthat.”

“Has my character lost a loved one?”

Bristol

“I’ve been lucky.  I haven’t lost anyone that I can remember –not yet, anyway.  Everyone I held dear tome was with me at Carteneau, and they’re still here.  Somehow.”

F’real

“My parentspassed away a few years ago.  They werefairly old…both got sick in the same year. It was peaceful.  I didn’t reallyknow any extended family.”

Sedha

“I don’t think I’vehad much to lose so far.  I do now, and Idon’t think I would let that happen.”

[broccolifabre]

Louisoix, and Raubahn!

Louisoix: What is the greatest sacrifice my character has made?

     Bricole Fabre raised an eyebrow at the question. Shrugging, he grinned “I didn’t eat for an entire week so I could afford a new bit of tech, if that counts.” He took a long drink from his mug before sighing. “Why do you people insist upon following me about, asking such invasive questions? Can’t you see I’m sitting alone in a bar?” He made a sweeping gesture as he spoke, as if his interrogator may not have realized where they were. “No man sits alone in a bar when he’s full of cheer, does he? Were I seeking company,” He raised a finger, pausing for a moment. “Which, mind you, I’m not. But if I were, it certainly wouldn’t be the sort that asked me to dig deep for all sorts of emotional garbage!” With a loud harrumph and a slap to the table, Fabre stood.

     “If you’re asking for a story of grand sacrifice for the greater good, ask somewhere else.” His expression was suddenly grim, his eyes cast toward the floor. “I can not claim any sacrifice.” A solemn shake of the head and a deep breath allowed him to think for a moment. “No, the sacrifice was not mine. I crafted weapons for a good while. Weapons that were sold in order to fund my research.” He was clearly distraught, running his fingers through his hair near constantly. “The customers paid up all the same, regardless of quality… To meet the high demand, I was forced to craft weapons that didn’t live up to my standards. Or any standards, for that matter. They were trash.”

     Fabre moved to the exit, no longer feeling social. “Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” He spoke softly, no audience in mind. Musings of a depressed man. “How many of those weapons were used to kill innocents? Worse yet, how many were purchased by innocents for self defense, and malfunctioned, leading to their death?” His choked on his last words, hanging his head in shame. “I may as well have pulled the trigger myself, you know?” He dabbed at his eyes with his sleeve and breathed deeply in an attempt to calm himself. “As for your question… I’ve never sacrificed a thing. I made those poor men, women, and children give their lives for my work. So I’ll keep crafting. If only to some day make something that saves more lives than I’ve taken. It still won’t be enough, I know. But my judgement will take place after I’ve passed. Until then, I can only strive to make their unwilling sacrifice worth the price.” Hunching his shoulders against the cold, he stepped out into the Ishgardian night and was gone.

Raubahn: What scars does my character have?

     “I bet you’re hoping for a tale of battle, huh?” He joked with a smile. “Saving the fair maiden, slaying the demon that enthralled her? Maybe I got these scars from Ifrit himself?” With each suggestion he struck a different dramatic pose. From that of a stalwart knight, shield raised, to a fierce fighter crouching low, and finally a mock gesture of fear, trembling with arms held out before him. 

      “The truth may leave you wanting, I’m afraid.” He took the last bite of a sandwich he had been eating. “Buh tuh weh,” His words came out muffled by a mouth full of food. Signaling to wait a moment, he chewed a few more times then swallowed. Smiling, he forged on “By the way, how do you keep getting in here? You just sort of… show up and ask me these wild questions. I’d like to call you a friend, but I feel that requires both of us know something about the other. As it stands, you know much of me and I know nothing of you.” He paused for a moment, hoping for a response. A name? A small bit of history? Receiving nothing, he sighed and shrugged. “Right, strong silent type. I guess you give me something to think about, at the very least.”

      Fabre cleared his throat, brushing his hands on his pants as he did so. “Your question. Most of these scars” He pointed to the scars on his face and arms. “Are caused by my own stupidity.” His grin indicated he was quite proud of his ability to be just dumb enough to get hurt, but not dumb enough to die. “This one here,” He pointed to a nasty burn along his forearm. “Is from a smithing incident. So I’m carrying this length of red hot steel from the forge to the anvil, right?” He stretched his arms out and began to walk across the room, mimicking his story. “But I didn’t have the tongs quite right on the thing. So it began to slip.” His face took on a shocked expression as he fumbled his arms about. “Me being the smart guy I am, figured I ought to catch it. However, I didn’t want to burn my hand! You know, the hand with a protective mitt on it designed for occasions just like this one. Couldn’t burn that. So what I did,” He leaned down, stretching one arm out much further than the other. “Was try to catch the steel with my forearm. Less damage done that way, yeah?” He shook his head, chuckling to himself. “At this point, I really wish I could make some whimsical statement about ‘oh, to be young’ or some such. But to be honest, I’d probably still do the same thing were I placed in the same situation this afternoon. I’m a brilliant man, understand” He tapped the side of his head twice to accentuate his point. “Just not very smart.” 

     “Anyway,” He spoke fondly, still cheered by his own tale. “As you can see, I’m quite busy.” He gestured to the remainder of his lunch that still sat on the table. “The rest of the scars will have to wait for another day. Wouldn’t want to get them all at once, would we?” He turned and opened the door, indicating it was time for his new ‘friend’ to leave. “Do come back, though. I’ve come to enjoy our… Or, well, my ramblings.” 

[greenmagic-oilspill]

Tataru, Raubahn, and Baderon, to Edge, Eggplant, and Granny :'D

Tataru: What does my character find cute?

Raubahn: What scars does my character have?

Baderon: Does my character have any hidden talents?

Edge:

Tataru: Coeurl kittens! He raised his coeurl mount, Monty, from a kitten.

Raubahn: He has one on his left buttcheek, which he got in a bar brawl. He’ll proudly show it off to anyone who asks.

Baderon: Nothing in particular.

Gogonegi:

Tataru: Dodos and lambs. Growing up around La Noscea, he’s always been around them.

Raubahn: None.

Baderon: He has no magical talent whatsoever, and pretty much fails at arcanima, but the one thing he was good at was actually putting together the mathematical formulae in order to manifest Carbuncle. Controlling it once it was summoned was a completely different matter. 

Granny:

Tataru: Babies. All kinds of babies. Including her Riskbreaker babies.

Raubahn: She has a few that she has built up over the years, though they’re light scars that are mostly faded on her arms and legs. She has a story for every one.

Baderon: Language! Traveling as much as she has, she has been able to pick different languages up pretty easily, though she isn’t quite fluent. She knows enough to get around.

[shroudkeeper]

Chiastolite !

"By surrounding myself with the beauty of the woodland, to remind myself that I am not truly alone. The flowers perfume the air, the grass sways and tickles my ankles, the boughs bend and groan against the mercy of the winds. I let go of the ill feeling and bask in the moment as the world around me breathes; the feeling of loneliness is carried into the breeze, or washed away by the downpour o’er the Shroud.”

llymlaenscompass

[onwesterlywinds]

What if .... say like in a certain final fantasy game... ashe's husband got horribly killed in a big battle the night of their wedding :3

IN THAT CASE... She definitely would be out for vengeance for whoever killed him, whether it was the Garleans or the Syndicate or some other group. And while she might or might not devote Riskbreaker resources to tracking his killers and trying to put an end to them, she would have a very, very hard time bringing herself to do battle for a while. (IC, her main weapon is Rampager, the axe he gave her for Starlight, and fighting as a monk would be out of the question.)

While I don’t think she’d throw herself headlong into a quest for justice like Ashelia Dalmasca, I think she would be very goal-oriented about giving him rest and honoring his memory. And as devastated as she would be to lose him in that way, she’d ultimately be in a better place emotionally than if he were to straight-up leave her.

[ronsenboobi]

llymlaenscompass replied to your post:gore talk related to the rp that was tychon’s...

OH DEAR…. yeah lmao RIP myself i do think I will be avoiding those GOT episodes when they come up

yeah it’s just

pretty awful and gross

(for the record, the ones you wanna avoid are the end of 4x08 and relatively at the beginning of 5x10)

[ivalith]

llymlaenscompass replied to your post “Crafting more of Ulfa’s backstory and getting legit excited at the...”

YES I LOVE THIS A LOT. ULFA IS A QUEEN

<3

[traversingtherealm]

I shouldn’t have to wear my disguise anymore.

My part of an art trade with llymlaenscompass. I LOVE MADELAINE!!!!!!!!!!!!

[issom-har]

llymlaenscompass said: I just want to say that I really super respect your motivation and your decision to play Augustiniel and I think you’re super great for doing this :’D Augustiniel is such an interesting character and I’m so happy you both exist thank you

Ahhhhh thank you very much, this makes me really happy to hear!! ;__;

I don’t know if I’ll always play him as a therapist, but even if he moves away from it in an official capacity at some point I think empathy is one of his defining character traits and he’ll always remain a person who reaches out. That’s become a much bigger part of who he is over time, and he’s getting acclimated to the idea. :D

[broccolifabre]

A lot going on here. I was totally stuck in the wall, you can see my little black sleeve sticking out. No amount of jumping or running could free me. Maddy and F’real, on the other hand, seem to have some insane action shot going on in the background. Is she dodging, or is she being punched into another dimension?