#magitek armor

[figurecollection]

Terra Branford & Magitek Armor 1/6 Scale by Prime 1 Studio, from Final Fantasy VI

[droshawoluv]

NEW #FFXV Vid! Easter Eggs and References >>HERE<<

I need to replay XV a ton before Rebirth is out.

[meranie]

FF6 Artober Day 14: Lightning/電撃

The Whelk, Ymir-- its shell absorbs the lightning beam, causing Biggs and Wedge to panic.

I'd feel bad for them, but... ::shrug::

[superthatguy62]

The Vehicles featured in the Final Fantasy Extra Collection: A PS1 Bonus Disc that came with the Fina Fantasy Complete Works book. Among other features, it featured a 3D gallery of one vehicle per Final Fantasy game. The vehicles are as follows:

The Canoe from Final Fantasy I.

The Snowship from Final Fantasy II

The Invincible from Final Fantasy III

The Enterprise from Final Fantasy IV

Faris' Ship + Syldra from Final Fantasy V

and a Magitek Armor (in-game) from Final Fantasy VI

[umbrasdoodles]

Things are escalating in Final Fantasy XIV. For example, Vaespar has pulled grand theft on the Garleans. They didn't need that suit of magitek armor anyway. 

[tiphares]

i luv my magitek armor sm 🤯🥹🤩😊💖 it is pure joy!!!

[reubenyeoart]

Commission - Garlean Marshal

An illustration commission for a client, of their Viera getting some Magitek armours to ruin some poor people's day!

[anirlon]

Some old armor concepts for one of our central characters, the knight errant known as Avro.

[sunkeeperxiv]

FFXIV Write Day 9: Fair

Post-EW timeline (no spoilers really, though), ~700 words

Rashe'a plays a trick on the kids in his family and winds up on the wrong side of their parents for it.

Rashe’a had found a foolproof way to enjoy a quiet morning.

He wasn’t unhappy, per se, to be helping his mother and sister build their new homestead, right next to his aunt Eline’s. After the chaos and the stress of the Final Days, a little hearthside boredom was perfectly welcome, and he’d stay and help as long as they needed. Daca’li was still recovering, after all, and wasn’t as much help as Rashe’a knew he wanted to be.

No, Rashe’a had simply never really figured out how to deal with kits. The older ones could be a help, sure, but the youngest seemed to find the worst times to be underfoot. He loved them, really, but they had absolutely no sense of timing. Well, it had taken a while, but he’d come up with the perfect distraction for them, and, to the obvious surprise of his mother, sister, aunt and uncle, had offered to keep them busy that night.

He’d challenged them to a game of hide and seek, named Linna’to the seeker, and had promptly hidden himself on the bed of the Whilom River, confident they’d be looking for him right up till dawn broke. He hadn’t accompanied his uncle to Doma with the intent of benefiting from it personally, but he had to admit the Kojin’s blessing came in handy now and again.

He was both right and wrong, as it turned out - it took only two hours for him to be found, but it wasn’t one of the kits that found him. Instead, as he was beginning to doze off, Daca’li’s head broke the surface of the water above him. He was trying to look disapproving, although Rashe’a recognized the evidence of repressed laughter on his face.

“This ain’t fair!” he yelled. “What kind of a hiding place is this? May as well climb to the top of a tree where they can’t follow you!” Ah, well, it had been nice while it lasted.

“An’ when they hide underneath furniture it’s fair?” Admitting defeat, he got to his feet, lifting himself out of the water and shaking the droplets from his head, brushing the wet strands from his eyes. Daca’li pulled himself upright and set to wringing out his own, longer hair. “I was perfectly visible, they’ve got nothing to complain about.”

“Oh, aye, you were perfectly visible.” As Rashe’a’s vision cleared and focused, he caught sight of a small, blue-haired head peeking out at him from behind his uncle. “So visible that Naih ran cryin’ back to her ma yellin’ that her uncle’d drowned.” He put a hand on the girl’s head and looked down at her. “He’s your cousin, by the way,” he told her. “I’m his uncle. And see, he’s not drowned, he’s fine. But don’t you or any of the others try that yourself.”

“Ah, come now, don’t demote me. There’s no need to be mean about it.” Rashe’a got as much water as he was going to off of his clothes and held a hand out in the direction of home, signaling his readiness to leave.

Daca’li hefted his daughter up into his arms and they set off. “Oh, I’m just having fun with you. You'll get it back eventually. Now, Tahl, she’s definitely going to have some choice words for you about how you made her daughter cry. And,” he said, turning and giving Rashe’a a smile that seemed almost threatening, “I’m pretty sure Eline’s gone and told your ma by now if Linna'to hasn't, so—“

Rashe’a felt every strand of fur on his tail stand up straight. “I— She understands there’s no harm done, right? You told her I was fine? Nothing to be worried about?” He hadn’t actually meant to worry anyone, least of all his ma. What’s more, he certainly didn’t want to be consigned to digging out new vegetable beds for the next fortnight.

Daca’li shrugged, still smiling. “I don’t know what got said or what she’s thinkin’. Tahl was demandin' I find out what was going on with you, and my daughter was cryin’ at me, so I just headed out. She probably ain’t happy though.”

Rashe’a took a deep breath. It was probably fine. It wouldn’t be a big deal. She’d understand. …Still, it was probably best to get home as quickly as he could. So he could dry off. He was starting to shiver, after all.

Because he was cold, of course. From the water.

He heard Daca’li break out into laughter behind him as he broke into a run.

[ritzcuit]

that prop that cube that metaphor is yuri i'll have you know

[dbphantom]

Titus: WHAT are you!!!!!

Celor, actively sobbing: an accountant?

[setzeri]

More FF6 for the occasion, this time with Terra and Toriyama-inspired magitek armor.

[fatedroses]

I know I design him with the intention that he becomes an evasion tank, but there's an irony I find very amusing in making his new magitek armor lighter than his original.

[coldshrugs]

ffxivwrite - prompt 3: tempest

word count: 668 rating: mature for mentions of death/violence. summary: io fights through the ghimlyt dark.

A questionable habit, keeping an arrow nocked on the slack string. Fighting through imperial hordes with one hand occupied might be a burden for most others, but the longbow is at home in Io’s left hand. The ready arrow is an extension of her arm, her will, and there are only two things she must factor before loosing it: a suitable target and the time it takes to draw the string. But arrows are precious, and this one must wait.

Io relies, instead, on the dagger in her right hand, a vicious thing, and red from her work. It isn’t as comfortable, but it gives her no trouble.

She entered the battlefield with friends. Hien, Yugiri, Pipin, Lyse, Aymeric.

Alisaie.

Through thickets of smoke and swarming bodies, Io only catches glimpses of them now. A familiar cry of determination implies Lyse is not far, and in the aftershock of an explosion, there is a flash of blue–Aymeric’s cloak–but it is swiftly swallowed by red and black. A shimmering thorned tendril punches through a few footsoldiers flanking her left side, leaving bloody mist in its wake, and relief cuts through the adrenaline. She’s alright.

But signs of her comrades' well-being become fewer and less frequent. Wave after wave of Garlean soldiers seem intent on separating her from her allies. Before long, she is alone.

One makes a bold move to rush her, sword clumsily drawn. Half an hour ago, it would've been an easy dodge. Io misses it by an ilm or two (her chest clinches–too close) but she does not miss their neck. The little blade digs through fabric shoddily enhanced by magitek, then flesh. She frees it with a rough pull, readjusting her grip on the wet handle, and the body falls to the ground.

Shittiest part of Garlean armor, the neck.

There is only action and reaction, the haze of adrenaline, her pulse rushing too loud in her ears. Io moves and the battle moves around her, a gruesome storm with her as its eye. 

She is getting sluggish, but the motions come naturally. Sidestep the heavy arc of an axe. Twist out of the path of a fiery projectile. Leap to avoid a determined shield to the chest, and leap again to use it as a springboard, launching out of range with an ungraceful backflip. Dip low, suck in air that is less choked by ceruluem, and plant a dagger into the nearest calf (she loses that one, but there is another strapped to her boot).

This is almost like dancing, she thinks, missing the ease of tathlums. Perhaps she’ll revisit them, if she lives through this.

Io recalls the sound of her own snorted laugh, but it is a sorry mental stand-in as she pants from exertion. She tosses the last dagger and it reliably finds a Garlean chest. Spin, spin, fingers drawing the string back, the ache in her arms and shoulder, and yes, it is funny. She hasn’t wanted to live so badly since… since she faced Gaius and Lahabrea. 

This deep in Ghimlyt, even that base instinct threatens to slip. In reaching for her future–any future–she is burning out.

There is no time to think about the way her throbbing nerve endings blaze, or the fatigue that beckons her to lie down in the bloody dirt, to rest.

To die. 

The bowstring is taut before she finds a mark (there are so very many), but a soldier bearing down on Aymeric earns their prize. He turns to look her way, and hope is bright in his eyes. The familiar expression fades, darkened by worry. She must look like she feels.

Then the storm shifts, imperceptibly at first, then all at once. The violence ebbs, blown off its course and back to the northeast.

Familiar shouts in the distance, and under the high, hollow ring of magitek shells laying cover fire, comes the heavy clod of Zenos’ armor.

Stay awake, Io. But there is so little left to give. Stay alive.

[starrysnowdrop]

FFXIVWrite 2024 #21: Shade (#29 Make-up)

Noun: a specter or ghost. Greek Mythology, Roman Mythology; one of the spirits of the dead inhabiting Hades.

During the events of 6.0; While the Ilsabard Contingent struggles with helping the surviving Garlean people, a strange woman is seen roaming the city ruins.

Brief mentions of @traveler-of-light’s WoLs Astrid and Arslan

As Hali continued to follow Jullus around the desolate ruins of the Garlean capital city, all the while shivering in the harsh, unforgiving cold, the lalafell struggled in vain to keep warm, despite wearing multiple layers of clothing, including the fluffy, white fur-lined pink coat Tataru had made for her. Hali thought she had been accustomed to the cold by now after all of her time spent in the endless winter of Ishgard, but as Cid had explained to her all those years ago, even the coldest Coerthan blizzard could not have prepared anyone for the utter inhospitable cold of Garlemald. She didn’t believe him then, as she chalked it up to mere exaggeration. But oh how right he was.

As the blistering winds blew around her, almost blowing the tiny lalafellin woman right off her feet and into the snow, she saw a black shrouded figure moving in the distance, slowly walking through the debris of fallen concrete walls and broken steel beams.

“Wait, is that a survivor over there?” Hali asked Jullus as she stared at the person, who looked like an Auri woman from her perspective. Upon further examination, their scales were nearly as black as their cloak, a Xaela… and so far from the Steppe. The only Xaela that should be in the area are her friends Astrid and Arslan, and also all of those of the Ilsabard Contingent, and they should all be back at Camp Broken Glass. It was such an odd sight that Hali had to do a double take.

“Hmm? Where?” Jullus looked up from the broken down Magitek armor he was inspecting.

“Over there!” Hali pointed towards the figure, who had glanced back at them with a blank stare. All that Hali could see was two piercing eyes whose green limbal rings shined brightly in the surrounding darkness.

“Could it be…?” Jullus inquired under his breath, but Hali didn’t pay attention to the Garlean’s reaction as Hali walked towards the woman.

“Hello there! Do you need help?” Before she could catch up to her, the woman turned and began to quickly walk away. “Hey, wait a minute!”

The lalafell ran to the woman, but when she rounded a pile of steel beams, the Xaela seemed to completely vanish from sight in an instant.

With confusion clear on her face, Hali turned around and saw absolutely nothing. “Huh? But they were right here! Where did they go?” She looked down and didn’t even see any footprints in the snow indicating where the woman would have retreated to. The lalafell looked back at Jullus, who was just as confused as she was, but he didn’t seem as spooked by it as she was either.

Jullus shrugged his shoulders as he replied, “Heh, seems she disappeared once again.”

“She who?”

With a sigh, Jullus looked down at Hali and began to explain. “Several of us have spotted a strange woman in a black cloak wondering around the streets, and as soon as she is spotted, she will disappear right where she stood.”

“Huh? So this has happened multiple times already? But do you have any idea who it might be?”

“Well, I know it sounds absolutely preposterous, but the same sight has been reported by about a dozen soldiers and civilians alike. And that’s not the strangest part.”

Jullus glanced over at the large, imposing, otherworldly tower where the Imperial Palace once stood proud and strong as he continued, “Some have given the exact same details of a figure like the one we just saw: a young woman with features of a Xaela, an Au Ra from the Far East with scales as black as night, and eyes that shine with a bright green glow. The exact same features as the woman whose been rumored to be Emperor Varis’ mistress.”

As soon as Jullus mentioned the Emperor’s name, it all came into focus. She was the Xaela woman who had accompanied Emperor Varis to the meeting with the Eorzean Alliance before the Battle of Ghimlyt Dark, who had spouted the exact same rhetoric as His Radiance had spoken of, and then the name finally came to her conscious mind.

“Persephone?!” Hali asked with a alarmed expression.

“Oh, so you have heard of her then.”

“I have met her once before… but I had no idea that she had survived the civil war.”

Jullus shook his head and shrugged his shoulders once more. “That’s what is so strange about it though. It was reported to Lord Quintus himself that the Lady Persephone had died in the palace shortly before the fighting broke out in the capital. So what is it that we’re all seeing? A frightened survivor? A woman turned monster? Or even a shade?”

With a shiver that Hali couldn’t distinguish as a result of the cold or of fright, Hali pulled in her coat closer to her, and decided to lighten the mood a bit as the two begun to walk back to find Alphinaud and Alisaie. “A ghost floating about the ruins? Well, I’ll be sure to warn Alphy. Heh, I can’t wait to see the look on his face!”

Persephone’s Blog: Coming Soon!

[tiphares]

happy anniversary to my favorite game n protagonist of all time, ilu terra 😭💖🎉🥳🥂