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thevictoryofthepeople · 2 years ago

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★⋆* Character Outline

FULL NAME: Ja

TITLE(S): The Magnetic Attraction, The Fallen One, Phoebus Apollo’s Prized One

NICKNAME(S): Smiles

╳ FLAWS.

♔ STRENGTHS.

🖌 SKILLS & HOBBIES.

#the magnetic attraction {misc: ja}#the light will fall on me again {headcanons: ja}

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reushq · 3 years ago

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ABOUT

Name: Hephaestus Galani. Occupation: CFO of Aegean Waters. Age: 40s, exact birth date unknown. Gender & Pronouns: Cis man, he/his. Faceclaim: Matthew Macfadyen. Can be seen: Huddled in whispers with Poseidon & Circe, ignoring calls from Apollo & Athena, declining day-trip invitations from Aphrodite in favour of reading in the shade, secretly searching the horizon for Olympe’s shadow.

STATS

Influence ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ Charisma ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ Protection ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ Information ★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ Experience ★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆

CODEX

Hephaestus is not one to speak about its past - not particularly out of sentiment or difficulty, but because he finds it humiliating. Humiliating to be unwanted, abandoned at Olympe’s gates as a toddler. Humiliating, to be found by one of the city’s attendants, raised in a parody of normalcy. Humiliating, especially now, when so many of his associates wear their parentage like a diadem. How fitting that whoever left him appealed to the Rheas’ mercy rather than that of Chaos - for only one of them possesses tangible influence, after all.

Raised in the Rhea’s distant periphery, he was entirely in their service. Every now and then, he was invited to play with the children—and on such occasion he caught Zeus’ attention. Young Hephaestus drew the King’s eye by way of wit and sport, when he bested Apollo several times in chess. He was afforded tutoring alongside the magnate’s many offspring. From then on, he was raised to be seen among them—but not as one of them.

Of course, it was better than to be sidelined forever, and Hephaestus embraced this humility eagerly. Again and again, he was praised for abiding by his station and his cleverness when it suited the family; again and again, he was promised his due reward by the patriarch. Again and again, his case was postponed. Favored as a protege, but never as a son.

This continued for years, until a position opened - close to Zeus, a feat of stratagem, as necessary as air - and he was passed over. The role was given to Athena. He despaired as he had lived, in silence and composure.

It was Poseidon who grew tired. Tired of watching a man make a fool of himself. Tired of seeing potential wasted. The proposal came fresh off the heels of Hera’s betrayal, which had already fled Olympe for Pontius. Poseidon was gathering allies, and Hephaestus knew better than to ask why. He never once looked back.

CONNECTIONS

Familial Connections: None.

Professional connections: Poseidon (boss, once underestimated, now esteemed). Circe (coworker, intellectual respect). Aphrodite (coworker, frivolous if not clever). Hermes (coworker, altogether too hyper). Icarus (former ally, swept them off their feet... and into Zeus' pocket). Patroclus (coworker, curious asset). Ariadne (coworker, potential liability).

Social connections: Hera (bonded in betrayal). Zeus (former boss, as hollow as he is hallowed). Ares (tactical avoidance). Athena (admiration and envy, paragon of nepotism). Artemis (laudable achievements, far more so than her twin). Apollo (annoyance, cocksure dilettente). Dionysus (failed business ventures, amazing party host).

WRITTEN BY MOD K.

#a.#t.#pt.#hephaestus.

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whitherliliesbloom · 4 years ago

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from now on

[ ffxivwrite2020 ] ★ [ masterlist ] ★ [ prompt #19 - where the heart is ]

[ alphinaud/wol ] ★ [ 1,566 words ] ★ [ post-5.3 ]

alphinaud leveilleur, brief appearance by the other scions. mentions of amaurotine illya and alphinaud. Gif header was heavily inspired by @under-the-blood-moonlight‘s gif of nyx and emet ;w; Probably won’t make any sense if you don’t know apollo and chloris’ character dynamic and what happened to them.

if all was lost is more i gain, cause it led me back to you and we will come back home again

It feels like an eternity that his soul has wandered. Far and wide in this desolate, colorless world with no aim, no goals, no dreams. The bleakest existence imagination, one without light.

And it was he who chose to walk this path of no return.

There can be no second chances for someone who would forsake the sun, or one who would crush a flower whilst in bloom. He’d pluck the wings off a dove, drove a knife into the heart of a lamb.

No matter his thoughts or the words he’d used to pen his regrets, there was but a singular constant. A blinding light - one that he was sure he will never reach for all eternity.

There was nothing glamorous or poetic about his last moments or the way he’d laid among the rubble and bodies of fellow faceless shadows that dissipated into ash that fluttered away with the wind.. nor was the thoughts that plagued his mind just as he slipped away anything merciful upon a dying man.

Beautiful and effervescent. But not merciful.

He’d remembered her - his very essence and soul, frail and weak as it may be, thought of her even beyond death.. because curse the fool he was for refusing to admit that he loved her more than anything else in existence.

How could he not have realized when all he could think of was memories of her?

From the endless field of flowers she’d conjured with an effortless twirl under the morning sun, fluttering the hem of her sun dress as she left little lilies blooming at the bottom of her feet with each step she took. Or the dazzling starlights that sprung forth from her gentle palms that flew and made their home in the dark sky, before bursting into an aurora of colors that blew the clouds away. And even when she’d laid to rest, fallen asleep on her chair beside him in that familiar, dusty library, her visage was a comfort to him, the perfect lamplight he had for comfort.. despite his blaming her for the very reasons for his own struggles.

His own hands and feather pen were a hazy memory, as were his accomplishments, if he even had any in life. But he remembers her shape most vividly.

Whose thoughts were these? Whose memories possessed him?

What was his name?

A....Ap.... Apo....

No, that wasn’t right. And no matter how hard the man tried to focus his thoughts on the letters of his name, the splotches of ink only served to deepen this sickening, soul crushing guilt.

He didn’t deserve a name. He didn’t deserve to remember. He can’t even understand why, but he just knows that his soul was one of a tainted, murky color.

The wandering soul looks up, and he sees a figure that brings clarity to his vision.

He remembers her name clear as crystal, better than he had memorized the words upon his tomes. He’d spent a fraction of his time alive looking at her compared to his studies.. and yet it was her who’d been imprinted into his mind after all.

Azem. The shepherd. Mother of Life. Flora. She was called many different things by many different people. But all he could think to call her was Chloris.

And he sees ahead, the lone blossom in an endless plane of white snow that was her eyes obscured from his view under the blinds of her bangs. There is blood in his veins for but a moment, and he almost remembers how to breath, as if she were the ocean wind that he needed to remind him. But she turns, and before he could even think, she’s running towards a future he will never be a part of, taking what little shattered pieces of his heart he had left to remember himself with her. His hand raises up by instinct, grasping helplessly as she begins to drift further and further from his reach.

Don’t go.

I have so many things I still want to say, so many things I have to tell you.

I still need to apologize.

Even if you will never forgive me, even if you hate me for all eternity. I just want you to hear what I have to say.

And I promise to be honest this time. I promise. I promise.

Don’t go don’t go don’t go don’t go don’t go don’t go--

He’s blinded by the lights. Despite his own sobs, the room is unbearably quiet, and he sinks into a puddle left by droplets of his own tears.

There is no place for him, nowhere to call home.

Nowhere he will ever see her again.

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

His head throbs as he opens his eyes only to be blinded by the light of the chandelier. For a moment he feels as if he’s underwater, listening to the distant muffled sounds and voices that surround him.

When he finally regains his bearings, and notes the dreary tiles that made up the ceiling, he forces himself to focus on a strangely familiar voice, one that fills him with an inexplicably great amount of regret.. yet relief.

“A-are you okay?? Can you hear me?”

A pair of vibrant violet blossoms stare down at him, and it feels as if they are the very first colors he’s ever seen in this world. And though the expression she wore upon her face was one of worry, it was like a breathe of life on his heavy body. Looking upon her... hearing her voice... it was like the arrival of spring itself.

“Oh thank the twelve... you’re okay. You’ll be okay.” He feels a gloved hand clasping over his, and his accursed being is blessed with the sight of her utterly radiant smile. “I managed to stabilize your aether and charge you with some of my own mana, but you may still feel a little dizziness, so please take some time to rest.”

“Illya, could I get your help with Alisaie, please?” Krile calls out, and the lalafellin with pure white hair responds back without hesitation. She was ever enthusiastic to help others, far too enthusiastic for her own good. Even if it meant sacrificing every drop of her blood to restore the wounds of others, even if it meant stomping her own light that burned within her, she’d throw aside all concepts of her own worth aside to save others.

She’d saved him, of all people.. who did nothing but struggle as she fished him out of the depths of the ocean. Again and again.

“Yes, right away.”

She turns on her heels to leave, and he instantly feels bile rise up his throat. He sees that dream flash in his eyes and cloud all in his path, and all he can see is that blinding light again, and the wavering visage of her back turned to him.

Don’t go don’t go don’t go don’t go don’t go don’t go don’t--

“A-Alphinaud??”

It’d be odd to say a supernatural force drove him, but that was the best way he could explain the un-fightable urge he had to throw himself forward, trapping her in his arms and pulling the girl back against his chest. It felt like a compulsion - like every inch of his being had been begging him to catch her.. He doesn’t think to resist himself, and allows the shackles that has kept his limbs bound for god knows how long to finally break apart.

The god of knowledge, enthralled by the embodiment of life and hope, has all but thrown his self-restraint and logic to the wind in favor of restoring his shattered heart.

He knows without a shadow of a doubt that his very soul has been searching for her, waiting for her for as long as all the stars in the sky were given birth and burst into dust, perhaps even longer than the sun and moon have collectively hung in the sky.

He’s waited, and he’s finally found home, right where she is closest to him.

“P-please- Don’t.... don’t go.” He wonders if this begging voice of his were his own, but when he feels the pounding of his own heart against his chest, he knows with certainty that this desire was genuine.

He remembers a name - they called her by many, both in this life and the last. But the one she had been granted by birth twenty four summers ago was his favorite.

“Illya.. Illya.. Please..”

He feels her hand clasp over his again, and his crippling fear of being left behind is washed away with her melodious voice.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

He’d begged for a second chance somewhere in a distant past. But he’s instead been given many, many chances that he rightfully did not deserve. And as merciful a soul as she was, he has no intentions of ever misusing her kindness. He doesn’t have the strength to. Not again.

She sinks back against him and sits upon the bed, letting the side of her head rest against his own, though quickly shooting an apologetic glance up at Krile, who can only shrug her shoulders with a wry smile.

Alisaie’s words of derision go ignored, as do the lengthy stares of the other scions.

It matters naught to him, not anymore.

Because he’s home. And from now till forever, he will never leave.

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite2020 #ffxivwrite #alphinaud leveilleur #alphinaud #illya skawi #antheia #apollo #fanfic #mine #5.3 spoilers #we've come so far #kiwisffxivwrite2020 #this took like.. a million years to write #was distracted between watching youtube videos and suffering from a mild headache #this was supposed to be a lot longer and include two extra scenes after this but #i thought it flowed better and was more fitting to the theme to just end it there #i might write those extra scenes as a separate entry if there's a prompt for it in later days #because those are.. pretty significant and important to their development too

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