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#murderomantiques; yiuno & sora
writeraven · 11 days
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FFXIVWRITE 2024 — 05: STAMP.
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“Whether she is cute or creepy has been oft debated, but all agree it is best not to leave her to her own devices.” — Eorzea Database
TAGS: [ isorawrites. » FFXIVwrite » 2024 ]
FANDOMS: FFXIV | Sherlock Holmes.
VERSE: Heavensward » AU.
STATUS: Submitted; 1 chapter.
GENRES: Draft, Short Story.
SHIPS: Murderomantiques.
MUSES: Sora Holmes, Yiune Watson.
NPC: Zhloe Aliapoh.
stamp /stămp/ intransitive verb 01. To bring down (the foot) forcibly. 02. To bring the foot down onto (an object or surface) forcibly.
Nighttime at Idyllshire was as lively as the day, though with a different kind of crowd. Adventurers would flock through the gate, turning in their spoils from their hunts; disciples of the hand and land would rush to the vendors and fight for their share of the trade.
Further behind from the hubbub, there was an orphanage established by Zhloe Aliapoh, a Moon Keeper with a cheery personality. Even so, there was a time that had turned her smile upside down.
Though small and cramped, the foster home had its fair share of guests—from Miss Rowena, her benefactor, to the Warrior of Light, who had been a great assistance with the custom deliveries. However, this pair who followed behind her, weren’t your ordinary helpers.
The shorter of the two was of Xaela origin: clad in full black, with frills that matched her noble upbringing, except for her unblinking grey eyes that shone with cold intelligence. Her partner, a Veena in maid uniform, though appear meek at first glance, had an air of deadly grace—of someone who was capable of walking across wooden boards without a sound, even with her high heels. They introduced themselves as Sora Holmes and Yiune Watson, respectively, and they were recommended by the Warrior of Light himself.
“Here.” Khloe showed the odd duo into a vacant room on the second floor. “I have moved the children to another chamber, but—”
Before she could finish her sentence, the building shook as a thundering sound spook the poor young lady, causing her to lose her balance. Yiune the maid caught her; she noticed that the Viera had large hands.
“…I see,” Sora spoke, completely unfazed by the stamping noise from above. “So this is the reason why you seek our help.”
“T-The children are scared,” Zhloe replied after she had calmed down a little. “We tried to search for the cause of this… strange phenomenon, but we couldn’t find any.”
“What’s above this room?”
“The attic,” Khloe answered, now leaving the room and continuing the tour. “It’s where we keep the toys that the children would pick up and play.”
When the trio reached the topmost floor, the stomping sound began to echo through the orphanage. Khloe pursed her lips when her ears picked up the sound of crying.
“I’m sorry, but please excuse me while I need to attend to the children.”
After the distressed Miqo’te had left the scene, Sora turned to her maidservant. “What do you think?”
“I can feel an odd presence behind this door,” Yiune whispered, placing a hand on the attic’s entrance. Her voice sounded deeper than what one would expect from a pretty lady like her. “But… how?”
“Someone must have sneaked them under the guise of presents for the children,” Sora said, rapping on the wooden surface with her scaled fist. “A poor taste for jokes, if you ask me, especially for the month of All Saints’ Wake.”
She pushed open the door, revealing a room full of toys—or more specifically, dolls. Her nose wrinkled at the dust that shimmered in the moonlight streaming through the rooftop window. The loud stamping also ceased the moment the pair entered the attic.
“You don’t scare us, little ones—I suggest showing yourselves now.”
High-pitched giggling bounced off the walls, probably an intent to confuse the stern guests, but Sora merely sighed.
“If you please,” she said, tapping on the Veena’s arm. “Naughty children should be punished, after all.”
With a curt nod, Yiune pulled out a pair of daggers from the under her maid dress. In a flash, she appeared to slice through the air… only for a handful of broken strings to fall slowly onto the floor. Then, with insane precision, she threw her knives at two particular spots from amongst the towering collection of dolls. Walking up to retrieve her weapon, something was stuck to the end of the blade.
Twinning dolls. One in a red dress, the other in blue.
“Calca and Brina.” Sora grimaced at the culprit behind the annoying stomps. “Who in the world would think that these rascals were worth gifting?”
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AUTHOR’S NOTE.
I know the ending is a bit rushed, but I think it works for a quick writing exercise.
When I saw the prompt word, I was immediately reminded of a certain dungeon with certain enemies that were doing exactly that… I am sure most people in the community would agree with me that they were pretty annoying, especially when that sound effect booms through headphones.
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writeraven · 12 days
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FFXIVWRITE 2024 — 01: STEER.
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The Final Days were upon us. Meteors falling from the crimson sky, Blood painting the burning land, Weapons out, back to back, Once comrades, now fiends, Surrounded by despair… Will we live to see the next sunrise?
TAGS: [ isorawrites. » FFXIVwrite » 2024 ]
FANDOM: Final Fantasy XIV.
VERSE: Endwalker » MSQ.
STATUS: Submitted; 1 chapter.
GENRES: Draft, Flash Fiction.
SHIPS: Murderomantiques.
MUSES: Sora Amariyo, Yiuno Reine.
NPC: Scions of the Dawn (mentioned).
steer /stɪə/ noun; informal a piece of advice or information concerning the development of a situation.
Counting was never something that Sora Amariyo was good at. Like the chakrams that sliced their ways through the fiends with a blur, her mind was hazy as she kept repeating the same actions over and over again… But there seemed to be no end to these monsters that continued to burst forth, amongst screaming locals scuttering all over the place.
When will this end?
Her arms felt heavier with each swing; her waist was screaming against her lead-like legs that were lagging behind, and she felt disjointed with her body, the world around her…
“Sora.”
A gloved hand caught her spinning frame as she dived headfirst into the torso of someone much bigger and taller. Looking up, she pursed her lips at the muted disapproval on her mentor’s face.
“Don’t push yourself too hard.”
“I know,” Sora huffed, pushing herself away from the Viera. “But there’s no end to this.” She glanced briefly at the Scions, who were also struggling to keep up. Shrugging, she readied her glaives and prepared to make a dash through the hordes…
Only to be stopped again by Yiuno. The latter pulled her aside, just in time for a claw swipe to narrowly miss her hair by a few ilms. Unable to break out of her guardian’s iron grip, she went limp, but not without an angry chirp.
“What is your deal?”
With a sigh, Yiuno finally released the Warrior of Darkness. “I’m not here to babysit you, young lady. Either we work together as partners, or you’re going to get yourself killed in this chaos.”
Sora couldn’t believe her ears (or horns, to be exact). “Do you really think of me as your—”
“Get moving,” Yiuno cut her off curtly, but not without a slight hint of pink on his pale cheeks. “If you don’t want to die just yet, I suggest we save the idle chit-chats for later.”
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writeraven · 11 days
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FFXIVWRITE 2024 — 03: TEMPEST.
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“Being an assassin is not always about the easy kill. It’s about the best kill.” — Tricia Levenseller, Vengeance of the Pirate Queen
TAGS: [ isorawrites. » FFXIVwrite » 2024 ]
FANDOM: Final Fantasy XIV.
VERSE: Dawntrail » MSQ.
STATUS: Submitted; 1 chapter.
GENRES: Draft, Flash Fiction.
SHIPS: Murderomantiques.
MUSES: Sora Amariyo, Yiuno Reine.
NPC: Wuk Lamat, WoL (Meteor), Alphinaud & Alisaie Leveilleur.
tempest /ˈtɛmpɪst/ noun a violent windy storm.
The deck was an utter mess. Rolling waves teased with malice at the masts; the Endeavor rocked back and forth in the violent storm. Few people were scuttering about to keep the ship afloat, lest it got swallowed by Llymlaen’s rage.
However, one lone person seemed unfazed by the chaos around them.
With a firm hand around one of the study poles, Sora Amariyo watched a certain female Hrothgar falling flat on the plank, her grey eyes devoid of emotion.
“Do you want to help her?”
She was startled by the quiet yet steady voice of Yiuno Reine, her mentor (and secret crush). She glanced away, slightly annoyed at her own inability to detect his coming. “Why do I want to save that spoiled princess? I don’t even see any value in assassinating her, honestly.”
“Patience, young lady,” Yiuno drawled, patting the Xaela dancer’s head with a gloved hand. “We’re merely here to observe.”
The pair in black watched a few figures rushing up to the Third Promise of Tuliyollal, whom Sora recognized as members of the now-defunct Scions of the Seventh Dawn: the Elezen twins, Alphinaud and Alisaie Leveilleur. And of course, the Warrior of Light himself.
“Do you think we have a chance, with these Scions here?” Sora asked, turning to leave and retreating to the lower decks. “I don’t see your bookish girlfriend around.”
“Frankly speaking, I agree with your assessment—that Xbr’aal girl isn’t worth our time,” Yiuno began, trailing behind the Warrior of Darkness. “Also, Y’shtola isn’t my girlfriend; she’s just a regular client.”
Ignoring the look of disbelief on the young dancer’s face, Yiuno went on, “I’m more interested in the ‘Golden City’ they were talking about.”
“Do you think it exists? A city made of gold?”
Sora’s excitement deflated at Yiuno’s narrowed expression. “Keep your greed in check. I don’t think it’s that simple—there’s perhaps a hint of truth somewhere, even in folk tales.” Rubbing the back of his neck with a hand, Yiuno shrugged and faced his young charge. “Change of plans, then, I guess.”
Sora’s pale face broke into a grin. “I’d never say no to new adventures.”
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writeraven · 4 days
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FFXIVWRITE 2024 — 14: TELLING.
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Seven expansions. Seven poems. Where shall we go next?
TAGS: [ isorawrites. » FFXIVwrite » 2024 ]
FANDOMS: Final Fantasy XIV.
VERSE: All Expansions » MSQ.
STATUS: Submitted; 7 poems.
GENRES: Draft, Poetry.
SHIPS: Murderomantiques.
MUSES: Sora Amariyo, Yiuno Reine.
there’s no telling idiom it is not possible to know.
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there’s no telling of the coup d’état that branded us traitors
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there’s no telling of the thousand-year war that began with betrayal
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there’s no telling of the oppression that created cruelty
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there’s no telling of such despair born from longing
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there’s no telling of the ancient past that comes to a full circle
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there’s no telling of the love and peace that can bring others to ruin
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tell me: onward to new horizons what should we expect next?
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writeraven · 2 months
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NOT A DYING GASP
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After a tearful reunion with Ardbert, and before the final showdown with Emet-Selch, the Warrior of Darkness learns that the grumpy old man used to have a beautiful wife… Who looks like her mentor and not-so-secret crush.
TAGS: [ isorawrites. » Chronogenesis » Tales of the Unknown ]
LINKS: [ Tumblr » Collection, Project | AO3 » Work, Collection, Series ]
FANDOM: Final Fantasy XIV.
VERSE: Shadowbringers.
STATUS: Complete; 1 chapter.
GENRES: Flash Fiction, Humor.
SHIPS: Murderomantiques, Netheromantiques.
MUSES: Sora Amariyo, Persephone; (mentions only) Yiuno Reine, Azem.
NPC: (all mentions only) Emet-Selch, Ardbert, Crystal Exarch.
FFXIVWrite: 2022 — 16.
deiform /ˈdeɪɪfɔːm,ˈdiːɪfɔːm/ adjective godlike in form or character.
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WARNING — crossdressing (mentioned).
In a moment’s respite prior to the final showdown between the Warrior of Darkness and Emet-Selch, Sora Amariyo contemplated her next move. Well, not like she could go anywhere, really, when the Crystal Exarch’s summoning circle had made sure she must go through with the trial—or die trying.
Thanks to Ardbert’s timely appearance, fusing with his soul did help to stabilize the overabundance of light-aspected aether inside her. She was no longer spewing disgusting white blood on the ground, but that didn’t stop some red liquid trickling down the corner of her mouth.
“Hey…”
This hurts like hell. Sora knew that time would wait for no one—not even her, the very hero of the Fourteen Realms (or whatever’s left after multiple Rejoinings). Emet-Selch couldn’t care less to give her a break—he was hellbent to destroy the First. When the fate of this star rested in her hands, and none would take no for an answer.
“…Hey, wake up, I say! You’re not dead yet, so stop pretending that you are.”
Shaking her head, Sora pushed the pain to the back of her mind and opened her eyes. She gaped in surprise upon realizing who the speaker was.
“…Yiuno? Wait, that’s impossible! How in seven hells did you even get down here?”
Sora would recognize Yiuno in a heartbeat: a male Veena Viera with a youthful appearance many eons younger than his actual age, and a master of disguise who made full use of his natural androgynous features. Even when he was acting as a beautiful and seductive lady, there was no way Sora would mistaken him for anyone else. He was that special someone to her, after all.
“Who, come again?” The person blinked at Sora in confusion. He—or she, screw the pronouns—sounded just like Yiuno if he’d used a wind crystal to alter his voice. However, this stranger was dressed rather boldly, showing quite a fair bit of skin in all the right places—something that would seem out of character for Sora’s normally reserved partner. “I don’t know how you get down here, and frankly that’s unimportant. I can return you to where you should be, but only if you stop playing dead and get up.”
“Who… are you, then?”
“‘Who am I,’ you ask?” The mysterious lady let out a short laugh, throwing back her long raven locks with a graceful hand. “I’m a daughter of Demeter, the wife of Hades—ah, that makes me the queen of the underworld.”
“You what?” Sora spluttered, not quite believing what she’d just heard. “You’re married to Emet-Selch—that Hades?”
“Oh, did he cheat behind my back again?” The lady in black rolled her eyes with a sigh. “Not his first time, and it certainly won’t be the last. At least he crawls back to me every time I threaten to leave him for Azem.”
Giving an outstretched hand to Sora, she smiled. “My name is Persephone. Just get up already, or you’d be dead for real. Time is running short, and you’ve got a hot-blooded date with my oh-so-angsty husband beyond this rift.”
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writeraven · 5 months
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SACRED POSSESSION
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“My sister and I, you will recollect, were twins, and you know how subtle are the links which bind two souls which are so closely allied.” — Arthur Conan Doyle, The Adventure of the Speckled Band (The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes)
TAGS: [ isorawrites. » Chronogenesis » Tales of the Future Past ]
LINKS: [ Tumblr » Collection, Project | AO3 » Work, Collection, Series ]
FANDOM: Final Fantasy XIV.
VERSES: Pre-A Realm Reborn.
STATUS: Complete; 1 chapter (2 parts).
GENRES: Short Story, Family, Slice of Life.
SHIPS: Necromancers, Murderomantiques (implied).
MUSES: Sora Amariyo, Yiuno & Yiuna Reine.
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WARNING ― crossdressing.
Sora Amariyo swept a stray strand of hair off her forehead as the chocobo carriage trotted through the woods of the Black Shroud. The wind against her pale face became colder as they continued their way to the Coerthas Central Highlands, where winter prevailed its terrain all year long. Seeing that this would be a long journey ahead, Sora turned to her other traveling companion, a Veena Viera by the name of Yiuno Reine.
Those who had heard of his name often described him as an enigmatic wanderer of the realm, a man of mystery who walked along the fine boundary of light and darkness. Though he’d been Sora’s guardian and protector for as long as the young Xaela could remember, no one knew why he willingly took Sora under his wing, given his notorious reputation of coming and going like the wind, leaving naught behind—like a ghost of the forgotten past.
Yiuno didn’t like being the center of attraction, and his dress sense clearly reflected that desire—of monochromic colors and minimalistic design. However, one thing that stood out from his seemingly mundane glamours was the leather-bound emerald necklace around his neck. While it’d appear worthless in the eyes of any jewelers and treasure hunters, Sora could tell that the accessory meant a lot to Yiuno; he often kept it close to him, and his normally sharp gaze would soften with fondness whenever he touched the crystal.
“A gift from someone dear to you? You’re always wearing that, even if it clashes with some of your disguises,” Sora spoke as she watched Yiuno fiddling with the green crystal.
���From Yiuna, my older twin sister,” the male Veena replied, looking up at Sora’s hard gaze with mild amusement. “Perhaps it’s a story I can humor you with until we reach our destination…”
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Amongst the treacherous mountains and steep ridges, a small village existed in the heart of the valley. Shrouded in rolling clouds of icy mists and the shadows of uneven summits, this little settlement was undiscovered for eons, its people living in secluded peace far away from the chaos of the commonfolk. The villagers were a sight to behold: fair like the snow capes, graceful like the spring breeze, with their main characteristic being a pair of long, hare-like ears perched on top of their fluffy hair. Called ‘Veena Viera’ by the scholars of the outside world, little was known about their kind, for most curious souls who dared to venture into their territory never lived to see the next sunrise.
Similar to their sister clan, the Rava Viera, they followed a matriarchal structure to maintain order within their small community. Females stayed in the village and acted as the central pillar, just like the monarchies of the outside cities who focused on the politics within the walls. As for the males, they were stationed outside of the settlement as hunters and protectors, braving the dangerous mountains and harsh climate to keep their village safe from external threats. Both genders lived separate lives until the mating season; once every year, a representative or two would drop by to collect children who were assigned male after they had come out of their puberty, then they’d train them to be battle-ready to replenish their ranks. While the strict code and solitude lifestyle had ensured their continuous survival in peace, it wasn’t a sentiment shared by all.
In particular, two adolescents who often sneaked out of the village on every full moon, seemingly in search of something. One of them could be found standing under a birch tree; she wore the standard chest-wrap with armored lingerie covered with a translucent veil down the middle. However, she was fidgeting with her breastplate from time to time, clearly uncomfortable with the clothes she was wearing. She shivered a little as a cold draft blew through the valley, then she flattened the veil and tried to tuck the hem between her legs, a deep shade of pink coloring her pale cheeks under the glow of the full moon above her head.
Her meekness quickly dispersed when her long ears picked up a shuffling sound not far from her location; she drew out a dagger from the scabbard around her ankle, all poised in a battle stance. “Who’s there?” Contrary to her soft and alluring outward appearance, her voice was harsh and hoarse—she sounded rather masculine.
“It’s just me, silly.” A figure emerged from the bushes and brisked towards the anxious Veena. Once she stepped out of the shadow into the moonlight, she had a near-identical face as the former, wearing the same set of harness, with the only distinguishing feature being an extra braid running down the right side of her head. “Be careful not to speak aloud within the village grounds, lest someone else heard you and you’d be whisked away in a jiffy.” Although she was still smiling, there was a hint of sadness in her voice.
“I know,” the twin with a deeper voice sighed, sheathing her dagger before straightening up to face her sister. “But the elders are getting suspicious. They have been staring hard at my chest for the past few days and voiced dissatisfaction at my ‘stunned’ growth.”
“I’m sorry that I’m putting you through all this, [Yiuno], but… I can’t bear to lose you. You’re the only family I have. My precious little brother.”
Yiuno pulled her—his—twin closer into a hug. “You’re my one and only big sister, [Yiuna], as troublesome as you are. So, did you find what you’ve been looking for?”
“Yes,” Yiuna breathed, then she stepped back to pull out something from her pouch. “Give me your hand.” She placed an emerald shard in her brother’s palm. “With this, you can speak freely in the village.”
“A wind-aspected crystal?” Yiuno asked, raising the fragment to see it better in the light of the full moon. He could see the glow pulsating within the shard, almost like it was alive with some kind of power. “I’m amazed that you actually found one. Are you hurt anywhere?”
“Oh, you’re such a worrywart for me, every single time,” Yiuna cooed with a chuckle. “You should worry about yourself first, and more.” She pulled off her hair ribbon and fashioned it into a chain around the crystal, turning it into a necklace before putting it around Yiuno’s neck. “With a bit of aetherial manipulation, this can change your current voice to make you sound more feminine.”
“Very handy,” Yiuno murmured, and he raised a hand to touch the shard. Closing his eyes, he concentrated for a short moment to charge it with his own aether. “Something like this?” His eyebrows arched at the voice that came out of his mouth—while it wasn’t as girly as Yiuna’s, it was passable, like the mature tone of a grown woman.
“Perfect!” Yiuna grinned with a thumbs-up. “Now that you can talk normally without straining your vocal cord… And I’ll think of something to fill your breastplate.” Her smirk widened at the look of embarrassment on Yiuno’s face.
“Do we have to go that far? You know that we can’t stay like this forever. They will find out about us sooner or later.”
“Let that be later, my dear brother—no, little sister,” Yiuna replied, adjusting her twin’s harness with a playful glint in her eyes. “Crafting a padded undershirt that matches your skin tone is child’s play, compared to searching the whole mountain range for many moons just for that one magic crystal.”
Yiuno pursed his lips at his twin’s nonchalant reaction, but he clasped a hand around the emerald shard with a small smile.
Thank you—my lovely, mischief-making sister.
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writeraven · 11 months
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THE HOWLING BARK — 02
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CHAPTERS: [ 01 | 02 | 03 ]
TAGS: [ isorawrites. » Sora Holmes Case Files ]
LINKS: [ Tumblr » Story, Project | AO3 » Work, Series ]
SHIPS: Murderomantiques; Laniaitte & Emmanellain.
MUSES: Sora Holmes, Yiune Watson.
NPC: Laniaitte de Haillenarte, Emmanellain de Fortemps.
FFXIVWrite: 2023 — 02.
bark /bɑːk/ noun; archaic・literary a ship or boat.
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With the formalities out of the way, Laniaitte ushered Sora and Yiune into a treetop house with a great view of the rolling clouds on the horizon, which also served as the command room for the Rose Knights. In the middle of the cozy interior was a large rectangular table covered with a map. Some charting equipment scattered across the surface with a handful of dried leaves, the latter which Laniaitte swept off to the ground with a graceful wave.
“I shall get straight to the point,” Laniaitte began, moving a chess piece to the only other aetheryte marked on the map. “Even without the threat of the primal Bismarck, we have been maintaining the peaceful relationship with the Vanu Vanu tribes in the Ok’ Zundu village. ’Tis an oath I swore to Ser Syndrei when he came and aided my brethren to end the thousand-year bloodbath—and one I will keep at all costs, with my pride as both a knight of Ishgard and a member of House Haillenarte. And that I did.”
Laniaitte then shifted the pawn towards a small floating island marked with a red scarf. “The Redbills, however, is another story. Though their contributions to stop the ancient voidsent Diabolos from destroying the world were no small feats, these pirates view modus operandi like a poison to the freedom of the clear skies they seek.”
“So they prefer to stay in the gray,” Sora murmured, nodding slowly as she listened to Laniaitte. “A color that’s neither black nor white, its shade changing freely along the spectrum as they see fit.”
Shadows stretched across the room as the sun began to set, the rays streaming through the windows and lighting up the world map with a fiery glow. “Your brother had assured me that the Redbills were no threat—and I am more than happy to keep the current status quo. Aside from coming down to our camp to purchase supplies from time to time, we do not meddle in each other’s affairs unless absolutely necessary.” Laniaitte moved the chessman to a white space marked with an X. “Until this.”
Crossing her arms before her, the lady commander gazed out of the window, the solemn expression on her refined face plain in the setting sun. “Umbral wind is a common occurrence here in the Abalathia’s Spine, but the weather has suddenly taken for the worse in recent times.”
“Something unnatural must have happened,” Sora reasoned, her eyes locked onto the spot marked on the map. “And you believe that the cause is located there?”
“It began when the Redbills came to us one day about a strange sighting,” Laniaitte turned to face the young envoy and replied. “At first, they thought that the Void Ark was reactivated by unknown forces and moved on its own. They flew to the site where the Mhach ships were originally located and found no signs of foul play. Then, the Vanu Vanu tribes from Ok’ Zundu came to us about the story of ‘Tirpitz,’ an entity they believed to be related to Bismarck.”
“And you think they might be connected in some ways?”
Sighing, Laniaitte picked up a spyglass and twirled it in her hands. “I admit that I was skeptical about tall tales—I told my men to stay vigilant, and they were to report to me immediately if they notice any anomalies. It was a moon later when we finally saw it.”
“I-It?” Emmanellain spluttered, accidentally spilling some tea down his front. He had been watching the lady captain silently with unfocused eyes the whole time, and Laniaitte had forgotten that he was even in the room. “What… did you see?”
“The Howling Bark.”
Laniaitte smirked at the fear on Emmanellain’s pale face. She then kicked open a chest and pulled out some fur coats. “It’s going to be a long night, so I suggest that you all should keep yourselves warm. An umbral snowstorm usually accompanies its appearance.”
Sora’s face wrinkled at the winter clothes that Yiune was helping her to put on. “Well, I guess we aren’t able to escape the Ishgardian cold, after all.”
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writeraven · 11 months
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THE HOWLING BARK — 01
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CHAPTERS: [ 01 | 02 | 03 ]
TAGS: [ isorawrites. » Sora Holmes Case Files ]
LINKS: [ Tumblr » Story, Project | AO3 » Work, Series ]
SHIPS: Murderomantiques; Laniaitte & Emmanellain.
MUSES: Sora Holmes, Yiune Watson.
NPC: Laniaitte de Haillenarte, Emmanellain de Fortemps.
FFXIVWrite: 2023 — 01.
envoy /ˈɛnvɔɪ/ noun a messenger or representative, especially one on a diplomatic mission.
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Camp Cloudtop had never been this crowded since the Second Dragonsong War, as far as the commander of the Rose Knights could remember. Narrowing her gaze at a small airship approaching the landing amongst a sea of clouds, Laniaitte de Haillenarte recalled the letter from her brother, Stephanivien, of the Skysteel Manufactory:
Knowing him, I’m sure Inspector Briardien would be most delighted to accept your case and solve such an intriguing mystery for a fellow countryman. Alas, the inspector is still in Thavnair, where he was last sighted with a certain gentleman of light. He did recommended someone who might be equally interested, though Ser Briardien didn’t sound particularly thrilled about this person.
Turning the letter over, Laniaitte scrutinized at the missive attached. While some Ishgardians were acquainted with the Sharlayans in Idyllshire (that was later abandoned), it was the Second Final Days that truly brought the different nations together to combat a common threat. Thanks to the Warrior of Light and the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, the song of oblivion had been silenced forevermore, and the realm was slowly but surely recovering from the scars of war and despair. Though Old Sharlayan might have re-opened its borders to foreign trades and talents, Laniaitte would never expect these conservative scholars to skip the political formalities and send an envoy straight to her post.
Once the airship was safely docked at the landing, the lady commander stepped forward with a temple knight’s salute. “Welcome to Camp Cloudtop. I am Laniaitte, captain of the Rose Knights. We have been expecting your arrival.”
“I appreciate the warm welcome.” Amongst the three figures that emerged from the airship, the speaker was a petite Xaela lass in a black Gothic dress. Her short silver hair shimmered under the midday sun, but the heat did not melt the iciness in her gray eyes. “All the more so when you look back at the frigid climate of Ishgard.” Next to her, a Veena maid trailed behind her mistress dutifully, and she appeared to be keeping the third company at a distance. The latter broke Laniaitte’s impassive face into a scowl.
“My lady!” Emmanellain de Fortemps spread his arms upon greeting his not-so-secret crush. His excitement faltered under Laniaitte’s narrow look, and he hastily turned his overbearing gesture into an awkward bow. “I-It’s such an honor to be graced by your radiating presence—”
“You can save the pleasantries for your little party affairs, young lord,” the lady commander cut him off, her tone as hard as her armor plate. “I do not recall requesting any assistance from House Fortemps.”
“Be at ease, Lady Laniaitte,” the Gothic Au Ra drawled with amusement. “We happened to encounter Lord Emmanellain in Old Sharlayan. The poor lad missed the last ferry to Limsa Lominsa, and we decided to take him along, since we have a common destination. Oh,” she paused to glance at her Viera maid. “He also offered to show us around his motherland as a token of gratitude, did he not?”
“Certainly he did, Milady,” the maid replied softly. Laniaitte couldn’t help raising an eyebrow at the mature voice that oddly contrasted with her meek appearance. “The young lord was most enthusiastic to take us to the Gold Saucer. Something about maidens in bunny outfits—”
“T-T-That’s for another time!” Emmanellain squeaked, shuddering at Laniaitte’s look of contempt with guilt. “But beautiful leporine ladies are a rare sight to behold!”
“I’m truly flattered by your gracious praise for my partner, but as you can see, we are here on an important business.” The corner of Laniaitte’s lips twitched slightly, intrigued by the young goth’s elegant comeback. With a curtsey, the horned visitor introduced herself proper.
“I am Sora Holmes, a mystery academician and acting envoy of Sharlayan—and this is my personal assistant, Yiune Watson. I accept your case at the behest of my brother and the Warrior of Light, Syndrei.”
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writeraven · 11 months
Text
THE HOWLING BARK
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Knowing him, I’m sure Inspector Briardien would be most delighted to accept your case and solve such an intriguing mystery for a fellow countryman. Alas, the inspector is still in Thavnair, where he was last sighted with a certain gentleman of light. He did recommended someone who might be equally interested, though Ser Briardien didn’t sound particularly thrilled about this person.
Lady Laniaitte de Haillenarte of the Rose Knights is a practical commander who does not believe in unfounded rumors of the largely peaceful Sea of Clouds. She has even less patience to deal with a certain young lord of another high house, whom she does not reciprocate his one-sided feelings for her. Until the appearance of a mysterious destroyer-class airship that can make the Void Ark a run for its money.
TAGS: [ isorawrites. » Sora Holmes Case Files ]
LINKS: [ Tumblr » Project | AO3 » Work, Series ]
FANDOMS: FFXIV | Sherlock Holmes.
VERSE: Heavensward » AU.
STATUS: Ongoing; ?? chapters.
GENRES: Crossover, Adventure, Mystery, Dark Humor.
SHIPS: Murderomantiques; Laniaitte & Emmanellain.
MUSES: Sora Holmes, Yiune Watson.
NPC: Laniaitte de Haillenarte, Emmanellain de Fortemps.
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WARNING — Both Final Fantasy XIV and Sherlock Holmes series contain dark and mature themes, such as blood, death, crime and murder, violence, moral ambiguity, psychological horror, etc. See respective chapters for details.
CHAPTERS.
The Envoy from Old Sharlayan. (ENVOY)
A Tall Tale Revealed. (BARK)
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DISCLAIMERS.
SHERLOCK HOLMES CREATED BY ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE. FINAL FANTASY XIV © SQUARE ENIX. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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