#muse: Gyr

[tallbluelady]

when they lean in to get something off of their face and the other literally stops breathing for a second

When the second waltz concluded and the pair reluctantly let each other go, Rowan and Urianger found a planter to hide behind lest they be caught by those who wanted to make more small talk, even after they had found a secluded spot.

"I don't know about you, but I feel as though I've had my fill of balls for a lifetime," Rowan said as she sat down on the ground.

"I cannot say that I've attended as many as thou hast, but I do concur that the social aspect doth be rather draining," Urianger nodded.

They talked for a while, mostly about how they never felt comfortable having to make small talk at parties and how they felt as though something was expected of them that no one ever asked for aloud. Then there was a great gust of wind and Rowan felt herself sputtering a bit as loose flower petals from the Menagerie's flowers began to buffet her face. Twas a rather unexpected gale in the evening, and she could have sworn the Skywatchers said the skies were going to be clear for the night of the ball.

"How portentous..." Urianger mused, even as he wiped his face to remove debris from his face. 

"Is it a good or bad portent?" Rowan asked.

"That doth depend on the direction the wind bloweth from. Seeing as the wind blew towards us as the sun set, twas a zephyr - oft a sign of good fortune. Mayhap it serveth to remove Garlemald's influence on Gyr Abania."

"Mayhap it could help our Doman allies return home as well," Rowan said. 

He smiled. "Indeed. A sign from Llymlean for safe passage."

She smiled back, then noticed that there was aught still stuck in Urianger's beard. She told him as much and leaned in to try and get the bit of plant matter out. He gave a soft gasp and Rowan saw his eyes grow wide. She found that her heart was beating harder so she quickly plucked it out and leaned back to avoid anymore awkwardness.

"There, all good." She held up the offending bit of leaf to prove she didn't just lean in for the thrill of it. "Uh, sorry, it caught my attention."

Urianger shook his head and returned to some level of composure. "There doth be naught to forgive."

[sheepwithspecs]

Freedom of Choice

|| FFXIV || Rated G || XIVRarepairWeek2024 ||

Ao3 Link

He was an idealist, she was a realist; can I make it any more obvious?

Day 1: Fated Arenvald x Fordola

“I wish you’d turn out that light.”

Arenvald turned his attention from the creased parchment in his hands, peering through his bangs at his sullen bedmate. Fordola had her face buried in one of his spare pillows, both arms burrowed beneath it as though she planned to smother herself in the soft featherdown. “Some of us are trying to sleep,” she added, her trademark scowl evident in every muffled word. At that moment, the midnight bell chimed low and strong from the chronometer.  

“Sorry, sorry.” Smiling patiently, he refolded the parchment and tossed it onto the bedside table. “It’s only that Alphinaud’s letters are always so interesting,” he explained, adjusting his legs with painstaking care before shoving a pillow beneath them. Pillows and cushions had come to be indispensable in the months since his accident, being one of the easiest ways to prevent pressure sores. He was on his way to becoming something of a connoisseur, gathering castoffs from all over Ala Mhigo in order to gauge the quality of the fabric, the firmness, the moldability, even the strength of the stitching. Fordola made no mention of his growing stash, though perhaps that was because she seemed to prefer using him as a pillow instead.

“He’s going to the New World soon,” Arenvald settled the bedclothes over his legs with a heartfelt sigh. “Tural, he said. I’m almost jealous… I wish I could go.”

“Then go,” Fordola grunted, peering at him from beneath her elbow. “Put that linkshell of yours to use and tell him you’re coming along for the ride.”  

“I could go, I suppose,” he mused, lacing his fingers on his stomach. “It’s not as though I’m bound by any real authority, not like when I was a Scion. And it’d be nice to travel again; exploring the star, meeting new people, delving into ancient ruins or scaling mountains in search of adventure…. But I’m better off staying here. There’s still plenty to do for Ala Mhigo, not to mention the former Skulls and their families. The Silver Griffins need me now more than ever.”  

“Glad that’s settled. Turn out the light.”

“Besides….” Arenvald grinned. “I’d much rather wait until a certain someone can come along, too.”

“It might take a long time, if you’re banking on me.” She gave up the pretense of sleep, rolling onto her side to face him. “Who knows when they’ll see fit to set me free, if they care to at all. Time means nothing to a gaoler.”

“If you ask me, you’re one of the few things in my life worth waiting for.”

“Hmph.”

Arenvald couldn’t bring himself to voice the full truth: the thought of being so far away from her, even for a day, was almost too much to bear. The Resistance soldiers already joked that they were nigh inseparable, with Fordola serving as a volunteer for the Silver Griffins as well as his unofficial bodyguard in the field.

There were, of course, those who found their relationship less than palatable, snide whispers and sidelong glances. The bastard and the butcher. There were those who insisted that Fordola must have seduced him, perhaps employing some Garlean technological trick that kept him in her thrall. Others were more simple in their hatred, calling her a whore and him a whoreson in the same breath. They weathered the insults in stride, her raging fire the fuel for his diplomatic tongue.

At their core, they were the same—children of Ala Mhigo. His half-Garlean blood had left him no better off than her efforts to earn their favor. In Garlean eyes, they were savages; to Gyr Abanians, they were traitors. If his lot in life was easier, it was only due to the fact that he’d arrived on the winning team, so to speak. It was strange to think that in another life he might have been a Skull, or she a Scion.

“Do you think—” he began, the thought sparking an idea, “that if things had happened differently—if our lives had been different, I mean—would we have still ended up like this?”

“What are you going on about now?” she huffed. “I thought we were talking about the New World.”

“I know, but listen. Remember that time after your father died, when you had a chance to run away from Ala Mhigo and start a new life with the refugees? What if you had? Or what if I had never left the city, and instead I’d joined up with the Skulls when I was older, or… or anything else, really. Do you think we’d have still found one another, even if things were different?”

Fordola stared at him without a word, lips parted in utter disbelief. After a moment she fell back to the pillow with a groan, rubbing her eyes with the heels of both palms.  

“Probably not?! What the hells kind of question is that?!”

“You don’t think we’re meant to be?”

“No! No one’s meant to be!” she snapped, gracing him with her best snarl. Her brows were furrowed deep enough to nearly meet over her nose, lips twisted almost comically in her annoyance. “There’s no such thing as soulmates or what have you; it’s all a heap of rubbish! That’s the sort of tripe spouted off by poets with no more common sense than a dodo two days from the axe.”

“But what about fate? Destiny? You don’t believe in that?”

“Tch! Of course not!” Fordola sat up, looming over him with a stern glare. “Fate’s nothing but a bloody myth. People do things because they want to, not because the stars are aligned. Rhalger himself could tell me otherwise and I still wouldn’t believe a single word. I’m here because I choose to be here, and no other reason. The only one in charge of my destiny is me. Now turn off this godsdamned light and stop asking silly questions!”

She lunged across the bed before he could move, arms straining to reach as she forcefully clicked the lantern shut, dousing the flame within and throwing the room into darkness. He blinked the spots from his eyes, waiting until she rolled back to her side of the bed before venturing to speak.

“Do you know what I think?”

“For fuck’s sake— No, I don’t know, and I don’t care to. Go to sleep!”

“I think that in every world, all the parts of you and all the parts of me… we always find one another, no matter what.”  

“Well, Ithink your friends are a bunch of liars. I’ll believe in other worlds when I see them for myself, and not a day before.”

“I think we knew each other before, when there was only one world. I think even in the Final Days we were together. I think—”

“Arenvald!” He fell silent, heart beating strong with conviction. Now that the thought had taken root in the forefront of his mind, it was nearly impossible to ignore. Maybe this was part of the Echo, the memory of what once-was. Maybe Fordola didn’t feel the same way because the Resonant was not built with such capabilities in mind. Or maybe she was right, and he was just being ridiculous. But even so—

He was startled from his thoughts by cool fingers on his chin, turning his head with a gentle touch that belied his partner’s strength. She placed a clumsy kiss on the corner of his mouth, the barest flutter of lips, before resting her cheek on his chest.

“If it makes you feel better to think that way, go ahead and believe it,” she sighed, the breath tickling his sternum. “But don’t get upset when I call you a fool.”

“I think—” He wormed his arm beneath her, pulling until she was flush to his side. Even in this way, they seemed to fit together so well…. “I think that’s just my way of saying that I’d choose you in every lifetime, too.”

“Hmph. That’s not what I said.”

“That’s what you meant, though, isn’t it?” Arenvald smirked. He could practically feel the full force of her blush, hot as an iron against his bare skin. “Isn’t it? Fordola?”

“… Shut up and go to sleep.”   

[genderdotcom]

ffxivwrite2024 day 13: butte

the warrior of light and lyse do some amateur geomorphology. (stb)

“Night will soon be upon us, my friends.” Announced Hien, his eye on the mountainous horizon. “We should take shelter ere it falls.”

Gosetsu cast his gaze around the Azim Steppe, illuminated in the red, purple, gold of sunset, and nodded.

“That hill, perhaps?” 

“I would scout around it first, before we make camp.” Yugiri spoke up.

“We shall scout the east side, then, and you and Gosetsu may take the west.” Thus decided, they split off, tracing separate paths.

“What a weird shape.” Fickle mused, looking at the hill. “Just sitting alone like that.” 

Lyse perked up.

“Oh, I know this one! It’s called a “butt”.”

Fickle snorted.

“No, really! Papalymo was telling me about rock formations-” Here her voice lost some of its fire, as it often did at his mention, but she barrelled on- “-It’s got steep sides and a little flat top. A butt!”

“What kind of butts have you been looking at?”

“Oh, none at all. It’s the clothes here, you know? Stiff as a board from the back.” A mischievous tone had seeped back into Lyse’s voice.

“Hiding the steep, pointy sides, I’d guess. They must be embarassed.”

“I’m sure they’re no worse than the butts back in Eorzea, Fickle, no reason to be judgemental.”

“Of course, of course. Hien, are you alright?”

The inheritor of Doma had turned away from them both, shaking silently, hand pressed to his mouth.

“Mm-hm.” He affirmed, stifling his laughter.

“Great. Now back home, those are some good butts. The Peaks of Gyr Abania… very pointy.”

“Best butts in the world, I’d say.”

“Not to demean all the butts of Rhalgr’s Reach-”

“-Especially in those Resistance uniforms-”

“Rock solid, they are. And made of rocks.”

One would be hard-pressed to miss the appraising gaze Lyse sent her travelling companion, one lingering on the curves not quite hidden by her armour- but the Warrior of Light was, as always, capable of miracles.

“Now, my Eorzean may not be entirely without fault-” Hien spoke up, laughter still lingering in the edges of his voice, “But I believe it is pronounced butte.”

[forerussake]

3, 6, 12, and 30 for ao3 wrapped? 🥰👀

Wheeee hi hideyyyyy <333 Thanks for the aaaaask!!! See 3 and 6 here! As for the rest:

12. How many WIPs do you have for next year?

HAHAHAHAH too many... let's see... I'm hoping to get maybe one or two of these done before New Years still, but who knows... The question doesn't ask me to list them, but I'm gonna anyway :P

That I'm actively working on:

Separate matters - QZGS, 5 things FSQ learns about WJX over the years and 1 thing he learns about himself.

Lucky numbers - QZGS, WJX and ZJL at Worlds.

As of yet untitled The First Shot fic, in which GYR becomes first a substitute middle school teacher, and then a substitute parent?? Maybe?? Idk yet where the plot is heading (it has too few words yet to have plot atm anyway) but the plot bunny DEFINITELY tried to steer me there yesterday and idk yet if I want to go hahah

a something wanting - Weilan Derivative, crossover between The Long Night and Lighting up the Stars in which Mo Sanmei and Jiang Yang learn to deal with fear, love and grief, not necessarily in that order.

Boundless - Guardian novel, horror-y multi-chapter casefic.

An as of yet untitled Zhubai RPF fic set after the FFDZ roadshow.

That I hope to return to soon:

Cats, Calligraphy and Conversation, or Operation Get to Know the Ghost Slayer - Guardian novel, pre-canon, exactly what it says on tin.

Unblinking, we turn to face the sun - Guardian drama, post-canon multi-chapter casefic.

There's SO MANY more WIPs, but these I can reasonably see getting finished sometime in the not too distant future... The rest? Oh god I wish... Muse give me the strength to finish ALL my WIPs!!!

30. Biggest surprise while writing this year?

Idk that I've really been surprised??? Maybe that In the end we'll share a tomb got as much response as it did? I was proud of it when it was done, but I didn't expect to get so many comments on it! Maybe also the decision to start writing boundless? I'm not good with horror fics, my brain is bad with them, but BY GOD will I write this thing. Luckily this time I can dictate what the scary stuff entails :)))) Maybe also the discovery of new fandoms (look at me writing for TFS!!!) and my return to a fandom that had slipped to the back drawers of my brain and I had already mourned the loss of (I'm writing QZGS fic again yay!)??? I haven't had any big revelations about my writing itself this year I think. Guardian Bingo taught me last year and again this year during the summer that I am a more prolific creator under time pressure hahah, but that is not a new realization. The past year has also taught me, not strictly writing-related, that I really do want to be a creative. That I want to make things for a living. Maybe next year will have to be about figuring out how to do that in this world and economy and with my background?

Thanks again for the ask my friend <333

[nosafeharbour]

Encyclopedia Eorzea III: Werlyt thoughts

How is this the second Werlyt thoughts/reactions post I've written in 2023. The Sorrow of Werlyt ended over 2 years ago

This is literally just Werlyt (so also Gaius and Raen) musings, I'll actually finish reading the rest of the book later...

It's beautiful. I've looked at this for 24 hours now

Holy shit, all this Werlyt lore… Gaius was viceroy of Werlyt for TWENTY YEARS?? In-game it sounded like he led the invasion during the epidemic 10 years ago, when you see him adopt the Raen kids, but otherwise wasn’t too deeply involved... but it was under Garlean control since the very start of the Empire? Gaius came into the picture midway through, after it briefly rebelled.

"A young Gaius van Baelsar" capturing Werlyt when he was 30... I guess him being legatus in his thirties makes complete sense with the timeframe of Ala Mhigo, but having it spelled out so plainly… wow

Thinking about the memory of Gaius in the Emerald Weapon trial being a 30 year old is so funny. You jumped-up little shit

It’s hard to pin down dates because everything is measured in years after Werlyt was taken, without it ever giving a starting date, but you can work backwards… the rebellion 30 years post conquering + 20 years of Gaius as viceroy + 5 years before ARR when Gaius begins advance on Eorzea in 1.0 = 55 years ago. The Empire is also 55 years old, which lines up:

Between 55 and 455 years ago: Werlyt is founded (happens after Gyr Abania is unified, but Werlyt is still described as “newly formed” when it was conquered, so definitely closer on the scale to 55)

55 years ago: Werlyt falls under the Empire

25 years ago: While the Empire is stretched thin conquering the Far East, the Werlytians stage a revolt and retake the province. Gaius comes in to quell it, and becomes viceroy after the previous one is killed (Gaius is 31 yrs old) (This is also the year Doma is conquered, so that also lines up)

20 years ago: Ala Mhigo is conquered, Gaius is also made viceroy there

15 years ago: Gaius’s fuckup at the Battle of Silvertear, and when he starts to lose favour in Garlemald

10 years ago: The epidemic, when the Raen kids are orphaned

5 years ago: Gaius leaves for the invasion of Eorzea (1.0), which eventually leaves Valens as viceroy after the events at the Praetorium

Did the epidemic happen under his watch? The flashback of him first reaching out to Allie and Alfonse makes sense to be 10 years ago, but the energy of that scene was very much “arriving to a situation” and not that… it was already under his jurisdiction…

I don’t know how I feel about the change of context here, at least in my understanding of it. It honestly feels a bit of a shock that Werlyt has been under the Empire for 50 years? They never stated any specific years, but I always read it as a decade or so? Long enough for it to become their new lives, short enough that people still remember life before. Gaius coming in to “save” Werlyt from the epidemic by way of conquering it was this mixed bag that ultimately did build towards his character thesis of “good intentions stuck in a bad system”. To think the epidemic technically happened under his watch is new and strange, I dunno. I need to replay it with this in mind to see if it checks out

Especially with that one post-Emerald scene where Gaius is all “Things were shit in MY legion? But I ran a tight ship” lmao… I know a lot of people take the piss out of that scene thinking that he was only discovering racism for the first time in his life (he literally has scenes in ARR about stamping out discrimination in his Legion), but I always read it as his ego meaning he believed that his influence and word over his Legion was immovable, that nobody would behave that way because he told them not to. It complements his view that he always thought he was doing good, but not yet having had the blinders of being a cog in the fascist system removed. These things will always still happen. It would be good to see that scene again, with all this context of the epidemic happening during his time as viceroy... If the times are all correct, I feel like him being stretched thin between Ala Mhigo and Werlyt is a part of this

The “all the good Gaius had achieved” line in regards to him building up Werlyt as viceroy makes me wince, while I do like engaging with Gaius having good intentions, just talking about all the good he did and not the fact it was still a conquered territory + the epidemic? Even I’m balking at that, and I’m a Gaius enjoyer. Slow down here. I’m looking at the artwork of destroyed Werlyt from when he re-conquered it right below this paragraph LOL

The Raen of Werlyt migrating there directly from Corvos, to the point that their religion and food is still Corvosi-inspired... seeing it spelled out so plainly after this incredibly fleeting and brief image from FanFest... wow. I get to feel even more insane over Corvos, now

Really curious about the timeframes, still. If Raen only arrived in Werlyt a little over 50 years ago, in one fell swoop they have turned Albi's Welytian grandmother into a Corvosi grandmother

Werlyt religion being polytheistic, seemingly a fusion of the Twelve and Corvosi religion… I NEED TO KNOW ABOUT CORVOS…

I love the kind of demographics you get from these books:

Werlyt currently undergoing negotiations with Ul’dah for ceruleum, so they can continue mining… Gaius overseeing said negotiations in Ul’dah, Ul’dah is Albi’s turf... Thinking about them in Ul’dah together. It’s actually so fun thinking about Gaius visiting so many Eorzean city states as an envoy. He’s helping, but also he’s keeping his god damn head down (or in a chicken suit)

Werlyt’s main food being stewed dishes is just another thing that lines up with what I imagined, mostly just because it’s what I figured Albi and Gaius would eat a lot (both from cold places, they both know how to cook simple stuff but aren’t master culinarians)

Cheese being a major export to Garlemald, and there being a major cheese presence in Garlemald already (via Ovibos milk, so native to Garlemald itself and not all imported)... cheese lore

There’s way too much dairy talk in here, “dairy enthusiasts” pleeeeasseeee stop making my favourite place like this when I’m lactose intolerent

After The Sorrow of Werlyt says that Terncliff is too high above the ocean to fish, but then Tataru’s Grand Endeavour had orphans collecting seashells, I was so confused on whether or not Werlyt has beaches or not. I’m glad they clarified that there are a few harbours amongst the cliffs.

All of this geography and agriculture lore is neat just in that it’s showing that Werlyt is really quite big. You never really get a full sense of scale in-game, between Terncliff and what we see of the main Werlyt town (?) during Emerald trial/post-Diamond

We have three Werlytian surnames – Hunte, Souther, and Horne!

Severa Souther and Valdeaulin Ganathain… I care them. Severa is only 23, bless her heart. Valdeaulin being 48 is just exactly what I’d assumed/hoped.

The leader of the interim government is Talbot Hunte. Have we seen him..? I’m picturing the Revolutionary Commander in my mind when I read that, but I don't think he was ever named

All of these Werlytian names (surnames, and Hyur first names) have a Germanic feel, while Severa and the Raen kids have Latin-based names. The Raen in Werlyt originate from Corvos, so I am hoping it’s because they are sticking to Corvos being the root of the Latin-based Garlean language, as it should be? Severa had a Garlean parent? Hmm

Bereft at the casual mention of “the bravery of the Baelsars and the Warrior of Light”… THE BAELSARS

Kind of sad they straight-coded Milisandia by giving her a crush on Alfonse. That lizard was one of the gay ones :/

I think Gaius is possibly the first character to get a second Encyclopedia Eorzea entry. I was hoping he would, but had low expectations bc they've never given any other recurring characters new entries... but they did this, for me

“... and though his quest for vengeance would claim the masks of Altima and Deudalaphon, the hunt for Ascians was quickly set aside when he learned of the Empire’s plans to produce the noxious weapon Black Rose” – Black Rose is important and thematic, but seeing the Ascian plot dropped so abruptly even in this book is breaking my heart all over again LMAO

So extremely cool that there are 6 pages just about the Ultima Weapons!! Including the Allagan iterations, the original ARR project, and the second project during Werlyt

I do like the line “According to the testimony of Gaius Baelsar…” in the section about the Ultima Weapon, about how Lahabrea guided them to it. Gaius sat and gave testimony to the Alliance about a lot of things, huh!

I also like the confirmation that Proto-Ultima is the last iteration the Allagans made, and that all the visuals of the Ultima Weapon are magitek and Garlean-made. It’s hard to tell, since the earlier Ultima Warrior has them too, but the fact that Ultima Weapon’s horns look like Gaius’s helmet means it was done on purpose… kinda moe. Nero trying to impress his legatus

Interesting that the Heart of Sabik is mentioned so clearly, and that Valens knew he couldn’t recreate it… but still acquired a piece of Ivalician auracite to base the Oversoul system on. Reading this all post-Pandaemonium is enlightening

Seems that the “third eye” looking chestpiece on the cuirass of legatus armour is the synthetic auracite they used for the same purpose as soul crystals! Having a visual on that is neat

Another extremely obvious hint that Nero made the second (red) G-Savior, which only makes Gaius not finding out he was still alive until Tataru’s Grand Endeavour so funny/weird. Nero literally must have been in Werlyt!! The Ironworks were talking about him constantly! Gaius, are you stupid! (yeah)

[sasslett]

2 for 1 special!

Someone my muse is indebted to & Someone who owes my muse a debt

2 for 1, now that's a bargain!

Someone my muse is indebted to: Buscarron. He took her in and offered her a job and a home when she had nothing. Without that... I'm not sure where her life would have taken her. Away from the South Shroud, for sure. Perhaps to Gridania, to learn a trade, or with her fellow refugees back to Gyr Abania to fight for the cause.

Someone who owes my muse a debt: All of Eitherys? That's a good question... It's hard to figure out exactly who, or just one, with all she's done in the MSQ... I'm probably going to think of a perfect answer at some point later but for now... um... Hydaelyn?

[arty-ffxiv]

Welcome to my FFXIV sideblog! It’s lovely to have you here; my name is Laurel, but you can also call me Arty ✧.*

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A Gyr Abanian native born and raised, K'eshhe's early childhood was spent roaming the remote mesas of her homeland with her mother. When the Ala Mhigan city-state fell into chaos and the Garlean invasion began, K'eshhe and her mother fled for Ul'dah.

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[minarcana]

[Gaius encountering Valdeaulin while escaping the Praetorium]

[fun fact so im rewriting werlyt to be like, a thing that makes sense and valdeaulin is like. bestie. you dont make sense. love yourself. im sending him to a nice home in gyr abania where he doesnt spend like 5 years following a guy he hates on that guys Quest To Die In The Desert. but anyways. heres the canon shit]

send a canon scene and ill write my muse's feelings // accepting!

he had been, gaius was fairly positive, supposed to die. it would have been much easier if he had died, he feels like he's pretty damn close to dying, and it tracks if the job simply completes itself. he doesn't have anything else to do, clearly.

considering 'everything else' is on fire around him and there's no way in any hell he's going to be able to go back. realistically, with this disappointment enough to probably lose him citizenship; literally, with the explosion and fire certainly killing everyone else in the Castrum; and finally emotionally, with the knowledge that this was all some stupid-ass step in a shitty wizard's shitty game.

but since despite all reason to the contrary his heart still manages to beat, here he fucking is. alive. and he'll be damned if he's just going to let lahabrea win without even trying. so gaius hauls himself to his feet and takes inventory as he limps off towards... he doesn't know, towards whatever isn't on fire. ribs are broken, something's wrong with his back that he doesn't have the spare thought to figure out aside from it moving poorly, he can't feel his arm-- which is probably for the best considering the blood soaking through his cracked armour.

it's not great. it would be so, so much easier if he were dead. fucking lahabrea. he hopes the champion flattens him. he slogs off, losing all ability to plan anything more than where to direct his feet. there should be an accessible riverside within walking distance, and that's a destination. he can focus on that.

he focuses enough on the mechanical act of shambling that he doesn't even notice he's been found and stopped until the staff directly thuds into his chest. gaius looks at it first, gaze refocusing, then up at who's holding it. eorzean, of course, duskwight, tattooed. unfamiliar. that's to be expected. he's dressed like smallfolk rather than wood wailer, aside from the mage's staff.

huh.

maybe he will be dying tonight.

gaius doesn't have the spare energy to react, which seems to give the elezen pause on what otherwise would probably be a quick murder. there's still anger in his eyes, but less of the intent to kill.

damn.

"running back to your masters, are you?" he asks.

"what masters?" it's almost a joke. he coughs a laugh. "i'm dead. dead are free agents." may as well be.

"yet here you are." the elezen draws back the staff and hits him firmly with it. hurts like a bitch, but it's just one of many aches at this point. gaius shifts, but doesn't fall. not to prove a point. "alive."

he just doesn't have the spare thought to do anything other than keep breathing. "going to kill me?" valid question.

"you killed my family."

"i did." he doesn't remember that. it would be impossible to remember one of however many people he's killed. eorzeans are savages are helpless are in the way of the future are to be killed. saying 'sorry' would be a lie and be demeaning. all he has is acknowledgement.

despite having killed this mans family he is still, with a feeling of increasing surreality, alive. the defiance of expectations and the blood loss and the everything loss make him feel rather distant from the whole thing.

so what if he dies here. no loss.

the mage still has not cast whatever spell completes gaius's fate of dying in a fire, however mistimed it might be. gaius holds his gaze, expressionless. there's the faint dripping sound of blood hitting the leaves beneath their feet. whatever it is, maybe the idea of putting gaius out of his misery or maybe killing someone who is utterly bereft of the choice to resist doesn't seem to sit well with this elezen. cowardly of him. he exhales slowly. "if you're a free agent. if i don't kill you, where do you go?"

that makes gaius think. the only ting he had in mind was the river, where he can at least wash off the smoke and blood and see what all is ruined, and then maybe lie in the water and not-die.

not an acceptable answer. he closes his eyes and lahabrea's form appears in his thoughts. "know you anything of ascians?"

"no."

simple answer, then. "mages who gifted garlemald the equipment to destroy," he gestures with his good arm back towards the orange glow of fire and the not-distant-enough sound of breaking metal, "all of that in a moment. without their 'aid'," word spat, "this would have been beyond me. or any other."

"and?"

"i think i'd like to kill them."

the elezen shifts his gaze from gaius to the wreckage of praetorium, then back. "for your empire?"

"for me. there won't be an empire or an eorzea if they whisper at enough militaries." not for the empire. for garlemald. there's a difference.

the empire let lahabrea have that bomb. garlemald is a concept of a country with modern rule and that does not drain dry the land.

he does still believe in that. the elezen lowers his staff and returns it to his back. "i'll take you out of here, ghost, and then you'll tell me about ascians. if you leave my sight or even look like you're going back to garlemald, i'll kill you."

sure. what's the threat of death doing to do. gaius nods. may as well follow. and it is, now that he thinks about it, a reasonable goal. may as well enlist a mage if he's going to kill worse mages.

he resumes limping along, this time following an elezen who barely slows to accomodate gaius's untrained and injured steps.

if he dies, he dies.

[lcstkey]

@diademreigned sent AFRAID for a scene from my muse's past in which they were scared / under threat Glimpses of the Past Prompts

Trigger Warnings: injury, starvation, blood, torture mention, experimentation, abuse, death

As soon as the young keybearer stepped on Gyr Abanian soil, it took little time for the Garleans to find her. While they had their numbers, Selena managed to take down a good number of them with her keyblade and magic, with some assistance from Fang and Umbra. But eventually, they do overwhelm them. Both wolves are forced to be dismissed and leave her behind.

They smashed her face against the earth and confiscated her bag. The Garleans would have killed her then and there, but the keyblade's power caught their attention.

They failed to claim her keyblade. Immediately after their curious captain picked it up, the weapon disappeared in a burst of silver flame. Selena refused to talk about the keyblade no matter how black and blue they had beaten her.

To find out the secrets of the keyblade's power, the Garleans snapped on irons to both arms behind her back and dragged her toward the border toward a castrum cradled in the mountains. On the third day of their trek, the Garleans snapped more irons to her ankles after a poorly planned escape attempt. They refused her food for that day and broke her ribs for it.

Once they reached the castrum, she was tossed into a lonely cell in full view of numerous other Ala Mhigan conscripts across the cell. Her irons were never removed; forcing her to eat her meals like a savage dog and earning the mockery of the guards who passed by.

The girl had no method of escape, these shackles somehow prevented her from utilizing her magic. She could not summon a Corridor to Darkness even when she wanted to. She tried. She tried but only ended up hurting herself with excruciating migraines and a constant nosebleed.

The soldiers believed that they could break her and get her to talk about the keyblade in a week. Who did she commission it from? Was it someone from the Resistance? Which sort of metal and alloys was it melded and created from? How did she call it to herself and make it disappear? Questions Selena did not know the answers to these and wouldn't give. She spat on them more than once.

It has been a moon and she has kept her silence. Over the days, Selena would watch each of them disappear, never to return. Giving up on the keyblade's secrets, it was finally decided it was her turn to disappear. If they couldn't have it, no one would.

Selena tried to keep a brave face as the soldiers dragged her toward their laboratory, some of their tables glittering with mountainous mounds of aether crystals. But her face broke when she finally saw what became of the prisoners who disappeared from the cell across her.

Opposing the mounds of aether crystals, there is a pile of rotting corpses with nary a wound on their flesh waiting to be wheelbarrowed and cremated. The researchers there wore what appeared to be masks, vastly different from the helms the soldiers wore, for which use she could not discern. There is a corpse in an otherwise empty, insulated glass chamber.

What in the world is happening here? Her ears are ringing and her pale eyes widen from the shock. Her body shaking and breathing becoming shallow and ragged from the fear, she fails to hear what the soldiers say to the researchers.

Meanwhile, Selena watches another researcher push another prisoner into the chamber and shutting the door. She sees the prisoner begin to panic, looking around wildly and smashing their fist against the chamber wall, begging to be freed. Her heart stops as they suddenly fall, eyes rolling back into their heads, like a puppet freed from their strings.

She hears the song. The wordless lullaby, one that once comforted and cradled, Selena once heard so long ago as a child. She finds herself humming it to calm herself but is struck down by one of the soldiers beside her who barks at her to keep silent. The girl loses her balance and hits her head on the corner of the table.

As she sat upright on her knees, the air grew colder and tense as the crystals began to glow blindly. Machines beep sharply and the sound screeches inside her head. Blood and tears dripped to the ground. Her silver eyes shone bright. Her shackles froze and broke apart. Then came the whispered prayer in which all hell broke loose.

"Deliora please help us..."

Her vision is whited out. Silver flames, burning cold, consumed the girl and everyone and everything in that laboratory. The mournful song fills the air of the castrum, putting all who hear it to sleep.

Selena Wolfsong had been embraced by the goddess of their dead Star and became a primal born of horror.

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

Prompt #26: Last

Artoiel knew that he should probably protest. Plead. And if all else failed--he could call for his men, he could call for the anti-magic irons. A Dominant of Halone had never left Ishgard, never left Corethas before. When word got out, there would be actual rioting in the city streets...

But after the events of the last week, Artoiel couldn't blame Augustine and Mathye for packing their things. Couldn't blame them for wanting to seek freedom. Even with Nidhogg's shade defeated, and the dragon-broods of Dravania willing to try peace...there were still those in Ishgard who just would not let things be. Peace in his home was not going to be bought by spoken word as was Aymeric's wish, but with blood and painful lessons.

"Where will you go?" He asked. Augustine and Mathye shared a look, with Mathye reaching into a pocket and holding up a folded piece of paper.

"This got delivered via post-moogle last night." He said. "A formal invitation for us to join the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. Which we're accepting."

"Ishgard sending her Dominants to aid in the security of the realm will buy the Lord High Commander a great deal of political capital." Augustine continued. "The Archbishop aside...van Baelsar came too close to his goal. The Ultima Weapon would have destroyed the armies of Limsa, U'ldah and Gridania."

"Not to mention that little shite Teledji's scheming would have put all three nations under his thumb faster." Mathye added. "We were next on the list." Artoiel exhaled, nodding.

"War with the Empire, then?" He asked. "Where?"

"Don't know yet. Sebastian and Reinhardt's Eikons are whispering for Gyr Albania to be watched, though." Augustine frowned, remembering the letter Reinhardt had sent.

The Ala Mhigan refugees have been mobilizing. They're gathering around a leader who calls themselves the Silver Griffin. They've even sent out Eikon-hunters after us--but you can guess how well that's been going over.

"Gyr Albania." Artoiel mused. "I heard that the crown prince of Garlemald took Gaius's place as viceroy. Send word of what you find, will you?" At the surprised looks on the Bishop brothers' faces, the new Count of House Fortemps chuckled.

"I'm not above shamelessly using any advantage I can possibly get to help vault the House into a better position to offer you--and the Scions support." He said.

[blindingspark]

Feather Light

Meeting in the late hours in a place between the Gyr Abanian peaks and the Empire-controlled capital of Ala Mhigo, the Warrior of Light and crown prince find themselves indulging in learning more of their adversary and companion- drawing back layers only permitted to be seen by the other.

Rating: General

Pairing: Zenos/WoL

Notes: In this house we go full throttle with touch-starved!Zenos

The arrangement had started curiously at best after their fateful second meeting across the sea in Doma; sneaking away in the dead of night beneath the nose of the Resistance with the next in line for Garlemalds throne to share in his company, even if the Crown Prince viewed the role itself as nothing more than a title and an obligation.

As the days passed, however, the prince and the 'Warrior of Light' - sworn enemies on paper and in battle- had begun to linger in the others presence more often as they learned more of the other beyond their titles, beyond the facades they wore in front of their peers; simply two souls with more restlessness than they could openly admit.

A small abandoned town within the Gyr Abanian peaks had become a secret meeting place for them, and had somehow managed to remain free from intrusions on either side of the conflict; the matter of being discovered was not an if, but a when, which hung over the two like a thick fog; oft being pushed aside with another bout of reassurances that the next time would be the last meeting, as weakly said as someone who hesitated letting another go...

"Do you know this one?" Zenos' voice, calm as a rolling wave, carried through the air in the worn church they had explored this night and to the au ra's ear, pulling their attention away from the musty old books they had begun to lightly skim through. He stood with his back to them, glancing over his shoulder before motioning with a nod of the head to the statue looming at the far end.

Their brow furrowed, walking up the aisle as they tried deciphering the figure beneath the poor lighting and untended overgrowth,

"Hmmh… Nymeia perhaps," they muttered, now standing beside the garlean prince, mirroring his stance and crossing their arms, "Watcher of the celestial bodies, goddess of fate…"

They looked sidelong up at their confidant, "I thought you would have known about them, purely for the sake of knowledge."

He hummed faintly, "Studied, aye… but I've no need to remember their every detail."

The mage nodded, their gaze lingering on him as he seemed… calm, a genuine calm that was unlike his steady, unmoving coldness upon the battlefield.

“Which of these deities have you sworn yourself to, I wonder,” he thought aloud, shifting his weight from one boot to the other, “Perhaps by true belief, or happenstance from your upbringing?”

“Curious of my past now, are you?” they mused, catching a glimpse of a smirk from him in their peripheral and running their fingers through their hair, stopping mid-stroke as they pondered, “I grew up in a household that revered the kami and one of the Twelve, though it was more out of familiarity than unquestioning worship, especially after we had left the Steppe. I had taken to studying the Twelve as a whole during my days in Kugane, however, and admittedly still only have general knowledge of them… I find them rather fascinating, regardless.”

He uttered a grunt of acknowledgement as he listened, prompting Auri to tilt their head as they looked at him and gave a teasing grin, “No biting remark about my ‘savage’ beliefs or that of my family?”

“Not this time, I’m afraid,” he chuckled dryly, “You and I grew up in vastly different worlds, though that is certainly unquestionable…" a pause, "I wonder what your family would say.”

Their brow perked, “About you?”

He remained silent, allowing the mage to finish ruffling their hair this time, “I’m sure they would be stunned, to say the least. We largely kept out of the way of the Empire, so learning their child has grown close with the current Crown Prince would certainly throw them for a loop.”

This coaxed a softened sound from him, “Indeed.”

“May I…” they began after a moment of thought, weighing where they stood and wondering if they were about to tread into precarious territory… “May as I ask about yours?”

A heavy silence followed, and Zenos’ gaze fell to the base of the statue; the impression that it had been some time since he had recalled such details was not lost to the au ra,

“What is there to say…? I scarce knew my dame- she grew ill and passed not long after I was born, and my sire… His Radiance, seldom acknowledged me. It was oft months between when I would see him, leaving me to learn, to train, to exist surrounded by caretakers who had no more humanity in their actions than automatons. Going about their days in idle routine and appeasing my father simply by keeping me alive and tended to.”

A chill slowly crept through Auri as they listened, watching his unbothered posture and expression as he spoke of his childhood- the myriad of emotions stewing within themselves at learning such a personal part of their companions past… slowly piecing together how Zenos grew into the man that stood before them now.

Subconsciously, their hand reached out and lightly touched his forearm, seeing his brows furrow and light blue eyes lock onto their hand- which they retrieved immediately,

“I- I’m sorry I should have…” they exhaled through their nose, craning their neck to look up at him directly, “Zenos, are you alright with touch?”

For once, they could not rightly place the look in his eyes as he lingered on them. He often shifted between staring through someone to a too-intense focus, something which still startled Auri on occasion, yet this time it seemed his mind had turned in a way he had not needed it to for some time.

Zenos yae Galvus, Crown Prince of Garlemald, terror of Ala Mihgo… lost for words.

Shifting his weight, he turned slightly to face them, reaching out to take one of their hands and after a brief moment of consideration pulled it to press their palm to his chest, his eyes moving up to meet theirs with an unusual look yet the message was clear enough to discern: action where words could not suffice.

They waited for his small nod then let their gaze fall to where their hand had been placed, splaying their fingers and feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath their palm. The mage inhaled slowly, stepping closer and reaching with their free hand to rest on his other arm, their thumb moving in a small, soothing back and forth motion as they tested the waters.

He was tense.

Their attention lifted to him and offered a look of sincerity, “If you want me to stop, tell me… please-”

“Don’t.” his voice was sharp, though not with anger as they had worried, “...Don’t.”

Nodding slowly, the mage lingered then began their gentle traversal as the garlean eased his hold over the hand on his chest, slowly running their hand along his chest and down his other arm, eventually reaching his hands; calloused yet slender, the topography of his hands intrigued them- and not merely for the fact their own were dwarfed by his if they were to compare.

They focused on one hand- his right, noting the slight padding on the palm of his fingerless gloves, briefly remembering the tale he had regaled to them about the training he had experienced in his younger days, how he had cut down his instructor who had no qualms about his goal to kill the princeling, and only succeeding after embedding a shard of crystal into his palm to force a moment of aetheric manipulation- a feat otherwise unachievable to a born Garlean. Auri's expression was somber as they recalled, holding the scarred hand as best they could and pulling it close to their face, placing a soft kiss on his palm; the sound of him letting out a trembling breath gave them pause,

“I can stop-”

He shook his head, the look in his eyes unlike anything the mage had seen in him before.

They placed another kiss on his palm after a pause, pulling their head back finding themselves tracing the tendon lines on his wrist and along his forearm, moving closer as they returned their attention to lightly grazing his frame with their hands, testing the waters and watching for signs of discomfort,

“I take it you've never been touched like this…?” they inquired gently, hands pausing in their journey and settling on his upper arms, the look on his face speaking volumes more than his words,

“No… no I have not.” his voice was strangely quiet, not carrying the usual rolling, poetic tone he often spoke with.

Another nod from the mage- deciding against pressing for more answers- and they resumed. Their fingers delicately traced the lines of his shoulders, finding themselves standing on tiptoes to reach… a streak of bravery made them pull slightly, watching him lean down at their coaxing and allowing them to explore further; Auri offered a smile, one hand now reaching his jaw and resting there while the other moved further and brushed the strands of long blond out of his face and behind his ear.

His gaze fixated entirely on them, breath slow and deep as he leaned into their touch.

Their fingers slowly brushed through his hair, feeling the silklike strands as they combed and gingerly massaged his scalp with their claws, his breathing hitching at their gentle motions. Their other hand carefully mapped out his face, taking in every detail from the height of his cheekbone to the curve of his ear, eventually brushing their thumb along his cheek and startling them from their own trance upon feeling him reach up to grasp their hand before they could pull away, turning his head to return the gesture from earlier: lips pressing to their palm and lingering.

The mage held their breath as they watched, waiting to see what he would do next as their mind steadily turned. He sighed at last, quiet as he loosened his hold on their hand and moved his head down a touch, his mouth now grazed the tendon lines of their wrist, scarcely any pressure applied,

"Now, now, your highness," the au ra gently chided as they watched him, "Bite me or draw my blood otherwise and I'll be most cross with you."

A faint smile curled his lips along with a quietly amused chuckle, "Nay, such would be poor sport from me, my friend…"

The prince lingered, his smirk fading just as quickly as it had appeared, and even through his hooded gaze the mage could see his mind turning through the gentle touch upon his cheek,

"I cannot recall the last time I felt something such as this. All my life I have gone about my days the same as the last; the morrow was merely routine outside of the occasions when I needed to deign the company of citizenry or high society with my presence. Seldom did I desire or acknowledge the aid of another even before I tended to my own wounds from training or combat, I had the knowledge and oft utilized it…"

Auri remained focused on the garlean, listening as he seemed to… wander through his thoughts and gave voice to them. It was not uncommon for him to be quiet during their evenings together, something they had assumed came to be as he only truly spoke when needed, his words purposeful through the steady drawl and flowered phrasing… such an observation made his current state all the more unusual to them,

"Curious…" he muttered after a lengthy bout of silence, earning a puzzled look from Auri even as they remained quiet, watching his steady gaze lift slightly to stare at the wall on the far end of the aged building, "Forgive me, this feeling is rather strange. I find myself hesitating, for reasons I know naught as to why, and yet..."

The au ra's brows knit together further as they listened, his words hardly carrying the steadiness and certainty they had grown accustomed to in their short time together; listening instead to the quiet, near-aimless nature of his thoughts as they were given voice,

"And yet, I find myself unable to draw back from this feeling- this sensation, as though once I let go you may simply…" Zenos trailed off again, his eyes closing again and pressing their hand more firmly to his cheek, "The thought of no longer feeling your hand upon me should I let go… it aches within me- and yet I cannot place why…"

Auri's eyes widened as they felt the crown prince tense once more, almost… trembling? A sensation so faint they doubted it came from him, yet they reached with their other hand to cup his remaining cheek, their thumbs moving in steady, soothing motions as they noted his tensing and relaxing shoulders with each hastened breath,

"Steady… steady," They uttered, never wavering in their gestures while they attempted to soothe and granting a soft smile, "I'll not vanish should I let go, I promise… so long as you would have me, I may have you as well."

They had hardly noticed the way Zenos settled upon his knees before them until they felt his remaining arm slither around their middle to pull them close, holding the au ra a bit too tight against his frame- Auri let out a small huff at the gesture and it's attempted tenderness, adjusting their own arm to rest around his shoulders for some relief; feeling him take notice and easing his hold just a touch. From this new angle, the au ra uttered a faint sigh and tentatively rested their head atop his, their thoughts turning at how their companion had revealed how starved for touch he was… perhaps how deeply he had craved painless acts of connection such as this and yet never had the thought itself cross his mind- not that they could blame him, knowing now how he had simply survived in idleness and tedium in his twenty-six summers upon this star.

"Speak your mind, if you wish," Auri muttered, feeling his grasp on their hand ease at last as he turned and rested his head upon the juncture between their neck and shoulder, a faint- if not somber- smile crossed the mage's lips at the adjustment and sighed, "Or not… you may let your actions speak for you."

A grunt of acknowledgement was all the crown prince offered in return, his other arm joining the first in holding the au ra to him and slowly easing the stark tension within his body.

They knew naught how much time passed as they embraced, an instant or an eternity simply felt the same, before the garlean at last loosened his hold and looked up to meet the warrior of light's eyes. His expression was languid as they had grown accustomed to, though his gaze carried a glimmer of… yearning, perhaps? The observation remained as such within the au ra as they reached to gently comb their fingers through his hair once more, speaking at a near-whisper,

"We should depart soon… unfortunately, time is not our companion and the company we keep will surely come looking soon enough."

His eyes closed, sighing and leaning into their touch again before he loosened his hold and stood, watching Auri pull back their hands once more- resting them on his chest instead,

"Aye, and we must play our parts a little while longer." Zenos replied, his usual drawl slipping into place once more even as his tone did not carry the usual commanding air. They soon stepped away from the other to find their respective traveling attire, a more comfortable silence filling the building they had hidden themselves in before they made ready to part ways.

The blond finished fastening one last buckle on his traveling armor when the feeling of a smaller clawed hand on his arm drew his attention, looking over to the source and seeing the rather sheepish expression on Auri's face,

"Thank you for… for telling me." They said, watching the prince linger briefly before nodding once,

"You have shown me your own scars and told your tales, telling you of my own is a fair reward."

Another smile from the mage was given, feeling the steady pat on his gauntlet before watching them turn and begin their venture, giving him one last look over their shoulder,

" 'Til we meet again…?"

"As always."

[lookbluesoup]

🌼 Would my muse prefer a big wedding or a small wedding?

Lyrha and X'rhun have a small wedding, on a cliffside overlooking the sea in Gyr Abania.

Marriage isn't of particular importance in Sunseeker culture, but they're both well-traveled people who don't live in traditional Seeker tribes anymore, anyway, and there was something a little (a lot) romantic in the idea of making a pledge to one another officially, in front of all their closest friends.

Lyrha didn't realize how much it would mean to her until X'rhun proposed the idea

[onepunchcatboi]

The Warrior of Light

ARR caps ✦ HW caps ✦ SB caps ✦ ShB caps ✦ EW caps ✦ DT caps

Slowly but surely working on a little website for this boi that I will later link on here, but I thought it'd be good to do a quick landing page-post for him with some fast facts lol

Name: Zorri'to "Kima" Vossu Age: 33 (as of Endwalker) Nameday: July 19 Gender: Non-binary Orientation: Demisexual Height: 5'1" Weight: 120 lbs Alignment: Neutral Good Ancient Name: Nike

Melee: Monk, Ninja, Dragoon Ranged: Dancer Caster: Red Mage Tank: Gunbreaker Healer: Astrologian

Theme Song: Eye of the Storm- ARR-SB Eye of the Storm Reborn- ShB-EW

Relationships Thancred Waters: Brother why art thou like this (affectionate) Urianger Augurelt: Beautiful nerd friend Lyse Hext: Same-brain sister Papalymo Totolymo: The Professor Minlifia Warde: Cinnamon roll too good for this world (cry) Tataru Taru: Den mother of 1000 skills Alphinaud Leveilleur: My incredible son Alisaie Leveilleur: My unbeatable daughter Krile Baldastion: Lovely aunt Estinian Wyrmblood: Adventure buddy G'Raha Tia: Idiot little bother (affectionate)

Romantic Relationship: Y'Shtola Rhul: The Queen, my muse, my mirror, we are opposites, we are the same, I would travel the ends of the world with you, the world may be burning but we will burn brighter to save it

Personality In addition to the living cryptid factor that comes with being the Warrior of Light, Kima is an interesting puzzle when getting to know him. He’s quiet and contemplative but will converse easily enough if you find the right subject. His speech is forward and sometimes insightful, he also cusses like it's a first language. He's never owned more than three books, he can tell you the entire history of the Gyr Abania. He will capture bugs to return outside, he will tear a mans throat out.

While a bit rough around the edges, at his heart he is a kind and sincere person, given to honesty and altruism. He is smart and skilled in trades, but not academically educated. Most of his understanding of aether and the like is through the study of martial arts, so he might not have the right words, but he makes the right connections. He has a fascination with new things and history and loves to learn and explore. He also adores animals and nature, and somewhat frequently runs off on his own to meditate somewhere nice.

He walks with a quiet confidence that comes from both victories and defeats and does not make proud boasts but rather reserved threats, making promises based on past accomplishments. Above all he believes in people and their capacity for good and will try to reach his foe for a peaceful solution if he thinks it possible.

Short History He began life as the second son of a Keeper tribe in the Fringes of Gyr Abania, living on the outskirts of a small village doing their best to keep out of the sight of the Garleans. Like most he knew not his father and for a time his older brother was the only other male of the tribe. Even when not out hunting he was often out exploring, interested particularly in the ruins of the Monk temples left behind after the Mad King’s reign and left to further gather dust after Garlean occupation.

As all Keeper men do, when he came of age he gave to wandering. Eventually he found his way to Ul'dah, were he sought out the Pugilists Guild and came under Hamond’s tutelage. His involvement in Ul’dahs affairs put him in contact with Thancred, and soon after his duties as envoy to General Raubhan, he joined the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. Later he returned to to serve the General as well, becoming an Immortal Flame to further the Scions goals. Upon his defeat of the primal Ifrit, he began to be known as the Warrior of Light, the Savior of Eorzea, and many more.

Character Creation Notes

While he began as a sort of self insert/what if Bruce Lee but if cat-boy character, eventually he became his own personality.

Both my girlfriend and I started the game together and somehow flipped the naming conventions of the sun and moon miqote lol So he was originally name Z'orri, and its in a lot of the older screenshots.

For a long time he was renamed to Zorri'to Viryu. But after a while I had realized this meant that his true name was "Viryu", which just never seemed to suit him. Finally after long deliberation he got his final name change lol

[thescions]

angelica :   where does your muse draw inspiration in life ?   what motivates them ? — for Lyse !

Botanical Headcanons | Accepting

angelica :   where does your muse draw inspiration in life ?  what motivates them?

For the longest time, Lyse's main source of inspiration in life was her older sister. While she loved and respected her father as a hero, Yda was around to teach and take care of her far more often; plus, she was equally instrumental (at least in her little sister's eyes) in helping the Resistance. Yda was everything to Lyse, who could barely remember what pre-Garlean Ala Mhigo looked like, as she was only five when it fell.

When news came of Yda's death, Lyse took it harder than anyone else. She refused to accept it, refused to allow her sister's fire to burn out so soon. After arguing and insisting and pleading with Papalymo, her grief finally convinced him to assist in her taking up the mantle of her older sister -- but at a price. Lyse actively chose that Yda would live on, which inadvertently meant that Lyse herself would have to stop living. At least in that moment.

Taking on Yda's attitude towards life as inspiration was not all bad: Lyse already shared her values of standing up for those who needed it, fearsome courage, and overall being a good person. As years passed, however, Lyse couldn't quite bring Yda to age and grow beyond what lingered in her hazy memories. Sometimes she would exagerrate Yda's ditzy habits or other mannerisms to the point of near-caricature, which drew out some genuine frustration in Papalymo over seeing his dear friend be imitated in such a way. Despite this, he never quite knew how to ask her to stop. He didn't even know if he had a right to.

At present, as Lyse learns to grow into her own and let her sister rest in her memory, she finds herself motivated by the peoples of Gyr Abania. Their resilience and traditions and values -- she wants desperately to learn and enthrall herself in the culture she had missed out on. She wants to continue to protect Gyr Abania and other places like it, so that no one ever has to suffer a loss of their home ever again.

She is also endlessly inspired by the stories and triumphs of the Warrior of Light.

[crystalmarred]

[HURT] -  for receiver’s muse to be half-conscious after an injury, and not able to keep their nightmares separate from reality.-Hiroto to any of your boys that you’d like to use <3

MEME ( accepting! ) ⇢ @oathofpromises

Something had hit him, careened straight into his side and sent him reeling, the air pushed from his lungs by whatever had crashed into him from his blind spot. He'd gotten hurt, Liun'a was sure. He could remember the sharp sting of... something. A blade or the jagged edge of a rock when he fell, he couldn't quite recall.

Had he passed out? Probably, he couldn't recall. All he knew was the hands on him. He was groggy, tired, exhausted in a way he couldn't quite remember being before—not for the longest of time.

For a moment, he thought he'd imagined the hands, the pull of his body... somewhere... Away from whatever fight he'd been engaged in by request of the Velodyna Gatekeepers, though he couldn't seem to recall what he'd been fighting and— ow, ow, ow, his head hurt when he tried, when he considered it too long, when he sought out an answer that wouldn't come to him.

For a moment, the hands on him were gone. Only a moment before they were back, on his head—ow, why did that hurt—with a strange, wet stickiness that he didn't want to understand. Or... Was the stickiness on him...?

The thought was there, then it was gone just as quickly, dashed by the way the fingers ebbed close, too close, to the eyepatch that covered the gaping hole that was his right eye.

A flash of a memory, a nightmare that haunted his sleep even still. A hand on his jaw, another holding his eye open. Don't, don't, don't, please, not that—

"Don't touch me!"

A scream, voice shaking, wobbling, terrified. Help me, please, don't—

Arms and legs drew in before he threw them outward, pushing off the Garlean in a way only a Miqo'te could. He couldn't remember why there was a Garlean there. Was there a Garlean there? Why would they be... Wasn't Ala Mhigo...

It— It didn't matter, it didn't, he was going to be hurt again, they were doing it again, just like they always promised—

Liun'a scrambled to his feet, leapt up so quickly that his vision swam, his stomach lurched, the air on his usually covered eye where he'd pushed the stranger so abruptly they'd accidentally taken his eye patch with them. He didn't notice, noticed little else besides the flash of pink on the beige backdrop of Gyr Abanian sands.

Lost in a fog that settled over him and not the land they stood on, he stumbled backwards, struggled to regain his footing before he fell back. Luck prevailed for a moment, his arm catching his fall in the familiar desperation of a man whose first and last instinct was survival. No one was coming for him, no one would save him.

"Don't—"

He repeated the word like it meant something, like Garleans—Garlean?—even knew the meaning of it.

A hand lifted to cover his unveiled eye—a decision he would regret later when the fine sands proved difficult to clean from the socket, when an infection festered in it. Yet his movement paused when his fingers touched hair, found that familiar sticky substance.

Oh...

He drew his hand back, stared at his red-stained fingertips.

Foggy confusion ate away at him. A golden brown eye glanced at the other person who still held his eyepatch in their hand. Tall. Pink... hair? He couldn't tell, his vision refused to clear. Was that a Garlean? But why would they try and hurt him, otherwise? ... Were they? Did they?

"... Who...?"

[crowtongued]

For muns with multiple muses, past and present, on any blog.

Rules: Fill out the form according to which muse suits each title best. (The same muse can have multiple titles.) Re-post and tag. Feel free to add more!

Favorite Muse: Alekt, Spy, Gyr, Protem, Kytes, Lavi

Most Character Development: Kytes, by far. He's had so much development ever since I started playing him with Rune (@eiinn-ulfr's OC) that its almost unreal. He's completely taken over the muse space lol

Trash Muse: Havoc (another OC). No question. Fuck that guy and his stupid egg beater.

The Meme-Lord: Lavi, probably. Also Spy and Gyr, especially when they're together.

Most Likely to Start a War: Havoc. Personality-wise, Kytes or Spy, since both are pretty fighty. But seeing as Alekt kind of canonically did start a war, actually Alekt lmfao As well as another OC, Altius

Worst Personality: Havoc. Literally the worst. Piece of shit. Bad dog.

Best Singer: Spy, for sure. Its not necessarily that she has the best voice, but she does have the most passion.

Most Attractive Muse: I guess it depends on how you look at it. Alekt is most attractive when it comes to looking refined and high-class. Spy is all about flashy rebel goth-punk fashion. Gyr if you like the rugged mountain-man look. Kytes if you like scars and someone who looks kind of young and unassuming but will tear you a new asshole if you look at him wrong.

Biggest Heart: Kytes. He might only give his heart away to a few select people but he's ride-or-die when he does. Spy is a close second.

Falls in Love Quickest: Kytes, even though most won't see it

Most Likely to Drop Their Phone in the Toilet: Kytes and Spy

Ice Ruler: Alekt

The Edgelord: Faulklin (OC), but I don't write him much these days. He practically invented edgelord.

Most Tragic Backstory: Kytes, by a long shot.

Best Case of Puberty: Probably Gyr considering the bitch is like 6'7" and ended up being taller than most adults.

Most Awkward: Kytes. He's painfully shy and doesn't really know how to be around other people.

Busy Bee: Alekt. Total workaholic.

Most Clueless: Kytes, on account of his history and memory problems.

Most Likely to Forget Their Wallet at Home: Kytes. Memory problems. Its fine though because he has his sugar-daddy Rune (@eiinn-ulfr).

Best Dressed: Alekt and Spy.

Biggest Flirt: Lavi, big time. He a hoe.

Most Dramatic: Lavi, Spy, Kytes, in that order.

Least Likely to Show Up Late: Alekt. Protem would argue he's always on time, according to Fate.

One with Weirdest Habit: Kytes. We don't talk about it.

Most Likely to Be Caught at the Gym: Spy, Gyr, Alekt, Lavi

Tagged by: @starsburned

Tagging: @starsburned since its been a hot minute, @eiinn-ulfr, @corruptiongifted / @zcitgcistcr, @theircurse, @crownshattered, @adenial, @drownedwar or steal it.