#nhali

[mephydoggo]

Did this lil thing to show off the differences between Nergal's (descendant) lusus and Airmid's (ancestor) lusus. Noir is the one with the scars. They look the same at first, but there are some key differences between them.

Noir: Bigger, lean, has scars and nicked ear, claw is bigger, head is longer, very very light stripes and markings, toes are sharp, back ridge is sharper, male

Nhali: Chubby, no scars, eyes are bigger, very very light freckle-like and underbelly markings, toes are duller, black ridge is spiky but not as sharp, female

so ye this is my father-daughter rat duo and i love them

[moonlifter-archive]

(´▽`ʃƪ)♡ @gyrabanian

[afreesworn]

Infinity symbol for ko'a?

Nabi Kharlu for Lehko’a Nhali

If I Think They Are: Ugly || Plain || Alright || Handsome || Freaking Adorable || Pretty || Beautiful || Hot || Stunning

“Hm. I don’t know that any of those words are really right. There is a bit of a mysterious air about him, but also a glimpse of kindness. I think all that makes him quite handsome.”

If I Would Go On A Date With Them: Not even if we were the last two one earth || No || Maybe || Eh….Sure || Yes || WILL YOU MARRY ME

“Of course not. He is spoken for. But even if he wasn’t with Ghoa, I don’t think I am his type. And I too am spoken for.”

If I Trust Them: Not At All || Not Really || Kind of || Yes || With My Life

“Ghoa trusts him.” She leans in. “And much more. So I trust him too. It takes someone special to win a heart of someone like her.”

If I Care About Them: Not At All || Not Really || Kind of || Yes || Deeply

“He visited me recently, and gave me some insight on things I was struggling with. He is a very sharp person. But… also caring too. He told me I can ask him for help should I ever need it, and… I think can trust him in doing so.”

If I Would Sleep With Them: Not Enough Alcohol in the World || No || Maybe if I were wasted || Maybe || Eh…Sure || Yes || TAKE YOUR CLOTHES OFF NOW!

“Didn’t I mention he is with Ghoa? I don’t have those kind of feelings for him. I just want to get to know him better. And… call him friend.”

My Comfort Level With Your Muse: Keep a Distance || Okay You Can Stand There, But Don’t Touch Me || Let’s Get Coffee and Talk || Let’s Cuddle || I Can Change In Front of You || Let’s Take a Bath Together

“We haven’t talked much. Only when it was necessary for a friend’s sake. But I think there is a fascinating person there. And someone who is good at heart. I think having tea with him would be very interesting. He might find it boring though…”

If I See You As: A Stranger || An Acquaintance || A Friend || A Close Friend || My Best Friend || A Crush || The Love of My Life

“I already consider him a friend, you see. I just have a good feeling about him. I don’t think he’ll prove me wrong.”

@moonlifter

(Art by @lilaccu )

Send me ∞ and my muse will tell you… 

[gyrabanian]

“You’ll be back.” for ko'a and amha jjdjaskjhd

three words prompts;

Dark tresses spilled over her bare shoulders, blackened fingertips clutching weakly at her own arms in a hug he would not spare her. Her eyes peer across the dim, quiet room at the man who was once her king, the moon above, the everything in her veins, as he drew a shirt slowly over the gnarled scar that claimed the expanse of his back. It disappeared, just like he would in due time, and she looks away. It was terribly cold, all of a sudden, despite that they had just been entangled with one another.

The feeling that settled in her gut, she wasn’t sure if he was love or hate, or something else, but it felt like sharp rocks. Pins and needles. A hairline fracture in glass just replaced.

Dryly, she swallows, and whispers, “So you’re leaving, then?”

“When aren’t I?”

The answer is, of course, expected. No matter what he said, no matter the way he touched her, the wolf always left the lamb. Looking down at her knees, thin as they were, she raises a hand to touch at the smeared lipstick that ran across her cheek.

He’s just closed the door when she says, “You’ll be back.”

But it’s less to him, and more to herself.And it brings her no comfort.

[sea-and-storm]

COMFORT ;  Drabble (Ghoa)

[TRIGGER WARNING]  Gonna just.. go ahead and slap one of these bad boys up here. This is a heavy drabble, and there’s a lot of elements of ptsd / trauma, alcoholism and other really questionable coping mechanisms. (Also vague implication of sex, but nothing explicit on that front.)

If that’s not your thing, then please take care of yourself and avoid this drabble, and just suffice to say that ya’ girl Ghoa has been having a really not great time after coming back from the ruins. (Thank you, Dice Gods, for that lovely ‘2′ that you gave me on the ‘How fucked up is Ghoa gonna be?’ roll.)

Ghoa's eyelids squeezed stubbornly shut against the sunlight filtering in through the openings in the blinds, a soft noise of irritation leaving the back of her throat as she turned her head to bury her face in the soft pillow beneath her. Yet try as she might to stall the inevitable, the damage was already done. Within moments, the Xaela was letting loose a frustrated whine as she turned her head out to face the window again, fixing the intruding light with a bleary, half-lidded glare for all the good it did. No matter how withering her stare, the first proud rays of Azim's dawning light would not be dissuaded.

Knowing then that a return to sleep would be unlikely, Ghoa rolled onto her back and directed her eyes towards the ceiling above. Her stomach churned uneasily with the motion, and so too did her head begin to throb and spin. She set her eyes on some indistinct pattern in the woodwork above her, trying to bring her mind to a focus through the pain and discomfort. And slowly but surely, she started to remember.

Or not remember, as it were.

Ever since she had finally returned home from their venture to those gods-be-damned ruins, Ghoa's slumbering had come in short and fitful bouts. No matter how exhausted she was -- and gods, was she exhausted -- she could only pass a few short bells in sleep at a time before the ever-present nightmares wrenched her harshly away from any semblance of meaningful rest. And once she was awake, powerless to stop the replay of awful thoughts that the dreams put into her head, it would be bells more before she finally calmed enough to try, however fruitlessly, again.

But now as she lie there staring up at the ceiling, no memories of awful dreams came back to the front of her mind to haunt her. Even when she tried to recall them, they refused to heed her. She remembered nothing but the deep, inky blackness of a dreamless sleep. And for the first time in weeks, despite her aches, Ghoa felt genuine relief.

For a time, she just lie there basking in the feeling of a somewhat restful night of sleep. A feeling that she had taken for granted all her life, but had recently missed all too dearly. A real smile, the first in countless suns, pulled at the corners of her lips. Things were getting better. Whatever horrors the ruins had imprinted upon her in their wake, it seemed, were finally beginning to pass.

Even the persistent discomfort and sickness lingering over her like a shroud wasn't enough to bring her down from her oddly buoyant mood. Both could easily be whisked away by a curative and some warm tea once she managed to roll herself out of bed. But before that, there was another she had to rouse awake.

The smile still resting on her lips, Ghoa turned the rest of the way to face the other side of the bed. Lehko'a would undoubtedly be relieved to see that she had finally gotten some real rest, and that she hadn't awoken into the same distant malaise that had plagued her since her return.

But as she finished turning, the only thing greeting her on the bed's other side was a cold, empty expanse of crumbled sheets and blankets. The signs that someone had been there at some point in the night, but no longer. Her smile instantly faltered, at first replaced by a look of furrowed brows and confusion. Then, slowly but surely, the sickening worry began to steadily creep back into her mind. Was something wrong? Had something happened? Was Lehko'a alright?

The Xaela quickly pushed herself up into a sitting position atop the bed, instantly regretting the jarring movement. A sharp pain shot through her head in protest, and the whole world around her seemed to shift and move as if someone had spun it like a globe. One hand moved to splay atop the covers to steady herself, while the other pressed to her face. Her eyes squeezed tightly shut and a steady stream of curses, half in her mother tongue and half not, fell like a waterfall from between her lips. Panic rose like bile -- or maybe it was bile? -- in the back of her throat, silently pleading for the pain and dizziness to go away quickly so that she could go find him.

And sure enough, they slowly subsided enough for her to drop her hand away from her face and for her eyes to open again. Yet when they did, when she finally was able to look around the room, she found herself briefly frozen in confusion.

This room wasn't her own, nor could she readily recall having ever stepped foot in it before. Empty bottles dotted the room, some turned over in the floor and others lingering half-empty on tables and counters. Joining the former, her clothes were strewn in haphazard heaps across the floor, scattered as if they had been tugged off in a hurry. In the very back of her mind, however, some distant voice told her something was missing. But what was--

No sooner had the question begun to form in the haze of her mind than did the answers all come flooding back to her at once, a raging deluge of memory washing over her. Once again her eyes squeezed tightly shut and her hands rose to clutch tightly at her head, and a soft gasp of distress tore from her raw, tight throat.

Suddenly she was elsewhere, not only in place but in time, shortly after midday at the rented suite that she and Lehko'a had been sharing. Her smile was hollow as she grasped at his hands and tried to give them a reassuring squeeze, placing a kiss on his cheek.

'Nabi needs my help with something at the clinic,' she'd told him. It was an excuse that she had used a lot since coming home. She used it when her head became so loud with dark thoughts that she needed to get away to calm her heart and clear her mind. When even just looking at Lehko'a for any length of time hurt her like a knife turned slowly in her gut, and she needed space just to be able to breathe again.

'It'll likely be late before we're done,' she had told him. 'I'll just sleep there, so don't wait up for me.'

'Don't worry about me,' she had told him when she saw his concern. 'I'm fine, I promise.'

'I love you,' she had told him when she saw the doubt and the hurt and the sadness on his face, and she had meant it. Out of it all, that she would never lie about. She just needed some time and some space to figure out how to put herself back together again.

The memories skipped ahead, and she was long gone from their temporary home. Yet nor was she at the clinic like she had assured the Keeper. In truth, not even one of the times that she had told him that that was where she was going did the Xaela actually end up at the House of Sparrows. After all, she was trying to avoid the others just as much as she was trying to avoid him. It all hurt the same.

Just as she had done each time prior, Ghoa had instead wandered her way back to Kugane, to the back alleys of Sanjo Hanamachi where drinks were plentiful and questions were few.

Wine and liquor helped, though perhaps not in the most constructive of ways. After a few glasses, she could feel the sharpest edges of the pain and fear begin to dull to a level that was almost manageable. Usually, she stopped there. Last night, she hadn't.

Try as she might to figure out how to pull herself together again, she knew it was only getting worse. Turning off the awful emotions with drink during the day only did so much, and she knew that artificial numbness wasn't a real, tenable solution. That she felt the need to hide it from those she cared about, out of both shame of her own weakness and a desire not to cause them concern, was proof enough of that. But even if she was aware of it, it still made it no easier for her to come up with a better alternative.

She had been several drinks into trying to puzzle it out when she had found her solitude suddenly interrupted. As she recalled it now, Ghoa could no longer remember what the man looked like in any explicit detail. A hyur, or maybe an elezen? Passably handsome, she thought, but that may have been either the alcohol or wishful thinking talking. She could certainly no longer recall his name but she did remember, however vaguely, that he had been a sailor of some sort. Not that that was hard to remember, considering that was seemingly half the city's population at any given time.

Ghoa remembered being wary of being joined in her drinking at first. After all, it was far from her first time in a bar;  she knew exactly what a smooth-talking fellow approaching a lady in her cups was angling for. At first, she had only endured the conversation to be polite, trying to find a way to weasel out of it without incensing him. In this part of town, it was best to err on the side of caution.

Yet the longer he stayed, the more comfortable she found herself becoming. Whereas she had spent the last few days trying to avoid direct eye contact with Lehko'a and forcing herself to endure conversation despite the aching in her chest, both came easily and naturally to her with this stranger. He was charming, and he didn't pry into why she was there drinking alone. Rather, he fed her drunken wonder with stories of his time abroad and had her in tears of laughter with the tales of his misadventures, all while making sure that neither of their cups ever went empty for more than a tick during the bells they had spent just talking about nothing.

The rest of the memories only came in disjointed fragments of limited recollection and phantom sensation with large gaps of time missing between them. Stumbling back to where the man was staying, and and both of them breaking down into laughter when she realized she had lost a shoe somewhere along the way. Her back pressed against the wooden door, breathlessly watching as the man tried to open it as fast as his drink-addled hands would let him. Almost tripping over her clothes in her hasty attempts to rid him of his between kisses steeped in desperation and longing.

But the very last thing she could recall -- and in disturbingly vivid memory compared to the rest -- was the feeling of peace that had settled over her like a blanket as she had curled in against him and rested her head on his chest. Of closing her eyes without fear of the nightmares that now lived behind her eyelids. Of the soft smile that had lingered on her flushed face as she drifted off to sleep.

Now, she had been released by the onslaught of memories and was left to sit there, dumbfounded in the present. Her eyes once again stared at the clothes strewn about the room, realizing now that what was missing was her nameless and faceless bedmate.

And when that realization dawned upon her, a tidal wave of loneliness broke over her with it. Loneliness that brought her back to other, more distant memories. A childhood spent largely alone, wishing only for the company of friends and family that the other children her age didn't know how lucky they were to have. Years later, a night of peculiar joy that had turned to unexpected horror, afterward spent curled up in a ball in the back of a dark yurt longing for the almost motherly presence of Togene, her only friend among the Kharlu. Years later still, and she was right back at the days spent in the cramped and claustrophobic dark, with dried blood caked under her fingernails from hours spent desperately trying to pry her way free and her voice hoarse from screaming in hopes that someone, anyone, would hear her.

It was then that the realization hit Ghoa that the only thing that brought her any relief from the pain she was feeling -- the only thing that she had ever wanted in such times -- was the company of others. To not be alone. For someone to hold her and calm her fears and tell her that she was alright. Yet at the same time, she realized that the people that she should have longed to turn to for comfort the most -- Lehko'a, Nabi, Batuhan, and even Anchor and Shael in their own strange way -- weren't the ones that she was wishing for now.

It was the man from last night, whose name nor face she could not remember and would most likely never see again. A man who knew nothing about her, who cared nothing about her, but because of that, one whose company it didn't pain her to share.

Her stomach rolled violently with sickness at the thought, and hurriedly the Xaela scrambled to disentangle herself from the sheets. Her head was pounding in protest as she rose to her feet, unsteady steps causing her to trip over discarded clothes and to bounce gracelessly off of the door frame as she all but ran for the bathroom. No sooner had she set her blurred, tear-stained sights on the wastebin did she collapse with a hard thump onto the floor in front of it, her whole body heaving with sickness as she emptied the contents of her stomach.

Monster, the voice that had been ever present in her head since her encounter with Otsuyu whispered from the recesses of her mind. Monster, it chanted as its voice grew louder and angrier and more insistent. M̸��͓Ŏ̶͍̤̆N̶̛̙͝S̷̱͔̎̚Ṯ̴̡̋̋Ë̶͔̿ͅR̴͔̅, it all but shouted at her, now an eerie, distorted chorus of all the accusing voices of loved ones that always came to her in her nightmares.

Another heave came, and another, until there was nothing left but sour, burning bile left in the woman's stomach. She swiped the back of a shaking hand across her mouth as she leaned away from the waste bin. After a moment, drawing in a shaking breath, she all but crawled across the cold floor to the shower. Unsteady hands turned the knobs until water, almost scalding hot, began to spray from the nozzle. But she didn't seem to mind as she crawled inside, even as the heat caused her skin to flush red.

"What's wrong with me?" she wailed to no one but herself, curling into a ball on the tiles below. "What's wrong with me…?"

And though she stayed there, wracked with sobs, until the hot water had turned icy cold, no answer came.

[a-memory-of]

Kazha'a Anhsari curled a lip up defensively once the other was closer, keeping him in his vision even while he worked. He had tensed up the moment the other started to move, and his posture showed it. "I do work here all the time," he growled out. "I don't need a fucking lecture. This wasn't from anyone here." Lehko'a Nhali lifts his hands in mock defense, his grin never once parting from his features. "Alright, alright, no need to be so nasty, hm?" He lowers his hands and gives a quiet little chuckle, the tip of his ear flickering. "Who's it from, then, hm? You don't seem like the trouble makin' type -- at least, not anythin' like I am." His grin brightens, displaying yellowed fangs that glint in the low light of the alleyway. "Name's Rhel'ir, by the way." Kazha'a sighed, finishing the stitches and checking it over before biting the end of the thread with his own teeth. "I do work. For coin. Escorting things, stealing things," he shrugged. "Sometimes people try and steal it back." The scowl was still firmly in place, and his eyes still watching the other with the occasional glance. Lehko'a snorts, noting the wary glances. "Don't worry yourself none, hm? I'm not lookin' to snatch some kid's coin. Not tonight, anyroads. Gettin' too old for that ~" Breathing a sigh, he takes one final pull from the cigarette before nubbing it against the dirty cobbles, blowing the smoke politely away from Kaz. "You should probably see a mender for that," he muses, turning back to his companion. "Stitchwork's nice and all, but an infection will right kill you if you're not careful with it." Kazha’a eyed his arm, huffing and shaking his head, "It's fine. That's what that is for," he paused briefly to flick a tired gaze to the bottle sitting near his leg. "And I'd know if it was poisoned. I'm not a kid either. You try anything and you'll regret it." The last was bitten out around a growl, ears lowering closer to his skull. The other snorts, rolling his eyes. "You can't be more than.. Twenty turns. You're a kid to me. But, aye, aye, I'll quit lecturin' you, just like you asked." Pausing, he gives a little hum and a flutter of his ear before pulled a metallic case from his vest. He flicks it open and procures another cigarette before offering it aside. "If some shmuck tried to jip you of your pay, and you made off with just that," he says, canting his head to the stitched wound. "..Makes me wonder if there actually is some bite to that bark of yours." Kazha'a returned the snort, looking unsure if he should be offended or not, "Twenty-six." He eyed the cigarette case with another curl of his lip and moved to roll his shoulder before settling more against the stone wall.  "I've been doing this all my life. The scratch is nothing. People with gil to spare don't need me to have a pleasant attitude to get the job done." "Still a kid," he teases, clicking the case shut after returning his cigarette to it, placing it back within his vest shortly thereafter. "All your life, hm? Runnin' the streets here just like the rest of us, then." He casts his gaze off across the lane, shoulders weighted with something heavy and melancholic. "It's a shite life, but I don't know anythin' better to wish for." A low chortle rolls from his chest then as he turns his grin back to Kaz. "Any family, then? Or is it just you?"

He eyed him a long moment, lowering his brows but thought better than to question the look. He shrugs, "Was born in the Shroud. I just get the most work here. And," his face twisted up a bit, struggling with how much he was willing to admit. But something changed in his eyes before he continued, far darker, but far more sad, "What was my clan is there. Only one person I'd call family." Lehko'a perks up a bit and cants his head, messy hair falling into and away from his eyes. His grin wanes into more of a smile, less teeth, but none the less teasing. "Some childhood sweetheart, hm? A pretty lass with wildflowers in her hair ~? Maybe a lad, just the same?" "What?" he tensed up again, ears immediately pinning back, "No. Fuck off. It's my sister." He probably hadn't meant to admit that, as he looked away, cursing at his own impulsive anger."It doesn't matter. Shroud hasn't been my home in a long time." The other snorts, lips peeling back into that terrible grin again. "Your sister, hm? Been a while since you've seen her, then?" He sighs and settles back again, gaze remaining focused on Kaz. "She's younger, right? Real innocent like, big ol' doe eyes? You'd give the world and more for her, yeah?" His tone remains even, but the way his gaze wanders betrays some odd manner to his words, as if he spoke from experience. Kazha’a went quiet at that, turning away and losing himself to his own thoughts. The topic made him uncomfortable, but while he liked the strange quiet understanding that settled, he struggled for something to say. Rubbing a hand across the back of his neck, he drew his gaze elsewhere, "Yeah."

With @moonlifter

[idealistsinc]

4 // baleful

adj.  full of menacing or malign influences; wretched; miserable. wc: 703

“That was disrrespectful.”

Isha’to ignored her. A laugh rang out some yalms away; sinuous bodies moved through the thicket, new arrivals with bows and spears, in paint and feathers, with precious silver strung in their ears, seeking blessings before Menphina peaked past the mountains’ shadows and cast her eyes down on her people. Nhali would rather have returned to them. Their touch was a balm on smarted nerves, their gratitude for her prayers a boon. But instead, here she was at the fringe of the forest with her brother, who didn’t even possess the decency to look up from that thick tome he’d lugged here from Sharlayan and acknowledge her. That damnable book had likely cost his father more gil than their mother had ever seen in one place.

Patience, Nhali. He’s a child. It was difficult when she was tired, though, when her swollen feet ached, when her colicky newborn (Menphina bless her spirit) had kept her up all afternoon with wailing. Lover forgive her, her patience was not as it ought have been as she slammed the book closed on Isha’to’s lap, nearly catching his fingers in its pages. “Hey, I’m talking to you.”

He glared resentfully at her through gold-rimmed glasses. His accent was more prominent than ever, consonants clipped and cold. “Leave me alone. Mother said you weren’t to force me.”

“I’m not forrcing you to do anything. But you werre rrude, and you upset Mama. You should apologize to herr.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” said Isha’to. “What does it matter if I don’t drape myself in feathers and howl at the moon?”

As a shamaness, Nhali knew many of the malignant influences within the forest that could infest an unwary soul: aetheric sickness, void-touched spirits, those blighted groves where heedless travelers might find themselves devoured by trees. But what was wrong with Isha’to—what had been wrong with Isha’to—was a more ordinary influence. Bloody Sharlayan, and bloody Senan Weise with it. Her baby brother was more surly and uncommunicative than ever. Every year, she saw him stray farther from Menphina’s open arms into a harsh and tangled woodland where she could not follow, and no matter how she tried to haul him back, Isha’to always slipped away.

It’s not his fault.

Maybe not. Nevertheless, Nhali had reached the end of her rope. “Howl at the—what is yourr prroblem, Isha’to?”

She didn’t think Isha’to would answer her; he rarely defended the snide little comments he made. But he surprised her this time, in a voice tremulous with an intensity of feeling she hadn’t heard from him in a long time. “You know the Gridanians laugh, right? This—” He made a wide, sweeping gesture, “—this is a joke to them. Flea-infested Keepers of the Moon, profligating their worthless race and crying for Menphina’s deliverance from their self-imposed problems—”

“So what? Why do you care what they think? Why does that mean She has to be a joke to you? Menphina is yourr Goddess—”

“My goddess,” said Isha’to, so venomously that his tone might have given an adder a run for its money. “Was she my goddess when Dalamud fell? Was she Luma’s goddess, Nhali? Your goddess is a dreamed-up spectre on a giant rock in the sky, while out there in the real world people look on and rightfully think you’re all bloody fools.”

Luma. The name was like opening a fresh lash on her heart. Luma. She believed, still, wherever her sister was, that Menphina touched her with Her gentle, cleansing light.

But if Isha’to didn’t, then…

“We’rre gatherred in celebrration of Menphina,” said Nhali, exhausted. “If you loathe Her so much, why arre you herre?”

Isha’to went still. His knuckles were white where he clutched at the book, storm-violet eyes wide and…hurt, somehow. “Perhaps that’s my mistake,” he said finally, chilly as the wind off the lake. He stood up hurriedly, a trembling flick at the tip of his tail the only sign of his distress, and dipped his head to her mockingly. “I will be out of your way, priestess.”

“Isha’to, I didn’t mean—”

But he was gone already. Nhali sighed, glancing up at the faint ring of Menphina, barely visible in the gloaming, and prayed for strength.

[trust-me-im-satan]

my sister tried make a shrek cake for my dads birthday and i no longer fear death

[intergalacticxthief]

HANDWRITING CAN TELL YOU A LOT ABOUT A PERSON.

Go here and post your character’s name in their handwriting!

tagged by: @shiroiitsune​

tagging: Si lo viste lo haces

Dahl Fanaril

Rhen Nhalis

Yoshino Kiyoshi

Reinhart Cross

[futuristicpiratetyrantdesttuitor]

00172335673144255890123456709867534122100 nesse momento não BBB UFF uffa buffet de garantia monteulhailhadesonhosislamdpalavrqs iurrrcara de vrr gol nhali de leão dps das fotos que vc mandou msg no WhatsApp para cálculo de renovação do seu conteúdo para cálculo para cálculo para cálculo para cálculo para pagamento de leão dp de de tomei levo ele limão igual até agora nada do seu lado de casa agora e prisma de leão dps das 10 7 uffa lê os isre la te ele o cartão nem assim ou vai até vim vai pelo cqbinho e varinha no cno búlr

[mechanicalrebellion]

📝 C:

Send a 📝 and I’ll introduce you to one of my OCs!

Rahenous Milhkairin conocido también como “Estrella Escarlata” fue uno de los ases más fuertes del Gobierno, líder de la división de operaciones especiales conocida como SOF la que juntaba a los más habilidosos integrantes de la milicia, solamente la división del comandante Wilheim estaba por encima de ellos en cuanto a la jerarquía existente.

Un hombre que no tiene igual en su capacidad para manejar armaduras de batalla, jamás conoció la derrota, incluso, muchos consideraban un milagro que llegará a ser dañado, incluso aunque fuera por un rasguño. No solamente destacaba por su habilidad al pilotear, también era el hombre indicado para tomar la pistola y acabar con quien fuera el objetivo por su frialdad al actuar. 

El gobierno mismo lo traicionó al darse cuenta que sabía demasiado, primero lo encerró en una de las prisiones más seguras del gobierno, pero esto no fue suficiente para poder contenerlo. Escapó de prisión para unirse a su unidad y avisarles de la situación de la que fue inculpado, por supuesto que el gobierno no se quedó de brazos cruzados, mandó al propio Wilheim a acabar con el, sobrevivió de milagro pero el resto de su equipo fue asesinado de manera brutal. Fue dado por muerto después de ese momento y ha preferido que sea así. 

Comenzó a moverse como Rhen Nhalis, un excéntrico millonario dedicado a la transportación y enamoradizo a más no poder, pero en su espalda aún carga con todos los pecados que hizo por el gobierno, todo como un secreto que mantiene en su interior, porque sabe que si la verdad se es descubierta, abriría la caja de Pandora. 

—  ( @verwelktkranz )

[progeny-of-the-fury]

Journey to the Twelve: Llymlaen, the Navigator

Log date: 8/14/17

OOC Note: The text in these logs are strictly for the readers enjoyment. Anyone using the knowledge displayed within this text without the participants knowledge risks the potential of blacklisting from future communication and roleplay. Please do not meta-game!

Tags: @thehawu

The trip across Eorzea was one long in the making. 

I had asked that Lord Parlemaix accompany me on this journey, as I presumed a Lieutenant of the Adders would be well versed with the lay of the land. I seemed to brood some in worry as well. Having invited Lenny in excitement over his desire to learn more of our gods, only to be shortly bestowed upon the traditional expectation of such a pilgrimage to each stone. To say I felt foolhardy would be an understatement, secretly I hoped my invitation had not been misconstrued. Countess De’bayle seemed rather against the excursion altogether, worried over my still tender and healing wounds inflicted on me during the campaign in Gyr Abania. I had taken matters into my own hands to make their healing process swifter, my drive to learn of this land far out-weighing my concern for an injury that in time will find its mends. While the woman's concern was appreciated, for my own good, I needed to dismiss them. I have lived this long without their presence, what more is a fortnight or two? 

Still, the idea of leaving her alone brought me no great pleasure, I was fully aware of her lonely state. I would have plenty stories and trinkets to return to her, while she handles the dealings with the House in the Counts absence. I know full well what duties entail. As for myself, I had belongings to be put away into storage, and a map to prepare...

Faithful Navigator, help us to see where our hearts lie. Lead us toward true divinity, so that we may find comfort in knowing our rightful place within your Halls. Grant me the virtue to shepard as you do.

Adelise De'bayle was standing at the counter, conversing with Madame Celeste over more than likely the keeping of anything important in her time away. Strapped to her ready side was a rather thick bag, more than likely carrying her belongs for this escapade. In her hand, a decently sized rolled parchment was held tightly to her chest. "Please make sure nothing happens to it, it is very expensive," she huffs out in irritation, adjusting her baggage some.

Siovant Parlemaix passes quietly into the house, having come looking for the young Adelise.  The eve of their trip was nigh, and he was all packed.  "Dawdling, Adelise?" He inquired in the lofty tones of one who was just barely more prepared than his peers.  Weight shifts from heel to heel, watching the young woman with golden hues.

Adelise De'bayle tossing her head in the man's direction, her braid thwapping at her back, Adelise scowled slightly, "there you are. Lord Parlemaix, I have been meaning to bring something to your attention," she huffs, nodding toward Celeste before stepping away to approach him. "Lenny wishes to drop in for portions of our trip, wanting to learn of the different patrons himself. I told him I would ask your thoughts on it all first," she eyes him, some awaiting his response.

Siovant Parlemaix furls his ebon brows in some manner of confusion, at first looking as though he didn't quite understand.  One of his palms rested atop the considerable grimoire that hung from his hip, "You were the organizer of this trek." He asserts, "You're welcome to bring whoever you so desire." He'd note, cocking his hip to one side.  "Will he be joining us today?  Or was he merely going to drop in from the middle of the wilderness?"

Adelise De'bayle: "I would have to inform him," she replies flatly, her brows furrowing somewhat at his response. "I suppose he would just drop in then... at some point. No matter. Aside from that, I wished to discuss our first location. You know this land better than I do... would you prefer we started farther from home and made our way north?"

Siovant Parlemaix runs those sharpened globes along her face, lips pursing ever-slightly.  "That would be acceptable.  Was that the path you were intending on taking?" He probed gently.

Adelise De'bayle pauses some, her hands tugging forward the parchment within her grasp. Tugging it open, the girl would dip her nose into page, "well... perhaps I am being biased... as I wish to see the sea again," she murmured out, "I figured perhaps starting with Vylbrand would be more optimal anyhow, as then we can continue most of the rest of the journey on foot or bird-back."

Siovant Parlemaix seems to consider her offering with an appraising expression, "I wouldn't mind a bit of sea-breeze myself.  I find your choice to be of an acceptable caliber." He affirms with a graceful nod of his head.

Adelise De'bayle smiles lightly at the man's praise, feeling only lightly fluffed from his words. "I have mapped out each location as well to make this easier on ourselves..." she exhales out contently, handing the man over her now presumed 'map'.

Siovant Parlemaix would take the offered article from the young woman, "Your forward thinking is appreciated, Adelise." He'd note in firm, warm tones.  He'd tuck it into his coat, near to his chest as to keep it close at hand.  "Shall we, in any case?  I presume that you are packed?"

Adelise De'bayle: "I am all but prepared for departure. Let us get going, I would prefer not to miss the next ship to Limsa. Are you feeling air or sea?"

Siovant Parlemaix considers for long moments, "Air would be a great deal faster, I should think." He notes softly, then he'd turn on a heel.  "Shall we?"

Adelise De'bayle: "We shall."

Adelise De'bayle leads the packed duo into the Shroud and to the city. Once travelled into the inn, they made their way down into the airship landing where the young woman tugged free her gil pouch, being sure to properly count out the exact amount for each of their tickets. "You know... I have left the Shroud before but... this feels a lot different. I never left those times with the intention of learning or exploring, simply there and back. Mm, I am both anxious and excited to leave this place for awhile."

Siovant Parlemaix laughs loftily at her admission, "Soon you will be a learned traveller, and you'll find no place in Eorzea is beyond your reach."  He'd flick a sort of furitive glance around, seeing only idle-eyed attendants.  "My love." He'd suddenly add.  "We shall see how you feel about distant lands once we've returned, Mm?"

Adelise De'bayle lets out a small scoff, "I will have you know back... home, I ventured quite far with my instructor. This was hardly any place we had not rea-" the young woman is caught off guard some, her eyes glancing toward the airship ticketer who seemed rather disinterested in the idle chatter of travelers. "D-Distant lands? So you did wish to travel to the east then," she huffs out, her cheek the slightest shade of pink.

Siovant Parlemaix leaned in a little closer, smiling crookedly.  "We shall have to see how we travel together first.  You may find that you tire of my presence after you've been stuck with me for awhile." He chuffs amusedly.

Adelise De'bayle grunts somewhat, "perhaps," she murmurs, shoving the man his ticket. "Let us board before the leave without us," she offers the ticketer a polite bow before quickly shuffling away.

The duo boards their ship to Limsa, the trip a bell or two long before eventually the sea-side city was made visible from the air. Once landed, they both made their exit.

Siovant Parlemaix: "About as thrilling as flights can be, I suppose."

Adelise De'bayle exited off the ship with a relaxed expression, seemingly having found the the trip to her liking as she spent nearly the entirety of it aboard the top deck enjoying the cold breeze. "I quite liked it, not a fan of flying?

Siovant Parlemaix: "I've never had enough time to enjoy them at my leisure.  Flights, that is.  Nearly every one was at the behest of some work issue."

Adelise De'bayle frowns to this, her eyes directing downward. "Mm, I see. I suppose that would make them a bit less enjoyable after some time," bringing a hand behind her to tug forward her braid, Adelise tugged at its end some. "The first of the stones is here within the city. I do not know the layout here much, but from what I remember it is on the Upper Decks."

Siovant Parlemaix moves to offer the young woman his hand.  And should she take it, she'd find herself being lead away.  "I believe I know where it is.  Although you will have to direct us the rest of the way."

Adelise De'bayle glances toward his hand with brows raising over her forehead, the injuries that once lay there now but light marks. Reaching to place hers within it, Adelise would glance around with a modest expression, avoiding his. "That is fine. I am sure it should be clear enough once we are in the area... it would give me a good chance to speak to the natives anyhow."

-Leading the young Half-Elezen through the bustling city, Siovant eventually brought her up into the Upper Decks, the area decorated ornately with colourful bombs and lights.-

Adelise De'bayle: "Huh... is there a festival going on?"

Siovant Parlemaix inhales briskly, drinking in the mixture of salt and other various city-smells.  "I believe so. I haven't paid much attention."

Adelise De'bayle looked about the lovely lights curiously, a small smile gracing her lips, "it looks nice... I wonder what they are celebrating... back home we celebrated the Sunbreeze festival about this time.”

After some more time moving along, he would bring her to a would-be secluded area, the location of Llymlaens stone and a perfect view of the darkening sea.

Siovant Parlemaix: "And here you have it."

Lehko'a Nhali parts with an absolutely shite-eating grin to his companion as his one ear flutters about, proud of himself. "Aye, quite often I tell myself the same." A final drag is taken from the cigarette before he nubs the end against the stone, scorching yet another mark on the alabaster as smoke curls from his lips. "You and I are not the same, darlin'." He pauses, looking rather pointedly to her now. Before the approach of others gives him pause. Brows furrow and the corners of his lips pull downward into something terrible, almost akin to a pout. He falls silent, gaze casting off over the harbour.

Siovant Parlemaix halts just short of the fascination, golden hues alighting upon the sunbaked stone and gently-trickling water with some manner of curiosity.  "I've seen it dozens of times, but I've never actually stopped to examine it." His scarred lips tilt delicately, in an expression of musing thought.

Adelise De'bayle looked about the statue with a small state of awe, the beginning fireworks of the festival lighting the evening sky. "This was far more exciting then I had anticipated..." she breathed out, glancing over at the nearby duo. Lips tugging awkwardly, Adelise simply enjoyed what she came for. "Llymlaen is the Navigator. she watches the seas and helps lead sailors safely over its waves through storms..." glancing over toward the Elezen at her side, an endeared expression washed over her features.

Hawu Jinjahl angles oversized ears back to take in the voices of a pair of folk that stand now at their backs, mouth lagging in the wake of her cigarette. Pity, they've silenced her companion. With a huff of quiet laughter, the witch reaches up to shove at the bandit with a hand so heavy with wealth that it becomes the night. "Are you /frightened/ of a little company, dove? My, we really must be different," And they are, the valley of their dichotomy turns sleeplessly with the howls of what lays within it. She's a ghastly thing, this wretch as she leans his way, voice low. "I will find a way to give you something in return for your services then. It would make it easier for me to employ you if you /told/ me what you might like? Trust me, it will not be easy, accompanying me in the dark. There are things you might not like at all."

Adelise De'bayle: "It is quite beautiful is it not?" she inhales deeply at the salt-filled air. "It brings me fond memories..." her scarlet gaze rolled upward toward the heavens, once more growing lost amongst the endless lights.

Siovant Parlemaix flicks an errant eye towards the tones of the paired strangers and their enigmatic intents.  Still, his mood was not quashed by company.  "Tell me something about home." His expression slipped towards Adelise, eyes alight with that curious gleam.  "That... other home, I mean."

Adelise De'bayle kept her gaze toward the sky, the joy within her eyes seeming to dullen with his inquiry. "We would often make trips to a seaside port city similar to this. My instructor and I, or Serick. We would spend our sun there enjoying the sausages served by the vendors, a specialty there and visit each of the respective guilds," Adelise smiled lightly, the expression somewhat somber as she tore her eyes from the stars. "I always said I would pick up a craft, each time I went. I believe it was just an excuse for them to keep taking me back. At the end, when dusk came and washed the sky over in darkness, we would sit and watch the ships leave, the sea an endless black. Covered in these same lights..."

Lehko'a Nhali sways in time with the force of her palm against his shoulder -- which, to say, is not much at all. Her arms were but dried twigs. Still, it earns her a sharpened look and his hand rises to snatch up her wrist, grip perhaps a touch too firm. Slowly, he relents and places it into her silken lap. Tucking the cigarette she'd offered him some bell before into the breastpocket of his vest, he rises, nubbed tail flicking about behind him in muted agitation. Turning, his mismatched gaze falls upon the innocent pair as if they have trespassed something sacred with their presence here -- not that they might have known, of course. Sniffing, he spits into the well as he parts to leave, black tar seeping into the clear waters like ink.

Siovant Parlemaix would draw just a step closer to her as she spoke, offering her muted comfort in his physical closeness in addition to the tangled aroma of that mildest of colognes that he wears.  Familiar scents, paired with the unfamiliar sea breeze.  "I see." He breathed, tones muted in a somberness to match her own.  "It must be hard.  But I know that you are strong." He'd affirm to her, "It sounds lovely, though."

Hawu Jinjahl raises her chin as her wrist is snatched, painted lids swimming low to split the rounds of her eyes in twain. Fingers curl inward, relenting at it's placed back into the seat of her lap. "What an irritable creature." As he rounds the corner, Hawu rocks up to her feet, black smoke draining from the corner of her mouth like poison on the air as she turns to regard the pair. Despite the vitriol expressed by her companion, she offers them both a nod, the carmine curve of her mouth both great and terrible before heel claps to stone. Is that an apologetic look in her eye? No, it mustn't be so. She's ambling after Lehko'a with a lazy gait, suddenly privy to trouble.

Adelise De'bayle leaned into his form gently, eventually turning her head to look up towards him. In-taking another deep breath as their proximity grew, Adelise seemed taken by his aroma. Attention drawn for a short moment as the feline pair made their abrupt exist, her eyes flickered to the inky pollution of the fountain the man left in his wake, it rinsing out and into the pitch sea. The young woman simply sighed and let the thought of any potential confrontation go in the face of enjoying their moment here just a bit longer. "Up there. The larger blue stars that glow brighter than the rest? That is the gate to the fifth heaven... the Heaven of Water."

Siovant Parlemaix draws his gaze upwards in some curiosity, his brows furrowing as he squints.  His sharpened Wildwood hues had to refocus for the darkness.  "Mmm." He breathes in introspect, "I see." He notes, absorbing the information she so gracefully imparted.

Adelise De'bayle: "You would think that to be Llymlaen's heaven, but in truth she is that of the Wind. Though perhaps considering her duty, it might not be all too surprising," she motions a hand up, attempting to point toward the green stars, "The Navigator and the Wanderer, Oschon, created it atop a lofty peak. It is said only explorers, adventurers, saints and those who rescue are allowed within their halls," Adelise bows her head some, as if hoping to take in the knowledge herself. "I wonder how many follow such a path here? The rogue gusts that create tempests from the Heavens created the hell where bandits, defilers of land and sea, and pirates are thrown to. Do you think perhaps many here are destined to such a fate?"

Siovant Parlemaix shifts his weight from heel to heel in mild uncertainty, his eyes dropping back down to the bleached stone that they stood before.  "It is difficult to tell where the hearts of the transient will be sentenced.  Although, I would not be as naive as to say that there is not an exceptional wealth of 'privateers' within these sunbaked spires."

Adelise De'bayle took a step forward, her eyes wandering over the symbol of the Navigator. "Indeed. Exceptional. People who fall within these gusts, they cannot be saved. How could my voice ever reason with that of a pirate or bandit," a singular breath slipped through her in resignation, ger body moving to kneel onto the stone ledge just before the fountain. Reaching into her bag, Adelise would tug out a decently sized white stone, it egg-like in appearance. Moving it over carefully, she would place the object within the water, watching it for some time.

Siovant Parlemaix drew near to her kneeling form, curious as to her actions.  "What have we here?  Gifts for the gods?" He brushed his fingertips along the crown of her scalp, scritch-scratching his fingers there softly.

Adelise De'bayle: "The gods care little for gifts, they offer them nothing," she huffs, leaning her head into his scratches feline-like before eventually tucking her leather-clad hands into the water to scoop the stone out. "I simply hope on this journey that allowing him to feel the presence of each god might help to bring him some clarity. His rage knows no bounds."

Siovant Parlemaix lofts an ebon brow, "Him?"  Curiosity licked at the edges of his gravelly tones, his eyes slipping about that strange stone.

Adelise De'bayle: "Nogelle," she replied swiftly, the name rolling from her tongue in shame, her tone leveled. "He is never too far for long. Forgive me, for having made you do what you did. I cannot imagine the experience was a pleasant one." Adelise brought the egg up to her face, her thumbs pressing against the shell with some firmness. "He is a troublemaker."

Siovant Parlemaix shifts his weight from heel to heel, although his expression was one that hardly claimed surprise.  "I had assumed something of the sort would be the case." He drew in mild tones, "It was not the most... thrilling experience, I suppose." His shoulders slumped slightly, revealing the somberness that took over him.

Adelise De'bayle raised the egg upward, a gentle smiled reserved only for his presence gracing him in their tranquility. "He will be alright I assure you. It has been so long since that has happened to him, it is best to keep him on a tight leash. He gets too possessive otherwise," her head dipped forward in an assuring nod, moving to slip the incased Nogelle away carefully, patting at her bag for extra measure. Shifting her legs under her to push herself back up to stand, Adelise brushed her coat off, "this is the first of Twelve. Not in actual order, but for this particular outing. Did you wish to travel farther out into La Noscea tonight? Or leave in the morning?"

Siovant Parlemaix seems to consider his options, "If we leave the City now, it's quite likely that we'll end up sleeping in the wilds. If that's not something that concerns you, I would recommend that path." He doesn't seem particularly drawn to either option, weighing both their merits.

Adelise De'bayle grins slightly, "in truth, I might actually prefer that.  That does not seem to ridiculous does it? I became so adjusted to sleeping under the stars that the plushness of a bed hardly brings me the same comfort. You had mentioned there potentially being springs here in Eorzea, yes?" she eyed him, "I believe where Oschons stone lies, there is one near the location. Least from what I could tell from my gatherings. It is a further trip north but..." she murmurs out gently, “before I forget. I contacted Lenny on the flight here. I am sure we will be seeing him here soon."

Siovant Parlemaix could not help but allow the sardonic furl of his brow, a barely perceptible tightening of his jaw.  "I'm looking forward to seeing him." He notes softly, affirmed for the combination of the tome at his hip and the curved Wildwood blade hidden beneath his coat.  "Did he give any indication of where he will meet us, or are we simply to stumble into him at some point?"

Adelise De'bayle: "I had informed him we would be here in the city, so I am sure he is somewhere about," Adelise seemed to brighten momentarily at the thought, her hands clapping together almost uncharacteristically as her thoughts seeped into her movements. "Maybe he got caught looking at the festival decorations as well. I am sure he would quite like them, he is an adventurer after all," Adelise reaches to take Siovant’s hand, hesitating for a moment. "Ah..." her fingers curl, retracting as her lips tugged downward unhappily. "This way..."

[moonlifter-archive]

these are actually rly fun to make

[tanmansuviet]

[gyrabanian]

few of the headshots ive done lately ft. @ffxivfisticuffs & @moonlifter

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[sea-and-storm]

NIGHTMARE ;  drabble

It started with a flash of lightning so bright that it was blinding, painting the entire world a featureless white in an instant. It was gone as quick as it came and color flooded back into the world, and only then did Ghoa realize exactly where she was standing.

Deep, dark blue waters stretched for malms unending toward the horizon. Waves crashed against a dark cliff face jutting out into the sea, sending plumes of gray-white foam high into the air. Soft, wet sand rested below her feet, turning to rocky pebble further upshore and finally to a lush, verdant green that carpeted the entirety of the fertile inner coastlands. A beach from her memory;  not from her travels, but of home.

Except she didn't see it, not truly. A sense of recognition sparked familiarity, and memory had painted the picture from there. Only now, the usually serene beach from her mind's eye was being battered by heavy sheets of rain and roaring gales. Damp strands of her hair to whipped angrily about her, stinging her wind-reddened cheeks where they struck. Above her, a bright blue sky had given way to a ceiling of dark, angry clouds. Each time lightning arced across the sky, a peal of thunder like the roar of some ferocious beast rolled out over the waves.

Ghoa had never been afraid of any storm before, not even when she had been but a child. If anything, they had always brought about a deep sense of wonder and excitement and a sort of comforting familiarity within her. But now, as she watched the weather rage around her, apprehension and uncertainty began to twist her stomach into uneasy knots. Something was wrong.

Another bolt struck close by, bathing the beach in light, leaving the air almost crackling with static and smelling faintly of sweet ozone. Right on its heels came a clap of thunder so loud that she couldn't help but to flinch and recoil, hands rising to her horns.

Yet this time when her eyes opened and her hands dropped back to her sides, she was no longer standing there alone.

A handful of paces further upshore, a trio of Xaela stood. The rains made it near impossible to discern fine detail from her distance, but Ghoa could tell from their garments and their weapons that they were hunters. Her feet suddenly began to move forward in slow and careful steps, drawn in by some inexplicable compulsion. The closer she drew, still no flash of recognition came to her. Their faces, after all, were utterly bereft of features. Only an eerily smooth expanse of skin and scale covered where eyes, nose, mouth should have been.

However, there was something that she recognized now that she was close enough to see more clearly. Their leathers and their weapons bore the color and sigil of the Kharlu.

A cold, fearful shudder ran down her spine at the realization. Even though the only discernible movement she could see from them was the steady rise and fall of their chests with breath, even if none made any move towards her, her instinct still told her to flee. Despite it, her legs remained stubbornly still, as if frozen in place. She stared up at them in silence with wide, petrified eyes and they stared sightlessly and impassively back down at her.

Once more the lightning lit the sky and the world around them. Only now, the faceless hunters weren't looking to her. No, their heads were tilted downwards to something on the ground between them. Her own gaze slowly shifted downwards to follow.

Even before Ghoa could fully take in the sight, a part of her knew between the cloyingly thick and coppery scent of blood filling her nose and a touch of intuition aside. A gut feeling so full of dread that it couldn't be anything else. But when her mind finally managed to process it, her legs collapsed beneath her.

"No, no, no.."

Her voice was hardly more than a whisper, and she could couldn't even hear it in her own ears above the swiftly intensifying gales around her. A smattering of arrows had embedded deep into his back, causing the sand below him to pool and run in a sickening, dark crimson. Her shaking hands reached out to him, and an anguished cry left her lips the moment her fingers touched his deathly cold flesh. Too late, a distant voice called from the recesses of her mind. Gone. He's gone.

A wailing sob rose from between her lips as she fell forward, hands grasping at Lehko'a's body as she pressed her forehead against the scarred, and now bloodied, flesh of his back. Her whole body shook with the tears that flooded her eyes and the breathless aching in her lungs. The rain fell harder still and with it came an unnatural chill.

"Look at what you've done."

The voice was close and clear as crystal despite the rain and wind, as if had been murmured right against her horn in an empty room. Ghoa's attention snapped upwards at the unexpected, jarring words. Her tear-streaked face turned in the direction it had come from -- or what she had thought was its point of origin. Yet all that was present behind her were more sand and the sea beyond and the raging storm clouds blacking out the sky. Perplexed, distraught, she turned to look the other way. Still, nothing.

"Look at what you've done."

The voice was even louder this time, more insistently, and this time brought with it vague recognition. A woman's voice, familiar to her and yet.. It was right there at the tip of her tongue, but still, Ghoa could no sooner place whom it belonged to than she could find where it was coming from. All the same, the demand in that voice had her head snapping forward again in its apparent direction, her eyes falling back down to Lehko'a's prone body.

"Look at what you've done," the voice repeated, calmer this time. As it continued, it made no effort to hide the naked contempt in its words. "Poor, unfortunate soul. Did he even realize that he was just another expendable piece in these deadly games you are so terribly fond of playing?"

"No," Ghoa gasped, finally finding her voice again in protest. "No, it wasn't like that at all!" She didn't look up to try to find the voice this time, instead focusing her gaze on the Keeper in front of her. Her voice cracked with her next words. "I.. I love him. It wasn't any sort of sick game. It wasn't anything like that.."

Laughter bubbled up from the ethereal voice, cold and humorless and harsh enough to make the Xaela flinch.

"Are you so sure, Ghoa?" the voice insisted once the laughter died, a sharp edge to its tone. "You play this game so often.. Whispering sweet words into their ears, making them believe that you care, until they're so tightly wrapped around your finger that they would do anything for you. Until they so adore and cherish you that they would give their life for yours."

"No, it's not--"

"Or perhaps you've just grown so skilled in playing that you've even got yourself fooled? What a sick irony." A pause, and bitterness flooded the words that followed. "Did you convince yourself of the same when it was me whose body you were crouched over, I wonder?"

Another blinding flash robbed the world of form and detail for but an instant, and when it returned to focus, the body in front of Ghoa lingered. Only.. it was different. Mousy brown hair was replaced with shortly shorn locks of midnight. One furred ear and its mangled counterpart been swapped for two small, rounded hyuran ears instead. The broad figure of the man had given way to the smaller body of a lithe woman. This person was no longer Lehko'a, but another entirely whose appearance caused Ghoa's breath to immediately hitch in her throat.

Ino looked exactly how she remembered her. Not from the good times that they had shared, full of life and laughter and excitement and love. All of those memories had become overshadowed by the very last:  the sight of her collapsing into a bleeding heap on the roadside as she had tried to get her back to the safety of Kugane. Her skin no longer warm porcelain, but ghastly pale and icy to the touch. The wit and mischief gone from her dark, dull eyes. Eyes that now stared, cold and lifeless, back at her.

"Look at what you did to me," the voice -- Ino's voice -- continued, thick with accusation. "Another pawn laying down its life to keep its beloved, crafty Queen safe. You let me die for you, to save you from the consequences of playing more foolish games with Hisanobu, and then you left me there alone."

"I didn't want to leave you!" Ghoa sobbed in answer, more sorrow and regret in her voice than her usual stubbornness. "I wanted to stay, but you told me to go! You told me to run!"

"And you believed me?" Ino's voice hissed sharply. "You honestly thought that I wanted to die there, cold and alone?" She clucked her tongue chidingly. "No... No. You're too smart for that, Ghoa. You knew I was afraid, but you abandoned me anyway. Because you don't care. No one has ever been more important to you than you. No one ever will be."

No answer or protest came this time. She only straightened from her place slumped over the other woman in anguish, hands rising to press against her face, to hold in the cries that bubbled up from the very pits of her despair at the dead woman's torturous accusations. She couldn't even defend herself. Maybe Ino was right after all. Maybe she really was just that good at what she did, manipulating even herself into thinking she cared more than she truly did.

"I'm dead because of you, and now so is Lehko'a," she pressed on, unrelenting. "So, tell me.. Who now, Ghoa? Who will be next?"

The lightning returned, and once more the figure in front of her changed. Ino had disappeared and in her place laid another. A tall Xaela man with long black hair, his hands only barely wrapped around the haft of an axe. Another flash, and the body changed again. Still Xaela but far smaller, a woman whose normally warm and cheerful golden eyes had turned dreadfully flat and hazy in the cold clutches of death.

"You convince us that you care for us, that you love us.. Do you even know what love and caring truly are? What they mean? How could you?"

The next arc of lightning came quicker on the heels of the last, and the clash of thunder accompanying it grew louder, more fierce in kind. Now the body belonged to a hyuran man with his bloodied sword knocked out of his stiff, reaching fingers. Another flash of white, and now wild, wet red hair was plastered to the freckled face of a hyuran woman, eyes fixed on Ghoa with a disapproving glare even in death.

"You'll never stop playing your cruel little game, will you? Why would you when it's not your own life you're wagering? You've nothing to lose, unlike us," Ino spat. "Where does it end, Ghoa? Or will it ever..?"

Once more the lightning came and went, and this time bodies scattered the beach around her as far as the eye could see in either direction. So many dead, so many lives cut woefully short because of her, that Ghoa couldn't even hope to count them all. Her head rolled back, her hands rising to press the heels of her palms against her eyes to block the sight. But even in the darkness, she could still see it clearly in her mind's eye, an inescapable sight that pulled a maddening scream from her.

"Look at what you've done, little bird," that voice called to her again, heavy with pain and sorrow and disgust. But it wasn't Ino's voice now. In the blink of an eye that it took her to pull her hands from her face and look back down, all the bodies had disappeared again, save for the very first. Lehko'a's mismatched eyes stared up, empty and unfocused, at her.

"I'm sorry," she answered in a choked whisper. "I didn't.. I didn't mean for this.."

"Monster," the voice snarled. "No better than him..."

"No better than.. who..?" she whispered.

The voice didn't answer. Confused, Ghoa's gaze rose, back up to the faceless hunters. Their attention had once more shifted, and now they stared forward at something past her. Slowly, she turned to see what it was.

No sooner did her turn complete than did a large, strong hand snap outwards like a viper strike to close tightly around her neck. Her eyes grew wide as her husband glared down at her.

"Monster," Bayanbataar repeated in a cold, hateful sneer, his grip around her neck tightening. "We deserve one another."