an echo of loneliness and a growing hope
summary: Y'shtola worries about her friend being sent to fight alone again.
pairing: Corisande Ymir & Y'shtola Rhul
word count: 525 | rating: G| read on ao3
notes: spoilers for the post-ARR patches. Technically just friendship but I was sowing Corishtola seeds, if you will.
A cool evening breeze blows through the grounds of the Ceruleum Processing Plant. Y’shtola wraps her arms around herself, shivering slightly as she listens to Yuyuhase deliver their orders.
“Seeing as you’re an army unto yourself,” he says to Corisande, “I’ve assigned you your own areas to scour clean of enemy soldiers.”
Y’shtola bristles, a sharp, irritated flick of her tail, but she keeps her silence. How many times has she heard this same sentiment since meeting Corisande? How often has she watched them sent to fight alone, all because they are capable of handling themself? Far too often for her liking, though there is little she can do about it.
Especially not now, when they both have jobs to do. Y’shtola and the other Scions are to go with the Crystal Braves 4th regiment and prevent the Garlean forces from reaching the Ceruleum Processing Plant, allowing Moenbryda to conduct her experiments with crystals in the surrounding area. Corisande will take up with the 3rd regiment, before splitting from them to take out a few groups of Imperial soldiers on her own.
She closes her eyes against the surging instinct to protect them. It will not serve either of them well here.
When she opens her eyes, Corisande cuts a lone figure against the dark horizon, the blue crystals of their Ironworks gear glowing in the night. Visage hardened into a grim expression, hair blowing gallantly in the breeze as the moonlight coalesces around them, they look every inch the hero Eorzea knows them to be and very little like Y’shtola’s dear friend. Loneliness echoes in her chest at the sight.
She approaches Corisande and touches their elbow lightly—always their elbow, avoiding the flinch that comes when she touches their wrist ever since the day they defeated the Rhitahtyn sas Arvina. She tilts her head down to meet Y’shtola’s gaze, and a myriad of things to say run through her head. You should not have to do this alone. Please be careful. I will come with you.
Y’shtola squeezes their elbow gently. “Take care, Corisande. We will see each other again soon enough.”
Corisande smiles, small, gentle, genuine—a smile Y’shtola is well familiar with by now—and the weight in her chest eases slightly. “It’s only a few imperials. We’ll be back at the Rising Stones before you know it.”
Y’shtola nods, a smile growing at Corisande’s ever-present optimism. She releases them, turning her back to follow the other Scions, but she cannot stop herself from casting a look over her shoulder as she goes. Corisande still glows against the horizon, but Y’shtola can see the smile on their face as they nod at her.
She turns back, forging ahead toward the 4th regiment and away from her friend. The weight of concern is lighter now, though as always she cannot shake the last remnants of worry from her heart completely. But her hope grows with each step she takes, reminding her that Corisande’s reputation is not unearned.
She will see Corisande again, as she has every other time they have had to walk alone. She cannot let go of that hope now.
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Team Lombardy has me quite convinced of Duman's origins
Public opinions are entering the scene! That is one solid, not so anonymous vote for Lombardy!! But I have already received the next entry from Florence, they're not going down without a fight. And they shouldn't. This is funny.
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Anyway if you start feeling like a song from midnights it's time to go to bed xx
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Every time i purchase a moderately expensive item the Karl Marx on my shoulder is like "For shame... you purchase yet another pair of jeans when you have 5 already at home, you despicable commodity fetishist? In my time, a man with five outfits would consider himself blessed beyond measure, and yet you want for more, while there are children starving in the world??" to which the second Karl Marx on my other shoulder says "Objection! Those 5 pairs of jeans all wildly uncomfortable or have holes in the ass, due to the decline of clothing quality driven by the fast fashion industry, unfortunately making this purchase a necessity... Plus, by purchasing a slightly more expensive pair of jeans from an independent brand, seeking quality over 'brand recognition', they are deliberately trying to avoid engaging in conspicuous consumption!" to which the third Karl Marx clinging to my back like that beetle from Doctor Who says "Remember, my friend; the less you eat, drink, buy books, go to the theatre or to balls, or to the pub, and the less you think, love, theorize, sing, paint, fence, etc., the more you will be able to save and the greater will become your treasure which neither moth nor rust will corrupt — your capital. Buy the jeans," to which I say "I don't know if any of you have actually read Karl Marx"
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advice i think we should tell children is that when adults say stuff like ‘now that i’m an adult i get really excited about stuff like coffee tables and bathrooms and rugs etc’ they don’t mean ‘and now i don’t care about blorbo and squimbus from my childhood tv shows anymore’ bc your average adult still loves all the same pop culture stuff they always did; they just have a greater appreciation for the mundane as well. growing up just means you can enjoy life twice as much now. you can get really excited about a new stuffed animal AND about a new kitchen sponge. peace and love
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