#rinha'li

[blackrose-ffxiv]

5. Barbarous

"You are a vile, feral little backwater heathen." Lebeaux spat the accusations through bloodied lips. "A barbarous beast playing at being spoken." Despite the crimson streaked along his teeth and mouth, he seemed less concerned with that and far more concerned with scrubbing green-black bile spattered across his expensive white coat jacket. At least he assumed it was bile, considering it had been expelled from the maw of a carbuncle that was far less 'construct' and far more free-form aether experiment gone horrifically wrong. "Unfit for society, polite or otherwise. Drag yourself and your abomination back to your swamp, Rinha'li."

A few steps away that eldritch summon shivered and quaked in an unsettling wobbling motion as it stood sentinel between Lebeaux and a miqo'te clutching his hand to his chest as he pressed flat against a bookshelf. The arcanist's richly furred colorpoint ears were pinned flat against unkempt hair similarly two-toned in black and white. Large, round glasses sat askew on his nose and the look on his face was exasperation rather than fear. Bright green eyes wide with confused annoyance. The string of insults were nothing new, it was practically how the Ishgardian greeted the Keeper at this point. But the cause of it was irksome, to say the least.

Rinha'li lowered his uninjured hand from the one he was coddling, thrusting it forwards to display the crescent of bloodied tears in his skin along the edge of his hand.

"I am the b-b-beast?!" He demanded. "For d-d-defending myself with a c-construct?!" As Rinha'li spoke, Lebeaux mocked him under his breath. Tittering along after the stuttering that had grown more pronounced in the voidmath's agitation.

"You b-bit me."

@black-omen-born

[klynk-klank]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY NERD(catte)

@black-omen-born

[blackrose-ffxiv]

@black-omen-born @cellardoor-ffxiv

Journal Entry #5

Nineteenth Sun of the Fourth Astral–

I think I have made a mistake.

Keep reading

[black-omen-born]

6 -- Nonagenarian

Recorder Ehco was the oldest person in the settlement, and as a rule Rinha'li avoided her. She was wise, and well-liked by the local spirits (or so he heard -- they wouldn't exactly speak to him even if he tried, as they spoke to so few), so he had always presumed she would share the opinions of the priests and his mothers' peers -- that the disasters attending his birth had been omens, that his halting tongue and his strange habits and weak constitution were all proof of it.

If Rinha'li was forced to pick a circumstance under which to first exchange words with the eldest member of his tribe, "at the bottom of a collapsed dry riverbed" would not have been his first choice. And yet, here they were.

Ehco peered over the edge of the bank down at him. The walls were too muddy to climb -- he was good at climbing, despite his many faults -- so, after falling, he had sat down in the silt to consider what to do. Her walking stick, whittled into intricate patterns during the long hours of an old woman's idleness, tested the soil at the edge of the small cliff to make sure it would hold her weight before she stepped foward -- a precaution Rinha'li had neglected to take.

"You're Rinha's boy," she said. It wasn't a question -- everyone knew Rinha the metalworker, and as a result everyone knew her unfortunate third son.

"Forg-g-give m-me," Rinha'li began, praying his uncooperative voice would do as he asked just this once. "I fell, and I c-c-c--"

"Yes. I can see that," Ehco said. "You can't get out. I can't help you, I'm afraid. Brittle old bones." Her words were terse and harsh, but without malice. She simply sounded tired.

Rinha'li decided this was good enough.

"Can you g-g-go--"

"Fetch someone to pull you out?" She seemed to have no time for his stammering, but at least she also seemed to know what he was saying. "Oh, I shall. But it's a long stroll for an old hunter like me, so you'll have to settle in for a spell." She laughed, a crackling cackle like a carrion bird's call. "Hope you like mud."

"I d-d-don't m-mind."

Recorder Ehco stood for a moment, looking down at Rinha'li with an inscrutable expression on her wrinkled face that might have been a smile. "Your talking's terrible, boy" she said. "Do you want to learn to write?"

Rinha'li's ears went up. "I--I--" he sputtered. He wasn't struggling to force words past his lips -- he simply did not know what to say.

"Don't think I'm doing you a favor," she went on, leaning on her stick. "I've seen a few like you. Bad omens. Marked ones. They all met bad ends, just as you will, though I doubt I'll live to see it." She laughed again, as though all this were very funny. "Just thought we might as well get some use out of you before it."

Rinha'li didn't attempt to answer out loud -- he only nodded, so enthusiastically his ears flopped this way and that.

"Mark my words, though," Recorder Ehco said, turning to go. "I doubt I'm doing you a favor. Like as not, with your stars, you'll just find something out there you wish you hadn't read."

And with that, she vanished into the woods towards their settlement, leaving Rinha'li alone again, up to his shins in silt.

[klynk-klank]

Too fluffy, too powerful

Gift art of Rin (@black-omen-born) that’s vaguely seasonally themed but not too much. I tried to give him a much uglier scarf than this, but my eyes started bleeding …

[blackrose-ffxiv]

Sowing Strife 10/02

Atlan Lanning heard the door open before he recognized the voice, and upon realizing who was there he made a not-so-valiant effort at trying not to cringe behind the curtain. Atlan groaned. Daijiro would have his head if he didn't do his job properly, so he stepped out into view to greet their guest. "...Lebeaux," he bowed politely to the man. "What can I do for you?"

Lebeaux Desrosiers tilted his head slightly as it wasn’t Kareem who passed through the curtain, but rather another familiar face. “Ah! The Dhavhas’ pet.” He declared as he reached up to remove his hat and held it out to the other, expecting him to hang it up for him. “Are your masters about, by any chance. It would be fortunate to have an opportunity to speak with either of them. A cup of tea as well. Hmm, Atlan, if I recall correctly?”

Atlan just....took Lebeaux's hat without putting up a fight and hung it on the rack behind him. He couldn't argue the fact that he was closer to it anyway. "Nooo, they are not," he answered after mumbling something incoherent under his breath. "I'm one of the hosts here. Believe it or not, I don't follow after Rin and Saerdha everywhere. And yes, my name is Atlan. Same as usual?" He did remember what Lebeaux usually requested when he visited the agency, at least. "There's more of a selection here.”

Lebeaux tilted his head as though shocked by that. “Is that quite allowed, that you should be out and about without them?” He mused as he made his way over to the couch and made himself comfortable. “I do hope that necklace you’re wearing is a return address tag should you wander too far.” He teased as he settled onto the cushions and tutted quietly. “For shame. Out without chaperone or leash.” He smiled sweetly at Atlan. “There was a particularly nice Ishgardian brandy on my last visit, "I’ll have some of that one the side.”

"...Any leash that's on me isn't being worn for public purposes anyway," Atlan shot back. "I heard you were a member now, so your choice of alcohol is free," he disappeared for a moment behind the curtain. Atlan didn't drink much himself, but he'd been there long enough to familiarize himself with Daijiro's massive selection of teas, coffees, and alcoholic beverages. "I think both of them might survive without me. Maybe."

Lebeaux smiled softly in amusement as he made himself comfortable, his right hand held carefully in his lap. “Though, I suppose perhaps moving from one pen to another is safe enough. Not as though you’re able to wander very far here.” He mused thoughtfully. “You’ve taken a bit of a sharper edge since we last spoke.” He noted in passing once the other elezen returned. “Something the matter?”

"Not at all," he smiled back at Lebeaux, "...Other than how I worry for Rinha'li, but," his smiled faded some as he handed Lebeaux his cup and saucer of hot tea and poured a half glass of the Ishgardian brandy on the side. "But, I also know Rin. He does what he does because he wants to, not because he's forced. That doesn't mean I trust your intentions, though." Atlan took a seat beside the man and waited to see if the tea was to his liking before he carried on the conversation.

Lebeaux tutted quietly again as he took the cup of tea and the serving of brandy. He set the tea down and sipped at the brandy first, tasting it to ensure it was of the same bottle as his prior visit. Satisfied with that, he tilted the glass to add its contents to the tea cup. “Oh, but it’s been some time since I brought him home bloodied and battered.” He noted calmly. “You surely don’t still begrudge me that incident? He's made a full recovery since.”

"I meant the more recent expedition," Atlan clarified. "Like I said, I know anything that happens is probably purely Rin's choice, and I can't change that. He's stubborn, but I want to know what happened." Atlan leaned forward in his seat, wringing his hands nervously. He wasn't so put off by Lebeaux this time that he failed to be as articulate as he wanted to be, but he was still anxious around the Ishgardian.

Lebeaux tilted his head slightly as he set down the glass and lifted the cup by its saucer, settling it into his lip so he could lift and sip using his left hand. He watched the other’s gestures as he fidgeted and leaned. “Ah, so you were told that there was a recent expedition. Yet he didn’t see fit to fill in all of the little details? Why would you ask me. I’ve no desire to sow strife in your happy little home.” He explained with that same saintly smile.

"He has his reasons for trying to protect me," Atlan shrugged. "I've pieced together some of it from what I know from him and Marvik. I know what Rin wants, in the end...It's always been something of an obsession with him. What do you get out of it? Something tells me you're not lending a hand out of the goodness of your pure heart, Lebeaux."

“Then perhaps we can help each other, Atlan.” He suggested calmly before he took another sip of the fortified tea. “I don’t know what Rinha’li wants. I knew full well that is agreement to assist was simply a means to his own ends. Yet I still don’t understand what those ends were.” He explained slowly. “If you would like to enlighten me as to some of his motivations, I would be more than happy to give you a full report on our activities in Amdapor.”

Atlan looked uncertain about that arrangement, but he did worry about the miqo'te; enough that he appeared to be giving it some thought as he looked away from Lebeaux and stared instead at the bottle of brandy resting in front of them on the table. Which decision was more dangerous? "...A powerful creature from the void has always had something of a grip on him, whether it was... real or just by fascination. He's always wanted to find ways to get closer to it; to control what we don't understand about their power. If he was there, it's because of his need for knowledge about him and the Amdapori people," he answered with clear hesitation. "...I want to help him, one way or another. I just don't know how."

Lebeaux smiled serenely as he listened. He had his own suspicions and this did confirm some of them. Yet it also brought up some new questions. “This voidsent being, he has had contact with it before and fully intends to establish contact again in the future?” He asked. “It seems to be a grander scale than your day to day nuisances. Something too large to go unnoticed for too long, save for when it’s locked away under a dead city. Do you suspect he wishes to bring it to our realm?”

"Yes, in fact that was how he and Saerdha got to know each other. Saerdha has...a habit of rescuing people with those kinds of connections," his smile returned briefly thinking on the magister's kindness. "If he ever did accomplish a connection like that, I honestly don't know what he would do. Rin doesn't believe that anything we don't understand is innately evil, and I agree with him. All I know is...he's stubborn enough to keep on going until he gets clear answers."

“As I suspected. I had formed the opinion that Rinha’li had some sort of contact ‘beyond’ and I was curious what would happen if we were to follow the threads towards that contact.” He explained calmly in between sips of tea. “A mentor of mine had a similar experience and was driven mad by it. I gave his notes and writings to Rinha’li to see what he could make of it and he came to the conclusion that we would find our answers at Amdapor.” He set the cup down and refilled it with straight brandy before he resumed sipping. “Yet there was nothing there. No ‘doors’ they kept going on about. No presence, save for the spiteful shade of my mentor. It was a bust.”

Atlan snatched up the empty glass he'd brought for himself, but he didn't fill it with brandy. He turned it in his hands, focusing on the light reflecting off of it rather than making direct eye contact with the elezen while he listened to his explanation. "Let me help," he said at last, still clutching the glass. "There might be a way I can, and even if I don't trust you, I'd feel better being able to do what Rin needs to succeed, whatever that means in the end. You must know things. You have connections. He wouldn't even have to know that I was helping you and him from the shadows."

Lebeaux paused with the cup partway to his lips before he lowered it again. “Allowing him to succeed would mean inviting a potentially problematic entity into our realm to wreak havoc as it pleases.” He noted. It would also be a generous helping of heresy, but so long as he wasn’t actually watching or helping directly, what was the harm. “It want to ensure there will be a measure of control. What can you do to help.” He asked, settling his icy pale gaze on the blonde. “Ensure we have an acceptable cup of tea waiting for when we return?” He suspected Atlan of hiding something as well, since their very first meeting. Now he was sure of it, but whatever could it be…

Atlan hesitated again. He didn't like the way Lebeaux always looked like he knew something but kept up such a convincing veil of innocence that one could never quite be certain. He opened his mouth to speak several times before finally settling on what he wanted to say. "I have my own connections," he answered cautiously. "If I were to lend them to your cause, I need a promise from you. Saerdha's peers in Ul'dah can't know. He's broken enough laws already keeping Rinha'li and I safe. You're his... friend, aren't you?" the word felt odd rolling off his tongue in this case. "I'm asking to protect him more than myself."

Lebeaux considered that silently as he sipped his vaguely-tea tinted brandy. Waiting patiently for Atlan to speak. He was in no hurry, so he waited for the boy to frame the words the way he thought would suit them best. Rather than speaking plainly, the blond opted for the polite version. “All of this is rather uncharted territory. At the very least it’s looked down upon, in the most severe cases it’s heresy and dark arts in all the City States.” He explained calmly, by way of assuring he had a very vested interest in this all remaining quiet. “I’ve no interest for our work to be brought to the light. The ends will justify the mans but that would require we achieve a satisfactory ending, which would preclude being arrested or murdered by vigilante hunters. What sort of contacts can you offer to such a cause.”

Atlan thought Lebeaux's words through. It was true that what they'd been doing—the expedition, all of it—would be frowned upon by almost everyone else. It wouldn't do the man any good to out himself in the process. Logically, he felt some semblence of safety knowing this, but it was still difficult to tell anyone his secret, especially someone he didn't particularly like. "A contact Marvik very nearly killed me for, on accident, of course. He didn't know any better when it tried to feed off him," he began, trying to gauge Lebeaux's reaction before he dared to dive further down that rabbit hole.

Lebeaux wrinkled his nose in disgust at the implication. Atlan’s contact was within his body. Making him… possessed for lack of a better word. “I see. That explains quite a bit now about several things. Another layer is lifted away.” He took a long sip of brandy as though to wash the taste of that out of his mouth. “It is a powerful contact? How firm is your control of it.”

Atlan expected something along those lines from his initial reaction, and he hardly flinched at the look. In fact, he looked somewhat relieved Lebeaux hadn't fled. "At first, it nearly drove me mad, but it's been years. Like any of them I suppose its power relies on how much it feeds, but that's rare, and never on a person," he shook his head. "Still, it's been useful on multiple investigations. We can speak to each other. It senses things, and Rinha'li has...an uncanny ability to put it in its place when I do allow it to have control."

Lebeaux snickered quietly into his cup at that. “Rinha’li, the monster whisperer.” He joked lightly. “How droll. In any case, I do suppose that puts you in a rather unique position to assist us. Even if it isn’t outright. Very well. I shall endeavor to keep you apprised of the situation so long as you do what you can to keep Rinha’li sympathetic to my cause and cooperative. He’s taken on something of a stubborn streak lately and it’s growing tiresome.”

@sedatayuun @black-omen-born

[blackrose-ffxiv]

Book of Shadows 07/24

Lebeaux Desrosiers gestured for the others to follow him further along, passing over the office and the clinic to settle himself on his usual perch. He patted the cloth-and-rosary-wrapped book that was already waiting on the ledge.

“Um...if...if I m-may ask, what is the nature of the beaded cord you use t-to bind the book? Is it enchanted? Rinha'li Dhavha: It looks like...“ Rinha’li Dhavha trailed off, looking for a specific word.   

"You may. It's a Halonic Rosary. It's blessed, which I suppose is rather like enchanting it. It seemed a solid precaution." Lebeaux explained as he began unwrapping said protection.

“Oh, yes, um -- Rosary. That was the term.” Rinha'li leans forward, obviously wanting to touch the book but thinking better of it. For now.  

Geofferaut Derosiers followed Lebeaux, but came up short, eyes darting. There seemed to be some confusion about which location was best to stand, better view of the book or better view of the various exits.

Lebeaux didn’t seem particularly concerned about Geoff’s minor conflict of interests. He tucked the rosary into his pocket then slid the cloth-wrapped item towards Rinha’li. He instead picked up a cup and saucer, busying himself with tea without offering it to the others. Assuming Geoff wasn’t thirsty and Rin had other concerns.

Geofferaut's twitchy fingers found rest against the cover of his own book and settled on the appropriate vantage point.

Rinha'li unwraps the cloth delicately, and as fast as he can without risking damage to a potentially delicate object.

Geofferaut watched the book emerge like a lioness watches a gazelle limp to a watering hole.

The grimoire is old, but not ancient. Perhaps 10-15 years, mistreated for many of them. The leather is weathered and cracked, but not nearly as much so as an item that spent the last year or so at the bottom of a mud puddle should be. It seemed the muck hadn’t touched it at all. The lock latch no longer works. Standard issue for those in service to the Tribunal though someone had taken care to sand or dissolve away those distinguishing embellishments and embossing. There is definitely something -off- about it. The moment the enchanted cloth is unwrapped there’s a brief rippling. Or possibly a bit of dust floating across the eye, hard to tell as it was gone in a blink either way.

Rinha'li carefully opens it up to the first page to see what it contains -- if the previous owner had perhaps left an index, or introduction -- wincing slightly as the leather creaks in his grasp. But, books are sturdier things than many realize, and nothing breaks. "You s-say this was...lying at the bottom of a brackish pond or puddle?" he asks.

There is indeed an index of the standard issue geometries that came with the grimoire. Filling in the first quarter of the book with the same sort of spells one would find in any acanists’ text. The next quarter is home-made theories and accompanying geometries scattered with notes and observations in no discernable order. 

“That’s being generous as to the water content, to call it a puddle or pond. It was mud. A sinkhole, essentially.” Lebeaux glanced over, noting that Geoff had been staring at the tome for longer than he usually stared at anything. “Feel free to have a look as well, I’m sure Rin won’t mind. While you two are doing that, did you bring the contracts I told you to draw up?”

"No." Geofferaut addressed the book.

"Did you draw them up at all?"

"Yes." Geofferaut continued to address the book.

"... Lot of good they're doing sitting in your basement."

“O-oh, I mean, I have a copy of...of a standard client confidentiality agreement on hand at all times... “ Rinha'li offered, obviously distracted wtih the book. He scans the arcanima glyphs for interesting variants, but eagerly ends up flipping to the more experimental sections. Here, he traces his finger over some of the ink, feeling where the quill has dented the paper, leaning closer to see if he can discern the composition of the pigments.  

Geofferaut only breathed because it's an involuntary function of his body. Blinking seemed to have stopped.

“I asked him to draw up a non-disclosure agreement regarding our research. Essentially that no information will be shared with outside parties without the consent of all three of us.” Lebeaux noted. “Technically it should be my decision as I am the one who is organizing this project.” He took a moment to preen the cuffs of his sleeves and let that sink in. “Yet I thought it polite to share the credit since the two of you are doing most of the heavy lifting.”

The spells start in your standard inks, mixtures of heavy metals and a liquid but as they progress they begin to rely solely on blood mixtures from varying sources. Sometimes the same glyph written in several different variations. There was a heavy emphasis on the slow draining of health or vitality from the target in various forms. Restoratives or protective magicks abandoned within the last few chapters. The end of the book was upside down. The original owner had reversed the book to begin taking notes from back to front. It was a lot of nonsense to Lebeaux, punctuated with sketches of towers and walls and terrible attempts at poetry.

Rinha'li's hand rests on the sketches of a long, tall tower with haphazardly placed windows and thin catwalks issuing from it. The artist -- Lebeaux's mentor, presumably -- has attempted to indicate its immense height by surrounding it with dark charcoal scribblings, punctuated by a few hazy cloud shapes. No moon, no stars, and certainly no sun. "...did your mentor, um...c-complain of trouble sleeping? S...strange dreams?" he asks cautiously, not knowing what question will offend.

Lebeaux sniffed and took a sip of his tea. “We weren’t particularly close, you may just call him Ciceroix as I don’t suspect I learned enough from him to actually call him a mentor.” It was just easier than calling him the overzealous inquisitor he used to clean up after. “He seemed distracted, towards the end of our association. Possibly signs of exhaustion, could have been due to trouble sleeping.” Certainly not due to a guilty conscience.

“I know this tower.” Rinha'li says simply. “Have you ever seen it, Mister Lebeaux? Mister Geofferaut?”

"No." Geofferaut replied.

Lebeaux lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I haven’t entered the City. I was outside of the gates but I didn’t go in, nor did I notice any towers. Assuming that it is, actually, Amdapori?”

Rinha'li nods. "W-well...it's...it's quite...it's in the center of the city. It...c-cannot be seen from the outside, even though it's so tall it nearly reaches the sky...I...I d-don't know why, exactly. The white tower. The Sanctum of Dreams."

Lebeaux wrinkled his nose slightly. He reached over, gloved fingers flipping through some of the earlier portions of the grimoire, before the Inquisitor had the clever idea of hiding the crazy in the last pages. Around the same time the arcanima started to get extremely experimental and were mostly marked as failures, there were images embedded in the geometries mirroring the general shapes of the tower. “Sanctum of Dreams. What a pretentious name.” He sniffed. “So you believe he began to dream of this place and that is what finally pushed him over the edge?”

Geofferaut leaned forward when the experimental arcanima began to feature once more.

Rinha'li turns the next page very slowly, to reveal several lines of metrically complex but imaginatively bankrupt attempts at religious poetry framing rough drawings of a series of doors, each marked with an arcanima glyph. Rinha'li closes his eyes, worrying his bottom lip with his fangs at this sight. "I am near convinced," he says. Rinha'li has taken on a hushed, excited tone. He's happy to see this mad scrawling.  

“Didn’t excuse him from running off, but I suspect there’s some merit to what you’re saying.” Lebeaux didn’t particularly care either way. Looking at the book and its images too long was giving him something of a headache. He pinched the bridge of his nose, sliding glasses up and closing his eyes. “He thought he was hearing the ghosts of Amdapor and went trotting off to the Shroud to find some secrets to divine power.”

The scribbled line of marked doors might have passed for some kind of allegory, but as Rin leafs through the next few pages of experimental calculations, it's clear that doors of some kind were on the man's mind. They appear in the margins, as though it was something his mind returned to when idle and flowed out of his pen as unthinking scribbles. "Divine power, yes. Hm. D-divine indeed. I...did he ever t-try any experiments with his arcanima in your presence? Rinha'li's tail sweeps back and forth in wide, quick arcs.

Lebeaux shook his head, still rubbing at his nose. He finally gave up on the glasses, folding them up and tucking them away into his coat. No point to them around these two anyways. “I generally waited outside.” His hands settled on the teacup once again as he smiled primly at the miqo’te. “I offered you a look at the book previously yet I’m no longer feeling particularly inclined to give you further information. Seeing as you seem unable to grasp the concept of keeping your mouth shut.”

Geofferaut speaks under apparent duress, teeth gritted shut, lips barely parted, voice strained. "An. swer..."

Rinha'li's ears tilt towards Geofferaut. "...I-- I b-beg your pardon?"

Lebeaux looked quickly over at Geofferaut, somewhat startled by the reaction. He blinked blankly, the smile stuck in place.

Geofferaut does not rip his eyes off the grimoire. There is still an apparent struggle to form and force out words. "answer. the question."

Lebeaux still looked as though he’d been struck, more than a little surprised and perhaps unsettled. “I…” He started before he straightened up. “You’re no better than him, acting as though you’d throw over our research if Idristan asked for it. If I’m going to speak plainly and truthfully to you two I expect assurances that my words will never be repeated to anyone else.” He set the teacup down and folded his arms across his chest, fingers brushing against the rosary he had tucked away into his jacket.

"speak. child. or move." Seemed to be Geofferaut’s final warning.

Rinha'li opens his mouth to say something -- anything that will get him more information here, most likely -- but is cut off by Geoff's strange outburst. He too looks unsettled. "W--what--" He looks at the book again. He hadn't thought Geoff THAT ravenous to get at it...

“Perhaps just show him the book.” Lebeaux suggested as he shifted slightly along his perch a little closer to Rinha’li and the book. He cleared his throat, assuming that was as good as agreement that this remained between them. “Once or twice, when it got a little messy I was called in while he was still working.” He explained, speaking a little more quickly now as fingers curled around the beads as though they would do much of anything in this situation.

Rinha'li's ears flatten against his head, nearly disappearing into his hair. He seems reluctant to have the book leave his immediate vicinity, but he picks it up with the cloth and holds it out to Geoff with his fingers trembling on the spine. "T...tell me more," he mutters to Lebeaux.

Lebeaux remains well away from the book as its held out in offering, clutching his pear- rosary beads lightly under his coat. The smile had long since disappeared as his gaze darted between the grimoire and the other elezen. “Ciceroix was testing his theories on the accused. He was supposed to be interrogating them but it often turned in to experiments. One of the times I was called in he’d… ah, managed to turn someone inside out. There was nothing to be done for them.”

Geofferaut began the motion toward the book with a few rapid, interrupted jerks that smoothed out by the time the tome was in his hands.  Once possessed, the move to the platform is rapid. His own book fluttered open to a blank page beside it - it happened quickly, possibly without much help from his hands - and a pencil, definitely held with fingers, began scratching copies and copies and copies. Geofferaut seemed unconcerned by the proximity or lack thereof to Lebeaux's seat.

“You are C-CERTAIN he accomplished this with arcanima? D-did you see the formulae he--ah--um!” Rinha’li asked hurriedly.

“I’m not sure. There was no one else in there and I didn’t see any tools he could have used for such a thorough-“ Lebeaux trailed off as the book exchanged hands a bit abruptly, with Geofferaut immediately beginning to copy down the books contents, page by page. “Wait, that may be poorly advised. If this drivel drove him to madness what’s to stop it from doing the same to you.” He noted as he reached for the grimoire.

“The--the g-glyphs within ought n-not t-to be aetherically active unless t-transcribed with--with--active inks--um--”  Rinha'li, notably, has not attempted to transcribe anything into HIS notebook, however.  

Geofferaut 's face smoothed as he transcribed. His eyes remained fixed on Ciceroix's book, drawings left to form unobserved - though few would be surprised to learn that they seemed to form just fine without supervision.

Lebeaux slid the book away from Geofferaut, intending to snap it shut again. “It’s the book itself I’m rather wary of. The Hearer I took it from seemed convinced it’s capable of doing some harm on its own.”

Geofferaut dropped his pencil and flicked the now-vacant hand up to intercept Lebeaux's hand's path. But by golly it wasn't so empty. A gleam of metal stopped just shy of touching the sleeve at Lebeaux's wrist. "I do not require the book. I require the geometries."

Rinha'li has also started forward, intending to take a closer look at the book's binding, but also stops short at the wrist flick. For a moment he just stands there stock still, almost afraid to move. “I...I say, is that really necessary?” Rinha'li says, after a moment.

"Yes." Direct questions should be answered.

Lebeaux froze, fingers splayed but not quite touching the book when he saw the flash of metal. Right, the sleeve steel. “Hm.” Fair enough. Slowly he brought his hands back to himself, settling them in his lap to adjust the cuffs and ruffles. “As you like, then.” Perhaps he’d just let them copy it then. “Feel free to make your own copies.” He suggested to Rin. Lebeaux managed to sound only slightly sulky about the entirely situation rather than outright pouting.

 As quickly as it was there, the metal was gone and the pencil was back in motion.

@black-omen-born  @cellardoor-ffxiv

[blackrose-ffxiv]

The Other Other Other Brother? 07/19

Geofferaut Derosiers enters the Tradehouse stiffly. He also closes the door behind him stiffly. And stands stiffly. "Hello Lebeaux Desrosiers." The only parts of him that were animated were his eyes, perpetually scanning the room, and his fingers, flickings and twitching at the ends of his sleeve arhythmically.

Lebeaux Desrosiers had been on his way out. At least until he almost ran squarely into Geofferaut. He cringed internally but smiled sweetly at the statuesque, in the sense of being stiff and unmoving, elezen blocking the door. Perhaps it had been a mistake to give him the work address after all. “Good evening Geofferaut. What a pleasant surprise. I assume you received my gifts?”

"Yes. Probably."  Geofferaut's words lilted as much as he danced in the doorway, which is to say they did not. To call it monotone would imply any tone at all was there.

Idristan Agache meanwhile, had arrived before Geofferaut. Which he was now starting to think was an unfortunate thing, for as he comes up the stairs he finds himself caught between Lebeaux on one side, and a strange elezen blocking the door on the other. He casts Lebeaux a glare out of general principle, then turns to look at Geofferaut, eyes narrowing as the two talked. Just what sort of person would Lebeaux be giving gifts...? "A friend of yours Lebeaux?" he asks, his voice a touch curt.

Lebeaux blinked twice as he tried to figure out what the ‘probably was in reference to. “Will they suffice…” He trailed off at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. To find Idristan of all people. “Ah, I didn’t even know you were around.” The medic declared with a smug smile. “I would have invited you for tea…” He trailed off and looked between the two. “Geofferaut, this is Idristan Agache. One of my assistants.” He explained as he gestured to the whitehaired main. “Idristan this is…” Something clicked and the smile grew larger. “Geofferaut Derosiers.”

"Hello Idristan Agache. It is nice to meet you." Geofferaut recited the line like a child in a play who had been drilled on just those nine words for hours on end.

Idristan gives Lebeaux a scornful look that silently suggested what exactly Lebeaux could do with his tea. He doesn't react at being called an assistant, having apparently decided not to fight that one awhile ago. The name, however, does do the trick. His eyes widen in surprise as he stares at Geofferaut for several moments. Then they narrow as he starts to study Geofferaut hard. His stance has widened slightly, muscles tensing ever so slightly. "A... pleasure, I'm sure," he says, the words sounding extremely forced.

Lebeaux quirked a brow as he waited for the response to that one. Ah, there it was. Idristan did pride himself on being clever didn’t he. Just connected those dots right away, hm. “I did mention that I was enlisting the aid of an expert in my alchemical efforts. Now you’ve met him.” He noted. “Which I suppose would make Geofferaut something of my assistant as well.” He mused cheerfully. “Now you’ve all met. How nice.”

Geofferaut noted the change in stance as well as the six most likely exit routes in case of emergency (ranked several different ways depending on the origin and nature of the threat) as well as the fit of the mens' shoes as well as the wares on display on the shelves. "Oh. Okay."

Idristan finally drags his gaze away from Geofferaut to look at Lebeaux, one brow arched at this. "And he's just fine with that?" he asks, before looking back to Geofferaut. Sizing him up once more. "So he's the one that's been helping you with what you've been working on for me then," he says, his voice a touch flat. "That must be convenient, not having to look hard for an alchemist."

Geofferaut noted Idristan again. Harder. Until he heard the door open and skirted to the side. "Hello Rinha'li Dhavha."

Lebeaux slid over closer to Geofferaut casually. Trying to set his face a little more seriously to make what few similarities there more apparent. It wasn’t working, though. The entire situation was far too amusing. “It’s incredibly convenient. And yes, as he said,” a hand waved lazily towards Idristan. “He suffers from the very condition we’re seeking to treat. He’ll be our subject once we’re ready for live trials.”

Rinha'li Dhavha pokes his head into the door, obviously eager to get started with something. He has a ream of paper bound together with twine in his hands, and a stump of lead tucked behind his ear. His ears swivel around as he sees more faces than he was expecting -- luckily, they are for the most part familiar. "Ah--um--er...hello--Just--just Rin will do, I...um. Other guests?"

"The current subjects are living." Geofferaut corrected flatly.

Idristan was really not sure that he liked how Geofferaut said that, or how he was looking at him. "How... nice for you," he says dryly. He seems rather relieved to find that it's Rin that enters when the door opens, instead of another of Lebeaux's long lost siblings. However, this doesn't last long as he looks sharply back to Geofferaut. "Other subjects?" he repeats, turning it into a question.

“I...is there some kind of...um...meeting?” Rinha’li stuttered.

"Yes. No." Geofferaut answered in order, always in order.

Rinha'li blinks, trying to piece these answers to questions.

Lebeaux lifted his hand to smooth the lapels of his jacket. Well, the gang was all here, huh. “I had some surprise visitors. I assume Geofferaut came by to discuss the gifts I had sent to him. You were invited and Idristan, well he just happened to be lucky enough to meet another Derosiers while passing through.” Yep really lean hard on that same-name.

Rinha'li looks a little surprised. "You sent Mister Geofferaut a gift?" He says this in a tone that suggests he is shocked to hear Lebeaux has given anything to anyone, ever.

Idristan tilts his head slightly to one side, apparently trying to do much the same as Rin. "I see," he says slowly. He seems on the verge of asking more, but is distracted by Lebeaux. "Lucky is perhaps not the word I would have used," he states dryly. From the look on his face, he seems to share Rin's opinion on gifts.

Geofferaut must be Lebeaux's favorite brother.

“I did indeed.” Lebeaux said cheerfully, folding arms across his chest as he all but beamed at the others gathered there. This was incredibly awkward and he was savoring every moment of it. “Rinha’li has been assisting as well, to an extent. Perhaps you’d like to tell them a little more of your condition. They’ve only heard it from me thus far. Surely it’d be worth more straight from the chocobo’s mouth, as it was.” He tilted his head towards the far hallway and his office beyond.

Idristan blinks slowly at that as he looks at Rin, then perhaps relaxes ever so slightly. If Rin was involved, then this couldn't be so bad, right? That didn't mean that he was eager to be trapped in a room with Lebeaux and family, however. He folds his arms, lips twisting downwards into a scowl. "I highly doubt that there's anything more I can tell you that I haven't already," he grumbles.

"I have questions." Geofferaut stated.

@cellardoor-ffxiv  @roses-and-grimoires @black-omen-born

[blackrose-ffxiv]

Curiosity and Cattes 07/12

Rinha'li Dhavha peeks in before actually stepping inside, as though vaguely expecting an ambush. "Are...are you writing?" he asks.

Lebeaux Desrosiers waved Rinha’li in and reached over to pat the spot on the window ledge beside himself. The drapes had already been drawn closed over the windows, leaving the room dark enough to be comfortable for the keeper. Lit only by the candles and soon joined by the gentle glow of Lebeaux’s pipe. “I was marking some final notes. I’ve just finished a little volunteer work over in Limsa Lominsa and wished to record the results while they were still fresh in my mind.”

“V...v-volunteer work?” Rinha'li does not sit down for the moment. He appears to be weighing the pros and cons of this decision

Lebeaux is keeping his hands busy with the pipe and quill for the time being. Though there’s no guarantee they won’t roam after he’s grown bored of smoking. The medic slid the journal out of the way to make room for the miqo’te nonetheless, fingers wiggling airily at the tea set to indicate Rin should help himself. He exhaled a cloud of fragrant smoke. “Geofferaut was being stubborn and holding my precious darlings hostage. I needed to find a handful of subjects that wouldn’t be missed.” Lebeaux explained calmly. “Where better than Limsa. A volunteer term at a free clinic and a few rum-addled sailors later… our research can continue.”

Rinha'li sits down a few solid feet from Lebeaux. "Is it corpses you need, or living subjects?"

“Both, really.”

Rinha'li sniffs at the tea to ascertain it doesn't contain anything unexpected. He wrinkles his nose, though it seems to be more at his thoughts than the scent. "Pirates are easy t-to pay," he says. "You c-can find volunteers out there, I'm sure. Reckless folk with...short enough lives as it is."

The Tea is a simple enough black tea. Though a few liquor bottles sit nearby should one wish to add ‘something unexpected’. His own smells like brandy. Strongly. “A waste of budget. There’s no need to pay them when they’ll sign up willingly, that’s capital better spent in further research and development. Unless you’re hiding the passbook to a vast fortune in one of those threadbare pockets.”

Rinha'li Dhavha's nose very slightly un-wrinkles. Honestly, he wasn't expecting Lebeaux to look for volunteers at all. Maybe just flinging a sack over someone's head in an alley. "What are you promising, though?" he asks. "A miracle cure? I thought you required healthful subjects."

Lebeaux shook his head as he tilted his head back, exhaling small clouds of smoke as he idly tried to form them into rings as he’d seen others do. Discussing the matter with a languid sort of nonchalance, as though comparing notes on watching paint dry or something equally tedious. “The clinic I chose to volunteer at specializes in the nasty sorts of itches and rashes bored sailors pick up on shore leave.” He explained, his saintly smile quirking a little wickedly. “I hand picked a few then sent them along to Geofferaut to have their ailments cured with the assurance they would never have to worry about catching the same illness again.” He tilted his head slightly to loft a brow at Rinha’li, as though expecting some sort of praise for his ingenuity before he resumed his attempts at smoke rings.

Rinha'li watches the smoke blowing in vaguely circle-like clouds, collecting around Lebeaux's head before it disperses.  He seems to be pondering how much he cares about sailors. "What are you, um...expecting t-to get out of this research, precisely, Mister Lebeaux?" he asks, suddenly. "It's an odd line of...inquiry for s-someone of...your, um...for someone like you. Or...such is my impression, anyway."

“We went through so much effort to collect those samples.” He insisted. “Blood and sweat… well, most of those were yours.” He exhaled a humorless chuckle as he leaned back to settle on one of the sitting pillows with an elbow propping himself up. “It would be a shame to let them shrivel up and die. The research must go on. For the research to continue, there must be subjects.” He explained matter-of-factly. “Which is something I wanted to ask you about. What have you found to be the most effective way of purging voidtaint from living beings.”

Rinha'li flicks his ears. "I...um. It...it d-depends upon the nature of the 'taint', r-really. Many such....'c-contaminations' fade once exposure is...discontinued. In s-some cases, an...excision of aether, or in extreme c-cases of corporeal matter affected. Or, um ...destruction or dispatchment of the...s-source.  That's, um...t-the most effective way, usually, but it requires a little more...well, it's not easy. N-not if you want the victim t-to be alive at the end of it. “

Lebeaux nodded thoughtfully, occasionally letting his attention drift over to the miqo’te though he mostly seemed to be watching the smoke clouds rising. “In our line of research, what do you hypothesize to be the most effective way of purging the void. We’re using an infectious host that exists for the sole purpose of taking over a healthy body and corrupting the humours to cause sickness. When we kill the host illness... will the void taint die as well or will it have spread too far by then… would you suspect. This is all, after all, entirely hypothetical.”

Rinha'li thinks for a long moment. "It's...d-difficult to say. Much depends on how extensive the illness is, and...how long it is allowed t-to fester. In theory, it OUGHT t-to...fade, once the source is obliterated. If you are, um...still using a minor void taint upon the illness in question, of course. I c-cannot speak for anything stronger.”

“Of course. So the stronger the initial exposure and the length of exposure would effect it greatly, I see.” Lebeaux mused thoughtfully. “I’ll keep that in mind. Perhaps as we continue research it would be wise to have that sort of development going on along the side. To be sure we always have a final solution should things get out of control.” He tilted his head to smile too sweetly at Rinha’li. “Speaking of. Why is it you’re still assisting.”

Rinha'li blinks at this. "Ought I not to?"

“Oh, your insight is invaluable. As well as your expertise in the subject.” Lebeaux practically purred as he sat up, shifting the pipe to take a slow drag of the strong smelling smoke. “However, I can’t help but wonder what it is you’re getting out of all of this.”

“Is intellectual curiosity not a sufficient enough motive, Mister Lebeaux? I could ask you the same question, of c-course. What brought you to THIS line of inquiry? What d-do you hope to gain from pursuing it?”

Lebeaux tapped the pipe’s stem thoughtfully against his lower lip. “What was that saying about curiosity and cats…” He teased lightly before he reached out to ruffle the miqo’te’s hair and ears without warning. “It began with the desire to develop a method to store and transfer aether. I believe I told you that when we first embarked on this journey. Yet as we proceed further along, it’s perfectly possible other applications will make themselves apparent along the way.”

@black-omen-born

[blackrose-ffxiv]

A Little Local Flavor 07/19

“I c-can make tea, also, I suppose, if you’re going to stay.” Rinha’li Dhavha offered reluctantly. On the desktop appears to be a map of the southern shroud, with several additional locations drawn on it in red and black ink. Charcoal lines are sketched between them, as though trying to sort out the outline of something that once stood there that is now marked only by ruins.

“You may as well. It is a rather long trip.” Lebeaux Desrosiers noted, waving a hand to dismiss Rin to task before his attention turned to the maps laid out on the desk. The medic reached for one, sliding it closer as he peered down his nose at them. “Marking lines between, if I recall the Shroud’s layout properly, ruins?” He mused as he hovered a finger over the lines as he traced them, unwilling to get charcoal on his fingertips. “These would be the remains of Amdapor, would they not? I thought your interests would lie closer to the saltmoors.”

Rinha'li moves to stop Lebeaux, then realizes he’s not actually touching his work. “Their histories are…intertwined, but Amdapor is…it is…” he trails off, not sure what to say about the topic. His life’s work? An obsession? A calling? “…of particular interest to me d-due to a number of personal factors,” he settles on. He makes his way to the door and confers with a passing employee of the coffee shop on the other side in quiet tones before retreating back into the library. “I’m…s-surprised you…recognize the area. It’s…n-not exactly well traveled by most.”

Lebeaux smiled lightly, pale eyes moving intently over the map. “I have some passing familiarity. It was the fascination of someone I knew previously. It became an obsession. It eventually consumed him.” He noted calmly. Actually, technically, it was an aggravated mud puddle that consumed him. But that was like the same thing, anyways. The medic reached for his glasses and slid them onto his nose before he flashed that saintly smile over at Rinha’li. “You’re not concerned you may fall into the same pattern, are you? You’re a far more reasonable sort I’m sure.”

Rinha'li cocks his head and regards Lebeaux warily, wondering if this is some kind of conversational trap. Of course, everything is a conversational trap with Lebeaux, so maybe it hardly matters. His interest almost immediately gets the better of him. “I…did not know you knew a scholar of the War of the Magi,” he says. “It is a topic that often leads t-to…um…strange circumstances.”

“Not as such.” Lebeaux noted as he settled onto Rinha’li’s desk chair as it was the closest to a light source, sitting with his back to it so he could observe the surrounding room. “I have only a passing familiarity, but something of an interest.” He noted. “The Amdapori practiced a sort of magic you don’t see very often anymore, didn’t they? Something similar to conjury, yet more powerful. Their white magic?”

Rinha'li frowns as Lebeaux sits down at HIS workspace – doesn’t he know not to do that? So rude – but is distracted by the arrival of tea, and Lebeaux’s mention of white magic. “…yes,” he says in a hushed sort of tone. “It’s…not practiced anymore, save b-by the horned children the Gridanians revere, or so it is claimed.” He brings the tea over, and tries to act casual. “Who was this…individual who lost himself?”

Lebeaux tilted his head and wrinkled his nose slightly. “I’ve seen one who is capable of it.” And proceeded to demonstrate in his face. “Perhaps once we’ve stabilized the other research it could be another avenue of investigation. Trying both sides of the spectrum to find a balance.” He noted offhandedly, waiting patiently for the tea to be brought to him. “An Isghardian scholar researching methods of improving aether control. He felt Amdapor and perhaps even Gelmorra held the keys to unlocking potential. Is that your interest as well?”

“…you’ve m-met a mage of the white who wasn’t a padjal? Rinha’li’s ears tilt forward, and for the moment he ignores the rest of the question

Lebeaux nodded. “A troublesome sort in Gridania. One of their trumped up ‘Hearers’, a hyuran boy.” He explained calmly, the serene smile remaining perfectly in place as a brow lifted slightly. “Potentially a valuable subject to research if that’s truly your interest.”

Rinha'li stops, thinks, and tries to steady himself and disguise his excitement. How would Lebeaux even KNOW he’d seen true white magic? He was very likely to be either lying or mistaken. “I should like to meet him, yes,” he says. “Though I…um. Typically I have n-not gotten along well with…G-Gridanian Hearers.” He rubs at one ear, indicating the tea tray. “There’s, um…there’s brandy, too.” Rinha'li sighs and takes a seat at the table he uses to mix ink. “…Aether control methods are not my…P-PARTICULAR area of interest. I am…I am interested in the city itself. Much of what they did, and who they were, has b-been…lost. Hidden away, in many cases.” He wrinkles his nose.

“You’ll likely not get on with this one either. He’s an ill-tempered brat and incredibly stubborn. Selfish to boot.” Lebeaux explained with absolutely zero awareness he could very well have been talking about himself. “Ohh? I’d say you were trying to butter me up. I’ll have brandy, cream and double sugar in my tea.” He noted, expecting Rinha’li to prepare it for him. He settled back in his chosen seat, resting his elbows back on the edge of the desk once he was sure they wouldn’t end up in ink or charcoal. “Historical rather than aetherical culture?” He sniffed. “A shame.” He had been hoping to have that Hearer taken care of. Permanently. Maybe dissected to see where his abilities came from, though vivisection would have been preferable.

Rinha'li pushes the tea tray towards Lebeaux pointedly, indicating the cream saucer and tasteful silver sugar bowl. “You c-could…say that,” he says. “Though they are intertwined. They s-seem t-to have had…a m-method by which they made their very walls to walk. And much of what they knew has b-been…deliberately suppressed.” Rinha'li pauses, considering for a moment. “I’m f-from there, you know,” he adds quietly. “The ruins.” Maybe this information will help convince Lebeaux to continue offering information.

Lebeaux tilted his head thoughtfully, though he still made no effort to reach for the tea service. “Brandy, cream and double sugar.” He reminded him with a small wave of his hand as his attention drifted briefly. His efforts to be rid of Marvik for good slipping away as Rinha’li seemed more interested in chasing his ancestral home. “And what would you do with such a method?” He mused with a smile. Rin’s moving castle, of course. 

Rinha'li nods at the description of the tea. Yes, that sounds dreadful and cloying, his opinion has not changed. “I would…” here, he finally stops. What WOULD he do? He was not an architect. He simply wanted to know how it worked. He wanted to know EVERYTHING. And his deepest desire in toying with the powers of Amdapor made for poor conversation. “….w-well, to start, I should like t-to see how such processes interact with aetherically active geometry forms employed by arcanima,” he says. “Imagine if…if you c-could build such glyphs into the very blueprints of buildings. If you c-could have them shift direction according to your will.”

Lebeaux blinked slowly, considering that. Sure he had heard about shifting walls. But more importantly, statues. His pale gaze flicked aside as he considered that. The towering statues of the Saints brought to life to march beside him when he brought revelation and redemption to Ishgard. Alright, maybe it wasn’t as stupid as he initially thought. “The one I mentioned, he had done some research and paid several visits to the ruins.” He noted slowly as he smiled at Rin. “I could perhaps be convinced to allow you to have a look at his grimoire. If it would help you reconnect with your roots.” Because he was just that sweet and considerate, wasn’t he.

Rinha'li cocks his head. “You…h-have a grimoire in your possession?” he asks. “I d-didn’t know you took much interest in…the aethero-mathematical arts.”

Lebeaux looked a little smug as he tilted his head at the question. “I’ll have brandy, cream, double sugar.” He repeated for the third and final time. Folding his arms lightly across his chest as he waited to continue the conversation until after he had his tea in hand.

Rinha'li stares at Lebeaux, then sighs and mixes the tea delicately, as though dealing with volatile compounds. He wrinkles his nose quite obviously at the amount of sugar and cream – unused to a rich diet, or even much of a diet at all, all of this would make him dreadfully sick. “I know Geoff has some ability b-but I do not know the general state of arcanima research in Isghard.”

Lebeaux accepts the tea with an entirely too-pleased smirk. “It’s developing, something of a newer interest so far as I know. I’ve not dabbled with it myself but I worked with one for some time. It certainly has its uses. Spreading illness and ailment throughout the body that can then be aetherically cleansed at will. The ability to cure or kill. It’s rather impressive.” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to allow you a look. So long as you allow me to accompany you on an expedition or two, once you’re prepared for it.”

Rinha'li cocks his head, not prepared for this offer. “An expedition into the Shroud?” he asks.

“You’re planning to revisit the ruins, are you not?” Lebeaux took a sip of the tea. “Not bad, could have used a bit more brandy.” Another sip showed he didn’t mind too terribly. “I would be interested in seeing it for myself. This is, after all, the subject that drove an otherwise reasonable and respectable man to madness. I wonder what’s buried amongst those moving stones that called to him. Though of course I wouldn’t be foolish to venture in on my own.” Lebeaux smiled too-sweetly at Rin. “Not without a local’s expertise to guide me.”    

@black-omen-born 

[blackrose-ffxiv]

Preparations 08/16

“Once we’ve seen what there is to see in Amdapor, I will be hiring your services to aid in the restoration of my rooms here.” Lebeaux Desrosiers noted, changing the subject. “The same warding as you inscribed previously. I also wanted to speak with you regarding aether dampening.”

Rinha'li Dhavha cocks his head. "Increasing security, then?"

“Just so. I would prefer it to be something I can activate or disarm at will, yet I will take what I can get.” Lebeaux explained, taking a moment to adjust the lay of his lapels. “If it’s a field you already have some familiarity with, I would recommend bringing something along those lines when we depart. As further insurance of our guide’s obedience.”

Rinha'li cocks his head. "I m-mean, it's d-difficult to, um...perform at the drop of a hat. M-much easier to disrupt aether using constructed wards. B-but...um...w-well, I c-can begin t-to draw up some preliminary designs if you wish." Rinha'li hesitates a moment. "I MAY be able to key some of the functions t-to your aether-pattern specifically, b-but it may require s-some...um."

Lebeaux smiled primly. “Thus why I’ve given you advance warning. The one we’ll require when we depart will only need to disrupt the aether of one person, just to ensure he doesn’t try to teleport away or draw undue attention throwing too much aether around that cursed place. We can discuss the specifics of the room upon our return. Is that sufficient time to work?”

“Um...y-yes, it...it should be.“

Lebeaux tilted his head slightly. “What were you saying, regarding keying wards to my aether pattern? What would it require…” He mused, his curiosity piqued.

“Um...well. B-blood is the easiest way.“

Lebeaux smiiiiiled. “I’ve seen some of the things you do with blood. You’ll understand if I’m not entirely eager to hand my own over to you. Investigate other methods.”

“I...I m-mean, you d-do understand that almost all arcanima inks are m-made using aetherically active b-blood, c-correct? I c-can investigate b-but there m-might, of necessaity, b-be a great deal of uncharted t-territory covered in such an investigation.”

“How vile.” Lebeaux sniffed haughtily and rooted around his jacket, removing a slender smoking box and laying it down. “It’s not as though I do much casting in my own and much of my aetheric work is done in the medical bay. I’ll settle for having all but the clinic area disrupted. Will that be closer within your reach?” He suggested, removing a slender pipe from the box and setting about preparing it.

“Y-yes, that would b-be easier, b-but...I shall look into other methods as well. I d-do a great deal of experimentation in my aetheroengineering in any case. T-though there is nothing particularly unsavory about arcanima, you understand. It is n-not...a v-voidally active procedure.”

Lebeaux lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I’m not familiar with he particulars of how it’s done. Merely how to undo the damage it can cause.”

Rinha'li thinks for a moment. "You are a conjurer, are you not, Mister Lebeaux?" Rinha'li, for the moment, decides to leave this shocking display of un-inquisitiveness alone.

“A chirugeon, first and foremost. Though the aether-based techniques I used would be closest to conjury, though we were taught to call on the Fury for aid rather than the dirt spirits as they do in Gridania.” Lebeaux explained, taking two more sweets from the plate.

“...I d-do not suppose you would be opposed to d-demonstrating some of your techniques for me, in the event that I am g-going t-to be aether-warding your office?”

“It would only be fair. I’ve observed you at work, I don’t see why you couldn’t be allowed to do the same.” Lebeaux offered with a saintly smile. Despite the fact he had mostly used that warding time as opportunity to interrogate and harass the miqo’te rather than observe experimental arcanima being formulated.

Rinha'li chews his lip. "I h-have something of a personal interest in the art, b-but its practice is l-largely controlled b-by...Gridanian interests."

Lebeaux held his hands out, palms up despite one being occupied by treats. “I suspect they’re rather similar in their roots. I’ve also seen some similarities to the supposed ‘white magic’ that the Hearer used. If it will help you further your research, I am ever at your service.” He lied with a smug smile. So long as that research went on to further his own interests.

Rinha'li blinks. "White magic...?!" he asks.

Lebeaux allowed the smug smile to grow every so slightly. He figured that would have caught Rin’s attention. “Oh? Didn’t I mention. Our guide is a Hearer and has at least a passing familiarity with white magic. Considering he demonstrated it in front of me at least once.” In his face, technically.

“He DEMONSTRATED it? ...you d-did not browbeat a PADJAL into j-joining us, did you?“

Lebeaux tilted his head thoughtfully. “I’m sure he didn’t mean to. He lost his temper and his aether flared with it.” He explained calmly, he certainly did have a way to bring out the worse in people. He gasped theatrically before placing a hand over his own chest in mock horror. “Fury, no. There is something inherently wrong about those creatures. But you should ensure that disrupting sigil or what have you that you devise is rather strong.”

“You...are aware it is supposed t-to be unheard-of for someone who is...n-not a chosen of the forest t-to wield such a power, c-correct?”

Lebeaux popped the remaining treat into his mouth, chewing slowly he glanced down, finding a small amount of white powder remained on his fingertips. “I am not aware.” He leaned casually over to give Rin a firm poke in the shoulder, transferring the powder there with the gesture. “This is why I have you along. To make me aware of such things. While I knew I had acquired a valuable asset, now I find he’s worth even more than I had initially appraised him for.”

Rinha'li wrinkles his nose at the powdered sugar sullying his not exactly immaculate but definitely dark-colored coat. "The p-prevailing attitude is that white and b-black magic was lost in the War of the Magi, yes, and it is s-said the Elementals will t-take vengeance against any except their c-chosen who employ it. P-protection of the land and...all that."

Lebeaux flicked his fingers a few times to ensure the sugar was entirely gone before he picked up the pipe he had prepared but never lit in favor of more sweets. “Ohh, isn’t that interesting. Be sure to remind him of that.” He suggested, using an alchemical lighter and taking a few small puffs to start the smoke rising. “I would make a dashing ‘divine justice’ wouldn’t I.”

@black-omen-born

[blackrose-ffxiv]

Impractical Magic Part 4 05/16

After getting over the initial shock and revulsion of the extraordinarily unsanitary conditions of the summoning; Lebeaux Desrosiers regained the small step he had lost being taken aback. Shifting slightly over to the side to observe more intently as the bloodied circles were scrawled and unusual words muttered. Leaning in slightly as he strained to make out the strange language pale eyes blinking as little as possible in an effort to witness every last motion and gesture. It wasn’t until the language returned to Eorzean that he remembered that he wasn’t actually supposed to be watching this portion. For the sake of his everlasting soul he wasn’t supposed to be observing this sacrosanct mess. Lebeaux made a sacred gesture across his forehead and shoulders, turning away and lowering his gaze. Plausible deniability and all that.

The tear is visible now, like a bleeding wound in the middle of the air, and it is even possible for the perceptive to make out the form of distorted eyes and teeth, and an indistinct fluttering like black wings trapped under glass. Rinha’li Dhavha holds out his bleeding arm to the void tear. “N-now would b-be...an ideal time t-to--get out anything you...you n-need t-to be--b-be tainted --” Rinha'li says between gritted teeth, his eyes focused on something beyond the tear.

Geofferaut Derosiers extracted five petri dishes, knelt down, and slid the first toward the tear.

The bloody, filthy ichor oozes slooooooowly towards the dishes. The more void-educated might suspect the formation of a pudding to be imminent, as the squelching noises start to take on the characteristics of human whispering.

Lebeaux was being a good devout Believer and not looking. Keeping his gaze firmly towards the entrance of the cave. Though he did listen intently as Rinha’li spoke to whatever was beyond. Then came the wet sound of something decidedly unpleasant and wet bursting. Yet he didn’t look. Waiting patiently all the while until he was satisfied that the actual blaspheming portion was finished and the tear secured. He turned on his heel and folded arms across his chest. His smile quirked in curious amusement as the Geofferaut got to work and RInha’li stared transfixed into the darkness.

Rinha'li, meanwhile, is engaged in what appears to be some heated struggle with the tear, or something in it. Occasionally his eyes flutter as though he is in danger of falling unconscious, but does not. Actually, less of a struggle, perhaps, and more of...the manner of someone circling a tiger while holding out a steak.

Lebeaux Desrosiers supervised the ongoings, though he had no idea if this was going according to plan. It seemed the vile sound had been their sacrificial corpse immolating for some reason or another, yet mercifully the worst of the filth seemed to have scattered in other directions. Leaving his coat still perfectly pristine. Geoff was working with mechanical precision, of course, though Rin seemed to be up to something strange. Leaning towards the rift and staring intently into it as though speaking with something beyond. The medic moved slowly forwards, stepping quietly behind the enraptured arcanist.

Geofferaut Derosiers slid the last of his dishes toward the tear and took the last step over the barrier, careful to leave it intact. "The tear has probably been open long enough."

Lebeaux edging closer seems to kickstart something in the oozing aether. The muddy corpse run-off/blood/otherworldly ichor on the ground swirls into something roughly mound-shaped, a gap opening on its side like a crudely-drawn grinning mouth. It starts to jibber in a disturbingly accurate imitation of Rinha'li's voice -- "T-thought so! T-thought so!" over and over again -- as it lunges straight towards Rinha'li and Lebeaux. Geoff, on the other side of the salt barrier, seems safe for now. Parts of the creature even squelch nastily as they impact an invisible wall where the salt was laid.

Geofferaut amended his assessment in light of new data. "The barrier has been open long enough."

Lebeaux shook his head. “It should be left open to ensure that future batches may be exposed…” He trailed off as a pile of sludge congealed into something sentient enough to mimic Rin. Not that it was very difficult to make fun of the miqo’te. He managed to remain calm as he took several long steps backwards to cross over the salt line. Raising the staff at the ready as he began to cast, conjuring up a bit of wind aether in an effort to shred the oozing lumps.

"There is at least one conscious being present. The tear is too volatile to be useful a second time." Geofferaut corrected.

Rinha'li, entirely distracted, has no such luck. A formless pseudopod catches him in the shin and knocks him back against Lebeaux, snapping him out of whatever weird trance he was in prior. He yelps in frustration, gesticulating wildly. "P-puddings aren't CONSCIOUS!" he yelps, sounding almost offended that the first thing he hears when he focuses back on his two co-conspirators is a counter-factual statement. “It's j-just a side effect! D-d--just--splatter--“

"Oh. Okay." Geofferaut didn’t argue.

Lebeaux Desrosiers lowers a hand from the staff to catch the Arcanist as he crashes against him. Less out of concern for Rin ending up on his rump and more out of a desire to keep his white coat white, having a bleeding and flailing miqo’te wasn’t good for that. As such the spell was knocked off course, a swirling whirlwind doing little actual damage to the pudding though it had eroded the salt line in a few places with its reckless gusting. “Can it be contained or must it be closed.” Lebeaux demanded as he pushed Rin back onto his feet towards the rift.

Rinha'li falls into Lebeaux's arm in exactly the way that a fainting damsel in a stage play doesn't. "J-just--yes kill it, I'll--" The pudding is not moved by wind. "Kill it! Kill it! Kill it!" it shrieks. Rin dashes towards the rift and reaches for his grimoire to slam it closed.

Lebeaux exhaled a sigh of annoyance as he lifted his sleeve, a few spots of crimson bright against the otherwise pristine white fabric. “Geofferaut, help dispatch it. Rin, close your eyes a moment.” He instructed. The medic’s conjury was shaky at best, he didn’t bother giving it another try but rather summoned up unaspected aether from his own reserves as well as the surrounding air, combusting it in a searing white flash near the pudding.

Rinha'li slams the grimoire and his eyes shut at the right moment. Blood and filth splatters from between the pages as the rift SNAPS closed...although whispering can be heard indistinctly still, from...somewhere. And of course, there's the mess.

Geofferaut retrieved the jar of salt and brimstone with one hand. The other rested on his tome. That left none to cover his eyes. Momentarily blinded by the light, he became very still, sniffing and listening closely.

Aether detonated and the concentrated unaspected aether ate a generous bite out of the oozing pudding. Which was the intended result. Lebeaux hadn’t quite managed to position the spell correctly to destroy the entity entirely, yet if anyone asked he had done it on purpose to avoid splattering even more void filth around the cavern and inevitably on his coat. The pudding didn’t seem more than slightly slowed down by missing a good portion of itself. And the piece that had been explosively amputated began to shift on its own as well, echoing the whispers coming from the larger one.

Rinha'li snaps, "Don't SPLIT it!" and turns, clutching the bloody book protectively to his chest with his non-injured arm.

Lebeaux huffed somewhat indignantly. As though he had done it intentionally. “If cutting it to bits won’t work well and I don’t trust the cavern to remain intact if I loosen a few rocks, how would you suggest it’s taken care of.” He snapped back. Aether gathered as he made another attempt, the magic briefly through the cavern before concentrating on the smaller pudding to hopefully immolate it without the accompanying flash this time.

“F-fire--precisely aimed aetheric combustion -- c-cutting it t-to SMALL b-b-bits rather than BIG ones—” Rinha’li suggested hurriedly.

Geofferaut blindly stepped back over the barrier into the messy fray, ears cocked. His mouth twitched out some harsh hissing syllables and searing aether sizzled in the heart - er, center - er, approximate geographical center of the whispering mass, boiling outward.

Rinha'li sways on his feet, and gestures t-towards Geoff. "Or...or that." The pudding's primitive mouth keeps working, as it boils away, this time in Lebeaux's voice -- "Taken care of! Taken care of!" -- babbled over and over again, reducing the words to mere noises. As the pudding fizzles down to a slick, oily stain, Rin wobbles to his feet. Rinha'li holds up his injured hand weakly. "If you'll excuse me, I'm g-going to be sick," he says mildly, and hobbles off to a corner.

Geofferaut blinked, trying to clear the seared in after image of Lebeaux's first explosion. "Are the samples intact."

This is why Lebeaux hired assistants. The medic watched the miqo’te stagger away, wondering if it was the slime he was spattered with or the probably infected gashes on his arm that made him nauseous. But. Priorities. Lebeaux crouched down and picked up one of the glass dishes, pinching it between gloved fingers as he extracted it from a pile of goo, excess dripping off of the closed container. “Intact… but sticky.”

@black-omen-born @cellardoor-ffxiv

[blackrose-ffxiv]

Impractical Magic Part 1 05/09

Lebeaux Desrosiers pushed his way through to door to Quill, holding it only briefly for the other elezen so it wouldn’t detract to terribly from his grand entrance. With a flutter of white coattails he made his way into the ground-floor café, letting his bootheels click loudly against the floorboards to announce his presence. “Rinha’li, are you in.” He called out cheerfully. A message had been sent to request a meeting, though it was perfectly possible the miqo’te had opted not to attend it. Or was hiding.

Rinha'li Dhavha is not open for business at the moment. There's even a sign on the door stating so, but as he's sitting just inside, he neglected to lock the door. He has a book laid out on his lap, papers strewn about on the couch, and is clearly deeply engaged in work of some personal significance. He frowns studiously at the book every so often, pausing to make marks with charcoal on some of the papers. The message was one that he had strategically put off answering,  hoping Lebeaux might lose interest.

Geofferaut Derosiers entered the building and immediately began scanning the room for escape routes and ranking them from most to least efficient, separate rankings depending on which direction the threat originates.

“O-oh, um...Mister Lebeaux. Um...g...good of you t-to...drop by....um...” Rinha'li 's gaze settles on the other, unfamiliar elezen, who seems to be inspecting the place with a great deal of urgency. "...is something the matter...?"

"No." Geofferaut spoke in a bland monotone, like a body that performs all the functions of communicating without understanding why and how they really work.

Rinha'li is slightly taken aback by the brusqueness of this reply. "Um...oh. G...good?"

Lebeaux left Geofferaut to his assessments as he strode across the café area to where Rinha’li seemed entirely absorbed in whatever he was working on. Moving quietly once the carpet muffled his steps. He stopped short when the miqo’te finally looked up and smiled patiently. “Rinha’li Dhavha, Geofferaut Derosiers. No relation.” He explained, gesturing between the two arcanists by way of introduction. “Don’t mind that. Did you get my message?”

Geofferaut Derosiers murmured automatically, "It is nice to meet you."

“I...um...” Rinha'li visibly weighs lying about this for a moment, then decides against it. "...I did. I have b-been rather busy lately--um...I...I d-don't think I caught your name," he says, cocking his head. "Which means, um...r-really I d-don't think we've met at all, actually, except in the vaguest sense. Um."

Lebeaux settled his hands lightly behind his back as he awaited the answer, glancing back in mild amusement at the automated reply, then looking back to Rin. Out-etiquetted by Geofferaut. Now that was sad. His smile grew a little more amused. “I just introduced you two. My, you must be very busy to be so distracted.” Could also be nervous.

“ Oh...y-yes, of course. You even said...n-no relation.” Rinha’li corrected quickly.

Lebeaux nodded and took a step closer, leaning forwards slightly to peer down at the materials the miqo’te had strewn about. “Whatever it is, it can surely wait I’ve a matter in need of your immediate attention.”

Geofferaut Derosiers seemed to make a determination about where would be best to stand, and so moved to stand there. And then he stood there. In the place where it would be best to stand.

Rinha'li looks back and forth between the two elezen, his head seemingly spinning from the tandem assault of Lebeaux's oily politeness on one hand and this newcomer's bluntness. "Um...nice to meet you. As well. I...um. Yes, I was rather...working on...um, is there something I might assist you with...?"

Lebeaux took his hands from behind his back and set them instead to smoothing the lapels of his coat idly. “We find ourselves in need of access to the Void. A small rift will do, nothing terribly grand. I’m not entirely familiar with the sizes and severity this sort of thing comes in but I suspect a fray will suffice.” He explained calmly, opting not to circle round and round the issue today, though he had gone with the royal ‘we’ to make it sound more important.

Rinha'li blinks and is silent for a long time. "...I'm s-sorry, I...I'm n-not sure I understood you correctly. Did you say you needed a...a v-void gate?"

Lebeaux considered that for a moment. He could press on and expose that he really didn’t know much in the technical aspects of it. Possibly make himself look a bit silly. Instead he shifted that saintly smile from Rinha’li to Geofferaut. “Would you kindly tell Rinha’li what you’ll require for the research.” He gestured languidly between the two arcanists again.

"Okay. The research requires germ cultures exposed to void taint. It is better if there are at least three cultures exposed for varying lengths of time." Geofferaut told the air, the floor, and the three primary exits from the room. Geofferaut did not have to tell the two secondary exits, as windows are known to listen very closely.

Rinha'li narrows his eyes, weighing the possibility that this is some kind of entrapment. A sort of occult sting operation where he's supposed to vehemently rebuke the very idea or be branded a sorcerer. He does, however, listen to Geofferaut's explanation, his ears tilting forward almost unconsciously. "...germ cultures?" he asks, after a moment. "To what end?"

"Yes. To possibly create a void tainted infection." Geofferaut always answered questions in the order they were asked.

Rinha'li looks at Lebeaux, trying to see if he can glean any indication of his motives here from his expression, however vain the hope might be

Lebeaux didn’t seem to mind the unusual delivery, still busily ensuring the pristine fabric of his coat was laying just so. He glanced up long enough to look between the two. Seeming to be thoroughly amused by the entire conversation. “With the intent to then use the infection to create a restorative, for use in the treatment of aether ailments.” He added on as he smiled down at Rinha’li. The miqo’te never struck him as particularly benevolent but there was a chance even they drew the line at synthesizing void plagues.

Rinha'li thinks about this for a moment, weighing the possibility that Lebeaux might actually be telling the truth. Eventually his curiosity wins out, and he hesitantly asks, "...d-do you have, um...a c-corpse handy?"

@black-omen-born @cellardoor-ffxiv

[blackrose-ffxiv]

First Aid 05/30

Rinha'li Dhavha, hardly for the first time, stumbles back through the front door splattered in ichor and bleeding freely from self-inflicted wounds. He's shucked off his jacket and wrapped his arm with it to keep the wounds covered, but the hasty retreat back to home base has re-opened the ragged wound and blood is starting to seep into the fabric. He stays on his feet, but wobbles unsteadily from time to time -- prompting him to occasionally grab onto the nearest object for balance. Sometimes this ends up being Lebeaux's arm, much to his dislike

Lebeaux Desrosiers followed alongside Rinha’li through door to Quill. Holding it open with his free hand. The other occupied with a handful of the back of Rinha’li’s shirt. More or less holding him by the ‘scruff’ to help keep him upright without risking the flawless white of his jacket’s sleeves. Despite his best efforts the miqo’te still occasionally lurched over, seeming intent on passing out yet managed to right himself after catching the elezen’s arm. Leaving blood and dirt smudged fingerprints on those precious ruffles. More annoyed at the stains than the situation he glanced around. “Any place in particular we can use?”

“D-downstairs, there's a t-t-table-” Rinha'li doesn't like being dragged around, but unfortunately cannot really protest at the moment.

Geofferaut Derosiers immediately began scanning the room for escape routes and threats, in that order. "I require alcohol and a flame."

Rinha'li points to a corner cabinet in the thankfully empty coffeehouse. "C-clear spirits," he explains.

“Hot water and clean cloths, as well.” Lebeaux suggested, tacking onto the shopping list, turning the miqo’te to start him towards the way down the stairs.

Rinha'li staggers down the stairs and collapses gratefully into the chair at the end of of the hall. “Hot water, t-there's a kettle. Cloth too.”

Geofferaut spent a moment sniffing a few of the available spirits and chose the strongest to bring with him.

Lebeaux helped Rinha’li into the chair before taking a step back to inspect the damage to his sleeves. Frowning briefly at the smudges. “Geofferaut, would you begin cleaning the wounds. I’ll go put the kettle on.” He suggested almost cheerfully, turning on his heel to go find the items in the café area upstairs.

Atlan Lanning had been studying in the basement office when he heard multiple people coming down the stairs. He recognized Rinha'li's voice immediately, but he didn't like the distress in it. "Rin? Are you...?" His question was cut off when they came stumbling by and Rinha'li was placed in the chair at the end of the hall. "What happened!?"

Geofferaut sat and mechanically unpacked supplies from somewhere in his robes. A small assortment of needles. Two weights of thread. Small, wickedly sharp scissors. Two small vials of clear liquid that joined the purloined spirits. He turned dead eyes to the stranger. "You will bring a lit candle to the table."

Lebeaux paused in his departure, his smiling growing slightly when he noticed Atlan. “Oh, perfect. I was going to ask if your boy was in. Atlan, fetch hot water and clean cloths as well.” He turned his attention over to the items being laid out.

Geofferaut turned his gaze to the bleeding subject. "You will lay your arm on the table with the wound turned up." Geofferaut also had a task for the newly unoccupied Lebeaux Desrosiers. "You will aetherically cleanse the subject. If able."

"...I guess you both can answer me when I get back." Atlan didn't like leaving Rinha'li there, even if he did know Lebeaux. He quickly left them to fetch the items the man he assumed would be helping the miqo'te had asked for. "...I'll be close by, Rin. Yell if you need me, otherwise I'll be right back."

Lebeaux sniffed slightly at the order. Yet since he had passed off his last task to poor hapless Atlan it left him with nothing better to do. He settled primly onto the rug beside the table and took Rinha’li’s wrist. Extending the arm and laying it on the table so the forearm was turned upwards to display the full extent of the injuries, under a drying layer of blood, ichor and desert dirt.

Rinha'li winces as Atlan comes through the door, looking quite distressed. He was hoping he would avoid explanations. He lays his arm on the table, palm up, to expose the ragged furrows left by a corpse's unkempt nails. Carefully, he clenches and unclenches his hand, gritting his teeth. “ Atlan, I'm--I'm f-fine-” Rinha'li does not look fine

Atlan came rushing back as quickly as he could to avoid putting out the candle he held in one hand and the items Lebeaux had asked for in the other. He carefully set each one before Geoff, eyes locked on Rinha'li's wound. "...You don't have to say anything right now, Rin."

“ Um... R-really, I've...I've h-had worse.” Rinha’li insisted.

Geofferaut slides two of the cloths, layered, across the table with only a perfunctory command, "Lift," before sliding them under the injured limb.

"...Just because that's true doesn't mean the current situation isn't bad." Atlan suggested.

Rinha'li takes a moment to realize the "lift" is a command and is addressed to him. “It's...it's n-not as...as b-bad as--as-- it l-looks. Aether-sick.”

“You’re not doing him a favor by lying to him.” Lebeaux offered pleasantly enough as he leaned forwards to inspect the damage. There was quite a bit of physical dirt and grim to be cleaned away. “Keep your hand relaxed, flexing like that will only make the corruption travel further.” He took one of the clean clothes, dipping it into the warm water and squeezing it over the injury before dabbing lightly. Clearing away the dried filth so it could be sanitized with the alcohol after. The dirtied water being soaked up by the cloth Geoff had placed underneath.

Rinha'li hisses between his teeth as water hits open wound.

Geofferaut addresses the liquor bottle he was readying. "The subject will probably survive. The limb will probably remain functional. Lebeaux Desrosiers will not touch the wound. Lebeaux Desrosiers will aetherically cleanse the subject." 

Lebeaux glanced up, unsure whether to be impressed or annoyed by how chatty Geofferaut had become now that their subject was no longer a corpse but living being. Touching the wound was half the fun. Nonetheless he smiled primly and set the bloodied cloth aside. Now that he could see the edges of the cash a little more clearly he curled his fingers and then spread them out, channeling aether through his rings to sink the spell into the torn skin. Magic seeping through veins and bloodvessels to seek out the spreading ill humors and drag them back to the wounds to drain them away.

Geofferaut waited for the subject's arm to be released, frozen, staring. Once it was cleared of interfering hands, he upended the booze bottle, giving the open, ragged wound an extremely generous pour.

"Lebeaux, how did this happen?" Atlan asked.

Rinha'li keeps his eyes fixed on the magical process in grim fascination, his arm shaking. "I'm n-not...lyin--Atlan, really, it's--" And then he is taken entirely by surprise when Geoff upends a healthy dose of sanitizing alcohol all over his lacerated arm without warning. He YELPS loudly in surprise and pain.

Geofferaut set the newly empty bottle aside and plucked his gloves off and tucked them away. Long, lean hands criss-crossed in overlapping webs of finely lined new, old, older, and nearly gone scars selected a sinisterly sharp needle and threaded it. "The subject will remain still."

“Well, I took Rinha’li out into the field for a little investigative work to further research Geofferaut and myself are working on.” Lebeaux gestured with the hand not currently casting to the other elezen. “This didn’t go quite according to plan but here we all are.” He smiled sweetly. “If it helps at all, these wounds are self-inflicted.” He didn’t bat an eyelash as the yelping began.

[blackrose-ffxiv]

Patching Frays 06/13

"Actually, considering the state of the samples, I shouldn’t wonder if we won’t need to make another attempt at a fray to the Void.” They moved further into the cave where the dirt was still stained dark from the filth that had seeped into it. The remains that had been in its depths had been reduced to such small pieces that there was little smell beyond a faint rot. No worse than the ever present damp smell of the Shroud. “Perhaps something a little larger." Lebeaux Desrosiers rolled shoulders in a small shrug.

Rinha'li Dhavha kneels down, retrieving a small wooden rod from his satchel and starting to poke at the dirt, scritching it this way and that to check for traces of their errant pudding. "Larger would m-mean...more unstable," he says. "And...um..." Rin hesitates for a moment here. "...m-much greater chance of something stepping through. Though truly p-powerful voidsent require a vessel even with a gate present. This is m-maybe something of a personal question, b-but how susceptible would you say you and Geofferaut are to possession by outside entities?”

Lebeaux stood back several steps as he leaned the staff on his shoulder and removed his leatherbound journal from his jacket, flipping through a few pages to mark down a few notes with a charcoal pencil. “Possession?” He repeated as he scratched a few more things onto the page, glancing up to look at the arcanist. “As in succumbing to the infernal influences of whatever lurks beyond? I suspect I have nothing to worry about. I’ll not be swayed from my path. As for Geofferaut…” Shoulders lifted in a small shrug. He couldn’t even begin to fathom the other Ishgardians motives or interests, nor would he really want to, to be quite honest. “Have you encountered such a thing yourself?”

Rinha'li flicks his ears. "Well, voidsent c-can be dreadfully clever at m-making their path look like yours, I'm afraid. And..." Rin hesitates again before answering, but then seems to decide he's already dug himself into a deep enough hole here, so what's a few more shovels of metaphorical dirt. "I have encountered such things on multiple occasions."

Lebeaux smiled serenely. There was already a voice on his head that he was perfectly comfortable with, he was entirely confident that he would know if that voice changed in the least. But then surely plenty others far more familiar and far better prepared for their brush with the beings beyond had felt similarly. “Yet here you stand. How did you manage to resist their influences?” He mused, letting the tip of the charcoal rest against the page as he smiled down at the shorter man. “Or… did you not…”

Rinha'li seems satisfied with whatever he has found scratching in the dirt, and stands back up. "Are you insinuating that I am, at this moment, working under the c-command of a voidsent, Lebeaux?"

Lebeaux shook his head slightly. “That would be ridiculous. If you had been, you would have had no reason to close the rift when you did. Rather it likely would have been in their interest to open it further.” He explained calmly, smiling all the while. “Why would you do that, particularly when you were having such a pleasant chat with whatever was on the other side.”

“Voidsent are quite capable of thinking longterm. P-perhaps moreso than we mortals. And as it stands, we are n-now both quite far from civilization, alone, in an area of already t-tainted aether. If I w-were under the command of a voidsent, Mister Lebeaux, I think I would already have gained the upper hand. As it stands, though, the creature we encountered stands no chance of re-forming. The rift is quite sealed shut.” Rinha’li confirmed.

Lebeaux waited patiently, pencil at the ready. If Rinha’li was indeed possessed by a voidsent intent on doing him harm, this would be the point in the explanation where his ‘true face’ would be revealed as he lunged for the medic to rend him limb from limb or drain his immortal soul through his nose or some such bit of theatrics. There were none forthcoming as the moment stretched out and passed, all of the dramatic tension falling away disappointingly. Ah well.

@black-omen-born 

[blackrose-ffxiv]

cursed images

Oh those Rosiers boys always getting up to all sorts of hijinks. Not picture: Rin being horrified

@cellardoor-ffxiv @black-omen-born