#rral soj

[dated-radz-at-han-coin]

Forced to have boobs out

[starfalldancer]

M-mistress Rral Soj..😳

[battleonthebigbridge]

I think they should double date

[selnyam]

"Morning arrives, time to check in with Mistress Rral Soj to see how I can help today. Oh, hmm?"

"oh!"

"Took them long enough! I'll come back later, give them some time"

[velnica]

FFXIVWrite2024 #2 — Horizon

Papawni stood at the far end of Wachumeqimeqi, wondering if she was ready to seize the day.

Dawn's First Light on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58669699

[oserillia-aenor]

I did the dawntrail Wachumeqimeqi quests for Metalsmiths and the two characters are SOOOO gay and into each other that I wrote some smut about it: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57861661

Have fun!!!

[ffxiv-swarm]

prompt 26: zip

Halfway through what she’d intended as a six-month sabbatical, Portia had started to settle in to Tuliyollal. She’d cut her hair, started wearing local clothes, and even gotten mostly used to the food. (Mostly. She could handle mustard-spicy, but chili-spicy was on an entirely different level. Her tongue would never be the same.) Still, there were moments of severe culture shock. Like today, when an Alexandrian woman sidled up to XRral Soj’s Metalworks, asked if they do armor repairs, and—when the answer was yes—plunked an arrangement of straps and zippers on the counter and signed off on the work.

Rral Soj stared at the armored jacket, missing several plates and with a zipper that Portia could see would refuse to zip. “What is that,” she said flatly, and for a moment Portia couldn't think what she meant.

Ah, she was testing the zipper. Portia frowned at her. “...’Tis a zipper. Do you not have them?”

“No!” she huffed, ears flattening. “We could make metal teeth this small, of course, but why would we? Ties and buttons are fine.”

Rral Soj had a point, but something like sympathetic pride made her stick up for the Alexandrians. They reminded her so much of what Garlemald could have been, after all, if the Empire’s collapse had been less violent. She picked up the jacket, shaking it out. Another plate clattered to the workbench. “You can create more shapes—look—” The zippers on the arms and collar were less damaged than the main one (it seemed their client had a run-in with a bandercoeurl) so she was able to unzip and fold and remove parts until what had been a low-collared long-sleeved jacket was sleek, sleeveless, and covered the entire lower half of the wearer’s face.

Rral Soj blinked slowly. “...The weavers’ guild must be losing their minds over these.”

She nodded. “If we’re going to get more Alexandrian customers, we need to start offering zipper repair in addition to our other services.”

“Which means we need to learn to make ‘em.” Rral Soj’s gaze dropped, her ears twitching forward. Portia knew she was already pondering alloys and casting methods, and any minute now she was going to lunge for her supply crates. But she wasn’t great with fiddly little pieces like that, which meant...

Papawni. Portia didn’t hate the girl anymore, but it was still mildly infuriating watching her take approximately a thousand years to solder delicate filigree onto the handle of a bespoke sword as though deadlines were a polite suggestion. One of these day Portia was going to tell her about Garlean factory assembly lines and probably make her swoon. (Rral Soj would swoon too, but for an entirely different reason.)

But now the girl was crowding forward to study the tiny metal teeth, and her smile was positively radiant. “Leave it to me!”

Well. Portia guessed the girl wasn’t useless, after all.rral s

[sorren-greystone]

I might have a little bit of a crush on her.

[elliewiltarwyn]

FFXIV Write 2024 | #17: Sally

Word Count: 484

Fourth Umbral Moon, 10th Sun, 06 7AE

The time is almost come to strike back.

The train should be finished tonight. Everyone’s preparations are just about complete: most of the Scions are holding down the fort in Shaaloani, but G’raha and Krile are joining the three of us and Wuk Lamat on the vanguard. Lily and Krile’s collaborations are producing some stunningly powerful pictomancy, and Mia’s equipped a brand new set of paladin armor, smithed by Rral Soj from Wachumeqimeqi, and pulled her sword out of storage to help Wuk Lamat lead the charge into the thunder dome - against the strange metallic armies her brother commands.

Wuk Lamat herself is…nervous doesn’t begin to describe it. Understandably so, of course. It’d be hard enough to lead the charge in any case; to do so after so recently shouldering the weight of leadership of her nation… let alone losing her father?

“You must have sallied forth like this dozens of times before,” she said to me, looking slightly desperate. I admitted that I had - “and if you think there’s some sort of secret to doing so without the fear, without the looming specter of your recently deceased loved one hanging over you, I’m going to tell you there isn’t.”

She took that well, at least: “I knew that in my heart, if I’m being honest. I don’t even want to banish Papa’s specter - I want him to watch over me as we set forth in defense of the nation he loved. It’s just…the pressure…”

I don’t know how to alleviate the pressures of Dawnservant, and I told her so. But I do think there’s something to be said for venturing forth like this, confident in the knowledge that you’re doing what is best for yourself and the ones you love (which, for her, extends far beyond her immediate circle of close friends and loved ones). The pressure is still there, but the confidence can help bear that burden.

And well, for all her naiveté, she has confidence to spare. As well she should, I think: her sense of justice is strong, and that’s something I’d like to see at the head of a nation - before any of the common problems force her to make “the hard decisions” or whatever. I don’t know - I just hope she gets to do something with this before she faces the Merlwyb dilemma of “oh no we simply have no choice but to break the kobold treaty”…

In any case, at the moment, her sense of justice is at the vanguard of the charge against the metallic soldiers, and I’ll make sure to clean up the scraps left in her wake. If we survive ramming the dome, at least.

Fourth Umbral Moon, 11th Sun, 06 7AE

We survived ramming the dome and it was awesome. Will continue this when we get a chance to rest somewhere underneath said dome.

[roamingeasel]

Day 6 of WOLtober, but this time an NPC because I had to draw her! It’s Rral Soj from the Dawntrail crafter quests

[battleonthebigbridge]

RRAL SOJ I LOVE YOU RRAL SOJ

[ffxiv-swarm]

prompt 16: third-rate

On one hand, the goods coming out of Tural were generally well-crafted and Portia was increasingly glad she’d taken the trip across the salt. She was learning so much. Especially now, after that business with Alexandria and their electrope which she’d honestly needed explained in very small words but was turning out to be a real boon for everyone involved now that the batshite crazy rulers of Tural’s new neighbor had been put down. (Shards? Reflections? Rejoinings? Way above her pay grade. The idea that there were entire different dimensions out there besides the Void and the First had taken half a pack of contemplatively smoked cigarettes to get through. She was endlessly grateful Solus—sorry, Emet-Selch—had never told Varis about that shite. And now there was a separate dimension permanently grafted onto their own? She understood why people did drugs.)

Anyway, the Alexandrian and Turali wares were great. She loved them. Whether they were elaborately woven Hanuhanu baskets or Mamool Ja pottery or even Alexandrian machinery—especially Alexandrian machinery, though the reliance on electrope really wasn’t replicable by the average crafter so she couldn’t exactly sit down and start churning out the same shite, not everyone had Scion gil, Gantsetseg—she could learn new techniques and forge new connections just by sitting in Wachumeqimeqi for half a bell without even picking up a hammer.

On the other hand, some of the supposed bespoke artisans—the Moblins’ “potsworn” in particular—were, well...

She glanced at Rral Soj. Rral Soj did not look at her.

“You know what I’m going to say.”

“She just works so hard,” the Xbr’aal woman muttered.

Portia took a long drag on her cigarette to forestall her first and second responses, and settled on her third. “She’s not nearly up to scratch, and you can’t afford to get her up to scratch if you still wanna make rent on this stall and keep your orders flowing. She’s a nice kid, but she’s not the kind of worker you need.”

“She could be.”

Portia grimaced. Rral Soj wasn’t wrong—Papawni could be a great metalworker. She was apparently a master goldsmith already. If she somehow had unlimited time, she could probably create masterpieces. But the shop didn’t have unlimited time, and she was entirely too focused on making things pretty when they needed to be functional. And, more to the point, if Portia had to watch the girl spend bells trying to make the curve on a scythe’s haft just right instead of finishing the damn thing and moving on to the next in the literal pile they were all trying to finish before sunset she was going to strangle her.

And of course, she thought grimly, I can’t bloody tell her she’s a fucking idiot, because then she’ll cry and I’ll be the bad guy.

She blew out a plume of smoke and muttered, “Well, she’s not yet, and that’s the problem, isn’t it? We’re workin’ harder than you did by your lonesome pickin’ up her slack.”

Rral Soj stared out across the bustling market. Then, wordlessly, she held out a hand for a cigarette.

[velnica]

Late Night Dance 🌙 (Rral Soj/Papawni)

[sorren-greystone]

Love these two and a very cute questline.

My crush on Rral Soj continues.