#thank you for not littering eiden.....

[ngdays]

A pretty handsome-faced stranger took interest in the nonsense words Akira was looking at. At least it made sense to someone, but that someone didn't get across the meaning he caught on to. Well, not more than "something as low as garbage" based on the flyer's treatment, which was a hint.

"Wasn't really planning to, but... what's it supposed to be? Robots painting things?" From Akira's experience in the city it seemed like robots could have consciousnesses on the same level as humans, so that reaction'd be pretty harsh.

" Huh? Let me see... "

The words caught into his ears and got him curious, he practically grabs the paper from the guy's hand but his expression remains more or less the same.

" Hmmmm... "

He crumbles the paper and throws it into the ground.

" That kind of thing is an enemy of an artist ok? Don't go into useless things like that. "

In a moment of silence Eiden picks up the crumpled poster and properly puts it into the trash.

[not-a-seagull]

PRISON CELL – 09: “Carpentry Operations” 

Background: None.

Music: BGM 022

Eiden: Merciful God of Klein, we pray to you that you may forgive our sins with love and affection…

? ?: Finally, we ask that you may return us to the righteous path, with these two hands we pray.

Quincy: ……

Eiden: Finally, we ask you that you may return us to the righteous path…

Eiden: (I can’t believe I’m in prison with Quincy and a bunch of other inmates… praying…)

? ?: Well done, everyone. You may open your eyes.

Eiden: (Oh, and guess who’s leading the prayers…)

Background: None (white.)

Olivine: Wash your hands, let go of the sins of the past, and reaffirm the pious hearts of the God of Klein has bestowed upon us all, His greatest gift.

Background: Prison Workshop. (closed)

Eiden: (Olivine could make a sewer feel sacred… I’ve never seen so many smiles around this place…)

Olivine: Next, I would like to invite each of you to come up and collect a wood block and a set of tools.

Olivine: I will then show you how to make a simple handicraft, which we will bring to the temple to offer to the God of Klein so as to receive His blessing.

***

Background: Prison Workshop. (closed)

Music: BGM 023. (soft sounds of tools working the wood.)

Eiden: (Edmond sure works fast— by pressuring the prison to allow the church to help with rehabilitation, he was able to get all the inmates to take part in a carpentry activity.)

Quincy: Here’s yours.

Eiden: Ah, thanks… Hmm, but there doesn’t seem to be anything special about this wood…

Quincy: Uh-huh, it’s just regular wood.

Eiden: So where are they hiding the you-know-what—

Quincy: Shh, keep quiet.

Music: None.

The two halt their conversation and glace along the long work table.

Walking in their directions, hands held neatly behind his back, the Warden closely observes the inmates at work.

Eiden: (It’s just like Edmond said… He’s the only one observing.)

Eiden: (Better focus on the task at hand for now… I’ll discuss the rest with Quincy later…)

Quincy: ……

The forest guardian, head bowed, deftly works his cutting tool across the wood block, carving out a model boat far more intricate than the other inmates.

Eiden: (I know he’s good at this kind of thing, but I can’t help feeling a little envious of his skills…)

Eiden: (But I won’t be beaten! I used to make model toys all the time! There wasn’t a better designer around for miles—)

(More sounds of tools softly working the wood)

Warden: ……

***

Background: Prison Cafeteria.

Music: BGM 023

Eiden: (Looks like it’s back to business as usual… it wasn’t easy getting Olivine here— i just hope our plan worked…)

Eiden: (But I have to admit, it was fun trying something new for a change… Olivine even complimented our work—)

Music: None.

Warden: Attention, everyone. There has been a slight change to the afternoon’s work schedule.

The Warden pauses and turns his gaze on Quincy and Eiden.

Warden: You, and you. Come with me to the carpentry workshop after lunch.

Quincy and Eiden: …!

Eiden: … Yes, sir!

Eiden: (Hook, line, and sinker!)

Eiden: (Hehe, it’s no surprise the Warden selected us for carpentry duty after all the praise we got for our carvings this morning…)

***

Background: None.

Music: None. (sounds of footsteps)

As they’d hoped, Quincy and Eiden have been selected for so-called carpentry duty.

Walking single file behind the Warden with the other select inmates, they make their way to the workshop.

Background: Prison Workshop.

Music: None. (sound of door opening)

The long work table sits littered with drawings, tools, and wood blocks— an almost identical setup to earlier in the day.

Warden: Here you will find the necessary materials, and over here are carving instructions. You may use any of the provided tools as you see fit.

Warden: Today’s assignment is a tough one, so be sure to put your best foot forward.

Eiden: Lemme see… Whoa, this looks super complicated!

The instructions show an intricately complex design that appears to be some sort of pendant.

Eiden: (If we can really make these, I bet they’ll sell like hotcakes…)

Eiden: (But these wood blocks look identical to the ones we used this morning—)

Quincy: … It’s faint, but I sense essence radiating from the wood.

Eiden: Essence?

With the Warden surveilling the other end of the room, Quincy sits beside Eiden, an ordinary-looking wood block in his hand.

Eiden: Ah, I see what you mean… It feels as if it’s coated with a layer of essence…

Quincy: It’s a camouflage spell.

Quincy cautiously checks his surroundings, then squeezes the wood block in his fist, channeling his essence in order to reverse the spell—

In his palm sits an ordinary wood block no longer. Instead, there lies a smooth, fragrant, densely-grained piece of lumber as black as night.

Eiden: Is that… crowcave?

Quincy: Yes.

Eiden: Edmond was right! the Warden really is using the prison as an illegal crowcave processing plant!

Eiden: We better meet up with him after we’re done here to discuss our next move.

Quincy: ……

Offering no reply, the stoic forest guardian slips the crowcave block—so fast you wouldn’t notice it—into his sleeve and gets back to work.

End of chapter.

Sources:

Background Images: NU Carnival wiki.

Transcript: did it myself, with the help of this video.

Last chapter: Prison Cell 08 | Next chapter: Prison Cell 10

[coreshorts]

Idiot

The village was quiet, as it often was. After all, only two Raen called it home, thus far, following its reclamation. Buildings lay in shambles, weapons of both Garlean and Hingan make littered the ground in various places, blood stained the buildings and the earth alike, and the only light that they did not make for themselves was that from the sun or stars. That night, it was the latter, the moon shining brightly above and casting an eerie glow over the the slowly-reviving ghost-village.

In the midst of it all sat an old, rusted Reaper, many of its parts long-since made useless from structural damage, weather, and time. Next to it was a building with a massive hold blown in the side, likely from the walker’s magitek cannon. The space was cleaned up earlier and an oil-and-dirt-stained blanket, salvaged from one of the nearby houses, was laid on the ground for a heavyset Auri woman to sit with a box of tools and other gadgets in an attempt to dismantle it for its still-worthwhile components.

Hali’s mood, however, was anything but productive. The last two days had been a wild ride of emotions that had, in equal parts, exhausted and frustrated her. How many times had she cried since? Five times? Six? She didn’t want to care. Thinking about it only made her curse her own fragile mind even more.

Emotions were always difficult, even before the events of the Calamity. She didn’t know what had happened to her, then, but what she did know, not long after she woke at the Conjurer’s Guild one day, was that she had lost nearly a year of her life to some mad amnesia, and no one would tell her what had happened or why. She found herself, after, plagued by a paranoia and anxiety that made the anxious fits she experienced as a child seem trivial. She’d come a long way in the years since, but she was still damaged.

People, and the emotions they sometimes brought with them, confused and scared her. Most were dismissed easily as shapes and noise, their emotions and meaning vanishing as soon as they would leave. Some, however, remained. Kel, her best friend and teacher, remained at the very top of that number, representing stability, hope, safety, and a feeling of a bond that she didn’t quite know how to place. She had others, too: T’rahven, who was a friendly rival, giving her a reason to challenge herself, to become better, and provided a friendly shoulder on which she could steady herself, and Hanaru, a calm and decisive presence who would always offer a listening ear and helpful advice, if not a helping hand. Even her cat, Finn, whom she ached to see again, who was on his way with her cousin, Dail’a, to Hingashi to join her in their new home, was among those. Her cat was precious to her, holding feelings of happiness, love, and affection.

There were those, though, who took on negative feelings. At that time, she knew of one, and thinking of him made her want to do terrible things. Maximillian Crawford, the man, one of two of her employers, who had abused her so frequently, both psychologically and physically, but kept her under his thumb through money and job security through his brother, was one she associated with terrible emotions: hatred, malice, and pain. She wanted nothing more than to murder him. Killing him, she hoped, would one day take those feelings away again.

The worst of it, however, was when those emotions caused her to feel things for people she didn’t know, and made her hope against hope that she could create meaning in a person and make them real to her. She had, of course, no way to control the feelings; they would also work of their own accord, independent of her own wishes. Such was the case with a woman with whom she had, four times now, encountered.

A short Raen with a single horn, a little on the chubbier side, who practically shone where she stood had first caught her attention, dressed in the uniform of the Immortal Flames, at a party in the Goblet. Hali had been asked to locate another person at the time, but was distracted when she noticed the shorter Raen. When their eyes met, however, she turned and walked away in an anxious fit, her social limits already having been sorely tested that night, leaving her unable to think of what words to say or how to act properly. She encountered her, again, that night, several more times, with the last time being on her way out the door, where the radiant woman had stood right outside. With a timid wave and a quick side-step, she had run to get away from her in a panic.

She’d hated herself for that. Although Hali knew that she was in no shape to try talking to someone new that night, she had wanted to. As rare an occasion as that was, it felt important, and she had failed. It galled her, and she cursed herself for it. She reached out to those she could, even writing letters to advice columnists to ensure that she wasn’t just a pitiful fool.

Then, her second chance arrived, unknowingly given to her by the Crawford Brothers. She had been sent to investigate a new casino, as it had caught their interest, along with another Raen whom she’d met that same night before and had since joined the company, named Eiden. Eiden had been nice to her and, when Hali noticed the woman from whom she’d run away at the casino, talked her into remaining, calming her. Eventually, she’d even managed to get her a seat beside the yet-nameless Au Ra. Her nerves continued to harass her, however, and she could only manage a greeting before falling silent, afraid of disrupting the show at the time. When Eiden left, she began to panic, however, and then the other woman left. She’d frozen, and by the time Hali could make herself move again, she had gone. She had stuck around a moment longer to finish her report for the Crawfords, but then left, once again defeated by her own anxiety.

A third chance had been afforded her, right on her own doorstep, when a club across the street from the Gold and Glory had opened for a celebration. She had been, as she had taken a liking to do, sitting on the roof and casually tossing her practice knives at the training dummies in the yard, when, mid-throw, she saw her again. The shock and anxiety caused her to start, and she dropped a knife off the cliff on which the house was situated, nearly falling off, herself. In panic and utter mortification, she’d quickly clambered down off of the house and run to her room to hide in shame for the rest of the night. The next day, she awoke, cursing herself for not only having neglected to go after her to try and finally talk, but for having fallen asleep, at that, so early.

She spent the next day busying herself. It would be a matter of days until Dail’a arrived in Kugane with her belongings and with Finn. She wanted to forget about the shame of the night before, compounding on itself with that of the last two chance meetings with the unknown Au Ra. It bothered her on a very deep-seated level that she found herself so affected by the desire to simply walk up and talk to her. Even though it diminished into near-oblivion as most other feelings did when not in her presence, it only grew worse when she saw her.

She’d managed to distract herself for most of the day, and quite well. Around lunch time, she met an aspiring new member of the company, a renowned gladiatorial mage known as “Spark.” After challenging and besting her in a duel, she headed out for her daily training, accompanied by the Blue Mage Ghayaraan, Kel, and another new company member, Nhaza’ya. Afterward, she had found Kel and spoke with her at the Outriders’ house, where her confidence was given a sorely-needed boost,

“You give me hope where I have none,” she had said, causing Hali to turn nearly red and stammer bashfully, though it made her thankful all the same, that she had done such good for someone who meant so much to her.

The rest of her day had been busy: the Seabreeze Bazaar was open, and she meant to find things that could be useful to take back to their village. She secured a decent amount of potions, tools, and the like to help keep them stocked and ready with what they lacked, and, finding a bit of extra time on her hands, made her way to Ishgard. An Opera production had been held the night before, but in her panic, she had missed it, causing her even further annoyance.

The performance was superb, and was truly something the likes of which she’d never had the opportunity to attend. Though the air bit at her face, she resolved to enjoy the respite from the waning summer heat as autumn peeks over the horizon. After the show was over, she’d located a friend, Yhen’to, and spoken with him for some time, though a voice drew her attention.

The Auri woman had been there, as well. In all the bustle and chaos, she’d not seen her until then, as the crowd dispersed. She waited, however, seeing her preoccupied with a number of people. Only slightly eavesdropping, she managed to overhear a need to depart quickly for prior obligations. In all of it, however, she could still not make out her name in the din of those still remaining. By the time the crowd around her had dispersed, however, she had gone, as well in a manner of some haste. Much as Hali reminded herself that it’d have been selfish to hold her up when she was already likely late, she found herself just sitting down again to cry, overwhelmed once again by the swell of disappointment, resentment, and failure that she’d begun to feel so regularly.

It was frightening her more and more. This woman who she so badly wanted to meet, even just to make - to even have a chance to make - a new friend, was slowly taking on meaning. Fear and disappointment were things she had begun to feel even outside of her presence, and with those came a strange sense of loneliness. Despite the people already in her life that meant so much, this sense of constant failure was beginning to crush those positive feelings away from her, and it made her so afraid. She was afraid of the feelings, but also afraid of herself. Would she want to kill her? Would she want to remove her so she wouldn’t have to feel those things? She seemed so nice, and it pained her to think about it. She didn’t deserve it, and she hardly deserved having a madwoman rave to herself in her own thoughts about her so.

She must hate her, she decided. How else would a person feel about someone who has run from them or otherwise acted so inappropriately around them on multiple occasions? She probably looked like a creep, showing up as she did, only to freak out and get nowhere.

Idiot. Why can’t I just handle feelings like a normal person?

Her thoughts had turned, sitting before that rusted Reaper, a wrench slowly prising pieces from parts to dismantle the hulking thing, to angry self-deprecation again. They often did when she felt she’d failed. She never understood why the world seemed out to beat her up so often when she could do more than a good enough job on herself.

So stupid! Just get over it! So many people give a shite about me. I still have Kel. I still have Finn. I have others! What are they, nothing? Don’t they matter?

They do. No, they do. They do. But this girl. I don’t understand this feeling. It was called a crush, but I don’t get like that!

Of course I do, her thoughts turned more and more volatile as she argued internally with herself, hand shaking as she gripped her wrench, I got like that with Kel, and it was stupid. And it’s stupid again! I’m just stupid! So... just...

“STUPID!” she found herself yelling aloud in anger as thoughts became too powerful to remain in her head. Drawing the wrench back, she screamed in frustration and brought it down on one of the rusted plates with a loud clank.

“Why. Am. I. So Stupid!” she yelled, tears streaming, uncontrolled, down her face as the wrench uselessly impacted the rusted plating again and again.

Eventually, she ran out of energy to continue with her childish outburst. She cursed herself even for that. She couldn’t lie to herself. She felt emotions. She just wished she didn’t. Sometimes, they weren’t there, and she could be numb, but sometimes wasn’t enough. She was so tired of being overwhelmed so often by feelings she couldn’t comprehend, that made her want things that she had no idea how to achieve. Of course she wanted to talk to this woman, but then what? What would she do? The questions had no answer, and it made her want to scream again.

Instead, she sat on her blanket in the cold, Hingan night, in the middle of a ghost-village only recently inhabited again by her and Kel, and cried. The rusted Reaper sat before her, almost mocking in its solidity and complexity. She was in no proper state of mind to handle the thing. 

It always happened. When she was sad, she’d cry. When she was angry, happy, scared, surprised, or even when she didn’t know how she felt, she’d cry. It always came, and it was always there. The tide of tears just waiting to be unleashed. The smallest emotion always overwhelmed and frustrated her. Every time she thought about it, it’d only get worse, because it would further serve to frustrate her with herself, overwhelming her even further. She sat for nearly an hour and just cried like that, the sobbing coming in waves as the thoughts and feeling assaulted her. She hated it. She hated feeling. It was terrible, and it hurt.

Eventually, however, she calmed herself, using a handkerchief to wipe her face. It was nearly four in the morning, and she was getting tired. She didn’t know how she knew the time, but it was there, in her head.The late hours and her exhaustion from running all over creation, popping from aetheryte to aetheryte in Eorzea, jogging the rest of the time, and then coming back to Hingashi, made everything feel that much worse.

She began packing up, when she noticed something just behind her: a small, origami frog, just at the edge of her work blanket, peering featurelessly up at her, as if a reminder. No matter how worthless or stupid she felt she was, she did have people who cared. The only person who could have left it was Kel, who didn’t quite handle her outbursts well, but always seemed to want to try to help regardless. She recalled her words earlier and started to cry again, though it was short-lived and on a slightly more positive influx of emotions.

She decided, then, that it was time to sleep. She would only get worse at that rate. Gathering her things, she scooped up the little paper frog, as well. With a pen she’d been using to mark bits of a schematic, she drew a small heart on its head. Its destination was the small table next to the cot she’d secured for a temporary bed. Her thoughts wandered through most of the night, however, perplexed and frustrated at herself and her uncontrollable, incomprehensible emotions.

She had people who cared about her, and she knew it, so why did she feel like such an idiot?