#the other one is easy and so was the first difficulty of milky nose but now this is really annoying

[zaddyazula]

i think my toylets might be fucked because my xbox is locked at 60fps

[beth-march]

green like growing (miraculous like tomorrow)

Summary:

“Fez,” Lexi murmurs, with very loving, very dim annoyance. “You can’t keep doing this.”

“I know,” Fez answers, a half hearted apology. He glances down at their daughter, pleased to find she is still asleep. He needs her well rested, in the interest of his wife having peaceful nights. “I don’t got a choice, though. She just won’t go down any other fuckin’ way.”

A/N:

This is only the beginning of a long series of domestic moments because that’s all I want for them... I’m going to write it as a multi-chapter so that I write it more quickly. Hope you enjoy!

Read on Ao3 here or under the cut:

Sleep flows like a miracle, when the room is shrouded with such light. It should make lucidity hold, except that the hue is gentle, the buttery sparkles of the sun falling less like intrusion and more like a blanket. Fez is enveloped by the warmth, and enveloped by the weight of the young girl slumped asleep on his chest, the sound of her gurgling breath.

It is late morning in the living room, and they are curled up and cosy on the couch.

He has rocked her to sleep, and now she returns the favour. It isn’t deliberate, the way that she soothes him, which makes it all the sweeter. The milky fragrance of the top of her head is a love letter all on its own. She finds rest in the cradle of his arms, and there has never been a moment since the day she was born that she has hesitated in trusting him.

That is unlike anything Fez has ever known. He has been there since the very beginning, holding her since she was unknown, a stirring bud held safe by his love. What a thing for Lexi to have done, and her hand shows in the efforts, her work shows in their daughter.

In a hazy state, not quite asleep and not quite awake, Fez steals glances of his baby. Ensuring she is safe, braced carefully against his sternum, and admiring her pudgy, rosy face. He considers the fan of her eyelashes, the shape of her cheeks, her chin, her nose, the pouty rosebud of her mouth. She looks so much like her mother, and it’s an endless source of joy for Fez. A piece of Lexi to hold onto all day, to tide him over until she returns.

Returning today, Lexi steps into the living room and spills with laughter. She is exasperated, but it disappears beneath adoration. She crouches by the couch, dusts her fingers over the top of Fez’s head, and as he rouses, he turns into her palm, nuzzling close.

“Fez,” Lexi murmurs, with very loving, very dim annoyance. “You can’t keep doing this.”

“I know,” Fez answers, a half hearted apology. He glances down at their girl, pleased to find she is still asleep. He needs her well rested, in the interest of Lexi having peaceful nights. “I don’t got a choice, though. She just won’t go down any other fuckin’ way. What the hell does this kid got against sleep, anyway? I love sleep.”

Lexi groans, tips her face into Fez’s, eyelashes fluttering against his cheekbone. 

“Me too,” she says. “I hardly remember what it was like.”

“Our other little miss givin’ you trouble?” Fez wonders, frowning. He doesn’t remember Lexi struggling to sleep the night before, but he knows she had difficulty resting during her first pregnancy. His free hand finds her stomach, flat as ever, but when he touches that part of her he swears he can sense his youngest, shifting in her cocoon.

“It’s too soon to know if she’s a girl,” Lexi chides, covering his hand with hers.

“If what’s a girl, hm?” he asks her, with a big grin. Lexi has been calling the new baby ‘she’ just as he has been. Fez thinks they’re meant to have girls, imagines their third will be another daughter, and he couldn’t be happier about it.

She rolls her eyes, a sweet acquiescence, and answers his earlier question. “She’s fine. She’s got me more tired than usual, though, and work is fucking exhausting.”

Fez frowns. “You don’t wanna push yourself too much, mama. Wasn’t Marcie tellin’ you to take it easy? Two babies is a lot. You gotta take care of yourself, too.”

“We only have one baby,” she says, dusting her hands over their daughter’s head.

She is still asleep. The sun catches on her dark, wispy curls, the tight ringlets hanging flush on her rosy neck. Gilded such, the red of her hair is vibrant, dark. It has gotten brighter, made her blink open a bleary eye, and the blaze of blue is all Fez. 

She never looks more like her father, than when touched by sunshine.

“Mama?” the little girl slurs. One chubby hand stretches out, collides with Lexi’s cheek.

“Hi, baby,” Lexi greets, ducking in close to press a kiss to her forehead. There is so much love in her dark eyes, looking at their daughter, and Fez is always in awe of it, the magnitude of Lexi’s goodness, of all the love she has for their family.

“Did you have a good nap?” she asks, softly.

The baby nods. Her eyes have gone heavy again.

“I might try to get her in the crib,” Fez murmurs.

“Will she even let you?”

“Mm, she might.”

She does. She stays sleepy in his arms, curved against the grey cotton of his shirt as he ambles from the living room, down the hallway. Lexi looks out of place, in her designer sweater, her plaid pants. Pristine and beautiful, spooled tight for her work day, where Fez wears fatherhood like a second skin, in sweats stained in his daughter’s dribble, smeared in the glitter decorating the front cover of the book she likes best at the moment.

This is what his life has become. Depositing the baby in her cot, watching as she sprawls amidst the lavender cotton. She is doll-like, in the perfection of her features. Fez caresses her back, awed, and Lexi lays her head on his shoulder, sighing.

“She’s never going to nap on her own if you keep snuggling with her…”

“Those rules are dumb as fuck. I don’t wanna stop snuggling with her,” Fez grumbles.

It draws out a laugh, which doesn’t discourage him in the slightest. He knocks his forehead into the top of her head, laughing alongside her, something kept hushed for the sake of letting their child rest.

“I know, I don’t want you to either, but if we want her to be an independent sleeper, we have to,” Lexi says, with that authoritative, motherly voice she has. Part of Fez never wants their baby to grow up, wants to keep her small and trusting and untouched by the world, but another part of him is positively aching with anticipation for lecturing, scolding Lexi.

She’s so loving, and she’s so fierce. He’s excited to see her grow as a mother.

“I feel you,” Fez relents, but he is already grinning with his new scheme. “Guess I’ll just have to snuggle with you, instead.”

With that, he bends and hooks a hand around her knees, sweeps her up into his arms. Lexi stifles her own squeal against her hand, eyeing the crib wearily on their way out.

“Fez, I’m on a lunch break,” Lexi protests, while he presses kisses to her cheeks and forehead.

“Just ten minutes, aight, you said you were tired…” Fez insists. “We got plenty of leftovers, it won’t take long for you to eat. Are you that hungry?”

“No. I’m a little nauseous, actually.”

“For fuck’s sake,” he says, bringing a hand down to pat her belly. “Behave in there, won’t you? Making your mom feel sick, that ain’t right.”

“It’s ungrateful, really…” Lexi giggles, as they make it into their bedroom.

Like he had with his daughter, Fez lays his wife out to rest, and guides her into his arms, offering his chest as a resting place, that which both his girls - all his girls - prefer. Lexi sinks in, nudging her shoes off, and they tumble to the ground. She curls her socked foot around his calf, curves an arm around his middle, hand dipping beneath his shirt.

“I’m actually a hypocrite,” Lexi says. “I don’t think I could sleep without you, either.”

“You’ll never have to,” Fez promises.

It’s a promise he can make. A promise he will keep. These days, he holds nothing but certainty.

[overdrivels]

funsizedkola replied to your post “a chef is too easy. gotta now figure out how to...”

Two words: Hair. Washing. 

You. You have a great idea there.

---

There are times when Hanzo thinks Overwatch is too lackadaisical about their own safety, rushing into things without plans or meeting people who say they’re Overwatch’s allies without any proof except a shaky history. Then there are times when they’re overly cautious, as they should be, but in the stupidest of ways.

“’Overwatch must not have their hair cut or be shaven by unauthorized parties.’ What is this?” Hanzo looks up from the contract, squinting at McCree and Winston.

“You ever seen the movie ‘Sweeney Todd’?”

“Actually, it was a musical play first, so it would be of no surprise to have known that first.”

Hanzo didn’t know how to respond to that other than just, “No.” It’s regrettable because his orientation is extended for another hour while he learns about a movie (or musical) that is almost a century old about serial-killer barbers and the few barbers whom Overwatch agents are allowed to see at this point in time until all others can be confirmed to be not of the throat-slitting variety. (It’s a silly precaution, really. Hanzo is more likely to cut their throats instead even with a hot towel over his face and three glasses of whiskey in.) 

The list of available barbers is short and the missions he goes on usually places him a full day’s vehicle ride away from the nearest one. It’s not as though he fussed about his hair too much--his hair was long in his youth and he usually kept his hair tied anyway. But after lending his ribbon to Satya to bandage her broken arm (which turned out to be absolutely useless because she was able to hardlight a cast for herself), and getting smacked in the face with his own hair and almost shooting Tracer clean out of the air, he figured it was time to make a deliberate pit-stop.

His expectations were low enough. Any stylist or barber who lets McCree run around look like that should have their certifications revoked and then quit their profession entirely.  At the very least, the salon is better than your perceived reputation.

It’s a quiet, old-fashioned place tucked between a Starbucks and a huge office building with only two seats and a single person manning it. Unlike other establishments that put their customers on display, the wall is made of frosted glass. Pictures of hairstyles at least 10 years out of date decorate the walls alongside pictures of you in your youth standing with people he doesn’t recognize.

“Thank you for waiting, Mr. Tanaka. What can I do for you today?” you ask as you prepare your instruments.

“Side-shave. Both sides.”

“Would you like your beard trimmed?”

“Make it neat.”

“Sure. Would you care to have your hair washed first?”

It’s not even a debate. “Yes.”

You lead him to the back where the washing station is and you undo his ponytail with little difficulty. A towel is laid out onto the sink’s rim before you carefully guide his head back onto it. Your fingers comb through his hair a few times, skimming his ears, making his eyes close.

“Are you comfortable?”

“Mm.”

So far, your service has been passable, but it’s when the hose turns on does his evaluation of you change. The water is tepid but the pressure is strong. You rub your fingers along his hairline and down, rubbing his scalp, easing the tension he didn’t know was there. The sounds of rushing water fills his ears, the quiet hum of an old jazzy tune bounces around the sink. Soon the smell of milky shampoo enters his nose and the hose is shut and both your hands are upon his head, working in unison to massage his head.

Unwittingly he lets out a sigh. This is bliss and it would be great if it doesn’t get ruined by having his throat slit.

[littleredroseonthevalley]

Gospel of Love, Gospel of War

Summary: Tyril awaits patiently his turn with the giver of his life and his death, considering what means to love when one does not know possession.

Rating: T - Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with some violence, minor coarse language, and minor suggestive adult themes.

Notes: So, I came rather late to the party. BLS is nice enough. No TRR 1 nor ILITW, but better than OH, and certainly better than most books PB manages to skew out these days.

Hope y’all enjoy.

Sometimes, enhanced senses were a terrible nuisance.

I was laid down at the chambers the human Crown was lending me. The bed was the softest I had ever encountered in their realm, rivalling mine at Undermount. The weather was nice and my body was aching with tiredness, and yet, sleep alluded me.

Instead of the milky darkness a lesser being would certainly be facing, I saw the moon shine creeping from the fireplace, and the fire being cradled in the hallway chandeliers. I could see the particles of dust falling slowly from the ceiling, I could hear the ants walking behind the walls and I could smell the perfume from the last occupant of the room, likely a gaudy noblewoman.

However, at home, all these stimuli were also present, and I rarely had any difficulty drifting off to sleep. It is not something I acknowledge with pride, but the source of my insomnia is not the state of the room, but rather the obtrusive thoughts in my mind.

Not several thoughts, just one, the one. Her.

Platinum hair falling from her head in delicate curls, naturally ironed in a precise and symmetrical shape, framing the aquamarine blue of her eyes that shone even in the dark of Deadwood nights, an angular nose that denounced her aristocratic blood and thin lips that turned and twisted with the most delectable promises.

The thin constitution and the absence of blemishes on her clear skin would trick a man to believe that such a woman had never worked or fought a day of her life, but such assumption would be gravely, perchance deadly, mistaken. I have seen her fight, and she can hold her own against many, if not all, warriors I have ever encountered.

Not she found need often. She is charming and cunning, unafraid of using her opponents’ weaknesses of character and resolve against them, of seducing others to fight for her.

She did me, after all.

Her sweet words whispered in my ear, and I was bending my knee to her with such conviction that it was unbecoming of a Starfury, of an elf. I believed everything and anything she had ever told me, and I was willing to defend that belief with my sword if necessary.

She erased centuries of proud tradition and customs ingrained in my personality, in my character, and replaced them with her every whim. She taught me her gospel, and I was proud to be her most loyal disciple.

I was jealous of her, in the name of the gods old and new!

Kivali and Dinvali be damned, to me she was everything. The water for all my thirst, the answer to every question. I have no need for any other woman, elven or otherwise, and all I want from the gods at this point is that I learn how to sate her every craving as well.

Alas, I fail at this as well.

She will not tell me one way or the other, and I fear asking, but I know. I can smell on her skin and I can taste on her mouth, the bedchambers she visits before she comes to mine. I do not know whose will it be every night, but it is never mine first, and sometimes not the last.

I still wait, nevertheless. Awaken, counting the minutes for her to arrive and dreading the time she leaves. Wondering where she went before she came to my arms.

Perhaps it was Volari. The rogue had enviable charm and wit; a physique sculpted on the fire of his basic needs. He had stories of adventure that easily seduced a suffocated country girl.

It could be Aerin. His cultured speech was interesting to listen, and his easy manners were soothing. The prince’s runt nature was known to remind her of her brother. Royal blood was, also, a powerful aphrodisiac, regardless of its bearer’s position in the line of succession.

Her preferences could befall another sex for the evening. For all her appearance of purity, something I am sure many would take pleasure in, Nia had been quite daring since I met her. I am sure it would be enjoyable for both parties pushing the limits of her innocence.

Should be Imtura, it was likely to be the complete opposite, as her condition as an orc makes her resilient and lascivious. A lust that could go on for all night, and a body that could withstand much abuse, as well an enviable experience, certainly acquired in many a ship’s voyage.

Or it could be people I have never met, people I would never suspect. It feels as if everyone is competition, and defeat means death.

I felt woefully underprepared to such a battle. What I had to offer? I am merely a fallen elf from a house, while ascendant once more, was hardly worth all the caveats that came with it, and not even its lordship I deserved. My intellectual achievements were mediocre at best, and I could not hope to hold my own against the Shadow Court in a field of war.

My very life is forfeit in a desperate goose chase for revenge that I could not help but let taint every aspect of my life, endeared to me or otherwise.

I bemoaned time and time again my fates as an heir, for the fact none could see what laid beneath the Starfury name and riches, and now I find myself here, feeling exposed, deprived of every frill and disguise, dreading it, grasping at anything that can conceal me once again. The day of my judgement is fast approaching, and I could only hope for a conviction.

Yet, I wait with anticipation. Yet, I could not sleep, not due to fear and repentance, but with anticipation for any scraps of attention I might have been able to be assigned, like an eager voxper wagging its tail.

It is demeaning and unbecoming, but it feels too good.

Suddenly, the sound of the door creaking open breaks through my reverie. The time was upon me, and my body felt the thunder her presence drawing near.

A sliver of light signals her entrance in my bedchamber. She closes the door and step closer enough for me to touch. As her smell hits my sensitive nose, all considerations about her whereabouts vanish, as I reach my arms and trap her close to me.

I do not let her speak in those moments, and I do not hear her words if she insists to talk. I just wrap my arms tighter around her waist and hope for the time to pass me by slower.

Some might need a miracle or a blessing to renew their faith, but I only needed to peruse her skin for me to believe in my gods.

She was my gospel, and I never wanted to let go.

[subetei-noykin]

Indepth Profile + RP Call

IDENTIFICATION —

"Can't you see I'm sorry? I'll make it worth your while.

I'm made of dead mans money, you can see it in my smile.”

Full Name: Subetei of the Noykin

Pronunciation: Sue-be-tei

Pseudonym: X

Nicknames: Scales

Age: Thirty Cycles

Name Day: 32nd Sun of the 4th Astral Moon

Birthplace: Azim Steppes, Othard

Guardian: The Salt and Storm

Residence: The Lavender Beds

REFERENCES —

"Thousand faces staring at me, thousand times I've fallen.

Thousand voices dead at my feet. Now I'm gone, now I'm gone, now I'm gone.”

Motto:  “Take only what you're willing to have taken, give only what you're willing to get.”

Theme Song: Fire - Barns Courtney

Face Claim: Jason Momoa (Sorry not Sorry)

STATS —

"The deepest waters won't take me, the highest fall won't break me.

The blood and sweat is what made me, made me."

Gender: Male

Race: Au Ra, Xaela Tribe (Noykin)

Height: Seven fulms, one ilm

Weight: Two-hundred sixty one ponze

Eyes: Narrow and hawkish, right eye crystalline blue with large pupil, left damaged and milky white with blood infiltration in the orb

Hair: Steel gray with straw blonde tips, swept back and spiked with four long braids in the front. Medium length at first glance, actually shoulder blade length.

Skin: Purple-Blue, rough and calloused with hard lines

Build: Muscular and toned but wide and sturdy, good bone structure

Auri Features: Dark Blue/Purple scales over majority of face and body including jaw line and nose bridge. Six visible horns, two pronounced which have metallic inserts on their tips and dagger-like shape while the remaining four rise from his hairline and scalp

Scars: Reference Here

Tattoos/Marks: None

At First Glance (+5)

A Warrior: Spotting him in a crowd is rarely hard and he is typically armed, though rarely fully armored. It's in the way he holds himself, the rhythm he moves and the gait which threatens to push those who step in his path over. Even without his rough appearance or scars, or even the callouses on his hands, it would be hard to mistake him for anything but what he is with his body language and the myriad of battle scars covering him. He may smile and laugh, be friendly and around his mate he can even be seen as a gentle man, but there is always a sharpness to his eye and readiness for violence that reads in him clearly enough to put others off.

Odd-Eye: While his eye-patches admirably hide it, Subetei's left eye is utterly decimated and even the surrounding skin shows tell-tale burns, scar edges and fissures of skin that have healed and marred over. It is impossible to not notice in good lighting and seeing it is unsettling to say the least. Underneath it is even worse; The eye has been split and sealed, re-healed and fused to the skin in some places. The milky white orb is bloodshot in places and has flecks of blood mixed in, with no real pupil, and some parts of the bone stick out near the edges of the eye. It is a gruesome sight and it is why he rarely removes his eye patch.

Self-Made: While he does wear some items professionally made or fitted, the vast majority of what Subetei wears is hand-stitched and crafted by him for his own purposes and as such it is rare to find him not wearing something made of hide, leather or decked in fur. While not ugly or poor quality there is a definite simplicity in his designs that shows. Hardly flashy or elegant, there is also an element of Xaelan tribalism that shows as well; Fang necklaces, hanging tassels and colored patterns, it would be hard to ignore such a thing and Subetei wears it proudly.

Heavy Metal: Contrasting to his own creations, Subetei is rarely far from well crafted and maintained arms to the point that even in his most casual moments he will have a hand or cutting axe available. In private this isn't so much a problem, but in public he is usually dragging around a greataxe of proportional size to himself, and this can mean that one is suddenly faced with an over seven fulms tall Xaela with an axe larger than most hyurans. A startling sight to be sure.

Talk Like A Pirate: Despit having been born in Othard, Subetei has spent most of his life and living in Limsa Lominsa, to the extent that he learned the common speech of Eorzea -from- Limsan natives. He speaks with a thick accent of Limsan that on it's own would be rough to discern but he also had the rich, deep and gravel-like voice of a Xaela with their unique speech patterns and inflections. This makes his natural speech difficult to pull apart and understand, though he can control it to some degrees. Speaking more slowly and clearly often allows him to at least be understood with minimal thought.

FACTS —

"Forged in a fire lit long ago, stand next to me and you'll never stand alone.

I'm last to leave but the first to go, lord make me dead before you make me old."

Occupation: Freelance Mercenary, Hunter, Tanner

Specialties: Close Combat, Hunting, Animal Taming & Pack Combat, Archery, Squad Tactics and Battlefield Strategy

Skills: Adept Blacksmith, Expert Tanner and Leatherworker

PROFICIENCY —

"Hey you there in the mirror, yeah that's something to fear

Cla cla claw my way to the top, cause i don't believe in luck."

Education: Self-taught

Favored Weapon(s): Axes of all shapes and sizes

Secondary Weapon(s): Hunting Bows, Knives

Magic Abilities: Berserker Rage (Innate Aether, Uncontrolled

Magic Strengths: Untested, Unknown

RELATIONS —

"I said all this time I'm thinking my body don't need me, all we can do is breathe

Said all this time I'm thinking your body can set me free, all we can do is breathe."

Sexual Preference: Demisexual

Romantic Identification: Monogamous

Relationship Status: Mated

Sweet on: Neyuki

Alignment: True Neutral

Allies: Various Mercenary and Adventurer Friends

Enemies: The Elementals and Various Other Factions

FAMILY —

"By the skin of my teeth, I'm comin' home

By the sole of my feet, I'm comin'home

I'm comin' home, but I ain't comin' home for you."

Maternal: Urnai Noykin (Deceased)

Parental: Ergan Noykin (Unknown)

Mentor: Valdhur Granspar (Former Captain of The Wakehounds Privateers, deceased)

Associates:

Neyuki Utaura (Mate, Companion, Medic)

Mathias Bedois (Friend)

Seemo Eulen (Friend?)

Faucertaux Carpentier (Former Boss, Friend)

Sigrid Der'ioslainn (Former Captain, Friend)

Ulan Qestir (Friend)

Roka (Friend)

Nerkhun Malaguld (Friend, Companion of Ulan)

Bexy and the Limsan Fight Club (Friends and Punch Partners)

Renaux Mercier and the Gin Mills (Friends and Maiming Muchacos)

Illyriana Usagi and the Garden of Words (Friends, FC-Mates and Co-workers)

Alred Briarthorne, Wind Moondark, Asajin & The Black Crown Mercenaries (Former Squadmates and Subordinates)

[List Continues for some time, he knows a lot of folks and I can't name them all oh god]

Companion: Valdhur [Red Chocobo, Warbred]

MENTALITY —

"One day the shadows will surround me. Someday the days will come to end

Sometime I’ll have to face the real me. Somehow I’ll have to learn to bend"

Social Level: Easily coaxed into social behavior. Open and brash. Jovial and quick to friendship. Hard to anger or offend. Comfortable in small groups or large crowds equally.

Optimistic View(s): There is no shame in the work of living, no sin in the act of surviving.

Pessimistic View(s): No one gets out alive. Life will take all it gives in time.

One  Positive Personality Trait:  Subetei is the sort of person who attracts others with a boisterous personality and a hearty laugh, no matter the circumstances. Even in the midst of a fight he can usually find time to crack a smile or a joke and in social settings it is rare he lets someone be a 'wallflower' around him, opening his table and tab to others with little reservation.

One Negative Personality Trait: Subetei is incredibly physical and has no consideration for his own monstrous strength around others. From a simple hand-shake to sparring, he does not hold back in any interaction with others and while this is normally not an issue, it makes it hard to be around him if one is frail or excitable.

·One Personality Warning: Abuse of his trust is tantamount to asking to die when it comes to Subetei. If he considers you a close friend, which takes some work, breaking that bond is traumatic to him in a very personal way and if you're lucky, you'll simply find yourself on the bad end of an ass whooping. If what you'e done is severe enough, he has no qualms about seeking his own revenge and retribution no matter what laws or barriers would stand between him and you.

Random Quirk: Digs his claws into furniture when excited.

Hobbies: Wandering and Riding, Sparring and Training, Physical Labors, Brewing Mead and Alcohol

Addictions: Work, Neyuki, Fighting and Violence

Habits: Glib, Violence Prone, Outgoing and Upbeat, Accidental Intimidation, Intentional Intimidation, Swearing Every Other Word

Pleasures: Good Drink, Hunting, The Outdoors, Working with Animals, Seafaring, Combat and Fighting, Sex, Control

Appreciates (List 5+)

Humility Humor Craftsmanship Beauty Strength Honesty Commitment Self-Control Accomplishment Skill Knowing Ones Self

Dislikes (List 5+)

Defeatism Lies Fire Unearned Authority Disrespect Paranoia False Promises Intolerance

Strengths (List 5+)

Patient Good Teacher Honest and Loyal Hardworking Committed and Dedicated Physical Dynamo Thrifty and Coinwise Good Business Sense Open and Tolerant (Tries to be) Thoughtful Extroverted and Inviting Able to Listen or Chat equally Forgets grudges easily Self-Reliant Outdoorsman Expert Mercenary Tactical Mindset

Weaknesses (List 5+)

Berserker Easy to break Trust Difficulty developing relationships Addicted to combat and violence Mercenary attitude Grey Morality Self-invested Coin Driven No Self-Preservation Neyuki No Family Values Craves Work and Physical Exertion Cannot Cook Carries Weight, Even if he doesn't have to

Fears (List 5+)

Losing Neyuki Losing his remaining eye The loss of freedom Inability To Work or Fight Returning To Othard

FAVORITES ––

“I spent those days huntin' hard and fast, With no place to lay my head

And the sound of the rain against the roof, Was loud enough to wake the dead”

Favorite Food(s): Jerky, Aldgoat Steak, Breadfruit, Stews, Anything La Noscean

Favorite Drink(s): Teas, Ale Mead or Rum, Water, Coffee

Favorite Scent(s): Heat, Dry earth, rain on the breeze, herbs and sweets, metal sparking and copper in the mud

Favorite Colors: Black, Brown, Green and Blue or subcolors

TRIVIA ––

We seek tomorrow’s sun, It’s all for the taking here

Only the valiant survive, Live for better years

Subetei's mixed upbringing has given him a tenuous faith in the Twelve, or the Xaelan deities, and instead he has developed a slightly paganistic viewpoint of the world in the form of natural phenomena. The Salt and Storm, as he calls this viewpoint, is a simple belief that while life is harsh and can be demanding, it's pains and undertakings are rewarding in experience if nothing else. It also holds a certain karmic edge to it as well. He does not really call this a 'religion' or believe others should live like this.

His wounded eye is extraordinarily light sensitive despite being functionally blind and when exposed to sunlight or other equally bright sources it's akin to having the wound reopened with blades of salt and fire. It causes him incredible pain and exposure for a long period can lead to blacking out or migraines so intense they last days. His eyepatch is as much a safety measure as it is a decoration for him and as such he wears extremely well-made patches. Metal wires are used to reinforce the straps and the leather is studded if not inset with metal sheets. He also uses metal ringlets on his horns to hold the patches in place. If he expects particularly pitched or harsh conditions he will often use salves or pastes to hold the patch in place.

With his inherent reliance on instincts and natural tendency to disassociate from morality or consciousness during battle, Subetei has developed a dangerous habit of going into berserker trances during battle that put his already high reflexes into overdrive and his natural senses become sharp enough that he has, for instance, picked up the sound of an arrow approaching and smashed it aside before it can connect with him. While useful and extremely dangerous to others, it presents a unique danger to himself as well, as his already uncomfortably high pain tolerance is also increased and he has been known to inflict damage on himself to continue to fight, even at the risk of health or death.

Subetei has an unstable aether that has never been trained, developed or explored in any respect. He cannot use aetheryte, cast spells or channel it in any meaningful way willingly or consciously and those who try and scry his aetheric strength are faced with a soupy, chaotic mess that does not spell much out. Yet he has been known to perform feats that can only be described as 'inhuman' when he fights unconsciously and in his trances, leading some to conclude that Subetei's aether actively permeates him at all times and empowers him, allowing him to fight at above-optimal strength and focus even when he should be gravely wounded. This is not formally confirmed, but it would explain why he also tends to be quick to recover from wounds and injuries as well as his distaste for sitting still and being idle.

While he and Neyuki share an amazing chemistry that cannot be called anything but 'love', Subetei has historically been awkward and uncomfortable around women and intimacy in the past. During his time before Neyuki he had next to no partners and no long-term relationships due to his emotional issues at his younger age and later on his insistence on isolation. He also has certain physical irregularities that make him wary of sex. When approached sexually or flirtatiously he often comes off as cold and aloof, if not outright dismissive, as he has frankly no fucking idea how to react to it in most circumstances.

While Subetei does a good job of containing it, there is a part of him that thrives in the loosening of his reins and control. This primarily comes to the front during battle when he looses himself, but it also tends to show in other moments where restraint is pressed; This includes his time with Neyuki and they are infamous in certain taverns and inns for the destruction of property that has occurred when Subetei truly lets go of himself, and more than once it has been suggested that Subetei's habit of carrying Neyuki everywhere is a symptom of this.

Subetei can pilot a boat and maintain a ship well enough that he is often comfortable going out by himself on sailboats over moderate distances and he loves the ocean, but a certain thrill-seeking part of him loves the sky and airships. During his time in a mercenary company with such vessels he frequently took out the ship he was assigned and used it for all sorts of activities, both on and off the job.

It cannot be understated the kind of outdoorsman Subetei is, to the extent that he can and has survived over a month in the wilderness with only basic supplies to begin with. During his time as a hunter and mercenary he has learned many survival and wilderness methods that he has also become a scarily accurate tracker and wayfinder, though he often does not use those skills in anything but his actual work. He has discovered some secreted places in his times in the wilderness and though he has recorded them quietly, he does not intend to explore or give away their location. Some things are intriguing to simply know.

Subetei's eye was lost during an extremely controversial moment in Gridanian history, where the Wood Wailers and Twin Adders as well as mercenaries hired by an unconfirmed source, descended on a Keeper of the Moon encampment accused of poaching and harboring criminals to the Shroud. Subetei balked when the order was given to drive the children and non-combatants out of the encampment with fire, an act that would have cost lives, and turned on his employers. Though he survived he harbors a lasting grudge against the Elementals, for allowing such an act to be considered free of sin yet hunting to survive be an act worthy of reprisal, and he further disdains Gridania for their involvement in the action and subsequent attempts to play the act off as the work of factions impersonating Wailers and Adders.

One might be forgiven for assuming Subetei does not speak the Auri dialect anymore after his time in the rest of the world but this is extremely untrue. While he has difficulty reading Auri script nowadays he can still speak fluent and distinct Auri with an old Xaelan syntax and inflection that marks his time away from the Steppe. He chooses not to converse in it often, even among other Xaela, to preserve the air of distance he has from the Xaelan culture and to keep an ear on those around him if they do speak it. He is also fluent in sign and non-verbal gestures as Neyuki is mute, allowing him to communicate with Qester rather comfortably at times.

Subetei is a Noykin by blood and nothing else. He does not use his name as a surname and instead as a title, as if it is only a formal thing, and he does not recognize any other Noykin as his brothers or sisters in any way. Though he still retains many of their skills and love of animals he is long removed form his family and their culture. To introduce oneself to him as a fellow Noykin is to receive the same greeting as anyone else, but he has no patience or acceptance for those who would use the name to garner clout with him.

OOC -

Server: Balmung

Timezone: PST

Mun: Male / 28yrs

Experience: Roleplay Experience of 14+ years. Writes in any format, matches length and complexity where possible. Will scene In-Game, Discord and other mediums as requested.

Type of RP: Any/All, Mature and R-Rated themes included. Long-term Storylines or One-shot scenes. Enjoys interacting with Canon and OC alike.

Looking for: Friends, Partners, Punchvictims, Employers, Brothers or Sisters in Arms, Privateers and Pirates, Gridanians and Ishgardians to grouse at, Rivals or Antagonists. Pretty much anyone!

RP Hunting Time!

This post is mainly an RP call for anyone who’s interested in plotting, roleplaying or otherwise hanging out ICly. I’m not looking for anything in particular, no specific scenes or types of scenes, Subetei is flexible morally and ideologically.

Need a hired hand? Gil makes for strange bedfellows. Old pirate or mercenary contact? Sounds like drinks at a tavern. Want to fight? Time to fight. Canon or OC, no difference to me.

I’m not sure how I feel about AUs and the like, so anything like that would need it’s own discussion!

Feel free to directly message me here on Tumblr or on Discord at Versesai#3794!

[subetei-noykin]

In-depth Profile, Subetei Noykin

Note: Stolen/taken from @miss-bullets-and-booze who made it for her character and it seemed like a fantastic way to get back into Subetei for me!

IDENTIFICATION —

"Can't you see I'm sorry? I'll make it worth your while.

I'm made of dead mans money, you can see it in my smile.”

Full Name: Subetei of the Noykin

Pronunciation: Sue-be-tei

Pseudonym: X

Nicknames: Scales

Age: Thirty Cycles

Name Day: 32nd Sun of the 4th Astral Moon

Birthplace: Azim Steppes, Othard

Guardian: The Salt and Storm

Residence: Limsa Lominsa / Semi-Nomadic

REFERENCES —

"Thousand faces staring at me, thousand times I've fallen.

Thousand voices dead at my feet. Now I'm gone, now I'm gone, now I'm gone.”

Motto:  “Take only what you're willing to have taken, give only what you're willing to get.”

Theme Song: Fire - Barns Courtney

Face Claim: Jason Momoa (Sorry not Sorry)

STATS —

"The deepest waters won't take me, the highest fall won't break me.

The blood and sweat is what made me, made me."

Gender: Male

Race: Au Ra, Xaela Tribe (Noykin)

Height: Seven fulms, one ilm

Weight: Two-hundred sixty one ponze

Eyes: Narrow and hawkish, right eye crystalline blue with large pupil, left damaged and milky white with blood infiltration in the orb

Hair: Steel gray with straw blonde tips, swept back and spiked with four long braids in the front. Medium length at first glance, actually shoulder blade length.

Skin: Purple-Blue, rough and calloused with hard lines

Build: Muscular and toned but wide and sturdy, good bone structure

Auri Features: Dark Blue/Purple scales over majority of face and body including jaw line and nose bridge. Six visible horns, two pronounced which have metallic inserts on their tips and dagger-like shape while the remaining four rise from his hairline and scalp

Scars: Left eye, center chest, shoulder, innumerable others of varying seriousness

Tattoos/Marks: None

At First Glance (+5)

A Warrior: Spotting him in a crowd is rarely hard and he is typically armed, though rarely fully armored. It's in the way he holds himself, the rhythm he moves and the gait which threatens to push those who step in his path over. Even without his rough appearance or scars, or even the callouses on his hands, it would be hard to mistake him for anything but what he is with his body language and the myriad of battle scars covering him. He may smile and laugh, be friendly and around his mate he can even be seen as a gentle man, but there is always a sharpness to his eye and readiness for violence that reads in him clearly enough to put others off.

Odd-Eye: While his eye-patches admirably hide it, Subetei's left eye is utterly decimated and even the surrounding skin shows tell-tale burns, scar edges and fissures of skin that have healed and marred over. It is impossible to not notice in good lighting and seeing it is unsettling to say the least. Underneath it is even worse; The eye has been split and sealed, re-healed and fused to the skin in some places. The milky white orb is bloodshot in places and has flecks of blood mixed in, with no real pupil, and some parts of the bone stick out near the edges of the eye. It is a gruesome sight and it is why he rarely removes his eye patch.

Self-Made: While he does wear some items professionally made or fitted, the vast majority of what Subetei wears is hand-stitched and crafted by him for his own purposes and as such it is rare to find him not wearing something made of hide, leather or decked in fur. While not ugly or poor quality there is a definite simplicity in his designs that shows. Hardly flashy or elegant, there is also an element of Xaelan tribalism that shows as well; Fang necklaces, hanging tassels and colored patterns, it would be hard to ignore such a thing and Subetei wears it proudly.

Heavy Metal: Contrasting to his own creations, Subetei is rarely far from well crafted and maintained arms to the point that even in his most casual moments he will have a hand or cutting axe available. In private this isn't so much a problem, but in public he is usually dragging around a greataxe of proportional size to himself, and this can mean that one is suddenly faced with an over seven fulms tall Xaela with an axe larger than most hyurans. A startling sight to be sure.

Talk Like A Pirate: Despit having been born in Othard, Subetei has spent most of his life and living in Limsa Lominsa, to the extent that he learned the common speech of Eorzea -from- Limsan natives. He speaks with a thick accent of Limsan that on it's own would be rough to discern but he also had the rich, deep and gravel-like voice of a Xaela with their unique speech patterns and inflections. This makes his natural speech difficult to pull apart and understand, though he can control it to some degrees. Speaking more slowly and clearly often allows him to at least be understood with minimal thought.

FACTS —

"Forged in a fire lit long ago, stand next to me and you'll never stand alone.

I'm last to leave but the first to go, lord make me dead before you make me old."

Occupation: Freelance Mercenary, Hunter, Tanner

Specialties: Close Combat, Hunting, Animal Taming & Pack Combat, Archery, Squad Tactics and Battlefield Strategy

Skills: Adept Blacksmith, Expert Tanner and Leatherworker

PROFICIENCY —

"Hey you there in the mirror, yeah that's something to fear

Cla cla claw my way to the top, cause i don't believe in luck."

Education: Self-taught

Favored Weapon(s): Axes of all shapes and sizes

Secondary Weapon(s): Hunting Bows, Knives

Magic Abilities: Berserker Rage (Innate Aether, Uncontrolled

Magic Strengths: Untested, Unknown

RELATIONS —

"I said all this time I'm thinking my body don't need me, all we can do is breathe

Said all this time I'm thinking your body can set me free, all we can do is breathe."

Sexual Preference: Demisexual

Romantic Identification: Monogamous

Relationship Status: Mated

Sweet on: Neyuki

Alignment: True Neutral

Allies: Various Mercenary and Adventurer Friends

Enemies: The Elementals and Various Other Factions

FAMILY —

"By the skin of my teeth, I'm comin' home

By the sole of my feet, I'm comin'home

I'm comin' home, but I ain't comin' home for you."

Maternal: Urnai Noykin (Deceased)

Parental: Ergan Noykin (Unknown)

Mentor: Valdhur Granspar (Former Captain of The Wakehounds Privateers, deceased)

Associates: 

Neyuki Utaura (Mate, Companion, Medic)

Mathias Bedois (Friend)

Seemo Eulen (Friend?)

Faucertaux Carpentier (Former Boss, Friend)

Sigrid Der'ioslainn (Former Captain, Friend)

Ulan Qestir (Friend)

Roka (Friend)

Nerkhun Malaguld (Friend, Companion of Ulan)

Bexy and the Limsan Fight Club (Friends and Punch Partners)

Jun'to Nharuya and the Gin Mills (Friends and Maiming Muchacos)

Alred Briarthorne, Wind Moondark, Asajin & The Black Crown Mercenaries (Former Squadmates and Subordinates)

[List Continues for some time, he knows a lot of folks and I can't name them all oh god]

Companion: Valdhur [Red Chocobo, Warbred]

MENTALITY —

"One day the shadows will surround me. Someday the days will come to end

Sometime I’ll have to face the real me. Somehow I’ll have to learn to bend"

Social Level: Easily coaxed into social behavior. Open and brash. Jovial and quick to friendship. Hard to anger or offend. Comfortable in small groups or large crowds equally.

Optimistic View(s): There is no shame in the work of living, no sin in the act of surviving.

Pessimistic View(s): No one gets out alive. Life will take all it gives in time.

One  Positive Personality Trait:  Subetei is the sort of person who attracts others with a boisterous personality and a hearty laugh, no matter the circumstances. Even in the midst of a fight he can usually find time to crack a smile or a joke and in social settings it is rare he lets someone be a 'wallflower' around him, opening his table and tab to others with little reservation.

One Negative Personality Trait: Subetei is incredibly physical and has no consideration for his own monstrous strength around others. From a simple hand-shake to sparring, he does not hold back in any interaction with others and while this is normally not an issue, it makes it hard to be around him if one is frail or excitable.

·One Personality Warning: Abuse of his trust is tantamount to asking to die when it comes to Subetei. If he considers you a close friend, which takes some work, breaking that bond is traumatic to him in a very personal way and if you're lucky, you'll simply find yourself on the bad end of an ass whooping. If what you'e done is severe enough, he has no qualms about seeking his own revenge and retribution no matter what laws or barriers would stand between him and you.

Random Quirk: Digs his claws into furniture when excited.

Hobbies: Wandering and Riding, Sparring and Training, Physical Labors, Brewing Mead and Alcohol

Addictions: Work, Neyuki, Fighting and Violence

Habits: Glib, Violence Prone, Outgoing and Upbeat, Accidental Intimidation, Intentional Intimidation, Swearing Every Other Word

Pleasures: Good Drink, Hunting, The Outdoors, Working with Animals, Seafaring, Combat and Fighting, Sex, Control

Appreciates (List 5+)

Humility Humor Craftsmanship Beauty Strength Honesty Commitment Self-Control Accomplishment Skill Knowing Ones Self

Dislikes (List 5+)

Defeatism Lies Fire Unearned Authority Disrespect Paranoia False Promises Intolerance

Strengths (List 5+)

Patient Good Teacher Honest and Loyal Hardworking Committed and Dedicated Physical Dynamo Thrifty and Coinwise Good Business Sense Open and Tolerant (Tries to be) Thoughtful Extroverted and Inviting Able to Listen or Chat equally Forgets grudges easily Self-Reliant Outdoorsman Expert Mercenary Tactical Mindset

Weaknesses (List 5+)

Berserker Easy to break Trust Difficulty developing relationships Addicted to combat and violence Mercenary attitude Grey Morality Self-invested Coin Driven No Self-Preservation Neyuki No Family Values Craves Work and Physical Exertion Cannot Cook Carries Weight, Even if he doesn't have to

Fears (List 5+)

Losing Neyuki Losing his remaining eye The loss of freedom Inability To Work or Fight Returning To Othard

FAVORITES ––

“I spent those days huntin' hard and fast, With no place to lay my head

And the sound of the rain against the roof, Was loud enough to wake the dead”

Favorite Food(s): Jerky, Aldgoat Steak, Breadfruit, Stews, Anything La Noscean

Favorite Drink(s): Teas, Ale Mead or Rum, Water, Coffee

Favorite Scent(s): Heat, Dry earth, rain on the breeze, herbs and sweets, metal sparking and copper in the mud

Favorite Colors: Black, Brown, Green and Blue or subcolors

TRIVIA ––

We seek tomorrow’s sun, It’s all for the taking here 

Only the valiant survive, Live for better years

Subetei's mixed upbringing has given him a tenuous faith in the Twelve, or the Xaelan deities, and instead he has developed a slightly paganistic viewpoint of the world in the form of natural phenomena. The Salt and Storm, as he calls this viewpoint, is a simple belief that while life is harsh and can be demanding, it's pains and undertakings are rewarding in experience if nothing else. It also holds a certain karmic edge to it as well. He does not really call this a 'religion' or believe others should live like this.

His wounded eye is extraordinarily light sensitive despite being functionally blind and when exposed to sunlight or other equally bright sources it's akin to having the wound reopened with blades of salt and fire. It causes him incredible pain and exposure for a long period can lead to blacking out or migraines so intense they last days. His eyepatch is as much a safety measure as it is a decoration for him and as such he wears extremely well-made patches. Metal wires are used to reinforce the straps and the leather is studded if not inset with metal sheets. He also uses metal ringlets on his horns to hold the patches in place. If he expects particularly pitched or harsh conditions he will often use salves or pastes to hold the patch in place.

With his inherent reliance on instincts and natural tendency to disassociate from morality or consciousness during battle, Subetei has developed a dangerous habit of going into berserker trances during battle that put his already high reflexes into overdrive and his natural senses become sharp enough that he has, for instance, picked up the sound of an arrow approaching and smashed it aside before it can connect with him. While useful and extremely dangerous to others, it presents a unique danger to himself as well, as his already uncomfortably high pain tolerance is also increased and he has been known to inflict damage on himself to continue to fight, even at the risk of health or death.

Subetei has an unstable aether that has never been trained, developed or explored in any respect. He cannot use aetheryte, cast spells or channel it in any meaningful way willingly or consciously and those who try and scry his aetheric strength are faced with a soupy, chaotic mess that does not spell much out. Yet he has been known to perform feats that can only be described as 'inhuman' when he fights unconsciously and in his trances, leading some to conclude that Subetei's aether actively permeates him at all times and empowers him, allowing him to fight at above-optimal strength and focus even when he should be gravely wounded. This is not formally confirmed, but it would explain why he also tends to be quick to recover from wounds and injuries as well as his distaste for sitting still and being idle.

While he and Neyuki share an amazing chemistry that cannot be called anything but 'love', Subetei has historically been awkward and uncomfortable around women and intimacy in the past. During his time before Neyuki he had next to no partners and no long-term relationships due to his emotional issues at his younger age and later on his insistence on isolation. He also has certain physical irregularities that make him wary of sex. When approached sexually or flirtatiously he often comes off as cold and aloof, if not outright dismissive, as he has frankly no fucking idea how to react to it in most circumstances.

While Subetei does a good job of containing it, there is a part of him that thrives in the loosening of his reins and control. This primarily comes to the front during battle when he looses himself, but it also tends to show in other moments where restraint is pressed; This includes his time with Neyuki and they are infamous in certain taverns and inns for the destruction of property that has occurred when Subetei truly lets go of himself, and more than once it has been suggested that Subetei's habit of carrying Neyuki everywhere is a symptom of this.

Subetei can pilot a boat and maintain a ship well enough that he is often comfortable going out by himself on sailboats over moderate distances and he loves the ocean, but a certain thrill-seeking part of him loves the sky and airships. During his time in a mercenary company with such vessels he frequently took out the ship he was assigned and used it for all sorts of activities, both on and off the job.

It cannot be understated the kind of outdoorsman Subetei is, to the extent that he can and has survived over a month in the wilderness with only basic supplies to begin with. During his time as a hunter and mercenary he has learned many survival and wilderness methods that he has also become a scarily accurate tracker and wayfinder, though he often does not use those skills in anything but his actual work. He has discovered some secreted places in his times in the wilderness and though he has recorded them quietly, he does not intend to explore or give away their location. Some things are intriguing to simply know.

Subetei's eye was lost during an extremely controversial moment in Gridanian history, where the Wood Wailers and Twin Adders as well as mercenaries hired by an unconfirmed source, descended on a Keeper of the Moon encampment accused of poaching and harboring criminals to the Shroud. Subetei balked when the order was given to drive the children and non-combatants out of the encampment with fire, an act that would have cost lives, and turned on his employers. Though he survived he harbors a lasting grudge against the Elementals, for allowing such an act to be considered free of sin yet hunting to survive be an act worthy of reprisal, and he further disdains Gridania for their involvement in the action and subsequent attempts to play the act off as the work of factions impersonating Wailers and Adders.

One might be forgiven for assuming Subetei does not speak the Auri dialect anymore after his time in the rest of the world but this is extremely untrue. While he has difficulty reading Auri script nowadays he can still speak fluent and distinct Auri with an old Xaelan syntax and inflection that marks his time away from the Steppe. He chooses not to converse in it often, even among other Xaela, to preserve the air of distance he has from the Xaelan culture and to keep an ear on those around him if they do speak it. He is also fluent in sign and non-verbal gestures as Neyuki is mute, allowing him to communicate with Qester rather comfortably at times.

Subetei is a Noykin by blood and nothing else. He does not use his name as a surname and instead as a title, as if it is only a formal thing, and he does not recognize any other Noykin as his brothers or sisters in any way. Though he still retains many of their skills and love of animals he is long removed form his family and their culture. To introduce oneself to him as a fellow Noykin is to receive the same greeting as anyone else, but he has no patience or acceptance for those who would use the name to garner clout with him.

OOC -

Server: Balmung

Timezone: PST

Mun: Male / 27yrs

Experience: Roleplay Experience of 14+ years. Writes in any format, matches length and complexity where possible. Will scene In-Game, Discord and other mediums as requested.

Type of RP: Any/All, Mature and R-Rated themes included. Long-term Storylines or One-shot scenes. Enjoys interacting with Canon and OC alike.

Looking for: Friends, Partners, Punchvictims, Employers, Brothers or Sisters in Arms, Privateers and Pirates, Gridanians and Ishgardians to grouse at, Rivals or Antagonists. Pretty much anyone!

Tagging: @tarot-dancer @the-false-ser-toes @ulanqestir @alred-briarthorne @nharuya @rokachan @windflower-moondark @sigridderioslainn @falconsgaze @uurkhilen @theolder @cranialupi @healerstail @lamiavuinuet @muffinsandglasses @lorythas @an-ale-of-a-tale @trishelle @kulain @riskibusiness @doman-swordswoman @snowy-catte @snowcoeurl-xiv @snowdrop-xiv @praise-nhaama @ayyymeric @aymeric-the-blue @accaliadecorus @heretiques-xiv @shirtlesslizard @degeneratemagicalcatgirl @bexyamalaryssia @illyrianausagi @skysteelsun @the-hawkeyes @dietkoalawithlime @chiffon-rabbit @connor-is-the-captain-of-my-bed @wyrmbled @lordcommanderaymeric @safestsephiroth @freshorenjuice @moryera @wyvernjack-xiv @rexnorh @maybeimawhale @eiragos

I can’t keep tagging but this maelstrom of tags if brought to by ‘I wanna interact with everyone but have only one soul to sell for more free time so if ya’all got tagged or even if you didn’t, please feel free to hit me up for the RP’.