#twinpool

[twistedtwinsproductions]

Twinning in our DEADPOOL suits with Princess Diana. Classic twinning. #twinning #SoskaSisters #Deadpool #Twinpool #PD #RottieHottie https://www.instagram.com/p/Coh7brOJqaK1dSaQpB9cMudOcamd99T3yLQu340/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[housedeaubemarle]

The Grand Hunt - Part 4: The Trophy

Part 1: The Call

Part 2: The Tracking

Part 3: The Hunt

(written with @escherstrange-ffxiv who keeps on being amazing and mindbogglingly strong - we did it! We finished it!)

~*~

“Excuse me sir, has something happened? Why does everyone look so worried?”

The airship port worker furrows his brow, scratching his head under his tweed cap. Considering how the questioner has just stepped off the ship, a thick cloak round her shoulders and luggage in hand, the question makes sense.

“Horde attack about two hours past, lady - terrible business. The guards are out there now, sweeping the grounds; Ishgard even sent the Knights, and no wonder - two blasts they threw and the ground shook like nothing else. Hear tell they’ve already sent word to Twinpools for the dragon hunters.” He grimaces. “Think there were some casualties, poor souls.”

The eyes of the lady before him widen visibly. “Fury have mercy.”

The worker shakes his head. “Once a dragon, always a dragon.”

“I beg to disagree,” is a sudden reply. It comes from an Elezen who steps up neatly beside the lady. He’s visibly taller than her, but also wears travel garb, with bags in both hands. “Nidhogg’s hordes don’t speak for those who seek peace with Ishgard.”

The dock worker is about to object, but sees the glint in the newcomer’s dark brown eyes, even as his posture is relaxed, and voice civilly smooth.

“Well, can’t blame a man when half the cliff is gone,” he says gruffly.

“No, perhaps not.” He looks sideways at the woman, whose brow is wrinkled in concern. “Come on, Dine. Sooner we get home, sooner you can get that look off your face.”

She nods, then looks back to the worker. “Thank you. Fury keep you,” she says kindly before moving away with her companion.

The worker bows shortly, still stinging a little from her companion’s remark. He turns back to his duties, not quite hearing a shocked “Cillien!” from behind him. 

Some way away from the airships, Cillien faces his employer, his face the very picture of surprise. “Lady Oudine?” His blue eyes dart to the person with her; the shock increases sharply. “Lord Remont! Wha- how-”

Remont tilts his head in some confusion. “That should be our question considering how we had planned this as a surprise.”

Cilien stares at him as if he were speaking Doman. “S-surprise?”

“Yes, Rem said he’d come home with me to visit Mamma,” says Oudine with no less bewilderment. “We took the first airship out of Tailfeather, and the wind was with us. But we just heard there was an attack-” She stops. “Why are you here?”

“I… ah…” Cillien looks back and forth between his masters, trying to find the right words. “Well-”

“Cillien, I found them!”

Everyone looks up to see a much shorter Hyur running towards them, panting from his efforts. “It took some doing but they’re-” He screeches to a halt, suddenly realising exactly who Cillien is standing with. “Milady! Milord!”

Oudine’s mouth opens again to see another familiar face, in a completely unexpected place. “Lamb?”

Remont’s eyes jump from the dismay on Cillien’s face, to the horror in Lamb’s, to the utter stupefaction of Oudine’s. He puts a hand on his sister’s shoulder bracingly, as he asks, “Who exactly have you found, Lamb?”

~*~

“Isillud…? Izzy.”

The exhaustion is too deeply set, so it takes a few more shakes before the grey Elezen can bring himself to bleary consciousness. Stiffness and aches begin clamouring for attention across his body, resulting in a heartfelt groan. The waking world is too cruel for someone who’s been through as much as he has in one morning. Eventually, very eventually, his eyes focus.

A very tall, rather tanned Elezen, with short chestnut hair and an undercut, vaguely familiar dark brown eyes and attractive cheekbones, looks back at him. He wears a small smile as he places a mug on the bedside table.

“It’s been a while, cousin.”

It is a familiar scene with a familiar feeling: The languid tone like silk in his ears, the aroma of coffee tickling his nose, and too-bright sunlight pushing through the thin curtains.

The only difference is that Isillud Losstarot isn't buck naked; he checked.

That's when he realises he's still in the present: He's at Falcon's Nest, he brought Rewelle here. He sits up but the room begins to spin and he falls back onto the pillow. "Rewelle, will she be alright…?"

That that should be Isillud’s first question makes Remont’s smile grow. 

“She’s been stabilised, the healer told us, but still not awake,” he says, putting the back of his hand against Isillud’s forehead, gently brushing his bangs aside, to check for a temperature. He puts it to the side of the patient’s face as well, for good measure. “We won’t move her home until she regains consciousness.”

Satisfied that there isn’t a fever, he settles a thin blanket back over Isillud, now a little paler from his exertions. Remont sits back in the wooden chair next to the bed.

Isillud leans into Remont's hand, reluctant enough to look a little pained when his cousin returns to his chair but awkward enough to not look him in the eyes. "I see," he simply says.

“I’m sorry to wake you, but the innkeeper said you’ve been out cold since you got them to see to Rewelle. Had to check if you were rational, in addition to being alive. Also to keep Dine from worrying herself to death over you.” The smile becomes rather rueful. “Her concern also involves your brother despite his absence. Do you wish us to let him know where you are?” The dark brown eyes take on a curious gleam. “Or are you expecting him shortly?”

Remont's question assures him that Joshua and Escher weren't around at least, though he silently prays they made it to Ishgard without rousing suspicion. "Just tell Joshua we are…well." His pretty face frowns a little, "...What are you doing here?"

The other man considers his response. Izzy looks like he's been crumpled up and thrown about like a - while still beautiful - scrap of paper despite the stoic message for his own brother. Whatever agreement they'd had in the past - when they’d found out exactly whose son each of them had been - doesn't preclude a little levity to try and ease the tension.

So he just says lightly, “Taking care of you, since it seems you can't be trusted to do it yourself.”

The tips of Isillud's ears flush slightly pink at Remont's answer. He's still your cousin, Izzy, he reminds himself. "I just do it differently," he retorts, sulking slightly. Remont might remember that he sleeps in and used to neglect regular meals but it doesn't mean he'll admit it. Not to family, anyway.

Remont chuckles. In culinary terms, it’d be a dark chocolate brownie of a laugh: delightful, warm, maybe just a little too rich for comfort. Just a touch.

“Very well, little cousin, though I’m not sure I agree with your methods.” He leans back in the chair, looking as comfortable as if it were the plushest armchair known to man. “I’m here to visit my dear old mother - a surprise from her darling boy whose new haircut I’m sure she will adore.” He turns his head left and right rather proudly.

Isillud can't help but smile at the cornrows in the side. "She will certainly have much to say about it. I don't think I fit the style, though I do see its appeal."

Remont almost asks whether his cousin sees the appeal in the haircut itself, or on him specifically, just to see if the smile will become a blush. 

Instead, he continues, “Also I wanted to see my celebrated cousins for myself. Dine says you’ve been acquitting yourselves well in high society.” 

Isillud twirls a lock of his hair, partly flustered and partly proud at Remont's compliment. "It's all Joshua, really. He has a knack for it I never had. And you? Are you still adventuring?"

“I'm flattered that you think me, a spoiled highborn son, an adventurer,” says Remont with a boyish grin. “Say rather I've not been travelling much, not since we’ve expanded the Ranch’s breeding facilities to keep up with demand. Even I’ve had to be on hand, getting up at odd hours to help feed the chicks and check on the nests. Yet I never thought I’d see orders coming from the likes of Doma, so it's worth it.”

"Never thought I'd see the day Remont de Aubemarle becomes a chocobo rancher instead of bounding off on the next adventure. Perhaps you might take up the mantle of Viscount too?" Isillud teases.

The other Elezen just smiles; he's not about to take easy bait like that. “Hardly. ‘Tis Dine’s good management, I believe, much like Joshua’s knack.” He gazes at Isillud for a short minute, as if looking for something. Then his smile seems to grow quite gentle. “Such reliable siblings we’ve been blessed with, Izzy. Strange, isn’t it, that they care so much for us in spite of our own opinions?” 

Isillud snuggles back into bed, loosening a button on his collar; he's not slept fully clothed in bed since childhood and it smothers him so. "As we do for them. It goes both ways."

Remont doesn't miss the flash of neck and collarbone, and also doesn't take such bait, sitting quite comfortably in his chair.

“Will you tell me what happened, if I ask nicely?” His tone would be more suited to asking whether Isillud prefers tea or coffee.

Isillud's beaming smile is half hidden by his pillow and the soft strands of white hair falling over his face. "Let me hear your best attempt first, cousin." Even if Remont is a cousin and older, he's not going to let him off easy.

Remont snorts in amusement, enjoying the look of angelic innocence radiating off the other Elezen. it's the white hair, he thinks - quite a halo-like appearance. He moves his chair, just so he can lean closer.

“If you wanted a bedtime story, you could've just asked.” And because Remont can't help himself, he reaches out to stroke Isillud's soft hair, like he's soothing a child to sleep.

“The innkeeper says a man carried the lass in, and said he'd been hired to escort her to her cousin's in the Nest. They'd gotten caught in the attacks and she'd gotten hurt terribly. Please get a healer at once, the man had said, and a clean, airy room. Don't bother about him; he would shift for himself. Of course that wouldn't do, so this most compassionate proprietor had one of his workers give the man a room while they hastened for help for the poor young lady.

“Cillien and Lamb, the reason we found you, say the innkeeper perhaps had misheard. Lord Isillud had merely been kind enough to offer his escort for Rewelle to her cousin's at the Nest, particularly since her ladyship the Viscountess requested for both the lords’ assistance. They are here because they'd heard of the attacks and became worried.”

Remont's fingers don't stop their slow, languorous movements, just like his calm, even voice.

“It is extremely curious why you didn't take the easier route of the airship, and somehow ended up just outside the Bridge where the cliff got destroyed.”

His touch reminds Isillud of when his mother used to put him to bed, her long fingers gently massaging his scalp as she told stories of illustrious and noble ancestors.

"Extremely curious indeed," he murmurs, hovering over the edge of sleep with such gentle ministrations. "Why, it almost seems like it was entirely orchestrated to get rid of some ne'er do wells who had attacked one of the Viscountess's staff…and perhaps as a warning sign to the ignoble who employed them."

Remont just hums in reply, saying nothing more. He watches his cousin's eyes close fully again, making sure to keep patting Isillud's head till the breathing is slow, and even-paced.

“You and your brother have done much for us, Izzy,” he whispers. “I wonder if you even knew the risks you undertook.” He drops a quick – and to his credit, quite fraternal – kiss on Isillud's brow then rises to quietly leave the room.

Outside, his sister stands, hands crossed, staring at the door of Rewelle's room as if it had committed a cardinal sin. 

Only when he calls her name and touches her shoulder does she look up. The glare softens at once. “Is he alright?”

Remont nods. “Come, we shouldn't talk here. Let’s take a walk outside.”

The siblings head downstairs, where Cillien is having an overdue bite to eat. He stands when he sees his masters appear, but Oudine waves him back down. 

“It’s alright, please carry on with your meal. I must confer with my brother on what to do next.”

“Yes, milady.”

Remont throws him a smile as he nods at Cillien's plate. “Any good?”

Cillien returns a helpless grin. “Aubemarle has spoilt me hopelessly, milord, but it will do. Cook would have an opinion or three, I shouldn't wonder.”

Remont chuckles, and even Oudine finally cracks a smile. “Good man.” He gives Cillien another nod and walks with his sister out of the inn. 

Instinctively, Oudine tucks her hand around Remont's elbow as they begin their aimless stroll. The streets bustle with activity - people are running back and forth, spreading news and rumours alike. Several armoured men move amongst the crowd.

“It seems we owe our cousins thanks,” says Remont in a low voice, unfazed by his surroundings. 

“How so?” 

“Izzy alluded to an attack on one of the staff, and an ‘ignoble’ whom the attackers worked for.”

Oudine stares out into the street, swiftly putting theories and possible pieces together. “Ajax.” Her brows meet in a fierce glare. “That bastard arranged an attack on Rewelle?”

Remont is probably the only person who wouldn't bat an eyelash at Oudine swearing. “I am unsurprised. Even Tramault can't make things disappear if Ajax is involved directly.” He narrows his eyes. “The Losstarots must have lured Rewelle's attackers out of the city. I assume they had plans to get rid of them somehow, but dragonfire would have changed everything. I can't quite account for Joshua, but then, it's best for the head of the Losstarots not to be seen.” 

Oudine’s mind races with this new information. “Then that means they used Rewelle as bait. Joshua and Isillud might have been discovered. They could have been killed.” Her grip around Remont's elbow tightens. “Idiots.”

Remont pats her tense hand. “Rewelle wouldn't have agreed if she didn't want to.”

She shakes her head. “She's a maid in our employ. There is something to be said for power imbalances.”

“Like the one between us and the Gaussains,” replies Remont calmly. “I think they had little choice.”

Oudine falls silent, but her hold on his elbow does loosen a little.

“Why?” She asks at last. “Why would they do so much for us? For Rewelle? They're finally starting to see progress within Ishgard - the name of Losstarot is becoming more known for their generosity amongst the lowborn and abilities to the high. Why risk all that for… for such distant kin as us?”

Remont looks at his sister. “I thought you liked them.”

“I do like them, hence I refuse to treat them as tools to be used when convenient and put away when not,” says Oudine with frustration. “Rewelle too is not an object for us to move as and when we please.”

“...Dine.” now he pauses, so he can look her in the eye. His voice is gentle.

“Have you considered, perhaps, they also like our family enough to help us? That when they heard Rewelle was in trouble, they helped because it was right to do so, Gaussains or no?”

Oudine stares up at her brother's serious expression. Then she looks down, shaking her head at herself. 

Remont pulls her into a tight hug. “I'm sorry I left you with those Ishgardian beasts for so long, Viscount. You seem to have forgotten that there are trustworthy men even here.”

She closes her eyes, leans her forehead against his shoulder. “Then stay longer this time, Rem. At least long enough to help me hunt down one of them.”

He smirks. “You're set on it then.”

“Yes.” She raises her head, and the expression on her face resembles the Dowager's when provoked. “Gaussain has overreached.”

Remont's smirk widens. “Understood, milord. First, we have to take care of our injured.”

She nods. “I have some ideas.”

~*~

Early the next morning, a carriage draws up to the Losstarot residence. While Remont remembers Isillud's tendency to sleep in, they also want to check on Rewelle and Lamb who's been tasked to watch over her while the Aubemarle party returned to Ishgard the evening before.

Remont jumps down to go knock on the front door. 

“Remont de Aubemarle,” says the Elezen to Ser Drouhont. “Apologies for such short notice, but we're here for Lord Joshua de Losstarot. We'd like to bring him to Falcon's Nest, if he would be so kind as to accompany me and Viscount Oudine.”

"Mine apologies, but the young lord was entertaining an eminent Sharlayan scholar until late last night and is now nursing a dreadful headache. He has given express orders to not be disturbed." Drouhont bows deeply. "May I have the honour of passing him a message when he wakes?"

Remont only just manages to bite back a laugh at this frank declaration. He knows of Joshua enough to conclude Isillud isn't the only one paying for their part in this scheme.

“I understand. Pass him my sympathies, and an invitation to the Polar Head inn, in Falcon's Nest. If he can't rise, please reassure him we will return his brother safely before the day is out.”

When he returns to the carriage alone, Oudine just raises her eyebrows inquiringly. 

He grins. “Joshua is indisposed, but I've left the message. I'm sure he'll come find us.” Or not, depending on how long his head keeps pounding.

Oudine casts a doubtful look at him. “I know it's early but isn't he worried about Isillud?”

Remont snickers as the carriage goes on its way to the airship port. “Don't fret, Dine - those brothers have their own way of taking care of each other.”

Meanwhile, Drouhont closes the manor doors with a quiet click then drifts to the drawing room where Joshua lies with an ice pack on his head, shoes kicked off haphazardly and resting at a table leg.

"Fuck you Izzy, you left me with a fucking madman," Joshua mutters, the few short years spent in Limsa showing in his colourful language. He doesn't even move his head to look at Drouhont. "Who was it?"

"Lord Remont de Aubemarle came to bring you to Falcon's Nest to see your brother. I told them you are unwell as per your orders and he said he will return Isillud safely before the day is out."

Joshua tenses. He moves his head but moans when the room spins, returning to his initial position on the pillow. "So he's well, and they've found out."

"That would seem to be so, milord. Shall I prepare a carriage?"

"What for, to yell at him? We all know what happened. I'll yell at him when he comes back." Joshua turns to the backrest - the patterns are more soothing to sore eyes - and curls up. "Keep telling people I'm sick, Drouhont."

"Very well, milord." Drouhont bows and drifts out the door. He wonders briefly if his ex-commanding officer is aware of it yet.

~*~

Ser Lucille sighs at the slightly wider gap between Black Iron Bridge. "Dragonfire, you say?"

"Well, there was a report of a Sharlayan scholar at The Pike doin' some research."

She rolls her eyes. If it's who it is, the dragons are less paperwork. "We'll find them if we have the time. For now focus on weeding out the dragons. They must be around somewhere."

~*~

Sydney takes a sip of Thavnairian chai - hot, burning, and creamy, just the way he likes it. A half-folded letter is tossed carelessly onto a side table. "Nasser."

A tall broad-shouldered Raen pokes his head out from the kitchen, wiping his spice-laden hands. "Sir?"

"Our guest should be reaching the airship landing soon. Could you pick him up and bring him straight to his destination?"

"You do not wish to meet him?"

"I don't want to hear a common thug's desires." He removes his pince-nez to wipe the lenses.

"Very well." Nasser hangs up his apron by the door and heads out.

~*~

Back at the Polar Head, there is a knock, then another, on the door of Isillud's room. 

Lamb the footman had also been tasked to see to Isillud's needs. While it might have been a chore some days ago, Lamb now would run to Dalmasca and back if Isillud wished it. Anything could be done for the one who saved Rewelle.

“Lord Isillud?” 

Isillud groans at the door. Not even when he was in exile was he subject to so many interruptions. Instead he throws the pillow over his head and sleeps some more.

Lamb can’t help grinning when he hears the groan from within. Instead of leaving, he opens the door quietly. Without another sound so as not to disturb the snoozing figure in the bed, he leaves a can of hot water, an enamel basin and a fresh towel on the bedside table. On the chair, he drapes a clean shirt and trousers - originally Cillien’s - since he’s fairly sure Lord Isillud would prefer a change of clothes when he wakes, even if it’s just humble cotton and linen. 

He leaves as silently as he entered, then moves onto another room. Its occupant doesn’t open her eyes until he hovers over her.

She blinks awake, focuses on his face, and offers a smile. “No luck then?” she asks in a hoarse, weak voice. It’s still music to Lamb’s ears after her entire ordeal. 

It is well after midnight, in some blessed hour, when Lamb is jolted awake from where he’s bent over, half sleeping on Rewelle’s bed. His lower back yells mutiny at him, but it is nothing since he’d just felt someone touch his hair.

The candles have gone out, but he can vaguely see her looking at him.

“Thank the Fury and all the gods,” says Lamb fervently, grasping her hand and pressing it to his lips without thinking. He gets up to see her face closer, still holding onto her hand. 

“Where…” she tries, but the sound is weak and creaky. She winces at a pain that shoots into her torso.

“Falcon’s Nest. Lord Isillud rescued you.” 

She breathes out, relieved. “Is he… safe?”

“Yes, he’s alright. He’s fine.” 

“Good…” Her eyes begin to close again, sleep regaining its hold. “Stay, please?”

The grip on her hand gets tighter. “I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.”

Rewelle smiles, then drifts back to sleep.  

He shakes his head. “Think milord’s sleeping off the amount of heroics from yesterday.” 

Rewelle chuckles, though it aches to do so. “No armour, yet a knight.”

Lamb tucks a loose strand behind her ear. “For which I’ll be eternally grateful.”

She looks at him with her dark eyes, taking in his expression. “...thank you, Lamb.”

“Whatever for?”

The smile, even with lips as pale as hers, is rather like early summer: lovely and bright. “Everything.”

Lamb can’t say anything to that, so he just leans over to kiss her forehead. “Could you keep anything down, do you think?”

“Not yet. Maybe… maybe after her ladyship arrives.” Rewelle sighs. “She knows?”

Lamb smiles helplessly. “I think she and Lord Remont worked it out. She said she had a plan for you.”

“...am I going to lose my job?”

Lamb laughs the first hearty laugh he’s done in weeks. 

~*~

“I left him some things in case he woke up before you arrived, milord, but so far he hasn’t stirred.”

While a much-relieved Oudine has gone in to visit Rewelle, Remont laughs outside in the corridor. He holds a box in one hand. “I expected as much. I’ll take it from here, Lamb. Thank you.”

The footman bows with an amused smile, letting his master be. 

“Izzy, I’m coming in whether you're ready or not,” he says out loud. 

Within the room: "If you're not naked and down to fuck, I'm not accepting," Isillud mumbles softly into his pillow through gritted teeth. What does he need to do to get some proper sleep around here??

The door remains shut. From experience, Remont has to surmise he's being cussed at. 

“I've no idea what you're saying, but it can't be good,” he says with much amusement. “Do I have to eat all of these eclairs myself then?”

Oh, to be torn between sweets and sweet slumber, Isillud's eyes snap open but only to consider whether Remont meant literally or figuratively. "Urghhh," he groans, rolling out of bed (still in his previous clothes because he's lazy like that) and shuffling to the door, swinging it open.

To Remont, Isillud is, in a word, amusing: the messy hair, tired circles under his eyes, clouded green irises - no one would believe this was the absurdly beautiful Lord de Losstarot who visited the Viscountess just three days past even.

He takes about five seconds to absorb the details of this shambling husk of a noble, then grins.

“Dear cousin, if you're going to insist on being a hero, then you'll have to bear the consequences.” Remont holds up the box. “Half a dozen of ‘Lord Isillud's favourites’, with Cook's compliments, since ‘his lordship actually asked for it a while ago’.”

He ruffles Isillud's bedhead affectionately. “Have a few of those, then get dressed if you please. Rewelle and Dine would like to see you.”

"I didn't ask for it to turn out that way," Isillud mutters, scratching his hair and his crotch with the coordination of a seasoned pro before taking the box. "...give me half a bell."

After scarfing down three, he finally feels human enough to wash his face, wipe the grime and dirt from his body and change into the clean clothes laid out on a chair, though the gloves stay on. He claps his hands to dispel the dust as best he can, pockets the ear clasp, then heads out to meet everyone, prim and proper as he can look in the given circumstances.

In the corridor, Remont smiles approvingly at Isillud’s improvements. “This way, my lord.” He leads the way to Rewelle’s room, and opens the door.  

Inside, on the same kind of bed Isillud wishes he was still in, Rewelle lies under some blankets, covering her up to her shoulders. Her complexion has barely any colour in it, and the morning light shows scratches and bruises across one side of her face. But her eyes are open and clear, looking at Oudine who sits closely by her bedside.

When those same eyes catch sight of Isillud, Rewelle gives him the widest, warmest smile she can manage. She would have done the same even if he had been covered in slime and mould. 

“Lord Isillud,” she says hoarsely, but in a welcoming tone. 

Oudine glances up at him and though she doesn't really smile, she wordlessly vacates her chair, gesturing towards it. 

Thinking it a courtesy that should last no more than a few minutes (Rewelle needs her rest after all), Isillud stands at the foot of the bed, politely declining Oudine with a shake of his head and a raised palm. 

"How are you holding up?"

Oudine steps aside as her brother uses one hand to gently push him forward. “You won’t hear her from there,” says Remont.

Isillud is duly moved closer to where Rewelle’s head rests on the pillow. She can’t help a tiny laugh at the way the nobleman seems so hesitant, quite unlike any highborn she’s seen before. “Alright enough, milord.” Her eyes shine up at him despite the lack of strength in her voice. “More than I would be without your help. Thank you for saving my life.”

He is about to speak, but stops. What does he say?

You're welcome.

It was nothing.

'Tis your courage that saved you.

Nothing works. She must not know it didn't go to plan. Oudine will have our heads if she knows how much danger Rewelle was in. But they already know she was out where she shouldn't be, and he brought her back; the circumstances are too suspect; too timely.

Between the choice to tell all or to leave questions, he answers the only question that needs answering: He takes out the ruby clasp and gently places it on her blanket. "They will harass you no more, Rewelle. Breathe easy."

Remont sees the ruby glint under the light, and recalls years ago, when he was still regularly haunting all the smoky clubs and lounges highborn Ishgardian sons patronised, how often Ajax's older brothers had complained they couldn't wear other jewels in front of their father. That everything was about those ‘damned Thavnairian rubies’ they couldn't get rid of. Seems like the baby of the family was allowed to bend the rules, thinks Remont with some wry amusement.

His sister is reflecting on a different memory. He said that to me when he visited us the first time, thinks Oudine from where she stands. I wonder who gave him similar reassurances. Why it was needed.

That last question is answered as soon as it is asked. It had been five summers in exile, five summers of shame; five summers of having your family torn apart and scattered to the winds, not knowing if anyone had survived. Not knowing if you could survive without hope of regaining what you'd lost.

Breathing easily, concludes Oudine, would have been a luxury.

From where she lies, Rewelle looks down at the valuable earring. Her eyes widen at the implications. She tries to lift her hand but her body still feels too heavy. So she wiggles her fingers from out of the blankets at least, managing to pinch Isillud's loose sleeve (Cillien's shirt had been a few ilms wider in just about every measurement - a common occurrence when your frame is as rake-thin as Isillud's).

“Then… it's over?” She even glances at her masters, as if to seek confirmation. Remont smiles, Oudine nods. Rewelle looks back up at her rescuer, whose face is all kindness, and tears cannot help but spill over.  

Months of torment ended. Yisa avenged. There is hope again for the normalcy she had once enjoyed before all this. She could walk freely again, on her own, without fear.

Though it hurts to do so, Rewelle breathes in, so she can speak a little louder, with more emphasis. “I can never repay you, milord. Not in this lifetime. But you will be in my prayers every night. Thank you, truly.”

Isillud's sleeve slides a little off his shoulder, gooseflesh showing on his grey complexion. He simply nods. He doesn't deserve her gratitude, not when he's the reason she's in bed. He looks at Remont, silently pleading, ‘Can I go now?’

Without missing a beat, Remont steps forward. “Come, Rewelle. Lord Isillud is a rather shy individual,” he says, winking at her conspiratorially, and moving her hand gingerly back under the blankets. “And Lamb will turn us into porridge if we keep you up any longer. Do us a favour and rest; there’ll be time later.”

Rewelle smiles through the tears. “Yes, milord.”

Remont puts both hands on Isillud’s shoulders, not bothering to put the sleeve back. “Almost done, cousin. Courage now,” he murmurs as he steers Isillud out of the room, without letting him go. 

They wait outside, Isillud confused – more courage? Again? –  while Remont is poker-faced and keeps his hands on Isillud’s shoulders. Then Oudine emerges from the room a minute later, shutting the door behind her. 

She gazes at Isillud, more serious than he has ever seen her. Every time they have met before, whether in public or private, Oudine has always had a welcoming smile and a kind greeting for him and Joshua. This… is new.

“You risked so much more than your lives, do you know?” she says, low-voiced, her grey eyes directed straight at his green ones. “This is Gaussain we face. Gaussain, with direct line to Durendaire. Gaussain, with such wealth and power, Haillenarte had to be extra careful in rejecting their offers - Count Baurendouin himself would have capitulated, if not for Lord Stephanivien.”

Remont squeezes his shoulders; warmth goes through Isillud’s skin. Courage.

“Gaussain holds us Aubemarles in his hands, at least until recently. I was too young and desperate to understand when he offered to help after our father died, but that is Tramault’s way: find the weak, hold them by the neck until they go limp or die.” Her fists are clenched tight, white at the knuckles. “And Mamma decided it was fine to ask you to do this, to endanger yourselves for us, when you and Joshua have worked so hard…!”

In one swift movement, Isillud is yanked from Remont’s hold into a tight hug, Oudine’s fierce whisper beside his ear and her arms around his shoulders.

“Don’t you dare do this again, Isillud de Losstarot. We could have lost all of you…!”

She knocks the wind out of him with her sisterly embrace and the implications of his involvement begin to dawn on his groggy mind.

The rules have changed. They are no longer commoners where what the rich do have nothing to do with them, nor does getting rid of a spoilt brat's thugs simply stop at the thugs. In Ishgard, the chain is long, sometimes obscured by multiple links as it trails up, up the long ladder of command, winding and doubling back on rungs.

They have yanked the chain. Once Tramault de Gaussain cottons on to what he and Joshua are doing, there is no turning back.

But this is what Joshua wants. For noble House Losstarot to be where it was. Where we were. If it means knocking House Gaussain off its pedestal, it is the path we choose to walk.

A hand slowly, carefully creeps up Oudine's back and pats it. Once, then twice. 

We will rise, we will rise. And when we return then the reckoning begins.

"Thank you for your concern, cousin."

[May the Rood ever flourish.]

-

The End (for now).

[cherrypikkins]

@ahsokaisawesome

oh. oh ya.

i mean, more like an evergreen lightly forested mountain area rather than a jungle. but yeah. just a bunch of lovely green shit as far as the eye can see. i'll let the screenshots speak for themselves

falcon's nest below

possibly twinpools

one of the streams flowing into riversmeet

and ishgard surrounded by greenery instead of post-calamital winter

like something out of elder scrolls oblivion honestly

one of my favourite things to do in roulette is to reveal the unhinged lore of dusk vigil

[writeraven]

LOVE IS IN THE AIR — 01

CHAPTERS: [ 01 | 02 | 03 ]

TAGS: [ isorawrites. » Chronogenesis » Tales from the Carnivals ]

LINKS: [ Tumblr » Story, Collection, Project | AO3 » Work, Collection, Series ]

MUSES: Sora Amariyo. NPC: Zhloe Aliapoh (mentioned).

01 — Coerthas Western Highlands.

ET 11:00 PM

“Dashing through the snow On a singing chocobo Under the starlight Grinning with delight—”

“Shut up, Juno.”

No one in their right mind would be out on a night raging with a snowstorm, arguing over petty things at the top of the rocky Twinpools mountains. No one, except a trio of the oddest companions you wouldn’t usually find across Eorzea, all of whom shared similar paleness that could blend in with the whitewashed scenery.

If only they weren’t too busy bickering with each other to enjoy the winter wonderland.

The singer was a wind-up minion in the likeness of the Queen of Shadows, Scathach, with an air of haughtiness that didn’t diminish with its miniature size. The subject of its merry song was a snow-white chocobo that failed to camouflage into the background with its bright red barding, reminiscent of the one given out at the Starlight event in Gridania a few days ago. The leader of the trio, a female Xaela in tuxedo with a monocle eyepiece that didn’t quite suit her, snatched the minion off the air and threw it violently at the icy ground.

“K-Kweh.”

The chocobo shuddered, nudging the Auri girl gently with its beak before moving in closer, ruffling its feathers against her. It clearly didn’t like to be out in the cold, and it wanted to snuggle up to its owner for warmth. The Xaela then turned her attention to the chocobo, ignoring the spluttering wind-up Scathach that finally poked its head out of the snow.

“Come on, you’d never know if you didn’t try! Shiro would make a fine addition to the Chocobo Choir and we’ll have the gils rolling in no time!”

“You only want me to ditch Shiro for the money. Not happening.”

Sora Amariyo gave Juno the talking-toy Scathach a death glare, then she—they—pulled out a letter from their pocket. They could recall the frantic delivery moogle that dragged itself across the stone ground at Falcon’s Nest to pass the juice-stained envelope to them. They also felt a little sorry for scaring the poor fellow when it called them ma’am because of their physical gender. Sighing, they glanced down at the yellowing paper to read its contents for the third time today.

Dearest Sora, How are you? It has been almost a year since the last time you visited the children at Menphina’s Arms. They really missed you—and I miss you, too. The stories of your grand adventures keep them in high spirits while you bring back collectibles and gils to the orphanage. We’re literally thriving here! I can’t thank you enough for all your help—now I don’t have to break my teeth on the frozen pineapple pudding I’ve been trying to save for weeks, and I can share them with the other kids too! Can’t wait to see you soon! With lots of love, Zhloe P.S. Khloe misses you so much that she can’t stop talking about you over dinner every evening!

Sora shook their head, but not without breaking a small smile at the thought of the upbeat (albeit scatterbrained) Miqo’te trying her best for the orphans of Idyllshire to repay the kindness she had received as a child. They didn’t want to admit that they empathized with her cause; they had a similar past, though with more complications they didn’t like to babble to strangers. Unlike Zhloe Aliapoh, their late foster mother, I’suca Amariyo, wasn’t exactly a caring person; they still wondered from time to time what her true agenda was when she saved them as an infant fifteen summers ago.

Tucking the letter into their pocket, they glanced up at the night sky. A hint of disappointment flashed across their face; they wouldn't catch the aurora lights tonight with the snowstorm roaring around them. They shrugged, hopping onto Shiro’s back with a determined look.

“Alright buddy, it’s time for work.”

Support me on Ko-fi — https://ko-fi.com/whyraven. Thank you very much for your continuous support☕

[estiniensays]

I am told the Convictors have set up camp in Twinpools. Their leader, Jantellot, may have information of use for us.

[fey-t-ff]

FF14地名：3.Xフィールド

自分用、3.Xエリアの地名日本語版･英語版まとめ。SSへの文字入れなどにご利用ください。ただし記事の丸々転載はご遠慮下さいませ。間違いなどあればtwitterの方に指摘もらえれば直しておきます。 *付は通常地図に載っておらず、探検手帳･釣り手帳から引っ張った地名。2023.6.2更新。 　

★クルザス Coerthas 　 皇都イシュガルド The Holy See of Ishgard 　 ●イシュガルド：下層 Foundation 聖徒門 The Arc of the Worthy エーテライト･プラザ Ishgard Aetheryte Plaza 忘れられた騎士亭 The Forgotten Knight 旅籠｢九つの雲｣ Cloud Nine 雲霧街 The Brume 聖バルロアイアン広場 Saint Valeroyant's Forum 神殿騎士団本部 Congregation of Our Knights Most Heavenly *作戦立案室 Strategy Room ライトフェザー闘技場 The Lightfeather Proving Grounds ハルオーネの慈悲 The Fury's Mercy 清貧の凱旋門 The Arc of the Humble 聖レネット広場 Saint Reinette's Forum スカイスチール機工房 Skysteel Manufactory 聖大厩舎 The Holy Stables チョコボ留 Chocobokeep ドラゴンズエアリー The Aery 　 　 ●イシュガルド：上層 The Pillars イシュガルド･ランディング Airship Landing 聖ガンリオル占星院 Athenaeum Astrologicum ゼーメル伯爵邸 Dzemael Manor 尊者の凱旋門 The Arc of Venerable 神聖裁判所 The Supreme Sacred Tribunal of Halonic Inquisitory Doctrine ラストヴィジル The Last Vigil フォルタン伯爵邸 Fortemps Manor アインハルト伯爵邸 Haillenarte Manor 建国十二騎士像 The Architects グランド･��プロン The Hoplon イシュガルド教皇庁 The Vault イシュガルド教皇庁 The Vault 聖レマノー大聖堂 Saint Reymanaud's Cathedral 聖アンダリム神学院 Saint Endalim's Scholasticate デュランデル伯爵邸 Durendaire Manor 宝杖通り The Jeweled Crozier 　 　 ●蒼天街 The Firmament 名も無き者たちの広場 The Mendicant’s Court 十字鍬通り The Mattock 聖ロエル広場 Saint Roelle’s Dais ニューネスト居住区 The New Nest 　ロランベリー･フィールド Rolanberry Field フェザーフォール商業区 Featherfall スカイスチール機工房分館 Skysteel Workshop アバカス通り The Abacus ホアフロスト官舎 Hoarfrost Hall クウィル通り Quill's Trace リズンソング文化区 The Risensong Quarter 詩伯門 Bright Ballad's Passage ルーシュマンド記念病院 Ser Vaindreau's Grace スノーソーク浴場 Snowsoak Springs 　 　 ●エンピレアム Empyreum エンピレアム Empyreum 　義勇門 Kind Traveler's Gate 　ハイモーン広場 Highmorn's Horizon 　エンピレアム中央 Central Empyreum 　エンピレアム東 Empyreum East 　新飛竜泊 Risensong Rookery 　エンピレアム南東 Empyreum Southeast 　ダングラン記念公園 Dangoulin's Devotion 　エンピレアム南西 Empyreum Southwest 　ハウジング関連担当官 Resident Caretaker 　イングルサイド Ingleside 　斧槍通り The Halberd's Head 　エンピレアム北西 Empyreum Northwest 　聖竜門 Great Wyrm's Gate 　エンピレアム北東 Empyreum Northeast 　スノースティープ浴場 Snowsteep Springs 　 [拡張街]エンピレアム Empyreum Subdivision 　[拡張街]義勇門 Kind Traveler's Gate Subdivision 　[拡張街]ハイモーン広場 Highmorn's Horizon Subdivision 　[拡張街]エンピレアム中央 Central Empyreum Subdivision 　[拡張街]エンピレアム南 Empyreum South Subdivision 　[拡張街]新飛竜泊 Risensong Rookery Subdivision 　[拡張街]エンピレアム南西 Empyreum Southwest Subdivision 　[拡張街]ダングラン記念公園 Dangoulin's Devotion 　[拡張街]エンピレアム北西 Empyreum Northwest Subdivision 　ハウジング関連担当官 Resident Caretaker 　[拡張街]イングルサイド Ingleside Subdivision 　[拡張街]斧槍通り The Halberd's Head Subdivision 　[拡張街]エンピレアム北東 Empyreum Northeast Subdivision 　[拡張街]聖竜門 Great Wyrm's Gate Subdivision 　[拡張街]エンピレアム南東 Empyreum Southeast Subdivision 　[拡張街]スノースティープ浴場 Snowsteep Springs Subdivision 　 　 ●クルザス西部高地 Coerthas Western Highlands リバーズミート Riversmeet 　ファルコンネスト Falcon's Nest 　チョコボ留 Chocobokeep 　ハルドラス像 The Pike 　グレイテール滝 Greytail Falls 　異端者の坑道 The Warrens 　ナインスヴェアー The Ninth Vare 　ブラックアイアン･ブリッジ Black Iron Bridge 　*クルザス不凍池 Unfrozen Pond 　金床の塔 The Anvil 　キャンプ･リバーズミート Camp Riversmeet 　ヘムロック Hemlock 　クルザス川 Coerthas River 　ゴルガニュ牧場 Gorgagne Mills 　ゴルガニュ牧草地 Gorgagne Holding 　オーカム波止場 Oakum Landing 　ノーススター号 The North Star 　槍峡門 Lancegate 　*クリアプール Clearpool 　 レッドリム Red Rim 　スウィフトラン川 Swiftrun River 　イエティの棲処 The Bed of Bones 　ザ･ウォッチャー The Watcher 　聖フィネア連隊の露営地 The Convictory 　チョコボ留 Chocobokeep 　 ツインプールズ Twinpools 　アッシュプール Ashpool 　臥竜島 The Dreaming Dragon 　ベーンプール Banepool 　*ベーンプール南 South Banepool 　*ベーンプール西 West Banepool 　ダスクヴィジル Dusk Vigil 　スレート連峰 Slate Mountains 　ドラゴンスピット Dragonspit 　 　 ★ドラヴァニア Dravania 　 ●イディルシャイア Idyllshire 表紙橋 Frontbridge 裏表紙橋 Backbridge セノタフ大石碑 The Cenotaph ロウェナ総合文化会館 Rowena's Center for Cultural Promotion エーテライト･プラザ Idyllshire Aetheryte Plaza スティックキクス工房 Stickqix's Bangpots グリーングラブ菜園 Greengrub Mudplots 崖っぷち亭 The Hard Place 自由市場 Freewalks Roundspot スネイル広場 The Snail 　 　 ●高地ドラヴァニア The Dravanian Forelands チョコボの森 Chocobo Forest 　テイルフェザー Tailfeather 　チョコボ留 Chocobokeep 　つつやき小道 The Hissing Cobbles 　ウィロームリバー Whilom River 　 ソーム･アル山麓 Sohm Al Foothills 　餌食の台地 The Hundred Throes 　悲嘆の飛泉 The Iron Feast 　メアズオウス遺跡 Mare's Oath 　 スモーキングウェイスト The Smoldering Wastes 　ヴァスの塚 Loth ast Vath 　邪竜の彫像 The Stained One 　 グナースの塚 Loth ast Gnath 　兵站穴 Thriphive 　武神穴 Gynehive 　 アヴァロニア･フォールン Avalonia Fallen 　不浄の集落 Anyx Minor 　ダンナー街道 The Danneroad 　不浄の三塔 Anyx Trine 　遠鳴り岩 Summoning Stone 　 モーン大石窟 Mourn 　アネス･ソー Anyx Old 　エース･ダイ Ehs Daih 　ソーム･アル山麓 Sohm Al Foothills 　*モーン大岩窟西 West Mourn 　光輪の祭壇 Halo 　 　 ●低地ドラヴァニア The Dravanian  Hinterlands シャーレアン選者街 The Collectors' Quarter 　ショートステップ野営地 Bigwest Shortstop 　遠鳴り岩 Summoning Stone 　サリャク河 Thaliak River 　 シャーレアン工匠街 The Makers' Quarter 　オーン原生林 The Orn Wild 　創造の道 The Paths of Creation 　大工房アーキテクトン The Arkhitekton 　ダガー石柱群 The Daggers 　ストーンスカイシー Stone,Sky,Sea 　 シャーレアン学士街 The Answering Quarter 　黙想の道 The Paths of Contemplation 　聖モシャーヌ植物園 Saint Mocianne's Arboretum 　クイックスピル･デルタ Quickspill Delta 　アスロン跡 The Asulon 　 シャーレアン哲人街 The Ruling Quarter 　確信の道 The Path of Conviction 　マトーヤの洞窟 Matoya's Cave 　碩学の道 Path of Knowing 　*サリャク河上流 Upper Thaliak River 　グブラ幻想図書館 The Great Gubal Library 　グブラ山 Mt.Gubal 　知神の水�� The Tipped Ewer 　*サリャク河中州 Middle Thaliak River 　 　 ●ドラヴァニア雲海 The Churning Mists ソーム･アル山頂 Sohm Al Summit 　ソーム･アル山麓(Hard) Sohm Al(Hard) 　モグモグホーム Moghome 　遠鳴り岩 Summoning Stone 　 エイル･トーム Eil Tohm 　 ランドロード遺構 Landlord Colony 　手紙の家 The House of Letters 　モンステリエ Monsterie 　アサー天空廊 Asah 　遠鳴り岩 Summoning Stone 　 フォーアームズ Four Arms 　バール･レス広場 Bahrr Lehs 　白亜の宮殿 Zenith 　遠鳴り岩 Summoning Stone 　ソール･カイ Sohr Khai 　 グリーンスウォード島 Greensward 　聖女シヴァ像 Mother of the Sheave 　ランドロード像 The Lost Landlord 　*ソーム･アル笠雲 Sohm Al Summit 　 オール･ターン Ohl Tahn 　グロン･レイ Gron Rhei 　サウストン･ウォール Sothton Walls 　飛竜泊 The Rookery 　ウェストン･ウォーター Weston Waters 　サルウーム･カシュ Tharl Oom Khash 　イーストン･アイ Easton Eyes 　 　 ★アバラシア Abalathia's Spine 　 ●アバラシア雲海 The Sea of Clouds クラウドトップ Cloudtop 　キャンプ･クラウドトップ Camp Cloudtop 　チョコボ留 Chocobokeep 　プロテクトゥール号 The Protector 　ローズハウス The Rosehouse 　 ラストステップ Last Step 　オク･グンド Ok' Gundu 　プロヴェナンス島 Provenance 　 ウィセントヘッド Wisent Herd 　 ヴール･シアンシラン Voor Sian Siran 　霧散の滝 Disappearing Falls 　雲溜まり Te Eddies 　渡り鳥の営巣地 The Nidifice 　 ブンド･オク･ベンド Vundu Ok' Bendu 　雄弁なるベンドの屋敷 Hearth of the Mighty Bendu 　 オク･ブンド･ヴァナ Ok' Vundu Vana 　白鯨の冠 The Whale's Crown

オク･ブンド･モック Ok' Vundu Mok 　舞い降りた羽根の屋敷 Hall of the Fallen Plume 　クロムレック The Cromlech 　 ブルーウィンドウ The Blue Window 　オク･ズンド Ok' Zundu 　遠鳴り岩 Summoning Stone 　ナッキ島 Ok' Gundu Nakki 　モローモート Morrowmotes 　コールドウィンド島 Coldwind 　パロック繋留基地 The Parrock 　モック･ウーグル島 Mok Oogl Island 　 ガントレット諸島 The Gauntlet 　魔航船ヴォイドアーク Void Ark 　シャッタードバック The Shatttered Back 　ネバーリープ Neverreap 　ヘネガの坩堝 Hengr's Crucible 　 　 ●アジス･ラー Azys Lla アルファ管区 Alpha Quadrant 　ポート･ヘリックス Helix 　クリスタ��増殖炉 Centrifugal Crystal Engine 　アルファ交信塔 Alpha Comm Beacon 　総合冷却局 Cooling Station 　第II転送リング Matter Conduit II-III 　エーテル供給アレイ Aetheroconductor Array 　超星間交信塔 Hyperstellar Downconverter 　隔離実験島 Quarantine Block 　 ベータ管区 Beta Quadrant 　第III転送リング Matter Conduit III-II 　キメラ生成ラボ Recombination  Labs 　突然変異誘発房 Mutagenesis 　*廃液溜まり Aetherochemical Spill 　生体培養局 Biomass Incubation Complex 　生体培養局 Biomass Incubation Complex 　第IV転送リング Matter Conduit IV-V 　ハビスフィア管理局 Habisphere Control 　ハビスフィア The Habisphere 　 ガンマ管区 Gamma Quadrant 　第V転送リング Matter Conduit V-IV 　飛空戦艦揚陸地点 Dreadnaught Landing 　飛空戦艦グラディオン The Gration 　カストルム･ソルス Castrum Solus 　残骸島 Last Remmant 　古代のカテドラル The Cathedral 　第VI転送リング Matter Conduit VI-VII 　機動補給艦 Mobile Supply Cache 　フラクタル･コンティニアム The Fractal Continuum 　 デルタ管区 Delta Quadrant 　第VII転送リング Matter Conduit VII-VI 　エシュ･トーム Esh Thom 　デルタ送水局 The Aqueduct 　パプスの大樹 The Pappus Tree 　対偶の磔刑台 Antithesis 　 アジス･ラー旗艦島 The Flagship 　三闘神の像 The Warring Triad 　魔科学研究所 Aetherochemical Research Facility 　 　 ●雲海採集 ディアデム諸島 The Diadem 天の王冠 Crown Jewel 　 北西空域 Northwestern Pavilion 　バウンティ号の漂着地 The Bounty 　*ディアデム諸島の北西池 The Northern Diadem Leke 　 北東空域 Northeastern Pavilion 　*風吹き溜まる雲海 The Windbreaking Cloudtop 　*風吹き上がる雲海 The Windswept Cloudtop 　*風吹き抜ける雲海 The Blustery Cloudtop 　 南西空域 Southwestern Pavilion 　*風渦巻く雲海 The Swirling Cloudtop 　*ディアデム諸島の南西池 The Southern Diadem Lake 　*ディアデム諸島の洞穴 The Diadem Grotto 　 南東空域 Southeastern Pavilion 　*風穏やかな雲海 The Calm Cloudtop

[xiv-wolfram]

Purple Flame, Purple Flame - Comic Script

Heavensward - lvl 51

Ysayle joins the team. Echo shennanigans.

Wolfram Saga Comics (Chronological)

This is the script for a future comic. Posting for those who don’t want to wait to get the story. Numbers indicate frame number.

Wolfram, Alphinaud, Estinien, and Ysayle standing talking around Twinpools in the Coerthas Western Highlands. Narrator - "Wolfram, Alphinaud, and Estinien have tracked down and confronted Ysayle. She has agreed to work with them towards peace by taking them to Hraesvelgr. Wolf has trusted Ysayle from the moment he met her and doesn't understand why. Upon learning that she too has the Echo he's worried she may have a vision of his past, a common anxiety around others that possess Hydaelyn's blessing."

Ysayle and Wolfram collapse (having echo visions). Alphinaud surprised - "Both of them?!"

Estinien annoyed - "What is this nonsense?"

Alphinaud confused - "From time to time the Echo shows Wolfram visions of another's past… Ysayle possesses the same gift… but this is most unexpected."

Estinien rolls his eyes - "So, more distractions." Alphi - facepalms and sighs

Wolf and Ysayle regain conciousness, looking at each other in surprise. Alphi looking down at them surprised - "Welcome back. Strange, you both had a vision at the same time. What did you see?"

Wolf worried, looks at Ysayle begging. - "Please…please don't." Ysayle smiles at him with pity.  - "I'm so sorry… about your family."

Wolf, shocked. Thought - 'She saw that… and her reaction is pity?... Not horror or outrage?!'

As Wolf and Ysayle stand Alphinaud turns to Estinien - "Oh, yes Wolf lost his family back in Gyr Abania. I think it was the Garleans. He doesn't like to talk about it." 

A) Wolf grimaces at Alphi - "Indeed, and if that trend could continue I would appreciate it." Aphi nods. B) Ysayle raises her eyebrow, thought - "So he blames the Garleans… that is understandable. I don't believe he would have done it otherwise.'

Alphinaud to Wolf - "And what did you see?" Thought - 'I'm not sure what to make of her yet. New information would be welcomed.'

Wolf smiles at Alphi - "Nothing she hadn't already told me." Thought - 'If she's willing to keep my secrets then I'll gladly keep hers… it wasn't relevant anyway.'

Wolfram Saga Comics (Chronological)

[auughghgfghghgh]

Red.

Red everywhere.

Is he bleeding? He is.

He is.

But it isn’t blood, isn’t it? 

It isn’t his blood, but it is a life force - whose?

What happened to him?

Last he remembers, he was atop Mor Dhona’s walls and then he was… falling.

Why didn’t he die?

Who decided to extend this great mercy (spitting these words out like the poison that burns the tongue) upon him? To lengthen this cursed existence and not let him at least choose his end? Round and round and round the thoughts go and he lets them.

Barely putting one foot in front of another, he is crawling his way away from the scene of suicide, failed suicide; and he is walking ,and he is running and flying and dying.

He is dying.

He isn’t himself anymore and he feels it - looking around for anything, anyone, to ground him; to show him he did exist, once upon a time, that he still does exist and that he’s not simply a … failure, in life and death. And then, a flash of white cuts through the red haze; it parts like it’s making a path for him, but he dares not walk it. He recognizes the face in the halo of white - one and only, the One. And the memories come flooding back, and he is himself once again. Oh, the joy! May heavens sing in the glory of this day, when he found his own angel, his anchor, his holy one - 

And he ran away, afraid he’ll tarnish the pure white that blinded him so, that showed him the way.

The first time Theofort saw him, he could not see the blinding white; but he felt as if there was something off about the man - something that should be worshipped and feared at the same time. He dared not come closer, but he committed the face to the memory.

Twinpools were not exciting; it was mostly just battles against dragon…lings and such  creatures, day in and day out. The Convictors were proud of their work, calling it holy, but he knew it was just slaughter. Yet, he stayed with them since he didn’t know where to go, never letting them know of the dragon blood coursing his veins - never letting them know he got there in the first place because his parents were heretics, turned to wyrms, killed by his own hand.

And so, with his little body full to the brim of secrets, he saw someone so pure and kind; a healer who helped in return for very little - and he was infatuated at the first glance.

He bit into his angel’s lip, tearing the flesh and tasting blood.

The sweetest nectar of gods could not come close to this.

And he was satisfied like never before - no one will ever remember his beloved as he is; only as he was. His current self was Theo’s and no one else’s. No one’s, but his… He was his and he was his and he was his and they were one in soul but not the body, not yet - not yet. 

One day, one day, one day… 

It will come. 

Their union will come upon the world as the day of reckoning.. 

Earth and sky will tremble before the might of their love, and there will be rivers of blood - but no drop will ever taste sweeter than this one, mere moments ago. He will never ever again taste the heaven… 

And he finds his lips on the wound again, sucking and gulping and making sure it won’t heal, it will stay, the scar will stay; the moment of pure bliss will be immortalised on his face

[566013482]

WiHM9 - TWINPOOL - The Twisted Sisters

ft. Tristan Risk

[candlelethe]

Coerthas Western Highlands > Twinpools

[myrmelodiea]

HW Sightseeing Log #46 - The Slate Mountains

"From high atop the western highlands of Coerthas, I looked out upon the realm in all her twisted beauty. There I saw a sight that will be sung of for as long as songs are sung."

These mountains on the outskirts of Ishgard were valued as a mining site for slate of exceptional quality. Three years past, the knights of House Dzemael attempted to carve an Ishgardian stronghold into the cliffs, enraging the dragon Cuelebre and his followers. Remnants of the gruesome battle that followed still lie scattered about the crags, unable to decay in the chilled altitude.

[twistedtwinsproductions]

September is the first month of Halloween. So, important decisions must be made. What to wear this year?? What do you think? What are YOU gonna be?? Here’s last year’s TWINPOOL 🥰🥰 #twinning #Twinpool #Deadpool #Halloween https://www.instagram.com/p/CiaraiQPdexmoHUHwRQntWOsQ_bH0VP4iEfGOU0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[mirelle-bullion]

LFRP: Mirelle Bullion

🌻 THE BASICS 🌻

Name: Mirelle Bullion

Nicknames: Miri

Age: 37

Birthday: 9th Sun of the 6th Astral Moon

Race: Ishgardian Elezen

Gender: Female (she/her)

Alignment: Neutral Good

Sexuality: Lesbian

Server: Mateus (Crystal Datacenter)

🌻 PHYSICAL APPEARANCE 🌻

Hair: Thick and straight black hair with frosty grey tips, falling just below her shoulders. She tends to tie her bangs behind her head, or pull her hair up into utilitarian buns.

Eyes: Bright blue

Height: 75″

Build: Tall and wiry, a slender frame covered in corded muscle.

Distinguishing Features: There seems to be a permanent blush to her cheeks, which does little to disguise the scar streaking across her left cheekbone.

Manner of Dress: Her uniforms emphasize tasteful utility over flourish, and freedom of movement over armored plating. She keeps them tidy and well-maintained. Casually, she wears comfortable loose-fitting clothing with a fair amount of wear and tear, suitable for working in a garden.

Common Accessories: She carries a pipe and a pouch of tobacco with her at all times.

🌻 PERSONAL 🌻

Professions: Former Skysteel weapons tester (Machinist/Gunbreaker), community/guerilla gardener (Botanist), witch stone enthusiast (Sage), historical combat hobbyist (Reaper)

Skills: handgonne and rifle care and construction, gardening, basic first aid and herbal medicine, vanishing from awkward social situations

Interests: hiking and exploration, tinkering, puzzles, painting

Residence: The Black Shroud

Birthplace: A small cotton farm in Coerthas Western Highlands, Twinpools region

Religious Affiliation: Mirelle was raised to revere Nophica and Halone in equal measure, though she has become somewhat disenchanted with Halone in recent years.

🌻 RELATIONSHIPS ––– 🌻

Romantic: Capricious Wolf (dating)

Children: none

Parents: Albette Sufain (mother), Boffant Bullion (father)

Siblings: Urbain Bullion (younger brother), Miralda Bullion (younger sister)

🌻 TRAITS ––– 🌻

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

🌻 ADDITIONAL INFORMATION 🌻

Smoking Habit: Smokes a pipe occasionally for relaxation.

Drugs: Lighter fare -- weed and mushroom teas for relaxation.

Alcohol: Dark beer, thick enough to be considered breakfast

🌻 RP HOOKS 🌻

Community gardener - Mirelle is heavily involved in the botanist’s guild in Gridania, and patched into efforts to the establishment and upkeep of subsistence gardens and guerilla food forests throughout the Shroud. If you’re someone with an interest in providing for the wellbeing of the Shroud’s denizens, or a wood wailer wondering who keeps replacing the ornamentals with mulberry bushes and chestnut trees, you might have a lot to discuss.

Historic combat enthusiast - After being taught the traditional technique of scythe combat by her mother, Mirelle developed a keen interest in the preservation of historic or obscure combat arts. If you practice an unusual or forgotten art, or if you’re a fellow enthusiast, she’d love to pick your brain.

Former military - Mirelle has served time in the Ishgardian infantry, where she primarily trained as a firearms specialist, with a short stint as a weapons tester at Skysteel Manufactory. If you served in the military or the manufactory, perhaps she’s heard of you -- or vice versa.

Tinkerer - From handgonnes to witch stones, Mirelle is quite taken in by devices of magical or mechanical intricacy, and enjoys the effort of deconstructing and puzzling them out. If you possess an unusual device or artifact, she would very much like to get her hands on it -- only for a moment, of course.

🌻 OOC INFORMATION 🌻

MIRELLE IS LOOKING FOR

Gardens in need of a little tender love care within the Shroud, and passionate gardeners to connect with.

Knowledge and instruction of forgotten combat techniques, or fellow enthusiasts.

Little mysteries to dig into that will give her a more complete understanding of the Shroud.

I’M LOOKING FOR

One-shots or short-term storylines.

Long-term narratives with an emphasis on character development.

Character relationships across the gamut -- friends, enemies, rivals, family, mentors, partners in crime, etc.

🌻 CONTACT INFORMATION 🌻

Generally open to lore-bending, when it's done with the purpose of adding depth and texture to the setting without breaking it.

Not looking for ERP.

In-Game: Mirelle Bullion

Asks & Info: @mirelle-bullion

Carrd: coming soon

[snowywriting]

Prompt #8: Tepid

FFXIV writing prompt from   FFxivWrite2022! If you want to write for this too, here’s the link: https://forms.gle/SxFpwkKPLqnUwAYD9

-------------------------------

“Lukewarm,” Altani grumbled as she slipped into the bathtub in her apartment. Even indoors, the water here in Ishgard didn’t stay warm. She glanced outside at the snow falling. It was just as beautiful as the day she arrived. “I should be more thankful,” she murmured as she slid deeper into the water. It wasn’t long ago that foreigners weren’t allowed to visit Ishgard. That changed once they had finally fixed the Firmament. Workers had the first pick of the new wards. Her carpentry had landed her a home among these stony spires, and she was thankful.

“But I’d be more thankful if I wasn’t fucking freezing in my own home, may Halone slay all the-” and the curses continued as the au ra woman rose out of the water, quickly grabbing a towel. “And then may Nhaama pick up all the pieces and bite the ever-living” - she stopped mid-expletive. Was that a knock? “Well, shit,” she muttered, squeezing the water out of her braids. It was too late for visitors, wasn’t it? She pulled on a thick robe and dashed across the icy stone floor for her slippers. 

The clang against her door could likely be heard all the way down the hall. Two heavy knocks, made with an armored hand. Altani frowned and swung open the door fiercely. This did not surprise the tall dragoon who was waiting for her.  

Estinien looked down at Altani. “Are you in your pajamas, woman? Are you mad? How do you expect to be ready in that?” 

The look he received would have rendered a more genteel man to ash. “Am I mad? What the actual hell are you talking about? It is barely evening and if I wanted to swan about in -” she stopped herself. If left to their own devices, they would bicker for hours. “Estinien. What are you doing here?”

“I came by to warn you,” he said. “Tomorrow’s the anniversary of the Peace. The dinner,” he said smugly, seeing that she’d completely forgotten.

Altani narrowed her eyes at him in confusion. Dinner? Why did that sound so familiar? Her eyes widened. Oh no. The dinner in which all Ishgardian leadership were gathering to celebrate the peace she’d fostered. The dinner in which she would have to don an uncomfortable dress and be on her best manners. The dinner she’d promptly forgotten about, because she had figured she’d leave on her next adventure before she’d have to bother with it.

“Oh fuck,” she drawled, whipping around to run to her bedroom, furiously looking for clothing. Estinien walked in and sat down in an armchair, amused. “He’ll be disappointed that I reminded you,” he said, speaking of Aymeric.

A sigh could be heard from the room over, followed by muttered curses as Altani tripped putting on her boots.

The warrior of light loved Ishgard, but her reluctance to attend parties, dinners, and soirees was legendary. If the Lord Commander wanted the Savior of Ishgard or the Azure Dragoon to attend society functions, he had to trick them. Estinien sat back in the chair. Despite butting heads often, he liked the woman. They’d got on the wrong foot at first. Her dusk-purple skin and soot-black scales reminded him of a dragon. Her personality too, he mused. They had settled into a sort of friendship after the war.

He would have let Aymeric catch her for this dinner, but he owed her. He supposed there was worse company to have. At least he wouldn’t be bored as they both dodged Aymeric’s link-pearl calls tomorrow

She emerged from the room in her usual black armor, a full pack, and her axe on her back. “I’m thinking that we go hide at the Twinpools hot spring. I’m sick of tepid water.”

Estinien chuckled and opened the door. “After you.”

[thatsadorbsyo]

Brennan (Thunderous, 15)

The storm creeped in low and steady over Banepool, arriving too gradually and too perniciously for me to notice the levin crispness in the air, not until I was out of time to head south. Thundersnows are almost unheard of, but the Calamity has twisted this part of Hydaelyn beyond the measure of reason or understanding. It fucks with me. I can work with snow. Snow retains color, grit, footprints, all things that can be used to track those who’ve passed through and to chart the recent activity of an area. But ice just sucks. Ice doesn’t give a damn about you and has no memory beyond what’s literally encased within it, and the clouds rolling in threatened to sleet another few ilms of its favorite bastard across the landscape, ruining my progress. And there I was, with grey-purple goo matted into my pelts, desperately shuffling my way across the ice toward the nearest shelter.

I’d spent the day carving open gelatins, looking for the earthly remains of a Coerthan widow’s unfortunate husband. She would have me bring his wedding band back, at the very least, but she’d take whatever I could extract whole, so long as it wasn’t too grotesque. Closure and sentimentality are far preferable ways of coping with the death of a loved one, especially over having to look their half-dissolved corpse in the eye (singular). Even if I found him, I didn’t have a bag large enough to bring his whole body home, but there were a lot of jellies in Twinpools and only one hunter seeking this peculiar mark. My hopes for success weren’t high, but I didn’t want to turn around until I’d cleared out every gelatin I could see. That was the problem. Another handful of them always waited for me just beyond the next rise, and then the next one, and the next. The job was never over, not until the weather forced my hand.

I had to wait it out for bells on end, all through one of the shittiest nights of my living memory. A pitiful little fire in a shallow cave -- with all of my furs and pelts piled on top of me until all that poked out was a shock of red hair and a nose nearly as ruddy -- wasn’t enough to keep me from shivering with a dread both existential and visceral every time the thunder shook the roof of the world. It was the same fear I remember from childhood, whenever I’d hear the sonic crack of inconceivably large wings from somewhere above the canopy, knowing but not seeing the shape of my demise. In the relative warmth of the cave, the jelly on my clothes had taken on an almost fishy stench, one that churned my stomach even as I buried myself deeper into my pelts. This was going to be a long fucking night.

[dracoarties]

Happy birthday to the lovely @deadpool-art / Zet. Hope you have a nice day! :D