#well connected popoto

[sunny-jade]

Lili's Connections

I have decided my popoto will be well connected. Pipin's wife/girlfriend, therefore can get close to the Mandervilles. Julyan is a friend and mentor, as well as Godbert (CUL and GSM).

Lili has come across Nanamo on her trips out of the palace, so she likes to help her do that, keeping her safe while she's out. Cause it's fun to sneak Nanamo out under the noses of Papashan and whoever else.

Her cousin is Shamani Lohmani, she works with him to identify more potent plants (Cause his sense of smell and she's a botanist) for food and her alchemy.

And she's friends with Momodi, Miounne and Merlwyb because I can and I like them.

She's also connected to the tribes and is very well known and liked in Little Ala Mhigo because she took the time to earn their trust.

I'm sure there's more, but this is what's off the top of my head.

[yzeltia]

Closer to You

Chapter 8 Characters: Natsu Obinata, Fuyu'li cen Zwhan, Claudien, Y'zel Tia, Varshahn, Jannie Eyradoux Rating: T for Teen Notes: Unsure if this needed a tag, but there is a scene where Natsu will Echo off Claudien and his perception of Y'zel in the wake of being intimate together. Thank you @driftward for the mechanics pass and dealing with my walnuttery

The trip to Old Sharlayan was mostly silent. Jannie able to use aetheryte, had left them to travel on their own, the Elezen trusting Natsu to keep Fuyu'li under a watchful eye. This hadn't gone entirely without incident. They argued about Fuyu'li continuing to wear his Garlean garb until Natsu finally convinced him to at least store his coat. Otherwise, any attempt at conversation quickly was put to rest, Natsu still not ready to forgive her friend. 

Docked in the harbor, the two exited the boat, Fuyu'li shivering as snow flurried about them. “I would very much liked to have had my coat for this weather,” he chattered before letting out a gasp as he looked up to the statue of Thaliak in awe.

“We will find you a coat. Miss Tataru has a boutique here,” Natsu said, looking around for Jannie as they moved onto the busy plaza.

Not having much luck finding Jannie, the two found themselves at the Last Stand, tiding themselves over with a much needed warm meal as they waited. As they ate, Fuyu'li raved over their Garlean cuisine, not seeming to notice Natsu was still uninterested in engaging with him, the girl picking at a mound of mashed popotos until decidedly interrupting him with her thoughts. “What did you mean I have no one precious to me?”

Fuyu'li blinked, setting down his fork as he tilted his head, “If you meant when we were having our disagreement I-”

“There was no disagreement. You were just wrong,” Natsu interrupted sharply.

“Right, ah…Well, I…mostly said it in the heat of the moment.”

“Well, it didn't come from nowhere,” Natsu sulked.

Fuyu’li hung his head. “Well, I mostly said it to hurt you. To make you stop trying to get in my way,” he admitted before shaking his head, “It is just that you said that you’ve got no one to miss you. Our journey here together was for you to find a connection to your past…I had the impression that I was your first and only friend.”

Natsu recoiled a little, not meeting Fuyu’li’s searching gaze. She shivered a little before looking out toward the sea, “I think, at the time, you were. Maybe still are. I’ve met so many nice people and yet I was so preoccupied with finding my brother I haven’t really made the time to connect. Especially after you just disappeared…”

“I shouldn’t have done that. I should have went to find you. If I hadn’t been fooled you wouldn’t have been left alone…”

“It worked out,” Natsu said before cutting into her potatoes with her knife and fork only to realize the fruitlessness of the action.

Fuyu’li snickered a bit, followed by Natsu joining in, starting to laugh. The jovial moment was brief, but seemed to lighten the tension enough for the latter to start opening up, telling her friend about finding a lead on her brother, and that lead bringing her to Gage Acquisitions. She told of him of Leonnioux’s kindness and what had sent her on the journey that brought them back together.

“The imposter…killed someone,” Fuyu’li asked in a small voice.

“Yes, they did,” Natsu answered.

“Oh Natsu. I’m so sorry. I didn’t…I’m such a fool,” he said in a near whisper.

“It’s not like you killed him,” Natsu said before, “Besides, now that we’re together I can make sure you stay out of trouble this time. After I find Violet and the others, we can go back to Thavnair and see your master and his sister.”

Fuyu’li brightened up, “Really!?”

“Yes, assuming at the end of this you don’t find yourself behind bars or worse.”

The Miqo’te gulped, then hung his head while Natsu straightened up and started to eat. As she started to eat properly, she caught the gaze of a man staring at her from afar, a tall Hyur with golden hair and fiery-orange eyes. Cautiously she returned to her meal, avoiding looking back toward him until Fuyu’li offered a “Hello” as the stranger arrived at the edge of their table.

“Hello,” the man said, looking down at them both, trying to catch the girl’s attention, “Are you Natsu Obinata by chance?”

Dropping her fork, Natsu looked up then wiped her mouth with a napkin politely. “I”m sorry, have we met,” she asked, weary of the stranger.

“We’ve shared correspondence. I’m Claudien, Y’zel’s partner…er, that sounds too formal, and I think lover might sound too sordid. Boyfriend though seems to not have the gravity of our situation though,” the man said, getting lost in his answer before shaking his head, “Sorry. That’s neither here nor there. I spotted you from afar and your friend here’s blue coloring in his ears and tail were as you’d described in your letters.”

“You wrote about me,” Fuyu’li asked.

“Yes, I briefly wrote about you worried you’d gotten yourself lost before I settled on being angry about being abandoned,” Natsu answered before looking at Claudien as he joined them at their table, “It’s good to find a friendly face here. We’ve been waiting on our friend, but she hasn’t come.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. If you need a place to stay I have an apartment you’re welcome to. Y’zel hasn’t come around lately though, if you’re hoping to run into him. I’ve left him notes on the matter but he hasn’t left me anything more than well wishes. To be honest, the only reason I know he’s been home are the little notes. I imagine his work has been keeping him busy and of course he has to check in on Leonnioux and then Ioh does his surprise outings,” Claudien mused before frowning as Natsu suddenly put her hand over her mouth and recoiled, “Did I say something wrong?”

“It’s just that…have you not heard?” Natsu asked, “Leon he…he was murdered.”

Claudien froze, staring at Natsu before looking off into space. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I found the body.”

The man pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling a bit before shaking whatever he was feeling off. “Does Y’zel know? No, you would have said if you’d found him. I need to find him. Leon…he was a good friend and…this couldn’t come at a worse time…I need to find Y’zel. I have to be the one to tell him.”

Natsu frowned, watching the other’s eyes start to water a bit as he became rather distracted, looking around the Last Stand in a bit of a panic. Reaching out, she gently rubbed his forearm, “We have reason to believe he already knows. I have the Echo and saw Y’zel find his body.”

Claudien stiffened a bit, putting his hand over Natsu’s as he got control of his breathing, “How long ago was this?”

“Well, it was five days by boat to arrive, and before that two days before we departed, so I suppose just a week.”

“A week…that’s when…,” Claudien trailed before suddenly standing up, “You know my apartment number from our letters, correct? There is a hidden key on the doorframe. You and your friend are welcome there, and I will find you later.”

Natsu shook her head, “Wait. What is it? Can we help? Is it about my brother?”

“I’m not exactly at liberty to discuss it, but I’ll tell you more this evening if my inquiries do not forestall me.”

Natsu shook her head, pulling off her glove to grab the other’s hand. “I need to know about my brother,” she cried out before finding herself slipping into the Echo.

Her heart was racing. If it were not for the papers she’d yet to grade, she’d had long doused the candle for relief from the heat, sweating bare chested at her desk. Laid out on the bench beside her, her love laid wrapped up in her lab coat, the Miqo’te practically swimming in it as his breath labored. Her free hand stroked lightly up his pale thigh, occasionally stealing glances as he played with a strange dark stone, ignoring every attempt at conversation she’d started. Since he’d returned from helping pull his friend from the void, Y’zel had seemed to struggle to hear yet had not admitted to having any hearing loss. With all challenges, she felt she needed to test her hypothesis.

“Today I saw your cousin Y’shtola walking stark naked through the promenade by the Last Stand to serve Ser Vauban a single cup of tea,” she stated, ensuring she spoke plainly with her timbered voice, though did not look at him when she spoke. 

Y’zel didn’t so much as flick an ear in acknowledgement. She turned to face him, letting her hand slide up to pat his stomach to get his attention.

“Mmm. Is something wrrrong,” Y’zel asked, tail flicking to curl around her wrist, flicking his ears in her direction.

“Clearly. Either I’ve put you in a state of absolute euphoria to the point of you losing your senses or you’re suffering acute hearing loss from your reckless aether bleeding and have been using your Echo to compensate for it,” she accused, having noted the other’s ears often flitted toward whoever was speaking to him as of late.

Y’zel looked away, ear folding to stay open toward her, “How did you know?”

“Little things. I have to get your attention by looking directly at you and you’ve been looking more at my lips lately than my eyes. The way your ears move and that when I was whispering into them earlier you didn’t respond beyond moans,” she sighed.

Y’zel pulled at the coat around him then sat up, setting the stone on the desk as he scoot forward, closing the distance between them, “Yes. It’s as you say. I projected my Echo and it seems it came with a price.”

“Zel,” she felt herself coo, rubbing her large hand over the other’s cheek.

“I’d ask that you not mention this to anyone else for now. I’m unsure if this is something I will have to learn to with. Things come in and out, though I’m unsure if it’s just reflexively relying on my power.”

“You need to see a chirurgeon.”

“No. I’m in enough trouble as it is of late. For now, let this stay between us,” Y’zel asked, lowering his ears at he let his blue eyes lift into her gaze. 

She felt his lithe frame press against him, the other giving her a soft kiss. She knew all too well this was his way of getting his way, and she was helpless to resist, putting her arm around his waist to pull him against her strong body.

“If this persists I will make you get help. Perhaps from that Bishop fellow. He seems like the sort to make you think twice about risking your well being after a round with him,” she warned, letting the other leave him to wash up in his sink.

“Where are you off too,” she asked, sighing and getting up from her paperwork to follow the other, turning his chin to face him, “I asked where are you off to?”

“A scholar is inquiring about my work. She wanted me to meet her to discuss it.”

She frowned, watching the other dress as anxiety started to build up within her. She’d reviewed the small publication of his, and though the other had swayed her to believe that their souls were forever linked, he was unsure how well the greater scholarly public might take it. The notion of somehow being incomplete with the shards of their soul scattered amid other realms, it left her ill at ease. She’d never felt like something was missing. Her life was happy and full. “I wish you would have given your draft more time to sit.”

Y’zel scowled and brushed past him, “It’s well documented. You told me to go out and prove my theory and I did. How can you still doubt my findings when you lived the phenomenon itself? Does Erichtonious in you not yearn for the Praxithius in me?”

“Yes, I feel him within me; however, he is not me. I am me. And if we are so star crossed explain Leonnioux? Do you say you love me more because we are cosmically aligned,” she asked before covering her mouth.

Y’zel flicked his tail, eyes narrowing, “You are my primary.”

“But can you say you love me more than him?”

She watched as her lover folded her ears, holding himself for a moment. Her heart raced, an intrusive thought suddenly screaming for him to say yes; but she shook it off as always. Leonnioux was a friend after all and made Y’zel happy.

“Of course I can’t. I love you both…and you’re both…”

“Special in our own way? The gravitation and romance of being a fragment someone else within me who loved a fragment of someone else within you. Leonnioux’s and yours angsty childhood romance. You’ve got your playful rogue too.”

Y’zel remained quiet a moment, biting his lip, “And yet…at one time or another we have all appeared in proximity to one another. They might have not been pat lovers but appeared in other shards alongside me none-the less.”

“And that cannot be a beautiful coincidence? Maybe we are drawn to the people we’ve shared connections with in the past; however, it’s dangerous to call it destiny and imply our lives are incomplete without those missing pieces of a world long forgotten. Anyone that has clung to it has lost themselves and brought others down with them.”

“I’m not clinging to anything but you and my friends.”

She felt herself swallow, the other’s gaze intense. She knew he meant it. “And that scares me as much as it delights me,” she whispered, pulling the other’s wrist up to kiss it, “After Ser Vauban and myself had our respective incidents…I fear you’d set the world afrost should another loved one find themselves in peril. Look how far you went.”

With that, she rubbed Y’zel’s white aether bleached locks between his fingers as she made her point. The Miqo’te purred as she leaned down to kiss his neck. Her body started to heat up again, feeling the need to have him just one more time only to be left wanting as he squirmed free.

“I resent that everyone seems to think I’m on the brink of an apocalyptic meltdown. Speaking of which. I’m thinking you shouldn’t leave your fancy new paperweight out where idle hands can play with it,” Y’zel said, huffing and turning away from her to gather his things.

Sighing, she let him go and returned to the table to pick up the rock and return it to the cabinet he stored it in, setting it on a shelf marked “The Heart of Sabik. She shuddered a bit as she read the name, not wanting to think of what it had wrought him. Wanting to say goodbye, she turned then found Y’zel gone.

“Natsu!? Natsu!?”

She winced as her name was yelled out by Claudien and Fuyu’li. Opening her eyes, she found herself propped up against Claudien’s thigh, he hand squeezing his hand and on the ground. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to…find out more.”

“There would have been plenty of time for that later. You nearly gave me a heart attack,” Claudien breathed out.

Natsu moved, standing on her own before grabbing her glove and slipping it back on. She flushed, having intruded on such a tender moment between her brother and his partner. “I’ll be fine. I’m sorry to keep you. Go check on what you need to and we’ll meet you at your house later.”

Claudien gave a little nod, though seemed to hesitate before taking his leave. Fuyu’li frowned, putting his hand on Natsu’s shoulder, “Are you really okay?”

“I think so…Hey, Fuyu’li…those people you took. They had special gifts like me. Why didn’t you come after me,” she asked, sitting back down to take a rather large drink of water.

The Miqo’te thought for a moment, “I didn’t think to. I wasn’t sure what my master, rather the imposter, wished to do with them. It made sense though as we gathered them. Mikoto could see into the future to help find his sister and the other seemed to be able to open void gates. We’d determined that the dreams they manifested were less dreams and more dipping into places like the void and bringing about things that are connected to a person in some way. Violet then could commune with the dead..I guess I was doing a lot of mental legwork, I didn’t think being able to walk around in someone else’s skin would be pertinent.”

Natsu nodded, “And when studying those people…those with the Echo. Was everything they saw pertinent?”

Fuyu’li nodded, “Yes. It often provided them clarity or an answer. Sometimes people felt that it could misguide them about a situation, but everyone reported to feel that their visions had a purpose and meaning.”

“Then…what is the Heart of-”

“Fuyu’li,” a voice called out with a light Thavnarian accent.

Natsu and her friend’s attention turned toward the voice, finding Jannie wandering up with a tall Auri man in teal garb. She tilted her head, finding the man bearing a striking resemblance to Fuyu’li’s young master. The latter seemed to notice too, seeming to faint back into his chair from shock.

[trans-peridot]

FFxivWrite Day 3: Tempest

So the funny thing with this one is, it was perfect for Tayfun. Where do you think she got her name? But I already wrote that scene and I'm not about to cheat, so here instead is her telling the story to Saffron, her t4t girlfriend, about two years before the events of ARR.

“Where were you, Saffron? When the Calamity hit?”

“I was... I was taking shelter here in Ul’dah. What’s that got to do with anything?”

Tayfun and Saffron were cuddled up to each other in Tayfun’s room in the Quicksand. Saffron had just asked Tayfun how she chose her name, and her response seemed like an utter non sequitur.

“I picked my name the same night I realized that I was a girl. The night I thought I was going to die. The night of the Calamity. In the Black Shroud the approach of Dalamud was manifesting as this horrible tempest sweeping across the Twelveswood.” Tayfun nuzzled as close to her girlfriend as she could. “I was out on my own when it hit. Trees were uprooting and everything was swept up in the typhoon. Myself included. I was tossed about like a sack of popotoes that didn’t even realize it hated being a boy.”

“And so you realized that before dying you should admit a certain something to yourself?”

“I mean... in a certain sense, yes. But thinking back on it now it almost feels like...” Tayfun choked on her words. She’d never admitted this part before, even to herself. “I did die that night. Or the boy who I was died, and I was allowed to take his place. I’m not even sure that’s a metaphor. With the way the realm has been reborn since the Calamity, I wonder if a part of that rebirth settled into me. Of course it couldn’t have returned me from death, but I wonder if it prevented me from dying from wounds that would have killed me otherwise. By all rights I should have died that night, and now every moment since is something extra. Any moment of joy, any deed I accomplish, any connection I make, it’s... I’m a ghost girl.”

“I think you’re alive. I don’t want to imagine a world where I didn’t get to meet you, which I believe means you were supposed to survive all along. That makes sense, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess it does,” Tayfun lied. “Well, anyway, that’s how I chose my name. When the tempest spared my life I named myself Tayfun in its honor. Sort of silly saying it out loud, but I like the name.”

“You realize you’re talking to a girl who named herself after the first flower she saw after running away from home, don’t you?” Saffron laughed and kissed Tayfun’s neck.

“I like your name. My desert crocus.”

And then, realistically, they probably fucked nasty before bed. But we don’t want to see that right now, do we?

[driftward]

Title: Hard Candy Starlight Characters: Zoissette Vauban Rating: Teen Summary: Zoissette ponders what to do for Starlight. Notes: None

Zoissette wandered around the plaza of Old Sharlayan, more than a little lost.

She was only here to pursue the end trails of an investigation. A mysterious benefactor that had given extraordinarily generous gifts to Gage Acquisitions. Too generous for their possible origin to be ignored, in case of malicious intent. Faced with a puzzle, Zoissette had brought her considerable acumen to bear, and with the help of her fellow adventurers, she had been led here.

Where Iyna had reported the the trail went cold. Their supposed benefactor had been uncovered, and had been found to have died shortly before Zoissette had touched shore. Her investigation had taken her far, but it ended here. The timing of the death was suspicious, but she had wasted enough of the company's time and resources already. She wrote her report and sent it back to Dark Autumn, and let Y'zel know he was free for the holiday.

Which left her alone in Old Sharlayan during the Starlight season. She knew that she would be expected at the Gage Acquisitions company party, and Y'zel had extended her an invitation to a family gathering, but neither would require her to return for some days yet, and so she did not.

Instead she was here, at the Last Stand, looking for something, anything appetizing on the menu. But despite such delights as baked lobster and fully loaded popotoes, nothing particularly moved her from her current mood. Picking frugality over excess, she settled on a mutton and watercress sandwich with tomato and a cup of tea, and shortly, took her seat.

What a mess.

No malfeasance had been found, at least. And if there was someone behind the dead woman, they would find leveraging their connection difficult indeed. Gage could enjoy the fruits of the generous gifts.

And Zoissette, free of responsibility, could contemplate her situation at last. She considered possibly fleeing the island, but most of her friends had already made their Starlight plans and were now otherwise occupied with holiday cheer. Her brother would be spending a lovely time with Klynt, she was certain. Many of the others would also be off with their various partners, or spending time with their families, or even volunteering in the name of the season and handing out gifts to children.

For herself, well, the Baldesion annex was right there. She could see it from where she was, if she looked. And it was not as if she had not worked closely with the Scions over the years in various capacities. She had even helped watch over them when they were in the First, bringing her not-insignificant expertise to bear. She would be welcome. She could just drop by. See if anyone was around or if anything needed doing, make herself useful and available.

And she had been asked after. Specifically.

And yet, something was holding her back.

Was it the looming question of how to respond to Mathye? He had made his feelings clear enough, and she believed him. She was not sure why he was interested in her, of all people, especially considering the other company that they kept, as well as literally any other option, but, still, he was interested.

There was a tangled knot somewhere in here, and she could not unravel it. Was it dedication to duty? Maybe she did not want the trouble of personal entanglements. Was it long times away? Well, everyone involved already dealt with that and understood that the job would come first, as always. Which looped back to the idea of it interfering with her duty, which it would not. Indeed, if she went to help with the research, that would arguably be furthering her duty to the realm.

How did she get back to that.

She took a deep breath and shook her head. This was the way it always went when she tried to think about these things. Loops and strange corners and leaps of illogic and none of it made sense.

Her sandwich was gone now, and she had barely tasted it, so caught up in her own thoughts. Well, at least she had not spent the coin on something more expensive.

She took a sip of her tea, and found it had gone cold. She looked at it, and set it back down as the waiter came by with the bill, and a small bag, small enough to fit in her hand. A little token of the Last Stand's appreciation, according to the note on it.

She opened the bag and reached inside of it, and pulled out a small piece of hard candy.

She found herself looking at it for a long moment.

-*-

"There's hardly any meat for the Starlight feast," the sergeant-at-arms complained as he looked through various boxes.

"We've got a steinbock," offered the head chef, looking at the knight-captain. "Enough for the officer's mess. We might be able to stretch it to cover the senior enlisted's mess, too."

Zoissette looked in yet another box. She knew what was down here. Over a year of shepherding the logistics for the region, carefully stewarding resources, and immaculate record keeping meant she knew what she expected to find, almost down to the last nail. But she had come looking anyroad. It was always possible that there was something that had been overlooked, a box of sundries that had been hidden or forgotten about, a hidden stash of preserved delights that could brighten up the season, maybe some preserved meat that had been mislabelled.

Instead, they had found exactly what was expected as they had gone through the boxes. Preserved vegetables in reasonable supply. Vinegar, as much as one could want. Some wine, so long as one was not interested in drinking it. Pepper and salt and laurel enough. Flour, at least, to make the rolls that would be expected. But no meat. The steinbock had been a fresh kill from a recent hunt, and a lucky one at that, but that was it. The salted and preserved meat had all been sent out elsewhere, and the portion they had set aside for themselves had become depleted sennights ago.

Zoissette stood up and rubbed her back.

"...maybe we could send the scouts out to see if they can find another herd," the head chef offered helpfully.

"No," said Zoissette. "We have to be careful. The animals have had it as hard as us during this calamity. If the herds are to recover, we must be singularly circumspect about how we hunt them."

The chef sighed, but nodded.

The sergeant-at-arms grunted. "We've spent too much trying to keep all of Coerthas afloat by ourselves. If those idiots of House Durendaire weren't trying so hard to get that blasted vigil back, then w-"

"Then the horde may have not been so distracted, and could be pressing down on us right now instead of pulling back," said Zoissette. "Let Durendaire seek their glory as they wish. We have done our duty. War is a logistics exercise, sergeant, and we have served well."

She knew that lesson all too keenly. Moons spent poring over supply lines. Sennights spent worrying about whether or not messengers had been received at various farms, with instructions on how to shift to methods that would yield crop. Letters sent, so many letters, asking for help, bartering for supply, anything.

They would survive this winter, but only just. But the next year promised, if not relief, at least an easing away from the precipice, as they all adapted.

The Ishgardians were, after all, a martial people. And Zoissette was well-learned, not only in the strategies of her homeland, but in the methods a capable arcanist ought to know. She would see them through this, in the ways she knew how.

Which still left her with a nearly empty larder.

Zoissette pried open the last box. The sergeant-at-arms looked past her to look into it, and groaned.

"Well," he said. "At least dessert is covered, I guess, if we want to send every man and woman to bed with an awful twinge in their jaws and have them wake up with rotted teeth."

She had found a box full of bags of hard candy. Easy to keep, easy to store. All you needed was sugar, and nothing more. So long as it was kept dry. And she had as much as one could want, which as it turned out when one was no longer a child, was not much at all. And it was a common gift sent from well-meaning parishioners to the men and women of the front lines.

Zoissette closed her eyes, and considered.

"Alright," she said. "We have a few days. Time enough. Master Chef, if I get you some mudpuppy, do you think the enlisted mess could make a decent enough meal of it?"

The chef looked thoughtful, rubbing his chin. "Well, we've got vinegar here - dry out that awful mucous they have. The wine's rubbish, but let it soak in, and it could break down their stringiness some. Laurel to work with the wine and round out the flavour. Salt and pepper to taste - yeah. I think any idiot could make it work."

"Very well," said Zoissette. "Here is the plan. Master Chef, you take the steinbock we do have, and first pick of the materials we have here - and I do mean first pick, make it count. I am sending you to the forward camp to prepare their Starlight feast. Tell them it is a gift from you, a thank you in recognition of the fact that they are spending the holiday out on the ice sheets."

"...of course, ser Vauban," said the head chef with a bow. "...though I daresay your fellow officers may be annoyed."

"They can deal with it. Sergeant, gather the senior enlisted. The officers shall join you. The mudpuppies seem to have thrived in the current clime, and that is putting undue pressure on the other wildlife. We are going to go cull them, and bring them back for cooking. Meat enough for Starlight. Just tell them of the hunt, and nothing more. I will be the one to tell them that all shall be eating from the enlisted mess this year."

"As you say, madam."

The chef and the sergeant turned to leave.

"Master chef?" asked Zoissette.

He paused, and turned. "Ser Vauban?"

"...any idiot, you say?"

He looked at her a moment, and nodded.

"Hmn," she said. "Very well."

-*-

The soldiers of the fort had been abuzz for a few bells. They were on holiday routine for Starlight, and had been enjoying the first relatively long period of free time many of them had known for some moons. The watches were manned, but most other responsibilities had been delayed or handled until after Starlight had gone.

Many of those with children had written home, telling their families of hopes that the next year would not be bitter, or trying to bring up their spirits for the current season. All had come now to stand outside the mess hall, however, and were wondering what they might look forward to. The senior enlisted and the officers were alongside them, and all were hungry. Some complained, but many more pointed to the stoic example of their commander. She had spared no privileges for herself, sharing in their circumstances, and if she could endure the harsh winter, then so would they.

The sergeant came by and opened the doors at last, planting himself to be first. The men and women of the fort got into an orderly line behind him, and made their way to the serving area of the kitchen, where they were each greeted in turn by Knight Captain Vauban.

"Madam," the sergeant said as he held out his plate.

"Sergeant," she responded cheerfully, as she took it, and placed a steaming slice of seared eft steak onto it. She pointed. "Pick a jar of whatever vegetable you like, grab a roll, and take a bag of candy if you would like. Happy Starlight."

"Happy Starlight," he returned gruffly.

"Next!" she called out, and a younger soldier stepped up, looking perplexed at the exchange he had just witnessed.

"Uh, begging your pardon, ser Vauban..." he began.

He blinked at the brightness of the smile she gave him as she held out her hand.

"Plate, soldier?" she asked.

He handed it over dumbly, and she placed a slice of steak on his plate as well, and gestured.

"A jar of whatever you like," she said. "Grab a roll, and a bag of hard candy if you wish. Happy Starlight."

"Happy Starlight," he said dumbly, as he moved down the line. One of the officers made his way to the front, the others moving out of his way, looking at one another, still confused and uncertain of what was going on. The officer stepped up, and looked at Vauban keenly. After a moment, however, he stepped around behind her, and made his way to where the crates of preserved vegetables were being kept.

"Easier to keep the line moving," he said, "If one of us is handing these out instead of just letting them fumble them around."

"Thank you."

"Hmph. Might have mentioned this plan of yours when we were fetching the damnable beasts."

Zoissette looked to the next person in line, and gestured at them to approach.

"It is holiday routine," she said. "I decided to handle this myself."

"Of course," he said archly.

The next soldier stepped up. And then the next, and the next. Zoissette served them each in turn, the officer helping her, and when the Sergeant was finished eating, he came back and began to help as well, making sure the bags of hard candy were always in easy reach. Another soldier began to shuffle the rolls between the oven and the baskets.

And so Starlight passed in the fort, well into the evening, when at last everyone had had, if not their fill, at least a serving of meat, blessed meat, and greens to follow it with.

It was not until late when Zoissette was finally free to take her leave, grabbing a plate for herself. The pickings were thin by this point, but she managed to get a small tip of eft steak for herself, a jar of vinegared cucumber, a roll, and a bag of some of the hard candy that had been found in the storage area.

Many others were still milling around in the mess hall, the sergeant among them. She nudged him on the shoulder as he went out.

"I will be in my office," she said.

He looked at her seriously. "It's Starlight. Why not stay out here, madam?"

She shook her head. "The soldiers do not need their commander looming over them while they try to enjoy their time."

"...as you say, madam," he said, though he did not look convinced.

No matter. She made her way to her office, leaving the door open in case she was needed, and sat down.

It was not much.

But it was better than nothing, and far better than many had expected.

She ate her meal in silence, wondering if she should write a letter home. Let her brother know that his people were alright after all this time. Maybe a letter to nervous anxious father, reassuring him that all was well. A letter to the de Baires, inquiring as to how they were getting on.

As she ate, however, her attention drifted. The season was not over yet, and summer was some ways away. They would need to find other ways to replenish their stock. She looked over figures and through records, checking boxes and filing through drawers for paperwork, frowning over maps, until at last she reached for her roll and found it missing.

She looked over and found that she had eaten her entire meal, and had hardly tasted it for as little mind as she had paid it.

Well, she still had the small bag of hard candy. She opened it up, pulled out a small piece, and rotated it in her fingers for a moment, looking it over.

She then stuck it in her mouth, and sat back in her chair, and contemplated her desk for a bit.

Hard days behind and hard days ahead.

But she would manage.

She always did.

-*-

Zoissette rotated the small piece of hard candy in her fingers, blinking at it, thinking, and she began to rock gently in her chair, holding her laughter in. She bent over, closed her eyes, and wrapped her arms around her waist.

This entire situation was ridiculous. She was ridiculous. She had handled much and more in her time on this star, and she had been through much and worse in the past.

Knight Captain Vauban of Ishgard had survived the calamity, and so had the men and women under her command. Her command! She had been responsible for lives. And now, Zoissette Vauban, esquire, was sitting in what was arguably the most enlightened city of the star, having not only survived what might have been the end of the world, but had seen the star through it all.

And she was despairing over a research opportunity and a man.

She was glad her mother was not here to see her. How disappointing, that a woman like herself was acting like an idiot barely past their growth.

"Madam?" she heard, and she looked up sharply at the voice.

But it was just the waiter, back to check on the bill, and with a concerned expression on their face. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out slow. And when she opened her eyes again, they were lazy and half-lidded, and she was certain she had the gentle smile of Ishgardian politeness on her face as she put her money on the little tray, and enough for a tip aside.

"Thank you," she said, standing up.

"...of course," they said, falling back on professionalism, and taking the bill, money and all, with a slight bow. "Happy Starlight."

"Happy Starlight," she said, as she walked away, considering.

Well.

What had gotten her through those terrible times before was planning, knowledge, and execution, and that was all that she needed now. Conflicted feelings need not enter the equation. It was simple. What course of action would allow her to achieve her desired goals?

Well. Any Scion research would be for the good of the realm, of course. She already had the paperwork ready, and copies filed back at Gage Headquarters. She was not sure at all why she had hesitated, and she would not do so now. Though that could wait until after Starlight.

As for the question of Mathye, he was a good man, and a former knight dragoon as well. She wished once more that she could ask Riven for advice, but she would have to settle for what she could glean from observation. They worked well together. And she was a former knight herself. Why, there was certainly no reason not to entertain his advances, and perhaps see whether or not they would lead to courtship. Though that also could wait until after Starlight, as well as perhaps until after whatever particular troubles they were having cleared up. And certainly she could sort out her feelings on that particular question as they went along.

She looked at the small piece of hard candy once more, and tossed it lightly in the air, and almost caught it on the way back down, bouncing it from hand to hand several times as she tried to catch it before finally getting a firm grasp on it and sticking it in her mouth. She grinned around it as she did so.

She had a plan, and now she just had to see it through execution. Surely now everything would turn out fine. She was clearly just overthinking everything.

She hummed to herself as she went along the paths of Old Sharlayan. Yes. She would manage.

She always did.

[inqorporeal]

First Lines Meme

Tagged by @reliciron

Tagging @actualanxiousswampwitch, @araceil, @shadowmaat, and anyone else who wants in!

Rules: Post the first sentence of your last ten fics. If you haven't written ten fics, share as many first-sentences as you have. 

Evening fell upon Gridania, and the Carline Canopy was doing a brisk business between the local adventurers and the residents relaxing at the end of the day. (Meat and Popotoes, FFXIV one-shot)

First launched in YC93, Eye of the Serpent earned immediate notoriety for both its ambitious script and its simplistic production design. (Eye of the Serpent -- Episode One "The Black Freighter", EVE Online one-shot)

There was something strange about the bookshop. (Secret Agent Men, Good Omens one-shot)

The door, well-oiled and soft on its hinges, opened with the click of the latch the only sound. (Stealing Away, FFXIV one-shot)

Sugi stared around as the exclusive levels of Outland zipped past their transit car. (Raising the Stakes, Star Wars, ongoing)

The room in the Baldesion Annex, cluttered with scholarly paraphernalia, was never entirely dark. (The Restless Living, FFXIV one-shot)

Yugiri was too proud to let her shoulders slump at the guard's callous dismissal, but it still stung. (An Inhospitable Realm, FFXIV one-shot)

For the first six years of his life, Boba had tried, once a week, to make the connection. (The Lines We Draw, Star Wars soulmates AU, completed)

It was rare, Theron mused, that things were so quiet that they had a moment to relax like this.  (Future Tense, SWTOR one-shot)

As far as their first action alongside their Generals went, this was not how Cody had envisioned it. (A Trooper’s Guide to Lightsaber Maintenance, Star Wars one-shot)

[selachiixiv]

Morsel

Late summer, early fall in the Forelands; the leaves are turning, the air is beginning to crisp up, and so are the popotos in his frying pan. Every year they've had better stores building up in preparation for the winter chill, and this year is no different, Hyacinthe's preservations and connections through the restaurant helping them fill in where Sorn's hunting and the priest's foraging cannot keep pace (particularly if they must go on a hunt, where recovery may tax their resources).

The lion's mane hit the pan closer to the end, followed by the thinly sliced butterbeef that Hyacinthe had gotten from Morokiyo, a distinct sizzling noise filling the cabin and luring the wolf out of the bath, his calloused hands coming to rest on the priest's hips as he cooks, nosing into the head of curls until he has to pull away to be fed a morsel.

"Ough. Good. How do you just keep getting better and better with every year."

It draws a rich chuckle out of Hyacinthe, turning just enough to steal a lingering kiss from his mate. "I don't know, might have something to do with the partners I'm lucky enough to keep around me, you chiefly, mon cher loup."

Ah, there's the blush that delights him so spreading across the hunter's blue-grey cheeks, the telltale swish of his tail in the air behind him at the praise, particularly when it's followed by the twist of the dancer's body to retrieve a plate to dish up and hand to him. "Eat. We have business to pursue on the morrow and I need you well-fed."

The wolf does not need it to be an order to respond to it as if it is one, doing as he's told and settling into his chair before the fire, a mug of steaming tea being set down beside him shortly after he does, although his ears perk up at the mention of business. "What are we about?"

"I need to meet a new business contact in Urqopacha, and they've promised to have hot mate and a good meal waiting for us. Something slowly cooked underground, reportedly, so it's going to be just-"

"Falling apart." Sorn's already looking hungry again and he hasn't even finished half of his dinner.

"Exactly." The priest settles into his own chair with his dish and mug of a thick pomegranate drink that he'd picked up somewhere in Ul'dah, theoretically supposed to help him not be caffeinated to the gills on nights he doesn't work, but sometimes both Sorn and Shrike wonder if he produces his own natural caffeine given that he's still next to impossible to get to sleep on any normal schedule. "Anyhow, I was speaking to other contacts there about Gelmorran cuisine and they're interested in some cultural exchange, and Nald'thal knows I am entirely happy to do it, especially since the benefit to me is taking back a good quantity of popoto varieties we haven't got here and seeing how they handle Gelmorra."

"Ohhhhh. I can send some down deeper, if you like, and see how far beneath they'll grow well..."

The light of the fire catches the gilded bones of Hyacinthe's jaw and the blue-violet gleam of his skin as he grins, nodding. "That would be even better. Gives us a basis for comparison of where they thrive best."

They eat their dinner in the sort of content quiet that comes with years, the priest eventually moving over to his mate's chair after finishing, nestling in against him and relaxing there, every last bit of tension he carries naturally in his body dropping off. These sweet morsels of time when nothing needs attending but love.

[snowymuses]

Mini FFXIV Muse List

Primary

Koyakumo Shindou (Tatsuro) - Warrior of Light/Darkness

Originally a canon to an obscure series, her main verse has become FFXIV. An amnesiac due to events within 1.0, she is the WoL on the blog. 5.3 compliant, and able to be roleplayed at any point in the game. 

Azuna Hirohito - Non-WoL OC, based in the First

A fandomless OC, her verse for FFXIV places her as a tragic woman from the First. A healer with a traumatic past, she is not for the feint of heart. 

Secondary

Ysayle Dangoulain - Canon Divergent Lady Iceheart

Both with a Ysayle Lives AU as well as her revival when Ryne connects with her spirit in the First within Eden, Ysayle is available at all points of the game and typically remains in Ishgard.

Osiris “Sargon”  - Non-WoL Scion OC

A mysterious winged man, Osiris is tied to Koyakumo’s original verse and is not of the world of Eorzea, whether the Source or the First. A Shinzo based OC placed into a timeline in FFXIV, he works as a Scion in the shadows to learn more about the world he has been plunged into.

Request Only >

Y’ukihime Ywons - Alternate Universe Exarch G’raha Tia - Canon Divergent/Alternate Universe

Although granted the echo and deemed a Warrior of Light, Y’ukihime went into the Crystal Tower instead of G’raha Tia as someone with Allagan blood as well. She was made in tandem with a G’raha that instead became a Scion/Adventurer immediately and she took over his roles as Exarch. Due to their familial bonds, there will never be a ship between her and G’raha, and is only used/mentioned at partner’s comfort. She does not become a Scion after 5.3.

Suzaku - Canon Divergent 

After resealing Koryu and encountering the Warrior of Light, she feels that Tenzin’s soul must have been reborn. She seeks it out in a human form, but also retains her Auspice form when necessary. 

Nanamo Ul Namo - Canon Compliant

Itty bitty popoto queen that still likes to sneak out of Ul’dah

[veloxaraptor]

Never Ending Survey- Gan Raizure

BASICS.

FULL NAME: Gan Raizure of the Haragin Tribe

NICKNAME: Sharkie, Grumpy Guppy

AGE:  35

BIRTHDAY:   19th sun of the 4th Astral Moon

ETHNIC GROUP: Yokai 

NATIONALITY: Xaela/Othardian

LANGUAGE/S: Common, Xaela, Pirate, Hingan, Ancient Yangxian, very basic Doman

SEXUAL ORIENTATION : Bisexual

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : Biromantic

RELATIONSHIP STATUS:  Married, Polyamorous Relationship

HOME TOWN / AREA:  The Azim Steppes and Limsa Lominsa

CURRENT HOME:  The Goblet, Ul’dah

PROFESSION: Mercenary, Novelist, Relic Hunter

PHYSICAL.

HAIR: Long, straight, violet with teal highlights.

EYES: Green and Orange

FACE: Angular, Square/Rectangular in shape

LIPS: Between thin and full

COMPLEXION: Tanned

BLEMISHES:  None

SCARS:  SO MANY. Major ones are gunshot on back left shoulder, one on her right shoulder, a bite mark on the right side of her chest, three claw marks under her left eye, a spear stab on her left side under the ribs, claw marks on the right side of her belly from navel to hip.

TATTOOS: None

HEIGHT:  4′ 9″

WEIGHT: 115 ponze

BUILD:  Muscular, solid

FEATURES:  Black sclera, black markings around her eyes

ALLERGIES:  None that she is aware of

USUAL HAIR STYLE:  Half up and braided

USUAL FACE LOOK :  Scowling or “Wtf”

USUAL CLOTHING:  Chest wraps, shorts, no shoes

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR/S: Losing her loved ones, being alone, mirrors, tentacles

ASPIRATION/S:  To protect her loved ones, to grow a wonderful family, to someday break the cage she’s put on herself mentally

POSITIVE TRAITS: Quick acting, loyal, honest, loving, passionate

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Reckless, restless, impulsive, stubborn, quick to anger.

TEMPERAMENT:   somewhat aggressive

SOUL TYPE/S:  Warrior

ANIMALS:  Shark, wolf 

VICE HABIT/S: Alcohol, smoking, fighting

FAITH: None, though references Halone more often than not

GHOSTS?: Yes

AFTERLIFE?: Unsure

REINCARNATION?:  Yes

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT: Stays out of it

EDUCATION LEVEL:  None. All self taught.

FAMILY.

FATHER : Bataar of the Haragin (Deceased) 

MOTHER :  Ehri of the Haragin (deceased)

SIBLINGS : Torugana Arulaq (Half sister) and possibly many more

EXTENDED FAMILY: Unknown, late husband’s siblings (there’s like 5 of them)

NAME MEANING/S: “The Bold One”

HISTORICAL CONNECTION?: None.

FAVORITES.

BOOK:  Mysteries and romances

DEITY: None

HOLIDAY:  All Saint’s Wake. (Though she finds most holidays a bit bizarre)

MONTH: October/November

SEASON:  Autumn

PLACE: any beach

WEATHER: Overcast. Bonus if it’s raining.

SOUND / S: The ocean, rain, thunderstorms

SCENT / S:  Sea air, lavender

TASTE / S:  buuz, chocolate, alcohol

FEEL / S:  Snuggling the husband or boyfriend, sand underfoot, water on skin

ANIMAL / S:  sharks, cats

NUMBER: 6

COLORS: Black, Purple, Blue

EXTRA.

TALENTS: Cooking, writing, swimming, fighting

BAD AT: Drawing, singing, dancing, expressing herself

TURN ONS: Loyalty, straightforwardness, protectiveness, violence

TURN OFFS: Naivete, intentional stupidity, inability to take responsibility for things 

HOBBIES: Cooking, smoking, writing, swimming, fighting

TROPES: Femme Fatale, scrappy scrapper, tough outside soft inside, breaking the chains, being bad doesnt mean you cant be nice

QUOTES :

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 : If you could write your character your way in their own movie,  what would it be called, what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about?          

A1 :  An action flick. Probably set in feudal Japan. I got nothing else.

Q2 :  What would their soundtrack/score sound like?          

A2 :  Lots of orchestral pieces, even mix of epic feeling and some gentle, more feelsy pieces.

Q3 :  Why did you start writing this character?      

A3 : I wanted to work with a character that’s hard to get along with, but really is just well meaning despite her actions and methods. From there she just kind of evolved into her own thing.

Q4 :   What first attracted you to this character?          

A4 : She’s different from what I usually play. Generally I play stoic, assassiny types that focus on logic instead of emotion.

Q5 :  Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse.

A5 : Somehow everyone wants a piece of her? Well not everyone, but a lot of people want their characters to be with her in some capacity and it’s overwhelming at times.

Q6 :  What do you have in common with your muse?        

A6 :  I am incredibly protective and defensive of my friends and loved ones.

Q7 :   How does your muse feel about you?          

A7 :   What a bitch.

Q8 :  What characters does your muse have interesting interactions with ?    

A8 :  Gosh it’s hard to really say. Things have led me to not being in touch with too many people anymore. But Aanzo who she likes to call her Papa Popoto, Idristan who she regards as a friend but likes to heckle, her husband Noise, of course.

Q9 :  What gives you inspiration to write your muse ?        

A9 : Just kinda... anything really.

Q10 : How long did this take you to complete ?          

A10 : Longer than I care to admit because I kept getting distracted. >.>

Tagged by @roses-and-grimoires

Tagging.... you!!!

[yolandajulius]

Common Magic

A one shot because of course this drabble decided it needed to be a oneshot.

Because people plant cute ideas for ships in my mind and Yolie’s parent figures are all terrible role models. Safe for consumption if you can handle it.

A stronger man would have moved o.

That was what crossed Noudenet's mind almost daily; the feeling he should have simply kept walking to his destination, the fact he could and shoulf have easily ignored the young outsider whom came to Ishgard with a scant handful of other nonbelievers by will of House Fortemps. But he didn't and the conjurer couldn't help his irritation with himself. The woman was a Garlan, and thus she didn't even have the most basic of the Fury's blessings -- the gift of magic. But, he supposed, from listening, she had other qualities, he supposed, and for those he was able to make peace with the twinge of guilt at letting himself grow close.

She was an outsider, a non-believer, but she wasn't judging him when he lingered, speaking of the Fury's will. She listened, quietly taking it in, asking questions. Some were like those of children, others, far more challenging but no less respectful, harboring the ring of curiousity of one whom genuinely cared about what they believed. She always heard him out in silence, simply working on her cookery as she did, and she was never one to seem unreadable. On a level, she seemed to even enjoy it.

Prtjspd hr'f mskr s brlirbrt og hrt yrt, nuy thrn voild he trouble her with thje sin of how close they were? Noner whm believed would dare treat a member of the Heavens' Ward so casually. They were on a pedestal, a platyform that left a sense of disconnect between them, and the people, at times. It was certainly unlikely they'd continue their quiet moments, Noudenet buried deep in his resrearch, seated on a floor with pillows while she laid her head on his legs to rest, safe and secure in the trust he would let no ill come to pass. That...

Noudenet supposed he would miss tyhat trust, innocent as it was. She might treat him like others did, not as the companion she came to share her cooking projects with, the man she'd learned to trust with her joys and woes. They'd lose that connection, he feared -- a connection he greatly vbalued. He'd miss her smile, her lack of fear in telling him her feelings about events, the honesty with which they spoke. She was genuine, polite, considerate, careful, and kind. It wasn't the kind born of generations of grooming and stilted church lessons of modesty and compassion -- she had learned it in the wilds and that was a rare gift. Still, a styronger man would have passed her originaly.

Noudenet approached the space Yolanda preferred to practice -- she didn't mind being watched, so long as nobody minded testing what she made, and that was how they'd met. Halone be good, but the man never refused a good fruit tart, or rolanberry jam-filled anything, to even begin. and this Garlean woman was a culinarian of some skill. To thinmk she was self-educated to cook and bake blew him away. She ravenously tried new recipes and shared the results for weal or for woe -- nothing was wasted, but Noudenet found it rather comforting to be able to wait patiently for her sweets.

Noudenet's reverie was fiercely interrupted by the warm scent of a cookfire, filling his nostrils with the scent of fresh meats, spices and herbs telling him she'd gotten hold of some dhamel chuck that was being seared and roasted on the flames, and he drew to the crowd lazily, taking in the scent of basil and rhyme, sage and a faint aromatic of cinnamon and clove, the woman carefully bastingthe cut of meat with a butter sauce to glaze it, and Noudenet wondered what she might be making. The delicate aromatics were accented, on closer inspection, with what he suspected -- cinnamon and clove with a smattering of rich dark maple sugar to compliment the herbs; the butter sauce was warmly golden, bits of minched garlic and onion in it, and the slowly forming crust spoke of salt and groundf black pepper, but Noudenet diudn't move much closer at first, watching silently. Yolanda nodded to him silently, a small smile forming before she hummed, removing some popotoes to slip deep in the embers -- so, it was mostly a roast she was trying to make taste right. For now, at least -- and Noudenet drew himself to a position of espectful curiousity to watch. Slow roasts could take time, but she'd clearly been set up most of the day, meaning his timing for her to begin practicing sweets was perfect.

It was dascinating to see how one cooked without magic. Unable to properly manipulate crystals of water or fire, and yet capable of taking naturally occuring -- or crystal-originating water and flame to create the same thing was almost mesmerising. She moved expertly, yet still clearly learning, removing the roast dhamel from the flame to slice on a clean, wide stone slab silently,allowing the meat rest before beginning to wash a mixing bowl with a pail of water, clearly one of many. Noudenet watched silently as she worked to create a simple flatbread, pouring the batter on a second stone she placed on the fire, waiting for it to heat through, batter on top and all with a gaze of wonder. Nothing would be prepared together, and that was normal. Those whom knew the woman's cooking space and came often didn't expect a meal, they enjoyed a curiosity, and she seemed aware,slicing the roast in silence before sharing the cuts with those gathered, and Noudenet scowled to himself -- she'd taken to using her aged lance to cook again, and while she was not a Dragoon he could almost feel the one or two present wince, but there wasn't much to do for it. She didn't own a proper spit. Noudenet accepted a heel carefully, wondering if it might be as sweet and savory as it smelled, and contemplated silently, sllowing himself to pick the flavors apart. It wasn't the finest combination, but it was perhaps the sweetness, too strong for the liking of the conjurer when iyt came to his meat. Still, it was far from blande, and he was no culinarian. He watched as he ate small bites of the food in silence still. The flatbread was off the stone, sliced to share with those gathered as she poured the rest of the batter out, before beginning to clean out her bowl before removing a second. He hoped it meant she made sweets soion, and she didn't disappoint him when she pulled some rolanberries and walnuts from her sack, the conjurer lighting up atthe sight as she hummed, beginning to prepare a simple butter and sugary syrup to add things to as she cleaned the berries and nuts. Noudenet looked somewhat hopeful as she worked to start heating the berries, allowing them to simmer but not burn, turning to remove the potatoes and passing them to some Brume lowborn whom often came to watch as she worked on slicing and sharing flatbread. This he passed, even as he finished the meat -- his eyes locked on the slowly cooking fruit, walnuts awaiting adding to the candying process, and he was not disappointyed as she soon added them and stirred the mixture. She then began to work on a dough -- filo, if he recalled correctly, which meant laminating butter in and -- oh. A touch of pink came to his ears as he finally cast the woman a questioning look, earning a coy smile in response tht answered his unspoken question before he hummed.

"Yiu forgot the creamed cheese." He said firmly. Yolanda made a noise of surprise before iut sank in, and she frowned, considering her options as she paused,a voice huffing.

"Typical, the unbelievers are so useless." Someone muttered. "Especially Garleans -- who can expect some barbaric race to know anything? The Fury doesn't even gift them magic -- worthless, really."

The commentary was low, the sort common in a gossiping group and a few murmured assessment -- new facs mostly seeking to see what drew a crowd, and Noudenet watched silently at the brief, but telling movements the woman made. A twitch, a slight wince and a cringe, before he reached impulsively and ran his fingers throughher hair to cup her cheek.

"I can fetch some. It's an honest mistake." He spoke, voice soothing before the Ward Knight moved off, eyes judghing those murmuring with scathing disapproval. Were they thaumaturges or conjurers themselves? Their garb spoke not, instead mostly of lowborn or lower nobles, those more inclined to shun an outsider, but magicians? Hardly. His errand was executed swiftly -- taking to the crozier to collect the needed materiels before he returned. They were gossiping, of course.

"Do youthink she even knows how to make things right?" someone muttered. Another scoffed.

"I heard in Garlemald they barely eat anything. Coerthans have better fare."

"That blandpile? Makes you wonder what she thinks she's doing."

Noudenet scowled sharply once more, gaze disapproving as he took in every face present, reading them before drawing close to the woman he cared for, pressing the supplies into her lap gently.

"Here you are, these will suffice." Noudenet soothed, but his gaze never fully left the newcomers, appraising them thuroughly. Not a magician among them, he concluded, and Noudenet sniffed his disdain, rising towards them, but not moving from his position close to the woman.

"T'would seem she has a far better grasp of the Fury's teachings than a lot of ill-bred, ill-mannered children whom have naught better to do with themselves than judge a woman attempting to find the true path to the Fury's Halls." Noudenet scolded sharply, letting his judgement sink into their terrified expressions. He never once tried to force Yolanda's hand, but a little creative phrasing? There was no sin in that, and he greeted her startled expression with a calm, reassuring gaze, nodding politely.

":Do not let the words of ill mannered smallfolk trouble you, Miss Julius." Noudenet soothed. He dared not pull her to him to shield -- he didn't dare risk a threat to her safety with the harridans present. "You cook well enough and everyone makes mistakes learning a new recipe besides. None will judge whom seeks to remain on the path to the Fury's halls and those whom might may yet earn Her disapproval."

The message was rather clear. Although wrapped in reminders of the scripture that guided Ishgard, by the Fury's disapproval, he meant his, and by his, he meant judgement, the ill spoken moving away nervously before scrabbling for their homes. Noudenet knelt, and watched her work, pulling a card with her intended pastry recipe from her belongings to verify how to use the creamed cheese before making an awkward, sheepish noise before working it into the warm compote and nuts, watching the woman waiut for her dough to proof if slowly, before smiling faintly as she began to turn dough into a fruit and nut jam-like filled pasty, watching her gently seal each parcel and brush egg on it to let it turn golden, before placing the treats on the styone and covering them to create her oven. It was imperfect but it was something, and she mostly cleaned as they waited, quiet for once as she worked before looking away when her hands fell idle. Noudenet knew this look all too well and he never liked it -- she was troubled by what had been said, both what he heard and likely missed, the conjurer staying byher in silence with others about. She didn't meet his gaze, didn't look at anyone -- her mind was deep in thought, and Noudenet finally allowed himself to worrry. When she was like this he wanted to hold her to him and heal the pain she didn't show on the flesh, but the soul, and his fingers ran throughhis hair these times as he would murmur reassuring proverbs in her ear. They were quiet moments when he wasn'ta Knight of the Heavens' Ward but a man who simply wished to offer some modicum of succor to the worn soul of the person he cared for. And right now he was in public, unable to act beyond silentlystanding close, allowing her to feel him standing by her side watching. It wasn't enough for him, though, and it dogged him.

Finally, however, the thrice-damned lid was off and the pastries moved to cool from baking, which meant soon he could do something about it, and not a moment too soon. The quiet was making him uncomfortable and the conjurer felt himself shift to fidget as he often spotted Grinnaux, Paulecraine, or, even though it was rare, an act Charibert even indulged in, the conjurer allowing frustration to wash over him like a blizzard. He appreciated the care she exercised in baking and cooking, but the woman was being damnably slow right now, and he wished she moved a little more swiftly -- he had little patience for the melancholy she'd allowed to wash over her, and was quite eager to spirit her away from things to do something about it, and as a hrealer, it frankly bothered him to be idle while someone was in clear and apparent pain. Yolanda finally deigned her attempt at filled croissants completed when she began to pass them to those whom remained -- faces Noudenet recognized. They knew where the real rewards of her cookery lie, and they didn't seem to judge. Instead he waited, letting them take the free pastries with gratitude, perhaps more than normal considering the tonguelashing he left the less kind, but still gratitude before she offered him the last, the conjurer taking it gently as she began to clean, putting the fire out after allowing it to consume what it could of fond on her pans, and the conjurer allowed himself to indulge in the creamy and sweet flavor of the pastry, eyes closing. Fury take him, but the woman knew her fruits and flavors with sweets and were he still living as his father's house he'd have seized on the woman for his wife long ago. It was sweet, selicately sweetened with just a smallamount of maple sugar and honey, but tart and hardy, and the earthy walnuts broughtthe flavors together ina warm embrace to his palate, the Ward Knight closing his eyes and losing himself in the treat several silent moments, sighing softly in contentment as he ate. The woman simply... There were no words for how Noudenet felt about her baking -- but if this was an apprentice to that Miqo'te, then the miqo'te was a phenominal chef and teacher. Well, he'd seek him out if Charibert sought some gingertsnaps or something. Noudenet was wrtapped around the woman's pinky, and for several moments he could forget thata Garlean could never perform great feats of magic -- no skill in the arts of thaumatyurgy, conjury, or anything properly magic but cooking? She was magic there in another way, a way that afforded her a skill for delicious fgood even if the materiuals for cooking were often poor for her location or the textures imperfect. She was magic in the art of cooking, and when he opened his eyes from savoring the pasyry, they were alone, Yolanda watching in some concern.

"Did I ruin it?" She asked finally. Noudenet swallowed, and placed his fingertips along her jawline, eyes boring into hers fondly.

"No, not at all, my violet. I simply wished to savor the pastry. It was quite exquisite, and you'd have it perfect in a proper kitchen." Noudenet's fingers trailed along her chin and jaw softly, the Garlean turning pink and looking away.

"I can do better. The fruit overcooked, the roast was oversweetened, and I'm all but sure that fglatbread was underseasoned." She huffed. "I'm not getting this right at all. Maybe they're right."

There it was. Noudenet's fingers moved of their own accord, brushing hair from her face before taking her chin in his fingers, giving her a quiet, hard look.

"They were judgemental fools whospoke out of turn of things they know nothing of. You really mustn't give weight to their words, my violet. They're merely insects seeking to takeof you, and give nothing. A fire crystal is naught but a crystalfrom which fire is produced,awater crystal naught but acrystal from which weater is produced. You create both of that which the Fury provides all of us."

Yolanda was thoughtful, allowing herself to trn his words over in her mind, and he offered her his arm politely, the Garlean accepting it before he drew her close to walk with her, letting the quiet help his words sink in before she spoke.

"Temperature affects food." She finally admitted. "And the conditions they cook in. Crystals can help change that." Yolanda looked down hesitantly, frowning. "I can't use them to control heat or moisture as well. Wild fire is hotter than aetheric, right?"

"Not so, my violet." Noudenet felt a faint surge of excitement wash over him -- a chance to tell her of the way of magic, even if she could not use it herself, was still something he could share. He led her for the Vault, keeping her close to him to ensure none questioned as he guided her for his cell, almost giddy at the opportunity. When he entered, the Garlean was quietly focusd on the floor, seeming to studythe mortar binding ancient stones as he led her to sit upon his bed. Noudenet diud not sit. The conjurer closed his door before witthdrawing a handful of crystals, turning to her gently as he cradled them with quiet pride, feeling their aether dance in his fingertips like lightening or flames, the potential raising his excitement as he handed them to her.

"You know what these are meant to do, yes? Each represents another element. Earth, water, ice, flame, wind, lightening. That's what each produces when asked of it by those capable." He did not forget her inability to use them, and she looked away, down to the aetherically charged crystals as if begging them for some miracle that they might spontaniously react to her will, and Noudenet placed his hands around her own, calling the elements wiuthin to respond to him, startling her as he continued.

"They each offer us a means to access their gifts. You call them through other ways. Perhaps, not aetherically or magically but it is no less a call. You take flint to metal for fire, yes?" Noudenet focused on the fire crystal, the others growing inert again as the flame crystal heated rapidly, Yolie fasping and dropping it with a yelp, and the flame burgheoning withered again as Noudenet kept his grasp, wuilling water forth from the water crystal to soothe her burns a moment. He was quick to coax her to drop the lightening crystal lest it react as her hands filled with clear water before he ceased his summons of it, his larger hands remaining around her own smaller gently, supporting her hasnds so she could see. Feel.

"And the water is similar. There is no difference from them and your methods. The flames still burnt, the water still soothed, and is fine for a drink or wash or cooking. There is absolutely nothing wrong wuith your methods."

"But I can't use magic. That makes others look at me as poorly."

There was quiet, Noudenet reading her face quietly before he collected the crystals, placing them back in his supplies before moving back, allowing her to drinkthe water he called in her hands before pulling her into him, allowing her head to rest on his breast silently as his fingers worked her hair free of her normal ponytail to begin running through her hair softly, sighing. There was the root of her distress, something even the archbishop himself could not cure. A Garleancould not do a spell; they had no aethericv ability and never would. They lacked even children born with the Echo, and while at one time Noudenet had himself considered it a pitiable trait, he had come to resent how it affected Yolanda, the woman leaning into him as she sighed. She was clearly about to disparage herself and Noudenet shiftled his fingers tocup hert chin, pulling her to look at him softly, his other arm coiling around and reaching to take her hands to offer the gentle touch of healing magic to her burns, the counjurer, perhaps, also trying to shield her from the cruel fact of her birth.

"No, you do not work magiuc of the aether as many races do." Noudenet said, but conviction laced his voice. "But you do magic. Garleans do not use what we do but we need teachers to learn magitek. To create fire of a stone and a bit of metal. Magic makes matters too easy. You work with only what the gods give us and not with crystals. You are of a people whom learned to take little and make much more. Yours isn't aetheric or magic as it is defined but magic nonetheless in it's own right, which is a skill tyhat can be taught." Noudenetpressed a kiss to the top of her head before she glanced up quietly, the conjurer keepingher embraced, held to him closely.

"Yours are skills of merit. You must not lose sight of the skills you've fought to learn my violet, or you'll lose what you've gained. Please, my violet, do not give those curs that. They're below you." He sighed, letting that seep into her mind and bones, holdingthe woman close to him as she nestled in, thoughtfiullyparsing what he told her. The conjurer was content though; enjoying the company of her presence and the warmth of another person. Were he asked, he would say she was a pupil, of a kind, seeking to understand Eorzeran custom, or the Word of the Fury, and naught else. He would see to it them she was safely home, but for now he took in the knowledge her breath slowed from a slight panic, to the peaceful calm she enjoyed -- a sign his intent took seed. The elezen nuzzled at her ear softly, eyes closing some as he steeped himself inbthe scent of wood smoke and cooked food, metaland leather, and of another being, allowing himself to get lost in a daydream where he might whisk her away from House Fortemps and perhaps away from Ishgard, someplace they might be together with eyes unclouded by religious opinion or racist judgement. Maybe someplace like Gridania; she had mentioned camping in the Shroud often, and the conjurer's guild was there; or perhaps in Cylbrand, or...Anywhere they might enjoy the chance to be with one another freely, without judgement or fear, and the Ward Knight sighed softly, earning a shift of movement from his companion.

"Are you alright?" She asked him softly. Noudenet hummed.

"Day dreaming." He responded softly.

"What about?"

"...Rolanberrypie." He bluffed, and she laughed, relaxing him some to know she'd cheered enough, and he didn't resist returning the smile she facored him with.

"One-track mind." She teased softly, and he pulled her knuckles to him, pressing his lips to them lightly with a twinkle in his eye.

"Well, perhaps if I were a stronger man I could resist your culinary experiments, but I am as I am, and you know it." He teased softly, and she smiled, giggling again.

For now, all was right in Noudenet's world, and nothing seemed to be changing that for some time.

[whitherwanderer]

Ardeth Bayaqud put his hands up defensively, a stern look on his face telling her to wait before she shot him down ere he left the ground. His smile widened once again, and he took a dramatic step back, his arms opening wide. "A tavern," he finally said. "Think on it. Bar there. Stage here. Tables there, and there, and..." He pointed to places in the room, imagining the layout as he explained.

"Oh, just think! We could serve beverages from 'cross the star, what with your travels and the connections you've made. Those far from home could come for a taste of it, and those not far enough away can stop in for the same." He beamed as he spoke, his tail swaying behind him with evident vigor. "Now-- before you go and shut it down, at least give it thought!"

Nono Popoto blinked once, twice, thrice before his words finally seem to register. And then she started laughing. It was a few moments before she finally calmed down, wiping a tear from her eye as she finally looked back up at the xaela.

"Oh you're- Oh you're serious, oh gods. Okay."

"...I apologize, but the thought of leaving you with the building gives me pause."

Ardeth Bayaqud shrugged, faltering upon his words as though they had suddenly dammed up in his mouth. He finally sighed, a muted "ugh" leaving him. "...Warranted, I suppose," he huffed, then held out a hand. "But this is... different from a mere chore, see. This is something I truly aspire for, Nono. An idea what sets my heart aflame!" he implored, his hand lain across his chest. "I know not what else I might convince you with, but... well," he laughed sheepishly. "...You've no better ideas."

Nono Popoto raises a finger, as if to say something, but then puts it back down. She nods, defeated.

(( Nono: 1, Ardeth: 1. Honestly there were too many good parts of this RP. Hints at things to come with @shroudandsands​! ))

[sympathyforladyhealer]

“onee-chan get me snacks pls”

(Featuring @mercyrius ‘s Rhichan!)

"And will that be all fer ya?"

  Nenini Neni fell out of her fugue to look at the Roe woman who had just finished wrapping several pouches of herbs and spices up. The pungent scents warded away the ever present smell of salt that wafted from the ocean. "Oh, yes! Thank you," she gave the tall woman a smile and quickly counted out the gil to hand over to the woman. "Have a lovely day."

  The merchant nodded and turned her attention to the gil as Neni walked out of Hawker's Alley with basket in tow. The warm sun fought against the breeze  of the ocean. Her basket was full of foodstuffs, stacks of cornbread from the Drowning Wench, numerous slices of fish that had been carefully wrapped and marked, cabbages and other vegetables sitting under the spice pouches. It weighed heavily, pressing into the bandages that covered her ever-harmed arm. Neni had no experience in raising children but she was sure the hefty basket's contents would be enough to keep a growing boy fed for a few days.

  She mumbled the directions he had told her to herself as she followed the bridges that connected one building-swarmed rock to another. It was easy to get lost in Limsa Lomnisa, she had learned. Her eyes swept slowly across the people she passed. The chatter around mixed with the sound of the waves below. The smell of salt, the distant scent of fire... if she thought too much on it...

   Neni took a deep breath and rolled those unpleasant memories out of her head with more pressing considerations. Obviously she would need to figure out what to cook first, what to preserve. He had asked for snacks as well. Maybe she could use some of the more leafy vegetables, thin slices of the fish. She wondered how much vinegar was in his home. She had already made sure there was plenty of salt to cure what would not be eaten soon enough. The ever quiet... servant... had been helpful in lugging the heavy pots to the kitchen. 

Maybe she could see if there were any berries to make a compote with.

   Neni wished she had her father's note filled cookbooks. It had an extensive section on Vylbrand cuisine, especially the kind that the people of Limsa adored. Besides fish and popoto chips, Neni herself was not a large fan of the food to be found.

   She came to a stop as the sunlight dimmed above her. The young woman turned her head upwards to see thick grey clouds consuming the sun allowing only pitiful shafts of light to filter out. "Oh no." She had to hurry! She began a light jog across another section of plankwork that rattled unnervingly beneath her feet, then followed the curling white stone ramp that led below to another section of the city where she continued to mutter the directions.

   The Hyur paused again.

   She was beneath the Drowning Wench, where three men lingered beneath the ramp, vaguely yeasty smelling barrels sat atop boxes that had been left in place for so long that some sort of mold was gathering around their bottoms, and hushed conversations drifted about with no source in sight. She was not entirely certain she had followed the directions right but at least she ended up close to the meeting spot.

   "Hey you! Girl!"

   Neni had an awful feeling about responding, but her manners would not let her leave. "Yes?" She turned to see the three men had turned their attention to her.

   "You look like the hardy sort," one man, a Roegadym, said. "Are you lookin' for a job?"

   Neni shook her head, "oh no. I'm actually sort of doing one right now." She gestured to her basket.

   "Ah being an errand girl doesn't pay well does it? You got any skills besides carrying a basket?"

   She tipped her head, wondering if she was being insulted. "Well I do conjury work in Gri-" The Roe's eyes went wide.

   "A conjurer!?" He gasped.

   "Are ya a free one, lass?" One of the men besides the Roe asked. "Any ship would be more than grateful to have a conjurer on board!"

   She placed her free hand on her hip. These were sailors looking to recruit it seemed, "well I would not use the word 'free'. Also I'm afraid I don't have much of a stomach for the sea."

   "Aye, same for most," the Roe shook his large head. She heard footsteps, many of them, coming up behind her. "But a few moons out and it'll be as though you were born in a storm! Why, even my first mate spent most of his first journey heavin' over the side."

   "Mayhaps one day I'll be brave enough to join a crew," Neni said with a smile, "but I'm already rather content with my current forms of employment. Thank you for your offer though."

   The Roe sighed, shaking his head while the other man spoke, "lass, I don't think yer understandin' the situation yer in. We ain't givin' a choice."

   Pirates. She had been trapped by a group of pirates. She cursed herself for not politely excusing herself earlier.

   Neni felt a heavy hand squeeze her shoulder. Knots looped into her heart and her flesh felt cold, her hands going slack as she turned her head just slightly so she could peer out of the corner of her eye at a scarred Midlander man. "Don't touch me," she hissed through a strained grin. The knots in her heart undid themselves as the ambient aether around her exploded into a whip of water that sent the man fulms backwards.

   "Now, now, there's no reason to be violent," the Roe said gently as the tossed man was helped back to his feet by a dozen other people that had stood behind her. "But, we can do this the painful way, if you were wondering. I just prefer to recruit with minimal fights."

   "I have made my decision clear," Neni insisted. She brought her free hand to her arm, fingers pressing to the bandages that hid the torn flesh from view. Her heart was beginning to drum, and she could smell fire and salt again. "I do not wish to join, and I have somewhere to go."

    "Painful way it is I guess," the Roe sighed regretfully.

   "Captain Blauwyrn!"

   Every head turned to a cheery looking white haired miqo'te boy that stood beside the ramp leading upwards. His mouth broke into a wide smile while he held a grimoire in one hand. Neni took a few steps forward, ready to set the basket down and toss herself at the pirates if they showed even the slightest intention of hurting M'rhi. She would not allow it. Even without her staff she refused to let it happen. She was not powerless, she told herself.

   "M'rhi Tia!" The Roe took a step back in shock. "What are you doing here?"

   "Captain Blauwyrnm, why haven't you paid the 43,428,393 gil that you owe to Melvaan's Gate for the sixty three tonze of hidden cargo you had forgotten to put on your manifests for the past three years?" The miqo'te asked cheerfully, as if he was simply speaking of an interesting fact. A few of the pirates were beginning to unsheathe swords or axes, but the boy seemed plainly unperturbed. Indeed, it was the captain who was turning pale. Neni reached into her boot, eyes locking onto one of the pirates who was closest to M'rhi, an axe in his hands... his back was turned to her...

   "Look, it may have slipped my mind a few times..."

   "If I were you, I would quickly go to the Gate and explain the situation." M’rhi was still smiling.

   Silence settled for a moment, before Captain Blauwyrnm began walking forward. Neni felt his massive hand grab her arm nearly jostling her knife into her ankle.

   "Just you and your crew are needed, Captain Blauwyrnm," M'rhi spoke.

   Blauwyrnm stood still, staring down at the miqo'te boy.

   "I'm not against doing this the painful way, if you were wondering," M'rhi said with the same happy tone, echoing Blauwyrnm's own words with a smug grin.

   Neni felt Blauwyrnm's hand release her. "C'mon then. To the gate!" He barked at the other pirates as he stomped away. The other pirates cast glares at M'rhi and Neni but obediently followed their captain.

   She quickly ran over to M'rhi, setting the basket down and placing her hands on his shoulders. "Rhi, what were you thinking? They could have hurt you!" She said, breathless as terrible 'what ifs' filled her mind. Her hands tightened slightly around his shoulders as her imagination conjured awful images. Too much blood.

   M'rhi stared at her for a brief second before turning his gaze down to the basket. "Oh! Cornbread!" He said as he reached down to snatch a loaf from the basket. He broke off a small bit and stuck it into his mouth, his ears perking and tail swishing while he took off another chunk.

   "Rhi, listen to me, those men could have k-" Neni's words were silenced by a chunk of cornbread M'rhi stuck into her mouth.

   "It's really good! I don't want to eat it down here though..." He said while taking her hand and tugging so that she would follow him. Neni bent down to pick her basket back up and allowed M'rhi to pull her to the Drowning Wench.

[quirkycoterie]

Honest Q&A: Round 2! Table

So I see you’re all back, ahem. Shall we begin?

 What would you say is your spirit animal? Not a favorite animal, but a spirit animal.

Sanagi: “Maybe… a bee? I help plants grow like they do.”

Aliiza: “Shark.”

Ami: “A kitten. Still adventurous and playful. Not ready to lounge about all day yet.”

Aqua: “A bookworm. It’s not the technical term and they don’t stick to books, but I am known to devour books in my own way. Oh… sorry. I was told not to explain my jokes because then they aren’t funny.”

Qatun: “Ocelot. Fierce and beautiful and independent.”

Everyone has a favorite food, but that’s not always what you go for when you are upset. Do you have a comfort food?

Sanagi: “Bubble chocolate.”

Aliiza: “Alligator.”

Ami: “Steak and baked popoto.”

Aqua: “Bacon bread, I guess? It’s what… some call a guilty pleasure I think?”

Qatun: “Raw oysters. The way they slide down… amazing.”

  Some people drink to chase away bad memories. Others fight or find someone to sleep with. What’s your go to when you just don’t want to think about what just happened?

Sanagi: “A hot bath with a book.”

Aliiza: “Drink and drink and drink and drink and fight.”

Ami: “I write it out and purge it or go out and cross something off my list of adventures yet to have.”

Aqua: “I always want to think.”

Qatun: “My job but yeah… maybe a little sex thrown in.”

  What do you defend yourself with on instinct? Are you the type to rush forward with a fist? Do you always have a knife close at hand? If someone attacked us right now, what would you use?

Sanagi: “One of my offensive spells but I prefer to support others. I am looking into guns though. Training as a machinist is kind of fun.”

Aliiza: “Fists and feet.”

Ami: “These days, probably my bow.”

Aqua: “I have some poisons and other tinctures.”

Qatun: “Knives.”

  What’s your favorite pastime when alone and when you are with others?

Sanagi: “Harvesting when I’m by myself. I’m still figuring out what I like to do with others. My parents and I would play games sometimes.”

Aliiza: “Swimming. Drinking and fighting.”

Ami: “Anything new!”

Aqua: “Reading. Learning.”

Qatun: “Horseriding. A good dinner and conversation with an equal.”

  Dream vacation spot and/or activity?

Sanagi: “I would love to see the Sylphlands free of the tempered sylph, preferably via a cure.”

Aliiza: “Sailing or swimming.”

Ami: “Flying. It feels so very free. Falling is somewhat acceptable as well.”

Aqua: “A rebuilt Sharlayan.”

Qatun: “The plains.”

  On that note, how do you prefer to travel or get around this huge world we live in?

Sanagi: “Walking, so I can harvest along the way.”

Aliiza: “Sail.”

Ami: “Flying!”

Aqua: “Teleportation is the most expedient.”

Qatun: “Horseback when practical.”

  Do you have an element you most connect with? The world is filled with earth, and wind, and fire. The elementals are a huge focus in the Shroud. But what about with you?

Sanagi: “Oh, I don’t think I prefer a particular one. I mean, they are best when combined don’t you think?”

Aliiza: “Water I guess.”

Ami: “Wind.”

Aqua: “Earth. It has the most history and knowledge to display.”

Qatun: “Fire.”

  What is your favorite smell? I know, kind of a strange question, but it comes up more than you’d think.

Sanagi: “Trees after the rain.”

Aliiza: “The salt water on the air.”

Ami: “Oh, I love the way the air smells when charged with lightning.”

Aqua: “Old books.”

Qatun: “Sweat and horses.”

  How do you smell?

Sanagi: “Probably like my healing herbs and salves.”

Aliiza: “Salt and sweat.”

Ami: “Like vanilla. I like to use a little of it on my wrists and neck.”

Aqua: “With my nose.”

Qatun: “Like leather I suppose.”

  Who is your best friend?

Sanagi: “I don’t think I have one.”

Aliiza: “I’ve already told you, I don’t need friends.”

Ami: “I don’t really settle in one place too long so while I call many my friends, I don’t think I would be well suited to being a best friend.”

Aqua: “No one.”

Qatun: “Depends on who is paying for the experience.”

  If you had to settle down, what career would you pick?

Sanagi: “I would stick with botany and healing.”

Aliiza: “I’ll settle down when I’m dead.”

Ami: “Hahahaha. You have a filthy mouth.”

Aqua: “I believe as a researcher I am often already considered ‘settled down’.”

Qatun: “Madame.”

  How do you want to die?

Sanagi: “Peacefully in my sleep.”

Aliiza: “I plan to go down swinging.”

Ami: “Doing something amazing!”

Aqua: “I don’t want to die.”

Qatun: “In ecstasy.”

  If you only had a day left to live and can only do one thing before you die, what would it be and why?

Sanagi: “Write a letter to my friends and family saying goodbye and asking them to find good homes for my animals.”

Aliiza: “Bar fight.”

Ami: “Really, you are very mean spirited to suggest such a thing. Only one thing…. Hmmm…Do the biggest high dive I could find maybe? Or jump from an airship…”

Aqua: “Ensure my notes were legible and in the correct hands to have my research continued.”

Qatun: “Hire people to pamper me.”

What do you imagine the future to be like?

Sanagi: “Free of Garlean conquest.”

Aliiza: “I don’t know.”

Ami: “Marvelous!”

Aqua: “I expect great advancements, past even those lost by the Allagans.”

Qatun: “People will always be people so I imagine that society will remain very similar.”

[zanaakhabila]

Prompt #9: Keeping In Touch

FFXIV Write 2017 Prompt #9: LinkPearl

Characters: Eline

As the last client of the night left the Blushing Maiden, Eline watched them leave, and then her carefully crafted persona of shy paladin fell apart as she slumped into a barstool and tapped it to get the attention of the hyur behind the bar.

“Kugane sake, the bottle my sister gave me.  Set three up.”

A nod from the man behind the bar, and she almost crumpled in relief. It had been quite a busy day- three newbies and a pair of regulars had gone and put her through her paces, and honestly, she was looking forward to going home and taking a long, relaxing soak.  But first... it was Iceday.  With both of the twins off doing their own thing, and Zana still working long hours doing whatever she did at the Pakshee, she silently thanked the Twelve for the invention of linkpearls.  At least with them, she could reach out and say hello to her sisters or her mother whenever the mood struck her.

Tossing back her first drink, she activated her pearl and sent out a call to Rana.  Better to get this one out of the way, first... while Rana's cheer and happiness were easily contagious, sometimes... she just grated on the ears.

“Big sister Eline!  Yay, you called! How are you doing?  I'm just catching a drink at the Quicksand- though all these people here are looking at me, and I don't know why? I mean, I'm just wearing my field things, anyways...”

Eline paused to roll her eyes.  Rana's set of field things included a skirt so short one could almost see the curve of her rump if she sat down... and sitting down seemed to be her favorite position, when she wasn't waving her wand around and yelling “Kaboom!”  every time she let loose with a fire spell. It was just one of many things that drove her slightly insane- but she swore Rana was taking after her other big sister in learning how to tease people.

That gave her a thought.  Maybe Rana wasn't as dingy and idiotic as she seemed...

“Oh, sorry sis!  My new friends are wanting me to come and see something in their room!  I'll call you back later, bye bye!  Tell Zana I said hello and I have a few spares of mine when she wants to borrow them!”

With a giggle, Rana cut the connection and Eline was just there, shaking her head.  Yeah, there was always more to Rana than met the eye.  She'd have to drag her into the bedroom next time she was home to give her the talk- if she didn't have to drag her out of the Quicksand before they started charging her some kind of rent.

Tossing back the second dish of sake, she thumbed the pearl again, and sent a signal to Sheerah, who was currently studying her conjury in Gridania.  The pearl buzzed once, twice... three times... and just as she meant to go cut it, someone picked up.

“...oh.  What's up, biiig siiis?”

Oh, dear.  She'd forgotten about how Sheerah could get after a long day of work.  It sounded like she'd been hitting the rolanberry liquor quite hard again.

“...we lost another one today. Elementals wouldn't let us exercise our magic, and we had to watch her breathe out.  She had a damned family, Eli. I hate this godsdamned place and all these damned rules we have.  I want to come home to Ul'dah and find everyone and just relaaax... maybe I'll drop by Zana's place and surprise her buy buying some time with one of her friends.  She can pick me someone nice, I imagine.  ...look, I have another round or six coming, Eli... can I talk to you later?  When I'm sober?  I just can't deal right now...”

“Sure, Shee. Just-”

The connection clicked off before she could even finish, and Eline just sighed.  She really should try Sheerah in the morning, she imagined.  At least then, she could hold a conversation without the rolanberry liquor as a third party.

...she really ought to see if someone knew any other conjurers willing to train someone.  Sheerah had to get out of Gridania.  It always seemed to hit her hard, and apart from the neverending supply of liquor, well... Sheerah never did like Gridania.

Tossing back the final bowl of sake, she triggered the pearl again.  This time, to see what her wayward hyur sister was up to.  Zana kept odd hours, and it always seemed like she was somewhere odd on business.  ...maybe she'd surprise her one of these days, and see just what kind of crowd her sister seemed to hang with.  Perhaps if she took a sack of gil, she could call it business research, perhaps...

The pearl buzzed once.  Twice-

The sounds that came over the other end of the connection immediately elicited a deep, rich laugh from Eline's throat.  Yes, she'd done it again- managed to catch her sister at one of the best times.  It would be one more thing to needle Zana over when she came over for dinner tomorrow night.

A snarled bunch of cursing, and then the line cut out- and Eline simply sat there, chuckling and feeling the warmth of the sake cover her as she mentally counted to five... and then her pearl buzzed.

“...hmhmhm, Zanmarie Redwyne, you little sinner, you!  How many times does this make, seven?”

“...ten, Elinederia Aroemnya.  Ten times.  What do you need?”

“Oh, nothing... just catching you in the act is amazing enough.  Dinner is at seven bells tomorrow night. I'm working on getting Sheerah and Rana there, too.  I'm making my roasted dodo breast with popotoes and carrots.  Bring your appetite and leave the knives at the Pakshee, hm?”

A muffled rustling from the other end, and the line suddenly clicked off as she recognized the sound of a moan coming from her sister.  She knew it was ten times- but she loved poking her sister about it.

Lowering her hand, she sighed, a smile covering her face.  Linkpearls made it so they were almost all in the same room with each other, and considering a family so far-flung as the Akhabilas, it was completely worth it.

Standing and waving to the tender, Eline grinned again, already dreaming of the soak that would await her as she strode out to take the aetheryte home.

[arthachbroin]

// malachite, tea orange, crimson mallow, cadmium yellow

copic color headcanons | accepting

malachite: has your muse ever done anything that they winded up feeling incredibly guilty for in the end?

Well...it wasn’t her fault, not really, but she will ever blame herself for the lab accident that caused her to lose her baby. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, the accident, but she still thinks it’s hers and probably won’t ever stop blaming herself for it.

tea orange: what is something that your muse is fascinated with?

Besides botany and plantlife in general, she’s incredibly fascinated with seedkin in general--- the general concept of, living sentient plants, is just...very interesting to her. She’s a tiny bit uncertain about it now that she knows her unsundered self was connected to them, but...it’s still something she loves, so she won’t think about it too hard.

crimson: how passionate is your muse about the things they love most

Very. It’s to the point of obsession, a little; most of her life she never had anyone close to her at all besides her brother, and after he died she had no one, so...she threw herself into her interests and passions to fill the emptiness in her life. Even now that she has friends and people who care about her and who she cares about, it’s still a bit of an obsession, her interests. She is genuinely passionate about them, though.

mallow: what sorts of things might remind your muse of those close to them? any scents, objects, sounds?

Deer, soft lullabies, daffodils, the smell of popoto stew, old books and tea and the soft glow of a faerie, korpokkur and black coffee and the smell of wet grass, and....

And the sound of waves, the smell of the sea and petrichor and the soft scent of dust and dead things long forgotten, the crunch of dead leaves underfoot, shadows beneath trees and terribly sad smiles, the snapping of fingers and the mournful song of dragons grieving.

cadmium yellow: what subjects or topics does your muse avoid, because they bring up harmful / painful memories?

Sometimes she can’t bear to talk about babies or children or motherhood, but only sometimes; when she’s feeling especially melancholy.

In general, though, she tries not to talk about the War much, or Igeyorhm at all. She wants to avoid those topics as much as she possibly can. She also can’t really bear to talk about her brother much.