#wol has a no good terrible day

[shroudcryptid]

FFXIVWrite Day 27- Memory

They track the white-robed Ascian north, through the winding old mining tunnels, and out into the smog-drenched valley. Their nose begins to runs and their eyes burn, but still they press on. This is little, after all, compared to the smoke and fire of the Praetorium- or even Carteneau. 

They slow for a moment, hearing phantom screams, and then take a breath- and immediately regret it, coughing at the smell of fouled eggs. It hadn’t been a problem last time, but… Ah. Perhaps they should have listened more to the Chirurgeon, about how their airways were not yet fully healed from said smoke and fire.  

Rough rock meets their hand, and then their arm, as they lean heavily against it, chest contracting in wheezes. This… this was not the time to falter, they tell themself. Their prey lies just ahead, and the vicinity of an Ascian is no place to show vulnerability…. Hand trembling, they fumble for their pocket, where a soul stone of soft white whispers to them. 

A hand companionably pats them on the back, and they startle, although all it does is sent them further into shallow gasps, dropping to one knee this time. Their breath won’t fill their chest, won’t bring relief, and a seed of animal panic begins to sprout. 

In the state they’re in, they don’t register the hand returning, resting between their shoulder blades. What does grab them, though, is the cooling, shady stream of aether trickling from it, flowing through their chest and- 

The next breath they gasp in is deep, and- they can breathe. 

Starving, desperate, they pant heavily. It’s not long before another cough takes them- this time, resulting in an expulsion of mucous, dark with old blood. 

The healing continues throughout, and at last the heaving of their chest slows, calms, along with the pounding of their heart. 

They groan softly, and shift to stand, accepting the hand that pulls them upwards. And then, they realize the texture of metal claws interlaced with their fingers. silky gloves against their palm. 

It’s most definitely amusement, that smirk beneath the Ascian’s mask. The flavor of amusement that the rich, the removed from daily need would have, as they watched the desperate club each other with metal and wood upon the bloodsands. 

Hissing roughly, they yank their hand back, in their haste catching their skin upon sharp edges, leaving streaks of blood as with the other hand, they lash out. Their strike wobbles through thin air as the form twists and vanishes, equally rippling back into the world a bare malm away. 

The Ascian is clearly enjoying itself, they note as they wobble and stumble, having expected a fleshlike resistance, as with Lahabrea or his lesser peons. A white robed sleeve is raised to its mouth in a simulation of polite laugh muffling. It’s a far cry from the retaliation against Minfilia earlier. 

“Come, now.” It says, congenially. “Ah- perhaps you would like another hand, Warrior of Light?” 

Effective the Ascian’s healing may have been, but they’re already feeling the lack of the steadying coolness, the smog burning their throat and chest. . 

With effort, and the relentless pounding in their head only growing, they gather their feet under them, and lunge again. They catch the Ascian midsentence, and their swipe that would have bisected an ashkin- it doesn’t fully connect, but instead of empty air- it’s like running a hand through water. If water was dark, dark, like a new moon night.

They crash into the rocky wall shoulder-first, the leather pads taking most of the force, but twinges of recoil pain still jolting through them. Their hand comes up to slap at the wall, to brace for balance, and to their distant surprise, the wall itself hurts, as their hand leaves bloody streaks. 

And, as if the world itself were conspiring against them, that’s when their vision ripples, in what they now know to be the echo. The ringing in their ears spikes, and then quiets as the vision takes them.

Or, at least, the vision is what they expect. What they get is- static. Static, static, stabbing their eyes, crackling in their ears. Blurred, faded shapes when they concentrate, when they reach- something deep, dark beyond belief, immense beyond understanding. Hungering, wanting to hold everything safe within itself. Safe from the fire- and oh, they see that. The fire, the flames eating away at the most beautiful of cities, just as the monsters ate at the screaming people in its streets. 

There’s a man there, pale robes shining with wretched firelight, one splash of shadowed moonlight in a room full of desperate shadows. Splotches of red on their masks, and as they try to focus the blurry vision, to see, the pale one reaches up and, with both hands, takes off his mask. Revealing- they can’t see details. Not the color of his hair, his eyes, nor his skin. 

What they can see is that it’s a he, a young man. And that firm resolve is writ in every ilm of his face.

The vision blurs at the edges, before they’re thrown from it. They come back to themselves, the wretchedness of their chest and aching lungs, and an odd trickle of wet at their nose. Oh, and the Ascian kneeling over them. 

Over them? Oh. Yes. They’re on the ground. And the Ascian is there. Woozily, they blink up at what they’d now call a him. 

“-strong is your gift, I wonder.” He’s saying. “Just what did you see, for the cost to be so high....”  With the back of a folded talon, he reaches down, draws it through the wetness now dripping over their lips. For a moment, their woozy eyes slip through focus, and they see how it comes away red.

They still lurch forward and, with open jaw, catch and crunch down upon where the meat of a hand should be. 

For a moment, or an eternity- one of those, either of those. There’s stillness. And then a distant, yet genuine laugh. 

“Very well. If you volunteer.” The words are more wobbly than before, as if their echo has grown tired, strained itself. And then, the mate to the hand between their teeth comes up to their forehead. Aether pulses from it, catches them in a twisting snare they’re in no shape to resist. And then peacefully, gently, pulls them down into sleep. 

[eorzea80]

G'raha on G'thoma

Among the texts G'raha acquired in his long tenure in the Crystal Tower, those that served both as ominous portent and beloved bedtime story, G'thoma Tia was little more than a footnote. The pivot upon which Hydaelyn's fate only lightly turned. The man who made the Warrior of Light…a Dragoon, I guess. He wandered into her bar one night and at that moment, fate diverged. (Which, as G'raha drolly observed, thumbing through the pages, it does with alarming frequency when it has anything to do with his work.)

But Thom was not more than anecdata in the Warrior of Lights' journey, according to the history books. A spouse who was tragically lost on the Fields of Cartenau. Beyond that, the library of The Crystarium was mute.

But now, through another quirk of Hydaelyn's mercy, G'raha knows better.

He has his suspicions that Thom carries a heavier fate, pulling it in his wake like a tender ship. He feels a similar pull when that rogue Ascian darkens his door. He remembers the sheer weight of Pryne's presence; the sensation that she carried the fate of stars on her shoulders, along with her very recent grief.

Now, watching Thom grin in the dim morning light, carrying their customary basket of Musicalis bagels and coffee up to the Tower, G'raha heart can't help but burst for this forgotten hero. This man whose immeasurable contributions will go unsung, just as his will be, if all goes to plan. This man who G'raha loves with all the strength left him, as if he could deliver Pryne's longing across the sundered universe.

If he could write the ending of his own story, G'raha would wish for family, this family. For Pryne and Thom to bring him back to The Source and shelter him in their embrace. But that cannot happen. In order to preserve the balance of life, he will need to sacrifice. He will sacrifice Thom. He will sacrifice their steadfast desire for each other, across the rift. And he will sacrifice his love for them both.

All to rescue the only hero he knows who can save all worlds.

"Raha, you ok? You haven't chewed your food in…uh, about a minute?"

The bread has turned to ash in his mouth. With great effort, G'raha musters the energy to swallow.

"I'm fine. Mind's wandering, is all."

[picaroroboto]

For the past couple days, I've been unfortunately cursed with thinking about Zenos yae Galvus. I don't even particularly like him - not that I dislike him either, Zenosfuckers you can put your scythes down - but it seems to me like a lot of the fandom either greatly misunderstands him, or doesn't even care to try to understand him, which from an objective standpoint as someone who cares deeply about writing in video games kind of pisses me off. But I'm more pissed about the fact that I'm apparently going to keep thinking about this issue until I actually write a character analysis of him.

Q: "But, what even is there to analyze with him? Isn't he all about wanting to fight the WoL and nothing else?"

Well, you wouldn't be wrong with saying that. That motivation is at the forefront of his character, and even if you look closer, everything about him comes back to either "violence" or "lack of understanding of others". But there are more meaningful sides to his deceptively simple character. That question of meaning is what I really want to look into - what does his character mean, what symbolic or thematic role does he play in this story?

Q: "Better question: why are you posting this on your art blog/Fate meta sideblog?"

Good question, with a stupid answer: I have all of 6 followers on my FF14 sideblog, and around 150 here. Let's go under the cut so they don't have to read a wall of text, unless they want to.

When you look at and compare FF14's villains, you can see a very clear change, no doubts thanks to the change in main writers. ARR Gaius and Thordan are more or less two-bit villains - Gaius's memeable iconic Praetorium speech gives us insight into how fascists try to justify themselves but little into Gaius's actual personality, while all Thordan gets as far as depth of character is an NPC in a sidequest remarking that he wasn't always a bad person and was probably doing what he thought best for his nation. Nidhogg is a little more understandable, since revenge is a relatable motivation to anyone who's been hurt by others. In Stormblood, Zenos and Yotsuyu are both presented as deserving of pity even as they do terrible things. Come Shadowbringers and Endwalker though, the story takes a greater interest on why villains like Emet-Selch and Elidibus do the things they do, and the player is allowed more options to try to understand them and see how similar they are to the WoL. Hell, Hermes and the Endsinger are barely "villains" at all, with the level of sympathy the story shows them.

What I'm getting to here is that Zenos, with half his arc in Stormblood and the rest in Endwalker, is sort of caught in the middle of this shift. He played the role of the rival character in Stormblood really well, but come Endwalker, he's standing on a stage full of heroes and villains with grand causes and deep motivations, as the guy whose sole motivation is fighting for pleasure.

It seems he's not unaware of this contrast himself - when Jullus confronts him for ruining Garlemald for no good reason, he retorts with "Would you be happier had I a good reason?" Zenos makes no attempt to justify his own actions and doesn't care that his reason seems incomprehensible and unforgivable to others. Yet in that same cutscene Alisaie hits him with the fact that if he keeps living solely for pleasure, he'll die alone. When next we see Zenos, he's alone at the Royal Menagerie waxing philosophical about what he really sought in the battle with the WoL.

See, what really motivates Zenos isn't just the thrill of battle - this guy has gotten Battle High and the joy of human connection confused. Really.

Even before he gets so perturbed by the idea of dying alone, there's other suggestions, like his proposal of friendship to the WoL when they fought in Stormblood, and then later his dying words in which he explains that he never understood others - at his core, he's just lonely. I know there's an official side story that tells it, but you don't need to know the exact details to glean that he had some sort of tragic backstory. Sad, but not a surprise, considering he's the prince of the Garlean Empire, raised to take the throne and continue the Empire's legacy of violence.

At his core, he's a very lonely person, but also a thing of violence, raised using violent methods for the purpose of causing more violence. Violence is how he lives and breathes - the only way he gets any sort of connection with others in a world of hurting and being hurt is the brief connection warriors dueling as equals can sometimes find. Don't deny that this sort of connection exists - FF14 is great at making fights that are both fun and tell a story. Hence, why he goes crazy for the WoL, but also refers to them as "friend". In their fights, he senses (or thinks he senses) similarity between him and them. Beneath all the madness is a pure, genuine joy in seeing the self reflected in the other...but he also instantly gets on the train to projection-town, population Zenos, and assumes the WoL is exactly like him, ignoring or failing to notice that they also fight for deeper meanings. The worst part is, he doesn't even notice that what he's actually seeking in fighting them is connection until Alisaie's aforementioned callout.

So he goes and angsts for a while, then turns into a dragon again and flies across the universe to help us kick the Endsinger's tail feathers, then issues his challenge for that duel he'd been longing for. But what's changed is that he starts with a question - "Such pleasures you sought for their own sake, and for no other reason, is that not so?". Dying after the duel, he's full of questions too: "Was your life a gift or a burden? Did you find fulfillment?" Alisaie's suggestion that he'd die alone actually spurred him to realize what he actually sought in the WoL, and now he's asking all these questions in an attempt to, for the first time in his life, genuinely connect with another human being.

The questions aren't important just because they're a sign of how Zenos has changed in Endwalker - they're actually the thematic heart of Endwalker! ARR may have had "Answers" as it's theme, but EW is the expac of questions. Namely the biggest question of all: What is the meaning of life? Different characters have different answers to that, leading to the grand-scale symbolic conflict being the Endsinger's despair - her belief that there is no meaning in life - versus whatever reasons the WoL chooses to live for, left, as always, up to player interpretation.

When you look deeper, Zenos isn't actually as out-of-place in the symbolic conflict as he first seems. His depressed worldview - that metaphor about drowning in a swamp again - seems to align with the Endsinger's view about life being meaningless. But he aids the WoL in defeating her. In that way he serves as part of the answer to her question about the meaning of life. He may have resented life at times, but he still found meaning in chasing pleasure. Not the strongest or most beautiful reason to deny oblivion, perhaps, but it did enable him to help the WoL triumph. I think of Zenos's philosophy as being connected to the concept of "Amor Fati"...largely because this quote explaining it sounds like something he'd say, or at least agree with on some level:

"and if our soul has trembled with happiness and sounded like a harp string just once, all eternity was needed to produce this one event—and in this single moment of affirmation all eternity was called good, redeemed, justified, and affirmed."

So he does have a meaningful role in Endwalker, as the "Amor Fati" against the Endsinger's "Memento Mori". I think that in this the story shows that his reason for living, while somewhat shallow, is not necessarily a morally wrong thing in and of itself (setting aside for a second all the people he hurt in his pursuit of that). It's just that, since it is a lonely pursuit that denies everything except for his target, it still feels empty. The core of the counterargument against the Endsinger's despair is that both pleasure and fulfillment are necessary to live a meaningful life in a meaningless universe, and that's why Zenos is here in Endwalker. Why he even exists in the story in the first place.

Even if you're one of the people who deeply hates Zenos...well, you probably wouldn't have read this whole thing if you did, but I still think it's important to read into characters you dislike, because every character in a story is written for a reason. Plus, trying to understand even their worst enemies is one of the WoL's key traits as of ShB and EW. With his last breaths, Zenos was trying to understand the WoL too - carrying this understanding of him with you as we move into our next adventures is the least you can do for your "friend".

[viiioca]

Estelle de Laussienne

B A S I C S

Name Estelle de Laussienne (born Fauconnier)

Nicknames None in regular use; her adoptive brother uses "Essie" to get under her skin.

Age 24 (ARR) - 30 (Dawntrail)

Nameday 17th Sun of the 5th Astral Moon

Race Half Sea Wolf Roegadyn / Half Midlander Hyur

Gender Cis female

Orientation Bisexual

Profession Chirurgeon. She's a woman of many roles and skills, but only one professional license, though in another life -- say, in a non-WOL AU -- she might have wound up the Scions' "diplomatic advisor" (crisis manager and fixer).

P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S

Hair Black; as of the end of Shadowbringers, salt-and-pepper with a shock of white in her bangs. Coarse curls are courtesy of her roegadyn heritage. She has never cut her hair ("long hair is a woman's glory" and all -- have you seen Halone's? You cannot convince me there's nothing in Halonic scripture about it) and mostly wears it pinned in complex updos.

Eyes A dark violet, inherited from her father.

Skin A light, rainy-day grey inherited largely from her mother, with her father's cool pink undertones.

Tattoos/scars Being a healer -- and a terrible patient -- Estelle has few scars of her own, as she takes care of her own injuries and prides herself in the sort of detailwork in her physicking that reduces or prevents scarring. Which means the ones she does have are from the wounds she was too incapacitated to heal herself, gnarly clusters of keloids and ragged hypertrophic slashes from effective but graceless emergency healing: sternum to hip from the fight with Elidibus at Ghimlyt; side to side across her belly from the fight with Zenos at the end of creation; and her oldest, a mottled burn scar around her left shoulder and collarbone from the dragon attack that took her parents. She keeps them glamoured when able and looks at them as little as possible.

F A M I L Y

Parents

Hermine Fauconnier Her roegadyn mother; the seneschal and right hand woman of House Laussienne, Hermine was in charge of its books, employees, and trade logistics, and her service in return won her family as stable, secure, and comfortable a lifestyle as a lowborn could wish for outside of the Church. Deceased.

Renaut Fauconnier Her hyuran father; a chirurgeon formerly of the Hospitaliers who transitioned into rural medicine as a traveling physician once he tired of the battlefield. Deceased.

Perette de Laussienne Her adoptive elezen mother; the head of House Laussienne and a shark in the waters of Ishgard's nobility who raised Estelle like she was her own daughter. For better or worse, Perette taught her much of what she knows. Deceased.

Siblings

Verain de Laussienne Estelle's adoptive brother. While they had a good relationship in their youth, a wedge formed not long into their teenage years when it became clear his mother's favor rested with a lowborn halfbreed. Still alive and currently head of House Laussienne, having been unceremoniously handed the reins when Estelle suddenly left Ishgard -- a fact that has done nothing to repair the rift between them.

Grandparents

None still living.

In-laws and Other

Over time, Estelle develops no shortage of family-like relations: Edmont, who regards her as a daughter; Alphinaud and Alisaie and Ryne, the little siblings she never had; the Scions, living together like a colony of stray cats. (And, though this is quite far in the future and something she would not want to think too much about even then, Lyna would technically be her daughter-in-law. The absolute dawning horror the first time Lyna calls her "grandmother" as a jest.)

Pets

Animals tend to like Estelle more than Estelle likes the concept of caring for an animal long-term, especially with how much she travels. The absolute closest she comes to owning a pet is spoiling the Rising Stones' resident ratcatchers.

S K I L L S

Abilities

Arcanima The cornerstone of her combat abilities and field "healing" (more like Preventative Medicine), which branches out into Allagan summoning as she spends the years between Heavensward and Dawntrail refining equations based on primal waveforms.

Medicine This includes everything in the typical Eorzean chirurgeon's skillset -- everything from general practice to surgery to autopsy is on the table (hah) -- as well as an alchemical background to synthesize and administer basic pharmacological treatments.

"Politics" The catch-all umbrella for her social skillset, Estelle relishes the networking, information gathering, and strategic maneuvering required to throw one's weight around in powerful circles.

Hobbies

Languages Though the Echo translates for her, it's still a rare and special skill regarded with suspicion in most corners of the world. Estelle enjoys picking up what she can of the local language in her travels to put people more at ease, especially as she wanders out to more rural locations.

Sketching/watercolors A skill picked up in a previous relationship, though her fondness for it far outlived her fondness for her lover. She finds it relaxing to draw and paint the sights in her travels, and she keeps extensive journals.

Cooking A domestic skill cultivated to a high level in the interest of being a "good wife" in her youth, turned into something of an obsession for learning new foods and techniques as she travels the world. Estelle delights in any occasion she has access to a stove and the opportunity to set a lively table.

Piano All young ladies of good breeding learn the arts during their education, and Estelle is no exception, though the piano is the only instrument that stuck. She enjoys playing when she finds the time, and a piano to actually play on.

"New skills" Estelle takes any opportunity to throw herself into doing something badly for the simple joy of trying something new. Most attempts to train for more physical skills like archery and swordplay fall under this category: things she'll likely never take seriously, but she enjoys using these moments to build new connections and relationships with her teachers.

T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: Her friendliness. Estelle finds it natural to move into the lives of others and share their spaces, joys, grief, and problems; if she doesn't find success, it certainly isn't for a cold demeanor and lack of goodwill.

Most Negative Trait: Oh we've got a whole answer for this one. There is only so much friendliness can accomplish when Estelle does not accept the vulnerability of real connection.

L I K E S

Colors: Contrary to her severely black and mostly monochrome wardrobe, Estelle most enjoys dramatic, rich jewel tones and soft pastels.

Smells: The complex layers of an expensive, well-made perfume; fresh-cut jonquils; the chaos of food stalls in an open-air market; aspen woods in a crisp, fresh snow

Textures: Soft furs; the inner lining of a favorite pair of gloves; the smooth gloss of lacquered wood; the weighted feedback of ivory piano keys.

Drinks: A glass of well-aged dry red wine; coffee in the Ul'dahn style, unfiltered and highly sweetened, flavored with cardamom; Ishgardian tea, strong black leaves dressed with bergamot, steeped directly in hot milk and sweetened with buckwheat honey.

O T H E R D E T A I L S

Smokes: Yes, infrequently, and never socially; in times of high stress, she will smoke exactly one (1) cigarette when alone and thinking very deeply on something she wish she did not have to think deeply about, or when she needs to aggressively work over a problem in her mind. She's picky about her tobacco and prefers a Hannish clove-spiced blend. (Her case holds 20 cigarettes and the only time she's had to refill it because she's simply run out is during Endwalker.)

Drinks: Yes! All the time. I imagine Ishgard has a very robust drinking culture woven into most social rituals (alcohol features more prominently in Heavensward than nearly any other expansion except perhaps Endwalker) and Estelle is a very social creature. Of course there's an aperitif! And of course there is a glass or two of wine with dinner. And of course there must be a digestif. And of course there will be a nightcap as the evening winds down. She likely consumes more alcohol in a year than the rest of the Scions combined, and that includes that era where Thancred was getting trashed regularly to avoid coping with the Lahabrea situation. That said, she very rarely drinks alone, and almost never drinks with the intention to get inebriated.

Drugs: Nothing hard, but if someone hands her a bhang thandai during a festival in Radz-at-Han she's not going to turn it down.

Mount Issuance: For the same reasons Estelle doesn't keep a pet, she also doesn't keep a mount; she prefers to take carriages and ferries and airships, ride along with caravans, or rent chocobos. When she needs a pair of wings or to go somewhere she would feel guilty bringing a live animal, she relies on the sliver of his aether that Midgardsormr left with her to summon his form much the same way she might summon an egi.

Been Arrested: Estelle has spent most of her life being a law-abiding citizen. The amount of laws she's broken in the line of duty has spiked rather dramatically since joining the Scions, of course, as it turns out that subversive operations and overthrowing heads of state is illegal in those states, but good luck arresting her.

thank you for the tags @oneiroy, @ubejamjar, @ahollowgrave, and @idalenn!! i actually did a tag thing this time i did it i did the thing i was tagged to do

tagging……..@astralflows @menphinaswhitemage @archaiclumina @yloiseconeillants @rhotdornn @angelinecarax @fairygodpiggy @ilbers @mostlystarsandcandybars @caorann8 @morgana96 -- and anyone who hasn't been tagged yet!! i wanna read your lore

[vodika-vibes]

What I Wish I Knew

Summary: When Master Yoda makes it a requirement for all Jedi Knights to take a Padawan, it means a lot of very young children end up on the front lines of a war. Plo Koon ends up with an eleven year old padawan, and he turns to Commander Wolffe to explain the realities of their situation to her.

Characters: Commander Wolffe, Plo Koon, Young F!Padawan Reader (all platonic)

Word Count: 761

Warnings: Wolffe has a heavy conversation with the reader

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Is a lot of what Wolffe says pulled directly from this song, yes. Yes it is. But it works.

“Commander,” General Koon walks over to him, a pensive look on his face, “I’m glad to see you. I was hoping to get your advice on something.”

“My advice, General?” Wolffe is, understandably, confused at the very idea, “I’m happy to help, of course. But I’m not sure what kind of advice I can give you that you don’t already know.”

“It’s always important to get multiple opinions.” General Koon says lightly, “And this is a matter that you might be better equipped at dealing with than myself.”

“Alright,” Wolffe replies slowly, “Go ahead.”

“You might have noticed,” General Koon starts slowly, thoughtfully, “That my Padawan is very…young.”

That might very well be the understatement of the century. She’s hardly the youngest of the new Jedi Commanders, that particular honor lies at Cody’s feet, who has an 8 year old Jedi Commander and it bothers him a lot.

“She’s not terribly young, sir.” Wolffe says awkwardly.

General Koon chuckles, “True. She’s at least old enough to be a Padawan on her own merits, but she is still very young, Commander. Too young for War. Too young to understand the realities, I think.”

“General, what are you asking me to do?”

“Talk to her. Help her understand.”

“Shouldn’t that be your job?” Wolffe asks.

“I think the lesson will stick better coming from you.” General Koon replies quietly, “Can you do this?”

Wolffe sighs and rubs the back of his neck, “Yeah. Yeah, alright. Just…send her to my office when she finishes with her lessons for the day.”

“Of course…and, Commander, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Wolffe remains standing there as General Koon walks away, and then he sighs.

Great. How do you explain war to a Cadet who actually has to take part in it? His training did not cover this.

With that thought in mind, he turns on his heels and heads towards his quarters. Hopefully the short walk will make the words magically appear. He’s not hopeful, though. Odds are he’s going to be winging it.

Half an hour later, there’s a knock on his door, and then it slides open, and a small face peeks in.

She’s…young.

So young.

Too young.

Her hair is tied in twin tails. Twin tails that she needs help putting up still. And her face is still rounded with baby fat.

Wolffe knows, logically, that she’s inching towards puberty. He knows human biology after all, but he can’t help but look at her and see a cadet rather than a jedi.

“Master said that you wanted to see me, Wol-...um, Commander.” She asks as she steps into the room and shuts the door behind her, “Did I do something wrong?”

Wolffe opens his mouth, and the words start coming, “I was younger than you are now, when I was given my first command.” He says, and she turns wide, baffled eyes towards his face, “I led my men into a massacre, I witnessed their deaths first hand.”

Her hands curl around her robes…robes that are too big for her.

“I made every mistake.” Wolffe continues as he stares at her, “And even now, to this day, I lie awake knowing that history has its eyes on me.”

“Why are you telling me this?” She asks, her voice wavering slightly, her eyes even wider.

Good. She understands.

Wolffe circles his desk and kneels in front of her, “Let me tell you what I wish I knew, what I wish someone had told me.” He sets his hands on her shoulders. She’s so small, too small. “You have no control over who lives, who dies, or who tells your story at the end.”

She sniffles and her wide eyes fill with tears. 

Wolffe smiles, and tugs her into a light hug, “I know that we can win.” He says quietly, “I know that greatness lies in you. But you have to remember, from here on out, that history has its eyes on you.”

She hastily wipes her eyes, and she blinks up at him with eyes that are a little more haunted than they were moments earlier. A little less innocent. “...Yes Commander, I think I understand.”

“Good girl.”

She offers him a quick bow, and then she scurries out of the room, and Wolffe leans against his desk. Only time will tell how this chat went, but, hopefully, he got through to her.

Hopefully she’ll understand what he meant.

Hopefully General Koon won’t be too mad about what he just taught her.

His head tilts back, history has its eyes on you indeed.

[driftward]

Sorry ;)

19) getting turned on by their partner’s new uniform for work and then roleplaying a bit

Don't apologise, I'm delighted. Thank you for the ask, and I appreciate your patience in waiting for an answer. Answer beneath the cut.

(WoL or GA timeline, works in either, maybe in both)

~*~

Y’shtola looked herself carefully in the mirror as she made final adjustments to the glasses she now wore.

In appearance, they were quite plain. A pair of glasses of moderately thick rim, in a classical style. In actuality, they were quite sophisticated, made exactingly for her needs. The lenses were based on a starlens, meant to amplify distant aether, and the frame was so thick for the metals it had to contain, in order to maintain the enchantments that had been worked into it.

They were meant as an aid to Y’shtola’s aethersight. The use of a starlens was Zoissette’s idea, and she had initially made just such a hand lens for Y’shtola to use during their study hours in Nuomenon. The glasses were also Zoissette’s design, meant to help Y’shtola in her latest pursuit. Acting as head archivist for the nascent library that Koana wished to have built in Tural. A personal favor Zoissette had asked, and something to do between stints researching the gate to Alexandria.

She frowned at herself, looking through her new glasses at herself in the mirror, but decided that was the best she was going to manage. She smoothed down the front of her outfit, a simple buttoned up blouse, a skirt that went to her knees, a sensible pair of pumps she could stand in all day, and some stockings. An outfit that was elegant in its simplicity, and one which she could comfortably wear all day while making her way through the stacks. The skirt may have been a bit impractical, but she liked its cut too much to go without. She slipped a cardigan over to complete the look, and wandered back out into the living area.

Zoissette was waiting for her, sitting on the couch, eager to see her.

“How do you like them?”

“I will be able to tell you more after a day or so of using them. For now, I will say, it is as much as you anticipated. Useful for reading and small, fine work. But not good for general use. The view distance of my aethersight is even shallower than before, and everything has a terrible halo around it. I have well grown used to the world as seen through aethersight, but these, well.”

“Well, they are meant for close up work to help you read more than anything. I would advise… not, uhm. Wearing them. Otherwise.”

Y’shtola looked over at Zoissette, and saw the swimmy, starry expanse of her aether, the individual lights that she was shining all the brighter for the faint halos around them. As beautiful as the sight was, especially in the waviness of the rest of what she could see, that did not help her just now, so she lifted the glasses up and focused her aethersight to see the world more like most people did.

And as the colors settled and turned to true, and details came into focus, she saw Zoissette, seated, biting her lip a little, and her eyes a touch too wide open, a touch too focused.

She allowed herself a small little laugh.

“Enjoying the view?”

“…maybe.”

“And here I thought this outfit somewhat conservative.”

“And the glasses.”

“And the glasses? I would have thought their rims rather thick and unwieldy to truly be alluring. Certainly, not as sophisticated as I might like…”

“Right. Yes. Of course.”

Zoissette swallowed, and smiled at her. One of the real smiles. Oh, the things she would do for those rare real smiles.

“Do they not make me appear older?”

“No? Not really? Those ones in specific I think, well. Neither older nor younger. More authoritative, maybe.”

Zoissette had her feet tucked under her, and was gripping the side of her chair. Y’shtola raised an eyebrow, and then, with deliberate slowness, sauntered over.

Zoissette just stared, transfixed. The woman was tall, but seated while Y’shtola was standing gave Y’shtola just the tiniest bit of advantage, Zoissette’s gaze at about her bust line. An advantage which she now fully utilized, as she moved to gently nudge her knee against Zoissette. Zoissette sat back a little, spreading her knees apart, enough for Y’shtola to lean forward, and plant her knee on the seat.

“Maybe you could, uhm, help me look-” said Zoissette, who finally actually looked up to meet Y’shtola’s eyes, “- something up.”

“Oh?” said Y’shtola, her tail swishing back and forth behind her. She arched her back a little, to press her chest forward prominently, and she angled her head to look down her nose at Zoissette, whose face was beginning to turn quite red. More importantly, so were the tips of her ears, a sure and familiar tell.  “And I suppose my eager little student would like to review the pertinent appendices?”

Zoissette bit her lip, trying not to laugh, and rocked back and forth in the chair a bit. “Well, I thought about maybe spending some time in the stacks. I hear the selection here is extremely well rounded, and I would love to delve in.”

They held their gaze for a moment, and then, Zoissette broke, looking down, tittering slightly. “Sorry. Sorry. This is very silly. I feel very silly. That outfit is really -”

She stopped as Y’shtola grabbed her jaw with one hand, fingers and thumbs pressing on her cheeks, making her mouth pucker just a little. She pulled her face back up, Zoissette going willingly with the motion, until their gazes locked one more.

Y’shtola narrowed her eyes. Still looking down her nose. She tilted her head just the tiniest bit, as though intrigued by this specimen that had wandered into her ‘library’. And then she rolled her head back and forth slowly, as though inspecting said specimen, carefully looking it over. And as she did so, Zoissette began to fidget. Her hands still gripping the sides of her seat, even as she drummed her fingers. Her breathing becoming shallow. Her mouth beginning to tremble, Y’shtola feeling the vibration in her fingers. Her ears turning redder.

And still, Y’shtola was implacable. Just watching. She reached up with her other hand, and lowered her glasses. She would lose much, in the shift in sight, but it was worth it. Worth it to feel the shift in Zoissette as she did so. As she primly adjusted them onto her face. As she lowered her head, bringing her nose almost to Zoissette’s. As she moved her body closer. As she leaned against Zoissette, feeling her own heat reflected off Zoissette’s body mixed with the warmth Zoissette herself brought to the equation.

Once her glasses were settled the way she liked, she examined Zoissette again. Her aether, swimmy, waves of stars in an ocean of blue so deep it was almost black. Ripples and waves of who Zoissette was and all of her might and destinies.

She still held Zoissette’s jaw in her hand, though she relaxed it, just a bit. She did not want to harm Zoissette, did not want the press of her fingers to begin to ache. Just to remind her where she should be looking and who was in control here.

With her other hand, she reached up, slowly, and delicately took an ear between finger and thumb, and lightly drew along its edge, pinching every so slightly. Like running a thread through her fingers. Her vision may not have been clear or detailed, but her sense of touch was more than present, and she could feel Zoissette tremble against her body.

Slowly, she tilted her head, past Zoissette’s field of view, still holding on. As her hand trailed down from ear to neck to collarbone, from collarbone to swell of breast, from swell of breast to the firmness of stomach, she touched her lips to Zoissette’s ear, and ran her tongue slowly along them.

And she purred as Zoissette sucked in her breath.

She let go, now, and Zoissette tilted her head to the side, looking up, making more space for Y’shtola. Y’shtola resettled a bit, shifting around to get more comfortable. One hand against Zoissette’s side, to hold herself steady. Just a little bit of separation of their bodies, for just long enough for another hand to find the inside of the waistband of Zoissette’s pants, to explore further downward. One foot still on the ground, helping her hold her own weight and so she could move around as she pleased. And the knee that was on the seat slipped off, now, to lean against the front of the chair, arched foot touching toes to ground. She stuck her butt out a little further, her tail now curled back upon her, swaying in the air.

And the entire time, Zoissette’s breath had been quick, unsteady. She only attempted to lift her hands from the edge of the seat once, but a swat and she put them back, immediately understanding her part, role, and place in all this.

Steady once more, Y’shtola moved one hand to be on top of one of Zoissette’s hands, fingers on the outside of tight knuckles, and she leaned back just a little to look at Zoissette’s face once more.

“Now tell me,” she crooned. “What brings you here?” and as she said that, she slid two fingers in between Zoissette’s folds.

Zoissette spasmed, and threw back her head, and cried out. Y’shtola was quick on her, her free hand now back on Zoissette’s jaw, shifting her weight so she could stand.

“Behave,” she said. “We must maintain a certain level of decorum, should we not? Inside voice, if you please.”

Zoissette just sort-of nodded against Y’shtola’s hand, and whimpered.

“Good girl,” said Y’shtola, letting go, and she bent over to run a tongue along Zoissette’s ear while her fingers explored, finding Zoissette delightfully wet. Fingers slid up and down her slit, and she could feel the nub of Zoissette’s clit. A light touch of teeth to skin made Zoissette choke a gasp. The rubbing of two fingers on either side of her clit made her whimper, curling on herself, going tight to try to control herself, to not make a noise.

Well, not make too much noise. Her breathing was quite loud, and there was definitely a ‘nnnnnngh’ escaping from her.

Y’shtola continued, with an almost casualness to her. She pulled back from her ear, and leaned against her once more. She moved to be more on Zoissette’s side now, rather than in front of her, allowing herself easier movement inside of Zoissette’s smalls under her pants. Allowing her to look from head to toe, able to see the tension in the currents that were the aether that made up Zoissette. Able to reach with her other hand where she liked, and where she liked was Zoissette’s breast, kneading it with her fingers through Zoissette’s top.

“You are not very articulate,” she said. “Have I found what you were looking for?”

“Y-y-yes,” said Zoissette, her voice strained.

“Are you certain?” asked Y’shtola. “I might check elsewhere, if you remain unsatisfied.”

“N-no. I am - I am good.”

“Breath.”

Zoissette rocked back and forth in the chair, taking several deep gulping breaths. Y’shtola smiled wickedly to herself, as she placed a hand on Zoissette’s shoulder, and leaned close to an ear once more.

“And now,” she said, and she leaned, leaned forward, leaned in, and really bore down, her fingers alight, with carefully timed movement and lots of pressure.

Zoissette cried out, and as she did so, Y’shtola stuck her hand full in her mouth.

“Quiet in the library,” she said, cooly, calmly, as she continued her ministrations. Zoissette nodded dumbly, even as she whimpered against Y’shtola’s hand, drooling slightly. Her eyes clenched shut, and began to water from the exertion, from the effort, of trying to hold in, trying to hold back.

It was no use. Y’shtola well knew what she was doing now, and Zoissette’s body bucked. She bit down, hard, and Y’shtola resisted the urge to yelp herself. She had put herself at such risk, and she knew it. However, even her throes, Zoissette still had enough control to not fully bear down. And so she kept her hand in Zoissette’s mouth, letting her ride out the wave of her first orgasm.

“Breath,” she admonished again, and Zoissette nodded, before reaching up a hand and desperately tapping at Y’shtola’s arm.

Y’shtola pulled back immediately, retrieving her hand from Zoissette’s smalls and pulling her hand out of her mouth. Zoissette gasped, and pushed herself forward out of the chair, and fell to the floor on hands and knees, breathing hard.

“Oh gods. Oh Fury.”

“Are you alright?” said Y’shtola, mildly concerned, crouching next to her.

“Gods swive hells yes. That was intense. Oh hells. My stomach hurts from tensing. I just - I just need a moment. I just…”

Y’shtola nodded, and took off her glasses. She wanted to be able to see, now, and her more normal aethersight returned to her. She wrapped an arm around Zoissette, and rubbed her back as the woman continued to take several deep breaths, trembling.

“I think,” Zoissette said at last, “We have ruined my smalls.”

Y’shtola laughed.

“Oh gods you are a demon with your voice. I am going to be hearing that in my dreams.”

“Sweet ones, I hope.”

“Damning ones.”

Zoissette let herself down the rest of the way to the floor, and rolled over to her side, stopping to look at Y’shtola with open adoration, before rolling onto her back, her breathing still heavy.

“Are you certain you are quite alright? Normally we can go for quite longer.”

“Just intense. Also I do not think the chair agreed with me.”

“Duly noted.”

Zoissette stayed where she was, and Y’shtola settled into sit next to her, picking up a hand to hold it.

“So do I get to stay in the library, or…?” asked Zoissette, and Y’shtola laughed.

[captainqster]

Dawntrail thoughts below. Major spoilers of course

I'll start off by saying that I enjoyed it. Some of the cutscenes were so fun and DT managed to make me cry at the end. The most important thing for me is that the story have an emotional impact on me and this one did. Not as much as SHB or even EW, but that's to be expected given they were the final two expansions in an ongoing story.

ANYWAY I don't intend to rant too much so I'll just make some key points about what I remember (which is never much, I have a terrible memory).

The environments! I'm not one to veer off course during msq to explore the scenery but this time I was doing that constantly. I was in HEAVEN in the desert areas especially, as I live in the Sonoran desert but Thanalan and Ahm Araeng never did much for me. Urqopacha was just beautiful, I could afk there all day. Solution 9 is even more incredible than I'd dared to hope. And Tuliyollal...my goodness.

The worldbuilding. I enjoyed the time spent fleshing out these cultures and the 'why and when' of some of their traditions. Cooking the...what was it called...was fun, I come from a Hispanic family and cooking massive batches of food together was always a big part of get togethers, especially around the holidays (I am made to suffer the tamale assembly line every year). So I liked when you were made to understand the people and why they do what they do and the impact it has on their community bonds.

The duties. Really liked those as well. Can I remember anything? No. Do I have a lingering feeling of "that was new" leftover? Yes.

The NPCs. New cast! Somehow I didn't anticipate the turnaround of both Zoraal Ja and Bakool Ja Ja, but I love a reformed cartoon bully and a Golden Child who crumples under the weight of expectation. Koana is incredible, I was iffy about him at first but you could hear the desperation in his voice when Wuk Lamat was kidnapped (fantastic job by the voice actor, sincerely) and from there I just continued to love him more.

For Wuk Lamat specifically she really grated on my nerves for the first few levels. I know the intention of her archetype/character growth, but it felt like some of her frequent complaining was played for comedy and it just fell flat for me. But the moment she said "hey I'm gonna turn around and be better" she really did do that. Asking to hold the WOL's hand and her little "um...do you want to explore with me?" AND WANTING THE WOL TO STAY IN TULIYOLLAL WITH HER god those just hit me right in the heart. She grew on me.

The final zone. I cried. I've seen some complaints about whiplash with the direction DT took from the first to second half, and I kind of get that, but for me it kept things a little fresher. I would have liked to see more payoff in Tural after all the time and energy you spent learning about the different cultures but it is what it is.

I love that SE decided that once you shut down a terminal you will lose the beauty of that area. It really made me hesitate and want to look around more, which just drove home the point of saying goodbye to the Endless. I was teary-eyed leading up to Cahciua's terminal especially. IDK I love my mom and it HURT SO BAD.

The cutscenes: Some of them were such a delight that I was in tears. I don't care if people found it cheesy, I LOVED the train bomb. At first I was disappointed that it wasn't going to be an interactive duty but watching G'raha Tia pull Alisaie back onto the platform just for the WOL to save them both? Jumping off the train? Everything my southwestern heart could want.

And the cowboys. The duels. The accents. I was in love.

Last thing I'll say is I've seen a lot of "do you need to be the hero?" questions/polls/etc. For me it's not about whether you're the hero, I just need to have that rapport with the NPCs and to feel present. So I appreciated the few times we got a bit of that.

Anyway I'm not gonna say anything negative because I just don't feel like it. There were a few things I would have liked to see done better, differently, whatever, but I'm satisfied enough. I'm really looking forward to what comes in the patches.

[ffxivaltaholic]

LFRP: Diarmune Rhet-Khas

Character Name: Diarmune Rhet-Khas

The Basics ––– –

Age: 55

Birthday: End of Summer

Race: Viera

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Pansexual

Marital Status: Single

Physical Appearance ––– –

Hair: Quite long and silvery white. It is almost always pulled up in a ponytail. When down it is long enough to sit on (Hence why it is always up)

Eyes: Pale Green

Height: 6"1'

Build: Athletic and fit

Distinguishing Marks: Minimal scars from years of working with dangerous plants and animals. Two sleeves tattooed in a vine and floral pattern with a flower on his shoulder.

Common Accessories: His Gleaner gear, a journal, some kind of plant or flower probably...

Personal ––– –

Profession: Gleaner

Hobbies: Botany and Horticulture

Languages: Common (With a Thavnarian accent)

Residence: Thavnair/Sharlayan

Birthplace: Thavnair

Religion: The Twelve

Relationships ––– -

Spouse: None

Children: None

Parents: Father: Elías- Alive/Silk Maker | Mother: Myra - Alive/Tailoress

Siblings: Sister (Older Twin): Sofina - Alive/Student | Sister (Younger Twin): Helina - Alive/Student

Other Relatives: None that he knows of.

Pets: Korpokkur (Named Plum), Great Morbol (Named Dahlia)

Traits ––– -

* Bold your character’s answer.

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between /  Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal 

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Additional information ––– –

Smoking Habit:  Nope Drugs: None Alcohol: Very rarely, he is quite a light weight and suffers terrible hangovers.

RP Hooks ––– –

SHARLAYAN: While much of the Viera's time is spent away, he does return to his Sharlayan home from time to time, whether it's to bring in a specimen or to simply visit with old friends, he is not to difficult to find there, particularly as his clothing tends to standout against the more conservative and neutral tones of his Sharlayan counterparts. As a significant contributor in his field of study to the vast library over his three decades of work, Dia is most likely found there, but also will peruse the market and visit Labyrinthos from time to time. Especially if any of his projects are flourishing.

THAVNAIR: Born and raised in Thavnair, Dia spent his entire youth there with his family. They are prominent silk makers and tailors, specializing in ornate and delicate garments. He's very familiar with the locals and after the panic of the End of Days subsided, Dia visits far more frequently. He's often found in the Radz-at-han market, out by Palaka's Stand, or in the silk factory pitching in to help his parents. A Thavnarian born, he has an identifiable accent and tends to wear garments that connect him to his home.

GLEANERS: Are you a Gleaner too? Then there is a good chance you have crossed paths with him at some point in time, especially over the years of intense gathering in preparation for the End of Days. Due to the nature of his work (Specifically in regards to dangerous plants and plant-like creatures, IE: Morbols) it's very likely your Character might work side by side with him, or at least in the same vicinity.

TRAVELS/IN PASSING: There are very few places on this grand shard that Dia has not been, which means his availability to meet people is vast and ever expanding! Perhaps you came across him at an Inn, or aboard a ship? Maybe you met him in one of the main cities, or out in the boonies of the continents... Regardless, Dia can be basically anywhere necessary to meet your character. (Note: Not the First however, I'm fairly lore strict on this point since only the WoL can freely travel back and forth at this point in the story and he is not a WoLPC.)

Contact Information  ––– –

I would prefer to be contacted via Tumblr first before giving out my Discord.

In game and Discord RP works for me, though I prefer in game.

His Carrd: https://diarmune.carrd.co/

[cherrymangos]

FFXIV UPDATE! Another long one, so there will be many screenies under the cut :3

First up: I attempted to do the fall guys event! But my internet disconnected me and I could not compete so alas, that shall have to wait :(

Does anyone know for how long this event will last, and if it'll come back yet again?

Moenbryda :D

These DPS queues are ROUGH. While queueing for the hard versions of the 3 primal fights, I had 3 separate tanks drop and I ended waiting over an hour combined. I miss my healer queues

I got recognized during the Shiva fight :)

And now... it's Haurchfaunt time <3

Also, the foreshadowing sure goes crazy in this game

And if you've been following my journey, I'm sure you're wondering where my Hyur Vash has gone... Alas, I received one too many free fantasia's and became an au'ra. frankly it was a spur of the moment decision but i have an extra fantasia for when i want to become vash again so not all is lost :]

here are some screenies of my new WoL, whom i consider to be transmasc <3

anyways back to what you're here for... during the hard version of the Titan fight, i fucked up. a LOT. like, died 5-6 times. What can I say? It was late, i was tired, and i'd completely forgotten the mechanics because it's been so long T_T Also I got incredibly unlucky and was the only player to be targeted by that one move that entombs you in rock, so I had to wait for my party to bail me out. And yet somehow by the end of it, I still ended up getting a player commendation.

Quite frankly I wanted to refund it to whoever gave it to me, because that was the WORST performance I've put forth yet.

Anyways. I once again got cock-blocked and had to FINALLY finish the crystal tower quests. So uh. Yeah. Got eaten by a dog. Killed by a giant floating eye. Watched Graha take a nap and remembered I won't be seeing that guy for a long time. You know, the good stuff.

I also now have over 4 days worth of time put into this play through :)

And while I was shopping around at Revanant's Toll, another Au Ra popped up next to me and our chocobo started running into each other. When I exited my menu to get a better photo they stopped :(

Bye Moenbryda :( I wasn't terribly sad to see you go in all honesty because you did not get as much screen time as I remembered. I teared up a bit but didn't end up actually crying and the whole funeral felt a bit awkward because like, what do I actually really know about you...

And in today's episode of Minfilia continues to make me mad:

That's wonderful Minfilia! A shame I can't confide in anyone myself because you forbade me from telling the others about Midgardsormr yoinkin the blessing of light! Who's MY pillar of strength huh?? It's even better because Alphinaud says this:

Just wielding me like a weapon and I got no say in the matter :(

anyways... Hi Estinien! Quite frankly I don't remember how my last Dragoon quest left off because it's been a minute, but didn't you disappear? After being possessed or somethin? I'm VERY excited to play through Heavensward as a Dragoon. No other expansion has unique class dialogue do they?

Now for a speed run: got accused of regicide. Wanted to punch Teledji in the face. Wanted to punch Ilberd in the face. And I'm already missing my fellow scions... Hope I get to see you minor characters again because I'll be for real, I don't remember what happens to you!

ok so funny story... ive hit the photo limit. So uh. there will be more screenies in a reblog

[gatheredfates]

Soon I say. Then immediately head over here. I have no chill today. I already lightly poked at your characters before asking.

So first question. Koret. Echo. Okay those aren't really questions but tell me about the Echo and her. How does she experience it? She sees it as a curse so I imagine it gets in the way. But what exactly does it let her do? Or do to her?

:)

Koret and the Echo have a very complicated relationship.

In truth, her feelings on the Echo depend on what verse I'm playing her in, because her WoL verse has a very circular relationship that she's only just coming to terms with, whereas her general/in-game verse doesn't have that same kind of closure.

I'll break it down into those parts but I'll pop it under a read-more, only because I tend to get carried away when talking about her.

I may drabble these at some point.

Warrior of Light

Kor, point blank, did not want to be the Warrior of Light. She made it known to the Scions very early in the piece that the only reason that she was allying with them was because her secondary option was killing herself, and she'd prefer to take out Hydaleyn before she did. She was not a kind or palatable character in early ARR.

The thing was, the Echo was nothing but a horror. Her very first manifestation of it showed her sister being murdered and thrown to the brine beneath La Noscea, and she could do absolutely nothing to stop it. She was on her ship at least two days away from port, having just had a major argument with her, and in no place to warn or protect. Her death was an inevitability she could not stop.

Kor has a complicated relationship with her sister. She was protective in the same way she could be possessive; she wanted to shelter her from everything, even at the cost of her experiences, and part of that she felt was the reason she ran into her father's arms when he promised even an ilm of protection. Kor's treatment was more akin a raw nerve — jagged edges and white-hot reactions — and, while her heart was in the right place, a creature raised on rage and trauma learns to extend the same in kind. There were times where she was not a good person, or a good sibling, and those are things she has had to reconcile in Lily's death.

That makes her angry. This anger, this hate, influenced everything she did. What was the point of The Echo if it couldn't stop the one thing she so desperately wished she could avert? She didn't want the people of Eorzea to look at her like she was a hero. If she could carve The Echo out and give it to them malignant and squirming, she would have. If they wanted to be the hero and risk life and limb, they could bloody well have it. All she was interested in was undermining whatever sick individual(s) thought she ought to be the 'chosen one'.

It didn't even occur to her that she was softening over time. Every time she did, it felt like there was another blow — another obstacle — she and the Scions needed to overcome. Rage became resignation, she told herself; even if she'd risk life and limb for them.

It's not so much the Echo does anything to her, no more so than a regular WoL. A lot of the time her visions come to her in dreams, or in strange, intangible pictures she needs to decipher, but they don't hurt her. In Stormblood, she comes to the terrible realisation she had been relying on The Echo when Zenos took her eye, and that causes her outrage all over again.

It's a Catch-22. She didn't mind The Echo when it allowed her to kill her father, but despised using its clairvoyance. It merely showed her that all her thoughts about him were right.

There's a lot in here that I could unpack that would make this already really long reply longer than it already is, but I'll cut to the chase. Elpis was eye-opening for her. Meeting Venat changed her perspective. Events within Shadowbingers had already given her a more sympathetic look towards the ancients and the cruelty of fate, but coming face to face with the person she told herself she hated... she didn't hate her. She simply could not hate her. In telling her the story of how she had come to be, she also had to tell her about her sister.

It was that horrible, gut-wrenching realisation that she needed to ask Venat to only give her The Echo on the night her sister died.

She needed to see that she died, to feel the weight of her death, before she would do anything. Where Lily alive, she wouldn't become the Warrior of Light. If she didn't see her death, there would be no rage to live for — no constant push to adventure and endure for her 'revenge'. Venat had to inflict the worst horror for the greatest kindness, and she did it knowing Kor ( or, more apt, Kore — her protégé, inheritor of her seat ) would hate her.

She did it anyway.

What's crazy about all of that is I made up the former part of Kor's story in Stormblood. Everything beyond that was just a happy accident, and it feels right for it to come full circle in that way. Fate had to play out a certain way so she and others could chart their own course. She needed to live because she deserved to live.

Minor footnotes are that I did drabble parts of it here. I'd like to revisit it at some point but... it's there.

In Game/General Verse

All the stuff surrounding Lily still applies. Kor simply never sought out the Scions. Instead, she was pulled off the brink by Crow and ushered keenly into Firelight Trading Company.

Kor... doesn't like The Echo. That's not a shock. While it gives her the future-sight to predict storms and keep her safe, it's also the little bastard who likes to give her a play-by-play of her friends and loved ones' lives.

There's a indescribable level of mortification that comes from trying to respect peoples' boundaries and their trauma, only for The Echo to conveniently say 'hehe, let's tell you anyway!' in nightmares you can't escape from. It feels invasive and spiteful to her, even if those it affects knows it's not her fault. She wouldn't want people to see into her life, so why is it fair she gets to?

Obviously, I'm very mindful of the power The Echo holds, and I'm deliberate in reinforcing that it doesn't give Kor any advantages in regular roleplay. It's just there for ~flavour~.

However, in both verses she wrecked her ship on Leviathan because she couldn't be tempered and got her just rewards from The Maelstrom. That was probably the best thing that came from it.

[morgana96]

What Went Wrong with the Lancer Quests?

(Warning: Lancer Class Quests, Rogue Class Quests, and other Minor ARR Spoilers Under the Cut)

When I first started Final Fantasy XIV, I already knew I’d be maining Dragoon. Estinien is my favorite character and the one who drew me to the game in the first place, so my interest in the job was well cemented before I even picked it up. And while I like to play all the other jobs as well, Dragoon has remained my favorite to this day, and the one I play on the most often.

Which is why it’s quite ironic that I think the Lancer quests are some of the worst in the entire game.

It didn’t really hit me how bad the questline was back when I did it as a sprout, especially since it was my first one. But several years and many job quests later, Lancer stands out as tragically inadequate, even compared to some of the other class quests from A Realm Reborn.

Based on what I've seen from other players, I'm hardly alone in this opinion. But rather than just complain about it, I want to take a close look at the questline. It’s a good opportunity discuss the story’s key issues, as well as suggest new ideas for a potential rewrite.

To prepare for this, I’ve recently replayed the questline so that I can give an accurate and proper review. I doubt anyone who actually writes for this game will ever see this. But I'd still like to put my thoughts out there, especially since it can lead to good discussion about how the game could be improved overall.

Problem #1: The Plot Puts Too Much Focus on the Wrong Things

Writing a good story requires an understanding of balance. Characters, plots, and themes need to work together in order to create a strong narrative, because when even one of these elements is lacking, the entire story gets dragged down. This is exactly the situation I think is plaguing the Lancer quests; instead of a balanced narrative, it throws way too much focus on its attempted theme, neglecting the characters, pacing, and plot and leading to an ineffective story overall.

The main theme the story tries to convey is the idea of courage vs recklessness; in their training, lancers are encouraged to harness their sense of courage in order to face dangerous foes, while not slipping into reckless behavior that could end up getting themselves or others hurt/killed.

Now this in itself isn't a terrible lesson or anything. The problem is that the Lancer quests put way too much of the narrative focus on it. Everything the characters do and say feels like it revolves around this attempted theme, leaving them feeling like broken records instead of engaging and enjoyable characters. The WoL also spends most of the storyline having to complete various “tests of courage”, both those assigned by Ywain and those that Foulques forces them to join him in. It starts to feel repetitive rather quickly, especially when that’s all that’s being offered in terms of “plot”. And because the plot and characters are so underdeveloped, the theme being pushed so desperately just comes off as an annoying hindrance by the end.

The finale only emphasizes the problem, as the truth behind Foulques’ actions is revealed with barely six minutes left in the story. Many years ago, he was a lancer in the guild, and participated in robbing the guild with several friends and compatriots. But when he felt guilty and tried own up to it, the other accomplices framed him as the sole criminal, resulting in Foulques being subjected to anti-Duskwight prejudice and eventually imprisoned, while the others faced no consequences.

This sudden revelation leaves the player with unanswered questions and unresolved issues. Who and where are Foulques' ex-friends and co-conspirators? Are they still out there continuing to profit from their clear corruption/prejudice? Why isn’t there a more significant reaction from the guild to the truth behind this scandal being revealed? Why was such a significant plot point introduced with barely any time left in the story? And why did Foulques spend six quests throwing the Warrior of Light and others into random peril instead of, you know, actually trying to get revenge on those who horribly wronged him?

In my opinion, the story needs less repetitive theme pushing and more focus on the past guild robbery and those involved. Instead of random lancers-in-training, Foulques’ main targets should have been his former co-conspirators (perhaps going as far as to kill them one by one), and the WoL would have had to work with Ywain to discover the motive behind the attacks. This would be a much more engaging plot to watch unfold throughout several quests, and it would add some much needed intrigue and character growth in a nearly lifeless narrative.

The theme of “courage vs recklessness” can also still fit into a rewrite. Foulques would probably still judge the entire guild as “cowards” due to the cowardly actions of his former friends. He might also consider his recklessly vengeful actions “true courage”, regardless of whether innocents were caught in the crossfire or not. Meanwhile, Ywain could take the satisfying step of righting the Lancer’s Guild’s past failures; by finally holding the other conspirators accountable - and acknowledging that the guild must do better from now on - it would drive home that having the courage to admit to mistakes is just as important as courage in battle.

Problem #2: Foulques is a Poorly Written Character

I’ve actually seen a lot of players talk about Foulques over the years. For a minor character introduced so early on, he has quite the cult following, and I think it’s safe to say that I’m not alone in thinking this character deserved better.

To be honest, I don’t really like canon Foulques. But the reason I dislike him is mainly because whoever wrote him did a pretty horrendous job. He had potential to be an interesting and complex villain, as his justifiable anger about the wrongs committed against him could have warped and twisted his moral code. But instead, he spends the quests acting like a presumptuous jerk who thinks hazing lancer recruits will prove he’s the pinnacle of “true courage”.

The backstory they created for Foulques is honestly one of the most sympathetic in the game. But again, it isn’t even revealed until the back end of the final level 30 quest. Until that moment, you get ZERO explanation as to why Foulques is doing what he’s doing. No clues, no subtext, no steady and satisfying reveal - only a rushed exposition dump that feels disconnected from the character’s personality up until then.

You can’t just drop a complex and nuanced backstory at the last second and call that good writing. The upbringing and backstory of a character is integral to the character’s overall personality, much like how it is for real people who grow up and experience different circumstances. Yet somehow, Foulques’ backstory feels like an afterthought, dropped at the last second instead of integrated naturally.

Again, the best way to remedy this is to refocus Foulques’ motivations and actions. Adding the other co-conspirators as secondary antagonists would allow them to become the main targets of Foulques’ rage. Meanwhile, the background characters in the lancer’s guild could be collateral caught in the crossfire of his goals.

Furthermore, featuring these false friends as characters would be a good chance to show the consequences of not punishing them. Based on how they treated Foulques, there’s a good chance several - if not all of them - went on to continue their corruption in other ways, especially if they felt confident that they could keep getting away with it. If these further misdeeds were to be revealed, it would further show that the Lancer’s Guild’s actions failed not only Foulques, but the later victims of the co-conspirators.

Problem #3: Ywain is Underutilized

Ywain’s probably not someone brought up often when it comes to people’s favorite NPCs. In fact, I’ve seen certain players actively hate him because they consider him complacent in what happened to Foulques.

But honestly, I think Ywain is as much a victim of the story's bad writing as Foulques is. It’s not like he knew about all of this and was conspiring to hide the truth from the WoL/others or something. He finds out about Foulques' history in the literal final moments of the story, and because that history was thrown in so haphazardly late, his reaction is haphazardly rushed and poorly written in turn.

Overall, I think the biggest problem with Ywain is that he feels like he’s hardly participating in the story at all. Technically, he is the other main character in the WoL’s journey to become a lancer, and should be an important part of the plot. But instead, Ywain is a largely inactive presence; he spends most of the questline standing in a single spot of the guild and telling the WoL to go off on their own somewhere. He’s stationary both physically and in terms of development, which I think was a huge error in judgement on the part of the original writer.

I can’t help but compare this characterization issue with one of my favorite class quests: Rogue. Jacke, V’kebbe, and Perimu don’t have the issue Ywain does. They join you on various Rogue’s Guild missions, fight with you through several instances, and regularly banter with you and each other so you get a good idea of who they each are. Hell, these three even continue to help the WoL long after they graduate from Rogue, becoming allies with the Doman Ninjas and providing them with intel and extra manpower when needed.

The Rogue Quests did a much better job of utilizing their NPCs than what we see here. It’s practically impossible to become invested in a character that feels so removed from the plot itself. It’s no wonder Ywain gets forgotten - and even hated - when the lancer story gives him literally nothing to grow on. Instead of letting him be an actual character, the narrative regulates him to a one-dimensional mouthpiece used to assign the next set of tasks.

My frustration with the in-game writing only grew when I learned Ywain’s backstory from the lore book. Back when he was still a Wood Wailer, he and Landenel (the Wailer Captain at Camp Tranquil who was in Company of Heroes) were very close friends. At some point, a lack of judgement led to Landenel making a serious mistake - one that would have gotten him in a lot of trouble, and would have been exacerbated by the undeserved disdain Landenel often faced as the son of a known criminal. But wanting to protect his friend from unfair treatment, Ywain took the blame for everything and was kicked out of the Wood Wailers, though his name was later cleared and he was given the guildmaster position.

Ywain essentially did for Landenel what the co-conspirators refused to do for Foulques. This could have been an excellent way to give the two a comparable history, and if anyone would be insulted by the betrayal Foulques faced, you’d think it would be Ywain. But once again, this all goes to waste because the Lancer Quests never bring up Ywain’s history. I can’t understand how such relevant information ended up being ignored and left out, especially since it could have helped flesh Ywain out and allowed him to understand Foulques a little bit better.

In an improved version of the Lancer Quests, Ywain needs the narrative room to develop. He needs to be more involved in the plot and the tasks set for the WoL, so that the player can actually get to know him instead of just going to him briefly for their next assignment. He and the WoL should learn about Foulques history at an earlier point in the questline, and given his history with Landenel, it would make sense for him to be sympathetic. Ywain doesn’t necessarily need to agree with Foulques’ methods or means of revenge. But creating a common ground between them would greatly improve the nuance of both characters.

~~~

Thank you so much for taking the time to read! I plan to post my rewrite ideas sometime in the near future, but until then, I’d love to hear other people’s thoughts about this questline and its storytelling.

If you enjoyed my writing, please consider sharing and leaving feedback!

[aajjks]

NWO!JK

ah, young love~

oh-wol had a feeling jungkook was interested in you. she remembers when he came home from school and couldn’t stop talking about this pretty girl whose name he couldn’t remember but when the two of you started hanging out more and more, falling in love with you came naturally to him. although you didn’t reciprocate the same affection, oh-wol had this gut feeling that one day you would love her nephew as much as he loves you.

she’s disappointed to hear that her sweet jungkook who wouldn’t hurt a fly, hurt the girl he’s loved since he was a freshman. since he’s 21 now, she can’t tell him to sit in a corner and think about his actions but she knows his guilty conscience is beating him up about it.

“all i’m going to say is that we as humans make mistakes but the way we fix our mistakes is through acceptance and correction. the past can hurt but we can either run from it or learn from it”

🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️

being without jungkook for the past two days has been strange for you and eunwoo. neither of you said much to your best friend but you haven’t texted, called, or even spoke to him at all since the incident and with your bruise looking and feeling much better, eunwoo thinks it’s time to squash it and move on.

“eunwoo? i told jungkook i was in love with him” you say and eunwoo pauses for a moment. did you say what he think you just said? “fucking FINALLY!” he cheers.

“so are you guys dating?”

“what do you mean finally? and no. not yet at least”

“do you know what it’s like to watch your best friends flirt for hours? it’s like watching paint dry”

“it’s…boring?”

“no, it’s annoying but i thought you weren’t talking to him?”

“i’m not but i told i liked him. he’s gotta work his way back, y’know?”

“okay. yeah, don’t be easy. i know he was crying like a baby when you told him you love him”

you laugh. “hey, leave him alone. he can’t help it sometimes”

~🫧

Jungkook rushes into the campus immediately, his eyes desperately looking for you, and he smiles so big when he spots you and eunwoo talking together— no, laughing— together.

He’s glad to see you happy. But yet a sense of shame overwhelms him suddenly. He takes slow steps towards the both of you.

“Hi guys…” he breathes in before speaking. His eyes all nervous, he starts to rub his neck. “Ah… hi guys?” He says again.

You finally give him your attention, eunwoo looks at him as well. “Hey man. Hey yn…” Jungkook feels so sweaty all of a sudden.

Shame is not a good feeling at all. “I-I’m so sorry for my behavior…” he looks down on the ground, the truth is that he wants to hug you so badly.

He’s missed you terribly. And eunwoo too.

“Come on talk to me..” Jungkooks eyes fill up with tears, he can’t take it anymore, so he tries to look away, he doesn’t want to seem pathetic.

BUT.. he needs your acknowledgement.

“I-I NEED YOU TWO TO TALK TO ME.” He says while his lower lip quivers.

[purple-link]

Alisaie and Purple Link

FFXIV Write 2024 Story Entry

Spoiler: Story takes place after WoL reaches Garlemald in Endwalker, but but before the Tower of Babil dungeon. Story will be largely sfw, but will adhere to FFXIV's level of mature storytelling.

Chapter 27: Memory

Back in the days of the warring states, the Lupin who had traveled from the west had settled for a while in Othard. By the time their participation had run its course, they had lost a lot of their population, the wolves pushed to the brink of their lives.

One wolf, in particular, simply named Garo, had been running himself ragged, trying to collect as many people as he could, trying to build a foundation. Every conflict he had been in had pretty much reduced his numbers.

With the Rijin Clan taking most of Othard, everyone had basically started to pal around with Ganen, and it was amazing to him how such a ruthless campaigner could be uniting so many people under his flag.

Well, not if Garo had anything to say about it.

That day, however, it was hard to prove. He wasn’t having a very good day. He was trying to get his people around a cavern, to try to cut off one the enemy's armies from their camp. He’d forgotten which one.

One small problem: he was very bad with directions. He was one of the strongest Lupin his race had ever known, and he won every challange to be alpha of his soldiers, but give him a map without help, and he may as well have led his whole race into the ocean.

He wasn’t very proud of this. Today was another one of those days. One part of his army was holding defenses against enemy lines, the other part was seeking to break though them.

Another one of his bright ideas led a squadron his army into a cavern with no end in sight, and his soldiers were starting to get on his wick.

“Boss Garo, this is madness!” said one of the Lupin, “We’ve been here for hours, there is no way out of this mountain.”

Garo turned sharply and growled at his soldiers, silencing them all. While he was much bigger than they were, it only about a difference of a foot. It was still enough to make them step back by the sheer surprise of it.

“I am not going to let a mountain defeat me!” said Garo, “We have sacrificed too much, and gave too many lives just for the last of us to suddenly die in a mountain somewhere! I will not let that happen!”

“Pardon my saying, sir,” said another Lupin, “but as lost as we are, we currently don’t have much of a choice.”

“It’s this ruddy nose of mine,” said Garo, “I should have known better than to fight while sick with a cold.”

He leant back against the wall. He felt his pack for something he could light. Maybe if he didn’t feel like he was freezing.

“I think we should make camp for the night,” said Garo, “We’ll pick this up again in the morning.”

But his argument wasn’t convincing. Even sick with a cold, they believed he could power his way through anything, but getting lost was a whole other matter.

Conversations of dissent were already spreading through the squadron.

“I don’t think Garo’s got the barrier he thinks he has, to defend our people,” said a campfire, off to his left, “If he can’t get this route performed, we may be signing our death warrants.”

“Oh, gods, that’s all I need,” said Garo, to his favorite lieutenant, Yuki, a female, “I have spent a lifetime gathering all my Lupin, and getting them united against our enemies, and now that we have a solid chance, I go and catch a ruddy cold.

"Thal’s balls, of all the rotten luck.”

“If they challenge you, it’s all over,” said Yuki, “You sure you can take the pressure?”

“Of course I can!” said Garo, arguing, “It’s my race or my life! There’s no way in the seven hells that…”

He stopped midway through. He sneezed terribly. Yuki sighed impatiently, and whipped out another handkerchief. He took it appreciatively.

“Thanks for that,” said Garo, “Now, if I had my nose, I’d probably be able to get us out of here like a shot.”

“Yes, curious how inconvient that is,” said Yuki, “And yet, my nose is working just fine, and I still can’t sniff the outside. I think we’re well and truly lost, my friend.”

“Yuki,” said Garo, blowing his nose noisily, “You are, once again, a fount of optimism.”

He put his paw on his forehead, feeling it throb. He was getting sicker.

“Screw it,” said Garo, “We sleep here tonight, ladies and gentlemen. Grab a partner, share the body heat. I want two watches at both ends, at all times.”

But he couldn’t sleep. Part of it was because he was stuffed to all hells, but it was also because this wasn’t the first time his alpha male status was challenged.

If he couldn’t survive now, a new Lupin was going to take charge, and he’d already sacrificed a ton of his time to make sure they were not only defendable but sustainable. Most of southern Yanxia was all theirs.

Meanwhile, the Rijin clan, thinking them hoity-toity, all lived up on the cliffs, their opulent community allowed them to look down at beastmen and try to put them in their place.

He hated that feeling. Not that he couldn’t deal with a beneficial agreement between clans, but no one had offered one to him yet. Every person he’d fought was basically the first time he’d fought them.

He was tired of the fighting, tired of wondering if his race was going to extinguish, like a flame upon a candle. The very thought made his legs restless.

Trying not to wake Yuki, lying next to him, he silently stepped out.

Bugger, he thought, the watch. How can a leader of wild Lupin get a silent and brooding walk to himself if he couldn’t sneak past his own people? He was just going to have to busk it.

“I am going to look around for a spring, or a well,” said Garo, whispering to his watch, “I will not go far.”

“Keep yourself safe,” said one of his watchmen, “I’d recommend taking someone with you.”

“No, I am not going that far,” said Garo, hoping that was true, “Keep an eye on the party. If anything should happen to me, help them get out of this blasted mountain.”

“Thy will be done,” said the watchman, saluting. Garo groaned.

“Oh, stop talking fancy,” said Garo, “We’re not hyur or Roegadyn, and we don’t need to illuminate our speech. We’re just creatures.”

“Sorry, sir, but I don’t believe that,” said the watchman, “The day I believe us lesser than the other races is the day that I get a spear from your own blade.”

Garo smirked agreeably.

“That’s a good way to see it,” said Garo, “Normally, I’d have you spitting my authority around the camp to fire up the lads. I know that all the respect I’ve earned is not going to be in vain.”

He put a paw up to his head. He felt like he was getting worse.

“But please, just give me a minute,” said Garo, exhaustedly, “I’m more than happy to spread my doctrine, right now, I just wanna be me and be sick.”

“Suit yourself sir,” said the watchman, “Again, be careful. I know you’re one of the strongest Lupin in the army, but even you have your weaknesses.”

“That’s smart of you to mention,” said Garo, “Give me a salute, and maybe I’ll feel better.”

He did. And he did not.

“At ease, soldier,” said Garo, waving goodbye as he moved, “I will be back before the dawn.”

Yet another smart move, idiot, he thought to himself, You just left your squadron alone in a labyrinth they’re hopelessly lost in, and it was your idea. Now you’re all by yourself.

He tried listening for running water, but he was picking up nothing. He could smell nothing but ash and dust. And that was when he could breathe.

Eventually, he ran into a cavern, and here, he could feel, much less see the water. He trundled along, looking for a pool deep enough he could just plunge his head in.

Unfortunately, that was when the fever hit. He fell like a bag of bricks down one side of the wall. It was hanging over another level of the cave.

The Lupin felt his body slide down the wall, going unconscious right when he landed in the arms of someone else…

…

The Lupin stared up into the ceiling. He was feeling a bit better, but he wasn’t sure why. His head still throbbed.

Maybe it had been a couple of hours. Maybe it had been a couple of days. He was hoping that there was enough rations for his men to get out of the cave. Without his nose, he was doing bugger-all to help.

“Pray, do not move or speak,” said an unfamiliar voice outside of his range, “You will only make yourself worse.”

The figure stepped above him, his blade fastened to his belt.

It was a hyur, he noticed, and one he recognized very well. His blood would boil, if the rest of him wasn’t boiling along with it. He coughed and coughed again.

The hyur had his hair pulled back. The young man had a wispy little mustache to accompany his wispy little beard. He seemed a little anxious, and mollycoddled over the Lupin as he got sicker.

You wouldn’t have guessed at first glance that this man was a vicious warlord who ruled in Othard over all the races who swore loyalty to him.

“Ganen,” said Garo, his voice creaky, “Ganen Rijin.”

“I have half a mind to call you a simpleton” said Ganen, the Lupin too sick to react to this, “I know you’re this aggressive Lupin leader, but you’d think you’d be able to notice when a cold was coming during an assault.”

“There is no other way,” said Garo, “Enemy forces are assembling at my border, along with yours. This was the only way that I could cut them off.”

He then coughed again, realizing that Ganen was hovering over the Lupin with a wet cloth.

“What are you doing here?” said Garo, “I thought men like you slept in tents, with riches and swords surrounding your bed, and nothing but bodyguards to protect you.”

“First of all, that’s other leaders, not me,” said Ganen, "and secondly…"

He faltered slightly, starting to become defensive.

“I dont’t want to talk about it.”

The Lupin looked at Ganen putting the cloth on the Lupin’s forehead. He smiled and started to laugh.

“H-Hey, don’t laugh!” said Ganen, “It’s not the coldest water.”

“You’re lost too, huh, little boy?” said Garo. Ganen blushed deeply.

“That’s not…” said Ganen, “I’m exploring the caves, alright? I haven't been down the stratum.”

“That sounds like a lie,” said Garo, “I appreciate the kind gestures, but if you weren’t ready to slash a throat-”

“Are you kidding?!” said Ganen, the warlord, who looked grossly offended, “I don’t want to kill anybody!”

“How foolish of you, then,” said Garo, “Killing is an inevitable part of war–”

“No, you don’t understand,” said Ganen, “It’s not just a matter of principle.”

Garo looked at the young hyur curiously, and then he shook his head.

“Fine,” said Garo, “Tell me, what do you think is the most important part of war?”

He coughed.

“I am sick, I am weak. Take my life,” said Garo, “I am at your mercy. You kill me, you have my army. You could get rid of years of conflict–”

“What a waste,” said Ganen, sadly. Garo’s ears perked up.

“What’s that?” said Garo, suddenly feeling irritated, “If you’re not going to kill me, then you’re a lousy warrior.”

Ganen stood up and sighed.

“I don’t want to kill you, period,” said Ganen, “I want to see you live.”

"That’s kind of you,” said Garo, feeling himself shiver, cautiously taking the canteen of water from Ganen’s hands to drink, “But you do realize that, even without a weapon, I could kill you with one swipe of my claws.”

“First of all, good luck, I’ve got great reflexes,” said Ganen, “Secondly, I don’t care whether you kill me or not. I’m not going to let another soul suffer.”

Garo was too tired and too sick for these games. It was his decisions that got him into this mess, and he didn’t need to complicate it by playing political sport.

“Fine, you win,” said Garo, “Heal me. I don’t care anymore. I am a bit curious why a savage warlord is working to cure one of his most bitter enemies.”

Ganen sat next to the wolf. He was waiting for a moment to change his forehead cloth. His eyes moved from side-to-side, visibly trying to make a decision, before he finally made one.

“...I am a bit lost,” said Ganen, “These walls all look similar after a while.”

Garo chuckled, even if it made his body hurt. Ganen shook his head.

“What’s the matter?” asked Garo.

“Such self-deprecation. You can't be serious,” said Ganen. Garo frowned at this.

“Impudent fool,” said Garo, “Just because I’m sick doesn’t mean I’m stupid. I know what position I’m in right now, I’m not about to lie to myself. But don’t think for a minute this diminishes my stature.

“The minute I am well enough to walk on my own,” said Garo, “I will cut through you.”

“Can you really do that?” asked Ganen. Garo rolled his eyes.

“Do what?” said Garo.

“It’s just,” said Ganen, “It’s stuff like that. Your claws, your tail.”

“...Yeah?” said Garo, getting more impatient.

“I quite admire them,” said Ganen. Garo blushed a little too deeply. He turned his head away.

“You’re just a boy,” said Garo, “You’d think carriages with doors are admirable.”

“And they are,” said Ganen, “The really ornate ones are the ones you could tell they spent a lot of time and equations on getting just right. I only have a bland, simple one.”

“Not that you need much, do you, warmonger?” said Garo. Ganen frowned.

“Why do you keep calling me that?” said Ganen.

“Your people,” said Garo, leaning on his elbows, trying to look the young man in the eye, “have been responsible for the deaths of my people since my grandfather’s time. Why should I be in your debt?”

“Y’know, you can act as arrogant as you like,” said Ganen, “I really don’t care. I’m here, on my own, trying to gather as much data as I can about these tunnels. I stumble into you, I notice you’re Garo, the leader of the Lupin armies.”

Garo’s fur stood on end. He already knew who he was, even as he was falling to his death.

“Now, I know you don’t believe me, but I don’t care,” said Ganen, blushing lightly, “Lupin are such glorious creatures. I think all beastmen are glorious.

"Call me selfish, call me what you will, but even if it was my worst enemy, I would still nurse them back to health. I have enough knowledge from what I learned from the White Mages to be able to give my possible best.

“I don’t expect you to be grateful,” said Ganen, “I don’t expect you to thank me. I just want to see you healthy.”

Garo looked on in wonder, not really believing what he was hearing.

“Those are the words of a child!” said Garo, “How could you be so naive? There are soldiers that are out for our blood, right now, clans you haven’t swayed with your impossible swagger–”

“You have a very fluffed up opinion of me,” said Ganen, “All I did was ask people if they wanted to stop fighting, and they said yes. It’s really not more complicated than that.”

“What about ceremonies, treaties, diplomacy,” said Garo, “That takes time. We can’t all just get along.”

“If you think I’m taking this lightly, then you are the fool,” said Ganen, and here, Garo started to hear the man of legend through his words, “I have men, whom I trust, that are responsible for the big words, the massive logistics that it takes to rally together all that had separated us for years, just because we were in a war for supremacy.

"I wanted out the minute I became the leader.

“My father died, and I had to learn, very quickly, what it took to lead the people” said Ganen, “I have to make a lot of quick decisions, not all of them good.

"Every time a person dies by my hands, a little part of me dies. I’m trying very hard to keep that from happening.”

“So, what, you’re just exploring the tunnels as a hobby?” said Garo, frankly, “You, who are in charge of a whole nation…of…”

His eyes widened. Tears were forming at the end of the young man’s eyes.

“By the beard of Ramuh,” said Garo, suddenly very fearful, “You’re serious, aren’t you? You really don’t want to be here.”

“I’ve tried everything,” said Ganen, “I’ve even tried to get Gyosei to explore any tunnels underwater, but–”

“You hired an astrologer?” said Garo, suddenly hopeful, “You hired a fortune teller?”

“No,” said Ganen, “I’ve got support from a friend.”

He heard the bell before he saw it. Garo’s hopefulness died the moment he saw the whiskers.

Coming up the other end of the cavern was a small little guy. He was basically those walking catfish, wearing nothing but a red apron and a dream. In fact, the only thing that was different about him was that he was wearing an astrologian’s planisphere on his back.

“Oh, good gods,” said Garo, leaning back down, “Please don’t tell me you were the one who taught that thing a healer’s trade.”

Gyosei, because that’s what the Namazu’s name is, put his fin up to his mouth in curiosity.

“Oh, my, yes yes,” said the Namazu, “I see we have visitors, Ganen.”

Several hours had passed, during which Garo eventually got well enough to start moving around on his feet.

The little astrologian tried his darndest to use magic to heal him, but it seemed the Namazu barely had the skill. Enough had gotten through, however, that he was able to cure most of the illness from the Lupin’s body.

All he really had to deal with was a runny nose and the tiniest bit of fatigue.

The problem was that the little catfish could only do bits of it at a time, and then rested until he got his strength back to come back and heal again.

Finally, after getting his gear together, he went up to the young lad, who was ready to set off himself.

“Thanks for the help, but I’m afraid I must away with me,” said Garo, “I owe you one, but believe me, the next time we see one another, I fear it must be on the field of battle.”

Ganen looked at Garo curiously, and then saw the big wolf set off on his own again. He looked quickly at the Namazu, who merely shrugged and shook his head, until the young man caught up with the Lupin again.

“Wait a minute!” said Ganen, “I need your help if we’re going to get out of these tunnels.”

“You’re a surprisingly deeply-layered young man,” said Garo, “And I do appreciate the kindness, but my soldiers are in these tunnels, and if they’re still here, I need to find them.”

He sniffed noisily.

“If my nose wasn’t stuffed up right now…” said Garo, upset.

“You need help,” said Ganen, “You need my help. There is no other way.”

Garo looked at Ganen irritably.

“...Fine,” said Garo, finally, “But I move pretty fast. I’m going to leave you behind, if you can’t keep up.”

“Don’t worry about me,” said Ganen, “While I can’t profess I know these tunnels enough, like the back of my hand, so to say, I can get around here just fine on my own two feet.”

Garo had an idea of what that was like. The moment that Garo picked up speed, moving along the tunnels at a clip, Ganen was somehow moving faster, and that was with a little Namazu in his arms.

“I have tiny little legs, yes yes,” said Gyosei, who seemed somehow proud of this statement.

At one point, there was a huge scorpion, his huge tail striking out at the two as they fought it. Garo couldn't dig his claws into its skin.

"Blast it," said Garo, "I feel like scratching stone!"

"You are injured, yes yes?" said the namazu, "I will heal!"

The namazu brought his arms around, making the planisphere float in his fin. As the cards spun around, he plucked one card out of the air.

"Behold, the power of Malefic!"

Poof! The magic puttered out like a barely sufficient rainstorm.

"Odd," said Gyosei, "I was assured I was making progress on my efficacy..."

"Oh, for the love of-" said Ganen, and he brought his hands to the ground.

After a severe shaking of the ground, a huge rock dislodged from the ceiling, falling and crushing the scorpion with its weight. After the dust had fallen, Garo shrieked at the top of his lungs.

"Imbecile!" said Garo, "You could have brought the whole mountain on top of us!"

"Impossible," said Ganen, "I can read the rock. I'm a geomancer."

"...Fine, I'll bite," said Garo, putting his head in his paws.

"I was taught the craft," said Ganen, flexing his arms, "It's not exactly helpful for getting out of dark tunnels, but it does give me control over the earth.

"You'd be surprised how much easier it is to route armies if you can hear their hoofbeats through the ground."

Garo folded his arms, watching the young man take the lead again.

"...That is genuinely impressive," said Garo.

Eventually, Garo started to make a game of escaping the caves.

They ran into a cavern with deep water, with only thin pillars of rock that led to a level higher in the caves. Garo smiled evilly, and started moving from rock to rock, leaping like a leopard from one pillar to another…except that he was a wolf.

Ganen was able to do it, amazingly, without a tail, and with far more grace than he did. Eventually, it turned into a race. Garo smiled enthusiastically at Ganen, who smiled back.

Garo’s footpaws eventually got the best of him, and he mistimed the jump to the ledge at the last second. As he began to fall from a large height, onto pillars that weren’t so dull, Ganen held out his hand for Garo to grasp.

Jumping on any chance to not die, Garo whipped out his paw and clasped as tightly as he could onto Ganen’s arm, his claws digging into the young lord’s arm out of pure anxiety. He was dangling over the ledge.

Garo looked into Ganen’s eyes, and he saw, within the lad, a genuine eagerness for the Lupin to live. A small feeling of gratitude grew in Garo then, one that increased in size into sincere respect.

…He really didn’t want him to die, thought Garo. He eventually climbed up the ledge, in front of Ganen. He was so scared, he grasped Ganen in a hug. They both peeked over the edge.

“Thal’s balls,” said Garo, “I thought I was going to die.”

“It’s a good thing you have me here,” said Ganen, who was half-joking. Garo knew he was half-joking, but he stood up and tried to restore what little dignity he had.

“I…Certainly,” said Garo, “But I’m sure I would have thought of something.”

“Would you?”

“No, actually, I was going to get skewered by those rocks,” said Garo, turning around with exhaustion, admitting he was bluffing, “I would have legitimately died if it weren’t for you. I want to thank you.”

“Let’s get your fellows out of this cave, first,” said Ganen, pointing a finger up, “Then you can thank me.”

It took a little bit longer than he liked, but he eventually found his soldiers, still lost in the tunnels. Thankfully, he hadn’t lost a single one.

“Garo, thank goodness!” said Yuki, brightness in her eyes, “We eventually had to press on, after you had been gone for so long. We thought you had died.”

“You made the right choice,” said Garo, “Better that the army lives on and protects its citizens than have to answer for an absent leader.”

They had still become defensive. Apparently, they either didn’t appreciate Ganen being there, or they really hated catfish.

“Who is this…man?” said one of the Lupin, “Why do you have one of the Rijin Clan with you?”

“Ganen is, he’s…” said the Lupin, turning to the hyur, curious about this himself. Ganen shrugged, as if to say, “my fate is in your hands.”

That’s funny, thought Garo, that sounds like something that he himself would have said.

“He’s a very good friend of mine,” answered Garo, eventually. This was mostly to get all of them out of the cave, including the Namazu.

Garo was so grateful, he hugged Ganen much more genuinely.

This open expression of affection from a Lupin gave rise to those who would splinter off into their own groups, but it was so moving, a lot of people weren’t surprised decades later, when Garo also swore fealty to the young man.

What followed was a series of adventures, mostly towards protecting Doma and all of its citizen, which included the Lupin, who were able to proliferate and multiply, and also the Namazu, who were just ebullient to be there.

Several years into their employment, with a generous pension plan added as well, Garo eventually learned that Ganen was planning a celebration. When he pressed the man, Ganen chuckled lightly.

“I thought it would be nice,” said Ganen, his beard a little longer these days, “When we signed the documents to unify Othard, it was all very cold and procedural.

"I thought it would be a lot more fun to include some of my people’s festival booths and some food and–”

“Say no more,” said Garo, his lips smacking, “Just the idea of a feast has my lips salivating.”

Of course, the memory of the garo yasumi, or the Festival of the Fanged-Wolf, lives on today, and for almost 800 years, they celebrated the union of Lupin and Doman cultures, living for generations in harmony and security.

For most, these memories would twist and fray, suddenly becoming less and less dependable after a time, to the veracity of the events that happened between Ganen Rijin and Garo, the Lupin leader who would become his friend.

Who knows if even this story is really what happened…

To be continued…

[ace-and-sleepdeprived]

STAR WEAVER - MYRIAM-JADE "MJ" WOLFF - EARTH-171578

[mir-E-ahm jay-d wol-f] 25 - 5'8 - She/Her - Paris, France, 1945 - Biromantic Demisexual - Earth-171578

In a world that is a Van Gogh painting brought to life, Paris in a late 1940s era where WWI and WWII never occurred is a place flourishing with arts of all kinds. Music, art, theatre, you name it, it's main focal point is in the City of Love itself. Myriam-Jade Wolff - better known as just Myriam - is a violinist and singer who spends most of her days writing music and performing in bars and clubs, while also practicing and performing with the prestigious Orchestra de Paris. But when she isn’t in either of those places, she’s Paris’ nighttime vigilante - Star Weaver.

Myriam-Jade Wolff

Independent, hard-working and ambitious, Myriam was taught from a young age that she could do whatever she set her mind to with hard work and genuine passion. As a young girl, she grew an infatuation with music and performance after her mother brought her and her twin brother Leo to their first orchestra concert. Growing up, Myriam never knew her father after he passed shortly before her birth, but she found a father figure in her Uncle Bernard, who was a talented musician and encouraged her dreams of becoming a performer one day. He got her a violin for her 10th birthday and enrolled her in lessons. While her end goal was to achieve the dream of becoming a musician, she got by through working at her mother’s café alongside her brother to keep the family business going.

Unbeknownst to her, Myriam’s life was about to take a drastic turn. One day when she was 15, she was working in the back of the café, gathering supplies from storage. While she was moving the boxes of ingredients, she accidentally swatted down an enchanted Blue Jumping Spider’s web. It fell onto her hand and promptly bit her in retaliation before scuttling away. More annoyed than anything, Myriam took care of the bite and went on with her shift. But the next morning, she’d awake to find the bite had more permanent effects. She could stick to walls, shoot webs from her wrists, and had a sixth sense. But she could also manipulate light from different sources and make herself go invisible. She kept her powers a secret, not daring to tell anyone. But unfortunately, fate would force her hand.

One night, Myriam and Bernard were returning home from the store when they were suddenly attacked by a group of criminals working for the infamous Kingpin, a crime bods who’d been funding the growing hate groups in the underbelly of Paris. Myriam used her powers to web up and trap their assailants, but not before one of them shot her uncle in the chest. Bleeding out onto the street, Bernard told his niece to use the gift she’d received for good, and to use it wisely. After his death, Myriam would take up the mantel of Star Weaver, the defender of the Paris streets from terrible people like Kingpin and his lackeys.

Unfortunately, tragedy would strike once more when she was 18. Her brother, Leo, would die as a result of being caught in the crossfire of a Kingpin raid. His death only fueled Myriam’s desire to protect others as much as she could, and to never turn her back on her family.

For the next seven years, Myriam’s life would start looking up. She’d graduate from the Paris College of Music and become a musician, eventually trying out and being chosen to join the famed Orchestra de Paris. She would achieve her dream of becoming a famed singer and musician, wowing crowds with her beautiful voice and talent on the violin. All the while, she’d still serve the city of Paris as Star Weaver.

But her life would take another turn when one faithful night she’d encounter a strange yet handsome man in a dark blue jumpsuit who claimed to be from another universe.

Face Claim:

Greta Onieogou- Canadian-Nigerian Actress

Spidersuit

Being the Star Weaver, Myriam’s spidersuit looks a lot like the night sky of her universe - so it has a lot of the same elements as the famed Starry Night painting!

The base of the jumpsuit is a deep blue and made of a soft yet durable silk material with light gold web lining all over it. On the suit, there are little clusters or splatters of light yellow and white paint to create the illusion of stars scattered all over her suit - and she wears a light blue waist cape with a silk material that looks starry as well! Her mask has two cat-shaped white eyes surrounded by gold and the illusion of starry freckles on it - reminiscent of her own freckles. She wears two silver north star shaped earrings that are sewn into the mask, and she has a circle star on her forehead. Myriam’s spider symbol is on the back of her suit, and it has two glowing stars forming the abdomen and torso of the spider with waving, light like limbs radiating off of the body. Her spidersuit is made of materials reminiscent of the 1940s glamor dresses, so it’s both fashionable and comfortable for fighting crime.

Abilities

Myriam has all the standard spider powers like webs, stickiness, spider sense, etc, but due to the more magical nature of the spider that bit her, she has a few extra powers. She’s classified as a Weaver spider through her elaborate flips and tricks she does. Like Pavitr, she uses her webs to trap opponents and grab onto debris or citizens to pull them out of harms way quickly. She doesn’t rely on her webs as much for travel, but when the time calls for it, she can web around Paris with ease. One that is purely ornamental is the fact that her eyes change from a dark brown to a soft blue when she’s Star Weaver, even if it’s hard to notice with her mask unless she takes it off or it’s damaged. Myriam’s not entirely sure why her eyes change color, but it doesn’t really bother her. Light Manipulation: Myriam can take light from any kind of source - natural or artificial- and weave it into her webs to make them stronger and brighter. These webs are almost impossible to escape from once light has been incorporated into them, and it’s how she got her namesake, since she can seemingly weave the stars into webs. Quick Jumping & Reflexes: Seeing as she was bit by a Jumping Spider, Myriam can move pretty damn fast. She can easily leap from one building to another in a split second and move too quickly for the human eye to process. One minute she could be on a building, you blink and then BOOM she’s on another one. This skill allows her to travel through the rooftops with ease and speed, allowing her to use her to mainly use her webs to capture opponents. Invisibility: Thanks to her light manipulation abilities, Myriam can make herself go invisible for periods of time to sneak around undetected. This invisibility state can stay for up to four hours, but the only downside is that she cannot use her webs, as doing so would break the cloak and reveal her. She mainly uses this power to sneak up on opponents and capture them quickly.

Style

Being from the 1940s, Myriam LOVES a good skirt and blazer, as well as flared trousers, necklaces, blouses, and a fun hat every once and a while, although she prefers a bandanna.

When it comes to her hair, Myriam prefers to leave it down when she’s at the HQ, although back home she usually keeps it in a bun or ponytail. When she’s performing, she’ll wear simple yet elegant dresses that don’t hinder her movement but allow her to be fancy while performing either by herself or with the orchestra.

Myriam & The Spider Society

Recruitment

As previously mentioned at the end of the beginning part of this post, Miguel was the first spiderperson Myriam ever encountered. Obviously she was very confused at this 6’9 Spanish-speaking man with a hologram shit from the future, and while he spoke English and she could understand him, she was still very skeptical of him - no matter how good looking he might be underneath his mask. The only way Miguel really gained her trust was when he helped her take out an anomaly that had managed to sneak into Earth-171578 while he was trying to convince Myriam to join the Society. She accepted his offer and joined the Spider Society, accompanied by Miguel’s guidance.

Integration

Myriam’s first few weeks on campus were extremely jarring and overwhelming, and not just because of the fancy tech that she’d never seen before. Earth-928 wasn’t a stylized world, and it didn’t have the familiarness of her home world, and it was very confusing for her to learn that not all universes are “stylized” like hers. She was like “What do you mean that my world is ‘stylized?’ Is it not normal for others to look like mine?” Beyond that, she also had to deal with the fact that her world’s timeline is very different from others. Myriam will try to say she’s from 1945 and other spiders will immediately assume her world is at war. Neither WWI or WWII happened in Myriam’s earth, and while she’s well aware of hate groups in her own, she’s extremely shaken by learning what horrors occurred in both. Plus, life in her world is peaceful and prosperous, so she has a bit of a difficult time relating to vintage spiders like Noir and Spiderman-65, although she’s acquaintances with both. The spiders she found the most comfort with were the musical ones, especially those who indulge in more classical styles. It brings her comfort that music is a multiversal thing, and she’ll always be able to find it regardless of where she goes. Regardless, life in the Spider Society is extremely different than life at home, so Myriam is still trying to get used to it all. She chooses to work more administrative roles on campus rather than go on frequent missions - although she’s a valuable asset when called on for one. Although she still has to deal a lot with people mischaracterizing her universe just because of it’s era and timeline.

”Ooh! I love the vintage fit! Where’d you get it?” “..Vintage? This is just a normal outfit, is it not?” “Well, it’s WAY older than anything I’ve ever seen.. wait, are you actually from the 1900s?” “Yes..? It’s 1945 in my world.” “1945? Oh shit, that means you’re in WWII right now? Do you punch Nazis for a living? Do you have to deal with air raids? You sound French so-"

*cue Myriam just wanting to vanish right then and there*

[“why can’t people understand that some universe timelines are different??? not EVERY world has experienced the SAME THINGS-“] -myriam, likely ranting to lyla later.

Role Within the Society

Myriam, although she might not be a scientist or engineer by any means, contributes a lot to the Society both through missions and the duties she does on campus. She's classified as a Weaver Spider under the specifications for each recruit, and she's skilled in creating thick, strong webs to catch anomalies and civilians if there are large crowds present or multiple anomalies in one universe. Seeing as she was recruited and mentored by Miguel, Myriam is a graduate of the Spider Society Education Program - a series of classes for members to take to better contribute to the society. She graduated with specifications in Multiversal Stylization and Alternate Timelines - so she studies and tracks the statuses of heavily stylized worlds and worlds with changes to their timelines, like her own. She's also sent in to recruit spiders from these universes. The work she does is helpful in the recruitment and integration of spiders from stylized worlds and those who have drastic differences in the timeline, mostly because she doesn't want recruits to be as jarred as she was, and for the welcoming into the Society to be a stress-free as possible. Myriam also serves as a '2nd assistant' of sorts for Miguel, although it isn't official by any means. It usually involves her doing physical things Lyla can't - like getting him food, physical files, or just reminding him to take a break every once in a while. Someone has to keep his workaholic ass in check, and Myriam's apparently the only one Miguel tolerates to do that.

Myriam & Miguel

Yes, I ship them. [i can have two ocs and ship them with the same character, they're just in separate timelines okay? okay.]

Since Myriam is from the 1940s and Miguel is still cautious of building close relationships with others due to his past losses, they like taking it slow. Like very slow. It's very agonizing for a lot of people in the Society because it's SO OBVIOUS they're in love with each other but they're both stubborn and shy. They do eventually start dating, but they don't refer to each other as boyfriend or girlfriend, because they simply don't. Dinner dates are a very common occurrence between them and often take place in Myriam's world. Cue Miguel trying to improve his French and Myriam having to translate for him. These dates are often accompanied by Miguel bring a gift of some kind for her, like flowers or chocolates and dropping her off back at her little townhouse. [He HAS to be gentlemanly otherwise Myriam's mom and aunt maria WILL get onto him, they drilled that into his head when they first met him.] Since they're both demi, their relationship is almost entirely romantic and emotional. Myriam's only real attraction to sex is to start a family one day, and Miguel feels that kind of attraction the same way. Even though eventually having kids together is still way down the line, Myriam's desire to be a mom one day has been amplified by having Mayday around on campus. She's just so freakin' cute. At the end of the day, the two of them care deeply for each other and love spending time together in any way they can, and are practically inseperable. [one of their love languages is definitely quality time] The two of them love writing music together, (Myriam's let Miguel embrace his musical side more) exploring both Nueva York and Paris, taking care of Myriam's cats, and planning things for the Society. While they may be taking it slow, they're simply feeling each other out and getting to know the other on the deepest level they can, so that hopefully one day they can build a family and a life together.

[atsv puts a bit of a hole in the road, but they figure it out and that's a post for another day LMAO]

Random Headcanons

As previously mentioned, Myriam has three cats! Their names are Tenor, Alto, and Soprano. (yes, she named them after voice parts, she can be cheesy if she wants to.)

Tenor is a 6-year-old tuxedo tom, Alto is a 4-year-old calico she-cat, and Soprano is a 1-year-old tabby she-cat. They're all former strays that Myriam found and adopted.

Tenor is a tired chill boy, Alto is sassy but loveable, and Soprano is a rambunctious and playful kitten that could spend HOURS batting at Lyla as she glitches around without getting tired.

All three of them were strays that Myriam took in at various points in her life, and they're her babies who she adores very much.

Myriam's violin playing is a lot like Linsey Sterling, considered revolutionary and modern for her era. Her ability to command the instrument with such grace yet strength has allowed her to quickly gain recognition and fame throughout Europe - she's basically a celebrity, although she's able to keep her show life and private life VERY separate. The reality of modern day stars scares her.

Her singing style is a mix of both Jazz and Classical, much of it's influence coming from singers like Ella Fitzgerald and Frank Sinatra.

A lot of spiders like to joke that she's the French female version of him because her songs and style are a lot like his.

Besides playing the violin, Myriam can also play the piano.

She's played the piano for longer, taught by her Uncle Bernard while she was growing up.

Because of this, much of her music is a combination of both piano and string instruments.

Even though she technically is part of the Orchestra De Paris, she is planning about potentially quitting in the future and focusing fully on her solo career.

Buuut she's still trying to find her footing and she's made a lot of friends in the orchestra, so she's not quite ready to leave yet.

Myriam can speak French, English and German fluently! She studied both German and French all throughout school and it has been VERY helpful in her integration process into the Society.

She's rusty on her Spanish though, and it sounds a little funny when she speaks it so she sticks with speaking English outside of her universe.

On the flipside, it is both entertaining and mildly infuriating trying to help Miguel perfect his French.

there have been many instances of second-hand embarrassment and quick corrections when he accidentally butchers a word in public

Miguel gets a decent amount of attention in Myriam's world, seeing as he doesn't have the same painted style as everyone else.

And because he's MASSIVE and obviously not French.

Although something that has become more noticeable about him is that at certain points he appears more in the painted style like Myriam due to visiting her world so often.

He won't go full painted like her, but he does start to take more elements of it like more streaked colors and movements that almost look stop-motion-y.

Besides Miguel, Myriam is close with both Jess and Gwen.

In fact, Myriam's pretty much unofficially adopted Gwen as her daughter, and has become both a mother-figure and mentor figure for the young spiderwoman.

She would very much like to curse out Gwen's dad in French AND English.

Myriam and Jess have been close ever since Myri first joined the Society. Besides Miguel and Lyla, Jess was the main person Myriam really talked and interacted with while at the society. Jess LOVES to tease Myriam about her puppy crush on Miguel, and it's very much a sister-like dynamic between the two of them.

She doesn't like Peter B. very much. She likes Mayday but she just doesn't really like him.

It's more of an 'I acknowledge your existence and NOT because i like you because i tolerate you'

She’s pretty chill with Hobie, even if she can’t fully understand him sometimes due to his thick accent. (and because she's terrified when she learns that he swings his guitar around like a bat)

which is kinda ironic because a lot of people in the society have a hard time understanding her due to her thick accent as well

Myriam's movements are very stop motion like in nature, and her painted design will bleed out around her slightly.

While she still has a spiderverse-esk style to her face and body, she still has the oil painting look to her, and blues are a very prominent color in her world.

most hues are softer in nature in Earth-171578, mainly blues, browns, greys, greens, yellows and oranges. colors aren't traditionally harsh or offputting due to the changes in the timeline.

Tech wise, it’s in the same stages as worlds like Spider Noirs except slightly more advanced because Myriam’s world is a decade ahead.

Myriam's world is pretty peaceful, which is reflective of the soft oil-painted style it has.

However, that doesn't mean that shitty people are nonexistent, so as the Star Weaver she fights those who want to break the peace that's been standing in her world for so long.

Besides music, Myriam absolutely adores cooking and baking as well!

Seeing as her Aunt Maria and Mom still run their little café, baking and cooking have been engraved into her DNA.

She can make some bomb French food as well as family recipes, and her and Miguel bond over that.

Myriam will often make little pastries like croissants or tarts or something that she brings with her to the Society to share.

there always gone in like. 15 minutes.

Myri's always willing to try out recipes the other spiders give her, even if they're a bit of a disaster at first.

her first attempt at empanadas were something else-

dw, she's improved.

She also loves to read! Joining the Society means she has access to the on-campus library that is filled with books in multiple languages from multiple different universes that spiders personally donated!

If she isn't in Miguel's office, she's usually in the library, either reading or working part-time as a librarian in there.

When it comes to her relationships on campus, Myriam's close with the European spiders, especially her fellow French spiders.

They'll eat together in the cafeteria and just ramble about things in French.

She's also close with spiders from more vintage or older set worlds like Noir, since she can relate to them a bit more than the average modern day spider.

Paris rooftops are amazing to jump and web around on, and Myriam loves doing it with Miguel.

partially because she want to help him improve his webslinging and be less reliant on his talons, but also because the city's so goddamn gorgeous in her world. they also do it in nueva york too.

so, late-night webslinging dates are common practice for them.

Their first kiss was after a night of webbing around Paris.

Myriam kissed him while they were sitting and enjoying the view of late-night Paris.

she immediately malfunctions afterwards

he malfunctions too

Myriam attempted to say something coherent but she just ended up skittering back home like 'UHH I HAVE TO GO MAKE SURE THE CATS ARE OKAY ALRIGHT BYE-'

considering she just kissed a guy who's NINE YEARS OLDER THAN HER and her BOSS-

they were both mildly mortified but they get over it fairly quickly

jess and lyla are like 'fucking FINALLY'

[a break so tumblr doesn’t fuck up the formatting lmao]

It takes a while for the message to spread to the rest of the Society but people start to get the memo when Miguel and Myriam vanish together.

they're homebodies, but very much in love.

Myriam's mom, Juliette, likes Miguel very much, even if he's from the future and a little strange. While her Aunt Maria is definitely still figuring out how she feels about her niece's non-French vampire partner, but she doesn't hate him.

If anything, Miguel's accepted into the Wolff family immediately after he starts dating Myriam officially. And he loves it.

It's his first real semblance of a balanced, functional family in a long time.

He’s basically been adopted into the Wolff family even before he put a ring on Myri’s finger.

but he definitely will soon dw

Myriam speaks with a noticeable accent, and she'll still trip up on certain words or sentences in English.

Even though French and Spanish are pretty similar, she's still trying to improve it and perfect it, although she still trips up quite frequently and it's a lil embarrassing.

which will usually lead to her simply speaking English on campus unless she can speak French or German.

While she doesn't officially have a no-kill rule, Myriam doesn't like to do it unless she absolutely has to.

Every once in a while she'll fight someone who will not change from their cruel and unjust ways, and if them living will only bring more suffering onto others, she finds it more merciful to just kill them instead of having to fight them again.

This is primarily directed at Kingpin, who she'd like to kill in a heartbeat for all the suffering he's caused.

Myriam's an absolute sucker for animals. Given that she has three cats, she'll often feed strays and help lost animals find their way back home if she finds them

She basically has the golden touch when it comes to cats, and Spider-Cat has basically become her unofficial companion at the Society. He constantly follows her around when he can, and she's his second go-to person besides Spectacular.

Imagine Myri instead of Spectacular. Yup, that's a daily sight in the Society.

that or her holding him like a baby

A lot of Myriam's days at the Society are spent either working in the campus library or chilling in Miguel's office while listening to French and Spanish music while they talk about various things and crack jokes.

They both have GREAT senses of humor.

although sometimes myri's confused by more 'futuristic' humor (gen z humor confuses her to no end even though it's funny)

Modern things in general still confuse her. She knows how some of them work she just. struggles with grasping the concept of them.

Her and Noir bond over this.

Sometimes she forgets how drastically different her world is in comparison to Miguel's that when he's whiplashed by certain things she's like "??? this is normal why are you freaking out??"

and then she's like OH RIGHT you're from the future. this shit is basically ancient to you huh

which is an existential crisis in of itself but LETS NOT GET INTO THAT-

Myriam likes to dance! While she isn't trained in it by any means she grew up dancing to the radio and to records in her living room.

She dances for fun, and she can keep a good rhythm even if she doesn't do it all the time.

FUCK THIS TOOK WAY TOO LONG. the whole idea of myriam started as a silly post ab a van gogh stylized universe and it snowballed into THIS. god tumblr gave me so much shit while i was making this post-

but anyways this is her!! she's been invading my brain and i adore her dynamic w/ miguel so much - and i adore her background and culture too! france has always been intriguing, especially since i'm currently taking french in school, and the 1940s is a very interesting period of history, even if myriam's version of it is much different.

but most of all i love the style her universe is in! vincent van gogh has always been and always will be one of my favorite artists, and the concept of a whole universe looking like a van gogh painting is just- so cool to think about.

BUT ANYWAYS ENOUGH WITH ME RAMBLING. i hope y'all like her as much as i do, and i promise that i'll be coming out with even MORE spidersonas in the next few weeks as i finish up finals and get to go for a long break!!

bye :))

[azems-familiar]

WoL Thonkers: 6, 7, 14.

6. Who was their Azem? What were they like, and were they different from your WoL? Who were their family, friends? Or, if you don't care for the Azem angle or went in your own direction for their past self, how so? How does your WoL feel about their Ancient identity?

oh man you're asking me theeeee long questions. let's goo

Lelesu's ancient was named Seleukos. you've seen some art of them but if you want to peruse things i tag them the same way i tag her so it should be easy enough to search for. they have two moms, who i haven't yet named - one owns and runs a bakery, and yes, absolutely loves experimenting with new flavors and fillings and things, and one works as a secretary in the Capitol, though i haven't decided which Seat she's affiliated with. they had a pretty good relationship with their parents growing up, and were also close to Helios's parents (though less so with his dad, who was a keywarden in Pandaemonium before an accident there killed him). their absolute best friend is of course Helios, who they're only three months younger than, as well as neighbors with, so the two of them grew up together and basically did everything together as kids since their parents know each other pretty well. Seleukos also has some casual friendships with other kids they grew up around and some of the people they were students with in the Akadaemia Anyder.

obviously, their closest relationships however are with Helios, Hythlodaeus, and Hades - Helios is their best friend and other half, Hythlodaeus is their life partner, and Hades is a wibbly-wobbly nonromantic partner and close friend. they are also good friends with Venat (who was their first mentor), Pashtarot (their second mentor, and Halone (they work together), as well as Themis!

Seleukos is only Azem sometimes, depending on the verse we're in. when they aren't Azem, they work as a traveling judge, and are Pashtarot's confirmed successor, but have not ascended as of the Final Days. no i have not come up with Pashtarot's mask or anything because....yeah. we'll get there eventually.

as for how they're like Lelesu - the two of them are actually pretty similar in many ways. they have a lot of the same personality, similar morals and ideals, and similar fighting styles, though Seleukos relies more on magic than Lelesu does. with all her memories of the past regained as of post-endwalker, Lelesu considers herself a sort of natural extension of Seleukos - not the same person, since they were raised in very different times, but close enough as to not matter terribly much. she takes the legacy she inherited from them very seriously!

originally it was definitely complicated but honestly the reveal that the reason all these confusing feelings she was having about Amaurot and Emet-Selch and Hyth's shade were because of a past identity really did end up being a relief, because it was an explanation.

i could go more into this but. this is probably enough for this post.

7. Have they gone through any physical changes? What scars have they collected, and how do they feel about them? Did they sprout horns or other features as a result of spells or pacts gone wrong? How did light corruption impact them? Or have they walked away miraculously unscathed? Are they more peculiar for how eerily unmarred they are?

yes! though not as many as other wols i know. Lelesu obviously gets some minor scarring and things just from a very active combat life, but three of them are important: the first is a long scar down her torso from Zenos in Rhalgr's Reach, where he left her badly enough injured she had to return to Ishgard for several days of recovery. the second is a thin scar across her cheek and lip that Elidibus-as-Zenos gave her in Ghimlyt Dark when she collapsed. the third is probably the biggest one - when she and Corrain fought Zenos again on Ultima Thule, Zenos shatters her glasses and drives shards into her right eye, scarring the skin around it and blinding her. while the chirurgeons and the fast actions of the Scions saved her eye itself, it's gone totally silver from scar tissue.

she does also have some changes from the Light corruption! previously, her hair was black, and she dyed parts of it a pale green, because she thought it looked neat. after the Light cracked her soul, though, parts of her hair bleached pure white, a white that not only continues to grow in but that can't be dyed over. only a few people know the truth of it and that it isn't just a new color trend for her, and she likes to keep it that way, even though she no longer struggles so much with the changes. they were an uncomfortable reminder when she first got them.

she isn't too terribly upset with the scars, thankfully, but she was worried after Ultima Thule that Aymeric would no longer find her pretty - something he quickly reassured her about.

14. Do you have any headcanons for what happened post-Ultima Thule? What kind of injuries did they suffer, or did they walk it off like a boss? Did they take a lengthy vacation, did you shove a time skip in there before 6.1 hit? Or was it quickly off to the next adventure?

oh boy do i! in fact a whole outline section of them! the tldr version is that there are two years between Ultima Thule and taking the boat to dawntrail. during that two years we fit the void arc, pandaemonium, and myths of the realm, as well as Lelesu having her daughter Ismene. she also takes a month or so to recover from the injuries she sustained on Ultima Thule (addressed in the above question), and needs time to rebuild her strength. while she's recovering, she learns pld and adds it and her new weapons to her arsenal.

6.1 begins 3 months after Ultima Thule. both it and 6.2 happen first, and then Lelesu goes back in time while Corrain is still recovering and does p1-p8, working with Themis, Lahabrea, and Erichthonios. the Garlemald/reaper part (this is 6.3 iirc) happens once she comes back to the present, then p9-p12, then the rest of the trips to the Thirteenth and fights and things. all of this together takes about 9 months, meaning that it all settles down again about a year after Ultima Thule. Lelesu spends the next 6 months helping recovered ancients (Emet, Hyth, a resurrected Elidibus and Lahabrea, and a few of the remaining Ascians whom Emet was able to hunt down and cure of tempering) work on plans to build a "New Amaurot" and teach about their history and culture; she gets married to Aymeric and gets involved with our version of myths of the realm here. Corrain is finally able to walk around again, albeit with crutches/cane. ~6 months prior to dt, Lelesu gets stuck on light activity/etc when she finds out she's pregnant, and there's a decent gap of time here where everyone mostly just rests, recovers, maybe travels a little, and things settle down.

Wuk Lamat shows up to ask about the succession rite when Ismene is a month old!

[wullu]

I watched the first episode of The Story of Park's Marriage Contract.

First of all, who tf came up with that title? So unnecessarily long and unwieldy.

This is the first romcom kdrama have watched in a long time. I kind of forgot that amount of suspension of disbelief you need to have at some of the situations. A girl walking alone in the dark (she's the heroine so I trust that 99 percent of the time nothing horrible/terrible/tragic will happen) but I was still like girlllll, pls have a care.

The other situations I had a hard time digesting were all the oh, let me catch you in a bridal dip by complete accident. And then I realised like I do need to remember that it's part of the kdrama formula and I may not vibe with it but I gotta live with it.

Anyway, a good first episode. It did spend like 20 minutes or so finding it's legs but it's steadiest aspect is most definitely Lee Se Young as Park Yeon Woo. She's a great mix of sheltered and naive, but also wilful and determined and not in the way that makes you want to smack someone. It makes you cheer her on. Or perhaps that is most definitely the Lee Se Young factor.

The second steadiest aspect is the love Yeon Woo's family has for her. And her conversation with her mom. Did I tear up? Yes I teared up. I'm always a sucker for good mother-daughter conversations done well, no matter how painful the conversation.

And I'm not sure if this is a steady aspect, but it's most certainly hilarious. And that's Sa Wol. If Yeon Woo is at a 1000 percent charm offensive, Sawol is at 999 percent. I enjoyed all her scenes with Yeon Woo and separately.

Also poor, poor Joseon Kang Tae Ha. He was really sweet and lovely and you can absolutely see why Yeon Woo gave her heart over completely. I'm not sure how the present day fellow will turn out ( he's already annoyingly pedantic but I suppose if the same issues as the Joseon time persist then he's packing some trauma for sure)

Still, enjoyable first episode. I hope the series sustains the same comedy feel throughout but I also will not hope much. More importantly, let's hope my interest is sustained throughout. 🥲

That way, I can still be like, why yes, I absolutely do still have a "I am kdrama fan" card.