#yzeltia

[yzeltia]

NovemberDWC 2022 Day 5

Title: Damage

Characters: Carter Summers

Rating: T for Temper

"Too angry and volatile. Not ready for the front lines."

Carter crushed the review in his hand then threw it at the wall. Rejected for deployment again with the same throw away comments. Of course he was angry. His elder brothers might have forgotten their home, but he hadn't. Even if he was barely a boy when they'd left. 

He huffed as he pulled out his soul stone, watching it pulse I his hand, wondering why they wouldn't want to put his wrath to use. His ferocious love for home and country that fueled every heavy swing of his sword. 

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

desertwalkers-- (masterpost)

wake up babes new au just dropped (with @saesama 's Klynt and @dapperpea 's Archon)

the rail baron, gaius baelsar

wild weird west, xiv style

the stranger woman (written by @driftward )

the preacher's boys (starring @dapperpea's Archon

investigations (written by @chysgoda )

sacred datura (starring @saesama 's Klynt, NSFW)

bylti (starring @scalefeathers 's Bylti)

baby rattler

pianoman (written by @saesama , Ement is co-owned by her and @driftward )

pianoman, continuation (written by @dapperpea )

expansion roll up (written by @driftward)

lucky break (starring @scalefeathers 's Bylti)

roadside encounter

cross the line

heliotrope (written by @saesama )

a stranger comes to town (starring @scalefeathers 's Moku Shiroku)

the engineer in the machine (written by @driftward )

the woman who was (written by @driftward )

attempted ambush

smutty sacred datura pics (NSFW, done by @saesama )

the bishops

the bounty hunter

the sadlers

the original adventurre of Rrhan the Ridin' Lion (written by @yzeltia )

the west gets weird (written by @temperjoke )

the further adventurres of Rrahn the Ridin' Lion (written by @yzeltia )

el muerto enamorado (written by @yzeltia )

valusk, redefined (written by @dapperpea )

evidentiary: part one (written by @chysgoda

untapped potential (written by @dapperpea )

unleashed (written by @eorziapple )

[hinganskies]

Some Suggestions for FFXIV blogs to follow.

@miqomischief @elfie-kitten @sasslett @ae-fond-seeker @furys-mercy @dedicatedtomoonlighting @dragonsongmakhali @scholarlostintime @pinxli @briar-ffxiv @houserosaire @cadrenebula @captainkurosolaire @finishing-touch @aroseyetbloomedwrites @gigifujijifu @healersadjust @ievaxol @irisopranta @kaitontenchu @laladventures @naejlas-axe @ooeygooeyghoul @pangolinheart @risrielthron @scales-claws-and-thorns @talion-graves @the-unending-journey @uldahstreetrat @umbralaether @xiv-wolfram @yukiotacon @yzeltia @superiorthaumaturge @spotofmummery @ffxivxd @ainyan @placesyoucallhome @tallbluelady

There are lots of others, but I can’t remember how to spell all of them on phone!

oh wow thank you so much this is so helpful and already so much more welcoming than reddit 😭❤️

I had no idea there was such a big community here hello everyone!

[driftward]

@yzeltia sent me an ask of "18) a/b/o (Zoisette/Y'shtola)" but sent it to my main blog. Answer here, but I have to apologise to Y'zel here.

I have nothing against Omegaverse, but it is kind of outside my usual wheelhouse, and there's no ideas in it I really want to explore. My apologies! Your ask shall have to go, essentially, unanswered. But I appreciate the question, anyroad.

(an AU, obviously) ~*~

Travel was simply the worst.

Y’shtola stood on the pier, waiting for the ferry that would take her to Vesper Bay. She stood, back ramrod straight, head up, hand firmly on her staff, staff planted firmly to the ground. She was composed at all times, as a woman of culture had to be, but during this most difficult time, she was especially composed.

Her body wanted one thing. She, however, wanted quite nothing to do with that.

And others, well, they wanted her.

It was unfortunate that she was a Miqo’te as well. Their people had a decidedly lopsided gender and modality presentation compared to most. More women, and most of those women Omes, like Y’shtola herself. Of course, it was just hormones, perhaps a slight shift in temperament, a difference in what role they played in having children. But the reputation was that a Miqo’te Ome woman was nearly always in heat, and nearly always sexually available.

And it seemed that society at large had settled on the conceptual idea that they were definitely always sexually desirable.

She could almost feel the oppressive wave as someone approached her on the dock, and she tilted her head only slightly to watch as a Hyur woman wandered up to her, eyes dilated, with a small, lazy smile on her face.

“Which way are you going, sweetheart?” she said, her voice thick. Y’shtola could feel the tenseness in the air, the gentle pull. Almost certainly an Alak in heat.

“My own way,” she said, tersely, lifting up a hand to palm the woman’s face and push her away. 

The other woman looked offended, even as she stepped back. “Well, no need to be that way about it,” she growled, beginning to move off.

“I might be interested,” a voice piped up, this one belonging to a Roegadyn man. The Hyur eyed him before moving off in a huff, leaving him looking dejected and Y’shtola amused. Well, biology might have its say, but the whims of humanity always took the yoke to steer the actual ways of the world.

The others on the pier, whatever their modality or state, were polite, and kept their distance. There were a few other Miqo’te women huddled together who looked over at the commotion, and they looked at each other before coming to the combined decision of making their way over casually. Still chatting with one another, acting as though they were not really paying attention, but soon they were near enough to Y’shtola to serve as a kind of buffer.

She caught the eye of one and gave a small acknowledging nod. The effort was hardly necessary, as she knew how to take care of herself. If not with sharp words, then her staff and magicks would certainly do. But she would not dissuade such help as it was offered, and it was a kind of shared social nicety her people shared with one another. Look out after one another, fight for one another, each taking their turn as others may have been hobbled, and thus they could form their own destiny, despite whatever opinions modalities might have had on the matter.

As she waited she heard, rather than saw, someone else approaching, their footsteps heavy. The other Miqo’te women glanced at each other and towards this new person nervously. Not yet intervening. Y’shtola turned, and smiled, and made sure to greet the newcomer, to make it obvious that they were friends.

“Zoissette!” she said, holding a hand out to meet them. Zoissette gave that strained smile of theirs in return. The nearby Miqo’te women visibly calmed, and returned to more casual chatting.

“Y’shtola,” said Zoissette, taking and shaking her hand firmly before letting go. A tall Elezen woman. A fellow Ome, like herself. A military woman from the far North, clad nearly always in heavy armor. Preferred to keep her distance, but a friend for all that. Y’shtola had come to appreciate her as a comrade in arms over the past many summers.

Y’shtola took a deep breath in, and felt that warmth of aether that hinted at how Zoissette might be just this moment. She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Heat?’ she asked. It would have been a rude question under most circumstances, but Zoissette was near as kin, and hesitated only slightly before nodding.

Well. It seemed they would be in the same boat while on the same boat for this voyager. Y’shtola was relieved. Though she would not wish such a state of matters on anyone, if they were both likewise miserable, at least the company of one another might serve to soothe it.

“Alright! Prepare for boarding! You all know how this works!” called out the dock worker, a burly Roegadyn man yelling over the hum of the crowd. “If you’ve got luggage call, get it to the porters or carry it yourself! If you’re an Ome, we got a single sealed room below decks if you wish to avail yourself of it, priority to those in heat! Bets and bonded, you’ve got the run of the place, just behave yourselves. If you’re an Alak, you’re stayin’ topside, that goes double if you’re in rut! Either way Alaks, give each other some space, and if you get in a fight, whinin’ to th’ captain about how hot your blood is won’t save you from the magistrate - if she’s feelin’ kind! If she’s not, it certainly won’t save you from the drink, so keep your hands to yourself!”

“That will be us, then,” said Y’shtola. “Care to share a space?”

She glanced over to see Zoissette suddenly digging for a notebook. The other woman flipped through it rapidly, and then began to trace a finger down the page, frowning deeply to herself.

Y’shtola snuck a glance. It appeared to be a list of time tables, weights and dosages.

Odd.

“I, uhm, just remembered,” said Zoissette, snapping the notebook shut and putting it away. “The Admiral wanted me to make a report before returning.” She looked to the dockworker, and waved a hand. “Excuse me! I think I need to take the next ferry! Can that be arranged?”

Y’shtola tried not to look too disappointed as the porter eyed Zoissette before yelling back to the ferry coordinator. “Hey! We got a flopper here! Can we swing her?”

The coordinator looked something up, shook their head, shrugged, and yelled back. “We got space on the next one and the fourteener!”

The dock worker looked to Zoissette. “Which one you want, then? Swing back by at twelve or fourteen bells?”

“The twelver should be fine, thank you.”

“Alright then. Get off with you, be back for that one or else your fare’s forfeit, got it?”

“I understand.”

“Great, get outta here.” The dock worker turned to yell again. “She’s taken the twelver!”

“Sorry,” said Zoissette to Y’shtola, at least having the decency to look sheepish.

“’Tis of no great matter,” said Y’shtola. “I will simply have to endure the Ome cabin in relative solitude. You shall make it in time for your briefing, I hope?”

“Yes. More than enough time.”

“Very well. I shall see you in Vesper Bay.”

Zoissette just nodded before heading back up the pier, and Y’shtola readied herself to board the ferry. As she did so, she thought of how odd the whole exchange was. Zoissette was a woman who prided herself on planning and organization. How did she manage to forget a meeting with the Admiral?

Such thoughts were pushed out of her mind, however, as she boarded the ferry.

The Ome cabin was not so much a cabin, as much as it was a tiny corner of the hold that had been partitioned off. It was less a nicety, and more a necessity. While one’s modality did not necessarily have to dictate one’s behaviour, too many people leaned into it, and allowed it to lead wheresoever it might. In the tight confines of a ship, that meant close proximity to Alaks could frequently drive Omes to heat, and Alaks themselves might let themselves into the blood fire and fall to violence. Bets often tried to manage the tangle of emotions, aether, and hormones, keeping the peace, and that was made simpler by keeping Alaks topside in the sea breeze, and Omes relatively isolated below decks.

It was a cramped space, guarded by a single male Lalafell at the door, probably a Bet. That race, in particular, had strong cultural norms around modalities, and supposedly had a keen sense of what state others were in. These attributes allowed them to be seen as fair, and lent them the history to build the trade empire of Ul’dah. Whether any of it was true or not, they were generally trusted with this kind of task. This one had simply looked Y’shtola up and down briefly before waving her in.

Many of the Miqo’te women who had kept close to her on the pier were here, now, and there were others aside. A Roegadyn male sat in one corner, his arms wrapped around his legs, facing away from the group, his head bowed. Two Omes, obviously deep in heat, were off to one side, pawing weakly at one another and necking half-heartedly in an attempt to stave off the hunger by tending to it as best as they could. Others were in a tight cluster, playing a game of some sort, trying to keep themselves distracted.

Y’shtola herself found a hammock near the entrance close to the top, and climbed up into it, laying down on her back, tail tucked and held between her thighs. She held her staff tightly to her chest, and stared at the ceiling, and tried not to think of the itch, of the need pulling at her even now. Slow, deep breathing, keeping herself as calm as she could manage under the circumstances, even as she lay with her body rigid.

One week of it, that she had to deal with this hateful biology. One week of being watched hungrily. Of others with lesser control seeing her as little more than a snack. One week of feeling a sharp edge to everything, sensitive to every little movement, nerves feeling raw and exposed.

And another hour to port.

She disembarked quickly in Vesper Bay, and managed to avoid any would-be boorish suiters that may have picked up on her current state as she made her way to the Waking Sands. A sympathetic look from Tataru on her way in, and at last, she was safe, from others, from herself. The Waking Sands was always a safe haven. They had the usual mix of peoples here, men and women, Alaks Bets and Omes alike, but they were respectful of one another, knew where they stood with one another.

They all showed up at the appointed time to the scheduled meeting, of course. Minfilia took charge at first, gathering reports from happenings over the last season. Y’shtola looked around, and as was usual when she was in such a bothered state, she found it difficult to keep her thoughts away from ruminating on modalities, on how it affected them all, and her most of all.

Of course, everyone knew that modality was merely suggestion, not destiny, but social and cultural norms and rules and stories persisted despite that. But here, the Scions were each like to make and follow their own destinies, make their own rules, despite whatever role society thought they each should play, despite whatever opinions their hormones might try to sway.

Minfilia was perhaps as typical as they came. An Alak, with the supposed natural leadership qualities that came to them. She was yet unbonded, but also sought no bond nor even mate, placing the mission above all. A sentiment Y’shtola well understood.

If Minfilia was a typical Alak, then Urianger was perhaps the most atypical one. The man was more content to stay back, in the shadows, to offer support to his fellows. He also remained unbonded and, if he found mates to quell his rut, he did not share the tidbit of with whom, how, or when with any. Well, possibly Thancred knew, as they treated with one another as brothers.

Speaking of, Y’shtola knew Thancred would be game for scratching this particular itch she had. As a Bet, he was reasonably flexible in how he could approach the matter, and they were long and close friends. She considered it, but dismissed the thought for the time being. The time on the ferry had taken its toll, and she was more frustrated than amorous just now.

Speaking of people willing to scratch itches, Klynt was a Bet. In theory. In practice, well. While the Scions did not pay any particular heed to matters of modality outside of questions of practicality, Klynt practically lived in them. Somehow. All at once. Y’shtola had seen her display the aggressiveness of an Alak in rut as well as the hunger of an Ome in heat. If most of them bucked the social narrative, Klynt did so as well, in the opposite direction by somehow embracing all narratives at once. And enthusiastically, as often as she could get away with. Y’shtola often wondered how she found the time. But though the offer had been made, Y’shtola had abstained, for reasons of her own.

Papalymo, another Bet. The Bets among the Scions, she considered, perhaps met social and cultural norms more than any other of the Scions. But they were afforded such flexibility, often looked over by society at large, by being the uninteresting in-betweens and go-betweens. They could mate and they could breed, but their role was to fit any role, while being exceptional at none. At least, so society would say. Personally, Y’shtola found Papalymo to be a stalwart companion and a more than capable leader, which was well. It would take a strong personality such as his to overcome his traveling partner, Yda, an Alak. They were not bonded and they did not mate, but they were tight friends, closer than kin. And if Minfilia exemplified the leadership that was supposed to be the birthright of Alaks, then Yda exemplified their supposed headstrong nature, often barreling into trouble without much of a thought of how to barrel back out. Much to Papalymo’s chagrin.

Arenvald was an Ome, but Y’shtola only knew that for having worked with the man for a while. He had all the supposed hallmarks of a Bet, and carried himself as much as such, often even lamenting that he wished that he truly was a Bet, if for no other reason than to get rid of the periodic annoyance that Ome life brought with it. In this, Y’shtola found solidarity with the young Hyur.

The twins were not here today, and were too early in their growth for their modalities to become apparent. And Nyx was Nyx, outside of the gender and modality cycle altogether. Though Y’shtola, if pressed, would have to admit a certain feeling of satisfaction in how they had handled, more than once, the error of someone assuming that they were a ready and willing Miqo’te Ome woman.

That left Y’shtola herself, an Ome, naturally. She also bucked the trend. She would never have been meek nor submissive, and she did not give in to base hunger. The other Scions oft looked to her for guidance, recognizing her leadership qualities, especially when it came to keeping them focused and on task, or in her particular fields of expertise. No, she was an Ome to be certain, but fit not one single stereotype that such modality brought with it.

Well, there was one other.

Zoissette, who was now taking charge of the meeting. Zoissette was an Ome, and she too defied stereotype. A natural leader, but not in the way Alaks were meant to be, but in the way Bets often were. Listening to the group, offering feedback, gracious when wrong, stalwart when right. A woman with a curious nature about her, always checking in with the others. And no, not quite right. She was also a leader at least one of the ways society held Alaks to be. She lead from the front, almost always wearing that heavy armor of hers, ready and willing to put herself between those she cared for, and those who would do harm to them or others.

Y’shtola watched, practically transfixed, oddly, almost as though she was distracted by Zoissette. Which was simply absurd, as Zoissette was meant to be the focus of attention just now, leading her part in the meeting. How could one be distracted by the lead speaker? Y’shtola watched, as she talked strategy, outlined upcoming plans, and took questions.

And she felt a pang of sympathy at how obviously tense Zoissette was. Being in the middle of heat was a pain they both shared just now. Y’shtola had mastered the art of almost being casual in how she handled it, her control iron. Zoissette’s control was likewise sacrosanct, but Y’shtola had learned to recognize her tells. The way her shoulders were higher than normal. The way she glanced around a room, not with her ordinary speed, but with almost a sharpness to her glances. The way she kept her distance even more than she normally did.

If anyone else noticed, they were too polite to point it out, and as obvious as it was to Y’shtola, that did not mean it was truly fully obvious at all. Zoissette finished her part, and shortly after, Minfilia closed out the meeting, promising that final instructions would be waiting for everyone with Tataru in the morning. The group filed out, and Y’shtola went to go find Urianger, wishing to speak with him further.

As she approached him, however, she felt that oppressive pressure radiating off of him, luring her in as much as she also felt a well trained counter pressure to avoid it. He smiled at her, apologetically, as she approached, and she stopped to give him a polite distance.

“Ah, Urianger, I meant to ask after your most recent aetherological findings…”

“And I would be best pleased to deliver them, my lady, were it not for my desire to tend to some prior arrangements of mine.”

He bowed, respectfully, and she returned his gesture with a curtsy. Well, cycles did not necessarily line up often, but in an organization the size of the Scions that met so regularly, they were like to do so sooner or later. It seemed this would be one of the more delicate times to be around the Waking Sands.

“Then allow me not to detain you,” she said. “My well wishes with you, my friend.”

“And mine upon thee,” he said, his smile now extremely grateful, as he excused himself and left.

Y’shtola sighed, and shook off the wave that came over her as he passed, clearing her head. Well. This was proving to be a more trying day than even the way these sorts of days usually were.

She eschewed further pleasantries, and went to her own room. A shower, to help her feel better, and knock down some of the pheromones. A change of clothes to accomplish much the same. Some water, and some time alone, just breathing, trying not to think overmuch about anything.

Being alone during this time was always difficult, however. Lonely. Itchy. She found herself wishing for a distraction. She reconsidered finding Thancred and bending his ear. If he was amenable, it might do much to alleviate her symptoms, for a time.

Instead, her mind drifted to the thought she had had earlier in the day. Commiseration with someone else with whom she could share this exact experience just now. Making her decision, she looked herself over in the mirror, made sure she was more than presentable, and shortly, found her way to just outside Zoissette’s room.

She knocked, and the door opened just a crack. Y’shtola looked up into a single Elezen eye, that seemed to be slightly glassy.

Trick of the light, perhaps.

“Archon Y’shtola?”

“Good eve, Zoissette. I was hoping for some company this evening. As in that proverb which has much to say about misery,” she half-joked.

Zoissette opened the door a little bit further, and stuck her head out in the hallway. “Uhm. Are you certain?”

“Quite certain, unless you’ve made other arrangements?”

Y’shtola would not pry, if so. But if Zoissette had ever had even the slightest interest in mates or bonds, she had never indicated such.

“I… have not,” she said, oddly reluctant, pulling back to look behind her at something that Y’shtola could not see.

“If you wish, I might take my leave, and shall harbor no ill will towards you for such.”

“No! No. That is… that is okay. No, uhm. Please! Come, uhm, come on in,” said Zoissette, opening the door and stepping to one side.

Y’shtola walked in.

Zoissette was not in her armor for once, which was unusual. Even prior times when Y’shtola had had cause to stop by late in the eve, Zoissette had always been in her armor, even in her private quarters. An Ishgardian custom, Y’shtola had assumed. But even armor required maintenance, and Y’shtola saw it across the room, arranged out on what looked to be an alchemy table of sorts.

And she had rarely even seen the inside of Zoissette’s room, much less been in it. They were good sized quarters, as were those of all Scions. A kitchenette, with a small stove and sink. Table, with a few chairs for guests. Icebox. A few shelves for storage. A personal space, where the aforementioned armor pieces and alchemy set were, along with many bookshelves.

And two doors, one of which Y’shtola knew would lead to a bedroom, and another to a washroom. And each room, including this one, would have a window, which Zoissette now quickly ran over to open.

Y’shtola watched, curious.

“I do not mean to question my host so immediately in the eve, but to open the window at such late hour? The Ul’dah desert will grow swiftly cold in another bell or two.”

“Yes, well, uhm. You know. Uhm. I am from the North, you know. We, uhm. Like it. Cold. So! If it is alright, I would like to, uhm, leave the window open. For a while. We can close it later. Would you like some tea?”

Y’shtola took a seat at the little kitchen table, and tried to give Zoissette a reassuring smile.

“I would be best pleased at some tea, yes.”

“Good! Great,” said Zoissette, going over and putting the kettle on. She quickly set up part of the tea set for Y’shtola, keeping a tea cup for herself, and then went back to the stove, to hover near it rather than sitting with Y’shtola.

“My apologies. I seem to have caught you quite unawares.”

“No, no, it is… fine. This is fine. I understand.” Zoissette laughed, nervously. “Ah. Hormones, right? They make everything more difficult.”

Y’shtola sighed deeply. “They do indeed. I noted that you tended to spend such time alone, which I can only well imagine may be taxing. I hope company shall ease the passage of time.”

Zoissette looked over at her curiously. “You tend to spend the time alone as well.”

“Quite so. I am close with my fellow Scions, but ’tis not the same.”

“I do not understand, I do not think?”

“Well. I certainly do not know how you handle such affairs in Ishgard. But it is not uncommon for many Miqo’te of the Sun Seeker tribes to choose to find solidarity among our fellow Omes. Those who are not in heat provide what support and comfort to those who are. It is… not the same, of course, as actually mating. But physical contact and a place of belonging, of safety, can do much.”

Zoissette frowned, lightly, rubbing the back of her neck as the kettle began to steam.

“I guess it is the same in Ishgard,” she said, slowly. “Omes have their own barracks, when such an affordance can be made. Separate tents, at least, when in the field. Alaks and Bets share space. It is not a problem unless someone is in rut, and even that is just considered, you know, bonus exercise and training if they are extra stroppy about it.”

“I see. Well, then you and I are alike, in that regard. Choosing to be alone, away from home as we are. I hope, then, that you will accept my company in the spirit with which it has been offered.”

The tea kettle was now boiling, and Zoissette prepared her own cup, before beginning to set up the rest of the full tea set in front of Y’shtola on the table. Sugar, cream, the teapot itself, and the leaves with the steeper. She quickly prepared her own cup, and moved to go sit in the window sill, glancing over at the alchemy table along her way.

“I find I am glad for it,” Zoissette said, once she was seated, clasping the cup of tea with both hands, staring at it. “Thank you for thinking to keep me company. I appreciate it. And you.”

“We are long friends by now, are we not? Speaking of, if we are to spend the evening together, we might drop the formalities, if you are amenable. You may simply call me Shtola.”

“Are you sure? That would be alright?”

Y’shtola laughed. “I am quite certain. I view us as rather close comrades, now.” She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath in of her tea.

Zoissette nodded, and took a careful sip of her own tea. Again, she glanced at the alchemy set, but then settled her gaze over on Y’shtola.

“Can I ask a rude question?”

“You may.”

“Why not Thancred? Unless I have read the situation very wrong, I am pretty certain he would. Uhm. You know. Be more than happy to. Uhm.”

“Tumble with me for all we are both worth?”

“I did not want to say it outright.”

“And thus, I did. I am impressed at how a woman who knows so much vocabulary for such perverse wordplay can suddenly be so shy.”

Zoissette coughed, and Y’shtola laughed, feeling a slight tension bleed away.

“My apologies! I do tease. But heat does bring with it such awkwardness, does it not? I would cut through it. You are right, however; I might have spent the time with Thancred, true. But we have not shared such in some time. And I am finding that I feel I would prefer to be here with you instead. As I said, two women alike in distance and solitude. We can bemoan our terrible fate together, and spend the time in pleasant company. I was hoping it might soothe my humors. And, truth be told, yours as well.”

Y’shtola sipped at her tea, slowly, closing her eyes to savor the flavor and the scents. The warmth flowed through her, despite the tinge of cold beginning to enter the room, she felt as though a weight was lifted, the tension and annoyances of the days beginning to melt away.

She felt safe and comforted here.

Several long minutes in companionable silence passed, Y’shtola enjoying her tea, and Zoissette clasping hers in both hands, taking small, furtive sips. Y’shtola smiled, sympathetic. Zoissette was wearing nothing but her cotton gambeson and slops to match, which would be poor proof against Ul’dah night.

“Does it help?”

“Does what help?”

“The cold. I have heard that works for some. A distraction for nerves on edge. Or a deep ice, to melt away against the pressure of heat.”

Zoissette looked at her tea, and glanced between Y’shtola and the alchemist equipment.

“It helps,” she said.

Y’shtola nodded, and leaned back in the chair, looking up at the ceiling. “Terrible, this burden of biology that reduces so many to mere beasts. The never-ending call of nature, to the forwarding of species and generations.”

Zoissette just watched, quiet. “How do you handle it?” she asked.

“With confidence and strength. ’Tis a pull, as you know, but no more. A suggestion. It can be trying, though. But I care not to be the sort of person who yields merely because the call exists. If I do bend, it shall be of mine own will, or not at all. I suspect you to be a woman after my own heart, are you not?”

“…perhaps,” said Zoissette, quietly.

Y’shtola leaned forward, interested. “And what of you, who keeps your distance? Who even now is practically unclothed, bereft of your usual armor? I have seen how you become more tense when the heat comes upon you. How are you holding up?”

Zoissette glanced once more over at the alchemy equipment, then quickly downed her tea, and cleared her throat.

“Poorly I think. I am afraid I do not have that same confident nonchalance about the matter as you do,” she admitted, matter of fact. “And actually, if you will forgive my terrible rudeness just now. I… I think I need a shower.”

“Not at all, my friend. Take your time.”

Zoissette nodded, and abandoned her spot in the window, closing it before she quickly walked over to dispense of the last of her tea in the sink. She swanned around the room, quickly grabbing a change of clothes and the things she would need in the bath, then disappeared behind the door that led to the washroom.

Y’shtola hummed thoughtfully in her absence, understanding. She herself found that frequent showers and bathing and cleaning rituals helped through her own heat, and would not begrudge Zoissette the same. This evening had hardly been planned, after all.

She finished her tea, and set it aside, beginning to wander around the room. She knew well Zoissette’s many interests already, and was not surprised to see them represented here. Many were the bells they had wiled away, talking about aetherology, and the tools of that discipline were neatly organized in a case. Books of Nymian mathematics lined her shelves, almost as many salvaged from Nym as there were recent publications from popular journals. She smiled at an astrolabe, remembering fondly a night when Urianger had deigned to join them in a discussion on astrology.

And then there was her armor. She had almost never seen Zoissette outside of it, but here it was now. Probably just the chance night that she had removed it for the kinds of maintenance such things would need. And the alchemy equipment. Unusual, that Zoissette did not simply avail herself of the well stocked alchemy lab that existed elsewhere in the public spaces of the Waking Sands. This set appeared to be nearly finished distilling some concoction or another. Curious, Y’shtola picked up the notebook nearby, and began to flip through it.

Aetherochemistry notes. Lists of masses, reactivities, time tables, potencies. Long equations, experiment notes, theories, experiment failures and successes. Notes on samples collected from various fauna, at various points in their life and reproductive cycles.

Pheromones.

Y’shtola found herself getting lost in the notebook, now. The science of pheromones was well known, of course. Well enough known that there were many laws in place against the production of Alak pheromones and hormones that would induce or increase the rut. Society had decided, as a whole, that an Alak trying to artificially increase the fire in their blood or their supposed attractive qualities that could send Omes into heat or unduly influence them was the sort of thing that would not be tolerated. Alchemicals that suppressed heat were more accepted, but only barely, the social stigma against the one having an unfortunate knock-on effect on the acceptance of the other.

This was not that, however. Pages and pages of notes of how to possibly suppress the Alak pheromone output. Of how to adjust hormones to be more neutral in their expression. Experiments of neutralizing, of how to come to be Bet like were approached, rejected. Health concerns. Notes of how to counter, then, to instead go opposite and produce Ome hormones, of how to mimic the pheromones of an Ome in heat, were more successful, more filled out.

Ultimately it seemed to tell the story of how to hide that one was an Alak at all, and instead, for all purposes, seem to society to be an Ome.

“So now you know,” said Zoissette, her voice resigned, and Y’shtola put the notebook down quickly and turned around, startled.

Zoissette had come out of the bathroom quietly enough. She was dressed, a clean shirt and simple linen slops on, and naught else, hair still wet. She ran a hand through it now, with a forced casualness that would have fooled nobody, and moved around Y’shtola, keeping her distance, moving back to the window to open it again.

“You are an Alak,” said Y’shtola. It was not a question.

“I am,” said Zoissette, making no attempt at denying it.

Y’shtola looked back to the notebook. The alchemical set up, which had now finished its distillation, the results of its output in a flask with an applicator. The armor, set up nearby, which Y’shtola now reached for and inspected.

Soft spongy pouches in various parts of its padding. A way to keep chemicals for a few days, perhaps, the heat of the body wearing the armor causing them to become volatile, and spread slowly over time. And two layers to the padding, the sponges in the outer layer, the inner layer perhaps treated in such a way as to readily absorb oils from the skin, and suppress pheromones and smells that would otherwise make their way out.

Y’shtola looked at Zoissette, frowning.

“But why? Why hide such a thing?”

Zoissette pulled herself up into the window sill, and sat, looking out.

“I do not want to be an Alak,” she said.

“Obviously.”

“I do not like it. I did not like it, when I was a knight-captain in Ishgard. Having to break up stupid fights. Being expected to be a participant in stupid fights for trophies I did not want. Not being sure if a third of my soldiers followed me because I was right, or just because they felt like I might smell right.”

“You and I both know that smell is not even the greater part of the equation, even if we stick strictly to how people feel about one another.”

“Sure, okay, or if they thought I had a good leadership aura from my aether. Or just because Alaks are ‘meant to lead’, and look, there I was in a leadership position. Forwarding the righteous cause of the Holy See.”

“Bets and Omes also have leadership positions in most nations. Most forward thinking nations who look past the vagaries of aetherochemistry, anyroad.”

“Ishgard is not that nation. And even if it was, I also had a duty to my House, to the war. A spear is meant to sire, to do their part. And doing my part would mean siring shields and quivers for a bloody war effort that has not seen its end in generations and will not anytime soon. And! To hopefully produce a spear or two in turn, to continue the grand traditions of our sons and daughters of all modalities, more spears, more shields, more quivers. More bodies, to feed our enemies.”

Y’shtola blinked, taken aback by the unexpected bitterness in Zoissette’s tone.

“Is that why you left?” she asked. Zoissette almost always avoided talking about her home, and the Scions, Y’shtola included, had respected that.

“No. I left because my brother turned heretic. By taking responsibility and accepting exile, I spared my House the shame. And more importantly, a possibly terminal, bloody end.”

Zoissette shrank, the tenseness in her muscles causing her to pull in as the fight left her almost as quickly as it had come upon her. Instead of her shoulders going up, she tucked them in, and flexed her hands into fists in front of her.

Y’shtola glanced between her and the alchemy set.

“Then why all this? Surely you have found Eorzea more enlightened than your home.”

“Have I? You still need to sequester down in an isolated cabin space on the ferry.”

Y’shtola had no answer for that. Zoissette shook her head, and left the window, moving towards Y’shtola, but stopping a distance away.

“Please give me some space. I would like to drink my potion and re-treat my armor.”

Y’shtola, after a moment, moved out of the way.

“That is why you would not travel with me,” she said. “You were nearing the end of the efficacy of your potion.”

“Yes. And I have had some difficulty procuring some of the ingredients lately,” said Zoissette, quietly, grabbing the prepared flask.

“Hold a moment, if you kindly.”

Zoissette paused, and looked over her shoulder at Y’shtola.

“We have oft talked before, about modality and gender and society.”

Zoissette nodded, slightly. “It seems to weigh heavily on your mind whenever you are in heat. Reasonable, really,” she said, tensely. “It can be hard to think about anything else, right? Trying to maintain focus despite the hormones. Your heat. My blood fire. We may be coming at it from different starting positions, but I do understand.”

Y’shtola shook her head. “Then why continue the farce? You well understand where I stand - where all us Scions stand. We would not hold your modality against you. Nay, I would fain say we would embrace it wholly, as another part of you. Same as we already do for one another. Same as I thought we had been doing all along.”

Zoissette looked at the flask she was holding in her hand.

“I do not like it,” she said. “Maybe it was because of how I was treated in Ishgard. Maybe it is because I see the effects of it in the peoples of the society that surrounds us. But… Shtola. I do not want to be some… monster. I do not want to think about how I am influencing the minds of those around me simply by -being-. If people follow me, if they trust me, I want it to be - because they want to. Not because of some quirk of natural chemistry compelling them.”

She made a fist, grinding it into the tabletop. “And I certainly do not want to get in stupid avoidable fights with people whose minds are too clouded by blood fire to step back and allow their better sense to maybe keep them from doing something stupid.”

“You are no monster.”

“But even as we speak, I am in rut,” said Zoissette, choking slightly with the effort she was putting into controlling herself. “And look at me. You came here for companionship. What companionship can I offer, Y’shtola? I stand here, and thoughts of you drown me. I want to look into your eyes but I want to stare at your breasts. I want to talk with you, but I also want to feel your body, feel your heat. I want to touch you deeply. You are, I find you, my closest friend. And so I feel these things about you more strongly than I would any other.”

Zoissette took a deep breath in, throaty, and let it out, shuddering.

“I want to be a person, not this thing.”

Her body was tense. Her muscles, like cables. Her form, tall and imposing and powerful. Her voice, commanding and melodious. Her intent was good, but perhaps wanting. Her perspective shaped by her life.

“We are not only our modalities, but our modalities are part of us,” said Y’shtola. “You will not act in any way you do not wish, nor shall I.”

Zoissette gritted her teeth. “Is that you or the hormones talking?”

“A false dichotomy, for ’tis both. I am not separate from them, no more than I am separate from mine own hand. I control myself to my own ends, but I also allow that control at my own behest, as I wish.”

Y’shtola took a cautious step closer, and Zoissette whirled to face her, backing against the table.

“You are quick to tell me what you believe your blood sings to you,” said Y’shtola, her voice quiet, patient. “But what does Zoissette Vauban want.”

Zoissette stared, as Y’shtola stepped closer to her, one step at a time. And as she did so, Y’shtola understood what she had felt all this evening. Despite her efforts otherwise, Zoissette had been having an effect on her.

And Y’shtola had already accepted that, on some level. She still felt comfortable in this space, in her own skin, with Zoissette. She felt warm, and relaxed, and safe. She felt that close companionship she had sought, she just now fully recognized the form it was taking.

“Tell me to go, and I shall respect your wishes,” said Y’shtola. “But consider asking me to stay, and perhaps we might both reap the benefits of one another. One trusted companion to another. Comrades, through many trials and tribulations, who will carry forth through many more, no matter the outcome this night.”

Y’shtola was close, now, and she was looking up at Zoissette, and she did not see the unfocused blood heat in them, the look of a person lost in rut. But she saw a glassiness, the edges of tears.

Of someone who desperately wanted to let go, but perhaps did not know how to.

And for her part, her mind was not clouded. She was not lost in her own heat. Indeed, her mind had rarely felt so clear, so sharp, so close to what it was she wanted.

Zoissette put the flask down behind her. Her movements slow, deliberate. Her jaw was tight.

“I pretended to be something I am not,” she said.

“And yet you are who you have been, this entire time, simply being you,” said Y’shtola.

Zoissette’s breathing was deep, rough.

“How could you want this? With me?”

“How could I not?”

“Are you certain?”

“I am. How certain are you?”

Zoissette swallowed, dryly.

“Would you stay if I asked?”

“I would stay if not turned away. You must believe that I want to be here.”

“I do,” said Zoissette. And then, “I want you.”

“Then take me,” said Y’shtola, her voice throaty with need.

The speed with which Zoissette moved, the fierceness with which she grabbed Y’shtola shocked her, and she folded into the motion, feeling herself go limp, almost as though boneless, as Zoissette’s mouth was at hers, pressing hotly against her lips. Y’shtola moaned, immediately opening her mouth, inviting her in, and Zoissette’s tongue was quick to take the invitation. Y’shtola was in the air, Zoissette pulling her up by her ass with one hand, as another hand pressed the back of her neck, bringing them together, forcing them close, holding her tight. She shivered, at the excitement, at the suddenness of it, her tail curling tightly up of its own volition.

Y’shtola was helpless before the force that was Zoissette, and her heart soared, her blood pumping furiously, rushing in her ears, and Zoissette was eager, hungry, ravenous. She forced Y’shtola to the ground, though Y’shtola was going willingly.

A hand, now pawing at the front of her blouse, between their bodies, groping her breast. Zoissette’s weight almost crushing Y’shtola, as she parted her legs to allow Zoissette’s thigh to press against her crotch. Their breathing, hot, heavy, hard, as one. Y’shtola whimpered, and reached up, to try and wrap her arms around Zoissette, to hold her closer.

Zoissette stopped, and pushed herself up to her knees, before grabbing Y’shtola’s wrists to pin them to the floor. Y’shtola could still feel her knee in her crotch. She could hear her breath. She could smell her, so close. She could feel her presence, the pressure of who she was, bearing down on her, pushing her down, and despite that, Y’shtola felt as though she was soaring.

Eyes, intense, bored into her own, but could not hold her gaze as she returned the stern look with a small coy smile, as she swept her own gaze over the tightness in Zoissette’s jaw, and wandered down to her exquisite collarbones, as she admired the power in Zoissette’s arm muscles, so close. She gave a token squirm, to struggle against the hands holding her wrists. Only just enough to make obvious her interest.

And despite being pinned, she had more than enough leverage to move her hips and grind down against that knee, still present in her crotch.

“This is what I am,” said Zoissette. “Do you still want this?”

Y’shtola closed her eyes slowly, rolling her eyes back as she did so, the slowness of the motions of her head and face a sharp contrast to the way her hips wanted to buck strongly, the way she tried to get her foot to hook against Zoissette’s thigh and make increase that pressure against her center.

“I have never wanted anything more,” she purred.

Zoissette panted.

And then her hands were free, Zoissette sitting up, pulling her shirt off. Y’shtola was torn momentarily, trying to decide what she wanted more. She reached for Zoissette’s waist, but her hands were slapped away as Zoissette stood up quickly, and turned around, removing her pants herself. Bra and smalls were quick to follow, and Y’shtola would waste no more time there, sitting up enough to discard her own clothing.

Pants were tossed to one side and shirt halfway off before it was torn off the rest of the way by Zoissette. And then she was in the air again, Zoissette carrying her roughly, as though she was just a luggage. She took the opportunity to cling tightly to Zoissette, to rake fingernails down exposed shoulder blades while she peppered her collarbone with kisses, wrapping her legs around her.

She was dumped unceremoniously on her back onto the bed. Zoissette grabbed at the waist of her smalls, and practically growled as she tore them off, ripping them down her legs and throwing them to one side, before following her, crawling onto the bed, crawling on top of her. Y’shtola held her hands above her head, and just lay there, breathless, waiting, anticipating. Zoissette pushed her knee into her crotch once more, more forcefully this time, and Y’shtola opened her thighs to grind against it. Zoissette was bent over her, hands at her bra, unclasping it, pulling it off nearly as roughly as she had handled her smalls, and threw it to the side.

They were both fully nude, now. Zoissette took the offering of her hands for what it was, grabbing one wrist and then the other, and pinning Y’shtola to the bed with one hand. Her other hand went to a breast, and Zoissette now hungrily took its nipple into her mouth, lips clamped on tight, tongue attacking its tip without mercy. Y’shtola squirmed and thrashed, feeling as though her feelings were flooding her, turbulent waves roaring through her, crashing into one another as she gasped to keep her head above water. Zoissette continued to make almost animal-like noises as she attacked her, mauling her breasts, straining at her body.

After a while, Zoissette stopped, panting from the exertion. Y’shtola gasped in deep breaths, her entire body a single nerve, raw and alight.

“Please, please, please,” she begged. “More, I want more.”

Zoissette looked deep into her eyes, and then grabbed her jaw, holding her head as she leaned in, other hand still pinning her down, and she kissed her, deep, hungry, ravenous, wanting. Their tongues writhed as they breathed in one another, as though their essence was connected through the heat of their mouths.

And then she pulled back again. Y’shtola tried to follow, but could only go so far with her hands pinned as they were, and she whimpered at the loss, at the sudden cold sensation of her lover’s lips being denied her. She looked up at Zoissette, watching her face, shivering as Zoissette’s eyes wandered, taking her all in.

“You would make a lady beg?” she asked, her voice shaky.

Zoissette pulled back a little bit, moving away while keeping her pinned, her knee leaving the space between Y’shtola’s thighs it had been occupying. Y’shtola felt a wave of dismay. Had they truly come so far, only to fall short at this last moment?

And then Zoissette repositioned herself, her whole body instead of just a knee between Y’shtola’s thighs, now. Y’shtola could not help but watch, helpless. Wholly at her mercy. Even if she wanted to, she was not certain she could have done anything otherwise. Zoissette was strong. And oh, how she wanted to reach out, to run hands down those arms, to place palms against those abdominals.

“I would make a lady scream,” said Zoissette, reaching down between them, and then she was inside, deft fingers deep inside Y’shtola’s most delicate place.

Y’shtola saw stars, and she yowled, throaty, wanton. In that instant she wanted the entire star to know she was being taken, that she was being roughly handled by this monster of a woman. That Zoissette was with her, and that she was hers, and that she belonged to her. She continued, gasping, her chest heaving with every breath, and as she let one breath out, her nipple was once more in a mouth.

Zoissette continued her not so tender ministrations, and Y’shtola had never wanted so much as she wanted now. She fought against Zoissette, not to try and throw her off, but just to fight, just to reach further for that highest high, to try to get Zoissette deeper. And the way Zoissette’s fingers were deep in her, the way she could feel Zoissette grinding against her, the way she imagined Zoissette’s clit in her mind’s eye, swollen and engorged.

The way Zoissette was beginning to spasm above her.

“Claim me!” she cried out to the stars. “I would be yours!”

Zoissette’s breathing, deep and throaty, as she came up from her breast. Zoissette’s breath, hot on her throat. Zoissette, as she finally let go of her wrists, to hold herself steady.

Zoissette’s teeth, at last, sharp on her skin, as she bit down. Zoissette’s essence, as she let go. Y’shtola’s hands, as they clung to her, and they clung to one another, as Y’shtola sang their song to the stars and Zoissette cried out her pleasure, muffled as it was by her flesh in between her teeth, but cried out still, in singularly blissful accompaniment.

Zoissette and Y’shtola, in that moment, as one.

~*~

Travel could be so difficult.

Zoissette was in a rush, pushing her way through the crowds of Limsa Lominsa. She would not be late, by any stretch of the imagination, but her tasks here were done, and she wished to be at the pier as fast as possible. She talked quickly to the bookkeeper, confirming her passage was already secured, and quickly made her way out to the pier, looking around.

The crowd was fairly typical, porters and borders, sailors and dock workers. She made her way to where would-be travelers would be gathering to take the ferry, and she saw who she was looking for, surrounded by a gaggle of people. As she got close, some of them turned to give her a gentle glare, but the rest seemed to be paying attention to a woman in the center of the group.

A woman who now spotted her, turned, and smiled.

“Kindly make way for my husband,” said Y’sthola warmly, who lifted a hand to wave at Zoissette. The group now turned to look at Zoissette, many of them more kindly than before, as they parted to give her space.

“Oh, I can see it now!” “The babe has her father’s eyes.” “And hair.” “That explains the darkness of her skin!” “Oh, and look, they have their father’s nose!”

Y’shtola just smiled wryly, turning to face Zoissette, her child at her breast, feeding peacefully enough despite being the center of attention.

“Hello, dearest,” said Y’shtola, before looking down and smoothing over her baby’s hair.

“I came as fast as I could manage,” said Zoissette. She smiled shyly at the crowd, and wiggled her fingers at them in something kind of like a wave.

“Oh, look at how tall and beautiful she is,” said one Miqo’te, an Ome who, from the feel of it, was nearing their cycle time.

Y’shtola just rolled her eyes as the babe finished. She loosened the sling a bit, pulling them free. “Take them for a moment, would you?”

Zoissette just nodded dumbly, being careful as Y’shtola transferred the sling over to her. She settled it, and smiled down at the baby, rocking them gently against herself.

“I can take them for more than a moment. You have had them all day,” she said.

“You just want to spend more time with our child when they aren’t screaming,” said Y’shtola warmly, her words without temper.

“Look at how careful she is. She’s got the makings of a great father,” said a nearby Lalafell, nudging Zoissette in the thigh and giving Y’shtola a wink. Zoissette just blushed, while Y’shtola frowned in annoyance as she tucked her breast back into her dress.

“And so strong, too. I bet your child will be magnificent when they get older,” opined another Miqo’te, reaching out a hand to touch Zoissette’s arm.

“Tall, beautiful, strong, and mine,” said Y’shtola, a touch sharply, and the woman immediately pulled her hand back, clasping her hands behind her back and bowing her head, looking appropriately abashed.

“Oooh selfish selfish, keeping such a treasure to yourself!” said one of the others, which elicited some small nervous scattered laughter from among the crowd. Y’shtola sighed, her ears beginning to fold back.

A laugh came from nearby, and everyone turned to look at a Roegadyn man, sitting on a box of crates, a long pipe in his hand. He grinned at them, and waved his pipe in their general direction. “You’d have better luck fishing in other waters, my friendly Omes. Look at them! Can’t you tell? Can’t you feel it? They’re not just mated, they’re bonded.”

The group murmured.

“Oh, that explains so much.” “What did you -think- she meant by husband?” “Well I don’t know! Can’t blame a guy for holding out hope! I mean, look at her!” “He’s right, he’s so right, I don’t know how I didn’t notice before.”

The same Lalafell still at Zoissette’s side grinned up at her, and gave her a bow. “Good luck and congratulations on your impeccable taste, good madam.”

“Thank you,” said Zoissette, smiling, before turning her attention back to the baby in her arms. Everything that she had heard while walking up was true. The baby had most of Zoissette’s features, same color hair, same color eyes that now gazed up curiously, watching the clouds in the sky.

But it was not solely her in there. Their skin was not nearly so dark as her own, though it was definitely darker than Y’shtola’s. And the baby had Y’shtola’s stripe pattern and ears. This one would be growing up, not as an Elezen, but as a Miqo’te.

They sneezed, and Zoissette laughed. The crowd continued to ooh and awe and fawn over child and couple, though now with rather less pointed attention at Zoissette. Which she was glad for. She gently stuck a pinky near the baby, and wiggled it, delighted when the child reached out and gripped it tightly.

Y’shtola looped her arm around Zoissette’s, and leaned against her.

Nearby, a dockworker’s voice began to boom out boarding instructions. “Alright! Prepare for boarding! You all know how this works!” they began.

Y’shtola bumped Zoissette’s hip with her own, gently.

“That will be us, then,” said Y’shtola. “Care to share a space?”

Zoissette frowned at her, feeling confused.

“How else would we travel?” she asked, and Y’shtola just laughed.

The porters began to gather luggage, and arm in arm, Zoissette and Y’shtola boarded the ferry with their little plus one. A small little family, new, but they both took joy in it. As this was something they both wanted.

[autumnslance]

Patch 6.55 & Idle Dawntrail Speculation

I don't normally engage too far, but this is a bit of thought arising from FC chat in Discord that I want to keep for posterity, about Erenville, the crown candidates, and coming to various Scions as champions to get everyone to Tural.

Really don't think Erenville is a candidate--I don't think Wuk Lamat's capable of keeping that under wraps if he's one of her siblings or another able contestant--but there was some idle speculation in the FC chat earlier, started by @yzeltia.

Y'zel thought Erenville seems a bit sus; we know he's been in Sharlayan for years--as has Wuk Lamat's brother Koana, secretly. It's likely Koana's another claimant; I'd bet he's the one who's hired Thancred and Urianger in fact, given he'd be aware of the Scions and the archons' skills. And there is a mystery miqo'te man on the key art next to our Scion bros.

Our dynamic duo also has decent judgment in the kind of people they'd choose to work for; I don't see them throwing in with Other Guy.

Y'zel theorizes Erenville's actually working with Koana, and will support his claim. @driftward, @erickgage, and I took that thread and ran with it a bit.

Maybe Erenville is working for Koana--to help Wuk Lamat. She's young and eager, but also inexperienced and impetuous. So she needs champions to help steady her, and more importantly keep her safe in a contest that's sure to get dangerous, if Other Guy is as mean as he is ambitious.

And perhaps it's a bit of deck stacking too; Koana and Wuk Lamat can both chase the throne, and either of them is a preferable option to this Other Guy who wants to drag Tural into conquest and war. If they're both supported by Scions, they have a better chance of one of them taking the throne. And again, Wuk Lamat might need what help she can get.

So have old friend Erenville nudge her along and keep an eye on her and get her the help she needs; Wuk Lamat, at least, seemed to speak fondly of her brother, and Erenville was also positive to neutral as usual for him; their tones and body languages when speaking of Other Guy were very different.

And we've heard nothing yet of the fourth contender; another sibling, or someone else? A threat, or not? Someone a few other Scions might find themselves working for when they end up in Tural?

(Also wondering if that "split" in the story arcs might come into play to get the cats over there, the way some Scions came in later to HW or StB's MSQs.)

So anyway; there's a few ways this might go. I don't think Erenville's the mysterious fourth, but he's closely tied to this contest and the royal family, and is looking out for Wuk Lamat--either on his own as her childhood friend, or at the behest of his other friend, her brother, who is a sneaky, secretive scholar and has hired on the sneakier, more secretive members of the Scions to aid him--while boisterous Wuk Lamat has Team Violence (with Krile and Alphinaud playing adults to keep WoL and Alisaie somewhat in check and play politics for them).

And of course we could be wrong and Wuk Lamat is better at keeping secrets than she seems, but from what little we saw already, I rather doubt it; if Erenville were a contender, helping a competitor find a champion, it would have come up. The way they both spoke of Koana and family ties also indicates he is not, at least, part of this royal family, though we have yet to get the reticent gleaner's full story, either, and Tural is made up of many peoples.

[eorziapple]

FFXIV Write 2023 Prompt 18: Fish Out of Water

(Character: Apple Silverberg, Setting: GA Apple, Sprout safe)

The company party seemed to be going well. just about every couch, chair, and barstool had been taken up by chatting, friendly faces. Erick and Meya were certainly in the middle of things, regaling some sort of humorous tale, from the looks of things. Aeryn was with them, though she seemed to be rolling her eyes.

Dark absently pulled Y'zel back by the back of his shirt, probably giving him a lecture about his teasing, or perhaps a prank. His ears folded down a bit, she could only chuckle, havning seen Dark Autumn put a lot of people in their places over the years.

Riven and the boys were arguing about something, she wasn't sure what, but it seemed to be a rather heated discussion. She smiled, Apple never really had any siblings, but from her understanding they were not related either, though they certainly acted like family.

Zoissette, C'oretta, and Ryssthota were embroiled in what seemed to be some sort of game, the wager was shots of something, clearly, as two would be forced to drink the unpleasant looking concoction from time to time. She wondered if they were doing trivia, or maybe a quiz?

She sighed as she put a hand on the bannister, watching it all. She knew by now that she'd be welcome down there. She could probably join any conversation and be met with a smiling face and an offer of food or drink. She really should feel at home with them.

Why was it so hard?

She moved back to the stairwell, climbed her way up to her office, grabbed a book and headed to her reading chair.

Why did she always feel like such a stranger?

@erickgage @healerstail @autumnslance @driftward @yzeltia for the mention

[kepesktribe]

What is their go to for making their partner feel loved?

This was a hard one because Ren tends to show it in every little thing he does... and most the time it is subconscious. He doesn't really need to show it because it is in every little thing he does as a part of how he is with Sorrel.

If I really had to pick what he does most... Florentel mostly does small touches. Little acts of affection to a touch starved man who had vocally expressed wanting Ren to show him physical affection. (And Sorrel is sure to reward those 100 times over in bed.) Arms brushing as they walk, the way he tangles his limbs with Sorrel when they cuddle in bed, legs secretly brushing under tables when they with others. And so much more.

He also tends to constantly remind Sorrel he is part of his family during conversations in passing. Since Sorrel doesn't have a family to go back to, and married into Ren's family, Ren is always including him with family things. He knows Sorrel has a scale from his father and aunt and a crest from his mother on a chain. So he made a crest of his own family to give Sorrel to add. He is always inviting him back home to Ishgard for family meals... and delivering gifts and messages from his mother, who instantly took Sorrel as her own. He even promised to teach Sorrel the family trade of candle making.

So I guess... to show Sorrel he is loved... Ren is always giving small bits of affection and constantly including him as family.

Thanks for the ask @yzeltia

~MK

[karoiseka]

3) Free Day 1

((I decided that I'm going to use at least a few of these free days to finish the prompts that I hadn't gotten around to finishing/posting! So, here's one that had me gasping at the various ideas that sprung up, including this one. [seriously, I had like 4 different ideas for this one]. Have some Kar'a and Hades Forgiveness thanks to @yzeltia ))

Ikarus gasped as she pulled herself up onto the rock, the howls of her hunters close.  Too close.  This wasn’t how the trip was supposed to go, and she almost regretted not prepping more before leaving the city.  She hadn’t been sitting in the seat of Azem very long, but had instantly chosen chaos–immediately leaving after her appointment for the wide open road.  The stack of paperwork sitting on the desk as she left and sent a shiver down her spine–Venat had not cleaned up before stepping down.

There had been one other reason for leaving so quickly.  Emet-Selch.  Hades.  Whatever she was supposed to call him now that she was his equal on the council.  It had been years since they had actually spoken, Hythlodaeus and Venat being their only connection.  At this point she couldn’t even remember what the argument was over, just that it had shattered the life-long relationship that they had–only that it was something to do with a council decision that she didn’t agree with and that he had put forward as an idea.

The rumor from Hyth that he had backed Venat’s decision to promote her to the Seat of Azem had startled her into remembering that Hades always did try to think logically and without emotion–especially when it came to work related items.  She supposed with how much she had worked as a Word of Azem under Venat that it shouldn’t be a surprise that she was a candidate for the position, but it was startling to hear from him nonetheless.

Which brought her back to her current predicament.  Her leg was cut fairly badly, and she needed time to let the healing magic kick in.  Shields could only do so much as she sat heavily, watching the pack circle, as best she could.  Weaving in and out of the tall grass, their natural camouflage concealed their true numbers when she tried to count them.  There was nothing else for it then.  She needed help.

There was only one that was usually willing to teleport to her side, one that had the magic to whisk himself home afterwards.  Loathe as she was to call upon him, there wasn’t much choice left, and she let the magic fly.  It had always been a part of her, the ability to call and summon those that she needed most to her side.  The tendril of magic hung in the air as she was unsure if the call would be answered–the circle glowing at her side.

The runes burst into blinding light as the magic activated, a moment later grey robes brushed her leg.  His topaz eyes took in the scene, before resting on her wounds for a moment, adjusting his grip on the greatsword he had already drawn.

Hades had answered her call.  Sighing in relief, the shields drew in as Ikarus–Azem–pulled in her aether to work on the wounds, before accepting the outstretched hand tugging her to her feet.

“You came.”

“Of course.”  and that was that.  Time shifted once more, and despite everything, they moved as one, as they had so many times before, and most likely would again.  Her weapons spun around them, weaving their deadly protective dance, as she threw her head back and laughed.  All was right on the star once more, forgiveness granted, and goals aligned once more–at least for now.

[minti-tales]

Vierapril, Day 16 - Tough

Minti Chocolate only hangs out with the roughest, toughest padres this side of Western Thanalan.

You hankerin' to rustle up totems?

Lookin' to loot all the treasure maps?

Show us what you got, pardner.

We're the cowpokes from Gage Acquisitions.

Yee-haw.

(Minti's Ul'dah Posse: @driftward, @yzeltia)

[biot08]

List 7 comfort movies. Tag 7 people.

Tagged by @tehjai who already tagged a lot of the people I would have who then in turned tagged a lot of the people I would have who -

I should've been faster on the trigger I guess

Now, the list: Tron Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan Batman (1989 version) Terminator 2 Wall-E Ghost in the Shell Wallace and Gromit (any one of them) Equilibrium Tagging @saesama, @scalefeathers, @sasslett, @eorzeanflowers, @mremaknu, @yzeltia, and wildcard @cipheramnesia because I want some chaos in my life.

[hear-feel-think]

nine people I'd like to know better

tagged by @myreia Thank you!

Last Song I Listened To: Yellow Submarine by the Beatles Currently Watching: Avatar the Last Airbender, the OG cartoon. Also Delicious in Dungeon. Sweet/Savoury/Spicy?: Spicy! Relationship Status: Married to my wonderful husband for nearly 7 years now! Ethically non-monogamous, I've also had a casual girlfriend for 2 years. Current Obsession: My baby daughter 😍 We took her for her first trip on the metro today so her father and I could see the eclipse with some friends. She slept the whole time.

Tagging: (As usual I'm going through my notes and getting the last few folks who liked/reblogged from me. No pressure! Feel free to answer on your main instead if I tagged a sideblog. And feel free to ignore me entirely!) @mages-ballad, @fjotla-vithir, @driftward, @jmadreugimal, @shadepelt4673, @belethlegwen, @blancaleona, @abominablesnowdude, @yzeltia

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

on our fates alight (general masterpost)

FFXIV Write 2023 posts

astrid protesting

gaius van baelsar, black wolf and eikon's bane

Odin

Zurvan

Halone

Valefor

Susano (written by @saesama )

absolute ass of a man

situation disharmony

strange new guest

rumor chasing (written by @matrixdragon )

introduction

geometric jailbreak ( written by @driftward )

hidden dominant

bicker

quiet interlude

provoke

not/housebroken

declaration of intent

known treachery

confrontation

limited options

mothercrystal's ruling

unfortunate normal

halone's second son

old rumors

ill realization

the black wolf's prey

serious question

the golden hunter (written by @erickgage )

memo (partly written by @driftward )

the scholar's secret

trap (partly written by @erickgage )

spymaster's report

one night in the shroud

briefing (starring @matrixdragon 's Alice with @erickgage 's Erick)

the shieldmaiden, her witch, and a bird (starring @driftward 's Zoissette)

the lost songstress (written by @lunarosewood23, starring their Raven Cross)

the archivist (written by @eorzeanflowerss 's Archie)

decisions to be made (written by @eorzeanflowers, starring their Archie)

dominant of storms (written by @dominantofstorms, starring their Alisa)

the moogling

scouting (starring @autumnslance 's Iyna and @erickgage 's Erick)

aftermath (1)

asura enters the chat (starring @autumnslance 's Aeryn)

fixin' to storm soon (starring @saesama 's Klynt)

storm a'brewin (written by @saesama )

become the enemy

dominant of carbuncle (starring @eorziapple 's Apple)

before bed

on guard

fraught recovery

drain (starring @autumnslance 's Aeryn and Zaine)

questioning senses (starring @driftward 's Zoissette)

the fall of ala mhigo

surprise houseguest

limited intel

wrench in the works

willingly imprisoned

mortality

request

late arrival

body count

First Dominant of Halone

Second Dominant of Halone

false society

Roderick and Emma DeGlass

holy treachery

nightmare

first warning

blindsided (starring @autumnslance 's Aeryn, Zaine, and Emelia

-----

Vierapril starring @scalefeathers 's Bylti

regal

danger

victory

pause

relinquish

damage

breath

longing

progress

release

spark

energy

showers

wave

style

pride

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

a night at the opera (starring @yzeltia )

the Time for recruitment (starring @eorzeanflowers 's Archie)

i did a bad thing

time for crab (starring @saesama 's Klynt)

interlude: let go

late arrival (1)

not a monster

late arrival (2)

dominant of Rhalgr

Rhaglr rage-Prime

safe harbor (1)

masterpost part two

[okami-zero]

OC Name Meanings

I appreciate the tag, @kittynomsdeplume! xD

Rules: Google and post the meaning of your OC’s name (if you made their name up or they go by a nickname, post an explanation of how it came to you)! bonus if you can find something for their last name too.

I believe I shall tag... @elveny, @vasheden, @greyias, @traveleorzea, @autumnslance, @kunstpause, @sasslett, @clockworkdragonffxiv, @karoiseka, @yzeltia and anyone else who see this and wants to join in!

Okay, so one thing to note about most of my OCs, is their names generally just pop out of the random mess of alphabet soup constantly simmering in some corner of my brain. Not ALL of them (for example, Akagi's family name), but most. Or are inspired/pulled from other places. I will go with my big three main MMO fellas, and my two 100% original OCs. Also, have a cut cause I, uh, got carried away. ^_^; (And I am sorry this took so long. >.<)

Zedd Overkill/Zed'rika Ov'redis- Okay, this guy. My half-echani smuggler in SWTOR, who is based on the original I made ages ago (and who is the descendant of the SWTOR one, after some revisions/additions/etc.) The OG is Zedd Overkill, inspired by my favorite Power Rangers villain (Lord Zedd), the head agent from MiB (Zed, as in the letter) and with inspiration from Hackers (Crash Override), a dash (heh, pun) of Dash Rendar from Shadows of the Empire and a maybe just a hint of Han solo. The name popped into my head after watching Hackers and was trying to think up a cool email during computer class (back when Hotmail was still Hotmail xD). The name was repurposed with a smuggler character I made with a friend when we were just making up neat Star Wars OCs for a maybe story we were writing. Story never got finished, but Zedd stuck around. "Overkill" is more a nickname now, as his preferred method of rapid problem-solving involves liberal applications of thermal detonators. x3 Rav Masahiro & Marshall O'Donnell - These two are my second oldest persistent OCs after good ol' Zedd. There is technically one that is older (in fact, old enough that he used Zedd's moniker for a while, back when folding an OC to fit any AU was my MO), but he's kind of only half-baked, for the most part. Rav and Marshall are next in line, and are, by and large much more polished. The story they were to be set in was very grand in scale and scope, considering it was kind of a series of AUs where things in various realities were being fucked with, and they are two of a team of six who are sent out to deal with such things. If this sounds like a certain popular video game franchise from a prominent Japanese publisher, you'd be right in there being some similarities, I guess, but they predate it by about a year. Well, technically Rav predates it, Marshall didn't crystallize until about a year or so later. Powersets are very shounen-ish, I guess? Little bit of henshin and other stuff thrown in for flavor (and things have been tweaked and appended over time). Anyway, Rav's name comes from a reworking of my own name, as he is kind of my self-insert-ish guy. His last name comes from my at-the-time rampant obsession with Japanese culture (yes, yes, I'll say it, I was a weeb. The interest remains, though tempered by time, experience and education). I thought his last name meant something else, as Googling in those early days was... a crap shoot. And the fact that Masahiro is a given name in Japanese hasn't deterred me, as embarrassing as it might be, it just... is a thing now. xD (The other half-baked OC I mentioned has a similar nomenclature goof). Marshall's name kind of just, popped out of the ether, but it flows well and it fits. She does let people close to her shorten it to "Shall" (sounds like shawl). Do NOT call her "Marsh", "Marshie" or "Marsha" or she'll deck you. Like, lay you out flat with one punch. Moving on!

Xanotos Delkai - My Warrior tank in WoW. Another lad who went through some changes. xD So my first character in WoW was a human hunter back in the...alpha or beta, whenever it was they were originally playable before getting nixed. His name was Thanatos, inspired by the character of the same name from a Sega CD fighting game Eternal Champions: Challenge from the Dark Side. He was a typical Grim Reaper-y Death (as Thanatos was the personification of death in Greek mythology, and a psychopomp, I believe). I liked the name. However, the character was nuked after the alpha or beta or whatnot. So, when I remade the character for the full version, I rolled up a Warrior and named him Xanatos/Xanotos (depending on the server), or Xano. Now, I have remade and moved this character many times over the years. Delkai became his surname at some point, and when worgen came out, he was race-changed to worgen, and his backstory was shifted and fleshed out further. Fun fact: the Gargoyles TV series was the farthest thing from my mind when I made this toon, and was for many years. It wasn't until... just before or around Legion, I think? that I realized I had named him the same (if spelled differently) as Evil 90s Will Riker. xD

Akagi Obinata - And now we get to my most recent and most prevalent MMO OC, Akagi. Paladin, Tankfriend, tol dragon/lizard man. So, sadly, this boy is the third I have given a Japanese-style name to, and borked the order of, because Akagi is a freaking surname. >.< Now, I am aware that Hingashi (he was born and raised in/around Kugane) is only kind of Etheirys-Japan, but... I am just...moving on! The inspiration for his given name is one Akagi Shunsuke (or Shunsuke Akagi, in Western fashion) from the anime Dai-Guard. It is an absolutely insane super robot show and I love it, and I see a lot of myself in one of the protagonists (the aforementioned Akagi Shunsuke). So, in honor of a favorite character, I chose that. Forgetting, or blindly ignoring the fact that just because everyone in the show (save for his one relative we see) refers to him as Akagi because it is a cultural thing, and not because it is his given name. >.< What's done is done, however. His surname, thankfully, is one from a list of suggested surnames from the raen au ra lore I could find. It means "blades on waist", and I figured that there were samurai in his family line far enough back that that was the name they took. Akagi, by the way, is if I am not mistaken, "red castle", and well, he IS red. And the Paladin LB3 is a freaking castle WALL, so... it fits in a retroactive kind of way. xD (I was not thinking of his coloring, nor was I aware of what the LB3 looked like when I made him. ^_^; )

And that is it! Do I have more OCs? Yes! But they are all kind of self-contained to different things, and their names are more of a kind of mental slot machine than these goobers (plus the one xD). Hopefully I didn't ramble TOO too much, but I get excited about my homemade blorbos, y'know how it is. Thanks for reading!

[driftward]

Junelezen 2023: Aftershocks

Last week, I had a masterpost of every single entry I made for Junelezen 2023, which I dubbed Echoes. This week, I am posting annotated entries for every post from there, except this time I am linking to specific entries in the reblog chains, or to posts that others made as responses to Echoes. In particular, one member of my FC, (here on Tumblr as @yzeltia), took it upon himself to create a reblog response to every post.

The previous masterpost can be considered the 'original cut', consisting solely of my entries. This is the 'fat cut' I mentioned there. What parts of all this are canonical? I don't know, come back with a warrant.

As already mentioned, this post will have annotations on the various entries. I could go on for hours about my thought process, things I learned, and I may yet make some other posts about such things, but for now, I am (mostly) restricting myself to commentary here, both on my work, and the work of others.

I have learned a lot during this. One of the things I have learned is that in the future, readmores and reblogs do not necessarily play well together for these round-up posts, as readmores will roll out without the linked reblog, and if you just look at the reblog chain, you'll miss whatever was in the readmore. If I do this again in the future, I think I will stick to making posts, and maybe just link back and forth between them. And maybe if I am responding to someone else's work like this, instead of a reblog, I might just tag OP? I am uncertain. Reblogs keep tumblr alive. The cleanest for archive purposes would probably be reblog the original, then make the follow-up and tag the originator. Still though, that's neither here nor there. What is here is the fantastic work done by others.

And I appreciate all of it. I am humbled by the response.

Final note, these will largely link to Y'zel Tia's responses, since he reblogged almost every response with his own screenshot and words. Click throughs and context should make it obvious which ones are which.

.portrait

Where we got started, with a bit of a literal framing device. Y'zel Tia belongs to @yzeltia; part of his character canon is being a cousin to Y'shtola Rhul, and so that'll explain why you'll often see both of them in his responses. I'm not at all sure why Y'shtola would be interested in what happens to some random feckless adventurer, though...

Special shout out to @matrixdragon and @sabbactroll who both had, uh, opinions on this development. :)

.home

Look, haven't we all had a scientific experiment go a little sideways and light someone's world on fire. This is, of course, the bridge between the Incident and Junelezen: Echoes.

.spring

What strange sights are seen beyond the veil of reality, and what utterly normal places those left behind would go. I picked Coerthas as an early anchor point, since that's where Zoissette grew up.

.new adventure

I was still learning a lot here, both about my tools (gpose+more/Affinity Photo) as well as the posting medium (tumblr). An early goal I had was that the Junelezen 'entry' would be its own screenshot with minimal words, and I would build on the 'story' portion in reblogs or readmores, so that way people who were only interested in the Junelezen part could ignore the rest. This one I used a reblog to expand the story.

Studying Her History (by @yzeltia)

Zoissette would probably prefer they stay out of her room at the Baldesion Annex. Y'shtola is always cute when passed out from studying too much though.

.job

Using a reblog chain to expand the story portion again. I couldn't figure out how to make the jobstone work, so I added a light source to Zoissette's hand to make a kind of 'glow'. Not real happy with how it turned out, but making mistakes makes the learning happen.

Informing Alka Zolka (by @yzeltia)

Okay Y'zel was just trying for emotional damage here. I mean, he succeeded, but still. :|

.mount

I have written about part of Zoissette's mission of mercy before. Look ma, my lore has lore. This event left its mark on her; it did not change her in any great way, just sort of underlines who she already was at that point. In the reblog, Y'zel went for the emotional damage again. Writing in my FC is a PvP activity.

Absence Felt (by @ladyofvoss)

Incredible work here, in the expressiveness of the posture, and the choice of shots taken (at my heart). This is Thalia Voss, belonging to @ladyofvoss. Where she's at is Zoissette's office at Gage Acquisitions (designed by fellow FC member Ghurab)

.friends

Another reblog chain. Compositing the 'shards' to put the faces of friends into them was quite difficult, each one requiring four layers (the way I did it) and quite a bit of manual touch up work. The color scheme was chosen on purpose. Look, Junelezen is also Pride Month, I don't make the rules, but I do make things queer.

1000 words remix (by @yzeltia)

Y'zel has a real fondness for all things music, and that's seen here. As @saesama put it, 'he made an AMV in tumblr form'. Having not played FF X-2, I was not familiar with the song, but I am now. This will not be the last musical piece from our aurally inclined catboy.

.beauty

With this one I really found the problems with reblog chains when making archival posts. This links to the reblog I made to my own post to add story, but in going to the original post, it's actually really hard to fish out the reblog!

We get further hints here that 'Adriané' may not be who Zoissette thinks she is.

Dancing Alone (by @yzeltia)

Dance like nobody's watching. Hey. Why are you watching. Go away, this is meant to be a private moment!

.mirror

Getting to here took a lot of false starts, fiddling with Affinity Photo, getting samples from in game, changing outfits, and it was all worthwhile in the end. I really like the end result. Y'zel went for a more chaotic approach.

Absence Mourned (by @scrollsfromarebornrealm)

For context, the character in these shots is Mathye Bishop, who belongs to @scrollsfromarebornrealm, a character who has been courting Zoissette for over a year by this point. They are close, in any case. The tone provided by the filter and his posture all scream of the devastation he feels in the wake of Zoissette's absence.

.summer

A memory that never happened, but did. Strange things in these echoes, and as has happened before, Y'zel's character visits the 'real' location, feeling a twinge of what is going on out beyond the rift, thanks to his own Echo gift. Klynt Gohtawyn belongs to @saesama, and this hearkens back to the days she and Zoissette may have crossed paths back when they both worked for the Maelstrom.

Klynt's a jerk.

.day

Not much to say for this one. I thought the sun would make more of an arc crossing the sky, making for an interesting dynamic shot, but it turns out it makes kind of a very straight line, which makes sense if you think about it. I had an alternative shot planned that, while it was gorgeous, I just couldn't make the story aspect of it work out. I will probably share that shot, and others, at a future date.

.sun

You can see I am choosing more and more often to use readmores instead of reblogs, and I will probably stand by that decision in the future. Also here is where I found out I had been doing a crime these many years. Due to her somewhat reserved nature, I usually have Zoissette have very subtle almost-nonexistent expressions. Clearly, this entire time, I should have been turning them up somewhere around 11. I love her face.

Echo Disrupted (by @yzeltia)

Looks like in the search for their friend, someone may have overdone it a bit. Overdoing it a bit, in fact, seems to be a bit of a theme with Y'zel, both player and character.

.ancient times

I am not going to take the space it would require for me to say everything that I would like about Atlas, so instead I will just mention that this served as a useful pivot for the story, and provided a path forward. I had actually been juggling several ideas up to this point, and this is where I hard committed to a specific direction. Thanks, Atlas.

Sanctuary remix (by @yzeltia)

Honestly I think Y'zel having his character black out was just an excuse to have a space to put this entry without having to worry about what I was doing. Which, really, is a stroke of genius. Another AMV in tumblr form. Should we make a new word for that?

.night

It was around here that I decided to lean more on my strengths - writing - and less on screenshots. That decision did not last long. Junelezen started as a screenshot event, and I was having fun with those. Here we anchor for everything ever after.

Connected remix (by @yzeltia)

Y'zel introduces me to a new song that lives in my heart.

.romance

Zoissette, no longer losing herself in the echoes, shows up only in the containment suit in shots from here on out. I continue to be cheeky about the colours I use whenever she's in the rift, and Y'zel drops a slick FF8 reference, which just really plays into my love of multiverse shenanigans.

.magic

Not completely sworn off of reblogs yet, though this reblog was pushed out fast, before I had a riot on my hands. This is also where I started hinted more heavily at things to come, with another Lavender PoV piece.

In the reblog chain, where you see the fairies, from left to right, is C'oretta Khell's (belongs to @autumnslance) Lotus, pink-shifted compared to the others; Ryssthota Sundstyrwyn's (belongs to @erickgage) Glitterdust, and Riven Fortemp's (belongs to @scrollsfromarebornrealm) Sugarplum, who I tried to make the little hairtufts rounder for.

.magic response by Y'zel Tia

You can ask Y'zel about this one.

.autumn

And pulled that trigger. This is where I finalized the smoke effect I wanted to use for Lavender, and I'm rather proud of how it turned out, particularly in future shots.

.landscape

I really like this shot, for the utter alien landscape I managed to make using FFXIV assets and some aggressive photo editor work. My only regret is that it does not -quite- look like Zoissette and Lavender are actually in that place, but I think that can be fixed with a few more adjustments.

I'd been leaning on Y'zel's entries to sort of weakly gesture at what may have been going on in the 'real world' while Zoissette was gone, but here I start to make my own narrative about the matter. Judging from conversations I've had, there is one thing I could have made clearer in this story. Zoissette's perspective of how much time has passed is dramatically different from that of the Source. In the Source, it has been a short time. For Zoissette, it has been quite a lot longer.

.travel

I think this is the only one with a single screenshot. I lean more heavily on my writing abilities once more, and I think they speak for themselves.

.dungeon

Figures. Zoissette is having one of the worst days of her life, and the cats are napping. It took me a while to settle on a ghostly effect for the people 'yelling' at her, and I rather like how it turned out. We also are spending more time with Lavender. Hard decisions to be made, but just because they are hard does not mean they are difficult. Lavender and Zoissette are alike like that.

.deity

Some trivia. Zoissette's mom lost her right arm fighting a dragon, back before the Calamity. The Deity is supposed to be a mix of Halone and Zoissette's mother, and so, she, too, is missing her right arm.

.harvest

Reaper job unlocked. Un-edge-lording your edgelord jobs since at least 2016.

.hobbies

So while I was writing a follow-up story for The Incident, I was also trying to follow the Junelezen prompts. And one of my goals was that someone who was just here for Junelezen could just see the photo, nod, go 'ah that makes sense' and move on without having to know a damned thing about the Incident or about Zoissette. I probably did not succeed as well as I would have liked, but I did try.

Having said that, the location of the hobbies prompt in the middle of the others and what I had planned presented some real problems for me, and I did not solve it until pretty late. So we get this moment of downtime. I like how it turned out, but it sure did vex me getting there.

.winter

Back where we began. A lot has changed, a lot has stayed the same. There are a lot of subtle things I did intentionally throughout this story. In this shot, the shift to the skybox and lighting, as well as changing where they are sitting relative to the fence, were decisions I made on purpose.

Speaking of changes done on purpose, Y'zel-the-character's hair goes white as he once again overdoes it. We do recurring themes here, sir.

.cozy

I will stop composing shots of Zoissette and Y'shtola sitting like this the day I die. Also, seriously Y'zel, is NOW the time to be forcing that question??? Ridiculous, now we have -two- casualties.

.relaxing

Under the readmore, we spend more time with the science team, as they try to work out what to do next. But here...

A Relaxing Summary (by @matrixdragon)

I will let @matrixdragon provide the summary.

.fancy clothes

A schematic of the Aurora Laboratories Containment Suit. And two more questions from @matrixdragon, who picked up on my oh-so-subtle (okay no it wasn't) Babylon 5 reference. On that note, I adore the Babylon 5 questions, and I think they serve as an extremely useful framing tool for just about any character in any universe.

Some very touching possible answers from Y'shtola in Y'zel's reblog.

Midnight talk

Things are happening, and faster, now. I did not use a readmore or the reblog chain for these additional entries, which I made sure were scheduled for 2300 in my time zone every night. 1100 for the Junelezen post, 2300 for additional story posts. I keep to this plan for the rest of the run. These special additional entries I refer to as The Eleventh Hour.

.family

Thank you to everyone in these shots. I have a little story in my mind for each one. Maybe I will even write them one day.

The Trapeze Swinger remix (by @yzeltia)

As I go through these entries, I can tell how and where my skills are improving. I can say the same for Y'zel, whose 'tumblr AMV' skills expand. While they are all very good, this is one of his best works, in my opinion, and I found another new song through him.

Recovery plan

Another Eleventh Hour entry. You know, it's funny, this arguably all started because Zoissette was trying very hard to not be a burden on her FC or an inconvenience to anyone.

Sure seem to have inconvenienced a lot of people here.

The Last Contingency: Judgement Call (by @saesama)

This one stabs right in the feeling-parts, but somebody has to think of these things, and Zoissette isn't here to do it.

.holidays

Erick Gage (@erickgage) has something to say about this whole mess.

The Only Exception remix (by @yzeltia)

You may have invented the AMV. But Y'zel tumblrized it. Perfected its new form. And then he unleashed it upon us all.

Reconciliation

And truth, at last. I could say so much here. I elect to say nothing.

.free

The final shot was a pain to composite, and I am so proud of how it turned out.

.begin

One year, from Zoissette's perspective, give or take a lot. Two weeks for the world. But she's home again.

Ma there's a cat on the foot of my bed I don't know how it got there (but seriously, thank you @yzeltia :) )

BONUS SECTION

Imposter Syndrome! (by @starladyquasar)

Ladies, ladies, you're both beautiful. Though also seriously, Squeenix, give us more customisation options.

ELEZEVANGELION (by @yzeltia)

You want to know what it's like being part of the funniest FC? It's pretty great, I tell you what.

Anyroad. Special thanks to all of you - those who stopped to leave a comment, or found me on the moon during a screenshot session (you know who you are), or even those of you who just followed along, in whole or in part. And for those of you who were just here for Elezen shots, I hope you found something you liked in here!

[autumnslance]

writing patterns tag game

tagged by @reflectionsofacreator

Rules: List the first line of your last 10 posted fics and see if there’s a pattern.

I've not moved some things to Ao3 (like 2023 FFXIV Write yet, whoops), and ended up playing catch-up on a prompt challenge, also been doing more original writing than fanfic lately, but there's been a few things so let's see…

1) Being one of the saviors of the star had its perks in certain places. No one questioned Thancred’s presence in Thaumazein, nor his use of the Aitiascope’s elevator to reach the research platforms built in the shallows of the Aetherial Sea. -Fathers, Sons, and Brothers (for the Thancred Anthology)

2) It was so gradual, so natural, that Aeryn didn’t even realize it was happening at first. -Home Together (for the Year of the OTP prompts 2023)

3) The differences were so subtle, it was difficult to explain. Six years all told had passed, which was not many, but just enough. -Missing Scars (for the Year of the OTP prompts 2023)

4) [A letter in nearly type-perfect cursive font, the envelope also containing a pressed white flower yet retaining its sweet scent, delivered surreptitiously via postmoogle to the top of a certain gunbreaker’s pack…] -Need (for the Year of the OTP prompts 2023)

5) “This seems familiar,” Aeryn said as they shoved the old door closed against the howling winds. -Snowstorm (for the Year of the OTP prompts 2023)

6) “You know, I’ve been thinking,” Aeryn said slowly in the Thavnairian tongue as they watched the Garleans discuss the trade agreement and the upcoming use of the Tower. -Amity (for FFXIV Write 2023)

7) Those weren’t her eyes that she opened. -Contravention (for FFXIV Write 2023)

8) “The delegation from Werlyt is here,” the Resistance soldier said, voice rough. The temperature in the room seemed to cool as the Alliance representatives tried not to tense but did regardless. -Blunt (for FFXIV Write 2023)

9) “Ow. Ow. Ow.” -Sole (for FFXIV Write 2023)

10) And then She was there, her familiar bright warmth engulfing him in an embrace, though he had no true form. -Last (for FFXIV Write 2023; what I wrote, not counting the game quote that starts it)

--

I start with dialogue a chunk of the time. Also introspective observations/thoughts of characters who are the PoV or at least focus of the story. "Need" seems to break that mold, but only cuz that's set up for an entire letter of Aeryn's introspective yearning. I should work on more descriptive passages, especially for openers, maybe. Eh, we'll see.

Tagging: @saesama @driftward @scrollsfromarebornrealm @yzeltia @mintibunny @just-a-geeky-therapist

[eorziapple]

Stuck

Apple was lucky to be alive, and she owed that to the bravery of the team that had rescued her from that fate. Seeing as Starlight was just around the corner, she wanted to show her appreciation. It was the best way she could repay their bravery, after all. Admittedly eager to busy herself with a project while Krille and the researchers ran their tests on her, she got to work, and made the arrangements for gifts to be delivered at their quarters at the Starlight Celebration.

For Violet: She didn't know her well, she certainly wore an attitude well, confident around strangers certainly. Something practical? Apple settled on custom aspected gunblade cartridges. They were especially explosive, Apple suggested Violet would appreciate the volatile approach to combat.

For Minti: Minti was fairly upset with her, it was unfortunate, but Apple appreciated it a bit. She settled on an enchantment. It was certainly expensive, she wasn't permitted to use the Aether necessary to weave the enchantments herself, but arranging for an elaborate dancers dress aspected with ice would allow the Viera to dance alongside Suzaku without getting burned.

For Ryss: Technically this was cheating, she'd come across some Nymian texts from one of her fellow Sons of Saint Coinach detailing effects of fairies in battle that mirrored the one with hers. Boon magicks were apparently rare and not studied much before the fall of Nym, but with the wars between the three cities, plenty of spoils of war were dispersed and spread about all sorts of archeological sites. Ryss would enjoy the prospect of translating it.

For Meya: Meya struck Apple as a woman who appreciated experiences more than things, and her somewhat recent relationship was quite fun for most of the company to be around. It was little recompence for keeping her friends and her alive.. but one of Apple's few contact with the upper echelons of Limsa was with the Bismark. It was difficult to arrange but she'd managed to arrange for a private table on the captains deck, a privare balcony high up the limestone tower that the restaurant was build on. Experiencing the sunset with someone she loved alongside the finest cuisine in Eorzia would be something she know the Mi'quote would appreciate.

For Nyx: She had no idea, she settled for a letter requesting she repay the enigmatic person with… a meal? She admitted she mostly just wanted to speak with them, they were becoming more and more an academic curiosity for the young Hyur.

For Zoisette: …. there were several things she could think of, a custom sword, a prototype of the personal shield her and Ryss were working on, research materials and equipment. Sweets, anything homecooked, really. An introduction to the Headmaster, perhaps?

None of it felt like enough? Which was odd, it was somewhat easy to come up with something for everyone else, even when she was out of her depths, like with Nyx.

It was vexing… in fact, quite a bit was vexing recently, concerning Zoissette. She felt herself losing concentration quite a bit, getting distracted, missing parts of conversations. Maybe it would shake itself off, she was quite happy to begin training with her in swordplay, having already bought a few books to peruse so she wouldn't be completely out of her depth starting out.

She was stuck. Maybe she needed help. She'd never met Ement, but had seen him visiting the office every once in awhile. Now that she thought about it, Zoissette mentioned he would be coming around in a few days. It'd be a good opportunity to pick his brain about what she liked.

@biot08 @saesama @erickgage @mintibunny @yzeltia @healerstail