vizakethla

[vizakethla]

[vizakethla]

[vizakethla]

Banana Bread

TW: Strong Language, Depression, Allusions to Alcohol

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“I… I… I don’t really trust people.” 

The words barely manage to form. It’s not quite so much a stammer as much as it is a fight to pull the words out of her own mouth. Inflection rising and falling as she speaks, as if her voice is constantly unsure what will follow next. 

“I don’t stay with people.” 

The words ring out across the cold, wet boards of the ship. What the fuck am I doing? Why am I telling them this? She begins to sway in place. Small movements. Subtle enough that they could be written off as the rocking of the boat. Or at least that’s what she tells herself.

“I don’t stick around… because I’m stronger on my own.” 

So then, what the FUCK am I doing?! 

The bottle hanging limply at her side. Quietly clinking against a rivet on her pants with each sway. A slow, rhythmic pattern. The other hand gently caressing her own thigh in small circles. 

“I don’t travel with people. I don’t stay with people. I don’t ‘get to know people’.” 

As the words tumble out faster, the bite behind them grows. The animosity. The faces of her parents flash before her. Of Pax’ah. Of Ayleth. Of that shitty little cult that keeps trying to fuck with her. 

The cult… 

Home. 

She freezes, gaze falling to her feet. Her eyes dancing across the light tread marks her boots leave on the wood as she shifts her weight. As she shuffles. As all she wants to do is run. 

I can’t do this.

“Because people suck. People hurt. People are only ever in it for themselves.” 

The torment in her head grows hotter. Her heart races. Clink. Clink. Clink. 

I can’t fucking do this again. I can’t. I can’t. I won’t. 

More nightmares flash before her eyes. 

Notagainnotagainnotagain. It hurts. 

All consuming. Immolation. 

I don’t want to hurt people. I’m not like them. Why am I so fucking weak?! What is wrong with me?! Why does this keep happening? 

Fuck! 

No! 

No? 

No. 

AGHH Fuck it.

Long, drawn out breaths lap against the flames of the inferno. Dancing. Playing. Mocking. Clink. Clink. Clink. Her chest rising and falling more deeply with each thought she feeds into the fire. Fighting the consumption. Fighting herself. Always fighting.

“I don’t trust people…”

The words hang in the air. Hang on her tongue. 

“...but I’m trying to.” 

She stops. 

The small self soothing gestures. The gaze floating across the floor of the ship. The breathing she couldn’t quite control. The all consuming itch tearing at her skin to run and not look back. It all stops. It all goes quiet. The flashbacks, the doubt, the self loathing. They all stop…

At least for a moment. 

“But you said you were hungry!” her head suddenly shoots up. “Let’s go get some of that banana bread. I think I saw it packed in one of the crates over there.” 

She runs. She turns on her heel and makes an escape across the room. Rummaging through their belongings for the remnants of the dessert. 

Her smile finally starting to return to her face. It might have been warm. It might have been the heat radiating off the burning pain behind her eyes. She didn’t really know which. But that’s okay because no one else would know either.

[vizakethla]

Dirt

TW: Strong Language, Light Gore, Depression

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Thrack. 

An arrow cuts through the still, Shroud night. Burrowing itself into her target with a harsh crunch that rings out into the void of the woods.

Viza silently slips another arrow from her quiver, twisting it lightly between her thumb and middle finger. The fletching gently brushing against her skin with each spin. She nocks the arrow slowly and deliberately. Her head falling downward, aimlessly staring at her hands with no real focus. After a few long breaths, she brings herself together. Back straight. Head held upright. Feet planted. Pulling back the string to her cheek with a deep inhale, she holds in place. Her once lazily drifting gaze now narrowed and honed on the target. Fire burning behind her eyes, radiating out through the calm, cool night.

She lets go. 

Thrack.

Another arrow slices through the air before finding its mark. Yet Viza remains still. Posture rigid, weapon drawn. The inferno inside her only continuing to consume.

Thrack.

The dummy chips.

Thrack.

The rage burns.

Thrack.

Shot after shot crash into the target. Tearing. Destroying. Ripping apart all at its seams.

Thrack. Thrack. Thrack.

Viza’s breathing growing noticeably more erratic as each exhale fights against the lapping flames. Her sight remains fixed dead ahead, but she is no longer able to see through the fury. Instead the fire in her eyes dances with memories of missed shots against the voidsent. Each loosed arrow stabbing into her chest as the imps taunt her.

You need to be fucking better than that!

Thrack.

You’re worthless.

Thrack.

I thought this was one of the only things you were ACTUALLY supposed to be good at?

Thrack.

Haha! And you can’t even do that right! You’re fucking pathetic! You needed some innocent little healer to come to your rescue.

Thrack.

Disgusting.

A chain of failures continue to flash across her vision. Each one digging themselves in deeper and deeper. Tearing into her. Leaving scars beyond the reach of any healer. She lets out a primal yell as she descends upon her prey in a flurry of desperate self defense.

Thack. Thack. Thack.

Viza pulls her bleeding, splintered fists up to her face for another round. Unleashing a deep, guttural scream from the pit of her stomach.

Thack. Thack. Thack.

You’re nothing.

She continues punching through the mess of jagged wood that was once a training dummy. More skin tearing with each swing against the target. Her screams, slowly losing their strength as they shift into gasps of pain and anguish with each punch.

Thack. 

Thack. 

Thack.

Just give up.

Thud.

Viza crumples to the ground. Heavy, labored breaths, and the blood trickling between her fingers the only signs of life left behind after the blaze. A pile of ash laying fetal in the dirt.

I’m glad you’ve found your place.

[vizakethla]

[vizakethla]

Trust Me

TW: Mild Language, Suggestive Themes

---

Ayleth silently collapses onto the sofa, pulling her knees into her chest, and laying her head down on Viza’s shoulder. She nuzzles her face deeper into the miqo’te’s side, underneath an outstretched arm. 

“Rough day?” Viza asks, slowly rubbing her hand along the back of Ayleth’s head.

“Does something have to be wrong? Maybe I just want to cuddle with my beautiful girlfriend.” she replies, looking up with a teasing smile before promptly nestling herself even further into Viza’s side. Wrapping her arms around Viza’s torso for maximum squeezing.

“Ay, we both know I’m the clingy one in this relationship. For real, you seem stressed. What’s up?”

Ayleth lets out a melodramatic gasp. “I’m hurt!” she retorts, feigning upset. “The love of my life doesn’t even trust me!” She sits up, turning away from Viza. Bringing her palms to her face to wipe away imaginary tears.

Viza places a hand on Ayleth’s cheek, gently turning the hyur’s head towards her. “Seriously, what’s bothering you? You’ve seemed off lately.”

“I’m just a little tired... maybe you should take me to bed?” she responds, smiling again.

Viza grabs the two wrists still raised to Ayleth’s face and pushes her down onto her back. Swiftly jumping on top, pinning her in place, eye contact locked.

“Oh so maybe it will be a rough day…” Ayleth adds with a smirk.

Viza frowns.

“It’s nothing! Really. I just have to go to another stupid banquet tonight. It’s not a big deal, I just always hate these things. They wear me out.”

“Why go then?”

“I don’t know… Belmont asked me.”

“Oh, that’s easy then. Tell him you have to stay home and cuddle with your beautiful girlfriend.” Viza mocks, smiling playfully. “Besides, you’ve been going to a lot of them lately.” She leans in, her mouth next to Ayleth’s ear, “And I can think of some much better ways to wear you out.”

Ayleth grins wide before a sigh turns her lips back to a frown. “Unfortunately, I already told him I’d be there.”

“So cancel! Besides, why isn’t he going with his own girlfriend? I’m always hearing from people about how stunning she is. About how they make a perfect couple. About how they are always all over each other at these events.”

“Oh… yeah.” Ayleth replies slowly, dodging eye contact. “I guess he would huh?” The room falls into silence as time lingers. The air remains still. On edge. Afraid to disturb the tension.

Viza limply lets go of her wrists. She shifts her weight back, moving down to sit up on her legs. Turning to face the front of the sofa. Any trace of her smile long gone. Hands balled up on her lap. Eyes cast downward. Tail slowly flicking back and forth.

Ayleth carefully adjusts to sit up beside Viza, facing her. Taking a moment to compose herself, straightening out her top. “Look, you know how rumors are.”

Viza stays silent. Unmoving.

“And you know how important his family is right? They have connections to like, everyone. You know I can’t pass that up.” she continues, talking to the profile of Viza’s downturned face. “But he’s just some pompous, entitled ass who won’t leave me alone. He isn’t even worth the energy to think about! After all, you know you’re the one I love!” Ayleth exclaims with a forced smile. She leans in to give Viza a kiss on the cheek and a tight hug.

“Yeah…” Viza lets out weakly before tentatively returning the embrace. “I love you too.”

[vizakethla]

: What’s your muse’s biggest cause of stress or anxiety?

Growing up in a wealthy society that values money and power over all else. She quickly learned that everyone in her world was trying to manipulate people for their own gain, and their words carried no truth. Now, even when she meets someone who is genuinely kind and sincere, she is too afraid to trust them. Lately that has been Katalixi.

[vizakethla]

➜: What sort of things does your muse keep in their pockets on any given day?

Viza isn't organized enough to have a regular set of items on her. She is way more likely to just reach into her pockets and be surprised by what random junk she pulls out that she forgot about.

[vizakethla]

✿: Which one act in your muse’s past are they most ashamed of? Which one act in their past are they most proud of?

The answer to both questions is kind of the same. It was pushing so hard to protect her little sister Paxah. It tears her apart inside because she does hate herself for the state of their relationship. She does feel ashamed that she pushed her sister away.

But she also stands by her actions and feels she was only doing what was best. That even though she's sorry for how it turned out, and does blame herself, she doesn't see anything she did wrong. She knows she loves Paxah more than anything and was just trying to keep her safe.

Maybe that logic conflicts with itself but feelings are messy.

[vizakethla]

★: What is your muse’s idea of perfect happiness?

Viza's idea of perfect happiness is tough because it doesn't even seems possible to her at the moment. Deep down she wants so badly to have people in life who she feels she can trust, but she refuses to admit that would make her happy. She would just tell you the answer is booze and music.

[vizakethla]

Send a symbol for a headcanon about my muse.

◎: What is your muse’s most prized mundane possession? Why do they value it so much? ★: What is your muse’s idea of perfect happiness? ☩: Your muse is doing some intense spring cleaning. What is easy for them to throw out, and what is difficult for them to part with? ♠: What’s the worst thing your muse has done to someone they loved? ♢: In what situation would your muse feel most out of their comfort zone? ♣: What’s your muse’s biggest cause of stress or anxiety? ✚: What is the most frightening potential handicap or disfigurement your muse can conceive? What makes it so frightening? ✔: What did your muse want to be when they were a child? Did they go on to do this and if so, was it everything that they hoped it would be? Or has this desire changed since, and why? ❖: What is the attitude and appearance that your muse presents in public? How does this differ from the attitude they have in private, when they are alone? ✿: Which one act in your muse’s past are they most ashamed of? Which one act in their past are they most proud of? ➜: What sort of things does your muse keep in their pockets on any given day? ￭: If one of your muse’s friends was asked to describe them in a handful of words for a profile on a dating site, what would they say? ‽: Who or what, if anything, would your muse die for or otherwise go to extremes for? ▼: What would you find in your muse’s refrigerator right now? ♛: If your muse had to die, how would they like to go? And if they could come back as a person or animal, what would it be? ❸: Name three things your muse considers themselves to be very good at, and three things they consider themselves to be very bad at. ❦: If your muse was having a nightmare, what would be the worst one that they could suffer? ♫: What is one thing that your muse thinks they are talented at, but actually aren’t? ♞: Who was your muse’s idol when they were growing up? Who did they first fantasize about being like? ✱: What is your favourite ‘happily ever after’ for your muse? And what’s your most unconventional ‘ever after’ headcanon for them (happily or otherwise)? ✦: What is your muse’s fondest childhood memory? ♯: What would be the perfect gift for your muse? ❤: What is your muse’s perfect romantic date? ☮: When and where was your muse happiest? ☥: If events in your muse’s life had gone very differently to how they did, what would they have done with their life? What sort of occupation might they have chosen for themselves and would they, in your opinion, be happier than they are now? ☢: If your muse knew that they were going to die in 24 hours, name three things they would do in the time they had left. ☠: What is the one thing for which your muse would most like to be remembered after their death? ✎: Growing up, did your muse have a teacher or mentor figure? What was their relationship like? ✄: How does your muse perceive themselves, both internally and externally? How does this differ from how other people may see them? ✈: Was your muse popular as a child? Did they have many friends, and are they still in touch/still aware of what they are doing with their lives now? ♐: What is your muse particularly unskilled at? ☯: Who, if anyone, does your muse consider to be their best friend?

[vizakethla]

[vizakethla]

Fishing For Answers

TW: Strong Language, Alcohol Use, Light Violence, Suggestive Themes

---

“I could have fucking exploded! Do you understand that?!” Viza exclaims, grabbing the roegadyn by his collar and roughly shaking him. She lets go of her grip, placing her hand flat on his chest and pushing him back a step. Suddenly darting forward, she leans in “Like… BOOM!” she yells, screaming directly into his face. Taking a step back, she reaches to her lips for one last chug, downing the remainder of her beer before falling roughly into her seat. Kicking her feet up onto the table, in one surprisingly fluid motion.

The roe, putting on a half formed smirk, attempts to straighten out his shirt, flattening it under his palms as he regains his footing. “Contract work can be dangerous. Why don’t you let someone big and strong…” he barely has time to start his sentence before Viza shifts toward him, slamming her fist on the table. 

“Fuck no! It’s so badass!” she says, leaping back to her feet. “You should have seen it! There were all these colorful crystals, and she did all these crazy hand motions.” She gestures wildly and incoherently. “Then it was all like bzshoomp and everything was glowing!” Her flush face scrunches briefly. “What did you say your name was again?”

“Hartroeg.” he replies, eyes wide with bewilderment. Collecting himself, painting on his smirk once more, he continues, “But you can call me Fish cause…”

“So Hort, want to buy me another one?” Viza cuts him off again, sliding her empty beer across the table towards him. The man’s jaw begins to clench, grinding his remaining teeth together. He quickly opens his mouth, shifting his weight towards her. But before he could even speak, she leans forward, elbows on the table in front of her, looking straight into Hartroeg’s eyes. “After all, a nice cold beer tastes so good with, Fish.” she says slowly. Each word, dripping off her tongue.

With a long sigh, he turns and heads off in the direction of the bartender. She falls back into her seat, swinging her feet back up onto the table. Neatly crossing them as she gently kicks along to the music being performed by a bard in the corner of the room. The warm sea air blowing hair across her lightly red face. After a few moments, ‘Hort’ returns carrying two more beers.

“Would ya ever join a cult?” Viza asks, leaning back even further in her seat.

“Uhh what?” He sets the drinks down on the table, one in front of himself and the other at her feet. Squinting at her as he sits down.

“Kat’s home or whatever you want to call it.” She places heavy air quotes around the word home. 

“Who’s Kat?”

She leans in to grab the drink before settling down in her seat again. Tilting her head back and staring at the ceiling. “No one’s that nice. They always want something from you. That pretty bartender over there? She doesn’t care about your day, she just wants your gil. That merchant sitting at that table? He couldn’t give two shits about making sure you get a good product. Heck, you? You’re just hoping I get drunk enough to fuck you.”

“...” Hartroeg begins to grumble, sitting up straight. Opening his mouth…

“But what does she want from me?” She continues, completely ignoring the roe yet again. His fists clenching tighter and tighter. Viza tips forward to take a sip before letting her head fall back with a sigh. “What could someone like her possibly want from someone like me? Ughhh, you’re all the same.”

He shoots out of his seat, sending the chair flying backwards across the floor with a loud clatter. Stomping towards Viza, he stands above her. “Enough of this!” he bellows, spit flying from the corners of his mouth. “Do you have any idea who I am?! How many I’ve killed for less?”

She downs the rest of her glass, dropping it to the table, before nimbly jumping to her feet. Slapping the man firmly on his back. “You’re right! Fuck it! Worrying about this isn’t worth my time. I am better off on my own. Thanks Hark.” she proclaims, turning to leave. 

Veins now bulging off every muscle he has, the man grabs for her, unaware of the seat she had quietly slid between them. He comes crashing down with a loud thud. The full weight of his body flipping over the chair.

Without so much as a glance back, Viza slowly walks out of the inn. “Or maybe I will run into her again…” she whispers to herself.

[vizakethla]

[vizakethla]

Viza Kethla - Carrd

The fire burning inside this Miqo'te is palpable. All consuming. Ever searching for kindling to redirect the flames.

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This blog will contain mature language and themes. Any potential TW will be added to the best of my ability, but please be advised when reading.

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General Tag List

vizgnette - general tag for short scenes, glimpses into Viza's life

vizscreenshot - general tag for screenshots

vizaprompts - tag for any prompts/questions about her

vizaooc - rare out of character posts I make

more will be added as I post more!

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Story Specific Tags

vizakat - any posts related to her storyline with Katalixi Ouroboros

vizalyselle - any posts related to her storyline with Lyselle Dawnsinger

vizasabl - any posts related to her storyline with Sabl Artena

vizalunedor - any posts related to her storyline with Lunedor Arcanashaper

[vizakethla]

Hello!

This is likely to be one of my only out of character posts, so thank you for stopping by! I'm fairly new to both FFXIV and RP and I'd love to meet more folks in the community. If you have a character blog, post RP logs, screenshots, glams, character prompts, or whatever else, please let me know! I'd love to find some new awesome people to follow.

[vizakethla]

Cupcakes and Anarchy

TW: Strong Language

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Viza stands lost in the silence. Tentatively biting at her bottom lip, cupcakes hanging limply at her side. Her gaze lingering on the shop door, not quite strong enough to pull away. Not quite trying to pull away. Not quite there. Lost. Defenseless. Time in the void drifts slowly forward. Her chest rises and falls with long, drawn out, even breaths. The corners of her mouth curl slowly into a warm, shy smile. Free hand beginning to gently rub her other arm. Smoothly swaying across the balls of her feet. Light as a cloud. Falling away. Drifting.

From behind, a quiet “Ahem.” pulls her back down. Ripping her out of the liminal space that had held her mind captive.

Viza jumps and spins at the sudden noise. By the time she hits the ground, her smile is gone. Fists tense, eyes cutting across the store like knives. “FUCK!” she exhales with a slight growl. “Gabe!” She gestures dramatically at him before turning on her heel and storming out of the store, slamming the door behind her.

“Stupid…” she mutters to herself, walking hurriedly down the road. The rest of her words lost as they trail behind, falling to the roadside. “Who the hell does she think she is? Don’t act like you know better than me.” her voice burning with fury. “No, worse. Don’t act like you… care.” With a hard kick of the dirt and gravel, the word brings her to a sudden halt. Hastily reaching into the bag, she pulls out a cupcake and bites off the top in one, smooth motion.

“I’mssoffuckingddone,Isswear.” The words barely able to escape through the mass of frosting and cake in her mouth. “Nommoreooftthisffakebbullshit.” She swallows.