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Prompt 18: Devil's Advocate

Gyr Abania | 4th Umbral Moon | 1570

A droplet of water fell from the ceiling of the cave and landed on the back of Jun’s neck. It slithered its way down the back of their shirt and tickled down their spine as they bent back over the small cookfire. The fat dripping from the leg of aldgoat sizzled in the flames as they turned it again.

“Look, I’m just sayin’ we could head west ‘cross the desert. Heard there’s an enclave near Ul’dah before we got outta the city.” The tall highlander woman was giving E’vasi an annoyed stare as the Miqo’te continued to ignore her. Jun could feel the tension in the air crackling like sparks amid dry tinder.

“Ain’t got enough food stored up for that,” one of the other Ala Mhigans said with a grunt as he stood and spat off into the back of the cave.

“Well we can damn well forage some up!” The woman’s voice had gained a slightly hysterical note to it and Jun sighed as they pushed themselves to their feet.

“We could, but the Shroud is much closer,” they tried to keep their voice soft, but the woman, Hilde they thought her name was, only seemed to grow more irritated.

“Who the fuck asked for your input, hare-brains?” she groused.

“Enough, Hanne,” E’vasi voice was calm and yet somehow it cut through the conversation like a knife. The little miqo’te had quickly risen to take charge of the small group of escapees, and Jun had an inkling that she’d seen more summers than her small frame and child-like face let on.

“I’m just sayin--”

“Enough. We’re Shroud bound and then if you and the rest wanna fuck off to the desert y’all can be my guests. Until then, we stick together.” The air of authority in the woman’s voice left no room for argument, and Jun took the opportunity to steer the conversation in a more productive direction.

“Dinner should be ready in a few moments, if anyone wants to get in line?” As the group settled into the dinner hierarchy Jun shot E’vasi a concerned glance, but the miqo’te just shrugged in response.

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Prompt 17: Destruct

Gyr Abania | 4th Astral Moon | 1570

Jun held their breath as they watched Caelia's hands flying over the terminal, her long, pale fingers plucking the shivering blue lights like strings on an instrument. For all the time they'd spent with the woman these last few months they couldn't fathom what exactly was going through her head as she entered code after code, and worked her way around the obstacles she'd explained were there, but which Jun couldn't see.

Behind them they could hear Octavian pacing in frustration, but the chair prevented them from turning away from the terminal. It was for the best. The man's brash confidence had rubbed Jun the wrong way from the very start, and they were eager to escape the Garleans and the resistance both if only to flee the man's intolerable temper. How Caelia had managed to work alongside him for all these months was a mystery.

"How much longer," the Highlander growled, and Jun winced as they saw Caelia's eyes narrow and her mouth pull into a moue of frustration.

"Just a moment," her pace redoubled and suddenly where there'd been sizzling blue symbols on a black screen there was now an array of lines describing the space beneath the outpost's garrison. "Got it," Caelia sighed in triumph as Jun sagged back against the chair.

"Finally, fuck." Octavian strode to the screen, looking up at it with a critical eye before jabbing a stout finger at the upper left corner. "There. Exhaust chute. We'll have Chici set one of the Gamma units up to auto-destruct as our diversion and move the prisoners out there."

"Good," Caelia nodded in response before turning to Jun, "And you can get the passcode?"

"If you can get me something of the man's that he uses while putting it in, yes." Jun repeated their needs for what felt like the hundredth time. "It must be something they hold while doing it."

"Yeah, yeah," Octavian mumbled, "Access card. Should do the trick. Look are you sure--"

Caelia shot the man a look, "They're sure."

Octavian's jaw snapped shut, but his eyes flashed in a way that Jun didn't like. The man was angry they hadn't agreed to stay and continue helping. Part of them wanted to, sympathized surely, but they couldn't deny the pull, the certainty that they were needed elsewhere. They gave Caelia an appreciative nod.

"Then let's stop wasting our fucking time and get to it," Octavian growled and stalked towards the room's only exit.

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Prompt 16: Crane

Bozja | 2nd Umbral Moon | 1570

There was pressure around Jun’s eye, and along with it, pain. The pressure resolved itself as firm fingers pushed their eyelids open, and a bright glow of light shone between them. The world beyond the light was dim and fuzzy, and Jun’s head spun with pain and disorientation.

“You’ll be alright,” the woman’s voice was calm, and Jun was startled to realize that they recognized it. Caelia kir Astrum. Though their world was still shrouded in pain and darkness they felt themselves relax against her hand as she probed their injuries further, her voice quiet in the darkness. “Hold still a moment.”

And then there was a light tingling sensation throughout their body, and the pain dimmed for a moment. The pressure in their head evaporated, and the ache in their face dulled, but did not disappear entirely. Jun heard Caelia sigh as the sensasion stopped, “That’s all I can do for now. Too much and they’ll notice, but you should be able to see now.”

Jun hesitated, then forced one eye open, and then the other, relieved to find the world had resolved itself into clarity once again. Caelia’s face hovered a few ilms from their own, her tawny eyes hard with anger and concern. Jun licked their lips craning their neck this way and that as they whispered softly, “Thank you, Caelia.”

The woman made a soft hissing sound as she sucked in the breath between her teeth and squinted at the Viera. She doesn’t know who I am. Jun made the realization with a soft pang of regret. Of course she wouldn’t know them. The memories Jun had of her weren’t their own. They’d been Baztun’s. The Hrothgar’s fear and anger and growing admiration for the woman was woven into the steel of his weapon, but there was no way she could know that. Her amber colored eyes fixed themselves on Jun.

“Baztun sent me,” they whispered, and watched as the woman’s face tensed.

As they forced themselves up onto their elbows they watched as she turned around and flicked the small light source off again.

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Prompt 15: Thunderous

Bozja | 2nd Astral Moon | 1570

The sound of the airship's engines spinning into life echoed down through the metal struts of the deck's walls and across the cold steel floor beneath Jun's feet. The sound of them thundered in their ears, rattled their bones, and threatened to shake every ilm of them apart as the strange dirigible ground its way skyward. Every mote of Mist seemed to bend as Jun felt the ship lifting from the ground, as if they were changing themselves to align with what the ship wanted.

The grimy, dust-covered slit of a window showed the gran and brown scrub land of Bozja falling away beneath them as the airship conquered the sky. A sick feeling twisted at Jun's belly as they watched it fade into a shroud of white mist. They'd worked so hard to reach that shore, only to fail in their mission on the very doorstep of their goal.

The metal beneath their feet groaned again as the ship turned, the cloud outside the window turning orange and then brilliant gold as they emerged from it like a fish rising from the sea. The setting sun burnished the inside of the brig and the other prisoners crammed within it. The golden bars of light slowly crept as the ship turned, until it was facing into the sun, churning its way west.

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Prompt 14: Commend

Bozja | 2nd Astral Moon | 1570

Jun lay face down in the dirt, breathing in the tarnished air of the war-ravaged southern shore of Ilsabard. Their hands were shackled behind them, and they could feel the faint trickle of blood as it leaked out of their aching nose. It wet the sand beneath their face, and Jun tried to focus on how cool the sand and the misty air was rather than on the pain of their injuries.

Off to one side they could hear men talking, their voices echoing and metallic in a way that ignited a burning feeling of anger inside of them. The Garleans' voices grew closer as they walked down the line of beached and bound pirates.

"... will want to commend you for finally addressing this particular thorn in their sides. I'd expect you'll find your requests for additional mechanics to be met, and then some." The voices lingered nearby, and Jun tried to focus on telling the difference between the two. Their metallic voices making it hard to distinguish.

A boot crunched near their head and Jun held their breath as a hand grasped at the collar of their shirt, rolling them over roughly. A stinging slap drew a grunt of protest from Jun, despite their attempts to stay quiet and the soldier's metal voice laughed as they were dragged to their feet. "Take this one down to the river. Might be one worth questioning."

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Prompt 12: Preternatural (pick your own)

The Ruby Sea | 4th Umbral Moon | 1569

Thunder echoed across the water, and Jun held onto the rigging with a white-knuckled grip as the boat's hull smashed down into the valley of the wave. The motion sent a swell of bile up their throat as they waited for the ship to right itself, and then scrambled upwards another yalm before the ship dipped again and they were forced to hold on or be thrown into the fury of the Ruby Sea.

The rain that sluiced down their back wasn't the only reason Jun felt gooseflesh creeping up along their back as they fumbled with the ropes. Neither for the first nor last time they swore that if they made it back to shore they'd never set foot on a ship ever again.ed to do, and as they reached the boom of the main sail they crawled along it, wet and shaking fingers finding rain-slicked ropes by feel and memory.

The ship lurched and there was a loud cracking sound as Jun's head whipped around in time to see a part of the ships railing break away under the force of a massive wave that swept across the deck. For a moment there was only the sound of rain and wind and the creak of the ship and Jun feared that the first mate and the rest on deck had been swept out into the furious sea. Then to their relief the voice was back, and they could hear the others sounding off as they pulled themselves out of the wash of ankle-deep salt water.

Just as Jun turned back to strain once again at the ropes that would raise the sail and spare them the brunt of the wind's fury a bolt of lightning illuminated the forecastle. There, standing amidst the storm like a pillar of preternatural calm amidst the storm was Bhati, the Au Ra's tail listing slightly to starboard as he stared off into the storm.

The rain that slucied down their back wasn't the only reason Jun felt gooseflesh creeping up along their back as they fumbled with the ropes. Neither for the first nor last time they swore that if they made it back to shore they'd never set foot on a ship ever again.

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Ali Pound Falls (by Bo Wen HUANG)

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Prompt 13: Oneirophrenia

Sea of Jade | 1st Astral Moon | 1570

"Njah?" Lenja's voice sounded strained, and Njah looked over to the Veena with an appraising eye. The snare she had been setting was hung loose from the sapling, the leather cord dangling around the trunk. They stood then, wiping the knife blade on the cloth that hung from their belt.

"You set it too low again," their voice wasn't intended to chide, but Lenja flushed and laughed anyway. Her pale skin turned a faint crimson as she stepped to the side.

"Show me again," Her hands were at work untangling the leather, and Njah could see now the glimmer of mischief in her eye as they approached.

"Lenja," their voice was soft as they reached to take her hand, wrapping it around the knife's handle as they shifted to clasp their fingers over hers.

The vision rippled like the surface of a pool.

Their fingers closed over hers and Lenja could feel the heat rising in her stomach as Njah moved her hands in the familiar motion of notching the sapling's trunk with the knife and bending it so that the leather sat neatly within the groove of green wood.

"See?" They said gently, with a patience she knew she wouldn't have if she'd been in their shoes.

"No," she said with a laugh, twining her fingers into theirs as they gripped the knife hilt together. She could feel their heart beating hard and fast in their chest. Her snare work might be atrocious, but as she slid her hand from the blade-

The pool rippled again.

Njah looked up at Lenja as she turned to face them, her hands sliding around their shoulders. Her smile told them she'd caught the prey she'd really been after, and as Njah felt her mouth closing over their own they tossed the knife to the ground.

The vision spat them out again, and Jun couldn't help but feel a wave of dizzy heat and longing at the memory trapped within their blade. They remembered that day, of course, but the details had long since faded. How had they forgotten the way Lenja's mouth had dimpled when she'd smiled? Or the smell of her hair as they'd guided her hand again and again?

And of course, there were the parts of the memory that they did not recall. The way their own hand had felt on hers, or the feeling of their ragged heart beating against her back. Those were Len's memories, not theirs. It made their heart ache to feel her again, yet part of them was ashamed to intrude on her memories this way. They simply couldn't help themselves. Of all the memories they had seen so far this was the easiest to return to, the clearest, and the most vivid.

They set the simple hunting knife down and reached for the strange weapon - the gunblade - they corrected themself. Its once odd weight now felt right in their hands as they lifted it, one hand on the hilt, the other lightly supporting the blade as they rested it in their lap and closed their eyes.

This one was more difficult. The gunblade was a weapon of war, and the man had been a soldier all his life. It was harder to pick up on the memories of the huge Hrothgar when they were so calmly seated in the security of the ship's hold, but they focused on the feeling of his soul as it ricocheted around within the blade. This time they held themself still as the memory rippled and opened to them.

The battle stretched out over a rocky landscape, and around him he could see his brothers falling beneath the Garlean onslaught. The strength in the occupier's weapons overwhelming in its force as it drove the small resistance force back into the canyon.

There was an explosion above him, and on instinct his blade lifted skyward, its chamber reeling as he forced the aether through its chambers. The crystalline shape of the shield burst outward as he bellowed, "Go! Get back!"

"Baztun!" A voice, maybe Peorn's, called frantically from behind them.

"No!" The word burst from him, hot with fear and anger, "Go now!"

He thought, or perhaps he hoped, that he heard his brothers retreating, but before he could truly be sure the magic shattered and the stones crashed down around him. Then everything was still.

This memory ejected Jun more roughly, like a spinning stone hurled from a sling. They felt dizzy, and for a moment they struggled to breath, as if a huge weight had landed on their chest. With a sober grimace Jun lay the weapon back on the mat and raised their hands to their face, breathing in slowly as they recovered from the disorientation.

Amid the sick feeling of the memory's withdrawal Jun felt a thrill of triumph. Baztun. At last, after three years, at last they had a name.

Baztun.

Baztun.

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between boughs #2

August 2021

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Prompt 11 - Preaching to the Choir

The Ruby Sea | 4th Umbral Moon | 1569

The flat expanse of the sea spread out all around the becalmed ship like a smooth blue mirror of the sky. From their perch atop the main sail’s boom, Jun could see nothing but blue above and below, as if the ship was the only thing left in the world aside from the sun and the sea. The limp sails that hung beneath them gave a half-hearted flutter, but the only indication they were moving at all was the occasional splash of a lethargic wave.

“Hoy, if y’ain’t seen anythin’ yet mayhap y’could listen out fer the mainland, eh? Them ears oughta come in handy one o’ these days,” The broad shoulder roegadyn beneath them guffawed as he teased them, his red face split by a wide grin. “C’mon down then, rabbit. Ain’t need ya to tell me there ain’t no wind out here. Preachin’ to th’damn choir that is.”

The first mate’s teasing had become an ever present part of life aboard the ship, but Jun found him easy enough to ignore and the big pink-faced roegadyn didn’t seem to hold them any ill intent. It hadn’t been easy coming to that determination. The crew of the Graceless Wave had taken Jun aboard out of desperation, not desire, and they’d had to earn their place aboard the vessel by perseverance alone. Everything about the group was so different than what they were used to. Despite the fact that they understood every word out of their mouths their mannerisms were foreign and their expressions meaningless. Jun understood the words, but none of the intent. They’d found thus far that remaining silent and keeping their hands to their work made up for all manner of misunderstandings.

Jun climbed down the mast’s rigging with ease and dropped in a crouch on the deck’s surface. They’d taken to the task of climbing into the sails and navigating the complex mass of ropes and canvas as if they’d been born to the task. After all, it wasn’t all that much different from climbing the tall boughs of the jungle, nor was it more complicated than repairing the ancient rope walkways and bridges of Sunja-Atel. Their name had changed, and they’d cut their hair near up to their ears, but their fingers couldn’t forget where they’d come from.

As Jun moved to make the marks on the ships log to indicate another hour without wind nor sight of land the ship's captain strode out from beneath decks. The woman’s diminutive stature seemed even more sharp in comparison with her laughing first mate, but the keen gleam in her eye never let Jun forget who was actually in charge between the two of them.

“Nothing?” Makota asked, her voice resigned as she looked over Jun’s shoulder.

“Not so far,” they admitted. “Not of land, nor ships, nor of clouds on the horizon.”

“Fuck this damn calm,” she spat and turned to look at the roegadyn again. “Holskaent. Walk with me.”

The pair wandered up to the topdeck, exchanging words over what to do in the calm, and how it would impact their cargo and deliveries. Jun watched them go with a curious expression and then turned back to look out across the sea.

“Wind’ll be coming up out of the westerlies tomorrow,” the man’s strange voice cut through Jun’s thoughts and they turned to him. The scales that covered his face and the backs of his exposed arms still sent a strange shiver down the Viera’s spine, as did the curving, polished black horns. The Au ra’s gleaming yellow and green eyes were fixed on their own, and Jun couldn’t shake the impression that he could see much more than he let on.

“What makes you say that?” Since coming aboard the ship Jun had given Bhati a wide berth. The man was strange in a way that Jun couldn’t quite place, and it left them feeling naked and disarmed.

“The wind told me,” Bhati said with the confidence of someone who was either in their cups or deeply deranged.

“There is no wind,” Jun replied with a hesitant glance around, as if despite all the evidence to the contrary the man’s words had made them doubt their own senses.

“Not yet,” he said, averting his gaze out across the ocean to the west. “But there will be.”

Jun didn’t respond then, merely watched the western horizon as if they could see what Bhati was trying to tell them about. The tense moment passed and the Au ra laughed as he unfolded, standing to his full height with a tense grace that made Jun feel as small as a kit again. He looked back at Jun then and the Viera flinched as they locked eyes again. Bhati just smiled in that sharp-toothed way that made the hair on the back of their neck stand on end.

The rest of the crew was fine. But this one had Jun sleeping with one eye open.

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An adventure Hunters packer basics. Sometimes one just need to spontaneously get up and go, with no notice, reason or why.

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/ / Dark Forest / /

/ / Background / Lockscreen / /

Anonymous asked: Could you do a background with gold and the theme of the dark forest? If possible, i want it to have somehow a divine aura, like entering in the divine dark forest.

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Prompt 10: Heady

Village of Wolt | 6th Astral Moon | 1567

Njah’s feet dangled over the edge of the watch platform, the whole of the village spread out beneath their high perch. From here the comings and goings of their home seemed so small, so distant. The feeling of being removed from the center of things, of looking down with this new perspective made their head feel clear even as their heart ached with the sight of it.

Behind them the ladder creaked, but that was no surprise. They’d seen Petra and Mjret crossing the central platform only moments ago, and there was no doubt that the pair knew exactly where to find Njah if they’d wanted to. A moment later Petra slid next to them, draping one arm around their shoulder as Mjret sat to their other side. In her hand she held a small clay jug, which she pressed into Njah’s hands without a word. The pungent aroma of the liquor burned their nostrils as they sniffed it, and then drank, passing the jug onto Petra before leaning into their friends’ embrace.

“Are you sure you want to leave?” Mjret’s voice was as quiet as ever, but there was a roughness at the edges of it that made Njah’s chest tighten.

“No,” they admitted softly. “But I have to.”

“You don’t have to,” Petra answered back. “We can figure this out. Whatever’s going on, you know we and the kits will help. Vejn will help. Hells, even that old hag Ysolde would help if you asked her to.”

“I do have to,” Njah answered, turning to the flame haired doe with a sad smile. “Even without the trouble I’ve caused I… something out there is calling to me. I need to go and find out what it is.” They looked away then, the village below them blurring as tears filled their own eyes, “It’ -- it’s just so hard to leave.”

Petra passed the jug back, and Njah sat looking at it for another long moment before drinking again, savoring the sweet tang of citrus and the woody muddle of spices. Their chest burned with it, and with the heady mix of emotions that swirled inside them. They felt Petra and Mjret’s arms tighten around their back and they sighed as they closed their eyes, losing sight of the village for a moment as they lingered in the women’s arms.

“How did the kits take it?” Mjret asked at length.

“Better than I did,” Njah admitted. “They’ve all got their own lives now. They’re sad to see me go, certainly, but they’re all tangled up in their own concerns.” A soft chuckle broke through their tears, “All this time I thought Varha would be the one to leave me behind.”

“Honestly, so did I,” Petra groused softly. “But if any of them follow after you I suspect it’ll be Kjma.”

Njah raised a brow at that, leaning back a bit to catch the taller doe’s eye, “Really?”

“Mmmhm,” Mjret sighed, “Oh I don’t think it’ll be soon, but she’s been feeling restless lately. I can tell.” She shook her head and gave Petra a knowing look. “I remember that same look on your face when we first met, so maybe she’ll find someone and settle down after all. Time will tell.”

Petra laughed, her face a little tense, “Mists. I’d half forgotten that I’d planned to leave.”

“We’re all lucky Mjret talked you out of it,” Njah smiled, then gave the jug back to Mjret. “Though if you’re planning to use the same tactic on me I’m not sure that you’ll have much luck.” Their voice rang with quiet amusement, masking the ache they felt at the notion that such a thing might have ever crossed the women’s minds.

“Don’t tempt me, Njah!” Mjret laughed. “If I thought that’d work I’d have tried it, assuming Petra didn’t beat me to the tactic.” The teasing tone in her voice sobered as she caught her wife’s glance, “We’re both truly going to miss you, and I know the kits will too.”

“I know,” Njah leaned in, wrapping the smaller doe in their arms. “If I could stay, I would.” The memory of the vision, as clear as it had been the day they’d first seen it, sprung to Njah’s mind then, as if it was unwilling to let them forget even for a moment the reasons they had for leaving. They pushed back against it, tamping down the vision of fire and stars, willing themselves to the present. “I’m going to miss you all so very much.”

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Character Summary: Tam Lethe

Alias/Nicknames: Tam Lethe (alias / city name), Nema (what their daughters call them)

Gender: Non-binary

Age: 77

Zodiac: Byregot - Lightning (Cancer)

Abilities/Talents: Scouting and Tracking | Foraging | Childcare | Self-reflection | Meditation | Picking up New Weapon Skills | Oddly good at Baking | Navigation | Overthinking Things | Standing Up For Themselves (finally) | Tree Climbing | Excellent Listener | Having Big Grandparent Energy | Eyeliner Application | Self Care |

Alignment: lawful / neutral / chaotic / good/ neutral / evil / true

Religion: Since coming to Eorzea Tam has developed an affinity for Oshcon.

Sins: envy / greed / gluttony / lust / pride / sloth / wrath

Tam isn't lazy, but they tend to get discouraged by things and end up taking a lot of time to come around to motivating themselves again. This can also come across as apathy when nothing else is further from the truth. They care a LOT about EVERYTHING.

Virtues: charity /chastity / diligence/ humility / justice / kindness/ patience

Languages: Tam has the Echo so technically they understand all languages. They also don’t have a great understanding of what the Echo is, and they had not left the Viera homelands before manifesting it, so they just kinda think everyone vibes with the way they speak and haven’t thought too much about it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Family: Vohnt Atoel (father), Ehjne Camoa (mother), Thalja Camoa (half-sister), Irya Wolt (daughter), Kjma Wolt (daughter), Varha Wolt (daughter), Nevja Wolt (grand-child)

Friends: Vejn Atoel (mentor / foster-father / BFF), Bjera Sunja, Mjret Wolt, Petra Wolt, Lejne Sunja, Herjn Atoel, Hfyrn Leshny

Sexuality: heterosexual / bisexual / pansexual / homosexual / demisexual / asexual / unsure / other

Relationship Status: single/ partnered / married / widowed / open relationship / divorced / not ready for dating yet / it’s complicated

Tam has had a lot of partners in the past but never been in love with any of them. They are vaguely wanting to find Lenje out there somewhere, but not necessarily for a romantic relationship. Though also not-not necessarily either.

Libido: sex god / very high / high / average / low / very low / non-existent

Build: slender / average / athletic / muscular / curvy / other

Hair: white / blonde / brunette / pink / red / black

Eyes: brown / blue / gray / green / black / other

Skin: pale/ fair / olive / light brown / brown / dark / other

Height: 70 ilms (5' 10”)

Scars: They have a few faint scars on their upper arms and one across their stomach.

dogs or cats || birds or bugs || snakes or spiders || coffee or tea || ice cream or cake || fruits or vegetables || sandwich or soup || magic or melee || sword shield dagger or bow || summer or winter || spring or autumn || past or future

A few songs that remind you of them:

We Will All Be Changed - Seryn

Featherstone - The Paper Kites

Spirit Cold - Tall Heights

Carry You - The Native Sibling

Tagged by: @luck-and-larceny who I hope doesn't mind the tag spam

Tagging: YOU and you and You.

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Prompt 9: Friable

Interrupting Tam's journey out of Dalmasca with a short feature for Tristan. Thanks to @porxienapper for letting me borrow Cassidy and for helping me to get her right. <3

Horizon | 5th Astral Moon | 1577

The inside of Drest Salvage & Miscellany had seen busier days, but if the slim, bookish looking owner cared about the lack of business she didn’t seem to show it. At the moment Tristan was lost deep in the belly of the construct that had been dismantled and strewn across her desk, the pieces of the joint unit no longer as neatly arranged as when she’d begun some hours ago. Now they were a cacophony of mistakes, a riot of wrong turns and ineffective results. At the center of her dilemma lay several small, concave discs that should have fit around the top of the knee assembly. With a weary sigh she leaned back in her chair, covering her face with her long fingers as she stretched the weary muscles of her back.

The bell at the door jangled abruptly and Tristan spread her fingers the tiniest bit so she could peek through them and the slatted divider to catch a glimpse of who was at the door. She wasn’t entirely sure she was up for the interruption of a customer, but then she spied the swaying green tinged curls and sun worn leather hat and smiled. Tris kicked back from the desk, her chair rattling loudly on the stone tiles as she scooted out from the small alcove and into Cassidy’s view, “Cassy, save me.”

The woman dropped a brown paper sack of groceries on the counter top that divided the main shop floor from the back area, and leaned over to snag a brief kiss from Tristan. As she swept her green curls over her shoulder she winked, her Thanalan drawl heavy with amused affection, “Hells, that’s my specialty. What’s got your knickers twisted, sugar?”

“Oh,” Tris groaned, having hoped that the woman would sweep past her actual request. “It’s this damnable knee joint. I’m trying to find something to act as a meniscus and keep the metal bearings from grinding each other to bits, but everything I’ve tried so far is too damn friable.” She gestured vaguely to her desk, and the discs spread across its surface. “I’m about ready to give up entirely.”

Cassidy’s face scrunched up as she looked at Tris, leaning over the counter to peer at the mess of the desktop. “Well, I’d offer to knock heads with you over it, but I ain’t got the slightest idea what ‘friable’ even means.” Her smile widened as she teased her hands through the fringe of hair that had escaped Tristan’s tight bun. “Sounds like somethin’ you do to eggs.”

Tristan snorted a soft laugh and leaned forward to snag one of the discs, holding it up for Cassidy to take, “It means it's likely to crumble or crack under pressure, see how bits of this latex disc are fraying off already?”

Cassidy rolled the disc between her fingers, holding it up to the workshop's lights as she squinted at it. “Aw, yeah. That’ll get ground to bits in no time flat, won’t it?”

“Yes,” Tris sighed, “And the rest of this I’ve tried is all the same. I need something hard, and naturally slick, or else something that’ll take a decent lubricant and not absorb it.” Her face flushed crimson as she looked back over at Cassidy to find the woman bouncing her eyebrows suggestively at the line of thought. “Oh, you know what I mean.”

“I do,” Cassidy laughed with a wink as she grabbed Tristan’s hand, “but c’mon and let’s have some dinner, darlin’. Then you can talk to me about lubricatin’ hard ‘n slick things til the chocobos come home.”

#tris writing #tris posts #ffxivwrite2021 #tris ffxivwrite2021