bala-xiv

[bala-xiv]

As close to my Azem as I could get without chopping off the ears I guess. I also imagine his eyes would be purple with pink outer rings but this also works, since his name is Astraios and the two colored eyes are very reminiscent of binary stars like Albireo. And yes his starry freckles glow in the dark and I will kill someone about it.

[bala-xiv]

Date: XX - X - XXXX. Met prospective new patron today. First impressions: Direct. Well-spoken. Vain, but not overly narcissistic. Confident in his power, if insecure in his mortality. As equally well-versed in the intricacies of court politics and noble society as he is in matters of war and conquest. Intelligent enough to avoid the traps laid out before him by Amon and his ilk, but not quite so much that he can see the noose already tightening about his neck. Quite attractive in profile, if only from his right side; such a terrible shame about his left. Most importantly, the man is possessed of a favorable temperament and more than enough material wealth to suit my needs. Construction of Arachnion proceeds apace, and he is more than willing to divert funds toward its completion so long as he receives of the fruit of my labor; a simple promise, all too easily fulfilled. Yes, he will serve me rather nicely.

[ . . . ] As an aetherochemical researcher of the late Allagan era, Damophon is best known today for his research into preserving one’s continuity of consciousness during transference of the soul into various media, both organic and inorganic. To this end he made numerous innovations in the field of cloning technology, some of which have been mistakenly attributed to his more infamous colleague and counterpart Amon. In fact, the entirety of his body of work might have been thusly misattributed had it not been for the man’s habit of meticulously chronicling his day-to-day activities, no matter how mundane. Among these meticulously-kept notes can be found detailed records of Damophon’s many patrons: Allagan nobles of varying renown, each one bearing deep investment in the idea of immortalizing their names through contributions to science, or quite literally immortalizing themselves through Damophon’s discoveries. Only one such patron is never referred to by name, nor does Damophon attribute to him any other identifying information, as he indicates this particular patron’s funding is to be directed strictly toward a project ‘of utmost secrecy and import.’ Nevertheless, Damophon seems to have taken great interest in this chosen venture, as his writings on the matter — those which have been discovered thus far, to wit — indicate a level of vigor and interest rarely seen in his other reports. This interest is likewise shared with his mysterious patron, with whom he associates only a coded name: the Hanged Man.

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #balmung #balmung rp #allag #robyn lanner #andriskos #did actually post these shots to twitter like over a month ago but held off on reposting here #until i could come up with a decent !!!lore!!! caption for them #well. well.

[bala-xiv]

mushussu;

cw: allusions to violence, mild gore

The hour is late; the lamps in the corridor have long ago dimmed. Somewhere a clock is faintly ticking, the only sound Robyn can hear above the scratching of his pen against paper.

He’d thought that the monotony of this work would suffice to lull him to sleep, as it has so many times in the past; to his chagrin, that supposition has thus far proved incorrect. Still, it’s work that needs to be done — work that he’d gladly volunteered to do, work that brought him into the Archive’s halls in the first place — and if he can’t spend the night asleep, then he might as well spend these long hours putting himself to good use.

An Illustrated Guide to Notable Dragons of Meracydia sits upon the book stand, cracked open with care to a two-page spread of a fearsome wyvern and diagram of its anatomy. The diagram itself is drawn with lifelike precision, while its various labels and notes are written in the overly-detached, utterly scientific manner that Robyn has come to expect of Allagan texts. Even in these physical tomes, which surely must have taken some greater effort to produce than the digital records housed within a tomestone… Even then, there was some curious comfort in finding a sliver of familiarity, no matter how small.

Familiarity — perhaps that’s what he needs. Perhaps burying himself in the familiar will put his mind off…

A shuddering sensation slithers down his spine. No, no; if he spends much more time introspecting, he’ll have defeated his very purpose in coming here. He focuses his attention wholly, fully upon the illustrated wyvern once more.

His focus draws to a single point — to a single sickle-like claw, angled forward as though to sink into the wyvern’s prey — noted in that detached Allagan manner to be especially adept at puncturing armor and hide alike, particularly designed for stripping flesh from bone…

Robyn turns the page with perhaps less care than he really should. He needs not to think, not to dwell; he needs only to read, and to record.

The page that follows is taken up in whole by another illustration, this one depicting an altogether different manner of dragon: a wingless creature whose serpentine form seemed almost to weave in upon itself, its whiplike neck and tail poised to lash out; two horns sprouted from its head, themselves nearly the length of its jaw, and its fangs were bared, talons spread wide, as if to strike. It almost seemed as if it were ready to leap from the page and sink those fangs into—

No, no. What a silly thing to consider. How absurd, to even think of it.

Still, Robyn finds himself shaking his head to clear his mind, as though the action might shake loose any memory of the day’s events — as though it might stop his imagination from running wild, fueled by sights one ought never to have seen. Still…

Once again, Robyn attempts to focus upon a single point: the very next page, which begins, in heading, with a word he has never seen before. This alone is enough to distract him from any other thought; how rare is it, after all, that he finds a word which he can associate with no meaning? It’s with not a little excitement that he picks up his pen and begins to write once more.

He starts with transcribing the word just as it appears in the Allagan script, and only then does he take up the task of transliteration. Mu… Mushku? No, perhaps instead— Mush-hushu… Mushushu. Mushussu?

Each one seems equally likely to be the correct pronounciation, at least in Robyn’s mind. That tells him nothing of its meaning, of course, but that’s simple enough to glean: as the heading of the page, it could be none other than the name given to the dragon portrayed on the opposite page.

Mushushu… Mushussu…

Robyn searches his memory and can come up with no other mention of such a name in any other Allagan record he’s read thus far, in a tomestone or by any other means. Could it possibly be, then — could he have possibly found some bit of history that had previously been lost to time? Could he have found something entirely new? His pulse quickens at the very thought; the sensation of his heart pounding is a welcome reprieve, at least, from the way his mind had been racing before this. It’s with newfound enthusiasm that he scans through the text that follows, his pen working faster to write his summations than his mind can come up with them.

After the scientific measurements of the creature’s various anatomical parts, after the dry summation of its various battles and the destruction it had wreaked upon Allag’s mightiest forces — after all of that, however, Robyn hits another snag: another word he doesn’t recognize.

One unfamiliar word, name or no, should be cause enough for excitement, but a second one? He takes a deep breath to ground himself, to slow down and refocus; the word appears mid-sentence, and in situations like these, context is key. He’ll have to translate it properly if he wants to understand…

After untold lives were lost to Mushusshu’s fang and claw, ultimately the dragon’s pride proved to be its undoing, for Lieutenant General ——— issued forth a challenge of single combat, and it was in this way that the Lieutenant General claimed Mushusshu’s head, and it was for this deed that ——— was awarded the rank of General Commander.

Unconsciously, Robyn had begun tapping his pen in time with the soft ticking of the clock nearby. The use of military titles suggested more than anything else that this word had to have been another name, in which he would find no inherent meaning; no, just as with Mushussu, he would have to work it out manually. He writes at first without looking at the page, merely copying the Allagan script, before he begins to scratch out in Eorzean letters…

Andriskos…

Andriskos.

Once again does the pounding of his heart overwhelm nearly all else, but it’s somehow a different sensation this time. His heart pounds; his blood runs cold; his hands shake; his mind seems almost to drift away from the rest of his body, which now feels distant and faint. He can’t explain it; he can’t figure out why. Why…

Andriskos. Andriskos.

He can’t understand it. The name, the word itself is so unfamiliar to him, and yet why— At the sound of it, at the very sight of it, why does he feel so—

The clock strikes upon the hour, and with the suddenness of the chime comes another sudden sensation — a searing pain across either cheek, hot and wet from sweat and tears and blood — entirely unexpected, and entirely new — hands garbed in cold steel closing around his throat, a heavy weight crushing down against his chest, squeezing, strangling, and unseen eyes burning with hate—

Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate.

Andriskos!

It’s but a moment before the clock finishes its chime, and just as suddenly does Robyn come back to himself; in that moment, somehow, he’s fallen out of his chair and onto the floor, both hands at his own throat as though to guard against some invisible attacker. His heart still pounds, but that sensation is all that lingers; everything else seems to have faded just as quickly, as suddenly as it had come.

He’s uneasy on his feet, but he stands regardless, righting his chair with trembling hands and scanning his work space to see if anything else had been knocked astray in his fright. Fortunately, his inkwell remains undisturbed — as does his pen, although he now sees that his pen has blotted a large stain where he had last left it, at the terminus of the last word he had finished writing.

Andriskos.

All too suddenly, he’s much too cold. It takes only a moment for Robyn to decide on his next course of action: to carefully close the book upon its stand, to put up his pen and straighten out his sheaf of notes, to turn off the lantern whose light he’d been working by, and then to turn right around and return to the nap room.

Perhaps he’ll only succeed in lying awake for another few hours, until the sun rises and he can pretend that he hadn’t had one of his worst nights in recent history. Perhaps he’ll finally fall asleep, only to be tormented by dreams of all he’d seen and what had just transpired. At this point, whichever result he ends up with matters not; in this moment he needs to remove himself from his writing, from his work, and nothing else could matter more.

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #balmung #balmung rp #robyn lanner #andriskos #moonshadows #writing #gave this exactly zero (0) editing passes. we die like men

[bala-xiv]

[…] Yes, I know exactly what sort of man you are. Not the man you were, once celebrated in story and song, for he has long since turned to ash. In Meracydia did you claim your glory, seized it with both hands, and for a price no less than death; and when death came to claim you in turn, you stood upon that precipice, gazed into that yawning abyss from which no light, no life can ever escape; and rather than give yourself over to that eternal embrace, much less to allow your memory to pass into legend, what did you do instead? You turned away, and gave yourself over to fear. Yes, that is exactly the sort of man you are, now and I fear forever on. Neither your vaunted strength nor your storied accomplishments shall follow your name into the annals of history; in their place, only cowardice shall remain.

— An excerpt from the personal writings of Damophon, an aetherochemical scholar of some renown during the late Allagan era. The subject of this passage remains a mystery into the modern day, for no record has been found among Damophon’s other works in which he refers to this man by name; some scholars have theorized that Damophon is addressing none other than Emperor Xande himself, but no evidence has yet been found which might support this conclusion.

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #balmung #balmung rp #allag #robyn lanner #andriskos

[bala-xiv]

the heart seeketh equilibrium; with balance shall your worry part.

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #balmung #balmung rp #robyn lanner #mark i #posted this on twitter a while ago but forgot about over here. whoops !!!

[bala-xiv]

Happy Yaoi Saturday

#art

[bala-xiv]

honestly pog tbh

[bala-xiv]

Iux Iunseer. THE HIGH PRIESTESS

Key symbols: the moon, pomegranates, a ring of gold

...Secrets will tell themselves in one way or another, and the keeping of them will cause them to take on a life of their own. If not spoken aloud, they will find other languages to be communicated through: absence, avoidance, action.

The High Priestess stands guard at the threshold of truth, in the liminal space between interior landscapes that cradle traumatic secrets in dense thickets of thorns, and the celestial expanse that has seen everything but has no voice with which to communicate. There is a cost - both in seeking truth, and in refusing it - and those devoted to the Traders are prepared to pay both.

[Art by @mafumafuriah, who was absolutely AMAZING to work with!]

#art

[bala-xiv]

dark knight

#art

[bala-xiv]

Once a Warder...

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🌅

#art

[bala-xiv]

Aruktai Qestir (MNK) He enjoys making food for his older brother Sacha and hunting. He takes care of a dzo named Little Rock and dreams about traveling outside of the Steppe, especially after many stories that Namulun told him. Namulun is one of his best friends! He’s always very excited to see her coming back, and she has learned to read his expressions pretty well. Aruktai’s somewhat shy… hopes that he’ll grow many more scales, and that he will travel the world, though he knows he can’t do it alone, since people outside rely on speech and written words a lot…

On the last two scribbles he’s with Namulun! How can I say no to putting outfits on characters.

#art

[bala-xiv]

do not @ him. he is chillin

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #ff14 #balmung #bala qestir #island sanctuary has been out for ??? months and i have only just now been able to get into it 💀 #but i am LOVING it. and so is he

[bala-xiv]

some things never get old. like, da pepsi man

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #wren song #gennie miwshyr #akame stormsong #lily flores #behold! my ui #it is very bad.

[bala-xiv]

A Realm Reborn - Heavensward - Stormblood - Shadowbringers - Endwalker - The Journey Continues…

[bala-xiv]

☀

#idk this oc but Hansom

[bala-xiv]

Hey everyone, looking for more FFXIV blogs to follow! Feel free to like/reblog/reply here and I'll definitely check it out!

Interested in:

GPosing/gpose studios

FFXIV venues/events

RP blogs

Glam

FFXIV OCs

Honestly practically anything to do with FFXIV, I'm interested!