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snowbird-down · 1 year

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Character Summary: Laelia (jen) Belisar

alias/nicknames: Lee, Jeanne, Snowbird, Valkyrie

gender: female

age: 23

zodiac: ----

abilities + talents:

A highly skilled if not batshit reckless pilot who can pull off stunts that probably shouldn’t be possible in all manner of machina

A crackshot gunslinger with the kind of draw time that Marty Robbins writes ballads about

Cooks a mean plate of spaghetti

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

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

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

languages: Fluent in Garlean and Common, can speak haltingly conversational Ala Mhigan (but only in the present-tense) and knows all the swear words in Old Elezen.

family: Justus Belisar (father), Tacitus Belisar (older brother), Marco Belisar (younger brother), Verina Belisar (younger sister), Alfonso Belisar (estranged cousin)

friends: While the survivors of III Squad are by technical definition her ‘friends’, the bond that exists between them is probably more familial than anything. Laelia is quite literally inseparable from Victoria Castellus and Maxima Sawyer, and she’d do absolutely anything for either of them. Ride or die? You bet.

More recently she’s gotten close to Arym Ord, who she shares a love of adrenaline (among other things) with. She even would have considered him an ‘honorary’ squad member who they’d ‘adopted’, except he’s being Very Difficult right now.

For some reason fate keeps sending her through hell alongside a girl named Reima Awen, so the two share a mutual understanding of each others’ trauma and do their best to support each other while dreaming of -- and striving for -- better days.

The healer Norhi Morovine helped her settle into Gridanian life back when she first deserted Garlemald and was hiding out in the Shroud, and continues to be her go-to for all manner of Eorzean expertise.

And while she thinks that Ser Basile Bellerose is currently just her friend (with extensive benefits), the reality is that she is much, much closer to him than she realizes.

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

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

libido: sex god / very high / high / average / low / very low / non-existent / who knows

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

hair: white / blonde (platinum) / brunette / red / black

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

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

height: 6'0"

scars: Surprisingly few for all the stunts she pulls. There’s a puncture wound from an arrow on the back of her left calf; by the way it healed it looks like it got infected at one point. There’s a hand-sized patch of burnt skin over her ribs on her righthand side. And there’s a more recent bullet wound in her left shoulder.

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 gun|| summer or winter || spring or autumn || past or future present

A few songs that remind you of them:

Kenny Loggins - Danger Zone ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Green Day - Holiday ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Some Nights - Fun

D’Angelo - Unshaken

The Ecstasy of Gold -- Ennio Morricone

Coyote Kisses - Six Shooter

Primo the Alien - Heart on the Run

Hunter as a Horse - The Train :)

Tagged by: @rhotanored Thank you this was due for an updatew fhweuidkfjhewrkjdghkjer

Tagging: @high-and-away @autochthonousone @endangered-liaison @norhimorovine @daughter-of-fire-and-dreams idk who’s done this forgive me!

#character memes #tag memes #laelia belisar

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high-noon-raccoon · 1 year

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#my art #oc #lee belisar #darklight #las vegas #vegas #vaporwave #synthwave #1980s #retro

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rhotanored · 1 year

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Character Summary: Arym pyr Ord

alias/nicknames: Art, Rabbit, Grandpa

gender: more or less male

age: looks around 30

zodiac: ----

abilities + talents:

a recklessly talented driver with a penchant for high speeds and stunts that definitely should have gotten him killed by now

a capable engineer focused in communication devices

machina technician/mechanic focused in vehicles (and bullshitting his way through juryrigging to Make Things Work(tm))

capable sniper, decent melee combatant (gunblades, H2H)

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

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

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

languages: Fluent in common and Garlean, a hodgepodge of words, phrases and basic understanding of languages out of Landis, Dalmasca and Bozja

family: none by blood that he can presently remember

friends: Arym is difficult to befriend through all the jagged edges of his personality, but beneath that is a man desperate for camaraderie and understanding, both of which he accidentally stumbled into with Sergius. They share a penchant for dry, black humor and past experiences that leave them both with near-uncomfortable common ground. Arym is flighty and skittish, but Sergius has managed to be an anchor he can't (and doesn't want to) cast off. While he'd like to think he's taken III Squad (comprised of Max Sawyer, Victoria Castellus and Laelia Belisar) under his wing, it's more like the other way around. They gave him a reason to keep fighting, but now that he's pursuing a more reckless path, he's putting distance between them.

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

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

libido: sex god / very high / high / average / low / very low / non-existent / who knows

build: slender / average / athletic / muscular / curvy / other (partial machina)

hair: white / blonde / brunette / red / black

eyes: brown / blue / gray / green / black / other (orange LEDs baybee)

skin: pale / fair / olive / light brown / brown / dark / other (gray)

height: 6'1"

scars: so many. a lot of burn scars leftover from the accident, surgical scars from where he's had various organs replaced and/or augmented, gunshot wounds, puncture wounds, lacerations, you name it he's nearly died from it

A few songs that remind you of them:

Sintesis - Otrebor

The Mission - The Great Wight Dread, Computerbandit

Drive It Like You Stole It - The Glitch Mob

The Driver - Ollie Wride

Get no pleasure from the pressure, all that you feed To walk like every modern man I see you, filling up your lungs like ammunition to a gun You take a swing but you can't take me down

Keep Running - Geographer

first they tell you to learn then tell you you’re wrong then they tell you to live a lie if you wanna live at all they take away your reason then they take you for a fool they say there’s no point leaving now even if you could I know that you’ll carry I know that you’ll carry me home baby it’s scary but I don’t think that’s where we belong

Vignette - Koethe

Sometimes I lie awake and think of what I’ve done Am I asleep I can’t believe that I’m the only one Sometimes I lie awake and think of what I’ve said Am I asleep I can’t believe that its all in my head Ive begun to think I’m every thing but starting to forget I cant recall my footing it’s easier to pretend Somewhere in the vignette

This Ain't No Hymn - Saint Saviour

So let me be, so let me be, so let me be So let me be I'll follow someone that I can see I'll worship someone that I can be

'Cause it depends on you and you alone Whether you do, whether you don't Don't believe in more than flesh and bone Grab on and hold, grab on and hold

Tagged by: @sergiusreports

Tagging: @snowbird-down, @norhimorovine, @autochthonousone, @endangered-liaison, @high-and-away (I dunno who's been tagged already aAAAAA)

#arym pyr ord #lmao arym isn't even on this blog yet #but i haven't finished his #so HERE WE GO

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high-and-away · 2 years

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FFXIVWrite 2022, Prompt #9: Yawn

[With a side of #8: Tepid, because I fell asleep and missed the deadline. This only counts as one prompt, though. I’m not going to make a clumsy attempt to sneak two under the radar.] DeMeer looks like a bloody idiot when he's napping, jaw hanging slack and limbs draped over everything. Just leggy and clingy, like a particularly obnoxious starfish. Not that he'd be any better awake. At least if he's unconscious, he's not talking. As it stands, it gives Decurion Claudia pyr Servius time to attend to her Proper NCO Duties (as she thinks of them, feeling the capital letters clink firmly into place) and Check In With The Troops (clink clink clink clink clink). She'll get to DeMeer later, when she absolutely has to. Her emergency Obnoxious Little Git reserves of patience are running just a smidge low. Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly...or at least let me drag you into my commandeered equipment shed for the sake of privacy. So around she goes, Valens elbowing DeMeer's limply dangling form off the back of his chair heedless of a mumbled, whiny protest. All good there, though she does have to shoo Belisar away from the door for eavesdropping. Good pilot, Belisar. Nosy git out of the cockpit. She's got fellow legionaries to ask about and this is not supposed to be gossip material. Belisar has no complaints. Fine. That's great. Stop smoking around the fucking airships. Castellus is fine, decurion, thank you for asking, decurion, I'm sorry but I've been assigned to clean the reaper, decurion, permission to attend to my duties. Cinna I and Cinna II are ambivalent. DeMeer whines. Whatever. Petrus doesn't mind anyone or anything, but it sure would be nice if he could get bigger boots. They've been pinching, decurion. You know how it is-- Yeah, yeah, she does. Uh huh. Sure. He can put in a request with the quartermaster like everyone else. Valens expresses exasperation at their terrible attitude towards medical attention and rest, period, but requests not to be transferred. Fine, you do you. Down the list. Down the list until it ends. Down to and past DeMeer (thank fuck, now shut up). Down the list until she gets to-- Sawyer. Ugh. Sawyer sulks in her chair, scowling, just close enough to an insubordinate slouch to argue that of course she's sitting normally, Decurion. Bitch. Looks like she'd rather be winging gum at the back of Claudia's head and snickering nastily about it with the rest of her delinquent little friends. Whatever. She's not Sawyer's confessor, or priest, or therapist, or whatever they call it outside the Empire. She is a bored and resentful woman trying to herd a gaggle of teenagers and young twentysomethings and make sure she checks all the boxes so everything runs smoothly and no one dies jumping out of an airship or kills each other on the ground. There's a list. She's fucking using it. If Sawyer tries to make small talk she'll doze off. "And your squadmates?" "Fine, Decurion," grunts Sawyer through a mouthful of crooked teeth. Bitch, bitch, snobby bitch, whiny git, humorless bastard, big stupid oaf, dunno why you have a mess like Belisar flying, yeah yeah whatever. Claudia knows the drill. Drills. Same thing. "And you're certain." "S'fine, Decurion. Nothin' to report, yeah?" But plenty to say off the record, yeah? Right, Sawyer, whatever. Not like she's in the field a good chunk of the time anyway. And when she's not, she's still joined to the hip with-- Aha. "And how are you and Castellus doing?" "We're good--" Sawyer - hostile Sawyer, spiteful Sawyer, Sawyer who may or may not have shoved a flirtatious mechanic from the VIth Armored into a latrine for not fucking off when told to cut that flirting shit out, wholly unlikable and inaccessible Sawyer - squirms. She can hear Castellus pause in her reaper-cleaning duties outside, listening. Sawyer's jaw works, shoulders hunched, as though she's about to admit to egging the headmaster's car on All Saints'. "She's okay, I guess," Sawyer grudgingly concedes, slightly red under her freckles. It takes a good minute for the squeegeeing noises outside to resume in earnest. Maxima Sawyer actually warming up to the girl she’s spent so much time complaining about. Fuck, that's priceless. She'll have a good laugh later in private, once her surly poker face is off for the night.

#FFXIVWrite #FFXIVWrite2022 #my writing #Operation Market Garlean

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noxfolium · 1 year

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Things Children See

It would be only a few days after Overseer’s announcement that phase two had begun. And Annia and Bianca were at the window of the apartment, watching some drones at work. Finally, Bianca turns and looks at Misah’to. “Where did Overseer go?”

Misah’to looked up from the sock he was darning. “What? What do you mean?”

Bianca glanced at her older sister, before turning and walking over to Misah’to. “Overseer doesn’t talk to us anymore. Twelves kinda does through the drones. But... it’s like he’s broken now. Why isn’t the Overseer here to fix him? Is he okay? Is that why Mister Arym’s gone too? He’s looking for Overseer? Is that why everyone’s sad? Why Norhi’s always cleaning everything now?”

Misah’to sighed and set aside the sock. “I... Something happened with Overseer, yes. It’s complicated and it is why lots of people are sad. Twelves isn’t broken. He’s just... doing the job the Overseer was doing before. And it’s hard. I want you two to remember to be polite. Say please and thank you and all of that. Okay?”

Annia came over from the window. “And Mister Arym’s looking for Overseer?”

Misah’to frowned a bit more. “I don’t know if he’s doing that or not. But you know he considered the Overseer his friend. And all this upset him very much. So, we need to be patient and wait for him to come home. But when he does come home, don’t ask too many questions, okay? It will probably hurt too much to talk about. And it’s probably a conversation for people who understand what happened.”

Bianca fidgeted and then said, “I bet I know how to get him to come home! Whenever Papa worked too much, Mama would go clean out his desk! And one of the maids would call him in a panic and he’d come home! So, if we go clean out Mister Arym’s place, he’ll come home.”

Annia nodded. “Papa always got super mad about it. But I bet that would work! We can have Miss Vicky call him, once we get started!”

Misah’to winced and then quickly reached to take the girls’ hands in his. “When you’re older, I’m going to explain to you why your mother probably shouldn’t have done that. But, I can’t allow you to go to Mister Arym’s home without him there. So, no cleaning his place. If you want to clean something, I’m sure Norhi would love the company right now.”

Bianca pouted. “But how do we know if Mister Arym’s okay?”

Misah’to sighed faintly and pulled the girls into a hug. “Norhi’s already exchanged a couple letters with him. So, we know he’s out there. And he’s a competent sort. He’ll be home soon enough.”

Annia fidgeted. “But how did Norhi get him a letter? The postal service is gone.”

Misah’to chuckled and leaned back. “Ah... Well... She used an Eorzean service. There are these folk called Moogles. They’re small, fluffy, magical, and can fly. She got one to go find Mister Arym.”

Annia perked. “Can we write Mister Arym a letter too?”

Bianca grinned suddenly. “The Belisars have a kitchen not on a ship now! Think they’d help us bake cookies to send Mister Arym?”

Annia bounced in place. “Norhi’s got good cookie recipes! We can ask for one!”

Misah’to sighed slowly and mumbled, “You’re determined to do something, aren’t you?”

Annia and Bianca both nod firmly. “Yes!” “Please!”

Misah’to shook his head. “Get your coats and shoes. Let’s go talk to Norhi. She’ll know if her moogle friend can help you.”

The girls cheered and turned to get ready to go out. One enthusiastic vs befuddled conversation later, the girls had a written copy of a cookie recipe that Norhi had. Time to ask for help baking!

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watchilove · 1 month

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UNION GLASHÜTTE Belisar Chronograph - a modern refresh

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#Belisar #Belisar Chronograph #german brand #news #Press release #Union Glashütte #UNION GLASHÜTTE Belisar Chronograph

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neueuhren · 5 months

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#Union Glashütte #Union Glashütte Belisar Chrongraph #Belisar Chronograph

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tea-and-conspiracy · 2 years

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FFXIVWrite 2022 Master Post

Getting a head start on the housekeeping this year because I know how I am. :P

Current Submissions:

Prompt 1: Cross (Laelia)

Prompt 2: Bolt (Eliane)

Prompt 3: Temper (Laelia)

Prompt 5: Cutting Corners (Azem)

Prompt 6: Onerous (Eliane)

Prompt 7: Pawn (Laelia)

Prompt 8: Tepid (Olivie)

Prompt 9: Yawn (Persephone)

Prompt 10: Channel (Eliane/Olivie/Red)

Prompt 12: Miss the Boat (Laelia)

Prompt 13: Confluence (Inquisitor Renaud)

Prompt 14: Attrition (House Montcharlet)

Prompt 15: Row (Laelia)

Prompt 16: Deiform (Laelia)

Prompt 17: Novel (Eliane)

Prompt 19: Turn a Blind Eye (The Praetorian)

Prompt 20: Anon (Anon)

Prompt 21: Solution (Laelia)

Prompt 22: Veracity (Eliane)

Prompt 23: Pitch (Eliane - Darklight)

Prompt 24: Vicissitudes (Azem)

Prompt 26: Break a Leg (Belisar siblings)

Prompt 27: Hail (Belisar family)

Prompt 28: Vainglory (Eliane)

#ffxivwrite2022 #my writing #housekeeping

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apebook · 10 months

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#Amelungen #Belisar #Goten #Gotenkrieg #Italien #Justinian #Kampf #Krieg #Narses #Rom #Rom-Serie #Römer #Saga

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endangered-liaison · 5 months

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The Knight Before Starlight

The kiseru twists this way and that between Max’s fingers. She’d seen it in the markets, and Starlight was coming up, so…she’d bought it. It was only once she made back to the apartment she and Gloria were sharing that she realised the person she’d bought it for was near-impossible to contact.

How do you find a wandering cowgirl? Especially one who left to find herself in the first place? That’s too much finding for her tastes, and she sucks at it. Give her prey to track and she’ll follow them across half the world. Give her a friend to follow and…well. There’s a reason she came to Othard. Sometimes you need to go somewhere where you won’t be followed. Sometimes people follow anyroad. Sometimes you need help.

But Laelia doesn’t need help. She needs space. Room to think. Max, of all people, can understand that. She never expected to understand it, but she does.

“That’s quite a fine pipe!” a voice pipes (hah) up from right in front of her, and Max jumps like a startled opossum. She’s either getting too rusty or too relaxed because somehow Ser Basile Bellerose, The Least Sneaky Man In Any Given Room, has managed to surprise her. He stands before her in the theatre, hands on his spandex-clad hips and cowboy hat perched daintily on a head slightly too large to it. “But I was under the impression you couldn’t smoke?”

Max opens her mouth to respond, but evidently the man’s thought processes are still going strong as his mouth falls open in some realisation and he continues.

“Have you found some sort of tobacco or moko which doesn’t harm your lungs?” he asks. Then: “Magic and botany are both equally impressive in my books, and either one could offer you the experience of finally being able to smoke as your image suggests you should!!”

He’s right about her image. Every ilm of her screams that she’s some sort of troublemaking layabout smoking cigarettes and threatening to put them out on the nearest intimidatable person. But that’s never been her fate. She speaks up before he has a chance to take his enthusiastic thought processes even further in something that feels vaguely like trying to derail the phantom train. “Nah. I saw it in the markets - got it for Lee.”

That causes the light behind his eyes to do a strange series of things. It dims, brightens, dims again, then brightens once more to an almost zealous enthusiasm. “Laelia! Of course, I’m sure she’d love to receive such a thoughtful gift, and to know she’s in your thoughts! I’m sure she’d also like that smokeless tobacco as well!” Evidently, after being derailed, the train somehow managed to find a second set of tracks, mount on to them, then perform some complicated technique of multi-track drifting.

Max feels out of her depth, and she was a semi-professional sapper. The man’s enthusiasm is truly dizzying, in that after speaking to him Max isn’t sure what way is up and kind of feels like hurling. In the nicest possible way. “Yeah. Figured she’d like it, but…you have any idea how to get somethin’ to her? Girl makes off-grid look like a tourist trap.” If anyone knows, it’s going to be the man wearing her hat.

He crosses his arms over his barrel chest, pacing this way and that while looking deep in thought. Ten seconds pass. Fifteen. Twenty five.

“Not a clue! Shall we go?”

What. “Huh?”

Basile beams, sparkling teeth and wit. “We know she’s in Ilsabard. We know she has a large dog with her, and we know exactly the sort of heroics that she would get up to! If you have a starlight gift for her then by Halone, I think we should deliver it!”

Max blinks.

This man truly is insane.

“...Alright.”

Two weeks later, the two find themselves once more wearing their winter clothes and once more in the cold of Ilsabard. Max’s teeth chatter. She’d forgotten how much the cold sucked.

Basile has not so much ‘swapped out’ his cowboy hat as he has ‘perched a starlight hat on top of it’. It seems to be holding on through the Garlean winter winds by force-of-will, force-of-personality, or him tugging it over the hat like pulling on a tight pair of socks. It’s genuinely impressive watching the little white bobble blow in the wind from his position on the sidecar of Max’s motorbike.

They’ve been searching for a week. Three towns and a survivor settlement down and all they have to go on is a vague rumour about an oversized dog (which turned out to be a bear), talk of someone riding a horse through the wastes and helping everyone she came across (which turned out to be a strange miqo’te with what looked like an even stranger unicorn), and some rabble-rousing nonsense about the XXVIIth Legion returning to bring them to a new glorious age and to crush the Eorzeans once more. Garlemald doesn’t even have a twenty-seventh legion.

“This was dumb,” Max says, and gets a mouth full of snow to thank for it.

They’ve just stopped for the evening in some old, abandoned town, and she doesn’t know how much longer they can keep this search going. There’s a whole continent Laelia could be in, and that’s assuming she’s even still in Ilsabard.

No. She’d have sent a message if she’d left. She would’ve.

“Perhaps so! But in my experience, the difference between dumb things and brilliant things is simply a matter of perseverance!” Somehow, Basile’s spirit remains utterly undaunted as he dismounts from the sidecar, unfolding his limbs from it and beginning his routine of stretching that he’s done every day since they started riding together. “We shall find her, whether by force of will or Starlight Miracle.”

Max lifts their camping equipment from the back of the motorbike, giving Basile a Look. She’s been giving him more and more Looks recently, but somehow he never seems to notice them.

One more week. One more week, then they’ll turn back.

They don’t have a week.

Max awakes the next morning to the sound of gunfire in the warehouse they’d camped out in. By the time she rolls out of her tent, pistol in one hand and knife in the other, it’s risen to a cacophony of clashing blades and cannonfire.

She’s greeted by the sight of Basile fighting a half-dozen Warmachina. Quite where they’d come from, Max has no idea. Did they pass by an obscura last night? Are they here to give her a speeding ticket? She doesn’t know, and she isn’t much in the mood for asking as she raises her pistol and blasts one of the bladed, skittering ones apart.

Basile throws her a thumbs up and a cheerful “My thanks!” before swinging his gunblade once more, carving a wheeled nightmare like a starlight turkey.

Debris litters the warehouse, and it’s clear he’s already dealt with the worst of them. But it’s equally clear that he’s getting tired, and Max fires off four rounds at the biggest baddest of them all - a Colossus - before joining the fray with her blade.

The Colossus barely seems to care about such petty gunfire, and Max finds herself wishing she’d taken the time to grab her grenades from the tent. But life isn’t for regrets and she’ll have plenty of time to wish she’d made better choices if it cuts her in half. Basile blasts apart the last of the chaff, then turns to face the metal beast. His gunblade roars as it cleaves into the thing’s leg, and Max uses the opportunity to clamber aboard it, ramming her knife into the space between two armour plates and twisting until she hears servos whine. She pulls the knife free, climbing further up its frame before she’s grabbed by the Colossus’s free hand. It squeezes tight enough for her ribs to creak then tosses her halfway across the room. She lands with a dull thud but the ringing in her ears drowns it out.

She watches in dull horror as the Colossus raises its enormous sword, aiming directly at her. It’s ignoring Basile completely, focused on eliminating one target at a time. Starting with the weakest link.

It swings.

Max closes her eyes.

There’s an almighty clash of metal.

When she opens her eyes, Basile is in front of her, his own sword blocking the Colossus’s. It’s heroic. It’s magnificent. It feels like some sort of badass music should be playing in the background.

But he’s struggling. Max doesn’t need to be a mage to see his strength fluctuate. His posture shifts, and his leg bends. He falls to one knee, gritting his teeth. “Max! Run!”

She climbs to her feet, unsteady. She has to do something to help. There has to be something she can do to help.

But before she even has a chance to move, the warehouse echoes once more with the sound of a gunshot. The Colossus’s head snaps back, a bullet piercing clean through its armoured chassis. It slumps, falling to one side. Defeated.

Basile rests his weight on his sword, gasping for breath and clutching his chest. Max stumbles over towards him, dizzy and barely standing.

They both look towards the source of the gunshot.

Laelia Belisar lowers the rifle in her hands, barrel smoking and faintly glowing from whatever round she used. Beside her, Brutus chews on the leg of a piece of magitek like an oversized bone. “Um.” She smiles, and offers an awkward wave. “Hey guys.”

Basile is the first to recover. He rushes over to Laelia, regaling her with tales of Starlight Miracles, starlight hat bobbling away and the brightness of his eyes even brighter than normal. He practically seems to be glowing and, after a few moments of shock, Laelia relaxes into it like a familiar campfire. She smiles, and laughs, and offers him a hug.

“It’s good to see you both,” she says, genuinely, and it’s like fresh kindling on the flames of Basile’s enthusiasm.

He insists on hearing everything about Laelia’s time since they last spoke, nodding rapidly to everything she says while he plays with Brutus. He hears of frontiers and homesteads, of talk about expeditions to the New World. Of people lost. Of people found.

“So, there was this one town where some chick calling herself The Razor had set up shop. She said she’d broken out of prison in Thanalan or something, and she was trying to start up some new Garlean movement. With a name like that, I dunno what she was aiming for.” She’s got a starlight hat on by now, cheeks red from the alcohol Max had been carrying in their supplies and the campfire they’d made to fight off the cold.

Even Max has put a hat on, a grin on her face as they sit close to one another.

“So…time for the million gil question.” Laelia interrupts her own storytime to ask it. “Much as I’m happy to see you both, what’s brought you out here? We just finished with one apocalypse, and if you’ve shown up to tell me about another one I swear I’m going to kick you out into the cold and steal the rest of this booze–”

That has Max’s smile fading a little, and she runs her fingers through her hair self-consciously. It’s been getting long, recently. She doesn’t mind it. It used to bother her, but those times are long since passed. “Nah,” she says. “The World’s goin’ fine. I just…missed you.”

There’s a few seconds of silence as Laelia seems to be trying to work out how to reply to that. Max and Basile came out here, a week into the colds of Ilsabard, because Max missed her? “Bull! Shit!” Lee shoves Max’s shoulder, laughing. “Come on. Seriously now, Sawyer. I know you too well, and I know you came out here for a reason. Apocalypse and family are the only things that could drag you this far north without handcuffs.”

The fire crackles.

The camp is quiet, save for the sound of Brutus attempting to eat Basile’s entire arm.

“Well, you ain’t wrong about that,” Max finally concedes. She reaches into her pack and withdraws a parcel. It’s wrapped in brown paper, with a rough bow tied on it with twine. She hands it over to Laelia. “Family’s the only thing that could drag me this far, kickin’ and screamin’. Happy Starlight, Lee.”

Laelia stares at Max for a long time. She looks at Basile, and Brutus. She looks at the package in her hands.

She leans forwards, and wraps Max in a hug. “Thank you. I…thank you.”

Max buries her face against Lee’s shoulder, gripping the leather of the woman’s jacket as she returns the hug fiercely. “You ain’t even opened it yet.”

“Shut up, Sawyer.”

Across the fire, Basile watches the two with a smile, and wraps his own mighty arm around Brutus to give him a fine hug. “A Starlight Miracle, my friend. Or sheer, stubborn force of will!”

Brutus boofs approvingly, and the knight rubs his ear.

“But I prefer to trust in a little magic.”

((Featuring @snowbird-down 's Laelia, and @autochthonousone 's Basile!))

#max sawyer #Laelia Belisar #Basile Bellerose #This was my christmas gift for Lee and Basile's players!#And with their kind permission I now share it with you all

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