#FFXIVWisp

[wispofwillow]

Thank you so much @rhalgr for creating these amazing screenshots of Wisp! You picked a perfect setting and captured them so well, too!

#More to come! #Truly I am beyond words for how excellent these are and how much I love them #Wisp Alsentia #FFXIVWisp

[wispofwillow]

What is the make-up of your character’s polycule? Who are their metamours? Do they share any partners?

"Oh." Wisp smiles quickly, apologetically. "I fear you may already have this answer, if you've spoken with some of the others. But perhaps not! Anyroad, I am one of Khala's partners," they sign the word as they speak it, flushing just enough to be noticeable beneath the pale half-mask that covers their eyes. "He is married to Mercer, and has been partners with Ayame for quite some time. Mercer is also partners with - I believe engaged to - Akhutai, who is married to Lyneth. Mercer's other partner is Stari, which is newer - not as new as I am perhaps - but, they'd known each other some time before dating." They smile, again, there.

They pause a moment, head tipped in reflection. "I do not think either Ayame or Lyneth has another partner, though in truth I do not yet know them well enough to be certain of it. Stari does not. So, no one shares a partner at this time, though I believe they have in past years?" A quick shake of the head. "A good family, all told. I am lucky to have been offered a place in it though it- well, I hope to be worthy of it."

((Thank you so much for the ask @yvesoix-sellemontiere!! Wisp is very new to the group, as am I to RPing with them, and particularly RPing Wisp in a romantic capacity with Khala, so was hesitant to post the ask meme, as there is a lot that they do not know, and that I do not, either! It has been excellent to see these asks and how others are responding, though!))

#FFXIVWisp #Wisp Alsentia #Asks #Thank you again!! And for creating the ask list!

[wispofwillow]

Prompt 2: Bark

FFXIV Write 2023

Aerith (the cat) surveyed the length of her domain - well, one of her domains - stretching out her front paws with a yawn and a contented purr. This particular domain consisted of a cramped but neat greenhouse (a sunny glass palace with innumerable shady leaves and places for good jumping, with comfortable cushions just for her, as she saw it), striped through now with late afternoon shadow. And, of course, it also included the tall not-cat within, who knelt now (sadly - knees were less good for kneading and for curling up into balls of napping fluff on top of) by the wood table at the back of the room. 

At least the not-cat (though, confusingly, a not-cat with ears and a tail - grey, not like Aerith's bright white, vibrant orange, and sleek black) was awake and here this time. And this was part of Aerith's contentment as she stretched again, whiskers pointing forward as her back arched, and stood up on her shelf cushion (marked of course with layers of her fur). Aerith did not quite know what she meant by her not-cat (Wisp was what they were called by other not-cats, though the sounds meant little to Aerith) being not-here, even when sitting in that same spot they occupied now, head bent over some things or other that Aerith was not allowed in - but she knew when it happened and she did not like it. Especially when the not-here times came close together. 

Just to be extra sure, Aerith threaded her way through and around the potted plants and trays of seedlings with surprising grace for such a round creature, headed with determination towards her Wisp. With a noisy thunk and an accompanying mmrp? (it would not do to go unannounced - well, at least not when she wanted attention), Aerith jumped down off the last shelf, back up onto the table, and waddled her way between the trays off moss and sheets of (oh! crinkly!) paper, to plop onto her behind just in front of the not-cat. They did not have that stiff not-fur layer on their face right now, so it was easier to look up to meet their eyes and see themselves reflected back. "Mrrp? Rrrawr."

Wisp made a credible (if non-sensical - not-cats were so silly) imitation of Aerith's greeting back to her, and offered a hand for Aerith to sniff. Aerith did so, politely (earth smell, like always, honey…sadly not the fish treats), before ramming her head into that hand. The mossy softness that not all not-cats seemed to have made a nice cushion against her face. But, lately, there was a hardness under that moss, like the bark that Aerith scratched on in climbing (illicit! Not allowed, but fun) outside that was nice for scratchy chin rubs, but not as much for accidental hurts in head bonks, so it needed to be approach with caution. Today, though, it did not seem bad, and Aerith could see the extra relaxation in the expression on Wisp's face that meant a purr.

Good. Her not-cat was doing well. She had done her job. 

Nevertheless, she remained for several more minutes for appropriate pets and chin-scratching (a good reward, and Wisp did not always allow her to sit here, if there were that shiny glass, or that crystal that made her fur bristle - or sometimes sharp-smelling plants), before hopping down again, to walk the length of her domain. 

Here and there she stopped for a sniff, or to set her paws in soft dirt (but not to pee, for apparently this was discouraged by stern noises from the not-cat, except in the separate box with softer sand that was set aside just for this, which was fine). Interesting smells abounded - dog, for one, and the other not-cats - the one that smelled of batter and butter, one that smelled…dustier?, others that also smelled of dirt and earth, but different dirt. All familiar smells. 

Except…

A strange smell…no, not a smell…

Aerith paused in her rolling perimeter of the room, fur lifting, nose to the air, pointed toward the wood-framed door that led to the outside of the little glass house. Something…No, not a smell…but a-

Bark. Bark bark bark!

Aerith dropped flat, ears twitching, little round tail poofing out to the size of a Moogle pom.

Dog! With its loud dog language.

Wait…a familiar bark, a familiar dog. She sneezed, readiness to attack or run easing just as a little excited whining whimper, followed but the snuffle of a nose at the door crack, reached her ears. It was not until the quick rhythmic tap at the door, also a familiar pattern, that Aerith heard her not-cat look up and shift in those swishy robes. Wisp called some kind of greeting, and Aerith dutifully trotted forward to receive the requisite licks from the blur of tan fur and curled, violent fan of a tail that burst in almost before Wisp finished speaking. Despite the excessive bathing (tolerated, one should not say enjoyed), Aerith pointed her whiskers forward: a small price to pay for the warmth of the cuddles offered by the Dog (Gidget was what the not-cats seemed to call her) when she finally wore herself out (how did dogs have so much sprint in them? And so much energy just in their tails). 

Properly enjoyed were the surprisingly gentle head and chin rubbing offered by the not-cat that followed Gidget, calling a cheerful greeting back to their own not-cat. For a creature with such long ears and such energy himself - and such a boisterous companion as Gidget - this not-cat was exceedingly good with cat language. 

Well…mostly properly enjoyed. But it was hard to sink even into well-applied chin scratches with that sense of - not a smell, but something…off. Wrong. Like food gone off. Not entirely familiar, but not entirely strange, either. Coming from somewhere out that door.

Aerith looked up as the long-eared not-cat moved past her at the faint, scarcely-heard whine from Gidget. Whining again, the dog looked at her - it was a Look, even across species.

Something out there was not right.

Aerith (with a curiosity said by some to be dangerously native to her kind) wanted to know what it was.

#FFXIVWrite2023 #FFXIVWrite 2023 #Belated on this one even more than the first - whoops #Wisp Alsentia #FFXIVWisp #X'Khala Moui #Aerith the cat #Gidget

[wispofwillow]

Working on a greenhouse

#FFXIVWisp #Wisp Alsentia

[wispofwillow]

(Second set of screenshots from @rhalgr! Thank you so, so much - the expressions here are just perfect, and I love everything about what you created for these screenshots 😭💕)

#Still crying over these #Truly they are so so wonderful #FFXIVWisp #Wisp Alsentia #I would also tag you but then people looking for Rhalgr of the twelve might be...confused

[wispofwillow]

#FFXIVWisp #X'Khala Moui #Wisp Alsentia

[wispofwillow]

Wisp as a Gym Leader

Wisp got water-type: perhaps not as apt as grass-type would seem (and dress well is...a stretch), the diversity and (forgive me) fluidity of water type may suit them.

Take the quiz here

Build your team here

Thank you for the tag @scales-claws-and-thorns

Most folks have been tagged I think, but, for yourself or a character, tagging: @reflectionsofacreator @locketship @khalacrumbles @toeskater91

(Apologies for messy formatting)

#Only one am sure of is Vaporeon honestly #Alas no Leafeon #FFXIVWisp #Wisp Alsentia

[wispofwillow]

Thoughts on each other’s friends?

Wisp taps their chin with a closed fist thoughtfully. "In truth I think we may share a good number of those friends, at present. If the members of Aetherflow count in this, and I hope that at least some do." Their expression eases into a laughing kind of smile under their mask. "So that suggests we may for the most part think well of each others' friends? Anyroad," the smile slips as they continue. "Khala seems wealthy in good friends and good partners both - Mercer, Ayame, Sari. I do not know all of them well, but count myself lucky to have met them."

((Thank you for the ask @furys-mercy! Wisp does consider themselves lucky to have found Aetherflow, and Khala, and his friendships. They are quieter on their own friends because are hesitant to claim many. And the one they are sure of is slightly out of reach at the moment. They would also rather not think of lost friendships.))

#Asks #Wisp Alsentia #FFXIVWisp #Oh I do not have a ship tag or things #Or technically an ask tag

[wispofwillow]

Achieved a creature!!

#FFXIVWisp

[wispofwillow]

Kitten scruffed for Crimes

This mount always just gives me "mother cat scruffing a kitten" vibes

#Alas screenshots always messed up from uploading and downloading and reuploading #FFXIVWisp #FFXIV gpose

[wispofwillow]

How Your Adventure Ends: Islen (Wisp) Alsentia

You die saving someone you love:

Your heart is noble but fragile. You could have been the one. You could have rid these lands of what plagues them. But they would have gone too and you knew you couldn't let the world feel their loss. So you took their place. I only hope your sacrifice will pay out.

Tagged by: @furys-mercy (Thank you!)

Tagging: Anyone who might be interested!

Link to quiz: https://uquiz.com/quiz/FxUE38?p=3813493

#Whelp #I mean quite possibly accurate #Self-sacrificial bent #FFXIVWisp #Wisp Alsentia

[wispofwillow]

The Hero’s Aspect: Islen (Wisp) Alsentia

(( BOLD always or almost always applies  | |   italics are situational or occasional ))

accepting | adventurous | altruistic | amiable | benevolent | bold | brave | caring | charitable | cheerful | chivalrous | compassionate | courageous | courteous | courtly | daring | decent | disciplined | doughty | dutiful | dynamic | empathetic | energetic | enthusiastic | erudite | fair-minded | faithful | fearless | forthright | gallant | generous | genuine | gritty | graceful | gracious | gutsy | happy | honest | honourable | incorruptible | innocent | intelligent | intrepid | jovial | judicious | just | kind | knowledgeable | likable | lionhearted | loyal | loving | magnanimous | merciful | mighty | mild | moral | nice | noble | non-judgemental | obliging | open-minded | orderly | philanthropic | polite | principled | proper | quick-thinking | quick-witted | quixotic | rational | realistic | refined | reasonable | reconciliatory | reliable | sagacious | saintly | seemly | shrewd | self-reliant | self-sacrificing | sensitive | smart | sophisticated | spirited | stalwart | steadfast | stoic | strong | suave | sympathetic | teetotal | tenacious | thoughtful | tireless | tolerant | tough | trustworthy | unassuming | uncomplaining | understanding | unflappable | unyielding | useful | valiant | virtuous | vigilant | warm-hearted | whimsical | wise | witty | worthy | xenacious | xenophilic | yielding | zealful

(Wisp would not consider themselves a hero - they provide what healing, aid, and knowledge/ideas they can, but see this as small acts, and they see their limitations and failures, as well)

Tagged by: @scales-claws-and-thorns (Thank you for the tag!)

Tagging: Anyone who would like to participate (including @khalacrumbles @rhalgr @duchessdynamic )

#FFXIVWisp #Wisp Alsentia #Too much recent X’Khala Moui no! For being completely unflappable

[wispofwillow]

Character Theme: Islen (Wisp) Alsentia

What instrumental track would play in the background of your character’s story during their most meaningful moments?

(Not sure about most meaningful moments - will have to keep an eye out for additional possibilities, but this one was on one of their playlists already. Truly almost anything from this soundtrack works, for quiet impactful moments or action ones):

Tagged by: @furys-mercy and @scales-claws-and-thorns (Thank you for the tags!)

Tagging: @khalacrumbles @bad-moen-rising @reflectionsofacreator @rhalgr(truly anyone who might like to participate!)

#FFXIVWisp #Wisp Alsentia #I love music #Feel like that one vine guy music loving video whenever I talk about it though #Oh is this music? #I like it #This is my favorite part (silence)

[wispofwillow]

Bishop:

"Sneaky sneaky bishop. bishops appear unassuming, a more subtle version of their rookish counterparts. but then, just at the moment you’ve forgotten they exist, they come zooming across the board to wreak all hell and havoc. strategy is everything when it comes to the bishop, and when placed in the right position they can be deadly. they’re the poison in the wine, the dagger in the mattress. the propaganda in the marvel movie. bishops are first and foremost logicians. they consider the world in terms of facts and figures that can be manipulated to their benefit. intelligent and ambitious, the bishop can be ruthless in getting what they want, with the result that people get hurt in the process. however, they can also be excellent diplomats, able to build relationships and influence events in subtle but undeniable ways. as a friend, the bishop is an indispensible ally. as an enemy, well. bitches get stitches."

Take the quiz: https://uquiz.com/quiz/NJxobi?p=772764

(Honestly I am quite surprised by this. Had thought they would get pawn, and am fairly certain they usually truly are a pawn; will follow others' leads in most cases, and take small parts in bigger picture events. Also they don't tend to be purely logical or strategic)

Tagged by: @furys-mercy (thank you!)

Tagging: Anyone who would like to do this (@khalacrumbles and @scales-claws-and-thorns if they want to)

#This is because I joked about Wisp being the new archbishop after Heavensward huh #Where is my picture of them in the bishop hat #FFXIVWisp #Thank you for the tag!

[wispofwillow]

This time they got caught almost eating the flower ...

#They really are going to eat it sometime #Probably #FFXIVWisp #Wisp Alsentia

[wispofwillow]

FFXIVWrite - Prompt 3: Temper

Prompt 3: Temper

((Almost went with a witnessed Garuda tempering for this one, but here we are. Rarely would show a loss of temper))

((Still messing around with a lot of tentative ideas and magic sense here))

Temper:

(noun): “a particular state of mind or feelings”

(verb): “improve the hardness and elasticity of (steel or other metal) by reheating and then cooling it” - “to be or become tempered”

(verb): “to moderate or mitigate; to soften or tone down”

(Definitions pulled from Dictionary.com)

Character: Wisp Alsentia

Brief mentions in memory of: Stari King, Lif Silverlode, Mara Kha, August Mercer, X’Khal’a Moui, Allyn Grav'nost (Gravy), Akhutai Urit, Kurenai Nagimae, Ushumgallu Allagbane

Music: A choice!

Vaults - Bodies: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hgB6Ffd3Q_s

Kate Bush - Running up that Hill: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l_b_X6n__pY

Active Child - Color Me: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VUz9TUXXqRU

Focus

In the half-dark of the late afternoon, Wisp sat cross-legged on the rag rug spread in the far corner of their room, almost out of reach of the creeping slant of light through their uncurtained windows. They sat straight, but with their shoulders set back against the leg of the bunk bed behind them, the wood a solid presence against their back, neatly made-up sheets cool against their neck. Sheets still smooth and unmussed for more than just that day.

Between their hands, cupped loosely in their lap, they held a small focus, its colorless crystalline surface gathering and reflecting light against their downturned face, catching along the silvery scars that marked channels like tear tracks beneath their eyes. Their habitual mask sat discarded, for now, on the low desk across from them. It had tipped downward, leaning on the beak of it, so that the shadowed, carved eyes appeared to watch them. Beside it lay their actual rapier and focus. For this, they had obtained a smaller, weaker focus. The rapier felt as though it should be reserved - kept safe, somehow, in a way they could not fully articulate. So, for this practice, a practice focus. It should suffice, in any case, for what they were trying to accomplish.

For this small, simple task. 

The simplest, the smallest, the easiest task they had learned even before their first formal lesson of conjury.

The task they were, as yet, failing.

To channel and direct one’s aether. And only one’s own aether.

Frowning, Wisp resettled themselves against the bed, shifting their legs on the rug below to ease out a cramp. They took in a long breath, a slow breath, held it, and, just as slowly, released it, letting their shoulders fall, keeping their cupped hands deliberately loose around the empty focus. The unwelcome tension of growing frustration would not help them now.

Once again, they reached, calling up the memory of Khala’s description of the feel of channeling his own aether - the catch, the pull of it, the warmth flowing from toes upward. Immediately the familiar sense of it wrapped their senses, a feel of moss pressing softly against the skin, a brush of pine and petrichor and damp earth. Taking in another slow breath as their frown eased, Wisp let the aether flow up and out, into their hands, their fingertips, and, carefully, into the focus, which woke to a soft gold-green glow. It was weak, befitting of the caution they’d taken and what should have been their low reserves following their recent healing and training exertions, and the sleeplessness following the concert of the night before. But that was how they had intended it to be.

There. Just…

Before they could finish the thought, before the satisfaction and relief could settle, the aether twisted. Tangled. Again. Again.

It did not stop, but rather, flared. 

Chained behind their faint cast came not another spell, but a rush of force. The smell of pine grew, whispers of needles on branches behind it, and above it, beneath it, through it flashed the hair-raising static sense presaging a lightning strike. Tiny bolts of static flicked from their fingers to the crystal focus, growing by the second.

No.

Wisp snapped their fingers away from the focus, slamming their mind down against this rush of levin-aspected aether. No. The sparks died, but the tightness to the air did not as the focus rolled from their lap to the floor with a neglected thunk. They leapt to their feet, flexing their fingers as the fur along their tail, their ears, their arms stood straight up.

It had not been their intention to channel any aspect to their aether at all. And there, at the last, it had not been their aether.

Their tail lashed once, twice.

“Are you…tied to something?” Stari’s words echoed up through memory, so quick on the heels of the initial reassurance they’d sought. And with those words, Khala’s voice, as well, speaking of how it was not natural to be so linked to external aether, so unable to shut it out. 

For that’s what this was, somehow, though they’d not called it: aether external to them. And they ought to know the difference, relying ever first on their own aether unless a healing spell absolutely called for ought else. And calling only on the aspect needed to shape a spell of another kind to do harm.

Lif’s voice came to memory now, too, telling them how interesting Mara had found their aether. And with her voice came the wide-eyed, strained fear that had flashed through her as Wisp had started to speak of what had happened. Of what little they knew.

Wisp paced, now, a tight circle in the corner of their room, ears pinned back, still flexing their fingers. Open, closed, open, closed, curled into claws.

This could not continue. They knew it. Like as not, everyone did. Everyone who’d seen, at least.

Their mind offered them up the image of that voidsent, weeks back, Mercer alongside them. When the visions that had latched onto their mind had distracted them enough to give an opening to the creature. Luck, only, that the attack had been on them and not Mercer. But, what of the next time they became so distracted? 

And again, another memory, another creature of the void draining at their own aether, pulling their attention away from healing spells their party needed, distracting the other healers, too.

The lapses of attention were worse, even, than the lapses of time. It had happened again, that night, they knew. The magic of the Shroud that had been worked by the performers at the concert had pulled at their mind, their senses, their aether, in a way that they could not explain, like the echoes of a song stuck in one’s head long after the notes had faded. Even as they had accompanied Ushumgallu and Sari back to the Aetherflow offices, spoken with Gravy, watched Kurenai carried safely to sleep, a part of their mind had not been there. They’d sat down, just for a moment, back in the dark of their own rooms, to rest before changing from their sweat-salt-stiff robes. 

And then, they had woken. If “wake” was the right word to use when there had been no sleep, just hours, gone. And a drifting. Just like with Josie’s funeral.

A hot wash of guilt and loss and shame poured through them, and they put their hands to their face, fingers pressing hard into the corners of their eyes where tears were starting, smearing them before they could follow the silver traces left before by a wholly different kind of tear. Forcibly they pulled their hands away again, away from the scars, fingers curling back into claws.

This training in Red Magic, begun from sheer interest, was something they needed, now. To temper this overreliance on external aether - to balance out whatever it was that had changed in them, with the transformation the sineaters had wrought. And what had been done, after, to undo that transformation. But, a blade of metal that was weak to start with could not well be tempered.

Pausing in their pacing, Wisp relaxed their hands, rubbing their palms briefly together to smooth away the pricked dents in their skin where their clawed nails had left a mark.

Again. Just try again. Khala had told them what it would feel like. And they’d felt it, briefly. They’d kept out the other aether before, had they not? Before the First, an insidious whisper in their mind reminded them. Before the sineaters. Before the rasping scrape of taint along their aether, along their bones as they stretched, warped, twisted. Claws against stone. Fangs drawing down and down. Light overflowing, oozing…

Breathe.

Breathe. In, out. 

The air rattled shakily from them in a whoosh, and Wisp crouched, laying hands flat on the rough surface of the rug to steady themselves again. Hands that were not the sickly white of a sineater. Hands with furred skin along the backs, black-tipped claws kept neatly trimmed back. Their own hands. Just theirs.

These memories would not aid them now. As they had not aided them when they had reacted so strongly upon meeting Teo and learning of others’ travels to the First. Nor did they explain what this tie in their aether was. No, not tie in their aether - tie to their aether.

Which should not prevent them from calling just upon their own aether. It should not.

Clenching their jaw, Wisp reached out for the focus, groping for where it had rolled halfway beneath the bunkbed as they’d jumped to their feet.

How can I be of use - how can I be trusted in danger - if I cannot even master myself? 

The borrowed time they had now, they had never requested, but all the same it would have a purpose to it. It must. More images flashed to mind, now: Arc, his wide smile up into the sun as the wind caught at his hair - trapped now, in their place, on the First; the hollow silence of the village to which they’d been returned when the moss had released them, in their own shape again - a trail they had joined Aetherflow, albeit unintentionally and unvoiced even to Akhutai’s direct question, to pursue; Josie’s face, slack, empty of all light and life.

Focus. 

Breathe. In, out.

Letting their eyes drift shut, Wisp called again upon their aether, letting the feel of it wash up through them. Moss, again, the faint brush of pine, a faint scent and sense of lightning at the roof of their mouth, not so strong as Mercer’s. And then, suddenly, it was. The wash of electricity slammed into their senses, overwhelming the soft sense of their own magic. They leashed it quickly, grasping physically and mentally with both hands.

No. Again. No. 

Mouth pulled back in a silent snarl, fangs bared, Wisp grappled with the flow of the aether seeping into theirs. Shut it down. But as soon as they reached for their own aether again, the rush of the storm came with it.

They failed again. And again. And again.

Wisp breathed in. And breathed out. And instead of abating, the frustration grew, heat prickling up their palms and upward until their whole face, their ears, their skin felt hot. With it, so too came the sparking sense of pressure building. Their fur stood on end, tail lashing once, twice.

And with a last, final growl, they let go their hold that could not keep the aether back.

With a rumbling boom of thunder that shook the room, an arc of lightning leapt from their hands into the focus, bouncing through it and, with no rapier to guide the overflow, outward, a spray of smaller sparks branching out and over their fur and clothing as it went. Then, just as suddenly as it had come, the lightning was gone, the pressure seeped from the room, leaving Wisp lightheaded, the flood of aether from elsewhere slowed to a trickle. But still not gone.

Heavily, they sat on the bed, legs shaking, temper and aether spent. Between their hands, the small focus, never designed to take aspected aether in such a single blow, lay cracked and blackened. Also spent. 

Failed just as they had. Again. 

___

Somewhere in the distance, in a forest huddled along the ridges and feet of a low mountain range, where tall pines flanked the slopes that folded gently down toward a green-blanketed valley below, rain slowed, then stopped. The thunderstorm that had gathered itself earlier in the day, raining torrents down upon the trees as it fetched up against the mountains gradually, dissipated, clouds rolling on and away, shrinking as they went, temper, if one could call it that, spent.

#FFXIVWrite2022 #FFXIVWisp #Wisp Alsentia