#Latika'a

[houserosaire]

Prompt #29: Fuse

He had long ago given up on seeing Priarch fuse itself into a singular, coherent, functioning unit. They were mercenaries, a diverse crowd with an equally varied skillset and moral code. Most of them had never been soldiers. He was used to the arguments, at the meeting table and away from it. Was used to having to raise his voice into the middle of it, and to being astounded that a point that seemed obvious and concrete to him generated such a myriad of opinions he could scarce keep track of them all.

If they had been soldiers he would have disciplined them. Tried his best to hammer them into a shape sharp and precise as a sword. But they were not, so instead he simply watched them, tried to learn the shape of them, the things they did best and the things that they needed.

He might have written it all down in notes easily enough:

Edarien:

-Strong magic. Strange magic if the way the others react means anything.

-Lonely. Needs a friend and sometimes a voice of reason. 

Inwa:

-Healer. Trustworthy. Kind and merciful.

-Too merciful sometimes. Needs someone to make sure his own kindness doesn’t kill him.

Louvel:

-Strong fighter. Cares deeply for those he loves.

-Uncontrolled temper. Does not like or trust me. What he needs must come from someone else.

Lyrin’a:

-Steady. Good healer, and calm and reliable in crisis.

-Dislikes conflict. Needs someone to hear him and help him be heard.

Okuni:

-Clever. Quick. Determined. Variety of skills. Magic? Knives.

-Needs to be reminded not to rush into things alone or tackle more than she can manage.

Talia:

-Sniper. Very good. Several other magical talents I probably don’t even know.

-Needs reminders of morality sometimes. Friends. Doesn’t need most of it from me.

Idristan: 

-Magic. Very strong.

-Soft heart he doesn’t want anybody to know about. Fragile pride. What he needs isn’t for me to provide.

Elias:

-Good-hearted. Means best for everybody. Hard to read.

-Clumsy, but usually manages. Not always sure what he needs. Perhaps nothing from me. 

Teagan:

-Fights with her fists. Surprisingly capable. Battle rages.

-May need someone to help her out of rages sometime. May not need it from me.

Latika’a: 

-Hiding several capabilities under several acts. Good when he settles down to heal.

-Needs? Inwa will sort it out.

Sui:

-Healer. Sound insights. Voice of mercy.

-Needs someone to guard his back and temper his mercy. That is me.

But he did not. He kept his private assessments in his thoughts, and tried his best to remember them when they were needed. He might have liked to pretend they would all come together when the moment demanded like the pieces of a puzzle or the many links that together made a shirt of mail. They did not usually. They scattered, they argued, they raged.  He wasn’t certain what held them together at all sometimes. But something did. 

That same something carried them to victory as often as not. He frequently thought that their enemies would truly find something to fear if they ever managed to put themselves together. Sometimes, though, he wondered if they were not more fearsome just as they were.

@thedarknesssings for Edarien, @blisteringstar for Inwa, @louvel-roche for Louvel, @hiraethwyl for Lyrin’a, @liminal-storage for Okuni, @reddevil-xiv for Talia, @roses-and-grimoires for Idristan, @gorgagne-viperidae for Elias, @punches-and-cream-puffs for Teagan, @latikaa-renaz for Latika’a, and @bookbornexiv for Sui, @priarch-enterprises-ffxiv

#FFXIVWrite2022 #Silvaineaux #Edarien #Inwa #Louvel #Lyrin'a #Okuni #Talia #Idristan #Elias #Teagan #Latika'a #Sui #There are a bunch of other characters I could also have written about but the list was long enough #Fun characters and people I write with!

[thedarknesssings]

Prompt 17: The Book Shop

Prompt 17: Novel - FFXIV Write 2022 Characters:  Some dead Inquisitor puppeted by something not so dead.

Snow drifted from the sky, coating the stone road ahead of him in fresh white.  Ishgard rose around him, proud and grey in the low cloud curling through its towers.  The book seller in the Crozier was his destination, though his steady pace marks him as in no hurry to get there.  The day was nearing the sun’s pinnacle in its trip through the sky, and his mind was wont to wander just as his gaze stole over the faces of the people passing him.

The cloak he wore swirled the newly fallen snow in his wake, sent it dancing and skittering across the icy flagstones.  Long caramel blond hair swayed down his back, dusting against his hips beneath the cloak, a pair of locks having snuck out to spill down his chest.  The cowl that covered his head also shadowed most of his face.  Only those that passed too close to him, close enough to see within the shadows and to brush against him noticed.  A soft gasp, widened eyes and then the influx of confusion greeted the dim glow of his golden eyes focusing on their faces.  

He shouldn’t be here.  He was dead.  Surely they saw wrong.  Yes, perhaps just an unfortunate look-alike.  Mm, that wasn’t the shape of his nose at all and that frosted paint on his lips was far too garish even for Him.

His hand pushed the door of the book shop open, a pleasant chime announcing his arrival.  He nodded to the clerk at the front desk and moved into the aisles.  Books of short stories, books of poetry, historical accounts, fictional novels, and ahhhh, here.  The History of Ishgard.  He plucked the book off the shelf and flipped it open.  Mm, illustrated even.  

“May I help you find something, sir?”  The cheerful voice sounded almost directly behind him.  His head jerked up, the cowl slipping a touch.  He hadn’t heard her approach.

“No, thank you.  I believe I have found what I wanted.”

“Mm, alright.  Let me know if you need anything then.”  She flashed him a bright smile and turned to wander back down the aisle.  Business was apparently quite slow today.

The pages of the book had the habit of sticking, especially in the folds of the pictures.  Something about the gloss on them, not that he was examining the why.  He flipped and flipped and finally a single slip of paper fluttered out.  The book was snapped shut and replaced on the shelf in favour of stooping to catch the stray bit of paper.  A quick glance and he stuffed it in his pocket.  

He roamed through the aisles.  One book and another pulled out to be examined then slid away.  The clerk began to hum out of tune one of the latest songs popular at the pub.  Eventually he randomly pulled some trash novel off the shelf and moved up to the front desk to pay for it.  He hadn’t so much as looked at the title.  

“Oh, this is a good one.”  The clerk gushed.  “The knight in this is so handsome and dashing.  I totally shipped him with the air captain though, never saw that priest coming.  Did you hear all the fuss about his new series?  Apparently the author was missing?  Fury, I can’t wait to see what he writes next.”

The man tipped his head to the side, puzzled as to what the clerk was on about.  Go figure he’d have selected -that- sort of trash novel.  A romance by the sound of it.  Ah well, he’d leave it out for the staff to read.  He merely smiled thinly and paid for the book.  

The clerk began to quietly sing the same song from before while finishing up the last of the receipt for his purchase.  “I see a red door and want it set on fire.  No colours anymore, I want them to burn black.”

A single caramel hued eyebrow arched.  “What’re you singing?”  He couldn’t quite stop himself from asking.

“Oh, the bards are all singing it.  Some song about some dead Inquisitor.”  She smiled brightly and handed him the book and receipt.  “Here you go.  I got the rest of the series if you like that one.”

“Fantastic.  Thank you.”  His tone was a bit flat as he turned to exit the shop.

#FFxivWrite2022 #Prompt 17 #ffxiv writers #writers on tumblr #short story #vignette #parody songs about dead inquisitors #Latika'a's book #Helios as Charibert

[latikaa-renaz]

FFXIV Writes; Day 25

cw: medical procedure, eye injury mentioned. Set during the Siren's Specter Campaign

characters: Latika'a, Sloane, mentions of Erlanis

The amount of slowly escalated fighting, genuine to the point of nearly reaching physical blows, that had gone into getting the consent he needed was intense. Careful suggestions, pointed comments, and genuine concern had all soured with time; each word said turning spiteful and angry with the hurt pride and fear coming from every side. Even a brief period of screaming when Latika’a had snapped, pushed too far from their situation and Sloane’s stubborn nature striking words like the bullets he shot against every one of Latika’as attempts to convince the man to let him aid. Had it not been for the terse snapped words Erlanis gave then, it would have drawn even more Voidsent to them than was already being sporadically fought off. 

“Fine. Just get it over with, but know if you fuck up…” The words he’d been *needing*, been *waiting* so impatiently for, that Lati would have given up on if this weren’t such a drastic situation. When Sloane finally gave in after another fitful attempt at rest for the three, the bells of moving and scavenging what they could with less and less results wore them down hard… Lati nearly dropped the makeshift bag of lichen and seaweed he’d been trying to clean. The few measly fish they’d managed to gather had already been cleaned and ready to cook as much as possible- the skins stripped down to act as bandaging under the strips of cloth already gathered. “Yes, I get it, you-” Deep breaths were taken, teeth audibly grinding. 

“I get it, I do. I won’t mess this up, now lay down and let me work.” The tension does not dissipate, while Lati turns their hiding spot into an emergency operation zone. Strain and stress fill both Sloane and Lati’s faces as the ultimate creativity and supply use has to come into play. One does not have the tools of the trade needed, and the other struggling past deep rooted fears and thoughts that while Lati does not know… he can empathize with. It’s why he’s let the man go so long without either forcing the procedure or leaving Sloane to die.

He gets it, so much more than Sloane thinks he does. He understands the glimpses of someone else that come in the moments of giving silent company when another nightmare of past traumas lurk up from Lati’s mind, when rough words come out in demands for Lati to take care of himself, when Erlanis is showing his insane amount of skills in fights and there is finally a working balance between them all. Sloane is an asshole, and sometimes so unpleasant when their conversations aren’t superficial flirtations… yet Latika’a grasps what understanding he can.

So he works with precision, with what speed he can- shaping tools from the very earth around them and turning them sterile with his ingenuity and precise spellwork. He cycles the work of slicing mangled flesh out with continuous waves of healing to keep the agony at bay. The wrapped leather torn from his own clothing can only do so much to cushion Sloane’s gritted teeth when the pain flows, the lichen being used as a sponge only holds so much blood that flows from the eye cavity being emptied. It is not an easy procedure in comparison to many- but he takes the route where as much as possible *can* be saved. 

He takes the route of a future prosthetic being possible, even if it means having to fashion a grotesque and slapdash version of the clean dressings he’d normally use. Fingers stained and slick with the eye’s fluid and the body’s blood work through the disgusting sensations. It’s draining, both on his mind for how it screams at the many risks taken and the lack of what he desperately wants in hand compared to the pale imitations he uses despite how his heart screams that he cannot let crew fall. He cannot let the stubborn ass of a man succumb to the infection that awaits, when a future of painful but necessary adjustments and *living* is in sight. 

The moment he’s done, when he can be grudgingly satisfied that the burn of tense muscles have signaled a job well done… what water they have will be split between himself, and the panting Sloane that he eases into sitting. 

It was messy, but it was done. They can call it a day.

#ffxivwrite2023 #steelgrin sirens #specter campaign writings

[blisteringstar]

Character Summary: Grian/Inwa

Alias/nicknames. Real name: Grian, also known as: Sw'inwa Raen, Inwa, Yamazaki Kouki, Little Fox, Mage of the Blistering Sun, The Negotiator, Compassion

Gender. He/Him

Age. 26-ish, 20th Sun of the Fifth Umbral Moon (Oct. 20th)

Zodiac. Libra (Nald'thal)

Abilities + talents. A mage who has studied conjury and thaumaturgy, he specializes in elemental magic and healing. He is also good at Onmyoudo and far eastern priest practices due to his work as a priest. Currently, he is learning other methods such as soul magic, summoning carbuncles, changing his body, and other forms of magic.

outside of magic, there is: studying aetherology, gathering and creating his own tea, dancing, and negotiating when necessary. .

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

Religion. Inwa works as a priest in Hingashi, but outside of that he doesn't follow any actual religions

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

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

Languages. speaks Hingan/Far Eastern at a native level (first language), Fluent in Steppe and Common, Business level Sharlayan, can understand sailor speak

Family. Erdenechimeg Kha (adopted brother), Sabri Bhasin (adopted parent), Enkai (adopted parent), Arsceva (birth mother), Gilvain (birth father), Helivant (uncle), Kieros (uncle), Angellos (maybe uncle), Isolvar (a bastard who shares blood), Idristan (cousin and Isolvar's son)

Friends. Talia Redwing and Silvaineaux Rosaire are his closest friends and the people he trusts unquestioningly, Latika'a comes after that, and then all of Priarch, his boss, and the other Secariots, most people he has ever met who haven't tried to kill him, he did even force friendship on Emet-Selch once.

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 (this depends on the time of year)

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

Hair. white / blonde / brunette / red / black

Eyes. brown / blue / gray / green / black / other (red)

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

Height. 5'1 and a half, 155 cms

Scars. All of his scars are freshly gone! His tattoo is also gone. Dying gave him a fresh body.

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: Oh god no I am terrible at this my mind is suddenly blank and I no longer remember what music is

#sw'inwa raen #ffxiv oc #final fantasy xiv

[liminal-storage]

Olfactory

Prompt 17: Novel

Characters: Okuni Tomioka, with mentions of several members of Priarch and beyond.

Warnings: None of note.

-----------------------

Of all the changes that she's undergone in the last few moons, the power of her olfactory receptors is something she still hasn't fully gotten used to. Things she previously found pleasant now sometimes border on repulsive, whereas the scent of some of the things she'd hated now seem much more aromatic.

Above all, she can pick out individual scents now. That threw her off more than anything else at first, and the art of forcing herself into nose-blindness did not come easily. People, as a general rule, are horrified to learn that you can pick out their smell in a crowd, for better or worse. Not to mention, early on, such scents as they mingled were an incredibly distracting force. It took time and patience, along with expert advice from Lyrin'a, to learn how to filter out the greatest distractions: cooking, the sea air, the forest's ambient fragrance, abhorrent musks that ladies in the markets douse themselves in.

Now that she's mastered the skill more, however, she finds it a rather novel thing to sit in common gathering spots to see if she can guess who's been there most recently.

Lyrin'a's scent tends to hang somewhat subtly on the air; like delicate notes of fine tea leaves, the tiniest hint of bitterness. The smell of medicinal herbs overpowers a lot, but somewhere in there she can pick up on hints of wild berries and wildflowers and the faintest traces of whatever she'd cooked that day. Home. It makes perfect sense that he'd smell like it.

Teagan always brings the scent of baking with her. That much is a given. A strong aromatic bouquet of vanilla and flowers and oddly, birch syrup always permeates her senses around the living sunbeam. Her animals have their own smells that linger faintly on her clothing, along with the unmistakable tang of copper. Funny, how both of her chosen siblings smell like some form of wildflowers.

Latika'a bears the smoky-sweet aroma of burning herbs. Like Teagan, beasts leave their mark on him, particularly in his hair and on his shoulders. Like Lyrin'a, the sharp astringent of medicine attempts to overpower the rest. But you can't cut through the sharp scent of writers' ink, not when it stains your fingers so.

There is a rarely-appearing fragrance that she wouldn't be able to identify at all if not for how up close and personal she'd gotten with its owner; the scent of green wood and leather, barest hints of stone and death that belong to someone else. And a reminder of the audacious question asked of her so long ago now, a question that had led to most enjoyable trouble.

Others have scent-trails which only stick out when she searches for them. Atticus' aroma of grave dirt and, oddly enough, ginger. Laurent and his eternal essence of library and blood that she'd once thought from papercuts. Vardan's smell of machinery and levin and the faint traces of dust. The sea-salt odor which clings stubbornly to Enkai, so painfully nostalgic.

Some smells are harder to isolate, simply due to how they weave and intertwine with others.

With Talia and Idris, for example, she can pick out some individual notes. Talia carries the rich aroma of coffee and machine grease and gunpowder, but also the clean smell of rain. She's always had the scent of something wild about her, though less so these days. Idristan smells of old books and roses, brandy and wool coats. Many warm things, all tempered by the sharpness of cold like the air before snowfall.

Both of them bear the scent of something else, something much harder to quantify. Something heady and fruity and honeyed and narcotic. Night-blooming flowers and feather down, and it took her the longest time to realize that must be fae wine and something of Caedh.

Louvel often smells like fresh coffee too. He smells of liquor and paint thinner, fine oil paints and fresh blood. The intoxicating perfume of petrichor lingers upon him, mingling with something like stone and moss. Sometimes, when he calls upon the abyss, something like a cold-burning smoke chokes her nostrils.

Inwa carries a curious fragrance of fresh, sour apples and sun-warmed earth. His scent reminds her of a crackling hearth, smoky and rich. There are notes of clean silks and crisp springwater, old papers and over-steeped tea. She wonders if he's always smelled the way clouds do before lightning strikes.

Silvaineaux has both a presence and a scent that are impossible to miss. The unmistakable bite of well-kept metal envelops him as a second skin. Strong, clean metal polish has a trace which loves to cling to his sword and gauntlets. Were she unaware of his love for chocobos, their telltale odor would've clued her in. It lingers on the cloth beneath his armor here and there. Soap, sandalwood. Whiskey. Scents that Sui sometimes bears as well, along with hints of sweet citrus.

The most difficult scent to describe is Edarien's. He used to reek of wine and expensive polished leather, but these days the wine scent is weaker. She'd describe his personal bouquet as...loamy, perhaps? Like very cold water and very old stone. Something rich as blood, but strong and briny as dark water. And ancient, truly ancient copper coins, like treasures one would offer to gods of eld.

Instinct makes her wary, but curiosity has her scenting the air every time he passes. Perhaps one day she'll understand enough of it to name its individual components.

Priarch may as well be a perfume shop for all its aromas, and Okuni finds herself curious to know what trace she leaves as she passes through its halls.

#ffxivwrite2022 #my writing #Priarch #liminal-storage

[bookbornexiv]

A mimir

Three mimir

#inwa #latika'a #lyrin'a #the most wholesome meme

[daylightrays]

The Campfire Series Conclusion

Today Inwa was shopping. His dagger and rapier went up in flames during the last mission and he aimed to replace them. Inwa had reason to believe his rapier was not so much destroyed as it was confiscated, but it was lost to him all the same. Latika offered to come along as moral support, knowing how easily frustrated Inwa got when trying to communicate with the shopkeepers.

Ishgard could hardly be rivaled for the workmanship of their weapons. Inwa marveled at every new blade he was introduced to, urged to take them in hand and try them out. His tail swayed energetically, holding a rapier with a feathered guard out to show Latika. He held it with an expert grip checking the balance and weight as he showed it off to his friend. 

“What do you think about this one?” Inwa asked brightly, balancing rapier in one hand. 

“Isn’t that a bit large for you?”

Inwa did not need to be reminded of the issue with shopping for Ishgardian weapons as a height-deficient miqo’te. They were usually designed for elezen-sized wielders, stockier builds and hands two or three times the size of his own. The first few vendors tried to show them the children-sized weapons, a fact Latika got a good chuckle out of, before Inwa (politely) demanded to be shown the selection for adults. Every time Latika pointed out odd proportions, Inwa’s shoulders would droop. Perhaps he would have to go to a different city to replace his lost weapons.

“I’m remiss it’s over. Lore’to’s depictions of Ishgardian Nobility were enjoyable.”

“You aren’t fooling anyone. You were in it for the scandalous relationships.”

Inwa’s attention was on a selection of daggers when he heard the women passing by behind them. His stature straightened, eyes on Latika and his ears turning towards the conversation the noblewomen were having.The two ladies came to stop at the shop set up next to the one they stood at, continuing their conversation about Latika’s Campfire Series of romantic entanglements at Silvaineaux’s expense. 

“--Is still disappointing. I was so sure Siannent would end up with S'akai.” 

“I prefered when he was with Xander. There were real sparks there.”

“I simply don’t agree. He--”

“S tribe ‘red’?” Inwa hissed accusations in hushed tones to the man standing against him. Curiosity had gotten the better of Latika, the pink-haired miqo’te standing shoulder to shoulder with him as he also listened to their conversation. 

“I,” Latika scoffed. If Inwa had read his books like a good friend should have, the name wouldn’t have been a surprise. “He’s a ginger miqo’te with black-tipped hair. Your identity is perfectly safe!”

“How does anyone think you’re clever?!” The tips of Inwa’s ears came down, pointing down and to the sides in his new embarrassment. Was that supposed to be enough for lonely housewives not to question if this random Miqo’te invading their city wasn’t an inspiration for a romance novel?

“He’s tribal and your not. Keep your voice down. I can’t hear their avid praise for my writing.” Latika flapped his hand at his friend, grabbing a dagger and pressing it into Inwa’s hand to remind him why they were there. Inwa should be shopping, not getting mad at him.

“I wish I could understand Lore’to’s choice to go with the new boy for Siannent.”

“It’s well explained how Siannent and S'akai missed their chance. I think it’s deserved.”

The woman huffed at her companion, squaring her shoulders, “I choose to believe it was a rushed pairing. Perhaps the editor didn’t like the Miqo’te angle and pushed for another elezen to complete the trilogy’s feel.”

Inwa put the dagger that he was handed down, wrinkling his nose in defiance at Latika as he picked up a different one. It wasn’t the editor that made Latika change the outcome of the book. After Latika had his draft ready to turn in to his poor, crying editor, Inwa refused to let him publish it. The small war that broke out between the two Miqo’te and the sobbing lalafell ended with Inwa’s changes being accepted, but at a price.

“You may say what you will. S'akai came out with the brother and the manor in the end. I would say he achieved all I believe he deserved and more,” The two women leaned in close to one another, sharing a laugh and continued their stroll down the market. 

Latika took solace in the slow pace of Inwa’s processing of the statement they heard.  By the time Inwa had the mind to hiss out a response, Latika was speed walking stone walkway and away from Inwa’s Ire. 

“What do they mean by ‘came out with the brother’?!” Inwa roared, eyes wide and teeth bared at the retreating figure of the author. There was no escape when they were returning to the same place, but the head start would give Latika the chance to think of a good comeback while the Seeker continued to stand at the weapons shop, holding a dagger he’d no doubt have to buy out of politeness before he headed back to the safe house.

It seemed Inwa would have to read this series after all.

#Writings #ffxiv #ffxiv mateus rp #mateus server #Sw'inwa Raen #Latika'a Renaz #unnamed lalafell editor #The Campfire Series #it's ended it's done #Silvaineaux is free #Now they have to pick a new subject #Who wants to volunteer to be the subject of the next bizarre series #No miqo'te were harmed in this story #yet

[aether-and-archaeology]

Prompt #3: Lost

Dark shadows play across the deep emerald green of the forest floor. It’s not the first time Zhet’s been out in the woods alone, he does it all the time. Wanders off away from his home with his mother to explore. What sort of things can he come across this time? The sylph that he sees all seem to ignore the small miqo’te as he chases after a rustling of leaves. It’s just a nutkin, small with it’s cheeks puffed out with food, but it’s cute and all the small Miqo’te wants to do is see it more clearly.

He hadn’t meant to go so deep.

Hadn’t meant to travel into Larkscall.

Yet there they were, dark shadows made even darker as the sun seemed to disappear behind the imposing wall so far off. Shadows seemed to move in unnatural ways, like tendrils seeking to pull a person into their inky depths. He had to get home. He’d turn, trying to figure out the way he had come from, circles upon circles he’d turn. Still nothing looked familiar. 

“Hello?” His small voice was weak, swallowed by the very same boughs of the trees that blocked the light. “Hello?!” 

Nothing.

Nothing until a new rustling.

“Little nutkin?” The small miqo’te took a few hesitant steps towards the bushes, kneeling down in hopes of finding a small furry face peering back at him. What he was met with instead makes him give a cry and fall back.

One large eye surrounded by sickly yellow leathery hide. The creature flaps it’s little wings and flies towards the frightened miqo’te as he stumbles back and tries to crawl a way, scared cries falling from his lips.

Without another thought Zhet is on his feet and running. Running as fast as his small legs can take him, fear making the sting of the branches that whip his face feel like nothing. All he knew was that he had to get home, he needed his mother, needed her protective embrace. Only once did he look back, regretting it almost as soon as he did. Red eyes fell on that same yellow flapping monster that seemed to give chase, giving it’s own eerie cackle with it’s wide set mouth turned into a grin full of razor sharp teeth. It’s one eye seemed to glow and held a look that Zhet found much too familiar. The same look he had overheard his grandfather describe to his mother. The gaze of a crazed beast bent on devouring.

“Zhet!!” A familiar voice, calling out to him. His mother! She was within sight, but suddenly he felt like his limbs just wouldn’t go further, couldn’t. It was like she was forever so far away.

“Zhet!!”

“Mama!!” He cried, reaching out, things warp around him. Darkness pulls at the edges.

“Zhet!!”

“Zhet….Zhet! Wake up.” A different voice, familiar. “Zhet wake up, come on it’s just a bad dream. 

When he wakes it’s violent, gasping and shooting up. Almost colliding with a tan face topped with bright pink hair. His heart is racing and his eyes take on a deep glow around the edges

PROTECT US!

“Easy! It’s just me!” Hands fly away from his as Zhet’s head snaps to the side. He calms slightly, the tension easing out as it comes to him who it is that woke him. Lati. 

He looks around the room, surprised to see a second familiar face...but maybe not as surprised as he could me. After all, Inwa and Lati always seemed not far from each other. He had to envy it a bit.

“Lati...Inwa what are you doing here?” Sleep made his voice ragged as he rubbed at his eyes, sitting up fully.

“I have the best idea for a costume for you this year for All Saint’s Wake!”

“I couldn’t stop him.”

“You didn’t even try!”

Listening to the two Zhet couldn’t help but smile to himself. He wasn’t alone...he wasn’t lost. He’d always have his friends to pull him from his nightmares. @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

#ffxivwrite2019 #Y'zhet Tia #latika'a renaz #sw'inwa raen

[twitter-hikari]

Prompt 3 - Lost

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

A/N: I discarded four different ideas before finally hitting the one that stuck with me enough. Apologies to @rowles and @leocatausaurusrex, you had good ideas, I’ll come back to them! 

Thank you @goreat and Leo for the borrowing of Lati and Neishin once again.

He will be lonely, she hears. And the other will be angry. Will you please?

She doesn’t know what she agrees to. Not once she steps foot into the realm, mind buzzing with the determination to prove herself. But once upon a time she knew the risks. And the rewards.

*****

The sound of a cackle in the bar she’s a bouncer at brings her head up. “I’m a doctor, you know, take no life, do no harm?” Goes back to her drink before an outraged yowl fills the air and she’s stepping into the fracas, catching the Au Ra’s arm before he could grab the smaller patron.

“It wouldn’t do to push the doctor,” she murmurs, escorting the gentleman out the door, depositing his sword beside him. He sputters before the door to the tavern shuts and she’s taken aback by the flirty face that peers up at her, mildly suspicious but an easy charmer’s smile on.

“Well now lady,” he purred, ears held high in interest. “It seems that I owe you a favor.” 

Agati swallows hard, feeling out of her depth and lost with the meaning laden in the Miqo’te’s words.

****

Will you please take care of them, my sad sons. 

****

This stupid adventure outside of the city is Lati’s fault. 

“I’m just….I haven’t heard from him in ages.” He doesn’t look like it’s much or an issue, but there’s a thread of abandonment in how nonchalant he brings the topic up. “I don’t think that he’s dead, but would you be a dear and mind running out to find him?”

Well no she doesn’t mind, because it’s Lati, who rarely asks her something and she wants to banish that lost look when he references this friend who is out in the gods forsaken sand, in some ruins doing research. This friend is likely lost and now she’s going to have to - “Mind your step!” A carbuncle bounces off her shoulder, sending her reeling back from a hole that had appeared. Agati spits out some of the sand that she’s now covered in. “Oh, I’m sorry, but you really ought to not wander into the ruins unless you have a map. Could lose some time in these traps.” Pale fur enters her sightline, dark spots covering down to the very tip.

“Neshin Nebiru?” She asks quietly, because Latika’a had been very thorough when he’d given her a description of his...something. “I think that you’re being asked back to town.”

Mend their hurt, soothe their broken hearts.

She deposited the tiny Miqo’te into Lati’s arms with a satisfied air. “Tada. One researcher, not lost any more.” 

Lati grunted, arms coming up to hold Nei, looking from him in his arms to Agati’s back as she walked out. “Agatbryda! Agati wait please.” 

And if you let them, they will keep you from being lost as well.

She stopped and came back. 

#ffxivwrite2019 #ffxiv #c: 'Agati' Agatbryda Swinwybwin #c: Neishin Nebiru #c: Latika'a Renaz

[sirensbounty]

#siren's shitposts #Latika'a renaz

[houserosaire]

Day 19 of Junelezen: Friends

Some shots of -some- of Silvaineaux’s friends from Priarch’s mission last night. Top picture: with Sui ( @bookbornexiv ) and Lyrin’a ( @hiraethwyl ) visiting Nophica’s Shrine and  asking questions in Gridiania. Bottom Picture starring: Sui, Inwa ( @daylightrays ), Talia ( @reddevil-xiv ), Okuni ( @liminal-storage ) and Louvel ( @louvel-roche ). Not appearing In these pictures because I couldn’t managed to catch everyone clumped up well enough  early in the evening when all were still present, but also very important friends: Edarien ( @thedarknesssings ), Idristan ( @roses-and-grimoires ), Lanceleaux ( @gorgagne-viperidae ) , Rinalys ( @dawning-star ) Latik’a ( @latikaa-renaz ) Raasa (Whose character tumblr I do not know), and Leila Eris who does not have one.

#Junelezen #ffxiv rp #Priarch things #Silvaineaux Rosaire #Sui Bian #Lyrin'a Muinvel #Sw'inwa Raen #Talia Sergenaux #Okuni Tomioka #Louvel Roche #Edarien Secariot #Idristan Agache #Latika'a Renaz #Rinalys Dawnstar #Raasa Charron #All these great characters!

[catboysimulator]

Story Two - Daily Grind

In the early morning of the desert, the weather feels warm yet fresh against one’s skin. In the wee hours of dawn is when the Seekers of the Sankres begin to awaken, eager to begin their day while the Keepers continue to rest after having turned in only an hour or two prior. Fortunately, the Keepers are quite used to the Seekers’ morning routine of sound-offs, some hooting and others chirping, while the rest bellow and lazily roar.

 Coming out of their adobe homes after getting ready for the day, they are all prepared and eager to finish their workload. The inner machinations of the tribe work like the simplest, yet most efficient, well-oiled machine. Not one person works alone, every Sankre is integral to the pride for things to operate smoothly. Whether it is tending to the farm, taking care of the little ones, feeding the Gryphons, repairing, cleaning, cooking… The list goes on, and on.

 After his arrival, Azhi’li had no idea just where his place was. Everyone worked so easily, as though it was complete second nature. Azhi’li was itching to work, to do something, yet he was worried about trying to offer his help, afraid of making a mess of things.

 Of course, that was only after the first month or so of his arrival. He still feels a bit out of place, but he has gotten much more comfortable.

 “Good morning, Zizi!” a crowd of little voices chime eagerly, screaming and laughing ringing throughout the caverns as a pile of young miqo’te crowd and climb onto Azhi’li. The red Seeker laughs in amusement as the children cling onto him, lolling their heads back as they tug at their cousin.

 “Good mornin’, little ones! C’mon, y’all, get back down! Y’know very well I ain’t a tree!” he chastises them, yet his tone is purely amused. Still, the children listen, getting off Azhi’li and lining up, theatrically puffing up their chests and saluting the older Seeker by pounding their chests with their little fists. The older Seeker couldn’t help but bark out in laughter, rolling his eyes with a giant toothy grin while the young ones also laughed and lightly shoved at each other.

 “Alright, come on. Let’s all head on over to the trainin’ grounds, yeah?”

 Leading them along, the little miqo’te followed their cousin like little ducklings in a row, chattering amongst themselves.

 “What are we going to learn today?”

“I don’t know! Maybe he’ll show us how to split rocks with our BARE HANDS!”

“Or maybe show us how to split the EARTH!”

“Oh, oh! What about if he--?!”

 “Hey, hey! Come on, guys, cut me some slack! That’s all a bit too much ta be learnin’ right now, don’t ya think?” Azhi’li quipped in return while the children whined and asked, “So what are you going to show us today?”

“Mm… Well, before we start, how ‘bout we do some stretches, yeah? Come on! Early mornin’ stretches! Th’more relaxed ya are, th’better you’ll learn!”

 As soon as that was said, the young ones were quick to quit their questions and move on to do as told. Once their 10 minutes of stretching regiments were completed, Azhi'li let out a "whew!" before grinning towards the kids and pumping his fists. "Alright, li'l pugilists! Let's get started t'day, aye?"

"Aye!" they repeated before laughing excitedly.

It has been this way for a few sennights now, where Azhi'li would show the children what he knows, ever since his uncle G'sena told him of their history.

"We were built on the backs of monks, you know," Sena informed him with a gentle smile. "Our ancestors were refugees of Ala Mhigo during the time of King Theodric, when he razed the Temple of the Fist. What few miqo'te that had been under Rhalgr's teachings escaped to Thanalan, and made our home the way it is today. They carved the sides of the mountains with their hands to make our home, and gave us the Sun." He gestured up towards Azeyma's watch.

"Yet, the people here have long since forgotten our monkhood, and we have instead taken upon blades and shields, bows and axes, staves and chakrams. No one here has encountered a monk ever since your father, and even then he was not taught the way you were. We have soulstones, but no one uses them, nor has used them for many summers," he explained further, holding a box within his hands. "No one can open the box without the blessing of our matron. Yet... I believe with you here, Dhezi, you might manage to rekindle that fire within our people and the matron. And the best place to start with that, if you are interested, is with the younger generation."

"I could see that you are feeling a bit out of place still, so this might be a great opportunity for you to get in touch with your cousins... What do you think, Dhezi?"

Ever since that conversation with uncle Sena, Azhi'li had volunteered to take care of the little ones who were interested in pugilism. He wanted to take them through the steps he had first learned back in Ul'dah with the pugilist's guild, and fortunately they all seemed to be taking in the lessons quite well.

For the ones who didn't understand or seemed to struggle a bit more than the rest, Azhi'li was sure to be patient with and take his time teaching them. He knows he has plenty of time here, plenty of time to learn more of his family and to teach them what he knows, as well as learn about what they know.

This is his home.

---------------------------

After training, he takes the little ones to have lunch. Moving into the kitchens, he cooks them up some aldgoat stew, the same way Mama Azhi used to make it for him. He wears a bittersweet smile on his lips the entire time he cooks, soft hums escaping him as his tail sways slowly behind him. 

The children wait outside at the tables for their food, while Azhi'li is joined by some older miqo'te. Sunkissed, sunworn; the crinkles on their face creasing as they smile towards Azhi'li. "Dhezi, dear, that smells wonderful. Is there any way we can help?" 

"Ah! No, y'don't have ta--," he stammers out, before one of them chuckles and places a gentle hand upon his arm. "We would like to."

That makes the red Seeker pause before smiling a bit sweeter, nodding. "Alright. Let's make enough fer everyone, yeah?"

And so they cooked together, making steaming pots of aldgoat stew. The smell wafted out from the kitchens out into the caverns, bringing in many Sankres from each corner. A feast was not really planned out, but, here they are, passing out bowls to everyone so they can all eat together.

Sharing a warm, hearty meal like this, surrounded by so many people who are considered his family... It feels so strange, honestly, with how many there are-- yet, it is not an unwelcome feeling. These strangers are warm, kind, considerate, and caring to someone who they were meant to know all their lives, yet only just met. It helps Azhi'li relax, helps him realize that these people are indeed meant to be his family.

The caverns are full of laughing, smiling faces. Warmed by Azeyma's rays, as well as embraced by Menphina's light. This is not the type of tribe people have always warned him about back in Ul'dah, ever since he was a kid. Truly, what farfetched lies and stereotypes he was fed.

---------------------------

"What're ya making, Zizi?"

Approached by a young miqo'te, G’luna, Azhi'li looks up from his craft before offering a gentle grin. "Wanna see?"

"Yeah!" The little one's too-large-for-their-head's ears perk up and his giant, round eyes widen considerably as he steps closer and peers down at what Azhi'li was doing.

Weaving beads together, Azhi'li held onto the string carefully before lifting it to show the curious one.

"Oh! You're making a necklace?"

"Well, makin' that 'nd more. There's a lot of tagua that tio Sena told me about, 'nd the abuelitos showed me how to make jewelry out of them, so..."

"Why are you making so many, though? Do you like to wear them?"

"I do! But these are not for me. They are for m'friends 'nd family."

"... But we are right here? And we already have enough?"

Azhi'li couldn't help but to laugh lightly, nodding. "Ya are, 'nd ya do! But, I'm talkin' 'bout m'other friends 'nd family outside of the Sankres. I have more brothers 'nd mamas that aren't here, y'know!"

"More brothers? Why aren't they here, then?"

"Mm, b'cause they have their own family."

"... I don't get it."

"Haha, that's okay. So, y'know how y'have yer friends, right?" Azhi'li inquires while smiling, continuing to polish some more tagua before weaving them with string. Luna nods. 

"Well, I have many friends. People who are not related to me, yet that I know and that I enjoy th'company of. Some a'those people I consider very close, closer than anyone else that I know... so they're like family to me, too. Yer family doesn't only have ta consist of th'people y'were born with, but they can be yer friends, too."

"-- Oh. Okay, I think I understand, now. So, my best friend can be family, too?"

"Well, why not?"

"I dunno."

"So then what would stop ya from callin' 'em such?"

"... Nothing?"

Azhi'li would give them a toothy grin at that, nodding. The young one released a small 'ooh' of revelation, before shifting to sit beside the older Seeker. "... Can I help you make these? How many are you making?"

"Aw, hey, a'course y'can. I'm makin' lots! I gotta make some fer Toadie, Miss Rei, K'ilhi, Mama Azhi, Zi'a, Zi'to... Miss Nana, Ryska, Si'ra, Livia, Latika'a, Yato... ... Poki," he murmurs towards the end, his voice growing smaller the more names he listed. The names he missed more and more as the days went by. 

The little one canted their head to the side, looking up at Azhi'li with brows pinched upwards. "Zizi?"

He hadn't realized it, but globs of tears were pouring down his face. He takes in a sharp breath, lifting a paw to wipe at his eyes while muttering, "Sorry, 'm sorry."

Wordlessly, G'luna shifted onto their knees, shuffling closer to Azhi'li and embracing him warmly. "Papa always told me to never apologize for tears, he says they are blessings of one's love."

With a nod, the red Seeker shifted to return the embrace, taking a few moments of deep breaths before pulling away and stroking Luna's head. "Thank you, prime. ... Well, let's make the prettiest collares y pulseras for everyone, hm?"

"Yeah!"

#zizi's arc #story time #azhi

[latikaa-renaz]

Day 5, Barbarous

Contents: for an ongoing plot, references to how creepy the Renaz can be.

Characters: Latika'a and various unnamed Renaz family members, references to Poki'to

It wasn’t a simple matter, what Poki had requested. Though his people traveled alone and separated when away from the settlements- that didn’t mean there wasn’t a way to communicate with them. It was discouraged of course, counteracting the general purpose for their seeding into the populous at large- communications between Family were supposed to be conducted in a specific manner. 

“Lati? We’ve got a problem-”

To go against the set rules would need a reason that would hold up to scrutiny. Not even dire danger was a sure fire excuse for such an action, but Latika’a doesn’t care in the moment. This is a problem they’ve been requested for by an ally, by someone he claimed as the brother of his heart. It would not have been enough if not for that, and for the promises he makes of a fair payment to be made.

It brings those hands that are close and willing to his dwelling with an unnervingly quick time. The various Renaz that linger through each ilm and crack of society shed their guises for the night, stepping through the doorway of Lati’s home with sharp teeth on full display to match Lati’s own in greeting. 

“-and you’re gonna need to mobilize your freakhouse of a family to track them down.” 

The pictures that had been sent to him were motivation to some. (“Oh, what artistic quality! Such beautiful work was done, how could I not encourage the birth of more art to come- you must promise me that there will be more when we find them all.” Chirps one cousin, golden hair falling as the hyur lovingly gazes at the scenes of death on Lati’s tomephone. A lover of beauty in all it’s twisted forms, determined to capture it all on whatever medium possible. )

 The promise of a wonderful chase alluring enough to others. (Another cousin lounges on the cushions Lati has pulled out for this meeting, giving a rough snort for such a petite body- the au’ra with a face shrouded by veils sitting with their similarly dressed mi’qote hunting partner standing above. “So these people think themselves to have stealth, beyond Us? We will enjoy finding and breaking such arrogance down.” Hunters by trade and choice, feeling completion when in the pursuit of anything that was deemed to be prey.)

The idea of justice being done cinched the deal for another. (Another Mi’qote this time, tail lashing to and fro with fury. “What wretches, to commit such heinous actions and think to be allowed to roam free? Nay, this cannot be allowed- I will not allow it now that I know.” Always a hot headed one, the owner of the maelstrom coat that hung on the coat rack would be glaringly obvious. )

His cousins that had gathered in the dead of the night to answer the ringing call to action shared one thing despite the varied reasons to aid Latika’a’s request. The loyalty to an ally of the Family, as was only right by their laws. The crowd gathered in the room shared a cruel and savage smile between them, knowing what was to come.

The hunt was on, and it would not be kind to those that would be found.

#ffxivwrite2023 #renaz lore drop

[silvertail-ffxiv]

Cloves: For a drabble about the things/situations/people that make my muse feel most at home.

@xaelic-voidknight - thank you for the ask!

Spicy Drabble Prompts

@latikaa-renaz - for mentions!

WARNING - involves two guys cuddling and such. No sex, but you know...if you can’t handle the snuggles, be warned.

Jes headed toward the door with a quite drunk Latika'a still in his arms. His tail gave a soft sway or two, a hint of nerves. Still, he had the lovely rose-haired Miqo'te purring in his arms, apparently enjoying his presence. That helped with the worry that he might do something rude or upset the other. Surely if he did something wrong, Lati would let him know. He was normally very tolerant of Jes and that was one of the reasons the silver-haired Keeper was less nervous around him than other 'pretty people'. Lati had made him terribly nervous at first, but he was happy and patient and that went a long away.

His fluffy ears tilted back at the memory of a few other 'pretty people' that made him uneasy, but he gently pushed those thoughts to the side. There were other things to worry about. He managed to open the door and was rather surprised by what he saw.  It was small, for one, and very homey. A little cramped, but it seemed softly of herbs and fur. He had expected something more in line with Lati's style of clothing. Beautiful, silky, and 'fancy', he supposed. Instead, it was rather...humble. And full of books. He looked at them with a moment of longing. He loved to read and often didn't get the chance but was distracted by the Miqo'te in his arms.

"The bed is that way, darling," Lati purred, voice just slightly slurred but still silk to the ears. He gestured gracefully with finely manicured claws in the proper direction.

"Of course," Jes murmured, ears twitching gently. "Do you need anything to drink before you sleep?"

"Mmm, good man," Lati hummed, patting his chest gently and sending a small thrill through him. "Get a pitcher of water and some glasses, would you please? Always best to drink water after drinking stronger things."

Jes nodded but stepped into the tiny bedroom first with the other still in his arms like a bride. It was a tiny space, more than he would have expected. It was on part with his little corner of the loft at home that he called 'his room'. He eased Lati down at the edge of the bed, pressing a light kiss to the short hair. "I will be right back."

He headed for the kitchen, taking a few minutes to find what he needed. He filled the pitcher and took two glasses, returning to the bedroom and blinking. Lati was tangled up some in his shirt, apparently still a bit too drunk to manage it properly. Or perhaps he could and just wanted to see what Jesah'ya might do. The pale-haired Miqo'te felt a little tug of guilt at the thought. Lati had never given him a reason to suspect such things, but trust was hard sometimes. He set the water down and moved to squat in front of the other.

"Let me," he whispered, trying not to allow his hands a little nervous quiver at the idea of touching Latika'a. Part of it was that he was attractive to him, but another part was the instilled idea that someone like Lati was not for him. Not to be touched. Not to be disobeyed. Not to be refused anything. And certainly not for someone like Jesah'ya to take any liberties with. He squeezed his hands into fists for a moment, reassuring himself that Latika'a had asked him here, asked him company. Breathing out a slow careful breath, Jes moved to undo the buttons, slowly as they were a tad more intricate than the simple ties he had on his own clothing.

"Mmm, thank you, darling Jes," Lati sighed, just slumping against him and absently petting one of the larger male's arms. "So much nicer to have help."

"Of course," Jes murmured, easing the shirt down. He wasn't sure what to do with it so settled on laying it nearly on a nearby surface, half-folded. Hopefully, that would do. He was surprised when he looked back to realize that Latika'a had a scar on his left shoulder. He put his fingers to it before he could speak, brushing the slightly raised ridges. He felt a little bit of heat as Lati purred at his touch, breath warm against Jes's neck. He swallowed and looked down, noticing a covering on the rose-haired male's arm. "Here, let me--"

"No!"

The denial startled Jes a tad, enough that he jumped and jerked his hands away as if Lati's flesh suddenly burned. "I am sorry! I just--"

For a moment, Latika'a looked wild-eyed and cornered, clamping his other hand over the covered. Golden eyes were wide and full of something that Jes had a hard time reading. Fear or worry perhaps? He could practically smell the distress coming off the other Keeper, even as Lati tried to cover it with a bright smile and a forced calmness. "Not at all, darling. Just...this can stay. Don't worry about it." He laughed, but there was an edge of strain.

"...Of course, Lati," Jes said, feeling a surge of sympathy and a bit of confusion. "Of course." He moved slowly, gently squeezing his hand over the other man's hand that covered the wrap, reinforcing he would leave it where he wanted. "It is all right. However you are comfortable." On impulse, he lifted the other's hand in both of his and brushed his lips against Lati's knuckles. "It is okay. I will do nothing you do not give permission for."

Lati stared a moment and cleared his throat, giving a small chuckle. "I know, dear. I know. Just--" He seemed to try and figure something to say, but settled on running his fingers through Jes's hair, drawing another purr from the pale Keeper. "I think sleeping is a good idea."

Jes nodded, giving the other's hand a final squeeze before releasing it. He leaned back a bit so he could peel off Lati's shoes and other items of clothing, although he left his pants on. He stood to pour the water, offering it to Lati. Once he was done, he tucked Lati in, unable to help a smile when the other purred and relaxed more. He had turned, intending to go when a slim hand snagged his wrist. Jes froze and looked back, eyebrows raising.

"I still want you to stay, Jes," Lati murmured, although his grip eased. "I'd like it if you did."

"Are you sure?" Jes asked, raising his eyebrows and trying to keep his fluffy tail from giving nervous flicks.

"Get in the bed, Jesah'ya," Lati chuckled, closing his eyes and brushing a thumb over the other man's knuckles. "Come keep me company so I can sleep better."

"Yes, Lati," Jes murmured, swallowing a bit. It didn't occur to him to protest.

After a long moment, Jes moved to remove his gear. He found a spot and set his weapons down where they were out of the way and hopefully not to be tripped over. He peeled off the furs and set them down, briefly wondering if he was even clean enough to share a bed with someone like Latika'a. The thought made his tail curl uncomfortably around his legs again. He tried to push away the thought with the reassurances that Lati knew Jes enough to know what he was like. So clearly he knew what he was inviting into bed. He leaned down to peel off his boots, leaving himself in a set of soft deer-skin shorts. He glanced at Lati, but the other had his eyes closed, breathing calm. Perhaps Lati was already asleep. He thought about heading for the door.

"You're gorgeous," Lati said with an appreciative sigh and a purr, not opening his eyes. "Now stop looking at the door and come here, darling." He lifted his hand, wiggling his fingers to beckon the other.

"Yes, Lati," he found himself murmuring again, once again a bit helpless to refuse.

Swallowing and taking a deep breath, Jes went to the bed and studied it. It was small, but there was room enough for two. They would just be close. Very close. He shoved down the surge of ingrained guilt and worry that said he certainly shouldn't be sharing a bed with Lati, at least not overnight. He dug his claws into his palms for a moment before easing into the bed. He wiggled down, close to the edge, and did his best not to touch. He had just settled, pleased he'd managed it when Lati reached back and grabbed his hand.

"If you did not have five children, I would think you were a virgin, Jes," Lati whispered with a chuckle. "Come here, darling. It's all right. I want you close."

Jes allowed himself to be tugged nearer, settling more comfortably in the bed. Latika'a wiggled back pressing himself into the curve of Jes's body. He fit rather nicely and it sent a warm, confusing thrill through Jes yet again. There was a little tugging and arranging, but Lati's head ended up on Jes's bicep, giving him a nose full of soft hair. Allowing no protest, the rose-haired Miqo'te pulled Jes's other arm around his chest, fingers entangled. A moment later, a sleek tail curled around Jes's thigh and Lati's legs tangled with his.

"There," Lati purred, voice drowsy. "Much better. Good night, Jes."

"Good night, Lati." His lips were against the back of the other's neck and his words drew a pleased purr and a warm sigh.

It didn't take Lati long to fall asleep, but it was a little harder for Jes. He did not sleep with others. It was not that it wasn't good, but it was different, strange. Lati's scent filled his nose and it made him just a touch dizzy. There was a heady perfume of some kind, floral notes he didn't know enough to identify.  Under that was herbs and spice, faint but enticing. He could faintly smell medicine, but near buried was a warm, rich scent that was simply Latika'a. Jes closed his eyes, unconsciously pressing his nose against the crook of Lati's neck and breathing deeply that scent. It made his arms tighten a bit and he curled a little closer to that lovely scent and warmth. A rumble rose out of his chest and he rested his head between the other's shoulder blades.

He felt a little ache and something eased in his chest. Some cold spot, some loneliness that he'd lived with for so long it was second nature. For tonight at least, it was filled with warmth instead. Warmth and a soft comforting scent and the sound of Lati's breathing. He shifted a bit, pressing his hand against the other's chest so he could feel the steady beat of the man's heart. With a sigh, he shut his eyes, feeling a sting of tears for reasons he couldn't understand and didn't want to examine too much.

Instead, he focused on feeling safe and warm. On feeling like he wasn't alone. Of feeling just a little bit like home. He couldn't resist a kiss against Lati's shoulder and a whispered 'thank you' in the dark that likely fell on sleeping ears. It didn't matter though.

What mattered was for right now, Jesah'ya was somewhere safe and good and not alone. Even if it was for one night only, he was grateful and he curled around Lati closely, savoring what he had.

#character: jes #answers #drabbles #lati #xaelic-voidknight

[liminal-storage]

[2 of 2]

Annnnd more screenshots from Priarch’s “Prom AU” anniversary party event!

I think I got everyone but Sui and Nyr, because my focus was dying very quickly this evening. It was a ton of fun regardless! 

#ffxiv #screenshots #silvaineaux rosaire #idristan agache #louvel roche #latika'a renaz #okuni tomioka #talia sergenaux

[bookbornexiv]

💭💭💭

"I fear it wounded him a little too greatly to hear so much ill spoken of Halone when he and Inwa came by the shrine... I may have said rather heated things about the Fury many times in his presence, myself. Oh Nophica, why did You make this man with such infuriatingly unshakable faith?"

"I still don't understand why he was so bothered by the books.. the art.. Latika'a was talking about.. I'd like to understand but it doesn't seem like something he would like to explain..."

"Will you betray me too, some day? Of course I believe you will not. I pray you will not. Will I let you, if you do? I don't know. I'm going to stop thinking about this."