#Wind-up Amalj'aa

[artilaz]

"You're standing on the construction plans, son."

It's sort of become my headcanon that the Wind-up Amalj'aa minion is an actual Amalj'aa hatchling entrusted into Aozhan's care by the Brotherhood of Ash, to become the counterpart to Loonh Gah. While she grew up living like an Amalj'aa, he'll grow up experiencing the Eorzean cultures firsthand, and potentially become an ambassador between them and the beast tribes. So instead of being confined to Southern Thanalan, he goes wherever Aozhan goes, and right now he seems very excited to help with the construction of the Dezul Qualan :)

#Final Fantasy #FFXIV #Aozhan Monbaro #Male Hyur #Hyur Highlander #Sezul Totoloc #Tataramu #Wind-up Amalj'aa #In other words I'm starting to really enjoy the Ixali tribal quests again 😭

[tritoch]

one thing i like to do when i'm feeling too unbothered and chill and normal is read venat discourse on twitter. makes me insane every single time it comes up. "she placed herself as a god above the ancients and judged that they had no right to live" "she was taking the only path available to her to stop meteion and defeat the final days because it needed to be a race that could handle dynamis" wrong wrong wrong! learn to read!

venat was stopping a planned mass sacrifice of non-ancient life by the only means available to her. that is the primary motivation for the sundering. shadowbringers says this to you, very very clearly. hythlodaeus in "a greater purpose," 5.0 (this is when you're chilling at the DMV together):

The Convocation of Fourteen─well, it was Thirteen at the time─endeavored to create a will for our star. They would repair the fundamental laws of order and halt the spread of destruction. But creation on such a scale required an immense source of power... Of those of us who still lived, nearly half offered up their lives in the name of salvation. And from their sacrifice, Zodiark was born. Just as we had hoped, He reached forth and halted the march of oblivion. ...Yet oh how the star had suffered. So many species lost. The land was blighted, the waters poisoned, and even the wind had ceased to blow. Once more did our people give of themselves to Zodiark. Another half of our race sacrificed to cleanse the world; to ensure that trees and grasses and myriad tiny lives would sprout and grow and flourish. The cycle of life had begun anew, and we reconsidered the means by which we might protect it. The Convocation decided thus: we would nurture our world until it was bursting with vitality. Then, when the time was right, we would offer some portion of its living energy to Zodiark... In return, He would restore to us those brethren whose souls had fed His strength, and together we would resume our role as stewards. There were, however, those who disagreed with this plan. They argued that enough had been sacrificed to Zodiark─that this new world should belong to the lives newly born. These dissidents surrendered their life energies in the creation of Hydaelyn, an incarnation of their opposing belief. And for the first time in history, our people stood divided... Know you, then, how this conflict ended?

Hythlodaeus is very clear: Following the first 50% sacrifice to Zodiark, the land was dying and there had been a mass die-off. A second 50% sacrifice (so 25% of the pre-Zodiark Ancient population) resolved that, cleansing the world and restoring nature and non-Ancient life. Afterwards, the Convocation planned a third sacrifice: they would "nurture [the] world until it was bursting with vitality," the "trees and grasses and myriad tiny lives" he describes earlier, and then sacrifice some considerable amount of that life to restore the Ancients comprising Zodiark.

People pretend that there's a lot more ambiguity on this point than there is, but it's quite clear that when he says "myriad tiny lives," he is saying something that encompasses the modern peoples of Eorzea or their very near ancestors (it's only been about 12,000 years since the Sundering. For comparison early modern humans emerged about 300,000 years ago, and there's no suggestion I'm aware of that evolution even exists on Etheirys anyhow). There's a couple very strong pieces of evidence for this:

First, anything that exists on multiple shards must have existed pre-Sundering, since there's close to no multidimensional travel (barring Ascians and the Exarch). Thus, all the player races, which we know exist on each shard so far, as well as, say, the Amalj'aa, the Kobolds, the Sahagin, and the Qiqirn, all must have existed before the Sundering since we also see them on the First.

Second, the phrasing of "trees and grasses and myriad tiny lives" positions "lives" as a category that encompasses everything that isn't trees and grasses. We can surmise that when he describes the Hydaelyn faction standing for "lives newly born" he's again describing basically everything that isn't plants. this again includes the spoken races of the current game or their ancestors; they are a clear part of what was at stake in the sacrifice.

Third, if that doesn't persuade you that Hythlodaeus is talking about lives like yours, consider that you've just spent the last few quests exploring the city full of giant ancient magic people going "wow! you're so small and childlike! what a miniscule living being you are!" When Hythlodaeus gives this speech about "myriad tiny lives," he is a literal enormous giant sitting next to you, a very tiny living being from his perspective.

This sacrifice, which Hythlodaeus explains to you in the DMV, is the crux of the matter and the root of Venat's choice. The time loop, her knowledge of Meteion, the debate over the right solution to the final days—all of that is secondary. She explicitly is unsure up until you meet her in the Aitiascope whether the time loop is stable and real and applies to you.

The essential issue is the fact that the Ancients are supposed to be stewards of the star, and now they are going to engage in mass sacrifice of lives that Venat knows are people like her and her peers (mostly this is thanks to being a humanist who believes in the sanctity and dignity of life but she also has the confirmation of your post-sundering, totally humanlike existence). Just a quarter of the Ancients' original number remain, their society is in tatters, and what's left is in the process of actively betraying every ideal they ever claimed to hold by slaughtering the life they allegedly guide and care for (which they know to be ensouled!) to undo the great and noble sacrifice of their loved ones.

but venat's faction is weak. it's her and like 13 sorta-important people she knows plus maybe some unnamed others. they lack the numbers or the raw ability to make something that can defeat zodiark, and will need instead to lean on venat's abilities.

her morals do not allow her to stand by as the convocation plans a mass sacrifice of "lesser" life. her circumstances do not give her the time or ability to win them over through rhetoric or decisively defeat them with force. nor can she actually destroy zodiark, because then the final days would simply resume. nor, I assume, is she interested in straight up slaughtering what remains of the ancients until the convocation's plan becomes impractical, assuming she is even strong enough to do so with just the twelve and the watcher's ancient selves for backup. there is no longer an option on the table which does not involve great pain. left to choose between unacceptable options, she chooses the one route which seems able to protect the vitality of the world and uphold the ancients' mission of shepherding all life upon the star towards flourishing: the sundering.

#venat #ffxiv #endwalker spoilers #the sundering

[keicordelle]

The Daily Inconveniences of an Au Ra: Recognizability

Being an Au Ra in Eorzea meant that, by definition, he had no anonymity. Oh, people feigned not recognizing him sometimes, offering him half-hearted comments like, "You don't look like you're from around here," or "Do you happen to know anyone who might be strong enough to...". But, as he'd encountered only a handful of other Au Ra in his time in Eorzea, and most of them living as discretely as possible, he really doubted that anyone on the continent hadn't heard his description. "Seven fulms tall with horns and a tail" was rather hard to miss, he judged, no matter the polite games strangers played.

Sometimes it worked to his advantage. He hadn't had to pay for an ale in many moons, and he was pretty well guaranteed work any time he needed it just by showing up somewhere. But most of the time... Most of the time his uniqueness was a burden.

Most problematic as an adventurer was that it made espionage and subtlety absolutely impossible. He couldn't blend in with a crowd if his life depended on it - and occasionally it did. Any enemies could pick him out a mile away, and forget trying to surreptitiously inquire about anything. No one was likely to forget that a giant lizard had come to ask about their boss's comings and goings, and it wasn't like he could pretend to be an inhabitant of any city on this continent. He could maybe have gotten away with it back in Othard, where at least Au Ra were relatively common, so long as no one thought too hard about the fact that his horns were black, not white.

At least it let him pretend that people were afraid of his reputation and not his alien appearance when they shrank from him at first meeting. The wide-eyed stares and pointing fingers of children in the streets were obviously because he was a great adventurer and not just because he was big and pointy and scaled. No matter that after years of relative isolation on the Steppe, several of the other races were equally unusual to him (what even was the deal with Miqo'te? Why did their tails have fur, but nowhere else on their bodies seemed to? And Viera, who had the ears of a rabbit but no other shared traits that he could see. Did they have little cottontails tucked into their pants?). At the very least, it made him far more willing to work with the so-called 'beast tribes' than any Eorzean he'd ever met. So what if they looked and acted a little different? Everything over here was bizarre anyway, and most would say the same about him. The main difference between Xaela and Amalj'aa that he could see what's the number of scales on their bodies - and that the latter had an even worse time blending in than he did. At least his stature was still within the realm of reasonability in a land where Roegadyn also flourished.

"Keshet?"

The sound of his name in the middle of a bustling street in Ul'dah should not have surprised him, but he still jumped. Sighing, he tugged off the hood that he'd pulled down over his face in an attempt to achieve anonymity and twisted to face the white haired Elezen who'd called out to him. "Hello Alphinaud."

The boy took in the cloak that covered his usual outfit and the tail Keshet had tucked under its folds and winced apologetically. "My apologies, were you attempting to disguise yourself?"

"Attempting and failing, it would seem," he responded wryly.

Alphinaud offered him a sympathetic smile. "Your horns leave quite an imprint against the hood, and the base of your tail juts out against the fabric. And I'm sorry to say that even without any of that, your gait will always give you away to those who are familiar with you." He cocked his head. "Why were you trying to hide your identity anyway?"

Cheeks heating, Keshet looked away. "I didn't want to be recognized while standing in line for the release of the new Wind-Up Scions toys," he mumbled. "I'm still missing Urianger."

Alphinaud coughed to cover the bark of laughter the admission elicited. "You- Ah. That is. Understandable. However, I think your disguise unlikely to succeed."

Taking a deep breath, Keshet rolled his shoulders and stripped off the cloak. "Then if I cannot hide, I shall simply have to be so unabashedly confident that none would think to question my presence." Ah well. In truth, hiding and subterfuge never became him anyway. And maybe his reputation would be enough to let him skip the line and finish off his collection.

Read the rest of the series on Ao3!

FIRST | PREV | NEXT

#ffxiv #ffxiv fanfiction #au ra #wol #alphinaud leveilleur #my writing #daily inconveniences #keshet dotharl #~K

[steak-n-popotoes]

FFxivWrite '23 - 10

"So, you do not know wherrrre the boy has gone?" U'odh Nunh asked. He spoke with his back turned, addressing them over his shoulder. "That simply won't do, will it?"

Eryna's eyes narrowed. "You do know something, don't you?"

In the span of a heartbeat, Caranar spun the older man around and seized him by the collar.

"Do you always succeed with a show of brrrute force and blind courage, I wonder? The nunh I once fought also believed that his strrrength would save him. He was wrong." Despite his words, something sparked alight in his eyes at the rough treatment, something proud and defiant. "And now I am nunh." Few among his sons would dare to lay a hand on their father; to display such bold foolishness.

"Stop. Where is he?"

U'odh Nunh slapped Caranar's hands away in response. "Across the desert to the east lies an Amalj'aa encampment. There dwells a warrior renowned both for his strrrength and his guile." He paused to assess the state of his clothing. "I gave the boy a test, nothing more."

"You sent him after Amalj'aa alone!?" Eryna shouted.

Caranar turned and charged through the door, headed in the direction of the encampment.

Astride her chocobo, Eryna was not far behind.

U'odh Nunh's lip curled into a smile as he watched them crest the dunes and disappear. The test had begun.

~~~~~

U'zhango watched in silence... for what felt to be an eternity.

Amalj'aa came and went.

From her vantage point, U'zhango saw them clear as day. For hours she watched, until she could distinguish between them by their warpaint and the weapons at their side. If she were to deal a decisive blow, she would need to strike true.

The encampment's primary war band consisted of many grunts who were direct subordinates of a single superior warrior, distinguished by a necklace heavy with trophy marks.

One would think that the simplest way to defang the fiends would be to slay their strongest warrior... but U'zhango Odh was her father's daughter. To face this proven fighter was to court failure, as so many had done before. Her aim laid where vulnerability and value crossed.

U'zhango felt every muscle in her body tense up as her pupils grew wide and her tail lashed in anticipation. She pressed herself flat into the sand amidst the dry desert grass. Her prey had appeared.

Sporting a distinctly decorated, yet by the same token untested spear, one Amal'jaa broke away from the group. He passed through the encampment's gate, alone, and stalked over to the spring near where U'zhango was hidden.

The wind rolled over her back, sending a shiver up her spine. She was ready to pounce. Before her, bearing a pensive gaze into the branches of a sun-baked and shadeless tree, was the Amalj'aa tactician who organized raids on merchant caravans in order to gather unbelievers for Ifrit's pyre. There was no need to face the encampment's finest fighters if she could but destroy their greatest mind... Her father would be most pleased.

The time to act had come to pass.

U'zhango lunged forward, fang and claw bared. She swept across the sands in a low stance, ready to swing for her prey's tendons and strip from him the ability to stand.

But before she could close the distance, the tactician spun and dashed his lance along the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust and debris that obscured her vision and sent her off-balance.

How did he know!? U'zhango thought. He had acted without hesitation, as though he knew she was there. Of course! The wind!

When the wind changed direction, her scent must have been carried toward her prey. Such an amateur mistake, more typical of a mewling initiate! She had allowed her confidence to narrow her vision.

And her opponent knew an opportunity when he saw one. He was on her in an instant, charging shoulder first to turn her moment of unbalance into a window of vulnerability. The two toppled over with U'zhango's back to the sand and her 'prey' putting all of his weight into forcing his lance past her defense and between her ribs.

Need to live! She thought as she gripped the spearhead. Need to kill him!

The bloodied shard of stone sank closer and closer to her breast.

Kill him! Kill him!

A whistling sound whispered into her opponent's ear as a feathered arrow lodged itself in his skull. The weight shifted suddenly off the lance as the Amalj'aa slumped sideways. From the direction of the encampment's watchtower, a mournful cry echoed across the desert...

As U'zhango rolled away and pushed herself out of the dust, the sight of her rescuer filled her with equal parts relief and annoyance.

~~~~~

From a safe distance away stood Beef, one hand on his bow and the other behind the bowstring, an arrow loosed moments before. His hands did not tremble, and his aim was true.

Caranar tossed the spear aside as the Amalj'aa veteran ceased moving.

Eryna stepped around the body and inspected Caranar's wounds - surface-level, all - before setting about mending them.

"The hells... were you thinking?" Caranar managed, still attempting to catch his breath.

"This is not the sort of fight you pick alone." Eryna added, giving Beef a stern but concerned look.

Beef looked between the two in confusion. "Fight?" Hadn't they been the ones to start the fight?

Caranar hoisted him under his arm. "C'mon, kid. We're gonna have a talk about this back in town."

~~~~~

If U'odh Nunh was surprised when the three crossed his doorstep mid-scolding, he gave no indication. "Tell me, adventurerrrs: is our old nemesis dead?"

Caranar plopped Beef down in a seat and crossed his arms in disapproval. "The Amalj'aa's dead, if that's what you're asking."

"So the spear served its purrrpose." he nodded. "And you passed your test."

"I believe you owe us an explanation, and it had better be damned good." Eryna replied, having tired of tests and games long ago.

"The spear? It belonged to one of his brrrothers. I knew when he spied it from afar, he would be unable to rrresist venturing outside the encampment to see for himself."

"No. About why you were willing to endanger Beef so carelessly."

"Endangerrr?" U'odh Nunh chuckled, a low purring rumble which rose from his core. "I asked that he did nothing more than place the spear and observe. U'bifu Tia is as much a child of the U as my own daughters, blood or no. I had no doubts that he would fulfill this duty as rrrequested."

He shot a sharp look to Eryna and Caranar. "The test was for you."

Eryna placed a hand on her hip, while Caranar's eyes narrowed.

"I know this boy. He would give his life for a strrranger. I can see from a glance that you lot are prrrepared to face Titan. What I needed to know before I let you journey a single step furrrther with my daughter's son, was if these strangers would give their lives for him."

The Nunh glanced to Beef, aware that he had broached a delicate topic in mentioning U'zhango. "Well? You're filthy, child." He waved a dismissive hand toward him. "Go have a bath, you've gotten dust on my carrrpets."

As Beef hurriedly excused himself and trotted off to the bathing spring, his family watched him go.

Something sorrowful and unspoken hung in the air.

Caranar closed his eyes as though he could shut out the conversation that he knew had to happen.

Though she ached to tell Beef the truth, Eryna continued to tell herself that the time still wasn't right.

U'odh Nunh sighed heavily. "Now that I know I can trust you with the matter of his safety, I suppose we should discuss the matter of his hearrrt."

#FFxivWrite2023 #FFxivWrite #Eryna Spellgrave #Caranar Bairon #U'zhango Odh #Beef Broganoff #haha. purrpose

[stardustdiver]

Name: Wintgeim Slafzedyrwyn (Winter Gem, Daughter of Sleeping Cedar)

Gender: Female

Age: 20 (ARR), 26 (EW)

Nameday: 9th Sun of the First Astral Moon

Hometown: Moraby Drydocks

Likes: Chilli Jam (person), Theia, Blue, Soft toys, Rum, Ocean, Grebuloff

Dislikes: Eulmore, Lolorito Nanarito, Sahagin, Leviathan

Shortly after the 7th Umbral Calamity, aged 14-15, Wint had a newfound ability, one that would more often than not get her into trouble by allowing her to learn secrets she wasnt supposed to know. As a result of these newfound abilities, she thought may aswell cause some problems along the way and joined the misfit band of pirates - the Sirens, where she meets her childhood best friend Chilli Jam, and they end up always by eachothers side and bailing eachother out of situations.

It was at this point she found herself a rapier (missing its focus) left abandoned and forgotten, she picked it up and was determined to learn the art of swordplay. Also in this time she aquires Tsukuyomi's Revolver from aboard a Garlean ship bound for Doma, and from that day onward she was determined to learn how to use a gun, so that one day she can use her loot without fear of damaging or losing it. In the meantime her loot gets stashed away in an unnamed location, to be retrieved once she has learned how to properly use her new gear.

However aunt Merlwyb (her mum Sylb's sister) wasnt overly fond of the concept that her neice was on this slippery slope of piracy, and tried to help her out. Wint however anticipated the worst result if she was caught (perhaps at the hand of rumours from fellow Sirens), and commenced evasive manoeuvres whenever Merl, Maelstrom, or Yellow Jackets were within sight.

She finally gets caught one day (aged 17) and The Admiral offers her a path: a clean slate - going to Ul'dah with a reasonable sum of money to get her going. Maybe become an adventurer, or perhaps Ul'dah has a yrade she can learn. So away she goes to Ul'dah, clean slate and a pocketful of gil, what will she do? Then around aged 19-20 she returns to Limsa and joins the Maelstrom - determined to make a change for the better.

However on one of her first squadron missions she was on a patrol mission within the area of Camp Skull Valley, when her squadron was caught by the Sahagin, and were offered to Leviathan for new thralls. Wint was somehow the only one to survive with no explanation as to why, just a lot of bad memories and a ton of questions. She is finally rescued by a second squadron and she has an arduous recovery ahead of her.

Fastforward to post A Realm Reborn, little lord Alphinaud has a new goal, and he needs members to fill the ranks. Wint gets wind of it and requests to be transferred from the Maelstrom to the Crystal Braves, where she meets the Warrior of Light themselves, and comes to learn of the echo and has many a question to ask. Ultimately she becomes reassured that her Leviathan incident was out of her hands, but also that she was not alone in experiences like this; WoL themselves had a similar incident happen to them with the Amalj'aa and Ifrit.

The Crystal Braves fall apart as they do, but like Riol, she sticks around as they are a good bunch, and she and WoL have a lot in common and a lot she still has to learn about herself; answers she will be more likely to learn with the Scions over staying with the Maelstrom.

Wint Fun Facts:

She has a scar on her forehead, many variations of tales have been told about how she received said scar, including fighting a pack of ravenous wolves, in reality she injured herself falling out of a tree as a kid.

Is fluent in the Old Roegadyn language, as Sylb taught her it because it was something she believed her dad would have wanted for her, to learn about and potentially visit his home one day.

Wint's story continues along side WoL and the Scions. Unlike Theia, her story remains just about the same - irrelevant of who is Main WoL, keeper of the Azem Stone.

#wintgeim slafzedyrwyn #wint #WoL #warrior of light #ff14 #ffxiv #final fantasy 14 #final fantasy xiv #i have so much story and lore on wint #shes my main i love her so much #femroe #roegadyn #female roegadyn #roegadame #sea wolf

[onwesterlywinds]

PROMPT #21: Grave

About a year ago, one of the younger and more gregarious Heart-Seers had recognized the irony of her discomfort with this long forestalled moment: "silly" was the word they had used to question that her role as presider over the catacombs did not better inure her to this particular grief.

She had risen early in the hopes of meeting no one else along the road and had pondered for most of the journey how she would recognize a landmark she had seen only a handful of times before in passing, as he had not wielded the blade until his time with the Crystal Braves. Even so, Ashe recognized it from yalms off, and a sob made to tear its way through her chest at the first sight of it. She had seen it in the Lifestream, after all; it had held off the swipes and scrapes of half a dozen specters, Ala Mhigan all but unknown to her in their grief, who had hurled insults and accusations amid their attempts at dragging her down to their frigid depths. Pretender. Power-needy. Pathetic.

And Bertliana had laid a bouquet, no more than a day old, at the spot where cold steel met with hard earth.

"I'm so sorry," Ashe whispered as she made her approach, passing countless other memorials to the long-lost dead in those last few steps. "I'm so sorry it's taken me until now to visit. You dear, sweet boy."

Spoken aloud, the words felt as empty as her prayers to the Rhalgr stone in the cesspit where they had grown up, before she had stopped praying for the purpose of being seen. She should have said them while in the Aitiascope; instead she had merely stood there with his killer at her back, while his soul poured forth his blessings and his sorrow and his final words over and over again: Captain… why?

And as always, the mission had taken priority. She had allowed him to hold off the other dead while she and her party had pressed onward.

Already her tears flowed freely at the remembrance of it, though nothing she might have accomplished in the aetherial sea would have brought him back. "If I had done right by you, perhaps-"

But that was too vain a thought to bring into being, especially for one as strong-willed as him.

"It was Ludo. Ludo told me I should have invited you to join the Riskbreakers on the day of the Amalj'aa raid, and he was right. I was scared of putting more pressure on you, of driving you further toward vengeance-" Through my example. "-but he was right, gods damn him!"

It had been the first real fight she and Ludo had ever had - the moment she should have suspected there was something irreconcilable between them for how quickly they had put themselves at odds. Even now the sound of slammed inn room doors echoed somewhere through that memory.

A bitter wind rose from the mountains, and there was no comfort in it - no sign that he or anyone else was listening.

"You would have been the best of us all," she said. "And I am tired of comforting myself by saying that we are building an Ala Mhigo you would be proud of, because no matter what we do, it would be made far better by you being here." The thought came to her every time she watched Arenvald and Bertliana laugh together, every time she thought of Gundobald and his letters.

A bhoot howled not so far away. Drenched in morning sunlight and warded by the Lily Sigil, she had precious little to fear, and yet the hollowness of the sound dragged her from her memories back to the barren gravesite.

"I'm so tired, Wilred." Her sobs had given way to a familiar sort of emptiness. "And I'm trying to see that for the blessing it is."

Ashelia Riot knelt before his sword at long last, and spoke the words that frightened her most of all.

"We will meet again, dove. I can only hope we're worthy enough to find ourselves here when we do."

#FFXIVWrite #FFXIVWrite 2023 #Ashelia Riot #DAMN. THIS SHIT HURTED.

[peeporoons-notes]

back —— next [power] [glory] [fortune] [...]

MSQ 0.1 [Tutorial, Ul'dah]

Grizzled Passenger "Y'all right, [lad/lass]? You were moanin' somethin' fierce for a while there. Feelin' the effects of the aether, I reckon. You'll get used to it, though, don't worry."

* Your cart trundles across the arid shrubland. The midday heat seeps insistently through the canvas stretching over your heads, but you can be grateful you're not in the sun with the chocobos. * You both turn as you hear more sets of chocobo footfalls, far outpacing the birds drawing your cart. As their riders catch up and flank you, a third rider blocks your path from the front. He shouts at the driver.

Brass Blade Captain "You there—halt!"

Carriage Driver "What's all this about!?"

* The man raises his scimitar at the driver.

Brass Blade Captain "Inspection! Men, search the carriage!"

* Your carriage stops, and the Brass Blades come around the back. The Grizzled Passenger just smiles calmly.

Grizzled Passenger "I'm just an honest peddler, friend. So, er...don't be too disappointed if you don't find nothin' eh?"

Brass Blade "Mind your tongue, old man, lest I cut it out!"

* The man produces a small drawstring bag from behind his back, not bothering to pretend to plant it. Actually, he doesn't even open it to look inside.

Brass Blade "Sir, look! Somnus!"

Brass Blade Captain "Honest peddler, was it? Since when do honest peddlers deal in prohibited herbs? You're in a lot of trouble, old man." He smirks. "You'll rot in a dungeon till the end of your days...unless you can afford the fine."

* The passenger shakes his head disappointedly, sharing a look with you.

Grizzled Passenger "Heh, business as usual..."

* An arrow flies through the window and lands hard in the floor, kicking up some of the fine layer of sandy dust that coats everything here.

Grizzled Passenger "Uwaaah!"

Brass Blade Captain "Amalj'aa! Amalj'aa! To arms! To arms!"

* The lizard-men approach, the one with the bow already nocking another arrow.

Brass Blade Captain "Seven hells... Consider this a warning! Now go—all of you!"

* The Brass Blades skirmish with the Amalj'aa in the wake of your cart.

Grizzled Passenger "Phew... That kind of excitement ain't good for the heart. You be careful 'round them Brass Blades, lad. Bastards'll have the shirt off your back if they fancy it. Like common bandits, they are, only less honest.

Thank the gods for sendin' some beastmen to the rescue, eh!? Hey, seein' as we've still got a long ride ahead, you mind keepin' me company till we arrive?

Them young'uns don't care much for conversation, see."

* He gestures over to the two other passengers who have been here the whole time. They're completely silent, and the one on the right maybe even sleeping. Sometimes heat like this makes you sleepy too.

Brendt (Grizzled Passenger) "Brendt's the name, an' peddlin's me trade. An' judgin' by your unusual garments, I'll wager you're one of them new adventurers."

* You nod.

Brendt "I knew it! Goin' wherever the wind blows, seekin' fortune an' glory—now that's what I call livin'!

So long as you can avoid dyin', I mean. Ain't no secret that adventurin's a risky business—these days especially. What was it that first attracted you to it?"

Why did you become an adventurer? 1. To gain power. 2. To win glory. 3. To amass a fortune. 4. ...

#FFXIV: A Text Archive #ata/ARR #ata/cutscene #ata/MSQ #ata/grizzled passenger #ata/ul'dah starting cutscene #ata/ul'dah start

[sunbeat-coeurl]

Prompt #6: Avatar

It was late. The sky was clear and seemed to stretch on forever. The desert insects sang their songs, and C'zahra lay amongst blankets and leathers in a tent that was not her own. She smiled and rolled over, pressing a hand to the bare chest of the man next to her. She pressed her forehead to the side of his head and exhaled content.

Moments ticked by, a small frown drew downward at the corners of her mouth before she spoke. "Would you tell me again about the Amalj'aa's fire lord?" The topic seemed to come out of nowhere.

He rolled his head to lean more heavily against hers and shifted his gaze to look at her. "Are you sure that's what you want to talk about?" There was a tired indifference in his voice that hadn't been present earlier in the evening.

His aversion to the topic hadn't gone unnoticed. "I've just been having some interesting dreams," She tried to explain but sounded as if she was questioning herself. "I think it could help." She shifted again to rest her temple against his own.

The male rolled to his side to face her. "You should speak to the elder medicine woman."

"I know. I will. I just- I think there's something- could you remind me? Please." She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to his but still frowned with how it weighed on her mind.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. He savored their soft, quiet moment together before he delved into his memories. "I was a soldier in a vanguard of a hundred or more people. When the Amalj'aa summoned Ifrit, we were charged to deal with the Primal." He stared off as he recounted the tale, over her shoulder at one of the dark corners of the tent. "The only way to deal with a Primal is to send groups of soldiers to fight in waves. Each group needs to do as much as they can before being tempered by the Primal and they turn on each other. Send wave after wave until the Primal, and the tempered, are dead."

C'zahra nodded sympathetically as he spoke but didn't interrupt. She looked into his far off eyes but focused on the tale he recounted.

"I drew one of the short straws and fell into the first wave of soldiers, the group least expected to have any survivors." His gaze moved to hers and lingered momentarily. He recounted arriving and preparing to engage. "...as we ran headlong into the Primal's lair it seemed he knew we were coming. We were met with an intense bellow, then he spewed a brilliant blue flame." The man absently shook his head as he spoke. "It licked and clawed its way through my contingency of soldiers and brought them to their knees in reverence." He stopped for a moment and shook his head.

"It didn't burn?" C'zahra interrupted his spiraling thoughts.

"No, no, it didn't feel like anything but a wind but then there was the howling that came after, the men's cries, all the blood..." He had started to continue but snapped his jaw shut mechanically. "I need to..." he had trailed off and pushed himself up. He had barely grabbed something to slip around himself before he'd pushed his way out of the tent. He needed air.

"Wait," C'zahra's cry had been too late or too softly to stop him. She scrambled to grab clothing of her own and ducked out into the night after him.

#C'zahra Sahdi #ffxivwrite2021 #ffxiv

[thevoilinauttheory]

Paper Heart

[ FFxivWrite2021 Prompt 19: Extra Credit ]

[ Content Warnings: accidental harm to a loved one ]

[ Maximiloix learning magic, something something title lol - Earth - Water - Fire - Lightning - Wind - Ice ]

==

Maximiloix had received the scolding of his life once Caromont was able to drag him to a safer location, the fires he had used to bring down the Amalj'aa structure were now in his husband’s voice. Had he been any less of a Spoken race, one might have seen those long ears droop with regret. After that, it was the silent treatment all the way back to Ul’dah - which was enough time for Caromont to calm down enough to apologize for the blow up, and then absolutely *stress* how important it was to… 1) control himself, which he already had a feeling wouldn’t be heard; and 2) not to enrage the native beastmen of each area… which he had successfully done so far.

Once some much needed rest was taken, it was back on the road towards Coerthas, with a stop in the Shroud. ...And once again, Caromont had to really drive home how important it was to *not* disrupt this part of Eorzea. The roads that they took through the woods were winding, with little tread on them, leaving much to be discovered by those brave enough to take a step off the path. Maximiloix *would* have been one of those people, if he didn’t have Caromont to keep him in line, having gotten distracted by every piece of new flora or ruins that just barely scraped the surface of the dirt.

“Alright, Maxie - we are stepping into Sylph territory. I have a feeling you will get along well with them, but please… be mindful? The Elementals will not tolerate what you have been doing thus far, and you have been acting recklessly in believing you are invincible.” “Ehh… wouldn’t say I *believe* I’m invincible. Only that I feel it.” “Still.” Caromont let out a soft sigh, scratching his neck. He was beginning to wonder if this path was the one he wished to lead him down - delving into magical realms. There wasn’t much he could do *now*, knowing how Maximiloix had already taken a liking to using it where he could; he’d likely just finish the rest on his own if he was denied. Though visions and readings of a future solidified by magic told him to continue, that it would be worth it. “Be respectful, please?” “Aye, aye, I will. Y’ve made it clear. Promise I won’t cause no trouble.” He hummed as he watched the leaves above them while they walked, flickering with the gentle breeze. “What element’s this one anyways? Seems like wind’s a fittin’ one.” “You would think, would you not? No, it is lightning here. The Sylph’s pray to their god, Ramuh. Hm… If you think back to when I was talking about the stars - do you remember?” “The constellations?” “Mhm. If the Balance were lightning aspected, that could be the closest representation to Ramuh. He is a being of judgment, and is not known to be unkind - but He will strike down those He finds unworthy. While I do not believe we will have the… ah, “pleasure” of meeting Him as we did with Leviathan, it is still a lesson to keep in mind. Do *not* present yourself as a threat… for the love of everything, do not.” “When have I ever!” Caromont stared at him for an uncomfortably long amount of time, causing him to shake his hands dismissively. “Alright, alright - don’t worry.”

They reached the deepest parts of the forest with little trouble, the Sylph’s all too glad to play pranks on the one susceptible to them - which had Maximiloix covered in dirt, leaves, and water before long. He flopped on the purple tinged grass, staring up at like colored leaves and twisting branches, lights of unknown plants illuminating the region’s unmarked areas. “Ooch… I know y’said I’d get a long with ‘em, but gods… think they coulda used less thorns?” Maximiloix pried burr from his arm and flicked it off to the side to prove his point. Caromont chuckled softly, sitting down beside his complaining husband to help take care of the rest of the burrs. “So what’s th��lightnin’ ‘bout?” “Lightning is an Astral element used mostly for harm - keeping your enemy at bay by halting their movements with electrical pulses. Or, if you are just learning, creating a minor inconvenience like that of a static shock.” He laughed. “It can be combined with the Fire and Ice elements to create powerful - and highly dangerous - spells. For me, it is a somewhat strange mystery that combining these elements together… negate having an aspect altogether. Regardless. If you cast a Thunder spell on an assailant, you may feel the jolt of electricity yourself - if you have your stave at the ready, you can then turn that aether back into another lightning aspected spell.” “Seems useful ‘nough, jus’ like th’others, honestly.”

Caromont stood back up after having inserted the small lightning crystal within Maximiloix’s lance, offering him a hand to stand as well as his weapon back. “And just to make certain that you do not cause any more trouble… your focus will be on me.” “Eh? I can’t attack ya’!” He only got a smile in response. “Do you not trust me? I am fully capable of taking care of myself.” “Mmhh…” Maximiloix groaned in disapproval, though still stanced himself for combat. Though when Caromont beckoned him to begin, he only let out a heavy sigh and hung his head. “Why do you hesitate, my sun and sky?” “What if I hurt ya’!” “Well, you certainly should not if you focus on a much smaller spell for once!” “What if y’don’t cast a shield in time, ‘r reflect it, ‘r dodge it, ‘r whatever!” “Then I will be twitchy for about a minute. *Assuming*--” “Yeah, yeah… stickin’ t’a smaller spell.” Caromont smiled, beckoning him again.

Maximiloix let out another sigh, taking his stance once again. He closed his eyes, feeling the static through the humidity of the deepwoods; it tingled in his arms, down to his fingertips - his hair truly stood on edge, every bit of it. He didn’t want to focus too much, to keep in mind what warnings he was given… but something about that feeling was hard to control, hard to say no to. A pull, a magnet to power. The shivers of shocks made their way down his legs, into his toes, grounded by the earth beneath him - it pulsed through his veins to the beat of the wind, and shot through his palm and lance almost unexpectedly. It was sudden, how fast the spell expelled itself from his body when the charge had hit its limit… and it certainly wasn’t as small as he wanted it to be, as small as he was focusing on it to be. He was thankful, at the very least, that Caromont had been watching the spell - and how much time it was taking to cast. It warned him to prepare for a burst of aether, to which he did. He threw out a shield of bright starlight, which fizzled away at the impact of the lightning; it absorbed the brunt of the force, leaving him on the ground with singed robes and hair - staring at the sky blankly.

“Caro!” Maximiloix tripped over his own feet to rush to his husband’s side, immediately looking for signs of life - he was given one when Caromont managed to cough a few times. “I said a *small* spell, Maxie.” “I- I tried! I swear! I dunno what happened, it was so fast--” “Calm down… I am fine. Ugh… you are lucky that I was able to see it happening. What… happened, exactly?” “I.. I dunno, I was jus’ focusin’ on somethin’ small - like what we did fer the earth spells. Then it jus’... kept growin’. I couldn’t pull m’hand away, it was stuck there until it couldn’t no more.” “I see… well, let us have you avoid lightning aspected spells until we figure out the machinations behind the outcome, alright?” “Y- Yeah… y’-” “I am fine, Maxie, I promise. Just a little burnt on the edges, but that is how you like your bread, is it not?” He laughed as he sat up, only earning a pout from Maximiloix. “Caro. That ain’t funny.”

#ffxivwr #prompt 19 #extra credit #about: Maximiloix Voilinaut #about: Caromont Allard #the cold truth #reading the stars #the fire in the stars #:)c #i like tying in past things to future things lol

[enzelffxiv]

(part 1|2|3|4|5)

He came to with cold stone at his back. Everything ached, but distantly, as if he’d been in a fight a few days before and it was just catching up to him.

There was another figure sprawled at his feet, though it took them a moment to register who. Imry, in unfamiliar armor–it had been enameled in white once but bore too many scratches and scars now. He recognized the battered round shield she always insisted on carrying, but the sword he’d never seen before. It was small, and quite frankly, entirely unremarkable.

After a moment she stirred, as if waking up from a long sleep, though the place they lay was hardly appropriate for for a nap.

“Are you all right?” he found himself saying. “I’ve been waiting for you to open your eyes.”

-

The next time they saw her, she seemed diminished. Not physically, but in presence. There were dark circles under her eyes, as if she hadn’t been sleeping well. She carried their sword across her back now, but she had insisted on keeping the shield…

“I don’t understand,” Imry was saying, lifting a hand to pinch the wide bridge of her nose. “You want me to fight these beasts, but–have they attacked someone? Can they be eaten?”

“I need to be able to gauge your strength.”

“If that’s all it is, let’s go see Haurchefant. I bet he would spar with me again–”

“Imry,” they said impatiently, “a real fight. With real stakes.”

“Why haven’t we asked the locals, then? Maybe there’s something I can do for–”

They interrupted her. “Do you do this wherever you go? Looking for grunt work like a common sellsword? Your skills demand more than that.”

Her brow furrowed in bewilderment. They sighed. “Never mind. If you insist. If we’re lucky, perhaps they’re being terrorized by some overgrown monster.”

“That wouldn’t be lucky…” The confusion was evident in her voice. “It means people are getting hurt.”

“Yes, yes, and you’d be able to save them. That’s what a champion of the weak does, isn’t it?”

Imry looked uncertain. “Of course,” she replied after a moment, without much conviction.

-

She had new armor, finally. The Lord of House Fortemps had gifted it to her for her service. But she stubbornly refused to give up her shield. It looked even smaller and shabbier now against the shine of new-forged metal.

“Treating with the heretics? Are you all mad?”

“It’ll probably be a long journey,” she said. She had her back to them, busying herself with her chocobo’s tack. The normally placid, easygoing beast was shifting and whistling anxiously. Imry patted the side of her neck. “It’s all right, girl. We’ll get you something warm to wear–”

“And whose godsforsakenly foolish idea was that–”

“Mine,” she said firmly. “And Alphinaud’s.”

“The war in Ishgard has raged on for a thousand years. You don’t think people have have tried to end it before, and failed?”

“If we don’t try, more people will die. I have to do what I can.”

“This isn’t even your homeland!”

She turned to face them again, and her eyes were bright and full of worry. Infuriating. “It’s yours, though. Isn’t it?”

They didn’t know what to say.

-

“You smell like blood.”

Imry looked at them wearily. “Estinien got the worst of it…I think his armor may be ruined.”

“If you didn’t look fit to keel over at any moment, I’d say this were the perfect time…” Communion required a sacrifice, after all.

“You always have such strange…” she took a moment to find the word. “Priorities.”

“Ah, you’re right. I should be congratulating you on your victory. And I do mean that–”

“I just came to tell you the news. Because it’s been so long.”

“Imry, every citizen has been shouting of Nidhogg’s demise from the rooftops. You don’t think I would have heard?”

Imry was silent for a moment, seated on the steps, hands folded over the helm in her lap. Her hair had matted from being underneath it so long, her lips cracked from the cold.

“I wanted to tell you myself,” she said finally. “The truth. About Ishgard.”

They were silent as she recounted the tale. Despite the horror of the revelation, deep down, they knew–it was a familiar one. A tale that repeated itself through the ages, in ways both large and small. Greed, violence, retribution. Once the cycle began, it often didn’t end until everyone involved was dead. And dragons had much longer memories than man…

There was quiet for a long time after Imry finished speaking. Finally, she looked up at the overcast sky.

“Do you think things can finally change now?”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” they said scathingly. “You really believe the clergy, the nobles, would ever admit to such a truth? They’d rather sit on their power and keep sending the lowborn off to war.”

“But why would they give up the chance for peace?”

That was just it, wasn’t it. Why, indeed? Why was she so simple?

“I envy the world you live in,” they said coldly.

“It’s the same as yours,” she said, not understanding the idiom, as usual.

“Come see me again in a day. That should be enough. Now go back to your friends.”

-

She didn’t return for a week and a half. When she did, it was out of full armor; she wore a chain shirt under her heavy coat, and her hair was down in two long braids. She smelled of the reagents they used to clean bandages in the infirmary.

She sat down where she had the last time, and said nothing for a long while. For once, they broke the silence.

“It’s been some time.”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was…frighteningly subdued. “I don’t know where to begin.”

“You, at a loss for words? I’m shocked.”

“I didn’t want to leave Akiv'a. He hasn’t been himself since–” A deep breath. “Since what happened in the Vault.” Her gloved fingers curled slightly in her lap.

And what about you?

“I hear you two are inseparable.”

“He’s my best friend,” she said, fiercely. “We always have each other’s backs. That’s why–”

Why does it hurt? What have you given up?

“I need to be stronger.”

Neither of them knew which one had spoken aloud.

-

You understand now, don’t you? You and I…we’re the same.

Imry–

You called out to me. You pulled me from the darkness. This was your will…and now I’ve decided.

Everything you’ve done was for others. For the nations, the people. For Eorzea. And what happened? They turned on you. Betrayed you. You owe them nothing.

But I know you. 

I am you. 

You can’t refuse them. You can’t turn your back on them. The moment someone cries out in pain or distress, you’ll be there to help them. Ever the hero.

Someday it’s going to kill you. And I can’t let that happen.

You wanted strength. I have it. I’m stronger than you now, so–

I’ll protect you this time. You don’t have to do a thing.

-

“You have to give her back.”

Akiv'a looked even smaller than usual, somehow. Ears laid back nearly flat against his skull, brow furrowed, the tip of his tail lashing anxiously. His one hand curled into a fist so tight the claws dug into his palm. 

“She hasn’t gone anywhere.” Confusion tinged their voice–was he afraid? Why? “She’s safe now.”

“Let me talk to her.” He was trying to keep his voice steady. "If she's there, then--"

“I can’t.” Why didn’t he understand? It was for her own good.

“Safe doesnt matter if she can’t see, hear, feel anything–”

"There wasn't any other choice." Why didn’t he understand? “The world is hard–and she couldn’t handle it on her own. She chose this.”

“She wouldn't--that can't be...she wouldn't just give up!" He shook his head, looking away.

Why does it hurt?

"You think I'm lying?" Their voice wavered. Strange. Akiv'a's eyes flashed as he looked them over again, but the anger faded quickly to something else. An ache.

This feeling...is the same. It's loneliness. Longing.

"You won't accept me in place of her."

"No one's going to replace her! Not whatever you are, not--I don't care what you do, just give her back! Give her back..."

He took a step forward, and they could feel the aether gathering around him.

Of course. A shade was no substitute. But it didn't matter. Whatever it took to protect her--yes, even if he hated them.

"She lost to me because she was weaker. That's why..."

Aether flared. A flame burst to life over Akiv’a’s right shoulder, the egi uncurling in one smooth motion.

Fragment of Ifrit. The flames were so familiar. They remembered the anger, the horror, the heat on their face, the taste of ash on their tongue. Searing pain on the left side of their face. The gritty haft of a spear stolen from an Amalj'aa clutched in their bare hands.

One of her memories.

He’d summoned the creature without an incantation or even even a gesture. It was pure instinct.

"Imry isn't weak," he forced through gritted teeth. "If you've done something to her, then--"

They drew their sword with a bitter laugh. No shield, just nearly two yalms of steel. "There's nothing you can do."

The groaning of earth and stone, the sharp shriek of the wind–two more glowing forms joined the first. Akiv'a cast his arm wide, fingers curled.

"Try me."

-

They lay on their back in the snow.

If any of them really cared for her–

A voice, calling.

I’m sorry. I failed you. I couldn’t be what you needed.

“That’s all right,” Imry said. She sat with her knees up, arms folded atop them. She was looking into the distance. They could hear the sound of waves. 

“I’m the one who should be apologizing. I thought maybe–maybe…”

She put her head down.

“I was just running away. I thought I was sparing them. Everything was so hard already…I didn’t want anyone to see me falter.”

They should have protected you! They should have done better!

She shook her head. "I’ll–…I’ll go back now. I don’t want to worry anyone any longer. You can rest.”

Silence.

She looked up at them, eyes wide. “You’re not going to disappear, are you?“

Of course not. You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.

-

Pain was familiar, even if the rest of it was not.

They looked over their hands, then up into Imry’s anxious face, leaning over them.

"Did it–it worked!” Her voice wavered, and they realized after a moment that she looked strangely pale. Ashen. “Are you all right? How do you feel…?”

“What did you…you idiot, what did you do–” Instinctively they grabbed for her shoulder as she swayed, then sat down next to them abruptly. Sweat stood out on her forehead, and her breathing was fast and shallow.

“I-I’m all…I just need to sit for a moment. That’s all.” She reached up to rub her face with one arm, and a glint of light caught their eye; held in her other trembling hand, two crystals. The smaller one a deep, deep red, surface carved with a familiar symbol. The other they had never seen before, but knew immediately what it was.

Her Crystal of Light.

“What did you do.”

“I…I didn’t want you to be lonely anymore. It’s my fault–for making you…because I was–because I couldn't accept what was right in front of me...” Her fingers curled around the crystals, and she clutched them to her chest, over her heart. They could feel her heartbeat, faint and frantic. And something else–a clawing ache deep in their own chest. A gaping emptiness.

“No.”

They grabbed her by both shoulders, and she looked startled, but didn’t protest.

“You–you absolute–…” At a loss, they gave up and simply stared at her.

Imry smiled weakly. “I-I’m sure it’ll take getting used to, but…this way, we can both be here…”

"I don't want to get used to it!" The words came hastily, panicked. Imry's eyes widened. "It hurts--I don't want to be separate from you!"

"You were--hurting even when we were together. I could feel it..." Imry looked like she might cry. Somehow, that made them angrier. They pushed her away, and she nearly fell, catching herself with her free hand.

"You idiot," they hissed. "Look what you've done to yourself--you could have killed yourself! You can't just use aether like that!"

"I did," she said quietly, stubbornly, no longer looking at them.

"Reverse it," they demanded. When she didn't respond, they held out a hand, palm facing her. "Take it back." 

Imry shook her head.

#enzel writes stuff #is 'they' plural or singular? yes. #also i imagine that like horses #chocobos really don't like supernatural bullshit lmao #drk quest spoilers #heavensward spoilers #fixed the formatting on the other installments and made some minor edits #this still doesn't have a title

[culturalmishap]

"Close your eyes, Adede. May the Twelve have mercy on us."

Five years had gone by since the red moon crashed into Eorzea. Five years had gone by since rivers of blood washed the grounds at Carteneau. Five years had gone by and the people had rebuilt. Those who wandered the city states looked up in awe as banners bearing the symbol of a meteor were unfurled from the ledges of buildings and blue and gold decorated the streets. In Ul'dah a great stage was erected at the intersection of the Ruby Road Exchange and Emerald Avenue. A crowd swarmed around it as performers took their places and began their dramatic recounting of the Calamity that snuffed out the young life of the Seventh Umbral Era.

Standing back from the crowd watching the hubbub was a tiny Lalafell. From a higher perch on the steps that led towards the side entrance of the Quicksand she took in the sights and sounds of the event. While the actors gave their show, others chatted among themselves, sharing their own stories and memories of that dreaded day. Some boasted about how they braved the fields of war. Some shivered as they described the monsters that had wandered the lands, empowered by the proximity of the red moon.

Hearing their stories made Adede's mind drift back to those days, so many years ago when she was only in her mid teens. She and her parents, Cocoade Totoade and Mayaya Maya, resided in a village in Eastern Thanalan, near Thal's Respite and the border to the Black Shroud. Many of the inhabitants of the village filled their purses with coin earned by farming, fishing, and other labors. It was a peaceful area with cool forests to the north and long winding pathways that led to the jewel of the Thanalan desert, Ul'dah, to the southwest. Ul’dah’s tall, pointed spires rose high enough in the distance that even from their home Adede and her parents could see the beautiful city-state that they frequently traveled to.

The peace the village felt slowly ebbed away as a bright red dot appeared in the sky. Some believed it to be a new star, others a natural phenomenon. They continued on with their lives, toiling each day in and out. But that red dot grew larger as it descended closer. Along with this celestial body looming over them, the threat of the Garlean Imperials increased. Every now and again one of their airships hovered across the skies. One farmer, upon seeing three great vessels fly overhead, spat on the ground in annoyance and dug his plow into the dirt with a vulgar word hissing across his lips.

The next day that farmer would have something to truly curse about. The creatures of the land had been manageable. Every now and again Adede's parents would withdraw their staves and go to work laying low the pests and beasts that trampled the fields or chased the workers. It was all in a day’s work. But the frequency of their attacks increased as the moon grew closer. Larger monsters made their way into the village and on that particular day, a pack of huge Ziz came barreling through. The mouthy farmer had been digging up a crop of onion and noticed too late as one of the great creatures brought its beak down into the soft skin of his shoulder.

Adede had been sitting on the steps to her family's house, polishing some stones alongside her mother as her father stood smoking a long pipe and watching Dalamud. All three of them turned their heads as the farmer let out a petrified shriek before being destroyed by the Ziz. Adede's mother quickly clapped her hand over her daughter's eyes, trying to shield her from having her mind branded with the horrid sight they and the other villagers were all witnessing. It had only been a split second but Adede would never forget the memory as blood splashed from the farmer onto the Ziz's feathers and the huff the great bird made as it drew its heads back to strike again. Cocoade immediately dropped his pipe and withdrew his staff, running quickly towards the farmer's field to slay the beast and the pack it had come from. Adede was whisked inside by her mother and told to remain there until things were clear. Her mother retrieved her own staff and joined the fight alongside her husband.

Attacks like those became more and more frequent. The farmers and fishers soon had to abandon their work for fear of losing their lives. Many remained indoors, many also fled. Mayaya and Cocoade joined forces with the others that were able to wield weapons in frequent defense of the village. Even the nearby Amalj'aa fought alongside them from time to time, the beastmen falling victim to the attacks of monsters too. Adede wished she could help but had only just begun her studies in Thaumaturgy and knew very little of combat. She would have to remain inside like the others.

In hushed conversations at night Mayaya and Cocoade would discuss if they should remain in their village and hold their ground or if they ought to risk the journey into Ul'dah where the tall walls and armed forces could better protect them. Adede would lie in bed and listen to them and tense every time she heard the cry of both monsters and their victims in the distance. In the morning a decision had been reached and their necessities were packed.

The chocobo porter that arrived to collect them had retrieved many others who were fleeing to Ul'dah for sanctuary. The driver looked about nervously as he waited for them to climb in. He muttered that the Imperials had been seen encroaching ever closer to the city and they would need to hurry if they wanted to avoid being stopped and... who could really know what else would happen to them if that were to happen.

The ride was quiet and tense. As they pulled past Camp Drybone a strange creature Adede had never seen before hovered above an aetheryte that glowed a sickly orange. The cart slowed as the driver rubbernecked past the queer view. Suddenly, the creature moaned and spat out other bizarre creatures. Cocoade immediately straightened in his seat, laying his hand on his staff.

"Voidsent," he whispered.

Once the driver realized what he was seeing he snapped the reigns to his chocobo, urging them to hurry on. The birds made no protest, their own instincts alerting them that the things that had come from the gaping maw of the monster above the aetheryte were deadly. Many of the passengers remained on the alert as they continued their journey. Once the gates of Ul'dah were visible, Adede's mother craned her neck and furrowed her brows.

"Are those... goobbue?" a passenger asked.

"Are they attacking the city?"

"I think I see people riding them."

The wall of goobbues parted once the porter drew close. The passengers quickly filed out and made their way through the tunnels and into the city. Adede took a brief moment to look up at the darkened sky at the huge red moon and the lightning that crackled through the air. Mayaya tugged at her hand and they hurriedly went to the Hourglass Inn and booked one of their last rooms.

Her father breathed a sigh of relief as he pulled the hood of his cowl from off his head, "I'll go get us something to eat and bring it back. You both stay here."

"Are you going to check on the boys as well?" Mayaya replied as she dropped the bag she was carrying onto the small table. She was referring to Cocoade's nephews, five boys that had been studying at the Ossuary. They had received no word from them in the last week and concerns were mounting.

Cocoade nodded. He was so serious. Adede had only ever known him as being carefree and boisterous during her life. Seeing him the way he was now only solidified the severity of the present situation in her mind.

"Be careful, Dad," she urged him.

He smiled his signature grin and put his hands on his hips, "Don't worry, Adede. Your mother is scarier than those creatures. Those nasties are no match for me."

Mayaya rolled her eyes but made no quip in response. She was worried about splitting ways even for a brief amount of time. Right now there was no telling what could occur, even within the walls.

Mother and daughter waited, apprehensive. Thunder rumbled and the sky continued to take on poisonous red glow as Dalamud continued its descent. For a split second their eyes met and Adede could see the fear in her mother's eyes, Mayaya making a pitiful attempt at covering it up with a smile. They were still in danger and Adede could sense it even if her mother said nothing. The dread in the air was palpable. 

"Mom," she began, hands trembling and voice shaking, "...Are we going to d--"

Before she could finish her question screams began to echo from the streets. Cautiously, Mayaya and Adede approached the window of the room and gazed down at the chaos below their inn room. Beasts had invaded the city and among them were huge chimera, tails whipping through the air and ferocious howls bellowing from their throats. Their eyes were locked on the scene. Adventurers, Brass Blades, and members of the Immortal Flames launched attacks on the creatures, trying to drive them back but only carnage ensued. For each beast slain it seemed ten or twenty men and women fell alongside it.

Mayaya began to pace the floor and held her staff in her hand. Adede turned to watch her only when she felt she might begin crying in terror of the monsters that rampaged outside. Her mother wanted to run out to find her husband. Was he one of the many that were being slaughtered in the streets? But how could she leave her daughter alone and helpless.

She was unable to make the decision before the door to the room swung open with a bang. There stood Cocoade, breathing heavy and sweat dripping from his forehead. He had run all the way back when he realized what was happening within the city. He quickly shut the door and locked it.

"They're everywhere... The voidsent and the Imperials."

There would be no sleeping that evening. Commotion from the streets and the steady rumble of the ground signaled impending destruction. It was when the noises ended and an eerie silence filled the air that Mayaya pulled her daughter close to her, wrapping a protective arm around her. She could sense it. Cocoade slid in beside them, joining in the defensive embrace. He could sense it too. The family of three stared from across the room at the window.

With a deafening crack, the walls shook and light burst across the sky. They all jumped in surprise. Adede's eyes widened as streaks of fire flew past the window, shaking the building as they made impact. Shouts and screams filled the air once more and Adede clutched her mother's hand. Her shoulder shook as she shivered in fear.

"Close your eyes, Adede," Mayaya breathed, "May the Twelve have mercy on us."

Adede pinched her eyes shut and waited for the end.

It was a terrifying memory but looking around at Ul'dah now, it would be hard to convince anyone that hadn't lived through the Calamity what this place and her people had endured. Her family had survived. Much of their village had been demolished with the upheaval of land during the aetherial imbalance caused by Dalamud’s impact. Huge branches of crystal had stretched out from the ground at the Burning Wall completely changing the horizon line.

Over the next year and a half they joined the rebuilding efforts for both their village and back within Ul'dah. As miserable as the circumstances were, Mayaya's business as a goldsmith prospered to new heights as people sought new furnishings and decorations for their homes. Life settled and they all found a new sense of "everyday" in the aftermath of the Calamity.

"Miss? Are you alright?"

Adede turned to look at who was speaking to her. It was a Hyur child, only an ilm or two taller than she, a girl perhaps five summers old at most. Innocence sparkled in the child's eyes and her hand held her father's fingers.

Adede smiled and nodded, "I'm just remembering, but I'm alright. Thank you."

The little girl tipped her head to the side but then turned to continue watching the show. Adede smiled to herself. There was no way that little girl had been alive during the Calamity. She had not had to experience those dreadful days and Adede wondered what it must be like to participate in a day of remembernace when you had no memories of the events themselves.

When the lalafell looked away from the child she felt herself make a tiny plea to the Twelve in her heart:

‘May that little girl only ever wonder what the Calamity was like and never see one firsthand. Please, let there be peace.’

#ffxiv #ff14 #Final Fantasy #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #writing #sketch #calamity #dalamud #drabble #Got inspired by The Rising event #didn't expect to write so much.... #adede ade

[old-souldier]

#17: Without a Trace

One of these days, it will be early Spring, when the mornings are still chilly, especially by the Salt Strand the looming tower of Oschon's torch, but the incoming sun, fresh from it's stopover toasting Thanalan, emerges and its heat and light warm your skin, nestled under well-worn wool sweater as you watch the tide come in and think of the schools of Silver Sovereign swimming under your feet.

One of these days, sugar will taste sweet again and the wheat will soften. The first blossoms on trees: magnolia, dogwood, cherry will seem bright and their color vivid as they were decades ago. The grass, having slumbered from a long winter, will grow again and in places will reach high enough to come up to a Midlander man's waist.  

One of these days, the market stalls in Hawker's Alley and Sapphire Avenue and the Shaded Bower and the Jeweled Crozier will open to many many expectant peoples from all over: travelers and dignitaries, housewives and children, lovers looking for anniversary presents, young ne'er-do-wells and old geezers, the rich and the poor and those who simply walk as part of the circulatory system of Spoken peoples. Hyur, Elezen, Miqo'te, Roegadyn, Lalafell, yes, but also Goblin, Qiqirn, Amalj'aa, Ixali, Kobold, Sahagin, Dravanian, Vath, and Vanu Vanu. All the Spoken races from all of Hydaelyn travel freely as they can and they are welcome in every city and there is strife, true and there are always those who seeks to steal, cheat, and swindle their way through life. Ul'dah will still exist one of these days, after all. But the held breaths and bullying authorities that fear the other is gone.

One of these days, the children of Eorzea, the children of Doma, the children of Ilsabard will grow up and not know a world of war, not know what it is like to see friends, family, lovers, and comrades die because a select few had notions of conquest and civilization and empire. They will not live with the fear that they, too, may have to kill those from other lands even if they are merely so many cog teeth in an interminable, precise, deadly, ugly, ravenous machine of Imperialism. Children will grow up in that world and their children will read about the world before "one of these days", shake their heads and laugh at how stupid we were, how stupid we were for tearing down and destroying and despoiling that which we had. They will not understand the world at war. There will be peace. And the waters lapping at the shores of the Salt Strand will be calm, the Silver Sovereign ripe for fishing.

On one of those days, an old Lalafellin crone will alight from Candlekeep Quay, in a dinghy with no food, a cask of whiskey and too, too many memories and sail on westerly winds, leaving nothing behind but the fading memory of a crueler, more execrable world.

#FFxivWrite2018 #without a trace #Jordan Kennedy

[smolcatte]

All or Nothing

Pheli stared, stunned at the letter Shinji had left her after blindly stumbling into the house, hearing the tribe linkpearl pop and crack, signalling it had been destroyed. The words registered in her mind, her blood running cold and all motion ceasing.

"Sithy, You and S'zo are my world. It hurt to say those words and hurt you but I needed you mad ...at me. If you read this before the curse overtakes me know that you two are my heart and always were. It won't be long now until the blackness takes this heart and turns it as the darkest night, killing me I assume. Know it was never your fault, it was only me. I've tried to find a way to stop the curse but it continues to spread. So with you two pushed safely away I go back to the Steppes to dig my own grave and lie with my people. I've failed at everything, The twins, Calar, and keeping you happy. Please forgive me."

She tore through the house, crying out S'zo's name. Running to the front gate, she noted with horror that the redhead's bow was gone. Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach. "No.... no no no no nononononononononono...!!" the words mashed together, seeming to echo and reverberate in her head. She'd only been gone a day.. she needed to find them!

She grit her teeth, wobbling into the house to change quickly. Robe, hood, and her staff, the forbidden item that showed her true power. She didn't care at this moment. She needed to try. She was beyond reason, beyond sanity. She called forth her warhorse, the pair rushing through the forests of the shroud to the arid deserts of Thanalan, to Thal's Respite.

She stormed through the tunnel like a woman posessed, her aether rolling and billowing in waves of infernous heat around her small body, dropping to her knees before the altar of Thal. Her voice carried up, frantic and pleading.

"THAL!" she screamed out, her voice cracking and rasping. "PLEASE! You'd made a pact with me once before! Please, PLEASE! RETURN MY FAMILY TO ME! I NEED THEM! I CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT THEM!"

Only silence greeted her. She'd gotten her answer.

She stayed knelt at the altar, staring up at the monument of the deity she'd known all her life.

"Please.." she whispered, though she knew it was fruitless. "P..le..ase.."

The silence regarded her, the only stirring of life was the winds of the desert echoing in the cavern. She stood, turning to leave. She walked out to the hills near the Respite, her horse watching her steps but never leaving its post.

She walked past the hills, past the Amalj'aa encampments, to the hot, stifling heat of Southern Thanalan to be lost in the scorching sands.

Little did she know, a familiar hawk had been watching until it lost sight of her behind the dunes, circling a moment before flying back to where its owner lived; a small yurt, hidden in the Shroud.

Mentions: @shinji-calar, @szoharpetih

#the moon and the dragon #pheli calar #the calar saga #ffxiv #s'zo calar #shinji calar #the fire rises #to be continued

[worrentigre]

Mastering Myself (RP Scene)

Upon his visit to the formal Astral Agent’s property to discuss business, Worren Tigre has suddenly fallen ill.  Syelira has remained by his side since finding out the news, and others begin to show up after receiving a letter Worren sent out several days prior.  It seems he knew this day was coming and had a contingency plan.

((https://youtu.be/rQVRaHRLB5c <---Scene BGM))

The pain in Worren's head starts to subside.  However, he seems to be in some unfamiliar area. He looks around and is surrounded in total darkness, except the area immediately around him, which is illuminated with a faint light who's source is unknown. "Hmhmhm... well, well, well.  Here we are. It's time, Captain Linh.  Time for one last dance." He easily recognize the voice, and now knows exactly where he is. However, he is especially surprised when the owner of the voice makes itself known by calmly walking from the shadows.  It has the voice of Worren's lifelong adversary, but it looks just like him cloaked in darkness.  A shadowy reflection of himself.  "Surprised?  You shouldn't be.  I've been talking to you this whole time." The figure raises it's right hand and examines it while moving and flexing the fingers.  "I must say, I truly enjoy this form a lot more.  I can see why you've been able to easily best my fighters in the past.  This form is a lot more agile."

Worren grunts out, "Why are you still here?  To further try and torment me?"  The shadowy figure laughs. "Of course!  It's like I told you back in Zan'rak.  No matter who dies, you just need to suffer.  It looks like neither of us are dead, and you are suffering.  It's a win/win if I do say so, myself.  Though, times are changing..." Worren stands stiff, fists balling and eyes narrowing while the shadow continues speaking.  "You see, spending this intimate time with you has opened my eyes to many different things.  I am experiencing new pleasures I've not had in a very long time."  He gets into Worren's boxing stance and throws a few punches.  "I see what you see.  Feel what you feel... almost.  I almost know what it's like to move in this body, to feel with soft skin instead of numb, hard scales.  To move fluidly, and feel the vibrations of someone's bones as they break in my hands.  I want that feeling. That Amalj'aa body was inadequate for this, and I thank you for introducing me to these new feelings.  This is the body I now crave.  You understand, don't you?  After all, you too disliked your old body, and greatly enjoy this."

Worren's eyes widen in realization, then frowns.  "No way.  Not gonna happen.  I'm going to purge you from my mind and get rid of you for good."  The spirit of Arajj Goh laughs again.  "Oh really?  Well, guess what?  You can't!  I am you, and you are me!  We are one in the same.  Listen to your friends.  Some of them have the right idea.  To purge me is to purge yourself, you need me.  Accept me."  His hands come down to his sides and he steps closer to Worren.  "You're tired.  Your mind is tired.  This I know... I've made sure of it.  Allow me to relieve you of your fatigue and let me take over for a while." Worren was indeed tired.  Me was mentally tired of it all.  He was ready to give up and give in.  How long has he worked and been promised peace of mind?  And yet, something always comes up to ruin that moment, bringing him back to the brink of depression.  There have been many times where he'd be fine with just going inert, leaving behind everything and starting over.  Until suddenly, a second light source appears, flowing in nature, coming right to him and surrounding him.  The shadow frowns at this and growls, but remains in place.  "They're trying to interfere.  They always do, and you know how it will turn out.  Temporary relief before the suffering begins again."

"I love you..." These faint words whispered in the wind from the light source that entered Worren and disappeared from view.  They were from Syelira, his soon to be wife and mother of his unborn children.  Worren closes his eyes for a moment, then opens them.  "I know."  He responds to his dark doppleganger.  "I know they interfere.  They do it because they care.  A feeling that you have lost so long ago."  He puts his own fists up now, by his chin.  "If only you knew this feeling, then you'd understand.  But, I am not giving you my body for you to do that."  The figure stands still with a stone faced expression, his eyes intense.  The sides of his jaw bulge a few times, showing him grinding his teeth in thought, before he finally responds.  "So be it."  The shadowy body is then suddenly engulfed in flames, and his fists come back up once more.  "If you will not accept me, then I will just have to take it from you.  Your God has given you significant power, and so has mine.  But, I have also learned your god's gifts from you, and for that I thank you. Now, let's see if you can overcome the power of Rhalgr and Ifrit united as one."  Worren snorts.  "Your avarice is so great that even Ifrit's will cannot temper you.  I will relieve you of this ailment."  The flaming body of Worren's shadow lashes out with a beastly roar.  "ENOUGH!"

And so they fight. And fight and fight.  Stone clashing with fire, sparks and energy light the darkened room.  They are evenly matched, with Worren's decades of fighting skills countering the warchief's overwhelming power.  Time feels distorted here, and it is unknown to either of them how much time is passing, but they just keep on going.  Fatigue and pain mean nothing inside a mine that has lived it for so long, but everything has a limit.  Worren's own aether is beginning to wane, and he slows down.  His stone constructs begin to falter under the warchief's flames, and molten rocks are a result.  Fighting against his own skills on top of the power of two gods is wearing him down, and once more a familiar feeling flows through him.  His will to live, to overcome his obstacles; they get stronger and stronger.  But, with Arajj Goh being a part of him, he also feels this.  His own will to hate and destroy his enemies in totality begin to flow through him as well.  They become locked in a state of purpetual conflict, and Worren's body reacts, slowly drawing in tiny amounts of aether from the area around him in the former Agency's infirmary. This aether sustains the both of them, but this time it's different.  There is a different source of aether that the body absorbs as well, unbeknownst to either combatant.

However, the tide turns when this flow of energy becomes much stronger.  It has a profound effect on Worren's will, and with the more of this energy he recieves, the more he wants it.  The flaming shadow opponent also feels it, but the feeling is foriegn to him.  He does not know what this means, but he too wants more of it.  Outside, it can be seen that this reaction is caused by Worren's body being taken to Gyr Kehim, Worren's favorite meditation place.  An old Fist of Rhalgr monastary relegated to ruins due to the Garlean occupation and misuse, it is rich in aether and the spirits of Fists fallen in battle during the purge and Empirial takeover.  Worren's body reacts with his will and begins to absorb this aether at a very accellerated rate.  His comrades around him protect him from any wayward bhoots and provide him with their own aether for protection and comfort.  This reaction feeds him, and Worren's will to live begins to push back against the warchief's unyeilding hate.  Hate that is, for the first time, starting to deminish.  The conflict in Worren's mind continues as his body begins overflowing with aether.  His chakra points begin to open, one by one, until six points of light glow on his body.  Soon, a seventh point on his head forms, and slowly begins to glow as a light purplish hue hazes around him.  Worren's companions want to help, distraught at this display, but Syelira prevents them from doing so, understanding that this is an ordeal that he alone must overcome.  They've done enough already by just utilizing their aether.

The feeling of hate in Worren's mind begins to ebb away, as well as his need for absolute survival.  Both opponents begin to slow down in their movements.  They start changing as they strike each other, with Worren's form starting to slowly become covered in stone.  This stone skin slowly turns more and more orange with each strike they deal to each other, and eventually it becomes a molten shell with small flames flickering over it.  Worren doesn't even notice this change happening, while the same thing is happening to the figure representing his shadow.  The flames on the warchief begin to shrink as his skin also starts to form a rocky exterior.  And then, the both of them stop fighting altogether, looking like mirror images of each other.  They stare at each other, and Arajj Goh finally speaks.  "I understand now."  His voice is even. "This power we are obtaining... I know you feel it, too.  Look at us.  We are one in the same.  I am you, and you are me.  You are fighting the inevitable."  Worren remains in place and simply nods.  "Is it my will overpowering your hate, or your will overpowering mine?"  They both step into each other until thier chests touch.  Worren's thoughts begin to intermingle with his shadow's.  It's a strange feeling to him, but also a natural one.  In this moment, they both feel something very important.  Acceptance. "I will stop fighting.  I accept your presence, we are one."

The two of them merge into one being.  He stands there in place as his thoughts are now jumbled.  His memories race back and forth with his mind trying to reset itself.  He sees less and less of his own memories, and more of the warchief's.  He fan feel his own former personality starting to slip away as the other starting to take hold.  The ambient light in the dark room starts to dim until there is no light.  In Gyr Kehim, Worren's body is absorbing so much aether without stopping, that his friends begin to worry.  All of his gates are now open and overflowing when suddenly the seventh point on his head bursts into a brilliant display of light.  The energy released is enough to push those around him back.  And then just as fast as it has happened, all of the points close.  There is no more aether being absorbed around him, nor is there any tainted feelings coming from his own.  Inside his mind, the darkness in Worren's mind flashes away quickly, and as that seventh chakra is unlocked by the warchief's own power hidden within Worren this whole time, it fuels Worren's mind to take hold once more.  No longer feeling the hate he once had, Arajj Goh's spirit now also accepts this fate, and for the first time in decades feels something positive.  Relief, and possibly happiness to finally be freed of the hate and anger that has held him for so long as something he only knew.  Worren is now back in control of his mind, as his memories all return in place, intermingled with new ones.  The two are now one whole, and the molten skin on the mental avatar crumbles and melts away, revealing Worren underneath with a smile on his face.  And then, his vision fades as the avatar also fades away.

Pain.  There's a sharp pain in his head as he hears voices in the darkness.  Worren twitches as his muscles feel extremely sore and tight.  His eyes then open up to the sight of Syelira holding him in her arms.  He coughs and looks around bleary eyed, remaining silent to process everything that just happened, even though his comrades bombard him with questions of concern with his well being.  After a moment, he finally smiles and speaks. "Man, I'm so hungry right now..."

@syelirakaisuri @interdimensionalpeacekeeping @moralistcyclops @astraladvent @the-original-rel @flamesonhammersmith @crooked-tarot-rp @valentinoix @dynamitecowboy @florihilda @chiyohoshi @thetaleofoldmanmaruud @grandmastream @supermeganick @jancisstuff @berrodarmstrong @nhara-tia @cfs-melkire @fyrrdetelemagna @astraladvent

#end game #ffxiv rp #balmung rp #monk rp #worren #Syelira Kaisuri #Kodaro Ba'rococo #Alexandyr Valcarde #Liefhun Blacke

[zashahope]

Zasha Hope was humming in a peaceful manner as she was trimming the hedges of her topiary to make sure it kept its carbuncle shape.

Farrson Odim came walking up and through the arch to the manse. His coats was dripping wet and it looked like his left pant leg was soaked in blood, "Hey, Zasha."

Zasha Hope glanced over, holding a trimming sheer in hand with a small smile. That smile faultered though. "Ah... you okay there?"

Lerran Nemas walked up the path a bit trying to get the water out of his hair with a small cough. "Hmh?" He paused, glancing over at Zasha when he heard Farrson greet her.

Alexander Rendon was about to stride into the homestead, right through the front door before his eyes widened upon the sight of Zasha. He looked down at himself, looking like he just came out of a slaughterhouse - covered in blood, drippings, and entrails of the Amalj'aa he had slaughtered as he stepped right on the cobble leading to the main door. "Shite...I'm covered in blood..." He murmured, having heard stories of Zasha's wrath. "Wait... I KNOW!"

Alexander Rendon experiences a brief moment of enlightenment.

Farrson Odim: "Hmmm? Or. Its fine. Just gutted a toad in the shroud and rubbed it on my leg. Sort of a fetus."

Zasha Hope grimmaced. "Well make sure you wash off before going inside." she said before going to put the scissors on her tool belt. "I'll get the ho---" she paused as she heard Alex shout his 'I know!' and glanced over with a clueless expression.

Lerran Nemas: "I have a bad feeling about this."

Lerran Nemas: "Nothing good happens when he has ideas."

Farrson Odim: "He has ideas?"

Lerran Nemas: "Not ones that are actually worth calling that. . ." Lerran muttered under his breath.

Alexander Rendon with a grin and a look of accomplishment and actual self-respect, he confidently /strut/ over to the hot tub, stripping off pieces of armour on the way as he disappeared behind a screen, which was soon followed by a splash. Alex, the blood-covered Midlander, the former Demon Wolf of Carteneau, was now stripped down to his skivvies, revealing his scarred, chiseled physique and eight-pack abs which glistened with perspiration from the exertions of battle...as he hopped into the hot springs +

Alexander Rendon: with a relieved sigh.

Lerran Nemas: ". . ."

Zasha Hope stared. "D....Did he...Did he just go...blood covered in there..."

Lerran Nemas: "Yup. . ."

Farrson Odim: "Uhhhh... I'm sure Frisk will stop him?"

Zasha Hope: "That's... incredbily unsanity for the others that go in after right?"

Lerran Nemas: "Yup. . ."

Farrson Odim: "Oh. speaking on that. We'll be having a few geusts tonight... they are not as blood covered as Alex, of course."

Zasha Hope: let out a small noise before pulling out her bush trimming sheers and stomping over to the hot tub.

Mathye Bishop comes out, quickly wrapping a bandage around his left hand again.

Lerran Nemas: "I don't think she can hear you right now. The rage is to strong."

Alexander Rendon: "Oh man, this was a great idea!" Alex's voice floated over the walls of the springs, "I should've done this sooner! Now I won't track blood all over the inside of the Homestead and make Zasha mad at me!"

Zasha Hope: "What. THe. Actual. Fuck. Rendon."

Mathye Bishop: "Wait what's this about...blood and rage?"

Mathye Bishop: "...Why is she using profanity?"

Mathye Bishop: "And hasn't slumped into a faint?"

Farrson Odim: "Oh... But she's so cute when she is angry. Her voice goes up a few octives."

Lerran Nemas: "Alexander Rendon is why."

Mathye Bishop: "...GODDAMN IT ALEX CAN'T YOU KEEP OUT OF SHITE FOR LIKE TWENTY FOUR FUCKING BELLS."

Farrson Odim: "He went into the hot tub covered in blood... So somebody is going to need to clean it."

Alexander Rendon: "...She gave me moko brownies, I should be considerate of her - " His head snapped so hard it almost gave him whiplash, "Wait, what do you mean what the actual fu - wait, what the fuck you just swore, Zasha. Uh...I'm making sure I don't track blood all over the homestead?" He grinned weakly.

Mathye Bishop: "...The hot tub that Amber uses for her medical treatments?"

Lerran Nemas: "It's more of a general tub, but Amber does use it more then anyone else. Hot springs are meant for relaxing, not actual bathing."

Farrson Odim: "You are ment to clean yourself before you go in."

Zasha Hope held up the trimming sheers. He couldn't see her face from the rim of her hat hiding casting a shadow. "Do you know... that blood leaves pathogens that can be very harmful to the sick or pregnant thus why I tell people to -hose- off before going in the HOmestead...?"

Mathye Bishop facepalms. "Goddamn it. Though if he dies, I call dibs on all his belongings."

Farrson Odim: "Alex... Well... He had all sorts of blood and other boddily fluid on him."

Alexander Rendon 's hands immediately went to cover his groin after spying the shears in Zasha's hands. "...Isn't...this a way of hosing off?"

Mathye Bishop: "..."

Mathye Bishop: "Yeah I'm not touching that shite with a ten yalm pole."

Zasha Hope: "That is a place people go to rest and relax. Not bathe. -Amber- who is -6- moons along uses it to sooth cramps. And you're putting -blood- in it?"

Alexander Rendon: "...Am I not supposed to?" Alex blinked twice.

Mathye Bishop makes to finish tying off the bandage around his left hand. "Zasha if you murder him, I want the body for science."

Farrson Odim: "I'm more worried about Zasha. She's holding sheers and is clumsy as can be." he paused, "Though... I've never seen her fall down stairs and such while angry..."

Lerran Nemas: "Bless his idiot soul. . . he tried." Lerran said dryly.

Mathye Bishop: "...WHY ARE YOU LETTING HER HOLD SHARP THINGS?!"

Zasha Hope leaned out. Were here eyes glowing red like a demon's. "Shut the fuck up Mathye." she said before leaning back slowly to the hot tub, pointing the sheers at Alex.

Zasha Hope: "No."

Farrson Odim: "Because you think I could tell her what to do?"

Alexander Rendon backed away from Zasha as she pointed the shears at Alex, squeaking as he backed up against the wall. "I thought I was doing a good by bathing before going in...I'm...not doing a good?"

Mathye Bishop: "...Woman, if you fucking faceplant and stab yourself, your ass ending up in my infirmary, and we're both going to be unhappy."

Lucerna Sainahs is dropped off along with Zayaat and ten captives of various ages and races. She had an arrow sized for an Amal'jaa sticking out of her abdomen, but she has since snapped most of the shaft off so she could move around easier. "Um.. is everything alright?"

Lerran Nemas: "Zasha. . . we have guests from a traumatic experience walking up the path to the homestead. Can you pause the threats for a moment?"

Mathye Bishop: "...WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Zasha Hope: "No. You get the hose and spray off. That's why we have the hose." Zasha said. "You've contaimented a medical area and did you what that I am have the full training of castration of pigs?"

Farrson Odim looked over his shoulder, "Oh... alex is making Zasha want to murder him. The normal things."

Alexander Rendon: "...."

Mathye Bishop: "WHY THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE AN ARROW STICKING OUT OF YOU AND WHO THE FUCK ARE ALL THE PEOPLE?!"

Alexander Rendon: "I should run now, shouldn't I."

Mathye Bishop rushes over to inspect Lucerna!

Zayaat Malqir: "Oy, language."

Zasha Hope glared, he could see the look of pure rage on her face. "I will put that knowledge on YOU if you don't empty out the hotsprings and sanatize it up to Lerran's expectations."

Lerran Nemas: "Alex had an idea and tried to do a good thing, but did a bad thing inseat. Theusual."

Alexander Rendon: "..."

Mathye Bishop: "No.  If Zasha curses, I get to curse. Period."

Alexander Rendon: "................"

Zayaat Malqir: "Two, I was going to have it removed before we left, but everyone else left before I could start removing the arrow."

Mathye Bishop pins Lucerna with the Medical Look of Doom. "You."

Alexander Rendon: "I'mgonnapaysomeprofessionalcleanerstodothisforyouinsteadcauseI'mnotgoodatthissortofthinganywaythanksforlettingmetakeabathBYE!"

Zasha Hope grabs Alex's aether suddenly, holding him still from a distance.

Lucerna Sainahs: A tiny black-haired blue-eyed lalafel child, not older than twelve summers, is standing by Zayaat's legs. "We get to curse here? Fuck yeah!"

Lerran Nemas: "I was going to take care of it when we got here. . . I didn't feel like dealing with her not wanting treated on site."

Zasha Hope: "No. You're FUCKING doing it. RIGHT GODSDAMNED NOW!"

Alexander Rendon was stopped in mid-air, and the wind aether was cut off abruptly. To add injury to his misfortune, Alex immediately began to fall down the cliff, tumbling and smacking into the cliff-face as he fell down the rocks.

Zasha Hope used her aether manipulation on his aetherial signature, yanking ALex backwards and reversing his movements to make him splash back in the bloody hotsprings.

Alexander Rendon was yoted back into the hot springs, bruised, bloodied, and with several rocks and twigs sticking out of his muscular body as he fell into the hot springs, face-first, despaired gurgling the only indicators of life.

#longpost #angry Zasha #Zasha Hope #alexander rendon #scarlet bloom #she never uses profanity #ffxiv #ffxiv rp #ffxiv balmung #ffxiv screenshots

[keelime-xiv]

Character Profile: Keelah Se’lai ♥

Helpful Links: [Reference Album]

[ Screen Edit by: Keeperofthelilacs ]

▌ NAME: Keelah ‘Wyvernjack’ Se’lai ▌ HEIGHT: 4′8 (148cm) ▌ SPECIES: Keeper of the Moon, Miqo’te ▌ GENDER: Female ▌ NATIONALITY: Though Keelah’s origins have been rumored to lie somewhere within the Black Shroud, she was raised from an infant by her adoptive Mother in Eastern Thanalan. ▌ BIRTHDAY: 5th Sun of the Forth Umbral Moon (5th of August) ▌ SUN SIGN: Azeyma ▌ PROFESSION: Keelah currently works as a freelance informant/saboteur. If you have the money (and care not for what methods she uses) then she’ll have the information you need. Keelah also has a side gig as a high end dominatrix. Popular among the wealthy, her calendar is constantly booked solid. ▌ RESIDENCE: Keelah lives in an old, one room, stone cottage surrounded by a lush and overgrown garden of wildflowers. The location of this fairy tale esque home is unknown to the general public, but there have been a few who have stumbled upon her home by mistake. (Lavender Beds, Private House) Keelah is also in possession of a ‘ritzy’, penthouse apartment in the city of Ul’dah. It is here she takes most of her clientele and potential business partners. (FC Room) ▌ MARITAL STATUS: Currently in a monogamous relationship. ▌ ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Evil - Keelah can have a good heart at times and will protect the people she has come to love when the time calls for it, but until that time she will continue to fuck up everything in her path. ▌ DRINK: Keelah has a soft spot for Gridanian Honey Mead and sweet milk tea. ▌ FOOD: Seafood Stew. ▌ DAY OR NIGHT: Night. Keelah takes most of her ‘business’ during the night then sleeps the day away. ▌ SNACKS: Starlight cake, crowned pie, finger sandwiches, hands. ▌ SONGS: Nightwish - Imaginaerum (Heck, that whole album is good) ▌ PET: A personal AI Drone that follows her around, helps with daily tasks and dispenses cigarettes. ▌ COLOR: Soft pink, soft blue and black. ▌ FLOWER: Clematis - It grows in winding vines of pink, white and blue along the walls and archways of her cottage home. ▌ SEXUALITY: Straight, but openly flirts with everyone. ▌ BODY TYPE: Hourglass, with a toned stomach. ▌ EYE COLOR: Her right eye is a pale blue. Her left eye is a soft pink. ▌ HAIR COLOR: A deep, almost black, purple that hangs in wild, shoulder length curls. She prefers to wear her hair loose, but twists it into a bun when she needs to work. ▌ SKILLS: Archery: Keelah is an adept marksman with a bow. It is her weapon of choice as she prefers to take down her targets from long range. Keelah constantly works to perfect this skill. Alchemy: At first she dabbled in alchemy just to understand Jack’s ramblings. However, after a little idle study she realized she had a knack for it and fell in love with the science. Keelah now uses her alchemy in her work. Creating various toxins and alike to aid her when pursuing a target or infiltrating a facility.   Hand to Hand Combat: Though Keelah prefers to use her bow, when called upon she can put up a fierce fight. She’s quick, she’s feisty and despite her short stature she packs one hell of a punch, but watch out! She also bites! Musical: Keelah has a beautiful singing voice, but not only that, she can also play the piano. However, these skills are rarely seen as she has terrible stage fright and refuses to perform for anyone except Jack. ▌ SHORT BIO: Left abandoned after an Amalj'aa raid struck her family’s caravan, Keelah was found and raised by an orphan Seeker girl (her mother Shelley) and an orphan Xaela boy (her brother Jack). Together the three survived the harsh Thanalan desert by pick pocketing traveling merchants outside Camp Drybone. It was a meager existence and they often found themselves in trouble with the local authorities, but they were happy. However, shortly after Keelah turned six her brother disappeared without a trace. Distraught, Shelley and Keelah traveled across Thanalan in search of him, but their search was soon interrupted by the approaching Calamity. Caught amidst the destruction, Shelley sacrificed herself to protect Keelah from an oncoming blast, leaving Keelah to wander through the wastes alone. Frightened and very weak, Keelah fell into the hands of a traveling slaver and was then sold to a brothel in Ul’dah. There she remained in servitude for several long and painful years until her Master suddenly (and suspiciously) died. Keelah vanished that night. The Keeper’s current whereabouts are unknown and all of her records from that point have been destroyed.

#Keelah Se'lai IC #Character Profile #IC #Role Play