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shofie-ffxiv · 5 years

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Prompt #8: Escape

This is a free day, so I decided to do a bonus prompt for fun!

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Kiht’a’s fire spell left a lingering scorched smell hanging in the air. The men who’d stolen the amulet had brought it here, and were using it to attempt to awaken some dark magic in the temple. To what end, Shofie did not know, and she couldn’t ask either, as Kiht’a had just razed the men attempting to complete the ritual.

Kiht’a reached into the hollow in the carved stone, and pulled the glowing red amulet out, the glow lighting his face up. The building shuddered violently, and a loud metallic shattering sound exploded around all around them. Shofie and Kiht’a both instinctively held their hands to their ears, attempting to cover them from the deafening sound. The magics that sealed this room finally gave way, now that the amulet had been removed from it’s place.

Kiht’a clutched it in his fist, and the red glow began to dim. He gave Shofie a worried look. “We have to get out of here.”

Their exit route had been compromised when the shield ruptured. She scanned the area for another way out, and spotted a tree branch that had cracked the floor, exposing an easy exit to the floor below.

She grabbed Kiht’a’s wrist and ran wildly for the crack, as the walls continued to violently shake, as their magics too, gave way.

She skidded to a halt and pointed at it. “Go!”

“Shofie, I don’t think I can--”

She grabbed his arm again and gave his back a hard shove, pushing him toward it. “I said go!”

He awkwardly stuffed himself through, barely able to clear his shoulders, disappearing into darkness. She wasn’t sure if he made it all the way through before she began to crawl after him. Her legs found no space beneath, and she knew she had to drop down, uncertain of the distance. She wasn’t even sure if Kiht’a had landed safely below, but didn’t have time to wait as large carved rocks began to drop down dangerously close to them.

Squeezing through, she found herself falling, and she tensed her stomach as she braced for the impact.

She abruptly felt Kiht’a’s arms around her. Kiht’a had caught her, but the fall was great enough both of them collapsed in a heap. He looked as surprised as she. He shoved her off his lap as he made a face. “You’re really heavy, you know that?”

She quickly scrambled to her feet and reached down to haul him to his. “You can be an asshole later, we need to go!”

Keeping her hand tight on his arm, she dragged him down the corridor before they burst into the fresh night air. The tunnel behind them collapsed, rubble and detritus forced out from the weight of the ceiling caving in behind them.

She finally released his arm, and stopped to catch her breath. She wiped at her face, realizing she was covered in sweat and soot, from Kiht’a’s damn spells. She flopped on the ground, exhausted.

She looked at him, and saw he too, was covered in sweat and soot and she proceeded to burst into laughter, holding her sides, laughing so hard she started to cough. The tears from her laughter left sooty streaks down her cheeks.

“What’s so funny! We almost died!” He pointed angrily at the cave-in. “We sure did!”

In spite of himself, he fought himself laughing along with her.

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@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast #FFxivWrite2019

#FFxivWrite2019 #ffxiv #ff14 #shofie #kiht'a #bite size fiction

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maverwyn · 6 years

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A Kiht’a doodle I did tonight on my iPad.

#ffxiv #ff14 #miqo'te #maverwyn #kiht'a

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noxrynne · 6 years

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invading peoples homes like a real life cat does

#kits ffxiv crap #kiht'a jakkya #i transferred him to cactuar oops

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fatetouchxd · 3 years

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Kiht’to Elakha

Guardian | Menphina; the Lover

Main | Dark Knight

Appearance |

Kiht'to is a small, petite Miqo'te; with a very slender form. He has fluffy, short purple hair that sits in a choppy straight cut that frames his face and fades into white. His ears are fluffy and tipped black. As well as the normal Miqo'te markings in the inner corners of his eyes, Kiht'to also has dark purple tattoos on the outer corners. He has heterochromia, resulting in one pink and one blue eye. Due to bad eyesight in the sun, Kiht'to wears glasses.

Personality | At a glance, Kiht'to seems cheerful, sweet and happy. While this isn’t an inaccurate assessment, people tend to be surprised by how intense he can be. He is truly a Keeper and has the fierceness of his people and a hunter’s bloodlust. He’s competitive and quick to rile up; though rarely in anger. He enjoys fighting; both enemies and friends. Despite his passion and his more violent tendencies, Kiht'to does quickly come to care for those around him. Becoming the Warrior of Light is a blessing to him: it gives him purpose and a whole world of adventure.

Bio | Kiht'to was born to a reclusive Keeper group; with little access to the outside world. He was the youngest of five children, with three older sisters and one older brother. He knew that he was a boy from an early age and his family accepted it and gave him the name that should fit him best. He got along well with his family but he and Kiht'a always knew they would both leave eventually as Keeper males often did. The two of them often spoke about what they would do and it was around this time that Kiht'to decided he wanted to explore the world outside of the Black Shroud. And when it was time for him to leave, that was what he did.

Knowing Gridanians could be uncertain about their people, Kiht'to chose to venture instead of Limsa Lominsa. At first he thought to venture away from the Keeper’s more violent nature in hopes of fitting in better and began his journey as an Arcanist. But after his struggles, by the time he reached Isgard he put aside his tome to become a Dark Knight and finally feels at peace with himself.

#tbt

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gaillaffxiv · 5 years

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~Hello Summerland

"Everyone has a world within them... Somewhere, deep down, or bubbling out theirs mouths freely. Perhaps not all are aware, of course, but I see it...

It is clearer in death."

...

Dallia had been hearing voices for a long time, now. Feeling things. Presences. She couldn't recall when they first began. Only that it hadn't been more than a cycle.

Often they offered advice, suggestions, information. She'd heard one offer an incantation to summon Tagetes, now resulting in a constant companion by her feet or within her body- Where exactly she wasn't certain. She couldn't feel it when it chose to dissolve into her shadow.

Tonight one spoke to her again. She'd received ancient tomes from Hawk, and while attempting to parse unintelligible languages it offered to translate. Some time later, she found herself in Sparrow's bathroom, lights out, sitting to face the mirror, a candle burning between herself and her reflection, a dead firefly between two claws, and her tome on the table.

As the voice instructed, she'd melted the wax to trail to the mirror frame, then carved a line through it. Now she whispered, before dropping the firefly to the flame.

"Ut videre, audire et tangere."

The carcass was ashes in an instant, the carved line lighting much like the bug itself, as the mirror turned black.

Lifting her gaze to the glass, Dallia saw her own silhouette, but not herself. Glowing red at the edges, her form led to a sunsoaked land of debris. Various buildings, with alternating architectural design and blasts through roofs and walls. The dark cityscape was awash in red and gold light, flickering off the edges of the scene. As she leaned closer, she noted her shape moved, but the world on the other side was anchored in place, thus revealing more of the horizon.

"...What's this for?" She asked, hoping to receive answer from her guide.

None came.

Perhaps she was meant to explore this?

Following the impulse, she reached out to touch the glass. But contact yielded no feeling. In fact, her fingers passed the threshold entirely, turning black- Pitch black- and shrinking within other side.

She paused, inspecting her hand. Then the city. Then her hand again. She wiggled those fingers, smaller than her palm now. Sticking her arm in further resulted in a miniature forearm, with the end of her elbow cropped harmlessly back in the real world.

"Woah-hoah!.." She marveled, glee laced in her tone. "Hells... This is wild." She grinned, continuing to play about with the sensory trip from this oddity. Looking to the other side, she wondered if she could jump in, like this. It was promising. In fact, it was calling her.

"Is that what I gotta do?" She mumbled, waiting again for an answer. Like before, none came. Fine, then! She could explore on her own.

So she rose from her chair, crawled on the table and forced her way through the mirror. She landed in a tuck and roll on ashen streets. Fire damage was apparent all around, but the first thing he realized was that she could not smell anything, here. Nor could her fingers feel the cold of stone pavement beneath her.

Pressing against it, there was certainly something -there,- but none of the textile senses were reaching her brain. Her brows furrowed.

"Huh..."

It didn't stop her from standing and exploring, though.

Thus a long adventure through this dead city ensued, and would eventually lead to Dallia find an old Ul'dahn house. It's doors and windows were blockaded by thick growths of brambles, colored black with gold thorns.

Her ears perked towards it. Of course, it reeked suspicious, but she wasn't one to shy from the potentially dangerous. So with curiosity compelling her, she approached. Lifting a claw to part the thicket, she would discover the front door to resemble her closet back at Primrose's house. Somehow, it came with a foreboding air.

Like in a dream, she'd find herself able to reach the handles, despite the thorns guarding it. Gripping the metal, she balked on wrenching it open, but only for a moment. A backwards tug was enough for the task, but what came tumbling out filled Dallia with regret.

Skeletons poured from behind a curtain, clattering to the stone porch. Contrite beat in her ears, muffling the sound.

The curtain was thick brocade, with six bars of glowing geometric patterns woven in.

Beyond it, she'd glimpsed a flooded room of black.

Dallia stared forward, frozen, silence weighing around her.

Then, an unwarranted clap would cut it through.

"There you are!" A sickeningly familiar voice chimed.

Whirling around, Dallia found the silhouette of a lalafellin woman approaching. Her bangs feathered at the edges, and her apparel thick robes.

Jujuye. Her sisters Thaumaturgey mentor. Deceased as of almost a cycle ago.

Unlike Dallia's reflection in the mirror, Jujuye's cutout was nothing but static, flecked violet, black and white. With every third step forward, she'd clap again. Each time, Dallia could feel herself shrinking down. Despite the lack of visible facial features, it was easy to sense a grin.

It had been a long time since she'd felt fear.

Personal fear.

"Y-you-" Dallia began to say, backstepping, only to bump into the open closet, brambles pressing around her and the curtain draping her shoulders, as she was forced to sit.

"It is I!" Jujuye responded, with a confidence that curdled Dallia's stomach. She was coming closer. Each footstep was a threat, leaving Dallia heavy.

"What- Why are you h-here?" She'd ask, attempting to maintain her ground. She was cornered. She couldn't run.

"Remember your place." The lalafell would say, raising a palm towards her. The essence of her grin fading for a scowl.

Nowhere.

The static grew heavy. Dallia could -feel- her anger. Threatening, pushing against her. But her minds eye could pivot to the room beyond the closet.

She didn't want to go in there.

She wanted to hide or fight, but she was petrified. She was no match for Jujuye to begin with. Why was she even here? She'd died. She knew this. Hawk delivered her -bones.-

What was this place, and how could she leave?

The heavy feeling only grew, so much that Dallia became numb. Attention locked on the hellion before her, she didn't see the shape of her outfit extending to thick robes, nor her hair growing out and tying itself back.

Jujuye saw, though. The reaction only elicited an aura of joyful malice.

Then, like the fury had been a mirage, a genuine smile would be sensed.

"It's been so long. I wanted to talk, you know! Ten summers is a while apart. Many things can change... For instance, I died." She gestured to herself. "That wasn't very fun."

"You were out to kill me!" Dallia snapped, forcing herself forward, trying to burst from the closet, but the brambles caught her, holding her in. Keeping her safe. So she settled on snarling and setting her chest out.

Jujuye simply rolled her head to the sky.

"We both know you don't deserve to die."

Dallia's ear flicked forward. Was she implying her crimes... Were forgivable?- No, she was going to twist it.

"Not to be cliche, but it'd be too merciful. No, watching everyone you love slip from your grasp while you live to suffer the consequences? That's exactly what you deserve. Thal would be ashamed to -consider- letting you in his halls. There's a reason it keeps happening, no?"

Much like the sun falling to summon darkened skies, Dallia began to cower. She slouched and reared her head. Shut down. Shut it out. Her hands came to her ears, she closed her eyes tightly.

"I- Tagetes, though. It's changed..!" She hissed. After summoning the beast, King had survived Yasu. That was proof, right?

"Has it, though?" Jujuye hummed, her voice unmuffled,despite Dallia's attempts. The lalafell set a hand to her cheek. "You didn't even do anything. It was thanks to Kiht'a, wasn't it?"

What?

Why did she have the context?

What was going on?

Dallia tried to force herself up, tried to escape the closet so she could at least -attempt- to break past Jujuye and make a run for it- But the thicket gripped her tight, shoving her back, past the curtain, blinding her.

"Fuck you!" She spat, desperately trying to pry herself free. When she gripped the brambles, they'd turn to black water, pouring over her and drowning her back into that dark room.

But Jujuye kept talking. Just like always.

"Tagetes is still -with- you. I don't see why that would fix anything- Oh!" She noised, all too cheerfully as she clapped again. "Oh I know what it must be! It's a facade!"

Dallia froze in her turmoil, failing to keep the words out. Struggling was making everything worse, anyway. She hated that thought. It all being a facade. It wasn't like she hadn't considered it, but hearing Jujuye say it was so much worse.

Slowly, she began washing backward, the twilight porch growing distant above her, but Jujuye looming large in the darkness. The flickering static was all she could see in the abyss.

"It was because of -me- you even managed to lay a hand on Yasu! I gave you Tagetes, and that final blow, sharp as it was! You have me to thank! But that aside, it'd come to sense that they'd all kept you around for your strength, buut.. Mm." Jujuye shrugged a large shoulder, looking down to Dallia, who was trying to cover her ears again. "It's over now, isn't it? There's no reason for them to stay any more."

Jujuye glanced over her shoulder, almost as though she was pitying Dallia.

"Your use has been expended."

The logic checked out.

(Continued in two weeks..! Mentions @sparrow-ffxiv @drakenblut)

#ffxiv rp #ff14 rp #ffxiv writing #ff14 writing #writing #spirits #witchcraft #ffxiv #ff14 #roleplay #my writing #the children #dallia #[rosy memoirs]#[black memoirs]#[tagetes]#[hello summerland]#ok to reblog!#aka please reblog i love attention

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rabbitr · 1 year

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KIHT’A JIN, the Warrior of Light.

Adopted by a Roegadyn couple and raised in the La Noscea countryside, Kiht’a went from idyllic childhood to aspiring adventurer to slayer of primals.

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #warrior of light #wol #ffxiv wol #ffxiv miqo'te #miqo'te #ffxiv dnc #character art #rabbit art #kiht'a #oc reference

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dal-s-ta · 4 years

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First Bow

A memory of Father one winter, many years ago.

Father arrived home to find me arguing with my clan brothers, Sen and Dal. They did not want me to accompany them on the week's hunt, as I did not have a weapon. I was hurt, as I thought they were rejecting me as their brother.

Father scooped me up and carried me away, into the forest. His presence calmed me. After some time had passed, he stopped and set me down.

"If you would hunt, you must have a bow. Search through the trees here and find a branch you can curl without breaking."

Many of the branches I found broke in two with the slightest bend. One did not. I brought it to him.

"Truly done, as I expect of my son. Still, a bow without a chord is merely a stick. Gather what remains of the nettles on the forest floor and bring them to me."

I wandered through the area, eyes glued to the ground, finding nettles and plucking them from the ground. After a bit, Father asked me to bring them to him.

He had me strip the remaining leaves, and showed me how to work the stalks so that only the soft outer fibers were left. These were twisted into a long green string. Father showed me how to do it and had me continue the strand of string he started, all the while working on another using more of the stalks.

"A single fiber can not make a good chord. It is only when there are many fibers woven together, each contributing to the whole, that a true bow chord can be shaped."

After shaping the branch a bit, Father cut notches at both ends. The ends of the chord were looped and tied. He handed me the chord, took the bow branch in his hands, bent it and asked me to place the loops at each end where the notches were.

"You now have a proper bow, a gift of Wood and Wind. Let us return to your brothers and prepare for a hunt."

With this said, he plucked the bow chord, creating a thrumming sound.

That sound still echoes in my soul every time I take up a bow.

- Kiht'a Than, personal diaries

#ffxiv rp #ffxiv #Final Fantasy XIV #ff14

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