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paintedscales · 8 months

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FFXIV Write 2023 :: Day 22

Prompt :: Fulsome Characters :: Nomin tal Kheeriin, Alphinaud Leveilleur, Dulia-Chai, Chai-Nuzz Word Count :: 2,330

FFXIV Write 2023 Master List

A loose towel was draped around Nomin’s shoulders as she sat outside the showering rooms that Eulmore had that were mandatory for those coming in from the outside. She had scrunched her nose at the sight that surrounded her ever since stepping foot through the threshold into the impressive structure that made up the city. Green marble, golden accents, ruby red walls tinged with the floral scent of roses... It would have been wondrous were it not for the horrid living conditions of Gatetown and the added desperation of Kai-Shirr wanting to get in so that he could live among his friends.

Hells…even hearing how Tristol had lost the will to paint had been heartbreaking to Nomin. She would not have been able to imagine not being able to love painting -- recreating settings and sceneries to reflect upon and remember… She wondered if Alphinaud had felt the same, for the two of them had often indulged in art, different as their subjects may have been. And so, with the idea that they were both painters -- Alphinaud the expert in painting people, and Nomin his protégé who specialized in landscapes, they had their cover story for entering into the otherwise secretive city.

Nomin leaned her head back, the back of it hitting the wall behind her. She had been waiting for Alphinaud at this rate, his reluctance to take the opportunity when they first got there delayed them in meeting with their new charge.

Leaning down somewhat, Nomin took a small sniff of her clothes. They did reek of sweat and earthy tones…though she supposed that was what the perfume was for. If she was supposed to look and smell her best, Nomin thought to herself that she and Alphinaud both could have been provided some appropriately-sized clothes to wear. Or there could have been something nearby to wash their clothes without bringing them into the showers with them.

Scoffing to herself, Nomin lazily spritzed the perfume upon herself. The scent of roses only became stronger, not that she minded. It was, perhaps, the only decent thing so far that she found herself amicable toward.

When Alphinaud finally left the showers with his clothes back upon his person, a towel upon his own head, and a liberal spritz of the provided perfume, Nomin got back up on her feet and looked down at him. She noted the well-used brush within his grasp, thinking back on what Tristol had said about ‘sending them back to that awful place.’ For a place so lavish and desired to leave such an impression…it had left a rather bitter taste at the back of Nomin’s throat.

“Well, that was bracing! I believe the lingering smells of the road have been successfully expunged.” Alphinaud said, looking up at Nomin. He then adjusted the tome at his hip; “shall we go and present ourselves to our new patrons, then?”

A sigh fell from Nomin’s lips, reluctance in answering Alphinaud right away.

“... Something still troubles you,” Alphinaud observed. “What’s on your mind?”

“This place…” Nomin started, shaking her head somewhat. “Sorry, I don’t mean to halt our progress now that we’re standing here. Just…this place feels a bit too good to be true, does it not? I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like this short of the Vault back in Eorzea. I don’t even think that could hold a candle to how…opulent this all feels.”

Nomin gestured vaguely around them at all the things that she had come to notice.

“Hm…” Alphinaud brought a finger to his chin, his expression falling to pensiveness. “Quite…’tis all steeped with this fulsome luxury that, from what we already know, leads to living in a contented state of indolence.”

Nomin tilted her head somewhat, hearing something she had never properly heard before. She then asked, knowing that Alphinaud would likely be more than happy to inform her: “‘fulsome’? Forgive my ignorance…I’ve never learned this word in the common tongue alongside the language of my people…”

“Ah, pray forgive me. What I mean is that this is all in such excess -- and perhaps sickeningly so. Hells, it could encompass all the meanings of the word that are logged away in the dictionaries of Sharlayan’s libraries…” Alphinaud sighed in a frustrated manner. “Alas, it does us no good to stay here in stagnation. We should find someone to direct us to the Chais that we might learn aught more of this place.”

“The faster the better…” Nomin replied, nodding in agreement. “Let us be about it, then.”

Removing themselves from the entry to the showers, Nomin and Alphinaud found a Eulmoran guard that kindly provided them a basic layout to the city. With a small word of thanks, the two had climbed a number of stairs -- a ‘fulsome amount’ as Nomin so mentioned to Alphinaud just to ensure that she had the meaning of it correct. And what a fulsome amount it was, as it proved to have been a test of endurance for the both of them; Nomin less so, but she could still feel her heart’s beat having picked up as kept her breath practiced.

Waiting a moment for Alphinaud to compose himself, the two had made their way around the Canopy, asking around if anyone knew where the Chais were. The two had been pointed in the direction of a large eatery filled with tables and decor that had been as equally gaudy with its golden accents. It had been made even more of an eye sore with the bright light that filtered in through the windows, only serving to make the glint of them worse.

The table that had their quarry sitting at it, Nomin noticed, had been full of what looked to have been fresh fruits. A plump looking miqo’te -- mystel -- had been sitting there with her husband -- a smaller man with spectacles that sat on the bridge of his nose. They had taken note of their guests, the woman gazing over them curiously.

These must have been the Chais -- Chai-Nuzz and Dulia-Chai.

“Ooh? Who’s this then?” Dulia’s voice carried, her tone light and somewhat shrill.

Bowing to them in respect, Alphinaud’s tone had changed as he addressed them: “Lord and Lady Chai, pray forgive our intrusion. I am given to understand you were in search…of an artist?”

Nomin’s lips twitched before she simply pursed them to force herself not to smile in amusement at how Alphinaud had carried himself. A small hint of his younger self had come out in that moment, not that Nomin would ever tell him.

“Ahh, you must be the new, uh…” Chai-Nuzz spoke, trailing off.

“Oh, goodness me! What an adorable boy!” Dulia exclaimed with a giggle, now having come to process Alphinaud and Nomin’s arrival. “That silken hair, those pearly cheeks…oh, and you even smell wonderful -- like a bed of flowers!”

Dulia had leaned in, smelling the air happily before looking at her husband and cheerfully stating: “I approve of this one, dearest! I am positive he will paint us the most delightful pictures.”

Nomin had been uncertain if Dulia had been saying that simply because Alphinaud had tickled her clear maternal sense, or if because she was absolutely certain that, because they stood before her table, he must have been a devoted artist. Either way, it looked like there was at least one obstacle down…

“I, um, er, y-yes… Ahem. Well, as long as he paints better than that talentless wretch we sent packing last week…” Chai-Nuzz spoke, clearly wanting to at least be on his wife’s good side more than anything.

Momentary amusement quickly gave way to a scowl of disdain. For both Nomin and Alphinaud, it seemed.

And so there was the second obstacle…

“Wonderful, wonderful! Welcome to Eulmore…um, er…” Dulia started, looking at both of them expectantly.

“Alphinaud, if it please you, my lady. And this…is my assistant.” Alphinaud introduced.

“A pleasure. My name is Nomin.” With her words, Nomin offered a bow.

“Your…assistant?” Chai-Nuzz looked incredulously between them, failing to hide that same incredulousness from his tone. “I’ve heard of folk bringing in family members, but this seems a bit irregular. Aren’t you a little young to have a protégé?”

“We are family in all but name, my lord. Though we share no blood, we have stood by each other through life’s many challenges, resolved to prevail together -- or not at all,” Alphinaud said in earnest response. “Of all people, ‘tis she who best understands my work. With her unique insight guiding my hand, the art I create is sure to satisfy your expectations.”

Nomin glanced at Alphinaud. The sincerity within his tone as well as the way he worded his response was heartwarming to her. She would have smiled in warm fashion had she not wished to play at stoicism if only to prevent herself from ruining their overall facade in being there. In fact, she had even reached for her bag, there had been at least two or three paintings done upon hide that she had safely stowed away.

“So what do you learn from him, Nomin?” the Chai-Nuzz asked. He pointed that self-same look of incredulity in Nomin’s direction.

Producing from her bag one of her rolled hides, Nomin spread it open to reveal a painting of a nightly vista found on the Steppe if one were to travel the Tail Mountains. The colors upon the hide were a culmination of browns, purples, pinks, blues with spatterings of white for stars. Clearing her throat as she showed off her own work, Nomin went on, “though Master Alphinaud and I differ in our technique and subject matter, I learn much from him in the matter of emotion. How these vistas I paint make me feel, and how I would wish to provide that for those would would gaze upon my work.”

“Oh! Dearest, look!” Dulia exclaimed, clapping her hands together with joy. “Why, the sky in this painting is so vast and beautiful! Just like in the books I read when I was just a little girl! Young Alphinaud must be talented if this is the work of his protégé!”

Relief wound itself around Nomin’s heart. Of course, her skill in painting landscapes would have no bearing on Alphinaud’s skill in painting people. She would have to hope they were ignorant in the lifestyles of artists to overlook that much.

“Would you like to keep it?” That question alone had been a knife to her own stomach as Nomin uttered the words. However, she spoke them as a means of good faith to keep both she and Alphinaud as on a good side of the Chais as possible. Even if she hated parting with the paintings she made as a means to record her memories of places.

“You would let me keep it?” Dulia gasped.

“A present, and a token of my appreciation to see us well here in Eulmore.”

“I would love it! Ooh, I know just the place to hang it, too!” Dulia looked between both Nomin and Alphinaud, a crinkle at the corners of her eyes as she smiled widely. “Such a gift…and manners, besides! To have two wonderful painters in our midst! I am so excited to see what young Alphinaud has in store for us!”

Alphinaud, however, nodded with a pleasant look upon his face. “I will certainly do what I can. I am ever so lucky to have been blessed with such an assistant who can provide me with such artistic insight as you can see for your very self. As I said, she is the one who best understands my work. Once the picture for you two is begun, of course, I shall have no need of her constant encouragement. And so I wondered, rather than her being in your way, might it then be permissible for my assistant to explore the city she has so longed to see? Out of gratitude for her priceless contribution to my art, I thought it only fair that I make this humble request on her behalf.”

Nomin slowly looked in Alphinaud’s direction. Would they have even bought tha--

“Oooh, did you ever hear of such devotion! Of course your assistant must have her wish! She shall be free to roam to her heart’s content!” Dulia cooed before she looked in Chai-Nuzz’s direction. Her tone then became expectant as she addressed him, “...Isn’t that right, darling?”

“Uh…” Chai-Nuzz was taken out of his thoughts, his mouth falling slightly agape at the prospect. “Oh, yes. Yes, of course, dearest. Q-Quite right.”

Once the Chais had been more enraptured with speaking amongst themselves, Alphinaud met Nomin’s gaze. His expression became determined before he walked forward and cleared his throat. He addressed Nomin, putting that pleasant smile on once more: “now you’ve the opportunity to experience Eulmore, I suggest you make the most of it. Explore the city, top to bottom.”

Alphinaud needed to say no more to Nomin as she nodded. After all, their experiences in Ishgard and Kugane both, had left them with some knowledge on how to carry themselves. If Tataru were here, she would have happily gone to the places that would have provided the most amount of gossip. And it seemed that Alphinaud was on the same page.

“Try wandering around the market stalls, mayhap…? Such colorful places are usually filled with colorful characters, and I know how much you enjoy a myriad of colors,” Alphinaud said. “I would appreciate, of course, if you could share any discoveries with me in turn. We should both learn as much as possible about our, ahem, ‘new place of residence.’”

“I’ll leave you to it, then…” Nomin said, offering another polite bow to both Dulia and Chai-Nuzz. “Thank you again for allowing me this rare opportunity. I shall make the most of it.”

Turning heel, Nomin strode off. She certainly intended to make the most of every second she and Alphinaud had within the impressive walls of the fulsome image that was Eulmore.

#ffxivwrite2023 #ffxiv #ffxiv writing #my writing #ffxiv oc #oc: nomin tal kheeriin #alphinaud leveilleur #dulia-chai #chai-nuzz #shb spoilers

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fheythfully · 8 months

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FFXIV Write 2023 - Day 7: Noisome

She wakes up to someone slapping her face.

“Wakes up” is too nice of a term. It's more like she comes to abruptly, unconscious one moment and suddenly awake the next. For a brief, sleep-addled second she thinks it's because of the slapping, but the touch of these hands is so faint that they don't register as more than a sting. Something in her stomach is rolling, a violent wave of sickness trying to tear her body in pieces and she lurches up and over the side of her bed as whatever it is makes its way out.

Her throat is burning when she's done and she's left to stare at a mess of unrecognizable solids, all bathed in viscous, glowing white liquid.

“Well,” she rasps out. “There's definitely at least half an organ in there.” Groaning, she heaves her heavy, aching body back into the bed. The ceiling of her Pendants room blurs at the edges but she stares at it, stubborn, until it comes into better focus. Good enough, she decides and glances around for Ardbert.

He’s still staring at the Light-blighted mess that came out of her stomach with a look of immense disgust on his face. He turns to her when he senses her gaze, the disgust melting into a look of concern. “You’ll get lines if you keep frowning like that,” she mutters to him. Her attempt at lightening the mood falls flat when the twist of his mouth deepens, the now-familiar jut of his jawline appearing.

“You were screaming in your sleep,” he tells her. Satella takes a moment to absorb his words, but, well–

“It shouldn’t come as a surprise,” she says. “I’m fairly certain that whatever battle is taking place within me, I am currently losing.”

Ardbert’s face is ever so expressive, she thinks not for the first time. It’s like holding up a mirror to her emotions and seeing everything she feels but does not let herself show reflected back at her. She tracks the disbelief which appears first, then the anger, then the reluctant acceptance.

Her gaze trails back up to the ceiling when he doesn’t respond. Several moments of silence pass slowly between them, full of words that both of them wish to say but, as has become the norm with them, do not always need to be voiced.

Satella holds up one arm above her, watching the way the Light from within makes her veins glitter like precious gemstones. “I hope I make a good monster,” she says, quieter now. “One who puts up a good fight before being inevitably cut down.”

“You can’t seriously be considering Emet-Selch’s offer!” Ardbert bursts out. She watches him pace the foot of the bed from the corners of her eyes, the ghostly strands of his hair fluttering with the movement. She doesn’t think this used to be the case when she first came to the First, but somewhere along the way her presence beside him has altered his state of being enough that he has once again begun interacting with the world.

“Those were some impressive slaps,” she replies instead. “I could actually feel them, not by much mind you, but enough that I knew you were touching me. Granted I would have preferred something less violent, but–”

“Amelia!” He yells out. The sound of her true name makes her flinch, and she drops her attempt at diversion. Her teeth had begun buzzing with levin-like sensations sometime during his pacing, and she consciously tries to relax the clench of her jaw.

It doesn’t help. The Light writhes within her like eager maggots come upon a fresh feast, and she watches the ceiling and thinks about her gemstone veins.

“Of course I am,” she admits at last. “How am I to face them all, when I feel as if I am moments away from turning? Am I meant to sacrifice their safety for a fool’s chance at being saved?” She sighs and brings up her hands to press into eye sockets. The world explodes in white lines. Even here, she cannot escape it.

“Let’s be real here, Ardbert,” she whispers after a terse moment. “It has always been me who does the saving. Who can be out there to save me?”

She doesn’t need to see to know that Ardbert is grinding his teeth. Ever so expressive, this ghostly hero of hers.

“You,” he grits out. “You will do the saving. When no one’s left out there who can help you, you will get up from your bloody knees and save yourself, you gods-damned woman. When have you ever been happy to leave your fate in the hands of others?”

It does sound nice, she admits. But the girl he speaks of is years behind them, still fighting somewhere in The Smoldering Wastes and screaming at the strangers wielding crystals, that they are responsible for their own lives, that she refuses to die for their cause. The girl that she is now has primordial Light seeping through her veins and bleeding into her heart, poisoning her body and soul both.

Amelia exhales. “Maybe it’s finally not enough,” she says. “Maybe this time, it’s finally how things end.”

#is it time for Shadowbringers feelings? It is always time for Shadowbringers feelings #my writing #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2023

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warlordfelwinter · 6 months

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stature, motion, roots and change for anyone you're thinking about!

[character design asks]

Fiver, of course!

stature: What's your OC's body type? How tall are they? Do they wear clothing to accentuate their look or do they try to mask it?

he's lean but muscular, the body of someone who's been an archer for like 20+ years. he's extremely strong, but fast and limber as well, so he's not very bulky. i hc viera as being sort of predisposed toward having nice meaty muscular legs (bnuny), but he's proportionally balanced across the board cause that sort of longbow use would give him really nice arms. and back. (basically he's hot. imo. and his kick could shatter bone.) funnily enough the sliders in ffxiv have actual numbers attached to them so i know he's 6' 1.4" for the most part he wears clothing that's practical above anything else, but that would tend to accentuate his figure just bc snugger clothes would be easier to move in than baggy or flowy things. can't risk something getting caught on your bow in the middle of a fight you know. when he's not in danger of getting into battle (rare) he tends to wear things that show a lot of skin. not bc he's trying to be sexy, he just finds it comfortable. and like look at the starter viera gear, showing skin is cutural for them skld;gn

motion: How does your OC move? How does their clothing help or hinder their range of motion? Are they flexible, coordinated, clumsy?

he's extremely in control of his body. very flexible, very graceful, very precise. every movement is made with purpose. if he starts being clumsy, it's probably because he hasn't slept or eaten properly in several days or something and someone needs to hit him over the head and force him to go take a break. and he always dresses in things that allow for movement. i think restrictive clothing of any sort would start to make him feel claustrophobic

roots: Is your OC's look inspired by any specific style of clothing or fashion trend? What are the roots and/or inspiration for their look?

no, not really. i mean, since he's a video game character i don't really think about designing outfits for him like i might with a dnd character or something. his look is whatever i think looks neat in the game at the time. his old bard outfit with the warg pants was "inspired by" (taken directly from) an outfit someone posted on eorzea collection. most of his fits are just armor sets as is or dyed bc i'm not very good at mixing and matching (and a lot of the sets are just so good anyway)

change: Has your OC ever drastically changed their appearance? Significant haircuts, big tattoos, complete wardrobe swap, etc? Why? How do they feel about the change?

complete wardrobe change and drastic haircut at about the same time, actually. this part of his canon to me began as an in-game thing of me using the free makeover ticket i got to give him his cute bob bc i was tired of his long hair clipping with outfits, and since then it's expanded to the lore side with me deciding that up until the beginning of heavensward, he stuck with his wood warder gear as well. the beginning of heavensward you're a fugitive, so fiver gave some small effort toward changing his looks (viera are so rare so i don't think it really helped, but he tried his best) and chopped his hair off and changed out his rava gear for more eorzean fashion. he felt strange and reluctant about making the decision, but once he saw himself in a mirror after his hair had been cut and wearing something just wildly different from his wood warder armor, he felt more like himself than he ever had. he still has his old gear, but he hasn't put it on since.

#fiver could easily snap a man's neck with his thighs like leliana #also just a fun fact that g'raha is. i believe. a min slider so he's 5' 2.7" i think #nearly a foot of height difference there #g'raha is shorter than i am #ask games #the character design one #oc: fiver #replies #xivu-arath

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nosafeharbour · 1 year

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Pandæmonium: Anabaseios thoughts/reactions

Hoo, boy... I have so many thoughts and emotions that I need to untangle here. I wrote up some initial reactions as I played, but I'm glad I slept on it and went back through my screenshots to mull them over.

I liked it. I think it's one of the strongest raid tiers in story and set pieces both. Do I like it over Abyssos? I can't say, I'll have to see how I feel in the future. Last night I felt a lot more conflicted over it, than I do today! Letting it sit in my mind was a good thing.

My Abyssos thoughts are here, if curious!

The first fight was so cool! Loved the voice acting, and the memories/souls... especially the mage, who was giving me Mhachi mage vibes. I want to make them into an OC... the martialist and just, a Behemoth, were also very neat

[blows up myself up with my mind]

He did the italicised you... my favourite...

Lahabrea and Erichthonios hanging out with us so casually in the Aitiascope is very charming... especially the researchers cowering away. I can’t believe these are some of the only two people alive outside of the Scions to have ever seen an Ancient

You’re scaring the hoes

When I tell you that I started quaking and did not stop until I finished the tier. The incredibly stormy maelstrom of feelings over “I’m getting the thing I wanted, but I don’t know how it’s gonna go or make me feel yet”

Oh, the places we shall see! The sad faces we shall make! God, she’s really going through it

This area was gorgeous... I love it when they put my monochrome WoL in monochrome spaces. The hand and eye motifs here were stunning

The Pandæmonium fight itself was SO cool... the voice acting and mechanics were really fun. This is probably the fight (asides from P12S P2) that I’m the most curious to see in Savage

[nervous shrieking laughter]

ABSOLUTELY adore this. I was really hoping it was going to be what the Heart of Sabik looked like, or representative of it, in a way.

[shoving my entire fist in my mouth]

Gaius mention... while Lahacred is on screen... nodding, smiling

The slow zoom as they silently stared at each other... pretty sure Lahabrea knows that Albi could confirm his suspicions, but neither of them want to say anything.

I quite like the framing of this memory of Lahabrea - we’re picking up where we left off after knowing him in Abyssos, a “version” of him from closer to the Final Days, but with the context of nothing he learns or experiences here having any impact on the “real” Lahabrea that we meet later on. We get the character set piece, without any longlasting character growth. He gets to learn about his future self, but not in a way that impacts that future. For the WoL, it’s such an interesting mix. A man discovering his future horrors. But WoL is reluctant to say anything, so it’s a very stubborn game of chess.

It’s from here on, with the real and grounded Heart of Sabik lore, that my thoughts get much more complicated! Not in a bad way, I’m just overwhelmed.

It is interesting that it does, ultimately, all stem back to the High Seraph. I have/had a complicated view of the Ivalice raids... even as somebody who loves FF Tactics, I felt at the time that they felt too much like transplanting FFT/XII lore into FFXIV in a way that didn’t feel as smooth and natural as other homages. I didn’t enjoy Ivalice until The Orbonne Monastery, and Bozja, the latter of which did the most for soothing those feelings... The implication that the Heart of Sabik was auracite that stemmed from the High Seraph, I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I’m still not sure how I feel about it! At the very least, I can really respect them holding fast to their own internal lore. Ivalice isn’t any less important or major, for being a piece of side content.

Equally interesting that the reason Azys Lla was involved, specifically the Aetherochemical Research Facility, was because Lahabrea was still carrying the Heart of Sabik with him until the day he died. The memories of Athena still within it, called out to the shard of Erichthonios... I had hoped that there was going to be some further connection to “our” Lahabrea and where he seemingly died there, but I guess he truly did die. Again, respect holding fast to their lore!

So Ultima, as a spell and a concept in all of it’s forms from Ivalice, to Pandæmonium, and finally to the Ultima Weapon and Werlyt, does truly originate from Ultima, the High Seraph. But the Heart of Sabik itself, has the most major ties to Athena. I’ll put my more specific thoughts on Ultima at the end.

bbbbbbbbbb

Oh my god... they did it... I really love Elidibus a lot (in a “sleeper agent” way where I don’t think about him much until he’s on screen in front of me, but he is the other Ascian other than Lahabrea that really had me invested and hanging onto the Ancients plot) but I’m so, so glad for the Elidibus fans. To get to see his true form, and for it to really lean into the blind justice themes, it’s so good. I’m emotional

And the arena... this truly is the original meeting hall/chambers for the Convocation, is it not? The way it directly mirrors the meeting space the Ascians use in the Rift is amazing. The light pouring in through the windows, the views of Amaurot outside of them... amazing. The sigil on the banners surrounding the hall is Lahabrea’s, so I wonder if this is the Speaker’s hall, in some manner?

P11 itself made me tear up randomly during the fight, lmao, I don’t remember the last time that happened... maybe the Werlyt trials, or Endsinger... the music hitting crescendos, seeing attack names that so closely catered to Elidibus lovers, and the feelings of this being the truly last chapter to the Ascians/Ancients... it got to me.

Ahh... so I have complex feelings about Albi ever using/giving her aether out like this, even when the WoL does it fairly often. After her incident at The Ghimlyt Dark in 4.5, she hasn’t been able to control her aether in a manner she could offer it to others, and even since recovering enough to return to the mantle of Black Mage, it’s still something that she’d pause before doing.

But this moment felt right. It reminded me of this moment, the last time Albi did something of the sort;

And considering who that was done to defeat, it feels poetic!

Additionally, I’ve had a lot of thoughts since Abyssos about Albi’s aether... I’ve been bouncing back and forth on this idea of Lahabrea doing something with her aether, half motivated by him actually imbuing you with some in order to summon allies just before P8, but also because an Ancient who is so heavily aspected to fire, who already does comment on the WoL’s strange composition, wouldn’t be able to not notice Albi’s still inbalanced fire-aspected aether. I’ve had some scenes I wasn’t sure if I wanted to write or draw, but now I’m just certain that he did take note of it... I think the context is that he gives her some aether after she’s so worn out and woozy from P8, and while it’s not something she consents or agrees to, his feeble poke does help mend the last bits of damage to her aether. This is a story for another time, but, it all goes into this moment with Albi’s aether.

Tangent over!

These lines of dialogue just really hit.

I really adore this design, as much as I am like. Oh my god noooo the lunar moth with eyes thing was my Light Warden/Titania design for Albi! First she took Ultima from me, and now this badass design. I’m happy but like NO, WAIT lmao

Considering Athena has the same hair colour/style as me irl and I’ve always found that amusing, I’m... she’s taken everything from me...

(I really, really like Athena, so I’m allowing it)

I like that she’s simply Theos, to go with the Hemitheos title that the others got. She’s a full god.

The High Seraph’s angels... I know I already talked about my thoughts on the High Seraph, but it was only implied until post-raid. This is the moment I was like ohhhhh yeah, this is 100%

OH, THIS IS... THIS... [shoves my entire fist in my mouth, again]

Glad that we wiped 2 or 3 times, so I could get a few different angles on this. She’s doing the same gesture with the arms, and it’s the same effect, as when the Ultima Weapon casts Ultima.

And it’s called Theos’s Ultima... I only noticed this going over these screenshots again. The Weapons in Werlyt used Optimised Ultima, there’s this, and then I think only Ultima Weapon and Pandæmonium use “just” Ultima. Unsure about the High Seraph, perhaps she does too? I’ll have thoughts about this later!

It was very cool to see what a person using Ultima looks like! Again, I’ll have thoughts about this at the end. The elephant in the room on my personal WoL lore, lmao

I do like Athena, as a character... I’ve always wanted more women villains, especially one who is so unapologetic, and covers the facet of the Ancients that I didn’t initially vibe with; Hermes touched upon it, but the power to create and destroy, and act as a steward of life, is something that cannot only breed good.

And I love Erichthonios... I liked his send-off. He got the emotional farewell/”death” for the sake of the player and their journey. We know the true Erichthonios is sundered later on, but we get this moment

Ah... I am just... ahhhh

Here it is, here’s The Scene. This ended up being so close to a lot of what I wanted for their moment of closure, including the setting, but different enough in ways that were surprising and refreshing

You are him. The option and delivery here was just so perfect, I am going to think about this line forever.

Lahabrea calmly putting the pieces together, asking this, and having the calm response back from WoL... understanding the journey his future self went through, and not even faulting it, because he is so sure in his sense of self that he can see how he would go down that path. This isn’t like Emet balking at the idea of the things he did and calling it fiction, this was Lahabrea understanding, cursing his future blindness, but not even refuting what he does.

While we did not get the moment I really wanted, where we speak to the culmination of “our” Lahabrea who recognises us from ARR and HW, as well as Pandæmonium’s Lahabrea, this might fit his character more. It’s a nice moment in the writing. It’s a moment of dignity for ARR/HW Lahabrea, almost, recognising his acts but not dragging them to the spotlight.

And again, the way he simply and calmly accepts these acts. I love the moment of Claudien thanking him, and recognising him as the Speaker and not as the Ascian, because it’s another full-stop on the note of Lahabrea being someone who was so respected and adored. But Lahabrea, with his calm (”a calm heart stays the course”...) and collected mind, can simply brush that aside. I become your enemy, and your enemy deserves no sympathy.

Everyone (including Albi simply smiling at him) heckling him to accept the thanks is sweet, though. “If you insist on deceiving yourselves, then so be it. My stance remains unchanged.”... I like this writing a lot...

I also really liked Lahabrea’s “I will hear no more, you are not him” in response to Claudien wanting to bring up Erichthonios’s memory. It was a nice touchpoint back to the theme of “you are you, and nobody else” from Shadowbringers... we are neither Ardbert, nor Azem, Gaia is not Loghrif, and Claudien is not Erichthonios. Albi has a lot of complicated thoughts in regards to Azem in her interactions with Lahabrea, particularly in this scene, feeling as if she “should” be doing or saying certain things in order to honour their memory. So this was a good moment in which to hear Lahabrea say this.

I know this is not the “real” Lahabrea, but having this, in the eyes of the player and in context, essentially be his last words... ah... it’s good. It’s sad, and lacks the amount of emotional closure I really did want, but in a way that is simply so succint and fitting of Lahabrea’s character. He’s not as sentimental towards us as someone like Themis, or even Emet-Selch. This is fitting, for him, even if my heart wanted more.

There isn’t always a happy ending. You can’t always have things turn out how you want.

One last trip to wrap things up... Hegemone!! I dressed up as you for Halloween raid night last year. Good to see you

Hehe... I just wanted to say hello... :’)

This is one of the coolest shots and lines of dialogue in the whole raid series. I adore him.

Ah... he did it! It happened! While I suppose he did live without Hephaistos for a fairly long period of time before we encounter him in Abyssos, I was surprised that he’d rejoin with that piece of him so relatively quickly, afterwards. I was anticipating it to be right near the Final Days, if not afterwards? But this was a good scene. I liked the subtle change in him, after - he is still himself, but with that slightly sharper edge.

And then oh my god, we got The Scene... 2

Ah... I guess this is a nice counterpart to the more emotional, wistful farewell scene. Reading these lines again made me misty eyed though, lmao... This is underlining his stance; I am committed to my course, regardless of where it takes you. We are not alike.

I like it! It’s such a clear paralell to Emet’s final final words to us in Ultima Thule... my convictions are invincible. Considering I had issues with them softening up Emet a bit too much in his sentimentality for us, I like that they went out of their way to do the opposite with Lahabrea.

It’s curious - going by Erichthonios’s epilogue, and their mention of the event at the start, the memory versions we journeyed with were created right before the Final Days, they knew about their impending doom. The Lahabrea who gave us his softer farewells also has these memories of this more divisive parting. We got both the respected, wise man of days gone, but also this more haughty man who lines up more with the image we have of him as a villain... hm... I’m going to dwell upon this a lot and come back to it.

In both scenes, I do like his final words. At the same time, I’m glad they’re not his final words from the viewpoint of the Ascian, just in that I don’t have to redo my Final Words sticker set... LOL... but maybe a second set, with these Ancient versions of their final words

Erichthonios’s memory epilogue was good. I like how it all came back to the start.

This screenshot just feels so fake. To be holding the Heart of Sabik so casually... I wish it looked a little bit cooler. I was ready to make an enamel pin, or something.

Speaking of epilogues... damn.

I was SO shocked that this scene was voiced, as I’m sure many were. I’m so, so glad though. He deserved this; we got a bit of this in Endwalker, but getting this semi-final version of him created from pieces of him in the lifestream, meaning he is as complete enough as needed for this closure, with all his memories... it was good. It was very poignant.

This is a “where you go my dearest friend, fate shall surely follow” level of good line. God. This one is going to stick with me.

Goodbye.

Some final optional dialogue with Claudien to confirm the Heart of Sabik’s direct relation to the High Seraph... and there we have it! All done.

I’ll be honest, when I finished this last night, I knew I liked it but... felt depressed, nonetheless. I suppose it was a feeling not unlike grief, that in one day, I’d just seen the end of Gaius and Lahabrea’s stories, as well as the wider Ancients story. And while the latter has not engaged me so much in Endwalker as it did in the past, it’s still been such an ongoing thread, and Pandæmonium has felt like the only part of Endwalker I’ve really connected to... and now it’s over.

Today, especially after going through these screenshots again, and realising I was running on 3 hours of sleep yesterday, I am feeling much better.

I am still slightly sad that Lahabrea did not get as much focus in this raid series as I’d hoped! I wanted this to be his moment of closure equivalent to the Dying Gasp and the Seat of Sacrifice. Not only was the Hephaistos fight not his “true” self in the same manner as Hades, in the end... Emet and Themis just got ANOTHER set of nice moments of closure, in Ultima Thule and then in P11. Having seen Themis’s true form now, it only stands out more how we never saw Lahabrea’s. Themis got that voiced cutscene, but nothing from Lahabrea. I think I’m always going to be slightly hung up on that.

The other thing I felt weirdly conflicted about was that Ultima means so much to me - there’s this nervous energy that comes from having the Heart of Sabik now cleared up and attributed to other characters. Ultima coming in during the music in the Final Day made me cry when I first heard it, and I decided that Albi uses Ultima during that fight, with the help of some post-Werlyt research into the relics left behind from that, and dynamis. Last night, after finishing Anabaseios, I was left feeling like I couldn’t even use that any more. I never liked the High Seraph much, I was sad that none of the music in this raid tier even used the Ultima leitmotif, and now it was Athena’s “thing”...

But the whole point of Albi using Ultima was that she was reclaiming it in the name of hope, as she has done with Allagan relics before it, as she did with all of the final boss motifs in the Final Day’s theme. I’m still keeping it. :) Seeing that Athena’s was call Theos’s Ultima, I’m thinking Albi’s might just have a different name, too. Magi’s Ultima, or something. I’ll work on it.

My god, this post became so long. But I had a lot riding on Anabaseios! I’m happy with it. I’m glad that of all the tiers this expansion, the one I raided most fully was Abyssos, though, and that is possibly still one that means the most to me. But I’m looking forward to casually progging Anabaseios, and seeing what P12S might be like!

Lahalbi... real? Not really, not in the ways I’d hoped. But they mean a lot to me, as does Ultima.

#6.4 spoilers #pandæmonium #anabaseios #reactions

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driftward · 2 years

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Title: FFXIV Write 2022 - 22. Veracity Characters: Tataru Taru, Raubahn Aldynn Rating: Teen Summary: Just a few questions can uncover much Notes: None

Tataru regarded the Hyur on the far side of the desk from her with a frown on her face.

"Now, Valagnar Strong, was it?" she asked.

"Aye," he replied.

"I've noticed some irregularities in the donations your organization has sent. As well, I've had trouble determining the veracity of the last load of artifacts you sent in. The ones you claimed might hold kami within."

"What of it?" he said. "The donations are good coin, and I sent you the documentation on those artifacts as well."

"The donations are good coin, yes," said Tataru. "But I mislike how you seem to be playing a shell game with which organization you have send them forward. And I could not help but notice that the documentation you've obtained and had sent forward to us came from a acolyte who, in the course of being asked about their credentials, could not seem to help but tell me about a recent bout of fortune they'd enjoyed, recently getting themselves out of a large amount of debt. When I asked after that, they suddenly became very quiet on the matter, and changed the subject rather quickly. Odd, for someone who had been moments earlier so elated at their change of fortune, don't you think?"

He simply raised an eyebrow at her, and she sighed.

"Yet everything's all verified and above board, miss. I don't know what to tell you."

Tataru frowned, tapping her finger against her chin. "Well," she said, reluctantly, "I suppose you are correct. Fine then. We will be taking no further action at this time, however, neither shall we be conducting further business with you."

The Hyur frowned at that, but after a moment, he shrugged. "Suit yourself," he said, getting up and walking out of the Rising Stones.

Tataru continued to frown at his back as he left, and once he was gone, she crossed her arms and closed her eyes, thinking.

-*-

"General Raubahn!" said Tataru as she came striding into his officer's room in Ala Mhigo. He looked up as she entered, and stood up from his desk with a broad smile, and saluted her by crossing his arm across his chest.

"Mistress Tataru," he said. "I must thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule. Please, close the door behind you. We have much to discuss."

Tataru closed the door and took a seat, and as Raubahn sat down again, she gave him a knowing smile.

"Well I am only too happy to help, general. Whatsoever's on your mind," said Tataru.

"It's regarding a man who we only just recently were able to secure a case against and put in the goal. I believe you know of him. Valagnar Strong. We've found him guilty of profiteering off of Ala Mhigan artifacts, as well as smuggling, and apparently, some sort of scheme to hide where his money was coming from and going to."

"Ah, well," said Tataru. "It is nice to see justice being done. What does this have to do with me, though, I wonder?"

Raubahn snorted, but there was a broad smile on his face. "It did not take any great cleverness to find the source of the many tips we got regarding the man's malfeasance. Some were more reluctant than others to tell us how they got their information, but ultimately, lass, it seemed that everything pointed back to you."

"Oh, general! You're embarrassing me! But if I you're forcing me to tell the truth, well then, I confess. I can be a bit of a gossip. But! I only asked a few questions here and there! To say anything further though would be telling! And, well, you know a young woman such as myself has to keep a few secrets, doesn't she?"

"So you say," said Raubahn. His face grew serious, and he leaned forward. "Lass, I do not ask lightly, however. I know we owe you and yours much. I in particular, and those debts will not be soon repaid. And you owe me nothing in return. But this republic which I have been appointed general of... my beloved Ala Mhigo. We are an old nation, aye, but long humbled, and only just now being rebuilt. In many respects, we are new again, and there are mistakes we can ill afford to make so early. This man's crimes would have been almost laughable in Ul'dah, but here, they may well have sent us down a dark path that would have seen this Republic strangled in its crib before it had a chance to even crawl.

"So I must ask again. No, I must beg of you, Mistress Tataru. I wish to know how you came to bring this scoundrel to justice. Your methods will remain secret with me, but I need to know how to protect us against this kind of malfeasance in our own borders in the future."

Tataru looked at him for a long moment, thoughtfully, a hand on her chin, before she hopped lightly out of her chair and beginning to pace.

"You wouldn't happen to have any tea in here, would you, general?"

"Just my morning coffee, I'm afraid, which I am willing to share. I can have some tea sent for, though, if it pleases you."

"No, no, no need to bother yourself on my account. I'll have what you're having."

Raubahn nodded, and he got up, walking over to his coffee carafe and pouring out two mugs. One he set on his desk, and the other he held out to Tataru, who took it with a curtsey, and closed her eyes as she slowly leaned back and took a sip.

As he sat down again, Tataru began to pace again, now with her coffee in her hands. "Where to begin, where to begin..." she said.

"I suppose it really started back with the Crystal Braves," she said quietly, and Raubahn stilled.

"Ilberd, and his betrayal," said Raubahn, and his voice was like gravel grinding against stone.

"To be sure, but there were signs that I missed," said Tataru, keeping her tone light and pleasant, as though she were talking about the weather, or perhaps a new shop. "Many of the new recruits we gathered were of questionable history. Laurentius, for example, was a well known turncoat, and had many gambling debts at the time he joined the Crystal Braves. And a friend had warned me that Yuyuhase had a habit of gaining and losing many would-be mates. I was told that he was oft charming at first, but would later turn mean, chasing many of them away.

"I never would have allowed them in the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, but we were just so busy, and Alphinaud was so proud of his big dream. I thought the best of matters, you know! I thought that perhaps being around the Warrior of Light and her friends would change them for the better. And it might've, but we were all being hoodwinked.

Riol saw the larger problem first, in the books and records we were keeping at the time. He brought it to my attention, and I told him to tell the Warrior of Light, and, well, we thought we'd have time to fix whatsoever went wrong. After the banquet, perhaps."

Tataru fell silent, and Raubahn could not bring himself to press her.

"I should have seen it first, General. It was my job, as secretary, to vet all who came through our doors, to keep our books in order, to watch over the Scions of the Seventh Dawn even as they watch over the realm."

He watched, as she clasped her hands behind her back. And then she turned to him, with a wicked smile on her face, and a glint in her eye that startled him.

"So I swore, General," she said. "Never again. Never again would others take advantage of the good nature of my friends.

She began to pace again. "And so I learned. I learned what to look for, and I sought what had gone so wrong in those days. And I simply applied that here, general. For you see, a wicked man is often wicked in many ways! You can overlook a few things, of course. Some get lost in their cups, but from sadness, not from darkness. Some may raise their voice, but that's because they've never been taught how to handle their temper. But some beat their wives or cheat their friends, and some lie in a lot of small ways that all add up, and that's what you go looking for."

She spun on her heel, and turned to face him, waving a finger in the air.

"And go with your gut! And my gut told me, this Valagnar Strong, he was no good. I couldn't prove anything, of course, he'd done a good job trying to work me over. But my gut said not to trust him, so I cut him free as soon as I was able to. And once I had, I started to ask questions. The acolyte he had verifying artifacts for him wouldn't talk to me, so I asked Hancock if he'd seen any shipments for the same lately. He said he had, so I asked Yugiri - you remember her, of course - I asked her if she would keep an eye out for me, for anything going from Doma to Kugane from that temple. She did, and wouldn't you know it."

"Fake artifacts," said Raubahn. "Aye. Another of Lolorito's lackeys told me of that. And he felt assured enough to tell me that, apparently, the good Lord Lolorito was quite upset at having been hoodwinked."

"Oh, is that what happened?" said Tataru. "Well, all I knew was that Hancock said he would take care of it."

"So he did," said Raubahn. "But we didn't find that little morsel of information out until we'd already captured the man and were making our case. Lord Lolorito wanted to be sure we'd put the screws to him. I'm wondering about the rest of it."

"Oh, well, of course, I'm getting to that," said Tataru, putting her hands on her hips, and Raubahn chuckled despite himself. "Anyroad, now that I knew that his artifacts were no good, I decided to ask after the matters of how else he was making his money. Turns out, part of why he was able to smuggle so easily, is because of his shipping concerns. So I thought to stop by Limsa Lominsa and speak with Captain Carvallain. Oh, did you know that the Warrior of Light claims to have met him in her youth? I tried to ask her more about that, but she wouldn't say anything further. Say, you're friends with the Admiral, right? Has she ever said anything about that?"

Tataru's smile had that wicked edge to it again, and Raubahn shook his head.

"Sorry, lass. The Admiral and I are confidants of circumstance, being as we are the head of our nations' respective Grand Companies, but I do not think us so close that I should go prying. She keeps to her business, and lets me keep to mine."

"Ah well. More's the pity," said Tataru wistfully. "Where was I? Oh yes! I asked our good friend Captain Carvallain what he knew of Mister Strong's merchant activities, and apparently, the man is little more than a pirate himself. However, while Carvallain was busy, how'd he say it? Entertaining Garlean cruises, apparently Mister Strong was rather more interested in moving their ill-gotten goods."

"And there it is," said Raubahn. "The Admiral did mention that Carvallain asked her to send her Assessors after particular ships. She thought it was petty pirate jealousy at first, just an attempt to get a leg up on shipping, but upon inspecting the ships, she found Ala Mhigan contraband in the belly of one of Strong's ships. Smuggled out of the storeroom that Arenvald had found. It was meant to be sold, to help bolster our economy, but instead found its way to his clutches."

"I did wonder why Carvallain looked like the cat who'd had the canary when we last had lunch," said Tataru. "He wouldn't tell me, though. He said it was a state matter, now."

Raubahn crossed his arms and closed his eyes, and harrumphed. "And I can well imagine their are similar stories if I were to go asking after the many threads that seemed to just fall into my lap. The report from Little Ala Mhigo about a source of Soma. M'naago telling me of tainted suppliers. The man had his fingers in a lot of pies, it seems, and I dare say you found most of them."

"Perhaps," said Tataru, smiling.

Raubahn took a deep breath in, and let it out slow. "You are a menace, Tataru Taru, and a good friend to share this with me aside. Full on to the Frumentarium all by yourself, you are. Just asking questions! Hah. I still don't fully see all that you've done here, but I begin to see how. Apparently, on the night of the Banquet, I learned that a snake can wear the skin of a friend. You, however, learned how to find the snakes that yet lurk in the grass."

Tataru just closed her eyes, and sipped at her coffee.

"...I'm not sure I've the temperament nor the capability to do what you've done for Ala Mhigo, and I'm grateful, lass. Having said that, I'd like to think this bull isn't too old to learn a new trick or two, or at least learn how to see it done. If you've advice for me, I would follow it."

"I thought you'd never ask," said Tataru, as she opened her eyes and smiled up at Raubahn. "Remember what I said earlier. The wicked are oft wicked in many ways, and you'd do well to follow up on that. As well, you've got to learn your instincts, and then learn to trust them. Ask Lyse to help you, she's good with people. And form connections! Real connections, you never know when a friend will have just the right thing to come to your rescue. Learn to ask around. Ask M'naago to help you with that. She's a good woman, and she's already begun to form her own little empire of contacts. With those two, I think you'll b e well on your way, general.

"And that's all it is, really. Keeping a keen eye out, an ear to the ground, asking questions, and a healthy habit of talking to people you know."

Tataru looked into her cup thoughtfully for a moment, and then handed it back to Raubahn. "And get a tea kettle. That stuff was truly horrid."

Raubahn laughed. "Aye, I should've thought to prepare properly for your arrival, especially as you're going well out of your way to come all the way out here. You've my apologies, lass, I should've known better. I full well remember the Warrior of Light sharing coffee with me one morning during the war, and complaining about how all the ladies of the Scions were, apparently, 'terrible sweet-hounds', I believe she said."

Tataru laughed. "Well, she may be right! Still though. I do appreciate your hospitality, General, and I hope I've helped."

"Aye, lass, aye. You've lent veracity to the events that lead to the arrest of Valagnar Strong, and helped put an old bull's mind to ease. I still don't fully understand how you did it nor what all you did, but I will take your counsel, and we will learn. Ala Mhigo will not be brought low by, to use your words, wicked men."

"Very good, general," said Tataru cheerfully. "Well, I believe I hear the market calling me. We should catch up more often."

"Aye, lass. I think we should," said Raubahn.

Tataru curtsied, and then she was gone, and Raubahn sat down at his desk, and looked at the ceiling, his head still swimming at it all.

"Just a few questions indeed," he said.

#ffxivwrite2022 #final fantasy xiv #tataru taru #raubahn aldynn #veracity #202209-23 #biot writes #stormblood

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witchofthescions · 1 year

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alt!

Character Portfolio

((Starting with a character relevant to the blog (as in will be appearing eventually), meet Svaran! He's basically the FFXIV incarnation of a character I've had for a very long time. The original version of the character is named Sayran and I'm reasonably sure I've mentioned him on my other RP blogs.

So the basic idea behind Sayran/Svaran is that he's a supernatural critter who accidentally wandered away from his parents at a young age and wound up adopted and raised by humans. Though to be fair I'm pretty sure Viera are just rarely seen and don't actually count as supernatural in the setting lol. Both Svaran and Original Flavor Sayran lost an eye, though the version I played as part of a D&D campaign way back when did not.

He is the epitome of the "high int low wis" trope. Very, very smart! But has like zero common sense and is easily distracted. Which is, perhaps, not the sort of combination you want in a necromancer. That's one of the other consistent qualities across versions: every single one is a necromancer. Not an evil one, mind you, he's too kind and respectful for that. But he is very much involved with the business of raising the dead.

Svaran, I'd say, is probably the most serious out of the three versions. Still a bit of a goofball, but he's lived through some shit. As mentioned in the above turnaround, he was present when Dalmasca fell 30 years ago. He did not escape unscathed; he not only lost his eye, but his adoptive parents too. That's what eventually spurred him to take up necromancy. The vague hope that maybe, someday, he could bring them back. (It's a vain hope, he knows. But before he met Erna's brother Hirskfedar, it was the only thing that kept him going some days.)

He eventually made his way to Eorzea and ended up becoming notorious for his necromantic experiments. He raised the dead, sure, but he never actually sent zombie minions against anyone or anything like that. He was just researching what it would take to bring someone back to life, and was more than happy to be left to his own devices. But, well, most people don't like it when you go around turning their loved ones into zombies, so Hirskfedar was sent to investigate what the hell he was up to. After an initial scuffle and some misunderstandings, Hirskfedar convinced Svaran to come along with him on his adventures. At the time, Svaran didn't have the Echo, so there was a limit to how much he could actually help the Roegadyn man. But they became fast friends within the relatively short amount of time they were together.

Of course he accompanied Hirskfedar to the Battle of Carteneau. When Bahamut broke free of his prison, however, Hirskfedar told him to flee, and with a certain amount of reluctance, he did so. He's not sure exactly how he managed to make it out of there safely, especially when so many others didn't, but afterwards he discovered he now had the Echo. Ever since, he's been traveling around as an adventurer, hoping that maybe he'll bump into Hirskfedar again. He's loosely affiliated with the Scions; they've extended an offer to join and he is technically on the payroll, but he mostly does his own thing. He's just a silly little bunboi wandering Eorzea and offering his talents to anyone who asks.))

#lastlycoris #informal inquiries (asks)#!meme responses #((I sure did a lot of rambling about him huh lmfao))

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sahrabarik · 2 years

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FFXIV SHB SPOILER THOUGHTS im on mobile idk how to do a read more

Maybe im remembering shb wrong but i seem to recall thancred was reluctant to be close at all to ryne until she forms her own identity. Like he does love her but i think he cant help but see too much of minfilia in her and thus a constant reminder of what was taken from him and l’hammin? Im not saying thancred is a bad dad and doesnt deserve ryne, but i am saying it was complicated ? At the very least he cared for her but when she looked like minfilia and was addressed at minfillia i dont know if i can confidently say he loved her

#ffxiv thoughts #ffxiv #ffxiv spoilers

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disadsfam · 1 year

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The Very Long "All About Sumire's Design" Post

Based off of this twitter post, this will be getting divided into different sections. This is focused around her multi-Warrior of Light timeline, and not her solo-WoL timeline.

Appearance Since I got into FFXIV via a friend who showed me race options first, I had already decided early on I wanted an Au Ra and I wanted a Raen. Other than that, blank slate. Sumire was a character who went through a couple of drafts. I generally tend to make characters based on my, personal, ideal look - which includes red hair. I dunno if its because of the CC's awful lighting or what, but the combinations of the features I usually like in a character just didn't make a finished product that I liked. So with that planned scrapped, I went to thinking of other things...

So then I decided, if Raen are supposed to be East Asian, let me go with making a yamato nadeshiko combined with some of my idealized features. Black hair and slightly lighter skintone from the yamato nadeshiko; red eyes, freckles, and flat chest from my personal tastes. That finally made an acceptable passing character.

As I played more I developed her more as an individual character with my friend group, and then was introduced to mods and decided on a few little slight changes. Gave Sumire some limbal rings to make her red eyes POP, and then went with some scale mods for iridescent scales - the scales in particular feel the MOST right for her. And then I gave her the long ass hair I always envisioned for her. So over the two years I played the game her "final" look only happened in the last few months. XD

Personality This was kind of pre-established, but shifted as I figured out what she was about. Bubbly, happy genki girl out to make friends was the start, but also with a dangerous edge. That would later grow to the bubbly, happy genki girl thing to be a facade and the dangerous edge to be reality. Makes sense, she's a ninja. Granted, the genki girl thing isn't a complete lie. She does genuinely enjoy adventuring and seeing and experiencing new things, but when it comes to people she's a little less... open.

A lot of the reason for the why on this came with interactions with my friends as I developed the character. There were some times where I felt like she just didn't get on with everyone else like they all did with each other, and I just incorporated that into her character. She wasn't a super trusting person and has much higher walls in comparison to everyone else. Developing her backstory also further developed her personality - gave her reasons as to why she's so on guard and so reluctant to form genuine bonds with other people. Animals, at the very least, do not lie.

The adventuring spirit she has that gets her into all sidequests is usually a result of curiosity or self-service, with very few being acts of genuine altruism. Children in need tend to be the only quests she undergoes out of a sense of inherent goodness. The rest are really because she's amused, curious, or wants the reward. Also why she's HYPER-competitive, to the point it does interfere with both her relationships with other people and a reflection on her self-worth. She has an intense NEED to the best the absolute best. At everything. She hates losing, enjoys grinding challenging foes into the dirt and humiliating them, and dismisses anyone she doesn't particular find interesting. All the more reason why she instantly connected with Zenos.

Shadowbringers established the start of a very important shift of her personality. Becoming more of a mom friend as she realized from Stormblood she valued her co-WoLs/fellow Scions, and coming to terms with the fact that she is NOT this great altruistic hero everyone thinks she is, and she doesn't need to be nor should she feel obligated to be.

Backstory This was and still is the most slowgoing part of her continuing development. While everyone else in my friend group had some ideas of the characters and what they were about, Sumire was brand spanking new for me and had nothing. It doesn't help that I take character development incredibly slowly.

Originally she started out as a standard Raen, born somewhere in the Far East and so on. Didn't think too hard on it, maybe even Sui-no-Sato itself. Post-ARR hearing about Doma I was like, sweet she's Doman, let's go with that. Getting into Stormblood I realized that personality wise she took a lot more from the Azim Steppe than Sui-no-Sato and went hmmm. And that's established her being half-Xaela. Around this period in time I was also revitalizing my love for Mongolia history, and I insisted if Sumire was going to be part Xaela it would be with one of the more horse associated groups. I refused Goro because... Listen, I just can't okay. But Noykin, Noykin was good and fit with her animal loving side, as well as gave a valid excuse to my giving her a love for horsebirds. :p This also allowed me to develop her parents and her relationship with them a bit more. As well as come up with her precise origins - a village called Iga-no-sato. I could go on a whole tangent about this place and have meant to, but I'm not going to start here. Suffice it to say, it IS a ninja and samurai village.

My friend and I decided that she would have a brother too. One of his characters needed a sister and guardian and I was happy to let Sumire be that gal. It added another interesting dynamic to her story, the fact that she was, at the very least, someone's hero on purpose. She knew what it was like to be bullied and wouldn't stand by and watch other kids to do it to someone who was "different."

All these factors combined gave me a really interesting background for her. Her mother, a Raen samurai on business from Hingashi, fell in love with a Xaela Noykin who ventured to Doma to sell horses. The settled in Doma, though her Raen mother frequently returned to Iga-no-Sato and Hingashi. The Imperial occupation of Doma then happened, and feeling unsafe, her mother and father would travel to Iga-no-sato where Sumire would be born. They spent the first year of her life there before finally returning to Doma in the hopes of gathering clientele for the village. As Sumire grew up tho, her Xaela tendency showed strong and she was prone to mischief and starting fights - this came to a head when she was around ten and was severely beaten by Imperial soldiers, spared only because her mother and father intervened. This was the incident that told her parents they could not remain in Doma, and they made plans to travel to the Steppe.

Before the move, Sumire encountered a young Viera boy who was being beaten by other children. Having suffered a severe beating herself for being "different" she intervened and dished out a whooping and snarling to the kids, and brought home a brother. Her parents were confused, but accepted the new addition readily, and soon they were off to the Steppe. Which brought its own set of issues.

Personality wise, Sumire fit in with the Steppe, but her horns were strange even for a Raen, nor did she share the physical strength of her fellow Au Ra. On top of this she also still felt the need to protect her brother, and her brother in turn felt the need to protect her. Eventually, Sumire realized she couldn't focus on raw strength, and used her dexterity and speed to get ahead. And got ahead she did, to the point where her mother thought she might be too savage for even the Steppe. So she arranged to have that savagery controlled by sending her back to Iga-no-Sato. Her brother came along too.

Even at the village, where she began formally training as a ninja and samurai, she was "hard" to manage. She was then sent to Eorzea to help Oboro and Tsubame's mission in Limsa, in the hopes that cooperation with an allied village might tame her a bit. Instead she went and became a hero of Eorzea. Silently the village just... let her go, though they'll occasionally send a message or a request to her.

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thereluctantinquisitor · 1 year

Photo

Seren is firmly in his pretty boy era and I support him wholeheartedly.

#dont ask me where his tattoo went idk hahaah #but he is MEANT to have it #sigh #ffxiv #reluctant does ffxiv #also why are female glams just... so much nicer?#the male versions of these tops are trash by comparison >:(#sobbin'

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cinnabun-faerie · 2 years

Text

WoL is summoned to the Devildom Headcannons

A/N: Bwahahaha! This is fantastic! I'mma keep it pretty ambiguous in terms of job (I also don't know anything about being a BLM or RDM) and race. But feel free to imagine however you'd like!

Note: This is a mess.

Warning: Crossover!

You were just eating breakfast with the other scions when suddenly you were teleported away

JUST AS YOU WERE ABOUT TO PUT BUTTER ON YOUR TOAST

you can imagine everyone's worried face

all of them had experienced this before (except Estinien)

G'raha is especially worried cause he did this to you when he was the Exarch

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile you were teleported into this room surrounded by men

holding a knife

but you were quick to tuck it into your sleeve

you never know if you needed to use it or not

"Where am I? Why did you summon me here?!"

some dude named Diavolo said you were in the devildom as an exchange student

???

"Where exactly is the Devildom on this map"

not you pulling out your whole ass map of Eorzea

"Perhaps is it somewhere I haven't been before? I assure you, I've been almost everywhere"

All of the demons: ???

As you can imagine, no one knows where anything is

you don't know where the devildom is on any given map

and they don't know where Eorzea is

Well

Levi might

like he probably got a game called FFXIV that he's played so much that he's addicted

he might have seen you before because this game is so immersive that he could actually travel there

and he knows all of what you say is true

he probably knows YOU

ANYWAYS

Diavolo tells you that they're all demons

and Lucifer chimes in saying that you'll need protection if you're staying here

they did not expect you to laugh

Hello? You're faced with danger. You should be scared

And that's when it happens

you smirk

"I won't need a protector. I have fought foes more dangerous than the likes of you. Gods, primals, light wardens, and more have fallen at my hand. If you'd like a demonstration-"

like a flash of light, you pull the knife from your sleeve and chuck it straight for Diavolo

Naturally Barbatos caught it between his fingers before it could strike the young Lord between his eyes

this obviously pissed off Lucifer but Diavolo was impressed

"Can I have that back? I need that for my toast. Come on. Throw it back."

Barbatos being really reluctant to give it back but he does

and of course like the badass that you are, you catch it and tuck it back into your sleeve

you can tell that all of the demons in the room were on edge

except Dia

cue eye-roll

honestly there's not much that can really put him on edge

"I had no intention of harming him. It was merely a test. If you were as dangerous as you think you are, I would not be standing here."

Barbatos

(gosh, I love him so much)

He definately is suspicious of you

I'm sorry but you did chuck your butter knife at Lord Diavolo

and you had the audacity to ask for it back

he does not initiate any sort of conversation with you unless he needs to

at first

he might be holding a bit of a grudge

but EVENTUALLY he gets over it

it just takes time

he learns that despite being a warrior, you're a softie

somewhere inside you

and Lord Diavolo has taken quite the liking to you, and his friendship with you make Barbatos happy

if you have magic, he wants to see it

and he is especially curious about your gift, the Echo you have come to possess according to your tales

he would find comfort in that you too could see visions of the past and future

Belphie

(he meets you the same way in the game)

but when you let him out and he tries to take you out, you retaliate

but you don't hurt him badly

He just needed to see that you were no one to mess with

(honestly I feel like you would still help him and his family like you do in the game)

You were intriguing

he's never seen a human like you before

wait, you're not a human, right?

either way, you're pretty cool

and he did get a kick out of your knife throw

Satan got it all on video and the two re-watch it to laugh at Lucifer's face

He's the one who suggests that you join the Anti-Lucifer club

I think he would become kind of close to you

he would comfort you whenever you'd feel homesick

when no one would notice, he would pull you aside

"Y/N, let's go to the attic for a while"

nothing helps more than a cuddle

and maybe a nap

honestly he would get pretty upset when you'd talk about leaving

he wanted you to stay

he'd gotten so used to you being here

it's like, when you're with him, he forgot what life was like without you

Diavolo

Yeah he'd realize pretty quick that his summoning spell was wrong

or was it?

but hey, you were an impressive...um what do you call yourself?

and you were very analytical

he 100% believed that you had been in dangerous situations before

He strikes a bargain with you

you need to get home and he needs someone to represent the human world

this Eorzea place must be something like it, right?

HAHAHAHA Right.

ANYWAYS he agrees to help you get back home IF you stay and participate

as time goes on, he asks more about you

and he enjoys your tales

honestly you enjoy him too

and his red hair reminds you of your dear friend back home

he definately finds a best friend in you

and honestly he doesn't want to send you back

he wants to keep you by his side in the devildom

but if he knew anything about you

you hated someone who went back on their word

and he wasn't going to do that to you

#obey me #ffxiv wol #crossover

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carrotycake · 3 years

Text

the world put you in front of me (and we aligned)

A chance encounter at an Ishgardian dance, and Ysayle finds herself falling in love all over again.

4.1k words | Rated M | FFXIV | Estinien/Ysayle pairing | AO3

It’s funny, Ysayle thinks. She has spent so much of her life fighting and despising everything the nation of Ishgard stood for, that to be standing here, on the balcony of one of Ishgard’s largest manors, feels a tad hypocritical. For the first time, she appreciates the beauty of the land stretching out in front of her, the late-night sunset (which is as close to a summer as Coerthas gets) casting orange and pink hues across the grey pointed spires of the city itself. She rests her arms on the balustrade, observing the chatter of guests down below. It is oddly peaceful, despite her protestations at being invited in the first place. And still bitterly cold, of course, despite it being summer. Ysayle, shivering, rubs her hands together in an attempt to warm herself up; she had left her coat inside and the thin fabric of her gown was not nearly enough to ward off the freezing night air.

She sighs, her breath exhaling into a cloud of mist in front of her. Had she not gone by the name ‘Iceheart’ for years, revered by her heretic followers? She had survived many harsh Coerthas winters, only for her to shiver now at the merest hint of a breeze. Admittedly, she had found the warmth of the ballroom inside to be a little much, packed as it was with nobles, commoners, and politicians alike. The fresh air, cold as it was, was extremely welcome.

It was Aymeric, of course, that was behind the ball, and her invite to it – the Warrior of Light’s dear friend, and perhaps the most influential man in the city. Endlessly charming, he had persuaded her that it was an olive branch, of sorts, to mend the rifts between heretics and men. And – well, she had wanted to make amends. Lead those who walked after, and all that.

“Out here enjoying the festivities, I see?”

A familiar voice drags her from her thoughts, and she turns to see the tall, lithe body of Estinien crouching carefully on the gables above the double doors leading back into the ballroom. She frowns, irritated that he had caught her unawares in a moment of introspection.

“How long have you been sitting there?”

He shrugs, getting to his feet and gracefully hopping onto the ground beside her; ever the dragoon, she notes. He’s not in the armour he wore the last time they had seen each other, before Azys Lla. Like Ysayle, he is dressed in an approximation of Ishgardian formal wear, his long white hair tied in a loose half-ponytail. He’s handsome, her mind helpfully supplies, and she wills the thought away before it becomes trouble.

“Long enough,” he replies, leaning on the railing a fulm or two away from her, his gaze distant. He frowns. “Formal…balls aren’t really my thing. I needed some air. And – a break from drunk nobles trying to get me to dance with their offspring.”

Ysayle chuckles, despite herself. “I must admit, I did not recognise you at first. You clean up well, when you’re not head to toe in dragon blood.”

He bows his head. If Ysayle is not mistaken, she sees the hint of a blush colour his pale cheeks.

“Well,” he mutters, “You are the opposite, Iceheart. I believe there was not a soul in that room that did not notice you upon entering.”

She raises an eyebrow. “In a good way, or a bad way? Pray, do elaborate.”

Estinien splutters for a second. “Well, I – It is a nice dress. That is all I meant. No doubt the haberdashers will be inundated with requests for similar styles by tomorrow morning.”

A slightly backhanded compliment, but a compliment, nonetheless. “Damned by faint praise, I see.”

She turns to look back towards the sunset. “It is actually one of Tataru’s creations, so they’ll have a hard time prying the pattern from her little hands.”

Tataru had taken over creative control of this project, because formal dances were certainly not Ysayle’s area of expertise, and the Lalafell had been only too happy to help out. The light, drapey cerulean fabric of the dress belied the traditional Ishgardian style, but Ysayle had never cared much for tradition anyway. It was pinned and tucked beautifully, with embroidered details on the neckline and hem. It even – scandalously – showed off a little cleavage, something Ysayle wasn’t necessarily unhappy with.

They stand like that together, a little distance apart, for a few minutes; enjoying the last rays of the sun in what appears to be a companionable silence. How many times had they done this, a mere few months ago? Accompanied by Alphinaud and the Warrior of Light, of course, but together nonetheless. Sunsets always seemed even more spectacular when seen on islands beyond the clouds. Ysayle had never thought to see such beauty again in her lifetime; she had expected to die on Azys Lla, one last act of service as Shiva.

The gods, as it happened, must have had other plans, as she’d fallen from that great height and landed in the middle of a Vanu Vanu outpost; the last remnants of Shiva’s protection shielding her from further harm in the fall. Word had gotten back to Camp Cloudtop of her survival, and she had eventually woken in the infirmary in the centre of Ishgard. Mere days after her own discharge, and Estinien was staying there under the very same care as she had.

She had avoided visiting, though, despite Alphinaud’s almost-insistence that she do so. She had never thought this far ahead in life; now there was peace, real peace, and her old role was no longer needed. Lord Aymeric, introduced through the Warrior of Light, had requested her help in rehabilitating the remaining heretics and repairing the city in exchange for a pardon for her crimes, and she was not about to turn down such an offer. The Scions had allies, and she herself was still blessed with Hydaelyn’s gift, so she might as well make herself useful.

In quieter moments, however, her mind always drifted back to Estinien. She admitted to being a little disappointed when he disappeared from Ishgard without a trace after his recuperation; the small, naïve girl within her longed to believe that they could have been…something, more than just acquaintances passing in the night.

“You are deep in thought, my lady,” he says, a statement more than a question. Ever with the formalities, even when they were at each other’s throats with opposite ideals.

She shakes her head. “Just reminiscing. My life has taken on a trajectory I could not have anticipated before I had met you and your allies. I have much to be grateful for.”

“I admit, I was – glad to hear you had lived. My own fortunes were, you could say, not so lucky after our victory on Azys Lla. I did not hear about – you – until after I had awoken in the infirmary.” Estinien looked – embarrassed, perhaps? Ysayle could not tell, in the dim light of the evening.

“I-” He falters, swallowing. “I wanted to apologise. For things I have said. Knowing now the full truth of the war betwixt man and dragon, I – I said some unkind things. ‘Twas not your fault that I was ignorant.”

Ysayle takes a moment to think on his words. They were not the people they once were, after all. The truth, she thinks, has changed them both. She looks at him, then – he does not shy away from her eye contact – and nods.

“Apology accepted. For what it’s worth, I have a great deal to apologise for as well. My conscience is not clear, by any means.”

Estinien cracks a small smile. (She tries not to think that a smile suits him. It really does.)

“Aye, that is true.”

Their conversation was momentarily interrupted by a change of music from the ballroom – a slightly faster tune, reminiscent of folk tunes Ysayle heard as a child at communal dances in Falcon’s Nest. It was clearly designed to bring more couples onto the dance floor, and was so far having the intended effect. Ysayle could see the Warrior of Light, dressed in finery (another of Tataru’s creations), swinging Alphinaud a little too fast round in circles on the dancefloor. Aymeric could be seen, too, dancing politely with Hilda; commoners and nobles alike danced merrily to the band’s music. If this was their new republic, Ysayle thinks, then she quite likes it.

It is this train of thought that compels Ysayle with more bravado than she has; not thinking about where it might lead, she turns to her brooding companion.

“Well, when all is said and done-” She holds out a hand to Estinien, “Care for a dance?”

His brow furrows. “I’ve never- I mean. Forgive me, Ysayle. I’m not much of a dancer.”

She smiles lightly. “Neither am I. But we are alone, for the time being. Indulge me.”

“As you wish,” he frowns, still a tad reluctant, but he takes her outstretched hand regardless and pulls her close and Ysayle thinks, oh.

Oh no.

It has been a long time since she has been this close, physically, with anyone, and she wonders if Estinien can feel her heart thudding loudly in her chest. They stumble at first, taking a few attempts to figure out the rhythm of the song versus the clumsiness of their feet, but eventually settle into a gentle waltz.

Ysayle is acutely aware of the position of Estinien’s hand on the small of her back; its warmth – and he is so warm – practically burning through her dress. They are closer than they need to be, exactly, for the formality of ballroom dance, but Ysayle finds that she does not mind. He is avoiding her eyes now (deliberately, she thinks), so she instead concentrates on the position of her hand on his shoulder, her other hand clasped tightly in his as they circle aimlessly together across the balcony.

“So,” he begins, uncertainly, once they’d found their rhythm, “Where did you learn to dance, then? You seem to have more of a head for it than I.”

Ysayle smiles. “A little, as a child. And we had plenty of impromptu dances when I was-” When I was with the heretics¸ she would have said. Another time, in another life. Estinien, evidently noticing her hesitation, raises an eyebrow.

“Forgive me, my lady, but I simply cannot imagine a band of heretics indulging in such trivial things as dances whilst plotting the fall of Ishgard.”

“You are a fool, then, if you believe that we did nothing but sit around and curse the Holy See whilst getting drunk on dragon’s blood,” Ysayle scowls, swinging Estinien round a little more forcibly than she had intended. He stumbles, a little, before righting himself.

“I did not give much thought to the heretics unless they were forcibly attacking the city,” Estinien says, his tone serious, but the quiet glint in his eyes relaying a certain kind of humour. Ysayle rolls her eyes. He always knew exactly how to push her buttons to get her riled up when they were travelling together, and it seems not much has changed.

“I’ll have you know,” she huffs, “Lord Aymeric himself requested my assistance in restoring the city-”

“To avoid a jail sentence, yes,” Estinien has an eyebrow raised, smirking. He positions his arms just so, allowing her to dip backwards as part of the dance. His arms are secure, holding her in place perfectly before swooping her back up. They continue their circles together, Estinien chuckling at Ysayle’s irritation.

“For someone of little skill, you have picked up this dance remarkably fast,” she comments, her face flushed – from the exertion of the dance, or from Estinien’s attention, she was yet unsure.

“I’m a fast learner,” he says, and was it her imagination or was he a little closer to her than before? He stares resolutely ahead, his expression faintly jovial, and Ysayle tries not think about how good his arms felt holding her up.

The upbeat song currently playing comes to a close and, after a brief interlude, a new one starts up, slower than the previous one. Adjusting their pace accordingly, she thinks back a few months to their expedition together. Gods, she had not cared for the dragoon upon first meeting him. He was narrow-minded, and brash, and had been all-too willing to fight and kill the very creatures they were trying to make their allies without a second thought.

And yet – she had grown to like him, over those many days travelling. At first, the attraction had been purely physical. He was handsome, after all, and Ysayle had caught a peek of him removing his armour to see chiselled muscles and a wiry frame; something inside of her had fluttered, momentarily, when he had removed his helmet in front of her for the first time, revealing uncharacteristically soft, fair hair and deep-set blue eyes.

“Don’t get used to this,” he’d muttered, noticing her looking at him. “I can’t eat your soup with a helmet on.”

She’d blushed, then, almost as much as she was surely blushing now.

Even with Estinien’s growing connection to the Eye of Nidhogg – she’d felt it, creeping, growing, gnawing at him even as they travelled together – and his insistence that killing the wyrm was the best solution, she had caught glimpses of a kinder man underneath his harsh determination. Alphinaud had seen it too, as had the Warrior of Light. It endeared him to her, whether she wanted it to or not. And in the long weeks that had followed her miraculous survival, there had been much time for her to dwell on these thoughts.

Halone’s tits, she was in it now, wasn’t she?

It occurs to Ysayle, just then, that the slow pace of the current song meant that their little, secluded waltz had become less of a dance and more just – swaying gently, endlessly circling, not really paying attention to any kind of rhythm. The whole world, for a second, felt like it was just the two of them, the stars aligning to bring them together in a single moment.

“Your hands are cold,” Estinien murmurs, and she forgets for a moment that she still had one of his hands in hers. Usually a woman of great eloquence, she suddenly finds she is tongue-tied, she cannot speak-

“Y-yes, well. Perhaps it is you that is warm,” she whispers, her breath hitching in her throat as he brings her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. He almost seems surprised at his own boldness, his eyes crinkling in a rare bit of humour at her response.

“Mayhap,” he replies. The night is almost completely upon them now, the only light illuminating their faces being the candlelight from the outside lanterns and the ballroom itself. Their eyes meet, Estinien’s expression unusually soft.

Ysayle is not sure who makes the first move but suddenly his lips are on hers, her arms snaking around his neck, his hands on her hips, guiding them in a new kind of dance. In the end, it does not matter, because she is kissing him, and it is suddenly all she can think about. How long had she thought of this moment? How long had she imagined what Estinien’s kiss would feel like? It was, in truth, longer than she would care to admit.

He kisses with the air of someone who does not have a huge amount of practice, but makes up for whatever experience he lacks with strong, guiding hands; Ysayle soon finds herself pressed up against the iron railings of the balcony, the coldness of the metal on her back in sharp contrast to Estinien’s warm embrace. She feels goosebumps on Estinien’s neck where she is touching him; – yes, her hands are always cold, so cold – she moves a hand round to his lapel, using it to anchor herself to him and pull him closer, ever closer.

They break apart to catch their breath, and she looks up at his face, flushed as red as she’d ever seen it, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Do you, perchance, have a residence in Ishgard, Ysayle?” he breathes, still so close to her. Ysayle knows where this is going, knows where this might end up. And she wants it, Halone knows she does.

“That depends,” she says, curling a lock of his hair around her finger. Estinien exhales, almost impatient.

“On?”

Ysayle pulls away, just enough to see his face fully. “Is this…something you want? Truly?” Am I someone you want? She doesn’t say it, but the words settle between them anyway.

He frowns, a trademark scowl, and grasps the hand currently playing with his hair.

“It is. I am not one to deliver undue suffering to a soul such as yourself. And-” He looks flustered, struggling to articulate, “-this is something I have thought about often. In times of difficulty. The possibility of…something more.”

Oh.

“Well then,” she murmurs, his answer more than satisfactory, “In that case, I have a small apartment in the lower wards of the city.”

“I would very much like to get out of here,” Estinien replies, pressing a kiss to her cheek, another along her jawline. She lets her nails scratch the back of his head, just a little, privately enjoying the effect it seems to have on him.

“If you would permit me, my lady-” He breaks away suddenly, a spark of mischief in his eyes, and scoops her up bridal-style. She splutters, wriggling.

“What are you doing?!”

He peers over the edge of the balcony cautiously. “Avoiding any odd stares we might receive from my good friend’s guests. Now, hold still.”

Before Ysayle has any chance to protest, Estinien bends his knees and leaps, and Ysayle’s heart is rushing, the wind howling in her ears momentarily, and it is not far off what a dragon in flight feels like-

He lands, gracefully, some distance away from the mansion, and places her back on her feet with an uncharacteristic amount of care.

Hand in hand, she leads him through the lamp-lit streets, following well-worn paths to the lower area of Ishgard. More than once he catches her against a wall in a bruising kiss, so the walk takes considerably longer than it normally might on one’s own, but Ysayle is too busy wrapped up in Estinien’s arms to care.

The night is fully upon them now, so upon reaching Ysayle’s apartment there is a small amount of stumbling in the dark until she manages to find a lantern. Estinien, helpful as ever, is predictably distracting as she reaches for a pack of matches, hindered by his hands on her waist as he caresses her from behind.

“You know a lantern isn’t really necessary,” he growls, apparently eager. She rolls her eyes – realises too late that it was a gesture he could not see – and bats him away, momentarily.

“I don’t know about you,” she retorts, “But I like to see my lovers when I’m in bed with them.” She manages to strike a small flame into the lantern, illuminating them both in dim, soft candlelight.

Estinien raises an eyebrow, tailing after her as she leads him to the bedroom. “And has the Lady Iceheart had many lovers, in the past?”

She places the lantern down on the chest of drawers with a thunk. “A few. Borne out of convenience, mostly. Some out of love. All enjoyable, for the most part.”

It might have been a cold way of looking at it, but her time leading the heretics had come with its perks, namely that there was no shortage of people interested in her and her powers. She would never have dared manipulate anyone into sex or abuse her power in any way, but she had not been without company, had she so wanted it.

“And what about the famed Azure Dragoon?” she says, her tone a little more defensive than she had intended, “I’m sure the position comes with its own amount of attention.”

“Some,” he concedes, “But for the most part, I preferred to spend my free time training. A few dalliances, here and there. Nothing serious.”

Ysayle nods. Fair enough, she thinks. You’d have to be out of your mind if you actually wanted to sleep with that grouchy, stubborn arse of a dragoon anyway. Yet here she was.

“Well then,” she says, instead, “I still wish for your company tonight, if you’ll have me.”

Estinien is already against her, capturing her mouth in his and lifting her – a little roughly, not that she minds – onto the bed. “I was hoping we would get to that eventually,” he grins, wickedly.

“You’re an arse,” she replies, but there is no heart in the insult, not really. There’s not much time for thinking, after that, and she is happy to lose herself in Estinien’s arms for the time being.

Ysayle wakes from what might have been the most restful night’s sleep she’s had in some time. She casts a sleepy glance over her small apartment; the curtains had been left half-drawn the night previously, and the morning light was casting a bright glare across her bed, and the sleeping souls that lay within.

Ah, right.

Estinien is still sound asleep next to her; they must have moved apart in slumber during the night, but she distinctly remembers falling asleep in his arms. For the first time, she sees him and all of his scars in full daylight, and fights the urge to trace them gently with her fingertips. She settles for brushing his bangs out of his eyes; he is so peaceful in sleep, she thinks, his usual furrowed brow replaced with one of general content.

There are bruises too, newer ones, scattering across his neck and chest. Ysayle blushes, a little, because she knows that she is the one who put them there, and that there are similar marks on her own body. They will be covered with clothes, eventually, but for now they sit as a reminder of newfound passions and a lover she can’t quite forget.

His eyes flutter open, and an immediate scowl crosses his face as he adjusts to the bright light streaming in.

“Gods, do you always wake this early? To this kind of racket?” His voice is raspy with sleep, his long hair a little dishevelled.

She throws him a mock-frown. “Usually I remember to shut the curtains. I might have been…a little distracted last night.” She runs a finger along his jaw, lifting his chin so that she could lean and kiss him. He leans into her touch, a different kind of reverence.

“Ah,” he says, softly, when she pulls away, “Yes, that would make sense.”

Their clothes, haphazardly rumpled on a nearby chair would also suggest a measure of distraction. They had only paused long enough last night for Estinien to peel off Ysayle’s dress and his own clothes and place them somewhere off of the ground before continuing his ministrations.

“I don’t have anywhere to be today,” she says, by way of invitation, unsure as to how her overture would be received now that it was morning. Morning, bringing with it clarity, and the uncertain light of day. Estinien may not want anything more than whatever the previous night had been.

To his credit, though, Estinien reaches for her and brushes a few strands of silver hair behind her ear.

“Me neither,” he says, and Ysayle’s heart thuds in relief, “What activities have you planned? Lunch out, mayhap?”

This elicits a laugh from her, despite herself.

“Mm,” she smiles, “Maybe later. For now, I want you all to myself.”

Estinien responds in kind, using his advantage of strength and centre of balance to hold her firmly by the waist and flip her over, laying on her back.

“That can be arranged.”

His eyes are dark with want, and Ysayle finds that it pleases her greatly to be able to obtain this kind of reaction from him. She wants – well, she wants Estinien. All of him. Now. Obviously.

What she really wants, though, is Estinien for longer. Knowing that they might have something to come back to, a home found in each other’s hearts – the thought terrifies her, as it wasn’t something easily articulated to her stoic lover. Still, she thinks, perhaps in time.

For now, she has the man she wants in her bed, and that is enough.

#ffxiv #ffxiv fanfiction #final fantasy 14 fanfiction #estinien x ysayle #final fantasy 14 heavensward #carroty writes #this is me remembering i used to post my fanfic on here so here we are i guess #this is extremely self indulgent and i will not be criticised

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