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[aglaean]

“I see your charm did not protect you from falling early in battle,” Azama notes as he comes by to check on his totally-honest-to-gods-definitely-absolutely favourite student.

"... You did make one for yourself as well, did you not?"

What escapes next can only be described as a long-suffering sigh, though Azama masks it (perhaps poorly) with a look of incredibly deep concern™️.

“… Mayhap next year I shall have to bestow one of my own to you. 'Passing beautiful' though yours may have been," gods, he needs to hold it in, he can't break down so soon, "it means little if it doesn't work as intended, yes?"

Dread and horror have never been writ more strongly across the face of one so marvellous. ‘Hold! Do you suppose that, had I procured further tokens, I would not have been so rudely removed from the field?’ 

This was a disaster of the highest order! Once again, it seemed, L’Arachel’s unfailing generosity had proven too great, too perfect, for this cruel world. 

Of course, this was not to say that she was disappointed that her latent powers had been bestowed upon one so grateful. The defence of innocents was, undoubtedly, one of the many goals the Gods had predestined her for, after all.

But she rather wished she hadn’t been so blind to her own virtues, so negligent of the budding talent she evidently possessed! Had she made multiples of the charm, the very tide of battle could’ve been changed. 

Well, it was little worth lamenting what had been fated to be. She would simply have to be prepared for the next trial. 

At his offer, she smiles graciously. It would not do to enlighten him as to the fact that she was the one gifted with the talent in charm-making. His proferred charm, unimbued with whatever hidden powers of protection she possessed, would be taken with thankfulnesss!

L'Arachel resolve to arise early the next morning, dedicating herself to securing more candles, more threads, and eventually, more charms. 

#asks: consult my wisdom! #in character: lights laughter and alliteration! #support: l'arachel azama / nothing matters! :d #toaboel2024 #((HELPPPPPP KEY THIS IS SO FUNNY)) #((I like them. I like them together a lot (their comedic duo charms please me) ))

[magicalgirlmindcrank]

This was a pretty rough task and it took a few tries but the strat of spell book swap to lunars after I clear the p3 spawns for veng into chally off the explosion was pretty foolproof.

All I need now is 44 more kc at Kree and my Hard Combat Achievements are done! Saving the nightmare kc for last cuz I can do a mass p much whenever and I wanna unimbue all my imbues so I can reimbue at half the cost. Think it's fine not doing it that way (and you don't get any perks until you talk to ghommal anyway) but it's the way I wanna do it. It's got some sweet perks though, namely the imbue cost reduction, killcount and ecu keys become a bit better, I get infinite tele to GWD, my canon holds 45 cballs up from 35 and I get more hard clues! You also need to finish hard CAs for elites of course and that level has some crazy good perks (more superiors and longer thralls!) So I'll have to see about pushing for those now~

#osrs

[cor-ardens-archive]

We shall become the same, we shall be one Spirit within two frames, oh! wherefore two? One passion in twin-hearts, which grows and grew, Till like two meteors of expanding flame, Those spheres instinct with it become the same, Touch, mingle, are transfigured; ever still Burning, yet ever inconsumable: In one another's substance finding food, Like flames too pure and light and unimbued To nourish their bright lives with baser prey, Which point to Heaven and cannot pass away: One hope within two wills, one will beneath Two overshadowing minds, one life, one death, One Heaven, one Hell, one immortality, And one annihilation. Woe is me! The winged words on which my soul would pierce Into the height of Love's rare Universe, Are chains of lead around its flight of fire— I pant, I sink, I tremble, I expire!

[dragons-ire]

Rhys.

He didn't know shit about the kid. Hingan, Doman, whatever, and he kind of didn't care. After he stormed off, Breandan took a moment to put into practice some kind of meditation. Cleaning up whiskey glasses and wine glasses and a stoneware mug full of the remnants of a cocktail that was sweet but not cloying and tasted faintly of coffee on the tongue.

People liked to interrupt Breandan's meditation by chiding him for brooding. By coming over and trying to cheer him up. Tell him to be happy. Lavish him with things like they were sensing a void in him, something that needed to be filled so he could be a complete and whole person.

He didn't want to be complete. He liked the idea of himself as a work in progress. 

He didn’t think about the particularly of how that whole exchange went down.  That he could unspin later with time.

Nobles have to learn the same as everyone else, sure. But he couldn't help but sense something else in the young man, a furious struggle that he couldn't help but feel a kind of connection and kinship to the young man. Trying hard to sell it in a world that didn't let him. Maybe trying to relate to a world that was strange to relate to.

Just like so many, many people he knew in the surprising vastness of people he knew. Just another lost and angry soul, so much like him. Lost. Angry. The scowl on his face reminded Breandan of how he felt when he was up in Ishgard; trapped by things he was obligated to play at for awhile longer. Frustrated because he had to be slow and patient, but a good exercise in patience. And skills

He thought about some of those people, scattered as they were all over the world. He thought about the office that he worked out of and the people who inhabited it. Old friends and new; people with whom he worked. Who he trusted, even if he didn't always act like that.

He thought about the Dufresne Bellworks, and what it would mean when the finest military force in Eorzea pressed with the rest of the Alliance across the Ghimlyt Dark and into burning Garlemald. The weapons the Ishgardian forces carried would have to be sourced with care. He'd have to walk on that one.

He thought about the Runner. About that boisterous air crew finally back in the air at last. Who invited him for drinks and on excursions and called him a friend. A precious kind of experience to him, that rare and unique airship with capabilities he didn’t even know. He only ever got to see the lounge.

And he thought about the mysterious White Lotus Inn, his destination after whatever last business meeting he had to be at. He'd been working very hard in Ishgard and Ul'dah, and maybe he actually deserved a vacation. Even if it wound up not being quite a vacation and just gentler work in a place he’d not seen much of. He wanted to see all of it. Including the professional Felore seemed to have specifically brought into Ishgard just so he could get a look.

He wanted different things. He wanted a peaceful soul.

The glasses cleaned up, he returned to his office and opened the weapons locker behind the archway. He pulled out an object that had been commissioned for him by Isrun Whitewood, Horizon Contractors' head of security. He wasn't even sure why. Maybe he'd been too interested in the rare history behind her weaponskill that he'd never heard of.

Maybe Isrun felt he'd just disrespected her weapon by playing with it like a shiny new toy. Either way, it felt appropriate, like a sinner’s penance.

He loaded one, plain, unimbued bullet into the gunblade's revolving chamber.

He...thought he understood why he couldn't ever bring Rhys into Ishgard the same way he'd brought Felore or anyone else. He knew that what he might need to do next would need to be executed with a kind of care, the way a difficult thing needed to be. Not a warning sign as much as a request for more insight before he decided what he wanted to do

Hopefully it wouldn’t go too badly.

He checked in, then wandered outside into the sun and up the ramp into Otolin's vegetable garden. Tipped his dark glasses down over his eyes to keep the glare of the sun that was worse than normal after that fucked up job and took a deep breath of peaceful air. Thought about what he wanted, and what he needed. He held the weapon in his hands with the kind of love and care that Isrun would. Like an artifact, a treasure. Something to be wielded with respect of its power and capability.

Then he fired a single bullet into the grass of Otolin Stone's yard. He was a terrible shot, but precision didn't matter when you were pointing the weapon in the dirt. Once it was done, he dug it out of the ground with his fingers and packaged it for Otolin’s front door.

Then he wandered back to the office to shuffle papers around.

He left the gunblade sitting on his desk with the door unlocked.

#savage crag & pike #the runner #the white lotus inn #dufresne bellworks #horizon contractors #FREE COMPANY NETWORK IS GO #peaceful soul sharper lance

[hiriajuu-suffering]

Community

I found out on Thursday for certain every community I ever belonged to was on account of others people utility for me to them. Once I’m not particularly useful, I’m discarded and treated like dirt. I was forced out of my friends social circles because, as the nerd of the group, once I was placed into a different class they couldn’t really place if I meant anything to them. I was forced out of my Ismaili social circles because I had different ideas and was too brazen with my approach, I couldn’t play along with the nonsense and be a simple-minded middle schooler. I was forced out of debate when I had academic requirements I needed to fulfill, and my presence was too limited to where my coach couldn’t rely on me for everything anymore. I was forced out of my restaurant when all I did was ask for more help and never got it, simply from some natural insecurities stemming from nepotism I didn’t even want to take advantage of. I was forced out of my last job because I was just filling an urgent need and not valued as an asset to a team. Now, it’s finally happening where it feels like I’m being forced out of a gaming community I’ve dedicated nearly all my leisure time the past 4 years to, all because finally setting my career goals forward means I’m no longer in the position to stabilize any play space.

Sure, there are excuses for all of this, but was any of it ever rooted in justice? Yeah, lots of the actions I’ve committed to are widely frowned upon but it’s not like I ever got my way regardless. It’s not like anything ever comes of me trying to fight for my ability to stay at a place I know I’m keeping my best interest in mind. I’m always the point of self-sacrifice. Whenever I attempt doing something for myself, I’m looked at with such an intense amount of scrutiny from the outside, the scrutiny from the inside drives me over the edge. Loss sucks and I battle back depression regularly, but I know, on some level, this isn’t what fair treatment looks like. Those around me act like I’m the shittiest person in the world for being intellectually driven, craving success, and trying to find a feasible way to get there unimbued with my sorrow and hatred.

I’ll be honest, if I didn’t ask some of the questions I lean into, there would’ve been no way to fix my mental state on my second depressive episode. I would’ve straight-up killed myself in 2012 had I not had someone validate the feeling I had when I tried to give myself a pathway to success, when I, for once, decided to put my needs on a meritocratic standard on the same level of the needs of others. Is starving for a lack of loss so wrong when nothing comes of it considering the emaciated, crawling on the floor needs to be put down like an animal state they’re in?

I never figured out why it was so easy for people to see me as a sub-human enemy needing elimination rather than a person deserving of some consideration like anyone else would be. Is there some grand secret no one is telling me? Am I supposed to be a villain? I’m a teacher, what more morality do you want me to prove? I’m not supposed to try to see if the person sitting across from me cares even a fifth of what I do? It’s not like I pressed the issue. It’s not like I even frame what I say in the form of an exchange. I’d rather whoever want me out of the picture to be direct to my face, if only to spit in their face and egg them on. I’ve hated myself more than depths of anyone’s superficial disdain could even reach, not once but twice.

What’s the point of being alive if you’re thwarted from accomplishing anything outside of the normal realm of achievement? I haven’t been anything and at 27 no one is going to feel at that age you haven’t gotten your fair chance at success, so what will it matter to those institutions if I’m gone? I matter to a disembodied set of individuals, not to sense of anything bigger than, idk, moral coincidence?

Even if you don’t understand how a person like me can have severe mental trauma, going on in life without some form of success is not how I evaluate truly living. It’s just another way of dying.

So yeah, whatever happens, humans are boorish creatures too self-centered to lend anyone personal respect. Well, at least to me, anyways.

#personal

[unimbuselasticcord-blog]

018.02.07 Happy for all you received bags and love them. Thank you😘 CNY holiday begin💋💋💋 #holiday #CNY #Unimbus

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[ladyarjuna]

I checked the Wizard's guide to everyday gardening, and all I got was a lousy copy Throck and an unimbued Beburtt scroll.

What material components did you use? Summon Hoes works best with a small piece of broken garden steel as a focus and a small pinch of the desired till as a material component.

#Anonymous

[strongwithoutrealising]

I See You I see you Yes, you The you that hears this from your core I see you Yes you The you that was and is you before...    before your glories    before your shame    before your doings    before your names I see you Yes, you The you beyond, between, and after your life story and your life’s frames But this “I” that sees sometimes forgets That at my very core I am also that which is beyond, between, and before...    before my glories    before my shame    before my doings    before my names And so this me sees you through the writings of its story Functions from within its frames And holds its old pose accordingly This me sees and all is fine until you or your story doesn't fit or sit with me or mine Then I don't see you My view is skewed With frame polish in my eyes I don't see you You’re now imbued With p’s and q’s Crossed t’s and dotted i’s In my forgetting I’m not connecting Just interacting Role-playing, acting With a projected you There’s a deflecting, a neglecting of our very being, our very souls As the drama of this disguise Heats up, intensifies It cannot last This me is burned right through And I’m brand new Renewed I look into, behind your eyes Once again I am, we are realized As the being beyond, before both you and me that is seeing I see you That ancient you Yes, you Unimbued, unskewed What more could one ever wish to do? Only this and say to you… For all the times this was not the case I offer you an eternal embrace And an invitation to meet in this I to I place And if we do, if we feel to share our stories Might we strip them of their glue like glories As with our frames Might we ensure they don’t override, reject This open canvas that may be ours to share Whatever ensues My promise to you Until this body dies Is to declare... I see you Yes, you I to I ~Rach https://www.instagram.com/p/CAtMuuojkNq/?igshid=5lwtp4oadq5x

[large-wardrobe]

All this weight

I have this image in my mind that we are all born floating. Unimbued by the weight of the past we have not yet learned gravity; we are fixed in the present by natural buoyancy. But moments die; eroded in the swash of time the pictures turn to dust. They pass as memories to one end of the hourglass and settle like sandcastles. We hoard this false kingdom and gather gravity from the weight of what once was. Like cartoon characters it is only when we comprehend what is happening that we fall.

I’ve been trying to lose weight since you left, but it is all so important to me. You were real once, but now you just make me heavy.

#poetry #writing

[unimbuselasticcord-blog]

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[unimbuselasticcord-blog]

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[unimbuselasticcord-blog]

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