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Yo, this blog moved!
―― ❯❯ @knukklesandwhich
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“Does this happen a lot?” | Noticing Trauma sentence starters
Swallowing hard, the usually so cheery fist-fighter swallows hard against a lump in his throat, pale-faced and still shaky from the effort his body went through by throwing his breakfast back up. He’s positively paralized for a moment because of all people to witness one of the signs that the war had left his claw marks even on someone like him, Squall was the last he wanted this to see. Taking a deep breath, the smaller man straightens back up and rubs his neck in a nervous, abashed gesture, avoiding to look his Commander in the eye as much as he tries to not notice the wet spot on the Training Center floor. Nervous chuckle sounding from him, Zell finally shakes his head and waves with one hand, as if all of this is no big deal. “It’s nothin’, Squall, don’t worry ‘bout it! Probably just ate something wrong or worked out a bit too much is all.” He laughs brightly, desperately hoping that Squall would buy his excuse or at least not ask any further questions. It’s bad enough that he wasn’t able to control himself for a moment there, over something as stupid as the other man mentioning Quistis heading for the Timber TV Station this week to do some weird promotional interview stuff Zell didn’t understand the first thing about. But it brought everything back with a bang, and the blond had not been prepared for that. In the end, he thought himself guilty of very much everything that happened after they initially met up with Rinoa and failed to kidnap Vincer Deling back then. It was he who couldn’t keep his mouth shut, effectively offering all Gardens up to the mercy of the mad president. It was because of him that Seifer had seen no other way out but to follow the cursed sorceresses thrall, which in the end almost got him killed. And worst of all… it was his fault that Trabia Garden had been bombed and unnumbered people killed in the process. “I’ll be right as rain, just gimme a sec to catch my breath!”
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Yes, Squall, you should.
This is one of my favorite Zell moments.  Over the course of the game, we have watched him progress from the stock hotheaded sidekick to, essentially, Squall’s right-hand man (a designation I’m sure Squall would be loath to admit), and then he further surprises with a bit of actually useful knowledge.  
While I’m normally not too fond of hyper, overreactive characters in games, Zell is just too endearing not to like.  He is a loyal and upstanding character who tries to act tough, and I love that the game gives him a chance to grow, to learn from his mistakes, and even to take the lead at times.  He retains his personality, but he also seems to mature a bit in the sense that he begins to focus his emotions toward addressing the issue at hand, thereby using them to a productive end, rather than wasting his energy.
So, Happy Zell (and St. Patrick’s!) Day!  (Corned beef, cabbage, and hot dogs!)  
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B A S I C S
AGE: 24 ( but verse dependent) BIRTHDAY: March 17th GENDER: Male SEXUALITY: Bisexual INTROVERT, EXTROVERT, OR OMNIVERT?: Extrovert HEIGHT: 5′6 / 168cm BODY TYPE: Muscular yet lean, well-trained EYES: blue HEALTH: Very healthy, takes good care of himself in terms of staying in shape, training, eating well (aside from his Hot Dog addiction) MEDICATION: None TEMPERAMENT: he is an energetic, fun, loud and often overconfident in his abilities. His mouth often runs away before his brain can follow, ending him in trouble. He also doesn’t take teasing well.
F A M I L Y
FATHER: unknown MOTHER: unknown, has a foster mother he loves very much SIBLINGS: Single child PARTNER: Verse dependent, by default he is single. OFFSPRING: None PETS: none
A D D I T I O N A L
SMOKES: No DRINKS: No DRUGS: No DIET: Mostly healthy and well-rounded, although he indulges in the occasional sweet stuff or even over-indulges in Balamb Garden’s cafeteria hot dogs, if he can get his hands on them. ALLERGIES/INTOLERANCE: None TATTOOS: tribal tattoo on his left side of the face PIERCINGS: no MAKE-UP: None JEWELLERY: nothing particular GLASSES/CONTACTS?: No PERFUME?: His aftershave smells like earthy tones and citrus with a hint of sandalwood MISC: He is very interested in history, geography and politics and pretty much always has some interesting facts to tell. DRIVES?: Only his T-Board  PARTIES?: Loves them. WRITES LOVE POETRY?: He dabbles, but keeps it a secret. CELEBRATES BIRTHDAY?: Oh yes! FAVOURITE COLOUR?: Red, Blue and Yellow SLEEPS?: Usually well, although since the war he has nightmares sometimes that make it hard sleeping through the night. HAS PLUSHIES?: A plush chocobo and a pupurin MUSIC TASTE?: Mostly what’s linked in this blog; upbeat things or rock / metal READS?: Yes, a lot about his favorite topics. Also comics. FONDEST CHILDHOOD MEMORY: Lost to the Guardian Forces. SINGS IN SHOWER?: Yes
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“Woah that’s... that’s uh... not good? How bad is the uh... damage?”
Maybe he shouldn’t have stored his collection of bomb shards on deck so they wouldn’t get confiscated...........
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“So. Bad news, the boat is on fire.” 
Is there good news? She really isn’t sure. 
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🤺 -charmenerveux
@charmenerveux ―― ❯❯ .answered
“Gee, Quistie, you sure I shouldn’t like… call for Rinoa or Selphie or anyone…?” Clearly abashed by her request, Zell shifts his weight from one foot to another, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his uniform pants and a slight blush on his cheeks. He’s not one of those guys that are all suave and self assured around women to begin with, and being asked to help one out of her uniform (his former instructor nonetheless) makes him nervous, to say the least. Glancing towards her, he finally sighs and nods, clearing his throat dramatically as he lifts a hand to rub at the back of his neck, still more flustered by the minute. Gesturing for her to turn around he reaches out so he can help her slip off the jacket. “...great weather today, huh?”, he starts rambling, taking his sweet time to very neatly and carefully fold the jacket so he can lay it down on the counter top to their right. “Bet Squall will soon start vanishin’ again so he can go swimming. Oh, also, did ya hear they’re having new kinds of Hot Dogs at the cafeteria? Heard they’re extra hot ‘n spicy but of course I haven’t had a chance to get one yet so no idea how they taste, really. Maybe I should just set up camp overnight… although, guess that wouldn’t look good for someone who teaches cadets how to fight, discipline and all, right?” While he babbles away, nervous hands help her out of her boots and when he straightens back up again, he hesitates once more, now beet red since all that is left is the blouse and the skirt. “S…so uh… I can call someone to help you with that?”
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🛡️ [ ohh jestie! ...i kid. ]
The request had been as unexpected as unusual, but honestly, Zell was no one to refuse a plea for help. He would never say it out loud but he can only imagine how difficult it must be to get in and out of all that armor with a hand that isn’t truly yours. So when Ravus asks him to help him into the many layers, the blond approaches with an unusual amount of trepidation. “Sure thing, I just ain’t very used to work with any of that, might need some instructions.” Better to warn him beforehand that this could turn out more complicated than the other one realizes. At any rate, Zell picks up the breast plate and steps closer to the tall Commander, reaching around to help him slip in and holding it in place while he moves around so he can adjust and fix it in the back. People that know the fist-fighter would notice how focused he is while doing so, a steep frown on his face as he tries to imagine how someone can even fight or move properly with all that heavy material hanging off their body. “Tell me if it’s too tight or too loose, yeah?” he murmurs as he tugs at the plate, taking a step back to look at everything from a little distance. He then proceeds to adjust the pauldrons and the cape, the latter being very carefully and tidily brushed over the other one’s shoulders, likely showing that despite his chaotic energy, Zell is at his very core a deeply orderly person. Ridiculously so, the ones that were ever even allowed into his room would likely attest. Hesitantly he steps around again looking up at Ravus with a raised brow, nodding towards the boots that are left to be put on. “...need help with those as well?”
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Send 🛡️ and my muse will help your muse put on their armor/uniform
Send 🤺 and my muse will help your muse remove their armor/uniform Add + reverse to the corresponding symbol to switch character roles!
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The Dincht’s FFVIII backgrounds 9/
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we stan a 5′5″ king
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Zell: Sweatshirts are probably one of my favourite things to wear, like am I wearing a bra? Probably not cause I’m a guy, but the mystery is still there.
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who tattooed the face of a teenager???
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“Whenever you get stressed, you do this thing with your hands. What is it?” -theowlsarestillaround
Noticing Trauma Sentence Starters || --→ .accepting
@theowlsarestillaround ―― ❯❯ .answered
Never having been one to deal with pressure too well, the one thing Zell can’t hide is when he is stressed out. Usually no one ever pays him much attention when it happens, because like Selphie, he is one of the quirky, chipper ones who always seem to be in a good mood, loud, obnoxiously so almost.
Xu had asked him this morning to take over the “watch Rinoa so she doesn’t do anything stupid” shift and the way she had glared at him, the blond had decided it was probably better to agree than risk her anger. Besides, he practically always was free if Garden had requests for him to do something. 
“Hm?”
Not having noticed he had started fiddling, Zell blinks at Rinoa, then looks down at his hands in his lap, forcing the fidgeting to stop. 
Of course he knows what is going on with him, he has been feeling off for a couple of days now. Ever since Almasy has been brought back to Garden, to be precise. For some reason Zell can’t quite place, the presence of the taller blond has triggered something in him. Memories of the war he had thought were of no consequence anymore. 
“Oh that’s just… dunno. Guess I had too much coffee is all!”
He smiles brightly at her, one of the few ones that is not scared of her powers or worried that she might lose control, because for him nothing between them has changed. 
“Don’t worry about it. How’s our Commander doing, by the way? I never get to talk to him anymore…”
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Noticing Trauma sentence starters
Feel free to alter dialogue to suit your muse!
“That really spooked you.” 
“I don’t want to pry, but.. I want you to know I also want to listen, if you want someone to talk to.” 
“Well, pretend I’m not here. What would you say if nobody could hear it?” 
“Does this happen a lot?” 
“Hey, what happened between you two?” 
“When is the last time you ate?”
“Is this okay?” 
“Hey.” 
“This is the third meal you’ve missed this week, are you okay?” 
“[Name]?” 
“What did he/she/they do?” 
“This … hurts you.” 
“You don’t feel safe, here.” 
“When you look at [trigger], you… what is that?” 
“What can I do?” 
“You were crying in your sleep.” 
“What do you dream about?” 
“Whenever you get stressed, you do this thing with your hands. What is it?” 
“You’re right, I don’t understand, yet. Will you help me?” 
“Should I leave a light on for you?” 
“I brought you some water.” 
“I won’t judge you.” 
“It doesn’t have anything to do with trust. You don’t have to tell me. But I’ll listen, if you do.” 
“Count your breaths with me, okay? Ready? One, two, three, four…” 
“I’m here.” 
“Talk to me.” 
“You don’t need to tell me everything. I just want to know how I can help.” 
“Let me hold your hair back, at least.” 
“You used to love that [item].” 
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